The Realist Vernacular

            What follows is neither proof nor argument, nor philosophy of any sort, but rather an exercise in sociolinguistics.  [And as such, a sort of sociological preparation for the thread announced here.]  The point is simply to exhibit a common way of talking among contemporary mathematicians, as well as some physicists and philosophers -- an easy style of conversation  that you would never imagine exists, if most of your acquaintance with science and its philosophy is mediated by figures like Daniel Dennett and Richard Dawkins.

            To cite evidence of theistic talk from the learned men of history, from antiquity through the nineteenth century, would be pointless, since the mode was well-nigh universal, at all times and in all realms.  Yet in our present day, most of the habitués of faculty clubs and coffee-houses  have managed to satisfy themselves, that all those who ever lived, in history, from Pythagorus  to the Einstein of “Der Herrgott würfelt nicht”, were, without exception,  imbeciles, and simply didn’t know what they were talking about, when they talked that way.  At last mankind has seen the light (or the darkness, rather);  we speak only of what is sensible and sniffable, like Donald Trump.  And who should be so rash as to cite the testimony of a mere Plato, or Galileo, or Cantor, or Gödel, against the brass certitude of so eminent a scholar as Sir Christopher Hitchens, Ph.D?

            Therefore I shall limit myself to recent citations.  A few examples from among many, snatched at random from  recent reading.

            Again, note:   I am not implying anything about the theology, per se, of the people here quoted, let alone suggesting that they never miss Mass.  Indeed a Dennett -- a roaring atheist -- can still indulge in such turns of phrases as "we can take advantage of the God's-eye perspective we have temporarily adopted" (the Devil can quote Scripture to his purpose).   So far, this is just corpus linguistics;  but more anon.

(1) Theistic language

 (a) mathematics

Arthur Koestler, The Act of Creation (1964):

Karl Friedrich Gauss described how he finally proved a theorem on which he had worked unsuccessfully for four years:  “At last, two days ago, I succeeded, not by dint of painful effort, but so to speak  by the grace of God.”

Thomas Tymoczko, ed., New Directions in the Philosophy of Mathematics (1986, rev. 1998), p. 219:

In one of the most cited discussions in his much-quoted book, Kuhn [1962] talks of scientific decision in terms of “conversion experience” and “faith”.

Richard de Millo et al., “Social Processes and Proofs”, in Thomas Tymoczko, ed., New Directions in the Philosophy of Mathematics (1986, rev. 1998), p. 271:

The classical view does not require that an ordinary proof be accompanied by its formal counterpart; on the contrary, there are mathematically sound reasons for allowing the gods to formalize most of our arguments.

Similar language is often used in formulating the contemporary concept of a “hypertask”.  Cf. likewise

Shaughan Lavine, Understanding the Infinite (1994), p. 55:

            For Cantor … “countable” meant countable by God.

and similarly

Michael Potter, Set Theory and its Philosophy (2004), p. 250, re the plausibility of the Axiom of Choice:

… generalizing to the uncountable case  by appeal to the idea than an ideal being could achieve the choices required of him (or perhaps Him).

If we adopt some particular postulate system for abstract set theory, and agree that the criterion for accepting an intuitive set-theoretic argument  is that its analogue can be justified by the postuates, then we are  in efect  agreeing that the set of all intuitive sets  endowed with the membership relation  is a configuration satisfying the postulates.  We can have at best  intuitive reasons for believing this.  It is really an act of faith.

-- Andrew Gleason,  Fundamentals of Abstract Analysis (1966), p. 153

Gregory Chaitin, “Gödel’s Theorem and Information”, in Thomas Tymoczko, ed., New Directions in the Philosophy of Mathematics (1986, rev. 1998), p. 306:

If God tells one how many different programs of size less than N halt, this can be expressed as an N-bit base-two numeral, and from it  one could eventually deduce  which of these programs half  and which do not.  An alternative divine revelation would be knowing that program of size less than N which takes longest to halt.

Robin Wilson, Four Colors Suffice (2002), p. 214, recounting a mathematician’s reaction to the immensely long and repetitive, unsurveyable, computer-aided proof of the Four Color Conjecture:

God wouldn’t let the theorem be proved by a method as terrible as that!

