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Faking It (The Turing Test)

Posted in Philosophy on April 26th, 2010

A. M. Turing wrote a groundbreaking article on the question, “Can machines think?” “The Turing Test” is a cornerstone in the field of artificial intelligence (AI). This paper attempts to explain the Test, address some objections to it, and present my own views on it.

The Turing Test is based on an old parlor game called “The Imitation Game”: a man and a woman are placed in two separate rooms and the audience is asked to discern which is which. We remove any superficial cues such as sight (they are hidden behind doors) or sound (typewritten responses). Furthermore, we remove any easy differentiation by allowing lying (asking “Do you menstruate?” would not be conclusive). In short, if the man fools us into thinking he is the woman (or vice versa), he has won the game. From the outset, Turing says that instead of getting into philosophical definitions of what it is to think, we should simply skip to practical demonstration. Since we DO allow that humans think, if a computer were to play the Game and convince us that it is human (or doing what a human does), then we grant that it too thinks. If we object, he resorts to the theoretical and asks, “On what basis do you grant that a human thinks, anyway?” To Turing, it seems we assume someone is “thinking” when he talks (communicates). Therefore if we attribute thinking to humans based on this, we ought to attribute it to computers if they can master this to a sufficient level.

One objection to the Turing Test is the “Argument from Consciousness”. It basically states that a computer cannot be self-aware (a longer quotation by Professor Jefferson, spanning human experience, is cited in the text: Turing, 10). Turing’s response to this is again, how do we know anyone is conscious? More talking! We tend to utilize a technique called “viva voce”, where we ask a person numerous questions to test whether they are replying by rote or if they truly understand what it is that they are talking about. Turing then goes on to say that he does not think that the Professor, in insisting there is an internal state which is lacking in computers, wishes to take the “solipsist” point of view (one can only know something by direct experience), which might well invalidate this test, but is rather impractical (we routinely attribute intelligence to others). My personal inclination is that a machine could not be conscious. Without a lengthy discussion of what consciousness is, I refer the reader to John Searle’s reply to Turing, in which he gives an example of one person processing Chinese as a native speaker and another one processing it through an English-language translation manual (ie symbol manipulation). The Turing camp tends to reduce both processes into the SAME process (programming), but I believe they are different (ie that there is a difference between someone understanding Chinese itself and someone who has “learned” to spit out the correct symbols). Aside from the fact that any differences of process shown will inevitably be reduced by the Turning camp into more of the same (programming), I feel Searle has basically shown a counter-example to the Test (a plausible instance in which two entities are passing the Turing test or obtaining the same result, but not necessarily doing the same thing, which after all is the what the Test is trying to do – to show by output alone that two things are doing the same internal things ie “thinking”).

Another objection addresses how rote a machine or “analytical engine” is compared to a human. Lady Lovelace’s Objection is: a machine is programmed and so can only do what it is “told”. It never “thinks” (or originates) anything on its own. Turing’s response is actually quite succinct in this regard, when he mentions that “Machines take me by surprise with great frequency” (Turing, 14) and states that much of these “origination/creativity” issues can be addressed under the heading of “learning machines” (see Turing, 16-21). Following the pattern of replies to these objections, the counter-question “Do humans ever do anything new?” arises. My personal inclination is to wonder what an acceptable definition of “new” would be to those who assume that humans only act based on genetics, environment, and other quantifiable factors. I suspect it is non-existent. It seems that an assumption is necessary regardless of which side you take: Lady Lovelace’s camp would say there is an X factor involved in human behavior (not quantifiable) which is markedly different than the X factor involved in machines (I suspect it may amount to a statistical difference). The Turing camp would say that any noted “X factors” are simply reduced to quantifiable explanations (which they never have to produce, only assume can be produced given sufficient science and technology).

My own view of the Turing test, in this short paper, is that it is a neat parlor trick. Although a brilliant catalyst for delving into deeper philosophical issues (as we have seen inevitably emerge in the replies to the objections to it), as well as a useful tool for both AI (setting a target for technological or programming proficiency) as well as neuroscience (utilizing the computer model to understand the brain), it doesn’t actually prove that computers think, only that we can be fooled into thinking they do (which admittedly is Turing’s stated goal of sufficiency). The question “Can computers think?” raises so many issues that it is hard to sort through them all (which is why Turing simply sidesteps the intricacies and proposes a simulation, offering simple counter-questions if any objections arise). A thorough examination would involve analyses of Turing’s methodology, a serious consideration of solipsism, differences between nature and artifice, etc . However, I will focus on one personal objection to the Test itself: the fact that imitation is not reality.

If we look at the Imitation Game again, we can’t forget that what we are talking about is an imitation and not the real thing. Look again at the original game: how CAN we tell the difference between a man and a woman if we remove all exterior as well as perceived interior discrepancies? Superficialities are ruled out, as are obvious questions due to the fact that lying is allowed (ie the man can pretend to be a woman and vice versa). If we cannot conclusively solve the original game, how useful is the applied game? The applied game should serve the same utility (and not more): it would be a cool display of how far AI has come in mimicking a human mind, but would not prove that humans and computers are the same, or even that they are doing the same thing.

At the end of the Game, if played proficiently, the audience is stumped and the man and woman come out of the closets and we say “Ah, so that was the man!” based on knowing (not guessing) who is who. Similarly, I completely concede that it is theoretically possible that there could be a man I speak to who looks like a human, talks like a human, and fools me into thinking he is a human. But what of it? The only time I would care is if I know the difference (at the end of the “game” when the “answer” is given), when someone says to me, “You know that man you were married to for ten years? He was really a robot!” at which point I would say “Shut up! You mean Bob? But I couldn’t tell the difference!” Aside from that, if lying is allowed, anything goes if we assume a level of knowledge or proficiency of skill (programming) in the man (for example using a boy who wouldn’t know typical female answers would not work).

