Brian Weatherson (home page, blog) has authored an SEP article on David Lewis. In it he ably takes on the difficult task of summarizing in a few dozen pages the work of one of the most prominent and productive philosophers of the latter part of the twentieth century.
One section addressed something I had idly wondered about Lewis. As Weatherson discusses in his section 5, entitled “Humean Supervenience”, much of Lewis work involved reduction: whether the subject was the mind, language, laws of nature, or causation (modality was a rather spectacular exception), he presented arguments that all the truths about a world ultimately supervene on a set of (perfectly natural) properties and relations in that world. He then argued that these, in turn, are intrinsic properties of point-sized objects and spatiotemporal relations. (The “Humean” aspect of this is that he follows the spirit of Hume’s “dictum” that there are no necessary relations between distinct entities.)
What I had wondered was: did Lewis ever acknowledge that his picture of locally distributed point-sized objects in a space-time container was a classical view, inconsistent with modern physics?
Those who challenged this aspect of Lewis’ work over the years argued that his supervenience base is incapable of supporting some of the truths about the world, and so his attempts at reduction fail. However, most critics haven’t quibbled with the assumptions about physics, rather they argue that some additional higher-level properties and/or relations need to be added to explain the world. Even many materialist philosophers think additional brute metaphysical structure beyond the basic physical entities is required (this debate was the subject of this old post); some philosophers think necessary connections are needed to explain causation; dualists will see a need for fundamental mental properties and perhaps psycho-physical laws.
But, Weatherson notes that a second way to argue against Lewis’ project is indeed to point out that modern physics is inconsistent with Lewis’ notions. At a minimum, he says, quantum physics seems to need non-spatiotemporal relations to explain Bell’s theorem.
Weatherson explains that Lewis was indeed aware that his picture was inconsistent with quantum physics, but still thought it was extremely valuable to defend the thesis regardless of that fact. Weatherson explains the idea as follows: to the extent his picture of physics is wrong, it is because physics has more content in it (e.g. entanglement relations) rather than less. So, if Lewis can successfully defend reduction of various folk theories on his terms, it will remain a valuable accomplishment.
That makes sense, but I still wonder if explicitly reckoning with quantum physics and its interpretation couldn’t helpfully reframe these philosophical debates. There is more to the shift from classical physics to quantum physics than just adding some non-local connections. There is the quantum measurement event itself, which I see as an ineliminable new addition to the basic constituents of nature. I think that mind and causation might be the targets of successful reduction given an improved supervenience base which featured a network of measurement events in its basic ontology. (Also, one neat thing about taking this approach is that we could hold on to Hume’s dictum. He may not have known about QM, but I think the indeterminism involved in measurement events is consistent with his insight.)
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Monday, July 20, 2009
Kriegel on Animal Rights, Part Two
(Note: part one of this post is here)
In section 5 of his paper, Uriah Kriegel outlines a proposal for a different, non-consequentialist, ethical framework for animal rights. He starts by saying he admires the part of Kantian (deontological) moral philosophy known as the “humanity formula”: one should treat another’s humanity (or one’s own) as an end in itself, not as a means to an end. To extend this approach, he suggests substituting “conscious creatures” for “humanity”.
With some alterations (including what he calls a “virtue-ethical” twist), the formula becomes:
“One should have the stable, dominating disposition to treat conscious creatures as ends in themselves and not merely as means to other ends.”
The “stable, dominating disposition” phraseology allows us to avoid absolutism in the formula. Including “merely” allows for cases where an animal might be treated in some fashion as a means as well as an end in itself. Kriegel notes that much more could be said about all of the nuances here, but he moves on to give examples of how this kind of formula would result in different results compared to a consequentialist formula. Importantly, they differ on whether it is right to kill or exploit an animal if could be done painlessly. By assigning conscious animals intrinsic moral worth, one expands the animal rights case (for those animals considered conscious).
I liked this proposal very much, since I have long been attracted to the idea of assigning intrinsic moral status on the basis of consciousness (although I came to the idea from a different direction – see an old post on this here and other posts with the Morals tag). And while I certainly don’t read a lot of philosophical papers on this topic, I hadn’t seen this proposed before in the literature.
In the last section of the paper, Kriegel returns to the risk that we err in our empirical assessment of the presence of consciousness in various animals. Here he proposes that, given the uncertainty involved, we should assign probabilities to the presence of consciousness. Further we should use a function which maps this probability to an even more generous probability that a given animal should be afforded rights. While all of the numbers we might assign are going to be imprecise, by being cautious about what we know and building in a cushion in our formulas, we can reduce mistakes while pressing the circle of moral generosity outward.
My own view is that in our judgments we should explicitly consider that consciousness comes in degrees, rather than being an all-or-nothing phenomenon. But working with Kriegel’s probabilistic formulas, one could easily get to the same answers in most cases.
In section 5 of his paper, Uriah Kriegel outlines a proposal for a different, non-consequentialist, ethical framework for animal rights. He starts by saying he admires the part of Kantian (deontological) moral philosophy known as the “humanity formula”: one should treat another’s humanity (or one’s own) as an end in itself, not as a means to an end. To extend this approach, he suggests substituting “conscious creatures” for “humanity”.
With some alterations (including what he calls a “virtue-ethical” twist), the formula becomes:
“One should have the stable, dominating disposition to treat conscious creatures as ends in themselves and not merely as means to other ends.”