 (b) physics

Hermann Weyl, Symmetry (1952):

Contingency is an essential feature of the world.   Clarke  in his controversy with Leibniz  admitted the latter’s principle of sufficient reason, but added that the sufficient reason often lies in the mere will of God.  I think, here Leibniz the rationalist is definitely wrong, and Clarke [the theist] on the right track.  But it would have been more sincere to deny the principle of sufficient reason altogether, instead of making God responsible for all that is unreason in the world.

Abdus Salam (1988):

God created just two dimensions -- one of space and one of time. … At a later epoch, there was a phase transition to four dimensions, plus six internal ones.

Stephen Hawking, A Brief History of Time (1988; 2^nd edn. 1996) p. 91, alludes to Roger Penrose’s paraphrase of cosmic censorship:  “God abhors a naked singularity.”   The (jocularly) theistic language is especially odd and noteworthy, since the epigram here being echoed -- “Nature abhors a vacuum” (Latin:  horror vacui) does not use it.

Stephen Hawking, A Brief History of Time (1988; 2^nd edn. 1996) p. 126f.:

These laws [of physics] may have originally been decreed by God, but it appears that he has since left the universe to evolve according to them  and does not now intervene…

That, then (for that author) leaves only the explanation of the settings of the parameters for initial conditions:

One possible answer is to say that God chose the initial configuration of the universe for reasons that we cannot hope to understand.  This would certainly have been within the power of an omnipotent being, but if he had started it off in such an incomprehensible way, why did he choose to let it evolve according to laws that we could understand?

Simon Blackburn, Think (1999), p. 69, in a section called “A Scientific Model”:

Classical physics identifies the temperature of a gas with the mean kinetic energies of the molecules that compose it.  So in making hot gases, God has only one thing to fix…

Blackburn is a philosopher, not a physicist; as commonly in that community, he is writing in an “as if” mode;  but still, the choice of words is noteworthy.

John Gribbin & Martin Rees, quoted in Edward Harrison, Cosmology (2^nd edn. 2000), p. 489:  Absent the strong anthropic principle,

If there is a unique ‘theory of everything’, then … we would have to accept it as genuinely coincidental, or even providential, that the constants determined by high-energy physics happen to lie in the narrowly restricted range that allows complexity and consciousness to evolve…

(“Providential”… a lovely word…)

Paul Davies, The Goldilocks Enigma (2006), p. 3:

It appeared to Hoyle as if a superintellect had been ‘monkeying’ with the laws of physics. … Like the porridge in the tale of Goldilocks … the universe seems to be ‘just right’ for life.

Paul Davies, The Goldilocks Enigma (2006), p. 236:

Most theoretical physicists are Platonists in the way they conceptualize the laws of physics as precise mathematical relationships  possessing a real, independent existence…

Shing-Tung Yau, The Shape of Inner Space (2010), p. 101:

As Robert Greene puts it, “you’re trying to find the one metric given you by God.”

Michael Atiyah re string theory, quoted in Shing-Tung Yau, The Shape of Inner Space (2010), p. 292:

They’re onto something, obviously.  Whether that something is what God’s created for the universe  remains to be seen.  But if He didn’t do it for the universe, it must have been for something.

This statement is reminiscent of the Principle of Plenitude; and recalls Einstein’s celebrated quip, anent the possible failure of an experiment to confirm his prediction: "Da täte mir halt der liebe Gott leid; die Theorie stimmt doch."

Less seriously, but using a religious metaphor: J. L. Synge, Relativity:  The General Theory (1960), p.  ix:

It is to support Minkowski’s way of looking at relativity that I find myself pursuing the hard path of a missionary.

More serious is the following.  The author is discussing the vexed question of the Collapse of the Wave-Packet upon observation (related to:  If a tree falls in a forest, and no-one’s around, does it make a sound?  -- here rewritten in Oxford terms, replacing the forest by a quad), and quotes the old limerick:

Dear Sir, Your astonishment’s odd;

I am always about in the Quad.

And that’s why the tree

Will continue to be,

Since observed by Yours faithfully, God.

He comments (J. C. Polkinghorne, The Quantum World (1984), p. 67):

Divine reduction of wavepackets would be an overkill, since it would operate everywhere and always, forcing the electron each time to go through a definite slit.  The point about measurement is that it only occurs spasmodically.

Note the predicted empirical consequences of God in the Quad!   Then, between square brackets, the author adds:

This observation is in accord with the classic theological understanding of creation, which sees God as the ground and support of all that is (in our terms, the guarantor of the Schrödinger equation), but not as an object among objects (no collapser of wavepackets).

