The Ontology of Geology (updated)

The notion of ‘ontology’ does not loom large in the science of geology.   In part, this is because geology is wedded to geological history, which, as in the case of its human counterpart, does not self-dissect neatly into freestanding classes of elements.  Further, even synchronically,  the various rocks and minerals don’t form anything like the brilliantly ordered structure of the Periodic Chart of the Elements.

Still, as a finger-exercise, joining our “The Ontology of …" hit-parade --

http://worldofdrjustice.blogspot.com/2011/10/ontology-of-physics.html

http://worldofdrjustice.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-ontology-of-biology-mise-jour.html

http://worldofdrjustice.blogspot.com/2012/04/ontology-of-logic-updated.html

http://worldofdrjustice.blogspot.com/2011/01/ontologia-numerorum.html

http://worldofdrjustice.blogspot.com/2013/06/the-ontology-of-psychology.html

-- we try our hand at it here.

Consider orology:  study of the structure and genesis of mountains.

Notoriously (this is a chestnut within semantics), the notion ‘mountain’ is vague in two quite different ways:  (1)  what counts as a single mountain, rather than a blip in a ridge;  (2) what counts as a mountain at all, rather than a hill or ‘eminence’.

Those perplexities concern only the most superficial aspect of a mountain, its size.  More significant in terms of geology as a science (as opposed to landscape painting) are the structure and placement of mountains, both of which are strongly effected by their orogeny -- volcanic versus non-volcanic mountains are quite different critters;  it is only an accident that we use the same word for each.

Thus, this scoffing, from our preëminent bard of geology:

We came to an escarpment known as White Mountain.  .. In no tectonic sense was this a true mountain -- a folded-and-faulted, volcanic, or overthrust mountain.  This was just a Catskill, a Pocono, a water-sliced segment of layered flat rock, a geological piece of cake.

-- John McPhee, Annals of the Former World (1998), p. 410

Similarly, the idea of a ‘continent’ :  (1) what counts as a single continent (is Eurasia one or two?)  (2) what counts as a continent at all, rather than an island or atoll.  Thus, Australia, the “Pluto” of the continental system.  (Or, more subtley and structurally, Cyprus.)

Only with tectonics did the notion of a continent  become crisp and interesting.

It was realized later that the true edges of the continents lay  not where the shorelines happened to be, but at the edges of the continental slabs themselves, below sea level.

-- Richard Fortey, Earth (2004), p. 142

The tectonic criteria in hand, it was then concluded that, 200 years ago, theory required a meta-entity, Gondwana, a  supercontinent, consisting of several that are separate today.  -- At the opposite end of the spectrum, John McPhee at one point refers (perhaps humorously) to a “micro-continent”, which would be a reductio ad absurdum for the notion of “continent” as an ontological peg-point in geology.

More fundamental than continents are the tectonic plates, which are dynamically better defined.   A somewhat similar concept that has risen into prominence in later days is the terrane.   Here, too, in is possible in practice to proliferate entities beyond necessity, a practice about which some geologists are

… Homicidal in their sarcasm.  … In the geology of such [ontologically profligate] people, it is said, a microterrane is a field area, a nanoterrane is an outcrop, a picoterrane is a hand specimen, and a femtoterrane  is a thin section.

-- John McPhee, Annals of the Former World (1998), p. 511

“Femtoterrane” -- that’s funny.

~

A further problem with plates is that they are of disputed reality in the pre-Cambrian times prior to the Proterozoic -- the Archaean.  A unique continuity obtains at the juncture of those eons:

“The Archean-Proterozoic transition is a real threshold in the behavior of earth.  .. If you want to define plate tectonis  strictly on the modern model, then you have to coin another term for the Archean tectonics.”

-- John McPhee, Annals of the Former World (1998), p. 633-4

The Ontology of History (updated)

The pageant of all that has happened is, to begin with, a blooming buzzing confusion.   Historically, one aim of the chronicler has been to slice up some of it, and dress it up into a narrative that will be entertaining or edifying for the audience.  More analytically-minded historians (such as Ibn Khaldun and his successors) have set themselves an additional task:  To make sense of it.

ابن خلدون

A wide-ranging comparative historian acknowledges the wealth of data which confront the historiographer, but

The “intelligible fields of study”, the comparable units of history, remain inconveniently few for the application of the scientific technique.

-- Arnold Toynbee, A Study of History (12 volumes; 1934-61; introduction, last paragraph)

One classic move is to organize the ever-mingling, ever-onrushing flow of events  into coherent thematic chunks;  as:  the Dark Ages; the Renaissance; the Reformation;  the Enlightenment.   Others refer to calendric stretches but, if so, normally must modify the defining termini a quo and ante quem  to reflect actual historical development:  thus, “the long nineteenth century” (which lasted into the Edwardian autumn, and winked out forever at Sarajevo), and “the Sixties”,  which  in the good sense  began with JFK’s election, and  in the bad sense  with his assassination;  and then petered out ignobly in the early seventies.

Anyhow, huge subject, won’t treat it here, but merely serve up a couple of quotes specifically related to Islamic historiography -- thus posting at least a place-holder for the topic, in our wildly successful “Ontology of …” series (soon to be featured on bubble-gum cards, suitable for trading).

“Classic” or “classical period” is likewise a construct, all the more obviously so  since it is being borrowed from one phenomenon, Greek and Roman antiquity, and used to somehow periodize another quite different one, Islam.

-- F. E. Peters, preface to A Reader on Classical Islam (1994)

History is a seamless garment;  periodization is a convenience of the historian, not a fact of the historical process.  By choosing carefully, one can slant history without any resort to actual falsehood.  For example, a writer on relations between the United States and Japan can start with Hiroshima, or he can start with Pearl Harbor.

-- Bernard Lewis, “In Defense of History” (1997/1999), reprinted in From Babel to Dragomans (2004), p. 389

He goes on to make an exact parallel with the historiography of the Crusades, of intense current relevance, but too hot to handle in this space;  consult the (excellent) original article.

The essential human unit  in which man’s nature is fully realised  is not the individual, [n]or a voluntary association which can be dissolved or altered or abandoned at will, but  the nation.

--Isaiah Berlin, “Nationalism”, repr. in Against the Current (1979), p. 342

(Cf. individual vs. group selection  in Darwinism.)

[Afternote] We sometimes also find explanatory periodization, not by historians, but by the people themselves:

The Aztecs … sought relief … from the oppressive idea of eternity, by breaking it up into distinct cycles … each of several thousand years’ duration.  There were four of these cycles;  and at the end of each, by the agency of the elements, the human family was swept from the earth, and the sun blotted out from the heavens, to be again rekindled.

-- William Prescott, History of the Conquest of Mexico (1843), p. 53

~

Glanced at above is the internal ontology of historiography -- its structure and staffage.  There is also the matter of its external ontology -- how it fits in with other disciplines.

“History is an art, like the other sciences,” a felicitious paradoxical epigram crafted by Veronica Wedgwood.

--John Lukacs, The Future of History (2011), p. 81

.

Ontological discontinuity (at the nether end)

As was known to all until perhaps the 18^th century (when certain mechanists would strive to deny it, as do certain homunculi  even in our own day), there is an ontological discontinuity between Man and Beast; a matter touched upon here.  But what is the case, within the order of the Beasts;  or indeed, between the least of these, and the mere madness of atoms?

