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"I define knowledge as a relation between two or more
concepts, where concepts are mental objects. But these concepts do
not exist apart from a conceptualizer, an intelligent being. Thus
human knowledge is subjective and has no absolute meaning."
-- Patrick Reany
"Physical concepts are free creations of the human mind, and are not,
however it may seem, uniquely determined by the external world.
In our endeavor to understand reality we are somewhat like a man trying to
understand the mechanism of a closed watch. He sees the face
and the moving hands, even hears its ticking, but he has no way of opening the
case. If he is ingenious he may form some picture of a mechanism
which could be responsible for all the things he observes, but he may never be
quite sure his picture is the only one which could explain his
observations. He will never be able to compare his picture with the real
mechanism and he cannot even imagine the possibility or the meaning
of such a comparison"
EVOLUTION OF PHYSICS
by Albert Einstein, Leopold Infeld
Touchstone, 1938, p31.
"A human being is a part of the whole, called by us "Universe," a part
limited
in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings
as
something separated from the rest a kind of optical delusion of his
consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our
personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us.
Our task must
be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to
embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty. Nobody is
able to achieve this completely, but the striving for such achievement is in
itself a part of the liberation and a foundation for inner security. "
-- In H. Eves Mathematical Circles Adieu,
Boston Prindle,Weber and Schmidt,
1977.
What is Knowledge?
by Patrick Reany
Published in: Arizona Journal of Natural Philosophy, Vol. 2, March 1988, pp. 7-14.
Copyright 1988 by Patrick Reany. All Rights Reserved.Reprinted with
permission.
The detailed answer to the question "What is knowledge?" is of central importance in the enquiry of
epistemology. This essay will be only an introductory answer to the following two questions:
- In what sense does knowledge exist?
- What is the relation of knowledge to truth?
To answer these two questions we must first investigate the general process by which we attain new
knowledge.
When we talk about knowledge what we mean is knowledge about some object. Informally,
knowledge is a description of the state of some object. The object may be either physical or abstract.
Some examples of abstract objects include love, hate, memory, the future, and even knowledge itself. We
naively believe that our knowledge of reality is direct, but this is a mistake. Our experience with physical
objects is actually indirect. We do not directly mentally experience physical objects; we mentally
experience only our concepts of them.
I define knowledge as a relation between two or more concepts, where concepts are mental objects.
But these concepts do not exist apart from a conceptualizer, an intelligent being. Thus human knowledge
is subjective and has no absolute meaning. However, we may postulate the existence of an all-knowing,
eternal, perfect God that acts as an absolute standard of knowledge and truth, and though there are many
reasons to do this we must admit that any definition of an absolute standard is both subjective and
logically arbitrary.
I have been trying to convey the idea that knowledge has a different kind of existence than matter.
For even if we allow that matter has an existence independent of intelligence, we cannot say the same for
knowledge. Knowledge is very much like sound and color. When a tree falls in the forest it is assumed to
make a lot of sound waves, but if there is no creature nearby capable of hearing, then it makes no sound.
Likewise, when light reflects off an object it produces characteristic wavelengths of light, but neither the
object nor the light are colored in themselves. Color exists in the mind of the perceiver. Color and sound
are the brain's method of making sense out of external signals picked-up by our sensory organs. In like
manner, knowledge does not exist without a knower, and there is no such thing as "unknown"
knowledge.
This brings us to consider in more detail the process of obtaining knowledge. To that end I offer my
own simplistic view. Sometime after conception, the normal fetus develops the rudiments of a
Knowledge Formation System, or KFS. The KFS has two major parts: the Semantic Analysis System
(SAS) and the Program Enhancement System (PES). By analogy to artificial intelligence, the SAS is both
“software” and “hardware” that functions to convert raw sensory data, carried to the brain via the nervous
system, and there produces meaningful concepts about the outside world (i.e., the world “outside” of
human consciousness). The PES serves to improve the SAS. Thus the human is like a computer and
programmer in one, though this should come as no surprise. We could define the efficiency of the PES as
a measure of intelligence. If we do, however, it seems inescapable that intelligence is largely a function
of erudition, open-mindedness, curiosity, and mental stamina, which puts intelligence under the category
of a developmental skill. If I may speculate some more, I believe that intelligence (the efficiency of
reprogramming) is a decision process which uses value judgments to choose “good” programming
criteria out of assorted criteria. This process is called the “philosophy” of programming. My induction
here, also bolstered by my own experience, is that efficient reprogramming is aided immensely by
general philosophical know1edge and contemplation.
