I received this post on another list and I thought some on TIPS might enjoy it as I did. No comment from me but I encourage the more philosophically-inclined on TIPS to tell us what they think about it. -Stephen ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Stephen Black, Ph.D. tel: (819) 822-9600 ext 2470 Department of Psychology fax: (819) 822-9661 Bishop's University e-mail: [EMAIL PROTECTED] Lennoxville, QC J1M 1Z7 Canada Department web page at http://www.ubishops.ca/ccc/div/soc/psy ------------------------------------------------------------------------ >From: http://ase.tufts.edu/cogstud/papers/postmod.tru.htm > >FINAL DRAFT >for World Congress of Philosophy >August 13, 1998 >Daniel C. Dennett >Postmodernism and Truth(1) >Here is a story you probably haven't heard, about how a team of >American researchers inadvertently introduced a virus into a third >world country they were studying. They were experts in their field, and >they had the best intentions; they thought they were helping the people >they were studying, but in fact they had never really seriously >considered whether what they were doing might have ill effects. It had >not occurred to them that a side-effect of their research might be >damaging to the fragile ecology of the country they were studying. The >virus they introduced had some dire effects indeed: it raised infant >mortality rates, led to a general decline in the health and wellbeing >of women and children, and, perhaps worst of all, indirectly undermined >the only effective political force for democracy in the country, >strengthening the hand of the traditional despot who ruled the nation. >These American researchers had something to answer for, surely, but >when confronted with the devastation they had wrought, their response >was frustrating, to say the least: they still thought that what they >were doing was, all things considered, in the interests of the people, >and declared that the standards by which this so-called devastation was >being measured were simply not appropriate. Their critics, they >contended, were trying to impose "Western" standards in a cultural >environment that had no use for such standards. In this strange defense >they were warmly supported by the country's leaders--not >surprisingly--and little was heard--not surprisingly--from those who >might have been said, by Western standards, to have suffered as a >result of their activities. >These researchers were not biologists intent on introducing new strains >of rice, nor were they agri-business chemists testing new pesticides, >or doctors trying out vaccines that couldn't legally be tested in the >U.S.A. They were postmodernist science critics and other >multiculturalists who were arguing, in the course of their professional >researches on the culture and traditional "science" of this country, >that Western science was just one among many equally valid narratives, >not to be "privileged" in its competition with native traditions which >other researchers--biologists, chemists, doctors and others--were eager >to supplant. The virus they introduced was not a macromolecule but a >meme (a replicating idea): the idea that science was a "colonial" >imposition, not a worthy substitute for the practices and beliefs that >had carried the third-world country to its current condition. And the >reason you have not heard of this particular incident is that I made it >up, to dramatize the issue and to try to unsettle what seems to be >current orthodoxy among the literati about such matters. But it is >inspired by real incidents--that is to say, true reports. Events of >just this sort have occurred in India and elsewhere, reported, >movingly, by a number of writers, among them: >Meera Nanda, "The Epistemic Charity of the Social Constructivist >Critics of Science and Why the Third World Should Refuse the Offer," in >N. Koertge, ed., A House Built on Sand: Exposing Postmodernist Myths >about Science, Oxford University Press, 1998, pp286-311 >Reza Afshari, "An Essay on Islamic Cultural Relativism in the Discourse >of Human Rights," in Human Rights Quarterly, 16, 1994, pp.235-76. >Susan Okin, "Is Multiculturalism Bad for Women?" Boston Review, >October/November, 1997, pp 25-28. >Pervez Hoodbhoy, Islam and Science: Religious Orthodoxy and the Battle >for Rationality, London and New Jersey, Zed Books Ltd. 1991. >My little fable is also inspired by a wonderful remark of E. O. Wilson, >in Atlantic Monthly a few months ago: "Scientists, being held >responsible for what they say, have not found postmodernism useful." >Actually, of course, we are all held responsible for what we say. The >laws of libel and slander, for instance, exempt none of us, but most of >us--including scientists in many or even most fields--do not typically >make assertions that, independently of libel and slander >considerations, might bring harm to others, even indirectly. A handy >measure of this fact is the evident ridiculousness we discover in the >idea of malpractice insurance for . . . . literary critics, >philosophers, mathematicians, historians, cosmologists. What on earth >could a mathematician or literary critic do, in the course of executing >her profession duties, that might need the security blanket of >malpractice insurance? She might inadvertently trip a student in the >corridor, or drop a book on somebody's head, but aside from such outr� >side-effects, our activities are paradigmatically