Privilege and Possibility

Let me point out an insight that may help us to understand the connection between the arguments against skepticism and the issues regarding self-reference that came up in the recent question about the theory of types.

First some background. When Russel and Whitehead, about a century ago, formalized set theory, they ran into a problem. Simple assumptions about what could be done with sets led to contradictions. For instance, consider the set of all sets that are not subsets of themselves. Is it a subset of itself?

For non-techies, consider a similar paradox: We can define the term "self-descriptive" applying to words or phrases. For instance, "short" is self-descriptive; it is a short word. On the other hand, "a phrase in the German language" is not self-descriptive; it is not in German. Now, is the phrase "not self-descriptive" self-descriptive?

To avoid these paradoxes, Russel proposed a "theory of types." This was actually not a theory but a set of arbitrary rules designed to prohibit set definitions that involved self-reference. Similarly, Tarski developed an analogous principle for eliminating verbal paradoxes, based on the idea that no "language" should be allowed to refer to its own elements; to discuss that, one would use a "metalanguage."

How is this relevant to skepticism? The skeptic will claim that, for instance, "Nothing is certain" is not a statement in the group to which it is referring; it is of another type, a statement in a metalanguage, and thus does not contradict itself.

What is wrong with this view? Several things.

First, as previously pointed out, the theory of types is simply an *arbitrary postulate*. What the skeptic is really saying is, "I postulate that the theory of types is true, and therefore my statement is not self-contradictory." He might as well say, "I postulate that everything I say is true, and therefore my statement is true."

Second, it is questionable whether the objective of eliminating self-reference is achievable or desirable. Do we really believe, for instance, that the concept of onomatopoeia is inherently illegitimate?

Third, will Russell's method work at all? There are mathematical arguments that the theory of types cannot be made logically consistent. We can see where the problem might lie by considering an argument made against Tarski's scheme (by Hilary Putnam, of all people!): Tarski gives an account of what turns into an infinite heirarchy of language, metalanguage, metametalanguage, etc. *In what language is he giving this account?*

So, as V. I. Lenin liked to say, what is to be done?

The key principle to apply here is rejection of the arbitrary. Let me reformulate this in a way that may clarify what's going on in these arguments.

The antinomies of protean set theory, verbal self-reference paradoxes, and the self-contradiction problems of skepticism all arise out of the same error. This consists of giving certain classes of statement a privileged status.

When you argue with a skeptic, every statement you make is taken to bear a burden of justification. If you say that your perceptions tell you that you are an ordinary human being and not a brain in a bottle, you will be (quite rightly) expected to provide some justification, some evidence or logical argument.

But the skeptic has a double standard. He simply takes it for granted that *assertions of skeptical possibility are privileged and do not bear any burden of justification*. "It's possible that a demon is deceiving you." "It's possible that the sun could rise in the West tomorrow." "It's possible that you are a butterfly dreaming you are a man." These statements are considered to be *automatically true* and unchallengeable; it is assumed that they do not have to be proved or justified in any way.

This is the ultimate contradiction of skepticism. The skeptic, who claims to take nothing on faith, who asserts his unwillingness to believe anything that cannot be justified, rests his whole argument on an implicit but rigid dogma that asserts that a whole class of statements is necessarily true without the slightest justification.

When a skeptic attacks the possibility of knowledge from the senses, one can point out the error involved with the rhetorical retort: "I know that I am not a brain in a bottle because there's no such thing as a bottle; it's not possible for bottles to exist." If the skeptic responds that of course bottles can exist, he may be asked: By what means do you know that bottles can exist?

Returning to the theory of types, let's realize that the problem here is the same. The assumption that any set which can be defined according to certain rules must be a valid set is simply another privilege dogma. The same is true of the assumption that any statement which is valid according to some grammar is a valid statement. The correct way to proceed is to grant no privileges, but to begin from the premise that every proposition requires justification. If a mathematician proposes to define a certain set, that definition must be examined to see if it is self-consistent and consistent with the rest of set theory. If any statement is made in natural language, again, it requires justification, even if it is an assertion of possibility.

One more point before I conclude this already lengthy post. Ayn Rand constantly talked about "integration" of one's knowledge. She recognized that knowledge is, so to speak, not local, but global. We cannot fully validate our knowledge simply by taking a proposition and demonstrating it. To fully validate it, we must relate it to all of our other knowledge. One facet of the skeptical error is the attempt to atomize knowledge and validate it piece-by-piece without integration.

