Showing posts with label Skepticism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Skepticism. Show all posts

October 05, 2021

Healthy skepticism about science and medicine

 


Healthy skepticism about science and medicine

Hendrik van der Breggen

October 5, 2021

 

In the past I’ve written about reasonable skepticism about radical skepticism (I argue it’s not reasonable to be radically skeptical, i.e., we can know some truths), but today I would like to make a brief case for reasonable skepticism about science and medicine.

To be clear, I’m not advocating for a radical or absolute skepticism about science and medicine; rather, I’m simply wishing to encourage a reasonable pause concerning science and medicine—a healthy skepticism.

To be clear, too, I think science and medicine are awesome. Science is a wonderful tool for understanding the goings-on in the physical world, and medicine has helped us immensely to be healthy. I am grateful for science and medicine.

Don't forget history

But I think history is awesome, too. The study of history helps us understand the goings-on in the past. We learn from the past, after all. And, as is well known, it’s wise not to repeat the mistakes of the past.

History, it seems to me, should provide at least some reasonable pause on contemporary claims of science and medicine. By reasonable pause, I mean (again) a healthy skepticism. Not an absolute or dogmatic or radical skepticism, but just taking some time for some caution for when science and medicine are promoted seemingly as gospel truth (as when we are told repeatedly nowadays to “follow the science,” as if taking some time for caution is anti-truth or anti-science or just plain dumb).

Why do I say this? Here are some of my reasons—reasons from history.

A few hundred years ago in science, it was once considered “settled” that the earth was the centre of our solar system. But now, thanks to Copernicus and Galileo and many other scientists, we realize this is not true (i.e., the sun is the centre).

Deadly medical advice

Not long ago, smoking cigarettes was considered fine—I remember advertisements featuring doctors promoting cigarettes. But now we realize that smoking has close causal connections with cancer.

Not long ago, too, the drug thalidomide was considered good and safe medicine for helping pregnant women deal with morning sickness. But now we realize that thalidomide caused deformities in thousands of children.

More recently, surgical “transitions” from female to male (and vice versa) were considered by many doctors to be safe and healthy. But now there is growing evidence this isn’t true. (See, for example, Abigail Shrier’s book Irreversible Damage: The Transgender Craze Seducing Our Daughters. Shrier argues that surgical transitions have serious harms.)

Also, abortion has been (and still is, sadly) considered “essential health care.” But now there is growing evidence that this isn’t true. (See, for example, my article Is Abortion ‘Health Care’? In this article I present evidence for thinking that well over 90% of abortions are not needed medically.)

What else are doctors lying about?

Moreover, in very recent history, medical groups such as Canada’s College of Physicians and Surgeons of Ontario (CPSO) have undermined public trust. For example, consider MAiD (“medical assistance in dying,” a euphemism for doctors killing patients). Doctors in Ontario who are now practicing MAiD are falsely reporting cause of death on death certificates. Indeed, blatant lying is promoted—required—by the CPSO.

My evidence: According to the CPSO website on MAiD: “When completing the death certificate physicians: a. must list the illness, disease, or disability leading to the request for MAID as the cause of death; and b. must not make any reference to MAID or the drugs administered on the death certificate.” (Bold in original. Reference: See #23 of CPSO on MAiD.)

Again: Blatant lying is promoted—required—by the CPSO. Alarmingly, when it comes to MAiD, lying has become a norm of practice for the CPSO. A reasonable question for Canadians to ask is this: What else are doctors lying about?

Yes indeed: What else are doctors lying about?

When political correctness determines medical correctness

Consider the origins of the Coronavirus. At first we were told by medical authorities that it originated in a wet market in Wuhan (and Facebook disallowed views to the contrary), but now it looks like it may have been a human made virus that was leaked out of a Wuhan lab (a lab funded by the US National Institutes of Health).

Or consider Covid-19 anti-lockdown and other protests. Anti-lockdown protests were considered threats to public health because of Covid. But then, other protests occurred.

The New York Times reports Catherine L. Troisi, PhD, an epidemiologist at University of Texas, saying the following: “I certainly condemned the anti-lockdown protests at the time, and I'm not condemning the [anti-racism] protests now, and I struggle with that… I have a hard time articulating why that is OK.” Indeed. Apparently some protests are more politically correct—and thus medically correct—than others.

The New York Times goes on to quote a letter signed by 1,300 epidemiologists and health workers: “As public health advocates, we do not condemn these gatherings [i.e., anti-racist protests] as risky for Covid-19 transmission. We support them as vital to the national public health.”

Go figure.

The self-correction process takes time

Yes, the argument can be made that science and medicine are self-correcting as more data come in and as more investigations occur. This is important and good, truly.

But, as history strongly suggests, the self-correction process takes time. In the meantime, when it comes to contemporary claims of science and medicine a pause for some reasonable doubt—healthy skepticism—is appropriate.