Now, it might be claimed, “No, the Turing test is merely to show a level of competency of a machine in the realm of a specific function: thinking. So it is unfair if it passes and we do not ascribe “thinking” to it!” I do agree with that if in fact we can keep our definitions clear. What I do NOT agree with (and this is a common implication of many in Turing’s camp) is that it necessarily thinks in the same way as a human, that it is a human, or worse, that since it could reproduce a certain level of human function, the human is then reduced to the same functioning (ie everything we do is automatically explained by the computer paradigm).

A better test at achieving the explicit objective might be the simple blind “taste test”. For example, if someone claims that a woman could never perform a certain function, have both a man and woman perform the function, and show the blindfolded contestant that indeed the woman did do it (thereby removing the bias and establishing that a woman could do such). Similarly, have a human and a robot both perform a certain function and ask the blindfolded audience which is which and when it is shown that the computer was the one who performed function x that it is possessed of such skill. What is the difference between this and the Turing Test? It does not involve lying.

Lying is essentially “False”, or the opposite of “True”. An analogy for the Turing test would be if I claimed that you cannot tell the difference between myself (of average IQ) and a patient with low IQ because I have studied the patient’s symptoms and can answer below my capacities (ie lie, pretend, mimic). (This is essentially what a computer would have to do in some cases where it could exceed human performance in an obvious way.) Does it mean we are then the same, or that we use the same methods at arriving at our answers? No, only that there may be a scenario where an observer could not tell the difference. In practical situations, we do not want a computer to “act slow” or emotional, or demand that from humans that they perform lightning-speed mathematical calculations. The fact is, there IS a difference, even though at some points they may function similarly or even produce identical outputs.

To date, the Turing Test has NOT been passed by any machine. If in the future, there is a computer which could pass it, it would certainly gain my approval that it could “think” at a level of complexity that rivals the human mind’s (the cool parlor trick), but it would not imply to me that the two were the same.

Reference

Turing, A.M. (1950). Computing Machinery and Intelligence. Mind, 59, 433-460 (note the numbering in this paper is taken from an online pdf found here: https://learn.uh.edu/webct/urw/lc5122011.tp0/cobaltMainFrame.dowebct).

Pleased to Meet You…

Posted in Philosophy on April 9th, 2010

At a time when ethical theory was formulated largely in terms of the perceived “laws” of human behavior or calculations of the “net amount of good”, Emmanuel Kant took a step back and examined the “Metaphysic of Morals”. He approached moral values on their own terms, untied to material considerations or consequences. The fundamental tenets of his theory are as follows:

1. The Good Will of the rational being is the only absolute “good”.

2. The Good Will acts only from a sense of Duty and purely out of respect for the Moral Law.

3. The only absolute moral law is the Categorical Imperative, a moral law which can rationally be applied universally.

4. All rational beings are to be treated as Ends, and not as Means.

Reaction:

OK, I LOVE Kant! What he says is gutsy and sharp. I have always found it weird that ethics are viewed in terms of the “good life” and by “good” people mean good materially! Most of us have a natural disdain for the consequentialist viewpoint (the ends justifying the means) while having an intrinsic respect for people who seem to have integrity (who don’t sell out). Aside from gushing like a schoolgirl, here are some more “rational” reasons why I mostly jive with the above points:

1. Ethics is a realm where we are assigning positive and negative values to superficially arbitrary things. It is only when there is a willful choice that issues of virtue can be considered, and thus any definition of “good” (or “evil”). Furthermore, the only thing within a rational being’s control IS his will. He cannot absolutely control his own actions (this can be as mild as someone who intended to do something which “didn’t come out right” or as severe as the case of a person who wants to move his hand but is paralyzed) let alone the actions of others or his physical environment. This is not to say he has no control over what he does; rather that it is not a guaranteed control. From this it follows that the only thing “good” is his intention or his will, and not the actions or the consequences thereof.

2. Someone may do an act of good, but is actually only following his own inclination or doing what is advantageous in a material sense. In these cases, there is no virtue to be ascribed. It is only when someone acts unfailingly out of a sense of Duty and sincerely out of respect for the Moral Law that any sense of “good” can be attached to his will. In most cases, it is only through “tests” that a person’s intentions become clear (sometimes to himself), much as a scientific experiment can isolate which effects are due to which causes by eliminating incidentals; so similarly when external validation or reward are removed, indeed when negative consequences, suffering, or sacrifice are involved, can it be clarified if someone truly believes in the maxim being upheld, when it is done for its own sake (art for the sake of art, knowledge for the sake of knowledge, morality for the sake of morality!).

3. OK, I do have some reservations about this, but that probably isn’t surprising. General ethical principles tend to be agreeable while specific principles tend to cause the kinks (or the other way around depending upon your approach). Perhaps the confusion comes from the fact that practically speaking, we tend to mix top-down approaches with bottom-up approaches when formulating ethics. While Kant’s principle seems general and indeed rational, I have a hard time thinking of one example of a moral law that could satisfactorily be applied in anything but the most abstract terms [update: my professor mentioned this could be covered by the hypothetical imperative, which I don’t know too much about, but I do look forward to reading more of Kant in the future]. Perhaps I need to see more examples of Kant’s work and what exactly he has in mind here, or I’m just too muddled myself! However, I will cautiously say this – I do agree that hypocrisy is not only something universally abhorrent, but is a cause for much corruption (the antithesis of virtue). Therefore, I will modify his attempt at universality this way: IF there is an exception to any universal moral law, it cannot be motivated by self-advantage or desire but must be an “impersonal” exception applicable to others in the same situation. One way to try to attain such objectivity would be to imagine the exception applied to someone you dislike or who would apply it AGAINST you. Would it still be an exception and therefore morally allowable? If you find yourself annoyed or outraged by a particular behavior or action from another, most likely it is NOT morally justified for you to make an exception for yourself to the very judgment you are applying to them. So I would at least agree with Kant that personal exceptions often lead to corruption of the Moral Law, and therefore I think they should be severely scrutinized if not eliminated.