Ron Merrill

ronmerrill@bix.com

Privilege and Possibilty -- A Short Clarification

Let me briefly clarify some points in response to the criticisms raised by Per Christian Malloch.

When I say that "X is possible" must be justified, I do not mean that X must be justified. A statement of possibility is, itself, still *an assertion* which must be justified. Indeed, we take this for granted in most contexts. If a scientist says "it is possible that there is a black hole at the center of the galaxy," or "it is possible that this sample is cupric bromide," a justification can and will be demanded. In a courtroom, if it asserted that "it is possible that the defendant fired the gun," that will have to be supported. Only in philosophy does an assertion of possibility get (improperly, I argue) a free ride.

In short, I am not demanding that the skeptic give evidence that the sun *will* rise in the West; but I am demanding that he give evidence that the sun *could* rise in the West. I am not demanding evidence that I *am* deceived by a demon; I am demanding evidence that it is *possible* for a demon to exist and to deceive me.

Regarding axioms, it should be pointed out that though axioms cannot be proved (which would require them to pull themselves up by their logical bootstraps) they still must be justified. That is, an argument must be made to show that they are axioms. If I state that "everything is blue" and you challenge it, I may not just airily say "it's an axiom." If I want to claim that it's an axiom, I have to show how and why it is undeniable and inescapable.

SUSPICIONS: CONFIRMED

Many years ago *True* magazine used to have a cartoon series with the title: "Suspicions: Confirmed." A philosophical analog shows up in a recent exchange of letters in *Reason*. (July 1997, pp. 10-13.) David Kelley writes to defend some of his views against Loren Lomasky's review of *Unrugged Individualism*. Lomasky responds.

Two points are worth noting in Lomasky's response. He asserts that altruism (as Objectivists identify it) "is virtually nonexistent in the philosophical literature." Call it the Venticelli defense: "Nobody believes it in the world!" So much for Kant, Comte, and a host of followers! Here we see, as I have pointed out before, the typical academic response to Rand: Not to refute what she says, but to *refuse to address it*--even if it means relying on defenses that are just plain silly.

The second point gets down to the fundamental issue between Objectivism and academia. When, in Lomasky's opinion, will Objectivists like Kelley be accepted by the "greater philosophical world"? Not "until he is willing to toss overboard more of Objectivist orthodoxy and to regard Rand as simply one philosopher among others."

In other words, not until Objectivists abandon Rand's objective of making philosophy a true science, and instead accept philosophical relativism. Suspicions: Confirmed.

Ron Merrill

ronmerrill@bix.com

EVOLUTION AND DESIGN

In discussing evolution and the "design" argument, we ought to be aware of the current state of the debate.

Paley's "Watchmaker" argument has long been out of vogue, and in its classic form it has been thoroughly refuted. (There was a book, *The Blind Watchmaker*, by Dawkins if I remember correctly, specifically devoted to this project.) Every case of apparent intelligent design in biology (to say nothing of a number of very unintelligent designs!) can be shown to be a plausible outcome of "random" evolutionary processes. The only really outstanding question is the actual origin of life, which is difficult to analyze just because we do not know the environmental con-ditions under which it occurred. However, at least in principle even the formation of life from non-life in a favorable environment is to be expected from "random" processes.

In recent years, however, the Argument from Design has made a comeback, by invoking a different level. The Darwinian argument is that complex biological systems don't have to be designed, because they are the natural outcome of the underlying laws of chemistry and physics. To this, the neo-Designers respond: "You say, in effect, 'I can account for the watch; it came out of that factory [evolution].' Fine. Now, who built the factory?"

The argument, first brought out by Brandon Carter in 1974, goes something like this: Consider a simple physical constant like the speed of light, which we know is 299,792 km/sec. Suppose it were slightly different, say, an even 300,000 km/sec. Would the universe be different? We might think that it would differ only marginally from the universe as it now is. In fact, though, analysis of the physics involved shows that the effects would be dramatic. The speed of light plays a key role in electromagnetic and nuclear phenomena. In particular, even a tiny change, in one direction, and the nuclear reaction that causes stars to shine would no longer occur. A tiny change in the other direction, and nuclear burning would be so fast that stars would quickly exhaust their fuel and burn out. In either case, life would be impossible.

Further examination of the basic laws of physics turns up many more examples. For instance, the ratio of the gravitational and weak nuclear force constants must be "tuned" to an exact number, with a precision of one part in 10*100, in order for space-time to have the right "smoothness" for stars and galaxies to form.

