Sunday, 21 July 2024

Evolution, Ideas, and Hiveminds

Recently I watched an excellent video by Munecat on Youtube, "I Debunked Evolutionary Psychology". The video is over three hours long but I will still recommend it to readers – I was drawn to it myself because I have liked Munecat's videos in the past and because I myself have an allergy to evolutionary psychology that I developed some years ago, an aversion I didn't feel when I was younger. In this essay, I wish to discuss the video briefly and then discuss a few issues related to evolutionary biology: the concept of chance mutations, the central tenet that only the fittest survive, and the relation between genotype and phenotype. These issues are ones I have talked about before in this blog but I think there is value in discussing them again, hopefully a little more clearly. I don't pretend to be an expert on genetics and biology but what I think I can do is to take what I know and think through the implications it raises with some semblance of rationality. Hopefully I won't end up giving people the impression that I am someone like Terrence Howard who argued in a book published recently that one times one equals two. Hopefully my ruminations will be slightly more persuasive. In the next part of the essay I shall discuss a puzzle that may be philosophical or may be scientific: the existence of natural kinds and of emergence. I shall propose a speculative hypothesis concerning how evolution actually happens. This essay acquired a kind of unity in its writing that I hadn't expected that it would possess when I began it; and hopefully my general argument will make sense to readers even if they disagree with my conclusions.

I'll start with a silly and seemingly trivial observation. Munecat is a woman and it is nice to follow a very clever woman sometimes. I say this because almost all of the people I watch on Youtube are men: Sam Harris and Alex O'Conner and Bart Ehrman and Neil Degrasse Tyson and all the people they interview. It's a bit of a boys' club. It seems partly a result of the algorithm and partly because, in the world we live in today, men still end up being the principal communicators with respect to science, philosophy, and politics, that men float to the top of the list Youtube recommends. All the late night hosts I watch are men and this seems to reflect the opinion that people held a few decades ago that men were just naturally better at comedy than women. Of course, there are exceptions. The algorithm recommended Sabine Hossenfelder to me and I like Desi Lydic for instance. But you can still get the impression that we live in sexist societies, although this impressions seems to be diminishing. Historically, philosophy and physics have always been dominated by men but this is not, I believe, because men are any better at philosophising and mathematising than women but because of cultural factors that Munecat herself is well aware of. However, and I think this is an interesting thing to note, literature, my first and main love, has for a long time been very well balanced between men and women. Starting perhaps with pioneers like George Eliot, Jane Austen, Mary Shelly, and the Brontes, women have made a strong impression in the creative fields, in fiction and poetry as well as the visual arts, and if women can write stories as well as or better than men then there is no reason to suppose that they can not be equally good or better at science and metaphysics. Recently I have read a couple of fantastic books by women, Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver and Lord Jim at Home by Dinah Brooke. The latter I cannot recommend more highly.

The picture of the methodology behind evolutionary psychology that Munecat depicts is, I'm sure, accurate; before diving into the rest of the essay, I want to try to summarise it. The way evolutionary psychology tends to operate is that on that on the basis of a study on a few WEIRD psych students or of some informal observations of friends, family, and colleagues, evolutionary psychologists posit the existence of some contemporary universal psychological feature and then go on to propose some just-so-story that supposedly explains why this psychological feature appeared in prehistory, how it helped our ancestors survive and procreate during the Pleistocene. They often focus on sex differences. For instance, it was hypothesised in 1993 by Devendra Singh that a low waist-to-hip ratio makes women more attractive to men, that this attraction is a universal male psychological trait, a hypothesis that seems to have been bourn out by studies carried out since. Evolutionary psychologists then went on to propose multiple competing speculative explanations for why men had evolved to possess this attraction when they were still hunter-gatherers living in caves and hunting mastodons. One is that women with low waist-to-hip ratios were more likely to survive giving birth and thus more likely to produce progeny for the lusty cavemen who had impregnated them. A second is that a low waist-to-hip ratio is an indicator of health and fecundity. A third is that a low waist-to-hip ratio is one of a number of signifiers of femininity that enabled our male ancestors to distinguish between men and women. Consider another instance of evolutionary psychology hypothesising. Supposedly a universal difference between men and women is that men are naturally better at spatially rotating mental representations than women while women are better at remembering where stuff is and at systematising social relations. The just-so-story I have heard invented to explain this 'finding' is that during the Pleistocene men were out and about on the savannah throwing spears at megafauna while women were collecting berries and fruit and staying at home in the cave looking after the infants and each other. The implicit assumption made by evolutionary psychologists is that psychological traits like male attraction to wide hipped women and a superior male ability to rotate shapes in one's mind appeared during the Pleistocene or some other time in prehistory and have been passed down to all men today. The assumption seems to be that these traits are genetic, either carried on the Y chromosome or, if carried on some other chromosome, are activated by genes carried on the Y chromosome.

