Objectivism & “Metaphysics,” Part 11

Logic and reality. Chris Sciabarra sums up the Objectivist position on this issue better than any Objectivist:

Like Aristotle, Rand believes that logic is inseparable from reality and knowledge. She states: “If logic has nothing to do with reality, it means the Law of Identity is inapplicable to reality.” But, as Peikoff explains: “The Law of Contradiction … is a necessary and ontological truth which can be learned empirically.” … [For Rand,] logic is certainly a law of thought, insofar as it is “the art of non-contradictory identification.” But logic is true in thought only because contradictions cannot exist in reality. Rand writes: “An atom is itself, and so is the universe; neither can contradict its own identity; nor can a part contradict the whole.” [Ayn Rand: The Russian Radical, 139-140]

What on earth does it mean to say that contradictions cannot exist in reality? What kind of processes or events is this supposed to rule out? What would a “contradiction in reality” look like? What does it mean, in empirical terms, to say that an atom cannot be a non-atom? Or is it merely that we simply cannot conceive such “contradictions in reality”? But if we cannot conceive what a “contradiction in reality” might be, what is the point of saying such a phenomena cannot exist? If we cannot even imagine its existence, it has no relevance, either as an error or a falsehood. So again, what is this mythical gremlin, the “contradiction in reality,” and why should we bother our heads with it?


Rand’s confusion here runs deep, and stems from confusing different aspects or realms of existence and trying to assume that logic, in order to be cognitively useful, must be valid in every domain or realm of existence. The philosophers George Santayana and Karl Popper, working entirely independent of one another, distinguished at least three realms or “worlds”:

1. Realm of Matter/World 1: the physical world, the world of matter existing in time and space.
2. Realm of Spirit/World 2: consciousness, the world of mental objects and events.
3. Realm of Essence/World 3: the world of ideas, meanings, theories, problems, etc.

While Santayana’s realms of matter and spirit are largely identical to Popper’s worlds 1 and 2, there are important difference between the Santayana’s realm of essence and Popper’s world 3. Santayana’s realm of essence includes all possible meanings, whether anyone has experienced them or not. Popper, on the other hand, tends to confine his world 3 to those ideas or meanings produced by the human mind. These differences are not important for the points I will be trying to make about logic and reality in this post.

Now where does logic actually hold true? Does it hold true in all three realms/worlds? Or in only one or two of them? Or in none of them? Well, let’ s take a look, first, at the realm of matter. Does it hold true for that? No, it doesn’t. This is demonstrated by an experiment proposed by Karl Popper. Popper begins by noting that when a logical statement such as 2+2=4 is applied to reality (as when someone puts 2+2 apples in basket),

it becomes a physical theory, rather than a logical one; and as a consequence, we cannot be sure whether it remains universally true. As a matter of fact, it does not. It may hold for apples, but it hardly holds for rabbits. If you put 2+2 rabbits in a basket, you may soon find 7 or 8 in it. Nor is it applicable to such things as drops. If you put 2+2 drops in a dry flask, you will never get four out of it. If you answer that these examples are not fair because something has happened to the rabbits and the drops, and because the equation ‘2+2=4’ only applies to objects in which nothing happens, then my answer is that, if you interpret it in this way, then it does not hold for ‘reality’ (for in ‘reality’ something happens all the time), but only for an abstract world of distinct objects in which nothing happens. To the extent, it is clear, to which our real world resembles such an abstract world, for example, to the extent to which our apples do not rot, or rot only very slowly, or to which our rabbits or crocodiles do not happen to breed; to the extent, in other words, to which physical conditions resemble pure logical or arithmetical operation of addition, to the same extent does arithmetic remain applicable. But this statement is trivial.” [Conjectures and Refutations, 212]

So logic does not in all respects hold good for the physical world. What about the mental world? Here I draw on Santayana’s testimony:

Now as a matter of fact there is a psychological sphere to which logic and mathematics do not apply. There, the truth is dramatic. That 2+2=4 is not true of ideas. One idea added to another, in actual intuition [i.e., in conscious experience], makes still only one idea, or it makes three: for the combination, with the relations perceived, forms one complex essence, and yet the original essences remain distinct, as elements in this new whole. This holds true of all moral, aesthetic, and historical units: they are merged and reconstituted with every act of apperception. [Realm of Truth, 410]

Where, then, is logic fully applicable? According to Popper, “Logical necessity exists only in world 3. Logical connection, logical relations, logical necessities, logical incompatibility — all that exists only in world 3. So it exists in our theories about nature. In nature this does not exist, there is no such thing.” [Knowledge and the Body-Mind Problem, 41]

Santayana regards logic to be “merely a parabolic excursion in the realm of essence.” If a logical construction is true, this truth derives, not from logic, but from conformity to the order of nature.

The only serious value of … logical explorations would lie in their possible relevance to the accidents of existence. It is only in that relation and in that measure that mathematical science would cease to be mere play with ideas and would become true: that is, in a serious sense, would become knowledge. Now the seriousness of mathematics comes precisely of its remarkable and exact relevance to material facts, both familiar and remote. And this in surprising measure. For when once any essence falls within the sphere of truth, all its essential relations do so too: and the necessity of these relations will, on that hypothesis, form a necessary complement to a proposition that happens to be true. This same necessity, however, would have nothing to do with truth if the terms it connects were not exemplified in existence. In this way mathematical calculations far outrunning experiment often [but not always!] turn out to be true of the physical world, as if, per impossible, they could be true a priori. [ibid, 409]

In other words, when a logical proposition turns out to be true, the truth of that statement arises, not from its logic, but by the fact that it is exemplified by the real world. It is the real world, not logic, which makes a thing true. Facts, nature, reality constitute the standard of truth, not logic. I would also note that, while there exists an infinite number of logical expressions (after all, every mathematic equation is a logical expression, and there are an infinite number of such expressions), only a small fraction of those will find exemplification in existence. Logical validity is therefore no warrant of truth.

If existence were actually logical, as conceived by Objectivists, then reality would have to be a system of ideal relations, like we find imagined in the idealist reveries of Plato and Hegel. In other words, this view only makes sense on idealist assumptions. But on realist assumptions, reality may be anything it pleases. It is not for the mind to determine how reality must be. On the contrary, the mind must accept whatever it finds. And since we have not experienced every possible fact of nature, all theories about facts are ultimately conjectural, and must be revised or overthrown if a fact is discovered that contradicts them. Facts, therefore, for all practical intents, are contingent — which effectively means, alogical and "unnecessary." If a fact contradicts one of our theories about reality, it is the theory that has to go, not the fact.

I suspect there will be Rand apologists who will protest that Objectivism denies no facts. Well, that’s not so clear, as we shall see in my next post.

Objectivism & “Metaphysics,” Part 10

Causality. In the Logical Structure of Objectivism, David Kelley makes the following observation:

Notice that neither [the axiom of existence or the axiom of identity make] any specific statement about the nature of what exists. For example, the axiom of existence does not assert the existence of a physical or material world as opposed to a mental one. The axiom of identity does not assert that all objects are composed of form and matter, as Aristotle said. These things may be true, but they are not axiomatic; the axioms assert the simple and inescapable fact that whatever there is, it is and it is something.

Very well. Now consider what Rand draws from these very same axioms:

To grasp the axiom that existence exists, means to grasp the fact that nature, i.e., the universe as a whole, cannot be created or annihilated, that it cannot come into or go out of existence. Whether its basic constituent elements are atoms, or subatomic particles, or some yet undiscovered forms of energy, it is not ruled by a consciousness or by will or by chance, but by the law of identity. All the countless forms, motions, combinations and dissolutions of elements within the universe—from a floating speck of dust to the formation of a galaxy to the emergence of life—are caused and determined by the identities of the elements involved.

In other words, she draws from these axioms: (1) that the universe is permanent and can neither be destroyed nor created; (2) the universe is not ruled by will or chance, but by the “law of identity”; (3) everything that happens is caused by the “identities” of the elements involved. She also implies that the basic constituents of the universe, whatever they may happen to be, are non-mental (i.e., atoms, particles, or forms of energy). How does Rand draw all these things from these axioms when, according to Kelley (who, in this instance, is being entirely orthodox) these axioms only assert that "something" distinguishable exists?

Here we stumble upon another one of those equivocations that are so plentiful within the philosophical swamps of Objectivism. On the one hand, we’re told by Kelley that “The axioms and their corollaries are not rich in specific content that would allow specific inferences.” And yet Rand give us specific inferences: the universe is permanent, it’s not ruled by chance, causes stem from identities, etc.

Objectivists regard causality as a “corollary” of the axiom of identity. Leonard Peikoff defines “corollary” as “a self-evident implication of already established knowledge.” [OPAR, 15] From a logical point of view, this is all very baffling. What, after all, is meant by saying that the Objectivist axioms don’t allow for “specific” inferences? What, exactly, is supposed to be “specific” about the inference? The conclusion? The applicability of the inference? Is a corollary a "specific" inference? By not explaining clearly what he means, Kelley leaves ample room to weasel out of any logical difficulties that he may stumble into. Peikoff is no more fortunate in his formulation. His declaration that a corollary constitutes a “self-evident implication” appears to contradict Ayn Rand’s assertion that “Nothing is self-evident except the material of sensory perception.”