We have  from time to time  penned odd little poems, or perplexing parables,  which in fact do seek to glimpse that phase-change, from random atoms  to the least of God’s creatures -- the infinum of the scala naturae.  For a representative sample, try this:

https://worldofdrjustice.blogspot.com/2012/10/gabriels-pep-talk-to-bugs.html

For the full roster of such things, here:

https://worldofdrjustice.blogspot.com/search/label/bugs

Dedekind on ontology

[A footnote to this essay.]

Footnote re the irrationals:

Dedekind stressed the distinction of category  between cut and number  in 1888; against the view of his friend Heinrich Weber  that “the irrational number is nothing other than the cut itself”, he explained that “as I prefer it, to create something New distinct from the cut, to which the cut corresponds.  We have the right to grant ourselves such power of creation”,  and cuts corresponding to both rational and irrational numbers were examples.

-- Grattan-Guinness, The Search for Mathematical Roots 1870 - 1940 (2000), p. 87

A seemingly slight, even pedantic distinction;  but like many another such, it might have its point.   Cf. my astonished delight in junior high-school, upon meeting the distinction between  x (the thing itself) and ‘x’ (the name of x) -- already adequately foreshadowed in Alice in Wonderland, but encountered now in a new context.  Likewise the difference between  x and {x} (the singleton-set of x).

In the case of an algebraic number like √2, a simple number staring you in the face out of a hypotenuse  versus the infinite train of rational pilgrims (never quite arriving at their destination) of a Dedekind cut,  one is reminded of the variety of definitions of something so familiar as a tangent:  the slope of a curve (at a point); the closest linear approximation to the curve (at that point); versus the distressing definition in Loomis & Sternberg as an infinite equivalence-class of curves (through that point).

http://worldofdrjustice.blogspot.com/2012/02/on-rounding-out.html

The Continuum: Mainstay or Menace? (erweitert)

The Continuum:  the original sin, from whose fecund loins
came all that is non-constructive in mathematics.

-- Anon.

Kronecker dismissed mathematical entities beyond the natural numbers as “Menschenwerk”.  An average practicing mathematician (who uses such entities all the time) may  agree with him to this extent:

(1)  Our intuitions about the natural numbers are clear and solid.   So long, indeed, as one deals only with some set of actual numbers (thus, a finite set), nothing especially surprising  or even all that interesting  turns up.  If we extend our horizon to the actual infinite of the set of all natural numbers, we meet some concepts that take getting used to (Hilbert's hotel):  but once we’ve done so, they seem natural enough.

(2) The rationals and negative integers  definitely, the algebraic numbers  probably, pretty much come along for the ride (that is, you can hardly exclude them once you’ve accepted N), and they still bring in no paradox – being, after all, of the same cardinality as the natural numbers themselves.  Though, a case could be made that these are not “entities” of the same standing as the integers, which in a sense we can hold in our hands (embodied in oranges, say), but rather abbreviations for operations on integers.  Thus, we cannot hold minus-two oranges in our hands; minus-two is not a thing, but a bookkeeping device. 

(3)  The real numbers, by contrast, are … a piece of work.  Maybe even Menschen-work, except that one could hardly imagine Menschen coming up with anything so intricate and even bizarre.  Their very cardinality baffles intuition  -- and the independence of the continuum hypothesis  shows that we are right to be baffled.  [Note:  The simple infinity of the integers already baffles *untutored* intuition;  but eventually you get the idea.  Click on the Label "Hilbert's Hotel" for further exemplification.  Whereas, the cardinality of the continuum is more like... Hilbert's Nightmare...] All sorts of queasy consequences arrive for simple quantification (cf. Quine re.  objectual vs. substitutional quantification).  The reals were invented (discovered?) for purposes of analysis, which in turn was developed largely for the sake of physics: but it now appears that physics (whether in its quantum cast, where Uncertainty provides a certain indissoluble granularity; or in the Wolframesque finite-automata approach) might not actually require, or afford, a continuum.

And yet standard mathematics speaks indeed ontologically of the reals, not merely pragmatically.  Thus for instance, Rudin’s standard text (Principles of Mathematical Analysis, 3^rd edn. 1976, p. 8):

We now state the existence theorem [emphasis in original] which is the core of this chapter.

Theorem. There exists an ordered field R which has the least-upper-bound property.

The author then mentions that the proof actually constructs the Reals out of the Rationals.  This is, of course, the most solid sort of proof of all – not one of those Cantorian diagonalization thingies that has you winding up assenting to the Infinite Woodchuck, without ever quite knowing how you got into such a fix.  It gives you an actual recipe for the construction of these extended numbers, as concrete and explicit as for baking a cake.  And yet… all kinds of things can be thus “constructed”, at will, including items which presumably are not part of the furniture of the universe, in the sense that angels actually sit on them.

~

A roaring vote of confidence in the continuum  is voiced by the noted mathematician René Thom:

“God created the integers and the rest is the work of man.”  This maxim spoken by the algebraist Kronecker  reveals more about his past as a banker who grew rich through monetary speculation  than about his philosophical insight.  There is hardly any doubt that, from a psychological and, for the writer, ontological point of view, the geometric continuum is the primordial entity.

-- “’Modern’ Mathematics: An Educational and Philosophic Error?”, in American Scientist (1971), repr. in Thomas Tymoczko, ed., New Directions in the Philosophy of Mathematics (1986, rev. 1998), p. 74.

That is in-your-face Platonism, with which, quâ Realism, we have no quarrel.  But the psychological claim seems dubious:  Our intuition of the continuum is probably no more than a vague notion of a smear (and not very infinite at that, neither going out nor going down).   And as for the ontology … When we first meet the Real numbers mathematically (that was the very first thing we did in first-year calculus, with the opening chapter of Spivak’s text), we conceive them as the completion of the rationals.  And such they are indeed:  only, with respect to the metric provided by the absolute value.   With a p-adic valuation, you get a different completion of the rationals, the p-adic numbers.   Lastly, the surreal numbers augment the continuum in yet a different unexpected direction.  (I have less than no intuition about any of this.)

The physicist Schrödinger is less sure:

The idea of a continuous range, so familiar to mathematicians in our days, is something quite exorbitant, an enormous extrapolation of what is really accessible to us.

-- Erwin Schrõdinger, “Causality and Wave Mechanics”, repr. in translation in: James R. Newman, ed. World of Mathematics (1956), p. 1059

And from an Intuitionist (close kin to a physicist):

This could be done  by seeing the continuum as something that is infinitely becoming, instead of already being.

-- Dennis Hesseling, Gnomes in the Fog:  The Reception of Brower’s Intuitionism in the 1920s (2003), p. 333

(Compare our old friend the actio/actum distinction.)
Might be fine for physics, doesn’t work for math.  ‘See’ it however you like; that uncompleted-account doesn’t jibe well with Cantor-style constructions.

~

One might say:  The continuum feels unproblematic enough, so long you take it for granted, as just some kind of smooth dense slippery thing, like mud.  Yet so soon as you pause to enquire more nearly, you are back in Saint Augustine’s predicament with regard to Time: “Quid est tempus? Si nemo a me quaerat, scio …”

~

Even in a universe which (like Wolfram’s) abjures the continuum, the continuum might turn out to be mathematically indispensible for its treatment.   Cf. the indispensible role of “imaginary” numbers in electromagneticsm or quantum mechanics, even though all observables must be real-valued.