"I Debunked Evolutionary Psychology" is well researched and engaging but it faces a serious methodological problem. Wolfgang Pauli is credited with saying of a theory "It is not even wrong". (I had thought this was Karl Popper's appraisal of Freudian psychology but I suppose I should defer to the Internet.) The issue for Munecat is that even if evolutionary psychologists have failed to satisfactorily prove any of the hypotheses they regularly come up with, it is just as difficult to disprove them – we actually can't, given the current state of evolutionary science, either defend them or debunk them.  There are two ways to critique the 'science' of evolutionary psychology. First we could show that there are problems with the studies, that evolutionary psychologists are basing their hypotheses on bad science, on studies that are flawed and which have failed to be replicated. Munecat often gives examples of such flawed and debunked studies. But showing that the science has failed to prove the claims of evolutionary psychologists concerning the existence of particular contemporary universal psychological traits is not the same as saying that these claims are wrong, that these traits don't exist. The second way to criticise evolutionary psychology would be to question the other parts of the theory, the just-so-stories and the presumption that psychological traits are genetically inherited. To defend their hypotheses robustly, evolutionary psychologists really need a detailed understanding of the way our ancestors lived during the period when something known as the Environment of Evolutionary Adaptiveness obtained and, even if the notion of the EEA is plausible and they did have such an understanding, they would need to show that the psychological traits that appeared during this period are coded into all our DNA and have thus been inherited by all humans alive today. Currently however we lack any detailed understanding of the EEA, if it ever existed. For instance the assumption that men did all the hunting and the women did all the gathering during this period, an assumption informing many of the hypotheses, has been questioned. And I don't think there is any science that has either confirmed or disconfirmed the core tenet of evolutionary psychology that many psychological traits are genetic. (It is possible that a psychological trait could be hereditable without being genetic: I shall explore this idea later in the essay.) Munecat's second and better line of attack would be to show that these other pillars of the theory are wrong but I don't think she successfully undercuts them. Too often in criticising evolutionary psychologists she resorts to sarcasm and ad hominem attacks. I really enjoyed the video and I agree with her that evolutionary psychology is stupid but I don't think she has categorically debunked it.

It seems to me that in order to really mount an assault on evolutionary psychology we need an alternative theory of human psychology. But Munecat does not present any real alternative. She often relies on her audience implicitly sharing her view of how real men and women today actually behave but her view is never explicitly stated or theoretically grounded. Often she stresses the importance of culture – she adduces examples of how standards of female attractiveness have changed over time, how the ancient Romans understood homosexuality differently than people today do, and how Medieval Europeans had a different attitude to female sexuality than people today do. Towards the end of the video though she adopts a quite different tactic. She seems to cede to the evolutionary psychologists the claim that many psychological traits are genetic but stresses the apparent fact that there is considerable psychological variation between people. The picture she sketches is one in which a species like the human species, as a result of natural disasters like disease outbreaks, occasionally in history has been reduced to a small number of survivors, creating a genetic bottle neck, then subsequently balloons out in population size and in genetic diversity, presumably as a result of random mutations, until the next disaster occurs. This genetic diversity means that when the next natural disaster occurs there will be at least a few who will survive it because these few will have the necessary genes to cope with it. She seems to be suggesting that evolution deliberately increases variation within a species to ensure that the species will survive if something terrible happens to it. This picture seems peculiar to me and I do not think it is correct. Humans share 98.8 percent of our DNA with chimpanzees and so it must surely be the case that a woman in the UK is almost exactly genetically identical with a woman in Taiwan. Munecat overemphasises the genetic variation among humans. It may be that even though she does actually believe that psychological traits are the result of nurture rather than nature, she is saying that even if we were to assume that psychological traits are genetic, it would still not follow that all men and all women are psychologically identical to each other, as evolutionary psychologists seem to suggest. We should still assume that considerable variation exists.

Munecat's animus against evolutionary psychology is of course inspired by politics as well as reasoning. Evolutionary psychology, with its focus on sex differences, can easily be deployed to reinforce conservative stereotypes about male and female roles and psyches. It is often a reactionary ideology promulgated by men. The position that the differences between men and women is the result of culture rather than nature is core to Feminism just as the idea that sex differences are the result of nature rather than culture is core to evolutionary psychology. And Munecat is obviously critiquing evolutionary psychology from a Feminist position.

Any discussion of evolutionary psychology presupposes a theory of evolution more generally and this is what I want to turn to now. The notion I want to focus on first is that of random genetic mutations. Darwin originally proposed the theory of Natural Selection in 1859 and his basic idea is very simple: members of a species are almost exactly identical but some variation between individuals exist; individuals that are 'fitter' will tend to live to live longer and have more offspring than those that are less fit, meaning that over time the species as a whole will change, evolve. The whole species will become ever more suited to its ecological niche. Although Darwin himself toyed with the Lamarckian idea that acquired characteristics might be transmitted to offspring, Darwin generally left the question of where the variation came from open, didn't really explain where it came from. Soon after Darwin published his theory, people realised it had a hole: if suboptimal variants tend to be weeded out, over time we would expect the variation within a species to become smaller and smaller until it has reduced to nothing. Perhaps in the distant past there was considerable variation within a species but over time this variation would decrease until eventually evolution would just stop because there would no longer be any fitter variants for nature to select. The discovery of the structure of DNA, usually attributed to Watson and Crick, didn't happen until the 1950s and presumably it was not until soon after, although I am not sure when, that scientists decided that they had an explanation for the origin of variation: it came from random genetic mutations. As I think I understand it, when gametes are created through meiosis, occasionally a mistranscription occurs – a single nucleotide is changed which means either that the gene the nucleotide is a component of now codes for a slightly different protein or that this gene now affects other genes slightly differently. According to neo-Darwinists, these mutations are random. This is why Richard Dawkins called one of his books The Blind Watchmaker. This seems to resolve the paradox of how evolution continues. On the one hand, natural selection is constantly working to reduce the variation within a species but random genetic mutations are constantly replenishing the amount of variation. Evolution involves a tug-of-war between natural selection, which is constantly eliminating suboptimal genetic variants, and random genetic mutation, which is constantly creating new variants.

