Monday, December 3, 2007

A partial fix to Lewis's account of counterfactuals

A serious problem with Lewis's account of counterfactuals is that as Elga and Pruss have shown, Lewis's similarity account licenses errant counterfactuals of the form "Were B to occur at t1, A would have occurred at t0", where t0 < t1. A quick argument for this conclusion is as follows. We have good reason to think the universe's future is longer than the past. On the grounds of divine revelation this is clear: the future is forever but the world was created a finite amount of time ago. On the grounds of science this is also likely: the universe is expanding, and either it will extend forever, or it will eventually reverse and collapse, but even in the latter case we're not yet at the half-way point. Therefore, it seems, a world that exactly matches our world in all of the future but in very little of the past will always be more like our world than a world that matches our world in all of the past but in very little of the future. Hence, if we look at worlds close to ours in which the antecedent of a subjunctive holds, we will do better to look at worlds whose future matches the future of our world, and then retrodict to the past from the antecedent of the subjunctive.

But here is an interesting partial solution to this problem. Suppose we abandon Lewis's counterpart theory. Suppose, further, that we assume that all of the causal history of an event is essential to the event's identity. (It is plausible that some of the causal history is essential, but the possibility of drawing a line as to what is and what is not essential is implausible.) Now if exact match of spatiotemporal regions of worlds requires the numerical identity of the events in these regions, it is impossible for two worlds in which causation goes orthodoxly from past to future to match in the future but not in the past. The asymmetry in causation together with the essentiality of origins of events thus induces an asymmetry in counterfactuals, ruling out most backtracking counterfactuals. Of course Lewis wouldn't have liked this, since it means that causation is prior to counterfactuals.

Of course, other problems for Lewis remain.

Sunday, December 2, 2007

Is eternal suffering in hell infinite?

The damned will be in hell suffering forever. Does it follow that their overall sufferings will be infinite? I will argue in the negative. (I am not claiming that the suffering sin hell are finite, just that infinity of suffering does not follow from everlastingness.)

Argument 1: Suppose that the amount of suffering decreases exponentially to zero as time goes on. Then, it seems, the total suffering (the integral of momentary suffering) is finite, even though the suffering goes on forever.

This argument has some weaknesses. One of them is that total suffering is not just the sum of momentary sufferings. Such phenomena as boredom, dread of the future and hopelessness also have to be factored in.

Argument 2: What determines how much total suffering one has gone through is not the objective length of time that the sufferings have taken, but the subjective length of time. If one had a painful operation that in fact lasted an hour, but neurological manipulation made that hour seem subjectively like ten seconds, then one really had only ten seconds' worth of suffering. Now imagine that the internal clock of one of the damned is continually slowed down. During her first year of objective time in hell, she undergoes a year's subjective time of suffering. During her second year of objective time in hell, she undergoes half a year's worth subjective time of suffering. During her third objective year, she has a quarter of a year's worth of suffering. And so on. Even though she suffers for eternity, her total subjective time of suffering is two years. So, assuming that the intensity of her sufferings doesn't go up with time, her total suffering is finite.

An oddity about this scenario. If her future is subjectively finite, does that mean that her life feels like it is cut short early? But in fact she objectively lives forever. This is weird.

Saturday, December 1, 2007

Relative necessity and the ontological argument

The standard modal ontological argument (e.g., in Plantinga, with roots in Leibniz) says basically:

  1. Possibly, necessarily God exists.
  2. Therefore, necessarily God exists.
But here is something neat that hasn't been explored sufficiently and that I've learned from some remarks by my colleague Todd Buras. The modal ontological argument works with relative necessity in the place of necessity, where we say that a proposition p is necessary relatively to q iff q entails p. Relative necessity is weaker than necessity. In the cases I will be interested in, q is true, since anything that is necessary relative to a true proposition is true. The following argument then is valid:
  1. Possibly, the proposition that God exists is necessary relative to q. (Premise)
  2. Therefore, the proposition that God exists is necessary relative to q.
  3. q holds. (Premise)
  4. Therefore, God exists.
The inference from 3 to 4 holds because, by S5, if an entailment possibly holds, it actually holds. It's worth noting that the "Possibly" in 3 is not relativized, which is a good thing because relative possibility is stronger than possibility (just as relative necessity is weaker than necessity).

So, to make a modal ontological argument work, we don't need to establish that possibly necessarily God exists. All we need to establish is that possibly, God exists relatively necessarily, relative to some true proposition q.

