The things that we claim to “know” fall into two categories:
Things that we have witnessed directly, e.g. I know that the sun rises in the east, I know that airplanes can fly, and I know that 2+2=4.
Things that we know about indirectly, through other people, e.g. I know that Lincoln was assassinated, I know that subatomic particles exist, and I know that it’s cold in Antarctica.
Can we really claim to “know” things in this second category? At what point do we take other people’s word for things that we can’t directly know? And how do we know which “facts” to accept and which to reject?
I’ve always liked the idea that perhaps our knowledge of history is almost totally fabricated, that the world 100 years ago was VERY different than how we are taught and that everyone who lived during the transition from true history to our false history is helping to keep the secret. I don’t know why.
I doubt you can “know” anything. Perceptions falter, predictions fail. You can be pretty damn sure, but can you know? Like I say, I doubt it.
BTW, the only reason you know that 2+2=4 is by definition. The number four has no existence other than the sum of 2+2 (and the product of 2 and 2, and 2 squared, and 8 divided by 2, and various other definitions that arise from it.) It’s true by definition and deduction, not by induction, which is the case for all propositions of arithmetic.
The boundary between your categories seems pretty shaky. If you had been in the right place at the right time–i.e., Ford’s Theater, April 14, 1865–you could “know”, from direct personal witness, that Lincoln had been shot. It’s certainly not beyond the realm of possibility for you to go to Antarctica and confirm for yourself that it’s cold there.
I’ve seen pictures which were supposedly of atoms (I remember one where they had spelled out the letters IBM in letters about 5 atoms high). But maybe they were just pulling my leg. What about a simple optical microscope? Are the critters you see in pond water less real because you can’t ever see them with the naked eye? Do paramecia belong in a different epistemological category than squirrels? (Supposedly some people in Galileo’s day refused to look through his telescope because they thought it was an instrument of the Devil which would just produce optical illusions that would make them doubt God’s Word and so on.) I myself look at practically everything through two little pieces of plastic–is my world a little less real than that of someone with 20/20 vision? It’s easy to say something like a “quark” is just a “mathematical abstraction”, but where do you draw the line–quasars? germs? molecules? atoms?
Finally, one of your “category one” things–“the sun rises in the east”–is false. The Earth’s rotation on its axis causes the Sun to appear to “rise” from the point of view of an observer on the planet’s surface. But you knew that, of course.
I’ve got my own take on this, which may or may not coincide with some philosophers.
Things we know for sure: a priori knowledge. Math, logic, morality, for example. Deductive, inductive, and pure opinion
Things we’re pretty sure we know: things we’ve observed directly.
Thinks we think we know: what we hear from others.
Type 1 links the other two together, so there’s (to me) only two types of things we “know.”
We believe we know #2 above because we believe, were we to repeat the circumstances, the same outcome would occurr. We believe #3 because had we sufficient resources and time, we could observe things we’ve heard about from others.
Truly, #2 and #3 are the same, because they both involve us trusting sometihng besides the present and they both involve things external to the mind (assuming there are things external to the mind in the first place, something I’m not prepared to get into).
Anyway, my $.02 Fire at will.
You can’t be certain of the results of inductive logic for the following reason.
Everything has the possibility of having been affected by anything else that exists. Therefore, in order to know for certain everything that affects whatever you’re considering, you would have to know everything. This is impossible.
What you can do is investigate as much as possible relating to the object of your inquiry, make the best possible conclusion from this, and leave it open to doubt should new evidence come along. This is (tada!) the scientific method. It is not a method of producing certainties or facts, but such theories as are supported by all available facts.
While I agree with you, my “inductive” logic only applied to the logic itself, not to any conclusions based on evidence external to thought.
Whenever you apply a priori knowledge to external observations, this hybrid can be very powerful but ultimately must always be rechecked whenever new theories evolve, or observation is at odds with previous conclusions.
The most obvious result of a priori reasoning applied to external observation is “cause and effect.” Not likely to be false, but completely “unknowable” in the strictest sense.
The set of epistemologies is empty until we posulat eits first member. Obviously, what we take axiomatically to be the basis for our ability to distinguish truth will have signifianct effect on the “categories” of knowledge we can derive.
In the strictest sense, we can’t know nuthin’.
In the more useful sense, we can know a number of things with varying confidence, depending upon our initial epistemology.
Damn. Philosophy is such a great way to abuse brain cells.
BTW: We inductive logic is an excellent means of proof, providing you can fully induce the set. This makes it great for discrete mathematics, but less useful for proving that the Earth’s rotation will create the illusion of a sunrise tomorrow.
Never considered that the “epistemology set” could ever be null. It would seem that it has to contain something, though that something can, and very often is, replaced, added to, or subtracted from.
Were we to be “epistemologically” empty, we could not even consider epistemology itself. We’d be in a sort of philosophical coma.
