Tuesday, June 25, 2019

C. S. Lewis's Dangerous Idea (Chapter Five)

C. S. Lewis's Dangerous Idea (Chapter Five)

In this chapter, aptly titled "Explanatory Dualism", Reppert defines that concept and argues why the previous arguments from reason force us to accept some kind of explanatory dualism.

He is not denying that there are natural causes or the claim that human beings are partially governed by the laws of physics, but rather the claim that there is nothing above and beyond such mode of explanation. You have reason and free will and these resist any attempt to reduce them to something else, let alone something governable by the laws of physics (p. 87).

He shows that computers cannot be used to motivate a physicalist reduction (and preservation) of reason. That Deep Blue defeated then world champion Garry Kasparov at chess in 1997 "was not the exclusive result of physical causation, unless the people on the programming team (such as Grandmaster Joel Benjamin) are entirely the result of physical causation," which is the point at issue (p. 88). Moreover, it is clear that we compute with computers; that something is a computer is due to our say so: our intentions and activities. Hence computers presuppose mind, and mind is not a computer. Something other than matter-as-describable-by-physics needs to be appealed to to explain mental activity: hence, explanatory dualism.

Moreover, the existence of mental causation shows that there is something other than matter governed by the laws of physics. Reppert writes, "If the physical realm is causally closed, then it looks on the face of things as if it will go on its merry way regardless of what mental states exist" (p. 89). He quotes William Hasker on what the physicalist is committed to, "It is never necessary to go outside of the physical configurations and physical laws in order to predict future behavior of assemblages [of organic chemicals; i.e., living things]" (p. 89). Explanatory monism: You don't need to appeal to what such and such a thing was feeling, or what it was thinking, or what it intends. But of course, we both know we can and must appeal to such things, so we are left with explanatory dualism.

Reppert claims that, given materialists' aversion to teleology, the aboutness of our thoughts is impossible to account for in physicalist terms. Reference will always be teleological, and what accounts for it must be an intentional act (pp. 89, 90). Nor can you explain my intentional mental act (say a thought) in terms of my disposition to do this or that. There may be a connection between my having a thought and my having dispositions to act in certain ways, but there needn't be (p. 91). Besides, my dispositions would follow from my having the thought, but they aren't constitutive of it; nor can you reduce the thought to its effects (which is the error behind a Behaviorist theory of mind). Hence, to incorporate explanations in terms of intentionality into one's complete explanation of things is to embrace explanatory dualism. 

It is clear that there are things that are governed, whether in whole or in part, by the laws describable by physics; equally clear is that our thought process are often governed by the laws of logic. But the laws of logic just aren't physical laws. They remain different. So if you have something governed by logical laws and something governed by physical laws, you have explanatory dualism (p. 94).

In commenting on the idea that natural selection would favor reliable belief-forming mechanisms, he makes this interesting point. "The mere presence of survival value does not guarantee that we really have a naturalistic explanation on our hands" (p. 97). Suppose God gives some people manna from heaven, Reppert says, so that they survive and pass on their genes; but another group receives no such manna and they perish. The explanation of the outcome, the one group surviving and the other perishing, "is, in some sense, evolutionary," but hardly naturalistic (p. 97). Suppose that God made mind and also governs them via natural selection (or, per Hasker, made matter with an inherent disposition to produce soul [p. 104]). In that case, evolution could give us reliable cognitive faculties, but it would not be the case that naturalism is true. 

He continues his discussion of the reliability of our rational powers by noting that we take many assumptions for granted, for example, the uniformity of the past, without which we could not acquire scientific knowledge, but which are not the discoveries of empirical study. Why think that these beliefs are true if our minds are formed by a mindless process (pp. 98, 99)? 

Further, it is not as if natural selection requires true beliefs about our environment rather than "effective response to the environment" (p. 100).

Reppert argues that there are evolutionary reasons to think mere effectivity would be preferable to acquisition of true beliefs (p. 100), such as the longer period of vulnerability that follows the larger / more complex a creature's brain is (with largeness and complexity being preconditions for greater intelligence). If a smaller but dumber brain can produce the same effective response to the environment, natural selection would favor that one. He considers this a good prima facie reason to accept the conclusion that naturalistic evolution makes it very unlikely that our belief forming mechanisms are reliable; however, on theism, the odds are high that we would have reliable belief forming mechanisms (p. 101).

As for what exact form this explanatory dualism needs to take to account for our ability to engage in rational inference, Reppert is silent (in this chapter, at least). He aims to reject materialism and naturalism. Cartesian dualism, postulating some non-material, spatially-extended soul, idealism, theism, are all options at this point (pp. 101 - 103). He does conclude this chapter by saying, "Theism is a worldview that fits this requirement, though I have not attempted to show that it is the only one that does. Naturalism, theism's chief rival for the mind of the West, does not" (p. 104).

C. S. Lewis's Dangerous Idea (Chapter Four)

C. S. Lewis's Dangerous Idea (Chapter Four)

Reppert divides his case against naturalism into three parts: (1) establishing that there are processes or parts of reasoning that are essential to our ability to make rational inferences, (2) show that these cannot be eliminated or reduced to anything non-purposive, (3) "show that theism (or some mentalistic worldview) is necessary to account for these" features or preconditions of our ability to make rational inferences (p. 72).

