Skepticism

Descartes is not a skeptic, though in the Meditations he gives a very vivid presentation of the skeptical argument. Descartes thinks he can defeat the skeptical argument, but many have found his reply to skepticism less than convincing.

What the skeptic attempts to do is show that we do not know many things we might think we know; in particular, we know almost nothing about the external world. The skeptic does this by pointing to the possibility of a scenario in which everything seems just the same as it does to me now, but which is incompatible with knowledge. We considered a few such scenarios: that I am dreaming, that I am deceived by an evil demon, that I am a bodiless brain-in-a-vat being subject to experiments.

So, the skeptic points out that:

(A)  If I know I have hands, then I cannot be merely dreaming that I have hands.

This is logically equivalent to what Descartes suggests:

(B)  If I am dreaming that I have hands, then I do not know that I have hands.

The scenario is supposed to be such that, if it did obtain, my experiences would be completely indistinguishable from what they are now. I cannot tell “from the inside” whether or not the scenario obtains.

“But now I am looking at this piece of paper with my eyes wide open; the head that I am shaking has not been lulled to sleep; I put my hand out consciously and deliberately; I feel the paper and see it. None of this would be as distinct if I were asleep. As if I can’t remember have been deluded by similar thoughts while asleep! When I think very carefully about this, I see so plainly that there are no reliable signs by which I can distinguish sleeping from waking that I am stupefied—and my stupor itself suggests that I am asleep!” (117, 1^st column).

Hence

(C)  I do not know that I am not dreaming.

If you think there are ways to tell dreaming from waking, what about the evil demon scenario, or the brain-in-a-vat Matrix scenario?

The Dreaming Argument

From David and Jean Blumenfeld, "Can I Know That I Am Not Dreaming?”

1. Sometimes in dreams, I have experiences that are so vivid, so real, that I am unable to distinguish them from waking.

2. So nothing about the qualitative character of my experiences — not the vivacity of the colors I seem to see, nor the pains I feel, nor the coherence from one experience to the next — guarantees that I am not now dreaming.

3. If nothing about my experiences guarantees that I am not now dreaming, then I cannot know that I’m not now dreaming.

4. Thus, I cannot know that I am not now dreaming (from 2, 3).

5. If I cannot know that I am not now dreaming, then I cannot know that I am not always dreaming.

6. Thus, I cannot know that I am not always dreaming (from 4, 5).

7. If I cannot know that I am not always dreaming, then I cannot know to be true any belief about the external world which is based on experience.

8. Thus, I cannot know to be true any belief about the external world which is based on experience (from 6, 7).

Questions

Is the argument is valid—does the conclusion follows from the premises? Is it sound—are the premises true as well? (4) is just (C) from above. Let us for the moment grant that (4) is plausible. Does (6) follow from (4)?

What about premise (7)? Notice that (7) is stronger that (A). (1) says that if know I have hands, not only must it be true that I am not merely dreaming it, I must also know that I am not merely dreaming it. Why should we accept this?

Suppose one holds, as Descartes at times seems to, that knowledge requires absolute certainty. One thing this could mean is that knowledge requires evidence sufficient to rule out all alternatives. The possibility of dreaming (or an evil demon, or of being a brain-in-a-vat) is supposed to inject doubt into any belief we have about the external world because it is a possibility we cannot rule out. So: if knowing that I have hands requires being absolutely certain I have hands, then to know I would have to eliminate all doubts. To do that, I would have rule out the possibility that I am merely dreaming. This is very close to what (7) requires.

Anselm’s Ontological Argument

1. God is a being than which nothing greater can be thought; or God is maximally great.

   “We believe you to be something than which nothing greater can be conceived“ (p. 45, col. 1, last line).

2. The fool understands (1), so the fool conceives a maximally great being.

3. The fool conceives this maximally great being as existing only “in the understanding”. That is, the fool thinks the maximally great being is merely a figment of her imagination, and does not actually exist.

4. A maximally great being who actually exists is greater than a similar being who exists only in the mind.

   “If it were to exist just in the understanding, we could conceive it to exist in reality too, in which case it would be greater” (p. 45, col. 2, line 24).