I have presented the basic idea of Neo-Darwinism before and, whenever I do, I feel that simply clearly stating it shows that it doesn't quite make sense. Richard Dawkins would hate me saying this but it involves several leaps of faith. First, I don't believe that the science around random mutations is at all well worked out. I think we know very little about why they happen, when they happen, where they happen, and how often they happen. It seems to me though that they must be very rare. Second, for evolution to occur, it requires the occurrence of a mutation that is beneficial to the organism born with it, that improves its fitness. Modern genetics has now established that a significant amount of the DNA in the human genome is what we call 'junk DNA'. It doesn't do anything. This means that often mutations have no phenotypic effect on an organism. Because we are concerned with evolution, we are only interested in mutations that have a phenotypic effect. It stands to reason that because a species such as, for instance, a goldfinch is already very well adapted to its ecological niche, if a random mutation occurs that does have a phenotypic effect, this effect is far more likely to be detrimental than beneficial. Evolution requires an enormous number of incremental changes, a enormous sequence of beneficial chance mutations, and the probabilities of such sequences appearing by chance is tiny.

So there is a problem with the idea of random genetic mutations as being key to evolution, a problem I will spell out more clearly in a moment. But, and this may surprise the reader, there is also a problem with natural selection. Consider the following little story which I think will illustrate the problem. Suppose a pigeon is born with a random mutation which makes it ever so slightly better at flying than its compatriots. Neo-Darwinists will say that this should make it slightly fitter than other members of its species and therefore, almost as a matter of necessity, it will survive longer and have more offspring than other pigeons in its environment. But what if it is eaten by a cat before it can leave the nest? What if dies from some disease or is infested by a tapeworm or is swept out to sea by a freak storm before it can mate? What if it mates with a pigeon that is barren? What if it is born with other genes that are disadvantageous, washing away the benefit of the better-flying gene? Alternatively we might consider a pigeon that is born with a slightly detrimental mutation to its flying genes but which is lucky enough to live near plentiful food sources and amenable mates. It may seem that I am being persnickety but the point I am getting at here is that even if an organism is born with a random mutation that is ever so slightly beneficial to it, there are an enormous number of chance events that might occur to it which will stop it breeding and thus impede the evolutionary process; similarly a slightly inferior individual might end up with good luck and so easily introduce inferior genes into the gene pool. Look at the world and consider the number of random disasters that can occur to an individual and it seems obvious that the very very slight advantage of having a very very small beneficial genetic mutation can easily overwhelmed by bad luck. Boethius was a fan of Providence and Hamlet says, "There is a special providence in the fall of a sparrow" but Neo-Darwinists such as, for instance, Richard Dawkins are committed to the idea that all creatures are subject to the vicissitudes of chance, that randomness plays an enormous role in the world, that no design is at work. Yet they still seem to treat Evolution as a kind of Transcendental Signifier, a mystical force that will always produce the best possible result, always ensure the Survival of the Fittest. I think that if evolutionary biologists like Dawkins want to  be consistent, they should either admit some other mechanism must be at work or replace the slogan "Survival of the Fittest" with the slogan "Survival of the Luckiest".

Let us consider some sort of significant adaption that a species might possess, like having nostrils at the end of its beak as a kiwi does or the mostly green colouration of kea. Traditional evolutionary biologists argue that such a significant adaptation is the result of an enormous number of very small genetic alterations. What is the probability that such an adaption could evolve as a result of natural selection acting on chance mutations? We would need to multiply the probability of a mutation occurring by the probability of this mutation being beneficial and contributing towards the establishment of the adaption and then multiply this product by the probability of the organism possessing the mutation avoiding any unwanted disasters and propagating its genes with such success that the whole species evolves. We would need to perform this calculation for every one of the small genetic alterations needed for the finished adaption to appear and then multiply all the results together. I do not know how to carry out this calculation or even if such a calculation is practicable but it seems likely to me that the probability of such an adaption appearing is absolutely tiny. Furthermore such calculations are complicated by the fact that not only do species change over time but so do the ecological niches they inhabit; the fitness of an organism is contingent on the environment it happens to find itself in at some time. Evolutionary biology requires an assumption that species are ever better adapting themselves to environments that remain static, stable, but in fact the environments are also usually evolving. Insects in the Amazon have evolved to pollinate orchids but orchids have also evolved to be pollinated by insects.

When faced with the extraordinary improbabilities involved in evolution, evolutionary biologists tend to argue that, yes, evolution involves the occurrence of extremely unlikely events, but because evolution occurs over billions of years, extremely unlikely events should be expected to occur frequently enough for evolution to happen. This is the idea behind Dawkins' book Climbing Mount Improbable.  My feeling is that the improbabilities involved are so great that billions of years are not long enough. Furthermore we might consider that throughout Earth's history there have often been total environmental resets: the dinosaurs, apart from the ancestors of today's birds, were wiped out by an asteroid or comet and all of today's mammals descend from creatures that were then apparently a bit like squirrels. The natural history of life on Earth seems to involve distinct phases rather than being an orderly, linear process of development. (Something worth mentioning here is the theory of punctuated equilibrium but I won't explore it in this essay.) We cannot explain human evolution by appealing to billions of years of evolution but only to millions of years of evolution. Let's return to evolutionary psychology. Let us consider again the traits mentioned above that are supposed to be genetic, such as male attraction to wide hipped women or the supposed mental ability of men to rotate objects in their minds better than women. These traits are supposed to have appeared, as a result of random mutations, during the period when our ancestors lived in the Environment of Evolutionary Adaptiveness. How long was this period? Was it long enough for such significant evolution to occur, for an enormous number of chance mutations to arise for nature to then successfully select? Furthermore we also seem to require an additional assumption – that the natural and cultural environment humans inhabited during this period, their niche, remained mostly static for the whole time; this assumption also seems implausible. If this period of some static Environment of Evolutionary Adaptiveness did occur but only lasted a couple of hundred thousand years, and perhaps a lot less, as seems realistic, this does not seem to be long enough for modern human nature to evolve.

