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Monday, November 27, 2017

Berent Enç and free will


One of the most interesting philosophical discussions today is the free will debate. When I was rethinking the free will problem again, Berent Enç’s book How we act came to my mind. Although it is in the field of action theory, it contains insights that might help to solve it. So, a good reason to present here a few of its main points.

Enç sees his book as a naturalistic approach to action. However, he explicitly wants to show that there is room for agency in a world of causally connected events. It is here, I think, that the idea of a free will has a place. Enç makes a distinction between what one does deliberatively and what one does automatically. In order to substantiate this, he discusses examples from biology. For instance, a cricket has a built in mechanism for singing. If the weather conditions, the time of the day etc. are correct, its brain cells fire and the cricket sings. But this mechanism will also cause it to sing, when stimulated in the appropriate way by a researcher. Of course, automatic behaviour needs not be innate. It can also be learned, like the behaviour of a pigeon that has been reinforced to peck a key when a light flashes in a Skinnerian paradigm. Likewise a human agent either can do something automatically because she has been born to behave that way, or she can learn to do something automatically, e.g. tying her shoelaces: As a child the agent had to learn it and each time she initially tied her shoelaces, she had to think about the right movements; as an adult, the agent simply does, probably without even being able to tell any longer what she exactly does. However, an agent does not tie the shoelaces involuntarily, like when she sneezes, but she has a reason for it. By arguing this way, Enç substantiates that an agent has macro-units of behaviour controlled by higher centres that determine the reasons why the agent does what she does and micro-units of innate or learned behaviour that are subsystems that control the limb trajectories. The macro-units determine the agent’s purposes, beliefs, desires and intentions, and what the agent thinks on the macro-level triggers the behaviour of the micro-units that produce the specific limb movements needed to fulfil the agent’s specific goals. It’s here that deliberation plays a part. Essential in rational action is that deliberation involves weighing the pros and cons of what the agent might do. However, for Enç deliberation is not a process that finally is independent of the world around the agent. It is to be explained by reference only to events, states, and the causal relations among them in the world around the person and by the way they are represented within the person. Once the process of deliberation has been finished it will set to start the actual behaviour, which, at least for a part on a basic level, will be executed automatically without further thinking.
Enç has embedded his analysis in a discussion of current problems of action theory. For example he discusses the question whether it is possible to take volitions as a starting point of action. But how is it then possible to avoid an infinite regress: For what determines the volitions and what determines this and so on? Enç accepts the idea of basic action, but if so, what is then a basic action, he asks. These are problems that Enç discusses, and for which he tries to find an intelligent solution in developing a complicated causal model of deliberation. It is not, as he shows, that the deliberation-action process is simply unidirectional, going from events in the world to representations of these events in the agent to deliberation to the triggering of a preferred kind of behaviour to fulfilment of the purpose. There is ample room in the model for feedback loops. Moreover, at each level the agent can choose what to do, according to her preferences, beliefs, desires, action possibilities and intentions, depending on the circumstances in which the action takes place. Once the decision has been taken and the final intention has been determined, it is the intention that triggers the agent’s basic acts at the right time, and that guides the agent in the execution of the action chosen.
Enç’s book is an important contribution to the naturalistic approach, but it has also much value for the interpretive approach and with that for the idea that there is a free will (which Enç ignores, however). An interpretive approach does not explain what people do by analyzing objective causes, as the naturalistic approach does, but understands the subjective meanings that the acting people themselves give to their actions. Enç analysis potentially brings the two approaches closer together.
This becomes clear, when one looks at the action theory of Alfred Schütz, one of the founders of the interpretive approach. Schütz sees behaviour as a more or less automatic thoughtless activity, while action is performed according to a plan. Naturalists explain what an agent does in terms of the way it is determined by her beliefs and desires in an objective causal way. Interpretationists, however, emphasize that an agent’s reasons are subjective interpretations that make certain actions the thing to do. Enç’s analysis makes is possible to put these approaches together. When analyzing what naturalists do, one can say that they have in mind a Schützean notion of behaviour. In terms of Enç, it is the behaviour done by the micro-units. Beliefs, desires, reasons and intentions are then formulated as ways of explaining what the agent does on the level of the micro-units that execute the actual behaviour. On the other hand, interpretationists see action as a way of thinking what to do according to a Schützean action plan. In terms of Enç, this is the process of deliberation executed by the macro-units of behaviour. Seen in the light of Enç’s causal deliberation model, naturalism and the interpretive approach are partial approaches to the problem of how to explain what an agent does. With the help of Enç’s model these approaches can be integrated. It is in this integration that there is room for a free will, not as an epiphenomenon of the bodily process but as an autonomous phenomenon.

