In my last blog, I briefly described the Logical Posivitist theory of knowledge, and posed the question: how good is this theory of knowledge? The first questions skeptics will ask - how can we know the answer to this question? If we don't know (in some special, authoritative, sure-fire way) what knowledge is, then how can we know we know what knowledge is. This leads (as so many naive lines of philosophical thought do) to an infinite regression which only delays the inevitable and satisfies no one. This is a faulty approach, and one which, oddly enough, Logical Positivism and its fundamentalist brother, Rationalism (think Logical Positivism without reliance upon empirical data) are highly vulnerable to. The mistake lies in thinking we must build our foundation upon a rock, when -- as spiders illustrate -- one can begin construction of an amazingly strong structure upon the wispiest of filaments, providing our method of construction is sound.

In the case of Logical Positivism, we can begin with the premises for its model of knowledge and examine them, asking questions as to the plausibility of these premises, their truth value, their relation to one another and to the world they purport to describe, most importantly what, if these premises put into practice, we will actually get.

I suggested that one could devise a list -- a test of sorts, or interview sheet -- of systems of knowledge, and apply that list of principles to the epistemic theory in question. Again, there will be the objection that this is like trying to find out how long a stick is -- use a yardstick. But how long is the yardstick? Measure it with another yardstick. Infinite regression, and no certainty to be found along the way. But this is not, in fact, how yardsticks -- of which we have developed many kinds -- come into being, through some sort of higher metaphysical legitimacy. What happens in practice is, first, we decide what it is we wish to measure, and then develop some concept of measure appropriate to the properties of an object we wish to measure, and then develop the measuring tool itself which may be highly imprecise and just as highly arbitrary, and begin measuring. For the yardstick this may have taken mere moments. For the devices used to measure neutrinos, considerable invention, time and effort (and sweat and tears and funding) were required.

The epistemic problem of the validity of measurement (like the philosophy of every other of the many topics I have broached so far) is a complex and involved one, and in mentioning it briefly here, I do not wish to suggest to anyone that my brief initial approaches to issues are a substitute for longer, arduous investigation and debate, much less the end of the matter. It will be a long and overarching theme of my essays (one to be found in all of philosophy) that philosophical begins with naive, almost childlike (not childish) questions -- and answers -- and continues into the entirety of the "deep matter" of the universe, which is why philosophical discussions always run late into the night (and early into the following morning). This is not a flaw of philosophical discussion -- or of its participants, only a consequence of the fact that philosophy is the trunk of a very large tree, and the pursuit of knowledge may involve much scampering along the many branches. The antidote to initial skepticism is that in philosophy one may make assertions (or premises, or assumptions, or tentative or conditional claims at very low cost. The catch of course, is that eventually, one must "cash in" one's claims through some sort of verification of their truth, or face watching one's elegantly crafted argument bounce higher that a three-party out-of-state check.

So let us make some general assumptions about principles of knowledge, what a theory of knowledge is, or should be, and apply them to Logical Positivism. In doing so, we may question the list itself, as well as the system under scrutiny (we will in fact, and in doing so, learn something about what knowledge really is, and -- getting back to our original question -- actually demonstrate and support the claim that we have no moral knowledge, and discover some clues as to why this is the case.

Let us look at a short and general list of "interview questions" we as employers of such a theory of knowledge) might ask. (There is absolutely nothing authoritative, sacred, universal or inviolate about the questions on this list; they come from my experience, which only means that they are not likely to be completely stupid or off-the-wall, and nothing more):

(1) According to your epistemic theory (theory of knowledge), what IS knowledge? What counts as knowledge (according to your theory) and what does not? Are there shades and degrees of knowledge (like high confidence, strong belief, educational guesswork, mere hunch and the like) or is it all or none (complete certainty, or absolute ignorance), or what?

(2) According to your theory, what can we have knowledge OF? What kinds of "things" are there? In what ways, and to what degree and to what extent can we "know" about these things? Are there (possibly -- we may not be able to know) things that are not covered by your theory? Why not? More generally, are all truths knowable, only some of them, or none of them?

