Home > Uncategorized > A Central “Argument” in Feser’s Final Chapter, “Aristotle’s Revenge”

A Central “Argument” in Feser’s Final Chapter, “Aristotle’s Revenge”

I really am getting a bit fed up with the claim that I have misrepresented Feser’s “argument.” If I have done so it was certainly not deliberate. Here is an example of the way Feser argues. It is, other than the place where he claims to have shown that “the human mind is the example par excellence of an irreducibly teleological phenomenon,” the central “argument” of the chapter. Now, perhaps there is an argument here and I am not seeing it, but what I see is assertion, and an appeal to authority. He claims to be showing that teleology is irreducible, but I can’t see the argument itself. Perhaps others can:

Take the currently most popular strategy for “naturalizing” teleology, which is associated with the philosophers Ruth Millikan and (another old pal of ours) Daniel Dennett.29 Here, as pretty much everywhere else according to some Darwinians, evolution itself solves every problem and wipes the tear from every eye. To say that the kidneys existing in such-and-such an organism have the “function” of purifying its blood amounts to something like this: Those ancestors of this organism who first developed kidneys (as a result of a random genetic mutation) tended to survive in greater numbers than those without kidneys, because their blood got purified; and this caused the gene for kidneys to get passed on to the organism in question and others like it. To say that an organ’s function (now) is to do X is therefore shorthand for saying that it was selected for by evolution because its earliest ancestors did X. And there you go; we’ve thereby shown (or at least we will have with a few refinements and qualifications) that teleology is “reducible” to efficient causes after all. Another victory for naturalism, Enlightenment, secularism, and all-around niceness, and all made possible, as usual, through the intercession of St. Charles of the Galapagos.

Or at least it would be if it so obviously were not. One rather absurd implication of this theory is that you can’t really know what the function of an organ is until you know something about its evolutionary history. But as Jerry Fodor has noted, “you don’t have to know how hands (or hearts, or eyes, or livers) evolved to make a pretty shrewd guess about what they are for.”30 Another absurd implication is that nothing that didn’t evolve could possibly have a biological function; indeed, the first kidneys, according to this theory, didn’t have any function, because, being the result of a random genetic mutation, they hadn’t been “selected for” by evolution. But (as, again, Fodor points out) given that it is at least theoretically possible that Darwin might have been wrong (as even the most diehard evolutionist would concede, though you can never be too sure), then if it turned out that kidneys did not evolve after all, it is hard to believe that this would show that they really serve no function.31 Or consider “swampman,” a creature familiar to those readers who like to peruse academic philosophy journals (all three of you).32 Swampman, let’s imagine, came about as a result of a freak accident in which lightning struck a pool of chemical waste in a swamp somewhere and produced a particle-for-particle duplicate of a living human being. Hence swampman walks, talks, and in every other way behaves just like you do. Now, do swampman’s kidneys, eyes, ears, etc., have functions? Surely they do — the same functions that your kidneys, eyes, ears, etc., have. But the theory in question would have to deny that they have any function at all, given that swampman was not the product of natural selection.

The main problem with the theory in question, however, is the one emphasized by John Searle, namely that natural selection simply has nothing whatsoever to do with teleology or natural functions, and that that is indeed the very point of appeals to natural selection.33 To say that such-and-such an organ was selected for by evolution is not to “analyze” or “explain” how it has the function it does, but rather to imply that it has no function at all but only seems to. It is, as noted above, to eliminate teleology. Hence any attempt to “reduce,” “analyze,” or “explain” teleology or function in Darwinian terms is simply muddleheaded, an exercise in changing the subject while pretending not to. Darwinians should, in Searle’s view, stop trying incoherently to incorporate the idea of natural function into their account of the world, and recognize that biological phenomena are “entirely devoid of purpose or teleology” and that “teleological features are entirely in the mind of the observer. “34

Sound advice, except that it is impossible to follow. As noted above, the concept of function is absolutely indispensable to ordinary biological research. (If you don’t believe me, try giving an accurate and informative description of some organism and its various component parts that makes no reference whatsoever to function, purpose, or related notions.) You can say, if you want to, that in some particular context talk about functions is mere shorthand for talk about complex patterns of efficient causation, but in that case teleology will simply rear its head somewhere else instead. Indeed, it does so in Searle’s own proposal: He says that the functions we see in biological organs are not really there objectively but exist only “relative to an observer who assigns a normative value to the causal processes.”35 But “assigning a normative value” is itself an instance of teleology or goal-directedness. In particular, it is an instance of the sort of teleology that essentially characterizes creatures with minds, and as we have seen, the human mind is the example par excellence of an irreducibly teleological phenomenon. (250-252)

This, suggests D Guller, is an argument that atheists can accept (because Searle is an atheist too). But is it an argument? Or does he simply repeat what he’s already said? “This is what evolutionists say, but this isn’t so, because, you see, this is what evolutionists say.” Where has he shown here, and where has he argued, that someone who holds that all the life forms on earth have come about by means of blind selective forces working on random variations cannot use teleological language without assuming that teleology is irreducible? Yes, I know, he tells us that Searle suggests that evolutionary biologists get rid of teleological language, but has Feser given them any reason here for thinking that they should?

Take swampman, for instance. He is an imaginary creature like us in all ways except that he didn’t (let us suppose) evolve that way. Well, of course, we can discern function in swampman, because he’s like us in every way! But in what way would evolutionary theory say that his various limbs and organs have no function? After all, while it is true that before Darwin came along, we knew very well, or could make a shrewd guess, at the function of a limb or organ, we may very well have been wrong, and find out later, upon further investigation, that the organ or part turned out to have quite a different function, and played a very different role in the animal’s survivability. Or take the argument (if that is what it is) that “ the first kidneys, according to this theory, didn’t have any function, because, being the result of a random genetic mutation, they hadn’t been “selected for” by evolution.” Of course, this is hopelessly simplistic. As I understand it, a random mutation doesn’t, in itself, have a function, so the first kidneys or their precursors must have been selected for, and must make some contribution to the animal’s survivability, otherwise they are simply what Jacques Monod called “noise”. But, again, isn’t Feser just repeating what he said at the outset, and telling us that it makes no sense?  What has he shown? I suppose it’s an argument if arguments in a circle count. But my question is: Given this argument, has Feser got out of it more than he put in? If so, I can’t see it.

And notice, this is not a claim, it’s a question. It has been said that I am missing Feser’s argument. If so, would someone please point it out to me.

Categories: Uncategorized
  1. Patrick who is not Patrick
    20 August 2011 at 14:02 | #1

    And this is an example of Feser taking Rhetorical Option 1 from my post in the previous thread. He believes his point to be self evident, so when people don’t agree with it, he just re-explains it in hopes that this time you will understand and it will become self evident to you.

  2. 20 August 2011 at 14:02 | #2

    One rather absurd implication of this theory is that you can’t really know what the function of an organ is until you know something about its evolutionary history.

    What an absurd assertion. Eyes have evolved several times in quite different ways, but we can certainly understand the function of any particular eye without knowing which evolutionary history applies. Feser seems to be smuggling in teleology by conflating “function” with “purpose”.

    Jerry Fodor used to be a nice, witty, engaging philosopher until he went off on this bizarre anti-Darwinian jag. (Personally I think he’s just jealous that Dan Dennett sells more books than he does, so he’s chosen to play the role of “anti-Dennett” contrarian.) Fodor’s arguments have been comprehensively refuted; unfortunately Feser doesn’t seem to be aware of this.

  3. 20 August 2011 at 14:20 | #3

    Yes, thank you Patrick who is not Patrick. Perhaps I should have given you credit for prompting me to make this post, for it was after I approved yours that I decided, “No, damn it, surely I’m not the only one who will find it hard to find an argument here.”

  4. Daniel Lafave
    20 August 2011 at 14:36 | #4

    I don’t follow your account of Swampman. If someone has a causal historical account of teleology and Swampman has no causal history, then his systems have no functions. I don’t see why the defender of the causal historical wouldn’t just deny that Swampman’s systems have functions. What he can’t do is have a causal historical account of teleology and then say that Man and Swampman’s systems have the same function.

  5. Andrew G.
    20 August 2011 at 14:43 | #5

    I’d say that eyes or kidneys were a bit too complex to make really good examples. Instead, I would consider the example of nylon-eating bacteria:

    A particular kind of bacterium can, if it undergoes a particular fairly simple frame-shift mutation, produce a protein that has a completely novel structure (frame-shift mutations work that way). The chances are that this happens occasionally in all populations, and if you analyzed one of these mutants and tried to determine the function of the protein, you’d conclude that it didn’t have one, since it doesn’t participate in any reactions with any other chemical the bacterium contains or typically comes into contact with.

    But if one of these bacteria finds itself in a pool of industrial nylon production waste, it turns out that the mutant protein can catalyze a reaction that converts one of the chemicals used in nylon production into something that the bacterium can use as food. It isn’t a very effective enzyme as these things go, but it works well enough for the bacterium to survive in places where it otherwise wouldn’t.

    So in this example it’s clear that “function” can’t be associated with the mutation (because the mutation was randomly occurring even before any nylon existed); no function exists until both the mutation and the new nylon-rich environment exist in the same place. After that, then saying that the “function” of the new protein is to process nylon chemicals into food is merely a description of a process that occurs, where there is clearly no “intent” or “purpose” present.

    Notice that none of this actually involves natural selection yet, so we’re not appealing to selection as the cause of “function” as applied to the mutant protein. Of course, selection will tend to ensure that further mutations that improve the efficiency of reaction will be likely to be preserved in bacterial populations that have colonized nylon waste pools (and in fact these populations have evolved multiple new enzymes, but I’m focusing on just one where the details of the original mutation are known).

  6. Daniel Lafave
    20 August 2011 at 14:45 | #6

    It’s wrong to see Fodor’s work on Evolution as divorced from his work on mental content. Fodor wants there to be no way to find functions in evolution because that would refute the teleosemanticists like Millikan. Well, he’s wrong about evolution and content.

  7. Not Really A Philosopher
    20 August 2011 at 14:47 | #7

    I think that Feser misrepresents Dennett here, when he takes Dennett as claiming that “The function of organ X is Y” means “X was favored by natural selection because it allowed organisms to do Y.”

    Throughout _Darwin’s Dangerous Idea_, in fact, Dennett claims that we can independently deduce the functions of parts of evolved systems. Looking through the index of DDI on “function,” I don’t see any place where he defines function this way, and in fact, he claims that function can be inferred without knowledge of evolutionary history. (This is the point of his discussion of reverse engineering, and of his approving citation of Paley’s observation to the extent that all the creatures around us really do seem to be well designed for their functions.)

    Does footnote 29 actually show that Dennett (or anybody!) defines function this way? Or is Feser making stuff out of whole cloth? Or is Feser inferring what Dennett _ought_ to mean, and just speaking very loosely?

    I kind of suspect the latter. A guy who talks about “the gene for kidneys” is not somebody who feels a serious duty to speak precisely about biology.

  8. Daniel Lafave
    20 August 2011 at 14:53 | #8

    I might just be mislead by the sentence “Well, of course, we can discern function in swampman, because he’s like us in every way!” Unless “discern” means “discern (possibly wrongly) at first glance”.

  9. 20 August 2011 at 14:53 | #9

    Surely if we had a number of live swampman specimens available for vivisection (and no ethical qualms!), we could remove hearts, kidneys, limbs, etc, and see what happens. We could even compare results with a control group of humans treated in a similar way (again, assuming we have no ethics). After observing the resulting deficits — blood doesn’t circulate, toxins build up, mobility is reduced — it seems quite reasonable to me to label the deficits as the “function” of whatever organ we had removed (at least on the first pass). And yet we have appealed only to the efficient causes that, working together, keeps the organism alive.

  10. Moewicus
    20 August 2011 at 14:56 | #10

    Feser’s argument seems to be that you can’t avoid talking about teleology, no matter what you do. Therefore what?

    Or at least it would be if it so obviously were not. One rather absurd implication of this theory is that you can’t really know what the function of an organ is until you know something about its evolutionary history.

    What a ridiculous assertion. Feser does not show at all how he gets this. Not only is it not obvious, Feser seems to be relying on an equivocation between different meanings of “function”. Apparent teleological function is explained by evolution: the survival and spread of the genes is the organ’s “function”. No teleology is even visible: it’s efficient causes all the way down. What an organ does defines its function in another sense, e.g. your stomach processes food, etc.. Thus the swamp man can have a functioning stomach, eyes, hands, etc., without having a pseudo-teleological evolutionary function. The reason it is so difficult to talk about organisms in purposeless language is because evolution is so good at sorting out forms of organisms that cannot survive.

    But “assigning a normative value” is itself an instance of teleology or goal-directedness.

    Feser is really reaching here. Yes, people have goals and desires. Cancer is “bad” because it threatens an individual’s survival. Sorry Dr. Feser, but you haven’t made teleology irreducible by noticing that people have goals. This is just a red herring.

  11. 20 August 2011 at 15:02 | #11

    Okay, I’ll bite. How does imagining swampman suddenly deprive us of functional language in order to describe the functions of his arms, legs, eyes, etc.? I don’t understand. Isn’t this just saying over again that the language of natural selection is incoherent? Does it show anything?

  12. 20 August 2011 at 15:11 | #12

    Function is not what an organism can be used for. Function is defined in terms of the role that the mutation plays in the organism’s survival. That certain bacteria can be used in a certain way, because of a particular mutation is to say nothing, so far, about function. I can throw rabbits at burglers. Does this mean that stopping burglers is part of the function of rabbits? So, yes, put the bacteria mentioned in a waste pool of nylon (change its environment), and the mutation may then have a survival function, as well as a useful one for people who are concerned about nylon waste. But this is all according to Hoyle, so far as I can tell. It takes reproduction with inheritance, variation, and differential fitness to environment, to produce selection (and function), not just variation alone. You’re scarcely saying that this mutation was “for” consuming nylon waste, are you?

  13. 20 August 2011 at 15:12 | #13

    In addition to equivocating between “function” and “purpose”, as Geoff Arnold above points out, the guy doesn’t seem to understand evolution theory. Does he seriously believe kidneys popped into existence out of nowhere, and only then will natural selection start acting on them?

    It is indeed unfortunate that even many supporters of evolution can’t help but talk about it in terms of purpose. That’s the only grain of truth I could find in there. But that’s just an unfortunate human tendency, very similar in nature to our habit of anthropomorphizing animal behavior. It doesn’t mean there really is purpose in evolution.

  14. Moewicus
    20 August 2011 at 15:13 | #14

    Cancer is “bad” because it threatens an individual’s survival.

    Or, more pertinently, we identify a change in what an organ does as a “malfunction” when it interferes with comfort, normal living, or survival.

  15. Daniel Lafave
    20 August 2011 at 15:26 | #15

    It doesn’t deprive us of using teleological language to describe Man, just of Swampman. Feser takes it as obvious that Swampman’s systems have the same functions as ours. The causal historicist says that while they both do the same thing (function the same in the efficient cause sense), they differ in teleology since Swampman has no evolutionary history and we do. Swampman’s kidneys aren’t “for anything”. Feser doesn’t give any argument that Man and Swampman are the same in teleology. Instead he just say “Surely they do”. When someone uses the word surely, that’s a sign that they don’t have any better arguments to back up their brute intuition.

  16. 20 August 2011 at 15:34 | #16

    Footnote 29 refers to Chapter 14 of DDI and generally to Millikan’s Language, Thought and Other Biological Categories.

    I didn’t check on how Dennett defines ‘function’. So far as I can tell, he is just speaking there about Darwinians in general, though he takes Dennett as his particular whipping boy. I was going to say that I think this is a mischaracterisation of what evolutionary biology says, but even with that, which is a very general, blasé — in a “don’t bother with me, I’m clever” sort of way — to say that function depends upon etiology, does he achieve his goal? No, of course not, because on the next page, as you point out, he completely misrepresents what evolutionary theory says, by supposing that kidneys, that is, the whole functioning system that took possibly millions of years to evolve, are somehow, as kidneys, selected for. And that is simply nonsense. In fact, Feser needs to think in terms of nested causal roles that a whole host of different features and capacities have in building up to today’s kidneys over that long period of evolutionary time.

    I just wonder if we have what could be called an argument here. Perhaps he comes to his conclusion because he equivocates on ‘function’ and ‘purpose’, as Geoff Arnold and Deen say, but if so, he is committing a fallacy of equivocation, and he has something of an argument, but I couldn’t see the premises. That’s a step in the right direction.

  17. 20 August 2011 at 15:36 | #17

    How does it remove this possibility? Have we, in this case, no ability to argue by analogy? Feser uses analogy liberally. I don’t see how it can be refused us here.

  18. 20 August 2011 at 15:40 | #18

    I’d like to point out that amidst all his verbiage Fesser quotes a wise sentence from Searl,

    “teleological features are entirely in the mind of the observer. ”

    Word-defining games aside, naturalism does eliminate “function” in the sense that nothing-as-such exists. What exists are the bare-bones physical facts. We summarize them using imprecise words such as “organism” and “function” (yes, this is not restricted to teleology). The upshot is that Fesser’s word-games are wholly besides the point – you can define biological function in terms of its evolutionary value, or in terms of its role in the causal structure of the organism’s metabolism, or whatever. This is an arbitrary choice about how to describe nature. There are certainly better choices for certain uses, such as understanding biology, of course.

    Both Searl’s negative conclusion (that we shouldn’t use “function” since it doesn’t “really” exist) and Fesser’s naive mental realism (requiring something like “function” to exist ontologically, since he has a concept of it) are precisely the wrong lessons to take from this fact. All Fesser is doing is pointing out the fact that definition A (evolutionary) does not serve him in task B (analyzing the function of Swampman); this does not mean the definition is “wrong”, there are just different definitions for different uses.

  19. Steersman
    20 August 2011 at 15:40 | #19

    I really am getting a bit fed up with the claim that I have misrepresented Feser’s “argument.”

    Complex issue and poorly defined – and comprehended – terms tend to muddle the issue – which sometimes even the best wills in the world are unable to surmount. But allow me to make a stab at clarifying things.

    For starters – justifying, to some extent, your comments about Feser “simply repeating what he’s already said” – he asserts that:

    Another absurd implication [of this theory] is that nothing that didn’t evolve could possibly have a biological function

    And further he later goes on to say – “repeating what he’s already said” – that:

    But the theory in question would have to deny that they have any function at all, given that swampman was not the product of natural selection.

    To me that appears to be a serious misunderstanding of the phrase “natural selection” and, by implication, the essentials of evolutionary theory itself. My understanding is that natural selection itself is only the process whereby variations – created by random mutations or by self-organization (Stuart Kauffman’s ‘order-for-free’) – are simply “winnowed-out” by environmental processes. In other words, natural selection only disposes – or keeps – what self-organization and mutations propose – in the felicitous phrasing of the paper “Visions of Evolution”.

    And, by that token, it is not at all implausible that some biological structure could have a function without it first having been the object of natural selection – as a matter of fact, it would seem to be impossible to be otherwise.

    In addition, Mr. Feser – apparently relying too heavily on Searle and Fodor – also misunderstands the relevance of teleology to evolutionary theory – although one might suggest that he is in good company in that regard – which he, again, seems to regard as synonymous with natural selection. For instance he asserts that:

    The main problem with the theory in question, however, is the one emphasized by John Searle, namely that natural selection simply has nothing whatsoever to do with teleology or natural functions …

    But the Wikipedia article on the “Four Causes” of Aristotle notes the importance and centrality of teleology to the theory:

    It has been argued that explanations in terms of final causes remain common in modern science, including contemporary evolutionary biology, and that teleology is indispensable to biology in general for (among other reasons) the very concept of adaptation is teleological in nature. In an appreciation of Charles Darwin published in Nature in 1874, Asa Gray noted “Darwin’s great service to Natural Science” in bringing back to Teleology “so that, instead of Morphology versus Teleology, we shall have Morphology wedded to Teleology”. Darwin quickly responded, “What you say about Teleology pleases me especially and I do not think anyone else has ever noticed the point.” Francis Darwin and T. H. Huxley reiterate this sentiment. The latter wrote that “..the most remarkable service to the philosophy of Biology rendered by Mr. Darwin is the reconciliation of Teleology and Morphology, and the explanation of the facts of both, which his view offers.” James G. Lennox states that Darwin uses the term ‘Final Cause’ consistently in his Species Notebook, Origin of Species and after.

    However, the question as to whether the “universe” itself is teleological is somewhat of a more intractable problem. In which regard I don’t see that your statement “He claims to be showing that teleology is irreducible” is the same as his assertion that “the human mind is the example par excellence of an irreducibly teleological phenomenon” – something for which I have a great amount of sympathy: seems hard to deny that an essence – first or fifth – of humans, if not all biology – is that we recognize that if we wish to have bread on the table tomorrow then we must plant wheat today – the essential paradigm of teleology.

  20. 20 August 2011 at 15:50 | #20

    I don’t even think Searle is right, is he? Are you saying that, in the absence of minds, animals do not have organs and parts that perform functions? Suppose that humanity were to disappear overnight, would the wings of birds not function? Would the circulatory systems of mammals no longer function to take nutrients to various parts of the body, and to return with waste?

  21. Steersman
    20 August 2011 at 16:04 | #21

    Are you saying that, in the absence of minds, animals do not have organs and parts that perform functions?

    Seems to me that the highly problematic issue and question there is what is the nature of a mind. One might reasonably argue, I think, that “mind” is a set or a spectrum, a distinguishing feature of which some essential teleology, and that it exists over a very broad spectrum of biological behaviour.

    You might wish to review Stuart Hameroff’s paper, “Did Consciousness Cause the Cambrian Explosion” which has this:

    One possible advantage of consciousness for natural selection is the ability to make choices. As Margulis and Sagan (1995) observe (echoing similar, earlier thoughts by Erwin Schrödinger), ” If we grant our ancestors even a tiny fraction of the free will, consciousness, and culture we humans experience, the increase in [life's] complexity on Earth over the last several thousand million years becomes easier to explain: life is the product not only of blind physical forces but also of selection in the sense that organisms choose. . .” (Scott, 1996).

  22. 20 August 2011 at 16:16 | #22

    Any time I see the word “bad”, alarm bells go off….

    Hypothetical #1: There are many species in which the timely and rapid death of members of generation N is related (possibly necessary) for the success of generation N+1. Suppose a species evolves to have a predisposition to a form of cancer that will kill individuals at a certain point in their lives. For this species, the cancer is “good”, isn’t it?

    Hypothetical #2: Dennett loves to tell the story of the fluke which infects ants and causes them to climb to to top of a blade of grass, so they will be eaten, thus completing the fluke’s reproductive cycle. Is the fluke “good” or “bad”? Depends on your point of view….

  23. 20 August 2011 at 16:26 | #23

    Mr MacDonald (and everyone else),

    I appreciate that in this thread the discussion here has at last taken a more substantive turn. I would like to make three points:

    First, unfortunately, you folks still seem to be laboring under the false impression that what I was criticizing in the section of the book in question are evolutionary explanations in biology. That is not the case. As I have said many times, what is at issue are certain philosophical analyses of the concept of biological function (in particular, the sort defended by Ruth Millikan). That there are serious conceptual issues here is evident from your reactions. Though you’re mostly all on the same philosophical page, some of you seem to think Searle is obviously right and others that he is obviously wrong! The reason, I submit, is that naturalists tend both to be officially committed to the view that there is no real teleology in nature, and yet in practice find that teleological language is indispensable. The question is whether this conflict can be resolved in a way consistent with naturalism. I argue in the book that it cannot be — that at the very least some sort of teleology, as an objective feature of reality and not a mere heuristic, cannot be eliminated. And the kind in question is not Paley’s teleology, but Aristotle’s. (Whether this teleology requires a divine explanation is, as I emphasize in the book, a separate issue. I think so, but there are Aristotelians who do not.)

    Second, Mr MacDonald’s misrepresentations of my book are by no means limited to this issue. They are many, and they are grave. I have documented this in the two most recent posts on MacDonald at my blog. You’ll find the most recent here:

    http://edwardfeser.blogspot.com/2011/08/final-word-on-eric-macdonald.html

    I do not believe Mr MacDonald has consciously attempted to smear and misrepresent me. But all the same, he has in fact done so. I believe the reason is that his personal animosity toward Catholicism is so very great that he finds it difficult to give a book like mine a fair reading. And its polemical tone seems to him to give him an excuse not to try.

    But third, as to the tone of the book, while Mr MacDonald has, it seems, succeeded in getting many of you to think I am some sort of moral monster, I ask you to consider that the polemics of the book are directed only at New Atheist writers like Dawkins and Co — who themselves initiated the polemics — and not (contrary to what MacDonald has falsely claimed) at atheists generally. I also ask you to consider that my aggressive tone with MacDonald himself was taken only after he first compared me to Heinrich Himmler. (And if you read his original Himmler post you will see that it was indeed me, and not the pope, who was compared to Himmler.)

    In the most recent post at my blog I discuss the issue of polemics more generally and show, I think, that my use of them has been justified and that MacDonald’s complaints about them have been hypocritical and (more to the point) entail a fallacy of special pleading.

  24. 20 August 2011 at 16:31 | #24

    I’m sorry. In what way is this an argument about the advantage of consciousness or the nature of mind? All I asked was this. Suppose no conscious, reason using brain had evolved here on earth. Would then the bat’s wing not function, or its echo-locators cease to work? Would not the earth look much like it is — well, if we could say what it would look like before billions of humans messed up so much of it — and life go on as before, different species fitting their ecological niches, with all their parts functioning as they do now? And evolution too taking place, although there would be no one to look and say, “Oh, there’s a wing,” or “Doesn’t that bird have keen eyes”?

  25. 20 August 2011 at 16:35 | #25

    You might wish to review Stuart Hameroff’s paper, “Did Consciousness Cause the Cambrian Explosion”

    Do we really have to? Hameroff starts out just fine, then veers off into the wild speculation of quantum consciousness, the Penrose interpretation, and OR. None of this stuff is supported by any experimental data, nor are there any anomalies which could even justify this line of investigation.

  26. David Evans
    20 August 2011 at 16:43 | #26

    ‘Indeed, it does so in Searle’s own proposal: He says that the functions we see in biological organs are not really there objectively but exist only “relative to an observer who assigns a normative value to the causal processes.”’

    I think Searle is simply wrong here. I can observe that a wasp’s sting has the function of injecting venom without assigning any value to the processes involved. A wasp-loving and a wasp-hating biologist, given the same information, would have to agree on this point, though their value assignments might differ.

  27. Andrew G.
    20 August 2011 at 16:51 | #27

    In this particular case, no selection appears necessary to produce the function; the mutation almost certainly occurs occasionally in all populations of the bacterium, it’s just normally selected against. Only in the novel environment does it actually do anything.

    I’m certainly not saying that the mutation is “for” anything. What I’m saying is that it is clear in this case that when one talks about the “function” of the mutant protein, it’s simply a description of what it happens to do in a particular combination of circumstances.

  28. 20 August 2011 at 16:51 | #28

    First misrepresentation. I did not compare you to Himmler. It was reading your words that reminded me of Himmler’s speech. I think your moral position is monstrous, but I suspect you are quite a nice person in your non-polemical everyday persona, and I have never suspected you of being anything else, nor have I so much as suggested it. I did later bring in the pope, because he is the ringleader of those who think as you do, and fills them with energy and purpose — which has serious consequences for those who do not believe, as you do, that contraception is immoral, or that abortion is a crime, or that assisted dying is a form of murder. So I do think, as I say, that Roman Catholic morality results in monstrous consequences, and the institutionalisation of it makes those consequences even more monstrous. That doesn’t make those who hold those views necessarily monstrous, though I think they should be more aware of the consequences of the views they hold.

  29. Steersman
    20 August 2011 at 16:52 | #29

    In what way is this an argument about the advantage of consciousness or the nature of mind?

    My turn to say sorry [:-)]: sorry, but by “this” you mean what? Hameroff’s paper? And I hope you’ll excuse me for asking this, but did you read at least some of that article since it would seem to answer that question if that is in fact what you meant by “this”.

    But if “this” is Hameroff’s paper then it would seem that you’re missing the point that he – and Sagan [son, I think, not Carl] and Margulis and Schrödinger (excuse the argument from authority but to me it does seem plausible, that it hangs together) – are trying to make since you’re asking: “All I asked was this. Suppose no conscious, reason using brain had evolved here on earth.” And, more specifically, the point is that the “conscious, reason using brain” – all terms very broadly defined – was present in the amoeba, in eukaryotic cells, the worms of the pre-Cambrian and Cambrian era – if not earlier.

    Unless I misunderstand “where you’re coming from” which is, of course, entirely possible.

  30. Steersman
    20 August 2011 at 17:11 | #30

    Geof Arnold said: Do we really have to? Hameroff starts out just fine, then veers off into the wild speculation of quantum consciousness, the Penrose interpretation, and OR. None of this stuff is supported by any experimental data, nor are there any anomalies which could even justify this line of investigation.

    Maybe. But this Discover article of February 2009 shows that quantum level phenomena – particularly in the sense of quantum coherence – does take place in biological structures – and at temperatures that are characteristic of such structures when those criticizing Hameroff and Company [Max Tegmark in particular] have strenuously argued that such processes were impossible. And which therefore justifies, in my view, some increase in the probability that something along the line of Hameroff’s OOR is an accurate model or that it is at least one of some utility in directing further investigations.

  31. 20 August 2011 at 17:17 | #31

    Thanks for your reply. And I suspect that you are quite a nice person in your non-polemical everyday persona too. If we are ever in the same place, I would be happy to buy you a drink and hash things out in a more relaxed and human setting than the internet!

    But I do not think I misrepresented you at all. You quoted some words from my book, and then said that the views expressed in them reminded you of Himmler and his views. Perhaps you think there is a significant difference between “You think like Himmler” and “You are comparable to Himmler.” I don’t see it.

    Nor is the Himmler comparison by any means the end of it. In my most recent post I document a number of other very personally abusive remarks you have made about me — almost all before I said anything nasty about you.

    Now, we all say things in the heat of the moment. Totally forgivable. The reason I raise the issue is, first, because I believe you have been inconsistent in holding me to a standard to which you do not hold yourself; and second, because while I have no problem at all with disagreement — as readers of my blog know, I moderate it almost not at all, and let stand even the most abusive venom directed at me — I do not appreciate being personally demonized, and I really really don’t like having my views misrepresented.

    I understand that you are very firmly opposed to Catholic morality and that you think you have good reasons for saying that its implications are monstrous. Fair enough. Obviously I disagree, but it would be unfair of me to pretend that your opposition to Catholic morality entails that you think all Catholics themselves are monstrous.

    What I am asking for is the same consideration. I have indeed said that atheism (or more precisely, the naturalistic metaphysics that underlies modern atheism) has immoral and irrational implications. But I have never said — in fact in my book I explicitly deny — that all atheists themselves are personally immoral and irrational. And yet I now find this meme going around to the effect that I dismiss all my critics a priori as evil and irrational. That is a smear, and I submit that I have a right to respond to it vigorously.

  32. Not Really A Philosopher
    20 August 2011 at 17:21 | #32

    How strange! As near as I can tell, DDI chapter 14 (“The Evolution of Meaning”) doesn’t actually say anything of the kind about “function = evolutionary history.” Instead, if I read it right, it’s about whether, how, and to what extent an evolved thing can fairly be said have “real” intentionality, “real” beliefs with “real” meanings, and so forth.

    The chapter cites Millikan favorably, but I don’t see how that ties in to the rest of what Feser is saying. (Did Feser cite it only because it mentioned Millikan?) In fact, the chapter says almost the opposite of what Feser says that Dennett is saying: in the chapter, Dennett gives examples of systems with (what he claims to be) something akin to real intentionality, where the intentionality is *not* to be inferred only from the system’s history or origin, but from the behavior of the system itself and its relation to the world around it. Moreover, Dennett gives thought experiments that try to show that a system’s history is *not* what determines its function — or rather, that if you’re going to call a system’s “function” its “historically determined one,” that you’re missing something crucial.

    And this gap between what Dennett says and what Feser rebuts is a shame, because Dennett’s arguments are exactly what Feser ought to be trying to rebut. One of the central topics of DDI is about how one can talk about purposes playing something like a causal role in a naturalistic setting, which would seem to be exactly the kind of thing that Feser is interested in saying you can’t do.

    I’m going to apply the principle of charity here, and assume that Feser actually considers Dennett’s real arguments somewhere else in his book. I’ll see if my local library system has a copy.

  33. 20 August 2011 at 17:23 | #33

    Second misrepresentation. You say that you are simply discussing Dennett and Millikan in the passage from your book that I place above. I have not read Dennett for several years, but I do not believe that he represents the process of natural selection in the simplistic way that you suggest, so that it has the consequences that you claim. If you want to misrepresent what most Darwinians think about evolution by means of natural selection, by all means do so, but don’t blame me if I take what you say as a serious statement from you of what evolutionary biology claims to be. So when you refer rather majestically to Chapter 14 of Dennett’s famous book, and then sum up for us what Darwinians — “Here, as pretty much everywhere else according to some Darwinians, evolution itself solves every problem and wipes the tear from every eye ” — which is pretty inexact, which is why I interpolated ‘theory of evolution’ in your “argument” at the top of page 251 — think is the meaning of function, did you really think that this was a serious account of what they mean?

    Dennett takes a whole book to explain what he calls Darwin’s dangerous idea, the plain-Jane version of evolutionary theory that, for example, Dawkins unfolds in such brilliant detail in his The Greatest Show on Earth. If you think that Dennett’s form of the theory is distinctive in some way, then you must do better than say that. and show that it is in some way distinctive. According to him, and those who think like him,

    To say that the kidneys existing in such-and-such an organism have the “function” of purifying its blood amounts to something like this: Those ancestors of this organism who first developed kidneys (as a result of a random genetic mutation) tended to survive in greater numbers than those without kidneys, because their blood got purified; and this caused the gene for kidneys to get passed on to the organism in question and others like it.

    In what sense is this a serious account of Dennet’s understanding of the processes of evolution? You speak so cavalierly, as though only Dennett and a few other odd cases believe such things, and you refer to Chapter 14 as though we would find there the expression of something resembling this, or throughout Millikan’s book. This is plain misrepresentation, since Dennett goes into such detail as to how glacially the whole process usually moves, and by such small steps. Yours is a caricature if anything is.

  34. Daniel Lafave
    20 August 2011 at 17:27 | #34

    Isn’t is begging the question to argue that the naturalist’s account of teleology isn’t “real teleology”? Millikan isn’t trying to eliminate teleology. She’s trying to give an account of one form of it is in our natural world. I don’t see where the arguments are that she is wrong. You wrote:

    “Now, do swampman’s kidneys, eyes, ears, etc., have functions? Surely they do — the same functions that your kidneys, eyes, ears, etc., have.”

    That’s not an argument, but a bare statement of your intuition. Where is the argument that’s supposed to justify that claim?

  35. Daniel Lafave
    20 August 2011 at 17:34 | #35

    This sounds like cuckoo-for-cocoa puffs speculation. I don’t understand why people get excited about stuff like this. Isn’t real biology interesting enough without needing to go off into Deepak Chopra land?

  36. 20 August 2011 at 17:40 | #36

    Well, the remark that I made was not intended to compare you to Himmler or to anyone at all. The words that I read on the page reminded me of Himmler’s speech — and they did, whether justifiably or not is another question. But it never once occurred to me that you were like Himmler, and I am sorry if you took that from those words. I knew at the time that it was a dangerous comparison, and was not going to use it, but since that it is what came to my mind, that seemed to me to be what I had to say, but nothing that I said was supposed to refer to you at all, and the pope only came into it after the conversation, such as it was, had heated up a few degrees above boiling.

    As to your point about the fact that in deprecating “secularism”, as you call it, as “necessarily and inherently, a deeply irrational and immoral view of the world,” you did not mean it as something that was intended to be felt personally by those “secularists” who read it. Well, that’s what I felt. The italics do the work. But I never suggested (or at least I don’t think that I did), whatever the meme that is floating around, that you were dismissing every “secularist” as in fact immoral, though I think your reference to insanity was a bit more pungent than you perhaps thought it was when you wrote it. So, if I was hasty, so, it seems to me, were you, but yours is down now to sit on library shelves, and infect the conversation at a much deeper level than my few remarks can do, I’m afraid.

    But if you do wish to receive the same consideration, then you must understand how I felt when I visited your blog and saw Jack Kevorkian staring me in the face, and references to my self-immolation or whatever it was. I have not been back since. That, in my view, was an unconscionable thing to do, though if you really thought I was comparing you to Himmler I can see why you might have been led to do it. So, on this issue, peace, okay?

  37. 20 August 2011 at 17:46 | #37

    Well, perhaps, Andrew G., but I do not think that this is the sense of function that is at issue here.

  38. 20 August 2011 at 17:54 | #38

    I should add, though it seems a bit churlish, after I’ve bid you peace, that when I made slighting remarks about you, before you posted anything on your page, that, from the tone of your book, that seemed to be the order of the day, so I simply fell in with your usage. This is the problem with accusations and counteraccusations about shrillness and stridency. Everyone becomes very shrill. Perhaps one fo the worst is David Bentley Hart’s Atheist Delusions. I agree that it doesn’t help the conversation, and on the internet, for some reason, it intensifies things, as I am finding out. Perhaps it has to do with the immediacy of it, almost as if in personal conversation, and yet, at the same time, not being able to hear the intonation or see the face and its expressions.

  39. Kel
    20 August 2011 at 17:56 | #39

    “Or at least it would be if it so obviously were not. One rather absurd implication of this theory is that you can’t really know what the function of an organ is until you know something about its evolutionary history.”
    This is a limitation of us as observers, not the process itself. We’re trying to reconstruct the past from the present, so of course we have this limitation. There’s a lot of hypothetical Ps that could explain Q and all we have is Q.

    Observations and experiments in real time, however, show that the process works. And if we even reflect for a moment on the process itself, there shouldn’t be any reason to think that odd.

  40. 20 August 2011 at 17:56 | #40

    Why do you keep saying that I am critical of Dennett’s account of “the processes of evolution,” when I keep pointing out that that is not the target of the passages you refer to and when none of the things you cite show otherwise? I really don’t get it.

    Look, one more time: The issue I am discussing in the relevant passages is not whether evolution moves at a glacial pace, whether its results are somehow all prefigured in the earliest ancestors, or any of these other things you keep bringing up. What I was talking about was something very specific, and a philosophical question rather than a biological one: Can the concept of a “function” be reduced, in the way Millikan says it can, to the concept of a certain kind of pattern of efficient causation. That’s it. The question has nothing essentially to do with evolution per se and it has nothing to do with Fodor’s recent criticisms of Darwinism. It is rather a well-known issue in the philosophy of biology which is debated by people who have no beef with evolution.

    What I suspect is that you are simply unfamiliar with this issue and the relevant literature and thus keep reading into what I wrote things that you are familiar with. And I find that your readers are doing the same thing. For that reason people are drawing all sorts of bizarre conclusions — Feser doesn’t know anything about evolutionary biology, Feser doesn’t know the difference between Aristotelian and Platonic notions of teleology, Feser doesn’t know what an algorithm is, etc. etc. — based, not on anything I’ve actually said, but on what you falsely claim I’ve said! It’s surreal!

  41. 20 August 2011 at 17:57 | #41

    No, by “this” I meant the whole discussion that we’re having about Feser’s argument posted above. I’m not sure how consciousness fits into this, It may do, but I just didn’t see the point that you were trying to make by talking about the evolution of consciousness.

  42. 20 August 2011 at 18:00 | #42

    Eric (if I may), re: your other comment, yes, by all means peace. Best, Ed

  43. 20 August 2011 at 18:09 | #43

    I’m sorry, I can’t see why it is surreal. I understand the problem, and I am aware that some people think it is a problem. I just don’t see how you hope to resolve it by characterising the Darwinian notion of function in the way that you do. But, truly, when I interpolated “theory of evolution” on the top of page 251, you said you were concerned with the specific views of Dennett, Millikan, and their kind. Then you characterise their concept of function in a fairly simplistic way, and you use that on the next page to argue that it’s incoherent. I don’t see how what you have there is an argument for the conclusion that you want to reach that Millikan’s understanding — as well as most other biologists that I’ve read — of reducing, as you put it, function to efficient causation is incoherent. I simply do not see the argument, and saying that you think my incomprehension of your argument — and that’s where I have the problem: is it one? — surreal isn’t going to help matters. I simply do not see how you have shown, as you claim to have done, that this position is incoherent, and I beg you to ask people like Dawkins and Coyne whether they can see the point that you want to make. But simply repeating that you think it is surreal that I can’t see your point, or understand your argument isn’t going to change a thing. Put it directly to Coyne and see if his response is as surreal as mine.

  44. 20 August 2011 at 18:11 | #44

    Thank you.
    Eric

  45. Steersman
    20 August 2011 at 18:15 | #45

    Daniel Lafave said: This sounds like cuckoo-for-cocoa puffs speculation. I don’t understand why people get excited about stuff like this. Isn’t real biology interesting enough without needing to go off into Deepak Chopra land?

    Yes, I will quite accept that “real biology” is incredibly interesting – with a great many far-reaching consequences to all of us as individuals and as a society. However, I’m also reminded of Dawkins’ assertion – in The Selfish Gene – that the process by which consciousness arose during evolution, if not consciousness itself, “is the most profound mystery facing modern biology” [pg 59].

    In addition, I hardly think that the detailed understanding of biology and the physics of those like Hameroff and Penrose, not to mention that which went into the paper described in Discover I mentioned earlier, can in any way, shape or form be compared with “Deepak Chopra land”.

    And finally, as mentioned earlier, that mystery seems very much related to the teleology that Dr. Feser has been promoting. While I have very strong reservations about the harnessing of that, and the related metaphysics, to the “mumbo-jumbo” of the Catholic Church – its morality and its dogmata – that does not detract from, in my view, the fact that those perspectives of his may have some significant relevance and utility in solving that mystery.

  46. Another Matt
    20 August 2011 at 18:31 | #46

    Taken another way — it would be silly to suggest that metabolizing nylon was the “final cause” of the initial mutation, except in the tautological sense that if nylon were going to be metabolized an enzyme of roughly this kind would be required. Would he claim that table salt is the final cause of interactions between sodium and chloride ions?

  47. Steersman
    20 August 2011 at 18:51 | #47

    Eric MacDonald said: No, by “this” I meant the whole discussion that we’re having about Feser’s argument posted above. I’m not sure how consciousness fits into this, It may do, but I just didn’t see the point that you were trying to make by talking about the evolution of consciousness.

    You started this thread by noting that Dr. Feser claims to have shown that “the human mind is the example par excellence of an irreducibly teleological phenomenon” which you seem to think is synonymous with “he claims to be showing that teleology is irreducible” – a misunderstanding I think, although there are some problematic nuances to the point. But you then followed that up with a request for some elucidation which I endeavored to provide.

    And specifically he has argued, in a post from him herein more or less echoing or underlining some of his statements from his book that you quoted, that:

    The question is whether this conflict can be resolved in a way consistent with naturalism. I argue in the book that it cannot be — that at the very least some sort of teleology, as an objective feature of reality and not a mere heuristic, cannot be eliminated.

    And as a way of explaining and justifying his contention – as part of the process of trying to answer your question – I endeavored to show that consciousness – whose central and constitutive essence would appear to be teleology – is part and parcel of the evolutionary process and hence something that lends some support to his argument that “teleology, as an objective feature of reality and not a mere heuristic, cannot be eliminated”.

    Q.E.D. :-)

    Although, of course, I could be misinterpreting some of his statements and at this point, not having read too much from this perspective, I don’t see the difference between “Paley’s teleology and Aristotle’s”, although I think the distinction is worth pursuing.

  48. 20 August 2011 at 18:59 | #48

    May I add a point of some importance here?

    It seems to me that your position has as many or more problems than Millikan’s or Dennett’s. For example, if function is inherent in the way you suggest, so that we could readily identify function apart from etiology, there should be some way in which you can say what is and what is not a functional part of an organism. For example, Voltaire satirised Leibniz in Dr. Pangloss, who remarked on the good fortune that God had created the bridge of noses for holding spectacles. But of course, the bridge of the nose is not, as such functional, but how are you, with your teleological view, to separate this from things which are functional? One of the advantages of the empirical paradigm is that characteristics can, at least in principle, be separated into functional and non-functional categories, based on the determination that mutations do, or do not, promote survivability. Indeed, by examination of etiology, it can be determined whether and what function a particular characteristic plays in an organism. But this shouldn’t be necessary, if we can make a shrewd guess at function. Sure, we can, especially for obvious things like legs and arms and wings, but in many cases the distinction between functional and non-functional is almost entirely a question of etiology, isn’t it? Is this not an advantage of the theory, rather than an absurd implication?

  49. AR
    20 August 2011 at 19:00 | #49

    Leaving aside issues of polemics and rudeness and the Himmler analogy…

    Part of them problem here is that you target a small handful of views and proceed make gross generalizations about naturalism. Whether or not you’ve given a fair overview of Dennett and Millikan*, there are other naturalist accounts that don’t work this way — Cummins comes to mind** — so your point is far more limited than you lead your readers to believe. In fact, it’s not an indictment of naturalism — or at least it doesn’t show that on all naturalist accounts teleology is snuck in a back door — but of Millikan’s and Dennett’s particular views. It shows, at most, that Dennett and Millikan sneak in teleology not that “some sort of teleology, as an objective feature of reality and not a mere heuristic, cannot be eliminated”.

    *I haven’t read either for some time so I can’t weigh in there. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and say you have done so.

    **See, e.g., Cummins’ “Neo-teleology” at https://netfiles.uiuc.edu/rcummins/www/HomePage/Papers/NeoTeleology.pdf (no pay wall for those unattached to educational institutions). Granted, he’s talking about what he calls “Paley Questions” but it doesn’t mean that he’s talking about Paley teleology — he explicitly says, actually, that the teleology he addresses doesn’t aswer Paley Questions. In fact, he responds to precisely the kind of arguments you express in the long passage Eric has quoted in the OP above. His argument has problems — certainly, I don’t want to ignore that — but that this discussion is even going on in the background doesn’t even seem to be on your philosohical radar (again, working from what’s quoted above).

  50. 20 August 2011 at 19:06 | #50

    (I hope I am leaving this comment in the right spot — the “reply” button doesn’t appear on all your comments, so I’m picking what seems the only appropriate option)

    Just to clarify, the “surreal” bit was a reference not so much to what you had said in your most recent comment, but rather to the many reader comments I have seen in your comments over the last few days, which all presupposed a radically mistaken understanding of what I had been saying. The point was just that I did not recognize myself in the person they were talking about.

    Anyway, look at it this way. If Millikan’s account of “function” is right, then a number of things seem to follow. First, only those organs that get selected for have a function; the organs that arise in the original mutation have no function whatever it is they actually do. Second, a creature that came about through some means other than natural selection — spontaneous generation, or whatever far-fetched scenario we want to take just for the sake of argument — could even in theory have any organs with functions. Third, as an epistemological consequence, we couldn’t even in principle know what the function of an organ is unless we knew its evolutionary history.

