Showing posts with label John von Neumann. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John von Neumann. Show all posts

Sunday, December 27, 2015

Modus tollens tollendus est ! (iterum re-updated anew)




In philosophy there are very few  and perhaps no valid  logical-impossibility  or reductio ad absurdum  proofs.
-- Alasdair MacIntyre, After Virtue (1981; 21984), p.  101

Wer A sagt, muss auch B sagen.
-- old folk-saying

Die bürgerliche Stellung des Widerspruchs
-- L. Wittgenstein, Philosophische Untersuchungen, #125


An example of epistemological ‘character armor’:

All scientific research programmes may be characterized by their ‘hard core’.  The negative heuristic of the programme  forbids us to direct the modus tollens at this ‘hard core’.  Instead, we must use our ingenuity to articulate or even invent ‘auxiliary hypotheses’, which form a protective belt around this core, and we must redirect the modus tollens  to these.
-- Imre Lakatos, “Morphology of Scientific Research Programs”, in I. Lakatos & A. Musgrave, eds., Criticism and the Growth of Knowledge (1970), p. 133

In political or religious ideology, there are obvious analogues of this ‘hard core’.  (E.g. 'sacred cows'.)

~

[This exercise originally began as a simple application of cool, unruffled logic  to a sociopolitical topic too hot to handle in less rarified terms.  The point was, If you were logically consistent, you would … (taceo).  But a working-out of the general intellectual idea  led, inevitably, towards that domain (mathematics, logic itself) where the very idea of consistency is most at home;  and led, less obviously, to a kind of backhanded defence of inconsistency  (wherein we follow our countryman Emerson, in his depreciation of that ‘hobgoblin of little minds’).

Modus tollens is that figure whereby, when a proposition entails a falsehood, that proposition is infirmed.   The procedure finds general acceptance among the logically inclined.  This essay considers cases where otherwise logical people nonetheless kick against the pricks of this restriction.

We now return to the original plan.]

~      ~      ~

It should be obvious that the fundamental objections to racism and sexism … apply equally to speciesism.
-- Peter Singer,  Animal Liberation (1975), p. 6; quoted in Stephen Schwartz, A Brief History of Analytic Philosophy (2012), p. 282.

Singer’s proposition has the form  “P => Q”;  we shall call it the “Singer Sentence”.  It is, so presented, a proposition, and no mere proposal, since he claims that it is “obvious”, presumably because founded upon a generally-accepted principle:  basically, What’s sauce for the goose  is sauce for the gander.    Since that principle is reasonable (we have often invoked it ourselves), though extra-logical, we have no a-priori quarrel with the Singer Sentence at all.

Suppose, however, that you yourself eat meat, wear wool and leather, and are content that rabid dogs should be shot.  Suppose further that -- selfish cad that you are -- you do not, like the saintly naked Jainist, wear a veil before your lips when drinking tea, lest you accidentally imbibe some supernatant insect.   Nor (for shame!)  do you enjoin your dentist and your physician  to refrain from administering anaesthia or antibiotics, on the grounds that these, having been developed with the aid of experiments on helpless animals, are fruit from a poisoned tree.   And suppose that (blast your impudence!)  you do not intend to amend your ways.  Well then, in effect, objectively, you hold that “not-Q”.  What follows from this?

What follows (by the most elementary logic -- the rule known as modus tollens) is that, if you assert the Singer Sentence, then you must needs conclude:  not-P.   -- That, of course, would be a political catastrophe.

Short of adopting Jainism, there are only a few ways out:

(1) Have recourse to a kind of meta-tollentic principle, to the effect that any set of propositions which entail not-P  must itself be denied, P being unantastbar.

(2)  Proclaim the truth of Q, even while continuing your carnivorous habits;  shrug apologetically; reference Emerson re the "hobgoblin of little minds".

(3) Boldly hold the joint and several validity of :
P;  P=>Q; and not-Q. 
Then utter not another word upon the subject.
Such a mindset is known as “doublethink”.  It is not so bad once you get used to it, judging by its millions of satisfied customers.


Cf:

Whether the ethic of ‘speciesism’, to use Richard Ryder’s term, can be put on a logical footing  any more sound that that of ‘racism’, I do not know.
-- Richard Dawkins, The Selfish Gene (1976; 2nd edn. 1989), p. 10

(That ‘any more’ sounds rather half-hearted …)

~

There is a different sort of logic-chopping that may be operative in a case like this.   Someone wishes, for non-logical reasons, to assert that Q; then trumps up (fallacious) reasons for asserting that P => Q.   (Thus, currently, in a certain political fringe, the desired outcome is “It’s all Obama’s fault”.  Whatever P may arise in the world, a hasty P => Q is asserted, to reach the desired conclusion.)   But, for psychological and political reasons, I do not believe that Singer himself is here guilty of this:  he in all likelihood does feel ethico-logically compelled to deduce Q, however unwelcome that conclusion may be in many quarters.   For he likewise (by different steps) reaches a quite distinct and socially unmentionable conclusion (this time concerning deformed fetuses or the disabled), and one which is precisely of a nature to enrage that segment of society which would embrace his earlier conclusion about animals.  So, no, Singer was not trying to win any popularity contests.


[Footnote] For those of you in the quandary (2), here is the place 4 U to shop (courtesy of Garrison Keillor):

People’s Meats

Most of us accept strict vegetarianism as the best way,  but many find it difficult to change their eating habits.  People’s Meats is an interim solution.  All of our meat comes from animals who were unable to care for themselves any longer.  Hoping to phase out the operation, we do not advertise hours, prices, or location.  We do not deliver.


