The Modern Deified State

It is an axiom of practical politics that the power of government is limited. Realities beyond the control of even the most brilliant politicians constrain the effective potency of curative and preventative policies. Even ingenuous states, where the impetuous govern, recognize the exact contours of such limiting, dynamic constraints. Yet, unlike practiced states, where the prudent govern, the impetuous believe that limitations represent mere economic boundaries, overcome through skilled applications of state power. And the greater the boundaries, the greater justification for an increased application of that power, no matter the cost. Poverty, disease, internal strife, territorial integrity, and global conflict can each be overcome at the right price. Government can right “nearly” every wrong, correct “nearly” every injustice—while never discovering a wrong or injustice that state power cannot cure. In the face of such promise, the ingenuous will benevolently appropriate the resources of generations to come, converting them to their own present benefit. Such ennobling optimism eventually exhausts vital energies, bequeathing future generations a shell, incapable of responding to the smallest of difficulties. In the end, the hubris of the ingenuous state, where the impetuous govern, lies in the belief that the state can accomplish the miracles of a deity, which more than justifies the sacrifice of all necessary means to state ends. The sooner we recognize that the state cannot right “nearly” every wrong, nor correct “nearly” every injustice, the sooner we will proceed to govern with prudence and aim towards improving society with care, bequeathing an intact state to progeny that is prepared to meet the most taxing difficulties. The trouble in practiced and prudent governance, then, is living in hell, while waiting for heaven. Heaven may come, but it will not come in a crazed, half-coherent rush to the gates, for heaven will never permit such to enter. 

Jonathan Lear On Freud's Unconscious

In his book on Freud, Jonathan Lear argues that theorists systematically misunderstand the nature of the unconscious. In particular, psychoanalysts and philosophers model the unconscious after a second mind with “an articulated, rationalizing structure,” which he argues “is the wrong way to conceive of the unconscious, at least in its deepest forms[.]”[1]

            In pursuit of this thesis, Lear recounts an event from one of Freud’s patients, Mr. R:

He is walking along a road on which he knows his lady-friend will later be traveling in a carriage. He removes a stone from the road so that the carriage will not be damaged. A bit later he feels compelled to go back to replace the stone in the road.[2]

What accounts for Mr. R’s seemingly contradictory behavior? Lear posits a “second mind” explanation wherein the act of replacing the stone is an act of anger towards his lady-friend, flowing from “reasons . . . of which he is unaware.” In other words, when Mr. R removed the stone it was an act of love motivated by a set of internally-consistent reasons. Similarly, when he replaced the stone, it was an act of hate motivated by a set of internally-consistent reasons. The contradiction, on this “second mind” view, arises when the two behaviors get juxtaposed together, “[f]or there doesn’t seem to be any perspective from which this behavior [the taking and replacing of the stone] looks reasonable.”[3]

            In short, to make sense of two severable activities—those of removing and replacing the stone—which taken together are irrational, “we must partition his [Mr. R’s] mind into quasi-independent structures—a conscious mind and an unconscious mind—each part having a certain rationality of its own.”[4] Accordingly, “within each part of the mind there is a holistic coherence; the incoherence arises when motivations from these disparate parts clash.”[5] This clash supplies ample reasons to posit an unconscious mind with a rational structure that functions like “another person” with motivations all his own.

            Lear, however, rejects this Jekyll/Hyde view in favor of a brooding unconscious rife with emotion, but wanting any rational structure. In favor of this view, Lear introduces developmental psychology as applied to emotive life. Drawing on examples from Mr. R’s life again, Lear notes that Mr. R would, during moments of intense anxiety, leap from Freud’s couch, fearing that Freud would hit him as his father used to.[6] Lear suspects that Mr. R “never developed the capacity to tolerate anxiety, thus he does not have the capacity to let anxiety develop into more fully formed emotions.”[7] Mr. R’s poor tolerance, Lear further suspects, is the result of his father repeatedly beating him as a child.[8] Accordingly, fearing not only the rage of others—like his father—and his own rage, Mr. R unintentionally and automatically responds like a child in the face of fear; he recoils and runs from the good doctor.[9]

            So what exactly is going on here? “In such cases, the experience of fear inhibits the development of the capacity to experience [mature] fear.”[10] In short, fear becomes a stimulus inducing an automatic response to inhibit the experience of further fear. Where is the unconscious in all of this? Lear claims that,

Mr. R’s problem is that, unbeknownst to himself, he has taken over this inhibiting process and made it his own. . . . So, when he starts to feel threatened, he reacts with that behavioral-and-emotional pattern he learned from childhood: he jumps-and-cringes-and-flees. . . . He is deploying his own emotions to disrupt his own emotional development.[11]

In short, Mr. R unconsciously induces “anxiety” and “fear” because it “has some strategic value; and that is why it has been selected.”[12] As a strategic response, it has become a defense mechanism, used to ward off intense emotional experiences Mr. R is unable to tolerate.