(3) What methods, procedures, devices, tools, processes, senses and/or anything else you can come up with is required to obtain the knowledge your theory offers? (Telescopes? Naked-eye witness? Naked ears? Computers? Histories? Video/audio tape? ESP? Purely rational thought. Good hunches? Sacred texts? Brown bags and tweezers? ? ? Interviewers? Rumors and myths? Bones (either as fossils, or as mystical predictors.)

(4) How does one evaluate / verify (confirm, justify, review, correct, revise) / organize (store, collate, organize, generalize, compare and contrast, otherwise relate) / access (distribute, teach, expand / apply this knowledge? Is getting such knowledge practical, or only theoretical?

(5) How stable is the set of knowledge claims your theory offers? Are your system's knowledge claims testable. Are they compatible with one another (internal consistency), and with other systems? How often are such claims found to be incomplete, and why? How difficult are they to "complete", or expand? How often are they found to contain mistakes, and why? How often does one need to revise one's body of knowledge, and under what circumstances? What is the scope of this knowledge (how generalizable is it?
One could ask other questions, and one may wish to kick the tires and ask for a 4-year warranty in the bargain. Note that none of these questions presume that knowledge exists, or is possible, or acquirable in practice, or economically or in a timely manner. They only pose what I think -- and what many people in practice (who use knowledge for some end) -- have found to be prudent questions. It does not imply that any system of knowledge will satisfy the interviewer at all, much less to the degree hoped for.

Skeptics are free to questions these questions, but must pay for their skepticism (as responsible skeptics always do) by explaining and justifying their doubt. For example, one may argue that there is no general definition of knowledge, that it is non-cognitive (i.e., "intuitive", like Justice Potter's definition of pornography ("I know it when I see it")). However, it seems like a bad start for a competing theory of knowledge to claim that it does not know what the subject of its own theory is. (And yet, GE Moore, in his "Principia Ethica, 1903 -- the start of our current troubled period in ethical history -- makes exactly that claim about ethical knowledge, that it is at best intuitive, and at worst, purely subjective.)

Skeptics might also argue that it does not matter how we collect the data, so long as the data is good -- which only begs the question: how do we know the data is good? Questions about our tools and methods for collecting facts (if there are any for the subject at hand) I would argue are appropriate. It is certainly not controversial to ask if some old tool or new methodology will do as it is expected under the theory in question. To give a fairly significant historical example, the claim of British Empiricism was that deductions about the nature of the world were based on "sense-data" -- on our experiences and perceptions as gathered through our eyes, ears, noses, etc. Well and good you might say.

But the Empiricist epistemic principle: base your knowledge judgments on sense-data, was compromised from the start. By the time Locke, Hume and others espoused this principle, scientists had already accepted (for better or worse) non-Empirical data and methods of inference. Two notable and highly popular inventions -- the telescope and the microscope -- violated the principle that our senses should be the sole source of experiential data. True, we acquired visual sense-data by looking through these scopes -- but sense-data of what? Did these instruments truly preserve the causal relation between the sense-data we receive, and the objects these sense data are purportedly of? The matter is not trivial. Although questions regarding the telescope and microscope have been largely resolved (but remember that every time you see a color photo of a germ or a nebula, chances are that the colors are "fictitious" -- artistic renderings used for visual contrast, and not the actual colors of the objects you see in the photo), the slew of instruments that have come since increasingly test the basic principles of Empiricism, and the patience of critics of scientific endeavor. At present, String Theory -- the theory that the "fundamental" particles of the universe are closed loops (think donuts, or hula hoops) -- is based almost purely on mathematical models, a methodology that goes back at least as far as Einsteinian Relativity Theory. (Einstein's justification for the reliability and scope of Relativity Theory's claims about "unseeables" was that the universe at this level was like a pocket watch: we see the hands move across the dial and hear the ticking, and construct models as to what (generally speaking) must, or at least could, be going on inside.)

The point is not -- as the post-Modernists will later claim -- that we have no knowledge of anything, but that finding epistemic principles that will justify our acceptance (or rejection) of knowledge claims is by no means easy, straightforward or settled.