5. When the fools conceives something (call it X) as existing only in the mind, she is cannot be conceiving a maximally great being, because by (4) it is possible to conceive something greater—an X which exists in reality, and not just in the mind.

   “Therefore, if that than which a greater cannot be conceived exists just in the understanding, the very thing than which a greater cannot be conceived is something than which a greater can be conceived” (p. 45, col. 2, line 26).

   “Hence, if that than which a greater can’t be conceived can be conceived not to exist, then that than which a greater can’t be conceived is not that than which a greater can’t be conceived. But this would be a contradiction” (p. 46, col. 1, line 8).

6. Hence (2) and (3) are contradictory.

7. But it is clear the fool understands (1), so (2) cannot be false.

8. So the odd one out is (3), so the fool must admit that such a maximally great being must exist in reality, and not just in the mind.

   “Without a doubt, then, something than which a greater can’t be conceived does exist—both in the understanding and in reality” (p. 46, col. 1, first line).

   “Therefore, he who understands God to be that than which a greater can’t be conceived cannot conceive of His not existing” (p. 46, col. 2, line 20).

Free Will and Compatibilism

A paradox is a set of statements each of which enjoys some plausibility yet which cannot all be true.

Determinism (D) Every future event is fixed by the laws of nature and the initial conditions of the universe. The laws and the initial conditions are compatible with only one future.

Free Will (F) We have free will, the freedom to “control our lives.”

Incompatibilism (I) If all of our behavior is completely dictated by the way the world was before our birth, then our behavior is beyond our control, and hence not free. We can see this by appealing to the following intuitive principle:

Principle of alternative possibilities: for me to A freely, it must be the case that I could have done otherwise.

If determinism is true, I cannot do other than I actually do, so none of my actions are free.

(D), (F), and (I) each enjoy some plausibility, yet they cannot all be true. We have a paradox.

The Compatibilist Resolution

Freedom is opposed to constraint or coercion, not to necessity. We are free insofar as we are not prevented by constraint or coercion from doing what we want.

“By liberty, then, we can only mean a power of acting or not acting, according to the determination of the will; that is, if we choose to remain at rest, we may; if we choose to move, we also may” (Hume, “Of Liberty and Necessity,” 432).

The Humean compatibilist rejects the principle of alternative possibilities, substituting (c), and (c) is compatible with determinism. It may be determined that Tana will want to A and that she will A; all that matters for her freedom is that had she (been determined to) wanted to B, she would have been able to.

You do A freely iff:

1. you A;
2. you wanted to A; and
3. had you wanted to B (or C, …) you would have B-ed (you could have done otherwise had you wanted to do otherwise).

There are counterexamples to this analysis that were mentioned in class (the unwilling addict, the mad scientist who controls your desires). But even setting these aside, many people initially find the compatibilist analysis unsatisfying. Surely, you say, there has to be more to freedom that this. It’s the compatibilist job to deflate such opposition to his analysis.

Deflating Objections

Morally appraisable action requires causation

You might be unsatisfied because you feel that even with compatibilist freedom, your body is still just a puppet at the end of a long causal chain.

Hume notes that for a bit of behavior to count as Tana’s action, it must be caused by her beliefs and desires. We depend on the fact that desires and beliefs lead to behavior.

• If her behavior is uncaused, then it is just some kind of freak occurrence.

• If the behavior is caused by something other than her beliefs and desires, then she is behaving irrationally (and is not subject to the usual moral evaluation). E.g., if Tana dances naked on the classroom table even though (i) she wants to stay in her seat; and (ii) does not believe that dancing naked will get her anything she does want, then Tana is crazy.

Thus the compatibilist claims the problem cannot be with the fact that our actions have causes.

Choosing our desires

You might still feel unsatisfied because it seems like on the compatibilist picture we are stuck with the beliefs and desires we have.

Is this really a problem? We make our choices in part by considering what we want. We do not think it an impingement on our freedom that we don’t also get to choose our desires. Does it even make sense for us to choose all of our desires?

Tana freely chooses her dessert. She opts for pecan pie over chocolate soufflé because she wants the pie more than the soufflé.

• She did not also have to decide between wanting pecan pie and wanting chocolate soufflé; she just had the stronger desire for pie. She’s just the kind of person who like pecan pie. What’s the problem?

