Thoughts on Contemporary Epistemology

I recently received Contemporary Debates in Epistemology as a birthday present. I was curious was the hot topics are among the epistemologists of today and figured that sooner or later I should branch out my reading if I seriously intend to pursue a degree in philosophy. Anyway, there are eleven topics debated in this book. I won’t go through all of them, not the least reason for which is that I don’t feel I have an adequate grasp of all of them. But among these topics are closure, skepticism [with respect to the external world], contextualism, and infinitism. With so many opinions, it’s hard not to find someone to [dis]agree with. It’s a mixing and matching. You have to read critically, i.e. you can’t just cross someone off for making one point with which you disagree. I disagreed with Dretske regarding closure, yet I think he makes a good argument against contextualism. The same goes for my readers. I’m sure I made bad points. Hopefully, I made some good ones too, and I hope further these points are not overridden by my bad ones. Now then, with respect to this book, you’ll have to get it to read specifics one way or the other, as I’m just going to comment on a few points that were of interest to me:

Closure

Closure is the idea that “If S knows p and knows that p implies q, then S is in a position to know that q” (pg. 2). On the face of it, this seems obviously true. Another author, Richard Fumerton – whose helpful distinction between necessary and sufficient conditions for knowledge I have quoted on this blog before (link) and whose books Epistemology and Metaepistemology and Skepticism would seem to be worth a look – remarked in a footnote of an essay on a different subject that “the bottom line is that if a philosopher advances a view that forces us to reject closure, that should be taken as a reduction of that philosopher’s view” (pg. 96). A very well made and succinct point.

The reasons why one would reject closure, however, make it a worthwhile discussion. One reason to reject closure is that it allegedly makes possible “ordinary knowledge.” If we reject closure, we could in principle know, for example, that “John ate all the cookies” without having to know “There are physical objects,” “There are other minds,” or “The past is real” (pg. 3). “John ate all the cookies” may implies these propositions, but we don’t have to know these propositions to know “John ate all the cookies” if closure is rejected. Likewise, we wouldn’t have to worry so much about Descartes’ demon, solipsism, and recently spontaneously generated universes.

Of course, we could accept closure, these “heavyweight implications” of so-called ordinary knowledge, and on these accounts reject ordinary knowledge as infallibilistic. In fact, as a Scripturalist, that seems highly preferable. Much of what we say or do are not based on beliefs which can’t be mistaken. Clark was right to throw the objection that he couldn’t know his wife back in the faces of his critics. So what if our knowledge of such isn’t infallible? The more interesting question is what knowledge is infallible.

Skepticism

This brings me to the issue of skepticism with respect to the – or perhaps “an” would be less question-begging - external world. Surprisingly – pleasantly surprisingly – the two authors seemed to agree that “we cannot avoid knowledge skepticism with respect to the physical world if we understand knowledge as requiring justification so strong that it eliminates the possibility of error” (pg. 86). [This too was written by Richard Fumerton.] His reference to a sort of justification which would preclude the possibility of error is another allusion to infallibilism, which I wrote about here a few months ago. Scripturalists will do well, I think, to focus on metaepistemology – the definitions of knowledge, epistemic justification, truth, and the like. It may turn out there is more agreement to be had with the scholastic paragons of contemporary epistemology than one could hope for.

Contextualism

If I understand contextualism correctly, it rests either on an equivocation of the meaning of “knowledge” or is a flat contradiction, neither of which is particularly useful. It basically says (pg. 45):

…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.

If there is an equivocation – if what S means by “knowing” she has two hands is different from what the philosopher means when he says S [does not] “know” she has two hands – then rather than preserving knowledge of having two hands, it just highlights that S is probably not squarely facing the skeptic’s challenges (cf. the “heavyweight implications” in the section on Closure above).