    Now, this is all certainly counterintuitive, but I don’t think intuitions make for good philosophical arguments. What I would argue instead, as an Aristotelian, is that we can know the function of a thing by observing the regularities it actually exhibits, here and now and over time. And that means that the historical origins of the thing are irrelevant to what it’s function is. They are not irrelevant to how if got here, of course — that’s why the point I’m making is not incompatible with evolution. The point is rather that an account like Millikan’s conflates these things — origin and function. In general, we Aristotelian argue that what a thing is (its nature, function, and so forth) and how it came into being are generally distinct issues,

    Now, for that reason we would say of “swampman” (a well-known philosopher’s example) that his organs have real functions even though he didn’t evolve — because origin is not what determines function. For the same reason we would say that we can determine the function of a thing without knowing its evolutionary history and that even the original organ resulting from a mutation has a function as long as it has a regular pattern of operation — again, because questions about origins are not relevant to questions about function.

    And so we would say that the objections of people like Fodor to Millikan-style accounts are really inchoate gestures in the direction of an Aristotelian understanding of function. And indeed, it seems to me that some of what you’ve said above indicates that you find the Millikan account implausible, and perhaps even for (implicitly) Aristotelian reasons. Again, the issue is not about evolution itself (Fodor’s more recent stuff has nothing to do with it); the issue is rather about what it is for a thing to have a function, whether or not it evolved.

  51. 20 August 2011 at 19:07 | #51

    Daniel, please see the above response to Eric.

  52. 20 August 2011 at 19:31 | #52

    AR,

    But you should not just go on what is quoted above. One of the main themes of the book is that teleology of some sort is an absolutely ineliminable feature of the natural order. If we try to kick it all upstairs into the mind (as Searle basically does) then it is going to sit there like the proverbial lump under the rug, and remains no more compatible with naturalism there than it does anywhere else. The only remedy is to try either to reduce it to material processes in the brain (say) or to go the eliminative materialist route. Now the first option, I argue in the book, always ends up reintroducing a disguised Aristotelian anti-reductionism, or amounts to a disguised eliminativism. And eliminativism, whether overt or disguised, is (I alos argue) impossible to develop in a coherent way.

    Now the other strategy is to try to kick all teleology downstairs, to the genetic level perhaps, or even deeper to the sub-biological level. But in this case the same problems reappear. We really end up at the very least with an Aristotelian-Scholastic view of physical causation — the view that even the most simple efficient causes are unconsciously “directed toward” their effects as toward an end. And indeed, some contemporary metaphysicians and philosophers of science with absolutely no theological axes to grind — “new essentialist” thinkers like George Molnar, Nancy Cartwright, and Brian Ellis — end up with something this position. (Molnar calls it “physical intentionality” but it is essentially what the Scholastics meant by finality — lots of people don’t know this because they don’t know anything but caricatures of Scholasticism.) Otherwise (so these recent writers and we Aristotelians alike argue) efficient causation becomes unintellgible.

    Now, that is the “big picture” claim about teleology that I focus on in the book. I also address — a separate issue — whether various specific levels of teleology that are purportedly irreducible really are irreducible. And here is where I address issues like whether there is irreducible teleology at the genetic level, whether it exists at the level of phenotypes, whether it exists in at higher levels of the inorganic realm than simple causation, and so forth. Here my discussion is more brief because these issues are secondary to the first, more general and fundamental point. But what I say would apply mutatis mutandis to people like Cummins.

    I also want to emphasize again — as I do in the book — that whether all this teleology has a divine explanation is also a separate question. I think it does, and I argue that it does in the book, but there are Aristotelians who disagree with that view. This is one of the key differences between Aristotelians and ID theory types. We Aristotelians hold that whether teleology exists and whether a divine “designer” exists are separate questions; the second doesn’t follow directly from the first. (Some of us think it follows indirectly, with further premises.) It is also not a question of whether evolution has occurred. For whether things have functions is, as I say above, a distinct question from how they got here.

  53. H.H.
    20 August 2011 at 19:31 | #53

    Feser is doing the same thing with teleology that many Christian apologists do with morality, which is to argue that there is either an absolute Teleology with a capital T or there can be no such thing at all. Most academics have long ago relinquished such simplistic thinking, but Feser religious obsession with absolutes, maximums and ultimates prohibits him from recognizing emergent phenomena.

    Neither lifeforms nor their organs have any ultimate idealized Purpose. A thing’s purpose is inseparable from its function, which is inseparable from its form, which is inseparable from what it is. A life form does not intend to make copies of itself and reproduce. A life form is something that makes copies of itself and reproduces. A kidney does not wish to clean blood. It is an organ which cleans blood. Evolutionary biologists often use language which conveys intentionality because humans are biased to think in such relationships, but scientists also recognize that this artificial schema is a projection of the human mind onto nature and inherent within nature itself. If Searle objects to using teleological language in biological description of the natural world, it’s only because he knows theologians like Feser are all too eager to pervert such casual descriptions beyond their intended usage. Scientists are quite used to creationists and dishonest apologists intentionally misreading their words.

    Fesser writes:

    “One rather absurd implication of this theory is that you can’t really know what the function of an organ is until you know something about its evolutionary history.”

    One cannot be certain what all the functions of an organ is until one knows it’s history. This is not an absurdity, but a recognition of the fact that organs often have more than one purpose or have changed purposes over time. Again, it’s only Feser’s own intellectual limitations which cause him to reduce the issue to a binary choice — either an organ must have some Ultimate Purpose or purpose becomes an absurd concept, which is clearly untrue. A bear’s paw has the purpose of supporting it’s weight and aiding in ambulation. A bear’s paw also has the purpose of digging up food. A bear’s paw also the purpose of swatting enemies and prey. What is the ultimate Purpose of the bear’s paw? It’s a nonsensical question because it assumes there must be a single answer. The bear’s paw serves different functions in different contexts. It has no Purpose, only purposes.

    Feser’s confusion is further illustrated by the his example of the swampman. Leaving aside the fact that complex organisms cannot spontaneously appear in reality and thus are an artificial dilemma, he dishonestly slips his conclusion into his premises. If the swampman is directly analogous to humans, then his organs will be as well. But that’s hardly saying anything at all, since Feser begins with the premise of a creature whose physiology is identical to an organism which already has an evolutionary history. But if the Swamp Man were truly unique, then obviously much less could be confidently inferred about the organs which comprise it. Perhaps it has a tongue used for smelling instead of tasting, as snakes. Or perhaps its coloration functions as both camouflage and a sexual display. We can’t be certain until we observe it interacting with its environment. And such traits do depend on the organism’s history. That’s because animals can be thought of as bundles of responses to the various selection pressures which have inextricably shaped them. Things are what they have evolved to do. Lacking such a history, Feser’s swampman must necessarily lack form. But since he has decided to magically imbued his monster with form, Feser is forced to steal it from an organism which already has an evolution history. Rather than demonstrating the illogicality of deriving function from form, Feser has actually demonstrated the impossibility of trying to separate the two.

    In truth, Feser’s arguments are not very different from the IDers like Dembski who also see teleology in everything. Feser might complain about the comparison because he’s on record as rejecting their arguments, but he certainly accepts their premises.

  54. AR
    20 August 2011 at 19:37 | #54

    “… consciousness – whose central and constitutive essence would appear to be teleology…”

    Whoa! I think this may get us off topic but, whatever, I call shenanigans. Says who? I wasn’t aware that the “central and constitutive essence” of *consciousness had been decided, let alone that it was teleology.** Now, that sneaks teleology in a back door — and leaves the door open for a whole lot of other BS besides.

    *Oh dear. I can’t tell anymore if you’re just defending Feser (or someone else?) or if this “argument” is something that you yourself endorse… I think it’s the first and I don’t mean what I say in any way to reflect on you, if the argument is not yours.

    **What on earth does this even mean? We’re just smooshing big words together at this point. QED denied.

  55. AR
    20 August 2011 at 19:38 | #55

    Hm. My first asterisk seems to have wandered. Sorry for any confusion.

  56. rick longworth
    20 August 2011 at 19:54 | #56

    Feser’s arguments are one of the most perverse misuses of intelligence I have ever encountered. It just worries me that to spend time reading it might damage ones eyes. The eyes, I am sure, have evolved for a much finer purpose than to read perversity.

  57. Another Matt
    20 August 2011 at 19:56 | #57

    Would you be willing to provide a concrete application of the notion that teleology of some sort is an inherent feature of nature to something relatively simple, say the structure of a honeycomb, for us neophytes who have dissertations to write on other topics and don’t have the time currently to pick your book? So far most of this discussion has been a little hard to follow for people with just a little background in philosophy, I suspect because of the lingo and not because of the difficulty of the concepts.

  58. Isorethan
    20 August 2011 at 20:15 | #58

    Mere invectives do not amount to anything but emotional bias beacon.Try to go beyond such emotions ,there is evidence that those impair judgment and the ability to create valid (and hopefully sound) arguments .

  59. rick longworth
    20 August 2011 at 20:20 | #59

    H.H. I think this pretty much sums it up. Well said.

  60. dguller
    20 August 2011 at 20:29 | #60

    Eric:

    It is really quite simple, I think.

    Either you agree that teleology is a part of nature or that it is a byproduct of our minds projecting upon nature. If you agree with the former, then Feser will agree with you and there is no conflict. If you agree with the latter, then you are stuck with the difficult task of explaining how nature works without mentioning purposes, goals or ends at all, because even if you mention the slightest hint of teleology into your account, then you are actually on board with Feser.

    Feser then proceeds to discuss one possible way of naturalizing teleology, which essentially means eliminating final causes, and this is done by using evolution by natural selection. In order to do this, one basically translates the function of an organ, for example, into evolutionary language about how a random mutation resulted in a change in the phenotypic expression of an organ that conferred a survival advantage and led to a larger population share in an ecosystem due to that advantage. In other words, the function of X is necessarily related to the evolutionary history of X.

    He then offers three arguments that purport to demonstrate the absurdity of this account. First, that we can clearly identify functions without knowing any thing about an organism’s evolutionary history. Second, that even if evolution turned out to be false, we could still identify functions. Third, that if an entity with identical physiological components as us suddenly appeared out of the blue (i.e. swampman), then even though it would lack an evolutionary history, its organs can still be identified to have functions.

    He then moves on to discuss Searle’s position that all teleology is a projection of the mind upon nature, and not intrinsically present in nature at all. He claims that this position ultimately is incoherent, because it follows that if function is not present at all in the world, then it cannot be a part of any scientific theory, mainly because that which does not exist cannot influence anything in the world. And since all biological talk inherently involves talk of purpose and goals of biological entities, it follows that biology is incoherent on this view.

    That’s the argument, at least as far as I understand it, and at least with the formidable objections to Searle’s views, I can conclude that teleology is a part of nature. Does this mean that there must be a designer to put those purposes there? Not necessarily. That is a separate point. I think that Feser has nicely demonstrated the need for teleology to be an intrinsic part of the world. I agree with him that without it, there can be no predictable patterns or regularities in nature, because without the directedness towards various ends, nothing in nature even makes sense.

  61. dguller
    20 August 2011 at 20:32 | #61

    I understand that you object to any grand Purposes in nature. But what about ordinary purposes, such as the ones that you mentioned, e.g. the purpose of the paw is to swat prey? Are those acceptable instances of teleology in nature? Or is that also an imposition of the human mind?

  62. Steersman
    20 August 2011 at 20:35 | #62

    AR:

    The QED – that which was to be demonstrated – was actually relative to the explanation that I tried to provide, as an answer to Eric’s question (above) as to the relevance of consciousness to the discussion, that the evolution of consciousness and its basis in teleology provided some justification for Feser’s argument that “teleology, as an objective feature of reality and not a mere heuristic, cannot be eliminated”.

    Says who? I wasn’t aware that the “central and constitutive essence” of consciousness had been decided, let alone that it was teleology.

    I did say “appear” – open for discussion, not an ex cathedra statement – and Hameroff, as indicated in the quote I provided earlier, argued that it was the phenomenon of “choice” that was the essence or basis of consciousness. And since choice would seem to undergird the concept and process of teleology – the operation of a cause prior to its effect as in the example I gave earlier: we know that if we wish to have bread on the table tomorrow then we must plant wheat today – it seems a reasonable hypothesis or conjecture.

    Now, that sneaks teleology in a back door — and leaves the door open for a whole lot of other BS besides.

    Whether it does so or not and whether it necessarily leads to that BS is debatable. But what seems not in the least debatable is that we do have and exercise choice. And that consciousness is, to a large part at least, the consciousness of the future and the choices that that entails or provides in the definition, pursuit and attainment of various goals – teleology. The early and well-known biologist J.B.S. Haldane argued that “Teleology is like a mistress to a biologist: he cannot live without her, but he’s unwilling to be seen with her in public” which seems to me to summarize the necessity for the concept and the rather amusing aversion to its acceptance.

    Oh dear. I can’t tell anymore if you’re just defending Feser (or someone else?) or if this “argument” is something that you yourself endorse… I think it’s the first and I don’t mean what I say in any way to reflect on you, if the argument is not yours.

    Yes, in part I am defending, or “endorsing” Feser – at least as far as his teleology is concerned – but also Hameroff and company. Seems to be quite a number of plausible justifications for it, although, of course, I could be mistaken.

  63. dguller
    20 August 2011 at 20:36 | #63

    I agree with you, and so does Feser. He argues that Searle is wrong, because if functions are not really present in nature, then functions cannot be present in any scientific theory of nature, because that which does not exist cannot influence that which does exist. And the problem is that without the use of functional explanations in biology, then biology becomes completely empty and useless.

  64. dguller
    20 August 2011 at 20:39 | #64

    Another Matt:

    You can start with the heart’s function to pump blood through the circulatory system. Feser would argue that this is an inherent part of nature, and not just an imposition of the human mind. It is something that our minds can pick up by virtue of pattern-detecting capabilities.

  65. 20 August 2011 at 20:44 | #65

    Another Matt,

    Sure. Let me take a very simple example that “new essentialist” philosophers of the sort referred to above like to use, viz. the brittleness of glass. This is a “dispositional” property in the sense that for glass to be brittle is just for it to have a disposition, under certain triggering circumstances, to shatter. Shattering is the paradigmatic manifestation of the brittleness.

    Now teleology fits in here as follows. The glass has this disposition long before it shatters and even whether or not it ever in fact shatters. And that means that the dispositional property “points to” or is “directed at” the outcome of shattering, specifically, at all times in which the glass exists. In that sense the dispositional property has an “end” beyond itself. And the idea is that we can’t make sense of what it is for the glass to have this causal property unless we recognize this “directedness” in it.

    Now there are several complications that enter in. We need to spell out, for example, what the circumstances are under which the manifestation would be triggered if we are to have a rigorous description of exactly what the nature of the disposition is. There are also other dispositions a thing might have, or the disposition may be a disposition toward a certain range of effects rather than one effect. It might turn out that a certain apparent dispositional property reduces to a non-dispositional one. And so forth. But what new essentialists and Aristotelians argue is that at some level, and particularly the bottom level of physical causation, there will necessarily be certain dispositional properties. Otherwise the existence of any causation at all would be unintelligible. (This is why Humean puzzles about causation soon entered into Western philosophy after final causality — built-in, unconscious “directedness” — was thrown out, as I argue in the book.)

    One of the things thinkers in these camps differ about is how many (if any) irreducible teleological properties exist above the level of basic physical causation. Some would say they exist only at the fundamental physical level. Some might take it as high as chemistry. Some might take it as high as the genetic level. Some would take it to higher levels still — the higher one takes it, you might say, the more thoroughgoing is one’s Aristotelianism.

    Biological teleology — the sort of thing that “function” talk us needed to describe — is on this view only a special case, and a more complex case, of what at bottom is a very simple phenomenon: unconscious, built-in “pointing to” or being “directed at” a certain end.

  66. dguller
    20 August 2011 at 20:45 | #66

    Daniel:

    The argument can be reconstructed as follows:

    (1) X has function F iff X has an evolutionary history in which X’s having function F led to the prevalence of X in a population.
    (2) Human organs have an evolutionary history
    (3) Therefore, human organs have functions (by (1)).
    (4) Swampman has identical organs and physiology as human beings.
    (5) Swampman has no evolutionary history, having suddenly appeared due to a freak chemical accident.
    (6) Swampman’s organs cannot have functions (by (1), (5))
    (7) But since Swampman’s organs are identical to humans, they must have the same functions as humans
    (8) Therefore, (1) is false, due to the contradiction between (6) and (7).

    There are a number of ways to attack this argument.

    One is to say that (1) is a straw man, and that no-one actually holds such a position, and thus this argument is irrelevant. Another is to contest (7), and say that Swampman must have different functions, even though his organs are cell for cell identical with a human’s. This is probably the weakest objection. A final attack would be to object to the fantastical nature of this thought experiment, and say that since it is fantasy, it is irrelevant, as well.

  67. dguller
    20 August 2011 at 20:55 | #67

    Daniel:

    In the swamp man thought experiment, the swamp man is biologically identical to a human being down to having DNA, cells, and having the same bodily organization. In other words, a pathologist would not be able to tell the difference between swamp man and a real man.

    Given those conditions, does it make sense to say that swamp man’s heart does not pump blood through the circulatory system? One can do an ECHO, and see the cardiac contractions, can do a nuclear scan and actually see the heart pumping blood, but according to the view that Feser is arguing against, none of this would be relevant to demonstrate swamp man’s heart”s function, because he lacks an evolutionary history.

    Since this is clearly absurd, the conclusion — if you buy into the thought experiment at all — is that saying that if X has no evolutionary history, then X has no function, is just false.

  68. Andrew
    20 August 2011 at 22:21 | #68

    dguller wrote:

    “In other words, the function of X is necessarily related to the evolutionary history of X.

    He then offers three arguments that purport to demonstrate the absurdity of this account.”

    Firstly, Edward Feser does not offer three arguments, he offers two. I consider the second and third argument cited by dguller as the same argument, namely that some biological structure that didn’t evolve can still have a function. Secondly Edward Feser doesn’t offer two arguments, he offers two assertions, at least in the passage quoted by Eric MacDonald. Perhaps elsewhere in his book Feser explains why I should accept these assertions. On the face of it, I find his assertions absurd. Why shouldn’t I be able to figure out the function of an organ without knowing anything about that organ’s evolutionary history? And I don’t see why it follows from evolutionary theory that if you found a biological structure that hadn’t evolved it can’t have a function.

    As for dguller’s opinion that nothing in nature makes sense without invoking directedness towards various ends, I don’t agree. Yes, it makes sense to people to say the antelope has evolved the ability to run fast to escape cheetahs, and that cheetahs have evolved the ability to run faster to catch said antelope. But to take from this that running fast is an end is a mistake, I think. The only end that matters in evolution is to make babies. Everything else is just a means to that end.

  69. Kel
    20 August 2011 at 23:27 | #69

    “If you agree with the latter, then you are stuck with the difficult task of explaining how nature works without mentioning purposes, goals or ends at all, because even if you mention the slightest hint of teleology into your account, then you are actually on board with Feser.”
    It’s quite easy to explain how nature is able to build without any purposes or goals or ends at all. Why do we have some rocks sharp, or other rocks smooth? They’re that way because of forms of erosion – no purpose or goals or ends, just particles interacting with other particles from which structure is altered.

    The evolutionary process is interesting in that purposes, goals, or ends are emergent from the process. If one follows the evolutionary algorithm, it should be apparent why this is. A mutation that makes an organism harder to distinguish from the background is means that organism is less likely to end up as prey, and thus copies of that mutated gene will spread through generations. Mutations that make the organism even harder to spot will likewise have that same benefit as far as the genetic material. Thus over time, camouflage will emerge without any purpose or goal or ends.

  70. Another Matt
    21 August 2011 at 01:01 | #70

    Dguller and Feser,

    I really appreciate your feedback. Some thoughts:

    “It might turn out that a certain apparent dispositional property reduces to a non-dispositional one.”

    From your description it sounds like it would be extremely difficult to find a property that wasn’t dispositional — to say that something has a “disposition toward” some kind of state sounds like it is just to say it has a given property. Besides breaking, glass also has a disposition toward melting, toward becoming powder, and so forth, and these are properties that emerge from the nature of the kinds of chemical bonds silicon produces. Hearts have a disposition toward vaporizing (in the circumstance of a nuclear blast). What is the difference between a list of a thing’s properties and a list of its dispositions toward ____, aside from the orientation of observation towards classes of properties rather than toward things? I suppose at some point if you’re committed to reductionism you’re going to run into the four fundamental forces and concepts like energy and matter, but it seems like a stretch to me (I’ll need to think about it some more) to call these “final causes” of events rather than just “causes.” Where am I going wrong?

    I could understand it, maybe, if you were to posit some kind of property like “the ability to locomote on land” and reason that if something had this property we would not be surprised that it also had something like legs or wheels. But why is the ability conceptually prior, and why is that not just a linguistic orientation? After all, water has the propensity to find low points in a terrain by responding to gravity, but why would anyone say that it’s “directed toward flowing” rather than simply use the word word “flowing” to describe a certain pattern of water that arises now and again?

  71. 21 August 2011 at 01:49 | #71

    dguller: In point of fact, statement 1 is not exactly a straw man — some people (perhaps Ruth Millikan, although I think Feser mischaracterizes her position) have defined biological function in such terms. But it is a straw man in the sense that the vast majority of philosophers of biology (and working evolutionary biologists who think about such things) recognize this as a deeply flawed way to define biological function. In short, statement 1 is not the only possible way to define biological function by a very, very long shot — and so the swampman argument has a very narrow scope.

    The same goes for Feser’s whole argument. The particular way to define biological function in terms of natural selection he argues does not work is not the only way to naturalize teleology, so his argument fails as a general criticism of the possibility of naturalizing teleology — which seems to be what he would need his argument to accomplish in order to support his broader conclusion. (I say “seems” because his argument is spectacularly unclear, and I am disinclined to spend the time and energy necessary to clarify it for him; I might be more inclined to make the effort if his rhetoric weren’t so rude and tendentious towards those he perceives as opponents.)

  72. 21 August 2011 at 02:19 | #72

    Actually, dguller, I think you highlight the very important problem with Feser’s argument here:

    Feser then proceeds to discuss one possible way of naturalizing teleology, which essentially means eliminating final causes, and this is done by using evolution by natural selection.

    Exactly: one possible way. Feser discusses one possible way of naturalizing teleology, and the discussion in question is rather tendentious, and the discussion does not explain the details of that way of naturalizing teleology at all clearly, and the naturalization of teleology at issue is a distinctly minority opinion among thinkers in the field (even more of a minority opinion than Searle’s radical eliminativism, which is the next argument he cites). Feser’s argument would be much, much more convincing if he had been more attentive to the back-and-forth in this literature and chosen a better version of naturalized teleology to discuss to begin with, because objections to characterizing function in purely historical terms have been around much longer than the silly swampman thought experiment argument. It would also have been made better by less rude and tendentious rhetoric, and vastly more clarity. And I say all this even though I basically AGREE with Feser’s conclusion that Aristotle’s understanding of naturalized teleology is basically right (although his attempts to connect Aristotle’s naturalized teleology to cosmic teleology and God and such seem to be indistinguishable from the same old circular arguments that theologians have been trotting out for centuries).

    Dr. Feser, if you want to be read charitably, write charitably: Pick the strongest arguments of your opponents as targets for your objections, state those arguments clearly and without distortion, and leave the insults and cheap rhetorical ploys out of it. (“St. Charles of the Galapagos” indeed! Hmph!)

  73. H.H.
    21 August 2011 at 03:00 | #73

    Either you agree that teleology is a part of nature or that it is a byproduct of our minds projecting upon nature. If you agree with the former, then Feser will agree with you and there is no conflict. If you agree with the latter, then you are stuck with the difficult task of explaining how nature works without mentioning purposes, goals or ends at all, because even if you mention the slightest hint of teleology into your account, then you are actually on board with Feser.

    If we believe teleology to be imposed, why must we also be stuck with the “difficult” task of never mentioning it without somehow inadvertently proving Feser correct? That’s a preposterous precondition. There is no contradiction between employing teleology language when it is useful in communicating ideas and also recognizing it as a human construct.

    Earlier you asked be about examples of teleology in nature and whether they are imposed or inherent to nature. The answer is it’s both. There is the thing as it is, and then there is our conception of it. It’s like asking whether a “species” is a human concept or something which actually exists in nature. Obviously, there are all kinds of animals, each different from each other. Humans only came along and put a name to that already existing pattern. But what is a species, exactly? Believe it or not, there is no single definition. While there is this pattern, this relationship between related lifeforms that really exists in nature, it is in some sense beyond our abilities to fully articulate it. For every definition that is offered, some exception or can be found to upset our list of rules. So we have the abstraction, the concept of a species as a specific kind of animal, yet we also recognize that nature is not so clear cut.

    Or take the color blue. Obviously the wavelength of light we call the color blue exists naturally, but it’s also a human concept. If we look at the visible spectrum we see a rainbow where each color blends into another. Yellow turns to green turns to blue turns to purple turns to red. But where does one color stop and the next begin? Where is the edge of “blue?” What are it’s boundaries? Can you name the exact wavelength when blue stops being blue and becomes green? If we cannot say, it nature’s fuzzy boundaries defy our abilities to firmly classify it, does that mean the word blue can have no meaning? Is it an “absurdity” to speak of blue things? No, we simply recognize that “blueness” is both found in nature and is also a concept we project upon nature.

  74. 21 August 2011 at 03:02 | #74

    but it seems like a stretch to me (I’ll need to think about it some more) to call these “final causes” of events rather than just “causes.” Where am I going wrong?

    The “final cause” or end toward which brittleness (say) is directed or points — namely, shattering — may never in fact be realized in some particular glass. For the glass may never in fact shatter. So it’s not the cause in what is today the usual sense of the word “cause” (i.e. what Aristotelians call the “efficient cause”), which only operates insofar as it is in fact realized.

    In this sense dispositional properties are often compared by new essentialist writers to the intentionality of thought. You can think about some situation — winning a million dollars in the lottery — even if the situation is never realized. But though it is not actual in the way that your thought itself is, the thought itself cannot intelligibly be individuated as that thought without reference to the content winning a million dollars in the lottery.

    Similarly, even though the event of shattering may never in fact be actualized, the disposition (which in some way is actual, since the glass really does have it) cannot intelligibly be individuated without reference to the (as yet non-existent and maybe never existent) event of shattering.

    Another example may help. A match is a cause of flame and heat. It is, more precisely, an efficient cause of flame and heat in the sense that it will generate them under the right conditions. But it does so only insofar as (by virtue of the chemical properties of the match head) it “points” or is “directed at” flame and heat as its typical effect (when in good working order, oxygen present, etc.). Now what generates the flame and heat — the match — the Aristotelian would call an efficient cause. And the end to which the match points — the flame and heat (which it points to even if it never in fact generates them, just like your thought could be about a million dollars even if you never in fact win it) — is the final cause.

    The idea is that these are two irreducible aspects of causation, and that modern philosophers have erroneously truncated the concept of causation.

  75. bad Jim
    21 August 2011 at 05:35 | #75

    Consider us simians. Unlike nearly every other animal, we don’t manufacture our own ascorbic acid, but instead depend upon a dietary source. We require it for our survival, but since our ancestors for millions of years had fresh food available at all times, we survived the mutation that rendered us unable to synthesize it ourselves.

    Unlike every other mammal, most of us primates have decent color vision, recovering a capability which was almost certainly ancestral to our kind, but a dispensable luxury to our nocturnal or crepuscular progenitors.

    People who are color-blind, who can’t spot an apple any more easily than a dog can (they do see color, of course, just a narrower range) aren’t actually terribly disadvantaged.

    It’s a bit silly to talk about purpose in this concatenation of accidents, some helpful but not strictly necessary, some harmful but not often a problem.

  76. 21 August 2011 at 05:44 | #76

    Feser’s argument is actually the other way around; he says that you can indeed get information to the point of knowledge of the function of an orgran without knowing its evolutionary history.

  77. Andrew G.
    21 August 2011 at 06:36 | #77

    Then I think this whole argument is fundamentally about an equivocation between “function” (defined as the role that something plays in a larger system, or equivalently the set of interactions between the thing and its environment) and “purpose” (defined as the intent for which something was created).

    The nylonase enzyme shows that new functions can arise without any need for selection pressure or any “design-like” activities, and as a purely random physical occurrence it is clearly not intentional in any sense. More complex organs like kidneys are merely the end result of a hugely long chain of similar occurrences but where selection has been applied.

    That much of our language seems to impute purposes where none exist is simply a reflection of our well-understood cognitive biases – and because our language is what it is, we find it convenient to talk that way even though we do not actually intend to imply purposes.

  78. rick longworth
    21 August 2011 at 07:19 | #78

    These are word games. Purpose and function are not the same as teleology.

  79. rick longworth
    21 August 2011 at 07:25 | #79

    As, I think Dawkins, points out, evolution is a mechanism which leads to things that give the appearance of having been designed. Organic form and function arise from this natural process just as mountains erode into the sea or stars eventually burn themselves out.

  80. rick longworth
    21 August 2011 at 07:45 | #80

    A simple definition of teleology:

    “The explanation of phenomena by the purpose they serve rather than by postulated causes”

    I would ask if the phenomena found in nature are better explained by looking to their current function or to causes. Can we explain a birds wing as a device for flying? Or a device which, through evolution, became a device for flying?

    The evolutionary, causal, explanation is based on an understanding of the way natural law works in the universe. To me this is very satisfying. There is nothing wrong with combining this observation with the fact of function. This gives a complete picture without implying purpose as an intentional aspect.

    I think a danger is to put emphasis on the fact of form and function implying that the purposes are the purposes of some agent which in some way previsions the ultimate design. First, this is unneeded, and second there are no ultimate designs.

  81. Kel
    21 August 2011 at 08:14 | #81

    “The reason, I submit, is that naturalists tend both to be officially committed to the view that there is no real teleology in nature, and yet in practice find that teleological language is indispensable.”
    There’s a more simple explanation, humans have evolved to think in terms of design. That we find teleological language indispensable is no more indicative of a problem in evolution than than using dualistic language to describe the workings of a computer. What’s important is to be able to give an account of evolution in terms of the nature of physics, and on that note it should be quite apparent that there’s no contradiction between the undirected purposeless process of evolution and the function and design in its outcome.

  82. dguller
    21 August 2011 at 08:18 | #82

    Rick:

    These are word games. Purpose and function are not the same as teleology.

    Teleology, as Feser construes is, is about the directedness towards certain ends that all beings have as part of their natures. Sometimes it makes sense to call that directedness “purpose”, other times “function”, and other times “goal” or “end”. I think that what is tripping you up is that if you grant that all beings have ends to which they are directed towards, then you must either say that they have conscious intent or that there is a conscious being placing their ends in them. Neither of these is necessarily the case, and are separate issues.

    As, I think Dawkins, points out, evolution is a mechanism which leads to things that give the appearance of having been designed. Organic form and function arise from this natural process just as mountains erode into the sea or stars eventually burn themselves out.

    Even evolution operates teleologically. It is directed towards a number of ends, such as improving fitness to survive, and so on. It is not just what happens, because there is a predictable regularity that indicates the presence of a directedness towards certain outcomes, and not others.

  83. dguller
    21 August 2011 at 08:25 | #83

    Kel:

    It’s quite easy to explain how nature is able to build without any purposes or goals or ends at all. Why do we have some rocks sharp, or other rocks smooth? They’re that way because of forms of erosion – no purpose or goals or ends, just particles interacting with other particles from which structure is altered.

    As Dennett says, different functions and goals appear at different levels of analysis, or as he would say, “stances”. Even remaining in the physical stance, and just describing the operations of atoms, for example, indicates various teleological aspects, such as the propensity of fermions to achieve the lowest energy state. The fact that atomic behavior is not completely random, but actually follows various natural laws indicates that atomic behavior is directed towards fulfilling the goals inherent in the natural laws. So, even if you remain at this level of analysis, you still have teleology. If you didn’t, then you couldn’t say that atoms follow natural laws at all.

    I think that you are confusing final causes with predetermined purposes or goals that had to be present in advance. That is not the case, and there is no problem with more complex teleology emerging from more basic teleological processes. I would say that human consciousness is a good example of that, for example.

    If one follows the evolutionary algorithm, it should be apparent why this is. A mutation that makes an organism harder to distinguish from the background is means that organism is less likely to end up as prey, and thus copies of that mutated gene will spread through generations. Mutations that make the organism even harder to spot will likewise have that same benefit as far as the genetic material. Thus over time, camouflage will emerge without any purpose or goal or ends.

    But the purpose of camouflage is to hide the organism from its prey. Whether that was the original intention all along is irrelevant. If you agree that that is the purpose of camouflage, then we are just arguing semantics, because you have agreed that teleology is inherent in nature, and not just an imposition of our minds.

  84. dguller
    21 August 2011 at 08:27 | #84

    Well, Feser was addressing a specific philosophical claim about evolution, and arguing against it. But you are correct that for him to have made the general claim that it is impossible for any non-functional analysis of evolution to work would require a more in-depth treatment. I would say that he refuted the claim that he mentioned, but if there are other, more compelling, versions, then his case would be strengthened by refuting them.

  85. dguller
    21 August 2011 at 08:33 | #85

    H.H.:

    If teleology is both an intrinsic part of nature and imposed by our minds by our mental categories, then you agree with Feser that there are ends in nature that our minds are able to discover. And if that is so, then the only disagreement that remains is exactly how our minds are able to do this, and even more importantly, how they can get it right or wrong, because there are times that we observe things in nature that are not there at all, which is when our pattern-detecting capacity finds a false positive.

  86. steve oberski
    21 August 2011 at 08:59 | #86

    To say that the kidneys existing in such-and-such an organism have the “function” of purifying its blood amounts to something like this: Those ancestors of this organism who first developed kidneys (as a result of a random genetic mutation) tended to survive in greater numbers than those without kidneys, because their blood got purified; and this caused the gene for kidneys to get passed on to the organism in question and others like it.

    It’s lucky for Feser that he only need to read one book on evolutionary biology to come to a basic understanding of the subject, something he currently seems to lack.

    Contrast this with the poor atheist who need plow his way through all of Feser’s turgid prose along with a host of other medieval philosophers before they dare participate in his area of “expertise”.

  87. dguller
    21 August 2011 at 09:46 | #87

    Andrew:

    Secondly Edward Feser doesn’t offer two arguments, he offers two assertions, at least in the passage quoted by Eric MacDonald. Perhaps elsewhere in his book Feser explains why I should accept these assertions. On the face of it, I find his assertions absurd. Why shouldn’t I be able to figure out the function of an organ without knowing anything about that organ’s evolutionary history? And I don’t see why it follows from evolutionary theory that if you found a biological structure that hadn’t evolved it can’t have a function.

    If you start with the initial premise: “X has a function F if and only if X has evolved such that having F conferred a survival advantage”, then it follows that if X had not evolved, then X could not have a function F. That is just the logical implications of the premise, and as such, do not require any argument at all. The idea is that if we can identify functions without any knowledge of evolutionary history, then the premise is false, and should be rejected. You clearly agree that we knew the functions of various organs, such as hands, eyes, and so on, even prior to Darwin, and so the premise should be rejected. I think we are in agreement here.

    As for dguller’s opinion that nothing in nature makes sense without invoking directedness towards various ends, I don’t agree. Yes, it makes sense to people to say the antelope has evolved the ability to run fast to escape cheetahs, and that cheetahs have evolved the ability to run faster to catch said antelope. But to take from this that running fast is an end is a mistake, I think. The only end that matters in evolution is to make babies. Everything else is just a means to that end.

    Why can’t running fast be an end that furthers the end of making babies? It is like getting a job is an end to further the end of making money to further the end of paying one’s bills, and so on. The directedness of nature is a lot like that, I think, and depending upon your level of analysis, different ends will become more prominent, which is something that Dennett also says in his concept of the three stances: physical, design and intentional. Each of these stances allows us to identify different purposes and ends that we otherwise would have missed. So, I think that we agree that there are ends in nature, and that they exist in a complex interrelated web where one leads to the other.

    Would that be fair to say?

  88. dguller
    21 August 2011 at 09:49 | #88

    Agreed.

  89. dguller
    21 August 2011 at 09:50 | #89

    One more thing: what version of naturalized teleology do you find most compelling in its ability to explain function in completely non-functional and non-teleological terms?

  90. Steve Ruble
    21 August 2011 at 09:53 | #90

    dguller,

    Even evolution operates teleologically. It is directed towards a number of ends, such as improving fitness to survive, and so on. It is not just what happens, because there is a predictable regularity that indicates the presence of a directedness towards certain outcomes, and not others.

    I’m having a really hard time understanding what kind of thing “directedness towards certain outcomes” is actually supposed to be, and how you’re able to detect it. How would you demonstrate that evolution has “directedness towards certain outcomes” rather than simply having a predictable regularity? Why can’t “just what happens” simply happen in a predictably regular way? As far as I can tell, the only thing we can actually observe is a predictable regularity – as per Hume, I suppose – and it sounds to me like the claim that predictable regularity “indicates the presence of a directedness towards certain outcomes, and not others” is just asserting that there is some thing which is responsible for the predictable regularity, and naming that thing “directedness towards certain outcomes”.

    What I’m missing is the reason anyone would think that using that name is more justifiable than, say, “the thing which enforces efficient causality”, or any number of other names, even if we were to grant that it’s reasonable to conclude that there could be some identifiable thing which is responsible for predictable regularity. Can you provide a justification for that?

    (I should note, the reason I care about the naming convention is that there seems to be a definite tendency to continue from “directedness towards certain outcomes” into basing further reasoning on what those outcomes are assumed to be, which seems illegitimate if there’s no reason to suppose that the “outcomes” have any existence in the first place.)

  91. dguller
    21 August 2011 at 10:17 | #91

    Steve:

    I’m having a really hard time understanding what kind of thing “directedness towards certain outcomes” is actually supposed to be, and how you’re able to detect it. How would you demonstrate that evolution has “directedness towards certain outcomes” rather than simply having a predictable regularity? Why can’t “just what happens” simply happen in a predictably regular way? As far as I can tell, the only thing we can actually observe is a predictable regularity – as per Hume, I suppose – and it sounds to me like the claim that predictable regularity “indicates the presence of a directedness towards certain outcomes, and not others” is just asserting that there is some thing which is responsible for the predictable regularity, and naming that thing “directedness towards certain outcomes”.

    Fair comments.

    The basic starting point, for me, is that anything does not happen. We do not observe rabbits becoming lions, or roses turning into acorns, for example. There are restrictions to what is possible, and whenever something happens, it does so within a range of specific possible outcomes. What is it that restricts the possible outcomes? There must be something, because we do not observe chaos and randomness all around us. And furthermore, is it more likely that there is something in the nature of things that directs them to specific possible outcomes, or is it just a haphazard accidental event? I think the former is more likely, because if the latter were the case, then we would not see the regularity and predictability that we observe around us at all. We would, in fact, observe rabbits becoming lions, or roses becoming. And even if you argue that there is nothing within entities that directs their behavior, but rather their environment directs them, then you would have to explain this directedness of the environment to move entities towards certain outcomes, and the directedness of entities themselves to be influenced by the environment in such a way. To me, all this strongly supports the idea that the nature of entities directs them towards fulfilling certain possible outcomes, and that is all we need for basic Aristotelian teleology.

    What I’m missing is the reason anyone would think that using that name is more justifiable than, say, “the thing which enforces efficient causality”, or any number of other names, even if we were to grant that it’s reasonable to conclude that there could be some identifiable thing which is responsible for predictable regularity. Can you provide a justification for that?

    You can call it whatever you want, but the name should refer to the fact of directedness towards certain specific outcomes in nature. That is the phenomenon that is being named. But what you have to realize is that the vast majority of such directedness is unconscious, and that the combination of unconscious directedness can even form conscious directedness in a mind, for example. That is actually an idea consistent with Dennett’s philosophy of mind.

    (I should note, the reason I care about the naming convention is that there seems to be a definite tendency to continue from “directedness towards certain outcomes” into basing further reasoning on what those outcomes are assumed to be, which seems illegitimate if there’s no reason to suppose that the “outcomes” have any existence in the first place.)

    I share your concerns, because there is a tendency to assume that if there are ends, then there must be a conscious intellect that put those ends there. I don’t find this teleological argument compelling, and so I can happily endorse Aristotelian final causes without worrying about letting God in the back door, which seems to be the concern of a number of individuals here.

  92. Another Matt
    21 August 2011 at 10:23 | #92

    The more I think about swampman, the less satisfied I am with the argument. I think it sneaks way too much in through the bathroom window before the argument is made in the parlor, much like Searle’s “Chinese Room” thought experiment. Here are my main objections:

    1) The sneakiest bit comes in making the thought experiment sound plausible. I don’t feel obliged to take something seriously that has no proposed mechanism for making it actually come about, I suppose unless the point of the experiment is ultimately to reject the thing which seems so utterly implausible. Dennett’s “philosophical zombie” is an example of an implausible being whose existence is ultimately rejected as nonsensical. In any case, with swampman, the argument seems to be: “Imagine a freak instance of human creation-ex-nihilo. Wouldn’t that be very much like creating a functioning human ex nihilo? What then, for materialistic evolution?”

    The story relies far too much on the implausible complexity delivered from the event to make the argument it wants to make. What if instead the question were a little more down-to-earth (and more interesting) — the lightning strikes and then in a few months we find a proliferation of an as-yet-unknown replicating protein. It replicates like all other replicating proteins, so doesn’t its folding structure have the same function as that in other replicating proteins? Or imagine a hurricane blows over an island and by chance a vine blows into a tree which gets bent by the wind, and then a rock falls onto the other end of the vine which by chance has had a loop tied into it, making a kind of snare trap of the kind you might imagine in Robinson Crusoe. An unlucky person comes by the next day and steps into it just as the rock gives, and he’s hung upside down from the palm tree as it snaps upright. Isn’t the function of this “just like” a “real” snare trap? Etc.

    2) It’s unclear from the wording in the quote from the OP whether the “freak accident” made a replica copy of an already living human, or just happened to make a generic human. The former is just slightly more plausible and more interesting, so let’s imagine something slightly different. What do we make of humans who have passed through “teleporters” or “replicators” that “print” atom-for-atom copies? This is one way of reading the swampman story the way its worded — as the results of a kind of replicator. It’s the “copy” feature that is relevant: it will have copied the fruits of human evolution, so while the being produced will not have an evolutionary history in the sense that it did not spend the requisite number of months in gestation and childhood forming memories and experience, it will have one in the sense that it is a copy of the stable patterns produced by evolution (and looking and interacting with this being we’d be hard pressed to call it an “it”). More interesting to me is what to make of its memories and knowledge and beliefs, and what implications this has for dualism. This is a problem for swampman too, of course, if he’s supposed to be indistinguishable from an adult human. Ask him why he has a belly button.

    Sorry for the long post.

  93. RH
    21 August 2011 at 10:33 | #93

    Prof Feser,

    Since you are here….

    On both this blog and your blog,s comment section, I have been persuing a line of questioning that I (and others) find to be a glaring weakness in your claims concerning final causes, purpose, function, and natural law. ( realizing these are related but separate issues, I find a similar problem in each):

    How is it that you avoid a sort of naturalistic fallacy in your inferences?
    In the quotes we have seen where you infer the “Final Cause” of our sex organs, it rather screams naturalistic fallacy…or at the least, it provokes the question of how you are leaping from your collection of descriptive statements (penis is shaped this way, vagina shaped that way, this happens to each during stimulation etc) to declaring their Final Cause, let alone moving to a normative declaration of how they ought to be used. I was fairly aghast at the
    way your reasoning made no such bridge and hung there as arbitrary assertion.

    A similar problem occurs every time I see a Thomist speak of, or reason about “ends, purpose, function and especially final cause.
    How is a final cause determined for any entity, or biological feature?
    The problem seems to be that the Thomist/Aristotelian wants to say both that these are OBJECTIVE (and intrinsic?) qualities in the entity being investigated. And that the Thomist can infer final causes from observing the entity.

    But it seems to follow from this that when trying to infer a final cause from your observations, you have to avoid begging the question and assuming the final cause. Hence, you must be STARTING at a set of descriptive statements, and moving from those to your conclusion of a final cause.

    What I keep asking in your comments section of the Thomist there ( and of you) is: How EXACTLY do you do this? That is, how do you select from among the many possible descriptive statements concerning entity, which ones constitute the “final cause?”. And how does the logic work to bridge from the possible sets of descriptive statements to Final Cause? That is, in a way that does not betray arbitrariness, question begging, special pleading.

    I sure haven’t seen the answer in any of your acolytes replies thus far, nor in anything you’ve written here.

    Take some examples, such as a biological feature: the human leg.
    From the countless descriptions we can derive from observing legs: what they are made of fundamentally (e.g. physical particles and forces, chemical reactions, muscles, bones, blood,) on up to the dizzying number of descriptions we can give about how humans deploy their legs in action…how do you select any particular description(s) as identical with the final cause of legs, let alone move to what legs “ought” to be used for?

    Humans use legs for walking
    Humans use legs for jumping
    Human use legs for sitting down
    Humans use legs for kicking the faces of other people, etc.

    In the same say I’d want to know how precisely you move from any descriptive “is” statement to an “ought” statement, I’d like to know how, when inferring findal cause, you move from your descriptive statements to declarations of final cause (or even ends or functions or purposes…)

    If somewhere in such statements there could be the final cause, how precisely do you privilege any particular description over the others as the ” final cause” – how is the leap made such that it won’t betray the subjectivity and arbitrariness of your choices?

    So far I’ve found the answers from people at your blog site to be utterly inadequate and indicative of just the arbitrariness and subjectivity as seems to be peering from underneaton what I’ve seen you write on these matters.

    Thank you.

    RH

    RH

    If you can’t do a really good job of this, then it seems to me you fail to establish any of your assertions about purpose, function, ends, and certainly final cause (and with it Natural Law) as objective.

  94. dguller
    21 August 2011 at 10:41 | #94

    All good points, which is why I generally dislike thought experiments, and limit their use to be “intuition pumps”.

  95. RH
    21 August 2011 at 10:57 | #95

    dguller wrote:

    You can start with the heart’s function to pump blood through the circulatory system. Feser would argue that this is an inherent part of nature, and not just an imposition of the human mind. It is something that our minds can pick up by virtue of pattern-detecting capabilities.

    In the context of the disagreement going on here it, it is begging the question to assign “function” at the outset to the heart.

    We both agree we detect a pattern – heart pumping blood through the body.
    Whether it is necessary to view this in some form of objective teleological sense is under dispute.