In brief, the SAS works by intercepting sensory signals, converting these to appropriate nervous
impulses that are sent to the brain (this part I refer to the lower SAS), and there these impulses are
transformed into meaningful concepts that the mind can use to compare against similar concepts stored in
memory (M) This functional part I refer to as the higher SAS. Thus, new knowledge is created by
relating the new concepts to the old. By the way, when the human
mind is engaged in “pure abstract thinking,” the meaning given to
new abstract concepts will also be in terms of old concepts, both
“purely” abstract and not. If all goes well, the new knowledge is
stored in M.
It is logical to infer from this theory that the fetus, in order
to use the KFS when it is in place, must have access to a priori,
nontrivial concepts in M ready to be used by the KFS for making
comparisons. This inference has been debated for hundreds of years.
I call these a priori concepts archephors, on which metaphors
of new knowledge are originally built. In this theory of human
learning, meaning is more fundamental than knowledge, for knowledge
is conformed to and limited by our ability to project meaning onto
the world, and all meaning is ultimately reducible to the
undefinable archephors.
In human terms, I cannot conceive of a good definition of
absolute knowledge. We think of knowledge as being like the
objects it represents. Thus knowledge is a metaphor for these
objects and their purported relationships. Written knowledge, being
a metaphor for mental knowledge, is once removed from "pure
abstract" thinking, and twice removed from the physical, spiritual,
and occult realms.) I shall content myself only to discuss the
relation of knowledge to the concept of truth. In other words, of
all that is called knowledge, what part of it is an accurate
description of the way things really are? To avoid an obvious
infinite regression, the best we can hope to decide on this is just
what we believe, not what we know, is true about knowledge. Our
criteria for belief may include experimentation, appeal to
authority, consensus, and intuition. But how can anyone say
definitively that one criterion is better than any other? Such is a
value judgment. Even the putatively most objective among us, the
scientist, is for example inclined to believe in causality which has
no rational basis for one to believe in its existence: causality is
not an observable. Belief in causality is indeed irrational, but it
is also instrumental for mentally modeling the physical realm, and
such modeling has proven to be useful.
The fundamental problem in believing in absolute knowledge is
found in the dichotomy between what is and how we characterize what
is, which in philosophical terminology is the difference between
metaphysics and epistemology. For the sake of argument, say that we
grant that matter exists in some kind of Absolute state. How we
characterize that state depends on our habits of reasoning, our
particular mode of experiencing the physical realm through our
senses, and our requirement to found all characterizations on
arbitrary definitions. We have no way to defend beyond all doubt the
way we reason, i.e., the logic we adhere to. In fact, from Eastern
mysticism to Zeno's Paradoxes to Quantum Mechanics we find grounds
to doubt the infallibility of so-called Western logic. Ultimately,
barring the use of intuition and revelation, our only means of
characterizing the world is through our SAS. It seems to do a fair
job in helping us deal with the world, but that's no guarantee that
there are no other sentient beings with radically different sensory
capabilities and SAS that can also deal effectively with the same
world. We cannot prove that our way of forming characterizations of
the world through the SAS is absolute, so we cannot prove that the
definitions we adopt to characterize the world in accordance with
the SAS are absolute. For example, we define Euclidean space and
distance as a means of characterizing the world simply because those
definitions help to maximize the meaning of the mental images
provided to us by our naturally Euclidean SAS. But that any meaning
of length is considered necessary to know the “absolute” nature of
the world is itself a value judgment!
