New Blog: The Rational Hunter

I wanted to post a brief announcement about a (fairly) new addition to the blog community. The blog, administered by Marc Moffett (of Close Range fame), deals with his other interest, hunting. The blog will cover animal rights, hunter rights, etc. Check it out by clicking here.

I'll probably have a link available on the side panel soon!

What is it like to be happy?

I have always wondered whether I feel pleasure or pain "correctly."

On Kowtowing to Terrorists

Joe White writes, "There's a world of difference in Spain's withdrawal of her troops from Iraq, which was based on principle and done in accordance with a campaign pledge, and the Philippines', which was done under threat from terrorists to behead a hostage." The full entry is available by clicking here.

Frankly, I don't see the distinction between the two countries withdrawals from Iraq. Spain was the victim of a brutal terrorist attack. The attack led to Spain's withdrawal from Iraq. The new Prime Minister, fearful of future terrorist attacks, decided unilaterally to leave Iraq's war to someone else. The Philippines was not the victim of a terrorist attack, but it was the victim of similar severe (cumulative) psychological distress. One of it's citizens was threatened by terrorists, and the country decided to withdraw its troops.

What's the real distinction? The only distinction I can generate is that Spain was attacked, while the Philippines was not. Other than that, both countries had similar reasons for leaving Iraq.

Blogging Lite

Blogging will be lighter for the next few weeks for one or more of the following reasons: (i) completing a draft of my comprehensive paper, tentatively titled "Taking Nonsense Seriously," (ii) going on vacation, (iii) spending time with my wife, or (iv) preparing for the fall semester (and beyond).

New Wave Practical Rationalism

I've posted to my website a newly revised version of my paper, "New Wave Practical Rationalism." Here is the abstract for the paper:

Elijah Millgram, the main advocate of practical empiricism, argues that experience matters most for figuring out what to do. Nothing other than experience is a useful guide for action. I argue that Millgram is wrong. His argument rests on rock-bottom beliefs being experiential. If rock-bottom beliefs are experiential, the reason they are rock-bottom is on account of our commitment to them. Commitment is something antecedent to belief, perhaps an a priori intuition. If rock-bottom experiential beliefs depend on a priori intuition, then experience does not matter most for figuring out what to do. So, we should reject Millgram's practical empiricism for something I term new wave practical rationalism.

A pdf version of the paper is available by clicking here. Comments and criticism are welcome.

The Democratization Principle

There seems to be a prevailing belief that everyone, the world over, wants to be a part of a free and democratic state. We justify the belief by pointing out that wanting something else is inconsistent. A free state is required for someone to want something else, so everyone has to believe in a free and democratic state.

The Democratization Principle is so important that it seems to be the main premise of the Bush administration's argument for going to war in Iraq. With the years of tyranny under the rule of Saddam Hussein, the people of Iraq deserve a democratic way of life. This is true, but our definition of "democracy" and the definition of "democracy" prevailing in Iraq may be different. Have we ever asked the Iraqi people what their definition includes? Could we possibly be wrong to think they want the same sort of "democracy" we enjoy?

New Philosophy of Biology Blog

There's a new blog in town by Michael Ruse and the phil. biology crowd at Florida State University. Click here for the link. I've also added it to my blog links on the right side panel.

Back from N.C.

So, I've returned to Salt Lake City from North Carolina. It seems like the heat has followed me, but (luckily) the humidity has not.

Rethinking the War on Terrorism

A peaceful resolution of the war on terrorism seems a long way off. It is even longer if we consider America's policy toward terrorists. The U.S. has established that they will never negotiate with a terrorist organization because that would only provoke other rogue organizations to use similar tactics. What is the origin of this policy? Why has the U.S. thought that if we negotiate with one organization, then other organizations will be prompted to use similar tactics against the U.S. to get what they want?

