Kevin,

>  > As a general remark on some of the discussions on probability theory
>>  that recur on the UAI list, I think that it's important to emphasize
>>  that probability theory is best viewed as a special case of measure
>>  theory,
>
>Let me present another view, again based on Jaynes's ideas.  The title of
>his book is "Probability Theory: The Logic of Science."  Jaynes viewed
>probability theory primarily as a logic of plausible inference.

So did Laplace and many other Enlightenment thinkers.

BTW, I *highly* recommend Jaynes' book.  It is fantastic.

>So let's
>take a look at this from the perspective of mathematical logic.  (This is
>my own elaboration of the Jaynesian view.)  The product and sum rules of
>probability theory give us the proof theory of our logic.
>Set-theoretic probability theory gives us the model theory for our logic.
>That is, it allows us to construct sets of axioms (e.g., a set of
>conditional probabilities defining a joint probability distribution over
>the variables of interest) that are consistent, so that we may avoid
>reasoning from inconsistent premises.

Yes.

>This distinction, I believe, cleans up the conceptual landscape quite a
>bit.  For example, there was some discussion on this list recently about
>the definition of a random variable, and the fact that a random variable's
>definition changes if we enlarge the sample space.  The Jaynesian
>viewpoint is that there are no "random" variables -- there are only
>variables whose values may not be known with certainty, and there is no
>logical distinction between these and any other variable.

At the object level perhaps you're right (although you'll find some 
people arguing vehemently that, for example, radioactive decay is 
"really" random).  But things get *really* squishy when we try 
quantifying over models.  As long as we allow quantification only 
over what some people call "objective" (I prefer "intersubjectively 
verifiable") properties of the world, then all our probability models 
will satisfy what Ron Howard calls the "clarity test." That is, a 
clairvoyant who knows the outcome of all intersubjectively verifiable 
past, present and future events could assign a definite value to each 
random variable in our model.  When all our random variables satisfy 
the clarity test, then the paragraph above is a fair description of a 
philosophically satisfying (to many people) ontology for probability.

But just try applying the clarity test to questions such as:

  What did John really mean when he threatened to quit?
  Do you think Emily is in love with Joe?
  Do you agree that Fred is in denial over his anger toward Julio?

What is the ontological status of "that which John really meant," or 
"Emily's true feelings toward Joe," or "Fred's true disposition 
toward Julio?" (Or even worse, "what another person really thinks 
about Emily's true feelings toward Joe"!!!) Do the referents of these 
sentences count as legitimate random variables? Do you regard them as 
variables just like other variables (such as the sum of 2 and 2)? 
It's pretty clear their values cannot be known with certainty.  It's 
not at all clear whether they have "real values" at all.  Perhaps you 
are sure they are variables just like any other variable, but there 
are lots of people who will vehemently disagree with you.  There are 
some who argue they should not be allowed to be included in 
probability models because they aren't "real" variables at all. 
Students in my classes tell me frequently that professor So-and-So 
has told them that probability CANNOT BE APPLIED to anything except 
"really random" phenomena. There are some who argue we must use some 
other formalism such as fuzzy logic for variables that don't satisfy 
the clarity test. Some go so far as to say engineers are WRONG to try 
to "squeeze the life out of" such inherently subjective phenomena by 
stuffing them into mathematical and logical representations.  But 
some people happily include such hypotheses in Bayesian networks and 
give them conditional probabilities just like other random variables. 
A person can easily get sucked into arguments that last for weeks or 
months with no resolution in sight.  This has happened to me plenty 
of times.  Eventually I give up and filter the emails from the most 
passionate and prolific into boxes I peruse when I have nothing 
better to do (which is seldom).  I have concluded that one's ontology 
for probability is a matter of religion, where by religion I mean 
something that cannot be resolved one way or the other by either 
logical argumentation or by experiment, but about which there are 
diametrically opposed passionately held points of view, and about 
which people are sure those with differing views are either stupid or 
malevolent, and decidedly WRONG.  If you like spending energy 
shouting angrily at others over things you believe passionately but 
cannot prove either by logic or by argument, by all means go ahead. 
Eventually I'll put a filter on your emails, though.  :-)