Lets take a peak now at Logical Positivism:

Mindful of our "list" (which I will not go through point by point here, I will only highlight certain positives and negatives) we can imagine the pitch:

"Logical Positivism carries the principles of Empiricism to its logical conclusion. LP claims are based on two things: empirical observation and logical inference. If an entity exists, we can detect it in some way, if not directly by sight, sound, smell and the like, then by extension from instruments and methods that "make visible" the properties of that object. So even "invisible" entities like germs (too small to see), black holes (too dark), radio waves (we don't have a sense to pick up radio waves), plate tectonic shifts (too slow), proton decay (too fast) and the Big Bang (we were born too late) or the Sun going nova (we were born too early) can be inferred by reliable methodologies. To make such inferences we using valid logical argument, which preserves the truth value of any true assumptions we make. And of course, by relying only on Empirical sense data, we know that our assumptions are correct. We do not "multiply entities endlessly" (as William of Ockham's "razor" principle cautions us -- weaving stories or creating imaginary objects or phenomena to support our claims -- we stick to the facts, and to logical proofs."

"What sorts of facts? What kinds of proof? Well, we start wit our sense (going back to Rene Descartes' "Meditations") and work from there. By adding new observations and making logical inferences from them we gradually fill out the picture. Everything we can know, which is to say, everything that there is, has some influence on the universe as a whole, which means we can, through a reliable chain of causality, make inferences about anything that really exists. "Gravity", "black holes" and "atoms" were once "metaphysical speculations" -- Newton didn't believe in "action at a distance" (gravity) -- but time and dint of effort reveals all that there is. All knowledge claims come from verified observation: it is either a direct perception, or a logical inference from direct perceptions. Inferential knowledge claims are fully supported by evidence, and proofs are supported by true assumptions. Moreover, through logic, we can generalize. Things are not things in themselves, but instances of some "kind". All carbon atoms are alike, so we can conclude that chemical or atomic interactions involving carbon atoms will always turn out the same, other things being equal. Hence we can not only make specific claims about individual observations, we can infer by similarity that like cases involve the same entities and processes -- you don't have to open up every watch to understand how clockworks function. By careful observation and sound inference, we can deduce the general laws -- the "Theory of Everything" as they call it nowadays -- that define the entire universe.

"This thoroughness of knowledge is based on the fact that the natural world is physicalized mathematics. In mathematics, the vast multitude of numbers and operations and other mathematical entities logically follow from a very tiny number of very simple premises and operations -- the "seed" of information that produces the entire "plant" of the universe through the expression of these laws. And not only is Reality mathematical, mathematics is logic: sound and complete. That is, every deduction (every proof of fact) from basic principles is valid; LP, properly applied, produces no falsehoods. AND, every truth out there is provable. If you cannot prove a claim, by direct observation or by inference using the scientific method, it simply isn't true."

Well, thank you for your presentation, LP. You make some very impressive claims for your system. I'm running late just now, would you mind coming back again so that I may clarify some questions I have?

Certainly.

Thank you very much.

[Next: Logical Positivism On the Rack.]

TWO EXTREMES IN THE SEARCH FOR KNOWLEDGE

Before offering a more pragmatic approach to knowledge (in support of the claim that we have at present no store of ethical knowledge), I would like to present two views of knowledge that have defined the parameters of 20th century knowledge and which permeate our present-day view of the world -- for well or ill. Diametrically opposed -- often flatly contradictory -- these theories compete for our attention and our acceptance, as heated business rivals vie for market share, each offering their own explanation and methodology for ascertaining truths about the natural world and the world of personal experience.

The first, which rose to unprecedented fame and influence in the first half of the 20th century, is Logical Positivism, an epistemology that has characterized and shaped our modern view of secular, natural science. The second -- in keeping with its anti-analytical, anti-systematic view of reality -- has no specific official designation, but encompasses Subjectivism, Relativism, post-Modernism and a host of other late 20th century views of knowledge, and has absorbed traditional "mystic" knowledge of all kinds, from personal intuitions to cultural and religious lore -- all of the "knowledge" that doesn't fit into the Logical Positivist straightjacket, but which Positivists -- and others -- would claim is not genuine knowledge .

