DOUBTS ABOUT PROGRESS AND THE FUTURE OF PHILOSOPHY
In the first chapter of Utilitarianism, John Stuart Mill reflects on “the little progress” that philosophers have made about the criterion of right and wrong. He writes that although the debate has been going on for more than two thousand years, philosophers are still locked in a “vigorous warfare” about the foundations of morality.
The first thing we should note is that this is a question for sociologists not philosophers. It asks for empirical data. But empirical data cannot be sought until we know what we are looking for. The search for an answer to the questions "What is progress in philosophy?" and “Why isn’t there more progress in philosophy?” depends on how those who search for an answer understand the meaning of the words “philosophy” and “progress.”
This is a clarifying task for philosophers that will guide relevant empirical data.
The word “philosophy” applies to many scholarly ventures, for example, phenomenology, feminist philosophy, cross-cultural philosophy, philosophies of life, and analytic philosophy. It is not clear what these ventures have in common except that they all claim that what they do is philosophy.
If we are to answer the question about progress we need to settle on a single clear definition of the word “philosophy.” Without casting aspersions on the other kinds, I will use the the following definition.
“Critical reflection on the justification of basic human beliefs and analysis of basic concepts in terms of which such beliefs are expressed.”
This is the definition of analytic (or Anglocentric) philosophy. And the question about progress in philosophy has been narrowed to “Why isn’t there more progress in analytic philosophy?”
The word “progress” connotes “a forward or onward movement (as to an objective or to a goal), a gradual betterment.” (Merriam-Webster).
Where there is progress, there is an implied standard by which a forward movement or gradual betterment is measured. For example, if I tell a colleague that I am “making progress” in finishing the first draft of a book or a blog post, I mean that I am moving forward to these goals.
Standards are established by authority, custom, or general consent as a model or point of reference for the measure of quantity, weight, extent, value, or quality. For example, the standard for progress in an author's task of writing a book is probably established by custom. The measure of progress is her evaluation of the quality of what she has written, the number of chapters that are finished and the time it has taken to finish. (“After one year of writing I have only three chapters to go. That is good progress for me.”)
A standard for measuring progress can be used to compare one historical stage of progress with a later stage, e.g. “More progress has been made in 20th century philosophy than in the 18th century.” Progress can also be used to compare one field of inquiry with another, e.g. “There has been much more progress in the field of physics than in the field of philosophy.”
A standard for measuring progress in philosophy would have markers that say ‘no progress’ ‘some progress’ and ‘a lot of progress.’
But what is the objective or goal that shows that philosophy is advancing from one marker to another? What constitutes ‘betterment’ in philosophy?
2. Standards for Measuring Progress
2.1 The Vigorous War Standard
John Stuart Mill, mentioned earlier, did not propose a standard for determining progress, although he implied that a standard should have something to do with the “vigorous war” between philosophers about the solution to the philosophical problem of the criterion of and wrong. If progress on the answer to this problem is to be measured, then the implication is that this is to be done by measuring not only what criterion they are supporting, but also the forcefulness and energy of the debaters. If there is “little progress” about the solution it is because the war (debate) about the “right” criterion is as vigorous in Mill’s time as it was two thousand years earlier. If the amount of vigor is the measurement tool, Mill does not make it clear how vigor is to be measured, nor does he explain how it is relevant.
2.2 The Philosophy Expert Standard
In Plato’s dialogue Crito, the character Socrates says that if we need to know what is just or unjust we should “not follow or fear the opinion of the majority,” but we should only respect and fear the opinion of the one man – if there is one man who understands such things.” (48a) Socrates uses an analogy to prove his point. If we don’t know how to do physical training (for example, training for an event in the Olympics), we should not ask random people for advice. Instead, we should ask one or more of those who are experts in such matters.
It is the same with questions about what is just or unjust. If there is only one person who is an expert at solving moral problems, then we should seek the advice of that person. If there are several people who are experts at this, then we should seek their advice.