This aside is in fact central:  by the time he wrote this, Polkinghorne had quit his endowed Chair in physics to become a village vicar.

(c ) analytical philosophy

Michael Dummett, Truth and other enigmas (1978), p. 15, discussing character as (it may be, untested) hidden propensities:

If B still wishes to maintain the necessity of ‘Either Jones was brave or he was not’, he will have to old  either that there must be some fact of the sort to which we usually appeal … or else that there is some fact of an extraordinary kind, perhaps known only to God.

Dummett’s use of the term, to characterise the viewpoint of a hypothetical philosopher inclined to Realism, is so to speak opaque, not representing his own view, which is rather (id, p. 150) that “only a philosophically quite naïve person would adopt  realist view of statements about character”.  Only such, or Saint Peter.

(2) Realist language

Arthur Koestler, The Act of Creation (1964):

Gauss is reported to have said: “I have had my solutions for a long time, but I do not yet know how I am to arrive at them.”

Klaus Jänich,  Topology (1980; Eng. trans. 1984), p. 35:

When topological groups are found in nature [emphasis added], they  are generally not given abstractly as a set G with a composition law and a topology, but concretely, as a group of transformations…

This is not really anymore outrageously realist than saying “When a set of six objects is found in nature…”   (say, the familiar six-pack; although the one at my side is already down to five, and it’s not even noon).

And again, p. 157:

Covering spaces very often “occur in nature”:  that is, one comes across them spontaneously, while studying entirely different problems.

Shaughan Lavine, Understanding the Infinite (1994), p. 160: 

We seem to have nontrivial intuitions concerning the infinite, going far beyond simple things like Extensionality, Pairing, or even Power Set.

Shing-Tung Yau, The Shape of Inner Space (2010), p. ix:

The strength of this discipline [i.e., mathematics] lies not simply in its ability to explain physical reality…, because to a mathematician, mathematics is reality.

If all you know of math is elementary arithmetic, this statement may lack punch.   But in the upper reaches of set theory, topology and so on, it embraces a world of miracles and of monsters.

~ ~ ~

It is important to note, that this is the way Realists talk en famille.  The talk is casual, often not literal, yet is meant in some serious sense.  It is not to be compared with the tawdry pseudo-theological, pseudo-mystical sort of gibberish that popular authors (and even some serious ones, yielding no doubt to the Satanic promptings of the marketing department) use to gin up their pap for the masses -- like “God particle” for the freaking Higgs boson.

It may be objected (it will be objected;  it has been objected) that such expressions, in a modern mouth, are a mere façon de parler.  To which we reply (with Whorf), that a façon de parler tends to cohere with a façon de penser. 

Nor is it a refutation of the point here made, to adduce agnostic pseudepigrapha from any of the gentlemen here quoted.   We are each a walking contradiction;  we contain multitudes.   C.S. Lewis himself  confessed that he tended to be a cranky agnostic at dawn, but a theist later, when he’d had tea and was more himself.

Once again:   The point here is not to assert that so-and-so among our near contemporaries  is or is not a believer.  Indeed it will strengthen my eventual case, if many of them are not in fact believers, yet find themselves attracted, or guided, or driven, to Realist or Theistic language, whether for convenience, or (in the case of Cantor, Gödel, and Einstein) something deeper.

So, a very modest initial move, a sort of pawn to king’s four.  (Only later -- much later -- shall we see if we can capture Satan’s Queen.)   So far we hold simply, that occasional use of Realist or Theist language, in serious discourse, is not  in and of itself  diagnostic for Trisomy 21.

Consilient Connections

In our essay on Edward Wilson’s book Consilience (1998), we distinguished, perhaps somewhat clumsily, between strong consilience (putatively Whewellian, based upon shared patterns in distant phenomena) and weak consilience (a carryall term for the various senses in which Wilson seems to use the word, ranging from reductionistic explanation to mere compatibility).  Stepping back from the particularities of that particular book, we’ll hone these categories further.

(A)  vertical consilience

This is the standard hierarchy model, the various scientific disciplines all stacked pancake-fashion. 

The basic divisions of biology are, from top to bottom, as follows:  evolutionary biology, ecology, organismic biology, cellular biology, molecular biology, and biochemistry.

Edward O. Wilson, Consilience (1998), p. 83

The descent could be continued:  … chemistry, physics…, with various possible sub-levels in each of these: thus,  the behavior of atomic nuclei explained by the nature of nucleons, and these in turn  by quarks.