Again, I am not sure about this one as a universal and consistent law, but I do think it follows that since the sole basis of “goodness” stems from individual self-will, and since we have already established that it is the only thing under one’s own control, it follows that other rational beings are only “good” if their will chooses good. I don’t morally or practically believe each person should be left to their own devices with no common relation or law among them, but it IS clear that if an individual is FORCED to do “good” that it is not truly good, only practically so (which may have societal benefits, but that is outside the scope of this paper). The irony is that while GOOD WILL is the only absolute good, another person cannot ever actually verify the internal will of another or ascertain another’s sincerity – so only the COMPLIANCE with “good” can be ascertained, and not “goodness” in and of itself. In practical terms, this means we cannot judge others’ moral states (only their outer actions). In addition, , I do not believe in one rational being deliberately manipulating another to achieve some perceived individual (not social) “goodness” on the part of the manipulated, let alone for the purpose of exploitation. So I agree with Kant that in the scope of individual autonomy (of the will, at any rate, not considering relational/social concerns), a person should be respected as an equal rational being and not be forced or manipulated to be “good” and should have the freedom to make his own choices.

Descartes: Mind/Body Dualism

Posted in Philosophy on March 5th, 2010

Descartes writes that, “…there is a great difference between the mind and the body, inasmuch as the body is by its very nature always divisible, while the mind is utterly indivisible.” (Descartes, 59) From this he concludes that the mind and the body can exist independently. In this paper, I will present his argument, analyze the argument, and attempt to draw a conclusion based upon personal reasoning.

Descartes’ “Divisibility Argument” for mind/body Dualism is this:

  1. The body is divisible.
  2. The mind is indivisible.
  3. Therefore, the body and the mind are not identical.

In support of Premise 1, he says, “…there is no corporeal…thing that I can think of which in my thought I cannot easily divide into parts…” (Descartes, 59). In other words, since the body is a physical entity, we can divide it into parts. In support of Premise 2, he says, “As for the faculties of willing, of understanding,…[etc.], these cannot be termed parts of the mind, since it is one and the same mind that wills [sic] and understands…” (Descartes, 59). In other words, although we might analyze the mind regarding specific functions, it is ultimately the mind as a whole which formulates thought as a single entity. Thus it is indivisible.

Now let us analyze the argument - does it hold water? It certainly seems to. To put the argument into a more logical format:

1. A is X. (entity A has quality X)

2. B is not X. (entity B does not have quality X)

3. Therefore A ? B. (entity A and entity B are not exactly the same)

Remember, we are not talking about specific minds or bodies, nor variations between entities of the same category – we are saying if two model entities differ in their properties, they are two different types of things. The challenge is not in the validity of the argument (it is valid), but the premises.

Let us begin with Premise 1 regarding the body. Is it true that you can always divide a body? The answer would appear to be yes. The reason is that the body, as Descartes noted, is a physical entity. Experience has shown us that people often sustain damage to their bodies. What about loss which renders the body incapacitated or dead? This (ie the condition of the body) would be irrelevant to the fact that it can be divided physically. What if we were to reach the limits of physical division (eg you divide a body until you are physically unable to divide it any longer)? In this case, we find that according to all known laws of nature, as long as we were able to develop the technology for it, it would be possible to divide it ever more minutely (take the example of a line, which according to geometry is infinitely divisible). Therefore it appears that all physical entities (which have “extension”, according to Descartes) are infinitely divisible, and thus so is the body, and it seems Premise 1 is True.

We turn now to Premise 2: the mind. Is it true that you can never divide a mind? To begin with, it should be pointed out that some people say that Premise 2 might beg the question. In other words, Descartes assumes something which itself is at the very core of the central question of the entire argument – is the mind distinct from the body, and if so, how? Therefore, for Descartes to assume that the body is indivisible is like “cheating” the argument. It did initially appear that way to me as well, but on second thought, I don’t think Descartes begs the question because the central question is NOT whether the mind is divisible or not – rather it is HOW are the mind and body different? And in reply Descartes “shows” how they are different – with his two assumptions. This is how ANY argument is constructed – with certain assumptions which may or may not be true. If I argued that “Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck are different.” and my assumptions were “Mickey Mouse is a mouse.” and “Donald Duck is not a mouse.”, these would be perfectly relevant to my argument. Of course, one could contest if indeed Mickey Mouse was a mouse or that Donald Duck is not a mouse, etc. I feel the argument not only is valid, but that the argument does not beg the question.

Now we are simply faced with the challenge of determining if we think Premise 2 is true or not. This question seems to have more complexity than the former because of ambiguity of definition – more specifically, what distinction shall we make of its essentials from its incidentals. In other words, what of the mind can we remove and still call the resultant entity a “mind”? From a neurological or psychological point of view, we do divide the mind into “parts”, but this, as Descartes himself points out when he mentions “parts” such as willing or understanding, is merely our effort to analyze specific functions or study the mechanics of nature and is not necessarily a “true” division.