The “stable, dominating disposition” phraseology allows us to avoid absolutism in the formula. Including “merely” allows for cases where an animal might be treated in some fashion as a means as well as an end in itself. Kriegel notes that much more could be said about all of the nuances here, but he moves on to give examples of how this kind of formula would result in different results compared to a consequentialist formula. Importantly, they differ on whether it is right to kill or exploit an animal if could be done painlessly. By assigning conscious animals intrinsic moral worth, one expands the animal rights case (for those animals considered conscious).
I liked this proposal very much, since I have long been attracted to the idea of assigning intrinsic moral status on the basis of consciousness (although I came to the idea from a different direction – see an old post on this here and other posts with the Morals tag). And while I certainly don’t read a lot of philosophical papers on this topic, I hadn’t seen this proposed before in the literature.
In the last section of the paper, Kriegel returns to the risk that we err in our empirical assessment of the presence of consciousness in various animals. Here he proposes that, given the uncertainty involved, we should assign probabilities to the presence of consciousness. Further we should use a function which maps this probability to an even more generous probability that a given animal should be afforded rights. While all of the numbers we might assign are going to be imprecise, by being cautious about what we know and building in a cushion in our formulas, we can reduce mistakes while pressing the circle of moral generosity outward.
My own view is that in our judgments we should explicitly consider that consciousness comes in degrees, rather than being an all-or-nothing phenomenon. But working with Kriegel’s probabilistic formulas, one could easily get to the same answers in most cases.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Kriegel’s “Animal Rights and Conscious Experience”
(Note: this is half of what will be a two-part post. UPDATE 20 July 2009: the second part is here)
Uriah Kriegel, assistant professor of philosophy at the University of Arizona, has posted this draft paper which seeks to advance the discussion on animal rights in light of progress in the study of consciousness. The most important part of the paper, in my view, is his formulation of how to explicitly make the (likely) presence of conscious experience the key component of a framework for assigning moral status to animals.
Before getting to his own proposal, Kriegel considers how the most influential consequentialist approach to animal rights (prominently associated with Peter Singer) suffers from a lack of an up-to-date analysis of the science of consciousness. This consequentialist framework, which emphasizes maximizing pleasure and minimizing pain, typically doesn’t incorporate a sophisticated understanding of exactly which animals might have conscious experience of pleasure and pain, as opposed to an unconscious functional analogue of these feelings. The former are presumably the intended recipient of moral consideration, not the latter.
Kriegel uses his own work on (human) consciousness to show how the view of animal rights would be influenced by a more detailed account of consciousness. Kriegel starts with his own proposal for locating the neural correlate of consciousness (NCC) in humans. This proposal, which he calls the cross-order integration hypothesis (COI), is detailed in a paper published in the journal Consciousness and Cognition. Then he argues that a comparison of brain structures between animals and humans should inform a view of whether animals share the NCC, and hence are conscious.
Without getting into all the details here, Kriegel’s COI theory implicates activity in cortical structures, presumed to be involved in higher order monitoring work, as a necessary part of the NCC. Because our mammal cousins share these structures while non-mammals lack it, this would provide evidence that the former are conscious, but the latter are not. In considering the consequentialist approach to animal rights sketched above this analysis would serve to help define the circle of moral consideration: in this case, mammals are on the inside, other animals are on the outside (“looking in”).
While Kriegel has some confidence in his approach, he clearly notes in the paper that his moral stance will be tempered by the uncertainty around the empirical conclusions underlying such a moral calculus (his preference is to couch any moral formulas incorporating the empirical claims in terms of probability). And I should stress that the general point on methodology has value even if one’s theory of the NCC differs: just plug in your own preferred NCC and try to judge how far it extends into the animal kingdom. For myself, while I like Kriegels’s “top-down” approach to the question of locating the NCC (i.e. beginning with a theory before you look at the experimental data – see an old post on Kriegel’s philosophy of mind here), I don’t have a high level of confidence in his (or any other) specific NCC proposal yet. The field is still in its early stages.
Still, even if one gains confidence in identifying the NCC in humans, there is a very big step to cross when considering the consciousness of animals, which Kriegel may underestimate. Because brains and bodies have demonstrated a robust ability to adaptively implement analogous functions using distinct structures, I would be very cautious in assuming that the work performed by our late (evolutionary) vintage neural structures couldn’t be implemented differently in animals. Even cephalopods, whose nervous systems have little in common with ours, show behaviors very suggestive of consciousness. Reinforcing this concern is my own philosophical bias to see consciousness as something which comes in degrees. An animal without a cortex could have an attenuated version of consciousness, as opposed to a lack of consciousness.
After the lengthy discussion of the how his kind of empirical analysis can help in evaluating the consequentialist ethical approach, Kriegel shifts gears and discusses a different non-consequentialist framework for the problem.
(To be continued.)
Uriah Kriegel, assistant professor of philosophy at the University of Arizona, has posted this draft paper which seeks to advance the discussion on animal rights in light of progress in the study of consciousness. The most important part of the paper, in my view, is his formulation of how to explicitly make the (likely) presence of conscious experience the key component of a framework for assigning moral status to animals.
Before getting to his own proposal, Kriegel considers how the most influential consequentialist approach to animal rights (prominently associated with Peter Singer) suffers from a lack of an up-to-date analysis of the science of consciousness. This consequentialist framework, which emphasizes maximizing pleasure and minimizing pain, typically doesn’t incorporate a sophisticated understanding of exactly which animals might have conscious experience of pleasure and pain, as opposed to an unconscious functional analogue of these feelings. The former are presumably the intended recipient of moral consideration, not the latter.
