So here is the first article of faith held by the Anglican Church:
There is but one living and true God, everlasting, without body, parts, or passions; of infinite power, wisdom, and goodness; the Maker, and Preserver of all things both visible and invisible. And in unity of this Godhead there be three Persons, of one substance, power, and eternity; the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.
I formerly held a Unitarian, or Arian, perspective concerning Christology and believed that God the Father and Jesus the Son were separate individuals. I believed, along with other Biblical Unitarians (as opposed to Unitarian Universalists - very different breed, though they have related origins) that Christ was a created being, specifically created prior to the creation of anything else, and then was instructed on the Father's ways, eventually becoming God's masterworker. I think this is at least a healthier, and more robust and Scriptural view, than some other Christologies among certain Unitarian sects, such as the human Jesus theology, and the Arian Catholic perspective that Christ was a spiritually pre-existent being but that Joseph was still the physical father of Christ. The created, pre-existing Christ (Logos) is a position I still think is somewhat defensible, but the arguments which try to get around his pre-existence are simply disingenuous and suggest, to me, a lack of intellectual integrity concerning what the Scriptures say and what it means to be a Christian. Of course, you are free to believe what you want about Scriptures, but the standard of interpretation that results in things like human Jesus theology (which asserts this is a teaching of Scripture) really fail in my opinion.
I am not going to present a full argument for the Trinity, because that is not the purpose of these commentaries. I recommend reading Augustine's On the Trinity, Boethius's Opuscula Sacra, and C.S. Lewis's Mere Christianity if you are interested in seeing some good arguments in favor of the Trinity from a Scriptural and rational position. Briefly, I came to see that the standard Trinitarian perspective of three persons in one God was not repugnant to reason from several different things. My thoughts concerning Baruch Spinoza assisted in this regard, though my position as a Trinitarian is obviously not dependent on the thoughts of a philosophical pantheist. But it occurred to me that God uses temporal things to speak of eternal things for a reason - the Father-Son relationship being the key one in Scripture. We become sons (or daughters) in contexts where parent-child relationships have already existed - they are new in token, not in type. The divide between Creator and created is that the Creator provides the type - He dispenses it through His miraculous creation, and the "relatio" between human beings is directly related by Christ in John 17:21-24 to the "relatio" Jesus has with God - a oneness of relationship that transcends time and space. Granted, God could have created the type of relationship in creating Christ, but the oneness Christ wishes for his Body is a created oneness, that is a mirror of eternal oneness - for in the beginning, the Word was, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. Anyone who has felt deeply divided on a subject has felt what it is like to feel like two people - but that is a fallen, broken parody of the threefold personhood in the "object" of God (I speak loosely here, for in the strictest sense God is not an object among many), a perfect relatio between three subjects who subsist in the same object. No analogy can capture this notion, nothing does it justice - it is not irrational but superrational, a full and perfect union of Persons possible only in God. In addition to realizing the eternal nature of Christ's relationship to the Father, as providing the type rather than being the token of a type, I realized the strangeness of the command to venerate Christ, who came and died for us, but not to worship him - which happens in the Scripture, and Christ does not warn them off from it, neither Thomas nor the women who worship him. Unlike the Angel in revelation, he does not reprimand such behavior. Why should the Father allow this unless, in worshipping Christ, we worship also the Father? Why would he put us at risk for idolatry, unless worshiping Christ simply was not idolatry? This is different from a Problem of Evil argument, like, why would God let bad things happen to good people? This is - why would God make the fundamental path to salvation a potential breach of the First Commandment and in some sense the Only Commandment? If Christ can say he is the only Way, Truth, and Life, and no one shall get through the Father except through him, how can we escape lifting Christ up in our hearts in the process of worshiping the Father that also worships the Son? Perhaps I speak from an emotive rather than a purely logical perspective, but I do not believe it is truly possible.
I think, moreover, that this is as fulfilling and unifying a concept, as conducive to making life more rational, as the concept of God in general is, as fundamental to my reality as love, life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness, belief in the value of logic, faith in humanity, and other things which are simply necessary to get on in the world. In The City of God, Augustine discusses how Plato believed in the Good, the True, and the Beautiful. Christ said, "Why do you call me good? Only your Father in heaven is Good." He also claimed himself to be the Truth. And the holy spirit, the Person who moves us to do good works, moved the writers of the Psalms to write their poetry, moves the Church to bow before her God, is surely beautiful. Augustine goes on to discuss that Plato divided learning into three categories, natural philosophy, abstract philosophy and moral philosophy. That is to say, there are three questions - What is reality like? How is truth to be known from the false? What ought I to do? These are the primary questions, the fundamental questions of all inquiry, and, Augustine says, we need them all - they all inquire into one truth, but must be kept distinct within that search for a unified truth if they are to be effective. No answer to one question which renders the other two absurd can be accepted. The Trinity, like the sun, is an idea too big for the mind's eye to fully grasp - we can contemplate it as best we can, but believing it as we look on the world, it becomes a light to the mind, creating paths through the tangled webs of darkness cast by the world and our own human failings. The Trinity is an eternal example of reconciliation, of difference brought to unified wholeness rather than destruction, a model for peace between separate Persons unparalleled in any cultural leader for peace the world has seen in any other context. With the Trinity guiding our thoughts on epistemology, different positions can be seen as modes within a whole framework rather than simply rival ways of knowing. With the Trinity guiding our politics, people who have different views become fellow members of Christ's body that we seek to reconcile ourselves to rather than declare triumph over. With the Trinity guiding our personal lives, we seek balance, never letting a single opinion go unassailable, for the Ultimate Reality is not so small minded and will not tolerate such small mindedness in us. Thus I ardently affirm this first, essential article of faith, as a Christian, an Anglican, a human being.
Monday, January 16, 2012
Saturday, November 26, 2011
A Meditation on the Articles of Faith: Introduction
Those of you who actually read this blog (which is about one person I think, being, namely, myself) will know that about a year ago I converted to Anglicanism, after a period of wandering around in the wilds of Biblical Unitarianism. This is not the place for a discussion of my conversion experience, but suffice it to say that the change was monumental. If you're interested to read one of the patterns of thought that lead me to Trinitarianism, look at my blog posts on The Past and Baruch Spinoza. Anyway, I thought it might be interesting to slowly look at all 39 articles of religion as believed by the Anglican faith.
Now, these are standards of interpretation, not unyielding dogma, so differences on how to interpret these 39 articles are extensive between branches of Anglicanism, to individual churches, and finally to individual believers, so my interpretations are by no means universal. The one thing I do not wish to do is flatly reject any of these - with the respect of church history that I do have, I accept axiomatically all 39 of these as having a valid claim to my Christian faith. That said, what exact conclusions to draw them from and reconciling them to my biases is not the easiest thing in the world, so I want this to be a catalog of my thought process as I analyze, struggle with, break down and support each article. I would like to make a commitment to a time frame for doing this, but as busy as I am I really can't do that, so it will basically be as the spirit moves me and I get the time.
Here is the link to the articles:
http://rechurch.org/recus/?MIval=/recweb/foundations.html&display=39
I just want to set out a few of my principles of interpretation before we get started:
1. Scripture has final authority on all matters.
2. That said, interpreting Scripture is a difficult, complicated process, and some standard of interpretation is necessary to be sure that Scripture is being used in a healthy manner. Thus informing my perspective is the historical interpretation of the Church, both Roman Catholic and Anglican, especially the perspective of the Reformed Episcopal Church. Church history, and people with authority in the church, are thus valid authorities of doctrine that should be listened to carefully, and while sound reasoning on the Scriptures may give valid reasons to disagree with these authorities, such disagreement should be taken very, very seriously.
3. Within the parameters of Christianity as my position espouses (an Anglican who recognizes the first 3 ecumenical councils, all 3 creeds, the final authority of Scripture and the validity of the very articles being studied here), I operate from a Boethian principle of reconciliation, where I prefer to reconcile, within Christian perspectives, positions, rather than to reject doctrine wherever possible, provided that it remain within orthodoxy. It is more desirable to be able to perform this reconciliation among Christian thinkers than to assert disagreement, so every sincere effort in that respect will be made here - but only as is permissible in light of intellectual integrity and what is set forth in Scriptural and, secondarily, historical thought. So while reconciliation is the first strategy, it is not the last - it is an ideal, not a dogma.
