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3 of Scepticism
and Justification
Prescinding from the details
of Kant's endeavour, it is arguable that the strategy
has much to recommend it, and it is has been worked
out in more detail both by the present writer
and P. F. Strawson. Strawson was criticised by
Stroud and others for having smuggled a verification
principle into his version of the Kantian transcendental
argument; my defence of the strategy consists
in describing the foundational beliefs identified
by such argument as undischargeable assumptions
of our conceptual scheme. If that manoeuvre is
right, it shifts the sceptic's position from a
challenge about justification to a challenge over
the question whether the conceptual scheme is
the only one possible for if it is not,
then ultimate security for the practice of making
knowledge claims is still lacking since the claims
in question are only justified parochially to
the given scheme. The task then is to show that
it does indeed make sense to talk only of one
conceptual scheme (on Davidson's grounds
perhaps, indeed, that 'the very idea of a conceptual
scheme' is itself empty if there can only be one).
And this is to say that arguing against scepticism
thus, and finally, takes the form of arguing against
relativism.
IX
So the claim being made
here is this: properly anatomised, scepticism
is a challenge, in a given area of discourse,
to justify the epistemic grounds we assume or
employ in that discourse. The motivations (the
sceptical considerations adduced) identify where
the positive task of justification is to be carried
out. To shift attention to relativism as the last
resort of the sceptic, it is necessary to make
out more fully the claim that invoking facts about
our frameworks of discourse (the conceptual scheme
presupposed to given types of epistemic activities)
settles the sceptical challenge at the level at
which it has been traditionally pitched.
The intuition from which
to begin is that one cannot know or believe just
one thing. A commonplace belief about some object
or sate of affairs in the world comes as a component
of a network of beliefs between which there are
complex relations of support and dependency. Questions
about these relations, especially about those
which provide justification for particular knowledge
claims, are among the most important in epistemology.
An idea worth examining, therefore, is that the
network of beliefs constitutes an implicit inference-licensing
scheme, in which specifiable general beliefs play
something like a foundational role and in which
a particular pattern of inference (I shall suggest
that it is deductive inference on something like
the covering-law model) is dominant. Each of the
points here requires examination.
The expression 'foundational
role' has just occurred. A characteristic shortcoming
of foundationalist theories of any kind is their
failure to yield satisfactory explanations of
the relation between what they respectively identify
as basis and superstructure in the epistemic edifice.
Across a range of proposals there is little persuasive
detail about the logical mechanisms by which these
different candidates for the role of conceptual
support play their part. A promising model of
this relationship is suggested by the concept
of a 'covering law', the idea being that an assertion
about some particular matter is legitimate when
its being inferable from a description of its
grounds is a result of that inference's being
licensed by our conceptual commitments for that
region of interest, in the form of one or more
covering generalisations. More fully, the idea
is that certain assumptions serve as inference-licensers
which stand to particular inferences either in
the direct relation of a major premise, or as
setting the terms in which particular arguments
are permitted to count as sound in the standard
logical sense. This intuition seems promising;
the task is to make it out more fully.
The strategy is to argue
that finitary constraints on our capacities as
investigators prompt the need for a conceptual
framework which enables us to mitigate the restrictions
they impose. The two tasks confronting us at the
outset are (a) to specify the constitution of
the framework, and (b) to describe the relations
between the framework and particular beliefs deployed
in our ordinary epistemic practice. Because of
the enormous practical difficulties of carrying
out these tasks, an appropriate starting-point
is to explore some possibilities for constructing
a model which conservatively satisfies (a) and
(b) together. The model is conservative because
it attempts to specify the relationships at issue
in (b) in standard logical terms, and because
the commitments at issue in (a) are thought of,
as uncontroversially as possible, in this familiar
way: as the belief that there are causally-interactive
particulars (and events involving them) occupying
space and, whether or not they are objects of
thought or experience while doing so, persisting
through stretches of time. Because of the causal
character of the relations between the elements
of this ontology, we can be regarded as assuming
also that the physical realm is nomological in
character, a fact which allows us to place a high
degree of confidence in the regularities we take
it to display. This picture is straightforwardly
realist, the key to its being so lying in our
commitment to the independent existence and character
of the realm over part of which we take our thought
and experience to range. The rest we take to be
concealed from view, its constituents inaccessible
to us either in fact or in principle, depending
upon the manner in which they transcend our investigatory
capacities.