The Ontology of Physics (updated)

The question at issue here is, What sort of entities are fundamental in physics?  E.g., in the late nineteenth century through early twentieth centuries,

whether atoms were real objects or only mnemonic devices for coding chemical regularities.

-- Abraham Pais, Subtle is the Lord (1982), p. 80

The idea of atoms in some sense  goes back to Ancient Greece; and today, they are taken for granted.  So it is surprising to laymen, how long opposition to a Realist take on atoms lasted among some philosophers and physicists (e.g. Ernst Mach).  An opposing view, from a leading German chemist:

Ostwald’s ‘Energetik’, according to which molecules and atoms are but mathematical fictions, and energy, in its many forms, the prime physical reality.

-- ibid, p. 83

Good bluff Rutherford, by contrast, had sucked atoms with his mother’s milk, and claimed that he “could see the little buggers as plainly as a spoon”.

Oddly, the debate on this seemingly practical laboratory matter,  had elements more characteristic of political or theological controversy, in which neither side has a prayer of of convincing the other by rational argument:

The most remarkable fact about the nineteenth century debates on atoms and molecules   is the large extent to which chemists and physicists spoke at cross purposes, when they did not actually ignore each other.

-- ibid, p. 80

~

Since that time, a host of new physical building-blocks have been proposed, and in some cases observed: from the unexpected and rather unwelcome muon (I.I. Rabi: “Who ordered that?”), to the massless chargeless neutrino (rather like Bishop Berkeley’s “ghosts of departed quantities”), through quarks, gluons, gravitons & gravitinos, selectrons & electrinos, axions, preons, virtual photons, phonons … such as might make even Rutherford gag.  But several of these are now widely accepted -- not as mere bookkeeping mechanisms, but as entities with further properties to be discovered;  so that the smart money has been on Realism, so far.

Ernest Rutherford,  swallowing an atom  but straining at a quark

Footnote:

We shouldn’t be too hard on old Ostwald  for backing the wrong horse in the Atoms Affair.   Dissident voices today would declare  as epiphenomenal not only atoms, but even the elementary particles of which those are admittedly merely bundles:  demoted to excitation-states of superstrings;  or emerging from the combinatorial-automaton structure of the world. 

Additionally, his Energetik has enjoyed a bit of a revival in some quarters:

  https://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Energetik_(Philosophie)

More recently, information (or, solemnly, “The Information” -- Wheeler's "It from Bit") has emerged among some as a skeleton-key to everything else in the physical world.

Thus, at the bottom of everything, behind and beyond the Maya of the particle zoo, lies:

Thales:  Water.
Oswald:  Energy.
John Wheeler:  Information.

Stewardess:  Coffee tea or mi-ilk?
The Milesian:   Just water, thanks.

Or, a more recherché candidate, from philosopher Hilary Putnam:

Nothing has more physical significance than spectral measure.

(That might strike the layman as rather a … spectral candidate for the role of firmest substrate of all.)

~     ~     ~

The word “ontology” is not one you are likely to overhear at the bus-stop;  nor indeed does a physics-major typically run across it.   But the more we see physics as science (Wissenschaft) rather than a special kind of engineering (the “shut up and calculate” ethos of the years around WWII), the more we meet questions traditionally treated under that rubric -- and indeed, contemporaneously, even under that very name. 

As:

My own position is that the issue of ontology is crucial to quantum mechanics.
-- Roger Penrose,  The Road to Reality (2004), p. 785

Let us now return to the ontology of the consistent-histories approach.  The theory operates with entities called coarse-grained histories.  … The ontological status of the insertion of such a projector set  is still not fully clear. …  A history from a maximally refined set seems to me to provide a strong candidate for what might be regarded as ontologially ‘real’.

-- Penrose,  The Road to Reality (2004), p. 788

Present-day quantum mechanics has no credible ontology … The importance of having an ontologically coherent quantum mechanics cannot be over-estimated.
-- Penrose,  The Road to Reality (2004), p. 860, 865

Re the notion of macroscopic quantum superposition being unproblematic:

This is taking a ‘pragmatic’ stance  that does not really address the ontological issues.

-- Roger Penrose,  The Road to Reality (2004), p. 812

And, full-bore:

Many contemporary thinkers seem to have supposed that, in discarding its mechanist ontology, physics had discarded its ontology:  matter had been dematerialized … The very progress of physics itself  seemed to them to call for the renunciation of mechanism and materialism  in favour of the de-ontologised view of science presented by Mach.

-- John Watkins, Science and Skepticism (1984), p. 138

 

In philosophy proper, ontology is fundamental, being prior to anything else.   In its application to or rather analogue within  physics, by contrast, it historically comes behindhand, as a setting in order of what-all several centuries of reflection and experiment have come up with:  We may think of it as a kind of cast of characters, not fully drawn-up until the play has been written:  in the course of writing it, you find out you need a ladies-maid, and so eventually she is placed upon the prefatory page of Dramatis personae, that typographically precedes the play itself -- and as a nice afterthought, you name her Lisette.  Similarly, particle physics did not begin by being defined, a priori, as (back among the Greeks) the Science of Atoms, or (later) as the Science of the Proton, the Neutron, and the Electron, or (later still-- the Barock Age) as the Menagerie-management of the Particle-zoo (with a fixed given roster of inmates), nor as the Curating of the Wiggling of Strings.  There is a thematic continuity throughout all these stages, but the staffage keeps changing.

As for the role of this Ontology, or Cast of Characters, it is not (despite the spectral example of traditional metaphysics per se) just something to admire from afar, like Mount Rushmore, but rather, as Goedel said pragmatically re which axioms we should adopt for math and logic, they should themselves possess generative potential -- by their fruits ye shall know them.  Thus, hard-headedly:

Kepler’s theoretical ontology, unlike Gilbert’s, was not organically related to his laws;  even if it could be squared with the latter, which seems doubtful, it failed to make any contribution to the testable content of his system.

-- John Watkins, Science and Skepticism (1984), p. 197

~     ~     ~     ~     ~

As remarked earlier, I may well go to my grave without ever grasping the concept of an observable, much less physical ontology in general.   Still, it is helpful towards organizing my thoughts, to have an online scribble-space, so that the matter is, so to speak, officially a topic, a project under way.   For now, this is just a whiteboard on which to stow some juicy quotes.  Your own juicy contributions are more than welcome.
For a more general surview of the ontology of the various sciences, click here.

~     ~     ~     ~     ~

Physics may be defined as the art of saying things about stuff (or stuff about things -- predications concerning entities, for the fastidious).  But what are these entities, whereof we predicate?  In the first place -- observables.

P.A.M. Dirac, The Principles of Quantum Mechanics (1930; 4^th edn. 1958), p. 116:

From our assumption that the energy is an observable, there are sufficient stationary states for an arbitrary state to be dependent on them.

For a layman, this is bemusing.  The assumption that it’s an observable?   Can you observe it, or can’t you?  -- Evidently there is much more to qualifying as  “an observable” than merely being … observable.
(Compare Einstein, in one of his Zen moments: "It is the theory that decides what we can observe.")

P.A.M. Dirac, The Principles of Quantum Mechanics (4^th edn. 1958), p. 458 (re certain eigenstates):

Science contains many examples of theoretical concepts which are limits of things met with in practice  and are useful for the precise formulation of laws of nature, although they are not realizable experimentally, and this is just one more of them.

Emphasis added.  “Limits” in the mathematical sense.