Infinitism

Of all the debates I skimmed, this and perhaps the debate on a priori knowledge seemed to arouse the most incredulity from any of the debaters. The ideas that infinitism could be true or that there is no a priori knowledge are, thankfully, seemingly minority positions. With respect to infinitism in particular, the closing paragraphs from the detractor will close out this post (pg. 155):

In my essay I said that the (to my mind) most severe difficulty with Klein’s infinitism is that it is committed to the thesis that inference alone can create justification. Here Klein seems to embrace this commitment wholeheartedly, holding that the longer the chain of inferential justification for a given belief the greater the justification created, and that, if the chain is long enough (but still finite), the justification can “increase to the degree required for knowledge.” This seems to give us the result that knowledge does not require infinitely long chains of inferential justification after all: infinitism gives way to inferentialism. Worse yet, given Klein’s thesis that inferential justification is the only sort of justification there can be, we seem to get the result that one could start with a belief (or set of beliefs) that is totally unjustified, because it lacks any inferential justification, and by spinning out a long enough chain of inference from it reach a belief that has the degree of justification required for knowledge. 

These results are so counterintuitive that I hesitate to attribute them to Klein. But how else are we to interpret the quoted remarks?

Modern Philosophy 4

For the class in Modern Philosophy I'm taking this semester, we have to write 15 two-paged papers (minimum) on philosophers such as Descartes, Hume, Locke, and Leibnitz. In this essay, I wrote about Descartes' Meditations (fifth and sixth). The following is my submission:

In his fifth and sixth meditations, Descartes seeks to apply his epistemological framework to questions relating to the existence of material objects, the contingency of knowledge upon the existence of God, erroneous judgments which originate from sensation, and the various differences between mind and body.

Among that which Descartes perceived as true included mathematics. Descartes wrote that various theorems he had formerly intuited as true were, in fact, necessarily true, not due to his limited imagination, but because the nature of that to which the theorems pertain imposed upon his mind their eternality and immutability. A corollary Descartes constructed yielded a second argument for the existence of God: viz. Descartes could not conceive of a non-existent God because existence is a perfection, a truth imposed onto his mind. God’s essence – a perfect being – must therefore entail His existence and, as such, must exist. Since Descartes’ epistemological foundation is essentially grounded in the concept that God mediates this and all other knowledge to His creation, Descartes observed that all knowledge – including mathematical – is dependent upon God’s existence.

Because a perfect – omnipotent – God exists, Descartes claimed to know that, if nothing else, material objects possibly exist. But as Descartes believed that “all that we clearly and distinctly perceive is true,” in order to adequately justify the actual existence of material objects, he also believed that one must first examine ideas in one’s own consciousness in order to discover which are clear and which are confused. The imagination, writes Descartes, is the special exertion of the cognitive faculty whereby one contemplates some object. Because he claimed to be unaware of a means of contemplation of an object aside from sensation, Descartes asserted that the objects themselves probably exist materially.

Descartes then proceeds to reflect on whether or not the existence of material objects can be known with certainty. Reviewing his former reasons for accepting their existence, he explains that the vividness of sensation impressed upon him the idea that he could not have produced such thoughts and that he could not account for the seeming correlation between his body and feelings (e.g. hunger and stomach pains). But when he considered that he could simply be dreaming, could be deceived, or could even possess a subconscious sixth sense such that these imaginations were factitious, Descartes came to doubt the reliability of sensation. Upon constructing his philosophy, however, Descartes began to reexamine the validity of acquiring knowledge by sensation, and he claimed that God – who is by definition not deceptive – would indeed be deceptive if external objects did not exist, as Descartes claimed to clearly perceive that material objects exist. Moreover, as he was able to clearly differentiate one thing from another, although he knew he possessed a body, he also knew he was, in essence, simply a thinking thing. Still, he claimed that the conjoined nature of the mind-body relation is such that he should not doubt that there is some truth in the various perceived correlations between the mind and body. These are things Descartes claimed to be taught “by nature,” or by impulsive reactions to sensations for the purposes of self-preservation. Due to the finiteness of man and misuse of free will, however, these stimuli can actually hinder self-preservation, for upon further consideration the mind may understand that to follow the inclination is hasty or dangerous.

