Realism vs. Anti-realism

            It is funny how the addition of a single word to a statement can completely change its meaning.  Yet, that is exactly what Van Fraassen does in order to solidify the realists’ point of view.  To be clear, the word “aims” changes a sentence from a na�ve statement to the correct statement.  “Science gives us, in its theories, a literally true story of what the world is like; and acceptance of a scientific theory involves the belief that it is true (1066).”  This is not a valid claim, and Van Fraassen states that the correct statement for the realist to agree to is: “Science aims to give us, in its, theories, a literally true story of what the world is like; and acceptance of a scientific theory involves the belief that it is true (1066).”  Van Fraassen goes on to discuss that by adding the word “aim” to the statement, we define what would classify as success.  Additionally, this statement does not discount that other aims may exist. 

 

Now, it is clear that the realists believe that scientific theories tell a story about the world that is literally true.  However, there is more to their position than the literal truth of a statement: epistemology.  In order for a realist to accept that a theory is true, they must believe that it is true.  Van Fraassen goes on to discuss that “if acceptance of a theory is the belief that that it is true, then tentative acceptance involves the tentative adoption of the belief that it is true.  If a belief comes in degrees, so does acceptance, and we may then speak of a degree of acceptance involving a certain degree of belief that the theory is true (1067).”  So, it has been discussed that when accepting a theory as being true, the realist “puts their foot down” and says yes, this is true.  If there are varying degrees of acceptance, can the realists have varying degrees of “putting their foot down?”

 

            When dealing with scientific theories in which there may be varying degrees of acceptance, perhaps the better position may be on the side of the anti-realist.  As Van Fraassen puts it, “the proposer does not assert the theory; he displays it, and claims certain virtues of it (1067).”  However, the language of a theory can divide the anti-realist stance into two positions.  Either the proposed theory should not be taken literally; or the theory should be taken literally, but the theory does not need to be entirely true to be considered successful.  This division provides the basis for Van Fraassen’s Constructive Empiricism.  Constructive Empiricism aligns itself with the latter of the two anti-realist divisions by replacing the realists’ “true” with “empirically adequate.”  In other words, “science aims to give us theories which are empirically adequate; and the acceptance of a theory involves as belief only that it is empirically adequate (1069).” 

 

            Empirically adequate?  This idea opens up the debate we had regarding observables and un-observables.  As one might imagine, observables are those objects, events, or things that can be seen with our senses.  Conversely, un-observables are those proposed objects, events, or things that we cannot see with our senses.  So how does the observable/ un-observable debate distinguish between the realist and constructive empiricism positions?  The answer lies in the acknowledgement of un-observables and the use of inferences.

 

            Realists can use observations in conjunction with logic and inferences to accept theories regarding unobservable.  However, the anti-realist that follows constructive empiricism does not acknowledge un-observables.  Rather, while the observations, logic, and inferences made by the realist may allow them to accept an un-observable to be “true,” to the constructive empiricist, the theory is “empirically adequate.”  Van Fraassen’s example about the mouse in wainscoting on pages 1076-1077 provides a clearer picture of how the realists’ “true” and the anti-realists’ “empirically adequate” are equivalent.  “I hear scratching in the wall, the patter of little feet at midnight, my cheese disappears (1076).”  Now, through the use of logic and inferences, the realist would say that there is a mouse and believe it to be true.  The anti-realist/ constructive empiricist would say that the events taking place are empirically adequate, but not necessarily true.

 

            Another key distinction that Van Fraassen discusses is the difference between “observing” and “observing that.”  For a concrete example, we could refer to page 1072 and read his discussion about a person from the stone-age throwing a tennis ball or witnessing a car crash.  However, I’ll refer back to our discussion of wind as an observable or un-observable.  For the sake of the debate between “observing” and “observing that,” let’s assume that we know wind is an observable thing/event.  But, when we see a flag blowing in the air, we assume that we are “observing that” it is the wind that is causing that.  Our experiences and contextual knowledge allow us to make this assumption.  However, if someone who has no knowledge of wind sees the same event, they would simply be “observing” a flag whipping in the air, not knowing why or what is causing it to do so.  So why is this important?

 

            The distinction between “observing” and “observing that” is more important to the realist rather than the anti-realist because of the realist’s use of logic and inference to accept a scientific theory as being true.  Could a realist accept a theory about un-observables without the use of contextual knowledge to form inferences?  No.  Let us assume that we know what a mouse is if we observe it, but have no knowledge about the phenomena of an un-observable mouse.    Using the mouse in wainscoting example, what if we had no knowledge of mice or their behaviors?  In other words, what if we could not “observe that,” but could only “observe?”  If this was the case, we could only see that something was scratching the wall, something was causing the cheese to disappear, and something’s feet were pattering at midnight.  Yet, we could not accept that a theory about a mouse was true from the realist’s point of view.  However, the anti-realist/ constructive empiricist could accept a theory about the presence of a mouse that was based on these phenomena.  For instance, even without contextual knowledge about the behavior of mice, if someone said that a mouse exhibits these behaviors, the constructive empiricist could accept the theory as being “empirically adequate,” but not necessarily true.