Since causality is not perceived, how can it be regarded as “self-evident”? Even on Objectivist grounds, this appears to be an absurdity. And so it is when we examine the Objectivist argument more closely. Rand states the “argument" as follows:

The law of causality is the law of identity applied to action [wrote Rand]. All actions are caused by entities. The nature of an action is caused and determined by the nature of the entities that act; a thing cannot act in contradiction to its nature.

David Kelley fleshes this out as follows:

Causality is the principle that entities act in accordance with their natures. Because actions are aspects of the entities that act, the actions are part of the identity of the entity. But the law of causality also says an action is not a primary, independent aspect of a thing’s nature, unrelated to other aspects. The law says that any action depends on underlying attributes of the thing, such as its mass, material composition, and internal structure.

The basic confusion at the root of the Objectivist view of causality is a conflation of logical identity with identification. Logical identity, as I explained in my last post, is merely the identity of a term of thought with itself. Identification, on the other hand, involves, among other things, determining which term of thought will stand as a symbol for an object, property, event or process taking place in the “real” world (i.e., the world outside of consciousness). Identification of specific entities does involve (as is suggested by Objectivism) noticing the attributes of those entities, but the ascription of an attribute to an object does not involve logical identity, it involves predication. White is not identical to swan; it is predicated of swans. As I noted in my previous post, predication does not assert that A is A, but that A is B (that is to say, A has attribute B). The phrases Swans are swans and Swans are white are not logically compatible. They use the term are (the plural of is) in different senses. To imply an equality (or, worse, an identity) is to lapse into equivocation.

I know that there will be Rand apologists who will insist that Rand does not lapse into equivocation. But in point of fact, by assuming that identity (in the logical "A is A" sense of identity) is the same as identification, she is conflating them. Since identification involves predication, it is a logical error to confuse it with logical identity. The attributes of objects, including their causal regularities, are not governed, nor can they be discovered or validated, exclusively by logic. Statements of predication, if they have any relevance to reality, are empirical through and through. The fact that dogs bark and cats meow could never be discovered by logic alone. The attribution of causation to things is no less empirical. Causation is not a logical process; it is neither governed by logic nor discoverable exclusively by logic. The fact that fire produces smoke can never be deduced from pure logic. Since causation is empirical through and through, a matter of fact rather than a matter of logic, it is pure sophistry to try to "validate" or derive it from some logical or "axiomatic" principle. As philosopher John Hospers explains:

"A is A" is ... a tautology, but an important one: every time a person is guilty of a logical inconsistency he is saying A and then in the next breath not-A. Thus "A is A" is something of which we need to remind ourselves constantly. But it is not … an empirical statement: we don't have to go around examining cats to discover whether they are cats. (We might have to examine this creature to discover whether it is a cat.) But ... statements of what causes what, such as "Friction causes heat," are empirical statements; we can only know by perceiving the world whether they are true. How ... can the Law of Causality be merely an application of the Law of Identity? You could manipulate the Law of Identity forever and never squeeze out anything as specific as a single causal statement.

But ... I could see how [Rand’s] confusion might be generated. A tautology can easily look like something else. "A thing acts in accordance with its nature" might be one example. This might be taken as an instance of the Law of Identity: if a creature of type X acts in accordance with laws A, B, C, and this creature doesn't do that, then it isn't an X. If dogs bark and growl and this creature hisses and meows, it isn't a dog; that is, we wouldn't call anything a dog that did this. So we can plausibly classify the statement about what we call "a thing's nature" as special cases of the Law of Identity. But this ... tells us nothing about the world, but only about how we are using words like "dog" and "cat." [“Conversations with Ayn Rand,” italics added]

Unfortunately, Rand was under the illusion that her law of identity applied to the empirical world, rather than merely to formal logic or to the usage of terms. She was under that great illusion of metaphysical philosophers—namely, that matters of fact can be determined by logical constructions. They cannot be so determined. While some truths may seem so obvious as to seem necessary by logic (and therefore discoverable through logical reasoning), this necessity, as Santayana noted, merely “parades the helplessness of the mind to imagine anything different.” As Santayana explicated the point:



Are there no truths obviously necessary to common sense? If I have mislaid my keys, mustn’t they be somewhere? If a child is born, mustn’t he have a father? Must is a curious word, pregnant for the satirist: it seems to redouble the certainty of a fact, while really admitting that the fact is only conjectural…. Spirit [i.e., mind] was born precisely … to see the contingency and finitude of every fact, and to imagine as many alternatives and extensions as possible, some of which may be true, and may put that casual fact in its true setting. Truth is groped after, not imposed, by the presumptions of the intellect: and if these presumptions often are true, the reason is that they are based upon and adjusted to the actual order of nature, which is thoroughly unnecessary, and most miraculous when most regular. [Realms of Being, 417, italics added]

Causality is neither a product of logic or necessity. In fact, it is not a product of any idea. Rand’s approach to metaphysics would only be valid if the world followed ideas by necessity, as it did according to Plato. But if ideas merely describe the world, then no matter of fact can be regarded as logically necessary. Logical necessity only makes sense if the world follows logic—and most of the evidence at our disposal suggests that logic most emphatically does not hold any sort of empire over fact, but that, rather, logic is a tool useful for testing claims of knowledge. Consideration of this issue leads to another of Rand’s errors, namely, her conviction that reality is “logical.” I will address this delusion in my next post.

The McCaskey Objectischism

Neil Parille gives us the lowdown on the latest bustup in Randland.

The latest Objectischism is underway. Schisms, excommunications, denunciations and sometimes even recantations are prominent features of Objectivist life and form an entertaining Kremlinology to those of us interested in the Objectivist microverse. While not as cosmic an event as the David Kelley excommunication in the 1980s - thus far only John McCaskey has been excommunicated from the movement - this one seems to be a sign of growing Objectivist frustration with Leonard Peikoff and the tone of orthodox Objectivism.

John McCaskey is a well credentialled Objectivist scholar. He holds a doctorate from Stanford University in the history of science, where he currently teaches. He was, until recently, on the board of directors of the Ayn Rand Institute. He has written for the Objective Standard, the house organ of the ARI. He has spoken at Objectivist Conferences. McCaskey appears to be tight with orthodox Objectivist figureheads such as Allan Gotthelf and Harry Binswanger, but has “rarely spoken” to Peikoff.

McCaskey founded The Anthem Foundation for Objectivist Scholarship in 2001. The Foundation, which was so closely tied to the ARI that it was absorbed by it in 2008, may be the most interesting “special ops” of the ARI. The Foundation sponsors Objectivist professors (always orthodox) at universities through the United States. Intentionally or not it gives the illusion of greater Objectivist penetration in the academic world than it probably has. The Foundation received national attention in 2007 when Texas State University at San Marcos turned down a Foundation grant because of the dogmatic nature and intolerance of orthodox Objectivism.
The roots of this latest schism go back a ways. According to orthodox Objectivism, Rand solved the problem of universals in Introduction to Objectivist Epistemology. The biggest remaining problem in philosophy was the problem of induction, a thorny question which, by common consent, no completely satisfactory solution has been given. Peikoff, Rand’s self-proclaimed “intellectual heir,” teamed up with physicist David Harriman to solve the problem and show how induction worked in science. The result was Peikoff’s 1999 lecture course Induction in Physics and Philosophy which “present[s], for the first time, the solution to the problem of induction—and thereby complete[s], in every essential respect, the validation of reason.” The solution apparently built on Rand’s theory of concepts and, if true, would be a significant extension of Objectivism.

Peikoff and Harriman were for a time collaborating on a book on induction; however Peikoff dropped out of the project deciding to spend more time on his “DIM Hypothesis” book (which, like some other Peikoff book projects, hasn’t appeared). In July 2010, Harriman’s book – The Logical Leap: Induction in Physics – was finally published. The book contains an introduction by Peikoff, who calls it “the first mayor application of Ayn Rand’s philosophy to a field other than philosophy.” Harriman states that theory of induction and concept formation in the book is Peikoff’s. He also acknowledges that the book was funded by the ARI. The history of science isn’t my strong suit, but the Harriman book follows the general Objectivist view of intellectual history: good guys with good (i.e., proto-Objectivist) ideas, bad guys with bad ideas, good ideas leading to good results, bad ideas leading to failure. All contrary evidence is ignored or explained away, as when Harriman claims that Galileo’s notes in his journals that suggested he was a rationalist who used “thought experiments” don’t accurately convey what Galileo was doing. (Harriman, as we will see, is apparently an expert when it comes to what people really mean in their journals.)

Harriman is controversial in Objectivist circles for his (at least partial) opposition to relativity theory and quantum mechanics. He also thinks the big bang theory is a “creation myth” (duly noting that it was developed by Catholic priest). He edited The Journals of Ayn Rand which, according to Jennifer Burns, he rewrote in the process to make it conform to Objectivist orthodoxy. As summarized by Laissez Faire Book’s review:

Burns writes, “On nearly every page of the published journals an unacknowledged change has been made from Rand’s original writing. In the book’s foreword the editor, David Harriman, defends his practice of eliminating Rand’s words and inserting his own as necessary for greater clarity. In many case, however, his editing serves to significantly alter Rand’s meaning.” She says that sentences are “rewritten to sound stronger and more definite” and that the editing “obscures important shifts and changes in Rand’s thought.” She finds “more alarming” the case that “sentences and proper names present in Rand’s original …have vanished entirely, without any ellipses or brackets to indicate a change.”

