Monkey See, Monkey Don't

I recently talked to someone who observed that Eastern Orthodox apologists have, in the past decade or so, been more apt to try appropriating Reformed apologetics. I've witnessed the same tendency in the likes of Jay Dyer, Joshua Schooping (before he became disillusioned regarding Eastern Orthodoxy), and others I've happened across now and then.

Truth is attractive; hence, many of these Eastern Orthodox apologists once nominally identified as Reformed Christians. As for what reason those who identify as formerly Reformed fall away from the truth, I give some possible reasons here. Regardless, on one level, that such persons retain some truths they learned even after public deconversion is unsurprising. On another level, it is surprising that such apologists have not, by and large, critically self-reflected on whether a fundamentally Reformed apologetic can makes sense within the context of a non-Reformed faith. 

For example, I was recently linked to this article by an Eastern Orthodox philosopher name Erik Sorem. A glaring omission in it - and in Eastern Orthodox apologetics in general - is the connection between apologetics and anthropology. For the Reformed presuppositionalist, one practical purpose for apologetics may be to undermine the false confidence of unbelievers. However, the Reformed Christian acknowledges that man's sinful rebelliousness to God cannot solely be overcome by argumentation. Because of the extent of man's sinfulness, the Holy Spirit must graciously change the mind of the rebellious apart from the help of the rebellious. There is no synergy in regeneration.

By comparison, the author of this article rightly denies the concept of epistemic neutrality but fails to situate the explanation for his denial within the context of a Reformed anthropology, particularly the doctrine of original sin. Thus, the Eastern Orthodox apologist may try to borrow from Reformed apologetics, but their denial of the need for monergistic regeneration both understates man's sinfulness and thereby undercuts any nominal agreement that an "autonomous" epistemology will be false. Gordon Clark didn't write about Eastern Orthodoxy very much, but here's one reference that brings with it a useful reminder:

Eastern orthodoxy stresses the rational nature of man and insists that man remains man after the fall. So far, so good. But the value of this sound position is vitiated by the Eastern churches' failure to recognize the extent of the fall and therefore their inability to see the full need of grace. Some of their theologians toy with a verbally pleasing analogy: as God became man, so man will become God. This is similar to the Gnostic notion that salvation is deification. Partly because of this, some very conservative Protestants have reacted against the identification of the image as reason, believing that this identification implies a superficial view of sin. The implication, however, is fallacious and the reaction extreme. (link)

Speaking of Clark, in my experience, most Eastern Orthodox apologists find their roots in other presuppositionalists such as Bahnsen, Frame, or Van Til (cf. Sorem's article above). Thus, some Eastern Orthodox apologists are unaware that grounding one's justification for belief in the Trinity in Scripture makes more sense than grounding one's justification for belief in Scripture in the Trinity (link; cf. my discussion of transcendental argumentation here and here). 

Of course, there is no question that the Trinity ontologically precede the Scriptures, but I have never witnessed one who takes the Trinity as his epistemic foundation be able to deduce, say, the canon of Scripture. On the other hand, one who takes Scripture as his epistemic foundation may be able to deduce the doctrine of the Trinity. The upshot of this is that presuppositionalism is tied to the doctrines of sola scriptura, perspicuity, self-authenticity, etc. As with the anthropological objection, this epistemic foundations objection is fatal to Eastern Orthodox apologetics and the epistemology its apologists try to defend. 

Such are the general problems with Eastern Orthodox persons who attempt to co-opt presuppositionalism. There are more particular problems I've observed, ones which stem from attempting to follow the Van Tilian brand of presuppositionalism (as all the Eastern Orthodox apologists I have in mind tend to do). 

For instance, I don't know to what extent Eastern Orthodox apologists are familiar with contemporary epistemology - in some cases, self-admittedly not (see Jay Dyer at minute mark 2:03:00 here, for example) - but what I tend to read or hear basic mistakes such as what the meaning of classical foundationalism even is! 

Classical foundationalism is a theory regarding the structure of epistemic justification. In contrast to Sorem's apparent misunderstanding (in which he writes, "Presuppositional apologetics, first and foremost rejected...  classical foundationalism"; see pg. 12ff of his article), foundationalism as such says nothing about whether such justificatory foundations are or must be "autonomous" or "theonomous." Sorem uses the guilt by association fallacy and/or genetic fallacy when he dismisses classical foundationalism seemingly for no other reason than that Aristotle accepted natural theology, that empiricism is flawed, etc. It is painfully apparent Sorem is unaware of theistic foundationalists such as Gordon Clark. 

Ironically, the sort of coherentism Sorem goes on to espouse (see footnote 28) itself collapses into foundationalism, as epistemologists such as Peter Klein have noted: 

The function of the type of reasoning we are considering is to enhance the epistemic status of our belief-states with their propositional contents, and circular reasoning cannot do that. It might appear that some progress has been made when a reason for y, namely x, is offered, but when it turns out that the reason for x is nothing other than y, it is pyrrhic progress.

The second, more plausible form of coherentism - emergent of holistic coherentism - holds that when our reasons have a reciprocal structure they are all at least prima facie justified. The epistemic status of all members of the coherent set is determined by the degree to which the propositions in the set are R-related plus, perhaps, some other properties obtaining. If x and y are members of the coherent set {x, y, ...} and xRy and yRx, it is not x that makes y justified and it is not y that makes x justified, rather what contributes to making each of them justified is that they are members of a coherent set. Being a member of such a set makes them prima facie justified, or, at least contributes significantly to each being prima facie justified (see BonJour 1989). I will not contest that in this paper. What is important to see here is that emergent coherentism, as Ernest Sosa has shown, is a form of foundationalism (Sosa, 1980). The foundational property is being a member of a coherent set of propositions. This form of coherentism is just as much a foundationalist account as, say, an account that takes all believed propositions which represent my conscious mental states as (at least) prima facie justified. Thus, any rapprochement with foundationalism is applicable to emergent coherentism as well." (Klein, Ad Infinitum, pgs. 110-111)

Likewise, Jay Dyer also misunderstands this (see ~minute mark 1:43:00 in the aforementioned video). This is especially inexcusable in that both Dyer and Sorem are aware of and have approvingly cited a paper that makes the same point Klein does above! Both of the apologists recommend Russell Manion's "The Contingency of Knowledge and Revelatory Theism," in which he writes:

Circularity is also not satisfactory, but it is much more interesting. Advocates of a philosophical position called coherentism think they have beaten the foundation dilemma. They point out that beliefs do not neatly divide into the categories of foundational beliefs and justified beliefs. All our beliefs are related to one another in the form of a coherent web. Some subset of our beliefs may be more important and juridical than other beliefs, but all beliefs hang on all other beliefs, and nothing is foundational. 