One plausible candidate for q is the proposition is that I exist. For it might be that I find it conceivable that I essentially depend on God for my existence, and conceivability is evidence for possibility, so possibly I essentially depend on God for my existence. Thus, possibly, God necessarily exists (relative to the proposition that I exist), and hence God exists.

Thursday, November 29, 2007

An argument against psychological identity theories: accuracy and reliability of copying

According to the psychological identity theorist, if the contents of your mind (e.g., brain or soul) are copied into another mind (brain or soul), with the original mind destroyed, you will survive and come along with the copied contents. Now, plausibly, perfection is not needed in the copying. If one digit in the memory of your phone number is not copied over, and everything else is, then surely you will survive that, if you would survive any such copying operation at all. But some fidelity in copying is needed.

We can measure a copying operation in several ways. For any portion of the information to be copied (think of a 0/1 value or a continuously variable value, for instance), we can talk of the accuracy of the copying, which says how similar is the output of the copying procedure in fact was to the input, and the reliability of the copying, which is a measure of how likely it was that the output would have a given accuracy. (We can come up with various ways of quantifying this, but it doesn't matter.) Now, for a mind-copying to at all plausibly move a person from one mind to another, there has to be both overall accuracy and overall reliability. One won't do without the other. One could, after all, have very high reliability in copying, i.e., a high probability of accuracy, but be unlucky so that the the output is completely unlike the original. The psychological identity theorist would not say the person was moved then, since few of the memories and character traits would have survived. Nor would high accuracy with very low reliability transfer a person. Take a limiting case of low reliability where the output is entirely random and independent of the input. Nonetheless, one might be lucky, with the output by chance being just like the input. That wouldn't result in person-transfer, either. After all, if my mind is destroyed, and completely by chance a man arises randomly after lightning hits a swamp in Transylvania and that many by chance has the same mental states as I did, that man wouldn't be me.

So, we need both high accuracy and high reliability for person-transfer to occur. But now note that reliability is in part an extrinsic criterion. It measures the probability of accuracy. Suppose that you're undergoing a mind-content transfer procedure, and Dr. Black, the evil neurologist, after having starred in Frankfurt's Neurologist, XIII, happens to be sitting around in the lab. Now, almost all of the time when Dr. Black is in a lab when a mind-content procedure takes place, he hijacks the procedure, and ensures that while the subject's original mind is destroyed, the data transfered to the output mind in fact is a very poor copy of the subject--in fact, it is a copy of Dr. Black's vicious mind. This time, however, Dr. Black is distracted, and forgets to hijack the procedure, and only remembers once the operation is done. The reliability of the copying process is very low--Dr. Black was very likely to hijack it.

This leads to the following absurd conclusion. If person-transfer through copying of content is possible, then whether Dr. Black is in the room when the procedure happens determines whether the subject survives the procedure--even if Dr. Black in fact is distracted and in no way causally interacts with the process. Since this absurdity comes from psychological identity theories, we should reject psychological identity theories.

But what if one bites the bullet and says that whether Dr. Black is in the room when the procedure happens does determine whether one survives. Now I have a second move. What happens in copying is a causal process whereby an earlier mind causes a later mind to have the same content. The same thing is happening in us all the time. Our brain's having a certain neural state at t1 (e.g., a state correlated with a belief that 2+2=4) will often cause that brain to have the same state at t2. Our brains are always in a state of flux, and the brain's preserving of information is relevantly very much a process of copying. (Plato says something like this in the Symposium.) Suppose now that you live your ordinary life, but Dr. Black keeps on shadowing you, with his neurological equipment, and he keeps on planning to subvert your brain's data preservation processes, but whenever he is about to do so, by a very small chance, he is distracted and does not. In fact, Dr. Black does not interact with you causally. But his presence makes the reliability of the transmission of data from the past to the future in your mind be very low. By the same reasoning as above, it follows that the mere presence of Dr. Black kills you--even though he in fact does not interact with you.

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Eifelheim

I recently read, and very much enjoyed, Eifelheim (can be bought from amazon, or downloaded for free in pdf format from the author's literary agency), Michael Flynn's novel of aliens landing outside a Black Forest village in the 14th century. The best parts--from my point of view--of the novel were the interactions between the village's pastor, a man of formidable Parisian education (yes, this might seem unlikely, but there is a story there) and a friend of Ockham, and the aliens. Flynn captures cutting-edge 14th century scientific and philosophical thinking with great sympathy and surprising fidelity, and shows how a smart 14th century scholastic with Ockhamist tendencies would interact with 21st (or later) century science. We see the flexibility of scholastic categories, a flexibility that is going to be of interest to those of us still interested in a reconciliation between contemporary science and scholastic metaphysics.