Kriegel uses his own work on (human) consciousness to show how the view of animal rights would be influenced by a more detailed account of consciousness. Kriegel starts with his own proposal for locating the neural correlate of consciousness (NCC) in humans. This proposal, which he calls the cross-order integration hypothesis (COI), is detailed in a paper published in the journal Consciousness and Cognition. Then he argues that a comparison of brain structures between animals and humans should inform a view of whether animals share the NCC, and hence are conscious.
Without getting into all the details here, Kriegel’s COI theory implicates activity in cortical structures, presumed to be involved in higher order monitoring work, as a necessary part of the NCC. Because our mammal cousins share these structures while non-mammals lack it, this would provide evidence that the former are conscious, but the latter are not. In considering the consequentialist approach to animal rights sketched above this analysis would serve to help define the circle of moral consideration: in this case, mammals are on the inside, other animals are on the outside (“looking in”).
While Kriegel has some confidence in his approach, he clearly notes in the paper that his moral stance will be tempered by the uncertainty around the empirical conclusions underlying such a moral calculus (his preference is to couch any moral formulas incorporating the empirical claims in terms of probability). And I should stress that the general point on methodology has value even if one’s theory of the NCC differs: just plug in your own preferred NCC and try to judge how far it extends into the animal kingdom. For myself, while I like Kriegels’s “top-down” approach to the question of locating the NCC (i.e. beginning with a theory before you look at the experimental data – see an old post on Kriegel’s philosophy of mind here), I don’t have a high level of confidence in his (or any other) specific NCC proposal yet. The field is still in its early stages.
Still, even if one gains confidence in identifying the NCC in humans, there is a very big step to cross when considering the consciousness of animals, which Kriegel may underestimate. Because brains and bodies have demonstrated a robust ability to adaptively implement analogous functions using distinct structures, I would be very cautious in assuming that the work performed by our late (evolutionary) vintage neural structures couldn’t be implemented differently in animals. Even cephalopods, whose nervous systems have little in common with ours, show behaviors very suggestive of consciousness. Reinforcing this concern is my own philosophical bias to see consciousness as something which comes in degrees. An animal without a cortex could have an attenuated version of consciousness, as opposed to a lack of consciousness.
After the lengthy discussion of the how his kind of empirical analysis can help in evaluating the consequentialist ethical approach, Kriegel shifts gears and discusses a different non-consequentialist framework for the problem.
(To be continued.)
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Contemplating the Deeply Strange
I watched this bloggingheads.tv dialogue between Robert Wright, whose latest book (The Evolution of God) I reviewed in the prior post, and Tyler Cowen, economics professor and prolific blogger at Marginal Revolution. They discussed Wright’s book but also expanded somewhat on each of their own views. One thing both men have in common is that they are non-believers, but take the challenge of responding to religious impulses seriously. I wanted to highlight here a good point made by Cowen. (The relevant parts of the dialogue span a couple of minutes beginning at 38 minutes in, then a few more starting at the 47 minute mark.)
Paraphrasing, Cowen says most non-believers should think more about religion and should specifically take the design/fine-tuning argument seriously: contemplation of this often leads to the concept of a complicated multiverse. He says we need to consider that our common-sense view of the world is wrong, and that there is room for a “deep strangeness” in reality. He mentions quantum mechanics and says one has to come to terms with a reality that seems absurd. He says his alternative to believing in God turns out to be believing something strange as well.
I would add that the multiverse concept in particular, is not only strange, but, if embraced, commits one to acknowledge something transcendent (a reality far beyond our observable universe). Investigations of our world have led to several ways to motivate the multiverse: in addition to the fine-tuning argument and the interpretation of QM, there are extensions of specific cosmological theories (eternal inflation, the string theory “landscape”), and there is the modal realism of philosophers. If a non-believer is motivated to explore deeper explanations of reality, he or she will almost surely end up somewhere well beyond a common-sense starting point.
Once you rule out the supernatural entities and interventions of traditional theism, there’s still a lot of hard work to do to explain what’s given to us: and the journey may lead to places one didn’t intend to go.
Paraphrasing, Cowen says most non-believers should think more about religion and should specifically take the design/fine-tuning argument seriously: contemplation of this often leads to the concept of a complicated multiverse. He says we need to consider that our common-sense view of the world is wrong, and that there is room for a “deep strangeness” in reality. He mentions quantum mechanics and says one has to come to terms with a reality that seems absurd. He says his alternative to believing in God turns out to be believing something strange as well.
I would add that the multiverse concept in particular, is not only strange, but, if embraced, commits one to acknowledge something transcendent (a reality far beyond our observable universe). Investigations of our world have led to several ways to motivate the multiverse: in addition to the fine-tuning argument and the interpretation of QM, there are extensions of specific cosmological theories (eternal inflation, the string theory “landscape”), and there is the modal realism of philosophers. If a non-believer is motivated to explore deeper explanations of reality, he or she will almost surely end up somewhere well beyond a common-sense starting point.