Also, as a final comment, these will mostly just be meditative and analytical, not so much research-based, so please do not take them as scholarly findings as much as sharing private thoughts on the nature of these articles.
I am excited and hope to be posting soon!
Now, these are standards of interpretation, not unyielding dogma, so differences on how to interpret these 39 articles are extensive between branches of Anglicanism, to individual churches, and finally to individual believers, so my interpretations are by no means universal. The one thing I do not wish to do is flatly reject any of these - with the respect of church history that I do have, I accept axiomatically all 39 of these as having a valid claim to my Christian faith. That said, what exact conclusions to draw them from and reconciling them to my biases is not the easiest thing in the world, so I want this to be a catalog of my thought process as I analyze, struggle with, break down and support each article. I would like to make a commitment to a time frame for doing this, but as busy as I am I really can't do that, so it will basically be as the spirit moves me and I get the time.
Here is the link to the articles:
http://rechurch.org/recus/?MIval=/recweb/foundations.html&display=39
I just want to set out a few of my principles of interpretation before we get started:
1. Scripture has final authority on all matters.
2. That said, interpreting Scripture is a difficult, complicated process, and some standard of interpretation is necessary to be sure that Scripture is being used in a healthy manner. Thus informing my perspective is the historical interpretation of the Church, both Roman Catholic and Anglican, especially the perspective of the Reformed Episcopal Church. Church history, and people with authority in the church, are thus valid authorities of doctrine that should be listened to carefully, and while sound reasoning on the Scriptures may give valid reasons to disagree with these authorities, such disagreement should be taken very, very seriously.
3. Within the parameters of Christianity as my position espouses (an Anglican who recognizes the first 3 ecumenical councils, all 3 creeds, the final authority of Scripture and the validity of the very articles being studied here), I operate from a Boethian principle of reconciliation, where I prefer to reconcile, within Christian perspectives, positions, rather than to reject doctrine wherever possible, provided that it remain within orthodoxy. It is more desirable to be able to perform this reconciliation among Christian thinkers than to assert disagreement, so every sincere effort in that respect will be made here - but only as is permissible in light of intellectual integrity and what is set forth in Scriptural and, secondarily, historical thought. So while reconciliation is the first strategy, it is not the last - it is an ideal, not a dogma.
Also, as a final comment, these will mostly just be meditative and analytical, not so much research-based, so please do not take them as scholarly findings as much as sharing private thoughts on the nature of these articles.
I am excited and hope to be posting soon!
Sunday, July 3, 2011
The Argument from Metaphysical Possibility
Having had time to digest these thoughts for a while now, I think this argument actually bears some similarity to the concept of fixed arbitration, which relies on an analogy of linguistics coupled with a belief in property dualism. However, this argument is more strictly from the nature of possibility.
Here are my working premises.
1. Metaphysical possibility, or "pure" possibility, is unchanging. So, for example, a unicorn is always "purely" possible.
2. Nomological possibility, or possibility within the laws of the universe, does not account for all possibility, but only the realm of possibility within those natural laws, such as gravity, electro-magnetism.
3. Circumstantial possibility arises from a network of causes, usually within a set of nomological rules and events.
Each level of possibility closes the possibility-to-actuality ratio. So in pure possibility, unicorns are 100% possible. It is also, however, 100% possible that no unicorns exist. While things which contradict logically, such as 1+1=3 or square circles, are not admissible into the realm of metaphysical possibility, things which contradict in a nomological or cirumstantially specified moment of logical appraisal, are not necessarily contradictory in the realm of pure possibility. So to say that unicorns are 100% possible, and that the non-existence of unicorns is also 100% possible, is not here contradictory. There is no nomological or circumstantial "friction," if you will, coming in the way of these logical concepts.
Nomological rules close the gap. Every rule of the universe we add makes certain possibilities less likely. If we add in the law of gravity, the ability to fly on a very large planet becomes less likely. Rules we live with, such as fire is hot, make it difficult for purely possible propositions like "Ice cubes don't melt in fire" to be actualized. So let's say, somewhat arbitrarily, that the laws of our universe reduce the possibility of unicorns existing to 35%. We'll say that evolution could still result in the possibility of unicorns, and if they also developed intelligence, they might be able to learn some sort of technology which, to a medieval mind (when the unicorn became popular) would explain the idea that unicorns have 'magic.' We are, by the way, supposing magic as we understand it (being able to bend the laws of nature, cast spells, etc), as ruled out, since that is the popular conception of magic. If we are committed to a fully magical unicorn, that will reduce the nomological possibility greatly - of course, there is here something of a discrepency between what we consider to be nomological possibility and what actually is a nomological possibility, but let us leave that aside for the moment.
Within the nomological realm, the unicorn remains possible but takes a little more work to get to. Within the context, however, of the studies of science, biology, and animal life, and a critical modern eye to medieval historical texts, we have come to reduce the nomological possibility of the unicorn to probably something less than 1%. I don't say zero because a true zero percentage would require a pure logical fallacy, and unicorns are not a pure logical fallacy. Within the context of natural law and circumstance, however, the existence of the unicorn is probably reducible to a point where it is something like about zero for even the most troublesome philosopher, and probably zero in the common sense perception of most people. You can see that possibility is a very complicated thing, because there are really not three layers of possibility, but three general layers, and especially within nomological and circumstantial possibility there can be a lot of possibility remaining. In fact, natural law and circumstances not only narrow, but also increase possibility, in one sense, because actually having stairs make it possible to actually climb them, whereas taking away the stairs makes it less circumstantially possible to climb them but not less metaphysically or naturally possible.
In general, though, circumstance (under which we can sort of sweep natural law if we are being imprecise) limits possibility. Circumstance allows for a vast array of possibility within its scope, but makes other perfectly possible things in the realm of logic very hard. It would be very difficult for me to get to China from my living room, given the circumstances of natural law and the actual location of my living room (natural law + circumstance), but in metaphysical possibility nothing says I couldn't just pop over to China without any effort whatsoever; I could just teleport there. As of now, however, getting to China from my room (as in, without going out the door, getting to an airport or so forth but just staying in my apartment) is pretty much zero, if not philosophically zero.
Let us return to the unicorn example. We have said that unicorns are at about zero for common sense perception, when we add together our assumptions about natural law with the circumstances of how evolution happened to turn and the degrees of reliability of historical and scientific inquiry. But we have also said that the concept "unicorns exist" and the concept "unicorns do not exist" are both perfectly good. We could say, indeed, that they are both 100% possibilities, because none of the limiting factors of natural law or circumstance exist. It is hard to see these possibilities as random; quite the opposite, they are 100% possible in pure or "metaphysical" terms. It is also not clear to me what their "cause" is; this is just the nature of the concept being considered. In some sense, then, it seems that the existence and non-existence of unicorns, and indeed of everything within the realm of possibility, stands in a very strange place in relationship to a hard determinist world view. What, especially, happens when we are looking at a human choice, which is not only capable of considering metaphysical possibility, but seems to be, on this planet, the discoverer of the notion? What happens when the will inclines to this option, if you will?
Now, obviously we don't choose between unicorns existing and not in our day to day activities. What we choose between are things like dating or not dating, eating or not eating, red or blue, karate or wrestling, school or the military, and so forth. When we look over possibilities, we generally attend to circumstantial possibility, which branches out of nomological possibility from metaphysical possibility. We assume, without realizing it, that our choice must be possible in the absolute sense, or we wouldn't be considering the options. We instead look at circumstances, at the limiting factors which make option A or option B desirable choices.
