Showing posts with label L.E.J.Brouwer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label L.E.J.Brouwer. Show all posts

Sunday, June 12, 2016

Constructivist Angelology



But yet when considered, may help us to enlarge our thoughts  towards greater perfections of it  in superior ranks of spirits. … The several degrees of angels  may probably have larger views.
-- John Locke, An Essay Concerning Human Understanding (1690)



Man’s understanding, though allied to the angelical, operates differently.  The angels understand intuitively, man by the painful use of the discursive reason.
-- E. Tillyard, The Elizabethan World Picture (1942)

It is presumably not obvious to the chimpanzee (or, if this be setting his smarts too low, to the humble woodchuck) that for all m, n in Z, m + n = n + m.  Nevertheless, in his daily scurryings and burrowings, he will repeatedly meet up with particular instantiations of this modest truth.
            For the woodchuck (at any event the southern northeastern lesser striped variety) builds a number of nests and other temporary dwellings, each of which has the framework of a variously triangulated  polyhedron, built tinkertoy-fashion from a fixed number of sticks.  Now, gathering them one by one would take too long, nor can the tidy woodchuck stand to have any sticks left over.  So when constructing his summer dwelling -- an icosahedron, which needs thirty sticks (did I get that right? My calculating powers are not much beyond those of a woodchuck) -- he normally harvests a jubjub bush, which has twenty-two sticks of exactly the right specs and which blooms in the spring, then rounds it out with the eight-sticked glubglub bush, which sprouts slightly later. 
But then one year, the blooming of the jubjub was delayed, and the woodchucks despaired.  All but one, the enterprising Willie, who went doggedly (or groundhoggishly) ahead  and harvested the available glubglub, supplementing this  when the jubjub arrived slightly later.  This remarkable exploit was recorded in the annals: for 22 then 8, one may substitute 8 then 22.
            It was subsequently found that a mubmub bush (18 sticks) followed by a nubnub bush (12) would do just as well – und zwar, in either order!  This fact too was recorded.
            The years went by, then the centuries, and the millennia, and the annals grew to seven times seventy stout volumes, densely filled with such arcana as: a cube-for-cubs may be constructed of a lublub (7) plus a rubrub (5), and this in either order; and so on for billions of examples.  All this was considered a branch of botany, a purely empirical science.
            By this means, the woodchucks arrived at an analogue of Babylonian mathematics.

Interlude:   A physicist depicts the arithmetical state-of-play in a papyrus from Egyptian/Babylonian times:

It records the resolution of a great number of fractions  into a sum of aliquot parts,  the original numerator always being 2:  as, for instance,

2/97 = 1/56 + 1/679 + 1/776

But no rules are given for effecting such resolutions, and the whole treatise seems to be a mere compendium of results obtained by repeated trials.
-- James Jeans, The Growth of Physical Science (1947 [posthum.]; 2nd edn. 1951), p. 11

            Until one day one Wisedome Woodchuck, a distant descendant of Willie, figured the whole thing out, and in a remarkable demonstration of only eighty pages (rather hard to follow, but sound), showed that m + n = n + m  was a perfectly general fact, replacing the seven-times-seventy volumes at a stroke, and freeing up his brethren for yet further architectural innovations, which previously had been shunned, as their particulars were not yet in the book.  The annals were placed in a museum, which the elder woodchucks might still visit, marveling at favorite exhibits (as who could forget that remarkable winter, when 5,878 + 519 turned out to be equal to 519 + 5,878?  A tour de force!). Meanwhile generations of young woodchucks (the pride and despair of their parents, who could not follow them into Canaan, with their aging brains) studied Wisedome’s proof, breaking their little heads against it.

           
Meanwhile in Metropolis… The humans, learning of this, politely saluted Wisedome’s modest accomplishment, and experienced a pang of sympathy for woodchuck-kind; yet felt no inclination to visit their Museum of Particular Results: for which they felt, indeed, a kind of horror.  And even the general result, while true, is somehow to us not truly interesting. In any case we are all too busy wrestling with the Riemann Hypothesis, to have time to look back.

Meanwhile in Elysium, where throne the angels sensu strictior, the lowest order of angelic beings sensu lato, a mock compliment is paid to Andrew Wiles, who finally figured out that little Fermat puzzle, with which the angel-kind  are wont to amuse the nursery.  Not that the angels arrived earlier at his proof, nor any refinement thereof.  They simply scoop up a few infinities of integers with their fractal fingers, twist them this way and that—and see, it doesn’t fit!  Simple.
            Moreover, all facts about all structures of ordinal type omega, whether or not deducible by any finite axiomatization, are equally transparent to the angels. They just look.