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Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is a retired philosopher who lives in Steinbach, Manitoba, Canada. One of his interests is and has been the history and philosophy of science. He is double vaccinated, and is inclined to think vaccinations are wise (depending on, in discussions with one’s doctor, whether one has a high-risk profile for Covid or not), but when it comes to Covid vaccine mandates (i.e., one-size-fits-all mandates), he thinks some reasonable doubt—healthy skepticism—is most appropriate.


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For additional thought: 

Byram W. Bridle, PhD, Associate Professor of Viral Immunology, Department of Pathobiology, University of Guelph, AN OPEN LETTER TO THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNIVERSITY OF GUELPH

Brownstone Institute, Natural Immunity and Covid-19: Twenty-Nine Scientific Studies to Share with Employers, Health Officials, and Politicians

Emergency of Under-Treatment – Panel of 8 prominent doctors and scientists say earlier treatment is the only way out of health emergency (45 minute video)


December 16, 2010

Skepticism concerning colours?

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, December 16, 2010)

Skepticism concerning colours?

I hope that readers are not tiring of my recent barrage of columns wherein I challenge skepticism concerning our knowledge of the external world. I am convinced (and convicted) that knowledge of the world external to our minds is important. Why? Because we can know (albeit fallibly and non-exhaustively) some truths about the world—and these help us to know, with further investigation, some truths about God.

In an attempt to put another nail in the coffin of skepticism concerning our knowledge of the external world, today I will address yet another skeptical objection, namely, the how-do-you-know-I-see-the-same-colour-as-you objection. The idea behind this objection is that because I don't know that you see the same colours of the external world as I do, I should be skeptical of my knowledge of the external world (at least in terms of colour).

Should we succumb to the how-do-you-know-I-see-the-same-colour-as-you objection? I think not. Here are four reasons which work together as a cumulative case argument to diffuse the objection’s apparent logical force.

Reason 1. From the fact that I don’t know what Joe sees, it doesn’t follow logically that I don’t know what I see. Yes, I do not know what goes on in Joe's mind, but that doesn't mean I don't know what I know. (Think about it.)

Reason 2. From scientific investigation of the world, we know the physical world well enough to realize (a) that a colour has a particular wave length which distinguishes it from other colours, and (b) that we humans are very similarly constructed (physically), and so (c) we have some prima facie good reasons for thinking that Joe is seeing the same colour as I am.

[A brief discussion of prima facie may be appropriate here. Prima facie is Latin for "first face" or "on its first appearance." In ethics, to say that action X is one's prima facie moral duty means that X is one’s obvious moral duty and so ought to be done, though X may yield to a more pressing or weightier moral duty Y. For example, if X means keep my promise to meet my friend for lunch, and if Y means save a child drowning in the wading pool, then, in the absence of circumstances that require Y, I ought to do X. When prima facie is used in epistemology (theory of knowledge) it means that a matter P appears self-evident or obviously true and should be accepted as such, unless a more pressing consideration Q outweighs it. For example, if P means I know I have a nose on my face, and Q is a good reason for thinking I don't have a nose on my face, then, in the absence of Q, I ought to go with what's obvious, namely, P, that I know I have a nose on my face.]

So, in the absence of good reasons for thinking that Joe isn’t seeing the colour as I do, and until we know of a more pressing reason to think otherwise (e.g., good evidence that Joe is colour blind), we should go with what seems obvious, i.e., that we see the same colour in the same way.

Reason 3. To think that the logical possibility of Joe's seeing a different colour constitutes good grounds for thinking that the colour is in fact seen differently by Joe and me is to confuse bare logical possibility with epistemic probability/plausibility.

[At this juncture, a discussion of the distinction between bare logical possibility and epistemic probability/ plausibility may also be appropriate. To assert a logical possibility is merely to assert a description that hasn't got a contradiction in it. For example, that the moon is made of cheese is a logical possibility. Of course, the mere assertion of this logical possibility isn't enough to ground our belief that it is actually so. On the other hand, epistemic probability/plausibility means that X is logically possible and we have other grounds for thinking X is true. So, for example, if the claim that the moon is made of cheese is epistemically probable/ plausible, then not only is it possible that the moon is made of cheese, but also we have actual evidence of moon rocks containing significant traces of Parmesan.]

Reason 4. Following an insight from the philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein (1889-1951), we can also point out that to imagine a doubt isn’t really to have that doubt. We can imagine, say, that the Statue of Liberty is a robot—but that's not really to believe it actually might be a robot. That is, we can imagine the doubt that the statue isn't really a statue, but that's not actually to doubt it's a statue.

So, yes, we can imagine that Joe and I see different colours, but that doesn't mean we should truly believe that Joe and I might in fact be seeing different colours. Simply put: imagining isn't doubting. To think otherwise is to confuse two distinct cognitive categories.