Enç, B. (2003). How We Act: Causes, Reasons, and Intentions. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

This blog is an abbreviated and adapted version of my review of Enç’s book in Philosophical Psychology, 2005/6: 797-800.

Monday, November 20, 2017

Principles of Philosophy


Last week I discussed the Principle of Charity, especially the version developed by Donald Davidson. It says – to put it in another way – that “in seeking to understand a point of view ... we seek to understand that view in its strongest, most persuasive form before subjecting the view to evaluation.” (1) Such a principle is a methodological rule. It is a rule for cogent philosophy in order to get the best philosophical results. A methodological rule like this “represents a guideline to be followed if error is to be avoided.” “It is not a philosophical thesis or doctrine that purports to answer to some substantive philosophical question, [but] a rule of procedure that specifies a modus operandi, a way of proceeding in the course of philosophizing.” (2) Such a philosophical thesis says for example, “Ought implies can” (Kant), or “that it is fine for the rich to get richer only if the poor always become richer than they would have done had the wealthy been held back.” (the difference principle, formulated by John Rawls) (3)
Nicholas Rescher distinguishes several kinds of methodological principles of philosophy (4), which I’ll ignore here. Instead I want to put forward a few principles by way of illustration. The selection is arbitrary, and reflects more what I consider interesting than philosophical significance.

- Occam’s Razor. This principle has different formulations, but basically it says that you must remove everything that is superfluous in your argumentation. The principle has been named after William of Ockham, a medieval philosopher who lived from 1288-1348. However, the principle was already known before Ockham, and it has also been worded by philosophers after him. Strangely enough, the principle cannot be found in Ockham’s writings, although the idea is present, so it is to be wondered why the principle has been named just after him.
- Nothing is without a reason, better known as the principle of sufficient reason. This principle has been formulated by G.W. Leibniz (1646-1716) and says that nothing must be maintained without a substantive reason. Don’t state what hasn’t a sound basis. There is also an ontological version of this principle, saying that everything in the world has a reason why it is. (5)
- The falsification principle, brought forward by Karl R. Popper. It says that you must look for arguments that undermine your views and the views developed by others and not for arguments that sustain them. The latter can always be found and will not make a view better, but the former lead to scientific and philosophical progress. If your theory is that all swans are white and you have seen already ten white swans, then the eleventh white swan that you observe will not make your theory better, but a black swan will do.
- Never explain what is obscure by something yet more so. If you replace in this principle the word “explain” by its synonym “make clear”, it becomes a tautology. It’s the purpose of philosophy to elucidate, not to obfuscate. (6) David Hume (1711-1776) formulated a related principle, the principle of evidence. This says that a weaker evidence can never destroy a stronger.

Voilà some methodological principles of philosophy. Principles like these help solve philosophical problems and they provide powerful rules of thought. What remains, however, is how to choose our problems. There can be many reasons to consider a topic relevant for philosophical discussion, but at least one principle must guide your choice: Never flog a dead horse, that is don’t argue against that which nobody maintains. (7)

Notes
(2) Nicholas Rescher, Philosophical Dialects. An Essay on Metaphilosophy. Albany: State University of New York Press, 2006. Quoted from https://www.sunypress.edu/pdf/61262.pdf , p. 2
(4) p. 3 (see note 1). – (5) id. p.5. – (6) id. p.8. – (7) id. p.15.