Note that “not realizable experimentally” does not constitute much of a disability.  What, after all, is?  “Carthage lost the Punic Wars”; “I love you”; “E8 is a 248-dimensional rotation-space”:  no, almost nothing is.

Robert Lindsay & Henry Margenau, Foundations of Physics (1936), p.402:

Quantities such as position, energy, momentum, and the like, capable of measurement… will be called observables,  although it is not intended to imply that they are observable directly.

The caveat is troubling enough;  but now this:

In quantum mechanics, the state of a system is no longer defined by means of a number of variables having an immediate intuitive appeal … In fact, it is not defined in terms of observables at all;  it is simply a function in configuration space.

Carl Hempel, “Problems and Changes in the Empiricist Criterion of Meaning” (1950):

Green, soft, liquid, longer than  designate observable characteristics, while bivalent, radioactive, better electric conductor, and introvert do not.

This odd assertion, by a well-known philosopher of science, seems more psychological than scientific.  It is reminiscent of Locke’s distinction between simple and composite ideas.

Eugen Merzbacher, Quantum Mechanics (1961, 2^nd edn. 1970), p. 153:

Following Dirac, we call observable any Hermitian operator which possesses a complete set of eigenfunctions.

This might sound opaque to some, but for a math guy it’s the clearest statement yet, by far.  Of course, what it amounts to physically, intuitively, is something else…

Gerald Holton, The scientific imagination (1978), p. 202:

The idea of making quantitative indicators of anything at all  fascinates some persons, and repels others as dangerous or absurd.  This difference is caused largely by thematically incompatible -- and therefore often unresolvable -- personal views concerning the ability of quantifiables to lead to … the deepest reality.

Note the silly dichotomy -- as though failing to lead to "the deepest reality" (a deeply suspect term) meant that they couldn't be "indicators of anything at all".

~

I had some fun above, playing with a rumpled old word like stuff, shoving it before the microphone of science.  Here a gifted popularizer  makes similar play  with pronouns:

[In its] Einsteinian reframing … is spacetime a something?

-- Brian Greene, The Fabric of the Cosmos (2004), p. 39

In that historical context, the question concerned the ontological status of (the novelty) ‘spacetime’, as opposed to the traditional notions of the independent entities, space, and time.

(More recently, spacetime has been demoted in some theories -- not returning to a Cartesian product of space and time, but being derived as an epiphenomenon of more fundamental items.  Thus, twistor theory, among others.)

If there is no aether to provide the standard of rest, what is the what  with respect to which this speed is to be interpreted?

-- Brian Greene, The Fabric of the Cosmos (2004), p. 45

If an individual electron is also a wave, what is it that is waving?

-- Brian Greene, The Fabric of the Cosmos (2004), p. 88

(Here the wordplay inheres not in the pronoun what, but in the verb.  He could more conventionally have written, “What is the medium for the wave?”, but the startling verbal formulation ‘makes it strange’, confronting us with something more fundamental.)

~

Stephen Hawking, A Brief History of Time (1988; 2^nd edn. 1996) p. 75:

The fact that confinement prevents one from observing an isolated quark or gluon  might seem to make the whole notion of quarks and gluons as particles   somewhat metaphysical.  However, there is another property of the strong nuclear force, called asymptotic freedom.  The concept of these entities  was already well-defined, or not, as the case may be:  certainly well-defined as bookkeeping conventions, if nothing more.   Asymptotic freedom -- “at high energies, the strong force becomes much weaker, and the quarks and gluons behave almost like free particles” -- simply adds a further mode of observing their effects:  and in this case, their effects when they are relatively ineffectual -- quarks on holiday.

Failure to be observable in isolation certainly doesn't make a thing "metaphysical" (in the colloquial bad sense intended here).  You cannot observe a "brother" in isolation:  dissect him down to his last tissues, nothing will reveal his brotherhood but the historical context.  Nor, perhaps, can you observe Coulomb attraction in a single isolated particle -- it takes two to tangle.  (I might be wrong on this -- the photon cloud and all that.  But how does the cloud tell you whether you've got an attraction or a repulsion?)

Steven Weinberg, Dreams of a Final Theory (1992),  p. 181:

The positivist concentration on observables like particle positions and momenta  has stood in the way of a “realist” interpretation of quantum mechanics, in which the wave function is the representation of physical reality.

Wiki, "Quantum field theory" (excellent article, btw):

In quantum field theory, unlike in quantum mechanics, position is not an observable.

From the point of view of quantum field theory, particles are identical if and only if they are excitations of the same underlying quantum field.  Thus, the question ‘Why are all electrons identical?” arises from mistakenly regarding individual electrons as fundamental objects, when in fact it is only the electron field that is fundamental.

The global phase of the wave function  is arbitrary, and does not represent something physical.

Wiki, "Implicate and explicate order" (of interest only to those who are already devotees of guru-physicist David Bohm):

 Bohm’s paradigm is inherently antithetical to reductionism … and can be regarded as a form of ontological holism.

Wiki, “Introduction to Gauge Theory”:

The electric field and the magnetic field are observable, while the more fundamental electromagnetic potentials V and A  are not.

~

In this ontological context, it is far from clear how the phrase ‘more like’ is to be applied.  Comparison of historical theories gives no sense that their ontologies are approaching a limit:  in some fundamental ways, Einstein’s general relativity resembles Aristotle’s physics more than Newton’s.

-- Thomas Kuhn, in I. Lakatos & A. Musgrave, eds., Criticism and the Growth of Knowledge (1970), p. 265

Cf. too Dirac’s remarks (1951) that the aether concept was ripe for resuscitation.

[Update 8 May 2012] And now this:

http://www.nature.com/news/a-boost-for-quantum-reality-1.10602

The philosophical status of the wavefunction — the entity that determines the probability of different outcomes of measurements on quantum-mechanical particles — would seem to be an unlikely subject for emotional debate. Yet online discussion of a paper claiming to show mathematically that the wavefunction is real has ranged from ardently star-struck to downright vitriolic since the article was first released as a preprint in November 2011.

The paper, thought by some to be one of the most important in quantum foundations in decades, was finally published last week in Nature Physics

They say that the mathematics leaves no doubt that the wavefunction is not just a statistical tool, but rather, a real, objective state of a quantum system.

I told you so...

Physicists reify space-time. They elevate it from a four-dimensional diagram used to record their experience into the kind of “real essence” that Bohr warned us not to seek.
-- David Mermin (March 2014), at:

http://www.nature.com/news/physics-qbism-puts-the-scientist-back-into-science-1.14912?WT.ec_id=NATURE-20140327

~

Not the same as the question of the building-blocks (ontological bricks) of physics, but related to it, is that of the Boundaries of Disciplines:  between physics and neighboring fields (chemistry, mathematics, …) and within physics itself (mechanics, astronomy, electromagnetism, condensed-matter, nucleonics, quantum theory, …).   In one sense, the question is idle -- you are working on whatever project you are working on, with methods appropriate thereto, however outsiders might classify them.  But it also has practical consequences, e.g. in the writing of textbooks.  As:

The traditional teaching of thermodynamics and statistical mechanics  as distinct subjects,  has often left students with their knowledge  compartmentalized, and has left them ill-prepared to accept newer ideas such as spin temperature or negative temperature  as legitimate and natural.

-- F. Reif, Fundamentals of statistical and thermal physics (1965), p. viii

That, from the textbook we used in stat mech at Harvard -- in the physics department, though previously I had only met notions of enthalpy, temperature, free energy, and entropy, in a chemistry course.