That's enough about skepticism (for now).

Christmas is a time when we celebrate the truth concerning the God who allows us to know Him. God has revealed Himself not only in the creation itself but also, and most clearly, in the God-man Jesus Christ—Emmanuel, God with us.

May the beautiful colours of the season add to our joy!

Apologia columns on radical skepticism:

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba, Canada. The views in this column do not always reflect the views of Providence.)

November 25, 2010

Nietzsche's Skepticism

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, November 25, 2010)

Nietzsche's Skepticism

The philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900) has influenced much contemporary philosophy by pushing it in a skeptical direction. How? Via his denial of objective truth and his emphasis on personal perspective. Today I will look at Nietzsche's views concerning truth and knowledge plus I will offer a critique.

Famously, Nietzsche asserted that "God is dead" and "we have killed him." The idea is not only that God doesn't exist but also that we have made Him irrelevant to our lives.

While some people might despair in facing an atheistic and ultimately meaningless universe, Nietzsche affirmed life. Indeed, according to Nietzsche, onto the flux that is the world, the human mind constructs order—invents interpretations—to serve the life interests and values of the individual. Moreover, there are only interpretations, no facts. Also, these interpretations are not for truth’s sake, but for survival, health, and the increased domain of our "will to power." In other words, our interpretations—i.e., our perspectives (interpretive judgments concerning facts and values grounded in our interests, background assumptions, conceptual schemes, languages)—do not correspond to reality; they are merely useful.

Appropriately, Nietzsche addresses the concept of truth: “What then is truth? A movable host of metaphors, metonymies, and anthropomorphisms….Truths are illusions which we have forgotten are illusions.” Nietzsche adds: “Truth is the kind of error without which a certain species of life could not live.” Moreover, Nietzsche writes: “There are many kinds of eyes. Even the sphinx has eyes—and consequently there are many kinds of ‘truths,’ and consequently there is no truth.”

Because different people have different styles of survival and health, which arise from their various subjective aesthetic values (tastes) coupled with the exercise of their will to power, the result is a plurality of perspectives, but no truth. Whatever interpretation serves one’s aesthetic interests in the project of affirming and enhancing one’s life is the way to go. Or so Nietzsche would have us think.

Should we agree? Surely not. Thinking people should be skeptical about Nietzsche’s denial of truth and Nietzsche’s perspectivism. Consider the following problems for Nietzsche's views.

Nietzsche’s denial of truth self-refutes. On the one hand, when Nietzsche says truth is mere metaphor or illusion, then Nietzsche’s claim, which purports to be true, is mere metaphor or illusion—i.e., not true. On the other hand, if truth is not mere metaphor or illusion, then Nietzsche’s claim is false. So if Nietzsche's claim is true, it's false, and if it's not true, it's false. Either way, Nietzsche’s denial of truth is guilty of a direct self-refutation charge—and so should be rejected.

Also, when Nietzsche says God is dead and not relevant, Nietzsche presumes that these non-existence and non-relevance claims are true—so Nietzsche’s claim about God indirectly refutes his denial of truth. Moreover, when Nietzsche sets out his will-to-power theory, he is presuming a truth position about this theory/interpretation actually being either simply true or pragmatically justified, which again indirectly refutes his denial of truth. Furthermore, when Nietzsche claims that there are only interpretations and no facts, he presupposes this claim to be in fact true, once again indirectly refuting his denial of truth.

Nietzsche’s perspectivism is similarly problematic. On the one hand, if there is no truth, then perspectivism isn’t true. On the other hand, if there are only perspectives (interpretations), then the thesis that there are only perspectives is a perspective too—one among many. So why go with it?

In other words, as philosopher Paul Copan points out, perspectivism faces a dilemma: “The perspectivalist either (A) says something trivial and thus not worth paying attention to (‘it’s all perspective, but that’s just my own individual perspective’), or (B) contradicts himself (‘it’s all perspective—and I’m speaking for all perspectives—so if you disagree, you’re wrong’).” Either way, perspectivism falters.

But perhaps Nietzsche (or a present-day postmodern disciple of Nietzsche) might reply that there is a missing option: (C) it’s all perspective, but it’s pragmatic for us all to accept perspectivism, for the sake of life. It turns out that this option is problematic too.

First, if C is set out as a truth and not merely a useful claim, then C self-refutes. That is, C would be set out as a non-perspectival truth claim about the usefulness of perspectivism, a claim that transcends perspectives, which C precludes (because, according to C, it’s all perspective).

Second, if C is not set out as a perspective-transcending truth, then the result is a debilitating infinite regress. That is, for us to accept C, C too must presume a perspective that makes it pragmatic for us all to accept it; but, then, that perspective must presume another perspective which makes it pragmatic for us to accept the perspective about perspectives; but, then, that other perspective…and so on. In other words, there is an infinite regress that makes C unintelligible.