I did not expect to read a novel that alludes to an Ockhamist argument against the possibility of nested accidents. (This is in support of an argument that the pastor gives against light having a velocity. The idea is that light is an accident of fire, so if light had a velocity, that velocity would be an accident of an accident, which is impossible.)

The medieval and alien characters are well-drawn and develop over the course of the novel. I was somewhat less happy with the portions set in the 21st century, but they were relatively briefer (and they may have been written first). All in all, quite an excellent piece of science fiction.

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

A defense of an ontological argument

Given an appropriate notion of maximal greatness, maximal greatness entails maximal greatness in all worlds. By the S5 axiom of modal logic, it follows that that if possibly there is a maximally great being, there is a maximally great being. Thus discussion of the modal ontological argument focuses on the possibility premise, the claim that possibly a maximally great being exists.

  1. If a belief that p is within the center of the motivational life of a person or community, and that life is generally flourishing, then, probably, p is possible. (Premise)
  2. There have been persons and communities that have led generally flourishing lives within the motivational center of which there was the belief that a maximally great being exists. (Premise)
  3. Possibly, a maximally great being exists. (By 1 and 2)
  4. A maximally great being exists. (By 3 and S5, as per opening remarks)

The idea behind (1) is that a life within whose motivational center there was an incoherent proposition would be unlikely to be flourishing. It would be a life that would, most likely, come apart. The flourishingness of a life is evidence of the coherence of the concepts by which that life is lived. And coherence is either identical with or evidence for possibility. In favor of (2), I cite such people as Francis of Assisi, Teresa of Calcutta, Jean Vanier or Thomas Aquinas, and perhaps such communities as the first generation Franciscans. And I even think the synchronic and diachronic Christian community over the ages, despite sins of many individuals, qualifies.

One might try to come up with parallel arguments for incompatible premises. For instance, deeply committed pantheists like Ghandhi appeared to live flourishing lives, and if pantheism is possibly true, it is true, a conclusion incompatible with (4). Two responses can be made. First, pantheists may well believe that a maximally great being exists, and think that the whole of existence is necessarily identical with it. So maybe what is at the motivational center of their lives is just the belief that a maximally great being exists, and the further claim that the whole of existence is necessarily identical with it is less central. This may not be very plausible, though. It seems that the divinity of everything is motivationally crucial to them.

A second response is to admit this. Yes, the existence of pantheists leading flourishing lives at whose motivational center pantheism was found give evidence for the truth of pantheism. So we have evidence for theism and evidence for pantheism. And maybe as far as this goes, the evidence is balanced. But, note that both the evidence for theism and the evidence for pantheism is evidence against atheism. We have evidence for theism and evidence for pantheism. Now we need to see what independent considerations we can bring against theism and against pantheism. (Note, for instance, that the problem of evil is more pressing given pantheism, if the world-deity is good.)

I doubt that there are people living flourishing lives at whose motivational center lies atheism. I do not here deny that atheists may lead flourishing lives, but I deny that if they do, their lives have atheism at their motivational center. For one (this suggestion is due to a grad student here), atheism is a negative doctrine, and lives centered on negative doctrines are unlikely to be flourishing. More likely, the motivational center is morality, love of fellow man, loyalty to friends, etc. In the committed theist or pantheist, these things are closely tied to the theism or pantheism. But in the atheist, these things are, I think, largely independent of the atheism, except maybe in the case of a kind of tragic loyalty in the face of the terrors of the unfeeling world, as in Russell, which I think is not going to lead a fully flourishing life, falling short in respect of the joyous aspects.

[Note added later: This was, of course, written before the revelations about Jean Vanier's abusiveness. I would certainly have chosen a different example if I were writing this post now.]

Monday, November 26, 2007

Every fact is normative

A sufficient condition for a fact to be normative is that it is a reason to do or not to do something. But a fact F is a reason not to deny that F obtains. Hence, every fact is normative.