The arguments I am making are far from ironclad but I believe they are strong enough to buttress my main claim. When mutations occur they do not occur at random and must occur to a number of individuals in a species at the same time. The traditional alternative is too improbable to be credible. And if mutations occur to a number of individuals at the same time and are in some sense purposive it seems that in order to explain evolution we need to invoke something supernatural or immaterial. In making this claim, a claim I will come back to later, I am still conceding to evolutionary biologists their doctrine that genotype determines phenotype. But in the next part of the essay I shall present an argument suggesting that this too is wrong.

Scientists and laypeople alike often tend to imagine that the genome of an organism is a kind of blueprint for the organism. However recent research suggests that the human genome contains less than 20,000 protein-coding genes. (I am not getting this number from Munecat's video because I wasn't able to locate the moment when she mentions it but rather from what I can find online.) Not all genes are protein-coding – some affect how other genes are expressed. A gene can be defined as a sequence of DNA building blocks that performs some function and different people can possess different versions of a gene, known as alleles. For instance, humans all possess a gene for eye-colour but one person can have the blue-eyes allele and another the hazel-eyes allele. (This is a bit of an oversimplification but it conveys the basic idea.) Now consider the following observation about humans. Human beings are constituted by an enormous number of different types of cell: kidney cells, neurones, two types of blood cell, marrow cells, muscle cells, etc. Every cell contains the exact same DNA (except gametes). The DNA in the nucleus of every individual cell would then have to contain instructions for the creation and functioning of every single other type of cell in the body as well as itself. Furthermore it would have to contain instructions for how all these cells fit together so that each of us has two arms, two legs, a liver in the appropriate place, and so on. It would need to contain instructions for all the different parts of the human brain such as the hypothalamus, visual cortex, frontal cortex, and so on, and how they all fit together. Furthermore the more microbiologists investigate individual cells, the more complexity they find even within any one single cell. What I would like to claim here is that 20,000 is not a sufficiently high enough number of protein-coding genes to explain the complexity of a particular human, to be the blueprint for that person.

Let's return to evolutionary psychology. Recall that evolutionary psychologists often operate by noting some apparently universal feature of contemporary human psychology and then seek to explain it by inventing a just-so story of how it was beneficial to our Pleistocene ancestors. What they never do is describe the mechanism by which such a feature has been inherited from our hunter-gatherer ancestors. If evolutionary psychologists were really serious, they would try to identify the gene or genes that code for, e.g, sexual attraction and then show how men today generally possess alleles that makes them prefer a low waist-to-hip ratio. They would need to show how some gene codes for some protein that somehow affects the wiring of the brain that somehow makes men find wide-hipped women alluring. They haven't done this. I think that an attraction to wide-hipped women is far too complex to be coded for by DNA sequences, even if we assume that it somehow arises from the combined effect of many genes. It requires a level of complexity that the genome apparently lacks. Even if this mechanism does indeed exist, the science needed to prove that it exists is currently out of reach: we would need some grand synthesis of genetics, psychology, and neuroscience. This failure to describe the genetic mechanism through which psychological traits are transmitted intergenerationally and expressed is the fatal flaw in evolutionary psychology. Munecat does not point out this fatal defect, perhaps because it had simply not occurred to her – it is a pity she omits the objection.

Let us suppose for the sake of the argument that we do resemble our hunter-gatherer ancestors psychologically as well as physically. If the genome is not complex enough to explain the emergence of psychological traits but we have indeed inherited psychological traits from our cavemen ancestors, then logically it must be through some means other than DNA. Perhaps there is some kind of cultural transmission – perhaps boys are subliminally encouraged to prefer wide-hipped women by their parents and peers who were similarly inculcated with this preference by their parents and peers in a chain that can be traced back to the Pleistocene. This would be to assume again, though, that men have always preferred wide-hipped women. Or perhaps there is some kind of immaterial formative influence. This immaterial formative influence would affect the development of organisms physically as well as mentally. Perhaps the blueprint of a human, body and mind, is not to be found in chromosomes but somehow somewhere else. This blueprint would be analogous to a soul. Thinking like this is what led Rupert Sheldrake to come up with his theory of Morphic Resonance and it is helpful to remember that Sheldrake was inspired to arrive at his theory partly by thinking a lot about ontogenesis – it seemed to him, as it seems to me, that the development of an animal from zygote to adult is too complex to be explained simply through orthodox genetics. In this essay I have confined myself almost entirely to humans but these arguments can also be applied to other animals. Weaver birds construct elaborate nests to attract their mates and male birds-of-paradise perform elaborate dances when wooing females. Evolutionary psychologists need to persuade us that these characteristic behaviours are genetically determined somehow – but again in order to properly justify this claim they would need to identify the genes responsible and explain the mechanism that leads to the behaviour as they would need to do for humans. Similarly, they would need to show that the behaviours of dogs, such as guarding properties and wagging their tails when happy, are genetically determined, that the behaviours of cats, such as purring when happy and leaving dead birds on their owners' doorsteps, are genetically determined, and that the behaviour of chimpanzees when making nests is genetically determined. To explain behaviours in terms of DNA is, to put it mildly, challenging, and might be impossible.