Terrorism is not something new. Rogue organizations, including sovereign nations and loosely organized rebel forces, have used terror tactics in the past, e.g. the KKK. America's involvement in an armed conflict against terrorism is new. In the past, America has not negotiated with these organizations; instead, America's policy is to capture leaders of the terrorist group, put them on trial, and sentence the leaders to death or to a long jail sentence. The belief is that if we negotiate with those who use terror tactics, then they, and others like them, will use similar tactics to get what they want from the U.S. The origins of this policy are hard to determine. After all, the KKK, for all intents and purposes, was the first terrorist organization working inside the U.S. They used terror tactics, but the government has negotiated settlements with KKK members in the past. In particular, some KKK members have been set free for information pertaining to the leaders of the KKK and where the government can find them.

Thinking that negotiating with terrorists will lead to more terrorism is a weak argument at best. It goes something like this: if group x got what they wanted by doing a, then we should do something similar to a to get what we want. One group will probably think this. So, all the groups in the world will think this. Given that all groups could potentially think this, we will not negotiate with terrorists. This is a very western way of thinking. The problem is that in the eyes of terrorists, particularly religious extremists (this holds for Islamic and Christian extremists equally well), they will not be satisfied by one or two acts of negotiated settlement. Their view is not the following: (a) I want 100 prisoners released, (b) I want 100 cheeseburgers from McDonald's, etc. What they really want is a change in world view. Negotiating with terrorists is not the problem at all. We think that negotiating with terrorists will lead to them carrying out more actions. This is true, but it has nothing to do with negotiations. It has more to do with their goal: the goal is to change everyone's world view - to brain wash the universe into believing what they believe. So, there's no real connection between negotiating with terrorists and the activities of terrorists.

Leiter Reports Talent: Part 2

Leiter cites that the distribution of talent depends on one's field of specialization. If a person who's speciality is continental philosophy were interested in a more main-stream analytic topic and this person's influence were of comparable importance, then s/he would be at a major research institution, an institution ranked highly on the PGR (Leiter cites Maudemarie Clark as an example).

This is an interesting argument, and it's a popular one. The argument resembles something we might have encountered in high school. We all may (or may not) remember high school. The argument goes something like this: If you are a football team member, then you are popular among your peers. So, those who play golf or soccer aren't popular.

This is a bad argument. In fact, some golfers and soccer players are popular because they have a great deal of talent (playing ability). What sport you play or what research interests you have should not restrict you from being popular or being hired by a research university. Insisting that one's research interests be in consonance with some professional "norm" denies that diversity is important for top research institutions. Diversity is important for research; isn't it? If the faculty consists of members doing the same type of research, then new ideas will be difficult to initiate. If the faculty consists of members doing various types of research, then new ideas might be embraced (even if the new idea is later rejected).

In many ways, this is an idealistic argument. It even may be considered naiive by some. I cannot deflect this ad hominem attack without resorting to the same tactic, so I will admit that there is an idealism that underlies my arguments. If anything comes of these entries, then it is (at the least) a critical analysis of Leiter that is long overdue. The last time I checked philosophy - the discipline itself - thrives on critical analysis.

Leiter Reports Talent: Part Ia

I forgot to mention that this will be a multi-part series on Leiter's interpretation of philosophical talent. (It'll probably take place over a series of weeks.)

After some review, I think there is a better way to disrupt what Leiter says about "threshold requirements" and the "well-connected, well-pedigreed" person in philosophy.

What does it mean to be "well-connected, well-pedigreed"? It seems that Leiter only wants to include those people who have attended schools ranked highly on the PGR. This supposes that attending a highly-ranked school means that the person is well-connected and well-pedigreed. Presumably, the people who attend these institutions know the people who occupy well-respected places in the philosophic ivory tower.

First, connectedness and pedigree may not end there. Connectedness and pedigree might include a longer line of philosophic geneaology. Some faculty member may have studied with Wittgenstein or Russell or Quine or Putnam or Carnap, etc. Pedigree indicates a direct line of descent or a special lineage. Since all of the institutions offering a PhD have faculty members who studied with well-respected people, there doesn't seem to be a way of discerning each program based on pedigree. All graduate students find themselves in a great lineage of philosophers. So, pedigree cannot be the way we distinguish talent.