Here is what I propose. Every choice presents two possibilities which we see as possible at every level. A circumstantial possibility must be possible nomologically, which requires it to be possible metaphysically. Metaphysically impossible choices are not possible within circumstance, though metaphysically possible choices are sometimes impossible circumstantially and naturally. If a choice can be made from 100% true and 100% false, both of which are present in our choice, in a choice which "goes all the way up" the chain of possibility, as it were, perhaps it is here where we find freedom. A choice made purely out of circumstance is limited in that it does not perceive the full range of possibilities; it is made in errors about fuller circles of possibility within which we choose. When the choice is between two truly, fully possible events, the will is being moved not by partialities but is moving through two absolutes. Now we have to admit for partial possibilities within the lives of human beings; as I always insist, total free will is not a logical concept. Free will is only entertainable to the degree that we act from an awareness of a fuller account of possibility, where the choice moves not merely from one circumstantial possibility to the next, but taps into the metaphysical absolute possibilities, where a choice being made is not random because that choice is the 100% choice of metaphysical possibility, and not caused because the will had the other option of 100% opposing, in the frictionless metaphysical world, possibility.
I will take the easier objection I can think of first, which is this: Well, how could human choice possibly unfold from this metaphysical possibility? The answer is, well, I do not know, but we know that it happens. The universe which exists is, in a very loose sense of the word, a sort of "choice," that is to say, the universe could, metaphysically speaking, have been some other way. We can imagine it quite consistently, if we had enough time to do so, with very different rules and circumstances. So as it happens, the universe itself attests to the actuality of limiting metaphysical possibility or navigating it; how much greater can the will do so, if it can actually look over metaphysical possibility?
The second question is, of course, the direct attack on libertarianism: Even supposing at the will is capable of choosing between two absolute metaphysical possibilities, how can it be said that the will is free, when there is still a "why" or a reason involved in the choosing? Well, first of all, my attempt has been to loosen the determinist perspective of caused versus random, which I think this achieves, even if it does not address this objection. I am not convinced that having a "reason" for an action limits free will in the same way as other causes, if the reason in question is a Reason, not a Cause, if that makes sense. Circumstance and natural law is a part of our lives, and escaping that is impossible. Free will must be considered as a temporal event which occurs with the right arrangement of causes, as I indicated in the previous post, not the elimination of causal force on the will. When the will finds its reason for acting in a sort of interdisciplinary fashion, being able to move when desirable from the levels of possibility, not only in thought but, within a context, actually in force of will, into the realm of metaphysical possibility, and make choices from that station, looking down upon circumstantial, partial possibilities to choose among those circumstantial choices from their origin as metaphysical absolutes, then the will is as free as it may become, under this conception. Thus within the circumstance, the will moves freely between choices A and B afforded by that circumstance, even if at another level the will is moved by considerations of metaphysical possibility. Free will thus arises from, and is not independent of, logic and possibility far greater than itself. Freedom, moreover, is learned under this conception, and can be increased or decreased depending upon the level of possibility to which both thought and will attend.
I recognize some difficulties in the argument presented, especially in dealing with the last objection. However, I think this final argument, along with the previous five, are enough to cast plausible doubt on the case of hard determinism, permitting those who want at least a general libertarian perspective, without resorting to a simple compatibilism which merely changes the definition of free will (as opposed to the compatibilism I articulate, which does not admit for a full free will but does permit a real possibility between choosing A or B and seeks to loosen, not work within, the framework of hard determinism). Perhaps these arguments will serve, once objections to them have been more fully made and responses more fully considered, as starting points for creating, some day, a more robust libertarian philosophy.
Here are my working premises.
1. Metaphysical possibility, or "pure" possibility, is unchanging. So, for example, a unicorn is always "purely" possible.
2. Nomological possibility, or possibility within the laws of the universe, does not account for all possibility, but only the realm of possibility within those natural laws, such as gravity, electro-magnetism.
3. Circumstantial possibility arises from a network of causes, usually within a set of nomological rules and events.
Each level of possibility closes the possibility-to-actuality ratio. So in pure possibility, unicorns are 100% possible. It is also, however, 100% possible that no unicorns exist. While things which contradict logically, such as 1+1=3 or square circles, are not admissible into the realm of metaphysical possibility, things which contradict in a nomological or cirumstantially specified moment of logical appraisal, are not necessarily contradictory in the realm of pure possibility. So to say that unicorns are 100% possible, and that the non-existence of unicorns is also 100% possible, is not here contradictory. There is no nomological or circumstantial "friction," if you will, coming in the way of these logical concepts.
Nomological rules close the gap. Every rule of the universe we add makes certain possibilities less likely. If we add in the law of gravity, the ability to fly on a very large planet becomes less likely. Rules we live with, such as fire is hot, make it difficult for purely possible propositions like "Ice cubes don't melt in fire" to be actualized. So let's say, somewhat arbitrarily, that the laws of our universe reduce the possibility of unicorns existing to 35%. We'll say that evolution could still result in the possibility of unicorns, and if they also developed intelligence, they might be able to learn some sort of technology which, to a medieval mind (when the unicorn became popular) would explain the idea that unicorns have 'magic.' We are, by the way, supposing magic as we understand it (being able to bend the laws of nature, cast spells, etc), as ruled out, since that is the popular conception of magic. If we are committed to a fully magical unicorn, that will reduce the nomological possibility greatly - of course, there is here something of a discrepency between what we consider to be nomological possibility and what actually is a nomological possibility, but let us leave that aside for the moment.
Within the nomological realm, the unicorn remains possible but takes a little more work to get to. Within the context, however, of the studies of science, biology, and animal life, and a critical modern eye to medieval historical texts, we have come to reduce the nomological possibility of the unicorn to probably something less than 1%. I don't say zero because a true zero percentage would require a pure logical fallacy, and unicorns are not a pure logical fallacy. Within the context of natural law and circumstance, however, the existence of the unicorn is probably reducible to a point where it is something like about zero for even the most troublesome philosopher, and probably zero in the common sense perception of most people. You can see that possibility is a very complicated thing, because there are really not three layers of possibility, but three general layers, and especially within nomological and circumstantial possibility there can be a lot of possibility remaining. In fact, natural law and circumstances not only narrow, but also increase possibility, in one sense, because actually having stairs make it possible to actually climb them, whereas taking away the stairs makes it less circumstantially possible to climb them but not less metaphysically or naturally possible.
In general, though, circumstance (under which we can sort of sweep natural law if we are being imprecise) limits possibility. Circumstance allows for a vast array of possibility within its scope, but makes other perfectly possible things in the realm of logic very hard. It would be very difficult for me to get to China from my living room, given the circumstances of natural law and the actual location of my living room (natural law + circumstance), but in metaphysical possibility nothing says I couldn't just pop over to China without any effort whatsoever; I could just teleport there. As of now, however, getting to China from my room (as in, without going out the door, getting to an airport or so forth but just staying in my apartment) is pretty much zero, if not philosophically zero.
Let us return to the unicorn example. We have said that unicorns are at about zero for common sense perception, when we add together our assumptions about natural law with the circumstances of how evolution happened to turn and the degrees of reliability of historical and scientific inquiry. But we have also said that the concept "unicorns exist" and the concept "unicorns do not exist" are both perfectly good. We could say, indeed, that they are both 100% possibilities, because none of the limiting factors of natural law or circumstance exist. It is hard to see these possibilities as random; quite the opposite, they are 100% possible in pure or "metaphysical" terms. It is also not clear to me what their "cause" is; this is just the nature of the concept being considered. In some sense, then, it seems that the existence and non-existence of unicorns, and indeed of everything within the realm of possibility, stands in a very strange place in relationship to a hard determinist world view. What, especially, happens when we are looking at a human choice, which is not only capable of considering metaphysical possibility, but seems to be, on this planet, the discoverer of the notion? What happens when the will inclines to this option, if you will?
Now, obviously we don't choose between unicorns existing and not in our day to day activities. What we choose between are things like dating or not dating, eating or not eating, red or blue, karate or wrestling, school or the military, and so forth. When we look over possibilities, we generally attend to circumstantial possibility, which branches out of nomological possibility from metaphysical possibility. We assume, without realizing it, that our choice must be possible in the absolute sense, or we wouldn't be considering the options. We instead look at circumstances, at the limiting factors which make option A or option B desirable choices.