            Lear insists that “there is no easy or clear language with which to describe” what occurs when Mr. R automatically and unintentionally leaps from the couch. That response, “does not express a propositional attitude.” Instead, “[t]he emotional outburst is motivated, it does flow from an emotional orientation towards Freud, but that orientation does not have sufficient structure to count as a reason. . . . It is the stuff from which a reason might develop—if only emotional outbursts like this one were not themselves preventing the development of reasons.”[13] In other words, Mr. R’s unconscious motivates his action, but not through internally-consistent acts, like a second-mind, but through emotively induced behaviors.

            At first glance, this all appears muddled. However, the following is, I believe, what Lear is saying: During childhood a particular event disrupts the normal development of a particular emotion. The particularly intense experience causes an emotional “tick” to form in the child—in this case, running and fleeing. When future events induce the emotion, the tick reemerges, suppressing further experience of the emotion that the child cannot tolerate—somewhat like learned muscle memory responding to a stimulus. At some point in the child’s maturation, he unconsciously takes over this “tick,” inducing it—in this case, inducing fear and anxiety—as a strategy to ward off further experiences of the emotions, since he never developed a tolerance to them. Again, as Lear indicates, “[n]ow Mr. R’s problem is that, unbeknownst to himself, he has taken over this inhibiting process and made it his own.”[14]

            This view of the unconscious appears problematic, however. First, it is unclear what positing an unconscious taking over of the process is adding, when the inhibiting behavior—i.e. fleeing and cringing—already automatically manifested itself. In other words, we can save the appearances and posit these responses as learned behaviors in response to a given type of stimuli. The unconscious, in other words, lacks theoretical economy, thereby succumbing to Ockham’s Razor.

            Second, the notion of willed emotions smacks of implausibility. Emotional responses are not under our direct control. During spells of deep depression, I cannot will happiness. Our emotive life doesn’t work that way. I can structure my life in certain definite ways to foster certain preferable emotions to manifest—for example, by surrounding myself with optimistic and loving individuals, exercising, maintaining a healthy diet and consistent sleep schedule, I can foster a better temperament. In other words, emotions are indirectly under my control, not directly. I cannot deploy them at will for their strategic value. And it is not clear how attributing this magical willing of emotions to the unconscious solves the problem.

            In the end, however, the most questionable aspect of Lear’s thesis is that it doesn’t seem to escape the “second-mind” model. Lear may rejects that model—which views the unconscious as an internally-consistent rational structure capable of giving reasons for acting—and introduces in its stead an unconscious tactician-wizard. His unconscious is a tactician insofar as it deploys emotional states because they have “some strategic value; and that is why it has been selected.”[15] Similarly, his unconscious is a wizard insofar as it possesses powers unknown to the conscious mind, directly conjuring emotional states at will. So, while Lear’s proposal is fascinating and attempts to provide a more holistic vision of the human subject, while incorporating an unconscious, in the end, I am doubtful whether Lear’s proposal actually eliminates the “second-mind” model. In short, we’ve returned to the second-mind model, where the mind is a master tactician and a wizard of the emotions.

---

[1] Jonathan Lear, Freud (New York: Routledge, 2005) 24 – 25. 

[2] Freud, Notes on a case of obsessional neurosis, S.E. X:191 – 92 (as cited in Lear, 24).

[3] Id., 26.

[4] Id.

[5] Id.

[6] See id. 30 – 41.

[7] Id. 33.

[8] Id., 34 – 35.

[9] Id.

[10] Id.  at 36.

[11] Id.

[12] Id. at 37.

[13] Id., 38.

[14] Id.,  36.

[15] Id. at 37.

Disentangling Immaterial Souls

Classical Christian doctrine—and for that matter, nearly the whole of contemporary Christian doctrine—espouses belief in immaterial souls. Properly understood, our immaterial souls ground individual identity, conscious life, rationality, and moral accountability. At time of biological death, our souls will separate from the physical body, with the hopes of reunion at resurrection day.

Despite its respectable genealogy—mostly attributable to Plato—and its widespread acceptance, the doctrine of immaterial souls cannot fulfill the measure of its creation. One reason is the inability to disentangle and distinguish one immaterial soul from another.

Matter, unlike an immaterial soul, can be identified via its location in space-time.[1] Matter is extended and locatable in relation to other physical entities. An immaterial soul, by contrast, is not extended and not locatable in space-time. Consequently, we cannot distinguish your soul and my soul by indexing them to a particular space-time location.

Thus, this question emerges: in virtue of what are two immaterial souls disentangled and distinguished?