            So, is Elysium the mathematical Paradise?  Not quite…

            In a remarkably lucid and accessible article*, which should be packed into every pupil’s lunchbox by a considerate mom, Gödel observes that our continuing failure to resolve Cantor’s continuum problem, left over from the previous century, is quite an embarrassment.  It means that we are unable to wrap our minds around the very simplest multiplication problem possible, beyond the finite ones that these days can scarcely stump a woodchuck. Namely, two times two (times two, times two – keep going).  He writes:
            “It is easily proved that the power of the continuum is equal to 2^(aleph-nought). So the continuum problem turns out to be a question from the ‘multiplication table’ of cardinal numbers: namely, the problem of evaluating a certain infinite product (in fact the simplest non-trivial one that can be formed).  There is, however, not one infinite product (of factors > 1) for which so much as an upper bound for its value can be assigned. […] It is not even known whether or not m < n implies 2^m < 2^n.” 
            We are  so to speak  staring helplessly  at a pile of sticks.

            Nor does the subsequent Cantor+Cohen demonstration of the independence of the continuum hypothesis  from a particular system of axioms for set theory   set the matter aside. Gödel had already anticipated Cohen’s result, and wrote:

A proof of the undecidability of Cantor’s conjecture from the accepted axioms of set theory (in contradistinction, e.g., to the proof of the transcendency of pi) would by no means solve the problem.  For if the meanings of the primitive terms of set theory … are accepted as sound, it follows that the set-theoretical concepts and theorems describe some well-determined reality, in which Cantor’s conjecture must either be true or false.

            Indeed Gödel suspects that the Cantor conjecture is actually, factually false: which means that somewhere, among the actual literal real numbers, there is hiding a set of cardinality intermediate between aleph-nought and its power set, with definite members which the angels could name.  Not, however, the lowest order thereof; this lies beyond them.  But at the next step up, the archangels hang these sets from mobiles over their infants’ cribs.  In fact a woodchuck may somewhere inadvertantly have used one of these sets for nesting materials, and even now lies sleeping on it – a night of troubled dreams.

            So much for a simple pancake-stack of omega-many deuces – the limit of the lower-angels’ ken.  What about the square root of omega-to-the-omega; or cross sections of fibre bundles on toroidal cap-omega-cross-theta space? For each level of angels, there will be something beyond them that they just don’t get.

*

There are two poles of the range of approaches to the problem of infinities.  One is that of the badger-like Brouwer, who simply sweeps the chessmen to the floor, folds up the board and goes home.  (An only somewhat more amenable figure, says Gödel, is Weyl, who allows as how there might be something to board games, but suggests we play checkers – or Chutes ‘n Ladders – rather than chess.)  The other pole says:  Infinities are tricky, but they all exist, and are present to the Infinite Mind. Gödel himself uses that term, e.g. noting that Ramsey’s admission of formulae of (countably) infinite length  might be constructivistic for an infinite mind  but not for our own.  Gödel does not, however, seem to feel much need for any desperate appeal to such a mind, in the course of an ordinary day, since he -- like Badger’s amiable friend the Water-Rat-- is a thoroughgoing Realist, and comfortable as such in his own skin.  For him the assumption of infinite classes “is quite as legitimate as the assumption of physical bodies, and there is quite as much reason to believe in their existence.”  The outwardly gloomy Austrian  is really the jolly Dr. Johnson of set theory.
            Only now there’s a problem, of a sort which did not confront the schoolmen, who never counted on the uncountable:  the Infinite Mind is all very well, but -- Which infinity did you have in mind?
            Who comprehends *everything*? God does, by definition. Yet He cannot be simply the crown on a tower of constructively ascending intelligences.  He is like an “inaccessible cardinal” – and not the first.  Nor perhaps ‘the last’, if there is no last.  Whatever He might be, there is Cantor in the wings, grinning, waiting to perform a Power Set on God, yielding – what?  -- Nothing one can begin to commence to pretend that we can approach with our sadly finite understanding.