The question with which Descartes wrestles is: given His existence, why doesn’t a perfect God stop this? In order to answer this question, Descartes briefly compares and contrasts the mind and body. The mind – which is indivisible or unanalyzable – receives impressions from the body – which is divisible – via sensation. God could stop us from feeling pain et. al. by stopping certain sensations, but Descartes notes self-preservation would be hindered, as one wouldn’t know what could harm his person. Descartes observed, however, that the senses are more often reliable than not, and that his memory, understanding, and all other faculties are, when in agreement, able to discover the causes of judgment errors as well as means of prevention: because God does not deceive, what is clear is true, and what can, after careful consideration, be doubted should not be regarded as knowledge. This is Descartes’ epistemic criterion for knowledge.

The primary problem with Descartes’ reasoning is that his epistemic criterion is predicated on his own, fallible thoughts. He writes, for instance:

“I frequently considered many things to be true and certain which other reasons afterward constrained me to reckon as wholly false…will it be that I formerly deemed things to be true and certain which I afterward discovered to be false? But I had no clear and distinct knowledge of any of those things, and, being as yet ignorant of the rule by which I am assured of the truth of a judgment, I was led to give my assent to them on grounds which I afterward discovered were less strong than at the time I imagined them to be.”

If the only way Descartes can know that his perception is not clear is by a modus tollens argument – that is, “because this perception was wrong, I did not actually perceive with clarity” – then he has no grounds upon which to be assured that at some future point in time he will not perceive that his past perceptions were unclear. At best, he can know that his clear perceptions are possibly contradictory, which undermines his entire position.

Modern Philosophy 3

For the class in Modern Philosophy I'm taking this semester, we have to write 15 two-paged papers (minimum) on philosophers such as Descartes, Hume, Locke, and Leibnitz. In this essay, I wrote about Descartes' Meditations (third and fourth). The following is my submission:

Having believed that – through natural reason alone – he had established the certainty of his existence, Descartes begins his third meditation with the intention to show, if possible, what besides one’s own existence is indubitable. In his prefatory comments, Descartes mentions that the purpose of his third meditation is to demonstrate the existence of a perfect being – God – which avoids objections predicated on sensation.

While one may imagine or be deceived into believing in the existence of an external world, consciousness dictates that the particulars of one’s perceptions at least exist in the mind. Descartes uses this to argue that, given his classification of thought as pertaining to images, volitions, or judgments, judgment of ideas as innate, adventitious, or factitious is the point at which most, if not all, errors of the mind can be attributed. For instance, Descartes described his perception of heat as a spontaneous, external stimulus, but notes that he could possess a subconscious sixth sense whereby he produces such perceptions of heat “without the aid of external objects.” Such a hypothetical is representative of the difficulties which forced Descartes to admit he formerly – fallaciously – judged that other entities exist by “blind impulse.”

To circumvent these difficulties, Descartes, to demonstrate the existence of God, argued that ideas are effects which cannot be the product of an idea or existent whose capacity is not equal or superior to the idea itself, and that, since a chain of ideas cannot regress infinitely, a first idea must function as an ontological ground and “archetype” of all other, derivative ideas. Listing several ideas which may indeed be self-induced, Descartes arrives at the idea of a “substance [which is] infinite, [eternal, immutable], independent, all-knowing, all-powerful, [trustworthy], and by which I myself, and every other thing that exists, if any such there be, were created.” This idea, Descartes writes, is too perfect to have originated within his own mind, for, as he perceives that he is not infinite et. al., his apprehension of infinity et. al. must have been caused extrinsically. Moreover, given that any source from which this idea was caused would necessarily have to possess infinitude et. al. in order to be the first cause, God (the being which, by definition, possesses these – and possibly other – perfect attributes) must actually and objectively exist and have innately implanted this idea – or at least the potential for it – within Descartes, whom He conserves. Such an answer explains what perfection entails, how Descartes came to conceptualize it, and how Descartes knows his conception isn’t the result of deception. He ends his third meditation resolved to grow acquainted to reflecting only upon that which he certainly knows, viz. himself in relation to God.

The purpose of fourth meditation was to show that “all which we clearly and distinctly perceive is true” and to discern more clearly the nature of error in reason. So doing, Descartes believed he could validly universalize the clear perceptions of his third meditations so as to refute any who object to his system.