Even after deciding to use lengths as a characterization of the
world, we are still faced with decisions about the choice of a unit
length and the invariance of length under physical transportation of
our standard. Furthermore, we accept as an arbitrary definition that
rulers demonstrated to be congruent to the standard remain so when
they are removed from the standard. (There is no physical test for
congruence of separated rods that does not involve unwanted
assumptions about space, time, and light propagation. ) Not only is
congruence itself an arbitrary definition, but the means to
determine congruence is based ultimately on human perception: There
is no independent means to know if we humans properly follow our own
definition of testing congruence in practice. (Please give this
proposition some serious thought.)
Now for an example of the arbitrariness of our definitions,
consider two ways to measure the height of a horse. We can measure
up to so many “hands” as is traditional, or we can be more
“accurate” by using a meter stick. Not only are the two methods not
even equivalent to within a scale factor, but we must seriously
question the implied bias of stating that one is more accurate than
the other. The question is “more accurate for what purpose”? We
choose our definitions as we do because they are useful to us, but
usefulness is subjective. What we need in the search for absolute
knowledge is a system to characterize the world in which we simply
have no choices to make about how to do it. Thus we are led to
this fundamental question: How can absolute knowledge be based on
arbitrary definitions? It seems clear to me that it can't.
Thus even if absolute knowledge exists in some form, it is not
yet available to man except by revelation or intuition, in which
case we can still choose to accept or reject it. It is often said
that absolute knowledge of physical objects exists, such as absolute
lengths of rods, and that we can know “approximate” absolute
knowledge by taking accurate measurements. If we increase the
accuracy of the measurement, we increase the closeness to absolute
knowledge. Whereas I might agree that for practicality more accurate
measurement may provide a “better” measure of an object, I do not
agree that it brings us any closer to absolute (i.e., exact)
knowledge. Just what is this implied metric on knowledge by which we
can supposedly judge the “closeness” of two pieces of knowledge? For
all we really know, absolute knowledge, if it exists at all, is a
hit-or-miss proposition, where a miss is as good as a mile. In
short, how do we know that absolute knowledge is even capable of
approximation? Isn't the very term “approximate Absolute” an
oxymoron?
Human knowledge is a subjective means of coming to grips with the
world. As far as we can prove, human knowledge never captures the
essence of reality; it merely characterizes it according to our own
purposes. In an ironic sense we are epistemologically blinded to
reality by our own senses, which we take to be indicators of an
absolute, independent world. Before we can judge the truth or
falsity of a proposition, we must first be given a proposition that
makes sense to us. In fact, it is hard to believe that a proposition
that doesn't make sense is really a proposition at all. Here's the
point. Assume for the sake of argument that there are absolute
“fundamental realities” out of which all the universe is composed.
Suppose further that our sensory system can detect, codify, and
transmit to the brain impulses that correspond in one-to-one fashion
to these fundamental realities. Now what if, to make sense out of
the farrago of sensory signals the SAS encounters, the brain must
unify (synthesize by interpretation) some of these fundamental
realities (being represented by impulses) into a composite that the
mind falsely interprets as a nonreducible thing, and it must analyze
(reduce by interpretation) some fundamental realities into
meaningful, but false, “more” fundamental realities. The first I
call the fallacy of unjustified synthesis and the second
the fallacy of unjustified reduction. An example of the latter
may be one of Zeno's paradoxes of motion, where he argued that it is
logically impossible to move from a given point to any other point
because there one must first traverse half of that distance, and
also half of that half, and half of that half, and so on. There
being always some subinterval to accomplish before motion can begin,
then motion is impossible, or so Zeno would have us believe.
Apparently it never occurred to Zeno to doubt the assumption made
here that any interval is capable of arbitrary, let alone infinite,
subdivision. We have today every reason to believe that the world is
not arbitrarily divisible into “parts.” Though we still may be able
to keep the adage “A total is equal to the sum of its parts” if we
realize that the reduction to “parts” must not be arbitrary, i.e.,
must not be accepted merely because it is capable of mental
conception.