            All of which suggests, if nothing else does,  that God is something more and other than an alternately wrathful and affectionate granddad  with a perfectly enormous white beard – however much longer that beard might be, than the stubble which disfigures your chin or mine.  Who one day, apparently from sheer idleness, as one might choose chocolate, chose the Jews.  Who later, some say, cast a Jove-like eye  on a certain Palestinian virgin.  And who at present is very angry indeed with the Democrats (or the Ravens, or whomever).  Yet what He in fact might be, we cannot even begin to imagine anyone’s beginning to conceive.  (Cf. the suggestion of 1 Kings 8:27  that the heavens themselves have heavens (and so on up); and that the whole omega-tower of them  cannot encompass God.)

*     *     *
~ Commercial break ~
We now return you to your regularly scheduled essay.

*     *     *
            We actually wind up with a sort of hamstringing of the Ontological Argument. Notoriously its conclusion does not really follow from its premise;  but now even its premise limps: “Since we can imagine a Perfect Being…”  But that’s just it, we can’t!  Not even little infinite bits of one! Yet paradoxically (and God reportedly loves paradox – at least Chesterton does, His publicity agent on Earth), this seeming stomping on the prostrate corpse of the offspring of Anselm, this despairing cry that somehow even Infinity does not suffice, so far from opening the agora  to legions of snickering atheists chanting “Toleja so!”, points somehow upward, -- outward,   -- onward ….  Praise Him!


Postscript:
John Locke himself, normally regarded as the Poster Boy for Empiricism, of I'm-from-Missouri common-sensicality, yet delivers himself of this (Essay, III.vi.12):
That there should be more species of intelligent creatures above us, than there are of sensible and material below us, is probable to me from hence:  that in all the visible corporeal world, we see no chasms, or gaps.

That is to say:  The gap between ourselves, and God, must somehow be filled, according to the Principle of Plenitude.


And again (IV.iii.23):

He that will consider the infinite power … of the Creator of all things, will find reason to think, it was not all laid out upon so inconsiderable, mean, and impotent a creature, as he will find man to be;  who  in all probability, is one of the lowest of all intellectual beings …
Angels of all sorts are naturally beyond our discovery, and all those intelligences, whereof ‘tis likely there are more orders than of corporeal substances, are things, whereof our natural faculties give us no certain account at all.

Since theism is far from central to Locke’s Essay, it is curious to see the emphasis on this scala naturae idea.

--------------
*”What is Cantor’s Continuum Problem?”, repr. Benacerraf & Putnam, eds., Philosophy of Mathematics.

~

Postscript:  For the possibility that the structure of certain mathematical truths relating to an infinite domain  might resist any but a case-by-case “Babylonian” approach, cf. the quotation from Michael Dummett towards the end of this post:


Compare further (re ascending ranks of abstraction and generality):


.


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


.

Friday, March 6, 2015

Internal, External, Universal


[Today’s theologico-mathematical analogy may be stretched, far-fetched;  but ‘tis the Lord’s day, a time meet for meditation  more at large.

For more extensive reflections, focusing on Realism in both domains, consult the essay series that begins here.]

~

Instead of defining the properties of a collection by reference to its members -- its internal  structure -- one can proceed by reference to its external relationships with other collections.
-- R. Goldblatt, Topoi , 2nd edn. 1984

I am reminded of the Christian critique of narcissistic individualism, so telling for our own day, when it has become a very plague, both sapping the individual character, and corrupting the polity as it forms an algal bloom as identity politics.  This view was made more acute, and very contemporary, by C.S.Lewis in The Four Loves and elsewhere, with its metaphor that health lies neither in religious solipsism (the “inner light”, which he decries) nor in that solipsism-à-deux of “looking into each other’s eyes”, but rather in mutually apprehending some external thing, of which we each see aspects, though along different sight-lines.

There are traditional notions of something large and out-there, above us and beyond us;  but these are vague and unstructured, and have perhaps grown stale through overfamiliarity (though we have never understood them well enough to have leave to dismiss them out of hand).   So let us turn to consider a mathematical notion of something containing -- something larger than what you started with, yet perfectly contained within itself:  not spreading over us like a fog, but rounding us out.  The technical name for this is comforting, downright cozy:  compactification.  (The Water Rat of Wind in the Willows  pictures his snug and tidy den.)

Compactness has turned out to be one of the most central notions of topology, a field which itself is about as central as you can get.  For details, see Wikipedia (that paradisal repository of all that is known, or could ever be known);  but the takeaway is, that it is a quite vaunting generalization of the idea of finiteness.  Such spaces are nice to work with.

