A Version of Ontological Relativity

In his 1956 article Quantifiers and Propositional Attitudes, the great philosopher of science Willard Van Orman Quine presents a puzzle, a thought experiment to address a seeming paradox about beliefs that plagues the philosophy of language. Imagine a man, Ralph, who is vaguely acquainted with another man, a man wearing a brown hat, and has observed him under somewhat suspicious circumstances on more than one occasion. Ralph is also familiar with a man (named Bernard J Ortcutt in the example) he has seen at the beach, and Ralph understands this man to be an upstanding member of the community. Ralph believes the man in the brown hat to be a spy, but is certain the man he has seen at the beach is not a spy; he positively believes Ortcutt is not a spy, rather than simply not believing him to be a spy due to a lack of consideration of such a possibility. Unbeknownst to Ralph, Ortcutt and the man in the brown hat are, in fact, one and the same. Put another way, Ralph would conclude that they were one and the same were he to see Ortcutt put on the brown hat, or if Ortcutt were wearing the brown hat and then removed it in front of Ralph.

Now, presumably Ralph is holding contradictory beliefs about the man Ortcutt. He believes the man in the brown hat is a spy and that the man he has seen at the beach is not a spy, but they are one and the same individual from the perspective of whoever posits the thought experiment (in this case Quine). De re, ‘Bernard J Ortcutt’ and ‘the man in the brown hat’ are coreferential expressions designating the same individual. So if Ralph believes the man in the brown hat is a spy, he must also believe, de re, that Bernard J Ortcutt is a spy, but he does not.

A possible solution to the problem may lie in a version of ontological relativity, a notion Quine explores at length using different and more technical language.  Possible formulation may run something like this: An object is the way it is in virtue of the way in which it presents itself to a subject, or, stated differently, an object is a particular qualitative presentation to a subject (full stop). In this way, an object can never be an affair separate from the perspective of the instrument (subject) that detects it, an integral approach to which it is easy to notice parallels in such features of physical theories as special relativity or quantum wave function collapse. To contend otherwise is, arguably, to step into the realm of unfounded metaphysical speculation about substances, a move that tempts many philosophers but is problematic for those who hold to the strictures of empiricism.

There are some interesting implications for the philosophical study of objects that arise out of this conception thereof. One is that the constancy of objects across multiple perspectives becomes more a matter of convenience or convention than one of fact. For multiple subjects to designate the varying qualitative representations they observe using the expression ‘the same object’, they must regard the differences that obtain across their perspectives as being trivial to the identity of the object. However, there seems to be no non-arbitrary standard for how much phenomenal deviation may be admitted before subjects regard the qualitative presentations they observe as separate entities. The distinction  between trivial and nontrivial deviation is drawn by convenience, convention, tradition, or other patterns that may be informed accidentally, culturally, functionally, individually, politically, religiously, or otherwise. Which differences we consider trivial and which we consider non-trivial may merely be a matter of prejudice; there is, in principle, no way to define how much deviation may be admitted an object before it becomes a wholly separate object, and if different subjects view the “same” object from different perspectives, there is no absolute standard we can apply to guarantee they are, in fact, observing the “same” thing.

The way to attack Quine’s problem stated above with this version of ontological relativity is to highlight the fact that, given Ralph’s perspective, the man in question is presented to Ralph in two ways that exhibit nontrivial deviation, one from the other. Since we are reluctant to posit some kind of underlying “substance” to the separate appearances (it seems downright superstitious to do so), we are sympathetic to the notion that Ralph is the observer of two separate objects (the man in the brown hat and Bernard J Ortcutt) that are distinguished by nontrivial deviation from Ralph’s perspective and trivial deviation (meaning a difference in presentation that does not elicit a disbelief in the identity of the two appearances) from the perspective of he who posits the thought experiment. If the version of ontological relativity stated above holds, then Ralph’s belief that the man in the brown hat is a spy and his belief that Ortcutt is not a spy are reconcilable because he is, in fact, holding beliefs about separate objects, not contradictory beliefs about the same object.

The presupposition of the question ‘Does Ralph believe Ortcutt is a spy?’ is a false one that presumes an unjustified substance metaphysic we are unwilling to commit to. Ralph believes Ortcutt is not a spy but that the man in the brown hat is a spy, and does so without contradiction because, from his perspective, his beliefs refer to non-identical objects. Furthermore, we have no non-arbitrary standard by which we may privilege a different perspective over Ralph’s; any privileging of perspective must be gone about by reference to pragmatic or other concerns.

Objects are particular appearances/presentations that occur to subjects, and persist in virtue of the tolerance subjects hold for deviation from similar previous appearances. They are identical for multiple subjects only inasmuch as those subjects agree on a standard for distinguishing trivial and nontrivial deviation from similar appearances as presented themselves in the past and from the appearance they perceive in the present. You and I, each looking at a chair from a different angle, agree that it is the same chair as a referential convenience, despite the fact that it presents itself to us in different ways. We regard the difference between the appearances that occur to us as trivial in order to more conveniently communicate and get along in the world, but we may as well regard the appearances as nontrivial without a problem in principle.