The result of this unacknowledged editing is that “they add up to a different Rand. In her original notebooks she is more tentative, historically bounded, and contradictory. The edited diaries have transformed her private space, the hidden realm in which she did her thinking, reaching, and groping, replacing it with a slick manufactured world in which all of her ideas are definite, well formulated, and clear.” She concludes that Rand’s Journals, as released by ARI, “are thus best understood as an interpretation of Rand rather than her own writing. Scholars must use these materials with extreme caution.”

In 2000 he ganged up with Leonard Peikoff to attack Allan Gotthelf’s incredibly fawning On Ayn Rand for its overly academic style. Harriman holds masters degrees in philosophy and physics. He would be a second-tier figure in the Objectivist world if it weren’t for his association with Peikoff.

Orthodox Objectivism has well credentialed physicists such as Keith Lockith (Ph.D. from the University of Wisconsin) and Travis Norsen (Ph.D. from the University of Washington). Both have lectured at Objectivist Conferences and have lectures sold by the ARI’s bookstore. Although Rand didn’t write anything on the philosophy of science, oral tradition has it that she was skeptical of what little she knew of modern physics. Peikoff doesn’t appear to know much about physics and what little he knows is from Harriman. (In Peikoff’s 2006 DIM lectures Peikoff said he had never heard of Richard Feynman, probably one of the few household names in physics in recent years.) It’s been rumored that there is discontent with the preeminent position Harriman and Peikoff have when it comes to physics.

The first sign a schism was on July 25, when Norsen’s review of The Logical Leap appeared on Amazon. He called it “valuable but disappointing” and gave it three starts (out of five). The review is lengthy, and takes aim specifically at chapter 1 (which is Peikoff’s contribution):

To begin with, I think the three key ideas presented in chapter 1 are important and correct. There *are* first-level generalizations which support and make possible the higher-level sorts of generalizations that scientists are (and unfortunately most philosophers concerned with induction have been) primarily concerned with. And as a matter of epistemological methodology, it is right to focus on these simplest, foundational cases to construct a theory to guide us in the more complex cases. I also think it is profoundly true that causal connections are sometimes perceivable, and Harriman is absolutely right to stress this as the fundamental answer to the skeptical views that emerge ultimately from a Humean, sensationalist account of perception. I would even go so far as to say that this idea (which, however, is not novel -- see for example the important book "Causal Powers" by Madden and Harre) is the key to solving the problem of induction. And second, the idea that generalizations are formed -- i.e., propositions are rendered general -- via the application of (open-ended) concepts to particular causal instances, strikes me as very interesting and pregnant.

However, even at the level of dealing with examples like "balls roll," I find that the book does not go far enough in clarifying and developing these ideas. I see rather large gaps in the account of first-level inductions presented in chapter 1, and these gaps seriously undermine the project of showing, through the subsequent history-of-science case studies, how induction works in physics.

Something must have been “going down” because on August 11 and August 23 Gotthelf and Binswanger - a pair practically Pynchonesquese in their reclusiveness - posted brief five-star reviews on Amazon praising Harriman’s book. Prior to these reviews Gotthelf and Binswanger had a combined eleven reviews on Amazon going back to 2000.

It now turns out that McCaskey had for some time been critical of The Logical Leap, although he never discussed his concerns with Peikoff. Peikoff however got wind of McCaksey’s criticism and took it as a personal attack on him. In an incredible email dated August 30 from Peikoff to ARI legal counsel Arline Mann (and cc’d to ARI director Yaron Brook) Peikoff made it clear that someone had to go and it wasn’t going to be him:

When a great book sponsored by the Institute and championed by me – I hope you still know who I am and what my intellectual status is in Objectivism – is denounced by a member of the Board of the Institute, which I founded someone has to go and will go. It is your prerogative to decide whom.

I do understand how much money M has brought to ARI, and how many college appointments he has gotten and is still getting. As Ayn would have put it, that raises him one rung in Hell, but it does not convert Objectivism into pragmatism.

Three days later McCaskey resigned from the ARI and the Foundation he started.
The day after that McCaskey reviewed The Logical Leap on Amazon, giving it three stars. The money quotes:

Readers of the book should be aware that the historical accounts presented here often differ from those given by academic researchers working on the history of science and often by the scientists themselves.

***
Generally, scholars who try to recreate the development of scientific concepts in the minds of great scientists are struck by how successful these scientists are in making propositional generalizations while still forming--and often themselves never fully forming--the concepts that constitute the generalizations. The narrative these scholars present (using Harriman's metaphor, not theirs) is not that a fully formed concept comes into the mind of the scientist who then uses it as a green light to an inductive propositional generalization, but that a partly formed concept serves as a flickering greenish light to a partial generalization, which acts as a less flickering, somewhat greener light to a better concept, which in turn improves the generalization, which then improves the concept, and so on, until well-defined concepts and associated propositional generalizations emerge fully formed together (at which point, the subjectivist says, "See, it's all just a matter of definitions.") Most scholars find the process of scientific progress less linear than Harriman indicates and much more iterative and spiral.

I cannot say that the conventional narratives (or my own) are all correct and Harriman's all wrong--certainly they are not--nor do I want to say how any inaccuracies would affect the theory of induction presented in The Logical Leap. I merely want to alert readers unfamiliar with the field that Harriman's narratives are often not the ones accepted by other scholars who research the conceptual development of great scientists and often not the ones that the scientists themselves give.

The theory of induction proposed here is potentially seminal; a theory that grounds inductive inference in concept-formation is welcome indeed. But the theory is still inchoate. If it is to be widely adopted, it will need to be better reconciled with the historical record as the theory gets fleshed out and refined.

What to make of this latest schism? It’s never easy to determine what is really happening in the noumenal realm of orthodox Objectivism. Even long-time Objectivism watchers with degrees in Kremlinology are having a hard time here. But let’s make some guesses:

1. Now that Harriman’s book is out and Peikoff has given the imprimatur to Harrimanesque physics, orthodox ARI physicists have decided that they aren’t going to let a philosopher with little knowledge of physics dictate how their work is done.

2. Objectivists are getting tired of Peikoff’s reign. With Peikoff’s retirement from the daily affairs of the ARI and his age they think can get along just fine without him.

3. Peikoff’s behavior has become increasingly erratic. In 2006 he issued a fatwa against anyone who was considering not voting Democratic, going so far as to claim that they didn’t understand Objectivism. He recently made a similar statement concerning Objectivists who believe that Moslems have a legal right to build a Mosque near the site of the September 11 attacks in New York City. He has called for a nuclear attack on Iran. When he speaks at an Objectivist Conference a disclaimer is published that his attendance doesn’t mean he agrees with everything other people say.

4. Peikoff, for whatever contributions he has made to Objectivism, has actually hurt Rand’s reputation. For example, in 2005 he sponsored James Valliant’s cracked The Passion of Ayn Rand’s Critics, a book which, far from rescuing Rand, made her look worse. He has permitted people like Harriman to rewrite the published version of Rand’s posthumous material in classic cult of personality fashion. Peikoff said in 1987 that Barbara Branden’s biography of Rand was “arbitrary” and would eventually be countered by an authorized biography. No such biography has appeared, but two independent biographies were published in 2009 both generally supportive of Branden’s. It must be increasingly obvious to younger Objectivists that the Peikoff line that Rand’s only character flaw was occasionally blowing her top was dishonest.
In 1968, Rand kicked out Nathaniel Branden (a psychologist). In 1976 she so harangued Alan Blumenthal (a psychiatrist) that he quit. Shortly before her death she booted out Robert Hessen (a historian). Leonard Peikoff has excommunicated not only David Kelly but George Reisman (an economist) and his wife Edith Packer (a psychologist).

The McCaskey Objectischism continues a trend of Rand and Peikoff breaking with independent thinkers who for ideological or personal reasons don’t toe the party line.

- Neil Parille

Objectivism & "Metaphysics," Part 9

Rand’s axioms: Identity. Ayn Rand explicates this "axiom" as follows:

To exist is to be something, as distinguished from the nothing of nonexistence, it is to be an entity of a specific nature made of specific attributes. Centuries ago, the man who was—no matter what his errors—the greatest of your philosophers, has stated the formula defining the concept of existence and the rule of all knowledge: A is A. A thing is itself. You have never grasped the meaning of his statement. I am here to complete it: Existence is Identity, Consciousness is Identification.

Identity is the most equivocal of Rand's axioms. The equivocation centers around the word is. The phrase A is A and A thing is itself do not necessarily use the term is in the same sense. A is A merely illustrates the identity of a term of thought with itself. It is unproblematical and obvious because it is tautological. If by a "thing" we mean an object in reality, the identity of thing to itself is not entirely unproblematic. In noting that a A is A, you are merely noting an obvious identity of an essence or a sense-datum with itself. In noting that a thing is itself, you are going beyond the simple identity of terms of thought to making assertion about both existence and the qualities of the existing thing. The phrase A is A is not equivalent to the phrase a thing is itself. They do not describe the same type of identity. A term of thought is always and eternally identical to itself. Not so with a thing, which exists in the flux of nature and is subject to changes in its material constitution, even to the point of destruction. When one asserts a thing is itself, one is not asserting pure identity; on the contrary, one is both asserting the existence of the thing and predicating its attributes. These are very different matters from asserting the identity of a term of thought with itself.