Thus for instance:  consider the open interval (0,1).  It is not too intimidating (apart from its harbored continuum), but it is irksomely incomplete, in that a well-regulated sequence of points -- ½,¼, 1/8 … -- can march off towards nullity,  yet nullity they find not, nor unity neither  should they march the other way.  We can complete this space, and simultaneously compactify it, in an obvious way:  just add the points zero and one at either end, to get the closed interval [0,1].  Now all is well.
But there exists a less obvious kind of compactification, involving the addition of but one point (we pause, that you might wonder:  Yet how can this thing be?).  In turns out to be deeper, in that such a one-point compactification (via Alexandroff extension) is available for any locally compact Hausdorff space.  In the simple case of our open interval, conceptually you add a point at one end and bend the segment around to meet it.  The result is a little ring:  like all round things, it is ever so perfect and pleasing.

And our pleasure at this maneuver  is more than aesthetic, for the move applies as well to the entire real line R.  This space is complete in the standard Cauchy-sequence sense, yet it too is “incomplete” in a way, namely, in the sense that an infinite sequence might have no convergent subsequence (R is not 'sequentially compact', as they say in the trade):  the series (such as 1,2,3, …) may march off forever towards infinity, but “infinity isn’t there”.  We can both ‘complete’ and compactify it  by adding a “point at infinity”, replacing the standard metric with a bounded one (the resulting space being homeomorphic to what we started with), and then “round it around” to a ring-shape as before.
You see where we’re going with this.
Ah, but do you.  For mathematics has latterly progressed in ways considerably more intricate than simply sharpening our intuitions of infinity, so that, when we say that “God is infinite”, we can have something much more incisive in mind than simply “way bigger than an elephant”, with which our grandsires had to make do.  For geometry has been algebrized: beginning with Descartes, but zooming off in unexpected new directions with algebraic topology.


We have seen that there are varying ways of compactifying a given space.  In the context of Universal Algebra, a question arises:  For any given space, is there one way that is, in some sense, universal or canonical -- the “Mother of all compactifications” (to speak with Saddam Hussein)?  Indeed there is:  it is known as the Stone–Čech compactification. The result is universal in that any continuous map whatever, from our original space to a compact Hausdorff space, can be factored through the Stone–Čech compactification.  (Thus, the closure of (0,1) into [0,1] does not rate as Stone–Čech, since e.g. sin (1/x), defined on the open interval, does not extend to the closed.) -- Whoever can grasp this, will never consort with Nominalists again.
We have considered this matter in a particular area of point-set topology, but the notion of universality, as made precise by this notion of lifting a given map to procede through the universal, is quite general -- hair-raisingly general, in fact.  In general, “a morphism [is said to be] universal  [iff]  any other morphism into a system with this property  factors uniquely through the universal morphism.” (Saunders MacLane & Garrett Birkhoff, Algebra (1967; 3rd edn. 1999), p. 129.)

~   ~   ~

So much for the math.  And now for our dominical metaphor, offered in all humility.
We are, according to Scripture, but now also in a sense which might possibly someday be made relatively precise, made in (or better:  from) the image of our Maker.  Only, not visually (that were absurd, and gives rise to all the idolatries), nor yet (abstractly, or spiritually) isomorphically,  but rather: homomorphic images, of various types and sizes.  (Bonus:  homomorphic now becomes a graeco-latin pun.)  Whatever can apply to us, can apply to and through Him, in a manner made familiar by Category Theory.
And by what seems a kind of anticipation of the functorial view, the Historical Church chose precisely universality as its defining epithet:  catholicus.

(Yet who are these, streaming across the blasted landscape in despair, the wretched remnants of their mockeries  strapped to their backs?  Why, ‘tis the very tribe of atheists, quite put to flight!)

Within Set Theory, there is a notion reminiscent of all this:  the Reflection Principle.  It is very counterintuitive -- but then, so is life.

~

Appended Epigram
That God is simply the sum of All that Is, is mere pantheism.  We shall posit rather, that He is its Stone–Čech compactification. 

(Here we tread, not on dangerous, but on spongy ground, the sort that led into the swamp of the ‘God particle’.
Various defenses spring to mind, but I have a feeling that they are self-serving.  Taceamus igitur.)