~            ~            ~

The analysis above was clad in sociopolitical raiment;  but its skeleton is logical, which is subject-matter-neutral.  Consider the following (which is skeletally somewhat distinct, but in ways  unimportant  for our purpose):

Let P be standard mathematical praxis.   (And here -- as seldom -- we actually are referring to the human practice of mathematizing, rather than to the timeless and species-independent truths of mathematics itself, whatever these may be.   For more on the distinction, see here: http://worldofdrjustice.blogspot.com/2012/08/on-nature-of-mathematical-knowledge.html.)
Something similar to the  P => Q step was broached about a century ago; it concludes (while using reasonable background metamathematical assumptions comparable to the “what’s sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander” enthymeme above) that this standard practice leads to paradox.  As John von Neumann put it,

A closer study of the merita of the case, undertaken by Russell and Weyl, and concluded by Brouwer, showed that the way in which  not only set theory  but also most of modern mathematics  used the concepts of ‘general validity’ and of ‘existence’  was philosophically objectionable.
-- quoted in James R. Newman, ed. World of Mathematics (1956), p. 2058

Must we then give up P?   Brouwer (a Dutch mathematician who had previously proved important results) now plays the role of Singer, and went on to his logical conclusion:

A system of mathematics which was free of these undesirable traits, “intuitionism”, was developed by Brouwer.  In this system  the difficulties and contradiction of set theory  did not arise.  However, a good fifty per cent of modern mathematics, in its most vital -- and up to then unquestioned -- parts, especially in analysis, were also affected by this “purge”:  they either became invalid, or had to be justified by very complicated subsidiary considerations.
-- id.

(That final clause is a far more dreadful consequence than might be apparent to those outside mathematics, since mathematicians prize elegance and generality of proof. )

Du muss dein Leben aendern ...


So -- shall we bow to these strictures, and surrender our mathematical meat? 

Von Neumann goes on:

Only very few mathematicians were willing to accept the new, exigent standards for their own daily use.  Very many admitted that Weyl and Brouwer were prima facie right, but they themselves continue to trespass, that is, to do their own mathematics in the old, “easy” fashion -- probably in the hope that somebody else, at some other time, might find the answer to the intuitionistic critique and thereby justify them a posteriori.

In short, the bulk of mathematicians adopted strategy (3) above.

Brouwer, like Singer, went on to make a pest of himself for many years.  

[Footnote]
Intuitionism -- initially a sort of mathematical vegetarianism -- is by no means dead.  Michael Dummet, no crank, espouses intuitionistic logic (I am currently painfully working my way through his essay on the subject, line by line.)   And it has subsequently morphed in ways that are quite beyond me, e.g. in topos theory.

[Footnote 2, a half hour later]  In his essay “The Philosophical Basis of Intuitionistic Logic” (1973), Michael Dummet writes (for our present purposes, the context is unimportant), concerning a proposal that he has just put forward:

What is involved is a thesis in the theory of meaning  of the highest possible level of generality.  Such a thesis is vulnerable in many places:  if it should prove that it cannot be coherently applied  to any one region of discourse,  to any one class of statements, then the thesis cannot be generally true,  and the general argument in favor of it  must be fallacious.  [dbj:  That last phrase has rather a Sherlockian cast to it.]  Construed in this way, therefore, a position in the philosophy of mathematics  will be capable of being undermined by considerations which have nothing directly to do with mathematics at all.

This amounts to offering a hostage to fortune -- specifically, a hostage to modus tollens, in its strong quantified form:    P => x Q(x):  the existence of but a single exception (x  ¬Q(x) )  blows the whole game.

~

We need not have recourse to anything so rarified as ethics or metamathematics  to be confronted with an apparently (morally, intellectually) scandalous state of affairs:  It stares us in the face in that favorite tow-headed boy of the philosophy of science, physics.   And here, in that most venerable part of it,  Maxwell’s theory of electromagnetism.  Rock-solid in its own day, it survived (and even helped inspire) the introduction of Special Relativity.  It fit smoothly with the new developments in non-EM forces, graciously uniting with the Weak force to form the Electro-weak, and so forth.  And yet, in the context of the atomic theory, it was (if only in whispers) an intellectual scandal, since it predicted that atoms were unstable:  the whirling electrons would radiate energy away and quickly collapse into the nucleus.  Thus, the material world as we know it, could not exist.

Now, one stance of reaction in the face of so bald a challenge, is to say:  “R-r-right!  Science cannot err;  ergo, the world as we know it  does not exist.  Meta-ergo, we all are just brains in a vat.”   Such, in effect, is the path taken by contemporary eliminative materialists -- a shuffling tribe of hunchbacked ne’er-do-wells, who, faced with their irrefutable failure to derive free will, faith, thought, beauty, aspiration, or much of anything of value, from their prolonged and proctoscopic vivisections of sea-slugs and the like (to which the World of Dr Justice, friend to all creatures great and small, responds with the evisceration of eliminative materialists)  -- these gentlemen (stretching that word to its breaking-point), these … bipeds, conclude that Free Will is an illusion, faith and beliefs and reason  all one great gigantic joke, and that we are all just robots, brains marinating in a vat of simulation, or (barely) glorified sea-slugs.   (In this they are partly correct:  the eliminativists -- mark the name -- are but brains in a chamber-pot.)

So, are those who do not take that bold blind path, whenever some contradiction turns up, in a state of intellectual bad faith?

The answer is a subtle and qualified mmmm….n-n-no-o-o …..  For relief, we turn to Quine.

~

We frequently do turn to Quine for relief,  to savor his elegant pellucid prose, when the cacophony of the agora grows too rebarbative.    Yet it is not for his literary qualities that we seek him now, but for his (jointly with Pierre Duhem) holism.  Specifically, his celebrated doctrine that theses face the tribunal of experience, not single-spies, but as a corporate body.  There are (so to speak) concentric shells of propositions relatively dispensible and relatively central:  but in principle, none is immune to revision.  (Intuitionists have even gone dicking about with the Law of the Excluded Middle, and you don’t get more central than that. -- In that case, Quine was unimpressed:  “When you change the logic, you are only changing the subject.”  Rather a Platonist remark, that, Van.)

Thus, consider again the plight of electromagnetic theory, faced with the atomic paradox.  Its bacon was eventually saved, not by any refinement of that theory itself, but by an entirely unanticipated development:  quantum mechanics.