But as Michael Depaul in his article “Coherentism” points out, coherentism really doesn’t escape the foundational problem at all. It is simply another “version of foundationalism that holds all beliefs to be foundational.” (link)

Further, Dyer and Sorem also miss the important difference between one's having noninferential knowledge and one's defending said knowledge (link, link, link). The structure of one's knowledge - assuming one has "knowledge" (and here I am speaking of "knowledge" about which one may have infallible assurance) - must be founded on divine revelation. 

Now, any defense of our knowledge will of course presuppose that we do indeed have knowledge, but this just means that our defenses or articulations of of our epistemology will ultimately derive from our said foundation, our belief in which is intrinsically justified and meaningful.

So even if circularity appears in one's apologetic argumentation - as Clark might put it, axioms leads to certain theorems, and theorems can help inform whether an axiom has confirmatory evidence or is disconfirmed (e.g. Clark and His Critics, 2007, pg. 53) - it is nevertheless true that we can know the epistemic foundation of revelation without requiring an argument for it. As I suggested earlier, Eastern Orthodox confusion on these points may stem from that they generally follow Van Tilian presuppositionalism, apologists who have discussed epistemic justification in terms of coherence or circularity (e.g. link). 

A side point: contemporary epistemologists such as Richard Fumerton also make use of what are called "conceptual regress arguments" (which are distinct from justificatory regress arguments) to illustrate that the meaning of terms must be intrinsic:

Consider an analogy. One of the earliest distinctions made in ethics is the distinction between different ways in which something can be good. Some things, like taking blood-pressure medication, are good only as a means to something else that is good (perhaps health of the happiness that comes from being in good health). But, one might argue, it can't be the case the everything that is good is good only as means to something else that is good. While we can (partially) define being good as a means in terms of having good outcomes, we cannot complete our definition of goodness this way. To find, even in thought, the source of goodness, we need to form the thought of something that is good in itself (intrinsically good, good just in virtue of what it is).

The suggestion here is that inferential justification stands to noninferential justification as being good as a means stands to being good in itself. (Foundationalism, Cambridge Elements in Epistemology, pg. 8)

Now, Clark and I might nuance where meaning is to be found (e.g. propositions vs. concepts) - and Fumerton in particular might not quarrel with this - but in any case, anyone who has read Clark's book on John Dewey (1963) will recognize Clark's critique of Instrumentalism to be essentially the same as what Fumerton here states. Fumerton also gives the helpful example on the same page of the above work of what it means to be a "descendant": it is to be a child of someone, or a child of a child of someone, or a child of a child of a child of someone, etc. At some point, the ancestor has to make an appearance for it to be meaningful to call a person a "descendant." Recursion eventually bottoms out in foundations.

I'll add to what Fumerton says against an implicitly infinitist view of meaning. When we ask someone to explain what they mean by something like "goodness," we tend to have the expectation that the definiendum won't occur in any attempted definition. If I ask, "what is free choice?" and an Arminian responds, "the ability to choose" (which happened quite often when I used to dialogue with Arminians), I would have to point out that they are repeating what I am asking for them to define (the definiendum) in their attempted definition. That is, such an Arminian has not made any clearer what they mean by "free choice." Of course, I would not childishly ask them to define "free choice" ad infinitum, but the goal was, at some point, to consider a stated definition as symbolizing an intrinsically meaningful proposition... and this is a strike against a circularist view of meaning which, by analogy, helps argue a case for epistemic foundationalism over against epistemic coherentism.

Finally, suppose an Eastern Orthodox apologist were to attempt to reformulate presuppositionalism to be more in line with Clark's view. If they're willing to copy one Reformed view, why not a better one? If one monkey sees another swinging like an Olympic gymnast from one branch of philosophy, he might think to try to graft that branch onto his own tree. Well, because philosophy is interconnected, the monkey's attempt to graft the good branch onto a rotten tree won't take. How much less successful the subsequent mental gymnastics will be as the monkey tries and fails to swing from that branch!

That is, I've already outlined tensions regarding the anthropology and the doctrine of Scripture of Eastern orthodoxy and its presuppositionalist embezzelment. But an Eastern Orthodox apologist has further problems given their theology proper, some of which I've already outlined here and will continue to build a case against now. For instance, take a look at what Eastern Orthodox apologist Perry Robinson admits:

For my part, I affirm rather that God is more than his revelation to put it in biblical terms. Contrary to the Reformed (and the Lutherans) and Rome, metaphysics applies to everything except God ad intra, which is why for them theology is a science and for us it is about the spiritual life in Christ. (link)

This is quite similar to what Eduard Borysov says in "The Doctrine of Deification in the Works of Pavel Florensky and John Meyendorff: A Critical Examination" (Greek Orthodox Theological Review, 2011):

Palamas's theology of energies, according to Meyendorff, has no philosophical rationale behind it. However, one should not forget that the philosophical notions of hypostasis, nature, and energies played a key role in the Christological controversies and had become the basic principles for Palamas's theology proper as well as his soteriology. God is, by definition, unrelated to and above any essence, hence he is unknown by any essence. (Gregory Palamas, Gregory Palamas: The Triads, § 3.2.24, ed. John Meyendorff, trans. Nicholas Gendle (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1983), 95)