In the beginning of his meditation, Descartes asserts that God has given him a mind which cannot be led to error if utilized correctly – that is, when Descartes keeps at the forefront of his thoughts himself in relation to God. Notwithstanding this assertion, Descartes affirms that he has indeed fallen into error, which seems to imply an impious conclusion: God has bestowed upon him an imperfect mind. Given that Descartes has declared omnipotence to be a perfect attribute – which God must, therefore, possess – Descartes considers why God did not grant him a mind incapable of being deceived or why God allows circumstances to be such as they are, knowing – as God is omniscient – Descartes will be deceived. In essence, Descartes is pondering theodicy.

In reply to own query, Descartes strong-arms such criticisms by providing a blanket response: men are “not always capable of comprehending the reasons why God acts as he does,” nor is such an answer from God obligated. Nevertheless, Descartes offers an indulgent speculation: the idea that man possesses free will, the capacity to choose contraries, appeals to Descartes, as he claims he cannot conceive of anything else which would more capably demonstrate his existence is imprinted with the image of his creator; this might, perhaps, be an allusion to the archetypal argument for God’s existence. Regardless, Descartes uses this to argue that one’s errors stem from one’s own lack of restraint over one’s autonomous judgments. Even if this were this not the case, Descartes states that God’s sovereignty or omnipotence itself functions as the ground for His authority, presumably because God’s purpose in conserving man does not necessarily find its telos in man.

Summarizing the results of his meditation, Descartes writes: “I can never be deceived, because every clear and distinct conception is doubtless something, and as such cannot owe its origin to nothing, but must of necessity have God for its author – God, I say, who, as supremely perfect, cannot, without a contradiction, be the cause of any error; consequently, it is necessary to conclude that every such conception [or judgment] is true.”

The third and fourth meditations provide significant answers to questions relating to the epistemological soundness of Descartes’ “superstructure” which I had after reading the except of his “Discourse on Method” and the beginning of his “Meditations.” If we accept the above summarization as representative of the justificatory basis upon which Descartes makes other claims, Descartes is able, by grounding his epistemology in the ontological existence of God, to purport a sound philosophy of language, a historical account of the means by which he comes to clear and distinct ideas (such as his own existence), and he avoids Hume's "is-ought dilemma" and problems which assume the reliability of memory. He is even able to rebuke the idea that a “deceptive demon has imprinted false thoughts of perfection onto his mind,” as Descartes claims to have clearly perceived a perfect, trustworthy God causes clear perceptions which cannot, by definition (due to origin), be erroneous.

That having been said, Descartes would have done better to realize the purpose of epistemological endeavors should ultimately be self-referential rather than for another’s benefit. The soundness of an epistemological foundation does not rest on the acceptance of it by one who holds an alternate first principle. The atheists who Descartes claimed would have to submit to his reasoning could very well reject Descartes’ epistemology on the basis that Descartes could be lying about what he perceives as “clear and distinct.” After all, they cannot know what Descartes truly thinks, for such reasoning already presupposes Descartes is external. Opining the rejection of his epistemology by atheists should not discourage Descartes; it should simply cause him, if he was honest, to content himself with the self-satisfaction of having demonstrated to himself that which is certainly true.

There are, however, questions Descartes leaves untouched, such as “which God is true?” Surely he opined a diversity of opinion on this matter, but he does not here proceed to a further examination. Also, with regard to his “free will defense” provided against the alleged problem of evil, if Descartes is autonomous, God’s knowledge must necessarily be contingent on actualization of Descartes’ will; as Descartes is a temporal creature, God could not be eternally omniscient. As both free will and God (who is infinite, eternal, immutable, and omniscient) are said to be “clear… conceptions,” atheists could falsify Descartes’ first principle by reducing it to absurdity; hence, Descartes should simply discard the notion of free will, as it is not indubitable.

This implies a greater problem: subjectivity. Descartes’ belief in a proposition inconsistent with his world-view as “clear and distinct” implies a general criticism: in order for a being to claim to know a proposition is indubitable presupposes that he knows it's truth is not contingent or, if it is, said being knows that upon which the veracity of the proposition is contingent. Descartes is admittedly fallible and finitely knowledgeable. Unless, then, Descartes’ grounds his epistemology in the source of God’s revelation – which would, in Descartes’ case, be the Bible – he will seemingly be continually suspect to this criticism.