 

            After attempting to dissect the positions of the realist and anti-realist, specifically the Van Fraassen’s constructive empiricist, I find that I am both a realist and a constructive empiricist.  I know this may sound weird, but I think it depends on the circumstances.  I will admit that I am sometimes a realist and accept some theories about un-observables that are based on logic and inferences constructed from observable objects, events, and things.  Yet, there are other theories that I accept, but do not necessarily believe to be true.

 

            When dealing with everyday life events, I feel that my thinking and acceptance of theories are more like those of a realist.  As we discussed in class, I will use the “robbery” of our apartment as an example.  We comeback from class one day and find that our door is open, the knob and lock are broken, our television and laptop are gone, and our room has been completely rummaged through, with clothes all over the place.  As a realist, I would infer that I was robbed.  Yet, as we discussed in class, there are an infinite number of possibilities that could explain what happened: someone walking by accidently bumped the door and broke the door, then a friend came by to borrow your laptop, then your roommate took the television to get it fixed, and finally, your enraged ex wanted his/her stuff back and trashed your room.  As a realist in this situation, I may acknowledge the fact that the other things could have happened, but the likelihood of all of those events taking place is highly improbable.  As a result, I infer that a robbery is the most probable situation that provides the most truth about what happened.  Further, based on the observations and contextual knowledge, I can infer and accept that the theory about a robbery is indeed “true.”

 

            However, Fine claims that “realism is dead (1186).”  Theoretically, there are an infinite number of theories to explain how the world is and why it is the way that it is.  In light of this, the realist constrains himself/herself to a “small handful” of theories.  Personally, I think Fine is right to a certain degree.  That degree is when trying to explain the way the world works.  There are things about this world and the way it works, both observable and un-observable, that we do not know the “truth” about.  As such, there are an infinite number of theories that could explain these phenomena.  However, in the case of a proposed robbery, how a car works, how our brains signal our bodies to work, etc., the realist point of view is more applicable.  In these instances, there are only a small handful of theories that can be accepted as “true.”  Fine’s infinite number of theories is more likely to be accepted as “empirically adequate.”  In short, realism is not dead.

 

            As science continues to discover, rather than invent, I fail to see how we can completely discount a position.  As humans, we naturally have contextual knowledge, use logic, and make inferences.  As a result, we cannot completely accept everything we know about the world around us without at least once seeing it from the realists’ point of view.  Similarly, we will except every theory ever proposed to us to be “true.”  We may accept these theories to be “empirically adequate” and accept them as a result of the fact that there are no other proposed theories to explain certain phenomena, but we may not admit nor accept that the theory is true.  For example, I may believe that the orbit of the Earth is elliptical, which explains why it is hotter in summer than in winter.  However, science teaches that the orbit is a concentric circle.  Based on the information provided and my lack of ability to empirically test the orbit of the Earth, I can accept the theory of a circular orbit as being “empirically adequate,” but not necessarily true.  This would classify me as a constructive empiricist. 

 

            In the end, perhaps I best fit into position of the NOA, the Natural Ontological Attitude.  The “core position” is the simple “acceptance of truths” (1199).  From here, based on a particular circumstance or event, I become a realist and simply “put my foot down” and say yes, this really is the truth.  Or, I become an anti-realist or constructive empiricist and add a special analysis of concepts.  For now, I will not confine myself to being a realist, anti-realist, constructive empiricist, or a devout follower of NOA.  Rather, I think I will continue to allow myself and my beliefs roam freely between them.

Ayer vs. Dretske

     Over the past several weeks, we have spent a great deal of time discussing various approaches to understanding laws of nature.  First off, we dove into Ayer’s argument for the epistemological regularity theory.  This was followed by Dretske’s necessitarian approach.  Although Mellor and Cartwright discussed other strengths and weaknesses of natural laws, I will focus on discussing the arguments put forth by Ayer and Dretske, as I feel most of the class time was spent on analyzing and dissecting these viewpoints.  Hopefully by the end of this discussion, I will have broken down the core ideas of each author and taken a stance on which, if any, is the best approach to truly understanding laws of nature.