To aid us, let us approach this issue from two distinct angles: the physical and the mental. Can the “mind” be divided physically? Descartes himself acknowledges a link between the brain and the mind, but continues to relegate it to a mere corporeal part, having an effect on the mind (Descartes, 61) just as your foot or your nerves, or indeed as the sight of a butterfly, may have an effect on your mind (the common link being things external to “the mind”). In other words, there is no absolute link, and the brain itself may be a cause of sensory or even cognitive error (Descartes, 61). Thus Descartes would say cut as much from the brain as you like, you would render the body incapable of perceptions and functions, but the mind is not what is being altered directly (in its essence).

From a non-material point of view, what if a person “lost” a part of his mind – what do we mean? We seem to make a distinction between essential and non-essential mental function. For example, we treat a person who suffers amnesia differently from one who is psychotic. One has lost the function of past memory but is still considered “sane” while the other is deemed out of touch with reality and mentally “ill”. Descartes himself mentions the example of madmen whose perceptions do not match reality (Descartes, 18) – yet we do not say that these people do not actually have minds, merely that they are dysfunctional. If dysfunction or loss does not render the mind literally “gone”, what actually does?

To take the case of non-material “parts” further, it seems that the mind is in essence not merely a collection of parts, and this is perhaps the point Descartes is trying to strike home. For example, there are stories of people who switch physical identities, keeping their “minds” or personalities, etc. while changing on the outside. In the story “Flowers for Algernon”, the main character undergoes changes in intelligence, which in some ways affect his personality. We do not think of a person who undergoes a lobotomy as a different person. Different in some ways, even in many ways, yes – we might say that someone “doesn’t seem himself” but we still recognize the person’s essence as something which transcends physical, mental, and even personality changes.

It seems then that for Descartes, if the “mind” is missing, then it is simply another way of saying the “essence” is missing. So the “mind” to Descartes is more a specific identity. In other words, you can splice a person from other people, and you would have a specific mass of parts collected into a new “body”, yet if you were to splice “pieces” of a mind, you would render the original “parts” devoid of essence, and furthermore not be able to form a new “essence”. It is like saying you take a part of someone’s existence – and this you cannot do. A person either exists or does not. So it seems that Premise 2 is also True. Therefore, the argument, which is valid, must also be True. However, a criticism might still be the muddling of the definition of “mind” with “existential identity” or at the very least being vague or ill-defined (perhaps he defines it more coherently elsewhere, but for a common-man understanding of this argument).

Despite the brilliance of Descartes’ argument, the question remains (perhaps due to the very criticism mentioned above): are the body and mind separate things? Modern science has shown ever-more evidence that the two are intertwined. Although the brain is vital to the body’s function, it seems that the body can be “brain dead” and yet kept in a vegetative state through medical facilitation. In the natural world, creatures with physical bodies exist without brains (eg plants). Therefore, the brain may be vital to a human being’s functioning, yet it does not seem essential for a physical creature (ie a body) to think (ie to have a mind).

So what of a mind existing without a body? We know that physical maneuvers (eg stimulating a certain part of the brain) incites corresponding mental reactions. There is definitely a physical basis for mental functions. So the actual question should be redefined as something more specific: are the mind and the brain independent? Again, a lot goes back to definitions – if we mean mental functions such as “cognition” etc. it is conceivable (as Descartes mentions) to have thinking beings without physical bodies (many people believe God thinks but is not a corporeal substance – however, it seems one cannot escape from the idea of a locus, even if immaterial). Perhaps Descartes was right in that the idea of mind is itself tied up in existential identity. Whatever mind/body connection there is (or isn’t), there is still an (as yet) undefined “gestalt” quality (the sum being larger than the dissected constituent parts). In conclusion, I do think that the mind and body are independent, yet with the humble consideration that this question, like most philosophical ones, might well defy absolute analysis.

Work Cited

Descartes, Rene, Meditations on First Philosophy, with Selections from the Objections and

Replies, translated by J. Cottingham, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1986.

Euthyphro

Posted in Philosophy on February 24th, 2010

Summary:

Euthyphro is on his way to do a “pious” deed when Socrates asks him, “What is piety?” When Euthyphro replies that it is what the gods consider pious, Socrates points out two main considerations:

1. that the gods may disagree so that something is considered both pious and impious at the same time

2. that piety (or goodness) ought to be an independent quality and not an arbitrary whim of what the gods approve of, otherwise the word “pious” has little or no value – that something is given a title based upon its attributes and not the other way around

Analysis:

1. this point, while excellent for the time and place of the figure of Euthyphro, is not relevant to situations of monotheism or a singular, coherent religious code of ethics

2. this point, while a good criticism of the circular nature of the word “pious”, does not offer an alternative (it merely points out that the definition ought to be independent, but does not offer a useful definition) – the thing is, no matter what the definition of “pious” or “good” is that is offered, it will need further justification; it may seem obviously “absurd” or “arbitrary” to answer the question “What is piety” as “What God approves”, since the next question will be “Is there a reason God approves something?” – however, ANY way you answer the question, you will be forced to explain further – for example, if you were to answer “It is to do unto others what you would have done to you”, then the further question would be “Is there a reason why it is desirable to do unto others what you would have done to you” – in other words, if the definition of x is y, one can always question y, no matter what it is (the first response may instinctively feel like it is assuming a standard, but the second one is also)

Final Point:

I believe there is a great distinction between something which is “good” and something which is “pious”. Although I do believe society/man can come up with (although unlikely) an “independent” definition of what “good” is, the very definition of “piety” is NOT equivalent to “what is good” since “goodness” can be used in both a religious or a non-religious context, while “piety” is solely used in a religious context. Thus, although it may seem “arbitrary” to answer that “piety” is merely “what God approves of”, it is in fact, the only sensible definition for it – and it should not be SOUGHT for it to be explained in terms that are independent of Him.