    As is pointed out over and over, the problem is that, as it concerns the heart or any other biological feature, we apprehend many more patterns than the ones you arbitrarily selecting. We observe that hearts not only pump blood, bit they grow in size, shrivel, harden, burst, in.every single case the heart cells ultimately die, and become door for other organisms etc. These are all descriptions of patterns we observe when observing human hearts.

    It’s the same question as usual: how do you select from and move from ANY PARTICULAR REGULARITY/PATTERN/DESCRIPTION to your conclusion THIS ONE IS THE FUNCTION.

    You can show X happens, and we can agree all sorts of X’s happen.

    I have yet to see you, or Feser, or anyone else display these moves without the consequence of revealing the subjectivity involved.

    RH

  96. Steve Ruble
    21 August 2011 at 11:01 | #96

    If you start with the initial premise: “X has a function F if and only if X has evolved such that having F conferred a survival advantage”, then it follows that if X had not evolved, then X could not have a function F. That is just the logical implications of the premise, and as such, do not require any argument at all. The idea is that if we can identify functions without any knowledge of evolutionary history, then the premise is false, and should be rejected.

    The premise you cite sounds like a formal definition of a term of art – “function” – which specifies a procedure for evaluating whether or not a thing should be described as having a particular kind of property in discourse which takes that definition as normative for identifying that kind of property. Obviously, you can declare “we can identify functions without any knowledge of evolutionary history” using your own definition of “function” and your own procedure for determining whether or not something counts as a “function”, but you can’t turn around and say that the fact that you can identify function using your definition proves that the other definition is false! Someone who was using the other definition – what you call a premise – would be exactly as justified in pointing out that if what you have identified lacks an evolutionary history, you simply have not identified a function by their definition. How can you expect to conduct an argument on the basis of presenting incompatible definitions?

    The fact that we have assorted commonsense ways of identifying what we call “function” in hearts, or bear paws, or wings, in informal discourse seems to have misled some people into thinking that such common language definitions have some bearing on whether formal usages in the philosophy of biology are “correct” in some sense. In fact, such everyday usages have no more bearing on formal usages in biology than they have in formal usages in mathematics, but for some reason no one makes the mistake of reasoning that mathematicians are incorrect when they claim that “f is a function from X to Y if and only if for all x where x is in X, f(x)=>y and y is in Y”.

  97. RH
    21 August 2011 at 11:03 | #97

    Yeesh. My first time typing this stuff on an iPad.

    A sentence in the above post is to read:

    in every single case the heart cells die and become FOOD for other organisms.

    RH

  98. Tim Harris
    21 August 2011 at 11:18 | #98

    I find this whole argument about teleology and evolution quite extraordinarily tenuous : who is seriously asserting that the function of some organ can only be determined through an understanding of evolutionary theory or defined in its terms? Of course, if you are going put up that straw man as a serious position (held by who?), then you can get into the peculiar Feserian stratosphere where it seems that important things are being said – things that on examination are mere balloons, filled with hot air, like Rochester’s ‘bladders’ of philosophy or Ionesco’s sounds ‘filled with warm air weighing lighter than the air all around them’ and therefore able to ‘maintain themselves in the upper air, without risk of falling, at quite high altitudes’
    If ‘swampman’ has organs that sustain him in the way that human organs do human beings, then the fact that his organs have no evolutionary history does not entail that his organs have no functions. And since in fact there is no swampman and every living creature does in fact have an evolutionary history, the thought experiment, if it deserves the name, is singularly illuminating, if not downright obfuscating.
    I quote this comment by ‘irritable’ that was made in response to Jerry Coyne’s take on the MacDonald-Feser debate, since it seems important and, if what is said is correct, then there is surely small reason to take Feser seriously: his thought is a mere function of position that is fundamentally religious; which is to say, it is apologetics:

    It is worth pointing out that Feser fiercely adheres a theory called Hylemorphic Dualism, derived from speculations by Aristotle and Aquinas.

    What is this theory?

    (1) All sub­stances, in other words all self-subsisting entities that are the bearers of properties and attributes but are not themselves properties or attributes of anything, are compounds of matter (hyle) and form (morphe).
    (2) The form is substantial since it actualizes matter and gives the substance its very essence and identity.
    (3) The human person, being a substance, is also a compound of matter and substantial form.
    (4) Since a person is defined as an individual substance of a rational nature, the substantial form of the person is the rational nature of the person.
    (5) The exercise of rationality, however, is an essentially immaterial operation.
    (6) Hence, human nature itself is essentially immaterial.
    (7) But since it is immate­rial, it does not depend for its existence on being united to matter.
    (8) So a person is capable of existing, by means of his rational nature, which is traditionally called the soul, independently of the existence of his body.
    (9) Hence, human beings are immortal; but their identity and individu­ality does require that they be united to a body at some time in their existence. (see Oderberg, http://www.rdg.ac.uk/AcaDepts/ld/Philos/dso/papers/Hylemorphic%20Dualism.pdf, who concedes that mainstream philosophers regard it as tripe).

    This pitiful, question-begging, conceptual algorithm is held by Feser to demonstrate why only fools, unskilled in serious reasoning, believe in “physicalism” – that is, the idea that everything in the world can actually be reduced analytically to its fundamental physical, or material, basis.

    If ‘swampman’ has organs that sustain him in the way that human organs do human beings, then the fact that his organs have no evolutionary history does not entail that his organs have no functions. And since in fact there is no swampman and every living creature does in fact have an evolutionary history, the thought experiment, if it deserves the name, is singularly unilluminating, if not downright obfuscating.

    I quote this comment that was made in response to Jerry Coyne’s take on the MacDonald-Feser debate, since, if what is said is correct, then there is surely small reason to take Feser seriously: his thought is a mere function of position that is fundamentally religious; which is to say, it is apologetics:

  99. Tim Harris
    21 August 2011 at 11:21 | #99

    Oh, and there’s a mess at the end resulting from bad copying and pasting: forgive me.

  100. Steve Ruble
    21 August 2011 at 11:56 | #100

    dguller,

    Thanks for your response. I think your explanation is getting me closer to understanding what people mean by this teleology concept than anything else I’ve read over the past few days. However, it seems to me that there is still something odd going on in the conceptual framework that you just used to explain your position: there seems to be a disconnect between the things you pick out as possible outcomes (viz. rabbits turning into lions, or roses into acorns) and what we in fact know about how the world is put together. That is, we know that rabbits and lions are made out of atoms, atoms are made up of subatomic particles, and subatomic particles follow certain rules which are, as far as we can tell, never violated (on average). So it would seem that there is no need for, as it were, a directedness of rabbits towards continuing to be rabbits, because the fact that rabbits continue to be rabbits and never turn into lions is comprehensively explained by the fact that they are made up of parts which do not act in ways which would allow such a transformation. As a result, the only level at which it would make sense to consider the “directedness” of things is the subatomic level (which I suppose is what Feser is referring to above when he says, “…what new essentialists and Aristotelians argue is that at some level, and particularly the bottom level of physical causation, there will necessarily be certain dispositional properties.”).

    But it seems to me that this makes the “naming” of whatever it is which ensures reliable and predictable outcomes, whether in terms of “directedness” or in terms of “dispositional properties” – more unjustifiable than before. For one thing, as far as we can tell, in many cases the outcomes of subatomic events are not reliable and predictable, which indicates that at least some outcomes are not constrained – in their particulars – by the “directedness” of the entities involved. More generally, I find it very difficult to tell what the practical difference is between saying “particles of type P behave in ways which are described by rule R because they have a directedness toward following rule R (or because they have the dispositional property of following rule R)” and saying “particles of type P behave in ways which are described by rule R and we don’t know why”. What does making the first claim actually get you, in terms of insight into anything whatsoever?

  101. David Evans
    21 August 2011 at 12:09 | #101

    I had forgotten that Feser is an Aristotelian. “that which does not exist cannot influence that which does exist” is such an ancient Greek remark!

    However, it depends on what you mean by “exist”. There is a sense in which, for a reductionist, only material objects exist. The statement that a wasp’s sting has a particular function reduces, ultimately, to some incredibly complex set of relations between atoms or their components. The function exists by virtue of that set of relations. However for our limited minds the function only becomes comprehensible when translated into statements about what the wasp does with its sting.

    Just as elliptical planetary orbits (also reducible to relations between atoms) do not imply a cosmic geometer, biological functions do not imply a cosmic purposer.

  102. 21 August 2011 at 12:09 | #102

    Eric, from what I can tell, this discussion is primarily driven by Feser’s utter failure to grok the concepts of emergent phenomena and levels of description. Since you don’t use those terms either, I’m assuming you haven’t been formally exposed to them, but you nevertheless seem to have some intuitive grasp of the ideas. You might find it helpful, in dissecting his silliness, to look into these areas of study a little.

    I often find myself thinking that if philosophers were required to spend anywhere near as much time in their university education studying physics as some of them appear to spend memorizing which eminent names are attached to what ridiculous ideas (so that they can cut you down with an offhanded reference to “so-and-so” who has supposedly completely disproven whatever it is they disagree with), there would be a lot less utterly moronic philosophy out there.

  103. Another Matt
    21 August 2011 at 12:26 | #103

    But it seems to me that this makes the “naming” of whatever it is which ensures reliable and predictable outcomes, whether in terms of “directedness” or in terms of “dispositional properties” – more unjustifiable than before.

    Yes, and even less justifiable is the idea that this ability to name has specific ontological implications. It’s reminiscent of Anselm.

    I find it very difficult to tell what the practical difference is between saying “particles of type P behave in ways which are described by rule R because they have a directedness toward following rule R (or because they have the dispositional property of following rule R)” and saying “particles of type P behave in ways which are described by rule R and we don’t know why”. What does making the first claim actually get you, in terms of insight into anything whatsoever?

    Yes, yes, 1000 times yes.

  104. rick longworth
    21 August 2011 at 12:30 | #104

    “Teleology, as Feser construes is, is about the directedness towards certain ends that all beings have as part of their natures.”

    This definition is about as obscure and unseless as I can imagine. The word “directedness” suggests or implies a director or some agent which actively selects the course of events.
    “all beings” is highly suggestive of an intelligent agent, at least in the modern use of the term ( the second law of thermodynamics is not a being, and neither is a rock).
    “towards certain ends” adds another element of look-ahead as if the directing agent has an appreciation from the beginning as to where thing should end up.

    Natural law does not suggest or imply any such thing. If Feser wants to say that things seem to him to be directed by some agent, being, god, or whatever, then why not just say so directly. The ambiguous language gets in the way, and it’s not clear to me that obfuscation is not the intent. Very frustrating.

    Also, note that evolution of organisms is a complex process that leads to confusion when we apply non-scientific, unempirical, analysis. Lets simplify. Consider the formation of stars and planets which is the application of natural law within a simpler framework – gravity, heat, pressure, etc. You can see that because the universe came into being as energy and matter with certain natural laws, that stars and planets are bound to have constraints on their formation and evolution. They will all, for instance become roundish balls of matter, and not cubes or dodecahedrons. These constraints bring about many fairly predictable forms of stars and planets, with mystery only in the details and at the extremes. But it is clear to me that one would not want to think that the predictable patterns we observe in heavenly bodies had any teleological meaning. The causal chains are pretty straightforward. The laws themselves provide an adequate explanation. In order to understand planetary form and function we would be advised to study the laws of physics with no need to speculate on “directedness toward certain ends”. I say humbug.

  105. rick longworth
    21 August 2011 at 13:00 | #105

    I think I agree with RH – and the whole concept of Final Causes, whatever Aquinas meant by it, seems imbedded in a medieval notion of a universe (the earth, as they saw the universe then) created in its final form, static and unchanging, with jugglers on street corners and church bells ringing. Final Form requires Final Causes, I suppose. As our understanding of the physical universe has improved, this medieval conception seems quaint. We now know that we live as the product of matter and energy evolving since (at least) the big bang, and destined to continue evolving into the farthest imaginable future. If Aquinas had lived during the late Cambrian, he would have had to think of the proto-crustaceans as the Final Form justified by the Final Cause. Deviant sex among the crawling invertebrates would have been deemed a cardinal sin.

  106. 21 August 2011 at 13:06 | #106

    AnotherMatt says:

    Dennett’s “philosophical zombie” is an example of an implausible being whose existence is ultimately rejected as nonsensical.

    Just for accuracy, the philosophical zombie is beloved of mysterian dualists like David Chalmers. Dan Dennett thinks that “the zombic hunch” is “a persistent cognitive illusion and nothing more.” (See “The Zombic Hunch” in his 2005 collection of essays, “Sweet Dreams”, where he also takes on those like Searle who try to “solve” the pseudo-mystery of consciousness by making “the turn to physics”.)

  107. DiscoveredJoys
    21 August 2011 at 13:09 | #107

    It seems to me that a great deal of the argument circles around the use of the word ‘function’.

    If you ask ‘What is the function of the kidneys?’ there is a huge difference between the variants

    1) ‘What are kidneys for?’ and

    2) ”How do kidneys behave?’

    The first variant imports inference of purpose from an observer. Teleology (in my opinion here) is a characteristic of the observation, not the observed item.

    The second variant merely asks what data may be observed. The theory of evolution (with all the bells and whistles) is a model of how the behaviour of ancestral forms could have been modified through iterations of selection to display the behaviours we observe today.

    While most scientists talk about what something is for this is a poor model of explanation (but an efficient way of communication) which exposes our cognitive biases in the detection of agency and the creation of narratives. I don’t believe most scientists accept teleological explanations as actual mechanisms,.

  108. dguller
    21 August 2011 at 13:30 | #108

    Steve:

    Obviously, you can declare “we can identify functions without any knowledge of evolutionary history” using your own definition of “function” and your own procedure for determining whether or not something counts as a “function”, but you can’t turn around and say that the fact that you can identify function using your definition proves that the other definition is false! Someone who was using the other definition – what you call a premise – would be exactly as justified in pointing out that if what you have identified lacks an evolutionary history, you simply have not identified a function by their definition. How can you expect to conduct an argument on the basis of presenting incompatible definitions?

    The issue is what those definitions entail. The premise that I quoted entails that one cannot possibly know what the function of anything is without knowing its evolutionary history, and so prior to Darwin, we had no idea what the heart did, or what legs do, or what wings do, and so on. I agree with Feser that this is absurd, and so I reject the premise.

    The fact that we have assorted commonsense ways of identifying what we call “function” in hearts, or bear paws, or wings, in informal discourse seems to have misled some people into thinking that such common language definitions have some bearing on whether formal usages in the philosophy of biology are “correct” in some sense. In fact, such everyday usages have no more bearing on formal usages in biology than they have in formal usages in mathematics, but for some reason no one makes the mistake of reasoning that mathematicians are incorrect when they claim that “f is a function from X to Y if and only if for all x where x is in X, f(x)=>y and y is in Y”.

    Again, if there is a biological definition of “function” that does not involve any teleological concepts, then I am open to learning about it. However, it has been my experience that they all sneak in some kind of talk about what something is for, unless the concept of “function” is utterly empty and ultimately just means “whatever works to maximize fitness”. In other words, the idea is that a trait is selected for, because it does something to increase survival, and this usually involves a change in the function of some physical part, either in degree or kind.

  109. Daniel
    21 August 2011 at 13:33 | #109

    Anne,

    Personally, I’m familiar with the terms you mention, but I don’t see how an awareness of these terms would reveal that Feser is confused. Suppose that the consciousness emerges out of aimless matter — how would that show that our scientific theories are right in ascribing functions/aims to matter? Do our ascriptions of functions just always “happen” to line up with the movements of atoms?

    This is where you would appeal to levels of description, no? So, on one level, an event is “the movement of such-and-such from A to B” and on another level the same event is “John’s attempt to catch the football”. The question, however, is which event is more FUNDAMENTAL. If you say that the first description is more fundamental, then what you are essentially saying is that the second description is dispensable. But if the second description is dispensable here, then why would any ascription of function ever be fundamentally true? Aren’t they just paraphrases, so to speak?

    Now, you might want to say that BOTH descriptions are equally fundamental; i.e., neither are paraphrases. But this brings up a sort of dualistic interactionism, since it seems to say that there are two different events which correspond — miraculously?

    Now, I haven’t read Feser’s arguments at length, so I’m not qualified to say if I’m defending precisely his point, or just something in the neighborhood of his point.

  110. tomh
    21 August 2011 at 13:36 | #110

    Edward Feser wrote:
    I believe the reason is that his personal animosity toward Catholicism is so very great that he finds it difficult to give a book like mine a fair reading.

    It is so tiresome to see Christians in general and Catholics in particular wave the persecution flag anytime someone disagrees with their assumptions and beliefs. It can’t be that one finds their arguments specious and less than compelling on the merits, it must be that they have a deep-seated predjudice against Catholicism. So tiresome.

  111. dguller
    21 August 2011 at 13:44 | #111

    RH:

    How EXACTLY do you do this? That is, how do you select from among the many possible descriptive statements concerning entity, which ones constitute the “final cause?”. And how does the logic work to bridge from the possible sets of descriptive statements to Final Cause? That is, in a way that does not betray arbitrariness, question begging, special pleading.

    It seems that your dilemma is similar to mine with respect to teleological accounts; namely, where does one stop the causal chains? Every entity has a particular range of possible behavioral outcomes, and those outcomes continue to ripple through space-time. Where do we stop the causal chains, and declare that event to be the end of the original event?

    My solution would be to first identify what the possible outcomes are by scientific study and observation. Once we have observed and studied the outcomes, we can attempt to classify them and categorize them into some kind of hierarchy. We can compare them to similar entities, and see what their differentiating features are, which might give us another clue as to what their unique function may be.

    For example, looking at the heart, we observe that it pumps blood through the circulatory system. We can compare it to other organs, which do different things. We can examine its pumping in the context of the overall organism, and see its pumping as an essential component to life. We can observe that there is nothing else in the organism that does what it does. At a cellular level, its cells are different from the muscle cells of our arms and legs, for example, because they can auto-excite themselves. We can see that this is an important difference, because in order to pump blood, there must be a rhythmic contraction that does not exhaust the muscle tissue. I think that any reasonable person would conclude from this that the function of the heart is to pump blood through the circulatory system.

    All the other functions of the heart within the organism are consequences of this core function. For example, the delivery of nutrients and oxygen to tissues could not happen without pumping, the removal of toxic substances to the liver and kidneys and lungs, and so on.

    But that is only from the standpoint of the individual organism. When we look beyond to the wider ecosystem, then we can see other causal consequences of the heart, such as eventual decomposition and consumption by other organisms. Therefore, from that standpoint, another function of the heart is to eventually feed microscopic organisms and continue their cycle of life.

    From the standpoint of the galaxy, the heart is useless, and does nothing important at all.

    So, there are real functions that are disclosed at different levels of analysis, and we can discover these functions by scientific study. But I agree that there is no single function that is final.

  112. dguller
    21 August 2011 at 14:31 | #112

    I don’t think that there is that huge a difference between (1) and (2), except that (1) can carry the implication that there is a designer that put the purpose into the kidneys. However, this is not necessarily the case, especially under the Aristotelian conception, in which teleology is mostly unconscious and not under the supervision of a higher intelligence at all.

    And I do think that scientists utilize teleological explanations, and accept them as valid, unless they see a theistic boogeyman hiding around the corner, and then they discard what was perfectly reasonable behaviour for something quite absurd. It would be like ceasing to use reason itself, because there was a chance that reason could lead to the existence of God. No-one would think of doing such a thing in that case, and so there is no good reason to do it in the case of teleology, I think.

  113. dguller
    21 August 2011 at 14:33 | #113

    Anne:

    Even if you just speak of atoms, it is clear that there is goal-directed activity, unconscious, of course. Electrons surrounding the nucleus seek to occupy the lowest energy states. This does not mean that they have a desire anything like humans do, and follow it, but only that they have an inner propensity or nature such that they behave in predictable ways by virtue of pursuing certain ends.

  114. rick longworth
    21 August 2011 at 14:39 | #114

    What is an “inner propensity”? Do rocks and billboard have inner propensities? Inner, it seems to me, implies inward thoughts – ie. mental concerns. Does an electron have mental concerns?
    You seem to be verging on describing natural laws in terms better suited for psychology. Why mix terminology across sciences and call it philosophy?

  115. dguller
    21 August 2011 at 14:54 | #115

    Steve:

    That is, we know that rabbits and lions are made out of atoms, atoms are made up of subatomic particles, and subatomic particles follow certain rules which are, as far as we can tell, never violated (on average). So it would seem that there is no need for, as it were, a directedness of rabbits towards continuing to be rabbits, because the fact that rabbits continue to be rabbits and never turn into lions is comprehensively explained by the fact that they are made up of parts which do not act in ways which would allow such a transformation. As a result, the only level at which it would make sense to consider the “directedness” of things is the subatomic level (which I suppose is what Feser is referring to above when he says, “…what new essentialists and Aristotelians argue is that at some level, and particularly the bottom level of physical causation, there will necessarily be certain dispositional properties.”).

    That would be true only if we assumed that there was a single level of explanation, i.e. the physical stance, to use Dennett’s terminology. It would also assume that teleology at the fundamental level of reality cannot generate a different type of teleology at a different level in some kind of emergent phenomena. I don’t think either of those assumptions is necessary true, because even if rabbits only persisted in being rabbits by virtue of the behavior of their atomic components, then it still follows that the rabbits are persisting in being rabbits, and that this is a true description. You also seem to assume that one commits the fallacy of composition if one ascribes teleology to both the parts and the whole, which is not necessarily the case, either.

    But it seems to me that this makes the “naming” of whatever it is which ensures reliable and predictable outcomes, whether in terms of “directedness” or in terms of “dispositional properties” – more unjustifiable than before. For one thing, as far as we can tell, in many cases the outcomes of subatomic events are not reliable and predictable, which indicates that at least some outcomes are not constrained – in their particulars – by the “directedness” of the entities involved.

    That is only partially correct, I think. There are properties of subatomic particles that are reliable and predictable, such as the conservation of fermions in particle interactions, for example, which always holds. And even the probabilistic behavior that you are likely referring to is not just utter chaos. We know with extreme accuracy what the odds are of certain outcomes, but we do not know when those outcomes will happen, and which particles will perform those outcomes. So, even if it is the nature of subatomic particles to behave in a probabilistic fashion, as many quantum theorists believe, then that can be ascribed to their nature and be part of the directedness of their behavior. The specifics are less important than the general framework in which entities have natures that direct them to behave in some ways and not others, and that this directedness is a part of nature, and not just a psychological quirk of human beings.

    More generally, I find it very difficult to tell what the practical difference is between saying “particles of type P behave in ways which are described by rule R because they have a directedness toward following rule R (or because they have the dispositional property of following rule R)” and saying “particles of type P behave in ways which are described by rule R and we don’t know why”. What does making the first claim actually get you, in terms of insight into anything whatsoever?

    Well, for one thing, the first statement locates the rationale for their behavior within the particles themselves, and thus provides a focus for scientific investigations. The second does not provide any guidance whatsoever to further our understanding at all.

    Another practical difference is the distinction between correlation and causation. The former statement would be more consistent with causation, and the latter more with correlation. I would object to any account of science that made it simply the seeker of correlations and not deeper causes for all that we observe around us.

    But ultimately I would agree with you that we do not understand the directionality of entities, and how this is possible. However, that does not mean that we need to deny that it even exists.

  116. Steve Ruble
    21 August 2011 at 14:54 | #116

    dguller,

    You’re still acting as if it makes sense to use your definition of “function” (whatever it is) to evaluate whether or not someone else’s definition of “function” is absurd. What you are doing may seem like it makes sense, because it may seem like informally discussing “function” with any old definition is in the same realm of discourse as formally discussing “function” with a specific definition, but in fact it makes no sense. It would be just as nonsensical for you to declare that the mathematical definition of “function” is absurd because it implies that for a wing to have a function it must map inputs from a domain onto values from a range.

    I am curious about an apparent shift in what you mean by “function” when you say that the formal definition we’re discussing entails that “prior to Darwin, we had no idea what the heart did, or what legs do, or what wings do, and so on”. I actually agree that such an entailment would be absurd, but in fact I can’t see any conflict between the formal non-teleological definition of “function” and the idea that we might know what hearts, legs, and wings do. Hearts grow, beat, pump blood, and other things, legs grow, support bodies, move around, and other things, wings grow, beat, often provide lift, and other things. We can certainly observe those things, no matter how “function” is defined. But if you want to say that to pump blood is the function of the heart, well, it’s pretty clear that you want to say something more than just “this is what hearts are observed to do”.

    And, of course, there are good reasons to want to say more than “this is what hearts are observed to do”. We like to find explanations for things. Saying that “hearts are for pumping blood” may even feel like it contains some kind of explanation of the existence and properties of the heart, but without some indication of what it means to say that something is “for” something else, it’s really no explanation at all. Saying that “hearts are directed towards pumping blood” doesn’t provide an explanation either, because it’s not at all obvious how that might work nor how you could find that out. On the other hand, one can provide an explanation for the existence and properties of the heart without using the words “for” or “function” at all; for example: “animals which had muscles which were dedicated to ensuring that blood was reliably distributed throughout their bodies were able to grow larger and stay healthier than their conspecifics who did not have such dedicated muscles, and so their frequency in the population increased”. Obviously, you could – with actual research – discover a great number of different heart-related genes which were more beneficial to their carriers than their alleles, and thus you could acquire explanations for many aspects of what the heart does and how it does it. You could even discover – quite possibly – that some attributes of the heart were the result of neutral drift, and therefore had no explanation beyond chance, which would also be interesting. What’s important to note, however, is that the entire chain of explanation comprises observations of what hearts do and have done, not claims about what hearts are or have been for.

    However, given such an explanation, and given a definition of “function” such as the formal one above, it is reasonable to say “a function of the heart is to pump blood”, and it’s possible to defend one’s rationale for making that claim in a way that is quite robust. Much more robust than, for example, attempting to defend the claim that the function of a heart is to pump blood because obviously that’s what it’s for, or because it’s intrinsically directed towards the pumping of blood, or any such thing that has the form of an explanation but upon examination yields no explanatory content. If you’re interested in actually knowing why things are the way they are, you’re going to need to look at how they came to be that way, not what you think they’re trying to be.

  117. 21 August 2011 at 14:56 | #117

    Kel,

    The trouble is that “thinking in terms of design” and “finding teleological language indispensible” are themselves instances of the very phenomenon you are trying to explain away. To think in terms of design is to be in a state which “points” or is “directed at” something beyond itself, viz. to the notion of design itself. To “find something indispensible” is to have a certain kind of dispositional property, and in the way I described above, dispositional properties also involve a kind of “directedness” or “pointing” to something beyond themselves.

    Here’s the basic problem situation. The early modern thinkers wanted to eliminate all such “directedness” — which was the core of the Scholastic idea of final causality — from the material world. Hence they relocated all of it into the mind, as the intentionality and purposes we are familiar with in conscious thought. They were aware, though, that precisely because they redefined matter in such a way that it was devoid of any inherent directedness or teleology, they couldn’t consistently characterize the mind (the site of directedness par excellence) itself as material. This is one reason most of them were dualists. (Not all — there were materialists like Hobbes — but it did not catch on at the time because dualism essentially followed from the new conception of matter, in part for the reason just given.)

    Now, if one wants to avoid such dualism, one will have to find a way to assimilate mind to matter. But all such attempts (so I argue in the book) are either implicitly eliminativist, or they implicitly attribute to matter precisely the sorts of inherent teleological properties that were supposed to have been banished from matter. (Algorithms would be an example of the latter — I would say that there is no way to make sense of the idea of algorithms as an inherent feature of nature unless we are willing to attribute to these purportedly algorithmic processes the sort of unconscious directedness that Aristotelians have always attributed to nature.)

    The eliminativist alternative, I argue, cannot coherently be made out. So, the teleology-denying naturalist has to either (a) endorse some kind of dualism, (b) implicitly endorse something like Aristotelian teleology, or (c) endorse an incoherent elminativism. (Or, to round the possibilities out, (d) endorse some kind of panpsychism or idealism, if one wants to tie — as Aristotelians do not — all directedness or teleology directly to a mind.) But all of these options effectively involve either the abandonment or self-refutation of naturalism. And thus naturalism fails.

    Again, all this is spelled out in the book.

  118. dguller
    21 August 2011 at 14:57 | #118

    Rick:

    This definition is about as obscure and unseless as I can imagine. The word “directedness” suggests or implies a director or some agent which actively selects the course of events.


    So what? Just because it implies this does not mean that it necessarily follows. I certainly don’t think that it does, and even Feser says that the majority of teleology is unconscious.

    “all beings” is highly suggestive of an intelligent agent, at least in the modern use of the term ( the second law of thermodynamics is not a being, and neither is a rock).


    A being is just a singular entity that exists. A rock would certainly qualify. Consciousness or intellect is unnecessary.

    “towards certain ends” adds another element of look-ahead as if the directing agent has an appreciation from the beginning as to where thing should end up.

    Yes, that is one way to look at it, but not the only way. It is not how Aristotle looked at it, and it is not how I look at it.

  119. 21 August 2011 at 14:58 | #119

    Thank you, Anne. Pehaps you are on to something here. I have to admit — after spending the morning and most of the afternoon first, writing another post on the matter that most directly concerns this blogger — and then going through a process, which seems endless, of updaing some of my computer software, including the BIOS — that I find the whole discussion perplexing.

    I still have not really had a clear answer, that I can see, to my question, whether Feser got anything more out than he put in, and whether what he gets out is something derivable from the opening assumption about a particular definition of function, which, since he doesn’t get it from anywhere, could be anyone’s definition of function. I can’t find it in Dennett’s book, certainly not in Chapter 14, which is about the evolution of meaning and the idea of essentialism, and I don’t have Millikin’s. But since Feser has made such a point of addressing Dennett in a fairly hostile way, I assumed that he was getting it from Dennett. I admit there is a similarity between the stories that Dennett tells and the swampman thought experiment (though is it one?), since Dennett writes about Putnam’s Twin Earth thought experiment and horses-schmorses (the second being how Dennett names their Twin Earth “equivalents”), and then he, justly, I think, suggests that our concepts are indeterminate enough to be able to include the schmorses into the language (under horses) without undo logical harm, just as his frog-eye tongue connexion responded easily both to flies and food pellets.

    But if it’s not Dennett’s, whose is it? And what point exactly is it trying to make? I still don’t understand. The functions of various characteristics of living organisms derive from phylogeny in some way, whether by selection or drift. Whether they can be defined in terms of that process is another question, and though I haven’t read reams and reams of stuff about evolution, I haven’t seen this definition anywhere. And since the outcome of the process, while deterministic is still stochastic, it doesn’t seem to me that it makes a lot of sense retrospectively to ascribe teleology to the drift or selection events. Rewind the tape, Gould assured us, and things might have looked very different at this point in the history of the earth. If that is true, and teleology in some sense ascribes some kind of essential properties to organisms, then even a weak form of Aristotelian teleology doesn’t seem to me to apply, and certainly not a robust one. But Feser needs at least a weak form to make his leap from teleology to God, and I suspect he needs a robust form, and I don’t see where either is to come from.

    Are we just at loggerheads here? Feser defines function in such a way — I know, he says he’s just encapsulating what some (extreme?) Darwinists say — but doesn’t he need their actual argument or claim or definition here? — so that, to his mind, it turns out to be incoherent. So, evolution depends upon at least a weak form of Aristotelian teleology. However, since this is the revenge of Aristotle in a plainly Christian apologetic text, there’s a much larger claim lurking in the shadows. That’s the one side. And on the other side is Dennett’s claim about the intentional stance, which Feser doesn’t think he’s entitled to. But why not? If we understand function in terms of etiology, what is to stop us from taking the intentional stance towards the objects of our research and make shrewd guesses as to what certain features “are for”, and confirm these guesses by further study and experiment, by finding out what role they played in the organism’s evolutionary history? Isn’t that what biologists do?

    Now, having expressed my perplexity, perhaps you could explain exactly how the language of emergent phenomena and levels of description will help? Or have I just been doing this in a crude way?

  120. 21 August 2011 at 15:02 | #120

    Dmitry, why can’t we just speak of electrons as behaving in predictable ways? What does adding “pursue certain ends” add to our understanding of electrons?

  121. Another Matt
    21 August 2011 at 15:06 | #121

    Electrons surrounding the nucleus seek to occupy the lowest energy states.

    So if this is the sense that “dispositional property” is meant, what kind of property is not dispositional? I don’t see what it gets you that saying plainly that something has a property or behaves in a certain way doesn’t. Isn’t this just turning empirical induction on its head by positing classes or ranges of properties and behaviors (“stability,” say) and then looking for things that exhibit them, instead of applying names to patterns of property or behavior in observation that appear often enough to warrant a label? It seems to me a leap to claim that the ability to apply a label to a pattern of behavior says something profound about the world.

  122. 21 August 2011 at 15:09 | #122

    @ David Evans:

    Where does the “sting” exist at the fundamental, physical level? Where does it exists in the description level of atoms? The sting certainly does exist physically, but the contour around it, delimiting it from its environment, does not exist in the equations of physics. We add it “by hand”, we choose to divide nature up in this particular way.

    Of course, some concepts and ways to divide nature are more useful than others (for various uses). Inventing the totally artificial, abstract, concept of “sting” and assigning this label to the lump of matter at the end of the wasp’s back-end is definitely useful towards understanding biology. But “stings” as-such don’t exist in nature; what exists are various specific biological structures, some of which we choose to label “sting”.

    Likewise with “function”. The wasp’s sting “just is”. Look at it at the bottom physical level all you want – you’ll never find its “function” written all over it. It doesn’t do what it does because it is a sting; we call it a sting because of what it does.This is just our way of understanding the way it works at s high level of description. “Biological function”, like “sting”, is just a way we divide nature up, not a basic property of nature. Saying that the “function” of the sting is to inject venom is just our way of describing it; the sting doesn’t know about our descriptions of it as a “sting” or of its “function’ – it just continues on being, oblivious to our attempts to put it into this mental frame or another.

  123. Steve Ruble
    21 August 2011 at 15:31 | #123

    (Eric, I hope you don’t mind hosting so much back-and-forth between me and dguller; I’m pretty sure we’re staying within the topic of the parent post, but I can cut it out if you think it’s distracting)

    dguller,

    …even if rabbits only persisted in being rabbits by virtue of the behavior of their atomic components, then it still follows that the rabbits are persisting in being rabbits, and that this is a true description

    Well, yes, but I find it very difficult to imagine what it would mean to say that rabbits stay rabbits because of the properties of their fundamental substrate – which completely prevents them from suddenly not being rabbits – and rabbits stay rabbits because of their own rabbity teleology which prevents them from suddenly not being rabbits. The second clause there doesn’t seem to do any work, if you see what I mean. It might be impossible for us to actually grasp the way in which all the subatomic particles in a rabbit work together to make up the small animal we see, and certainly we ourselves are unable to describe the behaviors and observable properties of the rabbit in terms of particle physics (and therefore must move on to a design or intentional stance, as per Dennett) but I don’t see how that fact gives rise to anything “mysterious” about the continuous existence of rabbits qua rabbits which would impel us to hypothesize some additional metaphysical property. Why it is that subatomic particles seem to follow the rules they are observed to follow is, I admit, a mystery to me. But why rabbits should only and ever behave in ways which are consistent with being made up of subatomic particles is quite easily explained by the observation that, in fact, they are!

    But ultimately I would agree with you that we do not understand the directionality of entities, and how this is possible. However, that does not mean that we need to deny that it even exists.

    Fair enough, but what I don’t understand is why we would want to claim that the directionality of entities does exist. It just doesn’t seem to do any more work than admitting that we don’t know why things go the way they go, all the way down to the Planck length. You point out that the teleological perspective “locates the rationale for their behavior within the particles themselves, and thus provides a focus for scientific investigations” but I think it’s likely that people investigating particle physics have already decided that the particles are probably involved in the physics, so I’m not convinced that we need to introduce teleology to get them to move in that direction. Besides, it may turn out that the rationale for the behavior of particles is somewhere else – in the properties of the vacuum, say, or if it turns out we’re running in a simulation, or the universe is “really” a brane and what we think are particles are actually projections from another brane into ours, or whatever… in any case, I really can’t see how saying “we don’t know” impedes scientific investigation.

  124. 21 August 2011 at 16:49 | #124

    dguller: I don’t think your phrasing is a useful way to characterize the task of naturalizing teleology — and this is something that Feser also seems to be confused about, so it’s worth digging into here.

    The task isn’t quite “to explain function in completely non-functional and non-teleological terms,” as you characterize it, because talking in terms of function is already explanatory. We simply do not need to explain how function works as a form of explanation: That’s quite intuitive, and isn’t a source of confusion or controversy. Rather, the goal is to make sure that all our forms of explanation are mutually consistent, such that for anything we explain in functional terms, we can also explain in non-functional terms. The concern about teleology is that functional explanations (final cause explanations) are somehow or other inconsistent with science’s ordinary cause-and-effect explanations: That is, the concern is that a functional explanation might have logical implications which are inconsistent with the implications of non-functional explanations. Yes, some find such concerns so overwhelming that they seek to eliminate teleology (Searle, for example), but that’s far from being a universal view — and there are good reasons to think the path of eliminating teleology is a dead end. (In my opinion, Feser doesn’t really do enough to argue that eliminating teleology is a dead end; that’s one of those things he irritatingly declares to be “obvious.” I’ll do better below.)

    Towards the end of the bit Eric quoted in this post, Feser brings in the concept of “irreducibility.” I’m not sure Feser understands what the concept entails, and I certainly don’t think he’s correct in saying that “the human mind is the example par excellence of an irreducibly teleological phenomenon.” In order to say that, Feser must be assuming that reducibility entails elimination, and that’s not necessarily the case; there are many senses of reducibility, and I suspect Feser may be equivocating between them (without necessarily realizing it).

    ‘Reducibility’ is about explanation: To say that functional explanation is “reducible” is to say that we are not simply stuck with nothing more to say after claiming, for example, that the function of the heart is to pump blood: But such a teleological/functional explanation — an explanation in terms of final cause, asserting that the function of the heart, its telos or purpose, is to pump blood — is not the only explanation that can be given of the phenomenon in question. Rather, we can also explain how the heart fulfills its blood-pumping function, thus providing a proximate causal explanation — an explanation in terms of efficient causes, such as heart muscle contractions and the like. A proximate causal explanation of how the heart fulfills its function is in every way compatible with the final cause explanation that the function of the heart is to pump blood, and does not obviate the truth, usefulness, or accuracy of that functional explanation. One could also give a more detailed, “lower level” proximate causal explanation not in terms of heart muscle contraction, but in terms ion channels, nerve impulses, and other details of biochemistry. If one were very ambitious, one could even dig into the biophysics of the forces at play in the cytoskeletal structures of individual heart muscle cells. Again, all of these are consistent with the functional explanation that the heart is for pumping blood, and all enhance our understanding of how the heart pumps blood.

    We can also explain why the heart has the function of pumping blood — how it came to have that function through a long chain of natural selection going back to the origins of fluid circulation in multicellular organisms. This would be an ultimate causal explanation — an explanation in terms of a chain of prior efficient causes — which again is in every way compatible with the functional explanation, just as it is with the proximate causal explanations discussed above.

    The important thing to note about this example is that none of these explanations is “the right explanation”: They are all accurate and useful explanations of the pumping heart phenomenon which answer different questions about it, and enough of them taken together would explain everything we might want to know about the phenomenon. One widely shared way of understanding the idea of ‘reducibility’ in philosophy of science is exactly this kind of mutual consistency: The functional explanation is reducible to the ultimate causal explanation in the sense that the latter explains how the function originated. The functional explanation is reducible to the proximate causal explanations in the sense that the latter explain how the function is carried out. But to say that function is “reducible” in this sense does not eliminate the functional explanation, it elaborates on it and enhances it. And that goes both ways. If you were to ask, to borrow Andrew G’s example from this thread, why a gene for an enzyme that allows nylon to be broken down and digested has become more prevalent in a given population of bacteria, the functional explanation — that the enzyme serves a survival and reproductive purpose in the environment occupied by this population of bacteria — elaborates on and enhances the proximate and ultimate causal explanations.

    Philosophers like Searle insist (and there’s a lot of insistence but very little argument from this crowd) that teleological/functional language has too much baggage tied up with attributions of consciousness/intention/mind/etc, such that it doesn’t really elaborate on and enhance proximate and ultimate causal explanations — it distorts them, so it should be replaced entirely by the other sorts of explanations. But really, the only distortions I regularly see in this realm are the willful ones introduced by people like Feser who equivocate about the meaning of reducibility to claim that human consciousness is “irreducibly teleological” when in fact we have very good (and always improving) proximate causal explanations for how the human brain works and ultimate causal explanations for how the human brain evolved. No one with any sense is particularly impressed by or concerned with such distortions, so I don’t see that as a good reason to dump teleological/functional explanations entirely. And there are very good reasons NOT to replace teleological/functional explanations: Tell five hundred evolutionary biologists that they should do without the concept of adaptation because it does nothing to elaborate and expand on their explanations of the structure and processes of life and see how they respond.

  125. DiscoveredJoys
    21 August 2011 at 16:55 | #125

    Unconscious or not, Aristotle argues that there must be a final cause which brings about the ‘necessary’ conditions – which I think is your argument.

    Now I expect that necessary conditions are all that is needed to explain what we observe – which is contrary to your argument.

    What tests can we construct to falsify the requirement for final causes? If we cannot construct such a test then final causes are (currently) outside the scope of methodological naturalism – but surely final causes must affect the natural world if they bring about necessary conditions?

    I propose (not original!) that philosophical or theological arguments about final causes outside the natural world are absurd.

  126. rick longworth
    21 August 2011 at 17:08 | #126

    If my characterization makes sense, why then the use of such ambiguous language to describe something that is straightforward? I guess it sells books.

  127. rick longworth
    21 August 2011 at 17:14 | #127

    DiscoveredJoys: “philosophical or theological arguments about final causes outside the natural world are absurd.”

    That’s the word I was looking for. Thanks.

  128. 21 August 2011 at 17:20 | #128

    I don’t know about Dennett’s “Zombie Hunch” argument, but I know for damned sure that the zombie argument is transparently circular. It asks us, for the sake of argument, to imagine a being that is physically identical in every way to other humans, down to the workings of every neuron in its brain, but that also lacks what philosophers call qualia, the subjective phenomenal aspects of living in the world. The argument sets out to prove naturalistic monism (brain activity constitutes experience) false by positing the possibility of a dualistic mind (a brain otherwise identical to ours, but whose activity does not generate experiences), but the impossibility of such a dualistic mind is essential to the definition of naturalistic monism. It’s no more than a somewhat tricky way of saying “Assume for the sake of argument that your position is mistaken, and from that assumption I can show that your position is mistaken.”

    For me, one of the deepest and most profound puzzles in philosophy is why anyone finds the zombie argument persuasive, or even mildly interesting. (No matter how awful they are, at least the arguments for the existence of God do a better job at concealing their circularity than this ridiculous excuse for an argument. Jeesh!)

  129. Kel
    21 August 2011 at 17:23 | #129

    “But the purpose of camouflage is to hide the organism from its prey. Whether that was the original intention all along is irrelevant. If you agree that that is the purpose of camouflage, then we are just arguing semantics, because you have agreed that teleology is inherent in nature, and not just an imposition of our minds.”
    But I’m not agreeing that teleology is inherent in nature, I’m arguing that it’s emergent and contingent. Now that might be arguing semantics, but it’s an important distinction to make. I see no reason that any design in biology requires any form of mind to come about – it just does by the nature of the process. If this is me getting on board with Feser, then I’m wondering how how God fits into all this – as the process certainly has no purpose, goals, or ends.

  130. 21 August 2011 at 17:48 | #130

    Actually, Eric, I think my comment above about Feser’s subtle equivocation about the meaning of ‘irreducible’ is relevant here. One way to characterize the distinction between the form of reductionism I advocate and the eliminative reductionism of Searle is in terms of emergent properties.

    On my view (widely shared among philosophers of biology), a functional explanation of some feature of an organism is ‘reducible’ to a proximate causal explanation (biomechanics, biochemistry, etc.) in the sense that such an explanation will give an account (at some level of detail) of how the feature satisfies its function, and is also ‘reducible’ to an ultimate causal explanation (an explanation in terms of natural selection) in the sense that such an explanation will explain how the feature came to have the function it has, but such ‘reductive’ explanations are mutually consistent and informative without any of them eliminating the others. On this view, giving an account of how a feature came to be functional (adaptive) in the first place does not replace the functional explanation, because functional explanations in biology are explanatory and productive on their own, even in the absence of such an ultimate causal (selective) explanation. On a view like Searle’s, functional explanations are taken to be inadequate stand-ins for other sorts of causal explanations that do no work of their own: That is, discussing a feature of an organism in terms of its function has no independent explanatory power that can be separated from an explanation of the evolutionary history of the feature. Frankly, I think anyone who truly understands how evolution works — by grasping the concept of ‘exaptation,’ for example (since you mentioned Gould in a comment above) — can see why views like Searle’s are mistaken, but I that’s too much to get into here.

  131. Patrick who is not Patrick
    21 August 2011 at 17:57 | #131

    This whole debate reminds me of that other group of worthless apologetics- the presuppositionalists. The like to pretend that “laws of logic” are actual things, much in the way that aristotelians like to pretend that “function” is an actual thing, when in reality they’re both just ways of describing stuff doing stuff and how that stuff gets done.

    Then they engage in a sort of rhetorical mugging, in which they hope that word games and common english grammar can be used to confuse the issue to the point where they “win.”

  132. 21 August 2011 at 18:38 | #132

    RH,

    Perhaps it would be best to start with an example the neo-Aristotelian ethicist Philippa Foot — who was, incidentally, an atheist — uses in her book Natural Goodness. A lioness tends to nourish her cubs. And that is not some incidental fact, but follows from the nature of the animal. A lioness who failed to do this with would be a deficient or defective lioness, just as a lioness whose leg had been torn off or which had been born blind would be deficient or defective qua lioness. In this sense, natures entail norms, both with respect to bodily features and with respect to patterns of behavior. When we call something “good” what we mean fundamentally, for an Aristotelian, is the sense of “good” we have in mind when we describe something as a “good specimen” of a general kind of thing. The lioness who fails to nourish her cubs or who has lost a leg is in this sense less “good” than one which has neither flaw, That is to say, it is less perfect an instantiation of the pattern defined by the nature of a lioness. Where behavior is concerned, a lioness who fails to pursue the activities that tend to flow from the norm defined by the nature of lions — eating, sleeping, nourishing young, etc. — will simply not flourish qua lioness, will not pursue what is good, as it were, for lionesses.

    Now, so far this is not a moral notion of goodness. The lioness who fails to nourish her cubs is a “bad” lioness in the sense of being deficient, but not in the sense of moral badness. Moral badness enters in only where we have a creature with reason and free will who can grasp his nature and deliberately choose whether or not to live in a way consistent with what that nature defines as good for a thing of that type. Deliberately to choose actions that tend to fulfill one’s nature is to be morally good; deliberately to choose actions which tend to frustrate the ends definitive of our flourishing is to be morally bad.