Assuming that there are two or more experts who can solve philosophical problems, progress is measured by the percentage of experts who agree on the same solution. Progress can be declared if the number who agree is greater than the number who disagree, and if the balance has increased over time. For example, suppose that seventy percent of all philosophy experts agree and thirty percent disagree that compatibilism solves the freewill vs determinism debate. The balance (difference) in this survey is forty percent. Let us also suppose that the balance in a survey of experts taken years before was twenty percent (sixty percent of all experts agreed and forty percent disagreed). This is a sign of progress because there is a higher percentage of philosophers who agree than disagree and this percentage is greater than the percentage polled at an earlier time.
Why should progress in philosophy be measured by the expert standard? Who are the experts? Using Socrates’ analogy of the physical trainer, a philosophy expert is one who is trained in philosophy and, like the physical trainer, has the ability to train others in how to apply the philosophical method to traditional philosophical questions.
Those who are trained in philosophy could include not only those who have Ph.D. degrees and teach philosophy at the university level, but also those who teach philosophy in community colleges, those who have bachelor or master’s degrees in philosophy, and those who have no philosophy degree and have never taught philosophy. The latter group of non-academic philosophers includes the acknowledged great philosophers John Stuart Mill, Jean-Jacques Rousseau and David Hume.
My point is that there might be a million people on earth who could qualify as philosophy experts. Most of them have never been asked in controlled surveys whether they do or do not support the many theories that have been proposed as solutions to traditional philosophical problems.
2.3 The Collective Convergence Standard
In a 2015 journal article, Professor David Chalmers proposed a standard for determining progress in philosophy that measures the amount of “collective convergence to the truth on big questions of philosophy.”[1] The word “collective” means a number of persons considered as one group or whole. “Convergence” refers to two or more things, ideas, etc. becoming similar or coming together. In the present context, Chalmers wants to find out how many people in the group of professional philosophers come together and support (agree) or do not support (disagree) on the same answers to the big questions of philosophy.
This requires data. Chalmers found it in a 2009 survey of the opinions of a subset of university philosophy professors. [2] The poll shows a large amount of disagreement between philosophers, dashing the hopes of Mill and other philosophers that the two-thousand-year war will someday come to an end.
“The survey was sent to the members of 99 leading departments of philosophy (largely specializing in analytic/Anglocentric philosophy) in North America, Europe and Australia.” (Chalmers, p. 8). 47% of recipients returned the survey. Instead of asking a broad question about progress in philosophy, they were asked to answer thirty questions about specific philosophical problems. Chalmers refers to them as the “big questions of philosophy.”
“Questions were posed as a choice between two, three or four options. Respondents could indicate that they ‘accept’ or ‘lean’ toward one option, or give a variety of other answers.” (Id.)
Here are a few of the answers and results:
§ A priori knowledge: yes 71%, no 18%, other 11%.
§ Analytic/synthetic distinction: yes 65%, no 27%, other 8%
§ External world: non-skeptical realism 82%, skepticism 5%, idealism 4%, other 9%.
§ Free will: compatibilism 59%, libertarianism 14%, no free will 12%, other 15%.
§ God: atheism 73%, theism 15%,other 13%.
§ Normative ethics: deontology 26%, consequentialism 24%, virtue ethics 18%, other 32%.
Chalmers concludes from the results that “the degree of disagreement here is striking ….Only one view (non-skeptical realism about the external world) attracts over 80% support. Three views (a priori knowledge, atheism, scientific realism) attract over 70% support, with significant dissent, and three more views attract over 60% support. On the other 23 questions, the leading view has less than 60% support.” (p. 9)
Chalmers uses the PhilPapers data in the first premise of the following argument[3]:
(1) There has not been large collective convergence on the big questions in philosophy.
(2) If there has not been large collective convergence on the big questions of philosophy, there has not been large collective convergence to the truth on the big questions of philosophy.
(3) There has not been large collective convergence to the truth on the big questions of philosophy.
The empirical data from the survey reporting that there has not been large collective convergence on the big questions of philosophy is sufficient to show that there has not been collective convergence to the truth on the big questions.
For example, if there is not a large collective convergence supporting the consequentialist theories as the foundation of normative ethics, then there is no large convergence on the truth of consequentialism.
Returning to John Stuart Mill’s remark about the little progress that has been made about the foundations of morality, the PhilPapers poll would endorse Mill’s assessment. The poll question about normative ethics (above) shows there is still a “vigorous warfare” being waged between deontologists, consequentialists and virtue ethics theorists about who among them has discovered the foundation of morality. Although Mill does not provide any evidence except his private observations, he would probably agree with Chalmer’s use of a convergence standard for measuring progress.
