I would like to say

I would like to say the philosophy papers blog is up, but actually there aren’t any new papers to link to. Ted Honderich has a paper in the Independent attacking Tony Blair, to which Chris Bertram has already responded.

I don’t normally mention mentions of papers without links, but I couldn’t help noting that Christopher Green notes on his website the existence of a paper called Psychology Strikes Out: Coleman Griffith and the Chicago Cubs.
I wonder what it could be.

Last night at dinner one of the (many) topics that came up was the quality of titles of philosophical papers. One reason for this was that one of our generous hosts is one of the best in the business at entitling. I feel like I should be writing more about the conversations, since there was lots interesting, but right now all my conversations with my inner editor are something like the following:

–Do you remember when … said … about …

–Should I? Was it worth remembering?

–Yes. Yes.

–Oh. No.

Maybe if I carried around a notepad like a little cub reporter. At one stage I defended the common newspaper practice of treating know as a synonym for truly believes in sentences like 9% of Americans know how many Iraqis were amongst the September 11 hijackers. I thought these cases really are evidence, perhaps not compelling evidence but evidence, for the claim that knowledge just is true belief. Then this morning I see that according to the NY Times, “Half of what doctors know is wrong.”

S.F. French bistro hosts protest with panache

Some days I oppose the war because of all the lives that will be lost. Some days I oppose it because I think it has by now been conclusively shown that this administration’s level of incompetency is so high that it should not be trusted with anything beyond the minimal necessary roles of government. (There’s a new conspiracy theory for you – Dick Cheney as prudential argument for small government libertarianism.) And some days I just think that I would rather be like the war’s opponents than like its supporters.

Ten people, wineglasses in hand, came to the defense of la belle France on Friday in perhaps the most civilized protest ever held in San Francisco.

There was smelly French cheese for all, strong enough to overpower what the protesters complained was the stench of U.S. foreign policy.

The protest, billed as French Friday, took place at a corner table of Cafe de la Presse, a French bistro on Bush Street. The idea was to patronize a French establishment and buy a lot of French goods — to counteract the boycott of French merchandise by those miffed at the threatened French veto of U.S.-led resolutions at the United Nations.

“I’ve been to a lot of protests, and this is the most fun,” said Bob Roth, between bites of brie….

Rafael Gonzalez celebrated all things French by administering what he said was a French kiss to his female companion, who did not object out of a sense of political correctness.

Much thanks to Geoff Nunberg for the link. I have to go wine-shopping now, and I might have to break my Australian-wine-buying habits of a lifetime out of a similar sense of political correctness.

A quick plea for help.

A quick plea for help. So a few people, including your humble narrator, have been trying to figure out just what motivates the House Republicans to want to drop the French from French fries. This is probably a question for psychoanalysis, not philosophers/linguists, but there aren’t any psychoanalysts in the house, so we are going to have to make do with what we have. Let’s agree that we won’t get to the bottom of the trouble, can we try and answer one question. Is the phenomenom of removing French from various terms a manifestation of the same phenomenon as we saw in the 1910s as all kinds of German terms were removed from the language. I initially thought the two events were closely related, and it seems clear they are related in some way, but several people to whom I suggested this thought that there was something, and it is not clear what, different about the 2003 bout of renaming to the 1910s bout. (The most amusing story from that episode is that in South Australia all town names of German origin were removed, except for Adelaide, the name of the capital and largest town.) I’ve been convinced that I was originally wrong to treat the two events as on a par, in part because it was mostly proper names that were changed then, and one can sort of tell a plausible story about why one would change names. So a question, and this may well be the least well-formed question I will ever ask on this blog, or indeed anywhere. What, if any, are the differences in motivation and execution between the renamers of the 1910s and the renamers of 2003?

