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4 of Berkeley's
Argument for Immaterialism
These "set
rules or methods" we call "Laws of Nature; and
these we learn by experience, which teaches us
that such and such ideas are attended with such
and such other ideas, in the ordinary course of
things" (ibid.). From this Berkeley concludes
that God, the "Author of Nature", is the ultimate
source of ideas and their connections.
From this in
turn it follows that although everything that
exists is mind-dependent, it is not dependent
on particular or finite minds, but has an objective
source and structure, namely, the eternal, ubiquitous
and law-like perceiving of an infinite mind. This
is the sense in which Berkeley is a realist; the
world exists independently of the thought and
experience of finite minds (2D166-7) ‹ which explains
what he means by claiming to defend common sense,
for common sense holds that grass is green and
the sky is blue whether or not any of us happen
to be looking at either, whereas Locke and the
corpuscularians held otherwise‹grass has powers
to make us see green, but it is not itself green;
indeed, on the Lockean view the world is colourless,
odourless and silent until perceived, when it
produces in the perceiver visual, olfactory and
auditory experiences. But for Berkeley the world
is just as we perceive it to be even when we are
not perceiving it, because it is always and everywhere
perceived by the infinite mind of a deity.
The deity perceives
the universe by thinking it, that is, causing
it to exist by conceiving it. In a letter to the
American Dr Samuel Johnson Berkeley remarks that
his view differs only verbally from the theological
doctrine that God maintains the universe in existence
by an act of continual creation. So the ideas
which constitute the world are caused by the deity,
and appear in our consciousnesses as the effects
of his causal activity: this is the metaphysical
way (level 3) of describing what, in ordinary
terminology, we describe as seeing trees, tasting
ice-cream, and so forth. The latter way of describing
the facts is not incorrect; Berkeley's argument
is that the ordinary and the metaphysical ways
of describing reality are alternative descriptions
of the same thing.
A significant
feature of this account is its view of causality.
Locke had argued that the empirical basis for
our concept of causality comes from our own felt
powers as agents, able to initiate and intervene
in trains of events in the world. This sense of
our own efficacy we "project" onto the world to
explain chains of events in it, imputing to events
we describe as "causes" an agency or power on
analogy with our own. For Berkeley the projective
move is empirically ungrounded. We indeed have
experience of causal agency as spirits, which
are the only active things we know. But although
it is a convenience to impute causal agency to
things (ideas) in our ordinary way of talking,
they are inert, and apparent causal connections
between them are ultimately owed to the regular,
consistent, lawlike causal activity of God.
The Argument's Resilience
to Objections
It is obvious
that Berkeley's theory rests upon a vital and
very debatable assumption, borrowed unquestioningly
from Locke who equally unquestioningly borrowed
it from the Cartesians, namely, that the place
to begin philosophical enquiry is among the private
data of individual consciousness, that is, among
the ideas constituting an individual's experience.
If one accepts this Cartesian super-premiss (a
large "if") the early steps of Berkeley's argument
appears persuasive, as may be seen by considering
a proposed objection to it, namely, that it commits
the elementary error of identifying sensible qualities
and sensory ideas; for ‹ says the objection ‹
there is a large difference between "the table
is brown" and "the table looks brown to me", because
the truth-conditions of the two statements differ.
The table could be brown without it seeming so
to me, and vice versa; so Berkeley's argument
collapses.
But this argument
begs the question against Berkeley by assuming
that claims about what qualities an object possesses
are independent of claims about how they can be
known to possess them; which amounts to the claim
that there are observation-independent facts about
the qualities of objects which can be stated without
any reference to experience of them. But this
claim is exactly what Berkeley rejects, on the
grounds that any characterisation of a sensible
quality has to make essential reference to how
it appears to some actual or possible perceiver.
How, he asks, does one explain redness, smoothness
and other sensible qualities independently of
how they appear? So the objection fails by premissing
a seems-is distinction which is precisely what
Berkeley opposes on the grounds that it leads
to scepticism.
To deny that
there is a seems-is distinction is just another
way of asserting that sensible objects (things
in the world) are collections of sensible qualities,
and hence of ideas. So Berkeley takes the contrast
he wishes to resist to be one between (a) sensible
objects, which as collections of sensible qualities
are what is immediately perceived, and (b) objects
existing independently of perception but causing
it. This is not the same contrast as (c) sense
data in the sense of uninterpreted contents of
sensory states, and (a) sensible objects. It is
important to note this because for Berkeley what
is immediately present in experience is the sensible
object, not some mediating representation (or
collection of representations) different from
the object. We do not, he says, infer from colour
patches and other sensory data to the existence,
in a world beyond them, of books and trees; what
we see (and touch etc.) are, immediately, books
and trees.