    Now simply being born with some defect — a clubfoot, a predisposition to alcoholism, or whatever — is in no way to act immorally, because it is not an act at all. It is outside one’s control. But deliberately to act in a way that frustrates one’s flourishing (where what counts as “flourishing,” with us as with lions, is defined by the normal or paradigm case) — say by deliberately disfiguring oneself (other than as a way of saving the life of the whole organism, say) or by choosing to drink to excess when one knows this will become habit-forming — is immoral. (Obviously there are all sorts of complications and qualifications that the theory develops, but that’s the basic idea.)

    Now there can only be a “fact/value dichotomy” and a “naturalistic fallacy” if we assume that there really are no ends toward which things naturally tend to point, and no natures or essences that give things these ends. That is to say, there can be such a dichotomy only if there are no final causes and formal causes (to use the Aristotelian jargon). But of course, Aristotelians reject this denial of formal and final causes. That denial is definitive of modern philosophy, and so is the “fact/value dichotomy” — a dichotomy which does not exist given a classical (either Aristotelian or Platonic) metaphysics. Moderns tend to think of the natural world roughly on the model of the ancient atomists’ “atoms and the void” – meaningless stuff in motion, where the natures that define the macro level objects of our experience are somehow illusory and only the atoms themselves are “real.” Obviously contemporary writers would instead think in terms of modern physics rather than the simple older atomist picture, but the spirit of the views is the same.

    Now IF this sort of thing exhausted what is true of the natural world, then yes, there would be a naturalistic fallacy. But the Aristotelian denies that this is so. What physics and the other sciences reveal to us is true, but it is not the whole truth. Science is correct, but scientism is false. And if the scientistic (as opposed to scientific) view of the world were correct, not only natural law theory but all ethical value per se, and indeed, reason itself, would go by the board, for scientism pursued consistently leads to a radical eliminativism (as some naturalists — Alex Rosenberg is one — realize). And as I’ve said elsewhere in this thread, the Aristotelian would argue that this result is incoherent. But the correct view, the Aristotelian argues, is that modern science is only coherently interpreted within the context of an Aristotelian metaphysics. And once this metaphysics is in place, we see that there really is no “naturalsitic fallacy” after all.

    Again, see the book for much more. Or (for those who don’t like polemics and/or don’t like the implications all this has for sexual morality) see the article I link to in my recent reply to Eric MacDonald, or chapter 5 of my book Aquinas.

  133. Another Matt
    21 August 2011 at 19:13 | #133

    Similarly, even though the event of shattering may never in fact be actualized, the disposition (which in some way is actual, since the glass really does have it) cannot intelligibly be individuated without reference to the (as yet non-existent and maybe never existent) event of shattering.

    Again, I appreciate your comments.

    Does glass (or a match, or what have you) have any properties that aren’t dispositional? In this whole discussion it sounds like it would be productive to be able to separate the dispositional properties from the “plain old” properties, but I can’t see how to do it, and I’m not even convinced it’s an intelligible distinction in the frame you provided. I don’t see what is “extra” in a teleological description that isn’t there in a “plain old” description.

  134. Another Matt
    21 August 2011 at 19:18 | #134

    Is there a difference between a “device for flying” and “thing that flies?” Again, it just seems to be a matter of linguistic orientation in the description.

  135. rick longworth
    21 August 2011 at 20:15 | #135

    Not Patrick’s Law of Apologetics.

  136. Another Matt
    21 August 2011 at 20:30 | #136

    Again, see the book for much more. Or (for those who don’t like polemics and/or don’t like the implications all this has for sexual morality) see the article I link to in my recent reply to Eric MacDonald, or chapter 5 of my book Aquinas.

    And those of us who don’t like the implications all this has for the morality of handedness or eating packets of sweet’n low have other things to read, I trust.

  137. rick longworth
    21 August 2011 at 20:37 | #137

    Good point, Another Matt. It is difficult to see how the meager definition of teleology leads to such strange and copious conclusions as Feser seems to do. The distinction is minuscule unless you are willing to go all the way and propose God. I haven’t read the book, and I don’t think I will.

  138. 21 August 2011 at 21:24 | #138

    Andrew G. said:

    The nylonase enzyme shows that new functions can arise without any need for selection pressure or any “design-like” activities, and as a purely random physical occurrence it is clearly not intentional in any sense. More complex organs like kidneys are merely the end result of a hugely long chain of similar occurrences but where selection has been applied.

    That much of our language seems to impute purposes where none exist is simply a reflection of our well-understood cognitive biases – and because our language is what it is, we find it convenient to talk that way even though we do not actually intend to imply purposes.

    Actually, I don’t think this shows that functional explanation is arbitrary or imposed by our cognitive biases, it just shows why the definition of function which depends on the functional feature’s evolutionary history is a bad definition that no one who understands how evolution works should embrace.

    Before some bacteria which had produced the nylonase enzyme were exposed to an environment rich in nylon, the enzyme had no function. Or rather, it probably had some other function, some other enzymatic activity that it performed more or less adequately for the bacteria that had it, but its function was not digesting nylon. (NB: Note how misleading talk of “the” function of a feature of an organism is. The fact that one feature of an organism — an enzyme, for example — can have multiple different functions is not really a problem for either functional explanation in general or naturalized teleology in particular, but some people get confused by it and think it’s a problem somehow or other.) The nylonase enzyme had physical and chemical properties that gave it what are sometimes called causal powers, insofar as it was so constituted as to interact physiochemically in certain ways with other entities to which it is exposed — which causal powers, as it happens, included catalyzing the breakdown of nylon — but as you note, breaking down nylon could not intelligibly be said to be among its functions before the invention of nylon. But when the bacteria containing it are introduced to an environment where nylon is present, one of the causal powers that the enzyme has suddenly matters; having or lacking the genes to produce this enzyme is a difference between bacteria that makes a difference with respect to comparative reproductive success in this environment. Contribution to reproductive success in a given environment is where ALL functions come from when function is understood in the terms of evolution by natural selection, and if one uses the confused definition of function that relies on functionality being the product of a past process of selection, one cannot intelligibly explain how new functions arise. This basic flaw of the past-selection definition of function are well understood by most working biologists and philosophers of biology, so I can only see Feser’s choice to aim his criticisms of naturalized teleology at such a clearly mistaken and long-discredited definition of function as originating in either not knowing the subject all that well (I’ll admit that the literature is confusing here, but he really ought to have researched the subject better given the thrust of his arguments) or deliberately choosing a straw man to attack. Either way, I’m not impressed.

  139. 21 August 2011 at 21:43 | #139

    Another Matt,

    I know you’re being jocular, but just to be clear, the view does not imply that being either left-handed or eating Sweet n ‘Low is in any way morally problematic. Why would it?

    People often think that traditional natural law theory says “It’s wrong to act unnaturally,” full stop, and then have no trouble coming up with ridiculous counterexamples. But that just ignores what the theory actually says. “Natural” has a precise sense in natural law theory. It doesn’t mean “statistically common,” or “occurring in the wild,” or “in accordance with the laws of physics” or any other such thing. It means something like “consistent with the realization of the ends that define the good for a thing given its nature.” And natural law theory does not say that it is necessarily wrong to use one’s faculties in a way that is other than what they are for, given our nature. Rather, it says that it is wrong to use them in a way that is directly contrary to those ends in the sense of positively frustrating them. And even here there are qualifications. The theory is more complicated and subtle than the usual caricatures imply, and cannot be summed up in simplistic slogans like “don’t act against nature.”

    Hence (to respond to some common caricatures) the theory does not imply that eyeglasses are unnatural (why would they be? — they correct a defect or enhance a natural capacity, rather than frustrating it), or that eating artificially produced foods is unnatural (why would it be? It doesn’t frustrate us in realizing the ends that follow on our having the natures we do, and can even facilitate our doing so), or that foreplay of various sorts is unnatural (why would it be? — it certainly facilitates sexual intercourse). And so forth.

    Natural law moralists have addressed all this stuff in detail. What annoys me is not that people disagree with it. What annoys me is that people don’t bother to acquaint themselves with what defenders of theory actually say. They just focus on simplistic slogans — “Don’t act against nature,” or whatever — and attack those as if they constituted the entirely of the theory!

  140. 21 August 2011 at 21:51 | #140

    Whoops! Didn’t finish that thought. The point is that the more widely shared non-eliminative concept of how explanations of biological function are reducible to an ultimate causal explanations in terms natural selection is equivalent to saying function is an emergent property of evolution. An emergent property is one which is a consequence of other properties, but which also has explanatory and causal power in its own right. While there are a lot of complexities about what constitutes and emergent property and why, there is no confusion about this: Searle’s eliminative reductionism leaves no room for emergent properties. I think that Feser’s confusion or equivocation with respect to the distinctions between these very different conceptions of reduction is very closely tied to what Anne calls his inability to grok emergent properties and levels of description.

  141. Another Matt
    21 August 2011 at 22:24 | #141

    Yes, of course that was a deliberate attempt to razz you, and I apologize. I know that natural law theorists have filled volumes about this, but it shouldn’t come as a surprise that others might “quibble a little” with their assumptions, definitions, and conclusions, even if they’re charitable enough to grant the methodology. I have plenty to say about it but this is probably not the place, since I’ve already filled this thread too much as it is.

  142. GordonWillis
    21 August 2011 at 22:30 | #142

    I’ve been making notes as I waded through all this and it seems to have come to an awful lot. So apologies. I forbore to post anything at first because I am sure I am out of my depth. However, it may be useful, so here it is. You will see that much of what concerns me is the use of words.

    “Predictable regularity”. First, regularity is predictable by definition, so we can dispense with “predictable” and talk about regularity. Regularity is not “directedness”. It’s just regularity. I believe that there is a mistake here which is partly semantic (a matter of association of usage and meaning) and partly in our own regular tendency as social animals to look for intentions or “motives”. But if we rule out words like “directedness” (which suggests both direction and a director) and “disposition” (which confuses us with its suggestion of latent intention), we can manage perfectly well with regularity. Things do what they do because of underlying regularities. The problem then, is that the language we use pushes us towards an illegitimate mode of understanding, even though the use of certain words might be innocent in the first instance. It would be well worth experimenting to find a descriptive language which avoids words that carry teleological implications to see how successful it would be. I suggest that given our social bias we may well find it both difficult to do and uncomfortable in the outcome.

    To say “species survive” does not mean that animals have a final cause, which is “to survive”. All it actually means is, “they’ve been around for a while and they’re still here”, and evolutionary theory gives an account of how they come to be (still) here and how an ant has one shape and a jellyfish another. So “survival” is only an “end” for the purposes of scientific explanation. It isn’t an intrinsic end. To the extent that we might feel “but that doesn’t really explain anything” we look for purposes (for example, I could say that I have a strong desire to “survive” and I can see that ants and jellyfish behave as though they did too). But the question is: what do we mean by “explain”? I think it means that we are looking for regularity, and a means of grasping that regularity with minds that have evolved by the same regularities as everything else and are therefore both very limited in scope and highly restricted by the words we use to think with. So an “explanation” is a conceptualisation that we can live with that takes in the regularities we observe. It’s how we fit things into our picture of the world. It’s a matter of what works. So if saying that genes are “selfish” can have explanatory power in this sense, then it works for us even though it is not literally true. But just as a word like “selfish” has a habit of being absorbed by its metaphorical wrapping, so it is with other words, too. The metaphor ceases to be the vehicle and becomes the message.

    Glass: electrons and protons behave in such a way that you can get silica, and one thing that can happen with silica is glass, which is interesting but don’t sit on it. To say “glass has a disposition to shatter” is a (perhaps unintentionally) confusing way of saying “glass is brittle” and, while actually saying no more than that, it seems, to our social minds, to be implying something more. We can talk coherently about the state of things, and how they got into that state from whatever state came before, but it is misleading to describe it by saying that the state of something is directed towards some end. Better to say that everything comes about through regularity and is subject to the same regularities at all times. Glass is brittle because of the regularity of things, not that it has “shattering” as a potential end.

    There are restrictions on what is possible.

    “What is possible” means “there are restrictions”. “There are restrictions” means “there are regularities”. “Regularities” means “the nature of things”. “The nature of things” means “that’s just how it is”.

    But the purpose of camouflage is to hide the organism from its prey. Whether that was the original intention all along is irrelevant. If you agree that that is the purpose of camouflage, then we are just arguing semantics, because you have agreed that teleology is inherent in nature, and not just an imposition of our minds.

    What about saying that the effect of a certain kind of skin is to camouflage an animal from predators? I do not see how teleology is necessary for a coherent explanation (and note how you conflate “end” with “purpose” and how function and end have become hopelessly confused). The fact that we think teleologically (we are social animals and look for “motives”) causes us to use teleological explanations. We ask “why?” and look for causes in terms of “reasons” why you or I might do something. Geckos and glass get personified. But we only need an explanation that “works”.

    In other words, the idea is that a trait is selected for, because it does something to increase survival, and this usually involves a change in the function of some physical part, either in degree or kind.

    A trait is selected for = an animal that possesses it has reproduced and passed it on. The effect of the trait is to increase survival.
    Therefore, a trait is selected for = the trait does something to increase survival. It is not selected because it helps to increase survival, rather the two are the same thing. More simply, selection = survival. The effect of the trait is selection. The effect of reproduction is selection.

    If teleology is both an intrinsic part of nature and imposed by our minds by our mental categories,

    Whether teleology is an intrinsic part of nature is what we are discussing. That our minds impose it seems more certain, but this might be an emergent characteristic of our mental evolution as social animals, not an intrinsic property of matter.

    The “end” of sex. Supposing that we are rational beings with freedom of choice, we can exercise our rationality and freedom in finding new functions for things. For example, sex can be an expression of love, intimacy, affirmation, joie de vivre, the giving of pleasure, making someone happy, increasing or restoring trust, healing hurts. These are surely also goods. Ask our relatives, the bonobos. If evolution involves the selection/survival of traits, the trait of being inventive has been selected, as have passion and warmth and generosity. So has the trait of ordering other people’s lives: for example, deciding that if reproduction is what sex is for it ought not to be used for anything else. This sort of intolerant behaviour is a corruption of our evolved social skills. But of course, things do go wrong, and not all traits are adaptive.

  143. 21 August 2011 at 22:33 | #143

    Another Matt,

    People differ on that question. Some (not all) recent writers on dispositionalism would hold that all properties are dispositional. Others would not, and more traditional Aristotelians certainly would not. This is where the traditional Aristotelian distinction between “actuality” and “potentiality” comes in. (Contemporary analytic philosophers sometimes speak in terms of “categorical” versus “dispositional” properties, which is more or less the same thing.) The distinction was originally introduced in order to explain where thinkers like Parmenides, Zeno, and other defenders of a static view of reality go wrong. Those thinkers say true change is impossible because change would involve going from non-being or nothing to something, and from non-being or nothing, nothing can come. Aristotle’s response is to argue that this ignores the middle ground between absolute non-being or nothingness on the one hand and actuality on the other — that middle ground being potentiality. Hence we might say that a rubber ball is actually solid and in no way granite but it is at least potentially squishy (if you melt it). The presence in it of the potentiality or disposition for squishiness explains how the change from solidity to squishiness can in fact occur. It involves the actualization of potentiality.

    Now, potentiality or dispositionality must exist, then, for change and causation to exist. But potentiality by itself is just that — potentiality rather than actuality. And for something to be real is for it in some way to be actual rather than merely potential. Hence, the Aristotelian would say, potentialities must be grounded in actualities. Or, in other words, dispositions must be grounded in categorical properties. And the idea is that this is something we can see must be true as a result of metaphysical analysis, whether or not we can go on to identify specifically what the categorical properties are. Geometrical and spatio-temporal features would be among the examples sometimes given, though.

    When it comes to spelling out the nature of the categorical features of a thing in detail, the Aristotelian will proceed by defending the notion of essence or substantial form, which is a whole other topic. Now that’s something people sometimes like to claim was ruled out by modern science, but (the Aristotelian argues) that is not at all the case. That just confuses questions of physics and/or method with questions of metaphysics. Modern physics gets on well enough methodologically without notions like teleology and substantial form. But it simply doesn’t follow that that shows that there are no such things as teleology or substantial form. Indeed, as Bertrand Russell liked to emphasize, the methods of physics really only give us a description in terms of the abstract structure of the world. They do not tell us what it is that fleshes out that structure. But something must do so, otherwise physics would not give us knowledge of an objective, concrete reality but would be a mere abstraction.

    Russell’s answer was to look for the concrete and categorical features of the objective world in a modified notion of sense data — a view which is commonly thought to lead to a kind of idealism or panpsychism. Aristotelians would argue instead for a return to the notions of substance, substantial form, the four causes, etc. But however the problem is dealt with, it is a real problem, and one that in the nature of the case cannot be settled by further physics, precisely because it concerns the presuppositions of physics.

    This, by the way, is one reason I am so harsh on the New Atheists. Their scientism is something they are extremely confident about, but it is also extremely shallow — they do not know that there are problems with their position that can be addressed rationally, but only by the methods of philosophy rather than science. And they do not know that they do not know this. They shout “Courtier’s Reply” anytime someone wants to tell them. So, folks like me to tend to get testy with them. That’s only natural.

    Earlier secularists — like Bertrand Russell, like Wilfrid Sellars, and many others — knew that there were very serious philosophical issues here, and tried seriously to deal with them. I would urge readers here to consider this, and — whether or not they agree with my own views or care for my own tone in The Last Superstition — try, please, to address these issues more seriously than Dawkins, Myers, Coyne, et al. do.

  144. 21 August 2011 at 22:39 | #144

    Another Matt,

    No problem at all. Nothing wrong with a little razzing, and I am certainly the last person in the world who should claim otherwise!

  145. rick longworth
    21 August 2011 at 23:23 | #145

    Thanks Gordon. That was a breath of fresh air.

  146. Another Matt
    22 August 2011 at 00:05 | #146

    TPP, I’ve read this thrice through and I just wanted to say I think it’s the clearest thing in the thread. Thanks for taking the time to write it.

  147. Tim Harris
    22 August 2011 at 00:33 | #147

    “irritable”‘s comment runs from “It is worth pointing out that Feser…” to “the idea that everything in the world can actually be reduced analytically to its fundamental physical, or material, basis.”

    All that follows is a repetition of what I say just before quoting “irritable”, but with “illuminating” rightly corrected to “unilluminating”.

  148. Michael Fugate
    22 August 2011 at 00:49 | #148

    Think of natural selection as a sieve and organisms as soil particles. If you shake the sieve, some particles will pass through and some will be retained as determined by the particles’ sizes and shapes. No one would say that the function of the soil particles’ sizes and shapes is to pass through a sieve – would they? They are what they are whether they are sieved or not. Or in other words, evolution happens.

  149. Another Matt
    22 August 2011 at 01:45 | #149

    Prof. Feser,

    There’s a lot in your post and I won’t get to most of it, but I think I understand the issues enough to think about them for a while, and I appreciate your taking the time to explain. I did want to address this, though:

    That just confuses questions of physics and/or method with questions of metaphysics. Modern physics gets on well enough methodologically without notions like teleology and substantial form. But it simply doesn’t follow that that shows that there are no such things as teleology or substantial form. Indeed, as Bertrand Russell liked to emphasize, the methods of physics really only give us a description in terms of the abstract structure of the world. They do not tell us what it is that fleshes out that structure. But something must do so, otherwise physics would not give us knowledge of an objective, concrete reality but would be a mere abstraction.

    I don’t think this is quite justified through pure reason. The statement, “something must flesh out the abstract structure of physics” is as much metaphor as explicit proposition — it relies on intuitions about how to interpret “something” (leaving aside the more obvious “fleshing out” metaphor which could be replaced by a regular word). Meanwhile the word “mere,” as it so often does, has to do a whole lot of heavy lifting. I don’t think it’s nonsensical at all to suggest that “abstract structure” is all there is, or to put it another way, that “it’s form all the way down”; this would be the case if it turned out we were living in a grand simulation, for instance. But the “grand simulation” belief is the kind of belief that requires evidence for justification; it’s not something that can be reasoned for or against without at least an accompanying belief regarding the possibility of its falsification and a bit of evidence in its favor. So I don’t think the relationship between science and philosophy is quite the one-way street you suggest it is.

  150. DiscoveredJoys
    22 August 2011 at 04:17 | #150

    Good words. I have two points you may care to consider.

    The first one is a variant of English called E-Prime that excludes all forms of the verb ‘to be’. The idea being that the verb can be used in different ways which confuse meaning. see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eprime as a starter. I’ve tried recasting popular phrases in the theory of evolution in E-prime and it is tougher than it looks. It does expose the inferred teleology in all its nakedness though.

    Second one. As mentioned below it is sloppy thinking to say traits are selected for. While this may be true of sexual selection (because sentience is involved), in general traits are selected against, that is traits which are part of an organism with lower ‘fitness’ tend to be eliminated. Still no teleology though (even in sexual selection) – just iterations of blind processes as far as we can tell.

  151. jonjermey
    22 August 2011 at 06:30 | #151

    I am out of my depth here, but might it not be useful to think of a teleological explanation as a hypothetical engineering solution? Thus we can say that the heart has a form and a mode of operation that an engineer might have come up with — working within constraints — for a device to pump blood around the body. That doesn’t imply in any way that there was ever an entity with any such purpose, just that the results are in some ways similar to what we would expect if there were.

    And of course learning this fact conveys information. Knowing that something is a bit like an industrial pump allows us to distinguish it from things that are a bit like industrial filters, or a bit like computer RAM. It’s a quick and relatively easy way to identify and label particular organs, without any actual commitment to actual purpose or actual design.

    Naturally the same applies to animal behaviour: we can say ants (or wasps, or birds) behave in some ways, under certain constraints, in the way we would expect humans to behave if they wanted to survive, or wanted their children to survive. But I don’t see this in any way implies that these behaviours really have a purpose, any more than saying that a bird’s beak resembles a spoon implies that it was made in Sheffield by a cutlery manufacturer.

  152. dguller
    22 August 2011 at 07:18 | #152

    Rick:

    What is an “inner propensity”? Do rocks and billboard have inner propensities?

    I actually do not know enough about rocks to say what their ends might be. I think that if something is immobile, then perhaps its inner propensity would be to obey physical laws, for example.

    Inner, it seems to me, implies inward thoughts – ie. mental concerns. Does an electron have mental concerns?

    No.

  153. dguller
    22 August 2011 at 07:24 | #153

    Eric:

    Dmitry, why can’t we just speak of electrons as behaving in predictable ways? What does adding “pursue certain ends” add to our understanding of electrons?

    Because there is a difference between correlation and causation. If you believe in Hume’s account of causation, which is essentially all you would have left if you rejected final causes, then all you have is correlation. You just have one thing following another, and some things happening with more regularity than others. But this is just correlation. At no point can you ever say that one thing causes another.

    Incidentally, this is always why Hume’s account of causation leaves us with a problem of induction. If there is no nature that points and directs beings to behave in specific ways, then at present, there is nothing directing where a being’s behavior will lead in the future, and thus it is always an open question whether the behavior that we have observed an entity perform will continue. However, if you accept something like final causality, then you can be justified in making inductive inferences about future instances. Again, that is because of the directedness of the nature of an entity that points it in particular directions, and not in others.

  154. dguller
    22 August 2011 at 07:33 | #154

    Another Matt:

    So if this is the sense that “dispositional property” is meant, what kind of property is not dispositional? I don’t see what it gets you that saying plainly that something has a property or behaves in a certain way doesn’t.

    Because it carries the further implication that it will continue to behave so by virtue of its nature, which directs its behavior in a particular direction. If you just say that “stuff happens”, and there is nothing carrying on the regularity by directing the behavior of a being, then you are left with correlation, but not causation, and with a problem of induction, amongst other problems.

    Isn’t this just turning empirical induction on its head by positing classes or ranges of properties and behaviors (“stability,” say) and then looking for things that exhibit them, instead of applying names to patterns of property or behavior in observation that appear often enough to warrant a label? It seems to me a leap to claim that the ability to apply a label to a pattern of behavior says something profound about the world.

    I think that it just says that when we have observed certain regularities, then we may have discovered something about the nature of what we are observing, and that its nature is such that it directs the being to behave in the ways that it does. Otherwise, it just does what it does, which I think you will agree is not helpful at all, and is quite tautological. In addition, it is not how scientists actually operate. They do not say that the conservation of mass and energy is just a probabilistic phenomenon that they have observed in most cases. They describe it as a law of nature, and not a statistically significant correlation. Unfortunately, the latter is all that you are left with if you reject final causes altogether.

  155. dguller
    22 August 2011 at 07:43 | #155

    RH:

    As is pointed out over and over, the problem is that, as it concerns the heart or any other biological feature, we apprehend many more patterns than the ones you arbitrarily selecting. We observe that hearts not only pump blood, bit they grow in size, shrivel, harden, burst, in.every single case the heart cells ultimately die, and become door for other organisms etc. These are all descriptions of patterns we observe when observing human hearts.

    I suppose that it would be a matter of how one chooses to categorize those behaviors. All organs composed of cells grow and eventually die, and some do shrivel, harden, and burst secondary to disease or malfunction. That is all relevant to the nature and behavior of biological organs composed of cells. And since the heart is such an organ, it follows that it would share these properties, of course.

    However, the heart also has a property that no other organ has, and which is actually essential to the ongoing living of the organism that has a heart, such that if its function fails, then the organism can no longer live, and that function is to pump blood through the circulatory system.

    So, that is one way to determine what the function of an entity is, i.e. by comparing it to other similar entities, and determining its unique function relative to the others.

    This is also depends upon the perspective that one brings to the analysis. For example, if one was looking just at the heart itself, then its function is to pump; if one was looking at the organism as a whole, then its function is to pump blood through the circulatory system; if one was looking at a group of beings, then the heart’s function might partially be to maintain the strength of the group; and if one was looking at the galaxy, then the heart does not seem to have an important function at all.

  156. 22 August 2011 at 07:47 | #156

    I don’t see the problem with the problem of induction. Of course, it’s always a question whether a causes b. That’s why science is needed, to sort out what “really” causes b (and science could and has been wrong). And sometimes the answer is quite surprising. But so long as we have conjunction constant enough between two events, then we have (at least a conditional) confirmation that one causes the other. We don’t need to talk about “unconscious” propensities, nor do we need to think of nature as a whole as having purposes or inclinations, however unconscious. This just seems to me a huge metaphysical superstructure without anything to do, and held to be there because we think about things in “this for the purpose of that” sorts of ways.

  157. dguller
    22 August 2011 at 07:49 | #157

    I know, man. I have an iPad, as well, but I just gave up typing anything long on it, and use my MacBook instead. :P

  158. dguller
    22 August 2011 at 08:18 | #158

    Steve:

    You’re still acting as if it makes sense to use your definition of “function” (whatever it is) to evaluate whether or not someone else’s definition of “function” is absurd. What you are doing may seem like it makes sense, because it may seem like informally discussing “function” with any old definition is in the same realm of discourse as formally discussing “function” with a specific definition, but in fact it makes no sense. It would be just as nonsensical for you to declare that the mathematical definition of “function” is absurd because it implies that for a wing to have a function it must map inputs from a domain onto values from a range.

    Agreed. But I can say that the definition of “function” leads to absurd conclusions. In mathematics, it does not, but in the definition of “function” that Feser cited, it does. Certainly, people have said that Feser’s definition of “function” leads to absurdities, such as that all entities that exhibit goal-directed behavior must have a mind, which is absurd. So, I see nothing wrong with criticizing a definition if its own meaning leads to absurd conclusions, independent of other possible definitions, which may have the benefit of avoiding such absurdities.

    I am curious about an apparent shift in what you mean by “function” when you say that the formal definition we’re discussing entails that “prior to Darwin, we had no idea what the heart did, or what legs do, or what wings do, and so on”. I actually agree that such an entailment would be absurd, but in fact I can’t see any conflict between the formal non-teleological definition of “function” and the idea that we might know what hearts, legs, and wings do. Hearts grow, beat, pump blood, and other things, legs grow, support bodies, move around, and other things, wings grow, beat, often provide lift, and other things. We can certainly observe those things, no matter how “function” is defined. But if you want to say that to pump blood is the function of the heart, well, it’s pretty clear that you want to say something more than just “this is what hearts are observed to do”.

    That’s right. I would ideally want to say what it is that hearts do that sets them apart from other biological organs in biological organisms. And from the standpoint of biological organisms with circulatory systems, the heart’s function is to pump blood through the circulatory system. And this is not just some incidental thing to the heart, but is absolutely essential to it. In fact, it is so essential that if the heart stops pumping, then the organism typically dies without some form of artificial pumping.

    Saying that “hearts are for pumping blood” may even feel like it contains some kind of explanation of the existence and properties of the heart, but without some indication of what it means to say that something is “for” something else, it’s really no explanation at all. Saying that “hearts are directed towards pumping blood” doesn’t provide an explanation either, because it’s not at all obvious how that might work nor how you could find that out.

    But it does provide an explanation, but perhaps not the kind of explanation that you would prefer. Aristotle would have said that any explanation must include final causes, or the ends for which an entity is directed towards. So, it depends upon what you mean by “explanation” here.

    On the other hand, one can provide an explanation for the existence and properties of the heart without using the words “for” or “function” at all; for example: “animals which had muscles which were dedicated to ensuring that blood was reliably distributed throughout their bodies were able to grow larger and stay healthier than their conspecifics who did not have such dedicated muscles, and so their frequency in the population increased”.

    That was a noble effort, except for the inclusion of “dedicated to ensuring that”, which implies an end or goal that the heart’s behavior is supposed to fulfill.

    The bottom line is that for a trait to increase survival, then that trait must do something to increase survival, and that would have to be a novel function that gives it that advantage, such as being able to metabolize nutrients in the environment that other organisms cannot, for example. Without any inclusion of such an explanation, then evolution is just an empty theory, which says that “species survive, because they do stuff that helps them survive, but don’t ask us what, because we’re not allowed to say”. Since evolutionary biologists are always looking for such explanations signifies to me that they are essential to evolution, and that the only reason to avoid them is due to some prior philosophical and (a)theological fears.

    Obviously, you could – with actual research – discover a great number of different heart-related genes which were more beneficial to their carriers than their alleles, and thus you could acquire explanations for many aspects of what the heart does and how it does it. You could even discover – quite possibly – that some attributes of the heart were the result of neutral drift, and therefore had no explanation beyond chance, which would also be interesting. What’s important to note, however, is that the entire chain of explanation comprises observations of what hearts do and have done, not claims about what hearts are or have been for.

    What X is for necessarily must involve what X does (or could do), and not everything that X does (or could do) is what X is for. And certainly what X is for can change as circumstances change, and what X is for depends upon one’s level of analysis.

    I would say that what X is for can only be determined by comparing it to similar entities in the same general category, and figuring out what X does differently and uniquely, and that would be what X is for.

    The heart is a biological organ that differs from other biological organs by pumping blood. That would be its function or purpose. All the other behaviors that it shares with other cellular organs would be the functions of cellular organs, but not the heart specifically.

    Also, you seem to think that by accepting an Aristotelian framework of explanations that somehow this will forestall scientific research into the deeper explanations of how things work in nature. This is exactly backwards, I think, because by assuming that there is something about entities that directs their behavior in certain ways would help direct researchers to study the entities in question to try to figure out why.

    Any thoughts?

  159. GordonWillis
    22 August 2011 at 08:49 | #159

    Thanks to rick, Discovered Joys and irritable for positive and useful comments. I would like to reply briefly to irritable, and then I have to disappear for some hours. I hope to be back later.

    I don’t think it is fair to say that Feser is trolling. I think he genuinely believes in what he says and he feels a tremendous urgency to counter a way of looking at the world that he thinks has pernicious consequences. I also think he has been making serious attempts here to contribute to a real dialogue. So I accept that in his haste he will come across as rather unpleasant and will miss a number of things. I just think that he is wrong, and that there is much in his own view which in fact is very destructive of sober attempts by people who wish to learn how to get on with each other without constantly anathematising and condemning. I think that building a tolerant and nurturing society is more important than fighting over our various conceptions of ultimate truth. Or, to put it personally, the well-being of my daughter and my students and all the others I care about has to come before we can sit down comfortably together and thrash out philosophical problems that we are probably incapable of ever resolving. I am sick of religious and ideologues who feel it their duty to lay down the law for the whole world. I think we need to work from the bottom up. Maybe in doing so we’ll discover something new. Sorry, have to go. I’ve been enjoying this discussion. Thanks to everybody.

  160. Another Matt
    22 August 2011 at 09:03 | #160

    “Because there is a difference between correlation and causation. If you believe in Hume’s account of causation, which is essentially all you would have left if you rejected final causes, then all you have is correlation.”

    Forgive me, for I haven’t been doing this long enough to be sure about what I’m about to say, but my problem with this line of reasoning is that while it’s true to say that correlation does not imply causation, I’m not at all convinced that “final cause” implies causation. It sounds like a ruse to me.

    “If you just say that “stuff happens”, and there is nothing carrying on the regularity by directing the behavior of a being, then you are left with correlation, but not causation, and with a problem of induction, amongst other problems.”

    This is what I’m talking about. You speak as though if we don’t believe in Aristotelian teleology we should be in constant terror that electrons could spin off and become godzilla. But it’s also a mistake to think of an electron as a little nugget of matter whizzing through space (I have it on good authority that electrons are purple and they smell like glue!). No; at this level of observation, the label “electron” refers to a certain kind of behavior, not a chunk of stuff. Evidence of an electron is just evidence of behavior – if it didn’t behave that way “it” wouldn’t be an electron. In other words, there are no “broken electrons” in the way that we might mean when we say “broken camera” or “broken lioness.” When a neutron undergoes beta decay it “emits” an electron, leaving a proton; but we use the word “emit” rather than to say that an electron “sloughs off” or some such, because it’s a mistake to think of a neutron as a proton and electron holding hands and spinning about a merry-go-round (or three quarks doing the same). Etc. At this level we only seem to know about interacting behaviors, and not very much else at all.

    The problem is that our intuitions about ordinary things don’t extend this far down, such that any talk of subatomic particles will be way more theory-laden than talk of cups and candy. We speak of the behavior of an electron and our intuitions scream But what is it MADE of? — but this might not even turn out to be an intelligible question. It could just be patterns of behavior all the way down. Invoking a final cause as “the thing which keeps electrons behaving like electrons according to their nature” is so much extra baggage. You’re taking the problem of induction as an ontological threat rather than the epistemological thorn it is, and I don’t see what it gets you in the end. The sun might not come up tomorrow — the induction problem says so — but to dismiss the problem by saying that the sun comes up because the earth is working according to its teleological nature doesn’t help you in the slightest — you could still be wrong about the final cause and the sun could fail to rise. As far as I can see there’s no extra predictive power in a final cause, it just helps you sleep better at night.

  161. dguller
    22 August 2011 at 09:43 | #161

    GordonWillis:

    First, regularity is predictable by definition, so we can dispense with “predictable” and talk about regularity.

    Good point.

    Regularity is not “directedness”. It’s just regularity. I believe that there is a mistake here which is partly semantic (a matter of association of usage and meaning) and partly in our own regular tendency as social animals to look for intentions or “motives”. But if we rule out words like “directedness” (which suggests both direction and a director) and “disposition” (which confuses us with its suggestion of latent intention), we can manage perfectly well with regularity. Things do what they do because of underlying regularities.

    I would respond that correlation is not causation, although causation does involve correlation of a particular type. Correlation would occur when two events happen often in conjunction with one another, such as night following the day, but we do not say that the night causes the day. Causation would involve not only correlation and regularity, but a particular type of regularity in which there is some kind of mechanism connecting the antecedent and consequent events, and I think would involve some directedness from the antecedent towards the consequent events, which an Aristotelian would call a “final cause”.

    To say “species survive” does not mean that animals have a final cause, which is “to survive”. All it actually means is, “they’ve been around for a while and they’re still here”, and evolutionary theory gives an account of how they come to be (still) here and how an ant has one shape and a jellyfish another. So “survival” is only an “end” for the purposes of scientific explanation. It isn’t an intrinsic end.

    But if you actually look at the biological machinery of living organisms, then you will see that they are all geared towards the preservation of survival. They have a boundary between their interior and the external world, and they guard that boundary to minimize the risk of toxic substances entering the interior and causing damage. They also guard their interiors with an immune system to identify and destroy invaders. They have power plants (i.e. mitochondria) that generate the energy needed to survive. They have waste disposal units (i.e. liver, kidneys, and GI tract) to eliminate unwanted substances. They have a mechanism to allow nutrition to enter their internal milieu, and to transmit those nutrients throughout their organism.

    I mean, it is a stretch to say that this complex organism who has a number of subcomponents that clearly have identifiable roles that we can scientifically study is not making an enormous effort to stay alive. After all, it is easier to allow entropy to occur, and just deteriorate and die, and it takes effort and energy to retain the type of internal organization and structure that is essential to life. What is the point of all of this effort if not to stay alive, and why is it so objectionable to say that this is an objective fact, independent of our psychological preferences? Sure, it may be an accident of evolution that such an organizational structure has evolved, but now that it is here, it is quite clear that preservation and sustenance is the purpose.

    Glass: electrons and protons behave in such a way that you can get silica, and one thing that can happen with silica is glass, which is interesting but don’t sit on it. To say “glass has a disposition to shatter” is a (perhaps unintentionally) confusing way of saying “glass is brittle” and, while actually saying no more than that, it seems, to our social minds, to be implying something more.

    The idea is that the glass’s brittleness is not a reality in the same way that its translucence is. The brittleness is a potential that has not been actualized, whereas its translucence is actualized by virtue of the ability of photons to transmit through the glass. So, a disposition is about potential, and a potential is always a potential for some specific outcome, and this is all the directionality is supposed to refer to, i.e. the limited range of possible outcomes that an entity is disposed to actualize. That is all that is supposed to be meant, I think.

    We can talk coherently about the state of things, and how they got into that state from whatever state came before, but it is misleading to describe it by saying that the state of something is directed towards some end. Better to say that everything comes about through regularity and is subject to the same regularities at all times. Glass is brittle because of the regularity of things, not that it has “shattering” as a potential end.

    But regularity is supposed to be indicative of an expected pattern. Let us say that we have observed a regularity where A is followed by B, and let us say that we are now confronted with A. We know that A has the potential to lead to B, but this potential has not been actualized yet. We also know that all potential is potential for specific outcomes, but not others, and this involves a direction towards those specific outcomes, in this case towards B. It goes without saying that there does not have to be a director overseeing this process at all, and it is immanent within the nature of A that it has B as an end, when A happens.

    When you say that it is all regularity, then you are already helping yourself to teleology. Every pattern points towards its repetition, given the opportunity, and remember that is all that teleology is fundamentally about, i.e. something pointing beyond itself towards something else, whether an eventual end or purpose, or a referent for a symbol or sign. And in the present moment, when we are confronted with A, A points towards B as the next step, which we can call an end or goal or whatever, but the issue is not the terms that we use, but about the underlying phenomenon that the terms are supposed to refer to. And it seems clear to me, and I struggled against this idea at first, believe me, that we cannot deny that there is such a directedness towards something not present that is an inherent part of nature.

    “What is possible” means “there are restrictions”. “There are restrictions” means “there are regularities”. “Regularities” means “the nature of things”. “The nature of things” means “that’s just how it is”.

    And “just how it is” is that currently existing things point beyond themselves to something else that is not present, and this is the directedness that facilitates goal-directed behavior, and all patterns, in fact.

    What about saying that the effect of a certain kind of skin is to camouflage an animal from predators?

    Sure, one could say that, but then you still have the fact that a certain kind of skin points beyond itself towards the effect of improving its survival by camouflaging the animal from predators. And that is teleology, according to Feser. After all, that skin has a disposition to protect the animal, which is not always actualized, such as when there are no predators around. It is only when there are predators around that its potential for protection becomes actualized. And Feser’s point is that when the disposition is potential, then it is ultimately teleological in the sense that its potential is for protection.

    A trait is selected for = an animal that possesses it has reproduced and passed it on. The effect of the trait is to increase survival.
    Therefore, a trait is selected for = the trait does something to increase survival. It is not selected because it helps to increase survival, rather the two are the same thing. More simply, selection = survival. The effect of the trait is selection. The effect of reproduction is selection.

    That is right. A trait which increases survival is selected for = an animal that possesses a trait that increases survival increases its reproduction and passed it on. Selection just means the increase of a trait in a population because of its contribution to increased fitness to survive in an environment. The linchpin of this entire account that saves it from being a tautology is that the trait must increase survival in order for the whole show to get going. And how does a trait increase survival? It typically does so by allowing the organism to assume a novel function that its competitors lack, such as increased metabolism, increased speed, increased length of limbs, improved vision, and so on.

    Whether teleology is an intrinsic part of nature is what we are discussing. That our minds impose it seems more certain, but this might be an emergent characteristic of our mental evolution as social animals, not an intrinsic property of matter.

    There are a number of issues here.

    First, just because our minds are inherently involved in the detection of patterns in nature does not mean that they necessarily create them. Otherwise, there would be no way to determine whether our pattern-detecting capacity has resulted in a true positive or a false positive, because it is all just in our heads.

    Second, if all talk of biological entities doing things to actualize certain ends is essentially a projection of our psychology, then none of it is actually happening in nature. That means that when we talk about the immune system identifying pathogens and destroying them to preserve the life of the organism, then none of this is really happening. After all, white blood cells do not “identify”, because that implies that they are consciously seeking pathogens, and they do not “preserve the life of the organism”, because that implies some kind of purpose or goal. All we can say is that white blood cells bind to the surface of pathogens through receptor mediation, inject a toxic substance into the pathogen, which results in its destruction. Why is this important and significant to an organism? We cannot say, except that this has improved survival, even though we cannot even say this, because that implies that the end or purpose of all this immune activity is to improve survival, which is a no-no. That is why Feser says that most biology will have to be chucked out the window if this account is correct.

    I look forward to your comments, and thanks for the stimulating discussion.

  162. rick longworth
    22 August 2011 at 10:26 | #162

    My thoughts exactly, irritable. I can understand your irritability. Thats what I was thinking when said, more or less, it is perverse to think that evolution is goal-directed activity. But, at the same time, it is a lesson for many of us of a scientific frame of mind, that philosophy and metaphysics are domains that can open a can of worms any day of the week. And it might take a week to put the top back on.

  163. rick longworth
    22 August 2011 at 10:37 | #163

    Michael, this is the common sense view. I like it, myself, but others with an idealist mind set are somehow feel threatened by it. They are willing to create a labyrinth through which to perform mental gymnastics (mixed metaphor intentional) rather than accept that we should be guided by constrained language, strait forward logic, and evidence. I bet Aquinas was a great guy at a party with a drink in his hand. 8-)

  164. 22 August 2011 at 10:53 | #164

    It’s so curious to see some people taqlk about “function”, and other about “regularity”, while only one other poster has brought up “capability”. The heart gives the body teh capability to have circulating blood. The frame-shft mutation gave teh bacteria the capability to digest nylon. Capabilities can be environmentally helpful or not, retained for not. They are not function, and have no teleological component. However, they are not mere regularities, either. Any use ofteleological language in biology seems to best fit under the notion of capability, not function.

  165. DiscoveredJoys
    22 August 2011 at 11:46 | #165

    What is the point of all of this effort if not to stay alive, and why is it so objectionable to say that this is an objective fact, independent of our psychological preferences?

    Organisms descend from earlier generations of organisms that survived. This is part of the theory of evolution which (I hope) is not disputed. Organisms strive to survive (see Spinoza and ‘conatus’). But the naturalistic argument is that the processes are blind. The moment you ask ‘What is the point of all this effort?’ you are again introducing personal values of purpose and final causes that have not been objectively observed. Nor are they needed to explain what we see around us.

    So, a disposition is about potential, and a potential is always a potential for some specific outcome, and this is all the directionality is supposed to refer to, i.e. the limited range of possible outcomes that an entity is disposed to actualize.

    As I’ve said earlier using phrases like ‘function for’ and ‘potential for’ is just sneaking in your inference of teleology to your observations. Unless, of course, you can provide some concept of what ‘final causes’ are, and how they work in nature.

    Now if you care to argue that a sense of purpose helps people to live well, I would agree. I just don’t think purpose exists outside the stories we tell ourselves.

  166. dguller
    22 August 2011 at 12:06 | #166

    Another Matt:

    Forgive me, for I haven’t been doing this long enough to be sure about what I’m about to say, but my problem with this line of reasoning is that while it’s true to say that correlation does not imply causation, I’m not at all convinced that “final cause” implies causation. It sounds like a ruse to me.

    It’s more like in order to have causation at all, then you must have a directedness to the process, otherwise it is entirely random and unpredictable. When you say that A causes B, you are implying that when A is present, then A points towards the inevitable presence of B in a period of time, even though B is not present at all at the time. And that is all that teleology is supposed to involve. No conscious supervision of the process. No conscious intent on the part of the unconscious entities that are following causal patterns. Just the inherent tendency within all beings to point beyond themselves towards possible outcomes that they can actualize, if given the opportunity.

    And if you deny this, then when you are confronted with A, then you are stuck with A, and nothing else. You cannot say that A will lead to B, because A stands as a distinct event that does not point beyond itself to anything else, and thus you cannot even say that B will happen. Of course, you could say that the mind projects onto A the fact that it often leads to B, but then causation itself becomes a psychological quirk of the human mind, and not an objective feature of reality. That means that when no-one is observing A, it does not inherently point towards B as the next step in the causal sequence, and so one is left with the mystery as to how A can reliably and consistently result in B, especially if A essentially stares into an empty void of nothingness without any momentum or direction at all into any specific outcome.

    This is what I’m talking about. You speak as though if we don’t believe in Aristotelian teleology we should be in constant terror that electrons could spin off and become godzilla. But it’s also a mistake to think of an electron as a little nugget of matter whizzing through space (I have it on good authority that electrons are purple and they smell like glue!). No; at this level of observation, the label “electron” refers to a certain kind of behavior, not a chunk of stuff. Evidence of an electron is just evidence of behavior – if it didn’t behave that way “it” wouldn’t be an electron. In other words, there are no “broken electrons” in the way that we might mean when we say “broken camera” or “broken lioness.” When a neutron undergoes beta decay it “emits” an electron, leaving a proton; but we use the word “emit” rather than to say that an electron “sloughs off” or some such, because it’s a mistake to think of a neutron as a proton and electron holding hands and spinning about a merry-go-round (or three quarks doing the same). Etc. At this level we only seem to know about interacting behaviors, and not very much else at all.

    First, I find it strange to think that an electron is “not a chunk of stuff”, because it has mass, energy, angular momentum, spin, and so on, all of which we typically think of as properties that “stuff” has.

    Second, if an electron is “a certain kind of behavior”, then what exactly is doing the behaving?

    Third, you seem to be perilously close to Aristotle’s idea of “form”.

