The
Contingency of Knowledge and Revelatory Theism
By R. M. Manion Introduction
Theonomous Epistemology
But
this story is not generally accepted today.
It is rejected as a wild guess and a vain imagining.
Knowledge cannot be gotten from God whether He exists or not.
Man himself must be the determiner of truth.
“Man is the measure of all things” as Protagoras said.
Even if the above story is true, every part of it must be certified
by passing the cannons of man’s autonomous epistemology. And
so, we must turn to the antithesis of this story. We must turn to the
story of autonomous Epistemology. This story starts, as do most philosophy
texts, not with Adam, Abraham, or Moses, but with Thales.
Autonomous Epistemology
The
story of autonomous epistemology begins on May 28, 585 BC at six-thirteen
in the evening. At least this
is when Dr. Gordon Clark humorously suggests that philosophy began.
It was then that the man who is generally recognized as the first
philosopher, Thales, made the first prediction of a solar eclipse. Though
men had recorded the movements of heavenly bodies for eons, Thales was the
first to see in these movements a pattern, a common denominator by which
all heavenly bodies moved. He
was the first to find a general law. He
found unity in diversity. He
reduced the many to one. But,
there are more things to unify in the universe, than the motion of
heavenly bodies. Thales
proposed that the one element that makes up and unites every object in the
universe is water. Water is
the primordial stuff of which all reality is made. Now,
what is important here, is not Thales answer, but the question he raised,
“What, ultimately, is every thing?”
This started the great debate. Anaximenes
said ultimate reality is air. Heraclitus
said on the other hand, ultimate reality is fire.
Parmenides said they were both wrong, it is “being.” This
debate over the nature of ultimate reality was the beginning of metaphysics.
And arguments over metaphysics lead to arguments about arguments. And the
debate over what constituted a good argument was the beginning of epistemology.
What was needed was a theory of knowledge by which one could know
that a given proposition was true. Now
the pre-Socratics, have exemplified a few epistemological propensities
that have continued throughout history.
Some, such as Parmenides, felt that the best arguments are obtained
through reason. For example, if all men are mortal and if Socrates is a
man, then one can reason that Socrates is mortal, and necessarily so.
The appeal to these thinkers is certainty. If reason clearly
dictates something, and experience suggests something else, then there is
a problem with experience. Reason,
is believing. On
the other hand, some, such as Democritus, felt the best arguments are
obtained through experience. Seeing,
is believing. The appeal to
these thinkers is the concreteness of their experience.
If reason indicates something other than the dictates of
observation, then you know something is wrong with your reasoning. In
time these propensities, and this debate, resolved itself into two primary
rival theories of knowledge that are still with us today, rationalism and
empiricism. Rationalism was
developed by Plato and hit its high water mark with the father of modern
philosophy Rene Descartes. Empiricism
was developed by Plato’s student Aristotle and reached its modern
expression in John Lock. RationalismThe
rationalist takes his model of truth from mathematics.
The certainty of its axioms and conclusions appeal to him.
Reason is primary and regulates his interpretation of experience.
For the rationalist, at least some ideas such as the universality
of logic and the fact that the sum of the angles in a triangle is exactly
180 degrees have never been experienced and must be gotten independently
of and prior to experience. These ideas are known a
priori. They are said to
be innate and self-evidently true. Descartes
says they are clear and distinct. Unfortunately,
these truths weren’t self evident to the empiricists.
They were quick to point out that not even the rationalists agree
on what is clear and distinct. Plato,
Descartes, and Teilhard de Chardin all conceived very different
rationalist systems. Aristotle
and Lock both expressed concern that such unjustified starting points
would color one’s observations and destroy objectivity.
They felt that if one allows himself to begin with some absolute
starting point, that is justified only by his own internal
criterion and sense of rational necessity, then he has made himself the
absolute determiner of truth and has abandoned any hope of objectivity. For
example, Euclidean Geometry has been the paradigm case of a priori formal
systems for over two millennium. Its
axioms are self evident, clear, and distinct.
Let’s take “Given a straight line and a point not on that line, one and only one line can be drawn through that point parallel to the given line.” This
axiom appears to most people to be self-evident and true beyond a rational
doubt. With this, and But,
there are reasons for thinking that this self-evidentness has more to do
with the structure of our language and our assumptions about reality, than
with reality itself. Currently,
there seems to be a consensus in cosmology that the universe is finite and
unbounded. But, this means our
universe is non-Euclidean. Thus,
there can be no infinite straight lines in our universe and Now,
there is no problem with revising empirical a
posteriori postulates, but a priori self-evident truths are
supposed to be absolute and invariant. This and other such problems have
prompted some philosophers to suggest that these self-evident notions
simply express the limits of our perceptions and conceptual models.