Modern Philosophy 2

For the class in Modern Philosophy I'm taking this semester, we have to write 15 two-paged papers (minimum) on philosophers such as Descartes, Hume, Locke, and Leibnitz. In this essay, I wrote about Descartes' Meditations (first and second). The following is my submission:

“Discourse on Method” was, essentially, preparation for “Meditations,” an exposition Descartes considered to entail his philosophical superstructure. In it, Descartes purposes to prove the existence of God and the immortality of the soul by means of unprejudiced reason. He believed that while faith is sufficient for religious men, common, indubitable premises must be utilized against unbelievers so as to show them to be without excuse for any continuance in practicing moral relativism.

In his summarization of his meditations, Descartes, in accordance with his method, outlined – in orderly fashion – the means by which he believed he could achieve certainty. Insofar as the synopsis pertains to his first and second meditations, Descartes asserted that one should firstly cast a skeptical eye on those things one holds to be true. So doing, that which is shown to be indisputable is made evident. The allegedly indisputable proposition for which Descartes argues is that mind which doubts self-evidently exists, whereby one is able to discern what the mind is in relation to the so-called body and that it is fallacious to assert that with death comes the annihilation of the mind.

In his first meditation, Descartes laid out his particular reasons for doubting those things which he formerly believed. Firstly, he was desirous of ridding himself of opinions which are uncertain. Descartes noted that because the senses sometimes convey to us deceptive information, one cannot be sure that any proposition said to be grounded in a sensation is not instead the result of insanity or dreaming. Even so, Descartes claims that it is sensible to suggest that what one perceives itself represents something (reality, one’s own imagination, etc.). Moreover, he argues that some principles apply in both reality and one’s own imagination – for instance, mathematics – in which case we know these things are certain. Given that others are sometimes in error when they think they are not, however, Descartes rhetorically questions how he can validly avoid such a dilemma. Upon consideration, he declares that what he has considered thus far are remarks which can at best only have a probability of being true, and for that reason they cannot be trusted. He concludes the first meditation defiantly, stating that the possibility of a virtually omnipotent and deceptive demon will not force him to judge that which is doubtful to be true.

In his second meditation, Descartes continues with the hypothesis that a demon is deceiving him. Descartes states that one thing of which he will never be convinced is that so long as he is conscious, he is some existent. The next question, then, is what “he” is. He begins by describing what he formerly believed he was: a man. Upon reflection, however, Descartes admits a certain circularity in language which would be infinitely difficult to explain the meaning of words with words. Passing from this question, he proceeds to ask what is or are the attribute[s] of the soul, and on this point Descartes is optimistic that he may also make headway into the question of his essence. So long as he thinks, he exists; hence, it is that differentiae which describe what he is: a thinking thing, a thing whose reflexive consciousness is not dependent on anything else. A thinking thing is, says Descartes, a thing that by nature “doubts, understands, [conceives], affirms, denies, wills, refuses; that imagines also, and perceives,” as each of these refers to capacities which cannot be disassociated from thought. Descartes proceeds to discuss the essence of allegedly physical bodies, bodies which, even if they change, remain the same in essence. The difficulty in explaining the reason for this intuition is exacerbated by the problem of language, yet Descartes believed that one who seeks true knowledge should not doubt that common speech can adequately function for these purposes; hence, Descartes concludes that what is applicable to the essence of bodies is even more applicable to his own essence (which is certain), which is to say that because the essence of the mind is immutable, it is even more certain that it is immortal and independent from the body.

Descartes obviously did not believe that everything should be doubted, for if that were the case, he would have no means by which he could escape doubt. At best, Descartes would be inconsistent with his own demands, for he presupposes his method and logical principles. While his strict adherence to high standards of what constitutes as knowledge is admirable, this qualification may be problematic, as Descartes does not explicitly show how his method or logical principles are indubitable.