Earlier I proposed that when a mutation occurs, it occurs to a number of individuals within a species at the same time and that it is not random but purposive. In this part of the essay, I still conceded to the evolutionary biologists that mutations might be alterations in DNA but in the next part I argued that phenotype can only be partially explained by genotype. This leads me to suggest that we can regard evolution as involving small changes in the phenotype of the whole species that occur almost all at once rather than as resulting from changes in genotype that occur to individuals and then gradually disperse through the whole population. In this spirit we could redefine the term 'mutation' as being some small purposive change in the phenotype of the whole species rather than being a small random change in genotype of an individual. This idea is obviously fairly radical and I am sure that it may annoy and exasperate some of my readers. If Richard Dawkins or Robert Sapolsky were to read this essay, they would probably say that I simply don't understand the science.

I turn now to the next part of the essay, a part concerned more with philosophy than with evolutionary biology. However, as you'll see, the ideas I want to present closely align with the arguments I have made concerning evolution and tend toward a kind of synthesis.

Living organisms are made entirely of carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, nitrogen, and a few other trace elements. Going deeper, all the stuff we care about, all the material stuff, is made fundamentally of protons, neutrons, and electrons. However, when we look at the world we see natural kinds of things everywhere – we see cats and dogs and pigeons and apple trees and so on. A cat is made of protons, neutrons, and electrons like all other material things but when we look at it we see a cat. Furthermore there is not just one cat in the world but many cats. Although any one cat is at least a little different from any other cat, there are far more resemblances between them than differences. Cats constitute a natural kind. Philosophers describe the fact that a cat seems to have this property, cat-ness, over and above its constituent components as emergence, and there is considerable debate about whether this emergent property exists somehow independently of its substrata or not. I would prefer to say about emergence that we perceive this property, cat-ness, of some things in the world and not of others regardless of whether or not this property is truly emergent. However evolution actually works, it has furnished us with a world of innumerable distinct species and although a horse can breed with a donkey and produce a (sterile) mule, for instance, each distinct species tends to keep to itself reproductively. Cats don't mate with dogs and different species of frogs don't mate with each other or with toads. This brute fact about the natural world, that natural kinds exist, is helpful to humans because it means that our words for different species, words like 'cat' and 'dog', latch onto types of things that we actually observe in the world. The instrumental pragmatic utilisation of language relies on the actual existence of different kinds of thing. Not only are there natural kinds in the world, there are also artifactual kinds, types of things made by people, such as knives and forks and tables and chairs and ovens, and so on. When manufacturing tools and technologies, humans have always found it practically desirable to manufacture distinct types of tool and technology, each of which has a distinct purpose. Again the fact that we craft distinct types of artifact is helpful to humans linguistically; it means the words in our language that denote various artifactual kinds such as 'knife' and 'fork' latch onto types of things that we actually make and find in our world. The languages we created with all their common nouns would be practically useless unless different kinds of things actually existed in the world.

To me there seems a profound mystery about the existence of natural and artifactual kinds of these sorts but when I try to discuss this with people they don't really get why I find it so puzzling. I am not sure if this puzzle should be resolved philosophically or scientifically. One way to make the mystery involved more apparent is to contrast this view with the philosophical position known as mereological nihilism (a position that fascinates Alex O'Conner). Adherents to this view think that tables don't exist – all that exist are arrangements of protons, electrons, and neutrons that taken together give the false impression to human observers that they are looking at tables. The reason I think this view is wrong is that even if you and I disagree about many things, I think we should agree that there are actually cats and dogs and tables in the world. Mereological nihilism involves a rejection of our shared reality, a rejection of common sense. Philosophers sometimes get swept away by bad ideas. A few decades ago, when Postmodernism was more in vogue than it is now, it was common for philosophers and theorists to claim that reality is wholly a linguistic construction but it has for a long time seemed to me that this view involves a denial of the brute observable fact that very many of our words denote natural and artifactual kinds that genuinely do exist. The Ancient Greek philosopher Parmenides argued that the world is a single unchanging unity, that plurality and change are illusions, and that we should put all our faith in pure reason rather than sense data – but it seems to me that it would be bad advice to tell someone crossing the street that she should regard the cars driving along it as illusory. Quantum physicists like David Deutsch who favour the Many-Worlds interpretation of quantum physics fail to account for the brute observable fact that we only observe one world rather than an infinite number of all possible worlds all at once. I am certainly not trying to suggest that all received wisdom is correct but in order to get anywhere we need some shared understanding of the world, an understanding based on perception and on the confidence we place in those we trust that they will provide us with accurate information. And this shared understanding should surely involve beliefs in the existence of cats and dogs and tables.

Plato famously proposed that all horses in the world are imperfect copies of an archetypal ideal Horse that exists in some mystical realm of Ideas or Forms. (In Ulysses, Stephen Daedalus memorably says: "Horseness is the Whatness of Allhorse.") It is worth remembering that for Plato the world was eternal and unchanging, not in the strong sense defended by Parmenides but rather in a weaker sense – Plato thought that horses had always existed and would always exist in pretty much the same form that they had when he was alive. Plato didn't know about evolution. When we consider that when a craftsman creates an artifactual kind such as a knife or fork or table, he or she has an idea of what he or she is going to make before making it, an abstract generic conception in his or her mind, and so it does not seem wholly irrational to suppose by analogy that the Ideas of the archetypal Cat and Dog and Pigeon and Horse exist first in the mind of some transcendental entity that we can call God. This is one reason why the early Christian theologians liked Plato so much. I certainly don't want to push a Christian metaphysics on people in this essay. However I do want to propose a few speculations concerning a supernatural or mystical explanation for the existence of natural kinds.