Here is what I propose. Every choice presents two possibilities which we see as possible at every level. A circumstantial possibility must be possible nomologically, which requires it to be possible metaphysically. Metaphysically impossible choices are not possible within circumstance, though metaphysically possible choices are sometimes impossible circumstantially and naturally. If a choice can be made from 100% true and 100% false, both of which are present in our choice, in a choice which "goes all the way up" the chain of possibility, as it were, perhaps it is here where we find freedom. A choice made purely out of circumstance is limited in that it does not perceive the full range of possibilities; it is made in errors about fuller circles of possibility within which we choose. When the choice is between two truly, fully possible events, the will is being moved not by partialities but is moving through two absolutes. Now we have to admit for partial possibilities within the lives of human beings; as I always insist, total free will is not a logical concept. Free will is only entertainable to the degree that we act from an awareness of a fuller account of possibility, where the choice moves not merely from one circumstantial possibility to the next, but taps into the metaphysical absolute possibilities, where a choice being made is not random because that choice is the 100% choice of metaphysical possibility, and not caused because the will had the other option of 100% opposing, in the frictionless metaphysical world, possibility.
I will take the easier objection I can think of first, which is this: Well, how could human choice possibly unfold from this metaphysical possibility? The answer is, well, I do not know, but we know that it happens. The universe which exists is, in a very loose sense of the word, a sort of "choice," that is to say, the universe could, metaphysically speaking, have been some other way. We can imagine it quite consistently, if we had enough time to do so, with very different rules and circumstances. So as it happens, the universe itself attests to the actuality of limiting metaphysical possibility or navigating it; how much greater can the will do so, if it can actually look over metaphysical possibility?
The second question is, of course, the direct attack on libertarianism: Even supposing at the will is capable of choosing between two absolute metaphysical possibilities, how can it be said that the will is free, when there is still a "why" or a reason involved in the choosing? Well, first of all, my attempt has been to loosen the determinist perspective of caused versus random, which I think this achieves, even if it does not address this objection. I am not convinced that having a "reason" for an action limits free will in the same way as other causes, if the reason in question is a Reason, not a Cause, if that makes sense. Circumstance and natural law is a part of our lives, and escaping that is impossible. Free will must be considered as a temporal event which occurs with the right arrangement of causes, as I indicated in the previous post, not the elimination of causal force on the will. When the will finds its reason for acting in a sort of interdisciplinary fashion, being able to move when desirable from the levels of possibility, not only in thought but, within a context, actually in force of will, into the realm of metaphysical possibility, and make choices from that station, looking down upon circumstantial, partial possibilities to choose among those circumstantial choices from their origin as metaphysical absolutes, then the will is as free as it may become, under this conception. Thus within the circumstance, the will moves freely between choices A and B afforded by that circumstance, even if at another level the will is moved by considerations of metaphysical possibility. Free will thus arises from, and is not independent of, logic and possibility far greater than itself. Freedom, moreover, is learned under this conception, and can be increased or decreased depending upon the level of possibility to which both thought and will attend.
I recognize some difficulties in the argument presented, especially in dealing with the last objection. However, I think this final argument, along with the previous five, are enough to cast plausible doubt on the case of hard determinism, permitting those who want at least a general libertarian perspective, without resorting to a simple compatibilism which merely changes the definition of free will (as opposed to the compatibilism I articulate, which does not admit for a full free will but does permit a real possibility between choosing A or B and seeks to loosen, not work within, the framework of hard determinism). Perhaps these arguments will serve, once objections to them have been more fully made and responses more fully considered, as starting points for creating, some day, a more robust libertarian philosophy.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
The Argument from God
All right, I've basically forgotten what this argument is, so I am going to reconstruct it. I think a version of it is in my theodicy, which is earlier in the post.
The cosmological argument roughly goes as follows:
1. There are events which have causes.
2. Events which are caused can either go back infinitely (so that there is an infinite regression of causes), or there is one Cause which is itself uncaused.
3. Even if there is an infinite regression of causes, we can still ask, why this causal chain?
4. If an infinite regression of causes is not possible, there must be something like a first cause.
5. So, either there is a first cause which itself has no causes, or there is a reason for the existence of an infinite causal chain.
6. This second thing, a "reason for the infinite causal chain," is really not substantively different from the Uncaused Cause: it is an uncaused cause, in a sense, since it is the basis for the possibility of the causal chain, in a sense.
7. So, an Uncaused Cause is a reasonable belief.
I've given a really light version of the argument, obviously, and haven't looked at it in a long time, so go easy on me here. But basically you get the idea. It seems like at some point, for cause to make sense, one has to posit something which can give rise to ordinary cause but is itself somehow special. This thing is what is called God by Aquinas. We don't have to do that, however. We can simply admit that either there is a First Cause, the nature of which would not be caused or it wouldn't be the first cause, or there is a Cause for Infinitely Temporal Causes, which would be also a sort of uncaused cause; whatever it looks like, we'll call it God for short, would not have a cause. Note, however, that this could also not be random, because randomness is really either 1. causes we don't understand or 2. something happening for no reason. The Uncaused Cause doesn't happen for 'no reason,' ITSELF is the reason for its existence. It is the nature of causality itself, and is exactly the opposite of the notion of randomness. All regular causes, you see, are sort of partial. This means that they owe their existence to some other cause. Randomness could only admit itself, I think, in the realm of partial causes. The Uncaused Cause cannot have such partiality because it cannot be caused into being; it is causally "full." But, in this sense, it is also causally "free." It is not caused, and it is not random.
I propose that this Uncaused Cause, if we can assume that such a thing exists (even if we are not willing to call it God for the purposes of this argument) could be partaken of by human consciousness in a lesser sense. I don't propose that human beings are Uncaused Causes, but that human will could have a power analogous to uncaused causality. It would not be a true uncaused cause, because human beings are caused into existence, and therefore so are their wills. But the development of the human will, in the process of understanding the world around it and comprehending the concept of cause within its own choices, may become a sort of lesser version, a mirror if you will, of Uncaused Causality. If one accepts theism, this is a lot easier to swallow: we simply can believe that God imparts, in some way, a sort of representation of Uncaused Causality, what we in our day to day lives experience as free will. It does have cause involved, it is not causally free, but its design is to, within certain contexts, behave in a fashion analogous to the Uncaused Cause, which allows the human will to transcend the caused/random dilemma of the hard determinist. Exactly how this would work isn't clear to me, and it seems like some details still need fleshing out. It seems like the "Uncaused Causality" of humans is perhaps limited in this way: there have to be certain causes already in effect (what we could call freedom factors, if we like alliteration) which permit the human will to be exercised freely. This would include: being born, not being brain washed, not being coerced, and other factors we might say could encroach on the designed, "caused" Uncausality of causation (whew!) that God created in us. Free will is thus a contingency and still demands certain limitations on libertarian thought; it certainly would be less free than Kant's libertarianism. But it seems like a possibility, at any rate.
The cosmological argument roughly goes as follows:
1. There are events which have causes.
2. Events which are caused can either go back infinitely (so that there is an infinite regression of causes), or there is one Cause which is itself uncaused.
3. Even if there is an infinite regression of causes, we can still ask, why this causal chain?
4. If an infinite regression of causes is not possible, there must be something like a first cause.
5. So, either there is a first cause which itself has no causes, or there is a reason for the existence of an infinite causal chain.
6. This second thing, a "reason for the infinite causal chain," is really not substantively different from the Uncaused Cause: it is an uncaused cause, in a sense, since it is the basis for the possibility of the causal chain, in a sense.