Now, there is no sense in which a pre-quantum physicist could have said “We saw that coming” or “Toleja so”.   Until the quantum theory arrived from nowhere, physicists had been content to simply live with the contradiction, in the classic fashion of Walt Whitman (“Do I contradict myself?  Very well then, I contradict myself.”)   And their quietism was justifiable, even during the years when no resolution was in sight.  For, Maxwell’s electromagnetic theory had done sterling service  both practically and theoretically, in a host of ways.  [This, I am aware, is intellectually comparable to the classic defense of Mussolini, that he made the trains run on time.]  The fact that it predicted an anomaly on the atomic level … well okay, an anomaly involving THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE BLOWING TO BITS -- but still, an atomic anomaly, not a macroscopic one (save secondarily), suggesting that one might, for the duration (until this beast be slain), simply wall-off the subatomic level (“there be dragons”) and get on with our lives.  It certainly did not make sense to throw out the Maxwellian baby with the anomalous bathwater.

In the case of EM, it turned out that there wasn’t even any bad bathwater to discard:  electromagnetism survived intact.   In the case of the aether, the anomaly was the Michelson-Morley experiment, whose results were later explained by yet another where-did-that-come-from new revolutionary theory, Special Relativity;  and in this case, the aether theory had to be discarded.   But both cases illustrate the thesis of Quine-Duhem, that when a body of doctrine is challenged, it is not initially evident which pieces must eventually give, and some may be close to the core of the structure.   In the case of Relativity and quantum theory, the transmogrification went deeply into the core indeed, upending our notions of space, time, causality, and continuity.   In retrospect, those curiously stable atoms seem not so bad;  the explanation is harder to live with than was the thing that was unexplained.

~

A word on our less-than-effusive approval of Quinean holism.
It is all too easy to imagine self-serving uses of such a principle.  As, Dennis the Menace, caught with his hand in the cookie-jar, exclaims:

“Mother, do not prejudge!  Granted, your B-fibres seem to present an image of someone resembling young Master Dennis with his arm hovering above a receptacle of some sort.  The hand itself -- which you suspect of larceny -- is not visible;  perhaps it has been tragically amputated, in which case the young fellow is more to be pitied than blamed.  Yet, how are we to reconcile this dubious alleged image with the far more desireable thesis that his character is pure as the driven snow?  Remember:  Propositions face the tribunal of experience as a corporate body!  Perhaps 'tis but an illusion of swamp-gas;  nay, perchance the fault lies somewhere in that oft-critiqued principle of Induction …”

(Later, as he sits with his pookie-bear in the familiar corner, he steams:  “But I had her epistemologically …”)

~

Of all human endeavors, surely mathematics is the most sensitive to refutations, however slight.    Yet behold this brawny scoffing attitude, specifically as regards the central and indispensible Calculus (famously the target of Bishop Berkeley’s barbs -- which it shrugged off):

If the calculus had not been ‘justified’ Weierstrass-style, it would have been ‘justified’ anyway.  The point is that the real justification of the calculus  is its success.
-- Hilary Putnam, “What is Mathematical Truth?”

Breezy, that!  Huey Long couldn’t have put it more pithily.

~

And now let us bring it all on home:  confronting the challenge of modus tollens, when a refutation or contradiction or paradox is met, in its home territory of mathematical Logic

Celebratedly, the great German logician Frege  fell into despair (his masterwork already in galleys), upon being informed by Russell  of the latter’s eponymous Paradox. 
There we see  the logical conscience  at its most delicate.  For  Russell’s paradox, worthy though it be, is rather far-fetched, involving sets-that-are-members-or-not-members-of-themselves  (to which your average mathematician, let alone physicist, will say:  Huh??), all too reminiscent of the well-known but trifling Barber Paradox, involving a purported barber who “shaves everyone who does not shave himself”.  Paradox:  Does he shave himself???   Answer:  Fageddaboudit;  ain’t no such barber.

Rather other was the case of Quine’s Mathematical Logic.   In the version of its first edition (1940), this was shown to entail a contradiction.
Now:  an axiomatic system of logic, such as ML, is so tightly knit, that one bad apple really does spoil the whole barrel -- you can’t just shrug and say, “Nobody’s perfect.”  The situation in question, is generally held to be a catastrophe -- that any system which can derive a contradiction, can derive any proposition at all.
However, Hao Wang stepped in (ever the gentleman), and tidied things up, and all was well:  put right  in the second edition.
Haec fabula docet:  Contradictions are a bummer,  but don’t commit suicide  on their account.

[Footnote]   The Duhem-Quinean corporate-body doctrine  can be stated in terms of modus tollens, thus.  Given

            P1 + P2 + … Pn => Q
and
            ¬Q
we conclude
            ¬P1  ¬ P2 …    ¬Pn
That is, at least one of the co-conspirators whose conjunction led to a falsity, must itself be false.
But this does not imply  that the eventual valid conjunction will involve most or even any of those Pi;  we might even toss the whole lot of them overboard, and usher in a whole different set of conjuncts, to accomplish what we previously attempted with the P’s.  Such, roughly, describes the introduction of quantum mechanics, or the refutation of astrology, or any other paradigm-switch between incommensurables.