In short, the basic constants of physics are not randomly chosen. Only by their having certain very specific values could physics be such that biology would be *possible*--and those are the values they have.

What, if anything, this implies, is currently under very active debate. Those who are interested in the subject might want to look at the following books: John Leslie, *Universes*; John Leslie (ed.), *Physical Cosmology and Philosophy*; Paul Davies, *The Mind of God*. In any case, though, it should be realized that the whole argument has gone far beyond Paley and his critics.

Ron Merrill

RELATIVITY AND QUANTUM MECHANICS EXPLAINED . . .

. . . in one easy lesson!

Actually, I just want to clarify a couple of points in response to Thomas Stone's post.

Relativity is very confusing and I don't claim to be an expert. What we need to keep in mind here, though, is the basic metaphysical underpinnings.

We all, I presume, accept the Axiom of Consciousness, which might be phrased:

If something exists, it can be known.

For if we believe that there is something that exists, but cannot be perceived by *any* consciousness in *any* way, at least in principle, then we must believe in some sort of Kantian noumenal world that contains such entities.

But if a statement is true, then its contrapositive is true. So:

If something cannot be known, it does not exist.

Now, this is what Einstein was relying on when he made his basic argument. What he showed is that if two events are separated by any significant distance, there is no way even in principle to know whether they are simultaneous. Any attempt to gain such knowledge will be subjective, that is, dependent on the frame of reference of the observer. But then no absolute time can be known; therefore, no absolute time exists. He then went on to show that if the rate of flow of time (so to speak) was dependent on local conditions in a specific way, then the objectivity of physics would be restored and all observers would agree as to what the time was in any specific location.

There's a little doggerel that goes:

Nature and Nature's Law lay hidden in the night.

God said, "Let Newton be!"--and there was light.

The Devil saw what happened, and with a little grin,

He said, "Let Einstein be!"--and all was dark again.

This is rather unfair to Einstein, who did not remove objectivity from physics, but restored it.

Now, as to quantum mechanics: Many Objectivists seem to want to rationalize QM phenomena by invoking the early Heisenberg argument that uncertainty in measurements is simply due to the fact that every measurement requires disturbing the system. In this view, the particle is "really" at some specific place, it's just that our only ways of finding that place involve hitting it and knocking it somewhere else.

Things aren't that easy. The simplest example is the famous Two-slit Experiment. We fire electrons, one at a time, at a surface that has two slits in it; some pass through the slits and are detected on a screen on the other side. A certain pattern appears on the detector screen. Now we close one slit and repeat the experiment. A different pattern appears. Open that slit, close the other, and repeat. What we find is that the overlap or sum of the two one-slit patterns is *not* the same as the two-slit pattern. In other words, as the electron goes through one slit it somehow "knows" whether the other one is open! This and many other physical phenomena make it absolutely clear that particles literally *do not have* a specific position in space.

There are all sorts of fascinating questions arising out of this, but the philosophical point is that QM phenomena really are "strange" and metaphysics is going to have to deal with it.

Ron Merrill

IN SUPPORT OF THE IOS POLICY

I've hesitated to get involved in this debate, as it seemed too trivial to deserve any of my time. But I found myself intrigued by the huge outpouring of postings on this subject, particularly in contrast to the way postings on important subjects, such as the foundations of metaphysics, generally drop into a black hole of silence. One of the things that Ayn Rand taught us is that when enormous effort is expended in argument over the unimportant--chances are it is something important.

English, like any language, is irregular; in fact, it is unusually so. There are many silly rules. For instance, in the sentence:

John Galt called Dagny a "scab."

--the period is associated with the overall sentence, not with the quotation from Galt, and therefore logically ought to be outside the quotation marks. But the rules of English require it to be inside. This is just one of many, many inconsistencies, which we simply take for granted.

One of the standard rules, which is by no means ideal, is that masculine pronouns are used where gender is unknown or not important. Of course, this could be changed, as many other things in English have been changed. However, to make such changes imposes significant costs (which is why they happen slowly and against much resistance). So the burden is on those who would change it to answer Francisco's Question: What for? *Why* change the language? Why change *this* single aspect and not its many other inconsistencies? (Such as the one which appears in the preceding sentence; did you notice it?)

The answers that have been proposed mostly boil down to: We should speak and write differently because it would please our opponents and, allegedly, make them more likely to listen to us. The fundamental principles involved in this issue I have discussed in previous postings.