    Fourth, we can still describe these subatomic entities as having well-defined capabilities and dispositions to behave in particular ways, but not others.

    The problem is that our intuitions about ordinary things don’t extend this far down, such that any talk of subatomic particles will be way more theory-laden than talk of cups and candy. We speak of the behavior of an electron and our intuitions scream But what is it MADE of? — but this might not even turn out to be an intelligible question. It could just be patterns of behavior all the way down. Invoking a final cause as “the thing which keeps electrons behaving like electrons according to their nature” is so much extra baggage.

    I agree with you about how our intuitions fail us at the quantum level, and that all we really know is that there is a form of mathematics that seems to predict subatomic behavior to an incredibly high degree of accuracy. But no-one can really picture what is happening at that level, because it is just too bizarre. However, to say that it follows from this that electrons are not made of matter that has a particular form that defines its nature and its subsequent behavior is not necessary at all. The final cause is intrinsically related to the formal cause, because what a thing is necessarily involves what it does, and that involves what its behavior is directed towards.

    You’re taking the problem of induction as an ontological threat rather than the epistemological thorn it is, and I don’t see what it gets you in the end. The sun might not come up tomorrow — the induction problem says so — but to dismiss the problem by saying that the sun comes up because the earth is working according to its teleological nature doesn’t help you in the slightest — you could still be wrong about the final cause and the sun could fail to rise. As far as I can see there’s no extra predictive power in a final cause, it just helps you sleep better at night

    The problem of induction is only a problem, because of ontological claims that Hume made such that anything that we cannot empirically experience cannot possibly exist. That is why there cannot be a necessary connection between cause and effect, because all we observe are events, and never the connections between events. So, it is not just that we are limited by our cognitive capacities and our temporal placement, but rather that reality is such that the non-empirical is the non-existent.

    The advantage to Aristotle’s ideas is that they include a more rich set of resources that avoids this dilemma entirely. That does not mean that all our inductive inferences are correct, because our reasoning can go astray, but it does mean that our inductive inferences are trying to track the likelihood of a current event resulting in a future event by identifying where it is pointing to by virtue of our past experience of it. It is this framework that I find quite helpful to avoid many modern philosophical puzzles, such as how causality is even possible, and how inductive inference is rational, and so on. That, in and of itself, is something in its favor, whether it adds “predictive power”. It makes our very capacity to predict anything coherent, I think, and without it.

  167. dguller
    22 August 2011 at 12:27 | #167

    DJ:

    Organisms descend from earlier generations of organisms that survived. This is part of the theory of evolution which (I hope) is not disputed. Organisms strive to survive (see Spinoza and ‘conatus’). But the naturalistic argument is that the processes are blind. The moment you ask ‘What is the point of all this effort?’ you are again introducing personal values of purpose and final causes that have not been objectively observed. Nor are they needed to explain what we see around us.

    I think that we need to clarify what we mean by “blind process”. There is a difference between a process that operates in order to fulfill local ends, but is blind to the long-term consequences of fulfilling those ends, and a process that is blind even to local ends. For example, you agree that organisms behave in order to survive, which I think would count as a local end. Certainly, this local end, combined with limited resources and subsequent competition, plus differential changes in heritable traits that each contribute or inhibit the organism’s capacity to survive, will ultimately result in the complex organisms that we see all around us today, even if that complexity and richness was not part of the original end of the evolutionary process. So, I would agree with you that evolution is blind in the sense that it has no long-term ends, but it is certainly operating on a local level upon various immediate ends and unconsciously exploiting them to improve survival, amongst other possible ends.

    As I’ve said earlier using phrases like ‘function for’ and ‘potential for’ is just sneaking in your inference of teleology to your observations. Unless, of course, you can provide some concept of what ‘final causes’ are, and how they work in nature.

    The final cause is just that which an entity is directed towards as an end, and they work by being part of the nature of natural entities. They are, I think, an essential part of the framework from which understanding is even possible, because to deny such final causes means that it is possible for a rabbit to develop into a lion, and for a bowling ball to strike a pane of glass, and it not shatter, and so on. These are ridiculous and impossible outcomes, because they violate the nature of rabbits and glass, which is essentially about delimiting the possible outcomes that these entities can be directed towards completing or fulfilling. This is the way that science is always done, and it does not mean that there is a divine overseer that is supplying all the purpose in nature. That is a separate issue altogether.

  168. 22 August 2011 at 12:34 | #168

    Thank you Gordon. Irritable’s note got through, although I had rejected a number that did not seem to me to contribute very much to the discussion. While I think that Dr. Feser is simply wrong, he has been welcomed here, and is welcome to comment here, as he has done, and it would be unfair for us to say that he is trolling. I am going to delete this note of Irritable’s for that reason. It does not seem to me to contribute, as it should, to an ongoing conversation, from which, for the time being, I have bowed out.

  169. dguller
    22 August 2011 at 12:47 | #169

    Eric:

    I don’t see the problem with the problem of induction. Of course, it’s always a question whether a causes b. That’s why science is needed, to sort out what “really” causes b (and science could and has been wrong). And sometimes the answer is quite surprising. But so long as we have conjunction constant enough between two events, then we have (at least a conditional) confirmation that one causes the other. We don’t need to talk about “unconscious” propensities, nor do we need to think of nature as a whole as having purposes or inclinations, however unconscious. This just seems to me a huge metaphysical superstructure without anything to do, and held to be there because we think about things in “this for the purpose of that” sorts of ways.

    First, induction is a huge problem if you buy into Hume’s empirical framework, and it completely undermines the possibility of empirical knowledge at all. This was such a problem that it led to Kant’s crisis, and led him to propose his transcendental idealism as a possible solution. So, it is not that Hume’s framework makes scientific inferences difficult, but rather impossible, because science is supposed to discover the laws of nature, which are supposed to be woven into the very fabric of reality, and operative beneath the surface of our observations, guiding them along predictable pathways that we can exploit for our practical well-being. If you deny the existence of anything non-empirical, then you have denied the existence of laws of nature, because we never experience them, but only isolated events in our experience.

    Second, you rob yourself of any way to differentiate between mere correlation and actual causation. And correlation is not good enough for physics, for example, which happens to include iron-clad rules that do not admit of any exception, such as conservation of mass and energy. This is not just a statistical probability that has a high likelihood of being correct, but a necessary limit upon what is possible in the real world, and it was not just derived from multiple experiments, but also from careful reasoning from first principles, I believe.

    Third, if your fear of theism has the result that you deny any possible directedness in the natural world, then I think that is a far too high price to pay. It is clear that the law-like regularity of the natural world is indicative of the fact that natural entities operate according to specific possible outcomes, and whatever you want to call this phenomenon, it is one that permeates the natural world. Whether we are always correct in our discovery of these directed processes is not the issue, because we can always be wrong about such things. However, that does not change the fact that events in nature point beyond themselves towards the fulfillment of certain outcomes, even when those outcomes are not present at all, and remain only potentialities.

    I think that a lot of our disagreement is not about the underlying phenomenon in question, which is the rule-like behavior of beings, but about how to talk about it. I can appreciate your worry that including words that have the possible implication of a divine intellect guiding the processes requires that are very cautious, but I worry that you have thrown the baby out with the bathwater in this case by denying any directionality at all in nature. The fact that when two billiard balls strike, then only one possible outcome can result, even before it has happened, is true whether consciousness is involved in any step. The collision heads in a particular direction, and that direction is not present during the collision, but emerges afterwards in a rule-governed way. And it is something about the billiard balls and the environment in which they interact that is the source of this directedness, not God or consciousness. Aristotle would call it their natures, but you can call it whatever you want, as long as you recognize that there is something about beings that directs them to behave in particular ways, and not others, and that this results in regular and predictable law-like behavior that we can discover through scientific inquiry.

  170. 22 August 2011 at 13:09 | #170

    DiscoveredJoys responding to dguller:

    What is the point of all of this effort if not to stay alive, and why is it so objectionable to say that this is an objective fact, independent of our psychological preferences?

    Organisms descend from earlier generations of organisms that survived. This is part of the theory of evolution which (I hope) is not disputed. Organisms strive to survive (see Spinoza and ‘conatus’).

    The reason that it is objectionable to say that it is “an objective fact” that “organisms strive to survive” is that it elevates a contingent (and often false) observation to the level of “Cause” with a capital “C”.

    Organisms are complex systems that have been assembled by evolution as mechanisms for the replication of information. No purpose of cause is involved: informations systems that replicate themselves successfully will inevitably form the raw materials for subsequent replicators; those that don’t, won’t. Along the way, various behaviors/mechanisms have evolved which have been incorporated as reusable building blocks for these systems. Among them are capabilities for distinguishing self from other, which is useful when identifying potential food sources(!), and a variety of self-preserving behaviors, such as hiding or freezing which certain environmental signals are detected.

    However these mechanisms are simply selected for because they enhance reproduction, and their expression is contingent, not absolute. Organisms will frequently engage in behaviors which lead to injury or death, usually as part of reproduction (think trout), protecting offspring, or redistributing available food.

    So “Organisms strive to survive” is a shorthand description of a cluster of behaviors and mechanisms which some organisms exhibit sometimes. It is not “independent of our psychological preferences” because we have chosen to pick out these particular behaviors and mechanisms and label them, using language which obscures the fact that they are demonstrably contingent and far from universal.

  171. Steersman
    22 August 2011 at 13:19 | #171

    And even St. Augustine – at least in his youth – knew that one does not live by abstractions and theory alone as he reportedly said, “Make me chaste Lord – but not yet”. :-)

    But, in passing and relative to your mixed metaphor, I think it is obvious that there are a great many things or ideas that can be “counter-intuitive” but still be true and have some substantial utility – quantum mechanics probably being a paradigmatic example.

  172. dguller
    22 August 2011 at 13:29 | #172

    Geoff:

    Organisms are complex systems that have been assembled by evolution as mechanisms for the replication of information. No purpose of cause is involved: informations systems that replicate themselves successfully will inevitably form the raw materials for subsequent replicators; those that don’t, won’t. Along the way, various behaviors/mechanisms have evolved which have been incorporated as reusable building blocks for these systems. Among them are capabilities for distinguishing self from other, which is useful when identifying potential food sources(!), and a variety of self-preserving behaviors, such as hiding or freezing which certain environmental signals are detected

    So, organisms evolved for the replication of information. Is this an objective fact, or just an arbitrary selection of the human mind? And what about when they are not replicating, but only have the potential to replicate? Would you say that even though they are not replicating in that moment that they point towards the actualization of that potential, if given the opportunity?

    So “Organisms strive to survive” is a shorthand description of a cluster of behaviors and mechanisms which some organisms exhibit sometimes. It is not “independent of our psychological preferences” because we have chosen to pick out these particular behaviors and mechanisms and label them, using language which obscures the fact that they are demonstrably contingent and far from universal

    We may have chosen to label these particular behaviors, but I think it is reasonable to say that these behaviors exist independently of our psychological preferences. We can call a dog, “dog” or “chien”, according to our linguistic preferences, but they both refer to something real that would exist even if we never did. Similarly, just because we can subjectively choose to focus upon particular behaviors according to our explanatory needs at the time does not necessarily imply that those behaviors are unreal. If you never meant to imply that such behaviors are unreal, then none of this is relevant to your paragraph, but I thought you may have had anti-realist implications to your statements.

  173. dguller
    22 August 2011 at 13:38 | #173

    Michael:

    Think of natural selection as a sieve and organisms as soil particles. If you shake the sieve, some particles will pass through and some will be retained as determined by the particles’ sizes and shapes. No one would say that the function of the soil particles’ sizes and shapes is to pass through a sieve – would they? They are what they are whether they are sieved or not. Or in other words, evolution happens.

    Couldn’t one say that the nature of the sieve is such that its function is to only allow certain particles to pass through it? In other words, that even without any soil particles being dropped through the sieve, that it contained the potential to sort through soil particles, whereas it lacked the potential to turn particles into bunny rabbits. And if so, then is it reasonable to say that the sieve points towards the end of particle sorting, even when it is not actually sorting particles at all? That would be an inherent teleological aspect of the sieve, then. And the sieve would not be a sieve if it did not have this function of particle sorting.

    Any thoughts?

  174. Michael Fugate
    22 August 2011 at 13:51 | #174

    It is not about the sieve – it is about the particles going through the sieve.
    As for Steersman – I have no idea what your comment means…

  175. 22 August 2011 at 14:05 | #175

    “So, organisms evolved for the replication of information.”

    Let’s try again without the “for” word, because it seems that you are incapable of avoiding the equivocation between “function” and “teleological purpose”.

    Organisms are packages of information wrapped up in matter. They replicate in a variety of ways. Over time, environmental and other effects introduce changes in the information and the packaging. Replication is contingent on various factors, particularly the availability of various resources.

    Introducing teleology adds nothing to this explanation. What fact (intrasubjective, supported by evidence) is better explained by teleology than an eliminative materialism? None.

    Similarly, just because we can subjectively choose to focus upon particular behaviors according to our explanatory needs at the time does not necessarily imply that those behaviors are unreal.

    The behaviors are obviously real (or at least intrasubjectively verifiable). Who suggested anything else? But our descriptions and categorizations are, in your words, contingent on “our explanatory needs at the time”, which clearly suggests that they do not “exist independently of our psychological preferences”. (You seem confused on this point.)

    P.S.

    It seems to me that those who believe in a creative deity are thereby smuggling in teleology as a part of their axiomatic package. It would seem futile for such believers to try to convince others of their point of view, since it is not grounded in intersubjective experience or reason. But I guess the same accusation of wasting my time could be directed at me…..

  176. 22 August 2011 at 14:16 | #176

    Another Matt,

    Well, if we’re talking about form or structure, the point is that these presuppose something which has the form, or elements which bear to one another the structural relationships in question. And even a simulation presupposes something running the simulation — either a mind which entertains the ideas, or a computer running a program. Now, even if we thought of the universe as a kind if giant computer, we couldn’t coherently think of it as just software — software by itself is just an abstraction (MS Windows couldn’t just boot itself up into existence in the absence of either a software engineer or a machine) — but as a kind of machine running the software. And then the “machine” itself in that case would either be characterizable in terms of physics — in which case we’ve just pushed the problem back a stage and haven’t really solved it — or in terms of something different from physics. And either way we’ll still be in the same situation I described, viz. that physics is not the whole story about the nature of material reality.

  177. Another Matt
    22 August 2011 at 14:56 | #177

    I think that a lot of our disagreement is not about the underlying phenomenon in question, which is the rule-like behavior of beings, but about how to talk about it.

    I think I see where we agree and disagree. In the last couple of posts you’ve been arguing for a much more constrained and conservative version of teleology than even the “brittle glass” example. I don’t think this more conservative “small t teleology” is all that controversial. It can be reframed in a number of ways, but I think it distills to an account of observation and reasoning as it occurs in our temporal situation. It’s just a way for us to model our observations so as to be able to say “if x occurs at some point in the future then it will have been caused by y.” I don’t think many people would have a problem with this version of teleology, which does not yet admit concepts like function, purpose, and so forth, and I expect that a lot of people would not even use the word teleology to describe this.

    Where I think things start to go wrong is when language like “in order to” and that phrase’s many cousins start to creep in. Imagine one of the usual “conservation of momentum” experiments, like two blocks with no elasticity sliding toward each other on a frictionless surface. There are a few ways to characterize this event, and each partakes of a kind of teleology:
    “The blocks stopped, demonstrating that momentum is conserved.”
    “The blocks stopped, due to the conservation of momentum.”
    “The blocks stopped, in order to conserve momentum.”
    According to your frame, the first is the most empirical and the latter the most teleological. The first supposes we have a law that has been induced from previous observation, and that this instance of observation bears it out. We can even use the posited law to deduce other things, but our belief in them will only be confirmed by evidence.
    The second characterization speaks of a law that is “real” insofar as it influences the outcome of the experiment. It might be the same kind of invocation of a physical law that one might use to explain why an air conditioner fell from 10 stories and smashed a jack-o-lantern (“gravity caused it to fall”). It’s slightly more teleological than the first because the law is invoked to explain the relevant data as an instance of the application of the law… “conservation of momentum” is a conservative “final cause” of the observed event.
    So far so good, I think, but the third is quite a bit fishier. It ascribes more than the conservative “directedness” to the blocks than the second one does. Far more than saying that the law was the cause of the behavior of the blocks, it says that the blocks were somehow “in on it” and I think it even implies that if the blocks were the same mass and going the same speed and were constrained to move in one dimension but yet they hadn’t stopped after the collision it would be coherent to say “they didn’t stop, in order not to conserve momentum, this time.” Under the first and second characterizations we’d just have to alter our conception or the contents or the scope of the law if the phenomenon were reproducible, but under the latter, because of the phrase “in order to” we’re at a loss of where to go next if something behaves not according to what we think its nature is. There are many other problems beside, but I’ve already written enough to give you a feel for where the rest would go.

    I think it’s this latter “capital T Teleology” that people here are uncomfortable with. I think it’s qualitatively different from the “small t” versions. I’m not sure yet which one concepts like “function” fall under, but given the appropriate analysis of observational levels I don’t think “function” would contradict the more conservative versions.

    Out of courtesy for the inboxes of Eric and the other threadgoers I think we should end this fairly soon, but it’s been probably the most fun conversation I’ve ever had in blog comments. Eric and Prof. Feser, you should insult each other far more often. =o)

  178. dguller
    22 August 2011 at 15:01 | #178

    Geoff:

    Let’s try again without the “for” word, because it seems that you are incapable of avoiding the equivocation between “function” and “teleological purpose”.

    I think that if you realize that both “function” and “purpose” both are different aspects of a common phenomenon, i.e. an entity pointing beyond itself towards the direction of a possible outcome, then you will see that there are different ways of talking about this phenomenon, some better than others, but all basically referring to the same thing. As such, I don’t think that I am equivocating, but rather than trying to describe a common underlying reality that both terms try to capture from different angles.

    Organisms are packages of information wrapped up in matter. They replicate in a variety of ways. Over time, environmental and other effects introduce changes in the information and the packaging. Replication is contingent on various factors, particularly the availability of various resources.

    A couple of comments.

    First, you are describing what has happened in the past. At this moment, if this pattern is to continue, then that means that there is a potential for it to continue in the future, and that this potential points in a particular direction, i.e. the ongoing replication of information. It is this general structure that teleology is supposed to capture. It is not just about describing what has happened up until now, but realizing that at every step of the way, there is a pointing beyond into a particular direction in the future, which partially defines what the nature of a specific thing is supposed to be. This is impossible to account for under a mechanical conception of reality, and so there is no explanation at all of why particular patterns seem to continue to occur.

    Second, you speak about “information”, which from an etymological standpoint is just the Aristotelian acquisition of the form of an object in the intellect, i.e. in-form-ation. That historical oddity aside, information is inherently teleological, because it involves a physical entity referring to something beyond itself. For example, DNA is just the different combinations of base pairs, which carry genetic information by virtue of pointing beyond the DNA towards the amino acid combinations, which produce the proteins that do the actual work in a cell.

    Now, you could reply to this that there is no gap, because it is just a mechanical process in which DNA unzips itself, produces mRNA, which subsequently is physically processed by ribosomes to produce the amino acids that combine to form proteins. And without a gap, then there is no pointing to anything, because it is all right there in the moment. However, what about when DNA is not immediately involved in producing proteins? Does it still encode information? I think it does, and so it is not just while that information is involved in producing proteins, but even when it just has the potential to do so, that it can be said to carry information. And I submit that when it just has the potential, then it is pointing beyond itself towards the direction of the specific combination of amino acids that form the relevant protein.

    Introducing teleology adds nothing to this explanation. What fact (intrasubjective, supported by evidence) is better explained by teleology than an eliminative materialism? None.

    Well, for starters, the existence of minds, which is rejected by eliminative materialism.

    The behaviors are obviously real (or at least intrasubjectively verifiable). Who suggested anything else? But our descriptions and categorizations are, in your words, contingent on “our explanatory needs at the time”, which clearly suggests that they do not “exist independently of our psychological preferences”. (You seem confused on this point)

    Yes, to describe something real, we must use language that depends upon us. I was referring to what our language refers to, and the only reason I brought it up is that there is an ambiguity here that many people with anti-realist sentiments exploit. And the general point was that just because we cannot help but view the world from a teleological perspective does not necessarily mean that teleological features are not a part of the world that we are accurately perceiving. Some people would argue that because teleology is part of our psychology, then it cannot be a part of reality. I am glad to see that you do not make this mistake. You can reject teleology in nature, but just not for this reason. Certainly, there are others.

    It seems to me that those who believe in a creative deity are thereby smuggling in teleology as a part of their axiomatic package. It would seem futile for such believers to try to convince others of their point of view, since it is not grounded in intersubjective experience or reason. But I guess the same accusation of wasting my time could be directed at me

    Sure, I can see some people trying that. Others could just appreciate Aristotle’s framework as more coherent and plausible than the modern mechanical framework. Diehard religious fundamentalists, such as Hilary Putnam and Walter J. Freeman, have found much benefit to Aristotle (in the former) and Aquinas (in the latter). The point is that not everyone who buys into the idea of inherent teleology in nature is a theist in disguise, trying to smuggle their God into a scientific framework. That is a separate issue altogether.

    Anyway, I hope that you don’t view this as a waste of your time. Your comments have been quite helpful to clarify my own understanding of this issue, which is still quite rudimentary. Believe me, I really struggled about intrinsic teleology, thinking that it was obviously false, in the end, I just don’t see any way around accepting it. But that’s just me.

  179. dguller
    22 August 2011 at 15:21 | #179

    Another Matt:

    I think I see where we agree and disagree. In the last couple of posts you’ve been arguing for a much more constrained and conservative version of teleology than even the “brittle glass” example. I don’t think this more conservative “small t teleology” is all that controversial. It can be reframed in a number of ways, but I think it distills to an account of observation and reasoning as it occurs in our temporal situation. It’s just a way for us to model our observations so as to be able to say “if x occurs at some point in the future then it will have been caused by y.” I don’t think many people would have a problem with this version of teleology, which does not yet admit concepts like function, purpose, and so forth, and I expect that a lot of people would not even use the word teleology to describe this.

    Like I said, this is the basic phenomenon that Feser is talking about when he is talking about teleology. If you can agree with it, then we are just arguing semantics. You don’t even have to call it “teleology” at all. But the bottom line is that “function”, “goal”, “purpose” and so on, all are different manifestations of this same phenomenon, some in unconscious material entities, and others in conscious beings. Regardless, I think that they all share the fact that in the natural world, all entities seem to point beyond themselves towards the direction of actualizing specific possibilities, and they all are more complicated and sophisticated manifestations of this core reality.

    I think it’s this latter “capital T Teleology” that people here are uncomfortable with. I think it’s qualitatively different from the “small t” versions. I’m not sure yet which one concepts like “function” fall under, but given the appropriate analysis of observational levels I don’t think “function” would contradict the more conservative versions.

    I think that what people object to is the idea that this directedness necessarily involves either a supervising mind to guide the process in that particular direction, or a mind within the physical entity that chooses a particular direction. Once you add the proviso that neither of these is necessarily applicable, then I have no problem using “goal” or “purpose” or the rest, because I know that even though they seem to conjure in my mind implications about a role for consciousness in the process, I can stop it by reminding myself of the inherent unconsciousness of the process in question. It would be like banning the word “natural selection”, because it involves the implication that nature has a mind that is selecting traits. Sure, it does carry that possible misinterpretation, but once you have clarified your understanding of what “natural selection” means, then you can still use it, despite this possibility of error.

    Out of courtesy for the inboxes of Eric and the other threadgoers I think we should end this fairly soon, but it’s been probably the most fun conversation I’ve ever had in blog comments. Eric and Prof. Feser, you should insult each other far more often.

    Thanks for the stimulating conversation. Take care.

  180. DiscoveredJoys
    22 August 2011 at 15:39 | #180

    I’m losing track of the threading here, I hope this reply turns up in the right place.

    So, I would agree with you that evolution is blind in the sense that it has no long-term ends, but it is certainly operating on a local level upon various immediate ends and unconsciously exploiting them to improve survival, amongst other possible ends.

    Evolution is a process that works at population level (through lots of individual organisms) so you have to be very careful how you speak of local ‘ends’. As far as I can tell there is no goal for each iteration of the selection process, at the level of populations. Organisms that survive well enough survive to generate the next population but this is a characteristic of a selection process, not a ‘goal’. The blind processes will often appear to ‘improve’ the next generation because the less able organisms do not contribute their genes – but this ‘direction’ is something we, the observers, impose on the observations. It is a story we tell ourselves. A moments reflection shows that as most species die out the ‘direction’ we infer must also go the other way to extinction.

  181. 22 August 2011 at 16:01 | #181

    No one would say that the function of the soil particles’ sizes and shapes is to pass through a sieve – would they? They are what they are whether they are sieved or not. Or in other words, evolution happens.

    Right, Michael. But natural selection does not filter the traits of organisms by some objective set of physical properties which the traits simply happen to have, analogous to the size and shape of soil particles. As I noted above, the gene responsible for producing the nylonase enzyme was not subject to selection until the bacteria was exposed to a nylon-rich environment. Even for genetically identical clonal organisms, selection is an ever-changing sieve which selects some physical properties in some environments and other properties in other environments. Which properties? Properties which make a difference with respect to reproductive success compared to other organisms, such that those properties — and the traits that have those properties, and the genes that generate those traits — are represented in a greater or lesser proportion of the population of organisms over successive generations. In other words, properties that are functional, properties that are good for (or bad for) reproduction.

    Nothing in this description of the origin of function in any way violates or transcends or is inconsistent with ordinary, straightforward cause and effect. Rather, function is created by the nature of the particular cause and effect events which occur when populations of organisms reproduce themselves in environments that impose various constraints (resource availability, predation, etc.) on reproduction. Yes, evolution happens. And evolution happening is what produces organisms which consist in a complex and interrelated set of functional systems all geared towards producing more organisms — because being more or less successful at producing more organisms is what evolution consists in. No “idealist mindset” is required to see this, only clear and careful thinking (and avoiding being carried away by bad analogies).

  182. rick longworth
    22 August 2011 at 16:05 | #182

    Steerman, I agree that truth can be a subtle thing. Within science, there is always a chance there is an observation or experiment to guide us. For someone like Aquinas there are probably no such constraints.

  183. dguller
    22 August 2011 at 16:26 | #183

    DJ:

    Evolution is a process that works at population level (through lots of individual organisms) so you have to be very careful how you speak of local ‘ends’.

    That is a good point.

    Perhaps a better way to think about it is along the lines of an emergent property. At the local level, organisms are just struggling to survive for limited resources. When one organism develops an enhanced capability that increases its survival, whether due to a change in the organism due to random mutation, or due to a change in the environment, then that organism has increased chances of better reproductive success, and over time, will dominate the population.

    In some ways, it is like the Invisible Hand of the Market. Each individual within the market is selfishly seeking to optimize their own ends, but when a group of individuals interacts in such a way, then there is an optimization of prices and costs that automatically happens, even though it is not the intent of each individual to do so. That would be a good example of what I mean by local ends unintentionally resulting in distant ends. Another example would be the mind emerging from the individual actions of neurons in the brain. No neuron has programming to make a mind, but by doing what it does in a particular organizational structure seems to result in the generation of a mind.

    So, natural selection operates when one takes the population perspective and observes a population over time, but if one zooms into the individual level, then there is a struggle for survival for limited resources, and where even the slightest survival advantage due to improved functional capacity in some way can improve reproductive success.

    My only point is that just because the more distant ends (e.g. natural selection, invisible hand of the market, the mind) are not present at the local level (e.g. organisms struggling for survival, selfish individuals, neurons) does not make the local ends unreal. In fact, their reality is what generates the emergent process itself. Without animals struggling for survival, there would be no natural selection. Without selfish individuals trying to maximize profits, there would be no equilibrium in market prices. Without individual neurons maintaining their cellular membranes and generating action potentials, there would be no mind.

    Any thoughts?

  184. rick longworth
    22 August 2011 at 16:33 | #184

    “But natural selection does not filter the traits of organisms by some objective set of physical properties which the traits simply happen to have, analogous to the size and shape of soil particles.”

    Primate: I’m not sure what you mean why are not traits objective, physical, properties? This is exactly what happens when soil passes through a filter, or populations confront their environment. An individual penguin in a population of penguins may die due to freezing to death, thus its body was not built so as to withstand the cold, and the individual is eliminated from the populations along with its particular genetic makeup. These are objective physical properties of the penguin.
    The only difference in the case of sand particles is that it can be applied only once with no chance for inheritance. It is an analogy with respect to a phenotype without a genotype, to use the jargon. But, if an individual sand grain is too large for the sieve, its size is an objective physical property of the sand particle.
    The rest of your comment seems irrelevant.

  185. Michael Fugate
    22 August 2011 at 16:54 | #185

    Thanks for catching me up – given my PhD in evolutionary biology – I would have never known that. Too bad you missed the whole point.

  186. dguller
    22 August 2011 at 16:56 | #186

    Kel:

    But I’m not agreeing that teleology is inherent in nature, I’m arguing that it’s emergent and contingent. Now that might be arguing semantics, but it’s an important distinction to make. I see no reason that any design in biology requires any form of mind to come about – it just does by the nature of the process. If this is me getting on board with Feser, then I’m wondering how how God fits into all this – as the process certainly has no purpose, goals, or ends.

    I agree with you that much higher-order teleology in nature is emergent and contingent, but it emerges from the activity of lower-order entities that themselves have a more basic form of teleology. Even atoms point beyond themselves towards a direction to actualize a specific possibility. Even before an electron has jumped to a higher quantum level due to the acquisition of energy, it points beyond itself towards such a specific possibility. It is this pointing beyond itself that indicates teleology, and not a conscious intention to act in a particular way. That is the sense of teleology that we are discussing. And you are right that it does not require a mind in most cases, which means that God is incidental to this discussion. There is no need to throw out the baby with the bathwater.

  187. Kel
    22 August 2011 at 18:05 | #187

    “I agree with you that much higher-order teleology in nature is emergent and contingent, but it emerges from the activity of lower-order entities that themselves have a more basic form of teleology.”
    It’s not one is a higher order and one’s a lower order, you’re using teleology in two very different ways. When we’re talking about teleology in biology, it’s talking about function and purpose – a wing is for flying, a heart is for pumping blood, etc. It’s a very different phenomenon to glass in the ocean, where the glass will be smoothed out by the way it interacts with the particles of the sea, or a mountain eroding by way of glacier. There’s no purpose or goal or ends.

    “Even atoms point beyond themselves towards a direction to actualize a specific possibility. Even before an electron has jumped to a higher quantum level due to the acquisition of energy, it points beyond itself towards such a specific possibility.”
    Entropy is a teleological process? I’m not sure what you could possibly mean by such a statement.

    “That is the sense of teleology that we are discussing. And you are right that it does not require a mind in most cases, which means that God is incidental to this discussion. There is no need to throw out the baby with the bathwater.”
    There are much better reasons to throw God out than the teleological argument, but haven’t we just agreed that teleology has been naturalised without needing a mind? As Feser said above: “But “assigning a normative value” is itself an instance of teleology or goal-directedness. In particular, it is an instance of the sort of teleology that essentially characterizes creatures with minds, and as we have seen, the human mind is the example par excellence of an irreducibly teleological phenomenon.” You might disagree that I’ve eliminated teleology completely, but you’ve agreed that evolution is reducible away from goals and purpose and ends.

  188. RH
    22 August 2011 at 21:52 | #188

    Prof Feser,  thank you for dropping in to reply!

    (Sorry I’m late, I’m on vacation.  Though I can put this whole question to rest, as I have discovered one thing in the universe that must be objectively, intrinsically evil:  struggling to type in HTML code on an iPad).

    Feser  wrote: A lioness tends to nourish her cubs. And that is not some incidental fact, but follows from the nature of the animal. A lioness who failed to do this with would be a deficient or defective lioness, just as a lioness whose leg had been torn off or which had been born blind would be deficient or defective qua lioness.

    So far looking like a naturalistic fallacy.   Though you say this is not yet a moral goodness, it still seems to suffer the same problem of arbitrariness.  That is: if you are meaning to impute some objective nature to the “good” of being a lion, so far I see nothing but an arbitrary selection from a range of possible things lions ” tend” to do.  You 

    When we call something “good” what we mean fundamentally, for an Aristotelian, is the sense of “good” we have in mind when we describe something as a “good specimen” of a general kind of thing.

    But as I understand it, the Aristotelian wants to say “ends, purposes, functions, final causes” and in this instance “good” are objective (intrinsically so, even)?  So far I’m seeing nothing pointing in this direction.  Rather, you still seem to be selecting from a set of possible descriptions of lionesses and calling only certain ones Good.  There is a selection process there – a preferential treatment of only certain descriptions, yet I’m not seeing your method of preferring one set while rejecting others.  

    When anyone talks of a “good” specimen, even if they mean somehow generally representative, this does not strike me as identifying anything intrinsic or objective.  It seems only an expression of how the specimen meets 
    a certain desire they have.  That desire may be to acquire or identify a specimen that he finds representative of a species, but it still clearly seems an subjective valuation and I see nothing pointing to objectivity in your explanation thus far.  There is still the gap I spoke of.

    Further, I’d wonder how cogent this notion of “good” in terms of “norms” can be when faced with the messy reality of evolution.  After all, the way populations evolve is often by certain members breaking from the norms of that population (either with a physical or physical/behavioral modification.
    This certainly includes how an organism treats it’s young.  Right now a lioness who tends to nourish her cubs is the norm, which you deem “good.”
    But it’s quite possible those lionesses born with a propensity to let some portion of her cubs die could, under new selection pressures (perhaps extended food scarcity), end up allowing for the survival and reproduction, leading to modification in the following populations.  However, it seems such a lioness would be termed “bad” under your system of classification so long as she is not representing the norm.   When or how would the new trait, which at some point will be part of the new norm  become “good.”
    If this is truly an objective phenomenon, at what point does “goodness” suddenly enter the sequence?

    I’m still extremely skeptical that an answer won’t betray more subjectivity on your part.

    Moral badness enters in only where we have a creature with reason and free will who can grasp his nature and deliberately choose whether or not to live in a way consistent with what that nature defines as good for a thing of that type.

    Again, there is to my eye a massive slight of hand there.  You write “that nature defines as good for a thing…”
    But all I’ve seen is you define what is good for a thing.  I see no reason to agree whatsoever.  While I could certainly agree with the objective nature of “what lionesses do, ” I detect no objective “good” from any descriptions of their behavior, of the sort you apparently identify.  It feels like I’m standing next to a painting with someone who has given a description of the oils, colors and techniques employed in the painting, but who then claims some portion of that description allows him to declare the painting “objectively good..can’t you see it,s objectively good?”  No, I dont see why I I I  I ought to agree.

    And I see no explanation for why I should follow your move from your description to value to normative statement.

    Now there can only be a “fact/value dichotomy” and a “naturalistic fallacy” if we assume that there really are no ends toward which things naturally tend to point, and no natures or essences that give things these ends.

    That just seems to be begging the question under discussion.  It’s essentially to say: Given Aristotelianism obviates any fact/value dichotomy, that dichotomy is only a problem if you reject Aristotelianism.

    But that’s the very question under debate!  Does Aristotelianism in fact avoid the problems of the fact / value dichotomy?   Yet from what you write here,  the fallacy seems immanent.   I don’t see the connection that a reasonable person must follow between your fact statements about what x does and what it ought to do.  And that goes even IF I accepted the description that any X that tends to point toward an end.  

    As I remember it, Hume did not proclaim it impossible to get an ought from an is (or to bridge is to ought).  He just observed the difference between the two types of statements and said anyone moving from is statements to ought statements owes an explanation for how they are doing this.  

    It seems to me that at this point in moral philosophy,  one cannot fail to have an answer to Humes’s query.  You can claim it can’t be bridged ( as some do) .
    You can claim it can be bridged ( as some do, and as I believe it can be, and there are a variety of approaches in declaring Hume’s dilemma is not a problem), or you can try to declare it irrelevant to your moral theory.  But in any case you need an answer.    What I’m not seeing so far from you is a reason to think you are on the way to establishing any of those responses.
    I see no principal you are appealing to to establish why a reasonable person ought to go along with your move from descriptive statements to ought statements.   And, along the same lines, why one ought to move from descriptive statements, observations,  to teleological statements about ends, functions, purposes.   (I think we can get there, but it’s hopeless trying to pretend we are discovering intrinsic teleology and value, rather than accepting we are the ones imposing our values one otherwise very real observed patterns.   Intrinsic value is incoherent and does a very poor job explaining value both in ontological terms and how humans actually talk about value).

    Moderns tend to think of the natural world roughly on the model of the ancient atomists’ “atoms and the void” – meaningless stuff in motion, where the natures that define the macro level objects of our experience are somehow illusory and only the atoms themselves are “real

    Honestly, this really does indicate a failure on your part to acknowledge emergent properties, and the different levels of analysis we can apply to physical systems (I expect you would protest that you are quite familiar with the issue…but that’s not how your reply here reads).

    Few secular people I know think that the fact of any basic atomic structure renders our macro world of experience “illusory.”.  The only people I ever see harping on “meaningless matter in motion” are theists in apologetics mode,
    who continually make the bizarre assertion that if we are all just ” matter in motion” then there could be nor meaning, purpose or value.  Utter non-sequiturs. 

    The individual fundamental physical parts (e.g. Atoms etc) of a computer 
    can’t run windows, but together in the form of s computer they certainly can – a fact as real as anything else, including as real as the atomic structure.
    The fact any human may be constituted of more fundamental particles doesn’t make our feelings of joy, pain, sadness, determination, desires, or actions to fulfill our desires, any less real.

    While I appreciate that the rest of what you wrote may give a snapshot of your claims (and I’ve certainly encountered similar claims regularly from theists)…none of it addresses the questions I raised.

    Much thanks again.

    RH

  189. 23 August 2011 at 03:27 | #189

    dguller opines, in response to my question…

    Introducing teleology adds nothing to this explanation. What fact (intrasubjective, supported by evidence) is better explained by teleology than an eliminative materialism? None.

    Well, for starters, the existence of minds, which is rejected by eliminative materialism.

    I’m puzzled why people always jump on mind (or, equivalently, consciousness) as “the hard problem”.Dualism or nostalgia, I guess. Eliminative materialism simply says that “minds are what brains do” (a cliche, but true nonetheless). It rejects the notion that “minds” are entities (with properties, dispositions, attributes, whatever) in favor of the non-dualistic idea that they are brain processes.

    Unless you are a dualist (are you?), it seems incoherent to talk about “minds” as entities. So I don’t. And despite the hand-wavings of mysterians like Chalmers, I see nothing uniquely baffling about minds, consciousness, or first-person experience. (I’m much for impressed by the ability of nematodes to learn than I am with your ability to read what I’ve written!)

  190. DiscoveredJoys
    23 August 2011 at 05:30 | #190

    I like the analogy of the invisible hand (although I don’t think it is a perfect analogy for economics, but that would be a different thread entirely…)

    I like the fact that we are talking of genetic/individual/population levels of analysis. I agree with the proposition that collections of ‘stuff’ can be observed to display emergent behaviours.

    But I’m going to quibble with your choice of words…

    When one organism develops an enhanced capability that increases its survival, whether due to a change in the organism due to random mutation, or due to a change in the environment,…

    This is a perfectly usual statement from Natural Selection, but the language imports teleology. In the context of this thread (and Feser’s arguments, remember him?) organisms don’t develop enhanced capacities. An organism will either have a capability, and survive, or it won’t. Possession of the capability is contingent and accidental. If enough organisms can be characterised by the new capability, the characteristics of the population will display a model of that capability too.

    My argument is that if individuals don’t ‘develop’ capabilities then populations don’t ‘develop’ capabilities, so there is no active (conscious or unconscious) principle producing a direction or narrative of development. The appearance of teleology in the natural world is like the appearance of design, it is an artefact of observation by our conscious minds.

    Of course I may be wrong – but in the natural world I would want to see testable natural mechanisms for the production of objective teleology before I could be subjectively convinced.

  191. rick longworth
    23 August 2011 at 07:58 | #191

    I think this perspective (material monism) is pretty widely accepted among thinkers today influenced by the enlightenment. To revert to Aquinas seems quaint, but irrelevant. Too much water under the bridge.

  192. 23 August 2011 at 08:04 | #192

    Dmitry,

    First, induction is a huge problem if you buy into Hume’s empirical framework, and it completely undermines the possibility of empirical knowledge at all.

    But surely that’s just silly. After all, Hume spoke about constant conjunction and cause. He never deinied that empirical knowledge was possible. It just wasn’t deductive and it was never 100% sure. But most modern scientists in practice accept Hume’s analysis of causation (in general) since they do believe it is necessary to verify casual theories by seeing if the regular conjunctions are there.

    As or the other things you say in your comment they seem largely irrelevant to me. Yes, if a particular arugment for the way things are in the world ropes in a god or two, then that is a good reason to go on looking, because there’s no evidence for gods in the universe. It’s not a “fear of theism”; it’s just a conviction that, without evidence of theism, we shouldn’t take steps in the direction of theory or description which implicitly assume a god. Anything in a theory of the world that implies gods is, barring evidence to the contrary, going up a blind alley and will get lost there. And it seems to me that it is up this blind alley that Feser insists on going. As he says, in a response to Another Matt: “And either way we’ll still be in the same situation I described, viz. that physics is not the whole story about the nature of material reality.” That seems to me to make it very clear where he is heading with all this.

    As to the directedness of the natural world. This still is not convincing. I admit that, from our cognitive point of view, it is natural to speak of things doing things for a purpose, but I don’t see that that language is wholly irreducible. A potentiality to do something is not, so far as I can tell, a teleological function. We know, for example, that the wings of birds can be exapted for swimming (eg, penguins), but that potential for exaptation for a different purpose is not teleological. In the right circumstances wings can be “exapted” for the function of swimming, but it hardly does to say that they are “for” swimming, whatever their potential. People who speak about lateral intelligence think that such people are creatively inclinced to think of unlikely uses for ordinary things, but it can scarcely be said that, because something can be made use of in a creative way that they are somehow “for” those things. And if you say, “Well that’s not it’s “normal” function,” then you have given the game away, and we are really talking about how things appear to us to have a function. But what, for example, are we to say the hips of whales are “for”, since, readapted from land to water, they no longer have any obvious function even though the bone structure is still there? The kind of discrete directionality you are pointing towards does not, as such, exist, prior to the environmental circumstances and the selection history combined, turning some random — notice, completely “random” — mutation into a functioning part of the organism in the enivronment. The essentialism that you are arguing for will not only, in the end, I think, demand a theological answer; it is, in fact, from what I can tell, doing theology.

  193. rick longworth
    23 August 2011 at 09:38 | #193

    “The appearance of teleology in the natural world is like the appearance of design, it is an artefact of observation by our conscious minds.
    Of course I may be wrong – but in the natural world I would want to see testable natural mechanisms for the production of objective teleology before I could be subjectively convinced.”

    DiscoveredJoys is right on the money. There is an appearance of teleology like an appearance of design. And describing it in even the most minimal sense doesn’t ring true to me. The problem with looking at nature teleologically is that it doesn’t fit with the word as we understanding it in the post-enlightenment era. We expect an hypothesis to fit with what we already know and be verifiable in some way. If things are somehow end-directed, how would we demonstrate this? Hard to say, and if we can’t is it even a meaningful idea? We can look at the concept of niche and notice that marsupials evolving independently in Australia occupy similar niches to placental mammals elseware. Does this imply that organisms are guided by specific kinds of habitats to evolve specific kinds of bodies? Well, yes, but as a test of teleology this is not useful because it only says similar patterns are emergent across instances of evolution given similarities in environments. Likewise, we know that certain organs like the eye have evolved many times independently. Does this mean that the eye is a popular evolutionary solution that will, under a variety of conditions, occur? Yes, of course. These cases direct our attention toward the “ends” of evolutionary change, (note that blind moles and cave fishes deny the eye is a true end) yet we still know natural selection is a blind process that does not look ahead. The eye is a solution to a problem of survival that will naturally be stumbled upon as a stochastically probable one. Niches are like pits or valleys in the ecological landscape that accidentally attract organisms that wander blindly nearby.

    I think scientific skepticism and caution provides the tools to detect and circumvent the appearances and illusion of design and of teleology that so fascinated Aquinas. If these scientific values are ignored, we are bound to wallow in the errors of past ages.

  194. Another Matt
    23 August 2011 at 10:31 | #194

    If things are somehow end-directed, how would we demonstrate this? Hard to say, and if we can’t is it even a meaningful idea?

    I think this is why I find the word “teleology” such a maddeningly poor word to use to describe “potentiality” since we already have words like “potential” and “property” that don’t imply “goal orientation,” but casting them in goal-oriented terms allows you to sneak in all kinds of other nasty things.

    On the other hand I can’t quite tell whether teleology as such also requires a kind of determinism, and this has been largely missing from the discussion. On a more traditional usage maybe it would — it could be meaningful to speak of “the goal” of some natural process if it’s all determined in the first place, but I think a strong determinism would make the distinction between efficient cause and final cause totally unnecessary, even tautological. The way dguller has been using “teleology,” I think it almost presupposes indeterminacy, because it’s just describing the range of potential future states something could be in that it isn’t in now, and that has a flavor of not being able to know which of those states it will occupy (otherwise you could just describe its state as “statically” occupying some kind of deterministic line and be done with it). Or maybe it’s irrelevant; I haven’t thought about it too deeply.

  195. dguller
    23 August 2011 at 10:54 | #195

    Eric:

    But surely that’s just silly. After all, Hume spoke about constant conjunction and cause. He never deinied that empirical knowledge was possible. It just wasn’t deductive and it was never 100% sure. But most modern scientists in practice accept Hume’s analysis of causation (in general) since they do believe it is necessary to verify casual theories by seeing if the regular conjunctions are there.

    Recall Hume’s project. In his Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding (Hackett, 1993), he argued that if we cannot trace our ideas to any sense impressions, or empirical experiences, then those ideas do not represent anything real, and are simply phantasms of our minds. That is his fundamental premise of empiricism. Based upon this foundation, he argues that “power, force, energy, or necessary connexion” (p. 40) do not exist in reality, and are simply projections of our minds: “Consequently, there is not, in any single, particular instance of cause and effect, any thing which can suggest the idea of power or necessary connexion” (p. 41), and thus, we cannot “point out that circumstance in the cause, which gives it a connexion with its effect” (p. 51). (Incidentally, try to do physics without power, force or energy.)