Monday, November 13, 2017

The Principle of Charity


Look at the pictures above and answer the following question: Which of these three birds is not an owl?

Once I was in an educational park somewhere in Germany and in a corner of the park there were bird pictures hanging in the trees; pictures like those above. I got the same question as I just asked you. The answer? The bird at the right is not an owl. I didn’t understand, for the picture on the left shows a long-eared owl, the one in the middle a barn owl, and on the right you see a tawny owl. Why shouldn’t a tawny owl not be an owl? The name says already that it is! And everything I know about birds says that a tawny owl is an owl. It is simply irrational to say that an owl is not an owl. It’s incomprehensible for me to do so.
Then I read the explanation of the answer. The birds are called – in German – from left to right:
Waldohreule - Schleiereule - Waldkauz,
and a “Kauz“ is not an “Eule”.
Now I understood: In German a special word is used for some owls. They don’t call them “Eule” (owl) but “Kauz”. So it was a matter of naming, that the bird on the right was not an “owl” (“Eule”). Nevertheless, I still found it irrational and weird, for there is no ornithological reason for calling a tawny owl a “Kauz” and not an “Eule”. Ornithologically, all the three birds are owls.

Problems like the one just discussed often happen inside and outside philosophy. We see someone doing or saying something weird or we read a text that we don’t understand. We can react by saying: What that person is doing or saying, or what I read here is stupid. It’s not in agreement with what I do, so it’s not rational. Indeed, we can react that way, but it is more practical and reasonable to think: Maybe that person is not really irrational, for most of the time, what people do, say or write has sense for them. Let’s try to find out what this sense is. And usually we do find a meaning of what we first considered irrational: A meaning for that “irrationally” acting, talking, writing person. Although we don’t need to agree with it, the “irrationality” makes sense.
As the American philosopher Donald Davidson made clear to us, we make this kind of reinterpretations of what others do, say and write not only now and then, but we make it “all the time”. We make the actions by others understandable by “deciding in favour of reinterpretation of [those actions] in order to preserve a reasonable theory of belief” (1984, p. 196). And, no surprise, philosophy has a name for this reinterpretation: It’s called the Principle of Charity. The term has been coined in 1959 by Neil L. Wilson, but better known is the development of the idea by William Van Orman Quine and especially the development by Davidson. As Davidson – who thinks of what a person says in the first place – tells us: “if all we know is what sentences a person holds true, and we cannot assume that his language is our own, then we cannot take even a first step towards interpretation without knowing or assuming a great deal about the speaker’s beliefs. Since knowledge of beliefs comes only with the ability to interpret words, the only possibility at the start is to assume general agreement on beliefs. We get a first approximation to a finished theory by assigning to sentences of a speaker conditions of truth that actually obtain (in our own opinion) just when the speaker holds those sentences true. The guiding policy is to do this as far as possible, subject to considerations of simplicity, hunches about the effects of social conditioning, and of course our common-sense, or scientific knowledge of explicable error” (1984, p. 196) A charitable interpretation of the other is not an option but a condition to make communication possible, so Davidson (1984, p. 197). Moreover, a charitable interpretation is not simply a matter of benevolence or politeness. We need it also or just when we don’t agree with the other “Crediting people with a large degree of consistency cannot be counted mere charity: it is unavoidable if we are to be in a position to accuse them meaningfully of error and some degree of irrationality.” (1980, p. 221).
In plain words: We have first to find out what someone stands for from his or her point of view and how his or her ideas fit together. Only then we know to what extent we agree and disagree and only then we can meaningfully criticize him or her if we feel the need. Only after we have interpreted what someone says in a charitable way, we can say why his or her words are irrational, for instance why it’s weird to call a “Kauz” not an owl.

References
- Davidson, Donald, “Mental Events”, in Essays on actions and events, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1980; pp. 207-227.