Indeed, the professor goes on (both upwards and downwards):

The central idea of the consilience world-view  is that all tangible phenomena, from the birth of stars to the workings of social institutions, are based on material processes that are ultimately reducible … to the laws of physics.

-- Edward O. Wilson, Consilience (1998), p. 266

Reduction consists in explaining phenomena on level n+1  via those on level n -- thus, the valence properties of atoms, in chemistry, as a function of the electron-shell structure, in atomic physics.  The ‘lower-down’ the discipline, the more fundamental (I guess ecologists didn’t get to vote).
(Not in substance, but in psycho-aesthatics, that dreamy vision is reminiscent -- horizontally -- of its zoological analogue, the Great Chain of Being.)

An example:

Daniel Dennett champions a sort of biological Principle of Plenitude (reminiscent of the Landscape in recent physics), and opines:

It does put a difficult burden of proof on anyone who thinks that there are laws of biology  over and above the laws of mathematics and physics.

-- Daniel Dennett, Darwin’s Dangerous Idea (1995), p. 122

In support, he adduces Dawkins’ assertion that “Dollo’s Law” of evolution  follows straightforwardly from the laws of probability, as does the Hardy-Weinberg law (which neither Hardy nor Weinberg  ever meant to deny).

Note:  Just on whom the burden of proof falls, in scientific squabbles, tends to be a subjective matter.  One might imagine that, in this place, biologists can justifiably go about their business as they have always done, discovering such regularities and structures and functions and they can, without being put to the extraordinary test, obviously quite outside their attainments, not merely of dissolving such laws by deriving them from physics (obviously the writ of the physicist), but of somehow proving that no physicist, present or future, could ever do so.

(B) horizontal consilience

This shall refer to beguiling isomorphisms or unexpected shared formal features across disciplines, with neither being privileged:  a harmony rather than an explicandum and an explicans.

Since (A) is the usual stuff of science, we’ll say little or nothing more about this,  other than to remark that it is more the mark of writing about science, than of the day-to-day practice of scientists, who largely operate within their own stratum.

Now (B) is less familiar, and more in keeping with the imagistic resonances of the very word consilience.  It is in the realm of ontological spooky-action-at-a-distance, of holism, of synthesis, synesthesia, synchronicity, and syn- everthing-else.

What follows is less an essay than an in-progress post-it board,  with purported examples of this intriguing category as I come across them.

~     ~     ~

Cross-disciplinary isomorphisms are fun to hunt for, harder to find.

Muller’s discovery … was that genes are artificially mutable.  It was like Ernest Rutherford’s discovery … that atomic elements were transmutable.

--Matt Ridley, Genome (1999).

These are not really much alike at all.  Rutherford’s discovery was that -- contrary to the alchemical program -- atomic elements were spontaneously mutable.   O.t.o.h., genes as well are prone to spontaneous mutation.   The mechanisms are of course quite different;  the resonance is primarily sociological -- though valuable for  all that.

Similarly:

Gödel’s proof that there are bound to be undecidable statements in arithmetic  has its companion piece in physics  in Heisenberg’s indeterminacy principle.

W.V.O. Quine, “On What There Is”, reprinted in From a Logical Point of View (1953, 1961)

This is the sort of epiphany that is likely to strike the inquiring layman (or late-night bull sessions of sophomores), though the exquisitely understated metaphor of 'companion piece' is quite characteristic of Quine rather than of heavy-breathing system-builders like Wilson or Dennett.   I doubt there is any real formal connection;  the harmony (and perhaps this is all that Quine meant) lies in public perception, which has also latched onto a kindred misunderstanding of Einstein,  to come up with the executive-summary:  “It’s all so indeterminate, so uncertain, so relative, so undecidable.”

I was about to point out one considerable difference:  that, unlike the case of Gödelian incompleteness,  which is a restriction on what we can show, Heisenberg Uncertainty -- sometimes phrased as a restriction on what we can know -- is no mere epistemological limitation:  it can actually create particles.  (… inhales deeply;  holds it in his lungs; light-bulb!)  But wait !-- Incompleteness too can play a creative role.  It is a limitation on what we can show (in a given formal system), but not on what we can know (via some meta-maneuver).  There are propositions neither provable nor disprovable  which, if they could be shown to be unprovable,  would have to be … true.  (Because, if false, there would be a finite counter-example.)  . . .    (Farrrrrr  out .... )

The problem is, virtually all of us are laymen outside of one field, and often enough  narrow specialists in that one, so that valid horizontal consilience is going to be difficult to establish.