Borysov extends the logic of Robinson's statement: insofar as metaphysics and epistemology are intertwined, to say that there can be no divine metaphysics means there can be no knowledge of God. Now compare these statements to what Eastern Orthodox theologian Vladimir Lossky says:

All the Fathers of the Church, both of East and of West, are agreed in seeing a certain co-ordination, a primordial correspondence between the being of man and the being of God in the fact of the creation of man in the image and likeness of God. (The Mystical Theology of the Eastern Church, pg. 114)

Robinson and Borysov's statements on metaphysics and epistemology logically extend to anthropology. If metaphysics don't apply to God such that He is unrelated to and above mankind, then there is no "correspondence," "image," or "likeness" of God in man. Considering the emphases Eastern Orthodox apologists tend to put on the early church fathers, it is almost as if the Eastern Orthodox position doesn't cohere at all! Now, where does this finally lead? Palamas says:

...God is not only beyond knowledge, but also beyond unknowing; His revelation itself is also truly a mystery of a most divine and extraordinary kind, since the divine manifestations, even if symbolic, remain unknowable by reason of their transcendence. They appear, in fact, according to a law which is not appropriate to either human or divine nature - being, as it were, for us yet beyond us - so that no name can properly describe them. (The Triads, pg. 32)

Following the logic all the way down, the doctrine of Scripture (and divine revelation) is also destructed. The disharmony of Eastern Orthodoxy leads its apologists to defend they know not what. What one needs for a coherent worldview is not Neo-Orthodoxy or Eastern Orthodoxy but Scriptural orthodoxy:

In reaction against the optimistic modernism of the nineteenth century, contemporary neo-orthodoxy (q.v.) has insisted on the transcendence of God. But it has distorted the biblical concept of transcendence to the degree of making God completely unknowable. Some of their phraseology may be repeated as examples. God has been called the Wholly-Other. Brunner writes, “God can, when he wants to, speak his word even through false doctrine.” Another author denies that a proposition can have the same meaning for man as it does for God. Several theologians collaborated to say that “we dare not maintain that his (God’s) knowledge and our knowledge coincide at any single point.”

Now, it seems obvious that if a man knows any truth at all, he must know a truth that God knows, for God knows all truths. A sentence must mean to a man who knows its meaning precisely what it means to God; for if the man does not know God’s meaning, he does not know the meaning of the sentence. Hence, if man is to know anything, it cannot be denied that there are points of coincidence between human and divine knowledge. Similarly God cannot be Wholly-Other, for this would deny that man was created in the image of God. (link)

For those interested in further reading, I recommend Steve Hays's interactions with EO apologists; e.g. on the issue of divine transcendence, see here.

The Problem of the Criterion

In the process of reviewing Shawn Lazar's book, Scripturalism and the Senses, I came across the following statement:

Reformed Epistemology provides Neo-Scripturalism with a better definition of knowledge. As you may remember, Nash criticized Clark for having an idiosyncratic definition of knowledge, that it was too narrow, reducing most of what we know (or claim to know) to skepticism, such as beliefs that we are married we children. With the help of Reformed Epistemology, Neo-Scripturalism can better account for what is popularly taken as knowledge.

Whether a definition of "knowledge" Plantinga et al. have provided actually is "better" than what Clark proposed is something I will address elsewhere. My primary interest is Mr. Lazar's justification for his conclusion. He thinks the definition he outlines in his book "can better account for what is popularly taken as knowledge."

Why this interests me is that it reminds me of the "Problem of the Criterion." I first remember reading about the Problem of the Criterion in a paper by Richard Fumerton (link), my introduction to present day epistemological discussions. So this was one of the first issues that caught my attention and led to me considering Scripturalism in contemporary contexts. It has been a long time, but if I recall correctly, it was also from this paper that I was inspired to think about necessary and sufficient conditions for knowledge (link, link).

At any rate, there seems to be a hidden assumption implicit in the above quote. After all, why should one care "what is popularly taken as knowledge"? Are Mr. Lazar and Nash prepared to dismiss any views that are generally unpopular... like Reformed theology itself? I doubt it. It seems to me (and I think Mr. Lazar and Nash would agree) that the important questions in the field of epistemology have little to do with adjusting a definition of "knowledge" to fit what the majority think is true.

So what did Mr. Lazar really mean? If I have misunderstood Mr. Lazar, Nash, and others, they are free to correct me on what criticism of Clark's definition is really intended. But even if that is the case, the following considerations are worthy in their own right. Assuming I am correct, I believe that what may drive Mr. Lazar, Nash, and others away from Clark on this point is the hidden assumption of epistemic particularism. Epistemic particularism is one answer to the Problem of the Criterion:

...perhaps the best way to formulate the Problem of the Criterion in its most general form is with the following pair of questions (Cling (1994) and McCain and Rowley (2014)):

(1) Which propositions are true?

(2) How can we tell which propositions are true? 

...These are not questions about the nature of truth itself. Rather, these are epistemological questions concerning which propositions we should think are true and what the correct criteria are for determining whether a proposition should be accepted as true or false. It is possible that one could have answers to these questions without possessing any particular theory of truth, or even taking a stand at all as to the correct theory of truth. Additionally, it is possible to have a well-developed theory of the nature of truth without having an answer to either (1) or (2). So, the issue at the heart of the Problem of the Criterion is how to start our epistemological theorizing in the correct way, not how to discover a theory of the nature of truth.

...The problem yielded by the Problem of the Criterion arises because one might plausibly think that we cannot answer (1) until we have an answer to (2), but we cannot answer (2) until we have an answer to (1). So, at least initially, consideration of the Problem of the Criterion makes it seem that we cannot get our theorizing started at all. This seems to land us in a pretty extreme form of skepticism—we cannot even begin the project of trying to determine which propositions to accept as true... 