So, if option C is the case, then either there is a self-refutation or an infinite regress. Either way, C falters too.

In other words, Nietzsche’s claim that it’s all perspective, all interpretation, doesn’t hold.

Therefore, Nietzsche’s perspectivism does not block our knowledge of the world. As a matter of fact, the obvious remains: there are truths, there are facts, and many of these can be known (albeit fallibly and non-exhaustively).

Significantly, these known truths and facts serve as the ground for interpretation to occur in the first place, and this allows us to do science, history, natural theology, etc.—and apologetics.

P.S. The above column is a slightly revised excerpt from my article, "Awakening from the Nightmare: A Critical Overview of Friedrich Nietzsche's Philosophy," which will be published in Christian Research Journal, Volume 34, Number 01 (January/ February 2011):34-41. If Apologia readers are interested in reading the whole of my article on Nietzsche (along with some additional apologetics-related articles), please be advised that Christian Research Journal can be purchased here.

NOTE: My article "Awakening from the Nightmare: A Critical Overview of Friedrich Nietzsche's Philosophy" is now available online.

Apologia columns on radical skepticism:

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba, Canada. The views in this column do not always reflect the views of Providence.)

November 04, 2010

Radical Skepticism (Part 4 of 4)

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
The Carillon, November 4, 2010

Radical Skepticism, Part 4 of 4: Linguistic Skepticism

Linguistic skepticism is a version of radical skepticism which says that we can neither know nor communicate objective truth about the world because of the distorting effects of language.

Today I will set out linguistic skepticism, plus offer a critique.

According to linguistic skepticism (which lurks behind some postmodern philosophizing), we think only in language, and language refers only to other language, so language is a “prison” (of signifiers) that keeps us from knowing anything outside language. Because there is no reference to an extra-linguistic world, and because words continually refer to each other, there is a never-ending deferral of meaning. Or, if there is a reference to the extra-linguistic world, that reference is clouded by our language, because vocabularies differ from culture to culture as well as reflect the purposes and perspectives of those cultures. The semantics (word meanings) and syntax (grammatical structure) of languages are social constructions (cultural creations), so the way people understand reality is dependent upon culture, which varies.

Consequently:

• There is no objective truth that can be actually known and communicated; each community merely has its "story" or "narrative" or set of "language games."
• There is no objective element to rationality; we reason in language, which is wholly dependent on, and varies with, culture.
• There are no objectively true ethics; values and moral principles are also wholly relative to language and culture.
• Power rules; the dominating cultural group ultimately controls the language (wittingly or unwittingly), so it determines “truth,” rationality, and ethics.

Thus (or so the argument goes) we should be radically suspicious of alleged knowledge of the external world.

Should we be persuaded by linguistic skepticism? I think not, for seven reasons.

First, and most importantly, the linguistic skeptic’s basic view of language is false. To be sure, language often refers to other language (check any dictionary) and language sometimes clouds our references to the actual world (check the flyers in your newspaper). However, it is simply not the case that language is completely defined by other language. There is such a thing as ostensive definition, i.e., we define our words by physically pointing at the extra-linguistic thing/s to which we intend our words to refer, and we can communicate such definitions without insurmountable difficulty.

Think of snow. We are not limited by language in our descriptions of it. We can increase our vocabulary for describing snow to reflect snow's extra-linguistic properties (e.g., its powdery nature, granularity, slushiness, stickiness, etc.). We can point to such properties, and, if necessary, we can even invent words or combine linguistic qualifiers with our words for snow to reflect a reality/dimension about snow that other observers have missed (as Eskimos seem to have done because of their attentiveness to snow).

Language, then, isn't a "prison" that always keeps us from reality; there isn’t an endless deferral of meaning. We can know reality truly (albeit fallibly and non-exhaustively), and reality can inform our language (if we are careful in our investigations). [It's not interpretation all the way down.] And so we can communicate accurate descriptions about the extra-linguistic world (at least sometimes).

Second (and closely related to the first point), although the semantics (word meanings) and syntax (grammatical structure) of languages are not absolutely fixed (i.e., they are contingent social constructions), it does not follow that our understanding of reality depends wholly on language and so is wholly socially constructed. Yes, labels and how they are used are in fact dependent on the language system in use and are in a sense arbitrary. The word “dog” is in fact an arbitrary collection of letters (in France “chien” is used, in the Netherlands “hond”). Also, the semantics and grammar we use with the word are conventional (culturally dependent, not fixed absolutely).

Nevertheless, such labels can refer successfully to extra-linguistic entities. Think of the dog down the street. Clearly, the dog itself is not a mere social construction—as the torn pant leg will attest. In other words, relativity of term selection and use does not mean that language cannot clearly refer to external reality nor that external reality has no clear say (or bite).