As I hope to argue later on, each of these accounts grasps certain intuitions about reality, only to let other parts of reality slip away. Nor is it simply a case of "putting the two pieces together" to get the complete picture, for the knowledge claims of these two epistemologies is fundamantally incompatible -- although either is believable, they cannot both be true ("true" in the same sense in both cases). Something must give: either one of these views of reality is simply wrong (or inferior to the other), or our very understanding of "knowledge" is wrong in some important way, and needs to be corrected or completely revised.

I will not attempt to give a full and complete account of either position here, much less describe the heated controversy that has raged over the last few decades; here I will only sketch out the general form of each epistemic position, with an eye to the "rules" for each position's criteria for counting certain assertions as "knowledge". I will examine Logical Positivism (in an extreme and probably oversimplified form) in this and the next blog; following that, I will examine the other view -- for simplicity's sake, referred to as "post-Modernism" (again in an extreme and oversimplified form). Again, the aim of this present discussion on epistemology (the study of what we know, and can and cannot know) is to understand why we have at present no ethical knowledge.

RAISING THE EPISTEMIC BAR: FORMALIZATION, UNIVERSALIZATON AND REDUCTIONISM

The first phase of 20th century Epistemology: Logical Positivism, is the father/mother of our modern image of scientists and of the institution of Science itself. The scientist is a priest, donned in a white robe (lab coat), sworn to vows of objectivity (the view from nowhere), cold, emotionless, dispassionate, persistent dedicated, unbiased, disinterested and unprejudiced. (S)He/it is gender neutral -- a social drone -- apolitical, unreligious, unaesthetic, impersonal and unfeeling. (S)He/it seeks Truth for its own sake, not for personal interest or gain, nor even for practical or political application. Indifferent to society's needs, wants, concerns, understanding or support -- even survival -- the scientist is a monk stationed in a laboratory, the scene for his/her revelatory work. This image, as presented, has worked its way into our folklore (think science fiction B-movie clichés) and our culture (from commercials appealing to studies by "leading scientists", to labs, institutions and mounds of "data"), to the point where the mere appearance or invocation of scientific imagery has a persuasive force upon its consumers comparable to that of a priest or shaman of a religious-based culture bearing a holy relic.
Logical positivist claims of knowledge are not merely true, but settled. The results of Scientific Methodology are truth claims that are universal, couched in the form of "laws". These laws are invariably neat, simple, unambiguous, few, complete, certain, exceptionless, precise, inevitable and universal. Science itself -- the methodological structure by which knowledge is acquired, evaluated and confirmed is not a work in progress, subject to review, correction and revision, but a sound and complete and system. Scientific methodology -- the carrying out, or "expression", of the rules of scientific inquiry -- is attained through a rigorous, exacting and demanding process. It is the careful, persistent and ritualistic application of a precise, well-defined, algorithmic method, an exhaustive set of principles of investigation that yield all and only knowledge.
A belief that is not supported by science (the word "science" means "to know"), isn't knowledge; such beliefs are spurious, and may be superstition, opinion, fiction, myth, speculation or delusion -- but not knowledge.
The world in all of its facets is entirely disclosable to us. "Hidden" forces (that Einstein and others appealed to in preference to an acceptance of quantum mechanics (which threw the first monkey-wrench into the Logical Positivist program) are non-existent. All that is true is provable (or otherwise demonstrable) in principle. Discovery is essentially a matter of persistent application (i.e., the iteration) of fundamental principles of discovery, the legendary calculus of the Scientific Method. Progress in science consists of eliminating unprovable or ungrounded beliefs and unconfirmed vagaries; it is a process of demystification, a kind of cosmic "inventory" in progress.
An essential feature of Logical Positivist science is Reduction. Occam's razor (first conceived of by William of Ockham in the 1300s) -- the principle that all unnecessary aspects of an explanation be discarded from the final theory -- is but one piece of silverware in the Positivist Reductionist arsenal of cutlery. Reduction takes many forms, and can be thought of as an integral part of the fundamental process of Generalization: the gathering of individual truth claims into Universal laws. Here are two illustrative examples. (1) Empirical Generalization: We observe that this swan is white, and the swan over there is white and that all of the swans seen this week in this region are white, and after more such like observation draw the general inference "All swans are white" from our collection of individual truth claims (generalization by Scientific Induction). (2) We (mathematically) observe that "1 + 1 = 2 x 1", "2 + 2 = 2 x 2", "3 + 3 = 2 x 3" and so on, and using mathematical induction, conclude that for all integers 'y', "y + y = 2y". An even more powerful form of reduction occurs when one set of phenomena -- chemical phenomena, say -- can be "reduced' (explained fully, without loss of truth claims or introduction of falsehoods) to another set of phenomena, say physics. (If all knowledge of chemistry can be explained in terms of physics, chemistry is merely a subset of physics, and the former is "reduced" to the latter. On the mathematical front, mathematics (thanks largely to Gottlob Frege, Bertram Russell and Alfred Whitehead in the first decades of the 20th century) has been (or been attempted to be) reduced to arithmetic: all more complex mathematical operations and entities can be simplified to arithmetic: a transcendental number like Pi can be reduced to a series of arithmetic digits (3.14159...), calculus operations can be reduced to series of arithmetic operations (sums, or divisions, etc.) The long term goal of logical Positivism is to reduce all physical sciences to Physics, to reduce Physics to Mathematics, and finally to reduce Mathematics to Formal Logic. When accomplished, knowledge -- all knowledge could then be fed into a computation "machine", and given time, all truths could be generated by the appropriate algorithm automatically, ending the need for "creative thought", "hunches", "inspiration" and other haphazard methods of inquiry. Obtaining the answer to any question -- any question at all -- would then be a matter of waiting in line until one's number is called.