In fact, that Descartes purports that propositions should be indubitable – otherwise, he would doubt them – implies that one’s first principle(s) from which he deduces his system should also be indubitable. But Descartes fails to provide a criterion according to which a first principle – a proposition which is by definition not derived – is indubitable. The other case may be that Descartes is implying that the truth of any proposition is contingent on the existence and validation of prior premises. Because premises are also propositions, however, this would imply a justificatory process which cannot be completed, yielding self-defeating skepticism.

A related problem due to Descartes’ methodology is that he seemingly approaches the question of knowledge ontologically rather than epistemologically; because he has not clearly explained his first principle(s), throughout his monologue, it at least appears he begs the question by continually referring to a reflexive essence without justifying the means by which he knows such an essence exists. It is unclear as to whether Descartes’ claim regarding the existence of his essence is an indubitable resultant from a series of premises according to which the claim is supposed to be justified, or if Descartes is simply explaining the historical process by which he came to believe his first principle. If the former case is true, Descartes’ first principle(s) is or are unclear. If the latter case is true, Descartes is describing a historical process which he does not justify by his first principle.

A final noticeable problem is itself alluded to within the meditations: that of language. Descartes notes, when attempting to define what is man, that using words to define words does not explain how concepts are mediated to the conscious. He glosses over this problem, only to face it again when attempting to define a “thinking thing.” It may be the case that this and other problems are referenced by Descartes in other parts of his work, but these are what I perceive to be the extant problems inherent to Descartes philosophical system.

Modern Philosophy 1

For the class in Modern Philosophy I'm taking this semester, we have to write 15 two-paged papers (minimum) on philosophers such as Descartes, Hume, Locke, and Leibnitz. In this essay, I wrote about Francis Bacon's First Aphorisms (1-3, 11-31, 36-46), Galileo's Corpuscularianism, and Descartes' Discourse on Method (Part 1, 2, and 5). The following was my submission:

Galileo, in a letter to the Roman Catholic church, defended the idea that motion causes heat and rather than the idea heat is a quality intrinsic to an object. To bolster this assertion, Galileo argued that an analogy exists between heat and tastes, odors, colors, etc. insofar as “if the perceiving creatures were removed, all of these qualities would be annihilated and abolished from existence.” Our senses are thusly said to be subjective – as different body can be affected differently by one object – and relative to that with which we physically interact.

The problems with Galileo’s philosophy of science are vast, yet as it was not Galileo’s purpose to defend empiricism, it would be unreasonable to have expected a full explanation of his views. Still, Galileo’s fallacious argumentation at certain points in his exposition are not irrelevant to his conclusion. For example, Galileo states that he “cannot believe that there exists in external bodies anything, other than their size, shape, or motion (slow or rapid), which could excite in us our tastes, sounds, and odors.” At best, this conclusion is a result of a finite number of observations. The first problem is that the idea further observations cannot yield contrary, convincing data is question-begging. The second problem is that the very method by which Galileo purports to ascribe causation to motion is questionable, as any observation he makes would, at best, demonstrate a correlation exists between two observed events. There could, for instance, conceivably be an as yet unobserved cause for heat, just as there could be an as yet unobserved instance of heat without motion. Any protestation to the contrary encounters the third and final problem: even if Galileo stated motion causes heat within the context of specific observations, his assertion is a proposition which is predicated upon the supposition he has accounted for all possible unknown variables – such as optical illusions – which could bias his observation. As this supposition in turn implies omniscience and infinite knowledge, however, Galileo cannot state as fact any proposition unless either he is omniscient and infinitely knowledgeable or he has his account from a source which is. The burden of proof is on Galileo to demonstrate that to be the case, which he does not; hence, his contention that motion causes heat is unsound.