One proposal distinguishes immaterial souls with reference to a unique, identifying psychology. This psychology would include a unique set of memories, habits, character traits, and the like.

This suggestion, however, may prove inadequate. To begin, memories, habits, character traits, and the like are constituted by, and are manifested in, the causal structure of reality. My psychology is formed, in significant part, during interaction with the social and physical world. Further, my psychology manifests itself in relation to that social and physical world. So, it is not clear how my immaterial soul possesses a psychology that is dependent on the causal structure of the world. Such an immaterial psychology would be, at best, always in potentiality until reunion with a resurrected body and that is like no psychology we are familiar with.

More importantly, though, this suggestion suffers conceptual breakdown. Imagine a parallel universe identical to this universe in all relevant respects. Now imagine your parallel twin in that universe. She possesses your identical psychological structure. She has your same temperament, habits, and predilections. In short, respecting psychology, you and your parallel twin are identical. However, your parallel twin is not identical to you, since you reside in different universes. Now imagine that at the exact moment you die, your parallel twin also dies. At time of soul/body separation, you and your parallel twin possess the identical psychological structure. Thus, if your immaterial soul is distinguished from your parallel twin’s immaterial soul by psychology, it follows that at time of death, you and your parallel twin are identical. For that matter, it follows that your souls are identical during life as well. Yet, logic compels the distinction all along the way.[2] Importantly, even though this may never happen in the actual world, it shows that conceptually, the criterion cannot possibly correct.  

The parallel twin example suggests another way to disentangle and distinguish immaterial souls: each immaterial soul is distinguished by being associated with a particular body. But again, conceptually, this criterion won’t suffice. Imagine that God assigns an archangel, call him Michael, to create and bind immortal souls to particular human bodies at the time of conception.[3] However, prior to Noah’s flood, God and the other archangels are overworked and so recruit Michael to help. Unfortunately, one day Michael, multitasking and distracted, creates a soul and fails to properly bind it to its intended body. The floodwaters eventually roll in, destroying the soulless shell of a body, and the created soul never unites with its intended host. Fortunately, Michael, now devoted full time to soul-body binding, never repeats the former accident. At the end of God’s magnificent redemptive work, every single human soul was associated with a particular body, except one. However, this single immaterial soul can be distinguished precisely in virtue of the fact that it was never associated with a particular body. Thus, a soul can be distinguished without being associated with a particular body.

Now imagine the same thought experiment in the reverse: imagine the exact same scenario. Michael is distracted during Noah’s flood, only this time he does not misplace a single soul, but places two created souls into a single body. The result is conjoined-soul twins that share the same host body. If they are distinguished by reference to a particular body, then they will be identical and hence indistinguishable. But God created two souls. In short, the body-soul association suggestion can’t possibly be right. 

At this point, one may argue that God distinguishes souls. He recognizes each individual soul and in that recognition disentangles and distinguishes them. But the question reoccurs: in virtue of what does God recognize and distinguish each individual soul? Is it in virtue of a soul’s psychology, including its memories and habits? Is it in virtue of a body-soul association? Some combination? Some other criterion altogether? In the end, this explanation may prove theologically satisfying, but it will not prove philosophically satisfying.

Faced with similar arguments, German Idealists, like Hegel, and some strains of Buddhist thought, deny the existence of immaterial souls. Instead, since souls cannot be distinguished, such theorists hold, there must be a single, unifying principle, or world/universe soul underlying all of empirical reality. Accordingly, a deep unity pervades all apparently distinguishable phenomena. At the other extreme, contemporary physicalists, like Daniel Dennett and Patricia Churchland, deny immaterial souls. Instead, humans are beautifully complex meat computers, nothing more.

Between these two responses, Mormonism points to a third-way: a layered physical reality, with material souls. And I will walk that “third-way” in a subsequent post.

---

[1] Though I note, quantum mechanics may challenge this claim.

[2] An argument from contradiction demonstrating the distinction could be supplied by relying upon Leibniz criterion of identity, which states that if x=y, then anything that can be predicated of x, can be predicated of y. The fact that you and your parallel twin reside in distinct universes supplies all we need to generate such an argument. I spare you the details. 

[3] In Christian theology the view that God creates the soul at time of conception is called creationism. By contrast, traducianism is the view that individual souls are generated as a natural result of the procreation process.  

Is Ethical Relativism Possible?

I fear our era has succumbed to ethical relativism—the view that there are no objective standards of right and wrong holding for all historical epochs, cultures, or individuals. “Different strokes for different folks,” is the anthem of our generation. “It is right for him,” or “that is her morality,” are regular facets of the relativists' discourse.       