7. So, an Uncaused Cause is a reasonable belief.
I've given a really light version of the argument, obviously, and haven't looked at it in a long time, so go easy on me here. But basically you get the idea. It seems like at some point, for cause to make sense, one has to posit something which can give rise to ordinary cause but is itself somehow special. This thing is what is called God by Aquinas. We don't have to do that, however. We can simply admit that either there is a First Cause, the nature of which would not be caused or it wouldn't be the first cause, or there is a Cause for Infinitely Temporal Causes, which would be also a sort of uncaused cause; whatever it looks like, we'll call it God for short, would not have a cause. Note, however, that this could also not be random, because randomness is really either 1. causes we don't understand or 2. something happening for no reason. The Uncaused Cause doesn't happen for 'no reason,' ITSELF is the reason for its existence. It is the nature of causality itself, and is exactly the opposite of the notion of randomness. All regular causes, you see, are sort of partial. This means that they owe their existence to some other cause. Randomness could only admit itself, I think, in the realm of partial causes. The Uncaused Cause cannot have such partiality because it cannot be caused into being; it is causally "full." But, in this sense, it is also causally "free." It is not caused, and it is not random.
I propose that this Uncaused Cause, if we can assume that such a thing exists (even if we are not willing to call it God for the purposes of this argument) could be partaken of by human consciousness in a lesser sense. I don't propose that human beings are Uncaused Causes, but that human will could have a power analogous to uncaused causality. It would not be a true uncaused cause, because human beings are caused into existence, and therefore so are their wills. But the development of the human will, in the process of understanding the world around it and comprehending the concept of cause within its own choices, may become a sort of lesser version, a mirror if you will, of Uncaused Causality. If one accepts theism, this is a lot easier to swallow: we simply can believe that God imparts, in some way, a sort of representation of Uncaused Causality, what we in our day to day lives experience as free will. It does have cause involved, it is not causally free, but its design is to, within certain contexts, behave in a fashion analogous to the Uncaused Cause, which allows the human will to transcend the caused/random dilemma of the hard determinist. Exactly how this would work isn't clear to me, and it seems like some details still need fleshing out. It seems like the "Uncaused Causality" of humans is perhaps limited in this way: there have to be certain causes already in effect (what we could call freedom factors, if we like alliteration) which permit the human will to be exercised freely. This would include: being born, not being brain washed, not being coerced, and other factors we might say could encroach on the designed, "caused" Uncausality of causation (whew!) that God created in us. Free will is thus a contingency and still demands certain limitations on libertarian thought; it certainly would be less free than Kant's libertarianism. But it seems like a possibility, at any rate.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Free Will and Romantic Imagination
In the previous post, I involved the imagination in the defense of free will. It was more of a sideline premise in supporting my argument; here the imagination takes center stage.
Recall that the hard determinist's metaphysical argument against free will is, roughly summarized, that because things in the universe can only be caused or random (or maybe some combination thereof), free will is an incoherent notion. My reply is that causation and randomness are both concepts created by the mind in order to understand the universe; while they may have a basis in reality, "cause" is a narrative created by an observer to "explain" an event. The first argument I posted attempted to posit a third way things can exist, that is to say, in a state of "fixed arbitration" which is somehow neither caused nor random. The second argument I posted argues that free will seems metaphysically possible from the fact that it is imaginable, regardless of our status as free or unfree. My argument here is that, as a method of understanding the world, the logic of hard determinism, while generally valid, becomes problematic when applied to the function of human thought in a draconic fashion. It is generally a good precept to assume that there is a logical reason for phenomenon in the universe, but this precept is one used for apprehension of the ostensibly non-conscious universe. For consciousness to work, logic must be assumed to work. However, if we are to join the hard determinist in attempting to explain conscious thought in a formula such as theirs against free will, then the logic which they use to disprove free will is as much available for philosophical attack as free will itself.
So, then, why should our beliefs be logical? A "logical" reason is not enough. We could say that the reason beliefs should be logical is that is what rational beings do; they use logic. But "rational" has the word logic hidden in it. Indeed, it seems difficult to answer the question, "Why should beliefs be logical?" without sneaking in the word logic somewhere. Certainly, the logician can reply, well, logic is to be augmented by the senses and emotion, and this is to be agreed. But why should we believe that this pairing is to be trusted? After all, the senses and logic have, when working together, failed human beings in the past. And, if we are going to let the senses enter into this philosophical conversation, we could possibly suggest that I "sense" that my actions are free; should not our logic admit the truth of that perception?
However, the logicians attempt to answer that beliefs should be logical ultimately pushes us either into a circle, or admit that there is another sort of faculty which we must look to. "Experience" which shows us that logic is reliable is not a good enough explanation, for it takes logic to show us that experience is valuable, much the same as it takes logic for repeated exposure to phenomenon to ever become induction. Without logic, any senses are simply inarticulate blobs of experience which cannot admit knowledge; but why does belief seem more trustworthy when it is supported with logic than not? There is no way getting around this fact: beliefs which are shown to be logical to the mind are more believable. But the belief, "Beliefs are better if logical," cannot come from logic, for circular reasoning is forbidden by logic. And sensory experience, as well as cultural experience, cannot supply the answer, because without logic these are all merely amorphous, unconnected feelings that have no "logic" to them - that we are so convinced that these disparate experiences can be bound up in logic suggests a faith which, in some sense, goes beyond logic. I propose this belief, "Beliefs should be logical," comes not from a principle of logic (or it would be circular) but from a different sort of belief-forming principle or faculty, the imagination.
Now, it may seem too quick to assume that there is a whole faculty from the discovery of a single principle which is not strictly logical. Again, some exchange between reason and the senses could be argued to create this principle, but I believe that position devolves into incoherence, as I hope I have sufficiently shown above. In case not, let me repeat it in another way: Should we say that belief in logic's place in belief forming comes from the senses, we are pre-supposing the role of the senses as supplying fuel for logic to work with, thus implicitly admitting logic into our answer. We need to fully abolish logic for a brief moment to satisfy the logician's demands of non-circular reasoning, and the only way to do so is to suppose a mental faculty which is non-rational. This faculty must, in some ways, be sort of like reason and sort of like the senses. It is like reason in that it is not experienced as part of the world as the senses are; we do not "sense" mathematics in the world, strictly speaking, much as we do not "sense" the fact that "beliefs should be logical." However, like the senses, this faculty has the inability to disagree with what it experiences. So, while rationally someone may posit that not all beliefs need be logical, whether they believe this is controlled by this other faculty. Reason is, in some ways, more at our disposal, because we can let it move out of the realm of our actual beliefs. This faculty, in a strange way, is out of our control (though not completely), but is at least difficult for us to manage, as the senses are difficult for us to manage, because we cannot argue with what it tells us to belief very easily. So when we are told, "Beliefs should be logical," it comes with a force which is so powerful, even asking the question seems preposterous, although we cannot clearly articulate why.
Further, I argue that since this faculty exists, we should suspect that it will be involved in other belief forming activities. It may be the case that "Beliefs should be logical" is the only use of this faculty, but that would be odd, and once admitting to the existence of the faculty, ruling out its use in other cognition seems baseless. After all, if I can prove to you that only one unicorn exists, or only one Hittite, then you will be less skeptical that other unicorns or other Hittites do in fact exist. As it stands, I have no unicorns, but Hittites have been found, so it will be easy to convince you that Hittites other than thee ones we exactly know about have been around; as for unicorns, it's hard to convince you of the third and twentieth unicorns if I haven't proven the first. Should the role of the imaginative faculty in "Beliefs should be logical" draw any support from my reader, then it should be agreed easily that the imaginative faculty must have a role in other belief forming principles. I argue, then, that free will is one of these beliefs. Free will is a belief which we may disagree with rationally, and yet even the hard determinist thinks about things to make decisions on them. They may not want to call this free will, but if a hard determinist is thinking, "Should I turn off the television and go to bed, or watch one more episode?" the hard determinist has the experience that either option is possible. He may not rationally belief this to be free, but that experience is, indeed, the definition of freedom: that two different options are actually possible at one moment. And indeed, the hard determinist does, I think, experience that both are possible, even if he would rationally tell us that he believes this experience to be an illusion. This demonstrates, I think, that the free will belief is like the "Beliefs should be logical belief," and other beliefs which arise out of the Romantic imagination proposed by Wordsworth, Coleridge and Blake. Should we have come this far, to admit the existence of the imagination and admit its role in the premise of logical beliefs, to reject its validity in its role in the belief of free will would undermine its role in the belief of logical beliefs. I submit, therefore, that free will is a power of the mind discovered by the imagination, which makes sense why the hard determinist, in attempting to explain decision making through logic alone, must necessarily fail.