In his section on Quine-Duhem, Lakatos writes: 

Some people felt intuitively that the modus tollens from refutation  may ‘hit’ very distant premisses  in our total knowledge,  and therefore were trapped in the idea that the ‘ceteris paribus clause’ is a premiss which is joined conjunctively with the obvious premisses.  But this ‘hit’ is achieved, not by modus tollens, but as a result of our subsequent replacement of our original deductive model.
-- Imre Lakatos, “Morphology of Scientific Research Programs”, in I. Lakatos & A. Musgrave, eds., Criticism and the Growth of Knowledge (1970), p. 186

~

On a related note, another look at the notion that, should you ever derive a contradiction -- not as a tollentic hypothetical, but as the result of a deduction -- it’s Game Over for everything you’ve ever done.  A noted logician writes:

In an inconsistent system, every proposition is a theorem.
-- Hao Wang, From Mathematics to Philosophy  (1974), p. 42

Yet a few pages later  he qualifies this:

There is a generally accepted principle  that a contradiction implies everything.  We may yet distinguish proofs of the system which go through contradictions  from those which do not.
-- Hao Wang, From Mathematics to Philosophy  (1974), p. 47

~

Purely linguistic note:  A savorsome turn of phrase for the modal-tollentic move, one which I had not previously encountered:

Assume  towards a contradiction  that there is a set U  T that is not in T’.
-- Volker Runde, A Taste of Topology (2005),

~    ~     ~

There is a curious parallel, or at least an analogy, between, on the one hand,

(1) the foundational challenges to mathematics  alluded to above, together with, not a refutation of that challenge, but a broadly dismissive (and, arguably, pragmatically well justified) response on the part of professionals in the field;

and on the other hand

(2) recent broad-bore philosophical challenges to adaptationism (neo-Darwinism), along with the overall reaction of evolutionism’s professionals: indifference or -- the socio- and noö-politics of the thing being what they are -- foaming hostility.

Consider in particular  a recent (2010) volume co-authored by Jerry Fodor and Piattelli-Palmarelli, the well-written if pugnaciously titled What Darwin Got Wrong.
Their basic thesis is extensively and subtlely argued; hopefully I don’t overmuch crush it by fitting it into the following nutshell:


=>  The (currently hegemonic) gene-centered adaptationist theory  empirically does not work; indeed, for quite general reasons (having little to do with biology per se) it could not work even in principle;
=> A holistic, phenotype-cum-ecosystem-cum-kitchen-sink-centered approach  might -- might -- prove valid, at least in principle;  but in practice, the problem is intractable from a nomologically explanatory standpoint, apart from occasional lucky breaks.

Or, in the author’s own undistorted prose (p. 127):

To be sure, none of that actually shows that there aren’t laws of selection:  there may be, on the one hand, units of phenotypic change, and, on the other hand, units of ecological change;  and there may be laws that connect the two.  But there’s no reasons to suppose, as adaptationists routinely do, that the units of phenotypic change  are anything like what we generally think of as individual phenotypic traits.

(For connoisseurs of academic-polemical rhetoric, there is actually a sly move here.   While rhetorically conceding the possibility of a pheno-unit/eco-unit correlation, thus retrodictively legitimizing the latter two theoretical posits, these supposititious entities “units of ecological change” are by no means as familiar as other entities in the ontology of biology, and on the face of it  sound sort of bogus…)


~

We must distinguish two categories of challenge to any received body of doctrine:  The Anomaly; vs. Foundational.   The former (speaking just psychologically now) can either represent a mere annoyance  (or even:  Something to be hidden from the fickle general public at all costs, lest they overestimate its importance -- e.g.,  Evolution, Climate Change, anything medical), or a (possibly career-making) challenge.   The latter, to almost everyone, from the man in the street to the faculty lounge, tend to be just d*mned annoying.

Thus, consider  the Lasting Atom Scandal of the pre-quantum years, a poster-child example of Anomaly. (Nobody called it that, but  in all candor  they should have.)  This was phenomenologically egregious (in ways even a layman could understand), and had to be resolved somehow (some day, by someone else) -- indeed, imagine that the problem existed today, rather than a hundred years ago:  You’d have Republicans calling for the de-funding of physics, demanding e-mails archives, etc.  But it did not necessarily challenge -- certainly it did not set out to challenge, chin-foremost -- the nature of (say) Time, or Energy, or  for that matter  the existence of atoms (which had indeed been doubted by scientists, much later in history than most folks realize, but on quite different and less sophisticated grounds).

This anomaly, as we have seen, turned out to be handled in the most gratifying way possible:   We got to retain all the Maxwellian E-M we had laboriously learned, and now the new Quantum Mechanics stepped in (Jeeves-like)  to handle the anomaly.

More recently, there actually have been some challenges to physical theory  at a more basic level:  Time, which hoped to have escaped further challenge  by being subsumed into Space-Time, is once again on the carpet, from string theorists and others, who maintain that such parameters should fall out of a final theory, and not be input to it.  

Had such a challenge been posed, say, in the nineteenth century, it would have been an impudent kick at the foundations.  But now it (allegedly)  grows out of theory:  The theory may be mistaken, but it calls Time into question because it thinks it has something better. 
Much of the history of physics has been like that -- which is partly why it has been (politically) such smooth sailing.   Michaelson-Morley presented an Anomaly to the aether theory -- but no-one had been going around snarkily dissing ideas like distance and simultaneity until Special Relativity came along and re-conceived these.  This was (to use the Hegelian terminology, which here does fit) not a destruction, but a sublation  of the old ideas.


Sometimes there will be a simple anomaly, such as the discovery of continuous-but-nowhere-differentiable-functions, or space-filling curves.  These are eventually gobbled up and incorprated into a more robust and sophisticated mathematics.
Often an original sui-generis gnarly anomaly  will suggest a more general research program:  As, We need to pay closer attention to matterns of continuity and convergence (pointwise, uniform, almost-everywhere, etc., on the analytic side; and eventually the full exfoliation into the neighborhood-systems of topology).
Quite otherwise are challenges that come out of nowhere and that threaten to knock the stilts out from under you.  Russell’s Parodox, reaching Frege at press-time, did not strike him as another delightful puzzle to wrestle with some Sunday morning, but as a poisoned dart in his life-work.   Though they individually made numerous important positive contributions, the lytic work of Gödel and of Brouwer can be read this way, challenging the very notion of validity, truth, and proof.   Denial of the Excluded Middle indeed!  “Sirs, there you go too far!”  (“When you change the logic, you are merely changing the subject.” -- Quine, dyspeptically.)

Schematically (in your worst nightmare):
“Miller has reduced mathematics to set-theory;  and Spiller has shown that set-theory is rotten at its foundations.  Therefore everything that you are doing, or have ever done, or ever could do in your sorry life, is utterly worthless.”