~     ~     ~

Our evolutionist authors distinguish between modular and holistic heredity:

All systems of unlimited heredity will turn out to be modular.  This statement is true  not only of the genetic system based on DNA, but also of the only other natural system of unlimited heredity known to us, human language.

J. Maynard Smith & E. Szathmáry, The Origins of Life (1999), p. 9

Bingo!  Cf. the historical connection between philologic and biologic evolutionary taxonomy. 

Cf. indeed Darwin, The Descent of Man (1871):  "The formation of different languages and of distinct species, and the proofs that both have been developed through a gradual process, are curiously the same.”

~     ~     ~

Lee Smolin:  Universes undergo a sort of mitosis, and evolve via ‘cosmological natural selection’.

Angelology is epistemologically conservative by comparison with that sort of thing -- but hey, have a ball.

~     ~     ~

Richard Dawkins:  Memes are like genes.

Not, note, built up of genes, like chromosomes.  Rather:  both entities  lead somewhat parallel lives, each in its own realm.  Quite like the Men and the Jinn.

~     ~     ~

Not only across disciplines, but even within a discipline,  does the notion of horizontal consilience make sense.

One reason for discussing events as different as the origin of the genetic code, of sex, and of language  in a single book, is that we think that there are similarities between the different transitions, so that understanding one of them  may shed light on the others.

J. Maynard Smith & E. Szathmáry, The Origins of Life (1999), p. 19

In mathematics, intra-disciplinary cross-similarities between specialties  are so rich as to characterize the modern state of the field.  Accordingly, the matter is discussed separately here:

http://worldofdrjustice.blogspot.com/2011/10/consilence-in-mathematics.html

 

 

Consilience

The unity of science consists  alone  in its method, not in its material.

-- Karl Pearson

The unity of science is a pipe-dream.

-- Ian Hacking

The learnèd world  for long has yearned,  that all knowledge might be uniformly regimented beneath the broad skirts of science -- typically led by whatever was in fashion at the time.  For a while, it was Newton.  Thus,

Hume prided himself on doing for psychology  what Newton had done for physics.  He offers a (vacuous) theory of the association of ideas  as the counterpart to the theory of gravitation.

-- Anthony Kenny, The Oxford Illustrated History of Western Philosophy (1994).

In the 1920s, Otto Neurath headed up the influential Unified Science movement, which set the intellectual tone for a whole generation.

Subsequently, various technical developments have proved alluring to architects of airborne palaces -- computers in particular. As, “Hey, maybe the mind is just a Turing machine !  Tape goes to the left, goes to the right, scribble, erase,  and, bingo!,  you get Hamlet and the Credo.”  This eructation was dignified with the title of “machine-state functionalism”.

In our day, in the English-speaking world, the lodestone is Darwin.

In a lengthy work  unfortunately titled Darwin’s Dangerous Idea (1995), Daniel Dennett effectively claims skeleton-key status for Darwinism, comparing it to “universal acid:  it eats through just about every traditional concept”, including in cosmology and psychology.  A clear-headed corrective to his claims, from the ever-trenchant H. Allen Orr, may be read here: http://bostonreview.net/BR21.3/Orr.html.

~     ~     ~

And then Edward O. Wilson weighs in, with his much-talked-about book Consilience: The Unity of Knowledge (1998).   Wilson is the man to beat, when it comes to ants;  has he likewise managed to outline a Theory of Everything?   The dust jacket is certain that he has:  “nothing less than a daring challenge to the prevailing world-view ... a grand, coherent conception,  encompassing the sciences, the arts, ethics and religion” burbles Gerald Holton on the back cover, and Jared Diamond proclaims the eminent ant-man “one of the twentieth century’s greatest thinkers”.

Well, a man is not on his oath, in jacket copy.   Let us see whether the accomplishment matches the hype.

Wilson borrows the word from an 1840 work by William Whewell, which states:

The consilience of inductions takes place when an induction, obtained from one class of facts, coincides with an induction, obtained from another different class.  This consilience is a test of the truth of the theory in which it occurs.

Wilson comments: “Consilience is the key to unification.  I prefer this word over “coherence” because its rarity has preserved its precision.”  (p.8)

That is a common and valid reason for philosophical neologism (since the word consilience had become obsolete, Wilson effectively re-introduced it).  The word is not, however, used with much precision in this book -- at least, it does not truly preserve whatever meaning Whewell may have had in mind (his own wording is none too precise.)