Monday, November 06, 2017

Averroes and Western Philosophy



Recently I was in Andalusia, the most southern region of Spain, and there were two towns that I wanted to visit anyway: Sevilla and Córdoba. There are many reasons for visiting them, but as a lover of opera and of philosophy both towns were a must for me. For isn’t Sevilla the stage of three famous operas, namely Mozart’s “Don Giovanni”, Rossini’s “The Barber of Seville”, and Bizet’s “Carmen”? And, indeed, when being there it was impossible not to be reminded of them. So I passed a Restaurant Doña Elvira (one of the characters in “Don Giovanni”), I walked around the tobacco factory where the opera “Carmen” begins, and I could also have had a haircut in the hairdresser’s salon of the “Barbero de Sevilla”, if it hadn’t been closed on the moment I was there. However, I was most interested in going to Córdoba. This town is not only known for the mosque that later has been converted into a Christian church, but it is also the native town of three great philosophers: Seneca, Averroes and Maimonides.
Who doesn’t know Lucius Annaeus Seneca Jr., the Roman philosopher, statesman and dramatist and also son of an orator? The man who was the tutor and advisor of Nero, the Roman emperor, but who had also to commit suicide by order of Nero? Most remarkable is that Seneca’s works are still widely read after two thousand years.
And then Maimonides, whose real name was Rabbi Mosjé ben Maimon in Hebrew or Moesa ibn Maimon in Arab. Maimonides lived from 1138 till 1204 and he would become one of the most authoritative rabbis of the Jewish religion. He adapted Aristotelian thought to Biblical faith and his “Thirteen articles of faith” formulate the central ideas of Jewish orthodox thinking.
But most important for Western philosophy has been, I think, Abu al-Walid Muhammad ibn Ahmad ibn Rushd, known in the Western countries as Averroes for short. Averroes (1126-1198) held several important positions in the service of the ruling Almohaden dynasty. He has been exiled from Córdoba for some time because of his too liberal thoughts. He died in Marrakesh in the present Morocco. During his exile Averroes’s writings were banned and burned, which made that some have been lost forever. After his death the Muslims in Spain were forced back by the Christian Spanish armies and so Averroes is considered the last Muslim philosopher from Spain.
Averroes wrote on a wide range of subjects, including medicine and law, and many of his works have been influential. In law he wrote on themes as diverse as cleanliness, marriage, jihad and the government’s role with non-Muslims. He published a medical encyclopedia and commented on the work by the Roman physician Galen (Claudius Galenus; 129 - after 200 AD). However, what affected Western thought most was his philosophical and theological work. Averroes devoted three decades to writing commentaries on thinkers in these fields. He commented on Plato, Alexander, Nicolaus of Damascus, Porphyry and Ptolemy, but especially important are his commentaries on Aristotle. Averroes wrote commentaries on all Aristotle’s works with the exception of the latter’s Politics. In this blog I cannot do justice to his thoughts; far from that. But most of Aristotle’s works had been lost in the western world since the sixth century or they had been ignored. Many were still available in the Arab world, often only in an Arab translation, but in the West they were unknown. If I was allowed to mention only one contribution by Averroes to Western thinking, it would be that his commentaries on Aristotle came to renew Western intellectual interest in this outstanding Greek philosopher. On the other hand, in the Arab world, the influence of Averroes faded into the background after his death. As Bertrand Russell says it: “In [Mohammedan philosophy] he was a dead end; in [Christian philosophy] a beginning” (p. 419). From the end of the twelfth century on Averroes influenced the scholastics, but he got also a philosophical school of his own. Its adherents were called the Averroists and they were a group of unprofessional freethinkers who denied immortality. Under the professional thinkers Averroes’s influence was big among the Franciscans, like Roger Bacon (ca.1214-ca.1294) and at the newly founded University of Paris. How would Western philosophy have developed if this Muslim thinker hadn’t revealed the thoughts of one of the founders of just this Western philosophy?

Sources
- H. Chad Hillier, “Ibn Rushd (Averroes) (1126—1198)”, in Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy, on http://www.iep.utm.edu/ibnrushd/#H3
- Bertrand Russell, History of Western Philosophy and its connection with Political and Social Circumstances from the Earliest Times to the Present Day. London: George Allen & Unwin; 1974 (1946)