Rand's error stems from conflating various meanings of the word is. When former President Clinton noted "It depends on the meaning of the word is," people laughed, because he was obviously trying to equivocate his way to a dishonest end. But philosophically, his statement was not absurd. The philosopher George Santayana identified at least seven meanings of the word is, and assumed there might be many more. Santayana's seven meanings are as follows:

1. Identity


2. Equivalence


3. Definition


4. Predication


5. Existence


6. Actuality


7. Derivation
   

Very quickly let's examine these five of these seven meanings. Identity is merely the identity of a term of thought with itself, as mentioned above. Equivalence is the identity of words of similar meanings, such as synonyms and words from other languages (i.e., nothing = rien = nichts = nada = niente). Definition is similar to equivalence, except that a phrase is used instead of another word. Predication is not A is A but A is B (as in snow is white), and involves a contradiction if it is confused with identity (i.e., blood is blood and red is red, but although red can be predicated of blood, red is not identical to blood nor is blood identical to red). Existence indicates that a term of thought describes an object or event or process existing in the flux of nature (i.e., instead of A is A, existence merely contends that A is). Actuality and derivation are a bit too complicated to be discussed here, so I will ignore them.

Now it is my contention that Rand and her disciples confuse identity with predication and existence (in other words, Rand confuses A is A with A is B and A is). Consider the following statement, from Galt's speech:

Whatever you choose to consider, be it an object, an attribute or an action, the law of identity remains the same. A leaf cannot be a stone at the same time, it cannot be all red and all green at the same time, it cannot freeze and burn at the same time. A is A.

While it is true that a leaf cannot be a stone "at the same time," this truth is neither self-evident nor a consequence of A is A. The fact that a term of thought is equal to itself has nothing to do with whether a stone can be a leaf "at the same time." The judgment about stones and leaves involves several important presuppositions that, while true, are not logically irrefutable or "self-evident." To understand that a stone cannot be a leaf at the same time one needs to assume the existence of time and change, both of which rely on the trustworthiness of memory (which, of course, is not entirely unproblematic or "axiomatic"). Once time and change are understood, it is easy to infer that a stone cannot be a leaf at the same time, because the phrase at the same time precludes change of any sort, and freezes every object into an instant of eternity. Yet because the world of nature exists in time, this observation is rather trivial and not terribly useful. In the flux of nature, the material substance in a stone may become the material substance used in the constitution of a leaf, so that a stone may in fact become a leaf if enough time is allowed to effect the process. The process of change tends to be far more relevant to understanding the real world than do assertions about the identity of an object to itself at "any given instant in time."

The identity of a term of thought is simple and unproblematical. Not so the "identity" of an object like a leaf or a stone existing in the flux. When we "identify" a leaf or a stone as a leaf or a stone, we do so by noting the attributes of the leaf and stone, which are predicated of the object, and by presuming the object's existence. In other words, such "identification" involves predication and existence, rather than Rand's simple A is A identification.

Even more objectionable, in this context, is a statement by Leonard Peikoff. "A characteristic is an aspect of an existent," he writes. "It is not a disembodied, Platonic universal. Just as a concept cannot mean existents apart from their identity, so it cannot mean identities apart from that which exists. Existence is Identity." If by characteristic Peikoff means something like color or texture, his verbiage here is complete nonsense. A color or a texture is not an aspect of an existent: it is a mental datum that symbolizes a property of the existent. Mental data are "disembodied" (i.e., non-material), Platonic universals! (Of course, such universals don't have the metaphysical powers Plato ascribed to them, but that's a separate issue.) Since such datum can be used as descriptions of properties of other existents, they are indeed "apart" from that which exists. Yellow can be used by the mind to describe both the sun and a buttercup. It can even be contemplated as an object of the "mind's eye," as when we imagine a yellow patch. This yellow, while perfectly identical to itself, is not identical to the property it symbolizes in reality (which is the manner in which an object reflects light). Since knowledge is fundamentally representational, identity is largely irrelevant. Knowledge is not a mirror. A concept or a name is not identical to the object or property which it points to and represents. The concept of a cat is not identical to the existing cat, nor is the name Barack Obama identical to the 44th President. What we seek for in knowledge is not identity, but appropriate representation. Knowledge does not reduplicate existents, it describes them. This description assumes (1) the existence of the object and (2) the reality of the properties that are predicated of the object. Existence, therefore, is not Identity. When I acknowledge that an individual of my acquaintence is John Smith, I'm not claiming that either the name John Smith or my idea or concept of John Smith is identical to the real John Smith. I'm merely noting a naming convention that allows me to be understood when I state my opinion about John Smith to other people. That opinion, even if true down to the minutest detail, will nevertheless not be identical with the real John Smith in the A is A sense of identity. It will be a veracious description, nothing more.

Therefore, when Rand berates her ideological opponents for evading "the fact that A is A," she means something different from what is encaspulated in her axiom of identity. Her opponents, even when wrong, are not guilty of evading A is A. Who denies that a term of thought is equal to itself? If her opponents have evaded any facts of reality, they are guilty of two possible errors: (1) of denying the existence of something that really exists; or (2) denying that some existent has a specific property. In other words, they are guilty of evading, not identity, but either existence or predication (i.e., they are guilty of evading A is or A is B).

Objectivism & "Metaphysics," Part 8

Rand’s axioms: Consciousness and the discovery of other minds. When Rand declared "one exists possessing consciousness, consciousness being the faculty of perceiving that which exists," she believed she was stating an axiomatic truth "fundamentally given and directly perceived." But note the use of the pronoun one, which is intentionally vague. Note that she doesn't say "I exist possessing consciousness." By saying "one exists possessing consciousness," she is making the tacit assumption that everyone exists possessing conscious. But how does she know (in the axiomatic sense of the term) that other people are conscious? Even if (assuming, per impossible, that one's own consciousness is perceived directly) surely we don't perceive the consciousness of other people directly. If so, how can the consciousness of other people, of which we have no direct experience, be regarded as axiomatic? Even if I were to wave my previous objections to Rand's "axiomatic knowledge" and her foundationalist pretensions, I still don't see how Rand can justify the belief that other people's consciousness is axiomatic. Even if it were so for each individual, this knowledge would remain exclusively personal. Each individual might regard his own consciousness as "axiomatic," but he could only accept the consciousness of others on purely non-foundationalist grounds. Such knowledge remains conjectural, even on Objectivist premises.



This issue reinforces the view that objective knowledge (i.e., knowledge that is true absolutely, whether anyone recognizes it or not) is conjectural right from the start. Anything that is "fundamentally given and directly perceived" is only given and perceived by an individual. How does that individual know that such knowledge is "fundamentally given and directly perceived" by others? While the reports of other people may constitute evidence for a given claim of knowledge, it is not clear how the validity of an axiom can depend merely on such reports. The testimony of others is like memory: although often reliable, it can hardly be regarded as infallible or as the foundation of "self-evidence." While there exists compelling reasons to believe that at least some knowledge deserves to be regarded as "objective" and reliable, these reasons don't measure up to the standards required of Rand's axioms.

The discovery of other minds, far from being axiomatic, probably results, as does most of our knowledge, from trial and error, experimentation and pragmatic tests. Contrary to Rand's ex cathedra assertions, the mind is not a blank slate. Interpretative predispositions exist right from the start. It seems likely that one of these predispositions is a tendency to regard events in the world as the outcome of some purpose or intention. The default position for the human mind may very well turn out to be some form of animism, so that our first tendency is to look for intention, will, mind, and consciousness in the objects around us. Only later, after much groping and error, do we begin distinguishing between the animate and the inanimate, the conscious and the unconsciousness. These discoveries are explorative and empirical right from the beginning. Knowledge does not arise (as Rand's axioms appear to) by analyzing "given" existents. A particular "given" existent is merely a piece of datum, blank and staring. Nothing of any significance can be deduced or proved or "validated" from such a datum. Knowledge arises when, instead of staring at our datum, we regard such representations as symbols of an outlying reality the constituents of which can be investigated, tested, analyzed and discovered. As Santayana puts it, "only by exploring the flux of nature, by experience or testimony, ... [can] I judge whether my original description, granting my terms and circumstances, was a fair description of what actually lies there." Even though many of Rand's metaphysical assertions are true, her reasons for them (i.e., her explanation of how they are known and justified) are false. No statement about matters of fact, regardless how obvious or irrefragible it may seem to the intellect, is ever "justified" by either "direct" observation (since observation of fact is never direct) or through the analysis, logical or otherwise, of mental data (and all data are mental). Factual knowledge (which means significant, relevant knowledge) is not only conjectural, but empirical as well; indeed, it is conjectural because it is empirical. It is not through logical analysis, but through empirical practice and experimentation, that we learn which conjectures are reliable and can be used as guides to action and which are suspect and will only lead us astray.