Similarly, Lindsay & Margenau remark, in their historical overview Foundations of Physics (1936), that they are moving away from treating optics and electrodynamics as distinct disciplines, “the former being, since Mawell’s time, really a branch of the latter.”

~

God’s-truth vs Hocus-pocus:

It is tempting to dismiss these quantum waves  as mathematical contrivances … but in the laboratory these “probability waves” can be manipulated with mirrors …

-- George Johnson,  A Shortcut Through Time (2003), p. 38

~

The prototypical example of an ontological ‘bit’ of chemistry and physics, is the atom (the ‘indivisible’ in its Greek etymology).  But later perspectives can get quite unprototypical:

A neutron star … is basically a giant atomic nucleus, stabilized by gravity.

-- J. Richard Gott, The Cosmic Web (2016), p. 29

.

On the Nature of Being: a Slacker Meditation

“Cogito, ergo sum,” quoth Descartes.  Only that’s … so much effort…

Can I just am without thinking?  The verb to am -- I am you am he am she am …

-- David Lodge, Thinks… (2001), p. 4

The novelist’s here wrestling  with the innards of language, recalls the essay of Woody Allen, who, finding “I love you” too hackneyed, said to his paramour:  “I… loave you… I lerve you …”

The Ontology of Sociology

The present post is simply a sort of by-trifle to The Ontology of Psychology.   It might alternatively be dubbed “The characterology of individual action in a multiperson structured setting”.

The unit of analysis  in Goffman’s accounts  is always the individual role-player  striving to effect his will  within a role-structuring situation.

-- Alasdair MacIntyre, After Virtue (1981; ²1984), p.  115

This put me curiosly in mind of the ‘sociology’ of chessmen.  (Here we speak, not of the vision of grandmasters, which is doubtless far more holistic, but of patzers, which is the only one I know.) 

Originally, the game was a metaphor or rather ‘video-game representation’ for medieval warfare.  Thrilling stuff.   And to a beginner, at least, it really does feel as though individual pieces are venturing out, or ignominiously retreating,  issuing powerful threats or just pushing pawnily along.   Sometimes, a noble warrior even ventures to be ‘sacrificed’ for the greater good.  I can testify that, as a scrappy lad first learning the rudiments, the queen, rather than just a factor among many, in a sort of multivariate algebraic equation,  was dizzying in her potential power -- “Wait’ll I sic my queen on ‘im!”  It was reminiscent of the culture of trading baseball cards -- Trajea a Mickle Mantle for a Yogi Berra plus a Roger Marris.    An archive of children’s chess-matches  would probably back this up, showing far more early-game forays by that dominating dame, than in expert play.

Compare, from Nabokov’s chess-novel:

…palpable pieces whose quaint shape and wooden materiality  always disturbed him, and always seemed to him but the crude, mortal shell  of exquisite, invisible chess forces.

…

Luzhin removed and placed on the table beside him  what was no longer an incoporeal force, but a heavy, yellow Pawn.

… The weightiest elements on the board  called to one another with trumpet voices, and again there was an exchange, and again two chess forces  were transformed into carved, brightly lacquered dummies.

-- Vladimir Nabokov, The Luzhin Defense (1964)

~

In Go, by contrast, the counters are all blandly interchangeable in themselves.   They pop out of nowhere, one by one (indefinitely); and once placed, have no power to move from the spot.  A holistic view is imposed even on the beginner.

On What There Is (expanded)

Existence is -- what existential quantification expresses.

       -- W.V.O. Quine, “Existence and Quantification”  (epigrammatic punctuation added) 

And, contra a couple of celebrated slogans of Quine:

The locution ‘ontological commitment’ is not one I have any use for, and neither do I care to ask or to answer the curious question “What is there?”  I say “There are chairs in the room,” and if someone wants to say “Therefore there are chairs”, tout court, it sounds odd… If this is ontology, then ontology is a mouthful of air.

-- Paul Ziff, Semantic Analysis (1960)

The subject of this essay is ontology; we gave a foretaste of the subject here.

By its dictionary definition, ontology is the study of Being.   Now, for me, “What is Being?” is the ultimate conversation-stopper;  that question, like Being itself in so bald an encounter, is like a diffuse and vaguely repugnant blancmange, filling all space.   It is questions like that which persuaded me early on that I was not interested in Philosophy.   And at that level, I still am not.

Quine, it turns out, is of like mind, for he remarks, of his epigram above, “This is as unhelpful as it is undebatable, since it is how one explains the symbolic notation of quantification to begin with.  The fact is that it is unreasonable to ask for an explication of existence in simpler terms. … Explication of general existence  is a forlorn cause.”

(Similarly, this, self-stultified by its own generality:

      The meaning of a remark in any language.

-- section-heading in: Jonathan Cohen, The Diversity of Meaning (1963), p. 154 )

A pre-philosophical, psychosociological observation:  The opportunity of waffling-on about Being with a capital B, seems to bring out the worst in writers.  As, Emerson (well, not quite fair to ontologists, since it doesn’t take much to bring out the worst in Emerson -- an ordinary pen-nib will do), in his celebrated essay “Compensation” (1841):

There is a deeper fact in the soul than compensation, to wit, its own nature.  The sould is not a compensation, but a life.  The soul  is.   ….  Being is the vast affirmative, excluding negation, self-balanced, and swallowing up all relations, parts and times  within itself.

Now that is ten pounds of horse-doody  in a five-pound bag.

~

At only one level down of abstraction, philosophers have traditionally brooded upon the ontological status of qualities or attributes or essences -- “whether concepts have a supramundane, or only a psychological existence;  whether they are transcendent intuitables or only private instrospectibles.” (Gilbert Ryle, “Ordinary Language” (1953).)   For hardcore Realists like Meinong and even early Russell, “Consistently with the assumed equation of signifying with naming, they maintained the objective existence of all sorts of abstract and fictional entia rationis.” (id., “The Theory of Meaning” (1957).)

The question becomes more compelling in the context of the philosophy of quantification (“To be is to be the value of a variable,” quoth the Quine); and shapelier still in the context of what counts as an ‘item’ for, say, physics.
(Incidentally… I have borrowed the title of this post from a well-known work (1948) of the eminent Harvard philosopher, who taught me logic when I was but a wee lad.  Quine, having passed to a different realm of quantification, will doubtless not object.)
(Sudden update:  Just browsing around, I notice that this is actually the second time I stole  the title -- Shakespearian in its simplicity -- of my former magister;  earlier effort here.)

Thus, the focus shall be now  not on Being, but on beings -- on what counts, for us, as entities, when we pursue science, and why.   As Quine nicely puts it:  “Ontology … is a generalization of somatology.” (Roots of Reference (1973), p. 88).  The top-down approach to ontology -- “What is Being?” -- is baffling;  but starting from what we understand, we might build upwards.

Thus, we confront more tractable matters of hypostasis (reification) and individuation.  

By getting down in the weeds concerning what choices have been hit upon by the various scientific enterprises that have had to deal practically with such matters, we might in time return refreshed to the general question.