There are two objections to the Chalmers’ standard and its application.
First, a low percentage of agreement on a theory or idea does not imply that the theory or idea is not true. It implies only that a low percentage of surveyed philosophers believe that the theory or idea is not true.
Second, there are no comparable convergence numbers showing progress in the hard sciences (physics, chemistry, biology) that have been taken recently or at regular intervals in the past. Chalmers predicts (without evidence) that “if we had such surveys and measures, we would find much less convergence on answers to the big questions suggested by past surveys of philosophers than we would find for corresponding answers in other fields.”[4]
3. Why isn’t there More Progress in Philosophy?
This is the 64-dollar question. Why is there less agreement about the true answers to the big philosophical questions than the (alleged) amount of agreement about the true answers to the big scientific questions?
Chalmers’ answer to the question is that relative to the method of philosophy, the power of the method of science is stronger than the power of philosophical method to compel agreement on answers to the big questions. The greater the power, the greater the amount of agreement.
Here is a six-step breakdown of Chalmers’ argument.
(1) The method of philosophy is the method of argument.
(2) The method of argument is reasoning.
(3) The method of science is the observational/experimental method.
[(4) The power of a method is measured by its strength to compel agreement on an answer to a big questions.][5]
(5) The power of the observational/experimental method to compel agreement is relatively stronger than the power of reasoning.
(6) Therefore, the method of science to compel agreement on an answer to a big science questions is stronger than the power of the method of philosophy to compel agreement on an answer to big philosophy questions.
The conclusion (6) supposedly explains why there is much less collective convergence on the answer to the big questions in philosophy than the amount of collective convergence on answers to the big questions in science.
But the argument is circular. This can be seen when we ask for evidence to support premise (5). Assuming that the suppressed premise (4) is true, how does Chalmers know that the power of the observational/experimental method of science to compel agreement is relatively stronger than the power of reasoning? What is the evidence for this claim? We already have the answer to this question in the PhilPapers survey. The proof that the method of science is stronger is that there is a larger collective convergence to the big questions in science than the amount of collective convergence to the big questions of philosophy.
This completes the circle. The relatively weak survey numbers for philosophy are the numbers we want explained. Chalmers “power of method” theory does not explain why there is more collective convergence in one method than the other. It only repeats the facts about the relative amounts of collective convergences in philosophy compared to the amounts of collective convergence in science.
4. Philosophy is Uninformative About the World
There are other standards that might be used to determine progress in philosophy. For example, progress could be measured by the extent to which philosophical theories and ideas have a positive effect on the way that people understand and live in the world. Surveys of educated people could be created in which they would answer questions like, “Would it matter to you if the philosophical theory that people do not have free will is true? Would this change how you live your life?” If more people over time answered affirmatively, progress in philosophy could be declared.
Progress in philosophy could also be measured by the extent to which philosophy is popular. Popularity would be measured by the number of participants and the frequency of thought and discussion of philosophical problems by non-professionals at home, in study groups, philosophy clubs or on social media.
If surveys of this are conducted at regular intervals, then we might be able to someday say, “There is more progress in philosophy because there are more people who enjoy discussing philosophic problems now than in the past.”
How many educated people believe that discoveries in science have had a greater positive effect on their life than discoveries in philosophy? How many non-professional people attend and enjoy group discussions of philosophical problems compared to the number who attend and enjoy discussions about science issues? Without surveys we have no way to answer these questions.
But let’s suppose that compared to the scientific advances over the last five hundred years, most educated people do not know whether philosophy has made advances comparable to those in science. If asked whether they know of any discoveries in philosophy, most would probably would not answer.
Why is this? In his introduction to The Revolution in Philosophy Gilbert Ryle wrote that where the empirical statements of scientists are informative about the world, philosophical statements are “uninformative about the world…” Scientists report matters of fact. They make and report observations of events happening in the world or run laboratory experiments to test theories about future events. Philosophers report no matters of fact. They do not observe events occurring in the world and report to others what they have seen or heard. They do not devise and test theories about future events. Observation of events happening in the world and experimentation to test theories about what will happen in the world are not part of the philosophical method.