Reppert identifies nine implications of our ability to engage in rational inferences (p. 73):
1. States of mind have a relation to the world we call intentionality, or about-ness.
2. Thoughts and beliefs can be either true or false.
3. Human beings can be in the condition of accepting, rejecting or suspending belief about propositions.
4. Logical laws exist.
5. Human beings are capable of apprehending logical laws.
6. The state of accepting the truth of a proposition plays a crucial causal role in the production of other beliefs, and the propositional content of mental states is relevant to the playing of this causal role.
7. The apprehension of logical laws plays a causal role in the acceptance of the conclusion of the argument as true.
8. The same individual entertains thoughts of the premises and then draws the conclusions.
9. Our process of reasoning provides us with a systematically reliable way of understanding the world around us.
Reppert then proceeds to go down the list to find if materialism can accommodate these facets of our rational life. Hint: he isn't too optimistic about the prospects.

Intentionality
C. S. Lewis argued that it makes no sense to say that a physical state is about anything else (at least not given materialist commitments). I would put things this way: the brain (or anything, really) qua matter-as-described-by-physics is not about anything. Reppert writes, "The laws of physics govern these physical [brain] states without any reference to what they are 'about.'" If you're calculating with how much force a book dropped from the top of some building will hit someone in the head, you don't need to know if it's C. S. Lewis's Dangerous Idea or Darwin's Dangerous Idea (i. e. what the book is about), only its mass and things like its shape (if wind resistance is at issue). This is to say, the level of reality describable by physics has no determinate or intrinsic meaning to it (p. 74). If this is so, we can make the following argument (p. 75):
1. If naturalism is true, then there is no fact of the matter as to what someone's thoughts or statement is about.
2. But there are facts about what someone's thought is about. (Implied by the existence of rational inference.)
3. Therefore, naturalism is false.
In case you don't see why (2) follows from the existence of rational inference, consider that in order to make a sound deductive inference you must have (1) clear, unequivocal terms, (2) true premises, (3) a valid logical structure. But if the level of reality described by physics can give us no meaning, or at least no determinate meaning, then you'll be equivocating in your terminology, never able to express this proposition (as opposed to no proposition or any number of other propositions), and never able to reason according to the form of modus ponens. That is to say, you could never make a sound deductive inference. That materialism tends toward elimintativism or making the mental epiphenominal certainly doesn't knock against the first premise of his argument, either.

Truth
Propositions can be true or false. Our beliefs can be insofar as they either contain or point to those propositions. But, if we struggle to find any real intentionality in nature, because it disappears at the level describe by physics, it seems we have to eliminate truth; some naturalists are willing - almost eager - to do just that (p. 76). But that is a high price to pay; besides, eliminativists are asking us not to believe in them (pp. 77,78). The only question is if materialist can avoid eliminativism. His argument, for those interested is (p. 77):
1. If naturalism is true, then no states of the person can be either true or false.
2. Some states of the person can be true or false. (Implied by the existence of rational inference.)
3. Therefore, naturalism is false.
Are the pixels you're reading true? No. The words of course are, unless words are nothing but pixels (or ink or vibrations in the air), then we might just have some problems. And, I suppose if we can't make words be about something, we will have some problems. Sure, words are extrinsically about something, but that just presupposes intrinsic intentionality somewhere along the line, or rather at its beginning.

Mental Causation
Mental causation seems hard to deny, particularing if one looks within themselves when they act or reason. Indeed, it seems necessary for us to engage in rational inferences, such as reasoning deductively. Reppert writes, "One mental event must cause another mental event in virtue of the propositional content of those events" (p. 78; emphasis mine).[1] Unless the mental state causes another in virtue of its propositional content, then the content of the mental state is accidental to the production of further mental states or actions, in the way that the whiteness of a baseball is accidental to (read: irrelevant to) a baseball's ability to break a window (p. 78). 

This is just to say that unless mental states can cause other mental states or actions in virtue of their content, they'd epiphenominal. Things would proceed exactly as they do if the mental states were not there or had different contents. And that is an unacceptable position to be in. A view like anomalous monism (a nonreductive materialist philosophy of mind) fails for this reason, thinks Reppert (p. 79). His argument is (p. 80):
1. If naturalism is true, then no event can cause another event in virtue of its propositional content.
2. But some events do cause other events in virtue of their propositional content. (Implied by the existence of rational inference.)
3. Therefore, naturalism is false.
Logical Laws
Granting for the sake of this argument that naturalism can account for true mental causation, Reppert still argues that mental causation according to logical laws is impossible for naturalism; one has to become at least a Platonist (p. 81). Why? Because logical laws are not physical things, nor physical laws! Hence, if our thinking can truly follow logical laws, you cannot reduce this behavior to brain states acting merely in accordance with physical laws; physical laws and logical laws are irreducibly different.

