Epistemic Contextualism, Internalism, and Externalism

A friend who recently read this post had a question about epistemic externalism. In that post, I ask the following question: "Can some beliefs we have be in some sense justified by virtue of having been caused a certain way...?" My friend, noting that causation is more immediately linked to metaphysics than to epistemology, expressed confusion about whether one who espouses epistemic externalism has conflated a metaphysical question with an epistemological one. For example, if we're asking about what justifies a belief, a common answer is that beliefs are justified in virtue of reasons. This is certainly different than the idea beliefs could be justified in virtue of being caused a certain way.

Epistemology is the study of knowledge. Now, when we specify a subject of study - like knowledge - we are specifying some thing that we think exists, is real, etc. Consider Gordon Clark’s book, A Christian View of Men and Things. Well, what is one of the “Things” in his book about which he attempts to give a Christian View? Epistemology! Metaphysics and epistemology are related. You can’t have a “study of knowledge” (epistemology) unless there is a thing such as “knowledge” to be studied (metaphysics).

A question Clark often asked was, “How do you know?” Clark dealt a lot with comparing and contrasting theories by which people argue we attain “knowledge.” Less often did Clark engage with the question of what knowledge itself is. What is knowledge? Note: this is a question of metaphysics. Of course, if we give an answer to the question “What is knowledge?” we might further ask “How do you “know” that “knowledge” is what you claim?” 

Similarly, ethics is the study of moral principles, i.e. obligations to act in certain ways. A specific ethical theory I accept is that men are obligated to obey God. In fact, I believe God created men with such an obligation. Note: creation is tied to causation and, therefore, metaphysics. If the [created] nature of man is such that he is obligated to obey God, I think this in turn shows that ethics is rooted in ontology (which is a branch of metaphysics). 

[Parenthetical: in fact, I think God’s own nature obliges Himself to act in certain ways. For example, God cannot lie. God cannot fail to love Himself. He cannot annihilate Himself. In fact, these statements are even more absurd than statements like “5 equals 6.” Being free from all external constraints and self-sufficient, God’s own actions are rooted in His nature. Ironically, only in this way, I think, is one able to defend against theistic necessitarianism (link).]

Nature, knowledge, and moral principles: these are, of course, distinct, and we should not conflate them. But if we elevate the importance of any one or two of these to the exclusion of the other[s], we will end up in serious error. If we slight the importance of metaphysics or have a skewed view of the nature of reality, we might be tempted to denied the correspondence theory of truth (like Clark), to understate the importance of using our God-given talents in this world, etc. If we slight the importance of epistemology or have a skewed view of knowledge, we might rationalize the ethical destruction of others (like Hitler), find ourselves zealous but destroyed by God for a lack of knowledge, etc. If we slight the importance of ethics or have a skewed view of our moral obligations, despite our cries on the day of judgment, the Lord Jesus will not recognize our fruitless selves. For more on the point that a Christian worldview is an integration of equally important considerations, see here.

Let’s return to a specific question: what is knowledge? Most philosophers seem to agree that knowledge involves certain kinds of beliefs in propositional truths:

Example: if I understand a truth (like “Jesus is Lord”) but do not believe it, then I don’t have knowledge of that truth.

Example: If I believe something that is not true (like “Jesus is not Lord”), then I also don’t have knowledge of that proposition.

Is “belief in truth” a sufficient condition for “knowledge”? This is where the discussion gets tricky. For example, who has the privilege or right to decide what “knowledge” can or does mean? Even the question itself is vague. Are we talking about the word “knowledge” (what we can physically write, speak, etc. - this would deal with the philosophy of language) or a particular concept of “knowledge” (the subject of an immaterial proposition - this would deal with epistemology)? And, of course, how do we know whether our answers to these questions are true? 

It would take me a long time to provide a thorough answer to these questions, let alone justification for them. In fact, I have even skipped mention of associated questions like the “problem of the criterion.” I have defended my position on many of these questions elsewhere (e.g. link, link, link), so I will simply summarize my views below to the extent I think they will help alleviate my friend's concern.