The remaining part of the Ryle quote says, “…and yet [philosophical statements] are able, in some important way, to be clarificatory of those propositions that are informative about the world, reporting no matters of fact yet correcting our mishandlings of reported matters of fact."
Ryle gives no examples of such mishandlings[6], but I suspect he would allow that there is much more that philosophy can do than clean-up work for mistaken interpretations of scientific findings.
The important contribution that philosophers make has been repeated in the definition of philosophy quoted at the beginning of this essay: “Analysis of basic concepts in terms of which our most important beliefs are expressed.” Admittedly, this task (conceptual analysis) is uninformative about the world but it is informative about the big questions of philosophy and how these questions are being answered. Philosophers cannot answer questions about when the next earthquake will occur, whether there is life on Mars or how to avoid infectious disease, but they can attempt to answer questions about the meaning of concepts used in “our most important beliefs,” as these beliefs are expressed in the big questions of philosophy.
The difference between what philosophers and scientists can and cannot do is relevant. If the standard for progress is changed from collective convergence to public interest. It helps us answer the question “Why isn’t there more progress in philosophy?” Using the public interst standard, data would be collected showing the number of educated people who are interested in getting scientific information about the world compared to the number of educated people interested in getting philosophic information about the meaning of basic concepts used in justifying what they regard as important beliefs.
Once again, no such data is known to exist. But in this day and age, I would guess that information about the world provided by scientists would rank first over information about the meaning of basic concepts provided by philosophers.
5. The Fly and the Fly bottle
The 20th century philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein had a quite different evaluation of philosophy and its problems. He approached philosophic problems like a doctor approaches the complaints of a hypochondriac. Philosophic problems exist only in the minds of the philosophers who created them and they should be treated as such. Hence, the “real” job of the philosopher is therapeutic. Wittgenstein writes that “a philosophical problem has the form: ‘I don’t know my way about’” (Philosophical Investigations 123), and the real job of the philosopher is “to show the fly the way out of the fly bottle.” (PI 309)."
Suppose that the fly is St. Anselm who failed to find the meaning of “time” (9.1.3), or the philosopher who believes that there is a problem about the existence of free will. The fly bottle is the network of concepts that entraps philosophers and makes them think that there is a problem when in fact there is none.
The therapeutic work that philosophers can do is to convince the time and freewill debaters to stop banging their heads against the walls of the fly bottle. They can do this by disentangling concepts in a way that shows there is no problem at all. When this is done, the confused philosopher, like the fly, can fly out of the bottle. “And this simply means that the philosophical problems should completely disappear” (PI, 133).
And that, my philosophy friends, is the end of philosophy as our professors understood it. If Wittgenstein is right, then the only task of the philosopher is to make traditional philosophical problems disappear.
Is Wittgenstein right? It has been almost 70 years since he predicted the disappearance of philosophy and yet philosophy in books, journals, conferences and the classroom is still going strong. It would seem that today’s philosophers and students should have no more to fear about the demise of philosophy than fear itself.
[1] Chalmers, David C. p. 5.
[2] The survey was conducted by PhilPapers, a comprehensive directory of online academic philosophy. https://philpapers.org/help/about.html
[3] Id., p. 7.
[4] I agree with Chalmers’ prediction and have said as much in chapter 7 at section 7.2.1 (Solved Scientific Problems)
[5] The brackets signify a suppressed premise.
[6] While riding in a taxi in Athens (Greece) with my wife and son many years ago, we heard a news report on the taxi radio that was spoken in fast and anxious sounding Greek. But the only words we understood were “San Francisco” and “Los Angeles.” We tried to imagine what alarming event could be happening in these two cities at the same time. If there is a riot in San Francisco the same riot with the same rioting people could not also be in Los Angeles at the same time. Therefore, I surmised, the alarming event could not be a riot. It is a logical impossibility for one and the same riot to be in two places at once. But as a California native my second thought was “earthquake,” of which I had experienced several in my lifetime. One and the same earthquake can cause tremblors in two or more locations at the same time. We called the American Embassy later in the day and found out that our guess was correct. We immediately called our relatives in Los Angeles to find out if they were okay. By clarifying a reported matter of fact (about earthquakes), information was found that we would otherwise not have been aware.