Indeed, Reppert believes that even to posit logical laws as real is not enough, bad as that is for naturalism. We also must know them. But on naturalism, how do we ever come to know them? "The only acceptable physicalist analysis of knowledge," he writes, "would have to be some kind of causal interaction between the brian and the object of knowledge." But if causation within the world is closed and only of the kind described by physics (as materialism claims), the best naturalism can do is say that we come into physical causal relations with logical laws; but that makes no sense (p. 81). And don't even try to argue (and hence reason according to logical laws) that logical laws are not real (pp. 81, 82)! He argues (p. 82):
1. If naturalism is true, then logical laws either do no exist or are irrelevant to the formation of beliefs.
2. But logical laws are relevant to the formation of beliefs. (Implied by the existence of rational inference.)
3. Therefore, naturalism is false.
Unity of Consciousness
Here I will present his summarized argument first and then explain it (p. 84):
1. If naturalism is true, there is no single metaphysically unified entity that accepts the premises, perceives the logical connection between them and draws the conclusion.[2]
2. But there is a single metaphysically unified entity that accepts the premises, perceives the logical connection between them and draws the conclusion. (Implied by the existence of rational inference.)
3. Therefore, naturalism is false.
Now, it seems obvious that the brain is one thing, or that there is at least one thing which can interact with the brain. If so, we have our one metaphysically unified thing that can have unified conscious experience of disparate things (color, shappe, weight) or jointly hold together premise, conclusion, their logical relation, and conclude that "since Q is true, then P must be also" (p. 82). But, given physicalism, what could this one thing be? Well, it certainly is not something interacting with the brain, as that's, you know, one of those spooky ghosts in the machine unscientific people belief in. So it must be the brain (p. 83).

But here comes the problem says Reppert. The brain has various parts and subsystems. To go back to my illustration of a complex awareness (singular) of sensations, part of the brain processes light, another part processes sound, and another . . . but where do we have the complex awareness of all of these? At best we can have a complex of awarenesses (plural) assuming parts of the brain can themselves be aware, but then what of the I (the self - a unified thing) that is aware of all of these together? 

The same goes for the complex awareness we have when apprehending two propositions, their logical relation, and concluding that since one is true the other must be too. Sure, one part of the brain might know (again, granting that a part can know to begin with - a dubious enough claim) this proposition, and another know that proposition, and another might know the relation between the two, but now that complex awareness we spoke of has vanished. Reppert writes, "It makes no sense to 'parcel out' a complex awareness to parts that lack a comprehensive awareness" (p. 83).

He gives an analogy of a class where each person knows one answer to a test; even assuming that there are as many students as there are questions, it doesn't follow that there is something (some one, metaphysically unified thing) that knows all the answers to the test. The class doesn't have awareness, only the individuals in the class do; but then we have don't have a complex, simultaneous awareness of all the answers to the test. This is what, he says, physicalism is reduced to at best (p. 83).

He quotes Stewart Goetz to the effect that going merely by the data of neuroscience, we would have to conclude that complex awareness necessary for rational inference (or, indeed, just our experience of the world via sensation) doesn't exist; even if individual parts can be aware of this or that, there is nothing over and above the parts that grasps and binds all these awarenesses into one complex awareness (p. 84).

If he is right, then physicalism, even if it can get us consciousness (which, as I said, is dubious), still fall short of what is needed for rational inference. I think this argument has a lot going for it. I will have more to say about it in a future post (link operative when the other post is up).

Reliability of Reason
Granting that naturalistic evolution can give us cognitive faculties (belief forming powers), would it give us "mostly true beliefs, or merely just those falsehoods that are useful for survival" (pp. 84, 85)? Reppert says that it is reasonable to say that, given our assumption above that naturalism can give us cognitive faculties, natural selection likely would give us the ability to form true beliefs about the sort of things that "helped protohumans cope with the challenges of their environment" (p. 85). But this hardly gets us knowledge about what Thomas Nagel calls the "nonapparent character of the world" (p. 85). Explicit knowledge of logic, the ability to reliably engage in mathematics, philosophy should be beyond us.

He gives the argument as follows (p. 85):
1. If naturalism is true, then we should expect our faculties not to be reliable indicators of the nonapparent character of the world.
2. But our faculties do reliably reveal the nonapparent character of the world. (Presupposition of rational inference.)
3. Therefore, naturalism is false.
One objection would be that our cognitive faculties are unreliable at forming true beliefs about nonapparent features of the world. But, this raises the question of why should we believe that? That our cognitive faculties are unreliable in this way both seems to require knowing a lot about the nonapparent character of the world and seems to be a claim made of the nonapparent character of the world (namely, about our cognitive faculties themselves). This objection is a no go, even if we are not as reliable as we'd like to think we are.

If the objection were on target, it would also take down naturalism, too.

The other way this argument could be objected to is by arguing that natural selection could give us cognitive faculties that can reliably form true beliefs about the nonapparent features of the world; but even if this could be done, I think that we could still utilize the argument well enough. If we are trying to find the best explanation of our ability to form true beliefs of this kind, then theism would be better, since it would make the existence of rational beings like us more likely relative to naturalism (even granting those assumptions). Of course, maybe at the end of the day, naturalism would be the best explanation of everything, but as Reppert has shown, that is unlikely.