Once you rule out the supernatural entities and interventions of traditional theism, there’s still a lot of hard work to do to explain what’s given to us: and the journey may lead to places one didn’t intend to go.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
The Evolution of God, by Robert Wright
Robert Wright is an intellectually curious journalist and a fine writer whose previous books I enjoyed (these days he is also editor-in-chief of bloggingheads.tv). In 1994’s The Moral Animal, he summarized and popularized ideas from the burgeoning field of evolutionary psychology. In 2001’s Nonzero: the Logic of Human Destiny, he examined how game theory helps make sense of the development of human nature and human societies. In addition to presenting a digest of interesting research in these books, he laid out his own prism for viewing these topics: while our values can be explained entirely as natural phenomena, there is evidence of historical progress in the moral dimension of human affairs which seems to possibly point to something more transcendent. Wright’s new book, The Evolution of God, fits right into this theme: he explores the character of religion through history, and, by marshalling summaries of scholarly work, shows how religious ideas developed in response to changing social and political circumstances. The explanations make no appeal to the supernatural. But, as in his other books, Wright sees progress (however haphazard and intermittent) in the moral dimension of religion through time, which leads him to speculate that this phenomenon actually points to the existence of something worthy of being named divine.
The bulk of the book is an interesting run through research findings from anthropology, archaeology and textual analysis on the topic of historical religious ideas and practices. The tour begins with a look at hunter-gatherer style animism and the role of gods and religion in tribal cultures. Religious ideas in these milieus are seen to fit into and lubricate social organization. Then Wright examines the development of the various pantheons of gods in civilizations beginning with Mesopotamia and Egypt: the theme is how religion changed hand in hand with conquests, trade, and internal politics. In all cases there seems to be a plausible explanation of religious ideas (and the lineup of gods acknowledged) changing in concert with the “facts on the ground”.
This sets things up for the larger sections on the Abrahamic traditions. Wright, drawing on scholarly research, looks at the development of the religion of Israel from polytheistic roots, to monolatry (veneration of only one god), to the beginnings of true monotheism. The relationship of the tribe/nation of Israel to its neighbors through episodes of conquest, defeat, vassalship, and exile is seen as the prime driver of these developments. Christianity gets its turn in the barrel, as Wright sets out to show that its incorporation of the ideals of love and ethnic fellowship (and their backward projection onto the figure of Jesus) are best seen as an outgrowth of the mission to the gentiles in the context of a multi-cultural Roman empire. The expression of ideas in the Koran (including the fluctuations from tolerance to intolerance regarding infidels) is likewise tracked to the stages in the earthly career of Muhammad and his followers. (Eastern religions are left mostly undiscussed, but it is a long book as it is*).
The general theme is reinforced throughout: changes in religious ideas track earthly events. As nations make war, their gods intone contempt for non-believers. As empires digest conquests, they co-opt the gods of their new subjects. More positively, as societies enter into non-zero sum relationships with a wider circle of neighbors, their gods become more universal and more supportive of a broader moral vision.
I enjoyed these parts of the book and raced through 400 pages quickly. I found most of conclusions very plausible. I predict that one group of people who will have some problems with this material are the actual scholars who work in these fields: to them Wright’s account will surely seem superficial and far too quick to seize on conclusions which are the subject of significant debate and controversy. I think The Moral Animal could be criticized for confidently presenting plausible-sounding conclusions from evolutionary psychology that look shakier today. In any case, however, Wright has his eyes on the big picture, and the thrust of the ideas here was persuasive to me even if some of the details are in error.
In the last fifty pages of the book Wright presents his own thoughts on what it all means (some of these have of course been broached in previous chapters). Here the terrain became more difficult and I found some of his discussion to be repetitive. But watching him grapple with the ideas was nonetheless thought-provoking. First off (repeating the theme from Nonzero), Wright argues that with the passage of time, humans have expanded their circle of moral consideration, and that this constitutes an arrow of moral progress through history. I think he is on firm ground here: as we include more and more people (first extended family, then tribe, then nation, then international trading partners) in our field of empathy, we can see this properly as progress. However, I think it’s difficult to tie this to the main topic of the book: can we point to the evolution of our ideas regarding gods or God (more loving, less vengeful), and say that this adds anything to the story of moral progress? He does show that religion mirrors the state of play in the moral calculations of nations and peoples. But his analysis doesn’t provide evidence that religion drives moral progress – it seems to mainly reflect it.
In the final section (the Afterword), Wright proposes that the existence of an historical arrow of moral progress might be evidence for an objective moral order which transcends nature. He argues that even if the traditional idea of a personal God seems highly implausible given naturalism, it might nonetheless point (however imperfectly) towards truth. Maybe there is some kind of Logos of divine origin present in the temporal unfolding of human events. He draws an analogy between a traditional religion’s imperfect conception of God and a physicist’s imperfect conception of an electron (it’s not like a particle or a wave or anything else we can picture, yet we know it’s there from its manifestations).
Wright doesn’t commit to a conclusion that God exists, but he clearly wants to embrace the idea that our moral progress points to something transcendent. His arguments for this position aren’t strong, however, consisting as they do of analogies and a repeated appeal that something special must be going on to account for the moral axis of human affairs. I don’t think many traditional materialist-atheists will be convinced.
This is unfortunate because I think his intuition is sound. I think that any naturalist worldview needs to be expansive enough to account for first person experience and the meaning and values which arise from our engagement with the world. A purely third-person materialist description is incomplete. What’s missing from Wright’s argument (and it would take another book, of course) is a convincing metaphysical story of how this all fits together. Specifically, we need to account for how these first-person truths are rooted in the fundamental (pre-biological) fabric of nature -- a main goal of this blog. If we can do this, then we’ll build a foundation for Wright’s further story of how biological natural selection and cultural dynamics have shaped humanity.