Recall that the hard determinist's metaphysical argument against free will is, roughly summarized, that because things in the universe can only be caused or random (or maybe some combination thereof), free will is an incoherent notion. My reply is that causation and randomness are both concepts created by the mind in order to understand the universe; while they may have a basis in reality, "cause" is a narrative created by an observer to "explain" an event. The first argument I posted attempted to posit a third way things can exist, that is to say, in a state of "fixed arbitration" which is somehow neither caused nor random. The second argument I posted argues that free will seems metaphysically possible from the fact that it is imaginable, regardless of our status as free or unfree. My argument here is that, as a method of understanding the world, the logic of hard determinism, while generally valid, becomes problematic when applied to the function of human thought in a draconic fashion. It is generally a good precept to assume that there is a logical reason for phenomenon in the universe, but this precept is one used for apprehension of the ostensibly non-conscious universe. For consciousness to work, logic must be assumed to work. However, if we are to join the hard determinist in attempting to explain conscious thought in a formula such as theirs against free will, then the logic which they use to disprove free will is as much available for philosophical attack as free will itself.
So, then, why should our beliefs be logical? A "logical" reason is not enough. We could say that the reason beliefs should be logical is that is what rational beings do; they use logic. But "rational" has the word logic hidden in it. Indeed, it seems difficult to answer the question, "Why should beliefs be logical?" without sneaking in the word logic somewhere. Certainly, the logician can reply, well, logic is to be augmented by the senses and emotion, and this is to be agreed. But why should we believe that this pairing is to be trusted? After all, the senses and logic have, when working together, failed human beings in the past. And, if we are going to let the senses enter into this philosophical conversation, we could possibly suggest that I "sense" that my actions are free; should not our logic admit the truth of that perception?
However, the logicians attempt to answer that beliefs should be logical ultimately pushes us either into a circle, or admit that there is another sort of faculty which we must look to. "Experience" which shows us that logic is reliable is not a good enough explanation, for it takes logic to show us that experience is valuable, much the same as it takes logic for repeated exposure to phenomenon to ever become induction. Without logic, any senses are simply inarticulate blobs of experience which cannot admit knowledge; but why does belief seem more trustworthy when it is supported with logic than not? There is no way getting around this fact: beliefs which are shown to be logical to the mind are more believable. But the belief, "Beliefs are better if logical," cannot come from logic, for circular reasoning is forbidden by logic. And sensory experience, as well as cultural experience, cannot supply the answer, because without logic these are all merely amorphous, unconnected feelings that have no "logic" to them - that we are so convinced that these disparate experiences can be bound up in logic suggests a faith which, in some sense, goes beyond logic. I propose this belief, "Beliefs should be logical," comes not from a principle of logic (or it would be circular) but from a different sort of belief-forming principle or faculty, the imagination.
Now, it may seem too quick to assume that there is a whole faculty from the discovery of a single principle which is not strictly logical. Again, some exchange between reason and the senses could be argued to create this principle, but I believe that position devolves into incoherence, as I hope I have sufficiently shown above. In case not, let me repeat it in another way: Should we say that belief in logic's place in belief forming comes from the senses, we are pre-supposing the role of the senses as supplying fuel for logic to work with, thus implicitly admitting logic into our answer. We need to fully abolish logic for a brief moment to satisfy the logician's demands of non-circular reasoning, and the only way to do so is to suppose a mental faculty which is non-rational. This faculty must, in some ways, be sort of like reason and sort of like the senses. It is like reason in that it is not experienced as part of the world as the senses are; we do not "sense" mathematics in the world, strictly speaking, much as we do not "sense" the fact that "beliefs should be logical." However, like the senses, this faculty has the inability to disagree with what it experiences. So, while rationally someone may posit that not all beliefs need be logical, whether they believe this is controlled by this other faculty. Reason is, in some ways, more at our disposal, because we can let it move out of the realm of our actual beliefs. This faculty, in a strange way, is out of our control (though not completely), but is at least difficult for us to manage, as the senses are difficult for us to manage, because we cannot argue with what it tells us to belief very easily. So when we are told, "Beliefs should be logical," it comes with a force which is so powerful, even asking the question seems preposterous, although we cannot clearly articulate why.
Further, I argue that since this faculty exists, we should suspect that it will be involved in other belief forming activities. It may be the case that "Beliefs should be logical" is the only use of this faculty, but that would be odd, and once admitting to the existence of the faculty, ruling out its use in other cognition seems baseless. After all, if I can prove to you that only one unicorn exists, or only one Hittite, then you will be less skeptical that other unicorns or other Hittites do in fact exist. As it stands, I have no unicorns, but Hittites have been found, so it will be easy to convince you that Hittites other than thee ones we exactly know about have been around; as for unicorns, it's hard to convince you of the third and twentieth unicorns if I haven't proven the first. Should the role of the imaginative faculty in "Beliefs should be logical" draw any support from my reader, then it should be agreed easily that the imaginative faculty must have a role in other belief forming principles. I argue, then, that free will is one of these beliefs. Free will is a belief which we may disagree with rationally, and yet even the hard determinist thinks about things to make decisions on them. They may not want to call this free will, but if a hard determinist is thinking, "Should I turn off the television and go to bed, or watch one more episode?" the hard determinist has the experience that either option is possible. He may not rationally belief this to be free, but that experience is, indeed, the definition of freedom: that two different options are actually possible at one moment. And indeed, the hard determinist does, I think, experience that both are possible, even if he would rationally tell us that he believes this experience to be an illusion. This demonstrates, I think, that the free will belief is like the "Beliefs should be logical belief," and other beliefs which arise out of the Romantic imagination proposed by Wordsworth, Coleridge and Blake. Should we have come this far, to admit the existence of the imagination and admit its role in the premise of logical beliefs, to reject its validity in its role in the belief of free will would undermine its role in the belief of logical beliefs. I submit, therefore, that free will is a power of the mind discovered by the imagination, which makes sense why the hard determinist, in attempting to explain decision making through logic alone, must necessarily fail.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
The Nature of Experience
Alright, I just think it is time to slap up another one of my free will arguments. I've been away for way too long at this point, and my philosophy is rustier than the Platonic Form of Rust. So forgive me if I am a little convoluted or am just spewing nonsense!
This is the argument from Number 1: The Nature of Experience. My argument here is that it is in the nature of feeling free that demonstrates the metaphysical possibility of free will, regardless of whether we are actually free. Unlike my previous post, I am not here arguing against the specific tenets of hard determinism; that is to say, I am not arguing against the premise that our choices are either caused or random. I am merely positing that there is something about the experience which makes it true.
Now, we can reasonably assume that many things we experience make something metaphysically possible, but not nomologically possible.. If I believe that I am stronger than a lion, my experience of this belief does not change anything. I can believe this wholeheartedly, but that does not alter whether I am actually stronger than a lion. However, in terms of pure possibility, I could be stronger than a lion. Seeing as though I never work out and have poor eating habits, and am of a species which is generally weaker than a lion, the possibility of my strength surpassing such a creature is pretty small. However, it seems that it is logically possible that we could live in a world where I am stronger than a lion, or a person very much like me is stronger than a lion. Circumstances of environment, evolution, habit, and so forth prevent this from being the case, but insofar as it can be imagined, it is theoretically possible.
On the other hand, there are some things which are theoretically impossible. It is impossible for a shape to be both square and triangle at the same time, and truly be those shapes. It is impossible for 2+2 to come out with anything other than 4, provided that we are thinking about the meaning of the signs and not the signs themselves. These tend to be mathematical, I suppose. I cannot think of any logical impossibilities which are not definitional or mathematical. A bachelor cannot be married, you cannot divide by zero. Things which seem contradictory in our world are often not in this loose realm of possibility: I could run faster than myself if I go back to when I am a baby and run around my earlier self as an older, faster self. But there are still certain things which can't happen: I can't be in two places at once as the same myself (the present and past mes are not actually the same self). The question is, does the nature of choice fall into these kinds of possibility? Is free will logically impossible?