What I would like to suggest is that there is some kind of unifying Idea informing or influencing or subsuming every particular natural kind, kinds such as cats and dogs and humans. This Idea has causal power – it influences the development of organisms belonging to the group from conception on and ensures that members of a natural kind more closely resemble each other than members of other species. It can also influence the development of the whole species and even cause one species to evolve into another or into multiple different species. My proposal is not dissimilar to Sheldrake's theory of Morphic Resonance but Sheldrake's theory, as he has admitted himself, does not account for why species change, how novelty or what he calls creativity arises. I would like to suggest that a natural kind such as the cat-kind or dog-kind or human-kind might possess a sort of collective mind or soul or agency that not only produces conformity among members of the species but also directs the evolution of the species in a purposive way. It might also be that the minds or souls of others not included in the species might also affect the Idea of that species: during domestication, humans might have affected or created the Idea of Dog and the Idea of Dog may also have affected the Idea of Human. To reiterate what I said above, when a mutation occurs it must occur to a number of individuals at the same time and for a reason. This may seem an extraordinary proposal to readers because we tend to regard ourselves as independent individuals whereas I am suggesting that humanity has a sort of collective soul that influences the human community mentally and over the long term physically, a sort of hivemind or group intelligence that affects an individual's actions and cognitions and even physical development without the individual person necessarily being consciously aware of it. It is difficult to find the right words to describe this concept but Jung's theory of the Collective Unconscious comes close to capturing it. A change in one member of a species instantaneously affects other members of the species. This proposal requires us to accept two notions that scientists and philosophers have tended to find objectionable: top-down-causation and action at a distance. Even though Newton's theory of Universal Gravitation seemed to involve action at a distance, this implication of his theory didn't sit well with him and he said about it, in Principia, "Hypotheses non fingo". Einstein didn't like the notion of action at a distance either and his theory of General Relativity is a theory of gravity that does away with it; as readers remember of course, the main reason Einstein didn't like the direction quantum physics had taken during his lifetime is that it seemed to him to entail "spooky action at a distance". However I have never understood why rational people have found the notion of action at a distance so repugnant. Newton himself was a devout Christian and so presumably believed in an omnipotent and omnipresent God. And today the phenomenon of quantum entanglement has convinced many physicists that some form of action at a distance must indeed exist. (I won't talk about quantum physics again in this essay because I have written about it so many times before except to say, as I have said before, that quantum physics allows for the possibility of top-down causation and action at a distance.)

This theory does indeed hypothesise an almost mystical relationship between language and the world, and there is an notion in linguistics that, whatever your views on evolution, is profoundly relevant to evolution. Saussure distinguished between synchronic and diachronic perspectives on language. The first involves looking at a language at a particular time and is analogous to looking at the natural world now and identifying and cataloguing all the different distinct species in it; the second involves looking at how language changes over time and is analogous to the paleontological perspective in which we seek to describe how one species gradually changes into another or ramifies into more than one species. The synchronic perspective involves looking at the natural world and dividing it into multiple distinct different natural kinds and from this perspective the Platonic conception of multiple natural kinds each ruled by a particular Platonic Idea seems reasonable; from the diachronic perspective however, we cannot draw a sharp line between one Idea and another. This complicates my theory but I shall not attempt to untangle this puzzle here.

It may seem, perversely, that the theory I have proposed could be used to defend something akin to evolutionary psychology and that I have contradicted myself. Even if evolutionary psychologists were to accept that psychological traits do not arise originally from random genetic mutations, they could still argue that modern men and women are influenced by the Idea of Man and the Idea of Woman, the idea of Human generally, and that these Ideas haven't altered significantly since the Pleistocene: the methods of evolutionary psychologists, identifying some supposedly universal modern human psychological trait and then inventing just-so stories about cavemen and cavewomen to explain it, would then still be justified. In my theory however, the Ideas associated with natural kinds can change over time, were not set in stone during some period in prehistory. It may be that some collective soul affects the evolution of a species, as I have suggested, or it may be that not only does the Idea associated with a particular natural kind influence the individuals included within the grouping but that individuals within the group can also influence the Idea, not through being born with random genetic mutations that then gradually disperse through the whole population out but through their actions and intentions. The fact that I alluded to in the first part of the essay, that more and more women are getting into STEM fields, could of course be explained as resulting from the waning power of the patriarchy but it might also be explained by supposing that, partly because of the work of female pioneers, the Idea of Woman has changed and is continuing to change, that it is broadening to allow women to also be good at mathematics and physics. The word "schizophrenic" is almost always considered to denote some sort of natural kind by people and it seems to me that this (false) idea of 'schizophrenic' in the collective imagination actually has a malign influence on people who have been unlucky enough to be labelled with the word, that it affects their behaviours and cognitions – this is because ordinary people generally have a very imprecise and usually inaccurate understanding of the meaning of the word 'schizophrenic' that they almost never explicitly articulate but still indirectly communicate, as Munecat herself does in the part of the video in which she discusses schizophrenia, and this somehow affects 'schizophrenics'. Yet it might be possible to change the meaning of the word or even, as I want to do, get rid of the term 'schizophrenic' entirely. We could start by trying to convince the community that, whatever we might want to agree that it means, the word 'schizophrenic' does not denote a fixed congenital and irremediable natural kind. Perhaps our understanding of words should sometimes yield to ethical considerations. 