[1] As far as this argument is concerned, whether we speak of mental events or mental states causing things is a moot point. However, it seems to me that speaking in terms of states is preferable (or of things causing other things in virtue of the state they are in), since things enter into events. Strictly speaking, events don't cause anything; it is the things that enter into events that cause things.

[2] It will do no good to say that sometimes we are not conscious of our mental states and yet still have them (at least in a sense). First, we often are - and that needs to be explained (not explained away). Second, these submerged mental states can be made consciously aware of.

Monday, June 17, 2019

C. S. Lewis's Dangerous Idea (Chapter Three)

C. S. Lewis's Dangerous Idea (Chapter Three)

Victor Reppert has argued that C. S. Lewis' argument was not refuted by G. E. M. Anscombe, even if it could benefit from some revision. In this chapter he explains why Lewis did not abandon this argument, or put another way why this argument stands up to Anscombe's criticisms. 

The variant of the argument that Reppert defends is aimed against naturalism, which he says, "Is the view that the natural world is all there is and that there are not supernatural beings" (p. 46). More specifically, naturalism is any worldview that "posits a causally closed 'basic level of analysis,' [which says that] all other levels have the characteristics they have in virtue of those the basic level has." A paradigm case would be physicalism (p. 47). In this worldview, the most basic level of description is physics, so even what we call rational inference must be ultimately explicable in terms employed by physics (p. 48). Victor Reppert notes that such a worldview reduces (me: explains away) purpose in terns of efficient causation (such as evolutionary history).[1] This is to say that naturalisms are untied in alleging that at the most basic level, "purposes must be explained in terms of the nonpurposive" (p. 49, 51, 53).

Theism, on the other hand, maintains that reason is a fundamental (i.e. irreducible) feature of reality. That means, among other things, that our power of reason is not dependent on the laws of physics (any more than the laws of logic are). We can reason and come to a conclusion not "because the laws of physics mandates that the physical particles in the brain move to such and such places", but because of the content of our thoughts and our grasp of logical laws (p. 50).

Reppert is presenting his argument against materialistic naturalism, though, he says that any form of naturalism that shares with it the commitment that purpose is ultimately reducible to (or eliminable in favor of) the nonpurposive is just as apt a target as materialism (p. 51). Importantly, as he gives the argument, its target is only to refute naturalism. He adds, "Only subsequently does the argument attempt to show that theism . . . best accounts for this explanatory dualism [of the purposive and nonpurposive]" (p. 53). 

Given basic materialist commitments (the explanatory basic level of reality is just matter governed by the laws describable by physics), one can either go eliminitivist, reductionist, or supervenientist. Mental states don't exist, they do (but are reducible to physical states in the brain), or they exist (but emerge or supervene from brain states), respectively (pp. 51, 52). For the purpose of his argument they are all equivalent: the physical is the most basic, causally closed, and is inherently nonpurposive. Mental states (if they are admitted) vary only if the physical varies; hence the physical does all the work (pp. 52, 53).

The aim of his argument is to show that we ought not believe in naturalism because to do so would be self-defeating. Here is his gloss of C. S. Lewis' argument from reason (p. 55):
1. No belief is justified if it can be fully explained as the result of irrational causes.
2. If materialism is true, then all beliefs can be explained as the result of irrational causes.
3. Therefore, if materialism is true, then no belief is justified.
4. If materialism is true, then the belief "materialism is true" is not justified.
5. Therefore, materialism should be rejected.
Reppert reports that one of "Anscombe's contention[s] was that Lewis conflated all nonrational causes with irrational causes". Insofar as supervenient materialism "is not committed to the view that all beliefs can be explained as the result of irrational causes" it seems that Lewis' argument is rather weak. However, this objection is rebutted by noting that the ability to form justified true beliefs requires positively a rational cause, not merely the lack of irrational ones (p. 56).

Victor Reppert reports that Anscombe attacks the argument as if it were a skeptical threat argument that precedes by "asking the question of whether all our inferences could be invalid". (A skeptical threat argument being something like 'how do I know that I am not dreaming' or 'how do I know that I am not a brain in the vat'.) Thinking this, she attempts to refute it (in good Wittgensteinian fashion) by arguing that in order to form the concept of validity / rational inference we must be acquainted with instances of valid / rational inferences and invalid / irrational inferences. Hence, we can't doubt that we engage in valid thinking or rational inferences. Since this is so, we can't sensibly ask whether all instances of reasoning could be invalid. Therefore, Lewis' argument, which requires us to entertain that possibility, cannot get off the ground (pp. 58, 59).

However, Lewis is not arguing that we ought to reject naturalism because naturalism cannot answer the question 'how do we know we ever engage in rational inference' in a skeptical threat kind of way. In that sense, Lewis' own position would be in the same boat (p. 59). Rather, he is taking for granted that rational inferences occur and arguing that materialism cannot explain this fact (p. 60). Hence Anscombe's objection fails.