Objectivism & "Metaphysics," Part 7

Rand’s axioms: one exists possessing consciousness. While no sensible person would deny that physiologically normal individuals "possess" consciousness, it is questionable whether such a fact deserves to be embalmed as an Objectivist axiom. Remember that these axioms are, according to Rand, "fundamentally given and directly perceived." Now it must be admitted that consciousness, however obvious its existence may seem to the intelligent observer, is neither given nor directly perceived. All that is "given" is the solipsism of the present moment, out of which no knowledge (including axiomatic knowledge) can ever arise. Knowledge, whether axiomatic or otherwise, requires (among other assumptions) trust in memory and belief that what is given (i.e., some datum or "essence") can serve as a description or symbol of real things or events taking place in a substantive world existing in space and time. Consciousness, far from being given or directly perceived, is only recognized through an act of inference. Since (as even Rand admits) consciousness cannot be conscious merely of itself, direct perception of consciousness is an incoherent notion.




David Hume's "attack" on personal identity is relevant to this issue. In his A Treatise of Human Nature, Hume wrote:

There are some philosophers, who imagine we are every moment intimately conscious of what we call our SELF; that we feel its existence and its continuance in existence; and are certain, beyond the evidence of a demonstration, both of its perfect identity and simplicity. The strongest sensation, the most violent passion, say they, instead of distracting us from this view, only fix it the more intensely, and make us consider their influence on self either by their pain or pleasure. To attempt a farther proof of this were to weaken its evidence; since no proof can be deriv'd from any fact, of which we are so intimately conscious; nor is there any thing, of which we can be certain, if we doubt of this.

Unluckily all these positive assertions are contrary to that very experience, which is pleaded for them, nor have we any idea of self, after the manner it is here explain'd. For from what impression [i.e., perception] cou'd this idea be deriv'd? ... [S]elf or person is not any one impression, but that to which our several impressions and ideas are suppos'd to have a reference. If any impression gives rise to the idea of self, that
impression must continue invariably the same, thro' the whole course of our lives; since self is suppos'd to exist after that manner. But there is no impression constant and invariable. Pain and pleasure, grief and joy, passions and sensations succeed each other, and never all exist at the same time. It cannot, therefore, be from any of these impressions, or from any other, that the idea of self is deriv'd; and consequently there is no such idea.

What Hume says of the self (or "personal identity") is easily transferable to consciousness: these are not realities that can be directly perceived or fundamentally given. They are, rather, inferred from the very process of perceiving. The inference by which intelligence identifies consciousness is so obvious and inescapable that it may seem as if it were given through direct perception. But it clearly isn't.

Another problem with the Objectivist axiom of consciousness is the vagueness of the term itself, especially within Objectivist writings. Rand tended to use it in several different senses, and it is not always clear, in each of her usages of the term, which sense she means. It would seem that, in this axiom, Rand is using consciousness in the sense of raw sentience. Consciousness, in this sense, is merely the light of awareness. Generally speaking, however, she seems to identify consciousness with intellect or mind. At other times, she identifies it with the self or the will, describing it as "the faculty of awareness" and as "an active process." She even goes so far as identify consciousness with knowledge: if "no knowledge of any kind is possible to man," she opined, then "man is not conscious."

As we shall note in later posts, Rand's tendency to play fast and loose with the term consciousness enables her to equivocate her way to precisely the sort of metaphysical conclusions she desires to reach. While the notion of consciousness may seem "inescapable" (at least via inference) to a foundationalist mindset, only consciousness as raw, passive sentience would be "inescapable" in this sense. After all, surely even Rand would not declare that intellect or knowledge are "axiomatic"! This being so, it is not clear how inferences against idealism or traditional monotheism can be justified using this axiom. But more of this anon.

Objectivism & “Metaphysics,” Part 6

Rand’s axioms: Existence exists. Now lets examine the Objectivist axioms, beginning with the axiom of existence. The Objectivist axioms are very instructive as to the dangers of an overly-speculative, rationalistic, largely verbal philosophy. Rand uses the vagueness of her axioms to confuse their tautological meaning with other more problematic meanings. This confusion is at the very heart of the Objectivist axioms.

When we say that some object such as a cat or dog exists, we mean that they have a substantive, independent existence “in reality." Unicorns aren’t recognized as existing or as "real," because no such entity exists in the world of fact and matter. But although unicorns don't exist as real animals, they could be said to exist as an idea or an object of the imagination. If we accept that unicorns exist in this sense, we must also admit that this "non-real" type of existence is very different from the existence that dogs and cats enjoy. It will not do to conflate these two types of existence.


When Objectivists insist that “existence exists,” in what sense do they mean it? In the cat and dog sense, or in the unicorn sense?

“The axiom of Existence states that something exists,” writes David Kelley. “This is the most basic fact of reality. It is simply the statement that there is reality; that whatever there is, is, that whatever one perceives is there to be perceived.”


From these statements, it seems that Objectivism endorses the cat and dog sense of existence. Existence exists becomes merely a pithy way of saying reality exists. Yet Kelley later on backs away from this interpretation: “Notice that [none of the Objectivst axioms make] any specific statement about the nature of what exists. For example, the axiom of existence does not assert the existence of a physical or material world as opposed to a mental one.” [The Logical Structure of Objectivism, 20-22]

So it would appear that existence is used in the unicorn sense. Existence exists merely indicates that something, however ephemeral, exists. It could be a mere idea or essence or image, entirely mythical, like the unicorn. If so, how can Kelley describe this idea as a “basic fact of reality” or equate the phrase existence exists with the phrase reality exists. If all that exists is a stream of essences trickling through consciousness, how can that be described as reality—or, even worse, as a fact of reality?

If we examine all this from a foundationalist mindset (a mindset which Objectivists must honor if they wish to remain consistent), it is clear that the Objectivist axiom of existence fails to deliver what it promises. In the sense that it is foundationally true and obvious (i.e., in the unicorn sense), it is merely an empty, mostly irrelevant tautology. In the sense that it is meaningful, it is neither obvious nor self-evident, but is problematic and conjectural. Kelley describes axioms as “statements validated directly by perceptual observation.” While all sane people believe that existence exists in the cat and dog sense of the term, this belief is not “validated” by direct perceptual observation. Our belief in reality (and it is only a belief) is based on something far more complex and enduring than mere observation. A man, if he has drunk enough whiskey, may observe a pink elephant riding on a unicorn. Yet to say that this pink elephant exists because the drunk is conscious of it is to lapse into palpable idealism. It is only when we have brought intelligence and our practical sense of things (which is based on memory, the “validity” of which is deeply problematical and hardly self-evident) to bear on this observation that we can determine that it is far from real.

To say that “something” exists in the unicorn sense of the term constitutes no great insight into the foundations of knowledge or reality. Who denies it? Objectivists are under the illusion that there exists this large contingent of philosophers that deny the axiom existence exists in the trivial, unicorn sense of the phrase. But strange to say, they cannot produce any such philosopher.

Rand's Gas Chamber

The National Review's Jason Lee Steorts makes a good catch - and perhaps finds the underlying inspiration for Whittaker Chambers' infamous "To the gas chamber - go!" remark in his original review (Greg revisits Chambers' review here). He points out that "Atlas Shrugged" does in fact contain a gas chamber - the ghastly Winston Tunnel scene, where those who are unfortunate enough to hold the wrong philosophical premises get death by asphyxiation, their final moments approvingly illuminated by the torch of Randian justice.

Objectivism & “Metaphysics,” Part 5

Memory and the Objectivist Axioms. Rand defined in axiom as “a statement that identifies the base of knowledge and of any further statement pertaining to that knowledge, a statement necessarily contained in all others, whether any particular speaker chooses to identify it or not.” The big three axioms in Objectivism are those of existence, consciousness, and identity. These, we would assume, are at the “base of knowledge, “irreducible primaries,” as Rand put it. Yet, irreducible and primary as they may be, they do rest on something else which Rand somehow fails to identify: namely, memory. All claims of knowledge rest on the trustworthiness of memory. Any claim of knowledge, "axiomatic" or otherwise, would be impossible were memory always false or an illusory faculty. Why is this so? It’s really quite simple. Any sort of analysis, including the analysis that yields the Objectivist axioms of existence, consciousness, and identity, presupposes the reliability of memory. All analysis involves the survey of particular datum (ideas or concepts) which require repetition. Consider, for example, a very simple syllogism:

Every man is mortal.
Socrates is a man.
Therefore, Socrates is mortal.

This syllogism involves the repetition of man, mortal, Socrates, and is. In order for this syllogism to be valid, we must be correct in identifying the first instance of each of these terms with the second instance, and this involves an act of memory. As Santayana explained:

Thus any survey which is analytic, so that it gives foothold for demonstration, or any definition following upon such analysis, presupposes the repetition of the same essences [i.e., concepts, ideas, etc.] in different contexts. This presupposition cannot be justified by the [datum] occupying the mind at any one time. No more can the assurance that a term remains the same in two successive instances and in two different contexts, nor that what is asserted by a predicate is asserted of the very subject which before had been intuited without that predicate. Explication is a process, a deduction is an event ; and although the force of logical analysis or synthesis does not depend on assuming that fact, but rather on ignoring it, this fact may be deduced from faith in the validity of demonstration, which would lapse if this fact were denied. The validity of demonstration is accordingly a matter of faith only, depending on the assumption of matters of fact incapable of demonstration. I must believe that I noted the terms of the argument separately and successively if I am to assert anything in identifying them or pronouncing them equivalent, or if the conclusion in which they appear now is to be relevant in any way to the premises in which they appeared originally. Thus any survey which is analytic, so that it gives foothold for demonstration, or any definition following upon such analysis, presupposes the repetition of the same essences in different contexts. [Scepticism and Animal Faith, 118]

Since Rand’s axioms cannot be identified without assuming memory, it would seem that memory would have to be included at the base of knowledge. So why didn’t Rand include it? Obviously, this is a major oversight on Rand’s part.