Five new papers and three

Five new papers and three new journals on the philosophy papers blog. One of the new papers, A Pragmatic Framework for Truth in Fiction by Andrea Bonomi and Alessandro Zucchi, was noted on semantics, etc yesterday. (There are even more papers there already. I can’t keep up!) Bonomi and Zucchi aim to, among other things, solve the problem of imaginative resistance. I don’t think their solution is going to work – as far as I can tell on their view a racist author writing in a racist community gets to make racist theses true in his story, but I may be misinterpreting them here. (See pages 7 to 8 of the text and see what you can make of it. I think their criticism of Lewis is right here, but I honestly can’t tell if they do better.)

They are also remarkably hesitant to allow that a narrator may be making a mistake. Their formal proposal is

(21) “In fiction x, p” is true iff p is true in every world w meeting (a)-(d):

a. w is compatible with the conventions of the fiction actually denoted by x,
b. the fiction is narrated in w by a teller who believes that the fiction is true in w,
c. w is as much as the teller believes it is as is required by the presumption of reliability,
d. among the worlds meeting conditions (a)-(c), w is closest to the set of worlds that represent the overt beliefs of the author in the community where the fiction originates.

And the presumption of reliability is

Presumption of reliability. Let w be a world in which fiction x is narrated and the narrator believes that x is true. If the narrator tells that q, q is true in w unless there are reasons intrinsic to the fiction that indicate otherwise.

Well, I simply don’t think this can be true. For one thing, it means that an author cannot signal that the narrator is unreliable by having the narrator make a mistake about the real world. But that’s clearly possible. It’s hard to find a perfect illustration of this, but for an imperfect illustration, consider Eveline.

The narrator of Eveline is quite unreliable, in many ways. Although the story has a third person narrator, we’re sort of told that the narrator is Eveline herself, at least until the last few lines of the story when suddenly it isn’t. But none of the hints that this narrator is unreliable are strictly speaking intrinsic. The most prominent such hint is when Eveline thinks that when she is married she will be treated with respect, unlike her mother. The story never says that her parents are married, we are meant to take that as given and infer that Eveline’s thinking (and hence presumably the narrator’s) is unreliable at best. This is backed up when she fails to notice that ‘stories about the terrible Patagonians’ are just stories. (Or perhaps she does realise this at the end of the story? I suspect not.)

According to Bonomi and Zucchi, we cannot use real world facts at this stage of working out what is true in the story – we find out the set of worlds compatible with the story by looking at what is intrinsic to the story and then among those pick the worlds closest to the (believed to be) actual world. So we can never use actual or believed facts about the world to form judgements about reliability. Since we can, and must, do this, their proposal needs at least some emendation.

By the end of last night I had decided that the argument for the JTB theory below was totally flawed. The worry was that if intuitions about Gettier cases are grounded in a tacit commitment to sensitivity, then we should expect all insensitive beliefs are not judged to be pieces of knowledge. But we don’t always all do this. I now think this worry can be overcome, provided we say that tacitly held theories can be inconsistent, so as long as some other tacit theories are operative, we can explain why some insensitive beliefs are judged to constitute knowledge, while still dismissing other sceptical intuitions (like Gettier intuitions) as being grounded in an utterly mistaken tacit theory.

Five new papers and three

Five new papers and three new journals on the philosophy papers blog. One of the new papers, A Pragmatic Framework for Truth in Fiction by Andrea Bonomi and Alessandro Zucchi, was noted on semantics, etc yesterday. (There are even more papers there already. I can’t keep up!) Bonomi and Zucchi aim to, among other things, solve the problem of imaginative resistance. I don’t think their solution is going to work – as far as I can tell on their view a racist author writing in a racist community gets to make racist theses true in his story, but I may be misinterpreting them here. (See pages 7 to 8 of the text and see what you can make of it. I think their criticism of Lewis is right here, but I honestly can’t tell if they do better.)