Still, I admire Wright’s contribution in these books. And in particular I find his vision of moral progress to be inspiring. As he says, the forces of interconnectedness and globalization in today’s world offer the possibility that we can expand our circle of moral concern to finally cover the planet. As I’ve drafted this review over the past week, millions of people from all corners of the world have been morally identifying with protestors in Iran via the internet. A vision of progress toward a world of peace is right there before us.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
* I should also mention that there is a good appendix which examines the roots of our religious impulses in evolutionary prehistory. He doubts we’ll find a “god gene” but discusses how different aspects of human and primate nature set the stage for religious impulses.
The bulk of the book is an interesting run through research findings from anthropology, archaeology and textual analysis on the topic of historical religious ideas and practices. The tour begins with a look at hunter-gatherer style animism and the role of gods and religion in tribal cultures. Religious ideas in these milieus are seen to fit into and lubricate social organization. Then Wright examines the development of the various pantheons of gods in civilizations beginning with Mesopotamia and Egypt: the theme is how religion changed hand in hand with conquests, trade, and internal politics. In all cases there seems to be a plausible explanation of religious ideas (and the lineup of gods acknowledged) changing in concert with the “facts on the ground”.
This sets things up for the larger sections on the Abrahamic traditions. Wright, drawing on scholarly research, looks at the development of the religion of Israel from polytheistic roots, to monolatry (veneration of only one god), to the beginnings of true monotheism. The relationship of the tribe/nation of Israel to its neighbors through episodes of conquest, defeat, vassalship, and exile is seen as the prime driver of these developments. Christianity gets its turn in the barrel, as Wright sets out to show that its incorporation of the ideals of love and ethnic fellowship (and their backward projection onto the figure of Jesus) are best seen as an outgrowth of the mission to the gentiles in the context of a multi-cultural Roman empire. The expression of ideas in the Koran (including the fluctuations from tolerance to intolerance regarding infidels) is likewise tracked to the stages in the earthly career of Muhammad and his followers. (Eastern religions are left mostly undiscussed, but it is a long book as it is*).
The general theme is reinforced throughout: changes in religious ideas track earthly events. As nations make war, their gods intone contempt for non-believers. As empires digest conquests, they co-opt the gods of their new subjects. More positively, as societies enter into non-zero sum relationships with a wider circle of neighbors, their gods become more universal and more supportive of a broader moral vision.
I enjoyed these parts of the book and raced through 400 pages quickly. I found most of conclusions very plausible. I predict that one group of people who will have some problems with this material are the actual scholars who work in these fields: to them Wright’s account will surely seem superficial and far too quick to seize on conclusions which are the subject of significant debate and controversy. I think The Moral Animal could be criticized for confidently presenting plausible-sounding conclusions from evolutionary psychology that look shakier today. In any case, however, Wright has his eyes on the big picture, and the thrust of the ideas here was persuasive to me even if some of the details are in error.
In the last fifty pages of the book Wright presents his own thoughts on what it all means (some of these have of course been broached in previous chapters). Here the terrain became more difficult and I found some of his discussion to be repetitive. But watching him grapple with the ideas was nonetheless thought-provoking. First off (repeating the theme from Nonzero), Wright argues that with the passage of time, humans have expanded their circle of moral consideration, and that this constitutes an arrow of moral progress through history. I think he is on firm ground here: as we include more and more people (first extended family, then tribe, then nation, then international trading partners) in our field of empathy, we can see this properly as progress. However, I think it’s difficult to tie this to the main topic of the book: can we point to the evolution of our ideas regarding gods or God (more loving, less vengeful), and say that this adds anything to the story of moral progress? He does show that religion mirrors the state of play in the moral calculations of nations and peoples. But his analysis doesn’t provide evidence that religion drives moral progress – it seems to mainly reflect it.
In the final section (the Afterword), Wright proposes that the existence of an historical arrow of moral progress might be evidence for an objective moral order which transcends nature. He argues that even if the traditional idea of a personal God seems highly implausible given naturalism, it might nonetheless point (however imperfectly) towards truth. Maybe there is some kind of Logos of divine origin present in the temporal unfolding of human events. He draws an analogy between a traditional religion’s imperfect conception of God and a physicist’s imperfect conception of an electron (it’s not like a particle or a wave or anything else we can picture, yet we know it’s there from its manifestations).
Wright doesn’t commit to a conclusion that God exists, but he clearly wants to embrace the idea that our moral progress points to something transcendent. His arguments for this position aren’t strong, however, consisting as they do of analogies and a repeated appeal that something special must be going on to account for the moral axis of human affairs. I don’t think many traditional materialist-atheists will be convinced.
This is unfortunate because I think his intuition is sound. I think that any naturalist worldview needs to be expansive enough to account for first person experience and the meaning and values which arise from our engagement with the world. A purely third-person materialist description is incomplete. What’s missing from Wright’s argument (and it would take another book, of course) is a convincing metaphysical story of how this all fits together. Specifically, we need to account for how these first-person truths are rooted in the fundamental (pre-biological) fabric of nature -- a main goal of this blog. If we can do this, then we’ll build a foundation for Wright’s further story of how biological natural selection and cultural dynamics have shaped humanity.