Consilience -- It is a lovely word, rhyming with brilliance and resilience.  Wilson trots it out from time to time, rather like those “station identification” messages required by the FCC;  but over the whole course of the book, it seems to do no actual work.   As he himself suggests, it is roughly a synonym of coherence -- which would seem to be setting the bar pretty low.    

As Wiki  puts it:  “Wilson's concept is a much broader notion of consilience than that of Whewell, who was merely pointing out that generalizations invented to account for one set of phenomena often account for others as well.”  But broader is a nice way of saying diluted, weakened. --  In terms of ambition, however, Wilson’s consilience is a stronger program, in that it aims to rope in the humanities as well; but it can hope to do this only at the expense of diluting the proposed commonality.

For sheer emptiness, it touches bottom on page 117:

But surely, skeptics will say, that is impossible.  Scientific fact and art can never be translated  one into the other.  Such a response is indeed the conventional wisdom.  But I believe it is wrong.  The crucial link exists:  The common property of science and art  is the transmission of information.

Omigosh,  we didn’t we think of that before ?!?  All-kina stuffs uses information!! -- Or rather, “the information”, in the unidiomatic jargon being peddled by James Gleick’s recent (and similarly overambitious) book. -- In point of fact, there is more commonality between a sermon and a sex pheromone, since both, in addition to transmitting information, exhort. --

Or again:  We may regard elephants and chimps as simply alternate aspects of a single superorganism, since both may be seen as machines for processing peanuts into poop.
Or again, p. 219.  He quotes with approval: “Edward Rothstein, a critic trained in both mathematics and music, compares their creative processes”:

We begin with objects that look dissimilar.  We compare, find patterns, analogies with what we already know.  We distance ourselves and create abstractions…

I’d be prepared to concede (and the suggestion is intriguing) that, at a high and abstract level, there are similarities between the appreciation of … well, certain types of music (not “Who Let the Dogs Out”) and mathematics.  But surely the creative processes are quite different.   The description above (which does rather sound like a mathematician’s work)  is itself already such an abstraction, that it rings less like an analysis, than like a really terrific pick-up line  for naive and impressionable co-eds.

(There is a wonderful app, by the bye, for mathifying, or at least patternizing, our musical appreciation:

An animated graphic showing interval type

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X1QM6YZC45g&src_vid=asDXpfFMKNA&feature=iv&annotation_id=annotation_587547

Disney did something similar at the beginning of “Fantasia”, but this display is more precise and structured, and ultimately just as evocative as the artistic impressionism.)

However, there is another way of reading Whewell’s definition, which, whether or not Whewell himself meant it this way, leads to a more interesting notion, which we may call strong consilience.   This thesis, I shall argue, is exciting, though false; whereas the watered-down weak consilience is little more than consistency, and thus is uninteresting even if true.

[Note:   I have only just this minute stumbled upon the fact that H. Allen Orr has already written a (typically incisive) review of Consilience as well. That man is hard to top, whenever he opens his mouth about something.  So out of respect for the reader’s time, I must in all candor now urge you to cease reading this one, and go read Orr instead:

http://bostonreview.net/BR23.5/Orr.html

If, after you have savored and assimilated what Orr has to say (and which, fwiw, I heartily endorse), you still have appetite left for some leftovers, you may return to the present on-going essay.

Orr himself, incidentally, writing with Jerry Coyne, downplays consilience even within biology, in that the essential species concept is itself not tightly unified:

Because we rejected ecological differentiation as part of the Biological Species Concept in sexually reproducing groups, we obviously endorse the use of different species concepts in different groups.  We do not consider this pluralism to be a weakness of the BSC.  Because the causes of discreteness may well differ among taxa, so may the concepts appropriate to addressing the species problem.

Jerry Coyne and H. Allen Orr, Speciation  (2004), p. 52 ]

~

~  Posthumous Endorsement ~

"If I were alive today, and in the mood for a mystery,

this is what I'd be reading: "

I Don't Do Divorce Cases

Murphy on the Mount.

(I am William Whewell, and I approved this message.)

~         ~

~

(To resume...)  ]

So, let us see if we can force an interpretation on Whewell’s words which will lead to something interesting.