Anscombe's main criticism, however, centers on the claim that Lewis' argument "fails to distinguish between various types of 'full' explanations." By "full", she means able to completely satisfy an inquirer's curiosity. Given this, there can be different full explanations relative to what the inquirer wants to know (p. 60). She has four sorts of explanations in mind (p. 61):
1. Naturalistic causal explanations, typically subsuming the event in question under some physical law.
2. Logical explanations, showing the logical relationship between the premises and the conclusion.
3. Psychological explanations, explaining why a person believes as he/she does.
4. Personal history explanations, explaining how, in the course of someone's personal history, they came to hold a particular belief.
Lewis' argument erroneously claims that if a type 1 explanation is given, then no further explanation in terms of type 2 - 4 can be, says Anscombe (p. 61). Importantly, Anscombe claims that reasons-explanations (so type 2 - 4) are not causal explanations, so they can't conflict with type 1 explanations, which are causal. As long as someone can state a rational explanation for why they belief this or that proposition, then we're in the clear as far as affirming rational inference even if the causal story is entirely naturalistic / physics-driven (p. 62).

But, this claim that reasons-explanations are not causal, though crucial to her objection, doesn't hold water (p. 62). If I get food poisoning because I ate something rotten, the sense of "because" is that of cause and effect. If I tell you, "Sean must be sick because he's not come in for work," the sense of because is that of ground and consequent. It seems that to form a justified true belief that I am sick, that is to engage in rational inference, one must be aware of the ground-consequent relationship, that is, see how the two propositions 'Sean is sick' and 'he has not come in for work' relate to each other. If this is not so, asks Lewis, "How could such a trifle as lack of logical grounds prevent the belief's occurrence, and how could the existence of grounds promote it?" (pp. 63, 64) Merely that such a ground-consequent relationship holds between those propositions doesn't cut it.[2]

Beliefs must cause other beliefs not simply by being, but by being seen to be, by perceived as grounds justifying the subsequent belief (p. 64). Because of this, "the idea of being convinced by something seems to imply that reasons are playing a causal role" (p. 65).

Anscombe is not done yet, however. Even if beliefs can act as causes of other beliefs, that doesn't mean that they cannot be explained materialistically. Even though there appears to be a conflict between saying that I believe P because I see the grounds for it and I believe P because of certain physical causes in my brain, she argues that there is no conflict (p. 65). To give a full explanation of something is to fully answer an inquiry as to why such and such is the case; therefore, there can be as many full explanations of a thing as there are distinct questions that can be asked about it, none of which are in competition with each other (p. 66).

Reppert believes that this does not salvage Anscombe's objection. First, how can we explain the exact same aspect of something in different ways, each purporting to be fundamental explanations? It is one thing to say that the reason some pop can is on my bookshelf is because I put it there and another to say that no one has knocked it over since I put it there the other day. These explanations describe different aspects of why it is on my bookshelf right now. But if we are asking only why I put it there, we are looking for the reasons that I had with the understanding that they are causally relevant, so it would do no good to say that the matter of my brain behaving simply by the laws of physics ended up making me put the can there. In these cases two incompatible explanations are given for the same aspect of what we are asking to have explained (pp. 66, 67). Reasons just don't seem to be the kind of things that operate according to the laws of physics.

"Second," he says, "explanatory exclusion seems to be built into the very idea of naturalism." This fact apparently goes unnoticed by Anscombe because of her Wittgensteinian commitments; Wittgensteinianism being an anti-realist philosophy which engages in language games. While we can talk about the same event, even the same aspect of an event in different ways (by playing different language games - e.g., explaining something in terms of physics and also witchcraft), that doesn't help us see whether they can both be true. Of course, the Wittgensteinian isn't as concerned with what is true of the world. However, the materialist is (p. 67)!

Materialism intends to reduce all purposive activity to nonpurposive activity (which, I think, ends up eliminating it). In doing so, it is making a claim about how reality is, one which excludes us from saying that I belief or act for reasons; reasons aren't part of the laws of physics, so materialism can't permit these to be causally relevant to why I believe as I do. Given this, Lewis' argument from reason is vindicated (p. 68).

Vindicated partially, in any event. Reppert concludes that Lewis' argument benefits from consideration of Anscombe's criticisms. The idea of what Lewis calls "an act of knowing determined by what it knows" needs development. His argument is strengthened by recognizing it not as a skeptical threat argument, but as a best explanation argument in favor of non-naturalistic worldviews. Lewis is right in claiming that reasons-explanations are causally relevant in a way that materialism is at a loss to explain, because naturalistic causes just seem to be different than reasons-explanations and materialism only permits the former (p. 70). All in all, I think Reppert is right and has adequately set the stage for his formulations of the arguments from reason.

[1] Reppert writes, "One can say that the purpose of the heart is to pump blog through the human body. What that must mean is that a conglomeration of particles that pumps blood through the body has the structure it has because having the structure is essential for the ability of the organism to survive" (p. 49)

[2] My gloss of Reppert, and a ramble: Given what Reppert says, it seems that Anscombe is alleging that even though we might be able to explain, causally, how I believe some argument and its conclusion (A and P) in physical terms, that doesn't preclude us from being able to explain the logical structure of A and P, or describe the role the belief plays in my psychological life, or note, say, that I first read A and P in C. S. Lewis' Miracles. If I'm right, it seems like she is saying that Lewis is arguing that since I didn't come to hold the belief in (what he considers the) right way, that is because of rational causes, then the belief is false. Of course, this would be to commit the genetic fallacy. How I come to hold a belief doesn't in any way make it true or false. Fine as far as it goes. But if I'm right about what Anscombe is saying - and keep in mind that I'm at one remove from her - she misses the point of the argument from reason. The question is not so much whether beliefs formed by irrational or nonrational causes are true or false, but whether I am justified in holding them. Lewis says no, and I am inclined to agree. Anscombe has done nothing to address this.