As brief and simplistic as this sketch of Logical Positivism is, it should be familiar to most of us -- so familiar in fact that the average person is likely to think that that is what knowledge is, or at least likely to think that that is what society thinks that knowledge is. One may or may not be pleased with this "official" approach to knowledge. Some find it overbearing and pompous, if not cold and indifferent to social concerns -- and sometimes outright malevolent (the all-too-familiar "mad scientist" stereotype is at least as familiar as the scientist-as-sage-and-provider). And many see it as limited, or even demonic in its wholesale rejection of religious and spiritual traditions, all of which fall under the razor. Others still -- in light of the wealth of discoveries rigorous modern science has brought us, and in the face of the discomforts and horrors it has also brought us -- embrace Positivistic science as the armed and armored guardian that shields us from traditional superstition, occult mysticism and blind faith (epistemic models fraught with their own problems). Whether the move from traditional belief to Logical Positivism is itself a step forward, a step backward, or merely a side-step has been debated at length. Certainly the overwhelming public acceptance of Positivism in this last century has not meant that general understanding of the world has increased, only, as it seems at times from public reaction, that one idol has been replaced with another.

Now it is time to introduce a bit of "meta-philosophy" -- philosophical analysis applied to philosophy itself. Just as a diamond (the hardest known substance in nature or laboratory) is put to good use by cutting other diamonds, so too, philosophy can be used to evaluate itself. (One may be suspicious of this "fox-guarding-the-henhouse" maneuver, but with experience one finds that philosophy is perhaps the most effectively self-critical discipline there is. Still, one may -- as always in philosophical discussion and analysis -- withhold one's judgment until thoroughly convinced; there is never any pressure or obligation to "buy".)

What I am going to do is this. Having given a (very rough) sketch of the principles of Logical Positivism, which as a particular epistemology (a philosophical theory of knowledge) makes certain claims as to what knowledge is, and how to get it and why to trust to it, I will now set up an examining table on which Logical Positivism itself is to be evaluated. After all, anyone cam some up with assertions as to what is knowledge, and what isn't. If it were a mere matter of faith, or personal preference, or mere convenience, one could accept the first theory of knowledge to come along, and pay no more attention to its actual effectiveness or reasonableness or practical usefulness or reliability than a new diet book or spiritual guide.

But if a theory of knowledge -- like Logical Positivism -- steps forward and claims that it is the right or best or most appropriate way to uncover and evaluate knowledge, we can certainly ask whether it really works or not. After all, the landscape is littered with bust-developers, scalp-massagers, diet pills and exercise equipment sold on the specific claim that they would enlarge one's chest, regrow hair, lower one's weight or build muscle, and they either do these things, or they don't (most don't). It is only fair and reasonable -- if one seeks knowledge in the first place -- to ask for assurances, or some sort of proof or evidence or reasons, that the propounded theory will do as it advertises. We can ask of Logical Positivism, or post-Modernism, or of any procedure or practice whether it works as advertised. And now I will do just that.