Ironically, in my experience, those most committed to ethical relativism are unable to maintain their “enlightened,” views in practice. Emotion filled injunctions against war, torture, racisim and cultural imperialism are equally common facets of their discourse. If you doubt this, I encourage you to tell an ethical relativist that it is your morality to force your morality onto others. See how long they continue to sing their “different strokes for different folks,” anthem. While such observations indicate that ethical relativism is untenable in practice, I maintain that it is self-contradictory, on a conceptual level.

To see this, note that adherents—at least when they are not in an emotional fugue state— marshal arguments against objective moral standards. A common argument points to wide differences in cultural norms and mores, inferring that this evidence conclusively demonstrates the nonexistence of objective moral standards.[1] Whatever the virtues of such an argument are, it is important to note that all such arguments—and all arguments in general—rest on an implicit premise: if the argument is sound or cogent, we ought to accept it. In other words, it would be wrong to withhold our accent. Alternatively, it would be right or good to accent. Apparently, such arguments are supposed to be valid for all historical epochs, cultures or individuals. If I argue that cultural norms have varied throughout history and moral norms are therefore relative to historical epoch and culture, I am claiming that such observations would hold regardless of their time or location of utterance, and that therefore we ought to accept the inferred conclusion.

The normative terms, right, good, and ought, are presupposed with every argument. In fact, ethical relativists cannot offer any argument for their position without presupposing the imperative force their arguments should have for any person, at any place, during any time. The fact that such terms cannot be denied without contradiction indicates that their content—viz., goodness, rightness, etc.—is a basic feature of human cognition. We cannot engage in discourse, nor have knowledge of the world, free of such features.

In fact, an ethical relativist cannot escape the conclusion I have offered here without presupposing the content of those normative terms. For assume that a proponent were to argue against what I have said here. For example, he argues that my observations, as to the normative structure of argumentation, are flawed; or that relativists do not assume that their arguments hold across all times, places, or individuals. In rolling out his argument and positing his conclusion, the relativist would claim that “for these reasons we ought to reject what has been said here.” His argument would apparently apply to any similar observations, as to the normative structure of argumentation, regardless of time, location or person making such observations; or that relativists, regardless of time, location or proponent, do not make such assumptions. In other words, the ethical relativist, whatever the argument, cannot argue against what I have said here without presupposing the normative term, ought, good, or right.

Importantly, the foregoing normative terms are the basic terms employed in all ethical discourse. If they are a basic feature of human cognition, as I have argued here, their use can extend beyond argumentation, touching various fixtures of reality. Ethical relativism cannot argue against the objective existence of such terms without presupposing them. Perhaps I am wrong. If so, I invite the ethical relativist to present an argument that we ought to accept, contrary to what I have said here. In so doing, perhaps the proponent can rescue relativism from its self-contradiction and reestablishing it as a theory that ought to apply to all individuals, across all cultural and historical epochs. Needless to say, I won’t hold my breath. 

---

[1] In my experience, if proponents offer arguments at all, they are not much more sophisticated than this. Yet, it must be noted that there are numerous sophisticated arguments for ethical relativism. Presenting such arguments is unnecessary for my purposes. My observations will point out general features common to all argumentation, however sophisticated. 

Leaving Neutral Ground: Same-Sex Marriage and Moral Neutrality Under the Law

It has often been said, by those within my personal circle, "I personally believe that same-sex marriage is wrong, but I don't want to impose my morality on others. The law should be morally neutral on this issue for equality's sake." Those who hold this view apparently fail to recognize that in uttering, "the law should be morally neutral," they are advocating a moral position, the contours of which are elucidated by the statement, "the law should be neutral as between neutrality and non-neutrality"—a logical impossibility. In other words, moral neutrality under the law proposes the cleansing of all moral views from the law, save moral neutrality itself. Uttering this proposition is somewhat like singing, "I am not singing!" Its self-referential inconsistency makes the position rationally suspect. Unfortunately, the proposition's inconsistency is dwarfed by its own absurd implications. As I see it, moral neutrality entails two such absurdities: (1) it undermines the basis upon which laws are said to be just or unjust, and (2) it abolishes the notion of "equality," from the law, or, in the very least, requires a non-moral rendering of that concept. [1]

First, moral neutrality undermines the basis upon which laws are evaluated. Minimally, the Law is that body of propositions which cannot conflict with moral edicts, if there be any—a concession to any moral nihilists which may be reading. For example, if it is morally impermissible to destroy another's property, without justification or consent, the law cannot sanction such acts and remain just. Some proponents of same-sex marriage recognizing this evaluative force say, "marriage is a basic human right," implying that marriage is a malleable form admitting of varying arraignments. If true, then the law is compelled to recognize such unions, unless some overriding considerations compel otherwise [2].  