Given the admittedly brief quote Reppert gives from Anscombe on pp. 62, 63, I (tentatively) think that I understand her correctly. She writes (emphasis mine):
My own (internalist) view is that if I can adduce reasons sufficient for the conclusion Q, then my belief that Q, is rational. The causal history of the mental states of being aware of Q and the justifying grounds strike me as quite irrelevant. Whether those mental states are caused by other mental states, or caused by physical states, or just pop into existence uncasued, the grounds still justify the claim.
The reasons might justify my belief, but given that they have no role in the production of my believing Q, they don't warrant me to believe it. The claim can be rational, but that doesn't mean that my belief in it is rational. 

Even if I can state true propositions that justify my belief and say, "These justify my belief," if these play no role in my believing as I do, my believing is not rational and so I should not belief in whatever I do.

Saturday, June 15, 2019

C. S. Lewis's Dangerous Idea (Chapter Two)

C. S. Lewis's Dangerous Idea (Chapter Two)

The purpose of the second chapter, Assessing Apologetic Arguments, is to defend the claim that C. S. Lewis believed that (at least many) teachings of faith can be defended by reason, even if such arguments are not necessary nor even sufficient to prove to all reasonable persons of the truth of these beliefs. Reppert calls this view critical rationalism. He places it between fideism and strong rationalism, both of which he says Lewis and his argument from reason do not fall under.

He defines fideism succinctly as "the view that religious beliefs are not open to rational evaluation" (p. 29). (Reppert rejects this position.) Given that this is what fideism is, it is clear from the prior chapter that Lewis was not a fideist. 

Reppert defines strong rationalism as "the view that in order for a religious belief system to be properly and rationally accepted, it must be possible to prove the belief system is true." By "prove" here, Reppert means that it should be convincing to any reasonable person. Given this, it would seem that all who reject such proofs would be ipso facto irrational. Reppert uses Bertrand Russell as the atheistic analog of a strong rationalist, given his perplexity of why anyone would believe in God except out of irrational fears (p. 31), and Josh McDowell as an example of a Christian who is a strong rationalist, since he believes that those who do not believe in the resurrection either have not come across the evidence or are acting irrationally (p. 33).

Reppert says that critical rationalism holds that "religious belief systems can and must be rationally criticized and evaluated, although conclusive proof of such a system is impossible" (Emphasis mine; p. 36). Proof in the strong rationalist sense is not possible, though, arguments that provide good reason to believe in God are available, which can persuade someone given their perspective the come at them from (p. 37).

Lewis is clearly no fideist, but given his bombastic claims (e.g., that atheism is "too simple," a boy's philosophy) perhaps he falls in the strong rationalist camp. Reppert writes, "Critics like John Beversluis have maintained that Lewis consistently implied that his conclusions were the complete and final word on the subject in question" (pp. 37, 38); if these critics are correct, it would lend plausibility to the notion that he is a strong rationalist.

However, Reppert notes several facts that militate against such an interpretation of Lewis. Lewis' fiction have "noble nonbelievers who do not seem guilty of any irrationality," Lewis explicitly says, "there is evidence both for and against the Christian propositions which fully rational minds, working honestly, can assess differently" (pp. 38, 39). Even when Lewis attributes farcical conclusions to his intellectual opponent's belief systems, he is not saying that they actually believe these. Rather he is arguing that this is where there position leads (p. 40). If one wants to say that to be rational one must be completely consistent, fine, but I don't think this need to be so; hence, I think Reppert shows that Lewis is not a strong rationalist either.

Reppert believes that Beversluis' criticism of Lewis and its refutation leads us to something important about Lewis. He writes, "I think there is a  persistent inner tension between two voices in Lewis's writings, the voice of the confident Christian apologist and the Christian agnostic. The confident apologist makes strong, bold claims on behalf of Christianity. The Christian agnostic raises tough questions and refuses to let the solutions be too easy" (p. 42) (I prefer the term Christian skeptic to his Christian agnostic; but as long as one sees what he is getting at, either is fine.)

Reppert concludes, satisfied that he has defended his position that Lewis is a critical rationalist. "But if he was not himself a critical rationalist, his arguments can surely be adapted to the framework of critical rationalism" (p. 44)

C. S. Lewis's Dangerous Idea (Chapter One)

C. S. Lewis's Dangerous Idea (Chapter One)

Victor Reppert's task in this chapter is to clear up several misunderstandings about Lewis. Among these are the idea that his work is finished (in no need of, or incapable of improvement), he wasn't a serious thinker because he was not a professional philosopher, G. E. M. Anscombe refuted his argument from reason and caused him to retreat from apologetics, and that he quit apologetics and became an Ockhamistic Fideist in response to his wife's death. Reppert ably dispels this misconceptions and defends Lewis' status as a serious thinker. I'll briefly examine his responses to these claims.