According to Chisholm, there are only three responses to the Problem of the Criterion: particularism, methodism, and skepticism. The particularist assumes an answer to (1) and then uses that to answer (2), whereas the methodist assumes an answer to (2) and then uses that to answer (1). The skeptic claims that you cannot answer (1) without first having an answer to (2) and you cannot answer (2) without first having an answer to (1), and so you cannot answer either. Chisholm claims that, unfortunately, regardless of which of these responses to the Problem of the Criterion we adopt we are forced to beg the question... (link)

I will deal with Chisholm's claim that all responses are question-begging a little later. For now, the point is that Mr. Lazar's, Nash's, and others' aversion to (or, in some cases, derision of) Clark's definition of "knowledge" seems to stem, at least in part, from Clark being unable to say that he "knew" his wife. The various arguments seems to run as follows: people intuitively find [and should very much like to think] that they "know" their wives, and so any definition of knowledge which rules such out is "too narrow" (i.e. worse than one which does not rule such out). Others likewise have such intuitions, which is why such knowledge-claims about the subject are popular. All of this sounds like epistemic particularism:

Particularism: Assume an answer to (1) (accept some set of propositions as true) that does not depend on an answer to (2) and use the answer to (1) to answer (2).

That is, one begins with what counts as "knowledge" (1) and then attempts to formulate an understanding of how he "knows" such (2). That is, since we "know" our wives (1), let's talk about how we can tell that we "know" them (2). Here is the main problem epistemic particularists must face:

...The problem with particularism is that the particularist’s starting point is an unfounded assumption. Particularism starts with a set of particular propositions and works from there. If the particularist goes beyond that set of particular propositions to provide reasons for accepting them, she abandons that particularist response and either picks a new set of particular propositions to assume (a new particularist response) or picks something other than simply a new set of only particular propositions to assume and ceases to be a particularist.

In other words, if one begins his theorizing by saying "I know my wife," one can't very well provide reasons to justify the claim. For any such attempt to justify this claim would be theory-laden, grounded in the very particularist claim about being able to know his wife in the first place. 

Thus, I could say "I know you don't have a wife" and construct a theory of "knowledge" on the basis of that [and perhaps other] particularist claim[s]. I would then be a particularist whose propositional content is in direct conflict particularists like Mr. Lazar and Nash. Since neither claim would seem to be in a better position than the other - precisely because both conflicting claims were themselves the starting points for any further theorizing about how one can tell what "knowledge" even is - it doesn't appear possible for a third party adjudicate between the conflicting claims without first appealing to a methodology.

Before deciding whether or not this argument against particularism is a strong one, let us turn to methodism, for Chisholm also describes the methodist answer to the Problem of the Criterion as question-begging:

Methodism: Assume an answer to (2) (accept some criterion to be a correct criterion of truth – one that successfully discriminates true propositions from false ones) that does not depend on an answer to (1) and use the answer to (2) to answer (1).

Since methodism begins by assuming that some criterion is a correct criterion of truth without providing any epistemic reason to prefer this response to the alternatives, it begs the question against particularism and skepticism.

The methodist would propose a criterion by which one could determine whether or not one is married. This avoids the above dilemma that conflicting particularists may face. However, does it not run into an analogous problem? What if one proposes a different criterion for knowing truth than another? How can such a conflict be any more resolvable than epistemic particularism? 

Again, before attempting to answer any of these questions, I think it is worth noting that Clark affirmed methodism:

Physicists used to say that light consisted of ether waves. Today it is generally agreed that the methods used were defective, and that light is something else (they don’t quite know what). Hence even if botany or theology is written first, it cannot be accepted by a scholar until the crucial question is answered: How do you know? In a systematic treatment, the methodology ought to come first. Instead of asking, What is a cactus? or What is light? someone asks, What is God? How can one go about answering that question? Do we consult the Koran or the Vedas? Do we study the stars? Do we send a questionnaire to a thousand college professors? A method must be chosen (or used unwittingly) before any answer is forthcoming. Henry’s method is to consult the Bible and from it deduce that God is a spirit, infinite, eternal, unchangeable. We cannot start with God; we must start with the Bible. Why not say so first and then proceed to the theology the Bible teaches. (God’s Hammer, 1995, pg. 178)

But to return to the main subject: What one learns first from the Bible and what he learns second and third varies from man to man. One person begins with Genesis; another begins with Matthew. Similarly, a man may learn several propositions about God without reflecting on the method by which he learned them. Musicians and painters usually produce good works of art before they understand the theory. Hence in temporal psychology a knowledge of God precedes a knowledge of method. But to explain this process an apologist ought to start with the methodology. For while the unreflective reader may be unaware of the methodology – he may not realize how he does what he does – he nonetheless uses the method. And for Clark and Henry the method is Scriptural. (God’s Hammer, 1995, pg. 179, 184-186)

[As an aside, Clark's statement that "a knowledge of God precedes a knowledge of method" is interesting. It seems that in this context, Clark is affirming doxastic justification as parasitic on propositional justification (link). As will be seen in a below quote, Clark is concerned 1) that a learner is made aware, by the apologist, that he has a method as well as 2) that the learner is using the "right method." 

I am tempted to relate this to my recent reflections on Clark's view of "natural knowledge" (link) in that while Clark argued that heathens could possess such - at least, on a definition of "knowledge" as "true belief" - the apologist's job is to ensure that one begins to reflect on what "knowledge of God" they have (a la Acts 17). When this is accomplished and the learner is brought to acceptance of the right method of Scripture as his rule of faith and known, by grace through the work of the Holy Spirit, one's "knowledge" can be elevated to an epistemic status that allows for full assurance. Perhaps that oversteps a historical characterization of Clark's own thought, but if so, it would be how I personally would develop Clark's epistemology.]

I imagine Clark would identify "intuition" as the implicit method of epistemic particularists. Regardless, this would also help to account for why some's concerns for being able to know their wives were of no concern to Clark:

Granted, it is unlikely that anyone should go to such extremes to substitute another woman for the wife of an unimportant theologian or philosopher. But how do you know? So long as substitution is possible, certainty is impossible. (Clark and His Critics, 2009, pg. 75)

What, then, can we say to all the worries of question-begging? My own view of the entire situation is best answered after mentioning the "last" option to the Problem of the Criterion:

Skepticism: Assume that (i) there is no independent answer to (1) or (2), and (ii) if (1) and (2) cannot be answered independently, they cannot be answered at all.