Our limited experience of space, until recently, was very
Euclidean. This in turn
defined the language by which we express these experiences and think.
Propositions that appear self-evidently certain may do so because
the rules of our language won’t allow us to think otherwise.
In
contrast, the empiricists proposed that all knowledge must be founded not
on a priori assumptions, but on
experience, a posteriori.
All ideas represent some object in the world and must be traceable
back to some concrete experience. Truth
may not be certain, but it is concrete and objective.
If you don’t agree with someone’s observation, you can see for
your self. But,
as we said before, the empiricists had their problems too.
First they had the obvious ones.
On the one hand, the empiricist cannot see universal propositions
and perfect triangles. On the
other hand, he does see mirages and sticks that appear to bend when
stuck in the water. Yet, in
both these cases they make judgments contrary to these experiences.
Furthermore, empiricists have never successfully accounted for how
they could have any experience without first bringing concepts such as
causality, space, time, quantity, etc. to the experience.
But,
bigger problems start to develop when you take empiricism seriously.
George Berkeley acknowledged Lock’s realization that though our
ideas come from our perceptions, the only objects of our minds are those
ideas. Our minds never make
direct contact with the external material world.
Consequently, we can never set our ideas over against the material
world and corroborate the integrity of those ideas.
In fact, Let’s
assume we see a desk in front of us. What we are tempted to say is, “I
have a perception of a desk in front of me, therefore, there is a desk in
front of me.” The first
assertion, “I have a perception of a desk in front of me” is empirical
and not controversial. But,
the second assertion, “There is a desk in front of me” does not follow
from the first. It has no
logical connection. It is not
empirical. It is a bold
metaphysical assertion. The
idea of material substances was a completely unnecessary and unjustified
metaphysical entity that This
kind of rigorous empiricism would know no bounds in the hands of David
Hume. Hume revived Liebniz’s
analytic/synthetic distinction and decided he would allow as rational only
those beliefs that are either analytically true or empirically verifiable.
Thus all ideas are either analytic, synthetic, or nonsense.
However, Hume’s analytic truths, though known a
priori, should not be taken as a concession to the rationalists.
Hume’s analytic truths are mere tautologies.
For example, take the phrase “All sisters are women.”
Propositions like this may tell us something about how we use
language, but they give us no new information about the world.
They are trivial. Hume
took He
then turns his empirical gun on the internal world.
He points out that our notion of our selves as a substance
that continues to receive perceptions is yet another unsubstantiated
postulation.
Among our
perceptions we never perceive the self as the perceiver of our
perceptions. He destroys here
all autonomous rational justification for the notion of the self as an
entity independent of a collection of perceptions. Our
concepts of an external material world and of an internal mental or
spiritual world are neither analytic nor are they perceived, therefore
they are, on the cannons of empiricism, nonsense. But,
what other concepts are neither analytically true nor perceived?
Hume examined the philosophical concept of identity.
Identity is the concept that there is some continuity in the nature
of an object over time. In
other words, is the person reading this paragraph the same entity that
read the last paragraph? Hume
observed that all we perceive, strictly speaking, is a series of
sensations, but we have no sensation that corresponds to the idea that a
given object in one sensation is the same object in another sensation.
We have no sensation of identity.
This concept is supplied by the perceiver, yet, it is not
analytically necessary nor is it perceived.
You may recognize this as the same point made by Heraclitus when he
said, “you can never step into the same river twice.” What
Hume is most famous for, however, is a critique that fundamentally upset
the foundations of both science and common sense, his critique of
causality. He noted that when
he looked at two events, say one billiard ball striking another, that he
could perceive one ball moving prior to the movement of the other
ball. He could perceive the
one ball touching (continuity)
the other ball. He could
perceive one ball moving after being touched by the other ball.
But, he could not perceive a necessary connection between
the two balls. He could never
see the cause between the two events. Causality,
like identity, and external and internal substance, are properties of our
minds, not of the world. They
are the products of our imagination. The
reason we believe in the external world, the self, and identity is not for
logical or empirical reasons, for there are none.