If Rand had not failed to include memory as part of her “base of knowledge,” how would she have gone about “validating” it? Most likely, she would have resorted to the same trick as with her other axioms: she would have contended that any attempt to deny memory must first assume it. However, not only is this line of reasoning open to the objections I raised to it in the previous post, it has about it a sophistical flavor which would be far more transparent were it not used to defend views which all sane people accept. People tend to accept any argument, no matter how suspect, when it is used to defend core beliefs. To argue that a principle is “self-evident” and “axiomatic” because it cannot be “denied” without first assuming it involves presuppositions that can easily be doubted and challenged. It hardly forms a criterion of “self-evidence,” and it is mere presumption to contend that it does. For if it did, why didn’t Rand resort to it more often? She could have made use of it, for instance, in “validating” concepts: for isn’t it true that concepts can only be denied by first making use of them? Yet Rand did not make use of this mode of argumentation in validating her concepts, instead opting for an argument that featured even greater opacity. Why was this? Perhaps because even she did not have complete trust in it.

The real error behind all this sterile rationalization upon which Rand attempted to build her metaphysics is the notion that matters of fact can be determined by logical, rhetorical, or moral constructions. Knowledge does not grow from such otiose web spinning. Knowledge arises to fill pressing animal needs, and grows and develops under the stress of the practical demands of everyday life and from scientific experimentation. Knowledge neither requires, nor can be justified, in logic or “self-evidence.” Foundationalism is as unnecessary as it is false and empty. Knowledge can only be justified (provisionally) either in daily practice or (better yet) through rigorous empirical (i.e., scientific) tests.

Objectivism & “Metaphysics,” Part 4

Nothing is self-evident. Central to the Objectivist metaphysics is the notion that there are certain premises or “axioms” that are “self-evident.” This notion of self-evidence is at the very root of Rand’s foundationalism and must be challenged before we go any further.

Rand once claimed that, “ Nothing is self-evident except the material of sensory perception.” However, the Objectivist “axioms” are also regarded as self-evident, even though it is not clear in what sense these axioms can be regarded as “material of sensory perception” (or even what “material of sensory perception” is supposed to mean!). In dealing with the Objectivist metaphysics, “we must speak by the card, or equivocation will undo us.”

David Kelley defined an axiom as “a self-evident principle that is implicit in all knowledge.” How is an axiom “self-evident”? What does this self-evidence rest on? Objectivists resort to a rather strained argument that convinces only those who wish to be convinced. “An axiom is a proposition that defeats its opponents by the fact that they have to accept it and use it in the process of any attempt to deny it,” explained Rand [emphasis added]. In other words, according to Rand, an axiom is true and self-evident because you cannot refute it without assuming its validity. However, is this notion of how an axiom is true and self-evident also self-evident? And if it is not, how can Rand claim that her axioms are self-evident?

Here’s one problem: Rand claims that every one of her axioms are assumed in the attempt to deny them. How does she know this? Is she familiar with all the potential arguments that can be essayed against them? Of course not: she can’t be familiar with every attempt to deny them. Therefore her assertion is based on a kind of inference—namely, an inductive inference. Now whatever Rand or anyone else thinks of induction, such inferences can hardly be reckoned as self-evident. Therefore, her very belief that her axioms can only be denied by assuming them does not carry with it the stamp of self-evidence, which her axioms require to pass muster.

There’s another problem as well. It seems that Rand did not really understand extreme skepticism, that she may very well have been guilty of confusing the necessary presuppositions of her own philosophy with those of the skeptic. As Santayana noted,

The sceptic is not committed to the implications of other men’s language; nor can he be convicted out of his own mouth by the names he is obliged to bestow on the details of his momentary vision. There may be long vistas in it ; there may be many figures of men and beasts, many legends and apocalypses depicted on his canvas ; there may even be a shadowy frame about it, or the suggestion of a gigantic ghostly some thing on the hither side of it which he may call himself. All this wealth of objects is not inconsistent with solipsism, although the implication of the conventional terms in which those objects are described may render it difficult for the solipsist always to remember his solitude. Yet when he reflects, he perceives it; and all his heroic efforts are concentrated on not asserting and not implying anything, but simply noticing what he finds. Scepticism is not concerned to abolish ideas ; it can relish the variety and order of a pictured world, or of any number of them in succession, without any of the qualms and exclusions proper to dogmatism. Its case is simply not to credit these ideas, not to posit any of these fancied worlds, nor this ghostly mind imagined as viewing them. [Scepticism and Animal Faith, 15-16]

In short, Rand seems to have forgotten that denying existence means denying that the images of sense relate to an external, substantive world of fact, existing in time and space. Positing a world from the data of sense can never be “self-evident.” The only thing that is “evident” to the self is the passing rush of datum across the mind’s sentience. Yet none of these datum, taken by themselves, can be evidence of anything until we assume they are signs of outward things existing in reality. And that assumption, although true, is hardly “self-evident.”

Objectivism & “Metaphysics,” Part 3

Objectivism’s revolt against representationalism. David Kelley describes representationalism as follows:

[Representationalism] is the view that we are directly aware only of internal sense contents, from which we must infer external objects. (And this view is adopted because the representationalist shares with the traditional realist the assumption that direct awareness must be diaphanous [i.e., awareness must be passive and transparent, and there must exist no difference between the physical object in reality and how it appears in consciousness]. Every argument for representationalism reduces in one way or another to the core argument: Direct awareness is diaphanous; the perception of physical objects is not diaphanous; therefore perception is not direct.)

Kelley is guilty here of overstating his case. What he says about every argument for representationalism may be true of Descartes and Locke; but it’s hardly true of the American critical realists, of philosophers such as Arthur Lovejoy and George Santayana. Representationalism, to such philosophers, is merely an obvious corollary to the basic notions of realism. If both consciousness and matter exist, the perception of matter by consciousness must be achieved through some kind of medium, since a physical object cannot literally enter into consciousness. And since through experience we know that people have percepts, concepts, ideas and other mental datum that are obviously not identical with whatever material objects they may be associated with, representationalism, for the realist, becomes de rigueur. Objectivism, despite its rejection of representationalism, is, implicitly, a representationalist philosophy. Nearly every philosophy is at least implicitly representationalist. The only exception would be a philosophy that preached the solipsism of the present moment. As long as the philosopher believes that one idea or concept can serve as a symbol or a sign for something other than that idea or concept, he is, at least implicitly, a representationalist. Rand believes in concepts that are not identical to their object in reality. Therefore, she is a representationalist. Most idealists believe in time, that is, in a past and a future, and in a memory that can know the past. But what is memory but a representation of what is not present in consciousness? Therefore, idealists are representationalists as well, at least in terms of the past.


Why does Objectivism reject representationalism? According to Rand's chief disciples, representationalism (allegedly) holds that individuals can only know their representations—that is, the sense data perceived by the mind. The objects in reality that this sense data “represents” are “unknowable” (as Kant argued) and at best can only be inferred. In short, representationalism cuts the mind off from reality, leaving the mind only with the representations.

Now this is a caricature of representationalism inspired by the confusions of Immanuel Kant. Philosophers such as Kant believed that knowledge should be certain, and so they were driven to ask the question: If I know things only by representations, are not the representations the only things I know?

George Santayana answered this question as follows:

This challenge is fundamental, and so long as the assumptions which it makes are not challenged in turn, it drives critics of knowledge inexorably to scepticism of a dogmatic sort, I mean to the assertion that the very notion of knowledge is absurd…. Plato and many other philosophers … have identified science with certitude, and consequently entirely condemned what I call knowledge (which is a form of animal faith) or relegated it to an inferior position, as something merely necessary for life…. Knowledge is no such thing…. Knowledge ... is belief: belief in a world of events, and especially of those parts of it which are near the self, tempting or threatening it. This belief is native to animals, and precedes all deliberate use of intuitions as signs or descriptions of things... Furthermore, knowledge is true belief. It is such an enlightening of the self by intuitions arising there, that what the self imagines and asserts of the collateral thing, with which it wrestles in action, is actually true of that thing. Truth in such presumptions or conceptions does not imply adequacy, nor a pictorial identity between the essence in intuition [i.e, the representation] and the constitution of the object. Discourse is a language, not a mirror. The images in sense are parts of discourse, not parts of nature : they are the babble of our innocent organs under the stimulus of things ; but these spontaneous images, like the sounds of the voice, may acquire the function of names ; they may become signs, if discourse is intelligent and can recapitulate its phases, for the things sought or encountered in the world. The truth which discourse can achieve is truth in its own terms, appropriate description: it is no incorporation or reproduction of the object in the mind. The mind notices and intends ; it cannot incorporate or reproduce anything not an intention or an intuition…. Therefore any degree of inadequacy and originality is tolerable in discourse, or even requisite, when the constitution of the objects which the animal encounters is out of scale with his organs, or quite heterogeneous from his possible images. A sensation or a theory, no matter how arbitrary its terms (and all language is perfectly arbitrary), will be true of the object, if it expresses some true relation in which that object stands to the self, so that these terms are not misleading as signs, however poetical they may be as sounds or as pictures. [Scepticism and Animal Faith, 170-180]