Now, recall earlier Chisholm's claim that "unfortunately, regardless of which of these responses to the Problem of the Criterion we adopt we are forced to beg the question." The careful reader will notice that out of the three options stated thus far - particularism, methodism, and skepticism - one more option has been left out. Reread the above skeptical response without (ii). 

Perhaps there is no independent answer to (1) or (2). Even so, such does not need to be viewed as problematic, because to answer (1) and (2) simultaneously is indeed, contra skepticism (which, I think, is itself a self-referentially incoherent position to take on the question), an answer.

Thus, do we construct a definition of knowledge to capture experiences that intuitively seem to belong together (particularism)? Or do we begin with a definition by which we categorize particular experiences (methodism)? This is a false dilemma. Why? Because a methodological criterion for knowledge can itself be [particularly] known. Is it not question-begging to assume otherwise?

I can imagine a few objections to this, most of which spiral out of discussing the Problem of the Criterion itself. The most relevant criticism might be if one argued that what I am proposing is little different than those who identify solely as epistemic particularists or methodists. 

In response, obvious differences between must be highlighted. Stating that "I am married" is an instance of "knowledge," not a method for arriving at other other knowledge-claims. Thus, there is no counter-apologetic available to solely epistemic particularists who encounter other solely epistemic particularists who conflictingly claim "you are not married" as an instance of "knowledge." In contrast, Scripturalists who synthesize particularism and methodism do have counter-apologetics available against copy-cat opponents, as will be demonstrated below. Similarly, starting with a method for knowing things is not to say that one knows the method itself is true. Thus, there is as big a difference between solely epistemic methodists and those who synthesize particularism and methodism as there is between epistemic positism and foundationalism. These are important distinctions that should not be overlooked.

Another, more tangential criticism might be that even with the above distinctions in mind, someone else might attempt to likewise synthesize particularism and methodism by providing a different "methodological criterion for knowledge they claim that can itself be [particularly] known by the method itself." Does affirmation of one not beg the question against the other?

A few things ought to be stated in response. Firstly, the idea of question-begging is itself a concept that depends on a particular theory of knowledge. Solomon wrote, "of many books there is no end, and much study is a weariness of the flesh." (Ecc. 12:12). He might as well have written, "of many questions there is no end, and much answering is a weariness of the flesh." A fool can ask more questions than a wise man can answer. But can the fool himself answer what right he has to ask questions? Let any skeptics who ask questions designed to undermine the possibility of knowledge practice their inconsistency in silence.

To add to this point, if one interprets the Problem of the Criterion as an attack on foundationalism, he must be prepared to offer a non-skeptical alternative. By definition, infinitists would never be able to offer a complete answer to the Problem of the Criterion. And traditional, circular coherentists (for other versions of coherentism are foundationalism in disguise) no less beg the question than foundationalists and also have the problem of explaining how, if a belief cannot be self-justifying (as foundationalists can hold), reasoning in a circle "back" to a belief with which one "started" in a given conversation or thought-process adds or contributes to the justification of that belief.

Aside from these rebuttals, though, a more direct response to the question of how to adjudicate between two people who take particular, contradictory methods of knowledge as foundational for knowledge turns on the difference between epistemology and apologetics (and causation, for one cannot be argued into knowing truth by brute logic).

Let's say I claim that the criterion for knowledge is divine revelation - the extant extent of which is codified in or deducible from the Bible - a criterion itself knowable as such. I do, and Clark likewise made these claims:

But if there is a revelation, there can be no criterion for it. God cannot swear by a greater; therefore he has sworn by himself. One cannot ask one’s own experience to judge God and determine whether God tells the truth or not. Consider Abraham. How could Abraham be sure that God commanded him to sacrifice Isaac? Maybe this suggestion was of the devil; maybe it was a queer auto-suggestion. There is no higher answer to this question than God himself. The final criterion is merely God’s statement. It cannot be tested by any superior truth. (Today's Evangelism: Counterfeit or Genuine, 1990, pg. 113)

How then may we know that the Bible is true? The Confession answers, “Our full persuasion and assurance of the infallible truth and divine authority [of the Scripture] is from the inward work of the Holy Spirit.”

Faith is a gift or work of God. It is God who causes us to believe: “Blessed is the man whom thou choosest and causest to approach unto thee” (Psa. 65:4).

Logically the infallibility of the Bible is not a theorem to be deduced from some prior axiom. The infallibility of the Bible is the axiom from which several doctrines are themselves deduced as theorems. Every religion and every philosophy must be based on some first principle. And since a first principle is first, it cannot be “proved” or “demonstrated” on the basis of anything prior. As the catechism question, quoted above, says, “The Word of God is the only rule to direct us how we may glorify Him.” (What Do Presbyterians Believe? 1985, pg. 18)

Suppose another claims the same thing about the Quran. What to do? Well, one difference between this scenario - in which particularism and methodism have been synthesized - and the others mentioned above is that my foundation may also prescribe apologetic methods for refuting others, including showing that their own foundation is internally inconsistent. Indeed, this is again what Clark himself suggests: 

...if apologetics has the task of discussing secular systems, is not the apagogic method the best – the method of reductio ad absurdum? 

...apologetics must be derived from revelation. At the same time what seemed to be a lack of consistency or resoluteness led to certain proposals for improving and extending his apologetic method. The proposals submitted stressed apagogic apologetics, the unity of truth and axiomatization as the most consistent denial of a common platform with unbelief. 