Sunday, November 25, 2007

Parts and ownership

Some Aristotelians believe the following thesis: When a bit of matter comes to be a part of a substance, it ceases to exist. I.e., the bit of matter comes to be a part of a substance in the way in which a horse comes to be a corpse--the horse and the corpse are distinct entities, the corpse originating in the horse. If they believe this thesis, they have to give some explanation of why particles ingested can still be scientifically detected. They will do this either by saying that the particles no longer exist literally, but "virtually" do, or by saying that new particles just like the old ones come to exist out of the old ones, except the new ones have the essential property of being a part of substance that they have joined. There are two different reasons why one might believe such an outlandish thesis: (1) because one doesn't believe in parthood (Patrick Toner and Alexander Pruss incline in this direction), or (2) because one thinks that parts receive their identity from the whole (there is some textual basis in Aristotle for this).

I want to offer two arguments for this thesis, one metaphysical and Aristotelian, the second ethical and eccentric. I find the first plausible, and much less so the second, but the second is kind of neat, so I'll give it, too:

  • Matter receives its identity--that which makes it be the entity that it is--from the substance that it makes up. Therefore, if a bit of matter x is a part of substance A and a bit of matter y is a part of substance B, then if A is distinct from B, it follows that x is distinct from y. Therefore, no bit of matter can be a part of two substances. But everything that exists is a substance or a mode, relation, trope, accident or the like. A proper part of a substance is not a mode, relation, trope, accident or the like. Hence, if a substance has a proper part, that proper part is a substance. But the matter of a proper part A of a substance B would then be a part of both substance A and substance B, which contradicts the thesis that a bit of matter can't be a part of two substances.
  • This argument uses two main assumptions:
    1. Without receiving special normative power from you or some higher authority, the only way I can by myself make an item x that you presently literally own to cease to be literally owned by you is by destroying x.
    2. It is impossible for one person to literally own a part of another.
    Suppose now you literally own a carbon atom x (e.g., it's part of a steak that you own), and I without having received any special normative power eat the atom x so that it becomes a part of my body. By (2), I have made it happen that you no longer own x. But by (1), it follows (assuming I have received no grant of authority or the like), the only way I could have done this is by destroying x. Hence, when an atom becomes a part of my body, it is thereby destroyed.

Thursday, November 22, 2007

Evil, privation and disability

Theism entails that evil is not a positive reality, since all positive reality either is God or is continually sustained in existence by God. Augustine thinks that evil is a privation of good. A privation is more than a lack. Leglessness in a dog is a privation, but in a snake is just a lack. If evil were just a lack, then the problem of evil would be easily solved by the consideration that, of necessity, everything other than God is lacking, since only God is infinite. I want to suggest that seeing evil as a privation of good still helps vis-a-vis the problem of evil. This argument continues two earlier posts of mine on prosblogion which discuss an Augustinian theodicy (Part I; Part II).

Imagine two closely related alien species, the flerts and the grents. Both are four-legged, and have basically the same habits. Flerts and grents are solitary and reproduce asexually, never knowing their parents (e.g., the parents produce spores which mature away from them), but the flerts have wings in addition to their four legs and can fly away from predators, while the grents are confined to the ground. Suppose now that Gribby is a normal grent, while Flibby is a flert that, due to a genetic defect, never developed wings.

Winglessness is a lack in Gribby and a privation in Flibby, but unless Gribby and Flibby observe their conspecifics, they are not going to know this. It is not an evil that Gribby is stuck on the ground, but it is an evil that Flibby can't fly. But Gribby and Flibby look and behave in pretty much the same way. They eat the same food, they have to run from predators and cannot fly from them, and so on. They have the same joys and the same pains, and they live pretty much the same lives. All this makes plausible the following:

Claim: Flibby is not worse off than Gribby.

I think this claim is plausible. One might think that Flibby is worse off because he suffers from an evil from which Gribby does not suffer. But "suffers" here is a tendentious choice of word. There is no conscious suffering here, we may suppose. We could imagine that when Flibby is faced with a predator he feels an urge to fly and the inability to fly is painful to him; but we can also suppose--and let us do so--that Flibby also has a second privation, namely that his instincts to fly are missing. Flibby suffers from an evil merely in the sense that he is subject to an evil. But his life is just like Gribby's, and the concrete goods that Gribby's life instantiates are also instantiated by Flibby's life. Another way to see this is to imagine some minor concrete good that Flibby has but Gribby does not. Maybe, Flibby happens to be a slightly better at fishing than Gribby is. Then, if per impossibile we were choosing whether to be Flibby or to be Gribby, we would be very reasonable in choosing to be Flibby. But if Flibby is worse off than Gribby, he is significantly worse off--winglessness is not a minor evil. So if Flibby is worse off than Gribby, it wouldn't be all that reasonable to choose to be Flibby just for some minor concrete good.