I have argued in this essay that the first requirement of the SAS
is to produce meaning out of sensory chaos, and that in doing so we
may pay the price of distorting “reality.” For better or for worse,
we are stuck with the SAS that we have. So we should become aware of
its possible shortcomings in presenting the mind with a true
representation of reality. Not only are we probably given a
distorted view of reality, as in the case of the moon illusion in
which the moon appears larger as it looms just above the horizon
than when it is overhead, but we know that the SAS is incapable of
detecting many forms of known signals, and who knows how many
unknown ones. Unless our SAS can “make sense”" out of the raw
sensory data it receives, that sensory data will never be
interpretable to us as knowledge at all. This situation is much like
that of the mathematics student trying to understand abstract
algebra. The problem his SAS is faced with is to make sense out of
an abstract (i.e., purely syntactical) system which is defined by
abstract axioms referring to all “objects” capable of fulfilling the
axioms. The only way the student can make sense out of such a system
is to become familiar with one or more particular examples of the
system. Thus, in learning the examples he transfers meaning to the
abstract system. It remains an open question, however, whether one
ever understands an abstract system by this or any other method, or
rather whether one just becomes adept at working with it.
An interesting question here is the discovery of so-called
analytic knowledge. Analytic knowledge is knowledge that is
deducible from a body of facts by deductive reasoning. A Kantian
example of true analytic knowledge is the truth of the statement
“All black cats are black” because the predicate black is explicitly
contained in the logical subject black cat. It has been asserted
that since computers can reason deductively that they should be
capable of proving all the known theorems, say of group theory, by
just being given the axioms of the theory. Although computers have
done well in lesser areas, such as in proving the theorems of the
predicate calculus, I do not believe they are up to the challenge of
group theory. For a number of years now I have pondered the
intriguing question of where mathematical theorems come from. For
example, the enormous body of theorems in group theory seems out of
proportion to the four axioms that found group theory. Where did all
these theorems come from? The detailed answer to this question
should aid in the search for new theorems, whether by man or by
artificially intelligent machines (AIMs). A theorem is a set of
deductive steps, each of which is justified by an axiom, a
previously proved theorem, a given, or a definition. The purpose of
given conditions is to specify a particular structure to be
investigated, and the purpose of definitions is to specify
(possible) properties that a particular system may have. Now, an
obvious question to a mathematician is whether the group identity is
unique. But would a machine know to formulate that question? The
notion of uniqueness is not explicit in the axioms of group theory,
yet it is provable that the identity element is indeed unique for
every possible group. Thus, unless I'm quite mistaken in my
reasoning, the fact that the identity is unique is not analytically
contained in the axioms of group theory. (Thus I believe that this
case is a legitimate example of Kant's so-called synthetic a priori
knowledge.) Perhaps we need to rethink what we mean by an abstract
system in mathematics. Perhaps we should explicitly define not only
the axioms of the system, but also al1 the possible definable
properties (given by standard definitions) that the system is going
to use. But such a procedure seems absurd, and where is the
allowance for brand new definitions to arise, as was the case in
group theory with the introduction of the terms “normal subgroups”
and “quotient groups”? But how could an AIM, let alone a deductive
computer, intuit the notion of quotient groups? Does artificial
intelligence require artificial intuition? In an unnerving sense,
subgroups and quotient groups exist because mankind has a propensity
for inventing order out of chaos. Subgroups and quotient groups are
groups found within other groups, and that's a very satisfying
invention to the human side of mathematicians. When mankind looks at
the random stars he invents order by “seeing” patterns that aren't
really there; in Western civilization we called these patterns
constellations. But when an AIM looks at the stars will it ever
“see” anything other than random points of light? I have stressed
the term “invent” because, for infinite groups anyway and lacking a
surefire method to prove the consistency of axioms + givens, the
theorems of such groups are not ultimately deductive and analytic as
they appear: their ultimate justification lies in intuition.
(Perhaps the dichotomy between Kantian analytic and synthetic
knowledge is the dichotomy between “rigorous proof” and “proof by
intuition.”)