Third, we can legitimately ask: Is there really no objective truth? To answer this question, it may be helpful to look to Friedrich Nietzsche (1844–1900). Famously, Nietzsche wrote the following: “What then is truth? A movable host of metaphors, metonymies, and anthropomorphisms… Truths are illusions we have forgotten are illusions.”

We should think about Nietzsche's claim. When Nietzsche says truth is mere metaphor or illusion, then his claim, which purports to be true, is mere metaphor or illusion—in other words, not true. But if truth is not mere metaphor or illusion, then Nietzsche’s claim is false. Either way, Nietzsche’s denial of truth is guilty of a direct self-refutation charge, and so should be rejected.

The fact of the matter is that there is something called simple truth. Simple truth is the (correspondence) notion of truth expressed eloquently by Aristotle: “to say of what is that it is, and of what is not that it is not, is true.” We are all aware of this notion of truth, and we all use it in everyday life and in science: e.g., it's true that my desk is made primarily of wood; it's true that water freezes at 0° Celsius (under normal atmospheric conditions); etc.

Fourth, it is doubtful that we think only in linguistic terms. Yes, we often do think with language. However, we have all had the experience of realizing that words sometimes don’t properly express our ideas—which suggests that at least some of our thoughts are pre-linguistic. Also, many of us have had the experience of thinking in terms of non-linguistic images or pictures, which we later express in language, using, if needed, new language or a new combination of old language. (My PhD work was an experience of this.)

Fifth, the claim that rationality is wholly relative to the community/tribe is false. Yes, different cultures have different worldviews or philosophical/religious assumptions that influence their interpretations of what is real. Nevertheless, there are core elements of rationality that are independent of culture and can be used (along with our knowledge of truth) to test our culture’s assumptions.

For example, the principle of non-contradiction is a fundamental principle of logic applicable to all. The principle of non-contradiction states that nothing can both be and not be, at the same time and in the same respect. Upon reflection, this principle can be seen to be necessarily true. Can anyone be taller and not taller than his/her neighbour, at the same time and in the same respect?

Moreover, there exist various argument forms that are deductively valid and thus applicable to all, too. Consider the valid argument form modus ponens as instantiated by the following argument: If Fido is a dog, then Fido is mortal; Fido is a dog; therefore Fido is mortal. The argument is deductively valid everywhere and always. ("Deductively valid" means that whenever the premises are true, the conclusion must be true too.)

Sixth, that moral relativism is true can be seriously challenged. Yes, some behavioural norms vary from culture to culture (think of family honour, rules of the road). But surely, (former Colonel) Russell Williams’ murder of two women is wrong, period. Surely, Josef Fritzl’s 24-year imprisonment and ongoing rapes of his daughter are wrong, period. Surely, poking pins into a baby’s eyes for fun is wrong for everyone, everywhere, always.

Seventh, the fact that language and power are often intertwined is grounds for caution, not radical skepticism. People who have power—e .g., politicians—might use words that carry persuasive emotional appeals rather than truth: e.g., “only non-progressive people vote for [the politician you like the least].”

But the claim that language is wholly a power play and thus not capable of communicating knowledge is false. The truth or falsity of sentences depends on the reality of the world, not power agendas. That’s why we are able to check up on power-mongering politicians to hold them accountable. That’s why we can also check the claims of scientists and historians.

Moreover, if (contrary to fact) language were wholly a power play, then we should be skeptical of the linguistic skeptic’s arguments—because he/she would be merely using language to exert power over us.

In sum, we should thank the linguistic skeptic for encouraging us to be careful with language, because, yes, sometimes our language is imprecise, unclear, ambiguous, emotionally loaded, false, misleading, misused for socio-political ends, etc. Nevertheless, the fact remains that language need not and does not always blind us to truths about the extra-textual world, nor does it keep us from communicating those truths with a reasonable degree of accuracy.

Thus, because of its exaggeration of the problems associated with language, linguistic skepticism is deeply problematic and should be rejected.

It turns out that we can know and communicate much about the extra-linguistic world, albeit fallibly and non-exhaustively.

Significantly, this opens the door to the possibility of knowledge about God (or at least reasonable belief about God) and communication of this knowledge based on what God might happen to reveal via the external world, whether God's revelation is via the heavens declaring His glory or via Scripture's pages presenting information about the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

(For my Apologia columns on evidence for God revealed in the world generally and in Jesus specifically, look here.)

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba, Canada. The views in this column do not always reflect the views of Providence.)

P.S. The above column is a slightly revised excerpt from my larger article, "Reasonable Skepticism about Radical Skepticism," Christian Research Journal, Volume 31, Number 5 (2008): 30-38.