...the Gospel has a point of contact, and apagogic argumentation can be extended. Not only may the apologete show the self-contradiction inherent in secular axioms, as we said above; he may now stress the inconsistency of accepting both a secular axiom and a divine truth; and he may draw out the inferences of the divine truth and show its consistency with the additional truths of revelation. (Karl Barth's Theological Method, 1997, pgs. 96, 113, 118)

In fact, Clark does an excellent job of extending meta-epistemic considerations along these lines to a defense of a unified, methodological foundationalism: 

This is one reason why methodology must be carefully considered. Is it the right method to begin with sensory experience, or with a mystic trance, and conclude with the type of God that later appears? In particular, will anything at all appear later concerning sin, atonement, resurrection, and so on? The Christian needs a method that arrives at all this. He needs a single method. Two methods produce a bifurcation that cannot be unified. Theology then would be schizophrenic. A theory of knowledge must cover all knowledge. If it does not, and if a person uses two methods he cannot answer the question, Where should the one be used, and where the other? He cannot use theory number one to define the place of theory number two, nor conversely, and hence he has no ground for choosing one rather than the other at any point. This means that he really has no theory of knowledge at all...

The method used in this book and the theology that necessarily results are Biblical. The principle is to take the Bible as a revelation from God. (link)

That being said, apologetics does have limitations. As Clark notes, "One who believes in the unity of truth may still believe that the false system entails contradictions; but to prove this is the work of omniscience" (Historiography: Secular and Religious, 1971, pg. 370). We are not omniscient. Has the Problem of the Criterion, then, remained a problem after all?

No, for fortunately, God is omniscient, God has revealed Himself to us, and His revelation is self-authenticating. While we cannot necessarily show contradictions that stem from others' foundations, then, that apologetic limitation does not prevent us from knowing they exist. Additionally, even in such situations, we can, nevertheless argue against other foundations. As Ron DiGiacomo notes:

The transcendental argument for the existence of God is an argument that has as its conclusion God exists.

Prove A: The Christian God exists.
Step 1 ~A: (Assume the opposite of what we are trying to prove): The Christian God does not exist.
Step 2 (~A--> B): If God does not exist, then there is no intelligible experience since God is the precondition of intelligibility
Step 3 (~B): There is intelligible experience (Contradiction)
Step 4 (~ ~A): It is not the case that God does not exist (Modus Tollens on 2 and 3)
Step 5 (A): --> God does exist (Law of negation.)
Q.E.D.

...So what about step 2 of the argument? We can defend the premise of step 2 deductively by appealing to the absolute authority of Scripture. Of course the unbeliever rejects that authority; nonetheless that the unbeliever is dysfunctional does not mean that an appeal to Scripture is fallacious! After all, if a skeptic rejects logic should we then argue apart from logic? Since when does the dullness of an opponent dictate which tools of argumentation may be used? Of course, given the unbeliever’s suppression of the truth the Christian does well to defend step 2 inductively by performing internal critiques of opposing worldviews, which of course can only corroborate the veracity of step 2. It would be fallacious, however, to conclude because of such condescension toward the unbeliever that the conclusion of TAG (God exists) and the justification for its step 2 (God is the precondition of intelligibility) rest upon inductive inference. By the use of induction the Christian is merely acknowledging that the unbeliever refuses to bend the knee to the self-attesting Word from which step 2 can be deduced by sound argumentation. Since unbelievers will not accept the truth claims of the Bible and, therefore, a deductive defense of step 2 the only thing the Christian can do is refute the hypothetical competitors, but that hardly implies that step 2 cannot be proved by deduction. (link)

Yes, a Muslim or others might try to copy this transcendental line of reasoning - and that is why reductio ad absurdem argumentation Clark recommends is an excellent apologetic tool that can, in certain contexts, be more persuasive than transcendental reasoning - but one who is worried about what hypothetical scenarios in which we can't perform a certain apologetic says about our ability to know the Bible is God's word rather than the Quran (or whatnot) ought to keep in mind that apologetics is subordinate to epistemology in the first place (link). What we know dictates how we argue and defend what we know, not vice versa. Those who find these apologetic defenses to be "question-begging" ought to re-examine whether they have rightly understood and distinguished the structure of epistemic justification from apologetic methods of defending of one's position (as well as the relationship between the two).

Strong Access Internalism, Synthesis, and Self-Justifying Beliefs

Richard Fumerton has written a short but useful summary of various kinds of internalism in Resurrecting Old-Fashioned Foundationalism. It can be found in the amazon preview of the book on pgs. 4-7, here. One kind of internalism Fumerton mentions is "access internalism." Access internalism is "the position that in order to know that p, S must have 'access' to what justifies that belief" (link). Whether we must actually have access to the justification or merely the potential to do so is what differentiates strong and weak versions of access internalism. 

Fumerton, who is an internalist and foundationalist himself, finds weak access internalism unmotivated, as externalists needn't deny that we could in principle become aware of what justifies our foundational beliefs. He finds strong access internalism virtually unintelligible:

If one maintains that for any set of conditions X that one proposes as constitutive of S's justification for believing P, those conditions must always be fortified with some other set of conditions describing S's access to X, then the view is hopeless. Call the satisfaction of access conditions to X, A1. Will X together with A1 constitute justification for S to believe P? Not given the view. Our strong access requirements require access (call it A2) to the new proposed sufficient conditions for justification (X and A1). But the conjunction of X, A1, and A2 will not constitute S's justification for believing P as the view requires us to add access to these conditions and so on ad infinitum.  

To avoid this problem, the strong access internalist must distinguish carefully a view about what is constitutive of justification from a view about what is necessary for justification. If the view is to be intelligible the access internalist must argue that when some set of conditions X constitutes S's justification for believing P, those conditions will be such that they entail that S has access to them. The access, however, need not be part of what constitutes the justification. An analogy might be helpful. P cannot be true unless it is true that P is true - P's truth entails (in some sense of "entails") that it is true that P is true. But it would be a serious mistake to argue that P's being true is constituted by its being true that P is true. The correct analysis of what it is for P to be true should not make reference to metatruths about P's truth even if the correct analysis of P's being true must reveal why P's being true entails that it is true that P is true.

