I am in the middle of reading Michael Huemer’s Knowledge, Reality, and Value, which he bills as a textbook. I see it as a vehicle for Huemer to give his views on some major philosophical topics. Although I do not have a Ph.D in philosophy, I consider myself able to play in that league. I may be missing some jargon, but otherwise I think I can go toe to toe with any of them.
Why study philosophy? My answer is to keep your mind from being rotted by reading Twitter. That raises the question (and does not beg the question):
Why not simply avoid reading Twitter in order to keep your mind from rotting?
The answer is that although it helps to not read Twitter, unfortunately other people read Twitter, their minds are rotting, and they will rot your mind unless you study philosophy.
For me, the most fundamental epistemological truth is this:
Other people exist, and one has to reconcile one’s beliefs to theirs.
Reconciling my beliefs to yours does not mean that I always agree with you. Consider the Asch conformity experiment. In a psychology experiment, you are brought into a room with three other people, who you are led to believe are also subjects, but who in fact are confederates of the experimenter. On a screen at the end of the room, a projector shows two lines, A and B. Line A is longer than line B, but when you are asked to say which line is longer, the other three “subjects” all say that line B is longer. What do you say?
When the experiment is done with many subjects, a sizable proportion of them choose to agree that line B is longer. This is known as “Asch conformity.”
Most of the time, you and I agree. I see an octopus, and you see an octopus, and reconciling my beliefs with yours is easy. When we disagree, as in the Asch conformity experiment, I have to decide whether it is your view of the screen or mine that is correct. If I think that your view is incorrect, I may infer other that you are looking from a different angle or that you have been instructed to lie.
If we take it as given that other people exist and that we have to reconcile our views to theirs, then this reinforces the case for what Huemer calls “direct realism,” while not sliding into “naive realism,” a term that I learned from Jeffrey Friedman. Direct realism says that in order for you to see an octopus, an octopus must really exist. Naive realism says that everything you believe to be true is true.
My epistemological view is that when I see an octopus there really is an octopus unless other people persuade me that there is no octopus. Usually, when I see an octopus, other people see the octopus. But if other people say there is no octopus, then I become like the subject in an Asch conformity experiment. I have to wonder whether they are lying, whether their perception is messed up, or whether it is my perception that is messed up.
A lot of epistemology uses your own mind as a starting point. Think of Descartes’ “I think, therefore I am.” My preferred epistemology uses other minds as a starting point. I put Descartes into reverse. “There are people in the world, and I am similar to them. They think, therefore I think.”
A skeptic could ask, “How do you know that there are other people in the world?” or “How do you know what other people are thinking?” My reply is that I am darned sure there are other people in the world, and I have pretty accurate perceptions of a lot of their thoughts.* To be skeptical about that is at best ridiculous and at worst impossible.
*As thoughts get more complex, misunderstandings can and do arise.
Thanks for your comments, Arnold! Minor quibble: the Asch experiment uses a collection of 3 lines (rather than 2).
In the experiment, btw, subjects later reported different reasons for giving the incorrect answer. Some of them were simply lying, i.e., they knew the answer was wrong but, basically, they cared more about conforming than being correct. Some others thought that they must be misperceiving since multiple other people perceived things differently. This is rational (until you take account of the possibility that the other people are lying, which is what actually happened, and which is unsurprising if you’re in a psychology experiment!). A tiny portion of people appeared to actually misperceive the lines in accord with the other people in the room.
A less minor quibble: I would define direct realism as the view that in perception, one is directly aware of something in the external world, rather than one’s own mental state. This contrasts with indirect realism, which holds that one is only indirectly aware of the external thing. (Both agree that there is an external thing.)
Regarding your main point: I would say that disagreement from others is a potential defeater for the justification of your beliefs. I wouldn’t portray it as the sole central issue in epistemology, though. I would say it is just one among many possible kinds of defeaters.
I wouldn’t describe it as the most fundamental issue, either; I think the most fundamental question is what is the source of justification for belief. After answering that, then we can get a handle on what conditions would potentially defeat that justification. Notice, btw, that these defeaters themselves have to have some source of justification, which is why the general question of the source of justification is more fundamental.
Thanks, Michael, for note on direct vs indirect realism.
I think of epistemology as answering: “How do we know what we know?”
But for me, “how do we know what is True?” is the more important, pragmatic issue. Tho the “Will to Power” is not my preferred, but is a very important answer to consider.
The experimental results are reminiscent of the economics of “informational cascades,” where it’s optimal to disregard one’s own signal after receiving reports of sufficiently many others’ reports, assuming truthful reporting. Setting aside the important question of the truthfulness of reporting, informational cascades are a necessary consequence of Bayesian learning. Contra most epistemologists, many economists think of Bayesian updating as a rational “basis for belief.” Does Huemer engage on this issue?
Philosophy has to grapple with all possibilities, not merely the status quo.
Suppose you were in a drug-induced coma on the way to Mars. Due to a life support system malfunction on board and a big asteroid collision back home, everyone else is dead. Nevertheless, you wake up. Tell me what “other people exist” means in this scenario.
Even if true, “Other people exist” is not axiomatic.
What about doing some coding and math on the side to keep your mind sharp?
Or perhaps do both.
Math and code keep a mind honest. Elegant rhetoric doesn’t impress a compiler.
I can’t resist such an opening for such an oldie moldie.
Descartes is in a restaurant, enjoying a fine meal. When the waiter comes around to ask is monsieur would care for some desert, Descartes feels the weight of what he has eaten and says, “I think not” and *poof* he disappears.
Didn’t even pay the bill.
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Why read Twitter? My answer is to keep your mind from being rotted by studying philosophy.
Most of philosophy is just an endless masturbation exercise clouded by jargon and unnecessarily long prose.
Example (from my Twitter feed this morning):
Tweet: No one who uses the word “woke” pejoratively could actually tell you, in a coherent sentence or two, what it means. It’s an empty signifier.
Response: Woke is a set of American deconstructive intellectual tools focusing on power relationships which permit highly educated persons skilled in the manipulation of language to compete for status and authority through reference to an ever-changing set of moralized identity categories.
Now, compare that response to your average philosophy book. Is it even close?
Instead of a blanket condemnation of Twitter, I would prefer a more nuanced assessment. Twitter is just a platform for communicating ideas (like television or radio or a podcast). Whom you decide to follow and what you decide do with the information imparted is probably more important than the platform itself.
https://twitter.com/theageofshoddy/status/1379219190301798405?s=21
I think it’s time for Pascal’s wager – can’t prove others exist, but that’s the way to bet and to make decisions based on.
The desire of philosophers to argue about individual existence has always been a huge turnoff; it’s interesting to see it expanded to question the existence of others. Still meh.
And too many of these Others are on Twitter:
“unfortunately other people read Twitter, their minds are rotting, and they will rot your mind”
They are rotting because they are trying to score points, rather than trying to come up to more accurate truth. Is there an octopus? How do we know? Many might say there is no octopus, altho I (think I) see it.
wonder whether they are lying, whether their perception is messed up, or whether it is my perception that is messed up.
Vast majority of “evidence” is always based on other people – who, if they’re the News, are often lying.
A concrete example of your philosophy in action. 🙂