Physical words like “k-n-o-w-l-e-d-g-e” are symbols. These symbols encode meaning. Clark seems to agree:

…words are instruments or symbols for expressing thoughts. The letters t, w, o or the Arabic numeral 2, are not the number itself, they are the visual or audible symbols used to refer to the intellectual concept. (A Christian View of Men and Things, pg. 211)

In one context, the use of a physical word (like “knowledge”) might symbolize a particular thought. In another context, the use of a physical word (like “knowledge”) might symbolize another thought. 

[Parenthetical: an interesting point which could be raise is that no two physical words or verbal expressions are exactly alike; for example, there are different pixels and even atoms being used on your computer screen for every time I write the word “knowledge.” But for the sake of space, I'll set aside this curiosity.] 

The point is that what a physical word symbolizes will depend upon context. In fact, physical objects may even symbolize different meanings to different people within the same setting. A swastika will symbolize something quite different to Nazis than it will to Jews. Again, Clark seems to agree. More importantly, his agreement with this can be seen regarding the very question of what “knowledge” means:

The various Scriptural usages of the verb know raise a problem in apologetics to which a commentary can only allude in a footnote. The common meaning is exemplified in simple sentences, such, “I know that there is a tree on the lawn,” and “I know that David was King of Israel.” But sometimes, both in Hebrew and in Greek know means believe, obey, choose, have sexual intercourse. English too uses the verb in a variety of meanings. In their opposition to the intellectual emphasis on truth, experiential, emotional, mystical, and neo-orthodox apologetes have contrasted the intellectual Greek meaning with the (sometimes) sexual Hebrew meaning. This contrast is misguided because the Hebrew verb and the Greek verb are both so used. More serious than this linguistic incompetence is a flaw or a gap in the apologetics of these apologetes. It is well enough to point out the extended meanings of the verb. The verb is indeed so used. But such information is irrelevant as an argument against intellectualism and truth. The fallacy or defect is that these apologetes fail to explain knowledge in its basic sense. To insist on extended meanings of knowledge is no substitute for a basic epistemology.” (The Pastoral Epistles, pg. 166).

In my opinion, this is one of the most important yet overlooked Clark quotes of which I am aware. It suggests that Clark could be considered an epistemic contextualist:

…whether S knows something - that she has two hands, for instance - depends on the context of the person who is saying S knows it. If I, a philosopher, worried about brains in vats and Cartesian demons, say it, then S doesn’t know she has two hands… But if S, an ordinary person on the street, someone without the least tincture of philosophy, says she knows that she has two hands, what she says is true. She attributes knowledge to herself in an ordinary, practical, context, in which demons and handless-brains-in-vats are not relevant possibilities…

 
So who, according to contextualism, is right? Am I, a philosopher, right when I (given my context) say that nobody knows they have hands. Or is S right? We are, I’m afraid, both right. And that is where my low opinion of contextualism comes from. (Fred Dretske, pg. 45, Contemporary Debates in Epistemology)

While I agree with Dretske that as a standalone epistemic position, contextualism would not offer much in the way of clarity to important philosophical questions, the position does allow for nuanced, developed epistemic theories within the different contexts one has in mind. I'll return to this in a shortly.

When we talk about Scripture and sentences, we are talking about “script,” i.e. physical writing. Yes, of course, Clark and I acknowledge that “meaning is exemplified” or symbolized in such things, but the point is that the subject under discussion in the above quote is about the physical symbols themselves and that in God’s own inscripturated revelation to us, Clark admits that the physical word “know” can encode different meanings (“believe, obey, choose, have sexual intercourse”).

Clark refers to one of these meanings as “basic” for intellectualism and epistemology. One can only glean so much from a footnote, but taken together with his other writings, I believe Clark is saying that we must accept a particular meaning of “knowledge” as a necessary precondition for any other meaning of “knowledge” to be intelligible or defensible to us. I outline what I think Clark particularly believed is the “basic” meaning of “knowledge” below, and if I am correct, I agree with Clark:

To summarize, to "knowledge" is about truth. Truth is the set of coherent or consistent propositions. When one reflects upon a true proposition, believes it, has either deduced it from an axiom or believes it axiomatically, and the axiom [and/or deduction] is infallibly justified, he can be certain (in an epistemic, not merely a psychological, sense) that what he believes is truth. (link)

Here is where I finally get around to answering my friend's question. His question is on the right track if we were to say that externalism is sufficient as a “basic” definition for knowledge. I have argued in many places that epistemic externalism fails to provide us with a full assurance of our beliefs. For a Christian, this should be seen as problematic. See here, here, and here. At the same time, remember that Clark admitted and Scripture indicates that the physical word “knowledge” may symbolize different meanings in different contexts. 