Rand and her disciples take an entirely different approach to the question If I know things only by representations, are not the representations the only things I know? They simply evade it. Objectivism claims that human beings have direct awareness through perception of external objects. For an Objectivist, direct means: without conceptual processing. This, however, merely evades the problem by redefining the term direct. What is at issue is whether perception uses representations: and all the evidence available to us suggests very strongly that perception is every bit as symbolic and representative as is conception. The very fact that a percept is not identical to its object establishes that the percept is a representation. Visual perception clearly brings forth, within the mind, a field of images. If there exist any doubt on this subject, one merely has to observe that the lens and cornea of the human eye actually invert or turn the image displayed on the retina upside down. The brain then proceeds to turn the image field right side up for viewing in the field of consciousness. Hence what we “see” “directly” in consciousness are images, not the physical objects. After all, the mind, when it flips the image field right-side up, does not flip right side up the real world. It flips over a field of representations. Moreover, if individuals are told to wear special glasses that reverse the field of vision, so that the image is displayed on the retina right-side up, while they at first perceive the world as upside down, if the wear the glasses long enough, the brain automatically reorientates the field of vision right-side up. So visual perception can hardly be seen as “direct.” Consciousness, before it can become aware of material objects, must translate the data read by the senses into a language that the consciousness can read and interpret. The point of perception is not to duplicate or mirror physical objects, but, as Santayana put it, to express “some true relation in which that object stands to the self.” Representationalism, far from rendering knowledge impossible, provides the explanation of how it is that one mode of existence (i.e., consciousness) can become cognizant of a very different mode (i.e., the physical world). Those who equate representationalism with “knowing only our representations” are guilty of making a false demand of knowledge. They demand that knowledge be certain and direct. Knowledge is no such thing. Knowledge attempts to make us aware of objects existing outside of consciousness. It is transitive and symbolic and conjectural right from the very start. Whether described as “perceptual” or “conceptual,” knowledge is indirect, mediated by symbols, which help reduce physical objects to a scale amenable to human intelligence. No logical proof or foundationalist rationalization can validate this indirect, symbolic knowledge. It involves a conjectural leap. We must take nature by the hand, and assume the symbols which arise in consciousness represent objects or events in a physical world. Once we take this leap, we will find our faith justified, not by logic, but by praxis. It is the practical necessities of life, the urgent biological needs of the human organism, that force us to take this conjectural leapand become tacit and practical realists, despite whatever foundationalist or idealist misgivings we may entertain.

Objectivism & “Metaphysics,” Part 2

Basic presuppositions of realism. Realism is the view that physical objects exist independently of being perceived (that is to say, physical objects exist whether they are perceived or not). What is presupposed in such a view?

1. That physical objects exist.
2. That there exists something that perceives these physical objects.
3. That the independence of physical objects does not imply complete separation from the perceiver, that there exists some kind of connection between the object and the perceiver of the object.

From these three presupposition we can flesh out the realist position. Realism believes in a physical existence and a sentient perceiver, in other words, matter and consciousness. The belief that the universe is made up primarily of matter and consciousness is known as psychophysical dualism. Most Objectivists reject this dualism, identifying it with the mind-body dichotomy of Plato. Only Harry Binswanger has suggested that Objectivism is consistent with psychophysical dualism:

What's called dualism is the bogey of philosophy. Since Descartes is wrong in regard to the primacy of consciousness, people smear him that anything he ever said is wrong. And one thing that he said was there's a mind and a body. Now that's right….

Dualism is a dangerous term because of its being used for a strawman. But if you mean: Do we believe there are really two existents? Yes! The mind exists and the brain exists—and neither is the other. As I said, shape exists and color exists—and neither is the other. There are many cases of two attributes of the same entity, neither of which can be reduced to the other…. So, yes, I'm a dualist. Or as Leonard [Peikoff] says in OPAR, because the term dualism is not one we have to fight to save and it's so associated with Descartes, the proper word for it is: Objectivism, not dualism. We have our own distinct view here. But if you had to put it in the historical classification, yeah, we're not monists. We believe that both consciousness and matter exist and neither is reducible to the other.

Depiste this rather tepid acknowledgement of dualism, some Objectivists were shocked by Binswanger’s allegiance with so “dangerous” a term. Yet realism implies psychophysical dualism, so that if you are a logically consistent realist, you must, ipso facto, be a psychophysical dualist.

Realism also believes that consciousness is capable of perceiving matter. This is a more difficult proposition to elucidate, particularly for foundationalists like Rand, who wish to provide a veneer of logic for their chief assertions. In the main, there are two groups of theories: (1) direct realism, which posits that we perceive physical objects without mediation, so that physical objects exist precisely as we see them; (2) indirect realism, which posits that we perceive all objects through the medium of ideas, that, in effect, there exists a dualism between physical objects and how they are represented in consciousness. Most theories of realism, including Rand’s, are convoluted attempts to combine direct and indirect realism. They are all involved in what the realist philosopher Arthur Lovejoy called “the revolt against dualism.” None of these confused realists are comfortable admitting that reality is perceived through the medium of ideas, because this insight inevitably stresses the provisional, conjectural nature of knowledge.

So to sum up: the hypothesis of realism, when fleshed out, involves belief in two dualisms:

1. Psychophysical dualism (i.e., the belief that matter and consciousness exist).
2. Epistemological dualism (i.e., the belief that mind perceives material objects through the veil of ideas—i.e., representationalism).

Is there any reasons for believing that realism, along with these two dualisms, is true? I will turn to this subject in the next post.

Epic Fail - Update

The awesome $5m movie of Rand's epic Atlas Shrugged has wrapped. Below, fitness equipment entrepreneur and first time movie producer John Aglialaro provides us with an alleged "teaser":

Atlas Shrugged teaser from The Atlas Society on Vimeo.

Dust Up At Ground Zero

I haven't been paying much attention to the latest burgeoning Objecto-schism regarding the proposed mosque near - well, four blocks away from - Ground Zero in New York. Leonard Peikoff wants it stopped, despite the legitimacy, in Objectivism, of the owners property rights to build whatever they want on the land they own. This has created some consternation even in Orthodox Objectivist circles, where Peikoff's every word is usually slavishly adhered to. BenSix in comments helpfully supplies this article on the palaver. The upshot is that the application of Randian property rights turns out in practice to be as unclear to Randians as it is to anyone else. The subtext is quite possibly Palace politics in Orthodox Objectivism, as the weathervanes swirl in the vacuum increasingly surrounding the frail Peikoff.

Objectivism & “Metaphysics,” Part 1

Preliminaries. What on earth is all this nonsense that goes under the name “metaphysics”? Rand defined metaphysics as “the study of existence as such or, in Aristotle’s words, of ‘being qua being.’” Well, that sure narrows it down! More insightful is George Santayana’s take on the subject:

Metaphysics, in the proper sense of the word, is dialectical physics, or an attempt to determine matters of fact by means of logical or moral or rhetorical constructions. It arises by a confusion of those Realms of Being which it is my special care to distinguish. It is neither physical speculation nor pure logic nor honest literature, but (as in the treatise of Aristotle first called by that name) a hybrid of the three, materialising ideal entities, turning harmonies into forces, and dissolving natural things into terms of discourse. Speculations about the natural world, such as those of the Ionian philosophers, are not metaphysics, but simply cosmology or natural philosophy. [Scepticism and Animal Faith, vii]

I have tended to follow Santayana’s usage of the word, regarding metaphysics as, in the main, empirically irresponsible speculation. Even when used to defend postulates that are basically sound, metaphysics remains, in the words of F. H. Bradley, “the finding of bad reasons for what we believe upon instinct.”



There is, however, one other usage of the word that should be noted. Karl Popper applied the word metaphysics to any claims or conjectures that are not empirically testable. Popper’s usage, while entirely blameless, is not one I normally honor.

Now following Santayana’s usage, I inevitably open myself up to complaints, often introduced in an angry tone, that, I too, have a metaphysics; that indeed, “having a metaphysics” is inevitable, since everyone has a “basic view of the world,” that is to say, a “metaphysics.” However, following Santayana, I don’t choose to call my so-called “basic view” of the universe metaphysical. It is merely, as Santayana calls it, cosmology or natural philosophy. And I entirely reject any attempt to determine matters of fact by means of logical or moral or rhetorical constructions. Such devices, I hold, cannot lead to truth, but only encourage rationalization and empty speculation.

What, then, is my “basic view of the universe”? In the broad essentials, it is not so different from Rand’s. It involves the fundamental assumptions involved in living. I presuppose, for instance, the existence of time, including a past that is gone and a future that is to come; the existence of a physical universe made up of gross objects in space; and the existence of consciousness, which perceives existence through the veil of ideas. Unlike Rand, I don’t believe these basic presuppositions can be defended or validated via axioms or logical argumentation. All these fundamental presuppositions may conceivably be illusory—that is to say, the arguments against them cannot be decisively refuted. They are presuppositions which nature has bred in us (probably via evolution) and which have proved their worth, not by logic, but through centuries of practice. They neither require nor are amenable to logical justification.