We are about to encounter some philosophical terms whose
definitions are nonstandard to common usage, dictionary definition,
and scientific acceptance. (Philosophical terms are notorious for
this.) The term “rationalism” I particularly want to address. In
philosophical circles, rationalism means to deduce factual knowledge
from a priori premises, that is, from premises that are somehow
known to be “true” prior to observing the world. Dual to rationalism
is empiricism, which is the deduction of factual knowledge from a
posteriori premises, that is, from premises that are knowable only
by observing the real world. One very good reason that scientists do
not accept either of these extremes is that the scientific method
uses both kinds of deduction. I will chance suggesting a revision of
labels in this matter. The common connotation of rationalism is the
ability to deduce (rationalize) truth about the world from a set of
premises, regardless of the status of the premises, so long as they
are judged to be true. Now if “true deductive knowledge” always
requires the set of premises to be either 1) a priori true, then I
shall refer to it as classic rationalism, or 2) a posteriori true, I
shall refer to it as classical empiricism. To me, the major problem
with rationalism is its insistence that its knowledge is “truth
about the real world” rather than just “useful beliefs about
appearances.”
The fallacy of deductive reasoning as a “truth preserving”
operation strikes a fatal blow at the foundations of the many forms
of so-called rationalism. The Rationalist movements were and still
are an attempt to present knowledge as a true representation of
reality. These movements have all claimed to present their views
as independent of human vagaries and subjectivity - putting it in
the third person, sotospeak, and attempting to speak for all
“rational” people. In writing, the use of the third person has its
use, particularly in exposition of mostly “factual” material. But in
the presentation of controversial matters, such as in an essay, the
use of the third person form is more often than not an affectation,
a pretense at objectivity. I say this because human knowledge is
actually one great essay of human opinion. For even if every human
alive should agree, for example, to measure lengths of rigid rods by
one operational definition only, that still does not remove the
logical arbitrariness and theoretical controversialness of that
definition. Besides that, as I have stated before, that “lengths”
have any importance at all in characterizing the so-called absolute
nature of the world is a value judgment.
In her book Introduction to Objectivist Epistemology
(1966, Mentor, New York), Ayn Rand champions the cause of promoting
objective knowledge; that is, that man can perceive reality and see
it as it “really” is. Hers is a form of rationalism, though she is
quick to denounce other forms of rationalism. I just wish that Rand
and all other rationalists would he as objective in analyzing the
arbitrariness, subjectivity, and uncertainty of the foundations of
any human epistemology. A valid logical argument is only as good as
its premises. For the valid argument to be sound, all the premises
must be true. Now there are effectively only three ways that a
premise can be true. Either a premise is logically true (i.e., it is
true by the adoption of an arbitrary linguistic convention, such as
the statement “all black unicorns are black,” which has no
particular reference to blackness or unicorns), or it is true by
some other deductive reasoning, or it is true by a human judgment
(including arbitrary definitions). The role of human judgment in
deciding truth is inescapable. Consider the proposition that a real
person named George Washington was our First President (or at least
hardly anybody) doubts this, yet as Bertrand Russell pointed out, it
could be that the universe was created just five minutes ago, and we
all have false “memories” of prior events. Since no one can disprove
Russell's proposition, then we must doubt to some degree all of
so-called history. Would the rationalists and the objectivists
retort that for practical purposes, even if Russell's proposition
was true, we can all go on in life as though it was false, for the
appearance of the truthfulness of our common beliefs in history is
all we really need? But this line of argument is pragmatic not
absolute as the rationalists and the objectivists portray.
Rand vehemently rejects the notion that man's knowledge is based
on arbitrary definitions. But consider this example of a categorical
syllogism:
All A is B and all B is C, therefore all A is C
This syllogism, like all categorical syllogisms, is completely
formal and devoid of meaning. Any meaning given to it must come by
extension from its particular cases of applicability. But who
decides which cases are applicable, and by what criteria do they
decide this? Most of us agree that the following is a proper
particular example: Box A is completely inside box B and box B is
completely inside box C therefore box A is completely inside box C.
But to point to this case, or any other case, and declare it as a
proper categorical deduction is a value judgment. And consider the
role of human intuition regarding “insidedness” used in deciding
this proposition. We arbitrarily have decided to decide the uses of
categorical syllogisms strictly on the basis of what the words we
use in them mean to us, which is subjective. But which is it? Do the
syllogisms themselves define the meanings of the terms they imply,
or do the meaning and applicability of the syllogisms devolve from
the meanings of the terms?