The above does not stop me from defining random variables in a 
Bayesian network that refer to what an agent means or what an agent's 
feelings are toward another agent, or some other non-clarity-test 
phenomenon. It also doesn't stop people from having conversations 
about such phenomena, which not only are meaningful to the 
participants, but actually have observable effects in the world. For 
example, if Huang tells Joe he thinks Emily is in love with him, that 
might give Joe the courage to send her an email.  This is independent 
of whether Emily's "true feelings" really are or really are not just 
like any other variable.  Some day, we might have robots that Joe can 
ask to give him advice on his love life.  They might have Bayesian 
networks with random variables referring to women's feelings about 
him.  I bet at that time philosophers will *still* be arguing over 
whether Emily "really has" true feelings toward Joe.  Joe won't care 
about that.  He will care about whether the robot's inferences about 
Emily's feelings are accurate enough to keep him from making a fool 
out of himself.  Philosophers can argue till kingdom come, and 
knowledge engineers are going to build Bayesian networks with random 
variables whose values don't satisfy the clarity test, and by gosh, 
those Bayesian networks will turn out to be quite USEFUL!!!  Other 
knowledge engineers are going to say it's silly to accept the Law of 
the Excluded Middle when we are talking about whether Emily is in 
love with Joe, and they are going to build fuzzy graphical models, 
and by gosh, THOSE are going to be useful too!!!  In fact, if you put 
really *good* knowledge engineers from the opposing camps into a 
bake-off, I'll lay odds they'll both come up with pretty 
high-performing systems.  The philosophers will still be arguing over 
the true ontological status of what they are doing and whether it's 
philosophically coherent, and in the meantime we'll get better and 
better natural language understanding and commonsense reasoning 
systems, and eventually the philosophers will find themselves being 
dragged into using the systems themselves, and perhaps the writings 
of the more philosophically inclined engineers who participate in 
building them, as a reality check on their theories.

For myself, I regard the value of the "Emily's true feelings" random 
variable as (approximately, where the approximation is good enough 
for my modeling purposes) a sufficient statistic for a highly complex 
brain state that it's simply not worth modeling in detail.  By "brain 
state" I mean a much higher-dimensional (approximately) sufficient 
statistic that (approximately) d-separates Emily's cognitive-mental 
apparatus from the rest of the world.  That is as close to a formal 
definition as I think it is useful to make for a discussion such as 
this.  (Formal definitions are *very* useful, though, when designing 
a software spec.)

>Only at the
>model theory level, when we concern ourselves with proving consistency,
>do we have to define the notion of a random variable, sample space, etc.
>Thus, measure theory helps us build consistent probabilistic models
>involving continuous variables, but once these are defined, we may ignore
>its subtleties and crank through the simple logical rules of probability
>theory to carry out our inferences (assuming that we follow Jaynes's
>policy with regard to infinite sets.)

OK, but again, one may not need measure theory.  What I like about 
the prequential approach is its explicit agent-based ontology.  There 
are agents, and the agents have beliefs and preferences and make 
choices about what bets to engage in regarding intersubjectively 
verifiable phenomena.  By observing the agent's bets, one can obtain 
evidence about their beliefs and preferences.  When the rules of the 
market permit agents to exploit "arbitrage opportunities" (i.e., 
opportunities to make a profit on agents willing to accept sure-loss 
gambles), one expects agents willing to make sure-loss bets to be 
squeezed out of the market, either by getting smarter about what bets 
they will make or by going bankrupt.  This provides evolutionary 
pressure toward coherence (at least in the bets one will accept, if 
not in one's internal thoughts).  (See the work of Nau and McCardle 
downloadable from the Duke Fuqua School web site for more on a 
no-arbitrage ontology for probability.)  As I said the other day, one 
can develop a game theoretic ontology for probability that doesn't 
use measure theory directly, but that evaluates probabilistic 
statements by their internal consistency AND their fit to observable 
events.  Not all the details of this approach have been worked out as 
fully as measure theory has been worked out, but many standard 
measure-theoretic results have been re-proven, and the prospects look 
very promising to me.  I don't want to get into any debates over 
whether Dawid/Shafer/Vovk (alphabetical order) are "really right" and 
the measure theorists "wrong."  I don't think that's going to go 
anywhere.  But I've been watching this line of work for a number of 
years, and I'm going to keep watching.

At the risk of being one of those people whose emails get shunted off 
to the "never bother looking at this junk" box, those were some 
things I wanted to say about the "problem of interpreting 
probabilities."  There!  I've said them!

(I have a book about this in my mind, but whether it'll ever get 
written is rather iffy, given all the other things I need to spend my 
time on. But I *will* take an hour I "shouldn't" to write an email 
like this.  It's a lot less time-consuming than a book.  And maybe 
some people will find it useful. But back to work.)

Cheers,

Kathy

Reply via email to