Reppert believes "that many discussions of Lewis's arguments treat these arguments as finished products, to be accepted or rejected as they stand," as either obviously sufficient or obviously deficient depending on whether the one looking at them is friendly or hostile to Lewis's worldview. However, he believes that this doesn't do justice to Lewis' "outstanding philosophical instincts." He can't be refuted as easily as his critics sometimes allege, even if the formulation he gives of this or that argument stands in need of further refinement. (p. 12)

He confronts the snobbery of many professional philosophers who discount Lewis on the grounds that he is not one of them by noting that "the majority of those who have made significant contributions to philosophy over the past twenty-five centuries would not qualify as "professional" philosophers in the contemporary sense" (p. 15). Hence, it is nothing against Lewis (I'd add, perhaps to his credit) that he was not a professional philosopher.

Reppert prefaces the "Anscombe Legend," as he calls it, with the remarks that it focuses "on Lewis himself rather than what he had to say" (p. 15). The legend goes like this. Lewis' argument from reason (as presented in the third chapter of his Miracles) was refuted in 1948 by G. E. M. Anscombe. Then (in a bit of armchair psychoanalysis), Lewis fell into low spirits, because he couldn't overcome the refutation. This caused him to doubt his ability as an apologist, so he never published an apologetic work again (p. 16). Reppert notes that most of those who press this objection fail to observe that Lewis revised his argument, which was included in the second edition of Miracles in 1960. Moreover, he writes, "Anscombe herself does not recall any devastating encounter and attributes the adverse reaction of some of Lewis's friends in terms of the phenomenon of projection" (p. 20).

He does comment that "Lewis, partly as a result of the Anscombe incident came to feel ill-equipped to deal with the philosophy of his day" (p. 19) But he does not explain this as a sign that Lewis was a bad thinker. Rather, the philosophical currents had changed significantly since Lewis was trained in philosophy. Absolute idealism was all the rage in the 1920's but in the 40's and 50's logical positivism was the philosophy to beat. Now, that too has gone the way of the dinosaur (pp. 19, 20). Being able to defend arguments against this or even several philosophies doesn't mean one can do so (as well as others) against other philosophies. But this doesn't discredit Lewis' ideas. Reppert says, "One could, it seems to me, develop a response to [logical positivism or Wittgensteinism] based on elements of Lewis's thought," even if Lewis did not do so. Still, he has insights which are valuable in our philosophical climate - which is neither positivistic or Wittgensteinism - in which naturalism is all the rage (p. 20).

The final myth that Reppert refutes is that Lewis abandoned his Christian confidence in the face of his wife's death, "maintaining his religious beliefs only through a leap of faith" (p. 21). Beversluis says that Lewis moved from a "Platonic" sense of God's goodness (that it is in some sense continuous with the finite senses of goodness) to an Ockhamistic one (that it is not, but established by God's fiat). (Lewis became an Ockamistic Fideist.) He believes that Lewis overcame his negative appraisal of God only by granting that whatever God does is good because God does it (p. 22). Both of these claims, says Reppert, are mistaken. Lewis still employed the argument from reason in A Grief Observed, which, obviously enough, was written after his wife's death (p. 24). In that book, Lewis also returned to his argument against a dualism of two absolute good and evil beings (pp. 25, 26). And expanded his argument that critique of the morally disasterous consequences of an Ockhamistic (that is, voluntaristic) conception of God - that what is Good is Good only because God wills it - in A Grief Observed. Not only could such a God command, say, blasphemy and thereby make it good, we could not trust (i.e., know) his claims about Heaven or Hell. Perhaps what He calls Heaven is what we'd call Hell and vice versa (p. 27).

Reppert can therefore confidently conclude, "It is time for us toe examine Lewis's thought fairly and honestly, not expecting either inerrancy or rank amateurism, but rather an incisive and powerful mind with many ideas that need to be pursued further" (p. 28)

Friday, June 14, 2019

C. S. Lewis's Dangerous Idea (Summary)

C. S. Lewis's Dangerous Idea (Summary)

I've just finished reading Victor Reppert's C. S. Lewis's Dangerous Idea: In Defense of the Argument from Reason, and it was well worth the cost of the book. Indeed, the book is a steal: you can get it for under five dollars!

As one of the blurb's on the back of the book indicate, the aim of his book is to defend C. S. Lewis and his argument from reason. C. Stephen Evans writes, "Victor's Reppert's book is a delight on two counts. First, it is a sophisticated and well-informed discussion of C. S. Lewis and his apologetic arguments, demolishing some well-known myths and demonstrating that Lewis had important and serious things to say as a philosopher." This task is done primarily in the first chapter and finished by the second. The second task, refining Lewis' argument takes up the remaining four chapters, is for me the most important.