Advocates of moral neutrality would blind the Law as to right and wrong. After all, if the law draws upon standards external to it, such as "human rights," in evaluating the nature of its own decrees, whether they be just or unjust, then the law is not, strictly speaking, morally neutral. It is non-neutral whenever it applies principles of a moral force to resolve disputes. Neither human rights, non-malfeasance, nor equality can be drawn upon in resolving conflicts. Moral neutrality, in short, removes the law from the burden of objective moral principles, rewarding us with a "government of men, not of law."

Second, moral neutrality either abolishes the notion of "equality," from the law, or scrubs it of any moral significance. As implied above, equality is a concept saturated with moral force. When Jefferson gave expression to the American mind in penning, “all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights,” he was expressing a fundamental axiom of moral significance, upon which the principles of self-governance would flow with a necessary force. From its initial baptism in that sacred Declaration of Independence, "equality," as a concept, has held preeminence in the American mind, motivating us to consistently abolish our cruder natures in the search of more fuller expressions of justice. Undoubtedly "equality," is a concept with moral force drawn upon by the courts in tailoring just decisions. Yet, moral neutrality, by definition, cannot admit moral concepts into its ecumenical construction of the law. So, "equality," either cannot be used in such a scheme, or it must be understood in a non-moral sense. It is perfect satire that in relying upon equality to motivate moral neutrality, advocates have unwittingly written "equality," out of the law. So much for, "the law should be morally neutral for equality's sake."

Speaking of satire, it is noteworthy that within my personal circle, many advocates of moral neutrality are religious, espousing a belief in eternal, unchanging moral truths. Their desire to be inclusive as to the public sphere, has caused them to exclude from that venue the most important aspect of themselves, viz., their religious standards. My suspicion is that these individuals harbor doubts when they say, "same-sex marriage is wrong." Silently conflicted, they give a "tip of the hat" to traditional marriage, while paving a way for same-sex marriage via moral neutrality.

Tragically, these individuals do a great disservice to both sides of the debate. Not only do they ask their religious communities to exclude that most import part of themselves from the public sphere, viz. their religious standards, they make it reputable to say, "I personally believe," transforming universal moral edicts into the stuff of subjective preference. To open advocates of same-sex marriage, they giveth with one hand and taketh away with the other. In one open palm they grant same-sex marriage while implying, "such an institution can only be acceptable in an environment cleansed of moral significance." In the other open palm, they grant the term "equality," which has now become an empty token, stripped of its original moral force. In giving so little, and in taking so much, moral neutralists also ask proponents of same-sex marriage to exclude an important aspect of themselves from the public sphere: viz., their moral dignity. At least the neutralists are fair. To borrow a phrase from Justice Scalia, these individuals would cheat "both sides, robbing the winners of an honest victory, and the losers of the peace that comes from a fair defeat." [3]

Both sides owe it to the other to be honest and firm in moral conviction. Only then can we subject the very best of ourselves and our ethics to open public dialogue in the hope of establishing just laws. Aside from being destructive, moral neutrality is unnecessary. If same-gender marriage is morally permissible, the law has compelling reasons to allow the practice. If, however, it is morally impermissible, the law cannot allow its practice and remain just. In short, moral neutrality unnecessarily injures both sides of this debate. We should shun it for what it is, intellectual blurred vision. For it is only by leaving neutral ground that we fully recognize both sides, providing the arena each deserves for the fair resolution of so important an issue.

____________________________________________________________________
[1] Many arguments herein rely on implicit premises. I believe such premises will be readily discerned and I have, for stylistic reasons, omitted them. Also, for sake of full disclosure, though this is not the focus of this post, the reader ought to know that the author is a defender of traditional marriage. My purposes in authoring this are to invite fellow interlocutors to leave "neutral ground," and to espouse the virtues of a bright contrast in this particular dialogue. It is my hope to instigate thoughtful and respectful discussion on such an important social issue.

[2] These issues are complex and simplification necessarily yields inaccuracy. Yet, it is important to note a fundamental difference in permitting immoral conduct, conduct which is malum in se, and failing to permit moral conduct. The former is never permissible, the latter, for countervailing reasons of sufficient force, is.

[3] Justice Scalia's dissenting opinion in United States v. Windsor

Lehrer, Paxson and the Insufficiency of Knowledge as “Undefeated Justified True Belief”

In their essay, “Knowledge: Undefeated Justified True Belief,” Keith Lehrer and Thomas D. Paxson undertake a revision of the traditional analysis of knowledge as justified true belief, by adding a defeasibility condition. It is their intent to strengthen the traditional analysis through this fourth clause as to avoid Gettier cases. Additionally, Lehrer and Paxson offer their analysis of the conditions of knowledge as an improvement over Roderick Chisholm’s analysis who imports a defeasibility condition from ethics. It is their complaint that Chisholm’s analysis is too strong. It allows misleading defeaters to override would be cases of knowledge. Consequently, they also undertake a revision of Chisholm’s defeasibility clause that avoids these errors. Yet, it is my contention that Lehrer’s and Paxson’s revision of Chisholm’s defeasibility conditions create a characterization of knowledge which is too weak.