Or:
(Pontius Pilate; Brouwer; post-Modernists):  “What is truth, anyway?  Huh? -- Meh.”

~


[Afternote]   It is a highly useful feature of the Blogspot interface, that it allows hot-linked Labels.    So for instance, were you disposed to read more by or about Mr. Hao Wang, for example, you would simply click on his name in the Labels field, and you will see every post so Labeled, in reverse chronological of posting.   But, annoyingly, there is a stringent limit on how many Labels any given essay is allowed.  We filled this one up with mathy stuff and now have no slack left over for the Darwiny bits.  So here you go:


Note:  The last two are not redundant upon each other, and indeed have (I believe) zero overlap.  Darwin was not an ultra-Darwinist;  “Je ne suis pas marxiste” -- Marx.

Additional relevant Labels, which (boo, blogspot) would not fit into the Label field  for this post:
http://worldofdrjustice.blogspot.com/search/label/Ernest%20Gellner

[Post-Afternote]  Other examples of modus drasticus tollens.
A mittel-europäischer rationalist recalls “those golden, and, all in all very peaceful final decades of the colonial system”, and adverts ad the hermeneuts:

The argument seems to be -- Descartes led to Kipling.  We repudiate Kipling, so we must repudiate Descartes as well.   The expiation of colonialism must include the repudiation of clarity, for that had been but the tool of domination.
-- Ernest Gellner, Language and Solitude (posthum. 1998), p. 176

We, by contrast, raise a glass to Kipling;  so if this Descartes fellow had anything to do with it, chap can’t be all bad.


“During five literary generations, every enlightened person has despised him,  and at the end of that time  nine-tenths of those enlightened persons are forgotten, and Kipling is  in some sense  still there.” -- George Orwell, 1942


Modus tollens has surprisingly many enemies. Intuitionists, indeed, reject it:

The intuitionist position is that one can only state “P or Q” when one can give either a constructive proof of P  or a constructive proof of Q.  This standpoint has the consequence that proofs by contradiction (reductio ad absurdum) are not valid.
-- José Ferrerós, “The Crisis in the Foundations of Mathematics”, in Timothy Gowers, ed., The Princeton Companion to Mathematics (2008), p. 150

Holism à la Duhem-Quine  skirts it with a flanking maneuver:

… arguing that a given observational consequence is deduced  not from an empirical hypothesis alone, but rather from the conjunction of this hypothesis with the relevant set of auxiliary assumptions.   Hence, the failure of the observational consequence does not deductively refute the hypothesis by modus tollens, when taken by itself, but discredits only its conjunction with the pertinent auxiliaries.  
--  Th. Kupka, “Introduction”, in: Adolf Grünbaum, Collected Works, vol. I (2013), p. 2

~

Another example from a political context, where propositions are surrounded by swarms of sensitivities --  Re series of premises and conclusions relating ethnicity, nationalism, and industrialism:

The argument is impeccable.  Its premises are valid.  How can a valid inference from true premises  yield a conclusion which appears to be wholly refuted by historical reality?
Ernest Gellner, Nationalism (1997), p. 32

~

Quite different in purpose and detail from the classical modus tollens, is the assumption of a premise known to be contrary to fact, but where you have antecedently proven (at great expense of elbow-grease) that the assumption of this simple premise does not effect the results of calculations which otherwise must be carried out laboriously.  As, when (having slogged through a bit of integral calculus) you prove that, in calculating the gravitational effects of a ball, you can pretend that the entire mass of the ball is concentrated at the center:  an enormous simplification.  Or again:

We can get the correct answer for the probability of partial reflection  by imagining (falsely) that all reflection comes from only the front and back surfaces.
-- Richard Feynman, QED (1985), p. 107

The elegant idiom for introducing such a foredoomed hypothesis is “Suppose, per impossibile, ...”
~

At the antipodes from the “tollendus” camp, are the celebrants of falsification or falsifiability, associated  in particular  with the name of Karl Popper. ...

~
Miscellaneous additions: 

(1) Psychological observations

People seldom intuit what is unpalatable to them.  [Moreover, one can] eliminate any undesirable indirect implication of their special insight  by means of an additional hilfs-intuition, liquidating the embassassing logical relation.
-- Ernest Gellner, The Devil in Modern Philosophy (1974), p. 95

In short, one ‘answers’ the sceptic  by striding across logical gaps  to conclusions inconsistent with premises that one does not contest.
-- John Watkins, Science and Scepticism (1984), p. 34


(2) The reductio ad absurdum /”self-mate” gambit:

The traditional argument for the primacy of acceleration-retardation  rests on the absurdity of denying it.
-- Stephen Jay Gould, Ontogeny and Phylogeny (1977), p. 216

Chomsky’s book Syntactic Structures, which is regarded by some as a foundation-stone for this kind of activity, has been described by no less an authority than Roman Jakobson  as an argumentum a contrario (Jakobson, 1959), showing the impossibility of the whole enterprise.
-- Hilary Putnam, “Some Issues in the Theory of Grammar”, in  Mind, Language, and Reality (1975), p. 85


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Thursday, June 19, 2014

Egyenletesen sürü számsorozatok


We have oft lamented, how … hard things are, particularly in math and physics.  Let alone actually coming up with any worthwhile contributions yourself, nor even simply “keeping up with the literature”, but merely :  taking in -- understanding one  classic work done forty years, fifty years, a century ago.

I have on my nightstand  volume one of John von Neumann’s Collected Works (so titled, in English, and published in 1961).   Now, most Americans, myself certainly included, think of von Neumann -- “Johnny” to those who knew him -- as a Princeton luminary equal to those of Gödel and Einstein, and who, even more than they, was significantly responsible for ushering American into the front ranks of modern math and science, and best known to the general public as the co-author of the Theory of Games and Economic Behavior (1944), whose subsequent significance has only grown.
Yet those more familiar with the man will also be aware that he was born in Budapest, where he attended a German-speaking high school, eventually pursuing post-graduate studies in Switzerland and teaching at the University of Berlin.  He moved to Princeton in 1930 (a wise move, as things turned out), and remained there to the end of his days.