On Love

Posted in Quotations on December 5th, 2009

“Love is a virtue, and requires virtue.”

Someday Never Comes

Posted in Song Lyrics on December 4th, 2009

First thing I remember was askin’ Papa, Why?,
For there were many things I didn’t know.
And Daddy always smiled, took me by the hand,
Sayin’, Someday you’ll understand.

Well, I’m here to tell you now each and ev’ry mother’s son
You better learn it fast; you better learn it young,
‘Cause, Someday never comes.

Well, time and tears went by and I collected dust,
For there were many things I didn’t know.
When Daddy went away, he said, Try to be a man,
And, Someday you’ll understand.

Well, I’m here to tell you now each and ev’ry mother’s son
You better learn it fast; you better learn it young,
‘Cause, Someday never comes.

And then, one day in April, I wasn’t even there,
For there were many things I didn’t know.
A son was born to me, Mama held his hand,
Sayin’ Someday you’ll understand.

Well, I’m here to tell you now each and ev’ry mother’s son
You better learn it fast; you better learn it young,
‘Cause, Someday never comes.

Think it was September, the year I went away,
For there were many things I didn’t know.
And I still see him standing, try’n’ to be a man;
I said, Someday you’ll understand.

Well, I’m here to tell you now each and ev’ry mother’s son
You better learn it fast; you better learn it young,
‘Cause, Someday never comes.

- Creedence Clearwater Revival Band

Fruits of the Spinoza-Boyle Correspondence

Posted in Philosophy on December 3rd, 2009

Baruch Spinoza and Robert Boyle were giants in their respective fields during the burgeoning examination of the relationship between philosophy and science which characterized the Scientific Revolution. The prevailing physical philosophy of the time was mechanical philosophy, which was to displace the long-held Aristotelian traditions.[1] At that time Henry Oldenberg was Secretary (he was also the first) of the Royal Society, the authoritative academic organization which pursued scientific development, and it was Oldenberg who initiated a correspondence with Spinoza, due to the former’s pursuit of all persons of contemporary academic excellence (W.38). Although Oldenberg corresponded with Spinoza in twenty-eight letters, he served as intermediary between Boyle and Spinoza for five of them (W.34).[2] In 1661 Oldenberg sent Spinoza Boyle’s “Certain Physiological Essays” (which contained his nitre experiment) and elicited Spinoza’s reaction to it (Gabbey 1996, p. 149). The question “Is matter qualitative or quantitative?” was central to this series of letters exchanged between them.

In his introduction to a collection of Boyle’s work, Stewart maintains that “he had a fruitless exchange on scientific matters with Spinoza…” (S.xxxi). However, this paper attempts to outline some of the benefits which can be extracted from the correspondence of two important figures who stressed different aspects and approaches to our understanding of the universe. The first section of this paper will set forth the physical theories of Spinoza and Boyle. The second part will take into account their correspondence on such topics, focusing on Boyle’s nitre experiments. The third part of the paper will attempt to show that neither Spinoza nor Boyle achieved a conclusive demonstration of their positions (respective to the exchange) based upon analysis of their exchanges on the experiment in question. The fourth and final part will summarize a list of philosophical points which are useful to philosophy, in particular the philosophy of science and the physical world.

Boyle was primarily a scientist and a defender of the mechanical philosophy (with his corpuscular variation) and claimed that “the material world is made up of corpuscles of the one impenetrable matter possessing a definite shape and size and capable of motion” (Chalmers 2009, p. 97). He was a pioneer of experimental science, and acknowledged two forms of knowledge: “intermediate causes” involved in experimental science which were empirically accessible, and ultimate mechanical truth, which was not (ibid). He agreed with the proposition of Baconian science – that experiments measured observable bodies and detectable properties (Chalmers 2009, p. 99). He restricted science to material terms, with no appeal to God in relation to experiments (God exists but experimentalism’s scope does not include Him) (Chalmers 2009, p. 100).

However, his experiments with pneumatics involved pressure, etc. and were not strictly mechanical (this was acknowledged by Boyle). He realized that all of the scientific phenomena of the time were not adequately covered by the mechanical philosophy alone (for example, in describing the cohesion of a snowball, etc.) (Chalmers 2009, p. 104). He thus claimed that experiments are subject-specific (Chalmers 2009, p. 98). In his time, Thomas Hobbes, a fellow mechanical philosopher, criticized Boyle for his descriptions of the “elasticity” of air, and maintained that Boyle had provided no explanation of how it moves itself and thus had contradicted mechanical philosophy. Boyle himself admitted that it was not a mechanical explanation, yet he had shown experimentally that air has a spring and that this quality can be appealed to (Chalmers 2009, p. 109). Boyle maintained that work needed to be guided by “grand hypotheses”, but under scrutiny, he changed its aim to the establishment of “matters of fact” (ibid).

He was more than ever opposed to going back to Aristotlean forms and the Greek position of giving an account of the reality behind the appearances, or “primary affections” (Chalmers 2009, p. 105). Instead, like Bacon, he felt that science was merely a set of “histories”, and that experimentation was different than mechanical philosophy. The highest level of causes may be important for human beings to discover, but in actuality they may be different from what we suppose them. He cautions that “we may aspire to, but must not always require or expect, such a knowledge of things as is immediately derived from first principles.” (Chalmers 2009, p. 106). So experimental science had “subordinate principles” and “intermediate causes” only (ibid).