Second, connectedness assumes some type of intimate relation between (I presume) a faculty member and a student. Social skills determine the depth of connection. Attending highly ranked PhD programs does not guarantee tremendous social skill (some would contend that the contrary is true, but I'll refrain from arguing that here). If a person is not very sociable, then that person may not be very well-connected, despite having attended and earned a degree from a highly ranked school. Moreover, it might be possible for someone from a lower-ranked school to engage a faculty member from a higher-ranked school. The person may build great rapport with the faculty member, enough even to warrant the faculty member to write a letter of recommendation for him/her.

Saying that connectedness and pedigree are additional features of someone with philosophic talent seems ill-fated. The purpose and aim of all students and faculty members studying philosophy is to read, research, and write as well as possible. Connectedness and pedigree cannot be the reason for some of the best departments to hire faculty members. If it is, then how does one show that he/she is well-connected, well-pedigreed on a c.v.? It seems impossible to do without having earned a degree from a highly-ranked PGR school.

Leiter Reports Talent: Part I

Brian Leiter has offered the rest of the philosophical world some keen insight as how to tell who is a philosophical talent and how to tell who is not (Read his blog here). What I have to say here makes little difference to the rest of the philosophical community but I would like to address some of his arguments.

I agree with Leiter that philosophy is a very competitive field, and I agree there are many more talented people than there are jobs available. Despite these agreements, there are a few problems in his analysis of philosophical talent.

First, I've always thought that philosophy - academic philosophy in particular - is about ideas, good ideas (perhaps even great ideas). If a person can think clearly and write clearly on good ideas, then s/he will succeed in philosophy. The person will publish widely and move up the ranks (PGR or otherwise). Leiter implies that good ideas (what he terms talent and ability) are merely "threshold requirements." By this, either we mean that without good ideas one cannot survive in philosophy or we mean that good ideas help propel one into better standing among his/her peers. It appears that Leiter means the former, not the latter. Talent is a requirement for survival. What makes people better in the philosophy world is the fact that they are "well-connected [and] well-pedigreed."

Philosophy, the discipline itself, then, is not necessarily about publishing or about presenting at conferences or doing good work, for that matter; it's about who knows who. There's an old saying in the business world that: "it's not what you know, it's who you know that matters." This is what Leiter implies from saying that those who obtain research positions in philosophy are those who are well-connected, well-pedigreed. So, philosophy is not about writing clearly or about thinking interesting things, it's all about who you know and (presumably) who knows you.

Networking is an integral part of all business, but do we want to call philosophy a business? A common complaint among introductory philosophy students is that philosophy has nothing to do with the "real" world. The reason they cite for this complaint is that it deals completely in theoretical ideas about unusual matters. Business, on the other hand, affects society. If a business is successful, then it can contribute money or time to good causes. How are philosophers affecting society? Ethicists commonly think that we can solve everyday problems, that we can assist someone in making life and death decisions. It is an admirable goal that we might influence others decisions on matters of life and death, but in a recent conversation a hospital adminstrator scorned a philosopher for over-analyzing a situation the hospital faced with a patient. Philosophy and philosophizing is not built for a "I want a decision now" type society. Our goal should not be to affect change right away; it should be about affecting change over the long haul. This is what makes philosophy different from business. It does not concern current decisions about petty problems. Philosophy concerns well-analyzed decisions about larger problems. At least on this count, philosophy is not a business.

Saying that philosophy is not just about good ideas but also about who knows who is to analogize philosophy with business. In the long run, what philosophy seeks is to change the way we think about x, whatever x is. Change comes gradually. The who knows who culture prevalent in business and the culture Leiter reports is important for philosophy assumes that we affect change immediately. Business is about making good, fast decisions in a moment's notice. Philosophy does not seek quick fixes; on the contrary, it seeks lasting change.

3 People and a hotel room

Here's an interesting brain teaser a student raised recently. I think I've got the correct answer, but I thought I'd blog it anyway.

3 people check into a hotel room. The front-desk person charged the 3 people $30 for the night. Each person agrees to pay $10 a piece.