Or rather, not really but you have fallen prey to an a priori postulation before you really got started.
Try thinking of it ths way: The set of epistemologies contains all means of evaluating, determining, expressing, or otherwise identifying “knowledge”. Now, how do we decide what is a member of the set? Why, we use an epistemology. But how can we decide what an epistemology is, much less which one to use, until we can identify the members of the set?
We can’t. First, we must postulate the first member. Saying “the set of epistemologies is empty” is another way of saying “membership in the set is interminable”. Russell might not have approved of the shorthand (though he might have, he wasn’t afraid of shaking up notation), but it seems to convey the concept.
In fact, though, we can tighten the proposition by stating that the set any set of valid (ie - internally consistent) epistemologies is empty, rigorously emtpy, until the first member is postulated. All this means, really, is that it is not possible to speak of a “natural” epistemology.
The beginning is always an axiom.
[sub]Hey, Stoidela, does this count as a metaphysical thread?[/sub]
Now, assumptions are just assumptions, neither good nor bad, known or unknown, until applied to some set of standards whereby we determine their validity in some way. Even then, we just find that they are valid with respect to that assumption that the standards are correct and so on…
Only when we go on to say that that assumption is true(accepted as a priori, perhaps?) do we find reality appear. As above. Until then, we have no epistemology, merely assumptions based on nothing at all.
I dunno…we probably have slightly different ideas about this. A priori is non-verifiable axioms, no? Are you suggestion that the basis of logic or math is not a priori? Please clarify. Or is a priori knowledge not a part of epistemology. That seems downright impossible.
Quite the opposite. In fact, the reduction must have an explicit terminus – the first (~valid) epistemological member.
Good and bad seem misplaced adjectives. Valid, perhaps, or true, but what we really mean (or should mean) is “representative of knowledge”. That is step one. Then we can evaluate the assumption for epistemological justification.
Not “and so on . . .”. This is the “tricky” part, and it lies with the nature of a priori. Let me set it a side for a second. [sub]is that cheering I hear from Matt?[/sub]
I think "find reality appear(s?) is a mistake in terminology. Only when we have a method for epistemological justification can we determine whether an element is epistemologically justifiable. Correct. That is the crux of the matter. As to a priori[sub]wait for it, Matt[/sub]
This is a fairly standard colloquial dfinition. Unfornutely, when you talk about epistemology you need to be a bit more careful. Concepts of a priori shade a bit depending upon the epistemology under which you are working. Here is a semi-coherent discussion of a priori concepts in classical and empiriacal philosophies. (Semi-coherent places it well above average among articles in philosophical journals, ;))
The key concepts, really, are that a priori concepts derive from internal reflection and that they are subject to a particular type of epistemological justification. that justification, naturally, will vary according to the philosophy (classical, empyrical, et al.) Of course, until you have an epistemology you cannot justify your a priori[sub]note: justify meaning validate/invalidate[/sub]. So you assume an epistemology – ah, but that’s an * priori* . . .
That spiral follows Zeno to oblivion.
You must have an epistemology before you can justify even an a priori (in other words: how do you know you can make an a priori statement.) But you cannot populate the set of epistemologies until it has a member. So, the first member must be axiomatic, but it is not, per se, a priori. It is not possible to subject this first member to epistemological justification – ever, because the population of this set of epistemologies is entirely and inescapably dependent upon the initial member. (Descartes famous tautology becomes cogito cogito ergo cogito.)
I wasn’t really addressing any epistemology in particular, but since you ask: it is a question of proximate vs ultimate. I am saying that the a priori axioms that underlie logic and math themselves are epistemologically justified by an earlier population of some set of epistemologies.
Indeed, you are correct. The question to ask yourself, though, is how do we decide whether a priori knowledge belongs in the set of epistemologies?
[sub]Okay, Matt – it’s safe to come out now.[/sub]
Spirtus Mundane! A*nRandLover! You are already into epistemology and veering dangerously close to phenomenology! That way lies madness! It is the realm of Paranoid German Bachelor Philosophers! Danger, Will Robinson, danger!
Sure, it starts out innocently enough, an a priori here and there, next thing you know, you’re reading Hegel and Kant and nodding your head sagely as though it made sense!
Flee while you still can! Mark Twain, Dave Barry, break out the bong and a six pack and catch the game! Consult yer local hippie, we have emergency procedures available for just such contingencies!
I have no fear for yer souls, but yer minds are in imminent peril!
Phenomenology more dangerous than epistemology? Pshaw! Phenomenology can only lead to doubt about the external world. Epistemology can undermine phenomenology and internal reflection.
(or I’d rather be a German bachelor than a French existentialist.)
[sub]Besides, what’s so bad about madness, anyway?[/sub]
Fire at will.