In characterizing knowledge as “undefeated justified true belief”, Lehrer and Paxson intend a specific type of knowledge. They are careful to demarcate basic knowledge from nonbasic knowledge. In brevity they characterize basic knowledge as: “S has basic knowledge that h if and only if (i) h is true, (ii) S believes that h, (iii) S is completely justified in believing that h, and (iv) the satisfaction of condition (iii) does not depend on any evidence p justifying S in believing that h” (Lehrer and Paxson, 255) As such, basic knowledge is non-mediate knowledge. Lehrer and Paxson are both agnostic about the existence of this type of knowledge[1] although they indicate that if such knowledge exists, it is not defeasible and as such cannot be properly characterized as “undefeated justified true belief.” So, their revision of the traditional analysis of knowledge is solely aimed at nonbasic belief.

Initially, they look at a preliminary definition of nonbasic knowledge that is essentially co-extensive with the traditional definition of the same. Specifically, they define non-basic belief as, “(i) h is true, (ii) S believes that h, and (iii*) p  completely justifies S in believing that h” ( 226-27). They are quick to point out the insufficiency of this definition as it does not block Gettier cases. In indicating a direction towards which a solution may be found, they point to Roderick Chisholm’s suggestion that justifications are defeasible (Chisholm, 48).  Taking their que from Chisholm they propose the following analysis of nonbasic knowledge: “S has nonbasic knowledge that h if and only if (i) h is true, (ii) S believes that h, and (iii) there is some statement p that completely justifies S in believing that h and no other statement defeats this justification” (Lehrer and Paxson, 227).

This characterization of nonbasic knowledge requires an additional definition however, viz. a definition of “defeats”. Lehrer and Paxson “adopting a suggestion of Chisholm’s” attempt the following: “when p completely justifies S in believing that h this justification is defeated by q if and only if (i) q is true, and (ii) the conjunction of p and q does not completely justify S in believing that h.” As persuasive as this definition may be, Lehrer and Paxson are emphatic that it is far too strong. Specifically, they claim that Chisholm’s suggestion allows misleading defeaters (i.e. defeaters which are themselves defeated) to override cases of would be knowledge. To demonstrate this point, Lehrer and Paxson present the “Tom Grabit” thought experiment. In this experiment it is suggested that a person S, sees a man—a man whom he takes to be Tom Grabit—walk into a library and remove a book. S is completely justified in his belief since he knows John personally and saw the individual in the library that he has characterized as Tom Grabit, in optimal epistemic conditions. Yet, suppose that unknown to S, Tom Grabit’s mother, Mrs. Grabit, has claimed that John was thousands of miles away on the day in question. Instead, it was Tom’s identical and maniacal twin, John Grabit. Further suppose that Mrs. Grabit is a pathological liar, and that her supposed son, John, is nothing more than an aberration of her sickened mind. John does not exist. Owing to the fact that the true statement q, “Mrs. Grabit has claimed that . . .” when conjoined with p does not completely justified S in believing that h, and further owing to the fact that Chisholm’s characterization of “defeats” does not contain a clause to block misleading defeaters, it follows that on Chisholm’s account, S does not have knowledge. Clearly, this definition of “defeats” is far too stringent. A revision is needed.

In searching for a plausible revision of Chisholm’s proposal, Lehrer and Paxson look at another thought experiment, one in which justification deserves to be overridden. Specifically, they look at a Gettier case wherein a professor is completely justified in believing that a student, Mr. Nogot, owns a Ford and on this basis forms the inference that someone in my class owns a Ford. As it turns out Mr. Nogot does not own a Ford, but Mr. Havit does. So, the professor is completely justified in holding a true belief, viz., that someone in his class owns a Ford. However, that justification is overridden by the defeater that Mr. Nogot does not own a Ford, Mr. Havit does.

In looking at this additional thought experiment, Lehrer and Paxson note the differences between the two thought experiments given. Specifically, they claim that in the case of Tom Grabit, the defeater ought not count against my original justification whereas in the case of Mr. Nogot, the defeater ought to count against my original justification (229). Formulating this insight into an amended clause for the definition of “defeats” is awkward. For, as Lehrer and Paxson point out,

Why should one true statement but not the other be allowed to defeat my justification? The answer is that in one case my justification depends on my being completely justified in believing that Tom removed the book does not depend on my being completely justified in believing it to be false that Mrs. Grabit said Tom was not in the library and so forth. But my justification for believing that someone in my class owns a Ford does depend on my being completely justified in believing it to be false that Mr. Nogot does not own a Ford. Thus, a defeating statement must be one which, though true, is such that the subject is completely justified in believing it to be false. (229)

In other words, complete justification in the case of misleading defeaters does not depend upon believing the misleading defeater to be false. In the case wherein a person’s justification is overridden, in order for them to be completely justified in believing a true statement h, they must be completely justified in believing a true defeater to be false. If they did not, their original justification, in regards to believing proposition h to be true, would not be complete. Lehrer and Paxson are playing upon the intuition that defeaters are completely unexpected facts. The fact that Mr. Havit owns a Ford, whereas Mr. Nogot does not, is unexpected and as such cannot factor into the requirement for complete justification.