The one really substantive justification for "gender-free English" is that the masculine pronoun default degrades women and reflects the evil patriarchal past of English-speaking cultures. I'm not a linguist, but even I can come up with an obvious counter-example.

Korean is a "gender-free language" in just the way desired by Feminists. Not only is there no masculine default for pronouns; pronouns do not reflect gender at all. (Other Feminist requirements are also in place. For instance, honorifics do not distinguish marital status, or even gender. Women automatically retain their maiden name on marriage. And so on.)

So traditional Korean culture must emphasize sexual equality, right? Wrong. Korea has long had one of the most viciously patriarchal societies in the world.

Since the alleged reasons for "gender-free language" are so plain silly, what are Feminists really after? Why do they bother? Because by changing the language one can change people's premises *without being exposed to debate*. Get a person to concede that he should use "he or she" and you have got him to concede that society and normal language oppress women *without having to provide any evidence or proof*.

The right way to respond, then, is obvious. The purpose of language is to communicate accurately and efficiently. We should be conservative about making changes in a language, even when they are improvements, because every change impedes communi-cation during the transition. There *are* good reasons to make changes at times; being politically correct is not one of them.

If there are implied premises in the way we use language--and there are, and should be--then they should be examined and identified *on the basis of real evidence*. If Feminism is to be the subject of debate, let's debate it in the open. IOS is right to refuse to let Feminists smuggle in their premises unexamined.

Ron Merrill

PRODUCTION AND REPRODUCTION

This is just a brief note in defense of Laura Rift regarding Jeff Diehl's criticism that she is invoking the good of the human species rather than the good of the individual.

Consider a somewhat analogous distinction from economics. At any given instant, the price of a commodity is independent of the cost of production. The manufacturer must sell his inventory at what the market will bear, and the price is set purely by supply and demand. But of course in the long run, manufacturers will not enter, or stay in, the business if prices are below the cost of production. So in a permanent market economy, prices are ultimately constrained by production costs.

Jeff's argument is along similar lines. He looks at the short-range context of the individual. He takes it as *given* that he exists and that he lives in a civilized society in which he can live a proper human life. His argument amounts to, "I'm here, this is my situation, and how I got here has no bearing on what I decide to do." Compare to the manufacturer who must dispose of inventory: "I've got a thousand bicycles that I must sell, and how much it cost me to make them has no bearing on what price I can get."

The question we ought to ask, though, is what kind of society do we want to live in, and what kind of morality must people practice for such a society to exist?

We receive enormous economic benefits from living in a society in which people choose to be productive. Indeed, as Ayn Rand pointed out, the best people, in a strictly economic sense, are "altruistic." The tangible economic benefits that other people receive from a Hank Rearden are far greater than the tangible economic benefits that he receives in return. This does *not* mean that Rearden is placing the good of the species or of society above his own; he receives intangible rewards, including the knowledge that he is accomplishing the best within him.

But we also receive enormous benefits from living in a society in which people choose to be reproductive. This includes, of course, our own existence as individuals! Those who have children may seem to be putting the good of the species above their own good; for, like Hank Rearden, they do--*in a sense*--receive less from society than they contribute to it.

Not everybody can, will, or should have children; just as not everybody can, will, or should be an entrepreneur. But what we owe the reproductive is the same thing we owe the productive: a moral sanction.

I particularly want to challenge this from Jeff's posting:

>In fact, there is plenty of evidence to suggest that having >children is a huge sacrifice since it requires the limiting of >flexibility and self-concern at a relatively early stage in >life, and therefore limits personal growth and actualization.

This reminds me very forcibly of some my Sixties contemporaries who thought having a career was a dreary sacrifice of "personal growth and actualization." Chained to an eight-to-five job for years; taking orders from a boss; standing at a lab bench all day running reactions--what a distraction from one's own self-fulfillment!

Self-fulfillment is not the same as self-indulgence. Yes, changing diapers is an unpleasant chore. So is synthesizing mercaptans. I've done both. Persuading a teenager to keep her room clean is a long, hard, aggravating process. So is persuading a venture capitalist to finance a ten-million dollar acquisition. I've done both. I do not agree with Rand that child-rearing is, or ought to be, a "career"--because it's a different *kind* of thing than a career. But, like a career, it's difficult and challenging, and very definitely permits--in fact, requires--personal growth. It has its tough spots, and it has its rewards.