He acknowledged that experimental knowledge is not infallible, and that unknown causes can lead to errors. Therefore its primary function was to rule out untenable alternatives and refine the theories (Chalmers 2009, p. 109). He saw that at the extreme end there were metaphysics which were not possible to be tested (Chalmers 2009, p. 110). The main difference between a theory of mechanical philosophy and experiments was that the former required more proof, since it was not a “matter of fact” (Chalmers 2009, p. 111). Boyle claimed that mechanical philosophy was simply a useful tool, like a cipher in solving a puzzle (the idea that evidence was more a function of accommodation versus confirmation of the truth) (Chalmers 2009, p. 112).

On the other hand, Gabbey maintains that it is difficult to know the exact methodology of Spinoza’s physical theory and notes his absence in the authoritative “Dictionary of Scientific Biography” as proof of his not being considered a “proper scientist” (although some works do include him) (Gabbey 1996, pp. 142-148). Savan maintains that for Spinoza, science was “incidental” to major concerns of salvation, ethics, etc. (Savan 1986, p. 100). Spinoza’s physical science was loosely Cartesian (in both content and method) and indeed he reworked Descartes’s “Principles of Philosophy” (Gabbey 1996, p. 155). Like Descartes, he derived a priori his natural laws, claiming they were merely attributes of God (Gabbey 1996, p. 156). He believed that there was only extension and mode – that it is size, shape, and motion alone which distinguish substances, and that individual bodies are individuated by motion and rest alone. He believed that bodies are not made of different substances but are modifications of a single substance. He believed even that man himself was a part of nature, and that there was no such thing as “interference” with “nature”, that everything which happens in nature is a modification of one substance (Gabbey 1996, pp. 180- 1). He was however, not an Occasionalist (there was no outside influence of God) (Garber 1988, p. 593) rather bodies were infused with inherent activity (Garber 1988, p. 594).

Like the prevalent theories of the day, Spinoza’s physical theory was dismissive of occult qualities, yet it was also distinguished by its antagonism to experimentalism. Spinoza maintained that empirical findings at best give examples of what reason already demonstrates, and that experimentation was useful but not conclusive. Experimentation was insufficient to gain absolute knowledge and so had limited utility. Although more aloof from practical science, Spinoza nonetheless kept abreast of the latest developments and corresponded with many contemporary figures on the subject (Gabbey 1996 p. 148). He wanted to strive towards a “unified body of interrelated demonstrative truths” and sought in his methodology “the Whole” as opposed to Atomism (Gabbey 1996, pp. 156-7). He agrees with the Baconian notion that science was merely “natural and experimental histories” and felt that natural interpretation can be likened to Scriptural interpretation – that there ought to be a basis from which to derive interpretation (Gabbey 1996, p. 170). Also like Bacon, he believed in the fact that experiential vaga, or random experimentation, could only obtain so much – that it must be directed to produce any results (Gabbey 1996, p. 172).

The result was that Spinoza wanted to “eliminate the explanatory appeal to incorporeal things in the physical world, without eliminating those things themselves” (Garber 1988, p. 591). He believed in a parallel of bodies and thought and God/Nature had infinite attributes (ibid). Spinoza’s “true Method” was “the knowledge alone of the pure understanding”. Thus experimentation can only confirm incontrovertible logical truths, and vaga was “not determined by the intellect” (Gabbey 1996, pp. 171-2). Perceptions lead to inferences, yet counter-examples can be produced, so they are not infallible (ibid). Experimentation is useful but not conclusive (Gabbey 1996, p. 175). He actually saw no distinction between everyday experience and scientific reasoning (Savan 1986, p. 108).

E.W. von Tschirnhaus, in his own correspondence with him, criticized Spinoza’s “Method”, claiming that “Method is nothing but a reflexive knowledge” (Gabbey 1996, p. 177) and that “Method” doesn’t give new information but only what is already established while experimentation can give only sensory knowledge and not causes (ibid). Maull asserts that Spinoza seeks certainty and needs only a few experiments to “know” something (given his philosophically tight deductive approach) and raises the question: “Why given Spinoza’s apparent interest in experiment, is he so estranged from it philosophically?” (Maull 1986, p. 7). She concludes, “Consequently, what we get from Spinoza is a physical theory…that is neither drawn from nor applicable to a concrete embodiment in particular natural phenomena.” (Maull 1986, pp. 8-10).

One of Boyle’s essays discussed in particular was “On Nitre, Fluidity, and Firmness” (W.84). It described the following experiment: a glowing coal was placed upon on nitre (saltpeter and potassium nitrate) which produced fixed (fixed nitre, potash, and potassium carbonate) and volatile (spirit of nitre and nitric acid) parts. (Gabbey 1996, p. 178). The parts were then recombined and quantitatively almost the same amount of nitre was recovered. Boyle concluded that nitre is a chemical compound (not a mechanical mixture) consisting of parts substantially different in physical and chemical natures. He observed that the spirit was acidic and the fixed portion was alkaline. These differences in turn upheld the corpuscular theory of nature (individual parts were maintained) but not substantial forms, given the altered substances (Gabbey 1996, p. 177-8).