It is psychological; it is a habit of the mind. But, not even Hume went far enough. First, we must ask if Hume’s analytic \ synthetic criteria for truth known analytically or synthetically? It is not true by definition and it is certainly not a perception. Therefore, on Hume’s own criterion, it is nonsense. This is a problem that will latter plague the logical positivists. Secondly,
if there is no identity between one event and another, each and every
perception is new and distinct. Hume
should not have been able to say there is a similarity or likeness between
any two perceptions at all. Similarity is not perceived, and to
suggest a similarity between perceptions at any level is to make an
“identity,” something that Hume already demonstrated could not be done
empirically. Consequently, Hume should not have been able to speak of
prior billiard ball events and latter billiard ball events, for to do so
is to make an identity between the two event perceptions.
In fact, Hume shouldn’t have identified a single event as a
billiard ball, for to do so, is to identify that perception as a
member of the category “balls.”
But, there can be no categories if there is no similarity
between perceptions. And, if
there are no categories, no given perception can be identified as an
instance of a category. But if
no given perception can be identified as an instance of a category,
then perceptions cannot be identified at all.
If perceptions cannot be identified then they cannot be spoken of
and nothing can be know. In
fact, propositions cannot even be identified as analytic or synthetic. As
Dr. Bauhnsen points out, a rigorous commitment to admitting only
propositions that are certified by either reason or direct perception is
not only inadequate as an epistemology, it is completely destructive to
the entire enterprise. But,
having rejected Revelatory Theism, what alternative does the autonomous
philosopher have? Some have suggested that after Hume, philosophy should have been over. David Hume didn’t just attack particular problems associated with particular theories of knowledge, he attacked the very foundational dogmas that under-gird all autonomous theories of knowledge. He demonstrated just how cut off the knower is from the objects of knowledge and from himself. For a theory of knowledge to proceed, man will have to already know a priori what the world is, what he is, and how the two are and could be related. But, this is a principled problem and cannot be solved by mere creativity and ingenuity. Some future philosophers will ignore these critical problems and continue to offer naïve descriptions of the world they believe to be true, and others will simply abandon truth as the objective of epistemology and propose other programs. We will look now at an example of a philosopher who upon realizing our natural limitations, begins to redefine the job description of epistemologists. Hume
shook the foundations of epistemology so strongly that he awakened a
professor in Konigsberg Because
the categories of thought exist in the mind prior to experience they are a
priori. Because they refer
to reality, they are synthetic. Hence
they are called synthetic a priori’s.
Our experience of the world is a compound of sense data and these
categories of thought. They
are the way we perceive the world, what he called phenomena, whether it is
the way the world, what he called noumena, is or not.
Hence, Kant points out, we cannot know the noumenal world itself.
We can only know the world as the mind presents it to us. But,
did Kant actually save epistemology?
Well, his synthetic a priori’s, by his own admission, describe no
properties in the noumenal world. They
are the mind’s contribution to the phenomenal world.
So, what exactly does it mean to say they are synthetic?
Prior to Kant the task of epistemology was to justify our synthetic
judgments, but these were judgments regarding the noumenal world, and,
Hume demonstrated that this could not be done.
Kant proved that his synthetic a priori’s are necessary to
experience, but he does not mean by synthetic what Hume and others meant
by synthetic. He has not proven
what Hume said could not be proven.
He has not answered Hume at all.
Kant has changed the subject. Kant
did not tell us about the world, he told us about our minds and about how
we think and called it synthetic. Furthermore,
Hume already told us that the mind habitually thinks of the
world in terms of causality, substance, identity, etc. and since these are
descriptions of our psychology and not of the world, the world cannot be
known and science is not possible. Kant’s
categories of thought, however, are also a description of the way
the mind thinks of the world and not descriptions of the world itself,
yet, Kant thinks this saves epistemology. Foundationalism
Those
who followed Kant’s lead gave up trying to describe the world as it
actually is. Because they
realized that all the traditional rational and empirical epistemologies
and conceptions of science have a similar underlying structure.
They are all foundationalistic.
They realized that all beliefs could be divided into two
categories. Beliefs that are
justified by referring to other beliefs and beliefs that are not subject
to justification, but are the foundation for all other beliefs.
The challenge here, of course, are these foundational beliefs.
Rationalists thought their innate self-evident a priori beliefs
were the best candidates, and empiricists thought their sense impressions
were the best candidates. But, this discussion has never advanced beyond
Hume. We should, in fact, recognized that this is a problem beyond
resolution if the object of knowledge is to be the world.
Aristotle
had already pointed out long ago that our options regarding first truths,
that is foundations, are limited. Asked
to justify why we ultimately believe something, we will either give an
answer or we will not. If we
do not give an answer, our belief is arbitrary and fideistic.
If we give an answer, then our answer will make reference to some
other belief or beliefs. Then
we will be asked to justify those beliefs and so on.