Well, let's see. I can imagine myself eating a bowl of cereal, or not eating a bowl of cereal. Both scenarios are equally imaginable, whereas the concept of something really being two and another thing really being two and really adding them together and getting five is simply not imaginable. Perhaps, in fact, I am just fooled. I mean, I can imagine the earth being flat, but that doesn't make the earth flat. However, the flatness of the earth is not the same as possibility. The imagination can fool us into thinking something is real when it is not if it is logically possible; but logical impossibilities do not seem imaginable. Even with the hard determinist's argument in line, I can consistently imagine myself choosing to eat a bowl of cereal or to, say, hang-glide, instead. (Note that I am using imagination in the most basic sense, not the more loaded Romantic sense I will employ later for another blog. Also note that while I am using possibility in multiple blogs, the logic is not circular since these are separate arguments).
Perhaps we do not understand what we are imagining. I may not understand my mental faculties, may not understand the ways in which social norms, evolution, biology and other factors are influencing my choices. Perhaps if I did understand myself and the universe perfectly, imagining two possible actions would be impossible. These, unfortunately, are bad examples, though, because they are all arguments which proceed from things which operate in a realm of post-nomological possibility. That is to say, those things influencing my decision are not due to the metaphysical nature of choice, but to circumstances which may or may not impede my ability to choose. For example, if we say that I have the ability to walk, and then tie my legs to a chair, I still, in a sense, have the ability to walk. Circumstances have prevented me from being able to use that ability, but it is still a present ability. This too is a miss analogy, since it is still looking at the problem within post-nomological possibility. So we will remove it further: Let us say that my legs are cut off. We can still say that, if I had legs, I would be able to walk, since logically the metaphysical concept of walking is acceptable. So any arguments which say that we do not have free will because of fate, social construction, or other nomological and post-nomological circumstances, fail to appreciate the question of free will in terms of a pure metaphysics.
The argument of hard determinism operates in a pure logic world, and attempts to establish free will as false because actions can only either be caused or random. It is metaphysically in the nature of a person's choice, they say, that those choices be caused or random. My response to this is that metaphysical impossibilities cannot be imagined, and free will can be imagined. This is sort of like hunger. If I experience hunger, then I know that hunger is a real thing to experience. Even if a scientist is tweaking a brain in a vat that thinks it is Anthony, that mental state is experiencing something which really exists. More precisely phrased, feeling hungry makes you hungry. If I am physically satisfied, but have a disorder which makes me hungry when I have eaten enough, it is not that I am fooled into thinking I am hungry when I am not. It is in the nature of feeling hungry that makes one hungry; feeling as though you are in pain makes you actually in pain, even if what you think is causing you pain is actually not, and it is only your perception that it hurts which is making you hurt. I submit that free will is of this category of experience, that the sensation of freeness is what makes one free. Now, a scientist may learn to make a brain in a vat feel free, and so we can say, ah, but free will could still merely be an illusion! Here is where it gets tricky.
It is simpler with hunger, because the experience of hunger makes you hungry. On the other hand, one might experience no freedom and yet have free will, ostensibly, and one might experience freedom in a situation where one is not really free. The qualia of freeness does not mean that you are able to act upon your freedom: it is simply the imaginable experience of freedom which makes freedom possible. In other words, if I am sitting here feeling unfree, I can still imagine a situation where I do feel free, and so in a sense am still experiencing myself as the kind of being who COULD have free will. Essentially, the experience of this concept of freedom, not the experience of freedom itself, is much like experiencing hunger. Having experienced the concept of free will, I know that it is a possible state, because logical impossibilities cannot be admitted into the imagination. This is a sort of Cartesian argument, I suppose, and the strongest argument against it remains that we could be fooled that something is possible, when it is not. I reply that if this is the case, then we must come to question a great many other things which we deem possible. Furthermore, if we can be fooled that something is logically possible, then we could also be fooled whether something is logically impossible. If that is the case, and whether something can be imagined as impossible is not a valid test, then the concept of logical impossibility falls apart, and we are left in a world of total possibility, where even logic provides no impossibilities. If this happens then the hard determinist argument fails, since they use logic to disprove free will. So, logical impossibilities are needed because nomological and post-nomological arguments cannot disprove free will, but the fact that it is simply a person's judgment which renders a concept as logically impossible or possible which further makes it possible that I could choose to do A or B. I can consistently imagine myself doing either A or B; in other words, I experience myself as a free being whose freedom may be limited, or not limited, by circumstances. The hard determinist argument may cause me to say, "I cannot explain how a choice can be neither caused nor random," however, I can still hold this in view and experience myself as a being who can do A or B. Because their argument does not render this capability void, because when I go to make a choice I still see myself as being able to make a choice, the nature of this experience of freedom indicates that I am actually free.
This is the argument from Number 1: The Nature of Experience. My argument here is that it is in the nature of feeling free that demonstrates the metaphysical possibility of free will, regardless of whether we are actually free. Unlike my previous post, I am not here arguing against the specific tenets of hard determinism; that is to say, I am not arguing against the premise that our choices are either caused or random. I am merely positing that there is something about the experience which makes it true.
Now, we can reasonably assume that many things we experience make something metaphysically possible, but not nomologically possible.. If I believe that I am stronger than a lion, my experience of this belief does not change anything. I can believe this wholeheartedly, but that does not alter whether I am actually stronger than a lion. However, in terms of pure possibility, I could be stronger than a lion. Seeing as though I never work out and have poor eating habits, and am of a species which is generally weaker than a lion, the possibility of my strength surpassing such a creature is pretty small. However, it seems that it is logically possible that we could live in a world where I am stronger than a lion, or a person very much like me is stronger than a lion. Circumstances of environment, evolution, habit, and so forth prevent this from being the case, but insofar as it can be imagined, it is theoretically possible.
On the other hand, there are some things which are theoretically impossible. It is impossible for a shape to be both square and triangle at the same time, and truly be those shapes. It is impossible for 2+2 to come out with anything other than 4, provided that we are thinking about the meaning of the signs and not the signs themselves. These tend to be mathematical, I suppose. I cannot think of any logical impossibilities which are not definitional or mathematical. A bachelor cannot be married, you cannot divide by zero. Things which seem contradictory in our world are often not in this loose realm of possibility: I could run faster than myself if I go back to when I am a baby and run around my earlier self as an older, faster self. But there are still certain things which can't happen: I can't be in two places at once as the same myself (the present and past mes are not actually the same self). The question is, does the nature of choice fall into these kinds of possibility? Is free will logically impossible?
Well, let's see. I can imagine myself eating a bowl of cereal, or not eating a bowl of cereal. Both scenarios are equally imaginable, whereas the concept of something really being two and another thing really being two and really adding them together and getting five is simply not imaginable. Perhaps, in fact, I am just fooled. I mean, I can imagine the earth being flat, but that doesn't make the earth flat. However, the flatness of the earth is not the same as possibility. The imagination can fool us into thinking something is real when it is not if it is logically possible; but logical impossibilities do not seem imaginable. Even with the hard determinist's argument in line, I can consistently imagine myself choosing to eat a bowl of cereal or to, say, hang-glide, instead. (Note that I am using imagination in the most basic sense, not the more loaded Romantic sense I will employ later for another blog. Also note that while I am using possibility in multiple blogs, the logic is not circular since these are separate arguments).
Perhaps we do not understand what we are imagining. I may not understand my mental faculties, may not understand the ways in which social norms, evolution, biology and other factors are influencing my choices. Perhaps if I did understand myself and the universe perfectly, imagining two possible actions would be impossible. These, unfortunately, are bad examples, though, because they are all arguments which proceed from things which operate in a realm of post-nomological possibility. That is to say, those things influencing my decision are not due to the metaphysical nature of choice, but to circumstances which may or may not impede my ability to choose. For example, if we say that I have the ability to walk, and then tie my legs to a chair, I still, in a sense, have the ability to walk. Circumstances have prevented me from being able to use that ability, but it is still a present ability. This too is a miss analogy, since it is still looking at the problem within post-nomological possibility. So we will remove it further: Let us say that my legs are cut off. We can still say that, if I had legs, I would be able to walk, since logically the metaphysical concept of walking is acceptable. So any arguments which say that we do not have free will because of fate, social construction, or other nomological and post-nomological circumstances, fail to appreciate the question of free will in terms of a pure metaphysics.