• Suppose she could choose between wanting pie and wanting soufflé. On what basis would she choose?

  • She picks one of those desires at random.

  • She picks one of those desires because she wants it desire more. That would mean she picks wanting pie because she wants to want pie more than she wants to want soufflé.

  • Now we can raise the same question about her wanting to want pie. Does she just have that second-order desire, or did she choose it? Suppose she were to chose it. On what basis would she choose?

    • She picks wanting to want pie at random.

    • She picks on the basis of a third-order desire: she wants to want to want pie more than she wants to want to want soufflé.

I hope it’s clear that we are either off on an unsatisfiable regress, or that Tana picks her desires at random. Is this really what we think freedom requires? Does it require having wants about wants about wants…(ad infinitum)? Does it require Tana pick all of her desires at random? The compatibilist says no — any feeling of dissatisfaction with compatibilism on these grounds is unjustified.

Thomson’s Defense of Abortion

Traditionally the focus in the abortion debate is on whether the unborn fetus is a person. This focus is misguided, Thomson argues, because even if we grant that the fetus is a person, there are still cases where abortion is morally permissible.

Thomson grants, then, that the fetus has the right to life. She questions whether it follows that the fetus has the right to the mother’s body.

I am arguing only that having a right to life does no guarantee having either a right to be given the use of or a right to be allowed continued use of another person’s body—even if one needs it for life itself. (127)

The reasoning in the first two cases Thomson considers is straightforward.

• Self-defense. In cases where the pregnancy threatens the mothers life, we weigh the mother’s right to life against the fetus’s right to life. Both are innocent (neither has committed any wrong to bring the situation about). Thomson thinks it is clear the threatened person may act in her own self-defense.

• Rape. Thomson argues by analogy. Our reaction to the famous violinist case is that it is permissible for you to detach yourself from the violinist.

  …the fact that for continued life the violinist needs the continued use of your kidneys does not establish that he has a right to be given the continued use of your kidneys. He certainly has no right against you that you should give him continued use of your kidneys. (126)

  The analogy should be clear: you are like a pregnant mother, and the violinist like the fetus. Your kidnapping and unwilling attachment to the violinist is like a rape resulting in pregnancy. The conclusion, Thomson thinks, is analogous: the fetus’s right to life does not guarantee it the right to the use of mother’s body.

Consensual Sex

This secures the permissibility of abortion in only a narrow range of circumstances. What about pregnancy that results from consensual sex? It appears that Thomson believes the famous violinist analogy extends even to cases of pregnancy from consensual sex. Perhaps the easiest way to examine this issue is by considering reasons to think that a mother has special responsibility to a fetus if conceived by consensual sex (i.e. that the famous violinist case is not analogous to pregnancy due to consensual sex), and to see what Thomson’s replies might be.

Consent Objection

If a woman consents to becoming pregnant, she has special responsibility to the fetus. Thus a mother who became pregnant intentionally certainly may not abort it.

A woman who engages in sex (protected or unprotected) may not desire a pregnancy, but she nonetheless tacitly consents to it if it occurs. We can see this by appealing to the following principle:

Tacit consent principle

When you voluntarily do A, and know (or should know) that your doing A might result in state of affairs S, then if S does come about as the result of A, you have consented to S.

In our case, when a woman engages in consensual sex knowing that it might lead to pregnancy, if it does lead to pregnancy, she has consented to the pregnancy.

1. Does this objection work?
2. Is it true in general – can you think of counterexamples?
3. It seems pretty clear that at least sometimes it's morally permissible to withdraw consent after you've given it. It is morally permissible to do so in all cases? If not, what are the restrictions on withdrawing your consent?

Responsibility to the innocent

Maybe what the replies bring out is that consent is really not what’s at issue. We can incur responsibilities without consent.

Innocent bystander principle

When you voluntarily do A, and know (or should know) that your doing A might result in a plight for innocent person, then you are responsible for that plight if it comes about.

Most women realize that consensual sex may lead to the creation of a helpless innocent person, and they are thus responsible for the well-being of that person (at least while its helpless, but possibly longer).

1. Is it true that you always have a responsibility to innocent bystanders? Does it matter whether you acted negligently, or recklessly, or in some way wrongfully? If so, how does this bear on the mother's sexual behavior?