Still, I admire Wright’s contribution in these books. And in particular I find his vision of moral progress to be inspiring. As he says, the forces of interconnectedness and globalization in today’s world offer the possibility that we can expand our circle of moral concern to finally cover the planet. As I’ve drafted this review over the past week, millions of people from all corners of the world have been morally identifying with protestors in Iran via the internet. A vision of progress toward a world of peace is right there before us.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
* I should also mention that there is a good appendix which examines the roots of our religious impulses in evolutionary prehistory. He doubts we’ll find a “god gene” but discusses how different aspects of human and primate nature set the stage for religious impulses.
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
Physics Links and Notes
Here are three interesting things I read recently.
1. Lee Smolin has an article titled “The unique universe” in physicsworld (hat tip: Not Even Wrong). It covers some of the same ground as the video I had earlier posted here. In it he argues against some ideas which have been recently popular among physicists when considering the shape of the next fundamental theory of cosmology. First, many now argue that our universe is just one of a vast or infinite number of others: the multiverse. Also, it is argued that the fundamental theory will be timeless, since they see our experience of the flow of time as an emergent local phenomenon. This leaves us with a vision of a timeless and static multiverse.
Smolin says advocates of this vision are led by mistaken reasoning. One problem arises when physicists take the essentially Newtonian schema we use to evaluate systems within the universe (deterministic laws + initial conditions) and try to apply it to the entire cosmos. This leads them to try to describe a process for selecting our universe from a landscape of many universes (anthropically or otherwise). Smolin argues that we would do better to explore theories which take time to be fundamental, and where laws can vary in a process of cosmic evolution.
2. Many people are optimistic that an information-theoretic perspective will lead to new insights in exploring the foundations of quantum mechanics, and this multi-authored paper, called “A new physical principle: Information Causality”, is an interesting effort in this regard. Information causality is, according to the authors, a principle which helps pick out QM from a space of possible theories which, like QM, feature entangled correlations but allow no faster than light signaling. While the principle seems simple when stated (“communication of m classical bits causes information gain of at most m bits”), the fact that other (hypothetical) theories which feature strong correlations don’t meet it is notable. Hat tip goes to this post by the Quantum Pontiff which has some helpful discussion.
3. I had come across the essay “Free will, undecidability, and the problem of time in quantum gravity” by Rodolfo Gambini, which was submitted to the FQXi contest (see here), but I didn’t immediately catch on to his arguments. But now having reviewed two papers on Arxiv by Gambini and colleagues (here and here) I have a better idea what his program is. The key starting point is this: the mathematics of quantum mechanics treat time as an external infinitely divisible classical variable; Gambini et.al. think that fundamental limitations on the practical measurement of time within the physical world have implications for how we should interpret the problem of quantum measurement. For instance, if we look at decoherence theory, we see that a quantum superposition involving a system, a measuring device and the environment can evolve such that the degrees of freedom responsible for interference are dispersed. But decoherence itself says nothing about a measurement taking place -- the system is still evolving unitarily. Gambini et.al. argue that a point comes where no possible mechanism is available to tell whether or not a measurement outcome (or event) has or has not taken place. They think this undecidability threshold can be seen as the marker for when an event has occurred. (Then, in the essay, Gambini waxes philosophical and speculates that this undecidability between evolution and collapse might create space for free will.) A thread about this in physicsforums is here.
I liked reading Gambini’s papers, but I think the calculations regarding the undecidability point are controversial, given that a full explanation would require a theory of quantum gravity. And if my preferred approach to QG is right -- where time is a fundamental aspect of a pre-gravity microscopic quantum theory, and the particles and space-time geometry of current theories are emergent regularities -- then I suspect that the constraints on describing a physical clock would not arise in the same way as it does here.
1. Lee Smolin has an article titled “The unique universe” in physicsworld (hat tip: Not Even Wrong). It covers some of the same ground as the video I had earlier posted here. In it he argues against some ideas which have been recently popular among physicists when considering the shape of the next fundamental theory of cosmology. First, many now argue that our universe is just one of a vast or infinite number of others: the multiverse. Also, it is argued that the fundamental theory will be timeless, since they see our experience of the flow of time as an emergent local phenomenon. This leaves us with a vision of a timeless and static multiverse.
Smolin says advocates of this vision are led by mistaken reasoning. One problem arises when physicists take the essentially Newtonian schema we use to evaluate systems within the universe (deterministic laws + initial conditions) and try to apply it to the entire cosmos. This leads them to try to describe a process for selecting our universe from a landscape of many universes (anthropically or otherwise). Smolin argues that we would do better to explore theories which take time to be fundamental, and where laws can vary in a process of cosmic evolution.
2. Many people are optimistic that an information-theoretic perspective will lead to new insights in exploring the foundations of quantum mechanics, and this multi-authored paper, called “A new physical principle: Information Causality”, is an interesting effort in this regard. Information causality is, according to the authors, a principle which helps pick out QM from a space of possible theories which, like QM, feature entangled correlations but allow no faster than light signaling. While the principle seems simple when stated (“communication of m classical bits causes information gain of at most m bits”), the fact that other (hypothetical) theories which feature strong correlations don’t meet it is notable. Hat tip goes to this post by the Quantum Pontiff which has some helpful discussion.