This however
prompts another objection, this time that Berkeley
is having things both ways: he says that we immediately
perceive such familiar objects of sense-experience
as books and trees, while at the same time saying
that what we immediately perceive are colours
and textures. To see what is involved here, consider
an argument advanced in more recent philosophy.
This says that books and trees are interpretations
of, or inferences from, the sensory data of experience,
and that in speaking of books rather than colour-patches
we are going beyond what talk of colour patches
strictly licenses. This is because we take physical
objects to exist independently of particular perceivings
of them, to be publicly available to more than
one perceiver at a time, and so on ‹ none of which
is true of the sensory ideas from which they are
inferred. So we have to keep (a) and (c) strictly
separate.
Berkeley can
be defended against this objection by appealing
to the distinction of levels. At level 1 we immediately
perceive colours and textures, while at level
2 we immediately perceive books and trees. The
latter consist wholly of the former, and it is
only if one disregards the distinction of levels
that one might fall into the mistake of thinking
that when one perceives a smooth red book, one
perceives redness and smoothness and a book, as
if the book were something additional to the sensible
qualities constituting it. Just such a view is
forced by the materialist view, in which something
inaccessible to sensory awareness constitutes
the underlying causal origin of the sensible qualities
we perceive.
Some critics
object that having thus argued that all perception
is immediate, Berkeley promptly proceeds to admit
a species of mediate perception by inference or
"suggestion". The passage cited is the one where
Berkeley says, "when I hear a coach drive along
the streets, immediately I perceive only the sound;
but from the experience I have had that such a
sound is connected with a coach, I am said to
hear the coach" (1D204). This might count as a
case of mediate perception if Berkeley did not
immediately add, "It is nevertheless evident,
that in truth and strictness, nothing can be heard
but sound: and the coach is not then properly
perceived by sense, but suggested from experience".
The same applies to our practice of saying elliptically
that one sees that the poker is hot; again, one
does not see heat, one sees that something is
hot, that is, one infers on the basis of experience
that when something looks like that, it will feel
a certain way if you touch it. These are not cases
of mediate perception, but of experience-based
inference, to which Berkeley gives the name 'suggestion":
the ideas of one sense suggest the ideas of another.
The foregoing
shows that as long as certain of Berkeley's premisses
are accepted, and as long as discussion of the
main plank of his views (the notion of God and
his metaphysical activity) is deferred, his views
are resilient to objection. If we reject the Cartesian
super-premiss ‹ that the place to start is the
data of individual experience ‹ his views are
not so resilient.
These remarks
touch upon one set of objections to Berkeley's
views. Others, as remarked, more threatening to
his position, concern its underpinning, namely,
the infinite mind to which a central metaphysical
role is allotted. This is discussed below.
Matter and Materialism
The concept
of matter is redundant, Berkeley's argument purports
to demonstrate, because everything required to
explain the world and experience of it is available
in recognising that minds and ideas are all there
can be. But Berkeley adds to this argument-by-exclusion
a set of positive anti-materialist considerations.
An important
argument for materialism is that use of a concept
of matter explains much in science. Berkeley summarises
the view thus: "there have been a great many things
explained by matter and motion: take away these,
and you destroy the whole corpuscular philosophy,
and undermine those mechanical principles which
have been applied with such success to account
for the phenomena. In short, whatever advances
have been made ... in the study of nature, do
all proceed on the supposition that corporeal
substance or matter doth really exist" (P50).
Berkeley's reply is that science's explanatory
power and practical utility neither entail the
truth of, nor depend upon, the materialist hypothesis,
for these can equally if not better (because more
economically) be explained in instrumentalist
terms. Instrumentalism is the view that scientific
theories are tools, and as such are not candidates
for assessment as true or false, but rather as
more or less useful. One does not ask whether
a gardening utensil such as a spade is true, but
whether it does its intended job effectively ‹
and not merely effectively, but, as required by
Ockham's Razor, as simply and economically as
possible.
Berkeley expressed
his early version of instrumentalism as a "doctrine
of signs", in which the regularity and order among
our ideas reflect the steady will of God, which
is so reliable that we can represent the connections
thus observed as laws. He writes, "the steady,
consistent methods of Nature, may not unfitly
be styled the language of its Author, whereby
he ... directs us how to act for the convenience
and felicity of life" (P109). Science is thus
a convenient summary, for sublunary purposes,
of what at the metaphysical level of explanation
would be described in terms of the activity of
infinite spirit.
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