If in the course of justifying our beliefs we refer back to some
belief we have already been asked to justify, then we will be involved in
circular reasoning. If,
however, we never refer back to a belief we have already been asked to
justify, then we will be involved in an infinite regress. None
of these are satisfactory. A
fideistic belief is, by definition, unjustified and does not differ
epistemologically from its antithesis.
If we think it does have an epistemic advantage over its antithesis
then that advantage could be offered as a justification.
But, at that point we are on our way to circularity or an infinite
regress. An
infinite regress is not satisfactory.
To say that the justification for a given belief finally comes at
the end of an unending series of beliefs, is simply to obfuscate the fact
that the belief in question is never justified.
Consequently, an infinite regress is just another fideistic belief
and suffers its same fate. Circularity is also not satisfactory, but it is much more interesting. Advocates of a philosophical position called coherentism think they have beaten the foundation dilemma. They point out that beliefs do not neatly divide into the categories of foundational beliefs and justified beliefs. All our beliefs are related to one another in the form of a coherent web. Some subset of our beliefs may be more important and juridical than other beliefs, but all beliefs hang on all other beliefs, and nothing is foundational. But,
as Michael Depaul in his article “Coherentism” points out, coherentism
really doesn’t escape the foundational problem at all.
It is simply another “version
of foundationalism that holds all beliefs to be foundational.” He
says regarding the coherentist’s solution to the problem of circularity,
“But coherentism seems to be a nonstarter, for if no belief in the chain
is justified to begin with, there is nothing to pass along.
Altering the metaphor, we might say that coherentism seems about as
likely to succeed as a bucket brigade that does not end at a well, but
simply moves around in a circle.”[4]
The
bottom line is this; we must determine our criterion of justification,
prior to determining our criterion of justification, so that we can use it
to determine our criterion of justification.
If we recognize this as a problem that is in principle
unsolvable, we will save ourselves considerable time and headache by not
chasing solutions that appear to work, only because they have first
obfuscated the problem. Nicholas
Everitt in his book “Modern Epistemology” says of the current state of
analysis that, “…
this search for foundations has been unsuccessful.” It has failed in mathematics and it has failed in science.
All particular proposals have failed, and it fails in principle.[5]
Everitt concludes with the question, “Given this
inevitable failure, what if anything is left for the epistemologist to do?”[6]
Skepticism
As
we have already seen, the foundationalist can provide no justification for
his belief in causality, identity, externality, and self.
But, the skeptic would give these problems a little more emphasis
and draw our attention to a few more problems. External World. We have already seen from Willard Van Orman Quine admits, “Physical objects are conceptually imported … as convenient intermediaries … comparable epistemologically to the gods of Homer. For my part, I do … believe in physical objects and not in Homer’s gods … But in point of epistemological footing the physical objects and the gods differ only in degree and not in kind …”[7] The Self.
We should also make a few more observations about our
notion of the self, because this has been the autonomous mans most
confident assertion. Ever
since Rene Descartes said “Cogito Ergo Sum,”
“I think, therefore I am,” Man has at least been confident of
his own existence. But what
precisely does the term “self” refer to? What are you? Are you simply
a dream, an idea in the mind of a god or demon?
Are you a program on magnetic tape as an old Moody Blues song
suggests? Are you simply
the nexus of ideas as David Hume suggests.
Are you material, spiritual, abstract, or concrete?
Whenever autonomous man says his self exists, he has some
metaphysical notion behind the term that he cannot justify. But if no given
notion of the self can be justified, then no content can be attributed to
the notion of the self. We are confident in the assertion “I exist,” only to the extent that it is completely without content and meaning. This is why Cornelius Van Til refers to the Cogito as “a rock in a bottomless sea.” Yes, it is a rock, but it rests nowhere, can do nothing, and means nothing. Reliability of the
Senses.
Autonomous man also cannot justify the belief that there is a
sufficient correspondence between the way the world appears to him and the
way the world really is. In
fact, the world can appear to us only as the senses present it to us.
But, we already know that our eyes do not see the full spectrum of
light. Nor do we know if
objects in the world have properties, maybe essential properties, for
which we have no corresponding sense.
Why should we think our five senses detect even a small percentage
of the range of properties that exist in the world?
We do know, that the sonar of bats, the stereoscopic eyes of man,
and the compound eyes of flies all project very different images.
Each gives sufficient information for survival, but ‘which’
should be taken as normative? How
do we know any of them are sufficient to enable us to even engage in an
analysis of the possibility of empirical justification? But,
even if our senses were reliable, after the work of Hume, Kant,
Wittgenstein, Quine, and all the coherentists, we know that all experience
is sufficiently theory laden that it is not rational to simply assume
a close identity between reality and our perceptions of it.