innocuous. One would >think. But in those fields where the stakes are higher--and more >direct--there is a longstanding tradition of being especially cautious, >and of taking particular responsibility for ensuring that no harm >results (as explicitly honored in the Hippocratic Oath). Engineers, >knowing that thousands of people's safety may depend on the bridge they >design, engage in focussed exercises with specified constraints >designed to determine that, according to all current knowledge, their >designs are safe and sound. Even economists--often derided for the >risks they take with other people's livelihoods--when they find >themselves in positions to endorse specific economic measures >considered by government bodies or by their private clients, are known >to attempt to put a salutary strain on their underlying assumptions, >just to be safe. They are used to asking themselves, and to being >expected to ask themselves: "What if I'm wrong?" We others seldom ask >ourseles this question, since we have spent our student and >professional lives working on topics that are, according both to >tradition and common sense, incapable of affecting any lives in ways >worth worrying about. If my topic is whether or not Vlastos had the >best interpretation of Plato's Parmenides or how the wool trade >affected imagery in Tudor poetry, or what the best version of string >theory says about time, or how to recast proofs in topology in some new >formalism, if I am wrong, dead wrong, in what I say, the only damage I >am likely to do is to my own scholarly reputation. But when we aspire >to have a greater impact on the "real" (as opposed to "academic") >world-- and many philosophers do aspire to this today--we need to adopt >the attitudes and habits of these more applied disciplines. We need to >hold ourselves responsible for what we say, recognizing that our words, >if believed, can have profound effects for good or ill. >When I was a young untenured professor of philosophy, I once received a >visit from a colleague from the Comparative Literature Department, an >eminent and fashionable literary theorist, who wanted some help from >me. I was flattered to be asked, and did my best to oblige, but the >drift of his questions about various philosophical topics was strangely >perplexing to me. For quite a while we were getting nowhere, until >finally he managed to make clear to me what he had come for. He wanted >"an epistemology," he said. An epistemology. Every self-respecting >literary theorist had to sport an epistemology that season, it seems, >and without one he felt naked, so he had come to me for an epistemology >to wear--it was the very next fashion, he was sure, and he wanted the >dernier cri in epistemologies. It didn't matter to him that it be >sound, or defensible, or (as one might as well say) true; it just had >to be new and different and stylish. Accessorize, my good fellow, or be >overlooked at the party. >At that moment I perceived a gulf between us that I had only dimly seen >before. It struck me at first as simply the gulf between being serious >and being frivolous. But that initial surge of self-righteousness on my >part was, in fact, a naive reaction. My sense of outrage, my sense that >my time had been wasted by this man's bizarre project, was in its own >way as unsophisticated as the reaction of the first-time theater-goer >who leaps on the stage to protect the heroine from the villain. "Don't >you understand?" we ask incredulously. "It's make believe. It's art. It >isn't supposed to be taken literally!" Put in that context, perhaps >this man's quest was not so disreputable after all. I would not have >been offended, would I, if a colleague in the Drama Department had come >by and asked if he could borrow a few yards of my books to put on the >shelves of the set for his production of Tom Stoppard's play, Jumpers. >What if anything would be wrong in outfitting this fellow with a snazzy >set of outrageous epistemological doctrines with which he could >titillate or confound his colleagues? >What would be wrong would be that since this man didn't acknowledge the >gulf, didn't even recognize that it existed, my acquiescence in his >shopping spree would have contributed to the debasement of a precious >commodity, the erosion of a valuable distinction. Many people, >including both onlookers and participants, don't see this gulf, or >actively deny its existence, and therein lies the problem. The sad fact >is that in some intellectual circles, inhabited by some of our more >advanced thinkers in the arts and humanities, this attitude passes as a >sophisticated appreciation of the futility of proof and the relativity >of all knowledge claims. In fact this opinion, far from being >sophisticated, is the height of sheltered naivet�, made possible only >by flatfooted ignorance of the proven methods of scientific >truth-seeking and their power. Like many another naif, these thinkers, >reflecting on the manifest inability of their methods of truth-seeking >to achieve stable and valuable results, innocently generalize from >their own cases and conclude that nobody else knows how to discover the >truth either. >Among those who contribute to this problem, I am sorry to say, is, my >good friend Dick Rorty. Richard Rorty and I have been constructively >disagreeing with each other for over a quarter of a century now. Each >of us has taught the other a great deal, I believe, in the