An “induction”, whatever exactly that may be, is not a fact, but an orderly pattern of facts.   So let us by fiat define  strong consilience thus: 

actual isomorphism (or at least homomorphism) between established aspects of different disciplines. 

The model for what we have in mind  is the collection of surprising and delightful structural coincidences within and between mathematics and various parts of (originally) mostly physics, known under the slogan of the unreasonable effectiveness of mathematics.  (You can consult Wigner’s original essay of that title here.)  And since Wigner wrote, the essence of the history of mathematics over this past half-century or more, has been an efflorescing of consilience in just this neo-Whewellian sense:  subfield after subfield  turn out to be deeply interlinked.  It is a breathtaking tale (and has, incidentally -- see below -- nothing whatever to do with the thesis of Reductionism).

There have also been some remarkable recent examples of consilience between math and physics:  cases in which mathematicians, burrowing from (as it were) the east coast, and physicists, burrowing from (so to speak) the west, suddenly met in the middle.  Celebrated cases include:  fibre bundles (math) and gauge theories (physics); zeros of the Riemann zeta-function (math) and atomic energy levels  (physics).  These results are, I suspect, among the most important of the past century (as much as to say:  of the past two millennia), and the best thing would be for us all to quit our day-jobs and join mountaintop monasteries set up specially to study these matters.  (While not omitting matins;  first things first.)

Mathematics itself might be defined as the science of matching patterns;  so there is a certain appropriateness that it serves as a link between such superficially disparate phenomena as the pattern of spots on a leopard and the subject of reaction-diffusion equations (pioneered by none other than Alan Turing), or floret patterns and Fibonacci series.  An absorbing book on this subject is Life’s other secret (bad title, good book), by Ian Stewart, 1998.

“Strong Program” publications, that go way beyond such vacuous ecumenism, include the Encyclopedia of Unified Science (Vienna Circle).

[A more careful consideration of this kind of consilience  is available here.]

 

~     ~     ~

There are times when Wilson does seem to be talking about something like strong consilience  (p. 125):

The natural sciences have constructed a webwork of causal explanation  that runs all the way from quantum physics  to the brain sciences and evolutionary biology.

Yet at other times  (p. 229), consilient seems no more than a ten-dollar synonym for consistent:

The biological origin of the arts is a working hypothesis, dependent on the reality of the epigenetic rules … It is meant to be testable, vulnerable, and consilient with the rest of biology.

Which is to say:  When attempting to demonstrate that various foul-smelling chemicals lead directly to the Goldberg Variations  and  Paradise Lost, you’re not allowed to actually falsify the basic biological facts.

~      ~      ~

Wilson never explicitly defines the characteristics of consilience once and for all -- which is fine;  it’s more a term to guide the thoughts along.   I use “minimalism” in a similar way, in these essays:  connotation accretes to the term in the course of investigation.  And a connotation that accretes to Wilson’s term  is that of hierarchy:  which has indeed characterized biology ever since Linnaeus, and in ever richer ways since, but which seems a very odd fit for, say, mathematics or art.  P. 182:

The crucial difference between the two domains is consilience:  the medical sciences have it and the social sciences do not.  Medical scientists build upon a coherent foundation of molecular and cell biology.  They pursue elements of health and illness  all the way down to the level of biophysical chemistry. … Social scientists  by and large  spurn the idea of the hierarchical ordering of knowledge…

Sidenote:

Steven Pinker (The Blank Slate,p. 26) quotes from anthropologist Leslie White  the sort of statement that apparently drove the worthy Wilson u-batz:

The culture process [is] sui generis;  culture is explainable in terms of culture.

Not, note, even in terms of psychology;  let alone physics.

Anyhow:

If being hierarchical is a requirement for being consilient, then indeed the term in this sense is more substantive than it seemed when the author proclaimed that simply using “information” would suffice.  And accordingly it becomes more falsifiable (philosophically, this is a good thing), but also (though I won’t argue the point further) in the case of many quite respectable spheres of activity, false (not so good).

~      ~      ~

Wilson’s penultimate chapter is titled “Ethics and Religion”.   Its motto (p. 238) is:

Moral reasoning, I believe, is  at every level  intrinsically consilient with the natural sciences.

Now -- those of you who have followed this blog (in particular my intemperate trashing of morally reductionist neuroscientists), no doubt expect, that at this point I shall undergo the Incredible Hulk transformation and start blasting-out one of my patented rants  against atheists (for Wilson manfully avows himself, not really an atheist, but an a-theist, a non-theist), Nominalists (Wilson is, in general, not that), and Donald Trump (so far as I know, Wilson has never even met the man).  Well, not a bit of it.