Still, it's undeniable that Flibby is subject to an evil, while, as far as the story goes, Gribby is not. We now have two conflicting intuitions: first, that Flibby is no worse off than Gribby, and, second, that Flibby is worse off than Gribby, because Flibby is subject to an evil that Gribby is not subject to. I want to argue that the second intuition is mistaken. For Flibby has a more distinguished nature--by nature he has the dignity of being a winged creature. This good that he possesses, the good of being by nature winged, is a good that Gribby does not have. Because he has this good, he is capable of being subject to an evil that Gribby is not--viz., the evil of being deprived of wings. The additional good outweighs or cancels out the additional evil. Hence, we can consistently say that Flibby is no worse off than Gribby even though Flibby is subject to an evil that Gribby is not.

I want to suggest, now, that if Gribby would have no right to complain to God about being created a grent, likewise Flibby would have no right to complain to God about being created a flert without wings.

Evil is not just a lack but a privation. However, possessing an evil also means one possesses a certain good, namely the dignity of being such as to naturally have the good that the evil deprived one of.

In particular, it follows that while an adult whose intellectual functioning is like that of a child thereby is subject to an evil, the developmentally challenged adult is not thereby less well off than the child. (She may be thereby worse off if she compares herself to others, or if others treat her poorly.)

How far one can take these thoughts in the direction of a theodicy, I do not know.

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Taking up into language (Language, Part III)

We can take items in the world up into language. An easy, though very unlikely, example would be if I came across a bunch of rocks randomly deposited by an avalanche, and noticed that they were arranged into the shape of the word "here". I then took more rocks and added to the left of the ones already there "There was an avalanche" and then to the right of them I put a period. The resulting production would count as my inscription of the sentence "There was an avalanche here." That one of the words in the sentence was not shaped by me is irrelevant. I took something in nature which wasn't a word though it was shaped like a word, the word "here", and made a token of the word "here" out of it, without actually touching it. The bunch of rocks thus got taken up into a linguistic item, much like a stump can be taken up into being a chair just by my treating it as a chair--which can happen without my even touching it (e.g., I can treat it as a chair by trying to sit on it, but tripping forward accidentally).

Likewise, word tokens from one language can be taken up into linguistic items in another language. I can write a note by gluing in words cut out from newspapers, including foreign newspapers, and I can do so with no regard for what meaning the snippets had in their original language. Thus, I can take a German newspaper story about a poison, and cut out the word "GIFT" (which means "poison") from the headline, and then take some words from an English-language newspaper, and put together the note "YOU HAVE BEEN A GREAT GIFT IN MY LIFE." And, no, I wouldn't be saying that you've been a poison! The snippet would thus have been taken up into a new linguistic item. The original meaning of the snippets I use is irrelevant. New linguistic items are made of them.

We could say that the rocks in my initial example already were a token of the English "here" even before I got to it, and the token "GIFT" in the German headline was already both a token of the German "Gift" and the English "gift". I suspect this is mistaken. It makes sense to ask of a sentence token in isolation what language it is in, even if the orthographically or phonologically same sentence could figure in more than one. So that won't do. My suggestion is that we are mistaken in identifying the token with just the inscription. The token includes the inscription, but includes the context--and hence the intentions of the speaker--into which that inscription was taken up. If this is right, then once again linguistic tokens are more than just inscriptions and sounds, but include context, as in my earlier posts on language.

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

The Church of Christ "subsists in the catholic Church"

Vatican II's Lumen Gentium 8 says:

This is the one Church of Christ which in the Creed is professed as one, holy, catholic and apostolic, which our Saviour, after His Resurrection, commissioned Peter to shepherd, and him and the other Apostles to extend and direct with authority, which He erected for all ages as "the pillar and mainstay of the truth". This Church constituted and organized in the world as a society, subsists in the catholic Church, which is governed by the successor of Peter and by the Bishops in communion with him, although many elements of sanctification and of truth are found outside of its visible structure. These elements, as gifts belonging to the Church of Christ, are forces impelling toward catholic unity.
(I changed the capitalization to match the Latin.) Much discussion has been expended on the claim that the Church in the world "subsists in" the Catholic Church. Some interpreters took this as a weakening of the traditional teaching that the Church of Christ is the Catholic Church. On this reading, the Church of Christ is a larger entity, and the Catholic Church is a part of it. A fairly recent Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF) statement states that "subsists in" indicates "full identity".