3. I had come across the essay “Free will, undecidability, and the problem of time in quantum gravity” by Rodolfo Gambini, which was submitted to the FQXi contest (see here), but I didn’t immediately catch on to his arguments. But now having reviewed two papers on Arxiv by Gambini and colleagues (here and here) I have a better idea what his program is. The key starting point is this: the mathematics of quantum mechanics treat time as an external infinitely divisible classical variable; Gambini et.al. think that fundamental limitations on the practical measurement of time within the physical world have implications for how we should interpret the problem of quantum measurement. For instance, if we look at decoherence theory, we see that a quantum superposition involving a system, a measuring device and the environment can evolve such that the degrees of freedom responsible for interference are dispersed. But decoherence itself says nothing about a measurement taking place -- the system is still evolving unitarily. Gambini et.al. argue that a point comes where no possible mechanism is available to tell whether or not a measurement outcome (or event) has or has not taken place. They think this undecidability threshold can be seen as the marker for when an event has occurred. (Then, in the essay, Gambini waxes philosophical and speculates that this undecidability between evolution and collapse might create space for free will.) A thread about this in physicsforums is here.
I liked reading Gambini’s papers, but I think the calculations regarding the undecidability point are controversial, given that a full explanation would require a theory of quantum gravity. And if my preferred approach to QG is right -- where time is a fundamental aspect of a pre-gravity microscopic quantum theory, and the particles and space-time geometry of current theories are emergent regularities -- then I suspect that the constraints on describing a physical clock would not arise in the same way as it does here.
Monday, June 01, 2009
5th Blogiversary Post
Thank you to everyone who has visited. I’m extremely grateful to those who have commented: the discussions that have taken place have been very valuable.
(Brief retrospective meta-blogging follows.)
Actually, I “cheated” at the beginning. The first ten posts from June 2004 were drawn from an essay I had previously written and distributed to some friends and family members, which I called (tongue-in-cheek) “Steve’s Guide to Reality”. After a little while, though, the blog started to show some life, becoming more interactive (thanks to Justin and Peter for early comments). While the equilibrium frequency of posting turned out to be pretty low, it has held fairly steady.
I’m happy with the results. In addition to the comment and e-mail dialogues the blog has engendered, it has helped organize and record my thoughts much more effectively than the previous battered-notebook approach. Also, blogging has obviously facilitated taking advantage of the explosion of resources available to read and link to on the internet. I’m indebted to all the scholars, students and fellow laypeople who blog or otherwise post their work online.
Blogging is, then, a valuable tool which is helping me toward a goal: the development of a metaphysical worldview. This has been my number one “hobby” since I was a teenager, and I think I’ve made more progress in these last five years then ever before.
Thanks again.
(Brief retrospective meta-blogging follows.)
Actually, I “cheated” at the beginning. The first ten posts from June 2004 were drawn from an essay I had previously written and distributed to some friends and family members, which I called (tongue-in-cheek) “Steve’s Guide to Reality”. After a little while, though, the blog started to show some life, becoming more interactive (thanks to Justin and Peter for early comments). While the equilibrium frequency of posting turned out to be pretty low, it has held fairly steady.
I’m happy with the results. In addition to the comment and e-mail dialogues the blog has engendered, it has helped organize and record my thoughts much more effectively than the previous battered-notebook approach. Also, blogging has obviously facilitated taking advantage of the explosion of resources available to read and link to on the internet. I’m indebted to all the scholars, students and fellow laypeople who blog or otherwise post their work online.
Blogging is, then, a valuable tool which is helping me toward a goal: the development of a metaphysical worldview. This has been my number one “hobby” since I was a teenager, and I think I’ve made more progress in these last five years then ever before.
Thanks again.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
The Free Will of Fruit Flies
I liked this short essay in Nature by Martin Heisenberg on free will (HT). Heisenberg is a neurobiologist (and the son of Werner), and his perspective is shaped by the work he’s done on more primitive organisms – in the essay he talks about bacteria and also the fruit flies (the famous drosophilia) which have been the subject of his own work. In short, the combination of microscopic randomness (ultimately sourced from the quantum realm) and an adaptive self-directedness (primitive intentionality -- see also here) comprise freedom.
In the human case, the discussion is obscured by the focus on the will found via introspective self-consciousness and its relation to our actions. But introspection is an extreme latecomer in evolution. Heisenberg suggests we have a kind of real freedom, shared with many other organisms, irrespective of whether our introspective picture is accurate or flawed. He says: “I maintain that we need not be conscious of our decision-making to be free. What matters is that our actions are self-generated…Why should an action become free from one moment to the next simply because we reflect upon it?”
In the human case, the discussion is obscured by the focus on the will found via introspective self-consciousness and its relation to our actions. But introspection is an extreme latecomer in evolution. Heisenberg suggests we have a kind of real freedom, shared with many other organisms, irrespective of whether our introspective picture is accurate or flawed. He says: “I maintain that we need not be conscious of our decision-making to be free. What matters is that our actions are self-generated…Why should an action become free from one moment to the next simply because we reflect upon it?”
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
John P. Meier: A Marginal Jew Volume 4
While it's off the main topic of the blog, I've long been interested in research into the history of early Christianity, and have a few posts in the archives on books and articles I've read. I have a series of posts about the first three volumes of A Marginal Jew -- John P. Meier's opus on the historical Jesus (here, here, and here). Now the fourth volume is out, and I'm unlikely to get to it for some time. It happens there is a great summary and review at Loren Rossen's blog, the busybody; so I will happily outsource the work this time.
On a related topic, April DeConick has an interesting series of posts on the beginnings of Christianity going at her blog (first post in series here). I had a post reviewing her book on the Gospel of Judas here.