First of all, because I myself do not pretend to really understand moral reasoning.  Logic, yes, given the premises;  but ahh, the premises !  But more important, because Edward O. Wilson is a remarkably genial and congenial companion;  and one who, given his deeply Christian upbringing, truly understands what it’s all about, even if he has reached different conclusions from those of his Protestant evangelical tutors (as have I).  Furthermore, it would seem that both the present and the previous Pope would agree with that statement.

He clarifies:

The split is not, as popularly supposed, between religious believers and secularists.  It is between transcendentalists [dbj:  cf. Realists], those who think that moral guidelines exist outside the human mind,  and empiricists [dbj: cf. Nominalists], who think them contrivances of the mind.  The choice between religious or nonreligious conviction  and the choice between ethically transcendentalist or empiricst conviction  are cross-cutting decisions made in metaphysical thought.

Absolutely true.  There is, of course, a question about how non-theistic and indeed non-deistic transcendental moral schemes are grounded, but that does not invalidate the logical point made here.

As Charles C. Gillispie puts it in his generous review:

Put baldly, this sounds like arid monistic materialism. Wilson does not put it baldly. He brings to his subject a disarming mixture of personal modesty and intellectual rigor. His reading is wide and his learning extensive. He writes as well of arts and letters as he does of science. It is difficult to think of a finer evocation of Milton's genius than Wilson’s passage on Satan’s invasion of the garden of Eden.

(Um, well, actually, not so much:  C.S. Lewis, A Preface to Paradise Lost.  Still, Wilson’s own tribute is very creditable indeed, for a myrmecologist.)

He adds:

There is no question in his mind but that conveying the essence of truth and beauty pertains to the arts.

You (as Sarah Palin would put it) betcha !  But -- contrary to the effusions of certain journalistic science-pornographers, “conveying the essence of beauty” is not, in fact, the brief of science.

~      ~      ~

The latter part of the book contains rather general sociopolitical discussions:  which, at his own assessment that the social sciences are lamentably unconsilient, means that we stray fairly far from genuinely scientific or Whewellian concerns. 

Despite the fact that his overarching project is ambitious (or made to sound so), Wilson himself is a becomingly modest man.  He even cops to a probably spurious potential charge, granting a “whiff of brimstone in the consilient world view, and a seeming touch of Faust to those committed to its humanistic core.”  Specifically, he points to the spectre of human genetic engineering:  “How much should people be allowed to mutate themselves and their desendants?”  The spectre is quite real, the charge being spurious only if laid at the door of a Whewellian philosophy of science.   What eventually -- or not-so-eventually -- comes to pass, will depend, neither on philosophy nor on theoretical science, but on what is fashionable and funded in places like Singapore and Hong Kong.  It is quite possible that, within the lifetime of some of you, you will witness a Wellsian world of Eloi and Morlocks.   Institutionally, not much stands in the way of this but the Historical Church.

~     ~      ~     ~     ~

This may be a tad off-topic but... The Atlantic Monthly has just published a very nice article on Professor Wilson's current activities.  Of particular interest to myself was reference to an article that Wilson recently co-authored with Martin Nowak, a splendid mathematical biologist whose acquaintance I had the pleasure of making at a conference he organized at the Princeton IAS, described in "Follia Linguistica" (in: Princeton Follies;  to appear).

~      ~      ~

Russell Standish, a mathematician, cites the work of his chatmate, one Bruno:

His conclusion is, instead of psychology being reducible to, or indeed emerging from the laws of physics, the fundamental laws of physics are in fact a conseuence of the properties of machine psychology.  This is indeed a revolutionary reversal of the traditional ontology of these subjects.

Russell Standish, Theory of Nothing (2006; 2^nd edn. 2011), p. 129

Such a view is certainly consilient, though it stands Wilsonian consilience on its head, along with common sense.  And Standish embraces it thus (solecistically):  “I agree with this fundamental tenant.”  By that he means tenet;  but “machine psychology” is no typo -- sic, as it stands -- albeit it would make about as much sense to derive the laws of physics rather from marine psychology :  We are all but the dreams of porpoises …

[Update 16 III 2012] A striven-for consilience of art criticism and neuroscience:
http://chronicle.com/article/Eric-Kandels-Visions/131095/