I want to argue that the CDF is right on textual grounds (though the CDF is presumably also drawing on non-textual information about the intentions of the Council Fathers).

What does the mysterious phrase "subsists in" mean? Here we have to remember that at the time of Vatican II, the lingua franca of Catholic thought was Thomism. Even those who did not philosophically or theologically agree with St. Thomas would use thomistic vocabulary to express their views. The phrase "subsists in" is a scholastic phrase that Aquinas uses a number of times. Here are the claims I've found in my search of a lot of Aquinas' works (admittedly in English, but I am trusting the translators):

  • God subsists in his essence
  • The divine understanding subsists in itself
  • The essence of the Father subsists in the Son
  • Human beings subsist in their essences
  • Christ subsists both in a human and a divine nature
  • Things subsist in their being
  • A substance subsists in its species
  • The form of the angel or the separated soul subsists in the being
The first thing to note is that "subsists in" is linguistically compatible with identity; the divine understanding subsists in itself, and it is Aquinas' doctrine that God is identical with his essence. Most of Aquinas' uses of the phrase state the relationship between an entity and its essence or existence. A thing exists in and through its essence and existence, deriving its essential operations from that essence, and, except in the case of God, is wholly dependent on that essence and existence, incapable of existing apart from it. So, it seems, the Council is saying that the Chruch of Christ is either identical with the Catholic Church or exists in and through the Catholic Church, wholly dependent on the Catholic Church, incapable of existing apart, and deriving its essential operations from the Catholic Church, not as one thing from another, but as a human derives intellectuality from being human.

The phrase, thus, is compatible with identity as well with a very intimate relationship that isn't quite identity. We need to turn to context now. First, take the paragraph as a whole. The first sentence says that the "one Church of Christ" is "one, holy, catholic and apostolic". To read the text as saying that the Church of Christ is not identical with the Catholic Church is to attribute to the text the absurdity of saying that the "one, holy, catholic and apostolic" Church is not the catholic Church. One might try to distinguish between "catholic" in the sense of "universal" and "catholic" in a sense that indicates the Roman Catholic Church, but the text makes no such distinction, and it is fair to assume that the same word is used in the same sense in the same paragraph.

Next, take the phrase "although many elements of sanctification and of truth are found outside of its visible structure", which elements are described as "gifts belonging to the Church of Christ". This text, I think, does not fit well with the idea that the Church of Christ is the larger entity that includes the Catholic Church as a part of it. For if the Church of Christ were the larger entity, there would be no need to emphasize that the elements of sanctification and truth (I assume these are the many true and good things found in non-Catholic congregations) do in fact belong to the Church of Christ.

Moreover, the preceding paragraph introduced a distinction between the Church as a "society structured with hierarchical organs" and the "mystical Body of Christ", which two natures it says are not separate but form a complex entity, and are like the two natures of the incarnate Christ. The "society structured with hierarchical organs" surely is the Catholic Church. It cannot refer to some alleged larger Church of Christ that includes Protestants, since Protestants do not have hierarchical organs as Lumen Gentium understands them (Lumen Gentium understands the hierarchy as constituted primarily by the Pope and Bishops). But at the same time, this discussion of the Church as a structured society surely is the same entity as the Church of Christ "constituted and organized in the world as a society". Lumen Gentium's overall understanding of organic structure is hierarchical: the Pope is the principle of organic unity, and from him proceeds the unity of the Bishops.

So, the context leads us to accept that in the thought of Lumen Gentium the Church of Christ is the Catholic Church. But why, then, the use of "subsists in"? Here is a suggestion that may be completely wrong: Some of the operations of the Catholic Church (e.g., the sacrament of baptism) extend beyond the Catholic Church. Yet they always are the operations of the Church of Christ, and derive their efficacy from Christ's promises to the Catholic Church. It is not that the Church of Christ extends beyond the Catholic Church, but the operations of the Church of Christ do. And the use of "subsists in" makes possible such a distinction. This fits with the CDF's explanation, I think.