It turns out the room is only $25. So, the front-desk person sends the bellhop to the room with the $5.00 to return to the 3 people.

The 3 give the bellhop a $2.00 tip, and each of them keeps $1.00. Instead of paying $10 per person for the night, then, each person has paid $9.00.

The funny thing is that if we calculate the numbers something doesn't add up. $9.00 X 3 people is $27.00 plus $2.00 for the bellhop equals $29.00. Where did $1.00 go?

Newcomb's Paradox and the Unreality of Time

In a recent discussion with a student, she has suggested that Newcomb's paradox presupposes that time is real. If we are able to prove that time is not real, then Newcomb's paradox seems to dissolve. So, it seems that one way around Newcomb's paradox is to suggest that we cannot solve the paradox without first dealing with the paradox of time.

Let me see if I can cash out what my student means here. Newcomb's paradox involves a chooser and a predictor. The predictor can accurately predict whether the chooser will pick one box or both boxes. From a temporal perspective: (1) the predictor makes his prediction at t1; (2) the predictor puts $1mil in the second box or not, according to his prediction; finally, (3) the chooser chooses.

Most of the literature (if not all) has tried to deal with whether the chooser should decide to take just box 1, just box 2, or both box 1 and 2. McTaggart has shown us that time might not be real. He has said that positions in time are distinguished in two ways: (a) each position is either past, present, or future and (b) each position in time is earlier than some other position or is later than some other position. Call the former the a series and the latter the b series. In the a series, past, present, and future are incompatible determinations of an event. If an event is past, then it cannot be present or future. The same goes for a future event and a present event. On the other hand, every event has all of the determinations. If any event is past, then it was once a future event and a present event. These two claims are inconsistent. Therefore, the a series, including change and time, cannot exist.

In the case of Newcomb's paradox, the predictor seems to rely on the reality of time for him to make an accurate prediction. Predictor makes a prediction at t1 about what the chooser will do at t3 (a future event) so that he can put $1mil in the box or not at t2 (a future event). When the predictor puts the $1mil in the box or not at time t2, the prediction made at t1 has already passed (which was present at t1). When the chooser chooses at t3, t2 and t1 are in the past. So, for t1, t2, and t3, each was present and not in the future or past, each was future and not in the past or present, and each was past and not in the future or present, but each of t1, t2, and t3 are past, present, and future at one time or another. Since the claims are inconsistent, time cannot exist. The paradox itself presupposes the reality of time. If time cannot exist, then the paradox cannot be solved without first solving the paradox of time. So, to solve Newcomb's paradox, we should first solve the paradox of time.

This seems to be what my student has suggested. If she writes a paper on it, I will see if there is something I left out and post it later.

Instrumentalism and reasons for acting

Candace Vogler in Reasonably Vicious gives an argument she attributes to ordinary instrumental theories, what she later calls "the standard picture." The argument is:

1. Having effective reasons for acting requires cognition and volition. (premise)

2. If cognition is the sole province of reason's operation, then volition always involves some arational element. (premise)

3. Volition is not a matter of cognition alone. (premise)

4. Cognition is the sole province of reason's operation. (1,2)

5. The nonaccidental relation between a practical consideration and an agent's motivational set does engage volitional elements in the set. (premise)

6. Desire is the preferred candidate separable volitional element in instrumentalist moral psychology.

7. So, reasons for acting depend on desires, and desires are (to some extent) arational. (1,4-6)

What I question is whether volition and cognition are as easily separable for the instrumentalist as Vogler seems to assume. One of the characteristics of cognition is the ability to quantify and regulate thoughts. Cognition enables us to reason from A to B. We realize that B is an end, and, in order to obtain B, we must do A. Part of such an explanation is our wanting to B. On the instrumentalist account above, our believing in B and our wanting to do B are separable. If our wanting to do B and our believing in B are separable, then how is it that we know when we have attained B. Separating volition and cognition seems like it would confuse us. We wouldn't know whether the B we attain by doing A is the B we wanted to attain in the first place.