Reppert defends C. S. Lewis by debunking that several claims that have tarnished his reputation as a serious thinker. One such claim is that G. E. M. Anscombe demolished Lewis' argument from reason full stop (as opposed to merely criticizing it) and caused him to retreat from apologetics. He comments that Lewis revised it, and even received commendation from Anscombe because of that, and, interestingly enough, agreement from Peter Geach, Anscombe's husband, who makes a similar argument to Lewis'. He also explodes the notion that Lewis quite apologetics because of his debate with Anscombe, or that to cope with the death of his wife he had to retreat to Ockhamistic Fideism: we have to accept the truth of Christianity merely on "faith" and recognize that God is unknowable (and hence, so is why his permitting of suffering is good). He easily dispatches these claims, noting that the thoughts Lewis expresses in A Grief Observed are in keeping with his anti-fideistic and anti-Ockahmist arguments of his earlier career. He also exposes the double standard at work by those who allege that Lewis cannot be taken seriously because he asserts and argues for his positions with confidence and (at times) seems to regard nonbelievers as intellectual buffoons. The Christian apologist and Christian agnostic (me: Christian skeptic is a better term, I think) exist in Lewis throughout his career, Reppert says. Hence, Lewis often regards nonbelievers as intellectually serious, even if many of them aren't and those that are aren't always consistent when it comes to applying their positions. Just because Lewis points these things out doesn't mean he is straw-manning their positions or reaching for low hanging fruit.

The important thing to note about this part of the book is that Lewis himself ought not to be taken as giving the final formulation of the argument, but as providing later apologists and philosophers valuable insights on which to build. Reppert writes:
Lewis can either be offered as a final answer or be offered as a spur to think the relevant issues though oneself. The way one honors Lewis's apologetic achievement, it seems to me, is not simply by repeating what he says, but by developing his ideas, asking probing questions of them and developing the discussion in ways that reflect one's own thinking as well as Lewis's. (p. 14)
The more interesting task of the book, in my opinion, is where he actually gives the argument from reason, which takes up the latter two-thirds of the book. In the third chapter, he shows that Lewis' argument escapes from (and can be improved by) the criticism leveled against it by G. E. M. Anscombe. Importantly, he argues that Lewis' argument is right to argue that as long as Naturalism reduces all things to anything but rational causes (either irrational or non-rational), it cannot explain our ability to engage in rational inference, and that the content of our thoughts play a causal role in the production of other thoughts or mental states, which is in conflict with Naturalism's tendency to totalize physical explanations.  In the fourth chapter he gives several variants of the argument from reason. They all have the same basic structure: X is required for us to make rational inferences; X is incompatible with Naturalism; we have to reject belief in Naturalism. He argues that the intentionality of our thoughts, their adherence to logical laws, their ability to cause further thoughts in virtue of their content, and our ability to form reliable beliefs about non-apparent features of reality cannot obtain give naturalism. 

In the fifth chapter, he clarifies what he means by 'explanatory dualism' (hint: it is not simply Cartesian dualism, even if that would be one kind of explanatory dualism as far as Reppert is concerned). The idea is that we must explain at least some things (e.g., our ability to make rational inferences) in terms of reason at the most fundamental level, even if physical explanations are also relevant; the latter, however, cannot, be exhaustive. Because of this, he says a naturalist can't appeal to, say, Kripke's theory of reference (as it only explains how reference is transferred but not how it comes to be in a non-intentional way) or any reductive theory of mind (including the sorts of property dualism where mental states have whatever causal power they do solely in virtue of their physical properties and not their mental content), among other things. I'm inclined to agree with him in his analysis. In the sixth chapter, he addresses the "inadequacy objection" to the effect that (i) a fully complete naturalistic account of the world will eventually explain the features Reppert appeals to, and (ii) to explain them in non-naturalistic terms doesn't explain anything. He argues that he has shown that naturalism cannot explain these features but only explain them away, and that the notion of explanation that such naturalists are looking for in an explanatory dualist account is too restrictive, and that the kind of explanations that non-naturalists (which for the purpose of his book are theists, Idealists, and pantheists) can give are informative, even if they bottom out by appealing to 'the nature of this or that.' As long as Naturalism requires us to explain everything in terms reducible to a non-teleological level where all that is is physical, it cannot explain mind. And positing an irreducibly non-physical aspect of reality (either a Cartesian soul, or inbuilt dispositions to produce an immaterial mind per Hasker, or God to explain the emergence of mind) does give some light into the nature of the mind. And it is not as if naturalists can avoid explaining things at the most fundamental level of reality except by noting that they have the features they do because it is in their nature to have them. I want to add that even if much of our knowledge of God or the soul is negative (not this, not that, etc.) it still is informative and presupposes some positive knowledge (e.g., 'the soul is immaterial because it is irreducibly teleological' would be an example of a claim of this sort).

When I have time, I will go through his book more closely, trying to distill what I regard as the most important claims. This is but the beginning of my writing on the argument from reason, which will end in me giving my own argument(s) for it.


The Platonic Form of Pizza

You have to have at least a MA in philosophy to work there. (Fortunately, many philosphy degrees are homeless and will work for nothing. Which is good since they will be paid only in questions.)

Also, you have to at least have minored in philosophy to eat there. Nominalist will be served, begrudgingly, cardboard triangles we simply call "pizza".