Accordingly, the reader confronted with his Collected Works, will be prepared for many of the early papers to be in German.   For this reader, that presents no problem at all.  But in any event, the Pergamon Press has organized this collection, not by date, but by topic, the first volume containing  “Logic, Theory of Sets, and Quantum Mechanics” (spot the odd man out, but anyway).   For the technical reader, rather than the biographer, that is convenient and commendable.  (Cf. the philologian Hugo Schuchardt, in “Sachen und Wörter”, second paragraph:  Stofflich geordnete Glossare  gewähren manche Aufklärung, die in alphabetische geordneten vermißt sind.”)   And you would expect that, thus organized, each volume would contain a mixture of articles in German and (later) English, with the exception of those treating of the theory of automata, or the game theory, which he never wrote about before coming to America, since he invented both of them here.

Yet the first volume contains no single article in English -- but does have one in Hungarian, whose title I have placed in the subject-field of this post,  pour épouvanter les érudits.

Saturday, June 29, 2013

Ideas: the case of Induction

[We continue with our survey of leading Ideas, begun here.]

(3) Induction

            There are logical problems with practical induction, notorious since Hume.  That we nonetheless freely (and even over-freely) constantly make use of it, might suggest that it reflects merely an innate disposition, reinforced because often successful (the world being, contingently, the way it is), thus logically on a par with the inveterate conviction of salmon that they need to swim upstream and spawn – which also usually works.  So let me creep up on it genetically, via something at least similar to the notion of induction, which I did not always take for granted (hence its eventual attainment may count, albeit marginally, as an Idea).
            For Parents Night, our third-grade teacher put samples on the blackboard  of multiplication problems  mastered by her class.  Everyone in the class could multiply a one-digit number by a one-digit number, she explained; eighty percent could multiply a two-digit number by a two-digit number, and one pupil (unnamed, but in fact your correspondant) could multiply a three-digit number by a three-digit number.  Not unnaturally proud of this accomplishment – which already was my first glimmering of an idea  not widespread in the lowest-common-denominator society of primary school, viz. that individual abilities might differ – I jauntily asked my father, How many digits can *you* multiply?
            The response I expected was something like “five” (he being an adult), or even “seven” (he being a scientist), or maybe even “ten” (what a special Dad!).  Instead he looked puzzled, even embarrassed.  It was not, he said, a well-defined question.  Multiplying numbers of *any* length was just a small homogeneous step up from multiplying slightly shorter numbers.  In practice you might become confused, and have to carefully write things down and check your work (indeed there *is* an individually varying limit as to how formidable a pair of numbers one can multiply in one’s *head*, but that was not the ability under discussion); yet in principle there was no limit to it, just as there wasn’t any highest number one could count to:  if you make it as far as n, you can get to n + 1.
            Now, he didn’t explain it quite as clearly as that, I imagine, but whatever it was he did say  triggered a flash of insight in my small head.  From that moment on  I had a completely different attitude to arithmetic as taught, to school as conducted, even a different attitude towards knowledge and education in general.  The teacher, from being an oracle, shrank to a small frail figure indeed.  And the problems on the blackboard were no longer confined to their chalky two dimensions, but bored outward, into the void.

            So far, there’s been no demonstration of an Idea beyond what we were born with, merely the application of same to phenomena initially conceived to be beyond its reach.  That is, the child began by conceiving the multiplication of two-digit numbers and the multiplication of four-digit numbers  to be as distinct as bipeds and quadrupeds, and we do not conceive six-legged insects and eight-legged spiders and octopuses to be some sort of inductive continuation of these.  But by the time we have arrived at mathematical induction, there does seem to be something new under the sun.  Given (by demonstration or observation) the truth of F(0), and proving that F(k) implies F(k+1), we suddenly, by these two little finite exercises, have access to an infinitity of truths, down to uncharted reaches of the sample space.


And lest you consider that elementary anecdote  a mere trifle of childhood, the smooth and indefinite extensibility of multiplication being obvious to any mature mind,
consider this, from John von Neumann:

In an analogy machine [what we now call an analogical computer, when we call it anything at all, since these have largely fallen by the wayside -- ed.],  a precision of 1 in 10^3 is easy to achieve; 1 in 10^4 somewhat difficult; ... 1 in 10^6 impossible …
In a digital machine, the above precisions mean merely that one builds the machine to 3,4,5, 6 decimal places … The transition .. gets actually  easier …
--- quoted in  James R. Newman, ed. World of Mathematics (1956), p. 2077

Compare further this parable:


[Continued here.]

Sunday, April 7, 2013

Too Much of Nothing

[Note:  This title is an allusion to a Bob Dylan song.  Peter Paul and Mary did a wonderful cover of this, which achieved some airtime, some forty-odd years ago.  But I cannot find it on the Web.  The one older (B&W) video you do find   is not the album version, but a performance that is much more up-tempo, sunnier, and, well, shallower.  The haunting version that still echoes in my mind had strange harmonies and blue-notes, and funky harmonica.  As during the verse:


It’s ALL been done be-fo-ore,
It’s all  been  written  in  a bo-oo-k…
When there's too much of noth-innng
No-bod-y should loo-oo-ook!

The melody of the second line is just a monotone, but the way they rendered it, with tensely close harmony, so that the male and the female voice become indistinguishable -- another voice peels off from the crown and weaves its own magic -- more plaintive, more revival-like, than the versions available now. -- Unless, of course, the song has actually fermented in memory, grown richer over the years as I replayed it in my head, ripening and deepening like a fine red wine…

Anyone who can point me to this version  will earn my gratitude.]

~     ~
  

Gorgias presented his nihilist arguments in On Non-Existence; however, the original text is no longer extant.
-- Wikipedia, re the early Greek sophist

Etienne Gilson reports (La philosophie au Moyen Age, p. 196) re the work of one Frédégise (d. 834),

Epistola de nihilo et tenebris, où il soutient que le néant et les ténèbres  sont quelque chose, et non pas seulement l’absence de quelque chose.