They are also remarkably hesitant to allow that a narrator may be making a mistake. Their formal proposal is

(21) “In fiction x, p” is true iff p is true in every world w meeting (a)-(d):

a. w is compatible with the conventions of the fiction actually denoted by x,
b. the fiction is narrated in w by a teller who believes that the fiction is true in w,
c. w is as much as the teller believes it is as is required by the presumption of reliability,
d. among the worlds meeting conditions (a)-(c), w is closest to the set of worlds that represent the overt beliefs of the author in the community where the fiction originates.

And the presumption of reliability is

Presumption of reliability. Let w be a world in which fiction x is narrated and the narrator believes that x is true. If the narrator tells that q, q is true in w unless there are reasons intrinsic to the fiction that indicate otherwise.

Well, I simply don’t think this can be true. For one thing, it means that an author cannot signal that the narrator is unreliable by having the narrator make a mistake about the real world. But that’s clearly possible. It’s hard to find a perfect illustration of this, but for an imperfect illustration, consider Eveline.

The narrator of Eveline is quite unreliable, in many ways. Although the story has a third person narrator, we’re sort of told that the narrator is Eveline herself, at least until the last few lines of the story when suddenly it isn’t. But none of the hints that this narrator is unreliable are strictly speaking intrinsic. The most prominent such hint is when Eveline thinks that when she is married she will be treated with respect, unlike her mother. The story never says that her parents are married, we are meant to take that as given and infer that Eveline’s thinking (and hence presumably the narrator’s) is unreliable at best. This is backed up when she fails to notice that ‘stories about the terrible Patagonians’ are just stories. (Or perhaps she does realise this at the end of the story? I suspect not.)

According to Bonomi and Zucchi, we cannot use real world facts at this stage of working out what is true in the story – we find out the set of worlds compatible with the story by looking at what is intrinsic to the story and then among those pick the worlds closest to the (believed to be) actual world. So we can never use actual or believed facts about the world to form judgements about reliability. Since we can, and must, do this, their proposal needs at least some emendation.

By the end of last night I had decided that the argument for the JTB theory below was totally flawed. The worry was that if intuitions about Gettier cases are grounded in a tacit commitment to sensitivity, then we should expect all insensitive beliefs are not judged to be pieces of knowledge. But we don’t always all do this. I now think this worry can be overcome, provided we say that tacitly held theories can be inconsistent, so as long as some other tacit theories are operative, we can explain why some insensitive beliefs are judged to constitute knowledge, while still dismissing other sceptical intuitions (like Gettier intuitions) as being grounded in an utterly mistaken tacit theory.

This seems to be about

This seems to be about right for me (except for the typos!). And here was I thinking online quizzes are worthless.

Roosevelt
Democrat – You believe that there should be a free market which is reigned in by a modest state beaurocracy. You think that capitalism has some good things, but that those it helps should be obliged to help out their fellow man a little. Your historical role model is Franklin Rosevelt.

Which political sterotype are you?
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One day when I have more time I mean to write a which contemporary philosopher are you quiz, but I can’t immediately see how to do it.

By the way, be sure to read the comments on some of the posts below. As with a few other blogs I guess, the comments are generally more interesting than the surface structure. It’s just a pity that there aren’t more of them.

An Argument for the JTB theory

I dreamed I saw this argument on the train here from Boston, and I thought it was worth writing up. I also think it is worth writing a detailed commentary on, because it strikes me as plausibly sound, but that’s for another day. I also also think the argument I dreamed about was considerably more complex than this one, but I can’t entertain particularly complex thoughts while actively conscious. Note that by sensitive here, I mean to denote a property beliefs have to the effect that they would not exist were it not the case that they were true.

  1. For all F, if an intuition that a particular justified true belief (JTB) does not constitute knowledge is grounded in the fact that the JTB in question is not F, and it is not true that all knowledge is F, that intuition does not constitite evidence against the theory that all justified true beliefs constitute knowledge. (the JTB theory).
  2. If there is no example of a sensitive JTB that is intuitively not knowledge, then the intuition that a particular insensitive JTB does not constitute knowledge is grounded in the fact that it is not sensitive.
  3. Not all knowledge is sensitive.
  4. There is no example of a sensitive JTB that is intuitively not knowledge.
  5. If there is no intuition about a particular case that constitutes evidence against the JTB theory, then the JTB theory is true.
  6. Therefore, the JTB theory is true.