    Again, this is rooted in his idea that all we experience are individual empirical events, one after the other, and each individual event lacks what Feser would call “teleology”, i.e. the pointing beyond itself towards the direction of a specific possible outcome. Without this phenomenon, he argues that “Solidity, extension, motion; these qualities are all complete in themselves, and never point out any other event which may result from them” (p. 42). And this is why there is a problem of induction that is more radical than what you suppose, if you take Hume’s system seriously. This is because when we are confronted by X that has always in the past been followed by Y, then at the moment that X appears, there is literally nothing that points in the direction of Y happening, and X is “complete in [itself]”, because “[a]ll events seem entirely loose and separate” (p. 49). X stands facing into a void with nothing that points in any particular direction, and thus we can never say that Y will follow in reality, and are forced to just wait and see. Sure, we can impose our psychological projections upon X and imagine Y will happen, but there is nothing about X that causes Y to happen in reality. As he writes: “he now feels these events to be connected in his imagination” (p. 50).

    So, you are absolutely correct that induction per se is not problematic for human knowledge, and it is simply due to our temporal and cognitive limitations, and thus means that we will always fall short of certain knowledge when we are confronted by the future. However, it does not follow from this that there is nothing deeper going on that is causing the various regularities that we experience in nature. That is Hume’s position, and it is a radical one that would nullify all science, because he says that, because we never directly experience the underlying laws of nature, but only their surface manifestations, then there are no laws of nature in reality, but only in our imagination. Try to tell any scientist that the laws of nature that they discover are imaginary fantasies, and see how seriously they will take you. And incidentally, this is one of Feser’s points about Hume. People always pay lip service to him, but rarely understand the radical nature of his project, and just how much it undermines.

    As or the other things you say in your comment they seem largely irrelevant to me. Yes, if a particular arugment for the way things are in the world ropes in a god or two, then that is a good reason to go on looking, because there’s no evidence for gods in the universe.

    Would you reject reason altogether, because some people would argue that the fact that we can reason at all implies an ultimate source of the regularity in nature that is the root of reason’s efficacy? Of course not. I mean, some concepts are just useful, independent of theology, and just because theology tries to use them for its own purposes is no reason to reject those concepts. Remember, it is not necessary that teleology leads to God, but only possible. Would you really reject an idea, because it might lead to God?

    A potentiality to do something is not, so far as I can tell, a teleological function.

    Again, you can call this phenomenon whatever you want, but I think that it is difficult to do away with the idea that all things point beyond themselves towards the direction of certain possible outcomes. All potentiality is the potential to do something, and this potentiality points towards the possibility of actualizing it, and thus points beyond what is happening at the moment. This directedness is all Feser is talking about. Honestly, you are getting all hung up with words and connotations. It would be like objecting to using the word “dog” to refer to dogs, because it can also be used to refer to unfaithful men, and you just cannot abide by the possibility that this could be the case.

    And if you are arguing that this is just how our minds impose order on the world, then you are agreeing with Hume’s radical conception of the world, and all the paradoxical problems that it entails. So, there are no laws of nature, except in the imagination of scientists. That’s surely a solid foundation for science.

  196. dguller
    23 August 2011 at 11:57 | #196

    Geoff:

    I’m puzzled why people always jump on mind (or, equivalently, consciousness) as “the hard problem”.Dualism or nostalgia, I guess. Eliminative materialism simply says that “minds are what brains do” (a cliche, but true nonetheless). It rejects the notion that “minds” are entities (with properties, dispositions, attributes, whatever) in favor of the non-dualistic idea that they are brain processes.

    Actually, what eliminative materialists argue is that minds do not exist at all, but only brain states do. It is not that the mind can be reduced to brain events, but rather that the mind can be discarded altogether, because it has properties that simply cannot be consistent with a thoroughgoing materialism. In other words, our folk psychological talk about beliefs, desires, and so on, is all just wrong and should be eliminated from the way we refer to ourselves. So, if you want to say that “I believe that John is here”, then the eliminative materialist will say that you are talking nonsense, because there is no such thing as a belief at all. What you should say instead is that brain state X has activated brain state Y by virtue of the transmission of an action potential along an axon, which released neurotransmitters along the synapse from one neuron to another. That is all you can say.

    And even if you reject this program as too radical, which I hope you do, then you have to accept that minds exist, even as emergent processes secondary to underlying brain processes, and thus have to explain how things like beliefs and desires are possible, given neurobiology. And there are a number of difficulties with such an account, most difficult, I think, is the problem of intentionality.

    Unless you are a dualist (are you?), it seems incoherent to talk about “minds” as entities. So I don’t.

    I am not a dualist, but I do not dismiss dualism out of hand, because there are significant difficulties with a monist account of mind, which I hope can be overcome, and there are hints here and there about how it might, but none of which has delivered on their promises thus far. I am actually most sympathetic to an account of mind similar to Dennett’s in which the mind is an emergent process of underlying neurobiology, although I doubt that he would put it that way.

    And despite the hand-wavings of mysterians like Chalmers, I see nothing uniquely baffling about minds, consciousness, or first-person experience. (I’m much for impressed by the ability of nematodes to learn than I am with your ability to read what I’ve written).

    Okay, then what exactly do you mean when you say that you are “impressed” by something, or that you “believe” something? Is there such a thing as “belief” as a real phenomenon in nature, or is it just an illusion that masks the reality that there are just brain states turning on and off in response to various inputs?

    Thanks.

  197. dguller
    23 August 2011 at 12:03 | #197

    Rick:

    I think this perspective (material monism) is pretty widely accepted among thinkers today influenced by the enlightenment. To revert to Aquinas seems quaint, but irrelevant. Too much water under the bridge.

    First, just because a position is widely accepted does not make it true.

    Second, one does not have to accept the totality of Thomism to accept that Aquinas may have had important insights into certain matters. You can read the article by the neurophysiologist, Walter J. Freeman, about how one can use aspects of Aquinas’ philosophy of mind in a fruitful way to better understand intention in the human mind: http://www.mindmatter.de/resources/pdf/freemanwww.pdf

    And you will note that Freeman can use the things that Aquinas seems to have gotten right without being sucked into becoming a devout Catholic. It is possible to keep the baby while discarding the bathwater, after all.

  198. dguller
    23 August 2011 at 12:31 | #198

    DJ:

    My argument is that if individuals don’t ‘develop’ capabilities then populations don’t ‘develop’ capabilities, so there is no active (conscious or unconscious) principle producing a direction or narrative of development. The appearance of teleology in the natural world is like the appearance of design, it is an artefact of observation by our conscious minds.

    I would respond that all capabilities are capabilities that point in the direction of specific possible outcomes, and thus inherently involve teleology in this sense. Without such a directionality, then anything would happen, and since it does not, then directionality such as this must exist. Again, I think that we need to keep the meaning of terms clear. By “teleology”, all Feser means is that “all entities point beyond themselves in the direction of specific possible outcomes”. Either this directedness is an inherent part of nature, or it is an imposition of our minds. If the former, then we can all go home. If the latter, then causality is compromised, induction of general principles is compromised, and all human knowledge is basically torn to shreds.

    And this is because if each individual event in nature is completely isolated and radically independent of every other event in nature, as Hume supposed, then there is nothing about an event that points beyond itself towards specific possible outcomes, which is all teleology is. However, then you are stuck with the problem of explaining how one event causes another, because there is nothing in any single event that is an “active principle”, as you called it, that results in one thing happening and not another. All you have is correlation, but not causation, and correlation is always about the past, and not about the future. You cannot make predictions based upon correlation alone, because you have to add the further assumption that whatever made the correlation possible continues to be operative in the present, which necessarily points towards the direction of specific possible outcomes, and thus teleology.

    And if there is no such underlying process or principle, then there can be no general principles that are supposed to be predictive of future instances of such patterns. And if you cannot have such principles, then you cannot have knowledge. All of this follows if you say that it is all in the mind, but not in reality, because then nature is just an incoherent flux, and all scientific laws of nature are just in our imagination, which would be news to scientists and those who rely upon technology.

  199. rick longworth
    23 August 2011 at 12:37 | #199

    Don’t worry. I’m not in any danger of becoming a Catholic, devout or otherwise.

  200. dguller
    23 August 2011 at 12:39 | #200

    Rick:

    The problem with looking at nature teleologically is that it doesn’t fit with the word as we understanding it in the post-enlightenment era.

    You are right that it doesn’t fit, because the post-enlightenment era is supposed to endorse a mechanistic conception of nature, even though it has also rejected such a conception when it included fields and forces, for example. The question is whether this is because teleology is inconsistent with all post-enlightenment scientific discoveries. Many would argue that it is not, and that including it actually resolves a number of philosophical puzzles that the mechanistic and materialistic conception of nature is simply unable to resolve.

    If things are somehow end-directed, how would we demonstrate this? Hard to say, and if we can’t is it even a meaningful idea?

    How would you demonstrate that X causes Y without including the fact that X points beyond itself towards Y as a possible outcome? Causation presupposes teleology in the sense that we are discussing. Without it, you just have one thing happening after another with no reason at all to believe that it will continue, because there is nothing happening in X to cause Y. And this leads to problems, such as the destruction of all human knowledge and science itself.

    If you can agree with this sense of teleology, and not the one that you are debating in which there must be a conscious intent either in the entities in question or in a higher being, then we can all finish this thread. However, if you want to endorse the view that each empirical event stands completely independent of all others without any thread tying them together, and pointing beyond itself to a limited range of possible outcomes that have not yet been actualized, then you are stuck with a number of philosophical puzzles and paradoxes that no-one has been able to reconcile. And just so you know, these puzzles have been so bad that serious thinkers, such as Hilary Putnam, are going back to Aristotle for solutions.

  201. dguller
    23 August 2011 at 12:49 | #201

    Another Matt:

    I think this is why I find the word “teleology” such a maddeningly poor word to use to describe “potentiality” since we already have words like “potential” and “property” that don’t imply “goal orientation,” but casting them in goal-oriented terms allows you to sneak in all kinds of other nasty things.

    “Potential” does imply directedness, because every potential is a potential to become something in particular, and as such every actual being that has potentiality necessarily points beyond itself towards specific possible outcomes, which is all teleology is supposed to be. That is all we are talking about here, and I really don’t think that it is that controversial or nonsensical. And it goes without saying that conscious minds have nothing to do with it in the vast majority of cases, as it seems to be an inbuilt part of the natural world that our minds can discover. Otherwise, every scientific law is just a fantasy in our imagination, which does not represent anything in reality, which is just an incoherent flux of independent events that have no thread tying them together.

    The way dguller has been using “teleology,” I think it almost presupposes indeterminacy, because it’s just describing the range of potential future states something could be in that it isn’t in now, and that has a flavor of not being able to know which of those states it will occupy (otherwise you could just describe its state as “statically” occupying some kind of deterministic line and be done with it). Or maybe it’s irrelevant; I haven’t thought about it too deeply.

    That is interesting.

    I think that it depends upon your perspective. If one was able to observe space-time from the “outside” – whatever that means – then there would be no potential at all, because all you observe is actual events. However, from our subjective perspective as agents operating within space-time, everything is a combination of potential and actuality, and potentiality is always about the future, because what has happened is actual and not potential at all. What might have happened is in our minds, though. So, I think that what I would favor is ontological determinism, even though some interpretations of quantum mechanics would disagree, but epistemological indeterminism by virtue of our position within space-time as agents facing an unknown future and being unable to determine many key factors that would allow us to accurate predict the future due to various human limitations.

    Any thoughts?

  202. DiscoveredJoys
    23 August 2011 at 17:42 | #202

    I feel we are getting closer to an understanding, but I wonder if we’ll ever agree because it seems that we are differing over ‘style’.

    I think you are arguing that a tiger cub has the capability of becoming a tiger, and the tiger is a final end. No exterior agency is required, but a direction is implied. This is your usage of ‘teleology’. It’s a big step on from Aristotle’s ideas about forms and causes.

    My argument is that a tiger cub will grow to be a tiger through a long and complicated set of ‘prior state/unguided process/post state’ sequences that are purely mechanistic. My view is that there is no direction, only unfolding processes.

    Perhaps, to drastically oversimplify, you see the adult tiger as a goal for the cub, whereas I see the cub as a launch pad for growth to adult?

  203. Steve Ruble
    23 August 2011 at 18:06 | #203

    So, I see nothing wrong with criticizing a definition if its own meaning leads to absurd conclusions, independent of other possible definitions, which may have the benefit of avoiding such absurdities.

    That’s fine. Just as a reminder, here’s what you originally wrote:

    If you start with the initial premise: “X has a function F if and only if X has evolved such that having F conferred a survival advantage”, then it follows that if X had not evolved, then X could not have a function F. That is just the logical implications of the premise, and as such, do not require any argument at all. The idea is that if we can identify functions without any knowledge of evolutionary history, then the premise is false, and should be rejected. [my emphasis]

    Can you explain how you are not introducing and imposing your own definition there?

    But it does provide an explanation, but perhaps not the kind of explanation that you would prefer. Aristotle would have said that any explanation must include final causes, or the ends for which an entity is directed towards. So, it depends upon what you mean by “explanation” here.

    Well, obviously, but come on. If I ask you, “Why do hearts exist, and why do they take the forms they do?” do you really think you have provided any kind of answer by saying “the heart’s function is to pump blood through the circulatory system.”? The fact that a heart pumps blood through the circulatory system is obvious: it’s what the heart observably does, and as far as I can tell saying that doing pumping blood is its “function” gives me exactly zero information about why it exists at all.

    That was a noble effort, except for the inclusion of “dedicated to ensuring that”, which implies an end or goal that the heart’s behavior is supposed to fulfill.

    You’re right, that does sound teleological. Well, no one said that it was easy to avoid all teleological-sounding language; the point is to demonstrate that language that sounds teleological can be reduced to meaningful descriptions of efficient causes. To that end, one can replace “animals which had muscles which were dedicated to ensuring that blood was reliably distributed throughout their bodies” with “animals which had muscles which rhythmically contracted in a way which caused their blood to continuously circulate evenly throughout their bodies” and, presto, you can’t make the mistake of thinking it’s teleological anymore. Unless, I suppose, you’re really determined.

    The bottom line is that for a trait to increase survival, then that trait must do something to increase survival, and that would have to be a novel function that gives it that advantage, such as being able to metabolize nutrients in the environment that other organisms cannot, for example.

    Look what you’re doing: you’re injecting that word “function” in there, as if it’s necessary. But there’s no loss of information if you leave it out entirely. See?

    The bottom line is that for a trait to increase survival, then that trait must do something to increase survival, such as being able to metabolize nutrients in the environment that other organisms cannot, for example.

    All you need to do is describe what it does, and how that increases survival, and you’re done.

    I would say that what X is for can only be determined by comparing it to similar entities in the same general category, and figuring out what X does differently and uniquely, and that would be what X is for.

    I can see how that could be a useful definition for some purposes, but it looks like you’ve accidentally left out the teleology. What you seem to have is a definition that lets you determine the “function” of X purely from observations of what X and things similar to X actually do, without any reference to “directedness” or anything like that. It’s a purely physical definition, with no metaphysical speculation. Perhaps teleology isn’t as critical as you had supposed?

  204. Another Matt
    23 August 2011 at 18:13 | #204

    I think you are arguing that a tiger cub has the capability of becoming a tiger, and the tiger is a final end. No exterior agency is required, but a direction is implied. This is your usage of ‘teleology’. It’s a big step on from Aristotle’s ideas about forms and causes.

    Let’s demand some honesty from the Aristotelians, though, if we’re also supposed to derive something moral from this. Under the proposed regime, “tiger cub” also “points to”:

    1) Fur rug (in case of game hunter)
    2) Lump of char (in case of napalm attack)
    3) Shark food (in case of global deluge)
    4) Nationwide celebrity (in case of Siegfried and Roy)
    5) Representative fossil (in case of ossification and future paleontologist)
    6) White vomit (in case of ingestion by nauseous hyena)

    etc. It possesses “directedness” toward all of these other things according to its nature. I’m pretty sure dguller, if I understand correctly, would not consider this controversial, maybe only a little whimsical. But I’m not as sure about those like Prof. Feser, who seem to want to say that the things I mentioned aren’t part of the cub’s natural teleology because they aren’t proper goals for a “tiger qua tiger” — the “natural essence” of a tiger does not point to these things. Someone might say that your “exterior agency” is the driving factor with some of my examples, but note that for tiger cub to become tiger there also has to be some external agency (the tiger has to feed; it relies on gut flora for metabolism, and so forth). Another quibble might be lack of specificity — “shark food” is an idea regarding many animals in general, not specifically tigers. But in any case things like “goal” and “according to its nature” seem to me extraordinarily broad and far too vague to get specific moral content from.

  205. 23 August 2011 at 18:29 | #205

    DiscoveredJoys, you an dguller may be getting closer to an understanding, but I think it’s more than just a difference is style. You say to him:

    Perhaps, to drastically oversimplify, you see the adult tiger as a goal for the cub, whereas I see the cub as a launch pad for growth to adult?

    And it doesn’t seem to me that dguller would disagree with you: being a launch pad for growth to an adult is all the directionality he needs for his argument, and you’re conceding this to him. It’s the much more “complicated set of ‘prior state/unguided process/post state’ [purely mechanistic] sequences” that are really at issue, for dguller as well as Dr. Feser are committed to the directionality of these sequences.

    Take their end point, and the directionality/teleology of these earlier stages are built in; and I don’t think you are conceding this to them. As he says: “I would respond that all capabilities are capabilities that point in the direction of specific possible outcomes, and thus inherently involve teleology in this sense.” And I think this is just nonsense. For these capabilities must be, in a sense, present in the original carbon atoms that went to make up the first organic compounds which in turn became the first living cells, and must be inherent in the hydrogen atoms that fuse to create helium which in turn creates beryllium which, if the temperature is high enough, some 100 million degrees Kelvin, to form a stable form of carbon if the there is enough berylliun around to fuse with a third helium nucleus. And if you take teleology back this far, you are committed — dguller says no, but I think this is simply wrong — to some kind of theistic solution. Dr. Feser wants us to believe that evolution and theism are separate issues, and can be dealt with independently, and dguller has oblingingly said yes; but I think this is just wishful thinking.

    However, if you take Dr. Feser’s original text (which I posted above, and almost everyone has studiously ignored), he is saying that a purely mechanistic/algorithmic notion of function is incoherent, and he thinks he has shown how. As I have said, and will say again, I don’t see this from what he has said. Despite his efforts to clarify what he is saying, it still makes no sense to me. Dguller has said, and has said again and again, that even such particles as electrons have direction and purpose, and this is shown (apparently?) by the trajectory they subsequently take. But this is as close to nonsense as I think you can get. What does it mean?

    In the chapter of Darwin’s Dangerous Idea to which Dr. Feser refers (chapter 14), Dennett is at some pains to show that meaning evolves. The chapter is entitled “The Quest for Real Meaning.” Or, in other words, the quest for essential meaning. Now, that is what you folks have been up to for the last few days, looking for “real” meaning, and the truth is that there is no real meaning to be had. One of the mistakes that linguistic philosophy sometimes made was thinking that, if we analysed our ordinary language, we would come, at last, to real meaning, an idea that Wittgenstein thought he had laid to rest, but it is a very compellling one, the idea that we can actually know how things really are. Well, it’s a hunt for the Snark — for the Snark “softly and suddenly and vanished away, for the Snark was a boojum, you see.” And that’s where you’ve got, I’m afraid.

    But — I was coming to the quotation from Dewey that Dennett puts at the heart of chapter 14:

    No account of the universe in terms merely of the redistribution of matter is complete, no matter how true as far as it goes, for it ignores the cardinal fact that the character of matter in motion and its redistribution is such as to cummulatively achieve ends — to effect the world of values we know. Deny this and you deny evolution; admit it and you admit purpose in the only objective — that is, the only intelligible — sense of that term. I do not say that in addition to the mechanism there are other ideal causes or factor which intervene. I only insist that the whole story be told, that the charcter of the mechanisms be noted — namely, that it is such as to produce and sustain good in a multiplicity of forms.

    Dennett’s comment on that is as follows:

    Note how carefully Dewey wended his way between the Scylla and Chrarybdis: no skyhooks (“no ideal causes or factors”) are called for, but we must not suppose that we can make sense of an uninterpreted version of evolution, an evolution with no functions endorsed, no meanings discerned.

    And then he goes on to speak of other evolutionary accounts of meaning, Ruth Millikan’s in particular, which, as he says, is “bristling with implications about the details of the other philosophical approaches to meaning mentioned above.”

    The point is that this is a very carefully crafted position. It may be wrong, but it cannot be dispensed with in the rather airy fashion suggested by Dr. Feser. It is, as he says of Millikan, bristling with qualifications and a fairly exhaustive use of intuition pumps.

  206. Another Matt
    23 August 2011 at 19:04 | #206

    Also note that there are an infinite number of other things that “tiger cub” “points to” hypothetically but which may never be possible to actualize, but about which we don’t know or understand the mechanism for yet:

    1) Roughly tiger-shaped lump of lead (in case of capture by alien wielding a weapon that performs atom-for-atom replacement)
    2) Infectious pile of goo (in case of hemorrhagic virus that attacks all types of tiger cell)
    3) Purple spotted tiger (in case of convincing instance of “grue” argument)

    I’m not sure what this means exactly, but I think it means that even in a teleological universe we still have a problem of induction because we learn what the plausible range of potentiality/telos/whatever are in the first place via empirical observation. I still think teleology is invoked to ensure more pleasant ontological dreams, but I don’t think it’s necessary.

  207. Steve Ruble
    23 August 2011 at 19:26 | #207

    dguller,

    While I was reading your objection to Hume, I got the feeling that turning to “teleology” for an account of causality and induction fails to actually avoid the point Hume makes. For example, you say,

    X stands facing into a void with nothing that points in any particular direction, and thus we can never say that Y will follow in reality, and are forced to just wait and see. Sure, we can impose our psychological projections upon X and imagine Y will happen, but there is nothing about X that causes Y to happen in reality. As he writes: “he now feels these events to be connected in his imagination” (p. 50).

    And you would say, I imagine, that when you claim that X is “directed toward” Y, you are not imposing your psychological projections upon X. But from where I stand, that is quite an apt description of what you seem to be doing. After all, you don’t have any more access to the actual fact of the matter about things which haven’t happened yet than I have, and you don’t have any metasenses that can detect the metaphysics and ensure that when you conclude that X is directed toward Y you are correct. In fact, you are stuck – like the rest of us – with the observations you can make of the regular correlations between events, which we all call – after we’ve found a convincing pattern – causation. I don’t see how your possession of a particular metaphysical hypothesis relieves you of the problem that your hypothesis may be wrong.

    If it was a legitimate move to declare by fiat that we can so detect “final causes” or “directedness” or whatever, it couldn’t fail to be a legitimate move to declare that we can detect efficient causes as well, which would nicely undercut the rationale for final causes. We could just say, “Look, X causes Y because it has causiness which makes it cause Y.” I suppose that you’ll want to say that causiness is really teleological, not efficient, because it “points beyond X to the causing of Y”… but at that point I think it’s pretty obvious that you would be describing it in the way you preferred, not picking out some kind of “real” metaphysical property.

    That is Hume’s position, and it is a radical one that would nullify all science, because he says that, because we never directly experience the underlying laws of nature, but only their surface manifestations, then there are no laws of nature in reality, but only in our imagination. Try to tell any scientist that the laws of nature that they discover are imaginary fantasies, and see how seriously they will take you.

    That’s rather unfair. Try to tell any scientist that the laws of nature they discover are absolute certainties which work by directing entities to fulfill their final ends and see how seriously they take you. Anyway, I’m pretty sure Hume’s point is epistemological, not metaphysical; what he’s pointing out is that it’s a mistake to confuse the “laws of nature” which we formulate from observation with the actual Laws of Nature about which we do not have the wherewithal to form any conclusions. And while some scientists may make that mistake, I’m pretty sure that many if not most of them are comfortable with the distinction.

    So, there are no laws of nature, except in the imagination of scientists. That’s surely a solid foundation for science.

    Well, it’s worked so far. There’s a bit of a, ahem, correlation between the thought of Hume and the birth of modern science, while the correlation between Aristotle and modern science is a little weaker.

  208. 23 August 2011 at 19:44 | #208

    A relevant quotation:

    “It will not be humans who witness the demise of the Sun six billion years hence: it will be entities as different from us as we are from bacteria.” – Sir Martin Rees, Astronomer-royal

    “Final causes” meets the law of large numbers…. ;-)

  209. dguller
    23 August 2011 at 20:43 | #209

    Steve:

    After all, you don’t have any more access to the actual fact of the matter about things which haven’t happened yet than I have, and you don’t have any metasenses that can detect the metaphysics and ensure that when you conclude that X is directed toward Y you are correct. In fact, you are stuck – like the rest of us – with the observations you can make of the regular correlations between events, which we all call – after we’ve found a convincing pattern – causation. I don’t see how your possession of a particular metaphysical hypothesis relieves you of the problem that your hypothesis may be wrong.

    You are absolutely correct that I may be wrong about whether X causes Y. However, it does not follow that the general framework is incorrect. That would be like saying that if we are wrong about saying that X causes Y, then causation itself is incorrect. The big difference is that Hume says that you are always wrong when you infer causal relationships, because they are always in your imagination, and I am saying that you are occasionally wrong, but could possibly be correct!

    And metaphysics is ultimately about this general framework within which we can understand anything at all. My contention is that abandoning teleology, in the sense that we have been discussing, makes understanding itself impossible.

    If it was a legitimate move to declare by fiat that we can so detect “final causes” or “directedness” or whatever, it couldn’t fail to be a legitimate move to declare that we can detect efficient causes as well, which would nicely undercut the rationale for final causes. We could just say, “Look, X causes Y because it has causiness which makes it cause Y.” I suppose that you’ll want to say that causiness is really teleological, not efficient, because it “points beyond X to the causing of Y”… but at that point I think it’s pretty obvious that you would be describing it in the way you preferred, not picking out some kind of “real” metaphysical property.

    It is not an either/or, I believe. Efficient causality necessarily involves final causality, because efficient causes simply actualize the potential within a substance, and that is only possible, because that potential pointed beyond itself, prior to actualization, towards a possible outcome, and that is the final cause. In other words, you cannot have efficient causality without final causality, and vice versa.

    That’s rather unfair. Try to tell any scientist that the laws of nature they discover are absolute certainties which work by directing entities to fulfill their final ends and see how seriously they take you.

    Laws of nature do not have to be absolute certainties. In fact, history shows that our understanding of natural laws is fallible and often in need of revision. However, this does not undermine the fact that scientists seek out natural laws, and not just what their imaginations project onto a flux. To argue otherwise would be like saying that if I am occasionally wrong about what I perceive, such as if I am hallucinating, then it is impossible to perceive anything independent of myself, which is fallacious. There is an independent world that we try to understand, even if we fail to on occasion, and there are natural laws that regulate that world, even if we are occasionally wrong about them.

    Anyway, I’m pretty sure Hume’s point is epistemological, not metaphysical; what he’s pointing out is that it’s a mistake to confuse the “laws of nature” which we formulate from observation with the actual Laws of Nature about which we do not have the wherewithal to form any conclusions. And while some scientists may make that mistake, I’m pretty sure that many if not most of them are comfortable with the distinction.

    He is making a metaphysical statement about what exists in the universe. He claims that X is real if and only if X is traced to a sensory experience, and that is a metaphysical claim, because this cannot be confirmed by our senses, much like the falsification criteria cannot be falsified. As such, it is metaphysical, because it is beyond empirical verification.

    He did not have to go to such elaborate metaphysical lengths to just remind people that scientists are occasionally wrong in their conclusions about how nature works. Instead, he argued that nature does not work at all, but only does so in our imaginations.

    Well, it’s worked so far. There’s a bit of a, ahem, correlation between the thought of Hume and the birth of modern science, while the correlation between Aristotle and modern science is a little weaker.

    Says who? Modern science can probably be traced to the late medieval period, and fully came into fruition around the time of Newton (1642-1727). The Royal Society was formed in 1660, in fact. Hume lived from 1711-1776. In other words, science was already flourishing in multiple organizations and conducting numerous seminal experiments to uncover the laws of nature using the scientific method even before Hume was born. He certainly was well regarded in his time as a historian. Perhaps you can dig up exactly how Hume influenced modern science?

  210. Another Matt
    23 August 2011 at 22:05 | #210

    Before I reply — someone speak up if you’re finding my posts annoying — this is a long thread and I hesitate to make it longer and more irritating for being so. I’ve learned a lot from this thread, including that I might have been an insufferable philosophy major had that been my path.

    The big difference is that Hume says that you are always wrong when you infer causal relationships, because they are always in your imagination, and I am saying that you are occasionally wrong, but could possibly be correct!

    Is he saying that you’re always wrong because you can’t know when you’re correct or incorrect about a causal inference? I’m having a very hard time imagining what the epistemological difference is between a world with metaphysical capital-C causation and obligatory methodological agnosticism regarding causation, and a world with both metaphysical and epistemological uncertainty. I think both worlds would appear the same, but maybe in one we’d have a little less Weltschmerz and would try a little harder. PS – I think that a world with miracles is a world without any confidence in causation.

    Perhaps you can dig up exactly how Hume influenced modern science?

    Whatever the truth about Hume is, count me among the Athomists.

  211. 24 August 2011 at 01:34 | #211

    RH,

    Sorry for the delay in replying — was gone much of yesterday and today.

    We need to distinguish two questions: first, what is good for a thing, human beings included; and second, why should a human being care to do what is good for him. The so-called “naturalistic fallacy” objection would be relevant to both.

    My earlier remarks were primarily concerned with the first question. And here I don’t see that you have really raised any objection at all, at least given the truth of an Aristotelian metaphysics. (And the points I as making above all presuppose Aristotelian metaphysics — the point was to explain how ethics proceeds given such a metaphysics, not to defend the metaphysics itself, something I have of course done elsewhere.)

    In particular, IF it is true as a matter of objective, mind-independent fact that animals have essences and that those essences involve being naturally directed to certain ends, then asking “Why suppose it is good for a lion to nourish her cubs?” or “Why is it good for a human being not to become an alcoholic?” is like asking “Why is a Euclidean triangle drawn carefully with a straight edge a better triangle than quickly one sketched freehand?” It’s not a matter of our subjective valuations that the first triangle is a “good” triangle (in the sense of a good specimen) and the second a bad one. It follows from the facts about what it is to be a triangle. And in precisely the same way, it isn’t a matter of our subjective valuations that a lioness that feeds her young or a human being who is free from a compulsion to drink is “better” in the sense of being a better specimen (i.e. healthier, closer to the norm determined by the nature of the organism and what is conducive to its flourishing, etc.). To pretend that this is somehow subjective is essentially to pretend that biological descriptions are subjective — that we call a dog with all of its legs or without cancer “better” than one which has been injured or that has cancer because we like them that that way. But of course, that’s absurd — the descriptions track real features of the organisms themselves, not merely our descriptive practices. (Of course, someone might differ over whether some particular trait really flows from the nature of the thing, but that’s not to the present point. Whatever the features turn out to be, there will be some or other, which is all that matters for the present point.)

    Now, again, so far that much is not yet a moral sense of “good.” But as I have said, the moral sense is for the Aristotelian just a special case of this more general sense. And this more general sense has clear objective content. Everyone knows what it means to call a well-drawn triangle a better triangle than a badly-drawn one, what it means to call a four-legged dog a better dog than one which has had a leg cut off, and so forth; and everyone knows that these are in no way subjective claims but perfectly objective ones that reflect a knowledge of the norm conveyed by the natures of the things in question.

    Now reason, like any other natural capacity has — IF Aristotelian metaphysics is correct — an inherent teleology, a natural orientation. And the Aristotelian would argue that the natural end of theoretical reason is the grasp of the natures of things and the good for them (in the sense just defined) given that nature; and that the natural end of practical reason is the pursuit of that good. So, asking “Why should a human being pursue what is good for him” is like asking “Why should a Euclidean triangle have three straight sides?” (Obviously you might challenge such claims about the natural ends of reason, but that’s a secondary point. What I’m trying to answer is your apparent view that even given such ends we’d have a “naturalistic fallacy.”)

    Now you might say that this is really all somehow just subjective, but what I do not see is how you could have a reason for doing so that doesn’t simply presuppose a Humean metaphysics. In particular, I think that in order to avoid the result that there are at least some standards of goodness that are objective in the sense in question, you would have to presuppose some sort of nominalism on which all essences are just Humean “relations of ideas,” sheer creations of the human mind (good luck doing that coherently and consistently). In any case, what you can’t do is say that even given an Aristotelian metaphysics, statements about what is good or bad of the sort made above are somehow subjective valuations ungrounded in facts. At least, I see no argument to this effect. You seem to me merely to be presupposing the idea that to call something good is merely to evince some subjective reaction to it. And that does not answer my claims at all. It certainly isn’t a plausible response to the claim that a Euclidean triangle drawn with a straight edge is objectively better qua triangle to one that is quickly drawn freehand, or that a lioness that nourishes her young is objectively better qua lioness than one which kills every cub she bears. And if you say “OK, but these judgments of better and worse, though objective, are not better or worse in a sense relevant to morality, ” then you’re just begging the question against the Aristotelian from a slightly different angle. Because in fact that sort of conception of good — moral good as a special case of the sense of “good” operative in the notion of a “good specimen” of a kind of thing — is the conception that was operative in the whole classical tradition (whether Platonic, Aristotelian, or Scholastic) before the moderns abandoned it in favor of this subjectivist Humean conception that so many people now take for granted.

    As to evolution, you are implicitly assuming that there is such a thing as “the science” that somehow delivers the answers to the metaphysical questions underlying this debate. And that is just what the Aristotelian denies. I’ve noted elsewhere in this combox discussion why the Aristotelian argues that physics cannot possibly be by itself the whole truth about material reality, but needs to be understood in light of an adequate metaphysics. The same thing is true of evolution. And in both cases the correct metaphysics is Aristotelian. The idea that evolution somehow does away with any kind of biological essentialism (and thus any conception of the good of the sort discussed above) really rests not on empirical argumentation, but rather on naturalistic metaphysical assumptions that are read into the empirical evidence.

    That’s just an outline. For more on the naturalistic fallacy, the Aristotelian conception of the good, etc., see chapter 5 of my book Aquinas and/or the article I linked to in my third post on MacDonald at my blog. For the most thorough recent defense of bringing an Aristotelian metaphysics to bear on modern science (including biology) see David Oderberg’s Real Essentialism.

  212. 24 August 2011 at 02:18 | #212

    Michael Fugate: Don’t try to pull rank on me; it’s an asshat maneuver. And, as it turns out, I have a PhD in Philosophy focusing on philosophy of biology — which means that, while I don’t doubt you know more about the details practical biology than I do, I know more about teleology (and ontology, and metaphysics, and epistemology, and…) than you do. And given that many working scientists don’t study the history of their own field, I might (or might not, depending on your inclinations) know more about the conceptual foundations and development of evolutionary biology than you do. (Hell, I read Dobzhansky in high school out of sheer curiosity!) The role and meaning of teleological explanation in biology is a subject of long and sometimes bitter dispute among both working biologists and philosophers of biology, so you don’t get to declare that your view is correct by sheer authority; you have to make arguments just like anyone else. The argument you offered consisted in an analogy that was wildly oversimplifying. I offered a cogent counterargument. You responded with a posturing display of ego. I am not impressed, and I doubt anyone else reading is either.

    Rick Longworth: I think you’re reading with a sieve of your own preconceptions, but I also think my analogy was imperfect in the way you noted. Upon further thought, a soil sieve picks out just some physical properties (size, shape) in much the same way that selection picks out just some physical properties. But the real difference in the explanation I offered, which you seem to have overlooked, is that natural selection filters not just by physical properties: After all, the physical property of being able to break down nylon was NOT subject to any natural selection before the bacteria in question were introduced to an environment containing nylon. What, then, causes the “sieve” to change from one environment to the next? How does it change? Why does it change? Natural selection is a very picky, goal-oriented sort of sieve: It doesn’t filter based on just any old physical property that an organism might have, it only selects those physical properties that have some sort of impact on an organism’s reproductive success compared to other organisms in a given ecosystem — which means that what makes it through the sieve is adaptive, i.e. functional.

    The evidence convinces me — including evidence from this thread — that the hostility to teleological language is based on old misconceptions about the nature of teleology. Teleology need not be mysterious: Teleology (despite the efforts of some theologians to claim otherwise) does not necessary require, entail, or imply mind or purpose or intention. Teleology does not in any way defy or transcend mechanistic cause and effect: In contrast, the origin and refinement of function is a predictable and inevitable consequence of the cause-and-effect filtering mechanisms of natural selection. Every time biologists describe traits as adaptations, they are using teleological language whether they admit it or not — so all they achieve by denying the teleological nature of the concepts they use is conceptual confusion.

  213. DiscoveredJoys
    24 August 2011 at 05:30 | #213

    Eric:

    And it doesn’t seem to me that dguller would disagree with you: being a launch pad for growth to an adult is all the directionality he needs for his argument, and you’re conceding this to him.

    Fascinating debate isn’t it? I certainly don’t concede directionality – you are right to have pointed this out. Perhaps the summary paragraph was too oversimplified.

    My contention was that if you take a tiger cub as a particular ‘prior state’, at a specific point in time, after some unguided processes it will become a ‘post state’. Repeat. The tiger cub p[rior state may become (as others have said) a post state dead tiger cub, or a fur rug, or something else’s meal, or an adult tiger which may or may not breed successfully, but there is no goal, only an unfolding of processes.

    If there was any ‘direction’ at all I suppose you could argue that entropy increases overall, but I don’t think the teleology supporters will want to argue that increasing disorder and the heat death of the universe is a ‘goal’.

  214. Steve Ruble
    24 August 2011 at 08:15 | #214

    I agree with Another Matt: I don’t know what the point is of declaring that the world is metaphysically teleological when such a declaration gives you no more insight into how the world actually works than you had before. You say,

    The big difference is that Hume says that you are always wrong when you infer causal relationships, because they are always in your imagination, and I am saying that you are occasionally wrong, but could possibly be correct!

    but you give us no reason to think that you have any more ability to tell when you are actually correct than anyone else has; you just have the ability to say that you could be. Unfortunately, again, you’re insisting that your definition – in this case of “causal relationship” – is the only one that is any good or that has any utility. Hume says that you’re wrong to infer causal relationships if you mean metaphysical Causal Relationships, but if all you mean by causal relationship is “constant conjunction” or something similar – something meaning that in your experience X is always followed by Y – you can, obviously, be correct or incorrect. Moreover, you can also be correct or incorrect when you infer that such conjunction will occur in the future – you just need to wait and find out – and correct or incorrect when you hypothesize that it will be found everywhere at all times. You can’t be certain, of course, but you can’t ever be certain anyway, so it’s not as if you’re losing anything. In terms of the predictions you can make about future events, you’re on exactly the same epistemic footing whether or not you include some superstructure of “teleology” to make it seem like your conclusions are more tightly bound to the world.

    My contention is that abandoning teleology, in the sense that we have been discussing, makes understanding itself impossible.

    No, it doesn’t – not on my understanding of “understanding”. You’re free to define out of existence if you like by making it depend on the usage of teleological words, but it’s pretty obvious that you’re just encumbering the definition with unnecessary concepts; it’s not as though possession of “understanding” in your terms allows one to do anything more in terms of discussing the observable, physical world than does possession of normal, everyday understanding.

    There is an independent world that we try to understand, even if we fail to on occasion, and there are natural laws that regulate that world, even if we are occasionally wrong about them.

    Well, it’s an appealing hypothesis – certainly, I base my life on it – but you write as if you’ve actually verified it, and I really can’t see how you could have done that.

    With regard to Hume and modern science, my point was only that Hume’s thought has had several hundred years to undermine the foundations of modern science, starting way back when modern science was very young, and it hasn’t done any damage yet.

  215. dguller
    24 August 2011 at 08:57 | #215

    Another Matt:

    Is he saying that you’re always wrong because you can’t know when you’re correct or incorrect about a causal inference? I’m having a very hard time imagining what the epistemological difference is between a world with metaphysical capital-C causation and obligatory methodological agnosticism regarding causation, and a world with both metaphysical and epistemological uncertainty. I think both worlds would appear the same, but maybe in one we’d have a little less Weltschmerz and would try a little harder.

    It is like conceiving of the difference between whether the external world objectively exists, or if solipsism is true. From an epistemological perspective, they are the same, because – or so the thought experiment goes – the subject has the same subjective experiences whether the world exists or not. However, when the subject perceives a cat, then this is a true perception in the case of an external world where a cat is within that subject’s perceptual range, but is a false perception if solipsism is true, because there is no cat at all, because there is nothing outside the individual.

    It is the same situation if Hume is correct, and we want to apply causal explanations that aim to uncover the underlying principles and laws that govern the behavior of what we observe. Hume argues that because we never actually observe these laws directly, they do not exist, and so any talk of causal regularity that involves natural laws is ultimately a projection of the human mind upon the flux of nature, which is just one thing happening after another without any underlying order or patterns. So, when you say that X causes Y, then you are always wrong, because X did not do anything to bring Y about, but only seemed to precede the existence of Y. You would always have correlation, but never causation. You might as well say that the night causes the day under this framework, which is ridiculous.

    Whatever the truth about Hume is, count me among the Athomists.

    That’s fine. 

  216. dguller
    24 August 2011 at 09:27 | #216

    Steve:

    you give us no reason to think that you have any more ability to tell when you are actually correct than anyone else has; you just have the ability to say that you could be.

    Regardless of what metaphysical framework you prefer, the mechanism by which we actually uncover the laws of nature is by ordinary and scientific inquiry. However, according to Aristotle, you could possibly be right about the laws of nature, but according to Hume, you are always wrong, because you always confuse your imaginary fantasy of order with a real order in nature, which is never presented as a sense impression.

    Unfortunately, again, you’re insisting that your definition – in this case of “causal relationship” – is the only one that is any good or that has any utility. Hume says that you’re wrong to infer causal relationships if you mean metaphysical Causal Relationships, but if all you mean by causal relationship is “constant conjunction” or something similar – something meaning that in your experience X is always followed by Y – you can, obviously, be correct or incorrect. Moreover, you can also be correct or incorrect when you infer that such conjunction will occur in the future – you just need to wait and find out – and correct or incorrect when you hypothesize that it will be found everywhere at all times. You can’t be certain, of course, but you can’t ever be certain anyway, so it’s not as if you’re losing anything. In terms of the predictions you can make about future events, you’re on exactly the same epistemic footing whether or not you include some superstructure of “teleology” to make it seem like your conclusions are more tightly bound to the world.

    Once again, read what Hume is actually saying. He is saying that there is nothing about X that brings about Y (i.e. no power or energy or whatever), but only that X has always preceded Y. As I said earlier, under that conception, the night causes the day, but this is obviously absurd, and is indicative of correlation, but not causation. In order to have a genuine causal relationship, then there must be something about X that consistently brings about Y, which is something that Hume denies. And if you think that there is no fundamental difference between correlation and causation, then you may as well tell scientists, because they will be quite surprised, seeing as how they are always going to great lengths to differentiate between them in their explanations of how the world works.

    Again, the difference is whether there are actual underlying patterns or laws of nature that are always operating to cause the observed world around us. Hume says no, and you seem to believe that they exist, which means that you reject Hume’s metaphysics, which is good, because it is ridiculous. Now, if you accept such underlying laws of nature, then the question is whether they involve teleology, in the sense that we have been discussing. My contention is that all causal relationships involve the transition from potential to actualization, and that all potentiality involves an inherent pointing beyond the actual towards a specific possible outcome. And that potentiality is partly where we discover the laws of nature, because they are not just about what is happening right now, but about what will happen in the future, which means that what is happening now points towards the future as a possible outcome, and that this is an inherent part of nature, and not an imposition of our minds.

    No, it doesn’t – not on my understanding of “understanding”. You’re free to define out of existence if you like by making it depend on the usage of teleological words, but it’s pretty obvious that you’re just encumbering the definition with unnecessary concepts; it’s not as though possession of “understanding” in your terms allows one to do anything more in terms of discussing the observable, physical world than does possession of normal, everyday understanding.

    Not at all. If you want to have natural laws, then you must have a directedness in nature towards the possible actualization of certain potential outcomes. Without this directedness, then you are stuck with Hume’s ontology in which nothing exists except particular events that have no connection with one another, and if there is no real connection between them, then you cannot make universal statements about a group of particulars and classify or categorize them, which simply means that there is a common set of connections between particular substances. And without universal statements, then you cannot understand anything at all, because understanding is about uncovering general principles operating to generate particular outcomes.

    Well, it’s an appealing hypothesis – certainly, I base my life on it – but you write as if you’ve actually verified it, and I really can’t see how you could have done that.

    The existence of an external world is a metaphysical postulate, because it cannot be confirmed empirically. After all, all empirical observations can be understood within a solipsistic or non-solipsistic framework, and thus cannot determine whether one or the other is true. And there are good philosophical reasons that make me more sure of the latter than the former, but they are not empirical or scientific at all.

    With regard to Hume and modern science, my point was only that Hume’s thought has had several hundred years to undermine the foundations of modern science, starting way back when modern science was very young, and it hasn’t done any damage yet.

    That’s because people do not read Hume properly, and fail to understand just how much his system undermines scientific knowledge. They read into his conclusions some reasonable ideas, such as the limitations of inductive inferences, and the need for empirical verification to ground our statements into the world, and the importance of including probability in our reasoning, and so on, but they do not do so on Humean grounds at all, because they would undermine science altogether. As Feser says, most scientists are philosophically illiterate, and have picked up certain philosophical ideas by osmosis or casual reading without truly understanding the issues involved. That is how a physicist can say that the universe was created from “nothing”, as if was an ex nihilo event that philosophers talk about. However, their “nothing” is actually zero point energy, and so is certainly something, even if it is not a thing, because it is energy. After all, energy is not nothing.

  217. rick longworth
    24 August 2011 at 09:51 | #217

    (I mean this comment to show up in reference to Primates August 24, 2:18)

    “But the real difference in the explanation I offered, which you seem to have overlooked, is that natural selection filters not just by physical properties.”

    I think I have to disagree. Natural selection comes in several parts. Mutations occur producing a diversified population, the environment filters or sorts the population relative to the differences in phenotype, replication and inheritance ensure that some part of the diversified population is eliminated from future generations. These parts are all just by physical properties. You have not explained why this is not the case.

    “After all, the physical property of being able to break down nylon was NOT subject to any natural selection before the bacteria in question were introduced to an environment containing nylon.”

    The mutation which allows the digestion of nylon occurs at random altering the
    DNA and the proteins produced during growth. This involves only physical properties. The environment changing due to the spilling of nylon stockings into the Pacific creates a change to the environment of the bacteria and does not require special new forces to explain. At this point the bacteria encounter a new source of nutrition and gorge on the tender filaments like pasta. Again no concept of motivation, emotion, look-ahead, intentionality, ends, goals, or purposes need be invoked to explain these phenomena.