Apologia columns on radical skepticism:

October 14, 2010

Radical Skepticism (Part 3 of 4)

The above diagram is from Philosophy for Beginners, by Richard Osborne, illustrated by Ralph Edney (New York: Writers and Readers Publishing, 1992), p. 104.

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
The Carillon, October 14, 2010

Radical Skepticism, Part 3 of 4: Kantian Skepticism

Radical skepticism concerning the external world is the philosophical view that we cannot have accurate knowledge about the physical reality that exists outside our minds. If radical skepticism were true, then we could not know the external world. Moreover, if God were to exist, we could not know the external world's revelation of God, whether God's revelation is via the heavens declaring His glory or via Scripture's pages presenting information about Jesus Christ.

There are at least four types of radical skepticism. Last times we looked at funky/pop skepticism and sensory skepticism, and we found them to be problematic. Today we will look at Kantian skepticism, and we will see that it too is problematic.

Kantian skepticism is inspired by the epistemology (theory of knowledge) of the German philosopher Immanuel Kant (1724-1804).

According to Kant, all our knowledge begins with sensory experience, but the human mind, via its conditioners of sense-experience and its categories of thought, makes a significant contribution to this knowledge. In fact, these conditioners and categories determine for us what we can experience, and they shape this experience. Using Kant’s terminology, all we can perceive is phenomena (what our mind has conditioned and categorized), not noumena (the things themselves).

In effect, our mental conditioners and categories are like rose-tinted glasses. The glasses project pink onto all we see. Similarly, our mental conditioners project space and time onto our experience. Also, via our mind’s category of, say, causality, we project causation onto the events we experience. We project cause onto, say, a pool cue hitting a pool ball, and thereby we “know” that the cue “causes” the ball’s movement. Also, via the mind’s category of substance, we project the notion of material stuff onto what appears to be, say, a brick. We do the same with various other mental categories, such as existence. (According to Kant, there are twelve such categories.)

Better yet, think of our mental conditioners and categories as a meat-grinder/sausage-making machine. The phenomena of experience would be constituted by the ground meat (meat which ultimately is noumenal); what we know—i.e., the phenomena, which are the products of the shaping of the conditioners and categories—would be the sausages; the noumena, what is real, would be (besides the meat that’s been shaped into sausages and is only known as sausages) the stuff that does not fit into the grinder (e.g., the table, meat cutting tools, the butcher, bicycles, suspension bridges, etc.). So, according to this Kantian view of knowledge, no matter how much we grind, we cannot know the external world.

Should we be persuaded by the Kantian version of radical skepticism? I think not, for four reasons.

First, if Kantian skepticism is true, then science’s search for causal connections/laws ultimately is a search for connections/laws not really in the world but in our heads—which is plainly false.

Second, as philosopher Jim Leffel astutely observes: “The success of scientific technology is a strong argument that our perceptions of the world are relatively accurate.” Think of sending rockets to the moon, genetic testing for cancer, laser eye surgery, and the like. Leffel adds: “We couldn’t do these things without an essentially reliable correspondence between our ideas of reality and reality itself.”

Third, for Kantian skeptics to perceive that the mind cannot perceive things as they are requires that the mind can. Apparently, the skeptic can stand outside the meat-grinder/sausage-making machine to tell us about it. But the skeptic should only see sausages, not a meat grinder, meat, etc. Surely, if the skeptic can have this “outside” view, then so can everyone. The view is self-defeating.

[The previous point can be argued more carefully as follows. The Kant-inspired skeptic holds to the thesis that the world is misperceived by humans via their coloured and distorted concepts of it (hereafter, this thesis will be referred to as the Kantian thesis). In other words, the Kantian thesis has to do with a particular aspect of the world: i.e., that humans in fact misperceive the world via their concepts. Significantly—to gain traction—Kantian skepticism must involve an admission that we can know, via our concepts, that the Kantian thesis is true. However, this means that the skeptic presupposes an alternative non-Kantian thesis, a thesis which holds that humans, via their concepts, actually do know the world in a non-coloured, non-distorting way. Now, because this alternative thesis is not self-contradictory (and thus not knocked out of the explanatory competition right at the start); and because the Kantian thesis requires that the alternative thesis is true (albeit with respect to a limited domain); and because there seems to be no overriding reason to limit the domain of the alternative thesis in the way the Kantian thesis does: we can conclude that the doubt cast by the Kantian thesis onto observation is seriously weakened. But this means that it is quite reasonable to accept as accurate the everyday evidence that our observations of the everyday/scientific sort very apparently and very often are accurate.]

Fourth, Kant’s theory of knowledge faces some other deep problems. The categories of the understanding are supposed to apply to phenomena, not noumena. However, the category of causation is applied to noumena (as the cause of the phenomena). Also, the category of existence is applied to noumena too (noumena is said to exist). And so on. In other words, Kant’s view is contradictory in some of its crucial tenets.