reciprocal >process of chipping away at our residual points of disagreement. I >can't name a living philosopher from whom I have learned more. Rorty >has opened up the horizons of contemporary philosophy, shrewdly showing >us philosophers many things about how our own projects have grown out >of the philosophical projects of the distant and recent past, while >boldly describing and prescribing future paths for us to take. But >there is one point over which he and I do not agree at all--not >yet--and that concerns his attempt over the years to show that >philosophers' debates about Truth and Reality really do erase the gulf, >really do license a slide into some form of relativism. In the end, >Rorty tells us, it is all just "conversations," and there are only >political or historical or aesthetic grounds for taking one role or >another in an ongoing conversation. >Rorty has often tried to enlist me in his campaign, declaring that he >could find in my own work one explosive insight or another that would >help him with his project of destroying the illusory edifice of >objectivity. One of his favorite passages is the one with which I ended >my book Consciousness Explained (1991): >It's just a war of metaphors, you say--but metaphors are not "just" >metaphors; metaphors are the tools of thought. No one can think about >consciousness without them, so it is important to equip yourself with >the best set of tools available. Look what we have built with our >tools. Could you have imagined it without them? [p.455] >"I wish," Rorty says, "he had taken one step further, and had added >that such tools are all that inquiry can ever provide, because inquiry >is never 'pure' in the sense of [Bernard] Williams' 'project of pure >inquiry.' It is always a matter of getting us something we want." >("Holism, Intrinsicality, Transcendence," in Dahlbom, ed., Dennett and >his Critics. 1993.) But I would never take that step, for although >metaphors are indeed irreplaceable tools of thought, they are not the >only such tools. Microscopes and mathematics and MRI scanners are among >the others. Yes, any inquiry is a matter of getting us something we >want: the truth about something that matters to us, if all goes as it >should. >When philosophers argue about truth, they are arguing about how not to >inflate the truth about truth into the Truth about Truth, some >absolutistic doctrine that makes indefensible demands on our systems of >thought. It is in this regard similar to debates about, say, the >reality of time, or the reality of the past. There are some deep, >sophisticated, worthy philosophical investigations into whether, >properly speaking, the past is real. Opinion is divided, but you >entirely misunderstand the point of these disagreements if you suppose >that they undercut claims such as the following: >Life first emerged on this planet more than three thousand million >years ago. >The Holocaust happened during World War II. >Jack Ruby shot and killed Lee Harvey Oswald at 11:21 am, Dallas time, >November 24, 1963. >These are truths about events that really happened. Their denials are >falsehoods. No sane philosopher has ever thought otherwise, though in >the heat of battle, they have sometimes made claims that could be so >interpreted. >Richard Rorty deserves his large and enthralled readership in the arts >and humanities, and in the "humanistic" social sciences, but when his >readers enthusiastically interpret him as encouraging their >postmodernist skepticism about truth, they trundle down paths he >himself has refrained from traveling. When I press him on these points, >he concedes that there is indeed a useful concept of truth that >survives intact after all the corrosive philosophical objections have >been duly entered. This serviceable, modest concept of truth, Rorty >acknowledges, has its uses: when we want to compare two maps of the >countryside for reliability, for instance, or when the issue is whether >the accused did or did not commit the crime as charged. >Even Richard Rorty, then, acknowledges the gap, and the importance of >the gap, between appearance and reality, between those theatrical >exercises that may entertain us without pretence of truth-telling, and >those that aim for, and often hit, the truth. He calls it a >"vegetarian" concept of truth. Very well, then, let's all be >vegetarians about the truth. Scientists never wanted to go the whole >hog anyway. >So now, let's ask about the sources or foundations of this mild, >uncontroversial, vegetarian concept of truth. >Right now, as I speak, billions of organisms on this planet are engaged >in a game of hide and seek. It is not just a game for them. It is a >matter of life and death. Getting it right, not making mistakes, has >been of paramount importance to every living thing on this planet for >more than three billion years, and so these organisms have evolved >thousands of different ways of finding out about the world they live >in, discriminating friends from foes, meals from mates, and ignoring >the rest for the most part. It matters to them that they not be >misinformed about these matters--indeed nothing matters more--but they >don't, as a rule, appreciate this. They are the beneficiaries of >equipment exquisitely designed to get what matters right but when their >equipment malfunctions and gets matters wrong, they have no resources, >as a rule, for noticing this, let alone deploring it. They soldier