Consider this analogy.  The ancient Greeks asked themselves, “What is motion?”, and discovered that, once you dig into the matter, it’s more puzzling than it looks  -- cf. St. Augustine’s celebrated quip about the meaning of Time:  If you don’t pose the question, I know perfectly well;  if you ask me point-blank, I am flummoxed.  Some philosophers even came to feel that the very notion of motion was paradoxical, or impossible : compare more contemporary thinkers with similar doubts about Free Will.  (Eppur’, in both cases, si muove.)  Once one has studied the matter, however, in classical dynamics and in special relativity, and understood how (Achilles and the tortoise) an infinite series may yet sum to a finite value, you return to the matter with new confidence.

~     ~     ~

We must concede at the outset that ontological quandaries seldom arise in daily life.  Only very occasionally, and that not systematically, do you pose What-There-Is questions.  Things like:  Does Bigfoot exist?  Does Dark Energy?  (Everyday life if you’re a physicist, that is.)   True, a questing undergraduate may once in a while trouble himself with questions such as the Existence of Other Minds, and Is the Universe an Illusion;  but such queries cease once he gets himself a proper girlfriend.

 

~     ~     ~

The atomists, in their purest and here somewhat idealized form, imagined a world in which indivisible particles were the basic Things, all else being combinations of these, and thus, in the most parsimonious view, ontologically subaltern.   (Leibniz imagined something rather like this for the noösphere, with his ineffable monads.)  And indeed, we can well imagine a world, in which such entities entered into but fleeting congeries, without definite or lasting outline, and crucially, with no emergent properties for the ensembles (thus, in particular, no reproduction of atomic ‘clouds’).   Such a world would have an essentially unambiguous, monolevel ontology.

Now, however, consider a different world:  a pool table.  And -- for this is necessary too, and we rather finessed the question in the fable immediately above -- consider that we have been given a task:  viz, to characterize the perambulations of matter atop it.   In this scenario, it is the billiard balls themselves we must consider, and in no wise the atoms that constitute these.

 

Consider now Euclidean geometry.  Here, fundamental ontological status was posited for just two entities:  the point, and the line.   (Notoriously,  one can present this geometry in a ‘substrate-neutral’ way that professes agnosticism as to the nature of these posited ‘points’ and ‘lines’ -- beer-mugs and beer-mats, we could call them just as well.  And, more tellingly, styles of geometry in which the point and the line are dual to each other, thus interchangeable.  But to consider this further, were to sail afield.)

No higher figures were distinguished as fundamental -- neither the triangle nor the ten-million-and-seventeen-gon  enjoy axiomatic status as part of the furniture of the Euclidean universe.  And indeed, in the broader perspective (the Erlangen Program) which sorts out and makes sense of a variety of geometries, it is not the individual figures  on which all things hinge, but their transformations -- their symmetries, and the way these form an algebraic Group.

~     ~     ~

The prototypical example of an indisputably extant entity is you.  You are physically coherent, you have purposes and plans, you are self-aware from moment to moment; ontologically, it doesn’t get better than this.  And if you’re Donald Trump, you’re done:  end of ontology.  You slide through life like a bubble down the duodenum, a blob of solipsism.

For the rest of us, we embrace the existence of Other Minds, and indeed quite on a par with our own.  

And now comes (as Blessed Pope John Paul II put it ) an ontic discontinuity or  “ontological gap” between ourselves and the beasts.   There is a spiritual truth to this, but biologically, it does not cut nature at the joints.

(Note:  That gap itself should not be over-emphasized, since, in the grand mediaeval vision of the scala naturae, it is just one of several such.  Roughly:

archangels -- seraphim -- cherubim -- penguins -- mankind -- critters -- Protista -- sludge.)

[Click that image for more exciting details!]

So we admit the biosphere -- only, just where to draw the lines among individuals gets murky, the more you learn about what-all is out there.  Herd animals, species all of whose members are genetically identical, parasites, incorporated former parasites such as plasmids and mitochondria, slime mold, elm forests (one giant subterraneanly-connected plant), and even such exotica as the cast-off arm of a male cuttlefish:  as Darwin put it, “So completely does the cast-off arm resemble a separate animal, that it was described by Cuvier as a parasitic worm”.

There is no fact-of-the-matter about such cases; their intershadings show that our question, Which are the functional individuals?, must be more sharply posed.

~

~  Posthumous Endorsement ~

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

this is what I would be reading: "

I Don't Do Divorce Cases

Murphy on the Mount.

(I am Quine, the great and powerful;

and I approved this message.)

~         ~

Let us revisit the examples of the pool table, and the geometries.   Here the basic entities were identified relative to certain transformations of the roster of potential entities:  the billiard balls caroming about, rebounding, never blending, proved to be the units to reckon with here.   And in modern mathematics, the symmetry transformations of the individual geometries proved more important that the various squiggles and shapes (or collections of squiggles and shapes) that undergo them.    So perhaps the way forward is to consider the kinematics of life. Ecology, that is, and Evolution.

When the theory of Natural Selection was introduced to the world in 1859, species rose to prominence in our conception of the way the world really is, right in the title of that great work, The Origin of Species.  Individuation can be problematic when we contemplate such things as animals undergoing complete metamorphosis, sessile vs. vagile stages,  and so forth:  but at each moment the species are (in the somewhat idealized classic view) sharp in outline, non-interbreeding, reliable entities.  (From a NeoPlatonist perspective, the species may even be more real than any of the variously imperfect and misshapen individuals that instantiate that ideal.)  For a time, Nature red in tooth and claw was conceived as a battle among these  supra-individual entities, competing, going extinct -- tyrannosaur versus triceratops. predator and prey, the early mammals peering out discretely from the prehistoric underbrush, waiting their chance.

Yet no sooner had we managed to wrap our heads around the notion of the species   as the fundamental unit of biological accounting (which in particular, delightfully,  cleared up the mystery of sex), than a pot of cold water was flung in our face:

Why should a female  produce offspring carrying only half her genes, when by parthenogenesis … she could produce clones…?  The simple answer, that the variability produced by sexual recombination makes for greater adaptability, and is therefore ‘for the good of the species’, will not serve.  Darwinian natural selection … has to do … with individuals,  and selection for group characteristics  has no simple place.

John Bonner & Robert May, introduction (1981) to a reprint of Darwin’s Descent of Man.

The next step (and the consensus of current thinking) settles neither on individuals nor on groups, but on a unit which, in Darwin’s day, was not even known specifically to exist:  the gene.  The argument has been superbly laid out for the general public in Richard Dawkins The Selfish Gene, so we needn’t walk through the reasoning here.  The upshot is as follows:

Richard Dawkins, The Selfish Gene (1976; 2^nd edn. 1989), p. 34:

In sexually reproducing species, the individual is too large and too temporary a genetic unit  to qualify as a significant unit of natural selection.  The group of individuals is an even larger unit.  Genetically speaking, individuals and groups are like clouds in the sky or dust-storms in the desert.  They are temporary aggregations or federations.

(This reminded me curiously of a suggestive passage from a historical-espionage novel by Tim Powers, Declare:

You know what the djinn tend to be made of, from moment to moment -- wind, dust, snow, sand, agitated water, swarms of bugs, hysterical mobs. )

Anyhow, Dawkins goes on to make clear that his definition is functional not anatomical:

The largest practical unit of natural selection -- the gene -- will usually be found to lie somewhere on the scale between cistron and chromosome.

This functional/structural rather than physical definition  is reminiscent of the notion of phoneme, as opposed to a phone or sound.

Edward Wilson concurs:

The average differences between people in different localities … are narrowing.  Genetic homogenization has similarities to the stirring together of liquid ingredients.  … But the most elemental units, the genes, remain unperturbed.  They stay about the same  in both kind and relative abundance.