I said earlier that Epistemology is the branch of philosophy which studies what we can and cannot know. If a particular methodology claims to give us knowledge, we may ask whether it does, and if so, how we know that it does, and how such a methodology works, and what kinds of knowledge it will indeed give us (if properly applied).

To make such an evaluation, it is helpful to ask just what it is we expect in the way of the product; in this case, just what we expect Logical Positivism (or post-Modernism, or some other epistemology) to give us. We can even set up a general checklist of things to look for (as we might for purchasing a new car or cyclotron, or hiring a housekeeper or professional hit-man). What would such a checklist for an epistemology look like, and how would it help us? Well, as we are looking for a useful and reliable epistemology, we would expect a candidate for our desired epistemology to do certain things. One epistemology may offer different features than another, one may be easier to implement, or harder, than another, and the expected results may be different -- an epistemology of mathematics (a very hot topic in the early 20th century) would help us find and evaluate mathematical theorems and formulas -- not at all helpful if one is a social psychologist looking for a theory of human behavior, but just the thing for a mathematician trying to organize a theory of arithmetic, or a more complex mathematical model.

To get to the point, here are some "checklist" items one shopping for an epistemology might keep in mind (and ask the dealer about):

(1) According to this epistemic theory (theory of knowledge), what IS knowledge? What counts as knowledge (in this theory) and what does not? Are there shades and degrees of knowledge, or is it all one or the other (certainty, or ignorance)?

(2) (Again, according to this theory) what can we have knowledge OF? What kinds of "things" are there? In what ways, and to what degree and to what extent can we "know" about these things?

(3) What methods, procedures, devices, tools, processes, senses and/or anything else is required to obtain the knowledge this theory offers? (Telescopes? Naked eyes? Naked ears? Computers? Notebooks? Audio tape? Eyewitnesses? ESP? Brown bags and tweezers? ? ?)

(4) How does one evaluate / verify (confirm, justify, review, correct, revise) / organize (store, collate, organize, generalize, compare and contrast, otherwise relate) / access (distribute, teach, expand / apply this knowledge?

One may think of many more categories of questions, and certainly many more specific levels of questions about our epistemic theory, but these at least give a good idea of what questions we can, and should ask about any epistemic theory. The (correct) answers to these questions will shed light on what we may expect in the way of results in applying this theory, just as discovering that a car has seven (or no) wheels, or that a housekeeper is blind, or speaks only Farsi, or has an uncanny ability to remove dust and stains from furniture, would help us determine what to expect in the way of performance or services in those respective areas.

[And as frivolous or pointless as this may seem in the abstract (it will get a lot less abstract in just a moment) this is no idle exercise. My (East) Indian philosophy professor, Dr. Naryan Champawat taught a survey course in the various philosophies of India (spanning some 4500 years and a continent-sized region of the world) and used exactly this method in presenting evaluating and comparing each of the philosophies under review. He did this by using a very simple approach: breaking down each of the many and varied (!) philosophies into three meaningfully anatomical parts: Metaphysics (what "things" there were, according to the particular philosophy), Epistemology (as we have seen -- what "knowledge" is, how it is acquired, and what it is OF, according to the philosophy being examined), and Ethics (what obligations and permissions people have under this theory). One can meaningfully and fruitfully analyze the most radically different philosophies under this approach, as we will soon see.]

So what does Logical Positivism have to offer its buyers?

In my next blog I will offer a consumer evaluation of Logical Positivism, and in the following blogs, a comparable evaluation of post-Modernism. After that, the task will be to show that ethical knowledge falls cleanly through both of these sieves (for radically different reasons), and as a result, we have no such knowledge because our current theories of knowledge simply do not capture the sort of knowledge that ethics requires.

The task then will be to argue that (a) there is such a thing as ethical knowledge, and (b) how we may go about looking for it and getting it, and evaluating it and storing it and applying it.