The argument of hard determinism operates in a pure logic world, and attempts to establish free will as false because actions can only either be caused or random. It is metaphysically in the nature of a person's choice, they say, that those choices be caused or random. My response to this is that metaphysical impossibilities cannot be imagined, and free will can be imagined. This is sort of like hunger. If I experience hunger, then I know that hunger is a real thing to experience. Even if a scientist is tweaking a brain in a vat that thinks it is Anthony, that mental state is experiencing something which really exists. More precisely phrased, feeling hungry makes you hungry. If I am physically satisfied, but have a disorder which makes me hungry when I have eaten enough, it is not that I am fooled into thinking I am hungry when I am not. It is in the nature of feeling hungry that makes one hungry; feeling as though you are in pain makes you actually in pain, even if what you think is causing you pain is actually not, and it is only your perception that it hurts which is making you hurt. I submit that free will is of this category of experience, that the sensation of freeness is what makes one free. Now, a scientist may learn to make a brain in a vat feel free, and so we can say, ah, but free will could still merely be an illusion! Here is where it gets tricky.
It is simpler with hunger, because the experience of hunger makes you hungry. On the other hand, one might experience no freedom and yet have free will, ostensibly, and one might experience freedom in a situation where one is not really free. The qualia of freeness does not mean that you are able to act upon your freedom: it is simply the imaginable experience of freedom which makes freedom possible. In other words, if I am sitting here feeling unfree, I can still imagine a situation where I do feel free, and so in a sense am still experiencing myself as the kind of being who COULD have free will. Essentially, the experience of this concept of freedom, not the experience of freedom itself, is much like experiencing hunger. Having experienced the concept of free will, I know that it is a possible state, because logical impossibilities cannot be admitted into the imagination. This is a sort of Cartesian argument, I suppose, and the strongest argument against it remains that we could be fooled that something is possible, when it is not. I reply that if this is the case, then we must come to question a great many other things which we deem possible. Furthermore, if we can be fooled that something is logically possible, then we could also be fooled whether something is logically impossible. If that is the case, and whether something can be imagined as impossible is not a valid test, then the concept of logical impossibility falls apart, and we are left in a world of total possibility, where even logic provides no impossibilities. If this happens then the hard determinist argument fails, since they use logic to disprove free will. So, logical impossibilities are needed because nomological and post-nomological arguments cannot disprove free will, but the fact that it is simply a person's judgment which renders a concept as logically impossible or possible which further makes it possible that I could choose to do A or B. I can consistently imagine myself doing either A or B; in other words, I experience myself as a free being whose freedom may be limited, or not limited, by circumstances. The hard determinist argument may cause me to say, "I cannot explain how a choice can be neither caused nor random," however, I can still hold this in view and experience myself as a being who can do A or B. Because their argument does not render this capability void, because when I go to make a choice I still see myself as being able to make a choice, the nature of this experience of freedom indicates that I am actually free.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Free Will, “Fixed Arbitration” and Property Dualism
Free Will, “Fixed Arbitration” and Property Dualism
I will let the previous section stand as an introduction for what I am trying to do here, and just jump right into the discussion. This is the argument listed in the introduction as 2. The Argument from Qualia: This is what blue feels like, though I hope to be expanding it simply from the concept of qualia.
Mental states, as with words, can be considered to be a fixed arbitration. Now, fixed is not so simple as “permanent” – there is the concept of connection here, a relationship that is steady but not unchangeable. When we agree on the meaning of “cat,” this word is fixed to the idea of the actual animal. This connection is arbitrary insofar as there is no real reason for “cat” to mean cat, other than we have fixed it there. But even somehow our fixing it there does not explain the real relationship between the three letters and the feline, for even had we never chosen to use “cat” for cat, “cat” could always mean cat. There is no reason for it not to mean cat, and there is no reason for it to mean cat – but in terms of possibility “cat” always possibly means cat and also always possibly does not. It is a fixed possibility, but not a necessary one, and therefore it is arbitrary. That is to say, in whatever world we imagine “cat” to mean or not to mean cat, it is always fixed and it is always arbitrary.
I am tempted to say that the fixed, in this sense, may always needs be arbitrary, but I will back off from that, as I am not yet certain. But we can say that language is fixed in two senses: one, that any linguistic unit could or could not mean any relationship, and two, that it is made to represent or not by the culture using it. In both stages the relationship is arbitrary, but fixed.
Now, we can say that the relationship between a person’s physical arrangement and mental state is, in fact, similar if not identical to this notion of fixed arbitration. In terms of symbolic cognition one could simply argue that since words are fixed arbitrations (by words here I mean a perception of a thing where the mind is aware that it is perceiving that thing, a very broad definition I realize), and we think in words, our minds operate with fixed arbitrations. But this would only involve the tools, and not our minds (by minds I mean minds, not brains). What I seek here is to say that, minimally, mental states are fixed arbitrations – that perhaps, furthermore, we as human persons are fixed arbitrations.
But I must slow down and carefully how why I would dare say such a thing. I begin with David Chalmers and his concept of property dualism. He argues, effectively I believe, that the experience of a thing cannot be reduced to the physical nature of that same experience. In other words, he would say that the experience of pain is not fully contingent upon its physical companion. This is so because we can imagine: 1. A different physical structure having the same felt mental state. 2. A mind comprehending the full physical structure but not the experience itself. So the physical structure does in fact explain one sense of why its qualitative mental impression exists: because that is the relationship which, in this universe, exists. When things are arranged for something to appear blue to an eye, it does so. And that arrangement is incredibly precise and beautiful in its own right. But in terms of a pure logic, there is no reason for the thing to be blue with that arrangement other than, that qualitative state and that physical state are in relationship in this world, but not necessarily in others. This is my understanding of property dualism.
In other words, we can say that the qualitative experience of pain is only connected to its quantitative (physical) counterpart through fixed arbitration. Like in language, X nerves experiencing Y stimulus causes Z pain is in terms of pure biological possibility fixed, for it is always possible that pinching my arm hurts or not, and therefore arbitrary. So we could see the structure of pain-feeling nerves like the “words,” and the qualitative experience of pain like the meaning the words imply.
Now it may be objected that how we reach these experiences is not arbitrary. How a nervous system came to be able to experience pain (God or evolution or both), caused it to be so, how I came to be pinched was for teasing my sister, etc. But this argument has missed the point. Certainly an etymologist can chart the path of how “cat” has come to mean cat, but this does not make, in terms of pure possibility, it any less fixed or arbitrary when “cat” in fact means cat. It is the same, then, with the mental experiences of a physical brain. A scientist has the pleasure of exploring how a physical brain and a mental experience do in fact match up, but that a scientist can do so with excruciating detail does not change the fact that the relationship could have been different. So I submit mental states of humans to be fixed abstractions.
Here is the crucial piece. Let us agree for now that mental states are fixed abstractions. Let us say that hard determinism holds cause is not free, and that randomness is not free. Is the word “cat” random or caused? Well in a sense its use is caused by society, but as I have demonstrated above this sort of cause does not change its arbitrary nature. It is also not random, for it is fixed in both possibility and actuality. Sure we could use a new word, but “Cat” exists through fixed arbitration first, not causal relationship, not caused because it is arbitrary, and not random, because it is fixed. So too with mental states – they are a fixed arbitration, a way of existing similar to all words.
So when I choose to eat a sandwich, you can give physicalist diagrams about it, but the why of it, my mental state, my state of choosing, exists alongside the physical state as a fixed arbitration. That is to say, simply, it exists freely – in principle neither causally nor randomly.
Whew. Please leave objections or comments in the comment section, and I will make a new post in reply. Four more to go!
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