From the outset of their correspondence, Spinoza felt that Bacon had “more than adequately demonstrated” substantial qualities based on mechanics (motion, shape, etc.) (Gabbey 1996, p. 171). In Letter IV, Spinoza makes no distinction between the parts derived in the experiment and sees no reason for Boyle’s conclusion. He goes on to give his own mechanical explanation that they are all the same (W.85-86). He also conducts his own experiments and further explains Boyle’s observations of taste and flammability (W.87-89). He goes on to decry the superfluity of experimentation and holds that common observations suffice as well (W.91). He says, “It does not immediately follow that a particle of matter acquires a new shape because it is joined to another: it only follows that it becomes larger, and this is sufficient to produce the effect which the very illustrious author seeks in this section.” (W.93). Spinoza’s objection was that Boyle needed a further experiment to actually prove that nitre and spirit of nitre were different. He maintained that fixed nitre was only an “impurity” in the original. He further demanded that multiple experiments were required to test if indeed the same quantity was always reproduced (Gabbey 1996, p. 178). Spinoza went on to theorize that nitre and its spirit had fixed, rigid, carrot-shaped parts (the same). Boyle had claimed that he had reached “primary and mechanical affectations” but Spinoza claimed that Boyle had not give a mechanical account – that a conclusive account should show geometrical particle differentiation. (Gabbey 1996, p. 179).

Oldenberg replies in Letter XI that: The object that he [Boyle] had set before himself was not so much to show that this was a really philosophic and perfect analysis of Nitre, but rather to explain that the common Doctrine of Substantial Forms and Qualities which is also accepted in the Schools, rests on a weak foundation, and that what they call the specific differences of things can be reduced to the magnitude, motion, rest and position of their parts.[…] Meanwhile, he thinks that your suppositions about the process, your view that the fixed salt of the Nitre is as it were its dregs, and other similar suppositions, are gratuitous and unproved.” (W.110-111). He agrees with Spinoza that nitre and its spirit are the same, but holds they are not the same forms due to the observations (W.111-12). He goes on to clarify Boyle’s intentions – that he did not think other writers in his time had clearly given mechanical explanations and only sought to improve the situation and concludes: “Our Boyle belongs to the number of those who have not so much confidence in their reason as to wish that Phenomena should agree with their reason.” (W.112). He also claims there is a difference between common experiments where there are unknown Natural contributions and isolated experiments which rule them out (ibid).

In Letter XIII, Spinoza says that he did not think Boyle’s motive was only to disavow the doctrine of substantial forms. Rather he felt that Boyle really wanted to explain the nature of nitre and its heterogeneous body whereas he did not necessarily achieve this. He went on to say that it was not necessary to prove his own suppositions – that he had merely to suppose them as an alternative. He reiterated that his experiment on flammability was only to show what common experience held and that indeed even his own experiments only confirmed reason “to a certain extent” (W.124). He goes on to pose what he considers an important unanswered question related to the experiment: Does it cease to be nitre if the particles are rubbed until their shapes change? (W.127). Spinoza again stresses the superfluity of experimentation: Why would it be clearer or prove more than common experience could? He counters that Boyle’s example of burning wood (which he gave as an example of something more simple) is not conclusive since, Spinoza claims, we know the actual nature of either so what is the difference? How does Boyle know what nature actually contributed in the case of this experiment, although it is claimed that the causes are isolated in the laboratory? He gives a counterexample of a “simple” phenomenon, of dye affecting matter – and claims that there may be imperceptible changes in quality (for example odor) or the example of amber, which cannot be perceived until heat is applied to it: How would we rest assured that indeed we had isolated the barest causes and some imperceptible agent was not the true cause? (W.128-9). He says that rather his own explanation is simpler and better than Boyle’s and that his own experiments confirm his hypothesis “to some extent” (Savan 1986, p. 115). Boyle declined to give an exact mechanical commentary and maintained that he had only showed that nitre had been broken up and built up, thus ridding the reliance upon substantial forms, which Spinoza took for granted (Chalmers 2009, p. 109).

In Letter XVI Oldenberg requests Spinoza to please read the preface of the work and to understand the intent was never to explain nature, rather make recordings of a “certain heterogeneity” observed in the experiment. After a few more replies and minor considerations, the exchange was at an end, Boyle remaining silent on many of Spinoza’s exacting insistences (W.136-7).

In analyzing the exchange, Wolf mentions in his introduction that: Spinoza…was a philosopher first and foremost. He was certainly interested also in science […] But his interests were mainly directed to the wider issues involved – issues for which Boyle had little understanding and less appreciation. So the two were not likely to pull well together. Spinoza, indeed, recognized and appreciated the importance of such detailed observations and experiments as Boyle was carrying out and recording. But he also realized their shortcomings, and was candid enough to express his thoughts. (W.42) and states that the “mechanical interpretation of natural phenomena” was the “most important aspect of [the] correspondence” (W.42). Savan points out that Spinoza’s approach was rather “ad hoc” and his experiments were solely conducted as a criticism of Boyle’s work (Savan 1986, p. 95). Gabbey mentions that the further quantitative experiments that Spinoza proposed would also show if fixed nitre was indeed an “impurity” and wondered why he felt his own supposition did not need to be proved as well (Gabbey 1996, p. 178). Gabbey furthermore finds utility in the exchange, urging, “We ought to look afresh at Spinoza’s insistence on the epistemological insufficiencies of the experimental way.” (Gabbey 1996, p. 180). Maull says that Spinoza had “no need to embrace any standard of justification that fell short of deductive proof” (Maull 1986, p. 6) and claims that in posing questions about what experimentation actually yields, the results of both Boyle’s and Spinoza’s experimentations were inconclusive. At any rate, mechanical philosophy was justified by mathematical proofs from “higher principles” which led Descartes himself ultimately to stress that he had only “moral certainty” (ibid). Maull concludes: Spinoza did not consider Boyle’s experiments useless; rather a documentation of every liquid with accuracy; a history or cataloge of nature, but that commonplace observations were equivalent to experimentations, all of which yielded no hypotheses of nature (Maull 1986, p. 7).