-- E.O. Wilson, Consilience (1998), p. 273

Now we feel we are back on familiar ground.  These genes are rather like biological analogs of atoms, in the old Greek well-behaved, billiard-ball-like conception of these.  They just take some getting used to.

Yet even after the first ontological question has been answered (What is there?) in favor of the gene, there is still the second (What is it?).  As.

Should we think of a gene … as a structure that is replicated, or as information that is copied and translated?

J. Maynard Smith & E. Szathmáry, The Origins of Life (1999), p. 10

Actually, Dawkins makes a much simpler and apparently unanswerable argument for thus privileging the gene as a unit of accounting:

The true unit of natural selection has to be a unit of which you can say it has a frequency.

(Individuals and groupings obviously don’t fit the bill.)   This argument is completely general, and is independent of the details of biology.   Thus in particular, it should apply (if it is valid) mutatis mutandis  outside of biology.

For the style of thought, though not the detailed content, cf. Quine (“On What There Is”), maintaining that quantification is “the only way we can involve ourselves in ontological commitments”.

Further, compare this:

Gerd Gigerenzer et al, The Empire of Chance (1989), p. 246, quoting Read Tuddenham:

To the statistician's dictum that whatever exists can be measured, the factorist had added that whatever can be 'measured' must exist 

[For a brief and untendentious survey of the various candidates for status as a Unit of Selection, click here.]

~     ~     ~

Having persuaded us that the gene, rather than the individual or the herd or the species, is the fundamental reckoning-unit of life, Dawkins then complicates matters in a way reminiscent of those extended and ill-individuated entities like elm forests and slime molds, or even Bertrand Russel’s definition of the number ‘four’ as the set of all foursomes:

What is the selfish gene?  It is not just one single physical bit of DNA, it is all replicas of a particular bit of DNA.  … ‘It’ is a distributed agency, existing in many different individuals at once.

By this time it is clear that, the more you look into it, the ontology of biology looks more like biology and less like Ontology -- in that original maximally abstract metaphysical program to whose allurements we confessed ourselves deaf.

Still, this business of the gene, defined as a functional rather than a spatiotemporal unit, does get us back to old-fashioned ontology as practiced by philosophers.   Quine sparkles at this.   He wastes no time on “What is the Nature of Being?”, but rather rolls up his sleeves, and, in the chapter “The Ontogenesis of Reference”, constructs a plausible, insightful, and wittily-told fable of how we acquire our notions of objects, and what it is that we acquire.   (A wry tribute to the style of mind involved in such exercises  can be appreciated here.)   By page 98 of Word & Object (1960), he has made a case for the ontological respectability of “a single sprawling object”, and admonishes:

There is no reason to boggle at water as a single though scattered object, the aqueous part of the world.  Even the tightest object, short of an elementary particle, has a scattered substructure  when the physical facts are in.

To which, Amen;  adding only that, when even more surprising physical facts are in, concerning indistinguishable elementary particles (bosons, at any rate), there is a sense in which these too could be considered a single scattered object.

The genes (or bosons), as thus conceived, are only, so to speak, accidentally scattered;  things empirically might have been otherwise.  Consider now rather entities that are scattered by construction, by definition:  higher-level entities, sets or collections of lower ones.

Questions about the ontological status of such things can arise even in the everyday pre-philosophical world.  In what way can we say that the following are genuine entities, with lasting contours and cross-temporal identification, despite the changing roster of the individuals that make them up? -- Your (nuclear/extended/….) family; the Boy Scouts; the nation-state to which you belong.   This is a moral and practical matter, not simply ontological:  having pledged allegiance to any one of these at t=0, are we likewise bound at a later time, despite their ever-shifting membership (and foreign policy)?  (I address such questions in a projected essay, “Continuity of Identity”.)

So, we have noticed an actual ontological question within the cares of daily life.  Still, it is not to a metaphysician that you would turn for clarification, should your eighth cousin thrice removed suddenly show up on your doorstep, claiming ties of kin that give him the right to move in with you and to borrow your car,  nor to an ontologist, were the Boy Scouts ever to get the Bomb.

In Biology -- the fons et origo of structured higher-level objects in scientific practice -- such entities include:  species (made up of conspecific individuals);  genus (made up of species); family (made up of genera); order; class; and so on up.  Here the ‘atom’ is the individual animal or plant;  there is no place in the traditional taxonomy of considering an individual as a congeries of genes -- and indeed the set-theoretical structure is completely different, the gene-sets in question being radically non-disjoint, whereas an animal is either in one species or another, not both.

 

In the nature of the case, it is clear that the higher taxa of biology are not ontologically given as such, but are confections of convenience, based  to be sure  upon what’s out there, and proceeding via sound and defensible principles.  Thus in particular, whereas a species as a whole does pretty much hang together or hang separately (say, in a sexually reproducing species, if the survivors are too sparsely scattered to hook up), there is no such selective linkage among the various n-level groupings in a taxon at level n+1.  Should the echidna ever bite the dust, ‘twill be a sad day for all lovers of monotremes; but the valiant platypus  still will soldier on.

There have also been major revisions in higher-order taxa;  even some quite familiar ones (reptiles, insectivores, puffballs) have  upon closer inspection  been dismissed as polyphyletic.

~     ~     ~

So much for the entities of biology.  What of Chemistry -- which is “the next level down” in terms of the agenda of Consilience?

Here we are in for a pleasant surprise.  No such agonizing and backtracking will be necessary as it was before.  The answer is:  atoms.   And not just atoms, in a row as it were, but, stacked, structurally stacked, in a most revealing way.  This is the Periodic Table of the Elements, first unveiled to a grateful world by Mendeleev, of blessed memory.  It is possibly the single most satisfactory scientific object on the planet.  Moreover its elements and its structure reach directly, consiliently, straight down to basic physics.  It is a wonder to behold.

There is even a loose analogy between atoms-and-molecules, on the one hand, and genes-and-individuals, on the other.  Loose, but better than most of those cited by Wilson in his ambitious book.

~     ~     ~

Physics, by contrast, is in no such happy case.  Such subjects as cosmology or thermodynamics or hydrodynamics don’t seem to have ‘basic-level objects’ in any obvious way.   There are, to be sure, the “elementary” particles, but these have been as troublesome as they are helpful, referred to distastefully as the “particle zoo”.   What with quarks and various subtle symmetries, these have now been regimented into something more satisfactory, though still nothing like as self-explanatory as the Periodic Chart.  Further, they do not span the whole of physics, but only of Particle Physics, a subfield.

There are, nonetheless, deep ontological questions within physics, with still-tentative but sophisticated answers.   I am not currently competent to comment on these, but a selection of intriguing quotations may be consulted here.

~     ~     ~

Astronomy affords relatively little by way of ontological interest; but consider this wise observation by astronomer  Mike Brown (quoted in The New Yorker for 24 July 2006):

Planets are like continents. ‘Continent’ is a good geological word, but, like ‘planet’, it has no scientific meaning whatsoever.

That is an epigram, and thus permits itself a breezy way with words; meaning here really means ‘ontological status’.

The point is of course lost on the layman;  witness the heavy coverage of Pluto’s “dethronement” by the latest Kuiper-belt detritus, as though this were of the least importance for the understanding of our cosmos.  But far more important, the opposite assumption seriously misled some of the finest minds of the Middle Ages.  For Galileo’s misadventure with circular planetary orbits, click here.  For Kepler’s fine failed vision of the planetary distances reflecting nested Platonic solids, here.  Their basic insights were sound, even brilliant; but planets (i.e., floating lumps of dirt) simply don’t have the ontological status to deserve such angelical constructions.