Even if it is a fact that all minds impose the same
structures on the world, causing all our experiences to be uniform, that
does not, as some have suggested, give us objectivity, rather, it
precludes our ability to contrast our experiences and get behind
our mental structures to the real world. As
Richard Rorty aptly puts it, “Since
truth is a property of sentences, since sentences are dependent for their
existence upon vocabularies, and since vocabularies are made by human
beings, so are truths.”
If at
bottom, vocabularies really are made by human beings, then Rorty is right.[8]
The Inductive Problem.
The autonomous man cannot justify his habit of making inductive
generalizations. Hume argued
that inductive generalizations are not even probable.
No number of particular instantiations of an event can justify a
universal description of that event in all places and all time.
Hume points out that for one to argue that induction is even probable
they would also have to make the case for causality and the uniformity of
nature. Bertrand
Russell expresses the problem well, he says, “What
these arguments prove – and I do not think the proof can be controverted
– is that induction is an independent logical principle, incapable of
being inferred either from experience or from other logical principles,
and that without this principle science is impossible.”[9]
Imre Lakatos says, “One can today easily demonstrate that there can be no valid derivation of a law of nature from any finite number of facts; but we still keep reading about scientific theories being proved from facts. Why this stubborn resistance to elementary logic?”[10] Now,
Karl Popper also thought that Hume’s arguments against induction were
insurmountable. So he
advocated the abandonment of induction and proposed his theory of
falsification as an alternative. But
this doesn’t solve the problem of justification at all.
First, it abandons the possibility of finding a proposition that is
positively indicated and justified, for the exceedingly week possibility
of a mere guess being corroborated by our failure to falsify it.
Secondly, given our ability to manufacture secondary hypothesis to
protect a beloved hypothesis from falsification, no proposition can ever
be clearly falsified. Thirdly,
even if some counter example to one’s favorite theory could be produced,
since one’s theory exists as part of a larger web of beliefs, one may
give up some other belief in the web rather than the theory that might
have been falsified. For
example, let’s take the old story of the man who thought he was dead,
but agreed that dead men don’t bleed. I could prick his finger, cause it
to bleed, and then offer that fact as proof that he is still alive.
However, he could logically respond that I did nothing more than
refute the notion that dead men don’t bleed. Lakatos
explains the problem with “falsification.” He says “Scientists
have thick skins. They do not
abandon a theory merely because facts contradict it.
They normally either invent some rescue hypothesis to explain what
they then call a mere anomaly or, if they cannot explain the anomaly, they
ignore it, and direct their attention to other problems.” “Newtons
science, for instance, is not simply a set of four conjectures – the
three laws of mechanics and the law of gravitation.
These four laws constitute only the “hard core” or the
Newtonian program. But this
hard core is tenaciously protected from refutation by a vast “protective
belt” of auxiliary hypotheses.” “Now, Newton’s theory of gravitation, Einstein’s relativity theory, quantum mechanics, Marxism, Freudianism, are all research programs, each with a characteristic hard core stubbornly defended, each with its more flexible protective belt and each with its elaborate problem-solving machinery. Each of them, at any stage of its development, has unsolved problems and undigested anomalies. All theories, in this sense, are born refuted and die refuted.”[11] Without
justifying inductive generalizations, scientific conclusions cannot be
reached, and universal propositions cannot be made. The Uniformity of
Nature.
Now, universal propositions also make claims about all future
instantiations of the subject. But,
this is only so if nature is uniform.
And autonomous man cannot demonstrate the uniformity of nature.
He can argue that the future will be like the past, only if he
already knows that the future will be like the past. Bertrand
Russell explains it well, “It has been argued that we
have reason to know that the future will resemble the past, because what
was the future has constantly become the past, and has always been found
to resemble the past, so that we really have experience of the future,
namely of times which were formerly future, which we may call past
futures. But such an argument
really begs the very question at issue.
We have experience of past futures, but not of future futures, and
the question is: Will future futures resemble past futures?
This question is not to be answered by an argument, which starts
from past futures alone. We
have therefore still to seek for some principle which shall enable us to
know that the future will follow the same laws as the past."[12]
Again,
without a justification for the Uniformity of Nature, no scientific
generalizations can ever be justified. The Deductive Problem.
Without justification for induction and for the uniformity of
nature, no universal propositions can be justified. Without
universal propositions, man cannot make use of deductive reasoning.