Free philosophy ebooks

Yesterday, I came across a link to wowio. They have a catalogue of free ebooks, including ones from major publishers. The ebooks are in PDF format, and come with an advertising page at the beginning and end. You can download three a day. Their philosophy catalog includes a handful of good OUP titles, by authors like Thomas Nagel, Terence Irwin, Philip Kitcher and Roy Sorensen. They also have Aquinas' De Malo. Other goodies, outside the philosophy section, include Hawking's The Theory of Everything. A good way to get to good books is to go to different subject areas, and then choose "Oxford University Press" as the publisher.

Saturday, November 17, 2007

"We want to live forever"

We want to live forever. What does that mean? First suggestion: I want it to be the case that at every future time I exist. But that's not enough. For suppose that time itself will come to an end in five minutes, and I will live for the next five minutes. Then at every future time I will exist, but my desire to live forever will surely not be satisfied by living for five minutes.

Second suggestion: I want it to be the case that at every future time I exist, and that the future be infinite. But that may be too much. My desire to live forever could, perhaps, be satisfied by the following scenario: I live in a universe with infinitely many very, very widely separated inhabitable stellar systems. After a year, I enter into a spacetime machine that can move me to an arbitrary point in spacetime, and this transports me back in time exactly one year (relative to some single reference frame) and moves me to another inhabitable planet, far from anywhere that I've lived before. I live there for a year, and this repeats. If t is a time two years from now, I do not exist at t on this scenario. However, I do live forever in subjective time--I have an infinitely long life, though it is all wound in on itself within a single year. Granted, it's a nuisance to have to get to know a new place every year, even though I do get to keep memories from the other places I've been. But this nuisance has nothing to do with the satisfaction of my desire to live forever. But I could live forever in the ordinary way, and have that nuisance happen to me--I could be every year transported to another planet, far away from where I have ever been before, but not transported back in time.

I want to suggest that it doesn't really matter whether I'm transported back in time every year or not. Third suggestion: What we want is an infinite future life, regardless of how that future life is arranged in spacetime. On this suggestion, it is subjective or personal time that matters vis-a-vis living forever. I think much the same is true with respect to many other temporally charged ethical matters--when only one individual matters, it is her personal time that matters, and when there are multiple individuals mattering, it is their group interpersonal time that matters (imagine a group of individuals all zigzagging back and forth across spacetime).

And if we have the idea that we should take as ontologically more basic what is more significant to us as persons (taking ethics as first philosophy, or something like that), then we will adopt personal time as the focal or primary sense of temporality. If we do this, we will be B-theorists, because we will have little need or room in our ontology for an objective impersonal moving present. I suspect this approach is faithful to both Einstein's notion of the relativity of time and to the basic insight in the Aristotelian idea of time as the measure of change (just take time to be the measure of change within each given substance, but do not insist on embedding these changes within a single temporality).

A related issue is discussed here.

Friday, November 16, 2007

Evolution and the Principle of Sufficient Reason

One of my graduate students recently suggested in discussion that if one rejects the Principle of Sufficient Reason (PSR), our knowledge of evolution may be undercut. We can use this insight to generate an ad hominem argument for the PSR. Most atheists and agnostics, and some theists, believe that there is a naturalistic evolutionary explanation of the development of the human species from a single celled organism. I claim that they are not justified in believing this unless they accept the PSR. But I also think (though I shan't argue for it here) that if the PSR is true, then the cosmological argument works, and God exists.

For consider what the argument for thinking that there is such an evolutionary explanation could be. We might first try an inductive argument. Some features of some organisms can be given naturalistic evolutionary explanations. Therefore, all features of all organisms can be given naturalistic evolutionary explanations. But this argument is as bad as inductive arguments come. The error in the argument is that we are reasoning from a biased sample, namely those features for which we already have found an explanation. Such features are only a small portion of the features of organisms in nature—as always in science, what we do not know far exceeds what we know.

Once we admit the selection bias, the argument becomes: “All the features of organisms for which we know the explanation can be explained through naturalistic evolutionary means.” There are at least two things wrong with this argument. The first is that it might just be that naturalistic explanations are easier to find, and hence it is no surprise that we first found those explanations that are naturalistic. But even if one could get around this objection, it would not obviate the need for the PSR. For the argument at most gives us reason to accept the claim that those features that have explanations have naturalistic evolutionary explanations. The inductive data is that all the explanations of biological features that we have found are naturalistic and evolutionary. The only conclusion that can be drawn without the PSR is that all the explanations of biological features that there are are naturalistic and evolutionary, not that all biological features have naturalistic evolutionary explanations.