           

            “My suggestion is that the difference between our two types of generalizations lies not so much on the side of the facts which make them true or false, as in the attitude of those who put them forward.”  While Ayer proceeds to confuse us with his differentiation between generalizations of fact and generalizations of law, the theme of his argument can be found in one word: attitude.  The foundation of the epistemological regularity approach: our attitudes dictate laws of nature.  In order to accept a law of nature, our attitude must prevent the presentation of another property or circumstance from weakening the statement of law.  Does this make sense?  Before we take a stance on this, remember the argument proposed by Hume and Ayer that observations and prior knowledge are required in order to understand laws of nature.  To these authors, without observation and prior knowledge, we would simply be making arbitrary guesses.  Now, if laws of nature stem from experience, observation, and prior knowledge, which inherently are the foundation of our attitudes and beliefs, then shouldn’t it follow that laws of nature then depend on our attitudes as well.  This seems logical enough to me.  However, can we accept laws of nature simply because they are true based on logic? 

            Dretske says no.  In his eyes, laws are not simply what universally true statements express.  This is where vacuous laws enter the picture.  Vacuous laws are universally true statements that are only true for the simple reason that the predicate in the antecedent of the statement refers to a class that does not exist.  For all x, if x is kryptonite, then x is green.  Since kryptonite does not exist, the statement cannot be proven wrong and is therefore true.  However, it is not a law.  Although Ayer could counter vacuous laws by saying universal generalizations are only true when referring to existing things, this is where Dretske moves away from the regularity approach and toward the necessitarian approach.  Ayer and other regularitists relate all particular things of one class to another class.  Dretske and other necessitarians relate one universal property to another universal property.  The universal statement of particulars verses the particular statements of universals.  Dretske’s core argument is that the necessitarian approach to laws of nature holds that the possession of one property guarantees the possession of another: FnessGness.  The regularity approach cannot impart this guarantee because it is a universal statement about all members of one class and not a property of that class.  Since the regularity approach is dependent on attitudes, how can it impart a guarantee when the statement of truth changes as our attitudes change? 

Let’s look at the people in a bar to clear things up.  The regularity approach would say “all of the people in the bar are seniors.”  The necessitarian approach would say “being in this bar entails being a senior.”  Who is right?  You could argue that it is true that all of the people in the bar are seniors.  But this could be based on prior knowledge that only seniors were allowed in.  If this is the case, then we play into the core of Ayer’s argument that prior knowledge is required to understand laws.  Additionally, if we accept the statement “all of the people in the bar are seniors” to be a law, what happens when are beliefs and attitudes change?  Say we observe something that makes us believe some of the people may be alumni.  Does the original statement lose its status as being a law?  To me, yes.  As a result, the regularity approach has an extreme amount of wiggle room to identifying laws. 

On the other hand, the property of being in the bar does not necessarily guarantee being a senior, making the statement false by the necessitarian approach.  If some property about the being at the bar entailed being a senior, then the statement would be a law.  So which one is it?  Are laws particular statements about universal properties rather than universal statements about particulars?  Is Dretske right?  Is Ayer still right?  Is neither right?

            So who is right?  Although I agree with Ayer that our epistemological beliefs and attitudes, as well as our observations and prior knowledge, are key to understanding laws of nature (law = universal truth + X), I believe that the necessitarian approach by Dretske is stronger.  The foundation of the regularity approach is the attitude held toward a universal truth.  What if our attitudes change?  By the logic of this approach, if attitudes change, then the laws change.  How can a statement be a law of nature if it always has the possibility of change?  On the other hand, I feel that the necessitarian approach that makes universal statements about particulars is the way to go.  FnessGness, in which having one property guarantees having another, eliminates the possibility for exceptions and change to refute laws.  With the necessitarian approach, laws of nature are dependent on properties rather than objects, universals rather than particulars, and guarantees rather than personal attitudes and opinions.  The necessitarian view allows for the statement of laws that are not subject to the “exceptions” that may refute laws under the regularity view.  A universal property of a particular is not subject to exceptions.  In the end, both the regularity and necessitarian approaches can offer a valid understanding of laws of nature, but the necessitarian approach is stronger.

6 F-ness –> G-ness

Like Eric, I too am hung up on what exactly Dretske means when he talks about extensions and intensions.  However, I am more focused on his discussion of 6 F-ness–> G-ness.  On page 830, Dretske states that if “F” and “K” are coextensive, and “F” must be “G”, we cannot say that “K” must be “G”.  For, although “F must be G” is a law, we cannot imply that because K is coextensive to F, that the same connection between F and G exists between K and G. 

Okay, if you are with me so far, Dretske throws a curve on page 839.  On page 839, he states that “coextensive terms can be freely exchanged for “F-ness” and “G-ness” without jeopardizing its truth value.”  Now, this is completely contradictory to his discussion on page 830.  So, according to page 839, if “K” is coextensive to “F”, then we can say that if “F must be G,” “K must also be G.”  My only thinking regarding the difference between pages 830 and 839 is that “F,” “K,” and “G” on page 830 are specific objects (“transparent”) and “F-ness” and “G-ness” are properties (“opaque”).  I could be way off on my interpretation of this, so please feel free to comment if you can clear things up for me.