Logic. Autonomous
man can make no direct case for the validity of logic. He can not even say
what logic is. Is logic a
substance? Is it a property?
Is it concrete and particular, or is it abstract and universal?
What is it and where is it? This problem is particularly difficult
for materialists. Not having a category for non-material universal
entities, they often suggest that logic is merely a convention.
This of course makes it arbitrary and destroys its universality.
Metaphysics
and logic are very closely related. Do
we know a priori that Eastern Monism is false?
If not, then possibly all is “A” and there is no “non-A.”
But if there is no non-A, then are the laws of Excluded Middle and
Non-contradiction meaningful? How
do we know a priori that the monists are wrong? How,
exactly, do we know that all reality must conform to these
principles we call logic? How
do we know that there exists in the world some universal principle that
says, “If all men are mortal, and Socrates is a man, that he absolutely
must be mortal?” Can
inductive or deductive inferences be marshaled on behalf of logic?
We have already seen that the case for these principles themselves
cannot be made. More to the
point, induction and deduction are methods that presuppose logic, and
therefore any direct case for logic is necessarily involved in circular
reasoning. One
may be tempted here to respond that, because no counter example can be
imagined, the universality of logic is undeniable.
But, does the mere fact that we are psychologically so disposed
that we cannot think of the world in other than logical categories,
justify us in concluding that the world is bound by those categories?
Why should we think our psychological limitations are descriptive
of the entire universe? A
psychological inability to modify the way we think about the universality
of logic does not prove it is in fact universal.
It merely means we cannot modify the way we think about it. If
we cannot answer these questions, what are we reduced to?
Many of us consider logic to be the bedrock of our world-view and
our theory of knowledge. But
what kind of a foundation is this? Do
I say, “I don’t know what it is, I don’t know why I believe it, and
I don’t know if it always applies, but it is the solid foundation on
which everything else is built?” We
are not trying to refute logic. We
are merely pointing out the inability of man, unaided, to account for
something so central and basic to the knowing process.
You see, none of these foundational notions are meaningful or are
justified individually. Rather,
they all find there meaning in a worldview that is itself justified. These
problems and others are what I refer to as the jump-start problem.
How do we jump-start the foundations of our epistemology?
At this point it becomes clear that autonomous philosophers have
been reduced to wild guesses as to their foundations.
Most people hold to all the above listed beliefs, but they do so as
articles of faith, not justified beliefs. Given
the problems discussed thus far, many contemporary philosophers such as
Nietzsche, Quine, Rorty, Unger, Harmon, Lehrer and others have become
skeptics as to the possibility of objective truth. According to Richard
Boyd the consensus among philosophers of science is that, “Foundationalist
conceptions of knowledge in general, and of scientific knowledge in
particular, are untenable…”[13]
Rather, they have given up on the possibility of truth in any traditional
sense. Pragmatism
Because
of the failure of foundationalism, and because of the success of science,
science has become the contemporary paradigm for epistemology. Utility has
become the modern-day criterion for truth.
If it works, it is true. This pragmatic theory of truth first
advocated by Pierce, James, and Dewey looks to a proposition for its cash
value. This theory has been advocated most effectively in our time by some
of the most important philosophers of our day such as Sellers, Popper,
Rorty and Quine. Rorty
says, “For
the pragmatist, true sentences are not true because they correspond to
reality, and so there is no need to worry what sort of reality, if any, a
given sentence corresponds to – no need to worry about what “makes”
it true. … He drops the notion of truth as correspondence with reality
altogether, and says that modern science does not enable us to cope
because it corresponds, it just plain enables us to cope.”[14]
This
approach to truth should hardly need a rebuttal.
The pragmatic project is to identify what language games and forms
of life will best enable a given agent to achieve his desired goal.
This might be an interesting project in itself, but its pursuit
demonstrates the complete failure of autonomous man to make any objective
sense out of life, reason, and experience in any type of a normative
descriptive sense. Man has not
won the game of knowledge, he finally realized he could not win and
found a new game to play. But,
man cannot win the game of pragmatism either.
For even though he is not playing the game of knowledge, he will
still need to provide an unattainable criterion for determining who are
the proper agents and what is the proper goal.
Only when these choices have been made can man invoke his science
and ingenuity to decide what is the most efficient means for the
chosen agent to achieve his chosen goal.
As Dr. Bauhnsen summarizes, “We
must press on and ask critically about the rationality or the
arbitrariness of our choice of goals.
We can grant the superiority of sciences problem solving tools only
after we are convinced science is dealing with the right problems in the
first place. So then, why
should our goal be that of coping with the environment instead of the
alternative, perhaps more weighty, aims of mystical union with nature,
inner personal rapport, appreciation of beauty, and on and on . . ..