Thus, it’s reasonable not to succumb to radical Kant-inspired skepticism. We can know the external world, albeit fallibly and non-exhaustively. Significantly, this opens the door to knowledge of God based on the evidence that the world provides.

Next: Linguistic skepticism.

P.S. The above column is a slightly revised excerpt from my larger article, "Reasonable Skepticism about Radical Skepticism," Christian Research Journal, Volume 31, Number 5 (2008): 30-38.

Apologia columns on radical skepticism:

(Hendrik van der Breggen, Ph.D., is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba, Canada. The views in this column do not always reflect the views of Providence.)

September 23, 2010

Radical Skepticism (Part 2 of 4)

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
The Carillon, September 23, 2010

Radical Skepticism, Part 2 of 4: Sensory Skepticism

Radical skepticism concerning the external world is the philosophical view that we cannot have accurate knowledge about the physical reality that exists outside our minds. If radical skepticism were true, then we could not know the external world. Moreover, we could not know the external world's revelation of God, whether God's revelation is via the heavens declaring His glory or via Scripture's pages presenting reports of empirical evidence about Jesus Christ.

Should we be persuaded by radical skepticism? I think not.

There are at least four types of radical skepticism. Last time we looked at funky/pop skepticism. Today we will look at sensory skepticism.

Sensory skepticism tells us that we cannot know the external world because our senses deceive us. (This species of skepticism, like the dream hypothesis discussed in my previous column, is inspired by the philosopher René Descartes [1596–1650].)

To understand the force of sensory skepticism, consider the following examples. While rowing my boat, I put an oar into the water, but then the oar appears bent. While walking in the countryside, I see a flat wall on a distant farm building, but as I get closer the wall turns out to be curved. While strolling along railroad tracks, I see that the metal rails look straight and parallel to each other, but then on the horizon they appear to meet. While driving my car on a hot summer day, I see water on the road ahead, but as I continue to drive I observe that the road is dry. While volunteering as a lab rat for a psychology researcher, I see a red six of hearts as the researcher flashes a playing card, but later the researcher reveals that it was a red six of spades.

Clearly, my senses do deceive me. Therefore (or so the argument goes), my senses should not be trusted.

There are three reasonable criticisms that can be set out against radical sensory skepticism.

First, always does not follow logically from sometimes. The fact that we are sometimes deceived by our senses does not mean that we are always deceived by them.

Second, to know that our senses sometimes deceive us requires that they sometimes or often do not. Indeed, for us to discern that I mistakenly think that the oar is bent, that the wall is flat, that the tracks do not remain parallel, that the road is wet, or that the card is a red six of hearts requires that we have clear and accurate sensory knowledge. It presupposes that we know—accurately—that the oar is in fact straight, that the wall is in fact curved, that the tracks are in fact parallel, that the road is in fact dry, that the card is in fact a red six of spades. The argument of the sensory skeptic, then, requires as legitimate and true what it purports to show is not legitimate and true. It self-refutes.

Third, because the argument for sensory skepticism very apparently fails, our senses’ prima facie veridicality—that is, their very apparent truthfulness—remains. In other words, the burden of proof belongs to those who deny the obvious, so the senses are innocent until proven guilty.

It is reasonable, therefore, to go with what our senses tell us about the world, as long as we have no overriding reason to doubt them, and as long as we are careful.

How does this relate to Christianity? Significantly, it turns out that the reports concerning Jesus' resurrection tell us that the witnesses carefully used their senses to ground their belief. According to the New Testament record, the witness testimony has do with that "which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we looked upon and have touched with our hands" (1 John 1:1). Also, this record tells us that the resurrected Jesus appeared to individuals and variously sized groups (1 Cor. 15:3-8), was seen to eat fish (Luke 24:41-43), invited physical touch (John 20:27), plus talked with the witnesses (Matthew 28:9-10, 16-20), all over a period of several weeks (Acts 1:3). The witnesses were so convinced by the proofs of the physical reality of what their senses perceived—proofs that Jesus was physically alive after His death—that they testified to the resurrected Jesus in spite of persecution and suffering.

If radical sensory skepticism were true, then the witnesses' suffering for the truth of what they heard, saw, and touched—so we could reasonably believe their reports—would be in vain. Happily, radical sensory skepticism is not true.

Next: Kantian skepticism.

P.S. The above column is a slightly revised excerpt from my larger article, "Reasonable Skepticism about Radical Skepticism," Christian Research Journal, Volume 31, Number 5 (2008): 30-38.

Apologia columns on radical skepticism:

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, located in Otterburne, Manitoba, Canada. The views in this column do not always reflect the views of Providence.)