This brings me to meta-epistemology, a discipline which questions the assumptions and commitments of epistemology (link). When we think about what “knowledge” means, we might also consider what questions or concerns a particular meaning of “knowledge” would satisfy. For example, Paul encourages believers to reach for full assurance of understanding and knowledge (Colossians 2:2-3; see the links in the previous paragraph for a fuller discussion). Thus, if we accept what Paul says as true, we ought to have a definition and theory of “knowledge” that aims for that end. An externalist epistemology cannot accomplish that “basic” end. Full assurance can only be had if we are infallibly aware of our epistemic justification, and this is a variety of epistemic internalism.

[Important tangent: most internalists would acknowledge that we don’t always “show” our justification in the sense of an infinite chain of reasons or proofs. For example, a consistent Scripturalist wouldn't attempt to “show” the epistemic justification for his belief in God’s word. For him, God’s word is a axiomatic, not founded on a prior reason. It isn’t provable - so he can’t “show” his justification to anyone else in that sense. Yet unlike an externalist, he can still reflect on or be aware of the justification he has for his belief in it. He can be conscious of God’s word as self-authenticating: God’s word is true, and its own truth suffices for the justification of one's belief in it.]

On the other hand, I think Mark 6:38, 13:28, 15:44-45, etc. (again, see the two links a few paragraphs ago) encode a different meaning of “knowledge” due to their differing contexts - ones that don't require full assurance. In these contexts, an externalist epistemology has potential to provide us with a definition and theory of “knowledge” that aims for a different end than full assurance. Of course, the aim of an externalist epistemology has some overlap with the aim of an internalist epistemology: both would involve “justified” true beliefs, i.e. something more than a lucky, true opinion. Guessing the lottery numbers does not count as knowledge.

Epistemic “justification” is a way of talking about how we non-arbitrarily or non-luckily “track” truth. Epistemic contextualism allows space for there to be different ways in which this is explained. One context - epistemic internalism - affords a definition and theory of “knowledge” which allows for the conscious tracking of truth. That is why an epistemic internalism (like Clark’s, at least broadly considered) is capable of aiming for full assurance. 

By contrast, another context - epistemic externalism - affords a definition and theory of “knowledge” which allows for the unconscious tracking of truth. As such, we cannot be fully assured regarding a given [dispositional] belief we have which was either unconsciously formed or relies on the presence of factors about which we cannot be conscious. On the other hand, that doesn't mean the aims of epistemic externalism are useless:

Externalism is the theory that we can, to varying degrees and depending on the justificatory factors involved, know or be epistemically justified in our beliefs due to something to which we don't have cognitive or reflective access - say, a causal process. We can think about or reflect on a causal process, but we can't re-experience it, whereas we can periodically access or experience the same beliefs. A causal process might be considered able to epistemically justify us because that process in general produces true beliefs in the mind of the person who undergoes it. The causal process tracks truth, whether we are aware of it or not.

That kind of "epistemic justification" allows for the possibility of our knowing what are generally considered "common sense" beliefs. I'm typing on my computer, you're reading a blog post, etc. The causal process by which we know these propositions is usually physical media. But the chain of causes which produce a belief need not be evidentiary reasons for my belief. For example, while God is the ultimate cause of all things, not all people's beliefs will be reasoned from or evidenced by a belief they may have - or, more pertinent to this example, may lack - about God. Similarly, while I may have a sense experience which causes a belief in divine revelation, I needn't infer my belief in divine revelation from a belief about my senses. So if, after a causal process consisting of the examination of textual variants, you believe something to have been divinely revealed, that doesn't require you to epistemically ground your belief regarding the content of divine revelation on a belief about that causal process. Again, I would argue a belief about that or any causal process is itself infallibly defensible only by ultimately appealing to special divine revelation.