Their suggested amendment to Chisholms proposal is as follows: “when p completely justifies S in believing that h, this justification is defeated by q if and only if (i) q is true, (ii) S is completely justified in believing q to be false, and (iii) the conjunction of p and q does not completely justify S in believing that h” (230). This amendment, however, contains a certain weakness; a weakness which I will outline in its most basic of structures. Lehrer and Paxson ask us to consider a case in which S has nonbasic knowledge of h. Additionally, in this thought experiment, “there is some true statement which is completely irrelevant to this knowledge and which [S] happen[s] to be completely justified in believing to be false” (230). Conjoin this irrelevant proposition, call it r, which S is completely justified in believing to be false, with q, which S is not completely justified in believing to be false, and you get the result that S is completely justified in believing the entire conjunction, call it c, to be false—for S is justified in believing the entire conjunction to be false if S is completely justified in believing any of its members to be false. The conjunction c when conjoined with p will, according to Lehrer’s and Paxson’s definition of “defeats”, override S’s justification for h on the basis of p; for p when conjoined with the conjunction c will not fully justify S in believing that h.

To remedy this problem an additional clause must be amended to the already cumbersome definition of “defeats”:

if p completely justifies S in believing that h, then this justification is defeated by q if and only if (i) q is true, (ii) the conjunction of p and q does not completely justify S in believing that h, (iii) S is completely justified in believing q to be false, and (iv) if c is a logical consequence of q such that the conjunction of c and p does not completely justify S in believing that h, then S is completely justified in believing c to be false. (231)

With this amendment, irrelevant propositions which S is completely justified in believing to be false, are ruled out. Conjunction c can only count against S’s justification for h if c is a “logical consequence” of a proposed defeater q—i.e. relevant to q. Furthermore, if c is a logical consequence, and if the conjunction of c and p overrides S’s justification, then S is completely justified in believing c to be false. In restricting their analysis in this manner, Lehrer and Paxson are confident that their definition of “defeats” is complete.

However, it is clear that this cumbersome definition of “defeats” is too weak. It allows in certain cases as knowledge, even when they ought not be considered as such. Taking a cue from Lehrer and Paxson, suppose that S is completely justified in believing that Tom Grabit took a book from the library. Further suppose that there is some true proposition, call it q, which S is not completely justified in believing. For example, “Mrs. Grabit claims that Tom was thousands of miles away and that it was Tom’s identical and maniacal twin John Grabit who took the book.” Additionally, suppose that there is some true proposition, call it r, which is added to q creating a disjunction, call it c, that S is completely justified in believing to be false: “Tom was actually thousands of miles away on the day in question and a secret government agent by the name of Ethan Hunt had access to a mask which was a perfect replica of Tom’s face and Hunt had access to a voice modulator that made his voice sound exactly like Tom’s.” Importantly, each member of the disjunction c, i.e. ‘q or r’, when conjoined with p does not completely justify S in believing that h. Furthermore, since S is only completely justified in believing any true disjunction to be false, when S is completely justified in believing each of its members to be false, it follows that S is not completely justified in believing that the conjunction of the disjunction c and the proposition p to be false. The result? The disjunction in question is ruled a misleading defeater by Lehrer’s and Paxson’s definition of defeats and as such it cannot count against S’s justification. S is said to have knowledge. Yet, this result is clearly incorrect. The true proposition c, dealing with government agent Ethan Hunt, should override S’s justification for h.[2]

Remedying the weakness in the conditions supplied by Lehrer and Paxson will not be easy. What is required is an amended condition which adjudicates between disjunctive statements which are bonafide defeaters and those which are misleading. On first blush, the most attractive solution is the following: If c is a logical consequence of q such that the conjunction of c and p does not completely justify S in believing that h, then S is completely justified in believing c to be false only if S is completely justified in believing each of the members of c in being false. Yet, it is clearly the case that this proposed condition is ad hoc. As such it is an unacceptable amendment to the already cumbersome list of conditions of defeasibility.