On a related topic, April DeConick has an interesting series of posts on the beginnings of Christianity going at her blog (first post in series here). I had a post reviewing her book on the Gospel of Judas here.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Fine Idea on the Measurement Problem
Following up on the topic of the last post, I found this paper by Arthur Fine, called “Measurement and Quantum Silence”. I found it to be a clearly written summary of Fine’s approach to the quantum measurement problem (which was I was introduced to by the work of Mauricio Suárez.)
The term “quantum silence” refers to the Copenhagen interpretation-motivated suggestion that we just shouldn’t ask about the reality of the quantum system in superposition: there is no need “to talk about the value of an observable unless the state of the system is an eigenstate, or a mixture of eigenstates, of the observable in question.” We prepare a quantum system and calculate that its pure state evolves according to the Schrödinger equation. The problem is that when we measure the system it behaves “as if” what was evolving was only a mixture of the eigenstates of the particular observable we’re measuring. Fine introduces an interesting perspective on this, which is that the measurement process involves an information loss. It certainly seems that the rest of the information contained in the evolving pure state vanishes or becomes irrelevant when a measurement takes place.
Fine reviews other proposals (hidden variable and GRW-type collapse theories) and assesses how they deal with this loss of information, and he finds that while they try to replace the “brute” measurement process with a physical process meant to be more explicable, they don’t really explain the loss of information. And perhaps this can’t be done.
So, Fine makes his own proposal, which I described in the last post (although in this particular paper Fine doesn’t label the idea as “selective interactions”). Since the system behaves “as if” it was an evolving mixture rather than a pure state, why not assumes that it actually what happens. Rather than look to explain the loss of information which takes place in a measurement “farther down the line”, he proposes that the preparation actually replaces the full state with the mixture in advance.
Here’s how he motivates the idea: “There is a physical rationale for this procedure. It is that in making a measurement we do not interact with all the variables of the measured object. We only observe the particular aspect of the object that corresponds to the variable being measured….” The information that is lost pertains to aspects of the object to which the measuring device does not respond. The “aspects” here are what Suarez adopts as “propensities” in his work.
So, what to think? Well, in a nice aside in this paper, Fine credits philosopher of science Heinz Post* for suggesting a “conservation law” for problems in quantum theory: if you resolve one aspect of quantum strangeness, this tends to just shift it elsewhere. In Fine’s case, he addresses the puzzle of the measurement process with an account which says that the way we prepare a system alters the system from a pure state to a mixture prior to evolution. It’s an interesting idea and the pursuit of it offers additional illumination of the landscape of quantum mechanics. But in my case I’m happy to have collapse as an additional natural process which describes physical interactions between systems – I don’t feel a need to shift the strangeness in the way Fine suggests. And I don't think interpreting quantum systems as bearers of propensities turns on whether you adopt Fine's proposal.
*I would provide a link for mentioning Heinz Post, but very little comes up in an internet search. He was a professor at Chelsea College (which later merged into King's College, London). You get the impression he was an influential colleage and mentor, but published hardly at all.
The term “quantum silence” refers to the Copenhagen interpretation-motivated suggestion that we just shouldn’t ask about the reality of the quantum system in superposition: there is no need “to talk about the value of an observable unless the state of the system is an eigenstate, or a mixture of eigenstates, of the observable in question.” We prepare a quantum system and calculate that its pure state evolves according to the Schrödinger equation. The problem is that when we measure the system it behaves “as if” what was evolving was only a mixture of the eigenstates of the particular observable we’re measuring. Fine introduces an interesting perspective on this, which is that the measurement process involves an information loss. It certainly seems that the rest of the information contained in the evolving pure state vanishes or becomes irrelevant when a measurement takes place.
Fine reviews other proposals (hidden variable and GRW-type collapse theories) and assesses how they deal with this loss of information, and he finds that while they try to replace the “brute” measurement process with a physical process meant to be more explicable, they don’t really explain the loss of information. And perhaps this can’t be done.
So, Fine makes his own proposal, which I described in the last post (although in this particular paper Fine doesn’t label the idea as “selective interactions”). Since the system behaves “as if” it was an evolving mixture rather than a pure state, why not assumes that it actually what happens. Rather than look to explain the loss of information which takes place in a measurement “farther down the line”, he proposes that the preparation actually replaces the full state with the mixture in advance.
Here’s how he motivates the idea: “There is a physical rationale for this procedure. It is that in making a measurement we do not interact with all the variables of the measured object. We only observe the particular aspect of the object that corresponds to the variable being measured….” The information that is lost pertains to aspects of the object to which the measuring device does not respond. The “aspects” here are what Suarez adopts as “propensities” in his work.
So, what to think? Well, in a nice aside in this paper, Fine credits philosopher of science Heinz Post* for suggesting a “conservation law” for problems in quantum theory: if you resolve one aspect of quantum strangeness, this tends to just shift it elsewhere. In Fine’s case, he addresses the puzzle of the measurement process with an account which says that the way we prepare a system alters the system from a pure state to a mixture prior to evolution. It’s an interesting idea and the pursuit of it offers additional illumination of the landscape of quantum mechanics. But in my case I’m happy to have collapse as an additional natural process which describes physical interactions between systems – I don’t feel a need to shift the strangeness in the way Fine suggests. And I don't think interpreting quantum systems as bearers of propensities turns on whether you adopt Fine's proposal.
*I would provide a link for mentioning Heinz Post, but very little comes up in an internet search. He was a professor at Chelsea College (which later merged into King's College, London). You get the impression he was an influential colleage and mentor, but published hardly at all.
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