I'll conclude the essay by saying something about the essay itself. I am well aware that readers who are already sympathetic to the types of argument I have advanced will find it more persuasive than people who have already made up their minds before they read it that Neo-Darwinism is absolutely correct. I am unlikely to change anyone's mind with this essay even though I would like to. My methodology may seem odd – I am using some parts of science, such as the finding that there are less than 20,000 protein-coding genes, to criticise other parts of science, in particular the Modern Synthesis. But any rhetorical argument depends on such cherry picking. If I were to simply reproduce the scientific consensus, assuming such consensus existed, I would be saying nothing new;  but nor can I make my argument entirely out of whole cloth. On the one hand I seemed to criticise the Postmodern claim that reality is wholly a linguistic construction by asserting that this claim involves a denial of common sense and then almost immediately pivoted to a position that is arguably quite close to Postmodernism, the claim that our beliefs about the world can affect the world. It would take too long to clarify my position concerning this here in this essay. Relatedly, my use of the Platonic term "Idea" is somewhat ambiguous but I think this ambiguity is productive rather than destructive. Finally it may seem that my general thesis in this essay contradicts the theory I elaborated in a recent essay, "The Meaning of Meaning". That earlier essay was far more cynical, far more materialist than this one. It possessed a kind of nihilistic sensibility we associate with Nietzsche and the Postmodern theorists he influenced. However it has seemed to me for a long time that the natural successor to Postmodernism is some sort of mysticism, that this is the next natural development in this line of thought. Although my thesis is in some sense mystical, it is not religious; generally the reason religious people embrace theism is that they hope religious faith will guarantee them personal immortality and my thesis doesn't imply anything about personal immortality at all. It may be that I will be able to reconcile the thesis of this essay and the theory I proposed in "The Meaning of Meaning" in a later essay.

One final thing, something to do with my life which should be not taken as part of the essay but which I am mentioning just in case some readers might be interested. Just over a fortnight ago I had an appointment with my psychiatrist. For some time I have been on the lowest possible dosage of Olanzapine offered, 210mgs a month. At this appointment, my psychiatrist was willing to let me go off medication entirely but, partly because my parents are chary about complete discontinuation, I have arranged to take 210mgs every six weeks for the next several months. This apparently means I have gone "off label". I don't mind this too much. I believe I have "recovered", in fact believe that I recovered a long time ago, but the issue here is that because it is almost impossible to define the term "schizophrenia", it is consequently almost impossible to define the term "recovery". My psychiatrist wants to describe me as a "high functioning schizophrenic" I think because psychiatrists are generally unwilling to admit that it might be possible to recover from schizophrenia. If they did, the whole of psychiatry would fall apart. The psychiatrists themselves lack an adequate definition for the word "schizophrenic" and even less of a definition for the term "high functioning schizophrenic" but still this is the term my psychiatrist wants to attach to me. I feel slightly uneasy that I may have to live with the label "high functioning schizophrenic" for the rest of my life even when I am no longer taking medication but I may have no other option. It may be that I should write a post sometime soon concerning the term "recovery" and how and when it happened to me, to help others and to influence psychiatry generally, If I feel comfortable enough to write about this, I may make it the subject of the next post.

Sunday, 30 June 2024

These Truths We Hold To Be Self Evident

A couple of months ago I submitted a short story to The New Yorker but I think it is unlikely that they are going to publish it. So I have decided to publish it here. I'll make a note about it: this story began as a satire, a black comedy, but it may not be easy to tell when I am being satiric. A friend of mine who read it said that it lacked a story – this is a problem I have with some but not all of my stories. Nevertheless I think there is muh in this story that makes it something worth reading.

In my next post which I shall publish next week I'll get back to philosophy.