What justifies the particular goal chosen by the empirical
scientist? Perhaps that goal
is simply arbitrary, consequently reintroducing relativism and skepticism
into science. Now,
to avoid arbitrariness and question begging an external justification of
the chosen goal becomes necessary, forcing the pragmatist to go outside
his epistemology and to naturalize his procedures.
This justification will be descriptive in nature claiming that a
given agent, the scientist, succeeds in getting to his given goal if he
adheres to a given method. Now,
when the agent is an individual and the goal is dictated by self interest,
epistemology is naturalized or reduced to psychology, which is what you
find in Quine’s article “Epistemology Naturalized” (and) in
Piaget’s “Genetic Epistemology.”
If the agent is the specie and the goal of science is the survival
of the specie, epistemology is naturalized into biology, which is what you
find in Popper’s “Objective Knowledge” and Steven Toulmin’s
“Human Understanding.” If
you take the agent as a social class, the goal as its domination over
other classes, epistemology reduces to sociology or history, as in Marxist
epistemology, as you also find in the sociology of knowledge.
When the agent is seen as a culture with the goal of serving its
conventional aims, epistemology is reduced to anthropology, which is what
you find in Winche’s book “The Idea of a Social Science.”
The trouble with all of these naturalizing epistemologies, which
reduce to one branch of descriptive science or another, is that they
answer the request for a justification of science by simply skirting
it.”[15]
Science
gives neither a rational nor pragmatic justification for its practice. In
fact, Everitt points out in his analysis of Quines “Epistemology
Naturalized” that since Quine is not concerned about the existence of
the external world, but only about the psychological processes that exist
between the data a person receives, the input, and their view of the
world, the output, that is produced as a result of that data, Naturalized
Epistemology is not dealing with the same question as Traditional
Epistemology and therefore may not really be epistemology at all.[16]
Conclusion
This
epistemological dead end view of history is not just the
speculations of a committed Christian.
Richard Rorty similarly summarizes history.
He says that, “… once upon a time we felt a need to
worship something which lay beyond the visible world.
Beginning in the seventeenth century we tried to substitute a love
of truth for a love of God, treating the world described by science as a
quasi divinity. Beginning at
the end of the eighteenth century we tried to substitute a love of
ourselves for a love of scientific truth…” He
goes on to suggest that we, “…try to get to the point where we no longer worship anything, where
we treat nothing as a quasi divinity, where we treat everything – our
language, our conscience, our community – as a product of time and
chance.”[17]
Cornelius
Van Till points out that this world of chance, that Rorty endorses, is at
the heart of the non-Theistic world-view.
This world of chance is in stark antithetical contrast to the
intentional world-view of Christianity.
It is in this intentional world alone, that the world, man, and
reason are connected. It is in
this intentional world alone, that truth can exist and in which any theory
of knowledge must take place. The
very notion of philosophy and science, as descriptive endeavors,
presupposes that man and the various objects of the world are all united
in a relationship essentially as outlined in our first story.
It presupposes that behind everything is a unifying entity.
Thus, traditional philosophy and science are theistic concepts. Rorty
himself acknowledges this point. He
says, “The
very idea that the world or the self has an intrinsic nature – one which
the physicist or the poet may have glimpsed – is a remnant of the idea
that the world is a divine creation, the work of someone who had something
in mind, who Himself spoke some language in which He described His own
project. Only if we have some
such picture in mind, some picture of the universe as either itself a
person or as created by a person can we make sense of the idea that the
world has an “intrinsic nature.”[18]
What is Rorty saying here? He is saying that the idea of truth as a description of the nature of the world is meaningful only if the world has an intrinsic nature. But the world does not have an intrinsic nature if everything is what it is by chance. In a chance world the properties of a thing are not connected or united to one another. It is infinitely improbable that any two entities will share the same property, or any two properties share the same entity, purely by chance. Only if an entity has in back of it, something by which its possible states of existence are limited, is there a limit to its possible states of existence. Our unifying descriptions of a chance world are fictions. It is only if everything is what it is, not by chance, but by intention that our unifying descriptions of the world can be true and meaningful. Rorty correctly sees that such an intentional world is the world that belongs to our first story. It is a world that came forth from the mind of a divine creator. This theistic story is the precondition not just for truth, knowledge, and the intelligibility of experience, but for metaphysics as well. Rorty has inadvertently given us here the transcendental argument for the existence of God and the truth of His revelation. Karl
Popper gives a good explanation of the Transcendental Argument.