September 02, 2010

Radical Skepticism (Part 1 of 4)


APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
The Carillon, September 2, 2010

Radical Skepticism, Part 1 of 4: Funky/Pop Skepticism

Radical skepticism concerning the external world is the philosophical view that we cannot have accurate knowledge about the physical reality that exists outside our minds. If radical skepticism were true, then we could not know the external world. (Moreover, we could not know the external world's revelation of God, whether God's revelation is via the heavens declaring His glory or via Scripture's pages presenting truth about Jesus Christ.)

Should we be persuaded by radical skepticism? I think not.

There are at least four types of radical skepticism. Today we will look at funky/pop skepticism (my label). Funky/pop skepticism is probably best explained by considering some examples. (The examples are a bit weird, hence funky. Also, contemporary popular culture promotes the notion, hence pop.)

Consider the movie The Matrix. In this story what we perceive to be real is merely a computer-generated illusion, but in actuality, each of us is floating in an amniotic-sac-like pod with our nervous systems and brains wired into a common virtual reality. Whatever we sense—that is, whatever we think we sense—is merely what a supercomputer programs for us to sense. Nothing we see, hear, smell, taste, or touch is real.

Prior to The Matrix, philosophers entertained the possibility that we are merely brains in vats, kept alive by a mad scientist who feeds us patterns of electrical impulses which mimic our sensory organs.

Consider also the possibility that you are at this very moment dreaming. This example originates with René Descartes (1596–1650) and has been recently revived in the movie Inception. Whatever you see, hear, smell, taste, touch—and read—is simply part of your dream.

How do you know that, right now, you are not in something like The Matrix? Or that you are not a brain in a vat? Or that you are not dreaming?

I might answer that I believe I am not in The Matrix because I haven’t yet met agent Smith. (Smith, according to The Matrix, is a representative of the supercomputer.) The skeptic responds that the supercomputer wants to keep me in the dark.

Or I might argue that I am not a brain in a vat because I can feel my skull with my hands. The skeptic answers that the mad scientist has wired me to perceive that I am touching my skull when in fact I’m not really touching anything.

Or let’s say that I argue that I’m pretty sure that I’m not dreaming because I heard my alarm go off this morning. The skeptic answers that it’s not at all unusual for one to hear one’s alarm go off in one’s dream.

Alarmingly (sorry), any evidence that I present against the skeptic can be subsumed under the Matrix hypothesis, or brain-in-a-vat hypothesis, or dream hypothesis.

Should I give up my knowledge of the external world?

Answer: No.

There is a reasonable way to answer the funky/pop skeptic. In fact, there are five ways, which together constitute a formidable cumulative case argument.

First, we can point out, following the philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein (1889–1951), that to imagine a doubt is not really to doubt. I can imagine that I am in a computer-generated world, but that doesn’t mean I really believe it. Simply put: imagining isn’t doubting. To think otherwise is to confuse two distinct cognitive categories.

Second, we can point out that if one were to be convinced of any of the above skeptical hypotheses, then one would be confusing logical possibility with plausibility/probability. Yes, it’s logically possible that the moon is made of green cheese (i.e., there is no logical contradiction in this claim), but from this it doesn’t follow logically that the moon is actually made of green cheese. In other words, the mere logical possibility of X is not the same as an adequate justification for X; therefore, the mere possibility of doubt does not constitute sufficient grounds for doubt.

Third, we can point out that there is no compelling reason to accept any of the funky/pop hypotheses: after all, all we have is the skeptic's mere assertion (of a mere logical possibility).

Fourth, we can point out that belief in any of the funky/pop hypotheses requires a denial of many of our prior beliefs that are logically incompatible with those hypotheses. Furthermore, these prior beliefs are not without epistemic weight—they also count as contenders for knowledge.

Fifth, we can point out that if, for the sake of argument, we accept mere assertions of bare logical possibilities as sufficient grounds for the truth of those assertions, then, to be consistent, we should believe all mere assertions of logical possibilities as truths. This, however, would mean that all logical possibilities are true, which is plainly absurd.

We would have to believe that The Matrix is true, and that the brain-in-a-vat hypothesis is true, and that the dream hypothesis is true, and that The Lord of the Rings is true, and that Batman is true, and that the moon is made of cheese, and that the moon isn’t made of cheese, and…you get the picture.

In other words, rational persons can weigh the pros and cons—in this case, one pro constituted by a mere assertion of funky/pop skepticism versus five cons or counter-considerations—to conclude that it is reasonable not to believe funky/pop skepticism.

We will examine some other forms of radical skepticism next time.

P.S. The above column is a slightly revised excerpt from my larger article, "Reasonable Skepticism about Radical Skepticism," Christian Research Journal, Volume 31, Number 5 (2008): 30-38.

Apologia columns on radical skepticism:

(Hendrik van der Breggen, Ph.D., is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba, Canada. The views in this column do not always reflect the views of Providence.)