A different approach would be to suppose that natural occurrences have naturalistic explanations, and evolution is the only naturalistic form of explanation of biological features that we know of, so that it is likely that the development of the human race has a naturalistic evolutionary explanation. But what plausibility is there in the claim that natural occurrences have naturalistic explanations if one does not accept the PSR for contingent propositions? After all, if it is possible for contingent propositions to simply fail to have an explanation, what reason do we have for confidence that at least those contingent propositions that report natural occurrences have explanations? If “natural occurrence” is taken as entailing the existence of a naturalistic explanation, the argument for an evolutionary explanation of the development of the human race becomes question-begging in its assumption that the development was a natural occurrence. But if “natural occurrence” is taken more weakly as a physical event or process, whether or not it has a natural explanation, then the naturalness of the occurrence does not give us reason to think that the occurrence has an explanation, much less a naturalistic one, absent the PSR. If we had the PSR in play, we could at least tryt o use some highly defeasible principle about the cause being ontologically like the effect, so that if the effect is natural, the cause is likely such as well.

Consider a final way to justify the evolutionary claim. We have good inductive reason to think that everything physical obeys the laws of physics. But everything that is governed by the laws of physics has a naturalistic explanation. Hence, the development of the human race has a naturalistic explanation, and an evolutionary one is the best candidate we have.

The claim that everything that obeys the laws of physics has a naturalistic explanation, however, has not been justified. The claim was more plausible back when we thought that everything could be explained in a Newtonian manner, but even then the claim could be falsified. Consider John Norton’s ball-on-dome example. We have a rigid dome, on the exact top of which there sits a perfectly round ball, and the dome is in a constant downward gravitational field of acceleration g. The dome’s is rotationally symmetric, and its height as a function of the distance r from its central axis is h=(2/3g)r3/2. It turns out to be consistent with Newtonian physics that the ball should either remain still at the top of the dome or start to roll down in any direction whatsoever, in the absence of any external forces. One might wonder how this squares with Newton’s second law—how there could be an acceleration without an external force. It turns out, however, that because of the shape of the dome, in the first instant of the ball’s movement, its acceleration would be zero, and after that it would have an acceleration given by the gravitational force. The physics would fail to explain the ball’s standing still at the top of the dome or the ball’s moving in one direction or another; it would fail to explain this either deterministically or stochastically. Thus, even Newtonian physics is not sufficient to yield the claim that everything that obeys the laws of physics can be explained in terms of the laws of physics.

And I doubt we do any better with non-Newtonian physics. After all, we do not actually right now know what the correct physics is going to be, and in particular we do not know whether the correct physics will make true the claim that everything that obeys the laws of physics can be explained in terms of the laws of physics. Besides, surely it would be an implausible claim that justification for the claim that the human race developed through evolutionary means depends on speculation about what the final physics will be like.

I do not have an argument that there is no other way of arguing for the evolutionary claim absent the PSR. But, intuitively, if one weren’t confident of something very much like the PSR, it would be hard to be justifiedly confident that no features of the human species arose for no reason at all—say, an ape walked into a swamp, and out walked a human, with no explanation of why.

Thursday, November 15, 2007

An ontological argument

  1. The best accounts of what it is to be a perfection all define perfection in terms of God: e.g., that to be a perfection is to be an intrinsic property of God, or that to have a perfection is to be like God, or that to have a perfection is to be God or to participate in God. (Premise)
  2. Therefore, the true account of what it is to be a perfection defines perfection in terms of God. (Probabilistic inference from 1)
  3. Either there is no definition of God or God is defined in a way dependent on the concept of a perfection (e.g., as the being that has all perfections). (Premise)
  4. If God is defined in terms of perfection, then an account of perfection in terms of being had by God is a circular and (hence) false account. (Premise)
  5. Therefore, God is not defined in a way that is dependent on the concept of a perfection. (By 2 and 4)
  6. Therefore, there is no definition of God. (By 3 and 5)
  7. If x does not exist and has no definition, then an account of a natural (i.e., non-gerrymandered) or ethically significant concept does not involve x. (Premise)
  8. The concept of a perfection is natural or ethically significant. (Premise)
  9. Therefore, if God does not exist, then the true account of what it is to be a perfection does not involve God. (By 6, 7 and 8)
  10. Therefore, God exists. (By 2 and 9)

The best way to challenge this argument is, of course, to come up with an account of perfection that does not involve God. This argument is also closely related to Aquinas' Fourth Way.