Many contemporary epistemologists have made this sort of argument against strong access internalism, implicitly if not explicitly. For example, see here:

Laurence BonJour (1985) raised another highly influential objection to all forms of classical foundationalism (an objection raised before he joined the ranks of foundationalists). The objection presupposed a strong form of what we might call access internalism. Put very superficially the access internalist argues that a feature of a belief or epistemic situation that makes a belief noninferentially justified must be a feature to which we have actual or potential access. Moreover, we must have access to the fact that the feature in question is probabilistically related to the truth of what we believe. So suppose some foundationalist offers an account of noninferential justification according to which a belief is noninferentially justified if it has some characteristic X. BonJour then argues that the mere fact that the belief has X could not, even in principle, justify the believer in holding the belief. The believer would also need access to (justified belief that!) the belief in question has X and that beliefs of this sort (X beliefs) are likely to be true. At least one of these propositions could only be known through inference, and thus the putative noninferential justification is destroyed. 

BonJour presented the objection on the way to developing a coherence theory of empirical justification. But it ultimately became obvious that the objection to foundationalism, if good, was too strong. Given the structure of the argument it should become evident that the coherence theory (and any other theory) would be equally vulnerable to the argument. Just replace “X” with some complicated description of beliefs cohering with each other. That might suggest to the classical foundationalist that strong access internalism is a view to be avoided. (link)

And here:

Klein develops an argument against foundationalism along similar lines, although he departs from Sellars and BonJour in proposing infinitism rather than coherentism as an alternative to foundationalism. He imagines a proponent of  foundationalism, Fred, who engages in a process of critical reflection on his justification for a certain belief. He traces back the chain of inferential justifications for this belief until he reaches some foundational belief that he takes to be nonI inferentially justified. Fred is committed, on pain of arbitrariness, to acknowledging that there is some feature F in virtue of which the belief in question is non-inferentially justified. But then the question arises whether beliefs that have F are likely to be true. And now there seem to be two options. If Fred ducks the question, or answers it in the negative, then his belief is epistemically irresponsible and so  unjustified. But if he answers in the affirmative, then Klein (2007: 15) concludes, “the regress has continued because Fred has located a very good reason for thinking  that b is true, namely, b has F and propositions with F are likely to be true.” (link)

Several of these objections were originally intended to refer epistemic justification in the context of empirical knowledge, but in this last version by Klein especially, they each can be viewed as applicable to any type of proposed foundational knowledge. By way of reply to these arguments, I wish to make two observations.

Firstly, I don't object to the idea that some of our beliefs are externally justified, i.e. that we needn't show or be aware of what justification our beliefs have in order for those beliefs to be justified in some sense. Some might, but I suspect that is because they begin with a theoretic or methodological understanding of "knowledge" or "justification" and then see which beliefs they have that qualify as falling under those categories. On the other hand, contemporary epistemologists appear more interested in discussing what particular beliefs we have which we intuit are "known" or "justified" and attempt to find commonalities among these beliefs in order to understand what "knowledge" or "justification" is. Should we define "knowledge" and "justified belief" chronologically prior to labeling and categorizing our beliefs, or should we attempt to abstract working definitions from paradigm examples of commonly accepted instances of "knowledge" and "justified belief"?

This question probably causes more harm than good and leads to a vast internalist/externalist divide when there should be none. We can grant that there is something about everyday beliefs which through the ordinary use of language has led us to say we know them or are justified in believing them in one sense. And we can grant that there may be a type of knowledge or justified belief - defined appropriately and not intended to exclude any other type of knowledge or epistemic justification - the reflective denial of which entails internal inconsistency. 

Here we find reason for a synthesis of externalism and internalism. A motivation of the former is to account for everyday knowledge or justified belief, unreflective yet sensible if not given disproportionate leniency or preference in its evaluation. A motivation of the latter is to provide us with the ability to form a principled defense of our beliefs (including those which are externally justified) when confronted with people who believe contrary to them.

Secondly, in defense of strong access internalism, each of these above arguments seems to make a key assumption I have already elsewhere denied should be granted, viz. the assumption that foundationalists are or ought to be metajustificatory foundationalists rather than traditional foundationalists (link). Notice that Fumerton, Bonjour, and Klein all formulate their respective objections to [the strong access version of internalist] foundationalism by appealing to some alleged "condition," "characteristic," or "feature" of [foundational] beliefs and asking something like whether these things are truth-conducive or whether we need to access something further in order to form a wedge between the foundation and the metajustification. 

If a certain belief can be self-justifying, however - and how we defend or attack a claim to one as such is a separate issue altogether - then a belief whose truth is its own justification is already all one needs to answer these questions. The belief itself is sufficient. These objections, like the objection to foundationalism Jeremy Fantl makes which I address in the above link, fail to address the foundationalist who states that foundational beliefs are self-justifying and, if of an internalist variety, infallibly so. To recall Fantl's admission:

We can ask why self-justifying reasons are self-justifying. If the traditional foundationalist has an answer, it seems like it must involve some metajustificatory feature. If the traditional foundationalist has no answer, it seems like the view has arbitrary foundations. (See BonJour, Structure, 30-3, for a similar argument.)   

However, the traditional foundationalist can argue that completely self-justifying reasons are not self-justifying in virtue of some metajustificatory feature, nor are they arbitrary. It may be that certain reasons have to be assumed to be self-justifying if skepticism is to be avoided. This is a rather familiar form of rationalist argument for the existence of a priori justification. Here, the main implication of these arguments is that there might be a way to non arbitrarily show that we need to take certain reasons to be completely self-justifying without requiring that there be a metajustificatory feature which makes those reasons self-justifying. What convinces us we need to take those reasons to be self-justifying need not make them self-justifying.    