on, >unwittingly. The difference between how things seem and how things >really are is just as fatal a gap for them as it can be for us, but >they are largely oblivious to it. The recognition of the difference >between appearance and reality is a human discovery. A few other >species--some primates, some cetaceans, maybe even some birds--shows >signs of appreciating the phenomenon of "false belief"--getting it >wrong. They exhibit sensitivity to the errors of others, and perhaps >even some sensitivity to their own errors as errors, but they lack the >capacity for the reflection required to dwell on this possibility, and >so they cannot use this sensitivity in the deliberate design of repairs >or improvements of their own seeking gear or hiding gear. That sort of >bridging of the gap between appearance and reality is a wrinkle that we >human beings alone have mastered. >We are the species that discovered doubt. Is there enough food laid by >for winter? Have I miscalculated? Is my mate cheating on me? Should we >have moved south? Is it safe to enter this cave? Other creatures are >often visibly agitated by their own uncertainties about just such >questions, but because they cannot actually ask themselves these >questions, they cannot articulate their predicaments for themselves or >take steps to improve their grip on the truth. They are stuck in a >world of appearances, making the best they can of how things seem and >seldom if ever worrying about whether how things seem is how they truly >are. >We alone can be wracked with doubt, and we alone have been provoked by >that epistemic itch to seek a remedy: better truth-seeking methods. >Wanting to keep better track of our food supplies, our territories, our >families, our enemies, we discovered the benefits of talking it over >with others, asking questions, passing on lore. We invented culture. >Then we invented measuring, and arithmetic, and maps, and writing. >These communicative and recording innovations come with a built-in >ideal: truth. The point of asking questions is to find true answers; >the point of measuring is to measure accurately; the point of making >maps is to find your way to your destination. There may be an Island of >the Colour-blind (allowing Oliver Sacks his usual large dose of poetic >license), but no Island of the People Who Do Not Recognize Their Own >Children. The Land of the Liars could exist only in philosophers' >puzzles; there are no traditions of False Calendar Systems for >mis-recording the passage of time. In short, the goal of truth goes >without saying, in every human culture. >We human beings use our communicative skills not just for >truth-telling, but also for promise-making, threatening, bargaining, >story-telling, entertaining, mystifying, inducing hypnotic trances, and >just plain kidding around, but prince of these activities is >truth-telling, and for this activity we have invented ever better >tools. Alongside our tools for agriculture, building, warfare, and >transportation, we have created a technology of truth: science. Try to >draw a straight line, or a circle, "freehand." Unless you have >considerable artistic talent, the result will not be impressive. With a >straight edge and a compass, on the other hand, you can practically >eliminate the sources of human variability and get a nice clean, >objective result, the same every time. >Is the line really straight? How straight is it? In response to these >questions, we develop ever finer tests, and then tests of the accuracy >of those tests, and so forth, bootstrapping our way to ever greater >accuracy and objectivity. Scientists are just as vulnerable to wishful >thinking, just as likely to be tempted by base motives, just as venal >and gullible and forgetful as the rest of humankind. Scientists don't >consider themselves to be saints; they don't even pretend to be priests >(who according to tradition are supposed to do a better job than the >rest of us at fighting off human temptation and frailty). Scientists >take themselves to be just as weak and fallible as anybody else, but >recognizing those very sources of error in themselves and in the groups >to which they belong, they have devised elaborate systems to tie their >own hands, forcibly preventing their frailties and prejudices from >infecting their results. >It is not just the implements, the physical tools of the trade, that >are designed to be resistant to human error. The organization of >methods is also under severe selection pressure for improved >reliability and objectivity. The classic example is the double blind >experiment, in which, for instance, neither the human subjects nor the >experimenters themselves are permitted to know which subjects get the >test drug and which the placebo, so that nobody's subliminal hankerings >and hunches can influence the perception of the results. The >statistical design of both individual experiments and suites of >experiments, is then embedded in the larger practice of routine >attempts at replication by independent investigators, which is further >embedded in a tradition--flawed, but recognized--of publication of both >positive and negative results. >What inspires faith in arithmetic is the fact that hundreds of >scribblers, working independently on the same problem, will all arrive >at the same answer (except for those negligible few whose errors can be >found and identified to the mutual satisfaction of all). This >unrivalled