~     ~     ~

In Mathematics, the conundrum concerns, not so much the existence of thís (class of) object versus that (class of) object, let alone which are the ‘basic-level’ objects (I know of none), but the existence of any objects überhaupt.  That is, we have retreated from the question of beings, and are back at the bad old topic of Being.   At best:  for in fact, the question is probably not best posed in terms of “the existence of mathematical objects”, which threatens to involve us in fruitless discussions of what they are exactly (e.g. the integers as really sets of one sort or another, including Russell’s extravagant suggestion), whereas in fact,  mathematical objects or entities or thingums or whatever they are, are the very plume and prototype of substrate-neutrality;  a less contentious formulation would be “the transcendence (epistemological independence) of mathematical truths”.  (One is less likely to wonder whether a “truth” is, say, pink, than whether an object is.)

Let us consider a specific question, with an at least superficially ontological aspect, that is more localized than that vast barely-answerable question about the ontological status of mathematics as a whole.  (My attempt at a Realist answer to that one begins here.)

For example:  Does there exist a topological object of the following description:  It is regular, second-countable, yet could never be assigned a metric?   Urysohn looked into the matter, and concluded that none exist.  But it wasn’t by looking around, or by exhaustive search, that he reached this conclusion, the way you might drag every inch of Loch Ness and finally conclude that it contains no monster.  Never quitting his armchair, he deduced the result, in a way in which things were never really serially considered.

Indeed we had to strain a bit to cast the problem in the form of a question about ‘existence’ at all:  it’s not like finding Bigfoot, or failing to find him.   If biology were like mathematics, then we could infer the existence or non-existence of Bigfoot, without ever actually spotting him, nor searching the wooded hills, based upon abstract patterns elsewhere in the system.  This is one of the very many ways in which biology and mathematics are not the least bit alike (I mention this only because of the counter-program of consilience - a nice idea, but a will-o’-the-wisp.)

Mathematics does nonetheless afford good grist for the ontology-mill, indeed more clearly ontological than anything we have yet seen.  Namely, the entities posited by what are known as “existence proofs”.    There is no properly (intra)mathematical doubt about these purported objects -- they uncontroversially have such&such properties, if indeed they are there to bear properties at all.  The problem is with the special sort of purported demonstration that says, although we may never see such a thing, yea verily, it doth exist.  Such proofs can be purely deductive, non-constructive; so that, although we are assured of the existence of something fitting a given description, we are given no hint as to how to find the item in question.  Understandable ontological qualms about such spectral beings led to the founding of a school of mathematics that rejects such non-constructive proofs:  Intuitionism.  This dog-in-the-manger school gets vastly less play in actual day-to-day mathematical practice, than it does in philosophy books.

The one place within mathematics where ontology is definitely at home is Set theory.  A typical credo:

I have written this book from an uncompromisingly realist or platonist position; that is, I have taken the viewpoint that  in some sense  sets do exist,  as objects to be studied, and that set theory is just as much about fixed objects as is number theory.
Frank Drake, Set Theory (1974), p. 18

Indeed, this subject is often practiced by ontologically-inclined philosophers (such as Quine) and taught in the philosophy department.  (That other mathematical outlier -- logic -- is likewise often so housed.  I took Intro Logic -- “Phil 140” -- from Quine.)  It is from this milieu that we got the slogan “To be is to be the value of a variable.”

Quine’s quip, suitable for recital to the babe in the cradle, is actually trickier than it sounds, owing to his notion of substitutional quantification, which does not express existence, vs. objectual quantification, which does.  There is a grey area of entities which, like most nonalgebraic real numbers, are assumed to lead just as robust an existence as the algebraic irrationals, but which are not finitely specificable.
(Further remarks on the ontology of logic and set theory  here.)

Note, incidentally, a certain resonance between this last distinction, and the notion in physics of observables -- an attempt to get a firm handle on What There (Really) Is, amid the welter of mathematical abstractions.

 

~     ~     ~

Linguistics and Anthropology come each in two flavors: on the one hand, traditional mostly-European philology and Völkerkunde; and on the other, a present-day, typically American scientistical approach.  The former fall under the Humanties.  They were not much concerned with positing abstract analytical entities;  the “parts of speech” go back to ancient times, and were defined intuitively, largely morphologically, which is something you can get away with in the highly inflected classical languages like Latin or Sanskrit or Greek.   The latter, by contrast, strives (or, in the case of Anthropology, strove; now it strives only to be politically correct) to be honest-to-goodness sciences like physics or anything else.   Many intricate and closely-argued entities were posited and fought over, for phonology and syntax (some in morphology and semantics too, of course, but those weren’t worth fighting over);  and anthropology became algebraically structural in its analysis of kinship systems.  Both fields were self-aware of what they were up to, and there was a running discussion of the ontology of the theories, under the genial rubric “God’s Truth vs. Hocus-Pocus”.  The God’s Truth faction took a Realist stance towards the posited analytic entities; the Hocus Pocus faction, a Nominalist.

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Somewhat surprisingly, the study of Folklore is also distinguished by the positing of abstract analytic entities, known as motifs; and this, already in the early years of the twentieth century.  These were carefully and exhaustively catalogued in the Stith-Thompson Motif Index.  Their combinatorics determine the tale-types around the world.   They are reminiscent, not really of atoms (since the characteristics of molecules are so wildly ‘emergent’ above anything visible in the atoms that make them up;  cf. H2O, I rest my case), but rather of genes.   Okay, the analogy is loose, but no worse than that of genes & memes.  Indeed, motifs were the forerunners of the meme idea, and already much better thought out.  There is even a sort of folkloristic analogue of the allele:  the oikotype.

 

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There is no reason to boggle at water as a single though scattered object,  the aqueous part of the world.  Even the tightest object, short of an elementary particle, has scattered substructure  when the physical facts are in.

-- W.V.O. Quine, Word and Object (1960), p. 98

In support of this:

(1) “the aqueous part of the world”:  cf. “empty space”, an anything but simply-connected entity (object).

(2) “scattered substructure”:   Unsure quite what he meant by this -- quarks are substructure of hadrons, but were unknown -- nay, unhypothesized -- in 1960, the publication-date of Quine’s classic.   However, a “smeared-out” (not really ‘substructural’)  nature of something so tiny-tight as the electron (still regarded as truly elementary) was suggested already

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Postscript:   These are the posts so far that have touched on ontology. These largely concern mathematical Platonism, which we won’t focus on here,  other than to say that Quine’s quip ("To be is to be the value of a variable"), suitable for recital to the babe in the cradle, is trickier than it sounds, owing to his notion of substitutional quantification, which does not express existence, vs. objectual quantification, which does.

[Footnote] Contra-Quine:

It is not true that ideas face the bar of reality as corporate bodies:  rather, in the past, they evaded reality  as corporate bodies.  …  This word has, so to speak, a turnover ontology.  The “objects” (ie. the terms in which we classify the continuum of experience  into “things”), are not there for keeps.  In trying to handle … the continuum of experience, it is … proper to experiment with … diverse ways of clustering the flux into “objects”.

-- Ernest Gellner, Plough, Sword, and Book (1998), p. 64f.