Rand takes a very different approach. She is an extreme foundationalist who believes that man’s fundamental presuppositions requires explicit logical justification; that in the absence of this justification, people will lose their ability to think for themselves and will become incapable of supporting a free society. Is there any evidence to support this contention? None that is convincing. The belief that all human contentions and presuppositions require explicit philosophical justification constitutes a false demand. Few people understand, let alone care, about such arcana. Rand’s foundationalism only serves to encourage rationalization, verbalism, essentialism, and other modes of empty speculation, and is often symptomatic of a dogmatic turn of mind that has trouble accepting the provisional and conjectural nature of knowledge. Rather than being an ally of realism, foundationalism tends to undermine it, as it forces the philosopher to adopt premises that are at odds with realism.

But more on this anon.

Defending the Impossible

Over at amazon.com, there's a bit of a philosophical duel going on between myself and Rand apologist Paul Beaird. While it hardly reaches the exalted rank of Lincoln-Douglass or Wilberforce-Huxley, it will give Rand watchers a chance to witness an intelligent advocate of Rand trying to defend three impossible positions, namely: (1) that Rand logically derived an ought from an is, a value from a fact; (2) that there exists no equivocation between "man's life" and "man's survival qua man"; and (3) that Hume denied the possibility of any connection between fact and value. Since these positions are indefensible, Mr. Beaird spends most of his time try to divert attention through various debating tricks, particular the old the best defense is a good offense trick. Instead of defending Rand, he attacks what he imagines are my failings, with predictable results.

Empirical responsibility is not exactly one of Mr. Beaird's virtues. He twice insists that "Rand's use of observable facts and the relationships between them [which facts and relationships are those? can he state any?] to demonstrate the natural foundation of the concept 'value' is so well-known by now that, for you to still insist Hume had not been refuted reveals an uncomprehending mind..." Of course, no evidence is brought forth to back this extraordinary claim. Rand critic Michael Huemer expresses a very different point of view:

Objectivists seem to find "The Objectivist Ethics" completely convincing. But hardly anyone else finds it at all convincing. This is not a trivial observation—one often finds that people who do not accept a whole philosophical system nevertheless find certain parts of it plausible. And one often finds that people who are not ultimately persuaded by an argument nevertheless see some plausibility in it. But neither of these things is true of the argument of “The Objectivist Ethics”—hardly anyone finds that argument even slightly plausible, unless they also buy into virtually all of Ayn Rand’s views. This is not true of most of her other views: one would not be surprised to find a non-Objectivist who nevertheless thinks Rand’s political views are reasonable, or her epistemological views, or her aesthetic theories. The explanation is simple: the theory of “The Objectivist Ethics” is simultaneously the most distinctive and the least plausible, worst defended of all of Rand’s major ideas. (Here is a nicer way to say that: all of Rand’s other major theories are more plausible and better defended than that one.)

Now who is right? Is Rand's argument in "The Objectivist Ethics" so "well known by now" that only an "uncomprehending mind" would fail to understand that Rand had "refuted" Hume? Or is the argument only accepted by Objectivists, who are committed to accepting everything by Rand, in defiance of fact and logic? Huemer's contention is by far the more plausible. I can't think of a single non-Objectivist who accepts Rand's argument. And most people have never heard of it at all, and would not be able to make heads or tails of it if it were explained to them.

In my exchange with Mr. Beaird, I have made repeated calls for Beaird or any other Objectivist to back their talk and produce this marvelous refutation of Hume. Of course, no such proof will ever be produced. Ironically, however, the aforementioned Michael Huemer has attempted to state the Objectivist argument in logical form. I have linked to it before, but its worth the occasional perusal. Huemer finds all of Rand's premises to be dubious for one reason or another. Nor is Huemer able to complete the chain of reasoning all the way to Rand's "man qua man." That, of course, is impossible, since it involves a palpable equivocation ("'man qua man' and 'rational' [are] fudge words" is Huemer's verdict).

Objectivism & Politics, Part 58

Ayn Rand contra Libertarianism 3. In my last two posts, I have detailed the inadequacy of Rand’s arguments against Libertarianism. Rand’s arguments are so bad that it raises questions as to her real motives in the whole business. If she had a clear, rational case against Libertarianism, wouldn’t she have presented such a case and left it at that? But she does no such thing. Instead, her arguments appear drenched in malice and petty resentment. Libertarians, she inveighs, are a “monstrous, disgusting bunch of people” who stole all their ideas from Objectivism and yet have the gall to consort with anarchists and (horror of horrors!) religious conservatives. Now if Libertarianism really is as bad as Rand would have us believe, why did Rand have to resort to name calling and illogical guilt-by-association arguments? I have several conjectures on this score, as listed below.


Conjecture 1: Logical deduction from Rand’s basic premises. Rand’s admirers would have us believe that her views of Libertarianism are merely deductions from the principles of Objectivism. From Rand’s views of history and psychology, she concluded that bad arguments do more harm than outright opposition. This being the case, Libertarians really are “worse” than Marxists and communists, because their bad arguments cause more harm to freedom and capitalism than outright opposition.

While it may be true that Rand’s hostility toward Libertarians was, in part at least, motivated by this factor, it still doesn’t explain why Rand made so many bad arguments against Libertarians. Indeed, it seems altogether anomalous. If bad arguments are worse than outright opposition, then Rand, if she were consistent, would not compound the fault by issuing bad arguments against Libertarianism. If she opposed Libertarianism because its apologists refused to provide good arguments for capitalism and freedom, she hardly did her own cause any favors by issuing even worse arguments against Libertarianism.

Conjecture 2: Vanity motive. Rand had a very high opinion of her ability to persuade people. She regarded her conviction that capitalism requires a “moral base” (i.e., that capitalism should be defended with moral arguments) as a special insight which would allow her political ideals to triumph. However, Rand struggled to find other prominent supporters of capitalism and freedom who shared this view. When Rand’s essay “Textbook of Americanism” was passed around among the donors and staff members of FEE, the first libertarian think tank, few were impressed with Rand’s arguments. One reader complained of Rand’s “illogical jargon,” while another complained that the “line of logic” which Rand used in the essay was “very weak.” [Burns, Goddess of the Market, 119] In short, even those who sympathized with Rand’s political ideals found her arguments unpersuasive. Imagine how galling that must have been to Rand that even people who shared her political convictions found her arguments unconvincing!

Perhaps, then, it was merely disappointed vanity that set Rand against libertarians. Since they refused to bow down and let her be their intellectual leader, following and agreeing with her every pronouncement, she concluded they had to be her worst enemies.

Conjecture 2: Jealousy. Perhaps Rand simply resented that some defenders of freedom and capitalism had more success or were taken more seriously than she was. In the forties, the most successful book defending freedom was Hayek’s Road to Serfdom. Rand hostility toward Hayek was immediate and vitriolic. She regarded Hayek as “pure poison” and “an example of our most pernicious enemy.” “The man is an ass,” she wrote, “[The Road to Serfdom] had no base, no moral base. This is why my book is needed.” [ibid, 104-105] This final boast suggests that Rand regarded Hayek as a rival, and that jealousy may have played a role in her overwrought denunciations of his book.

Perhaps Rand’s hatred of Libertarians was fueled, at least in part, by jealously of other intellectuals such as Rothbard, Hospers, and Nozick. Perhaps this explains her bitter contention that Libertarians were merely cheap publicity seekers. Maybe she resented that they were getting more attention than she was, or less negative attention, as the case might be.

Or perhaps Rand merely resented that Libertarians were be given credit for ideas that Rand thought she herself was responsible for. Maybe she was jealous that she wasn’t being given all or most of the credit for these ideas.

Conjecture 4: Resentment against excommunicated Objectivists. Many Libertarians were former Objectivists; a few were even close disciples of Rand. Perhaps Rand resented that Libertarian these former Objectivist apostates a safe haven.

Now which, if any, of these conjectures is true (or at least true in parts) I will leave to the reader to decide. Apologists for Rand might insist that conjectures two through four must be wrong, because Rand was incapable of vanity, jealousy, and resentment. This, however, is a rather implausible assertion difficult to find creditable. Vanity, jealousy, and resentment are emotions deep within the warp and woof of human nature. Denying these emotions on the ground that this human nature doesn't exist only encourages thinkers like Rand to ignore and repress what they really do feel, rather than confronting these troublesome emotions and taking effective psychological counter-measures against them. It is precisely those who deny human nature that are most vulnerable to its less pleasant manifestations. Rand’s claim that she didn’t have these disagreeable emotions because, after all, she was a woman of self-made soul, is no more creditable than someone denying that his or her organism produces disagreeable body odors. Ironically, it’s precisely the individual who makes such a claim who winds up stinking. The rest of us, recognizing that are bodies, if left to their own devices, will inevitably produce unpleasant odors, resort to such effective counter-measures as bathing and deodorant.

Note: this will be the last post in the current "Objectivism and Politics" series. Although there exists a great deal more territory that could be covered relating to politics, I think we have touched most of the major issues and can proceed to other areas of Rand's philosophy.