objectivity is also found in geometry and the other branches >of mathematics, which since antiquity have been the very model of >certain knowledge set against the world of flux and controversy. In >Plato's early dialogue, the Meno, Socrates and the slave boy work out >together a special case of the Pythagorean theorem. Plato's example >expresses the frank recognition of a standard of truth to be aspired to >by all truth-seekers, a standard that has not only never been seriously >challenged, but that has been tacitly accepted--indeed heavily relied >upon, even in matters of life and death--by the most vigorous opponents >of science. (Or do you know a church that keeps track of its flock, and >their donations, without benefit of arithmetic?) >Yes, but science almost never looks as uncontroversial, as >cut-and-dried, as arithmetic. Indeed rival scientific factions often >engage in propaganda battles as ferocious as anything to be found in >politics, or even in religious conflict. The fury with which the >defenders of scientific orthodoxy often defend their doctrines against >the heretics is probably unmatched in other arenas of human rhetorical >combat. These competitions for allegiance--and, of course, funding--are >designed to capture attention, and being well-designed, they typically >succeed. This has the side effect that the warfare on the cutting edge >of any science draws attention away from the huge uncontested >background, the dull metal heft of the axe that gives the cutting edge >its power. What goes without saying, during these heated disagreements, >is an organized, encyclopedic collection of agreed-upon, humdrum >scientific fact. >Robert Proctor usefully draws our attention to a distinction between >neutrality and objectivity.(2) Geologists, he notes, know a lot more >about oil-bearing shales than about other rocks--for the obvious >economic and political reasons--but they do know objectively about oil >bearing shales. And much of what they learn about oil-bearing shales >can be generalized to other, less favored rocks. We want science to be >objective; we should not want science to be neutral. Biologists know a >lot more about the fruit-fly, Drosophila, than they do about other >insects--not because you can get rich off fruit flies, but because you >can get knowledge out of fruit flies easier than you can get it out of >most other species. Biologists also know a lot more about mosquitoes >than about other insects, and here it is because mosquitoes are more >harmful to people than other species that might be much easier to >study. Many are the reasons for concentrating attention in science, and >they all conspire to making the paths of investigation far from >neutral; they do not, in general, make those paths any less objective. >Sometimes, to be sure, one bias or another leads to a violation of the >canons of scientific method. Studying the pattern of a disease in men, >for instance, while neglecting to gather the data on the same disease >in women, is not just not neutral; it is bad science, as indefensible >in scientific terms as it is in political terms. >It is true that past scientific orthodoxies have themselves inspired >policies that hindsight reveals to be seriously flawed. One can >sympathize, for instance, with Ashis Nandy, editor of the passionately >anti-scientific anthology, Science, Hegemony and Violence: A Requiem >for Modernity, Delhi: Oxford Univ. Press, 1988. Having lived through >Atoms for Peace, and the Green Revolution, to name two of the most >ballyhooed scientific juggernauts that have seriously disrupted third >world societies, he sees how "the adaptation in India of decades-old >western technologies are advertised and purchased as great leaps >forward in science, even when such adaptations turn entire disciplines >or areas of knowledge into mere intellectual machines for the >adaptation, replication and testing of shop-worn western models which >have often been given up in the west itself as too dangerous or as >ecologically non-viable." (p8) But we should recognize this as a >political misuse of science, not as a fundamental flaw in science >itself. >The methods of science aren't foolproof, but they are indefinitely >perfectible. Just as important: there is a tradition of criticism that >enforces improvement whenever and wherever flaws are discovered. The >methods of science, like everything else under the sun, are themselves >objects of scientific scrutiny, as method becomes methodology, the >analysis of methods. Methodology in turn falls under the gaze of >epistemology, the investigation of investigation itself--nothing is off >limits to scientific questioning. The irony is that these fruits of >scientific reflection, showing us the ineliminable smudges of >imperfection, are sometimes used by those who are suspicious of science >as their grounds for denying it a privileged status in the >truth-seeking department--as if the institutions and practices they see >competing with it were no worse off in these regards. But where are the >examples of religious orthodoxy being simply abandoned in the face of >irresistible evidence? Again and again in science, yesterday's heresies >have become today's new orthodoxies. No religion exhibits that pattern >in its history. >1. Portions of this paper are derived from "Faith in the Truth," my >Amnesty Lecture, Oxford, February 17, 1997 >2. Value-Free Science?, Harvard Univ. Press, 1991