That doesn't mean the causal process is irrelevant to your belief. If we have a belief that certain causal processes track truth better than others, it makes sense to position ourselves and those around us to more often experience the better kinds of causal process. If I want you to know about the Grand Canyon, I may talk to you about it or show you a picture of it, but I wouldn't shut your eyes or close your ears while I did those things. I think sense experiences often cause true beliefs. If I want you to know a truth, and if I believe there is a kind of experience which may be useful in producing a true belief, I'll do what I can to help you experience that.

I believe the above illustration provides a fair analogy of how I think we can regard at least one goal of textual criticism. There are textual variants among what copies of Scripture we have. Some do not affect the meaning of a passage. Some are evidently the result of mistranslation. Some are more significant in implication - the variants may affect the meaning of a passage, or they may exhibit disagreement with other texts about whether a passage is even canonical. Thus, while I think the goal of the textual critic shouldn't be to collect texts, compare and contrast them, and use that as an evidentiary basis to infer or reason to what has been specially divinely revealed, there certainly would be use in disposing ourselves and others to a causal process which tracks truth about what has been specially divinely revealed and codified in physical media - in this case, texts. So one function of textual criticism could lie in its capability to cause externalist knowledge of special divine revelation. In any case, there is certainly some apologetic role textual criticism may play within one's worldview, so long as it is remembered that apologetics is subservient to and in fact derives from one's epistemology... (link)

In short, the aim of an internalist theory of knowledge is to explain how we may have “justification” in terms of full assurance. An externalist theory of knowledge cannot explain how one may have “justification” in terms of full assurance - but as long as we don’t need “justification” in terms of full assurance for everyday, unconsciously formed beliefs such as “I'm reading a blog post,” that’s okay. 

The aim of an externalist theory of knowledge is to explain how it is possible that everyday, unconsciously formed beliefs such as “I'm reading a blog post” can be the result of a truth-tracking process and, in that context, count as legitimately “justified.” An internalist theory of knowledge (at least of the infallibilist variety) cannot explain how it is possible that everyday, unconsciously formed beliefs such as “I'm reading a blog post” can be the result of a truth-tracking process and, in that context, count as legitimately “justified” - but as long as we don't need “justification” in such terms for beliefs about which we can have full assurance, that's okay.

Now, the only way we could unconsciously track truth is by nature; if something happens unconsciously, it happens involuntarily (e.g. breathing). As you’ve read this post, you've perhaps been caused to form a [dispositional] belief that “I'm reading a blog post,” a belief that is formed apart from a syllogistic process of reasoning. This happens many times throughout the day. We don't always reason from premises to conclusions, because we don't always form beliefs by tracing them back to axioms or foundations. We often form [dispositional] beliefs without even being aware of it. 

Analogous to the way in which God created us with an obligation to obey him, God may also have created Adam - as morally upright and very good - with a tendency to track truth (even unconsciously). Just as a correct theory of ethical obligation is rooted in a correct ontology, a correct theory of how our beliefs may be causally formed is rooted in a correct ontology. 

Thus, in this context, metaphysics may inform an externalist theory of knowledge without conflating the two. After all, by definition, knowledge involves beliefs (a metaphysical truth). So if we allow that what enables us to track truth is something external to us, then as I mention above in the context of textual criticism, it might be helpful to learn what kinds of actions seem to cause belief in truth. 

Of course, while Adam remained ethically obligated to God after the fall, Adam's (and our) capacity to track truth has been hindered by our sinfulness. Ultimately, this inhibition can only be overcome by the (external!) movement of the Spirit to indwell us. 

Nevertheless, even unbelievers have the ability to track true beliefs (e.g. Mark 15:44-45), even if they cannot have conscious, internalist, infallible justification for them. Since the Spirit works in the hearts of unbelievers by means of Christians He has already indwelt, it is still incumbent upon us to think about what we can do to work in the lives of unbelievers to lead them to the truth. Romans 10:14-17 is a prime example of this.