So far, a trifling with words, but:

Il serait absurde de dire: nihil désigne une chose, si l’on admettait  en même temps  que nihil  signifie le néant.  Or, c’est précisément ce que nie Frédégise.  Le nihil auquel il pense  est celui dont Dieu a créé le monde, ex nihilo, c’est-à-dire  une sorte de matière commune et indifférenciée…

That final clause might strike us as a quibble, a bait-and-switch; but it is similar to the once-trending view of cosmogony known as Steady State (though here it was particles coming into being out of nothing, here and there on an ongoing basis);  the contemporary "Universe for Free" idea is a modern version.   Further, the affordances of later mathematics  would allow him to stick with his guns, without smuggling in any ontology via the back door.


*
Travaillant au noir,
le détective  se trouve aux prises
avec le Saint-Esprit

*
Thus consider the empty set -- something with which, once the New Math struck, every schoolchild has been familiar.   Concretely, it is nothing;  but abstractly, it is something, and this, by the same necessary motion of the mind, which considers Laurel and Hardy a pair, over and above the separate existence of Mr. Laurel and Mr. Hardy.  -- So far so vacuous, perhaps; but at least innocent of any theological special pleading.
Yet later mathematicians  contrived to construct the whole of the natural numbers -- and with that, the scaffolding of all that is  or (as it might be) may be -- out of this same empty-set.   One approach (Zermelo) identifies zero with the same; one, with the set containing the empty set;  two, with the set containing that.  Another approach (von Neumann), with more craft, took the empty set, and the set containing (nothing but) the empty set (quite a different thing altogether) -- well, the details are unimportant.  And lest you imagine that such an exercise were the idle fiddling of someone with too much time on their hands, know that John von Neumann was one of the hardest of hard heads; a pioneer of computer science; a mainstay of the Princeton intellectual-social scene; and possessed of clearances  of which you or I can only dream.


The empty set is thus Nothingnes, Reified.  So far -- despite von Neumann’s pulling all of set theory out of an empty hat -- you may be unimpressed.  After all, the use of this term can often be (as Quine likes to put it) “paraphrased away”:  e.g.  “A ∩ B = ” means neither more nor less than “A and B have no elements in common”.  But “experience has shown that the admission of as an actual object  enhances and simplifies the theory” (R. Goldblatt, Topoi , 2nd edn. 1984).

~

For all its humble nothingness, Nothing has an awful lot of distinct names in mathematics.
The empty set itself is known also as the void set.  The set on which a function is zero is its zero set, and the complement of this is its cozero set.
The nullity of an operator is the dimension of its nullspace (or, in the case of a homomorphism of groups, the rank of its kernel).  More exotically:  the Nullstellensatz is a foundation of algebraic geometry.
In an algebraic structure, an element is termed nilpotent if it can be raised to a power to give zero.  This doesn’t mean that the element is ‘powerless’, as the etymology might suggest.  Thus, in the cyclic group of order p^2 (p a prime), p itself is nilpotent since its square is zero;  but it maps every other nonzero element to something nonzero.

Further:


critical point: one where the derivative of the defining function is zero.
zero set: the set of all points mapped to zero by a function
singular (matrix): one whose derivative is zero
closed (differential form): one whose differential is zero
annihilator (of a subspace): the set of all functionals that map the subspace to zero

Cf. also the notion of a “set of measure zero”, which is not quite as zero-y as it sounds, since the ones we are interested in are generally infinite.

~
Etymological footnote.

In his memoirs, Souvenirs d’apprentissage (1991), André Weil, who has much larger accomplishments to his credit, takes a certain satisfaction in having introduced a new symbol for the empty set, which stuck:

Ø
He explains that he took this from the Norwegian alphabet, “et j’étais seul  dans Bourbaki  à le connaître”.

In his droll conspectus of mathematical history, David Berlinski, Infinite Ascent (2005) adds:
To the empty set is reserved the symbol Ø, the figure now in use in daily life to signify access denied -- a symbolic spillover, I suppose, from its original suggestion of a canceled eye.

Note:  A more profound comment  than might initially appear, given the Mediterranean context of the "Evil Eye" ...

 ~

In later Chomskyan linguistics, of the Government-and-Binding variety, "nothing" came to play a very large role indeed.  It came in different flavors -- trace and PRO -- and boasted the Empty Category Principle or ECP  as one of the pillars of the theory.


Yet such Nothings are as rich  as any Something:
So-called ‘empty’ categories  are not devoid of properties;  they are specified for syntactic features.  The term ‘empty’ refers [merely] to the fact that these categories are not associated with phonetic content.
-- Liliane Haegeman, Introduction to Government and Binding Theory (1991),  p. 288

Cf., indeed, Whorf’s celebrated treatment of the phrase/concept “empty gasoline cans”.


~
~  Posthumous Endorsement ~
"Were I alive today, and in the mood for a mystery,
this is what I would be reading: "
(I am Benjamin Lee Whorf, and I approved this message.)
~         ~


~
Epigrams re le néant:

What we understand about God is not nothing; it may even be infinitely much;  but it is a set of measure zero in the larger space of what is true.
-- Dr J, Tischreden


A literary forerunner of the playful paradox “too much of nothing”:

We used to sing together -- in my case very tunelessly. I had inherited a plentiful lack of musical genius from my Mother, who had neither ear nor voice.
-- Edmund Gosse, Father and Son (1907)


Tiens !  Ceci vient à propos:
The Power of Nothing”, by the aptly-named Michael Specter, in the current issue of The New Yorker.


*
Für psychologisch tiefgreifende Krimis,
in pikanter amerikanischer Mundart,
und christlich gesinnt,
klicken Sie bitte hier:

*
I am currently reading a book by Russell Standish, called Theory of Nothing -- basically a way of referring "by duality" to a Theory of Everything.
Rather wittier  is this epigram from a detractor of string theory (as it reaches its Landscape dead-end):  the theory has "gone from being a Theory of Everything, to a Theory of Anything."  I.e., where predictive value is lost, because Anything Goes.