    I think the conceptual confusion comes from your side of the debate. Biologists have a common sense idea of teleology which does imply intentionality. They reject it for very good reasons. Your definition, coming from a philosophical perspective, assumes a definition which uses words like goals, ends, purposes, etc. which sound like intentionality is involved but then go on to deny it. The terms goals, ends, purposes, functions, etc all are strongly associated with a human perspective on nature, and at the time of Aristotle this was probably quite a reasonable way of looking at things. During a time when forces like gravity and phenomena like inertia, had to wait centuries for Galileo and Newton to explain, physical things needed some push to make them behave as they did. It was supposed, just as humans need emotional motives to do things that perhaps the flight of an arrow needed encouragement through knowing the earth was its mother to which it must always return, or knowing its proper end was in the chest of an enemy soldier. In other words, emotion, motive, and intention were borrowed from the seemingly familiar set of reasons for things with in a human psychological context for use in explaining matter in motion. The language you are using is rooted in a deeply superstitious, pre-scientific time. Whatever relevance or truth your notions contain don’t stand much chance given so much baggage.

    So, for scientists, these terms sound like a nostalgic return to something from the childhood of human intellectual thought. If you want to avoid the sales resistance you will have to drop all such language suggestive of human motivation and intention and revert to modern science, which describes nature in terms of matter and energy operating within the uncontaminated laws of nature.

  218. dguller
    24 August 2011 at 10:20 | #218

    Another Matt:

    It possesses “directedness” toward all of these other things according to its nature. I’m pretty sure dguller, if I understand correctly, would not consider this controversial, maybe only a little whimsical. But I’m not as sure about those like Prof. Feser, who seem to want to say that the things I mentioned aren’t part of the cub’s natural teleology because they aren’t proper goals for a “tiger qua tiger” — the “natural essence” of a tiger does not point to these things. Someone might say that your “exterior agency” is the driving factor with some of my examples, but note that for tiger cub to become tiger there also has to be some external agency (the tiger has to feed; it relies on gut flora for metabolism, and so forth).

    Nothing here that I would dispute, actually. As I said earlier, I have no problem with multiple possible ends for an entity to be genuine, and that depending upon one’s perspective, different ends will become manifest to our understanding.

  219. dguller
    24 August 2011 at 10:40 | #219

    Eric:

    As he says: “I would respond that all capabilities are capabilities that point in the direction of specific possible outcomes, and thus inherently involve teleology in this sense.” And I think this is just nonsense. For these capabilities must be, in a sense, present in the original carbon atoms that went to make up the first organic compounds which in turn became the first living cells, and must be inherent in the hydrogen atoms that fuse to create helium which in turn creates beryllium which, if the temperature is high enough, some 100 million degrees Kelvin, to form a stable form of carbon if the there is enough berylliun around to fuse with a third helium nucleus.

    Not necessarily. I am fully committed to the possibility of emergent processes from more basic processes, and those emergent processes would be invisible from the perspective of the basic processes. That is why I find Dennett’s stances quite useful, because they are supposed to pick out real patterns in the world, but say that one must adopt particular perspectives in order to be able to observe them at all, and that what is invisible to one stance is clearly visible to another. So, the behavior of carbon atoms is directed by the nature of carbon atoms, and that is all you can see from this perspective. If you then pan out and look at molecules composed of carbon, then you see other properties that were invisible at the atomic level. And if you pan out further, then you see more properties, and on and on. All of these behavioral properties are real, and all of them involve teleology in the sense of directedness towards the possible actualization of certain potential outcomes, but what those possible outcomes are varies, depending upon the stance and perspective that one adopts.

    You seem to think that it all has to already prefigured within a carbon atom to be able to become a human being, and I would say that that is true, but not from the perspective of the carbon atom. It would be clear from the perspective of a human being, for example. And that is also why I object to the idea of a singular Final Cause to all substances, because the teleological directedness that all substances exhibit have multiple levels of analysis and explanation, and there is no level of explanation that is more privileged than the others, because they all seem to pick out real patterns in nature, and not just imaginary projections of our minds.

    And if you take teleology back this far, you are committed — dguller says no, but I think this is simply wrong — to some kind of theistic solution. Dr. Feser wants us to believe that evolution and theism are separate issues, and can be dealt with independently, and dguller has oblingingly said yes; but I think this is just wishful thinking.

    You can surely think that, but I don’t think it follows. Teleology can be an intrinsic part of nature, much like “charge” and “spin” are intrinsic parts of subatomic phenomena. It is an observable part of the natural world, and we must take it into consideration in our modeling of that world. The only thing that follows from this is possibly a First Cause in the sense of Pure Act to underlie all the change that we observe, and that makes it possible to begin with. I think that this is a reasonable argument, although it is possible that quantum mechanics undermines a key premise, but intuitions vary on this issue. And I actually have no problem with this, no more than I have a problem with Spinoza’s “God”. What I disagree with is that this First Cause or Pure Act has any mental properties consistent with a conscious intelligence, and that is what the teleological argument is supposed to show. I don’t think it does, being based upon an equivocation and an analogy, neither of which I find convincing. So, if there is a First Cause that is a mindless pulsating generator of reality that does not care about us or have any grand Final Causes, then what is the objection to such a thing? You might as well object to “energy” and “force”, because they sound spooky and supernatural, even though they are anything but.

    Dguller has said, and has said again and again, that even such particles as electrons have direction and purpose, and this is shown (apparently?) by the trajectory they subsequently take. But this is as close to nonsense as I think you can get. What does it mean?

    It means that actual electrons have the potential to behave in particular ways, and that electrons, by their nature, point beyond themselves towards the direction of possibly actualizing these potential outcomes. Say an actual electron is in the ground state of a shell surrounding a nucleus. At that moment, the electron has the potential to shift to higher electron shells if sufficient energy is added to the electron. It has not yet shifted position, and only has the potential to, but while it sits in the ground state, it points beyond the ground state towards the possibility of the higher state, if energy is added. And this is not just an imposition of the mind, but rather a real fact of the matter that would be true even if humans had never evolved.

    Now, you can call this phenomenon, its “end” or “purpose” or “goal”, or whatever. All of these terms have drawbacks, because they all connote a conscious intent guiding the process. However, so does “natural selection”, and yet it continues to be used, as long as one understands that it is a mindless natural process. It would be like continuing to use the word “dog”, even though one knows that it occasionally can be used to mean something other than a canine mammal. So, to avoid confusion, I prefer to use Aristotle’s term “final cause”, because it is a technical philosophical term, and not an ordinary word co-opted for a philosophical purpose, which runs the risk of unconsciously including other meanings not intended.

    Perhaps you would prefer to call this phenomenon something else to avoid confusion? Can we at least agree that such a phenomenon is a real one?

  220. 24 August 2011 at 11:07 | #220

    Rick. I think this is the central point here:

    The language you are using is rooted in a deeply superstitious, pre-scientific time. Whatever relevance or truth your notions contain don’t stand much chance given so much baggage.

    If we ascribe purpose or intention to things, it is because, as Anne Hannah says, our language is infected with intentional language. But it does not follow that speaking about the inherent directedness of things as such makes sense. In Dennett’s quotation from Dewey that I put in an earlier comment, Dewey speaks of “the character of matter in motion and of its redistribution is such as cumulatively to achieve ends — to effect the world of values that we know.” In other words, as I understand this, it is retrospectively interpretable as teleological. It is impossible, in using the language of teleology, to completely separate it from its dependence on earlier metaphysical notions of teleology, in which the directedness and purpose is inherent in things, and this, while conveniently heuristic, is not true to the facts as we see them. Characteristics of organisms are not sorted for function, but for success.

    I am trying very hard to understand the point that ThePhilosophicalPrimate is making. Indeed, I thought that I did, but after rereading several times James Lennox’s essay “Teleology”, I’m not so sure. At the end of that essay there are various suggested ways of understanding teleology in a non-inherentist way, but none of them satisfy me, and the disagreement as to how teleological language is to be understood so as to avoid theological consequences is disquieting. (Feser and Guller would suggest, perhaps, that we should follow the argument where it leads. But what is disquieting is not that it leads to theological conclusions, but that theological conclusions explain nothing.) But why do we need it as a description of the world as it is apart from us? It is simply not clear to me that we do. Surely, Dennett’s intentional stance is the best way to resolve the issue. We can take different stances towards the world, and, by taking them, we seem to be attributing certain powers to natural things, as when I argue with my GPS “who” sometimes wants to take me in by routes that I have already decided not to follow. But it does not follow that they have those powers. Is this incoherent as Feser suggests? If it is, his argument, such as it is, does not convince me.

  221. Michael Fugate
    24 August 2011 at 11:25 | #221

    You know nothing about me – you just assumed I knew nothing and know you assume I know nothing about philosophy. What arrogance.

    Nylonase gene example – the hell it isn’t. The nylonase gene would be under selection no matter if nylon were present or not. It is part of the genome of the organism and the whole organism is under selection not its individual parts. If the gene is turned on and produces a protein, then there is a potential cost to the organism. In the absence of nylon, the individual will likely have a lower fitness compared to an individual who does not have a functioning gene. Genes are not separate from individuals.

    My analogy is a simplification, but not an oversimplification – you just don’t know what you are talking about.

  222. 24 August 2011 at 11:40 | #222

    Dguller said:

    That’s because people do not read Hume properly, and fail to understand just how much his system undermines scientific knowledge. They read into his conclusions some reasonable ideas, such as the limitations of inductive inferences, and the need for empirical verification to ground our statements into the world, and the importance of including probability in our reasoning, and so on, but they do not do so on Humean grounds at all, because they would undermine science altogether.

    This is a more or less complete misunderstanding of Hume. In his Abstract of his Treatise, he says that so far as the inner nature of what we observe,

    … we can never penetrate so far into the essence and construction of bodies, as to perceive the principle, on which their mutual influence is founded. ‘Tis their constant union alone, with which we are acquainted; and ’tis from the constant union the necessity arises, when the mind is determined to pass from one object to its usual attendant, and infer the existence of one from that of the other. Here then are two particulars, which we are to regard as essential to necessity, viz. the constant union and the inference of the mind; and whenever we discover these we must acknowledge a necessity.

    This is a summary of the discussion of “ultimate connexion” in Book 2, Part 3, of the Treatise, and certainly does not, in any sense, undermine science. This is merely to suggest that empricisim undermines science. We may want to amend Hume’s language, since his representationalism is no longer considered to be an adequate understanding of the objects of ideation and belief, but it is simply wrong to think that Hume’s philosophy in any way undermines the scientific project. In fact, by getting away from the kind of ultimate connexions that produced certainty but not knowledge, Hume’s philosophy made a direct contribution to the understanding of science.

  223. dguller
    24 August 2011 at 11:49 | #223

    Eric:

    It is impossible, in using the language of teleology, to completely separate it from its dependence on earlier metaphysical notions of teleology, in which the directedness and purpose is inherent in things, and this, while conveniently heuristic, is not true to the facts as we see them. Characteristics of organisms are not sorted for function, but for success.

    The way that I see it is that you have a few choices here. There is the fact of order and regularity in nature, and that natural substances operate according to natural laws, which govern their behavior in a predictable and reliable fashion.

    How does this happen?

    Three options:

    (1) This directedness is within the nature of the substance.
    (2) This directedness is imposed from without by a director.
    (3) This directedness is an illusory projection of the human imagination.

    We both reject (2), and so that leaves (1) and (3) are possible options.

    I prefer (1), because (3) has a number of bizarre implications. For example, if X always causes Y to occur, then what happens when X comes around again? According to (3), there is nothing about X that points in the direction of Y happening, because is what (1) affirms. So, then how can we understand X reliably causing Y to occur if X does not have anything about it that points in the direction of Y’s occurring?

    According to such a framework, there is no connecting thread that binds events into a coherent framework, but rather only particular events that stand completely independently of one another, much like Leibniz’s monads. Perhaps the coherent framework that we experience is due to some “pre-established harmony”? Is that a better explanation for the regularity in nature? If you admit any connecting thread between events, then you admit teleology in the sense that we are discussing. After all, any connection will necessarily point from one event to the other by virtue of the connection between them. Only denying any connection would have the result of (3), and that would also preclude the possibility of any laws of nature that guide the behavior of substances in the world, because a law of nature would be such a connecting thread that is operative at all times and in all substances.

    And that is why I believe that if you truly accept (3), then you have abolished not only science, but any human knowledge of the world, because our knowledge presupposes the identification of general principles that are operative in the phenomena that we observe. These principles are supposed to connect individual events into a coherent explanatory framework, which is impossible if (3) is true.

    I think that is a lot to give up, because (1) could possibly lead to (2). I don’t think it does, and so I can happily enjoy the fruits of (1) while avoiding the absurdities of (3).

  224. 24 August 2011 at 11:59 | #224

    But ‘sieve’ is being used here in a metaphorical way. Of course, we use sieves for sorting purposes. But why attribute sorting purpose to an environment which, if invested by bacteria, will “sort” mutations on the basis of survivability? It is precisely the question of use which is in question here, not only the sense of directionality. And why would it be incoherent to take the outcome of this (arguably) purely algorithmic process and speak of it in terms of sorting and direction?

  225. rick longworth
    24 August 2011 at 12:12 | #225

    I’d prefer to leave the “sieve” example with its association with human interventions and use the sorting that occurs on a beach. As the waves roll in they impart energy which sorts the sand and rock into bands or strata. Denser particles tend to be less jostled and so sort out in layers. The layers which can be easily seen as the denser are of a different color due to different mineral composition. This sorting is not in danger of being confused with intentional use of a sieve – an artifact of culture. The only forces at work at the macro level are wind/wave energy, gravity, friction, etc.
    The analogy to natural selection is limited but helpful. It models the differential elimination from a population by the environment, but not the self replication or inheritance which leads to long term change.

  226. dguller
    24 August 2011 at 12:13 | #226

    Eric:

    This is a summary of the discussion of “ultimate connexion” in Book 2, Part 3, of the Treatise, and certainly does not, in any sense, undermine science. This is merely to suggest that empricisim undermines science. We may want to amend Hume’s language, since his representationalism is no longer considered to be an adequate understanding of the objects of ideation and belief, but it is simply wrong to think that Hume’s philosophy in any way undermines the scientific project. In fact, by getting away from the kind of ultimate connexions that produced certainty but not knowledge, Hume’s philosophy made a direct contribution to the understanding of science.

    First, his representationalism is at the core of his critique of the necessary connection between a cause and its effect. Remember, he has just one argument against necessary connection, and it is that it can never be ultimately traced to sense impressions. That’s it. Everything else just builds upon this fundamental idea, and if you reject this idea, then you reject his conclusions from it. And also recall what his metaphysical principle of empiricism is supposed to be: “X exists if and only if our ideas of X can be ultimately traced to sense impressions”. Here are his words:

    “When we entertain, threfore, any suspicion, that a philosophical term is employed without any meaning or idea (as is but too frequent), we need but enquire, from what impression is that supposed idea derived? And if it be impossible to assign any, this will serve to confirm our suspicion” (p. 13).

    Why doesn’t necessary connection exist in reality, and is only an imposition of our minds? Because “necessary connection” can never be ultimately traced to sense impressions, which are only of particular empirical events. That’s it. That’s the argument. And I’m sure that you can see just how crappy an argument it is.

    Second, whatever follows for necessary connections also applies to laws of nature, because we they also fail his metaphysical principle. And without natural laws, there is no science, including one of human nature, which was Feser’s point about Hume in TLS: “And if there really are no essences, natures, or universals, what was the nominalist Hume doing writing a Treatise of Human Nature? Merely describing what happened to be going on in his own head circa 1739?” (pp. 140-1). Because that is what happens when you contend that all our concepts of natures, essences, energy, power, natural laws, and the rest, are just products of our imagination that do not exist in nature. And without such concepts, our scientific knowledge is more about our psychology than about the world, which would be news to scientists.

    Third, even his own metaphysical principle fails its own standard, and thus should be rejected as false.

    Fourth, even accepting that there are natures and necessary connections and teleology in nature does not imply that we are always right about what these natures and connections are. We can still be wrong, and so it has nothing to do with certainty. That much Hume got right, but for all the wrong reasons. We should be tentative in our conclusions, and know that they are fallible and open to revision in the face of new evidence. But the important point is that we could be right, which would be impossible, according to Hume, because whenever we talk about forces or energy or natural laws or causal connections, for example, then we are talking about our minds and not anything really in the world. All the key concepts of scientific knowledge must be thrown out, because none of them can be ultimately traced to sense impressions, which only perceives particular empirical events that are completely independent of one another, i.e. “one damned thing after another”.

    Fifth, it follows that it would take more than amending Hume’s language to save his system from collapsing into absurdity. You would have to reject his fundamental principle of empiricism, which would be wise, since it fails on a number of levels.

  227. 24 August 2011 at 12:30 | #227

    Oh, I’m sorry, this is just silly. This is not the way you go about assessing a philosopher, or the worth of his thought. (It may be from Feser’s rather lofty Aristotelian heights.) Sure, Hume was aware, himself, of a difficulty here, and he expresses it in the passage I quoted. But to go off from there floating in the rafters of criticism doesn’t face the real issue; for Hume’s foundational assumption, that what we know we know by experience and not by deduction, still holds, and it holds for science. Certainly, scientists discover laws — although laws are a bit harder to come by in biology — but they discover them because they are willing to put things to the test of experience — and the relationship of theoretical entities to experience has alwas been an issue in the philosophy of science. Hume’s is not a contemptible argument, but a real problem. How do we come to know the laws of science? (Hint: It is not by discerning the essences of things.) And the quote you take from Feser is truly contemptible. No, there are, in my view, no essenses, no universals, in the sense that Feser claims, and as Oderberg, another Catholic with axes to grind, holds. And Hume was not merely describing what was going on in his own head. He was, in fact, as it would prove, at least partly involved in what would come to be known as psychology. Get some historical perspective! However, really, life is too short for this!

    And, by the way, Hume did allow for deduction (relations of ideas), as well as experience (impressions) — the familiar analytic-synthetic distinction.

  228. Another Matt
    24 August 2011 at 12:32 | #228

    dguller,

    I confess that being a composer I’m at least as philosophically illiterate as a scientist, and I’m trying to remedy that slowly, between pieces; so I haven’t read Hume and I don’t know his metaphysics well or whether his metaphysics is implied by his epistemology, etc. — I can only engage what you’ve written about him here.

    Let’s frame it another way and see if we get a little closer to an understanding. What I’m about to propose will butt up against some questions from the mid 20th century (especially Quine’s two dogmas and the “is logic empirical” question discussed by Putnam et al.), but I’d like to leave that aside for a moment. A simplistic first approximation of a law of causation might be to say that C causes E is just to believe in a denial the presence of E and the simultaneous absence of C (which translates to “if E then C,” which is counterintuitive but it just means “if we find effect E then cause C had to have been there too”). We have to be careful with our language, adding accounts that require quantifiers, like “C sometimes causes E” and so forth. We can filter some correlation from causation if we find, upon observation, that the conditional seems to be unidirectional (if we find X sometimes without Y but never Y without X). And so it goes with empirical science all the time, in a much more complex form, right? To make a hypothesis is to propose some form of (usually complex) deductive conditional, but because of the induction problem one can only disprove it (find an instance where the conditional does not hold). Yes, there are all sorts of metaphysical values associated with determining which hypotheses and explanations are better formed as hypotheses and explanations (see Occam, the “grue” problem, etc.).

    In your account of Hume’s metaphysics, you say all of the above is not possible because belief in causation is never justified since (according to Hume) things just don’t have properties and behave in predictable ways because we don’t directly experience this law-like behavior through our senses, and only those things are real. Taken another way, though, I think it’s the same as saying that we simply can’t use deductive reasoning in our accounts of nature, so even proposing a hypothesis is nonsensical because hypotheses take the form of deductive conditionals. Teleology, the story goes, to the rescue, because it makes deduction possible and meaningful.

    I wonder if one would necessarily need to extend this to math and logic the way Prof. Feser has implicitly elsewhere by invoking triangles. You might say that the thought that we might wake up tomorrow and discover that the angles in a triangle add to 1.5pi radians and that pi has become 4.2526037… is ridiculous because the “discovery” of the properties of triangles and pi comes as the result of deductive reasoning from a set of axioms. The value of axioms is under review in the sense that a set of posited axioms may turn out to be incoherent when taken together under some rules of deduction. Anyway, you might also say (not to put words in your mouth) that the thought that we might wake up tomorrow and find that an electron has escaped from a lithium atom and gotten drunk and donned a pair of clown shoes is only possibly ridiculous given teleology because only with teleology could you even propose that those are not the kinds of things that electrons can do (since that’s a deductive conditional), and that given Humean metaphysics we’re so hobbled that we can’t make that hypothesis because deduction is meaningless, nor indeed can we even justifiably label patterns that we remember from last time (viz. “electron” in this example). I have my doubts that Hume went this far, but I won’t pretend to know Hume well enough to say this confidently.

    I think this all hinges on what you think Hume means by “is real.” If that’s a thoroughgoing ontological “is,” perhaps you’re right and his project is doomed. If it’s an epistemological “is” (imagine the phrase “taken as real”) then perhaps it’s saved after all. I don’t have anything personally riding on Hume being right.

  229. dguller
    24 August 2011 at 12:53 | #229

    Eric:

    Sure, Hume was aware, himself, of a difficulty here, and he expresses it in the passage I quoted.

    He was aware that his central principle of empiricism contained a self-contradiction, and led to absurd conclusions? Where in your quote did he say that?

    All your quote said is that our idea of necessary connection is rooted in our mental life, i.e. our memories of prior instances of X followed by Y (“constant union”), and our imagination that projects X continuing to be followed by Y in the future (“inference”). In reality, it is just one thing after another with nothing uniting them into a coherent framework. Instead, we have our mental categories imposing themselves upon the flux into an ordered framework that is based upon our memories and our imagination, both of which are firmly embedded in our minds, and not about the world.

    But to go off from there floating on the rafters of criticism doesn’t face the real issue; for Hume’s foundational assumption, that what we know we know by experience and not by deduction, still holds, and it holds for science.

    It does not. Physicists do not say that “energy” and “force” are byproducts of our imaginations, because we never directed experience either one, but only one event after another. They say that both are real parts of the natural world that are operative behind and through our observations, and which actually serve to explain them. Hume explicitly denies that any of these concepts refers to anything real on p. 40 of his first Enquiry. In fact, the foundational assumption of science is that there are laws of nature and general principles that are operative outside of our empirical experience, but which explain it, and allow us to predict to a certain extent the future.

    And “deduction” is a red herring. The scientific method involves both careful observation, and both inductive and deductive reasoning. Induction allows us to postulate general principles, and deduction allows us to infer consequences of those principles that we can empirically verify or falsify. That is the scientific method, and so your slur against deduction is misplaced.

    Certainly, scientists discover laws — although laws are a bit harder to come by in biology — but they discover them because they are willing to put things to the test of experience — and the relationship of theoretical entities to experience has alwas been an issue in the philosophy of science.

    It is not an issue for Hume. He is quite clear that they do not exist, except in our imagination. I’ve quoted him to that effect, and you have failed to quote him saying otherwise.

    Hume’s is not a contemptible argument, but a real problem. How do we come to know the laws of science? (Hint: It is not by discerning the essences of things.)

    First, I never said it was “contemptible”. I said it was a “crappy” argument.

    Second, we come to know the laws of science by using the scientific method. The issue is what is really going on when we discover one. Either we have discovered something real about the world, or we are just describing our imaginary projections upon the world. I would say the former, and Hume would say the latter. Which would you prefer?

    And the quote you take from Feser is truly contemptible. No, there are, in my view, no essenses, no universals, in the sense that Feser claims, and as Oderberg, another Catholic with axes to grind, holds. And Hume was not merely describing what was going on in his own head.

    Feser was just following Hume’s own principles to their inevitable conclusion, and he is correct. If there are no natures, then what was Hume doing writing an entire treatise purporting to explain human nature? It is an incoherent project, unless one takes him at his word that any talk about “natures” and “essences” is just a byproduct of human imagination, and in that case, he was just talking about what was going on in his imagination.

    In fact, he could not even say that he was speaking about what is going on in all human minds, because that would imply that there is a real human nature that he is describing that is operative in all human beings. And how would he know what is going on in the minds of other human beings? His sense impressions of his mental life are only about his own mental life, and he completely lacks any sense impressions of the mental life of another human being. It follows, according to his fundamental principle of empiricism, that the mental life of another human being does not exist at all, which means that his psychological conclusions are simply not generalizable at all to others.

    And all of this supports Feser’s interpretation of Hume’s project as an incoherent and contradictory mess. You may not like any of this, because you clearly like Hume a great deal, but it is all consistent with his own assumptions and conclusions.

    I’m open to the possibility that I am wrong, but it just seems that you are not understanding Hume on his own terms, and are imposing your own understanding of empricism and scientific inquiry into his works. That is not fair to Hume as an independent thinker, and he should stand by his own ideas, as he presented them, and not in a sanitized and scrubbed form.

  230. 24 August 2011 at 13:33 | #230

    I’m sorry. I’m just not prepared to enter into this discussion. The part that Hume’s philosophy played in the development of empiricism and positivism is fairly important, and as I said before history is not an argument. Hume is not here to stand by his ideas. His ideas were had and expressed at a particular moment in time. They cannot be wholly understood outside of that context, and to take his ideas, today, as contenders for serious contemporary debate, instead of for historical understanding, is simply an inappropriate thing to try to do. We have the advantage of over 200 years of philosophy and scientific research to go on. We must take him as he was, and his ideas for what they were then, not for what they are now. It’s only because you’ve bought into Feser’s argument that history is an argument, and we can go back and demolish Locke and Hume on our ground that makes what you seem plausible, but it’s not, and, strictly speaking, it’s a waste of time. Practically every thinker before our time can be reduced in some important respect to incoherency by this method, but what purpose does it serve? None, that I can see, and I am not prepared to indulge in it. This could go on for ever and would achieve precisely nothing.

  231. rick longworth
    24 August 2011 at 14:15 | #231

    Hear, hear!

  232. dguller
    24 August 2011 at 14:18 | #232

    Eric:

    I’m sorry. I’m just not prepared to enter into this discussion. The part that Hume’s philosophy played in the development of empiricism and positivism is fairly important, and as I said before history is not an argument. Hume is not here to stand by his ideas. His ideas were had and expressed at a particular moment in time. They cannot be wholly understood outside of that context, and to take his ideas, today, as contenders for serious contemporary debate, instead of for historical understanding, is simply an inappropriate thing to try to do. We have the advantage of over 200 years of philosophy and scientific research to go on. We must take him as he was, and his ideas for what they were then, not for what they are now. It’s only because you’ve bought into Feser’s argument that history is an argument, and we can go back and demolish Locke and Hume on our ground that makes what you seem plausible, but it’s not, and, strictly speaking, it’s a waste of time. Practically every thinker before our time can be reduced in some important respect to incoherency by this method, but what purpose does it serve? None, that I can see, and I am not prepared to indulge in it. This could go on for ever and would achieve precisely nothing.

    That’s fine, but then you should have just agreed that Hume’s account was bunk, both on its own terms, and from the standpoint of contemporary philosophical understanding. Instead, you accused me and Feser of misrepresenting Hume’s work, which is clearly not the case.

    Also, just remember why I brought up Hume at all.

    We were talking about whether causality requires teleology, and I mentioned that Hume’s complete rejection of teleology is what undermines his account of causality and inductive reasoning. You then agreed with his account of causality as our memory of constant conjuction of X followed by Y in the past, and that when we are confronted by X once again, then our imagination infers that Y will happen in the future. You further argued that this account is sufficient to justify induction as an appropriate type of reasoning.

    I tried to explain that Hume’s account only makes sense if you conceive of empirical events as utterly independent of one another without any real underlying connection between them. This is because if there is an underlying connection, then when X occurs, then it necessarily points towards the direction of Y occurring afterward as part of the connection between X and Y. That would be an argument for intrinsic teleology. To argue against this, one would have to believe in an ontology of completely independent events, such that there is nothing about X that would lead to Y in nature, and that there is just X, then Y, which our minds then impose causal structure and order upon. In other words, when X occurs, it stares into an empty void, and does not have an intrinsic directedness towards any particular outcome, and exists as an independent event.

    And the problem with this account is that it completely undermines all human knowledge for a number of reasons.

    First, it means that any general principles or natural laws that our inquiry discovers is not about the world — which is just the flux of X, then Y, then Z, without any intrinsic connections between them — but rather about how our minds work. That would mean that all natural laws are byproducts of our imaginations projecting a framework upon the world, which would be news to scientists.

    Second, it means there is no explanation at all for why there is any regularity at all, even in the past when X is always followed by Y. If there is some regularity, then that would imply some underlying process that sustained the regularity and made it possible. However, if X stands completely independently of Y, then there is nothing underneath it all, and it is a complete mystery why constant conjunction is even possible.

    Third, it makes induction impossible, because induction is about generalizing from particular instances into general principles, but that assumes that such principles are operative in nature and not just in our minds. If all that exists are independent events, then how can one infer any general patterns that are real? And without general patterns, there is no induction, and without induction, there is no science.

    So, again, is there an underlying order to nature that our minds genuinely detect, or is nature just one utterly independent event after another without such an underlying order connecting the events into a coherent whole? And just remember that if you agree with the former, then that means that it is not just constant conjunction that our minds detect when discovering general principles and causal regularities, but rather real laws of nature, and if this is true, then there are natures and essences underlying our observed world that the mind can detect, and that these inevitably involve the type of teleology that we have been discussing.

    Any thoughts?

  233. dguller
    24 August 2011 at 14:28 | #233

    Another Matt:

    Anyway, you might also say (not to put words in your mouth) that the thought that we might wake up tomorrow and find that an electron has escaped from a lithium atom and gotten drunk and donned a pair of clown shoes is only possibly ridiculous given teleology because only with teleology could you even propose that those are not the kinds of things that electrons can do (since that’s a deductive conditional), and that given Humean metaphysics we’re so hobbled that we can’t make that hypothesis because deduction is meaningless, nor indeed can we even justifiably label patterns that we remember from last time (viz. “electron” in this example). I have my doubts that Hume went this far, but I won’t pretend to know Hume well enough to say this confidently.

    Our imagination can take things out of the context of their typical behavior in nature, and assign them novel qualities that we would never find in nature. That would be what is happening when you imagine the electron getting drunk and so on. And Hume would agree with this. The problem emerges when you start with Hume’s two fundamental assumptions: (1) Reality consists of a series of independent empirical events, and (2) X is real if and only if X can ultimately be traced to an experienced empirical event. (1) and (2) lead to a number of absurd conclusions, as I have mentioned above. And for the record, intrinsic teleology would falsify both (1) and (2), and that is why Hume’s project is an utter anathema to teleology, and vice versa. They are mutually exclusive.

    I think this all hinges on what you think Hume means by “is real.” If that’s a thoroughgoing ontological “is,” perhaps you’re right and his project is doomed. If it’s an epistemological “is” (imagine the phrase “taken as real”) then perhaps it’s saved after all. I don’t have anything personally riding on Hume being right.

    Hume was making both epistemic and ontological points. He not only described how we come to know anything, but also described what there is to know in reality. In fact, they are both fundamentally related, because his ontology explains his epistemology, and his epistemology explains his ontology. It all comes as a total package, and thus rejecting one requires the rejection of the other.

  234. dguller
    24 August 2011 at 14:37 | #234

    Eric:

    One more thing. You wrote:

    It’s only because you’ve bought into Feser’s argument that history is an argument, and we can go back and demolish Locke and Hume on our ground that makes what you seem plausible, but it’s not, and, strictly speaking, it’s a waste of time.

    Does that also apply to ancient and medieval thinkers? In other words, is it right to hold them to our own standards, or should we understand their ideas within the context of their own systems? Either we are allowed to read our own assumptions into the ideas of other thinkers, which would pollute their thoughts and possibly make a caricature of them, which is what Feser contends modern thinkers do when they criticize Aquinas, for example, or we have to take thinkers on their own terms, and that means that we have to make the effort to understand their thought as they understood it, and not according to our modern sensibilities and assumptions. Or, another option, there is simply no use at all in studying ancient and medieval thinkers, because our modern ideas are always better than older ones?

    Just wondering where you stand on this.

    Oh, and history is an argument. It just isn’t always a good one.

    Thanks.

  235. 24 August 2011 at 14:37 | #235

    No, I won’t acknowledge that Hume’s work is bunk, and I do think that is so over the top as to disqualify you from any further credibility. Sorry, but you do massively misrepresent Hume. But now the discussion has become just silly.

  236. dguller
    24 August 2011 at 15:17 | #236

    Eric:

    No, I won’t acknowledge that Hume’s work is bunk, and I do think that is so over the top as to disqualify you from any further credibility. Sorry, but you do massively misrepresent Hume. But now the discussion has become just silly.

    We can drop this discussion of Hume. That’s fine, but I just want to be clear that you claim that I have “massively” misrepresented Hume, but you have not identified a single misrepresentation that I have not backed up with a direct quote from Hume. Trust me, I’ve read him, and I have not misrepresented him. I just don’t think that you’ve ever really paid attention to what he is actually saying, and rather have read the most charitable interpretation possible into his works, which is ironically the exact opposite of what you do with thinkers that you disagree with (e.g. Feser).

  237. 24 August 2011 at 15:24 | #237

    In the judgement of many, Hume is one of the greatest philosophers to have written in English. To simply dismiss what he says as bunk, is foolish. But history is not an argument in the sense that you can take a philosopher, as Feser does, say that his arguments have never been refuted — are philosophical arguments ever refuted? — and then judge Locke on this basis. This is unreasonable. What Locke was doing was trying to think through contemporary issues (in the late 17th century England) in contemporary terms. Aquinas was not, as such, relevant, and the attempt to make him relevant, in the way that Feser is now trying to make him relevant today, would have set back English society by centuries.

    Aquinas was a theologian of an enormous, unchallenged institution, and his answers suited that period of history. They made it particularly brutal and unkind. They are ludicrous today, no matter how logically impeccable they may seem to be. Their moral consequences are repugnant. I just read an article in the Nation where David Oderberg argues that, while abortion and euthanasia are absolutely forbidden, just war and capital punishment are matters over which we can disagree! It’s like passing through the looking glass!

    Aquinas may have said some interesting things, but I cannot think of any reason why we should think it is possible to provide metaphysical demonstrations of the kind that he purports to do, and Hume is one of the obstacles standing in the way. I’ll stick with Hume, and let others play with the deceptive certainties of Aquinas. But I am tired of this discussion. It seemed to begin well, and for awhile it had interesting and even enlightening moments, but now it is starting to shade off into nonsense.

    As for criticising Aquinas on his own terms. Well, yes, you have to, don’t you? He believed in so many crazy things. However, some will not let him speak only to his own time. Indeed, Oderberg quotes with approval Aquinas’ statement that “if a man is dangerous to the community and is subverting it by some sin, the treatment to be commended is his execution in order to preserve the common good.” (my italics) Oderberg’s comment: “Far less restrictive, as one can see, unless “some sin” is distorted to mean “the worst possible sin in the world” or some such.” So Bush was closer, after all, to traditional morality than JPII! But that “subverting it by some sin” is so capacious as to include practically anyone in its scope, which is no doubt why the medieval church was so generous in turning over to the civil arm those who were to be purified by fire. I scarcely see the words that Oderberg quotes as particularly helpful today. I think Aquinas’ demonstrative metaphysics about as useful.

    But this really is my last comment on the matter.

  238. Michael Fugate
    24 August 2011 at 18:59 | #238

    skyhooks vs cranes

  239. Steve Ruble
    24 August 2011 at 19:04 | #239

    dguller,

    Eric posted a quote from Hume:

    … we can never penetrate so far into the essence and construction of bodies, as to perceive the principle, on which their mutual influence is founded. ‘Tis their constant union alone, with which we are acquainted; and ’tis from the constant union the necessity arises, when the mind is determined to pass from one object to its usual attendant, and infer the existence of one from that of the other. Here then are two particulars, which we are to regard as essential to necessity, viz. the constant union and the inference of the mind; and whenever we discover these we must acknowledge a necessity.

    You posted another quote, and commented on it:

    “When we entertain, threfore, any suspicion, that a philosophical term is employed without any meaning or idea (as is but too frequent), we need but enquire, from what impression is that supposed idea derived? And if it be impossible to assign any, this will serve to confirm our suspicion” (p. 13).

    Why doesn’t necessary connection exist in reality, and is only an imposition of our minds? Because “necessary connection” can never be ultimately traced to sense impressions, which are only of particular empirical events. That’s it. That’s the argument. And I’m sure that you can see just how crappy an argument it is.

    I’m not sure how it escaped your attention, but in the first quote Hume provides an answer to the question, “from what impression is that supposed idea derived?” Now, if you have the supposed idea that there’s something more to necessity than “constant union and the inference of the mind”, feel free to share the impressions that you derived it from… but I’ll be amazed if what you share can be distinguished from imagination and speculation.

    You seem to entirely miss the larger point of what Hume – and many people here – have repeatedly pointed out. Let me try to synthesize what I’ve gathered from reading others here, as well as Hume:

    There are certain things we can observe to be the case. From these things we can observe, we can formulate hypotheses which we can test against other observations, and they can be so thoroughly tested that we feel comfortable calling them necessary connections, or laws of nature. But we always remember that they are not deductively necessary, because we did not deduce them from certain premises, we induced them from observations. However, there is no defensible stronger claim which can possibly be made about these thoroughly tested hypotheses. No one can claim that they are deductively necessary, because they are not deductively arrived at. No one can say that they are metaphysically necessary, because no one can observe metaphysical necessity, and the confidence one might have in the metaphysical necessity is ontologically dependent upon the empirical evidence acquired through empirical testing. When empirical testing shows that our confidence in the necessary connection of two things is false – as has happened many times – then any claim of metaphysical necessity is revealed to be a pretense at understanding which had no justification of its own. Metaphysical claims – such as directedness – are parasitic on empirical observations and empirically tested hypotheses; they contribute nothing to what we can be confident we understand, because only after we are confident we understand something can the metaphysician come and tack on his claims about teleology and the directedness of causes. It’s only because we empirically observe regularity in nature that the metaphysician can even seize upon that regularity as an inspiration for speculation. Fundamentally, however, all we have to go on are empirical observations, and all the metaphysical kruft in the world can’t make them a whit more – or less – useful to us in our attempts to understand the world.

    Anyway, I think I’m out. I’ve learned a lot in this conversation, and I’ve found it extraordinarily congenial and productive, but I think we’ve reached diminishing returns at this point. Thanks to everyone who contributed to the ~70,000 words of this thread!

  240. 24 August 2011 at 19:20 | #240

    Yes, I am afraid so.

  241. GordonWillis
    24 August 2011 at 19:59 | #241

    @dguller. I honestly don’t know how you manage to write so much! You obviously know your stuff. Since I got back earlier today I have spent ages in making this reply. I hope it’s coherent.

    I would respond that correlation is not causation, although causation does involve correlation of a particular type. Correlation would occur when two events happen often in conjunction with one another, such as night following the day, but we do not say that the night causes the day. Causation would involve not only correlation and regularity, but a particular type of regularity in which there is some kind of mechanism connecting the antecedent and consequent events, and I think would involve some directedness from the antecedent towards the consequent events, which an Aristotelian would call a “final cause”.

    If correlation occurs consistently, it is the effect of an underlying cause: thus, what causes night is what causes day. However, I see no reason to suppose that the rotation of the earth in the presence of the sun is directed towards the goal of night-and-day or any other consequence such as the 24-hour clock or the electric light-bulb or going to sleep or burgling houses or getting a sun-tan, or colour vision or nocturnal vision or why-bother-with-vision-at-all. The sun shines on the earth and the earth rotates, and the warming and cooling and lightening and darkening have their multitudinous effects. Are we to say that the entire process of nuclear fusion under the gravity of an immense body of gas is “directed” towards the “end” of shining on things, or towards the invention of photo-electric cells? We have reached a stage where we are saying that the fact that things do what they do is the same thing as “directedness”: but it only means that we have observed that B regularly follows A. Is the rotation of the earth and the moon around a common centre of gravity “directed” towards the goal of eclipses, or panic attacks, or human sacrifices? Things which obstruct the sun’s radiation cast shadows (which is to say: obstruction of light = shadow). In effect, the regular behaviour of matter and energy is being defined as “directedness”. But the regular behaviour of matter and energy is the result of (say) an electron simply being what defines an electron. That is all the “directedness” there is. Everything else follows.
    Another way of looking at it is this: Every cause is seen as an instance of directedness and every effect is seen as a goal. There is no reason why a “final goal” should be distinguished, any effect will do, and deciding whether it’s a “final goal” depends on selection by us — it’s arbitrary. The interesting thing is the thought-process which introduces “some kind of mechanism between the antecedent and consequent events” and a separation of “directedness” from the one towards the other. In trying to account for the relationship between cause and effect an additional cause, “directedness”, has been interpolated: although it begins from the observation of the nature of electrons and electron shells etc. it acquires a mental life of its own.

    But if you actually look at the biological machinery of living organisms, then you will see that they are all geared towards the preservation of survival

    Do look at this: “the preservation of survival”. Surely either “preservation” or “survival” are what you mean. Either will do. But if “survival” becomes a final cause, I suppose things will require an additional final cause of preservation of survival. How will they ensure survival if survival is not preserved? Where will it end, I ask myself?

    They have a boundary between their interior and the external world, and they guard that boundary to minimize the risk of toxic substances entering the interior and causing damage. They also guard their interiors with an immune system to identify and destroy invaders. They have power plants (i.e. mitochondria) that generate the energy needed to survive. They have waste disposal units (i.e. liver, kidneys, and GI tract) to eliminate unwanted substances. They have a mechanism to allow nutrition to enter their internal milieu, and to transmit those nutrients throughout their organism.

    And all the various mechanisms that “ensure survival”. You see, we talk about survival, animals and plants do what they do. We consider “survival” a goal, they just happen to be there. Their goals are things like food, sex, food, sleep, and food. They are there because of cause and effect. So are we. Selection is already survival, so selected traits are survival traits. A goal is not needed, only consequences. Thus, evolution is not even directed towards survival. The existence of living things is just the marvellous interplay of (say) electrons being electrons. All your examples are instances of the argument from design (and one meaning of “design” is “purpose”, and the idea of “purpose” underlies all our uses of the word). But there is simply no reason to suppose that the idea of design, of purpose, of directedness, of a goal, is anything more than an arbitrary view, conditioned by our nature as social animals (as animals, we look for patterns to help us build up a picture of the world; as social animals we think in terms of motive and intention).

    What is the point of all of this effort if not to stay alive,

    Why should there be a point? My point is that we invent directedness because we seek purposes: “what is the point?”

    and why is it so objectionable to say that this is an objective fact, independent of our psychological preferences?

    It is objectionable only because we have no reason to believe that it is true, and good reason to believe that it is determined by “our psychological preferences.”

    The idea is that the glass’s brittleness is not a reality in the same way that its translucence is.

    Actually, this is quite wrong. We say that something is translucent, meaning that if it is exposed to light, it will permit some light to pass though it. We say that something is brittle, meaning that if it is exposed to a sufficient force, it will permit the force to be dissipated in many directions — i.e., the object will “shatter”. Because we look at the “wholeness” of a “thing” we say that the wholeness is lost when it shatters. In fact, it merely behaves differently according to the forces to which it is exposed. Changes of state are regular features of our world. It is only because we wanted a drink of wine that we feel that the glass shattering is an end of “the glass” and that therefore shattering is qualitatively different (has a different “reality”) from translucence.

    The brittleness is a potential that has not been actualized,

    The brittleness is a property of its molecular structure fully actualised in its being glass. Its shattering is a consequence of its brittleness (molecular structure) when it encounters a sufficient force. “Brittleness” does not imply “directedness”. It is simply a measure of hardness. It’s one of the things we mean by “silica”.

    its translucence is actualized by virtue of the ability of photons to transmit through the glass.

    The translucence is a property of its molecular structure fully actualised in its being glass. Its clarity is a consequence of its translucence (molecular structure) when it encounters a bombardment of photons.

    But regularity is supposed to be indicative of an expected pattern.

    I would rather say that regularity is what we mean by an observed pattern. Having observed a pattern, we naturally expect it.

    Let us say that we have observed a regularity where A is followed by B, and let us say that we are now confronted with A. We know that A has the potential to lead to B, but this potential has not been actualized yet. We also know that all potential is potential for specific outcomes, but not others, and this involves a direction towards those specific outcomes, in this case towards B.

    If there is a regularity where A is followed by B, why do you say that we have seen A, but not yet B? If A implies B, then there is B when there is A. If you are thinking of brittleness again, this doesn’t work. Brittleness is not a potential for shattering any more than translucence is a potential for permitting light to pass. If A has not yet been followed by B, that implies that other conditions are necessary. Therefore, A can only lead to B if C and D and E take place. (Glass allows light to pass only if light is bombarding it, glass breaks only if sufficient kinetic energy is applied, glass melts only if it is subjected to a source of sufficient heat, glass will hold wine only if its molecular structure provides sufficient rigidity and nonporosity and chemical inertness and so on and on).

    that is all that teleology is fundamentally about, i.e. something pointing beyond itself towards something else, whether an eventual end or purpose, or a referent for a symbol or sign.

    “Pointing beyond itself”. This sounds very mystical. You are saying that the potential for a thing to do A under condition B is pointing beyond “itself”. What is “itself”? A lump of glass? What is “beyond itself”? Being lots and lots of pieces of glass instead of just one single lump? “Pointing”: as when the lump says “I could be simply hundreds of pieces of glass, given the right conditions, of course…” None of this is purpose at all, but it is an exemplar of what actually happens, and it is all that happens.

    And in the present moment, when we are confronted with A, A points towards B as the next step, which we can call an end or goal or whatever, but the issue is not the terms that we use, but about the underlying phenomenon that the terms are supposed to refer to.

    I think you are wrong about “steps”. The world isn’t a tidy sequence of events; such ideas are what we think with. The world is a whole mess of interactions happening all at once in which we dimly perceive various patterns and after many generations of study have arrived at some fairly reliable idea of what is going on. The issue is the terms we use because they are all we have to describe what we see, and it matters if some people see effects where others see goals; our outlook determines what we see, and if what we really want to see is what is really going on then it matters how we look.

    And “just how it is” is that currently existing things point beyond themselves to something else that is not present, and this is the directedness that facilitates goal-directed behavior, and all patterns, in fact.

    Well, I dispute that. See above. “Just how it is” is “just how it is”. At rock bottom, if the universe were directed by a supernatural being, that would be “just how it is”. If, on the other hand, the universe were just there, that would be “just how it is”. If there were purpose, or if there were no purpose, that would be “just how it is”. There is no purpose even in purpose. Even if God designed it all with purposes of his own, there would be no ultimate purpose. God’s purposes are just God’s purposes. They serve no purpose except to please himself, which has no purpose. Purposes serve no purpose. They just are. The universe serves no purpose. It just is. Things that look like purposes have no purpose. Purpose has no relevance.

    Sure, one could say that, but then you still have the fact that a certain kind of skin points beyond itself towards the effect of improving its survival by camouflaging the animal from predators.