Similar to our image of the lower thing being the homomorphic image of the higher:

The highest things often have “footprints”, as the medievals put it, among the lower things.
-- James Schall, S.J., The Order of Things (2007), p. 22

~

(All right, now we do something very wrong.  But my character, sapped by whoring after epigrams -- e’en as the bard  was slain by a pun --  cannot resist.
An early post against ultra-Darwinism  mentioned -- purely in passing -- the Urysohn Metrization Theorem;  after which, to my embarrassment, this site received a number of serious enquiries after that worthy result.   Actually  it was kind of cool.  And so, to accommodate surfers who are mathematically advanced but lousy spellers, we add these:
Stone-Cech
Stone-Čeck
Stone-Ček
Stone-Czech
Stone-check
Stone- tchèque
Stone-Tscheck
pStone-pČech  [the p is silent ...])


~ ~ ~

All that is rather by way of somewhat remedying the obvious insufficiences of St Anselm’s Ontological Argument, while yet retaining sympathy with his project.

The images/metaphors  of the Scala Naturae, and the Ladder of Abstraction, both point ever-upwards, as if to some final lodestar or ultimate Utmost, without  of course  proving the existence of any such thing.  There is also something empirically amiss, in that both visions are linear -- and reality is generally not like that.    More to the point would be Partially Ordered Sets -- and that gets us straight to the door of Zorn’s lemma:

Suppose a partially ordered set P has the property that every totally ordered subset has an upper bound in P. Then the set P contains at least one maximal element.

Now, that Maximal Element -- remind you of Anyone?

Stairway to Paradise




This is a more robust analogy than that of the long extension-ladder, but it probably won’t buy us anything of theological import.   Note in particular that the various upper bounds referred to must lie in P:   P is already complete.   Whereas a simile for the Godhead would more likely be along the lines of Inaccessible Cardinals, or Proper Classes,  ever beyond iterative reach.

C.S. Lewis drops a remarkable aside, in the final paragraph of his essay “The Language of Religion”:

I sometimes wonder whether the Ontological Argument did not itself arise as a partially unsuccessful translation of an experience without concepts or words.
-- Christian Reflections (1967), p. 141


(Nota bene:  There are intellectual as well as emotional such experiences, as in mathematical insight -- at least, without words.  Brouwer once characterized mathematics as “an essentially languageless activity of the mind”.
More here.)

Lewis’s essay, incidentally, is  gem, developing at length  an idea he has often sketched, concerning the evolving adequacy of language to non-everyday puzzles like theology and math.  In that spirit, we have offered a couple of vizualizable new analogies to play around with:  Universal Compactification, and Partially Ordered Sets.



Lewis’s linguistic point is continuous with his opposition to intellectual “Whig history”.   Thus, if our ancestors spoke of God as though He had a white beard, and depicted him this way in art, it is not because they were morons;  indeed, such a depiction did not, at the time, constitute an asserted denial of the thesis that God is incorporeal:  for that later thesis simply lies (intellectually and chronologically) beyond the original level of discussion.
(In similar fashion, if I state that “the red vehicle was stationary at the time of the collision", that is not meant to deny the thesis that the earth rotates on its axis, and moreover revolves around the sun.)

Exactly the same point can be made with respect to the praxis of mathematics.  (I mean its ever-evolving practice by actual mathematicians, rather than the arguably  timeless, transcendental truths of Mathematics itself, as it resides in the mind of the Creator.)


Thus, Wikipedia (re Imre Lakatos):

Lakatos re-examines the history of the calculus, with special regard to Augustin-Louis Cauchy and the concept of uniform convergence, in the light of non-standard analysis. Lakatos is concerned that historians of mathematics should not judge the evolution of mathematics in terms of currently fashionable theories. As an illustration, he examines Cauchy's proof that the sum of a series of continuous functions is itself continuous. Lakatos is critical of those who would see Cauchy's proof, with its failure to make explicit a suitable convergence hypothesis, merely as an inadequate approach to Weierstrassian analysis. Lakatos sees in such an approach a failure to realize that Cauchy's concept of the continuum differed from currently dominant views.


Lakatos’ dialectical insights are worked out at length in the multisided dialogue (a ‘polygonal’ conversation, as it were), Proofs and Refutations.


[Update April 2017]  I had rather hoped to have added a “Footnote to CSL” with that shtick about creatures as homomorphic images (of various cuts and complexity) of their Creator, a more flexible metaphor than Lewis’ example of the faces of a cube.  But upon re-reading his essay “Transposition”, I learn that Transposition is his term for much the same thing -- he even uses the term algebraic in that connection.  The whole idea is worked-out exquisitely in that place.