It seems ironic to me that I can find one of the best apologetics
for my own position on knowledge from Ayn Rand's own writings to
debunk it (1966, 10):
It is here that Protagoras' old dictum may be given a new
meaning, the opposite of the one he intended: “Man is the measure
of all things.” Man is the measure, epistemologically - not
metaphysically. In regard to human knowledge man has to be the
measure, since he has to bring all things into the realm of the
humanly knowable....
Rand immediately goes on to deny that this leads to subjectivism,
but I cannot disagree more. We ought to just be happy that we can
find any useful means of characterizing the world by mental
constructs; instead, however, we arrogantly believe that because we
found one way to do it that must be the absolute way to do it.
Rand's finesse has backfired. Not only does her metadictum support
subjectivism, but it shows that the world we know it is an
anthropomorphic extension of ourselves. We demonstrate our own
self-hypnosis in, believing in the “objective ‘out there’ ” every
time we forget that objects are not colored, that objects are not
intrinsically near or far, sweet or sour. In all these things we
project our own feelings onto the world. I am not arguing against
this anthropomorphism, mind you (it has fortuitously served us very
well up to this point) I'm just saying that we ought to admit that
we are doing it, and admit that knowledge is subjective.
As best as I can figure, Rand identifies irrationality and
unreason with mysticism (Rand, 1982, Philosophy Who Needs It?,
Signet, New York, 62)
What is mysticism? Mysticism is the acceptance of
allegations without evidence or proof, either apart from or
against the evidence of one's senses and one's reason. Mysticism
is the claim to some non-sensory, non-rational, nondefinable,
non-identifiable means of knowledge, such as “instinct,”
“intuition,” “revelation,” or any form of “just knowing.”...
I repeat: Reason is the faculty which perceives, identifies
and integrates thematerial provided by man's senses. Mysticism is
the claim to non-sensory means of knowledge.
It seems implicit in this argument that we must choose
once-and-for-all between rational/sensorial knowledge and
nonrational/nonsensorial knowledge. I do not do that, and I think
few are willing to, either. I think that most of us follow what I
refer to as Genericism - the use of many diverse epistemologies to
decide on truth, beliefs, and commitments. Genericism is more
open-minded, less dogmatic but it also demands more from its
followers, who must actively weigh the relative merits of one
epistemology against all others, or one person's rationality or
irrationality against all others. Rand seems to regard science as
the perfect example of the fruits of rationality, yet she seems
oblivious to Hume's refutation of a rational science being based on
induction and causality. Physical laws, being mere inductions, are
no better than statements of faith, no matter how much evidence is
given for past successes. Furthermore, much of what is considered
scientific truth is mere implication on nonsensory data, such as the
inference in “atomic energy levels” based on the measurement of
spectral emissions from atoms. But even more can be said of this
example, for even our instruments do not directly “sense” energy
levels, only emission frequencies. Belief in invisible atomic and
subatomic order, structure, and causality is an anthropomorphic
extension of these concepts as applied to personal and social laws,
structures, and interrelations.
Rand is also oblivious to the arbitrariness of defining a sharp
distinction between what is rational and what is not. It's like the
difficulty of defining a boundary between the ocean and the beach,
or like the difficulty in defining the boundary between the natural
and the supernatural. We cannot just say that the nonrational is
whatever is not rational until we first provide an unequivocal
definition of “rational.”
Now I wish to illustrate the fact that deductive reasoning is
ultimately based upon unjustifiable faith, or as Rand puts it: just
knowing. Try this experiment: Take any proposition that YOU feel
strongly about; I will use the case of the peaceful use of nuclear
energy. Take a stand on it one way or the other. Now give a
justifying reason for the stand you took. Now also justify that
reason, and continue this regression until you arrive at a reason
that you cannot justify in words by rational argument. When you have
done this, you will have consciously discovered the innermost
driving force to your life: your personal core of heart-felt
beliefs. In the case of the peaceful use of nuclear energy, I
decided that, until renewable energy sources are available at low
cost, the peaceful use of nuclear energy is good because it is good
for mankind's over all material and medical well-being. Whether you
agree with this implication or not is not the issue at hand. What is
important is that I cannot justify why it is right to provide for
the well-being of mankind - you either believe it or you don't, and
that's "just knowing."