[Update 21 Feb 2012]  And now this:
http://www.nytimes.com/2012/02/21/science/space/cosmologists-try-to-explain-a-universe-springing-from-nothing.html?src=me&ref=general

~

In his substantial general survey of modern philosophy, Roger Scruton is obliged to take notice of the existentialists and phenomenologists.   Appropriately, even delightfully, he places these in a chapter titled “The Devil”.

Heidegger … famously argued that there is something that is true of Nothing, namely that it ‘noths’ (Das Nichts nichtet.)
-- Roger Scruton, Modern Philosophy (1994), p. 458

(Heidegger fiddles with words  like an imbecile playing with his faeces.)

Then on to Sartre and L’Etre et le Néant  (a book I discovered in high school and seized eagerly, having heard that it was hip and rebellious and edgy and kewl -- and was baffled to find that it sux):

Nothingness, he tells us, lies ‘coiled in the heart of Being, like a worm’.  I can encounter Nothing at any juncture:  for example, when I look for someone in a café where I expect to meet him, and he is not there.  The world is suddenly colured by his absence;  and this negative fact has a peculiar reality   all of its own.
But however strange this experience, it is surely not an archetype of evil.  Entering Les Deux Magots to find that Sartre is not there  is one of life’s blessings.
-- id.

~

There is a real sense in which “too much of nothing” applies to basic physics.
Most macroscopic objects behave in ways that do not tip us off to their quantum nature (save as what, for classical physics, was the paradox of the stability of atoms, was ultimately solved or at least frozen by the notion of quantization as applied to electron orbits).  But when we get rid of such objects -- when we attempt to get rid of everything, all matter whatever, and scrape down to the bare vacuum … the striven-for Nothing rebels, and that in the most violent way imaginable.  As a result of the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle -- here, not as an epistemological limitation on ourselves, as (given its title) it is often taken to be, but as a literally creative faculty at the heart of Nature -- the classical featureless vacuum becomes instead the Quantum Foam:  a riot of virtual particles, and topologically  perhaps some nightmare analog of Alexander’s horned sphere.


One stroke of Alexander’s sword
will *not* undo this knot !

Update 25 III 2012]   And on that very topic… a book review in this morning’s NYTimes:  A Universe from Nothing, by Lawrence Krauss.  No new information or argument in this book, apparently;  it all comes down to what the meaning of Nothing is.

The book offers the sort of thing we have repeatedly polemicized against -- and with a “Nyaah nyahh I told you so” Afterword by Richard Dawkins, no less -- but as the reviewer, David Albert, does a fine job himself of polemicizing (“Let me put those niceties aside  and try to be quick, crude, and concrete” -- You go, guy, gloves off!) your correspondent can maintain his decorous Sunday Lenten silence, and merely link.
(The online site unaccountably buries the article, so this is something of a public service.)


The subtitle of the book under review is “Why there is Something Rather than Nothing”.
Our own remarks on the matter  can be consulted  here:



[Update 7 April 2012]  Krauss provides a summary of his views here:

Arts & Letters Daily provides a typically bone-headed teaser in its link to the article:
"Physics has undermined logic. Even nothingness is not what it seemed. The universe is devoid of meaning. That’s not such a bad thing."

*     *     *
~ Commercial break ~
Relief for beleaguered Nook lovers!
We now return you to your regularly scheduled essay.

*     *     *

[Update  25 April 2012]  They’re at it  again
ALDaily, shilling for nihilism, links to an interview with Krauss in the Atlantic , with this come-on:
More and more, physics is encroaching on philosophy. No surprise that philosophers feel threatened. They should, says Lawrence Krauss. Science progresses, and philosophy doesn’t.

As for the actual article … you can’t make this stuff up.  Their roving reporter just happened to hook up with the distinguished nihilist as he was coming from … a memorial service for professional atheist Christopher Hitchens.
If I were to write that, you’d think it was unfair satire.

[Update 10 June 2012] Jim Holt on l'affaire Krauss:


A KERFUFFLE has broken out between philosophy and physics. It began earlier this spring when a philosopher (David Albert) gave a sharply negative review in this paper to a book by a physicist (Lawrence Krauss) that purported to solve, by purely scientific means, the mystery of the universe’s existence. The physicist responded to the review by calling the philosopher who wrote it “moronic” and arguing that philosophy, unlike physics, makes no progress and is rather boring, if not totally useless.


 [Update 30 September 2012]   Crashaw, “On Hope”:

Dear Hope! Earth’s dowry, and Heaven’s debt,
the entity of things that are not yet.
Subtlest, but surest being!  Thou by whom
our Nothing hath a definition.

(Note for scansion:  definition is here quinquesyllabic.  -- As is, indeed, the word quinquesyllabic itself.)


 ~

More on the vicissitudes of Nothing in mathematics.

In  the introduction to Timothy Gowers, ed., The Princeton Companion to Mathematics (2008), p. 14, we are presented with the following syllogism:

* Nothing is better than lifelong happiness.
* But a cheese sandwich is better than nothing.
* Therefore, a cheese sandwich is better than lifelong happiness.

Nobody buys that;  but it’s hard to put your finger on where the reasoning goes off the rails.   The author rewords the first proposition as

For all x, lifelong happiness is at least as good as x.

Here the seeming noun nothing was covertly a quantifier.   Whereas  “the second sentence cannot be rewritten in these terms  because the word nothing is not playing the role of a quantifier.  Its nearest mathematical equivalent is something like the empty set.”


~

In a single review from March 25, 2001, the New York Times Book Review treats together  the following three titles:

THE BOOK OF NOTHING
Vacuums, Voids, and the Latest Ideas about the Origins of the Universe
By John D. Barrow

ZERO
The Biography of a Dangerous Idea
By Charles Seife


THE NOTHING THAT IS
A Natural History of Zero
By Robert Kaplan