This move does not seem to be available in the case of reasons that are self-justifying only to a degree. (pg. 544)

This very charitable concession turns out to be very critical. The fine distinctions in the second paragraph in particular dovetail perfectly with my explanation of the distinction between epistemology and apologetics (link):

While "test[s] for truth" can serve as confirmatory evidences of Christianity, they shouldn't function as the ground of knowledge; divine revelation does. Elsewhere, I have called tests for truth necessary conditions for knowledge and the postulate[s] by which one claims to know anything the sufficient condition[s] for knowledge (link). The former are the means by which we make arguments for (i.e. apologetics) the latter (i.e. epistemology).

Again, apologetics should include an explanation of the epistemology of the system one is defending. Any good defense of a system of knowledge should explain what that system says about how we can know anything. But that explanation and defense should not be confused for that actual process of knowing. In fact, apologetics is only possible insofar as we know the system we are defending is true in the first place (see here). 

Or, as Fantl says, "what convince us we need to take those [foundational] reasons to be self-justifying need not make them self-justifying." Our practical defense is not our justification, not to understate the former's importance.

This position also perfectly addresses Fumerton's point in the first quote of this post that "The correct analysis of what it is for P to be true should not make reference to metatruths about P's truth even if the correct analysis of P's being true must reveal why P's being true entails that it is true that P is true." 

That is, the correct analysis of what it is for a belief P to be self-justifying should not make reference to subsidiary, necessary truths even if the correct analysis of P's being self-justifying must reveal why P's being self-justifying entails that these subsidiary, necessary truths are true. We can, however, reference these for the apologetic purpose of convincing others of our foundational and self-justifying belief - i.e. that any knowledge which is both internally justified and infallible must be founded on divine revelation which, in our case, is coextensive Scripture.

Scripturalism and Plausibility

Plausibility is fickle. What sounds right to one person can sound ridiculous to another. I would say the most plausible explanation for this is that while people want to be [or at least appear to be] consistent, they vary in respect to certain beliefs. How well some proposition coheres with beliefs about which one is relatively inflexible will influence how disposed one will be to accept it.

Now, psychology doesn't really interest me. If I make a good argument, I shouldn't feel responsible for how a person responds to that argument. And, in general, I don't. Then again, there's not much point to making an argument in the first place if I have no hope that it will succeed in convincing the listener. I may better convince myself, but in any case, it is natural to want something more. 

What I am getting at is that while arguing for Scripturalism is fine, to convince more people, it seems that some time should be spent in making it more plausible. Who, after all, would admit to believing what he thinks is implausible? 

But how would one go about making something more plausible? Is there an exact science to it? I don't think so. In fact, my advice here is based on intuition and experience, but that should be fine since the goal is not to explain how to erect a sound argument but rather how to take a sound argument, the conclusion of which you think a person opposes, and make the conclusion more plausible. There's room for generalizations, allowances for context, etc., here. So most of what follows will be rather informal.

In general, for example, I wouldn't recommend stating the conclusion first. People don't like to backtrack, so instead of immediately provoking them into disagreement with a conclusion and, by extension, one of the as-yet unstated but underlying premises of a valid argument, it would seem better to state those premises which you believe are both agreeable and integral to the conclusion, and then show why they entail the conclusion. Take the following, well-written statement by Fred Dretske:

If your reasons for believing P are such that you might have them when P is false, then they aren't good enough to know that P is true. You need something more. That is why you can't know you are going to lose a lottery just because your chances of losing are 99.99 percent. Even with those odds, you still might win (someone with those odds against him will win). That is why you can't learn - can't come to know - that P is true if all you have to go on is the word of a person who might lie about whether or not P is so. This is just another way of saying that knowledge requires reasons or evidence (in this case, testimony) you wouldn't have if what you end up believing were false. You can learn things from people, yes, but only from people who wouldn't say it unless it were true. (Contemporary Debates in Epistemology, pgs. 43-44)

This is what I would call a plausible argument. You can't know a proposition if it is false, so you can't know a proposition if there is, for all you know, a chance that it is false. A simple, common-sense argument for infallibilism buttressed by an example of how his argument applies to something like the lottery. Examples are good tools when trying to make an argument plausible.

For the purposes of Scripturalism, Dretske cites an even more useful illustration: the possibility of learning from people, where learning implies knowledge-acquisition. Dretske acknowledges it is possible to learn from people, but only from people who wouldn't lie. An excellent deduction from his previous remarks. But would Dretske agree that only one who cannot lie - say, God - satisfies? How else could Dretske be in a position to know who would and wouldn't lie? He may have a suspicion or opinion one way or another, but the real question is would he infallibilistically know? Since we've come this far in agreement, could Dretske really just go back and forget his own arguments? [I don't know how Dretske would respond to any of these questions, of course.]

Or take the following by Richard Fumerton:

We will agree here, therefore, 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.  

Of course, the moral most contemporary epistemologists draw is that we should reject Cartesian standards from knowledge. Our only hope of avoiding skepticism with respect to knowledge of the external world (the past, the future, other minds, and so on) is to accept more relaxed standards for knowledge. (Contemporary Debates in Epistemology, pg. 86)

That one contemporary epistemologist admits there can be no empirical "knowledge" in the strong sense in which Dretske, another contemporary epistemologist, intends above is quite a concession. While this doesn't show that empirical knowledge is impossible - again, a sound argument can do that even without a so-called plausible presentation - what it does do is show a willingness to respectfully engage and even heartily agree with acknowledged top minds of a given field.

We can even allow for discussion as to more relaxed standards for a colloquial understanding of "knowledge" so long as we in turn can push the point that everyone implicitly holds some beliefs must adhere to the stricter standards (infallibilism, cf. here). I am not aware of any Scripturalist who would necessarily deny we can "know" about an "external world" in a loose sense, but that's because, as I pointed out in my last post (link), Scripturalists are more interested in defeating skepticism. That is, they are more interested in "knowledge" in the "strong" sense outlined by Dretske and alluded to by Fumerton. Focusing a discussion on a few, key points and agreeing with peripheral issues when appropriate will be more conducive when attempting to explain why Scripturalism is true, because at the same time you alleviate concerns that it doesn't cohere with pre-established beliefs.

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?