As I said, I could go on for a while about the evidence in favour of each of the premises, but for now I’ll just leave you with the argument. It could probably do with some tidying up in places to guarantee its validity, particularly to do with the notion of evidence in premises 1 and 5, but I think it is clear enough what is going on there.

An Argument for the JTB theory

I dreamed I saw this argument on the train here from Boston, and I thought it was worth writing up. I also think it is worth writing a detailed commentary on, because it strikes me as plausibly sound, but that’s for another day. I also also think the argument I dreamed about was considerably more complex than this one, but I can’t entertain particularly complex thoughts while actively conscious. Note that by sensitive here, I mean to denote a property beliefs have to the effect that they would not exist were it not the case that they were true.

  1. For all F, if an intuition that a particular justified true belief (JTB) does not constitute knowledge is grounded in the fact that the JTB in question is not F, and it is not true that all knowledge is F, that intuition does not constitite evidence against the theory that all justified true beliefs constitute knowledge. (the JTB theory).
  2. If there is no example of a sensitive JTB that is intuitively not knowledge, then the intuition that a particular insensitive JTB does not constitute knowledge is grounded in the fact that it is not sensitive.
  3. Not all knowledge is sensitive.
  4. There is no example of a sensitive JTB that is intuitively not knowledge.
  5. If there is no intuition about a particular case that constitutes evidence against the JTB theory, then the JTB theory is true.
  6. Therefore, the JTB theory is true.

As I said, I could go on for a while about the evidence in favour of each of the premises, but for now I’ll just leave you with the argument. It could probably do with some tidying up in places to guarantee its validity, particularly to do with the notion of evidence in premises 1 and 5, but I think it is clear enough what is going on there.

I think I might have

I think I might have to keep writing about French toast forever, it opens up too many lines of thought. At the APA Pacific I was meant to be making some comments on semantic drift, and I was previously going to talk about pre- and post- Joycean uses of ‘epiphany’, but now I think I might just talk about French toast. Anyway, for a while yesterday I was worried by the following little argument. Assume that French toast is named after the Albany diner proprietor Mr French. Does this mean they are not named after the French? Well, possibly not, because presumably Mr French was, someway or other, named after the French. But this little argument doesn’t go through, because named after is not transitive. Possible example, though only possible because the facts may not back this up. If I name a child Dylan after Bob Dylan, and Bob Dylan is (self-)named after Dylan Thomas, it does not follow that the child is named after Dylan Thomas. I don’t know whether His Bobness is named after Dylan Thomas (I remember reading that he denied the connection, but that’s not entirely conclusive), so maybe it isn’t a perfect example, but I think it makes the needed point.

I’ve been translated: Arguments et

I’ve been translated: Arguments et Rants de pensées. I have no idea why it reverts to English part of the way down.
I think this is actually kind of cute, I don’t think I’ve seen anything I’ve written translated into another language, even by a machine, in the past.

So this afternoon I’m going to the paper by Zoltán Szabó at MIT. I was just looking over the handout for the talk, and I noticed there are lots of refernces to the Daily Planet, references to it of course as the place where Clark Kent et al work. But it took me a while to remember that was what it meant, because for me the main association with the word is a so-named and particularly prominent brothel just opposite the Elsternwick train station. Which, not coincidentally, was where I caught trains every day for a while a few years ago. The brothel has particularly elegant front doors opening out onto the street that runs alongside the train line, but for some reason those never seemed to be used. I guess there were slightly less prominent exits and entrances as well.

So now whenever says Daily Planet, my first reaction, a la BeavisandButthead, is something like, hehehehe he said Daily Planet hehehehe. I fear this won’t help me appreciate the philosophical points being made.