As for the philosophical fruits which can be derived from this exchange, I give the following useful point: Which comes first: theory or experimentation? This seems to be the central tension between philosophy and science, one which was well-exemplified in the exchange between Boyle and Spinoza (among countless others). The record of interplay between the two throughout history seems to indicate a cyclic quality which itself continually furthers the progress of both fields. Spinoza and Boyle both claimed that the highest causes were unknowable (although Spinoza, being mainly a philosopher, had more adeptness in sticking to this than did Boyle, immured in the practical field of science). Yet, it is impossible to have only theory, because what we are trying to discover the truth of (ie the universe) is something unknowable without some experience (for example, it is not a logical truth that things made of glass break when dropped upon a hard surface but simply a truth within a system). Contrariwise, experimentation without theory, as Bacon himself posited, is useless and is akin to random scribblings in the dark. Our actions, whether right or wrong, must be guided by theory. Yet, these theories are suppositions of “truth” or “causes”, the very thing which both Spinoza and Boyle (among countless others) acknowledge in the end. I propose that this is a necessary and useful tension. I close with a quote from Chalmers that “What was scientific about the scientific revolution, in my view, was the emergence of experimental science as distinct from philosophical theories about the ultimate structure of matter.” (Chalmers 2009, p. 97).

Abbreviations:

E = Spinoza, Benedict de. Improvement of the Understanding, Ethics and Correspondence. Trans. R. H. M. Elwes. London: M. Walter Dunne, 1901.

S = Selected Philosophical Papers of Robert Boyle. Ed. M. A. Stewart. Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, 1991.

W = The Correspondence of Spinoza. Ed. and trans. A. Wolf. New York: The Dial Press.

Bibliography:

Chalmers, Alan. 2009. The Scientist’s Atom and the Philosopher’s Stone: How Science Succeeded and Philosophy Failed to Gain Knowledge of Atoms. Boston Studies in the Philosophy of Science #279. Berlin: Springer.

Gabbey, Alan. 1996. “Spinoza’s Natural Science and Methodology.” In Garrett 1996, pp. 142-191.

Garber, Daniel. 1988. “New Doctrines of Body and its Powers, Place, and Space.” In Garber , vol. 1, pp. 553-623.

Garber, Daniel, ed. 1988. The Cambridge History of Seventeenth-Century Philosophy: Two Volumes. New York: Cambridge University Press.

Garrett, Don, ed. 1996. The Cambridge Companion to Spinoza. New York: Cambridge University Press.

Grene, Marjorie, and Debra Nails, eds. 1986. Spinoza and the Sciences. Boston Studies in the Philosophy of Science Vol. 91. Dordrecht: D. Reidel Publishing Co.

Maull, Nancy. “Spinoza in the Century of Science.” In Grene, pp. 3-13.

Savan, David. “Spinoza: Scientist and Theorist of Scientific Method.” In Grene, pp. 95- 123.

[1] See Garber 1988, p. 553 for a general overview of the emerging mechanist philosophy, and pages 585 and 588 to see overviews of Descartes’s views as well as a note on the corpuscular philosophy.

[2] See the same citation for Wolf’s assertions as to the plausible cause of why a more direct correspondence was avoided.

When Miracles Cease

Posted in Islam on October 30th, 2009

when you’re in kindergarten, and you get “1+1=2″ correct, your teacher pats you on the head and exclaims, “good job!”

now you could defend a brilliant phd proposal and no one cares

many years ago, when i discovered the prayer of istekhaarah, it was amazing - jumping out of a plane with no parachute, certain god will catch you - and every time i did it, despite what the whole world said, how much they cautioned or augured ill for me, i witnessed miracles

i still pray istekhaarah, more even than i used to before, almost at ridiculously small steps i take in my life (due to fear, sorrow, and uncertainty)

and the miracles have stopped

but i still believe in it - in fact, moreso

i’m not in kindergarten anymore

Regression

Posted in Depression on October 20th, 2009

sigh, just when life seems better, you get a glimpse of the adult world again, and how people are - adults are really disgusting people - cheap and low, no loyalty, no sense of shame, grabbing whatever they can get, backstabbing, betraying, hypocritical, 2-faced, and well, just gross

i dont think i will ever grow up at this rate - i just dont want to become on of them

all i want to do is watch tom and jerry, read nursery rhymes (lol i literally crawl into bed and read nursery rhymes and other children’s books - nice, clean, and innocent), go to the park, and well, never be an adult!

back into my shell and away from this scary, filthy world…

Nothingman

Posted in Song Lyrics on September 24th, 2009

Once divided…nothing left to subtract
Some words when spoken…cant be taken back
Walks on his own…with thoughts he cant help thinking
Futures above…but in the past hes slow and sinking
Caught a bolt a lightnin…cursed the day he let it go

Nothingman, Nothingman
Isnt it something?
Nothingman

She once believed…in every story he had to tell
One day she stiffened…took the other side
Empty stares…from each corner of a shared prison cell
One just escapes…ones left inside the well
And he who forgets…will be destined to remember…oh…oh…oh…

Nothingman…Nothingman
Isnt it something?
Nothingman

Oh, she dont want him
Oh, she wont feed him…after hes flown away
Oh, into the sun…ah, into the sun…

Burn…burn…burn…burn…burn…burn

Nothingman…Nothingman

Isnt it something?

Nothingman…Nothingman

Coulda been something…

Nothingman…

- Pearl Jam


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