As a final comment to the rationalists' position, I must denounce
their all-too-common practice of deciding their epistemological
doctrines to avoid unwanted moral repercussions. If one is to take
the extreme position that knowledge is objective and absolute, and
that man can know the world as it really is, then one should let the
“moral” chips fall where they may. Though I share with Rand many
concerns about some of the radical irrationalists, I cannot base my
theory of knowledge on possible moral repercussions. Besides, I
think that many rationalists, objectivists, and even irrationalists
have missed an important point: It is contradictory to the doctrines
of irrationality to believe that, except for tautologically true
implications, anything necessarily implies anything else. Therefore,
there is no particular moral or immoral system implied by the
irrationalist epistemology.
I want to dispel the possible impression that the reader may have
gotten that I am a misologist, that is, a person who hates logic and
reason. Actually, nothing could be further from the truth. It's just
that I recognize the limitations of logic and reason. The human
experience is simply not reducible to logic (existentialism), and
creativity often requires a walk on the wild side. I vehemently
resist the dogmatic view that all reality is subject to human logic.
For example, many have chosen to reject the notion of an
all-powerful God on the reason that it is self-contradictory. They
argue that if an all-powerful God exists then it is possible for Him
to create a stone He cannot lift. Yes, as the rules of logic stand
now, this is clearly a logical paradox. But I propose that this
paradox, like Zeno's, only illustrates the limitation of logical
analysis. In a similar conundrum, Russell proscribed a caveat
against self-referential statements (such as “This sentence is
false”) to obviate the logical paradoxes that arise from them I
recommend the caveat: Make no inferences based on propositions using
“infinities.” Thus, by following this rule we eliminate the logical
consideration of “all-powerful” anythings, and we also rule out the
logical analysis of infinitely-subdivided intervals. I offer the
following epistemological koan: All infinities are illogical. (I
will refrain from amplifying what I mean by this for that would
defeat the purpose of the koan.) Of course set theory formally deals
with infinities in the form of infinite cardinal and ordinal
numbers, but these numbers do not follow the ordinary “logic” or
rules, of arithmetic. (It may be that all undefined and undefined
terms are illogical, inasmuch as to be “logical” is to be
explainable. And, in the case of “infinity,” it may be that its
definition as a thing that is not finite merely tells us what it is
not, and not what it is, even though we supposedly know what
“finite” means. Think of it this way: Anytime we try to define a set
by use of a negation, we presuppose that we “know” the universal set
of objects that we are dealing with. But in this case, that would
presuppose that we already know, or have meaning to, the set of all
“finites” and “infinites,” which is clearly circular reasoning.)
To recap my assertions: knowledge certainly exists for it is an
invention of man. It serves man by offering a metaphorical and
subjective characterization of the “known” world. Human knowledge
has no absolute status for it is founded on arbitrary definitions.
If we change our definitions, we change the way we characterize the
world, though presumably the world remains unchanged. That knowledge
has no absolute foundation to man is the inevitable result of the
pluralistic nature of the world. In a sense, though, knowledge can
be said to be “true” when it is understood that knowledge represents
the appearance of the world rather than the “real” world itself.
Logic has its value as a limited means of gaining knowledge about
the world. [One of the limitations of logic (pure deduction) is its
inability to deal with synthetic a priori knowledge.] Human
empirical knowledge is limited to the meaning the SAS can project
“onto the world,” and all meaning is ultimately reducible to the
archephors.
Published in: Arizona Journal of Natural Philosophy, Vol. 2, March 1988, pp. 7-14
http://ajnpx.com/html/AJNP.html.
Copyright 1988 by Patrick Reany. All Rights Reserved.
Reprinted with
permission.
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