At this level of generality
the description is neutral with respect to finer-grained
metaphysical issues, in particular the questions
whether there are other things beside concrete
spatio-temporal items, and whether some or all
of these latter should be thought of as events
rather than particulars. On the question of causal
laws, however, something more definite is implied
by the suggestions to follow.
Certain commonplaces about
our limitations as individual epistemic agents,
together with certain other commonplaces about
our powers in the same respect, offer to explain
the role of the first order realist assumptions
just nominated as constituting the (model) framework;
as follows.
X
It is an all
too familiar fact that the epistemic capacities
of humans are finite. We suffer the 'finitary
predicament'; our empirical resources for acquiring
and testing information about the world are limited,
and so are our powers of inference, analysis,
recognition and memory.
A standard
way of dramatising this predicament is to reflect
on the circumstances of a lifelong solitary and
in particular the question of what he might construct
for himself in the way of a world-view with nothing
available to him beyond his native cognitive equipment.
There are several such models in the recent literature
of epistemology, including influential suggestions
by Russell, Strawson and Ayer. But one must guard
against the failure to distinguish between different
notions here: that of the egocentric predicament
(the epistemically solipsistic predicament) which
is what a true solitary would suffer, and the
finitary predicament, which is suffered even by
members of a community who share a language and
pool their epistemic resources. If the notion
of an egocentric predicament makes sense, it does
so as a species of finitary predicament, for although
what is central to its being effectively a form
of solipsism is the individual's isolation, the
problem which this renders insurmountable is the
limited character of the individual's native cognitive
resources, that is, his epistemic finitude. But
there is good reason to think that talk of an
egocentric predicament fails to make sense. This
is because it turns on the idea of a wholly subjective
perspective, in which the subject is supposed
to recognise his perspective as his own without
having any way of locating it in a setting of
other perspectives, since these ex hypothesi do
not exist. And this is controversial: for it would
seem that the notion of a sense of self, or at
least of a sustained centre of experience which
in some sense recognises that experience as its
own, cannot be rendered intelligible independently
of systematic relations to other such perspectives
- other selves - and this implies that to be a
self is necessarily to be a member of a community
of such things. Among other things, membership
of such a community seems to be a necessary condition
for acquisition of the scheme, best thought of
as embodied in language as the base theory its
semantics requires, and by reference to which
such experience is enjoyed.
But recognising
that the notion of an egocentric predicament is
incoherent does not diminish the demands made
on our epistemology by the fact of epistemic finitude.
Here what is crucial is that even as members of
a co-operative we suffer sharp finitary constraints
on our epistemic capacities, and the dramatisation
of that predicament which the egocentric case
affords serves only to identify a gap in need
of filling: the gap between what any individual
might be imagined capable of constructing by way
of a world-view on his own account, and the contents
of the conceptual scheme we in fact possess.
Recognising
both the existence and character of the gap is
what, as noted, forces the abandonment of the
Cartesian perspective in epistemology. According
to that perspective our privileged access to the
data of our own consciousnesses, and their incorrigibility,
is what is supposed in large part to underwrite
our confidence in what they convey. The sceptical
challenges based on what opens the gap,
and renders it unbridgeable; namely, the considerations
about perceptual relativities, psychological contingencies,
test cases like deception by a evil demon, and
the mediate and inferential nature of perception
itself are responsible for this; they are
in effect fatal to Cartesian epistemology.
But there are
still lessons to be learned from examining the
gap which Cartesian epistemologists tried in so
many ingenious ways to bridge or close. The lessons
flow from trying to answer the question posed
above, and which in fuller form runs: if we take
seriously the fact that the cognitive capacities
of individuals are limited, what follows for an
understanding of the global theories we formulate
and employ concerning the objects of those capacities?
That is: how, given their epistemic limitations,
do individuals come to have and use a shared theory
of the world with putatively inclusive ambitions,
namely, our common-sense conceptual scheme as
adjusted and supplemented by science? What status
can we suppose that scheme to have, given its
radical underdetermination by the evidence which
subscribers to it can acquire in the course of
activities bearing upon the verification or falsification
of the beliefs constituting it?
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