    But it isn’t a fact. The skin points towards nothing. It’s skin. It happens to be very lucky skin, but that’s how it is. Lucky skin survives, unlucky skin gets eaten. Is an animal a device for the preservation of skin? Is every cell in an animal’s body an unwitting member of an advanced civilisation? Is every gene?

    And Feser’s point is that when the disposition is potential, then it is ultimately teleological in the sense that its potential is for protection

    So, back to glass again. Potential is what we see. We know that a pawn can move one square directly forward into an empty square, or one square diagonally if an opponent’s piece is suitably situated. Is the potential in the pawn? Is it in the mind of the player who knows the rules? Is it in the people who invented the rules long long ago? “Disposition is potential” is just a word-game. “Disposition” = “so placed as to be able to do such and such”: “potential” = “having the power to do such and such”. To say “its potential is for protection” is only to project “protection” as a goal. What you have is living things that happen to be around because they don’t explode when they step on the grass and they don’t melt in the presence of mud and they don’t get eaten by cabbages or very small stones. To talk about protection is to project our mindset. Things have come about and we observe their effects. There is no reason to suppose that those effects are goals. We don’t know why there are living things, or why there is mud, but we do know that there are these things, and that is all we know. For all we know, an armadillo is a means to a great and unforeseeable end, but as we can’t foresee such an end we can’t even know if it might be. We just make it up. And what is the purpose of a great and unforeseeable end?

    The linchpin of this entire account that saves it from being a tautology is that the trait must increase survival in order for the whole show to get going.

    No no no. “In order for the whole show to get going”: What would it matter if it didn’t? And what does it matter if it does? If the show gets going, it gets going. One can point to various features which make the going more or less likely, and observe what happens: yes, it’s going. So (we say), this or that feature is what makes sure that it goes. By which we mean that if A did not occur in the presence of C, D and E, you wouldn’t get B. Turning “survival” into some sort of abstract “good” is no help at all. “Survival” only means “it hasn’t been eaten yet” or “it has kept off the grass”. And anything that doesn’t get eaten or which keeps off the grass will have progeny. And so on. It’s not a goal, it’s what happens.

    First, just because our minds are inherently involved in the detection of patterns in nature does not mean that they necessarily create them.

    No, but how are we to distinguish patterns that we objectively observe from patterns that we impute by reason of our tendency to look for them?

    Otherwise, there would be no way to determine whether our pattern-detecting capacity has resulted in a true positive or a false positive, because it is all just in our heads.

    And this is the problem. We have no idea whether there is such a way. All we can do is patiently observe, test our hypotheses, and try to understand ourselves and how we see things. That really is all we can do. Inventing the notion of final causes is interesting as an hypothesis, but is it true? It just has to be tested like everything else. So far, I can’t see any reason to suppose that it is true, and if it were, it would only be “just how it is”.

  242. dguller
    24 August 2011 at 20:01 | #242

    Steve:

    I’m not sure how it escaped your attention, but in the first quote Hume provides an answer to the question, “from what impression is that supposed idea derived?” Now, if you have the supposed idea that there’s something more to necessity than “constant union and the inference of the mind”, feel free to share the impressions that you derived it from… but I’ll be amazed if what you share can be distinguished from imagination and speculation.

    So, your position is that the causal regularities that we experience and infer are essentially projections of our minds, i.e. “imagination and speculation”. It follows from this that they are not actually really present in the world, and so all scientific laws, such as conservation of mass and energy, have nothing to do with the universe, and everything to do with our subjective experience of the universe. If you don’t think that undermines science altogether, then I don’t know what else to tell you. Tell a physicist that quantum mechanics is in their mind and not in the world, and let me know what they tell you.

    There are certain things we can observe to be the case. From these things we can observe, we can formulate hypotheses which we can test against other observations, and they can be so thoroughly tested that we feel comfortable calling them necessary connections, or laws of nature. But we always remember that they are not deductively necessary, because we did not deduce them from certain premises, we induced them from observations. However, there is no defensible stronger claim which can possibly be made about these thoroughly tested hypotheses. No one can claim that they are deductively necessary, because they are not deductively arrived at. No one can say that they are metaphysically necessary, because no one can observe metaphysical necessity, and the confidence one might have in the metaphysical necessity is ontologically dependent upon the empirical evidence acquired through empirical testing. When empirical testing shows that our confidence in the necessary connection of two things is false – as has happened many times – then any claim of metaphysical necessity is revealed to be a pretense at understanding which had no justification of its own.

    I agree with all of this. The issue is not whether a claim is based upon inductive generalization from a set of particular empirical observations, or upon deductive inferences from previously inducted inferences into general principles. Those are red herrings and non-sequiters. The issue is whether our theories, whether deductive or inductive, are actually tracking real patterns in nature, or whether they are projections of our minds upon an incoherent Heraclitean flux.

    Metaphysical claims – such as directedness – are parasitic on empirical observations and empirically tested hypotheses; they contribute nothing to what we can be confident we understand, because only after we are confident we understand something can the metaphysician come and tack on his claims about teleology and the directedness of causes. It’s only because we empirically observe regularity in nature that the metaphysician can even seize upon that regularity as an inspiration for speculation. Fundamentally, however, all we have to go on are empirical observations, and all the metaphysical kruft in the world can’t make them a whit more – or less – useful to us in our attempts to understand the world.

    Again, very little here that I find problematic. We all agree that we observe regularity and directedness in the sense that we have been discussing in nature. The question is whether this regularity and directedness is a projection of our minds or intrinsic aspects of nature that our minds are accurately representing. My contention, and Feser’s, is that the latter is more likely to be true, and it seems that everyone else, as Hume was before you, is committed to the former.

    As far as I can tell, that’s where we stand in our discussion.

    Anyway, I think I’m out. I’ve learned a lot in this conversation, and I’ve found it extraordinarily congenial and productive, but I think we’ve reached diminishing returns at this point. Thanks to everyone who contributed to the ~70,000 words of this thread!

    Thanks for your helpful criticisms and questions. Take care!

  243. Another Matt
    24 August 2011 at 20:06 | #243

    GordonWillis:

    Since I got back earlier today I have spent ages in making this reply.

    It does take up one’s time, doesn’t it?! I don’t know what my purpose will be after this thread ends.

  244. rick longworth
    24 August 2011 at 20:52 | #244

    Congratulations Gordon. I think your response is pretty well definitive. I appreciate that you took the time and energy to resolve this for me. I will sleep much better tonight knowing that Western Civilization is progressive and not regressive during my lifetime.

  245. RH
    24 August 2011 at 21:04 | #245

    Prof. Feser,

    Thank you for taking the time for another reply.

    In particular, IF it is true as a matter of objective, mind-independent fact that animals have essences and that those essences involve being naturally directed to certain ends,

    Which I don’t go along with.  Are you saying your claims about alchoholics/triangles follow tautologically from the above premise?  If so, then you are begging the question – I’m asking if you have an actual argument – reasons for why I would accept your claims vs some other value theory.
    However, if you want to say it somehow follows from reason  / argument 
    from your conditional statement to a conclusion below,  Then the problem remains:  how much is being smuggled in under propositions like: “(animal) essences involve being naturally directed to certain ends” ?

    I do not see why we ought to think of natural propensities, ends  representative of a norm, as being intrinsically  ” good” in any way.
    Hence:

    then asking “Why suppose it is good for a lion to nourish her cubs?” or “Why is it good for a human being not to become an alcoholic?” is like asking “Why is a Euclidean triangle drawn carefully with a straight edge a better triangle than quickly one sketched freehand?”

    I do not see how it follows from your conditional that those don’t remain perfectly good questions.  The only way they would not be is if I fully granted  all the assertions, inferences and reasoning of Aristotelianism.  However, that is precisely what I’m questioning!  

     Another answer to the question “why is a Euclidean triangle drawn carefully with a straight edge a better triangle than quickly one sketched freehand?,” is to say it fulfills the desire of someone seeking to accurately approximate an E-triangle.   It’s a matter of accuracy to a goal – “better/good” still being related to a subjective desire.  None of which undermines what an E-triangle “is.”  The more accurate the rendering to what an E-triangle “is,” the “better” in terms of fulfilling the desire in question.

    I find such an approach to understanding “better/good” and related value statements to be more cogent than what you are offering.  You can’t dismiss other possible answers like this out of hand, as you seem to do here.  So it’s still disputable that your conclusion follows from that conditional.  And to try to say it might follow necesssarilly from that initial conditional would reek of 
    assuming what I’m asking to see justified.

    Hence, when you also say it makes no sense to answer “Why is it good for a human being not to become an alcoholic?” in any other way, it begs the question against pretty much every other value theory that will answer the question differently than you do.   

    And in precisely the same way, it isn’t a matter of our subjective valuations that a lioness that feeds her young or a human being who is free from a compulsion to drink is “better” in the sense of being a better specimen (i.e. healthier, closer to the norm determined by the nature of the organism and what is conducive to its flourishing, etc.). To pretend that this is somehow subjective is essentially to pretend that biological descriptions are subjective —

    Obviously I disagree.  An alternate view is that our biological descriptions are objective (at least potentially – i.e. if true) but better/good are value statements.  When a biologist finds what she declares to be a “better, good, excellent, magnificent” specimen of a particular shark she is studying,  I find it can best be understood as related to a desire – she may be looking for individuals of a certain size, maturity, temperament,  etc, and whatever individual shark meets her desire she will evaluate on how closely it fulfills that desire.  That desire could also be a desire to see a shark that is indicative of the shark type or paradigm she has in mind.  The shark type may be an abstraction from objective descriptions of many similar “sharks.”
    But in strict terms her valuation will have a subjective basis.

    I’d add that if you watch biologists in the wild, the enthusiasm with which they can declare a specimen “good/excellent/wonderful/magnificent” betrays the 
    connection between their own desire and that specimen’s success in fulfilling the biologist’s desire.  

    that we call a dog with all of its legs or without cancer “better” than one which has been injured or that has cancer because we like them that that way.

    Actually, all the ways in which I can conceive of calling any dog “better” or “good” only make sense as ultimately related to a desire.  For instance, a dog without cancer is “good” if someone has the desire to have a healthy dog as a pet.  Or if he doesn’t own a dog, to the extent he does not wish any dog to suffer  it would be “good” for a dog to be free of cancer (or have all of it’s legs for that matter).  Or if he wishes to point to a border collie who is representative of the features associated with border collies, he can find a dog that fulfills that desire.  And so on.  ”Good” in the strictly objective sense you are talking about makes no sense to me.  I see no reason in what you have written for why I ought to e persuaded otherwise.

    Now, again, so far that much is not yet a moral sense of “good.” But as I have said, the moral sense is for the Aristotelian just a special case of this more general sense.

    Which is one reason one needs to be so cautious in accepting your general case, so that unjustified assumptions don’t slip through.

    Everyone knows what it means to call a well-drawn triangle a better triangle than a badly-drawn one, what it means to call a four-legged dog a better dog than one which has had a leg cut off, and so forth; and everyone knows that these are in no way subjective claims but perfectly objective ones that reflect a knowledge of the norm conveyed by the natures of the things in question.

    No.  Everyone does not know such things!  That presumes your account of an objective “good” is correct, which I and many other people dispute.  We are examining what makes sense of our use of the words “better,” “good” etc.

    Is it possible that some people mean by “good” precisely what you argue?  Possibly.  But as we know many people  do not use terms or concepts consistently.   A philosophical value theory attempts to capture what people generally mean by our terms,  and compare what we tend to assume with what we must assume to make sense, which can mean detecting mistaken assumptions many of us make.

    After all, you believe atheists aren using the term “good” under some mistaken assumptions.  I’d make the same observation about anyone who thinks they are detecting objective value, rather than being the author of that value.

    Obviously you might challenge such claims about the natural ends of reason, but that’s a secondary point. What I’m trying to answer is your apparent view that even given such ends we’d have a “naturalistic fallacy.

    One of my points, yes (I think you skirt possibly between a naturalistic and / or a strict is/ought dichotomy).  

    Now you might say that this is really all somehow just subjective, but what I do not see is how you could have a reason for doing so that doesn’t simply presuppose a Humean metaphysics.

    I’m not presuming Hume’s metaphysics – only pointing out that Hume raised our consciousness about the assumptions that can go unexamined when we are going from is to ought statements, and like it or not anyone has to be ready to explain the connection between fact and value statements in their moral theory.

    I believe, with a potion of philosophers, that the bridge from fact to value arises from the introduction of subjectivity – goals.  Even more specifically, from “desires” which provide the only reasons-for-actions that exist.   In fact  I find myself persuaded by certain value theories wherein all ought statements, prudential and moral, are objective statements insofar as they reduce to truth claims about the relationship between “real desires, that exist” and objective claims about the real world states of affairs that would fulfill the desire(s) in question.  In other words, when you say “You ought to do  X” you can be objectively right or wrong in your claim.  So recognizing that subjectivity is necessarily involved in value does not equate to ought statements being merely subjective (no more than recognizing that a “chance” element – mutations in terms of fitness – mean that the entire process of evolution is therefore “chance.”)

    Thus ontologically speaking, value arises, comes into existence, only insofar as a desire arises – “good” being the relationship between the desire and that which would be such as to fulfill the desire.     I find objective value theories of the “intrinsic” type you propose to be at best, poorly explanatory of how value actually seems to arise in human experience, at worst flat out incoherent.

    That of course is not the argument for such a view.  Just that its there as an alternative waiting in the wings.  And I’m not evaluating your posts on the grounds that if you do not answer the questions with the same answer as another theory, that you must be wrong.  Rather, it is more about comparison.  There are various issues that arise when we ask what we mean by “better, good (and ought)” and I’m looking to see how well your argument answers the questions, and how well the reasoning hangs together, and how well it explains our experience.  Right now I see too many assumptions and dubious leaps of logic, even between the assumptions, to think the theory you defend has much promise.

    As to evolution, you are implicitly assuming that there is such a thing as “the science” that somehow delivers the answers to the metaphysical questions underlying this debate.

    I did not do that in my reply.  What I did was look at a central tenet of how evolution works – from which it follows that evolutionary changes in populations tend to mean that a trait that at first was NOT the norm for a species BECOMES the norm for successive populations.  If you deny that, you deny evolution theory flat out!  Since I’m presuming you don’t deny the scientific theory of evolution (if you do, hooboy, that’s another conversation we can have), the point is:  you must explain how your Aristotelian association of “good” with a “norm” deals with such facts.  At this point there seems quite a tension there, unless you can explain why not.

    Now, I understand you also want to claim for Aristotelianism the assumptions that underwrite empirical science itself.  Naturally I disagree with that as well.
    But one set of claims at a time.  

    I’ve been  asking how you move from any specific set of observations to determining the final cause of an etity, or biological feature.  So far I still see no indication the moves are not arbitrary or subjective on your part.

    Many thanks,

    RH

  246. rick longworth
    24 August 2011 at 21:35 | #246

    RH’s response seems very cogent to me. It made me think of the notion of “good” as an “end” as having a serious problem reconciling with the actual processes of evolution, much discussed here. If a whale, which we all now understand, began as a carnivorous, land dwelling ungulate evolved through many intermediate forms with many different body configurations and lifestyles, how is it possible to establish, at any moment in time what the good, or ideal whale looks like. While it was still capable of running along the beeches, or when it became sea bound except for, perhaps, some reproductive behaviors, or when it’s rear legs still hung uselessly from its rear end and the ocean was it’s only habitat. When the mother gave birth to young live and then pushed them to the surface for air. Or when the forelimbs became flippers and rear legs were shriveled and buried deep in the gut and the tail transformed into a fluke. When they diversified into predators with teeth and sifters of krill. What was the ideal “end” which we should call a “good” whale? All of these types and all of the billions of members of the long evolution? Plato, Aristotle and Aquinas did not have this complex question in mind when they addressed the “good” and the “ideal”. They lacked centuries of effort and of course Darwin’s explanation. They must have been taken up by their immediate surroundings. The apparent stability of the animals and plants within their lifetimes in arriving at their philosophies. Deep time is a profound context to reexamine the nature of biological things.

  247. Another Matt
    25 August 2011 at 00:34 | #247

    RH – loved the post. One comment:

    I believe, with a potion of philosophers, that the bridge from fact to value arises from the introduction of subjectivity – goals.

    There’s another place where fact and value are in tension, which is where we decide among several seemingly plausible but exclusive interpretations of a set of observational data; I have in mind values like Occam’s razor, , modesty of scope, conservatism, and other of the Quinean web of belief stuff. So while I’m free to believe that day causes night or vice-versa, given other observational data (the sun, tides, data from telescopes, etc.) I may decide that another interpretation fits the data better, accounts for more, or is just simpler, and I may revise it on other grounds later after I have more observation and insight.

    Now, I think it’s basically fair to say that the word “fact” can be interpreted as “something that is taken as true within a theory” (since every observation is itself theory-laden — to pick out “things” from the ineluctable stream of experience is to already have a theory of things), which is what led Goodman (I think) to say that “facts are small theories.” What’s neat about this is that our values and scientific methods are themselves under constant examination and empirical testing so in some cases they are actually quite “fact-like” even if formally we would call them “values.” I think this would have made certain philosophers very uncomfortable because you’re supposed to have laid out some methodological system from first principles before you ever get going on the project of observation and induction. But the scientific method is quite a bit more pragmatic than that — there are tons of feedback loops between observation and interpretation and further testing that make things far too complex for any first-principles account to handle. Lucky for us that we have smart people who get to make lots of observations over time.

    It’s my hunch that the teleological theories we’ve seen here won’t do very well with accounting for the levels of analysis and feedback loops we seem to observe and which seem to be vital to our current understanding. I’ll have to think about it some more.

    I think this shall be my last post in the thread. Thanks to everyone who participated; many thanks to Eric for hosting it and to Prof. Feser for dropping in in a spirit of congeniality. I learned a lot.

  248. 25 August 2011 at 02:50 | #248

    Michael Fugate: I didn’t assume you know nothing about philosophy. I assumed you know less than me, because I’ve spent my entire academic career studying it. In the sentence before that, I assumed that you know more about the details of biology than me, because you’ve spent your career studying it. YOU are the one who assumed someone who disagreed with you must be a know-nothing. Also, I didn’t simply assume you aren’t philosophically savvy: I concluded it on the basis of the opinionated, narrow, over-simplified, one-sided things you were saying about fairly complex philosophical issues about which even working biologists disagree.

    Moreover, both you and Rick Longworth seem to simply assume — in fairly rude terms, — that I’m either lying or deluded when I say that there is no mysterious intentionality hiding behind the naturalized teleology of function in biology, even when I explain the origins of function in the exact same mechanistic terms (natural selection operating on variation) that every working biologist in the world uses. Some of the words we use when we talk about function — down to and including the preposition for, it seems — are ALSO used to talk about intentional matters, but that doesn’t mean they exclusively and always imply intentionality. Neither English nor any other natural language has completely precise definitions — which is why scientists use technical vocabulary. But guess what? The technical jargon of biology is just as full of functional language with complex and potentially ambiguous implications as English — such as the word ‘adaptation’

    I keep making the same point explicitly and clearly, and you keep misreading it. I did not say that the reason nylonase underwent positive selection pressure in a nylon-rich environment was due to anything other than its physical properties. Rather, I pointed out that the physical properties of nylonase DID NOT CHANGE between when it underwent strong positive selective pressure and when it did not.* So what did change? The environment changed, which led to the frequency of the distribution of the gene for nylonase over successive generations. But why that particular gene for that particular enzyme? Because the physical physical properties of the enzyme produced by the gene included catalyzing a nylon breakdown reaction. In other words, catalyzing nylon breakdown wasn’t what the enzyme was for in the past (in a different environment), and then it was. When a gene that produces exactly the same enzyme goes from being selectively neutral (compared to a variant trait) to being strongly selected by the filter of natural selection because of a change in the organism’s environment, the property that it is being selected for is FUNCTIONAL in that new environment. Its function consists in no more than the particular physical properties that in the current circumstances provide the organism with a comparative reproductive advantage that it did not provide before. There is no mystery or intentionality here, but the selection is clearly for the function — and in fact, selection is what turns physical properties (the ability to catalyze nylon breakdown, in this case) into a functional properties: Without a comparative reproductive advantage resulting from the possession and action of a particular physical property, that physical property wouldn’t be functional for the organisms that have it. There is nowhere in that description for intentionality to sneak in, so if you are still seeing intentionality there, the fault lies in your vision.

    —–
    * BTW: I never denied that the whole genome undergoes selection at all times. I even explicitly pointed out in one of these posts that the nylonase enzyme must have been doing *something else* useful to the organism before nylon came along. I didn’t spell out that it must not have performed that other catalyzing function massively better or worse than a variant enzyme, because the gene was neither universal throughout the population nor completely eliminated from it — because I didn’t think I had to spell that out for the target audience.

  249. 25 August 2011 at 07:04 | #249

    ThePhilosopherPrimate. I get the point about something’s being selected for in a new environment — as when the “right” bacteria enters a nylon rich environment. But is this in an irreducible sense? In other words, in what way is this teleological? Those on the outside looking in may see this as a “sorting” process — it’s hard to get away from teleological language — but, as you say, from the inside, i.e, pertaining to the “essence” of the thing, there is no directionality at all; all you have is physical processes.

    Recall the metaphor of selection, in which Darwin begins by speaking about artificial selection by breeders. Now this really is selection. Someone sees a feature of a pigeon that he wants to enhance, chooses to breed those with that feature, and ends up with a new variety of pigeon. Now this looks like what is going on in nature. Something is selected for a feature that enhances survivability (leaves the most long-term descendents). But the feature so selected has neither purpose nor function (it has an outcome, but is just as purposeless as the sorting of rocks on the beach, at least in the long long run, because in the long long run we’re all dead, and so are most known species, just as one storm surge can wash the rocks all away.

    You see, if that is what Feser is arguing, then of course he’s right. The language of function is, in this limited sense, incoherent. But of course it’s not icoherent for us, since we see things in terms of purpose and function. We have evolved intentionality. It is we who attribute ends and directionality, precisely because we have evolved intentionality and purpose and meaning.

    My problem is that I see an implicit theological beachhead in the language that is being used, and, while I agree with Lennox, and you, that there is no necessary connexion between speaking about functional properties — which we do all the time — this language or meaning comes entirely from us, and is not a property of the systems we are describing, except from a point of view. In fact, in your footnote you show how imperial the language of purpose is. You assume that “nylonase enzyme must have been doing *something else* useful to the organism before the nylong came along.” But why? Perhaps it was only Monod’s noise, and until it got into a nylon rich environment it had no useful purpose at all. In a few generations it might simply have exited the the line or remained as junk in the DNA sequence. But if we think of things in a teleological perspective — forgetting that this is just metaphorical — we are almost bound to attribute function to something which may have none at all.

  250. 25 August 2011 at 08:04 | #250

    dguller,

    I find it really difficult to walk away from what I see as a misrepresentation, so here’s another comment after all:

    You wrote

    So, your position is that the causal regularities that we experience and infer are essentially projections of our minds, i.e. “imagination and speculation”.

    No, no, no. My position is that we experience regularities and we infer causal connection – because all we can do is infer causal connections. We can’t observe causal connection, because there’s no observation which can distinguish “real” causal connection from consistent correlation. The inference of causal connection is as good as it gets.

    It follows from this that they are not actually really present in the world, and so all scientific laws, such as conservation of mass and energy, have nothing to do with the universe, and everything to do with our subjective experience of the universe.

    No, it does not so follow. What follows is that we cannot know what the metaphysical nature of the universe is, because we do – cannot – have access to it. All we have is our subjective experience of the universe, so of course all our concepts of the universe are derived from our subjective experience. By what process could they ever come to be bound to the universe itself? And what could justify claiming that one’s concepts are derived from, or in any way reliably related to, the objective universe, without passing through experience and thus becoming subjective?

    If you don’t think that undermines science altogether, then I don’t know what else to tell you. Tell a physicist that quantum mechanics is in their mind and not in the world, and let me know what they tell you.

    Accepting that we are ignorant of the metaphysical underpinnings of the world we experience does no violence to science whatsoever. Science is not about metaphysics. And empirical observations of constant union, and inferences based on those observations, are not simply “in the mind” – except in the trivial sense that every thought and concept can be said to be “in the mind”. They are how we come to experience and understand the world, and there aren’t any other options available to us.

    The issue is whether our theories, whether deductive or inductive, are actually tracking real patterns in nature, or whether they are projections of our minds upon an incoherent Heraclitean flux.

    But the only way you have suggested to resolve this “issue” is to simply assert that the real patterns exist and that they are directed toward certain final ends by their inherent teleology. In other words, you are saying we should go ahead and project our concepts onto unknown reality, but we should pretend together that we are not projecting our concepts and instead pretend that those concepts are really there. Well, sorry, but I’m not really interesting in pretending.

  251. rick longworth
    25 August 2011 at 09:20 | #251

    You have now restated your description of natural selection in a way that makes me much happier. You have dropped the ambiguous terms like, “goal-oriented”.

    “Natural selection is a very picky, goal-oriented sort of sieve”

    You have not, in this new description found it necessary to emphasize that there exist non-physical aspects – which I might be interpret as meaning an abstract algorithm or full blown teleology – a la Aquinas. I think, at least, you agree that natural selection has no idea what it is doing when it becomes involved in organic change. It is for this agreement that I think the word “teleological” has been dropped from scientific discussions of evolution.

  252. 25 August 2011 at 10:38 | #252

    Of course, Steve, dguller is right in at least one thing. Hume did raise a problem for science, but the point is that he knew that he had raised it, and did not know how to solve it. He speaks of his sceptical moments, and finds it disorienting, and then he goes and plays backgammon with his friends, and the world goes on with the same regularity as before, and his bewilderment disappears. In that sense, Hume’s scepticism was real and profound.

    However, the point about Hume’s scepticism, besides, I think, showing, as you say, that we cannot know the “ultimate” metaphysical foundations of things, whatever it means to speak in those terms, is that it set a problem for science which was actually productive of and not subversive. It stressed the importance of not only of identifying regularities, but of showing that these regularities actually are what they seem to be. Without Hume’s warning in terms of the problem, as he saw it, of showing that one thing causes another — viz., the problem of induction, as it has come to be called (Hume only uses the word ‘induction’ once, I think, in all his writings) — science is open to all kinds of charlatans. It is the scrupulosity of science, and its being a cooperative venture in checking and rechecking its findings — thus establishing that there “really is” a connexion between A and B, which, to our experience, are wholly discrete particulars (which is why science does not simply codify our subjective experience, but very often subverts it) — that permits us to vest so much stock in its conclusions.

    So Hume’s philosophy, if his scepticism had been a premise in an historical argument, would of course have subverted science; but that is not at all what Hume’s problem was about. He knew that there were connexions, and that they were causal, but what did that mean, and how could it be shown? This problem, set by Hume, has had the effect of actually underwriting the scientific enterprise, because it was a problem at the heart of science that needed some kind of resolution. This is why Hume’s philosophy is so important, and why his puzzlement over causation has been so rich in consequences for our understanding of the world. In many ways the philosophy of science is still toiling over this problem, which is why Hume cannot simply be airily dismissed. Indeed, this is, to a large extent, I think, why so much of Aquinas’s philosophy was so breezily dismissed by the scientific revolution, because it didn’t ask the questions that people were beginning to ask, not only about the world around them, but about themselves and their relationships, personal, political and economic, but purported to answer them in such a determinate way. And, since history is not an argument, the refutation of Aquinas did not mean that scientists had missed the point, as Feser, I think, suggests, but only that they were asking a completely different set of questions.

  253. dguller
    25 August 2011 at 10:52 | #253

    Gordon:

    Thanks for all your time and effort in putting together your response. It was most thought-provoking and offered helpful criticisms of my position. There was a lot in it, and it would take me all day to respond, and so I will only respond to some selected portions of it, if that is alright.

    We have reached a stage where we are saying that the fact that things do what they do is the same thing as “directedness”: but it only means that we have observed that B regularly follows A.

    Not entirely. It is not just that we have always observed that A is followed by B, because no-one disputes this. Rather, it is about finding a way to understand why A is regularly followed by B, and how it is possible for this pattern to persist in the future.

    First, that there is something about A that has the potential to bring B about, and that all potential is a potential for something to become actual. That implies a directedness in A towards the possibility of actualizing B. That’s all that I mean by teleology. Not a goal, or purpose, or end, but only a pointing beyond what is actual towards what is possible, and that this is not just a byproduct of our minds, but a real part of the world that would be present even if consciousness had never evolved in any form.

    Second, that when we are confronted by A once again, our inference that B will soon follow is based upon either something real or something in our minds. Again, my contention is that the potential for A to bring about B is a real phenomenon of nature, and that this pointing beyond itself towards the actualization of a possible outcome is an intrinsic aspect of nature. I am not too sure where you stand, but if you disagree with this, then it seems that it is all in our minds, and fails to track real patterns in the world. In other words, it is a fantasy of our imaginations being projected upon a meaningless and incoherent flux of particular events with no connecting thread between them.

    In effect, the regular behaviour of matter and energy is being defined as “directedness”. But the regular behaviour of matter and energy is the result of (say) an electron simply being what defines an electron. That is all the “directedness” there is. Everything else follows.

    I think it is helpful to keep in mind that my conception of teleology is different from Feser’s. I think that teleology in the sense of actual A pointing beyond itself towards the possible actualization of B, for example, is operative on numerous levels of reality, and that the operations of lower levels can generate emergent properties in higher levels, but both levels have teleological process that I have described. None of those final causes, to use Aristotle’s term for such a process, is Final in the sense that you are operating under, which is that it is the only relevant and important possible outcome of any given event or entity. I think that there are numerous final ends, some dependent upon others, whether “horizontally” (i.e. one outcome depends upon being spatio-temporally preceded by another) or “vertically” (i.e. higher emergent properties dependent upon the behavior of lower events), and (again) none is Final. However, they are all real in the sense that they happen even if consciousness is not involved, even if consciousness can describe them in a variety of ways and different levels of analysis. What is being described and categorized is real, at least as far as I understand it.

    Here’s another way to look at it. Say you have three entities: A, B and C. How many objects are there? If you only count A, B and C, then the answer is three. But, if you consider combinations of these entities to also be objects, then the answer is 6 (= A, B, C, AB, AC, and ABC). But, if you consider different orders of the entities to be objects, then the answer is thirteen (= A, B, C, AB, BA, AC, CA, ABC, ACB, BAC, BCA, CBA, CAB). So, depending upon how you look at it, there are different answers to how many “objects” there are. However, that is just how we choose to categorize three real entities, i.e. A, B, C. Similarly, just because we can chop up nature in different ways, at different levels of analysis, and with different intentions, does not mean that nature does not have an inherent structure that we are studying that is independent of our minds. Atoms behave the way they do irrespective of human beings, but we can study them according to different frameworks, each of which brings out something useful, but only because there are real atoms with certain properties that we can understand in a limited way.

    So, do you agree that whether consciousness is present or not, there are real features of the world in which there are actual events that have the potential to result in specific outcomes under certain conditions, and that because those outcomes have not happened yet — because they are just potential — the actual event has a pointing beyond what is actually happening towards what could happen, and that this is an intrinsic feature of the natural world at all levels of analysis?

    The brittleness is a property of its molecular structure fully actualised in its being glass. Its shattering is a consequence of its brittleness (molecular structure) when it encounters a sufficient force. “Brittleness” does not imply “directedness”. It is simply a measure of hardness. It’s one of the things we mean by “silica”.

    You are absolutely right. I would restate my position as saying that a pane of glass is actually brittle, as you correctly state. However, brittleness has a teleological component in the sense that we have been discussing. Brittleness points beyond the actual, fully intact pane of glass towards the possible shattering under the condition of minimal force being applied to the glass. That is all brittleness means. It is not just a configuration of atoms and molecules in a particular arrangement, but rather what the possible outcomes that follow from that configuration are. And again, once you start talking about possible outcomes, then you are not talking about what is really happening, but about something that could happen, and that implies a pointing beyond the real towards the direction of a possible outcome. And that is all I mean by “teleology”. There is no goal, purpose or end, as you are using those terms, but only the directedness towards a possible outcome, and this restriction is why anything and everything does not happen around us.

    If there is a regularity where A is followed by B, why do you say that we have seen A, but not yet B? If A implies B, then there is B when there is A. If you are thinking of brittleness again, this doesn’t work. Brittleness is not a potential for shattering any more than translucence is a potential for permitting light to pass. If A has not yet been followed by B, that implies that other conditions are necessary. Therefore, A can only lead to B if C and D and E take place. (Glass allows light to pass only if light is bombarding it, glass breaks only if sufficient kinetic energy is applied, glass melts only if it is subjected to a source of sufficient heat, glass will hold wine only if its molecular structure provides sufficient rigidity and nonporosity and chemical inertness and so on and on.

    Let us say that an HIV infection is regularly observed to be followed by AIDS. Are you saying that if someone is HIV positive, then they necessarily already have AIDS? AIDS is not yet actualized at the time of HIV infection, but AIDS is now a possible outcome, given the presence of HIV in the individual’s body. That is all I meant, and I contend that HIV in an individual points beyond the HIV and towards the direction of the possible outcome of having AIDS, and that this directedness is present in the utter absence of AIDS. In fact, once AIDS is present, then there is no directedness, because AIDS has been actualized.

    “Pointing beyond itself”. This sounds very mystical. You are saying that the potential for a thing to do A under condition B is pointing beyond “itself”. What is “itself”? A lump of glass? What is “beyond itself”? Being lots and lots of pieces of glass instead of just one single lump? “Pointing”: as when the lump says “I could be simply hundreds of pieces of glass, given the right conditions, of course…” None of this is purpose at all, but it is an exemplar of what actually happens, and it is all that happens.

    As I mentioned above, what I mean that there is a difference between what actually happens and what could potentially happen. “Itself” just means what is actually happening. “Pointing beyond” just means that when something actual happens, then it does not follow that anything can happen, but only certain possible outcomes, and that the actual event points beyond itself towards what is not actual, but could possibly become actual. And none of this requires a consciousness at all. I think that it is an intrinsic part of nature, and actually serves more of an explanatory benefit than saying “that’s just what happens”.

    And I think that this raises the important issue of whether we should even try to explain anything at all. Should we just describe what happens in neutral language as one event following another? Should we even try to understand underlying laws of nature that are guiding the behavior of those events in a regular and predictable fashion? And is there a way to understand the world without making any appeals to the concepts of actuality and potentiality, because that is what you would have to reject in order to reject the type of directedness that I am talking about.

    And as for it being “mystical”, try explaining “charge” in a way that does not imply an underlying directedness that occurs independent of consciousness. That actually might be a good analogy for what I mean.

    I think you are wrong about “steps”. The world isn’t a tidy sequence of events; such ideas are what we think with. The world is a whole mess of interactions happening all at once in which we dimly perceive various patterns and after many generations of study have arrived at some fairly reliable idea of what is going on. The issue is the terms we use because they are all we have to describe what we see, and it matters if some people see effects where others see goals; our outlook determines what we see, and if what we really want to see is what is really going on then it matters how we look.

    I agree with you here, but it still follows that there are causal sequences that involve antecedent and subsequent events, and that they are operating according to various natural laws, which we have painstakingly discovered to be true.

    Well, I dispute that. See above. “Just how it is” is “just how it is”. At rock bottom, if the universe were directed by a supernatural being, that would be “just how it is”. If, on the other hand, the universe were just there, that would be “just how it is”. If there were purpose, or if there were no purpose, that would be “just how it is”. There is no purpose even in purpose. Even if God designed it all with purposes of his own, there would be no ultimate purpose. God’s purposes are just God’s purposes. They serve no purpose except to please himself, which has no purpose. Purposes serve no purpose. They just are. The universe serves no purpose. It just is. Things that look like purposes have no purpose. Purpose has no relevance.

    None of this is relevant to the sense of teleology that I have been discussing. And if you want to say that this is “just how it is”, then we should just stop all scientific inquiry and attempts to understand the underlying patterns around us. I understand that we cannot explain everything, and that there will likely be a number of brute facts that we take as givens, but contesting the use of actuality and potentiality as explanatory of what we observe does not seem to be particularly helpful from my standpoint. And denying that there are regularities that connect empirical events according to natural laws, which is what it would take to deny my sense of teleology, is just too high a price to pay to avoid the possibility of theism.

    But it isn’t a fact. The skin points towards nothing. It’s skin. It happens to be very lucky skin, but that’s how it is. Lucky skin survives, unlucky skin gets eaten.

    Skin has a number of actual features and potential outcomes, which skin can do that other organs cannot, which is why skin can only do certain things and not anything and everything. And the question to me is why some skin survives and other skin gets eaten? I don’t think it’s satisfying to say that is “just how it is”, and leave it at that. It seems quite clear that some skin in some situations improves the odds of an organism surviving in order to pass on its genes, whether by camouflaging it, or thickening it, or whatever. And skin that has the potential to be camouflage will only be actualized in the situation where it is in the appropriate background environment and in the presence of a predator. Without those conditions, it cannot be considered to be actually camouflaging anything, but only having the potential to do so.

    Is an animal a device for the preservation of skin? Is every cell in an animal’s body an unwitting member of an advanced civilisation? Is every gene?

    It all depends upon your perspective and level of analysis, I suppose. I would agree that since civilization requires biological organisms, and biological organisms are composed of cells, then cells make civilization possible, when you look at it this way. I don’t think that is particularly controversial, and follows from the fact that if A depends upon B, and B depends upon C, especially in what Aquinas would call a per se series, then C depends upon A. That does not mean that you cannot study A and B and C under different perspectives and assumptions, but it also does not mean that the relationships that exist between them are byproducts of our minds and not present in reality.

    No, but how are we to distinguish patterns that we objectively observe from patterns that we impute by reason of our tendency to look for them?

    By conducting a scientific investigation, which would involve careful observation, ruling out confounding factors, testing for predictable outcomes, and so on.

    And think about what it would mean to actually apply your standard here. We understand other human beings’ mental lives by virtue of mirror neurons that process the observed outward behavior of other organisms and activate our own affective responses, which is supposed to be the root of empathy and mentalizing. Sometimes this system misfires, and we ascribe intentional thought processes to something that completely lacks any. However, we are able to make this distinction and understand the difference between a hit and a miss. We can see where we truly experience something that is really there, and when we are projecting something that is not really there. According to you, this is impossible?

    And this is the problem. We have no idea whether there is such a way. All we can do is patiently observe, test our hypotheses, and try to understand ourselves and how we see things. That really is all we can do. Inventing the notion of final causes is interesting as an hypothesis, but is it true? It just has to be tested like everything else. So far, I can’t see any reason to suppose that it is true, and if it were, it would only be “just how it is”.

    So, for you, it is possible that all our centuries of scientific study and discovery of natural laws could conceivably all be in our heads, because there is no way to know if the patterns that we observe are real or imaginary?

    Any thoughts?

  254. dguller
    25 August 2011 at 11:51 | #254

    Steve:

    No, no, no. My position is that we experience regularities and we infer causal connection – because all we can do is infer causal connections. We can’t observe causal connection, because there’s no observation which can distinguish “real” causal connection from consistent correlation. The inference of causal connection is as good as it gets.

    I have a few questions. Do we experience regularities, or do we experience particular events that we then subjectively categorize as having regularities? If you agree that there are real regularities in nature that we can experience, then why not agree that we can observe a causal connection? What is the difference between regularity and causality, and why can we observe the former directly, but not the latter? And if there is no difference between correlation and causation, then does it follow that the night causes the day? And finally, when we infer a causal connection, is this supposed to be about the world independent of our preferences, or is it a projection of our preferences upon the world?

    No, it does not so follow. What follows is that we cannot know what the metaphysical nature of the universe is, because we do – cannot – have access to it. All we have is our subjective experience of the universe, so of course all our concepts of the universe are derived from our subjective experience. By what process could they ever come to be bound to the universe itself? And what could justify claiming that one’s concepts are derived from, or in any way reliably related to, the objective universe, without passing through experience and thus becoming subjective?

    I am not talking about the “metaphysical nature of the universe”. I am talking about natural laws and causality, and whether our subjective experience of them comes from us or from nature. If they come from us, then they are imaginary fantasies that we project upon the world, and if they come form the world, then they are accurate representations in our minds of something really happening in the world. I still do not know which of these two positions you endorse. Perhaps you can clarify?

    Accepting that we are ignorant of the metaphysical underpinnings of the world we experience does no violence to science whatsoever. Science is not about metaphysics. And empirical observations of constant union, and inferences based on those observations, are not simply “in the mind” – except in the trivial sense that every thought and concept can be said to be “in the mind”. They are how we come to experience and understand the world, and there aren’t any other options available to us.

    Again, do you think that our concepts of natural laws and causality refer to properties that really occur in the world that our minds are capable of discovering, or are they projections of our minds upon the flux of the world?

    But the only way you have suggested to resolve this “issue” is to simply assert that the real patterns exist and that they are directed toward certain final ends by their inherent teleology. In other words, you are saying we should go ahead and project our concepts onto unknown reality, but we should pretend together that we are not projecting our concepts and instead pretend that those concepts are really there. Well, sorry, but I’m not really interesting in pretending.

    Again, do you think that our concepts of natural laws and causality refer to properties that really occur in the world that our minds are capable of discovering, or are they projections of our minds upon the flux of the world? Sometimes you seem to imply the former, and other times, the latter.

  255. Michael Fugate
    25 August 2011 at 12:08 | #255

    Whatever – I was not rude to you nor did I accuse you of intentionality or teleology. You jumped all over me as if I didn’t know what I was talking about. Perhaps you should read what you write and what others write before you go off. Needlessly adding genetics to a description of selection – is just that – needless. Darwin didn’t know a damn thing about genetics and I believe he sufficiently described selection. One can get bogged down in details or one can get to the point. The sieve analogy explains selection pretty well, even if you don’t think it does. You are reading way too much into this.

  256. 25 August 2011 at 12:12 | #256

    dguller: it seems pretty clear to me that most people think that this thread is finished. Perhaps you should take the hint….

  257. dguller
    25 August 2011 at 13:38 | #257

    Eric:

    Without Hume’s warning in terms of the problem, as he saw it, of showing that one thing causes another — viz., the problem of induction, as it has come to be called (Hume only uses the word ‘induction’ once, I think, in all his writings) — science is open to all kinds of charlatans.

    Again, overstating Hume’s influence upon science. Do you really think that Hume was the only person to ever realize that it is precarious to generalize from particular cases to universal statements? This was a well-known problem in ancient and, especially, in medieval philosophy. In the ancient world, it was explicitly described by Sextus Empiricus (160-210), for example, and in much the same terms as Hume did.

    And if you want to look at the true origins of modern science, then you should look towards the Middle Ages, and such figures as Ibn al-Haytham (965-1040) in the Muslim world, and Robert Grosseteste (1175-1253) in the Christian world. You will find the modern concept of the scientific method described by them, including the role of controlled experiments, mathematical modeling, making predictions to confirm or falsify a hypothesis, the need for publication and confirmation of results, and so on. These ideas went on to influence modern figures, such as Galileo, Newton, Huygens, Boyle, and the rest of the modern scientists, and all by the late 17th century, and before Hume was even born.

    In fact, Hume’s influence upon science was minimal until the early 20th century when he was rediscovered primarily by the logical positivists, and it is no coincidence that their principle of verification is so similar to Hume’s assumption that X is real if and only if X can be ultimately traced to sense impressions. And their principle and Hume’s assumption both fail for the same reason, i.e. they cannot be verified or traced to a sense impression. And sure, some scientific luminaries, such as Darwin, have praised his work, but tell me any actual changes in their scientific practice as a result of reading his works, if you can.

    It is the scrupulosity of science, and its being a cooperative venture in checking and rechecking its findings — thus establishing that there “really is” a connexion between A and B, which, to our experience, are wholly discrete particulars (which is why science does not simply codify our subjective experience, but very often subverts it) — that permits us to vest so much stock in its conclusions.

    Agreed, but all of this was known before Hume.

    This problem, set by Hume, has had the effect of actually underwriting the scientific enterprise, because it was a problem at the heart of science that needed some kind of resolution.

    You keep forgetting to mention that Hume did not think it was a problem at all. In fact, his “skeptical solution” (in section V of his Enquiry) was that it just a psychological quirk of human beings based upon “Custom or Habit”. We just get used to talking about the world in such a way, and so it comes naturally and intuitively to do so, but the reality is that such talk does not actually refer to anything real in the world at all, and is just a byproduct of our imagination.

    What is fascinating about your admiration of Hume is that not only did he not discover the problem of induction, but his solution to the problem undermines all of science! After all, all talk about power, energy and force, for example, is ultimately about nothing, and are incoherent and nonsensical concepts that should be abandoned. Quick! Tell physicists! I’m sure they’ll all happily embrace Hume’s extreme brand of skepticism!

    This is why Hume’s philosophy is so important, and why his puzzlement over causation has been so rich in consequences for our understanding of the world. In many ways the philosophy of science is still toiling over this problem, which is why Hume cannot simply be airily dismissed.

    I did not “airily” dismiss Hume. I offered arguments for why his position leads to incoherence and absurdity.

    Indeed, this is, to a large extent, I think, why so much of Aquinas’s philosophy was so breezily dismissed by the scientific revolution, because it didn’t ask the questions that people were beginning to ask, not only about the world around them, but about themselves and their relationships, personal, political and economic, but purported to answer them in such a determinate way.

    That is probably absolutely correct.

    And, since history is not an argument, the refutation of Aquinas did not mean that scientists had missed the point, as Feser, I think, suggests, but only that they were asking a completely different set of questions.

    Except that “breezily” dismissing the ideas of an individual is not a “refutation” of that individual at all. I can ignore an idea and focus upon another, but it does not follow that I have refuted the initial idea. Certainly, you are correct that the early modern period in which Aristotle and Scholasticism were rejected was one in which the mechanistic conception of the world began to become prominent, mainly due to technological innovations in mechanics. The main rationale for rejecting Aristotle and Scholasticism was actually that it was unintelligible, which made sense, given the underlying mechanistic assumptions that were popular. It would be like atheism being looked upon as absurd in a community of devout religious individuals. I doubt that you would agree that atheism had thereby been refuted.

  258. dguller
    25 August 2011 at 13:42 | #258

    Geoff:

    Most people are free to do what they want. I will carry on discussing these matters with the few who wish to continue to do so. I hope that you might be one of them.

  259. 25 August 2011 at 14:19 | #259

    Dmitry, I just don’t have time for this. I beg you just to remember who it was who awakened Kant from his dogmatic slumbers. As for the rest, really, please do, give it one.

  260. GordonWillis
    27 August 2011 at 18:44 | #260

    @dguller #253

    So as not to disturb Eric’s well-deserved time off, I’ve put a reply here:

    http://schnackpot.blogspot.com/2011/08/universe-as-she-is-spoke.html

    Please note that I also will not spend much more time on this, but these, for what they are worth, are the “thoughts” you asked about.

  1. 23 August 2011 at 03:50 | #1

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