This is the second in a series of posts on skepticism (and Goose Island beers.) The other posts can be found here.
For those who cannot view the video above, it goes something like this:
A baseball bat flies through the air toward a flower vase. A bowling ball rolls toward a wine glass. A brick is hurled at a light bulb. A hammer flips end over end in the direction of an egg. And then: destruction. The bat splinters to pieces. The bowling ball bursts. The brick crumbles. The hammer head shatters.
These images are a bit jarring because they are inconsistent with our expectations. We expect the vase, the glass, the light bulb, and the egg to shatter. But why?
According to David Hume, our expectations related to cause and effect are the product of experience, not reason. If we had no experience with eggs and hammers, or wine glasses and bowling balls, we could not have reasoned out what we expect to happen when they collide. Even if we had no experience with bowling balls, but we were to analogize to some object more familiar, we would still only be anticipating the result based on experience rather than pure reason. “The mind can never possibly find the effect in the supposed cause, by the most accurate scrutiny and examination. For the effect is totally different from the cause, and consequently can never be discovered in it.”
Because effects cannot be reasoned from causes, we can never discover the first cause. As we work our way backward from effect to supposed cause to the supposed cause of that cause, we quickly find that we have inadequate experience to make any sort of guess about what the ultimate causes of our world are. By means of experimentation and observation, we may gain the required experience to make ever greater connections, but “as to the causes of these general causes, we should in vain attempt their discovery; nor shall we ever be able to satisfy ourselves, by any particular explication of them. These ultimate springs and principles are totally shut up from human curiosity and enquiry. Elasticity, gravity, cohesion of parts, communication of motion by impulse; these are probably the ultimate causes and principles which we shall ever discover in nature; and we may esteem ourselves sufficiently happy if, by accurate enquiry and reasoning, we can trace up the particular phenomena to, or near to, these general principles.”
Beer of the week: 312 Urban Wheat – The name 312 is derived from the telephone area code for Chicago. As the label says, it is a wheat ale that is hazy straw colored and has a light lemon aroma. I think that the citrus in the smell is very light, but it is present. 312 is a fine beer, particularly as a change of pace stylistically. It is not as fruity or spiced as a hefeweizen, but is more like a standard pale ale with a bit of wheat.
Readings of the week: Sceptical Doubts concerning the Operations of the Understanding, Part I by David Hume – This section from An Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding presents the problem of inductive reasoning. Because we learn only by experience, and our experience is wholly inadequate to cover all of the infinite possibilities of our world, it is probably best to withhold judgment.
Question for the week: The sun has risen every day for my entire life. And, so far as I can tell, it rose every recorded day before that. So we feel certain that the sun will rise tomorrow. Is this application of inductive reasoning really questionable?
A former professor of mine (in a subject other than philosophy) once complained that people were asking the wrong question when they asked why instead of to what end things happened. I submitted that why is equivocal, and to what end is but one of the reasonable interpretations of why. He ignored me and went on with his tirade.
Obviously, I was not breaking new ground. In Book II of Aristotle’s Physics, four different answers to “why questions” are enumerated. In an attempt to make Aristotle a bit easier to relate to, I will apply these four causes to the beer of the week, Genesse Ice.
First, the material cause of something is the physical matter that it is composed of. The material cause Genesse Ice is water, cheap grain, (not much) hops, and yeast.
Second, the formal cause of something is the essence or archetype of the thing. This cause is certainly the most difficult to grasp, but I think that we can say that this beer’s formal cause is the form “beer” or perhaps the more specific form “ice beer.” (Ice beer is style of beer that has elevated alcohol levels because after it is brewed, some of the water is removed in the form of ice crystals.)
Third, the efficient cause of a thing is the source of its coming to be or its maker. The efficient cause of this beer is the Genesee Brewing Company.
Finally (duh!), the final cause is the end for the sake of which a thing is; the goal. The final cause of Genesee Ice is to get drunk.
Of course, the term “drunk” is equivocal…
Beer of the week: Genesee Ice – As I mentioned before, Genesse makes some of my all-time favorite cheap beers. This does not fit into that category. Genesee Ice smells like drinking games, and not in a good way. It is the aroma of beer spilled on the flip-cup table. It is the essence of used beer pong cups. The smell is enough to put one right off. The taste, unfortunately, is worse yet. There is an unpleasant sweetness followed by a distinctly metallic aftertaste. This beer is surely meant to be consumed from a brown paper bag or from a plastic cup. And either way, it should elicit the existential question: why?
Reading of the week: Physics by Aristotle, Book II, Part 3 – “Knowledge” Aristotle tells us, “is the object of our inquiry, and men do not think they know a thing till they have grasped the ‘why’.” The problem is that every thing and every action has more than one cause.
Question of the week: Which of your causes do you think defines you most?
As the days get sunnier and warmer, I am reminded of a classic urban legend:
A woman went shopping for groceries. After she finished at the grocery store, she placed her purchases on the back seat of her car in the parking lot. She had a few more errands to run, so she left the groceries in the car while she went about her business. When she returned and entered the car, which had been warmed considerably by the midday sun, she heard a loud BANG and suffered a blow to the back of the head. She reached back to feel the point of impact and found find a gooey mass. Naturally she started to panic. With both hands she attempted to hold her brains in place and screamed for help. When other shoppers came to see what was wrong, she said that she had been shot in the head and that her brains were exposed. Upon closer examination, her brains were safely in place, but she was desperately pressing warm biscuit dough into her hair. Apparently, the heat in the car had caused a tube of biscuit dough to pop, splattering its contents on the woman. One of the “rescuers” told her, “Ma’am, you will be alright. You’ve been shot by the Pillsbury Doughboy.”
This story is a rather amusing little farce, but it says something important about sensory perception and the disconnect between our personal experience and external stimuli. The lady in the story felt warm dough on her head, but her senses did not convey to her mind the reality of the situation. The sense of touch, even when functioning properly, never totally captures the nature of the thing touched.
Descartes used a similar, although far less amusing story to make this very point. A soldier returning from the field feels a sharp pain in his side and thinks that he has suffered a wound that he did not notice in the heat of battle. Upon closer inspection, however, a strap on his armor simply became twisted, causing a buckle to dig into his side. If senses accurately and fully conveyed the nature of stimuli, then the soldier would have known immediately that the pain in his side was caused by the buckle.
To be fair, our senses are pretty trustworthy most of the time and we combine all sorts of additional context and sensory input to determine what is really going on. We are constantly and effortlessly making judgments based on our perceptions and that frees up our limited brainpower to work on more complicated questions. Questions such as what beer to drink.
Beer of the week: Fin du Monde – French-Canadian brewery Unibroue makes some very well regarded beers. Fin du Monde is probably their best known brew, a Belgian-style tripel. It smells of yeast and cider. The body is remarkably smooth and the taste is outstanding. There are hints of pepper and the considerable alcohol content (9%) makes itself known at the end. The aftertaste is similar to that of a dry cider, encouraging sip after sip.
Reading of the week: Le Monde by Rene Descarts – Although Descartes apparently intended to write a complete philosophy of the world, his work was never completed. Instead the title Le Monde (“The World”) was attached after his death to the first part of that project, Treatise on Light.
Question of the week: Humans are extremely visual, and our trust in sight as a reliable source of information is evident in the idiom “seeing is believing.” But we have all experienced optical illusions, so we know that sight cannot always be trusted. Descartes writes that “Of all our senses, touch is the one considered least deceptive and the most secure.” Is he right? Which sense most reliably presents our mind with the reality of the outside world?