Where I Stand (Subject to Flux)

Here is a collection of the directions toward which I currently lean in the context of various classic philosophical debates. Not terribly deep, I’ll admit, but worth noting for my sake so that I can draw comparisons later on.

• Analytic vs Continental: Continental
• Agnosticism / Atheism vs Theism: Agnosticism (with polytheist tendencies)
• Anti-Naturalism vs Naturalism: Naturalism
• Bundle Theory vs Substance Theory: Bundle Theory
• Determinism vs Libertarianism (Free Will): Hard Determinism / Fatalism (With an interest in non-causal events)
• Direct / Indirect Realism vs Phenomenalism: Phenomenalism
• Dualism vs Non-Dualism: Non-Dualism
• Empiricism vs Rationalism: Empiricism
• Ethical Cognitivism vs Ethical Non-Cognitivism: Ethical Non-Cognitivism
• Nominalism vs Realism / Universalism: Nominalism

I think it’s interesting, and perhaps informative, to note that the pattern here generally seems to fit with one of William James’ “personality types” associated with certain philosophical outlooks. One might describe this pattern of opinions as fairly skeptical/scientific in a number of ways; James describes those who hold to this pattern as wishing to put forth a view of themselves as practical, tough-minded thinkers. I can see the draw of this mask, but I also have a liking for somewhat high, delicate ways of presenting these ideas, particularly the metaphysical ones, at least when such presentation is possible. I have no idea if James is right, but his is an interesting insight nonetheless.

In any case, I have much to learn and there is a long way to go both in the Ancient Philosophy class and the Metaphysics seminar I am currently enrolled in. Then there are always two more years at Kenyon, graduate school (if that’s in the cards), independent reading, life itself. I could end up a Platonist, for all I know! I hope not, though.

Argument Against Essential Qualities

I have had doubts about the reality or meaningfulness of essential qualities for some time now. Yesterday evening, while in my Metaphysics seminar, I thought of an interesting argument against essential qualities. I am sure there are many flaws with the argument, but it still proves somewhat interesting to ponder.

Let’s begin by defining some terms.  I define an essence as all that which distinguishes a thing from all other things.  I define an accidental as a property of a thing that, when changed, does not alter the essence of the thing itself.  An essential quality is a property of an essence — a fact about, or aspect of, an essence.

There is one other description of essential qualities I find helpful.  Essential qualities must distinguish a thing from at least one other thing.  This seems to be a rather non-controversial assertion to make.

We are left then with two possible definitions of what constitutes an essential quality.  The first is that an essential quality is a property that distinguishes a thing from at least one other thing.  The second is that an essential quality is a property that distinguishes a thing from every other thing.  Any other number of things between one and everything seems arbitrary, so a thus third option will be discarded as such.

The first option for what constitutes an essential quality can most likely be discarded, since it would, for example, imply that a certain length or color of hair should be counted as an “essential quality” of a person.  We have a sense that, if there are essential qualities, they should not be so malleable as to render someone a completely different person when such a feature as their hair changes.  So we reject the first definition — id est, that an essential quality is a property that distinguishes a thing from at least one other thing — by means of a kind of reductio ad absurdum; it doesn’t lead directly to a contradiction, but does lead to a result that is likely to be rejected by advocates of the idea of essential qualities.

Thus, we are left with the second option: An essential quality is a property that distinguishes a thing from all other things.  The only difference between an essence and an essential quality, then, is that an essence might be described as a composite of essential qualities, whereas each essential quality refers to only a single property of the thing.

Now consider Adam in the Garden of Eden.  He is the only human in the world; thus, being human is an essential quality of Adam, a thing that distinguishes him from all other things.  Now, however, God puts Adam to sleep, removes his rib, and fashions Eve from it.  No longer is Adam the only human in existence; there is another thing, Eve, which shares the quality of being human.  Adam’s being human, therefore, can no longer be considered an essential quality of his being, by our previously established definition.

This problem leaves us in the awkward situation of having to admit that Adam’s essence — defined as all that distinguishes a thing from all other things — has changed merely by virtue of the introduction of Eve, or that being human was never actually an essential quality of Adam and that he could just as easily have been a baboon while being essentially “the same”.

The first option is absurd, since if a thing’s essence changes the thing no longer exists; it is no longer the same thing.  The second option, though, seems equally absurd.  How could it be that Adam would be “essentially” the same no matter whether he is a human or a baboon?  I doubt any proponent of essential qualities would claim that being human is not a part of a human being’s “essence”.

One way to address this problem would be to claim that Adam has an immaterial soul that could just as easily have been connected to a baboon’s body as to a human’s body, but the problem there is that there is scant evidence for such a thing, at least not through empirical observation, and it could hardly be deduced from known principles unless one presupposes the meaningfulness or reality of essential qualities.  This approach would seem to be begging the question, however.

There are, undoubtedly, many points to this argument that may be assaulted.  I would be interested in any definition of an essential quality that is different from the one I proposed earlier.  Perhaps my definition is necessary but insufficient. It seems one would be hard-pressed to come up with a definition of “essential quality” that does not involve it being a property that somehow distinguishes a thing from at least one other thing, but there could certainly be more to a reasonable definition that I am missing.