A generalization of this third criticism can also be applied to Rene Descartes and Francis Bacon. Bacon was, as is evident from his first aphorism, an empiricist; that is, he believed all possible knowledge is and can only be derived from one’s experience with the natural world by means of sensation of particulars. His emphasis on the novel utilization of nature stems from the concept that increase in knowledge comes only by that means. Against contemporary skeptics and rationalists, Bacon argued that one can validly establish general propositions by gradual – inductive – steps. Bacon also indirectly implies science is not a matter of opinion when, in a rejection of the subjective nature of anticipations, he contrasts science with matters of opinion. He states that he is a guide to truth rather than a judge of it, as the only way to teach or guide men to that which is true is by showing them the relevant particulars in question. In light of Bacon’s belief that certainty can be achieved, he stated four “idols” – empty dogmas – about which men should be aware. In sum, these “idols” are intended to warn the reader to check the soundness of his motives, as man’s nature, temporary preoccupations, attraction to vanity, or presuppositions can unfavorably bias his observations.

In addition to the aforementioned problem inherent to empiricism, the most obvious objection to Bacon’s epistemological understanding is that the very “idols” he cites are double edged, for, while we only read a small selection of his work, Bacon does not explain by what method he purports to avoid those “idols” such that he can validly assert to have supplied help to the “authority of the senses and understanding.” In light of his conclusions – “the spirit of man is in fact a thing variable and full of perturbation, and governed as it were by chance,” “human understanding when it has once adopted an opinion…draws all things else to support and agree with it…though there be a greater number and weight of instances to be found on the other side,” etc. – any criticisms he makes against sophists on these grounds could seemingly be applied to him in a “tu quoque” fashion.

Descartes’ apparent humility in his opening remarks – he admitted he could be wrong – can disarm critiques from reading too much into Descartes’ thoughts. Descartes went so far as to suggest those who are unlearned or easily swayed into hasty reforms shouldn’t “strip away all the opinions which one has previously absorbed.” In general, however, as Descartes believed all men possess the capacity to reason equally well, he believed that his method, which follows four, uncompromising rules, could be helpful: essentially, one should accept only what is certain, completely analyze any problems, and conduct thoughts in an orderly and thorough manner. By this method, Descartes believed that one could increase his knowledge in all sciences, whereas he had previously doubted the validity of his traditions and customs, in part due to his academic study and in part due to the fact he believed that the ridiculousness of common beliefs in other cultures could very well apply to his own.

Despite his belief almost all philosophies have been somewhere espoused, Descartes defended his method on the ground that that ad populum arguments are fallacious, so on that account one needn’t concern oneself with the validity of the idea oneself should judge what is true. Moreover, Descartes also believed careful elucidation of a philosophy by one person is often more lucid than those constructed by several, which functioned to solidify his assurance in his method. He analogized the construction of a philosophy to the building of a house: a single architect will fare better than multiple, as there is no one to dispute with except oneself. As such, the architect is free to tear down and build up whatever he chooses, and can examine the foundations such that he knows when the structure is sound. He firmly believed that by this means he “would be successful in conducting [his] life better than if he built only on the old foundations and relied only on principles which [he] had been persuaded to accept in [his] youth, without having examined whether they were true.”

In an example of an application of his method, Descartes argued that animals and machines can be distinguished from humans, because neither will never be able to communicate as we do, and neither possess the capacity to reason to the extent humans do. Both would otherwise be able to initiate interaction with us. Hence, the soul of animals is not of the same nature as our own, so cannot be used as an excuse that an afterlife is nonexistent. Our souls, which are independent of the body, are not “subject to dying along with the body,” i.e. human souls are immortal.

Aside from the aforementioned problem of omniscience and infinite knowledge, a problem with his method is that, as Descartes admits, it could be wrong. The criteria according to which he evaluates propositions is seemingly accepted as axiomatic. If this be so, Descartes does not show how these criteria are internally consistent – that is, accounted for – within his world-view. At this point, he seems to fall into the error of accepting what is commonly supposed for no other reason than it is commonly supposed. The other problem is that when it comes to the actual application of his method, Descartes’ argumentation is rather sloppy. Differentiating between particulars in the nature of human and animal souls does not necessarily imply that our souls are different in toto; that is, the fact that animals do not have minds like ours does not establish our souls are not intrinsically related to our bodies. At most, it would establish our souls are not intrinsically related to animal bodies. Or, if these propositions were meant to be disconnected, Descartes fails to substantiate his conclusion.