One final thought: If "having children is a huge sacrifice" then it is irrational and immoral to do so. On this premise, one's very existence is owed to the wrong behavior of one's parents. Can we not detect here a whiff of stolen-concept fallacy?

Ron Merrill

THE JOURNALS OF AYN RAND

ARI is to be commended for publishing this material, which gives us a still clearer view of how Ayn Rand's thinking developed and how she went about her work. Editor David Harriman has included about three fourths of her "working journals"; he omits her personal notes, which are reserved to a forthcoming authorized biography. He offers little editorial commentary; too little, perhaps. It would have been helpful at points to have more information about the people and situations Rand refers to.

Most of this material consists of Rand's work plans for her novels. Also included is her rough draft for *The Moral Basis of Individualism*, her notes for a movie scenario about the Manhattan Project, "Screen Guide for Americans," and notes for her last, unwritten novel, *To Lorne Dieterling*. Unfortunately, there are no notes about her plays.

One is immediately struck by the amount of conceptual work that Rand put into her novels, particularly *Atlas Shrugged*. When she described Hank Rearden's ordeal in the quest for Rearden Metal--"driving himself through the wringing torture of: 'not good enough . . . still not good enough . . .'"--she knew what she was talking about! To read these notes is an education in how to organize a novel, how to portray characters based on psycho-epistemology, how to use plot events to illustrate ideas.

The philosophical notes which appear throughout give additional perspective on Rand's intellectual development. The most striking fact is the strong Nietzschean element in Rand's early work. This is--finally--acknowledged by Leonard Peikoff in his Foreword. As I pointed out in *The Ideas of Ayn Rand*, the influence of Nietzsche was reflected in Rand's early fiction by a malevolent view of society and a pessimistic outlook; this gradually moderated as Rand gradually dropped Nietzsche's viewpoint in her later career. In her pre-*We the Living* journals we see a confirming example. Here we find the notes for an unwritten novel, *The Little Street* (1928). It is distinctly Nietzschean in viewpoint, the story of a "superior" criminal who murders a lesser man by whom he has been "unjustly hurt and deeply insulted." It is also relentlessly negative, a bitter and cynical indictment of society. It ends with the "hero" killed by a lynch mob, lying dead in a gutter.

Following the notes for *The Little Street*, Rand appended an extraordinary personal self-criticism (p. 48). "From now on--no thought whatever about yourself, only about your work. You don't exist. You are only a writing engine." "*Stop admiring yourself--you are nothing yet.*" "Try to forget yourself--to forget all high ideas, ambitions, supermen and so on. . . . Try to be calm, balanced, indifferent, normal, and not enthusiastic, passionate, excited, ecstatic, flaming, tense." Both the notes for the novel, and the self-criticism, suggest that at this point in her life Rand may have undergone some profound emotional crisis.

In her first philosophical journal (1934) we see Rand coming up with the idea that power, achieved by pandering to the masses, is actually slavery to those same masses. This is the key to her characterization of Gail Wynand, of course. But it also is the key to her rejection of Nietzsche and her new conception of egoism. Ironically, Rand apparently took a long time to realize what she had accomplished. As late as 1943, there are hints that Rand was still thinking of her egoism as comparable to that of Nietzsche or even Stirner (!). (See the *Letters*, pp. 175 and 176.)

There is only a limited amount of new philosophical material in the *Journals*. Most of the philosophical analysis consists of early or tentative formulations of ideas that Rand later published. A few short passages, however, raise stimulating questions. Rand's 1955 notes on psychology and psycho-epistemology, for instance, illuminate the origins of "Objectivist psychotherapy (pp. 668-677).

Particularly intriguing is a 1946 note in which Rand toys with metaphysical dualism (p. 466):

It is possible that there was a sharp break, that the rational faculty was like a spark, added to the animal who was ready for it--and this would be actually like a soul entering a body. Or it might be that there is a metaphysical mistake in considering animals as pure matter. There is, scientifically, a most profound break between the living and the non-living. Now *life* may be the spirit; the animals may be the forms of spirit and matter, in which matter predominates; man may be the highest form, the crown and final goal of the universe, the form of spirit and matter in which the spirit predominates and triumphs. (If there's any value in "feelings" and "hunches"--God! how I feel that *this* is true!)

In sum, the *Journals* will be of greatest interest to specialists who want to understand the developmental details behind Rand's published work. But many of her readers will value this book for its window on the workings of a great mind.

Ron Merrill