An alternative route, which may provide promise, appeals to the desirable notion of simplicity. Specifically, Lehrer and Paxson could claim that complex statements (i.e. conjunctions, disjunctions, conditionals, etc.) must, if possible, be simplified via additional logical inferences which would decompose the statements before a conjunction is formed with p. In cases of complex conjunction, reduction would be produced simplification. In the current case of disjunction, simplification could be performed via disjunctive syllogism. Specifically, since S is completely justified in believing r (i.e. the proposition concerning agent Ethan Hunt) to be false, r can be used to infer q. With the disjunction decomposed down to q, a misleading defeater, r will override S’s justification. Stated more succinctly this condition is as follows: If c is a logical consequence of q such that the conjunction of c and p does not completely justify S in believing that h, then S is completely justified in believing c to be false, only if c (a complex statement) cannot bear further simplification via additional logical inferences which would decompose the statement.

While this approach is not susceptible to the charge of ad hoc—it does, after all, work well for conjunctions, conditionals and could, with additional language indicating that c be a logical consequence of q, replace Lehrer’s and Paxson’s current fourth condition—it still faces a number of problems. It is not clear than any statement, c, could survive in order to be conjoined with p. In the case of a conjunction, it is always the case that a conjunction can be simplified further. With a disjunction, if S is completely justified in believing any or all of the parts to be false, then the statement can be decomposed. In the end, the only statements which can survive are probably misleading defeaters. As such this proposed condition effectively blocks any complex statement from surviving except for disjunctions whose parts are all misleading defeaters.

This may not strike the reader as problematic until it is born in mind that some complex statements cannot be torn apart without loss to their content. For example, consider a slightly modified statement q: “Mrs. Grabit claimed that John Grabit, Tom’s twin brother, actually took the book and a week later it was determined that Mrs. Grabit has been suffering from schizophrenia and has completely imagined the former son who is non-existent.” Clearly, this statement is complex and can be broken apart via simplification. However, when broken apart, and individually conjoined to p, vital information is lost. For example, the statement, “a week later it was determined that Mrs. Grabit”, while in isolation, is not appropriately indexed to a particular event. The same goes for the statement “has completely imagined the former son who is non-existent son.” Without the larger context, the possibility remains that John Grabit is not an imagined son—some other former son being the imagined son—and that the statement was made after the onset of Mrs. Grabit’s schizophrenia. Clearly, certain complex statement, while susceptible to simplification, cannot bear decomposition without irrevocable loss to content. So, requiring of all complex statements that they bear further simplification via available logical inferences annihilates content from certain statements and as a result is inappropriate.  Lehrer and Paxson could attempt a modification to this current proposed condition which would attempt to save it from this type of difficulty. Specifically, they could identify complex statements that require unity for preservation of content and provide a language within the clause which eliminates them from the requirement of simplification. However, it is clear that any such attempt would be susceptible to the charge of ad hoc. Consequently, the current proposed condition must be scrapped.

Finally, at this point, it may seem appealing to simply amend a condition which effectively blocks all complex statements. Aside from being ad hoc, this approach would not even be desirable. There are plenty of imaginable statements which, like the modified statement q just given, require various conjunctions and disjunctions. Disbarring them out of hand could lead to the undesirable effect that S is ruled as having knowledge because a complex, bonafide defeater can’t get through. Clearly, this approach would be a step backwards and as such is not advisable.

Conclusion

In the end, it is clear that Lehrer’s and Paxson’s analysis of knowledge as “undefeated justified true belief” is insufficient. Furthermore, remedying the defects of their analysis is not easy. The unpredictable nature of defeaters affords to possibility of providing a highly complex logical inference which would show Lehrer’s and Paxson’s analysis to be either too strong or too weak. Additionally, it seems apparent from the foregoing analysis, that clauses attempting to remedy these problems will, in the end, be guilty of being ad hoc. So, it appears that Lehrer and Paxson will have tremendous difficulty in supporting this type of analysis and, in the opinion of this author, it seems apparent that this line of thought (i.e. characterizing nonbasic knowledge as “undefeated justified true belief”) will prove unfruitful in identifying the individually necessary and jointly sufficient conditions of nonbasic knowledge.

Works Cited

Chisholm, Roderick M. “The Ethics of Requirement.” American Philosophical Quarterly. Vol. 1, No. 2. April 1964. Web. July 2012. pp. 147-53.

Lehrer, Keith and Thomas Paxson, Jr. “Knowledge: Undefeated Justified True Belief.” The Journal of Philosophy. Vol. 66, No. 8. April 1969. Web. July 2012. pp. 225-237.

---

[1] In giving an analysis of basic knowledge—the existence of which they are agnostic towards—Lehrer and Paxson want to insure that “such proposals are not excluded by [their] analysis” (226).

[2] It is important to note, that this type of counter example, has also been offered by Marshall Swain, although in abstract form. See Marshall Swain, American Philosophical Quarterly, Vol. 11, No.1 (Jan., 1974), pp. 18-19.