He says, “An argument which appeals to the fact that we
possess knowledge or that we can learn from experience, and which
concludes from this fact that knowledge or learning from experience must
be possible, and further, that every theory which entails the
impossibility of knowledge, or of learning from experience, must be false,
may be called a ‘transcendental argument’.”[19]
For
example, we saw earlier that no direct argument can be given for logic.
Yet, even if we cannot say what logic is, we are not willing to
give it up. For to do so, is
to unravel the entire fabric of epistemology.
And this is exactly why we believe in it.
Not because it is the conclusion of some inductive or deductive
argument, but because it is foundational to inductive and deductive
arguments. This is the strongest inference one can have.
This is a transcendental inference.
It is in this way, we argue for God. What
the history of epistemology teaches us is that man, without an
epistemological jump-start from God, without the revelation of God and the
theistic world view expounded in it, cannot know the nature of himself,
logic, the world, universals, or how they all are, or could be, related.
In short he cannot attain a coherent theory of knowledge.
Consequently, no beliefs can be justified, and no beliefs can
attain to the level of knowledge. Therefore,
because Theistic Revelation alone is the basis upon which knowledge is
possible, it is the precondition for knowledge and is transcendentally and
necessarily true. Autonomous
man can use reason and his senses while denying belief in God, and can
thereby do math, science, and manipulate the world around him.
But, he can give no account of reason and senses apart from
God. Therefore, just as reason
presupposes the actuality of logic whether or not one believes in
it, so, reason presupposes the actuality of God and the truth of
our first story whether or not one believes in it. This
being the case, all arguments are arguments for the existence of God and
no argument against the existence of God can be made.
For in the final analysis, an argument against the existence of God
is like an argument against arguments. It is when one realizes that it is not possible to give an autonomous account of knowledge at all, he comes to a crossroads. He must, either maintain his epistemological autonomy and surrender to the most radical skepticism, or, he must surrender his autonomy to the revelation of God, not as a conclusion that has met the standards of his epistemological criterion, but as the foundation and precondition of the epistemological criterion itself. Without a revelation from God, we cannot know that all the objects of the world are rationally related and that our attributes are appropriate to know it. You
may recognize this as a simple disjunctive syllogism. Given that knowledge
is possible at all, Theonomous Epistemology and Autonomous Epistemology
are antithetical systems. One
must be true and one must be false. If
one is false, then the other is true.
We have seen that, in principle, Autonomous Epistemology is not
possible. On this
premise all facts and all experience are unintelligible.
Therefore, we must conclude that the precondition to knowledge, to
science, and to philosophy is the existence of God and the veracity of his
revelation. One’s
web of beliefs, his world-view, determines the meaning that he applies to
an experience. It is the
foundation and the criterion by which he determines truth.
But, only if man’s mind and senses are appropriate for
discovering the world, and only if his interpretive scheme, his
world-view, is correct can he attain to truth.
But, this is possible only if he is intended for this world,
and only if his world-view comes from someone who is in a position to
know. All other world-views
amount to nothing more than wild guesses and vain imaginings. God is proven, not as the conclusion of rational or empirical theistic arguments, but as the very ground of argument itself. It is with the surrender to God’s view of Himself, the world, and ourselves that one can articulate a coherent theory of knowledge. God’s revelation is not validated by some autonomous epistemology. Rather, our epistemology is validated by the revelation of God and the story contained in that revelation. God’s revelation is self-authenticating, because, by it, everything else is authenticated.
[1] Isaiah 45:18 [2] Gen. 1:5; Lev. 26:4; Jer 33:25 [3] Gen. 1:25 [4] “Coherentism” in “The Cambridge Dictionary of Philosophy” edited by Robert Audi p134 [5] Modern Epistemology: A New Introduction. P180-181 [6] Modern Epistemology: A New Introduction. P181 [7] “From a Logical Point Of View” p44 [8] Contengency, Irony, and Solidarity p 21 [9] “A History of Western Philosophy” p674 [10] “The Methodology of Scientific Research” in Philosophy: An Introduction to the Labor of Reason” p263 [11] The Methodology of Scientific Research [12] “The Problems of Philosophy” p64-65 [13] “The Philosophy of Science” p.xii [14] “Consequences of Pragmatism” p.xvi-xvii [15] Contemporary Problems in Philosophy – Tape [16] Modern Epistemology: A New Introduction [17] “Contingency, irony, and solidarity” p22 [18] “Contingency, irony, and solidarity” p21 [19] “The Logic of Scientific Discovery” p368 footnote
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