***

These Truths We Hold To Be Self Evident

    The activists participating in the Queer rights march had begun assembling in the town square from mid-morning on, milling about and chatting with each other, catching up with friends they knew though college or Facebook and Instagram and striking up new friendships with allies they were meeting for the first time. Chai lattes and samosas bought from the food stalls set up by queer friendly entrepreneurs who, heeding the call of the profit motive, followed such demonstrations from city to city were, respectively, sipped and nibbled.  Independent observers might have noted considerable diversity among the protestors in terms of race, ethnicity, and sexual and gender expression, although less so in terms of socio-economic status. There were not a few drag queens to be spotted among the campaigners, many of whom were perhaps simply indulging in transvestitism for the day and would go back to wearing suits and ties for their jobs as lawyers and bank managers the next. Butch dykes in Doc Martins and sporting rockabilly style quiffs wandered about in pairs. Male throwbacks to the ‘seventies and ‘eighties in mesh vests, leather pants and jackets, black PVC caps, and sporting Freddy Mercury moustaches, gathered in small clusters. Generally however the contingent, who were mostly generation Z, could have passed for any group of young adults you might find gathered together for a dorm party or college graduation ceremony. There was a buzz in the air, a palpable sense of anticipation, an almost gay atmosphere. The apposite word to describe their feelings was ‘solidarity’ – they were comrades united by a common cause, partisans striking a blow in favour of human rights against a reactionary establishment. It felt so good to be among friends, among allies. The march was due to start at noon.
    The march was taking place in the small city of Jacksonville, population 50,000, one of several cities in the South with that name, in the Florida panhandle. Most of the participants, like most of the vendors, came from out of town. A typical resident of Jacksonville wouldn’t have known what a chai latte or samosa was if one had bitten him. The march was one of many planned across the state in opposition to Ron Desantis’s “Don’t Say Gay” bill. This was of course a topic of considerable controversy throughout the nation and the demonstrators were almost outnumbered by members of the media. Journalists from all the major networks and local and national newspapers were present to cover the story which was being talked of as a barometer of the political mood of the nation. An enormous number of social media influencers were also in attendance. Of course the journalists, among them Alice Moretz, who worked for a local Florida news outlet, knew the real reason for the coverage, although it was not something she or other media workers would own up to publicly. Legacy media was dying. But a surefire way to attract readers and viewers was to report on stories related to gender and sexuality. Stories like these were catnip for the masses. Cynical, yes, but you needed to pay the bills somehow. The population of the whole country was evenly divided between those who ardently supported the LGBTQIA+ community and those who thought America was literally going to hell and that Christ was coming back any day soon to sort the saved from the sinners; either way, reporting on the march would pull in a sizeable audience.
    Alice and her cameraman had located a couple of activists wiling to be interviewed and brought them to the edge of the square. The first of the two, Beatrice, was a certified therapist and psychologist specialising in issues of child and adolescent identity, and the second, Daniel, was a recent liberal arts graduate from Ohio. They had met earlier in the day and connected over their shared admiration for Bernie Sanders and AOC. Alice asked them if they wanted to share anything with “viewers here in the US or around the world”.
    Beatrice immediately seized the opportunity, speaking up above the hubbub around her. “Yes, there is something important I want to say. The most important thing for people to understand about gender and sexuality is that they are inherent. What happens in classrooms can’t change them. You can’t make someone gay. A person’s sexuality and gender is something they’re born with. Every day more and more scientific evidence is coming to light, scientific evidence that shows that there are neurological differences between people that exist from birth, neurological differences that explain why people express their genders and sexualities the way they do later on in adulthood. The “Don’t Say Gay” bill is anti-science. It’s anti-compassion. It’s deeply ignorant and harmful. I actually think it is evil. It will hurt children and adolescents. Children need to grow up in environments in which they can safely express who they are. Children need to be affirmed in their identities.This is why it is vitally important that issues to do with identity be discussed openly and honestly with children at home and in schools. Not talking about these things with children can only be a recipe for serious mental illness later on in life. This is what we know now.”
    “Do you identify as queer yourself?” asked Alice.
    “Personally I identify as a cisgender heterosexual female,” said Beatrice, a little reluctantly. “But I am here in support of my clients. Sometimes it can take a person years to come to terms with who they are.”
    “And what about you Daniel? How do you identify?”
    “I identify as a non-binary pansexual,” enunciated Daniel carefully.
    “That’s interesting,” said Alice, curiosity piqued. “When did you know you were pansexual? 
    “I think I always knew I was different from other people and didn’t know why,” Daniel said after considering for a moment. “Then I did a course at college about sexuality and gender and it got me thinking. And then I did some research on Youtube. I mean, I think now that the signs were always there. I had male friends as well as female friends when I was growing up. I liked Ryan Gosling and Liam Hemsworth. I also liked Taylor Swift. I was always more of a fan of Emo bands than f football. I mean, I think now that it was obvious.”
    “What’s the difference between pansexuality and bisexuality?” asked the cameraman.
    “Well, for me,” said Daniel, after considering for another moment, “pansexuality means that you like everything. I like animals. I mean, for instance, I like whales. I’m a member of Greenpeace. I’m very worried about climate change. I’m very concerned about the situation in the Middle East. For me, pansexuality aligns with my political commitments. And it’s not just animals, I also like inanimate objects. I have an XBox that I play quite a lot. I like that XBox. So I guess I would say that for me pansexuality is all about liking everything and not limiting yourself to just liking human members of the opposite sex.”
    “The important thing to remember,” Beatrice interposed, perhaps sensing the Daniel was muddying the waters, “is that Daniel was born a non-binary pansexual. Most people are born with brains that have the same gender as their assigned biological sex but some biological men are born with female brains and some biological women are born with male brains. Daniel was born with a brain that is exactly fifty percent male and fifty percent female.”
    “There’s another thing,” Daniel went on. “It’s not just gender stuff. I’m autistic. I have Autism Spectrum Disorder. I think its important to fight for the rights of autistic people.”
    “Was it like when you realised you were pansexual? Was there a moment when you knew you were autistic?”
    “It’s like I said before – I always knew I was different from other people. And then I found some people talking about autism on Youtube. And I realised I had all the signs. I have something called mono-tropism. Sometimes I play Legend of Zelda for hours on end on my XBox. And sometimes I miss social cues and sometimes I don’t always make eye contact. When I realised I had autism, everything fell into place. I felt massively better about myself.”
    The cameraman, unable to help himself, interjected again. “I have a cousin who’s autistic. He goes to a special school, doesn’t talk at all, and throws tantrums because people can’t understand him.”
    “There’s enormous ignorance out there about autism,” Beatrice explained, she hoped in a non-condescending fashion. “You have to draw a distinction between classical autism and Autism Spectrum Disorder. Only a few people have classical autism but many people have Autism Spectrum Disorder. It’s something else you’re born with. Some people have it and some people don’t. It’s on a spectrum. It’s just like with gender and sexuality – autistic people are born neurologically different to other people. This is the something I can’t emphasise enough, that neurodiversity is a real thing. Different kinds of people are born with different kinds of brain. For instance, did you know that Einstein was autistic? It can be very helpful to the self-esteem of autistic people to find out how many famous people in history were probably autistic.”
    “I didn’t know Einstein was autistic,” said the cameraman.
    “Of course he was autistic! Isn’t it obvious? For one thing, you can tell he was autistic because he was good at math.”
    In the square, the demonstrators were experimentally raising and lowering a banner emblazoned with all the colours of the rainbow and the slogan “Unity in Diversity”. Mark, the cameraman, allowed his gaze to drift over to it. Sometimes he had considered quitting the whole news production game and pursuing his true passion, graphic design. It had been his major at college. Of course, with the advent of AI, graphic designers were probably going to become obsolete. Or maybe he could chuck in the whole television thing and see if there was any feasible way he could break into proper film work. Anything that would be a change from the endless parade of numbnuts he saw daily. But manning the camera for a TV network was a steady job, at least for now, and would help him pay off his Skoda and pay down his student debt at least a little.
    “Mark! Concentrate!”
    “Sorry. I was just checking the light conditions.”
    “Just a followup question,” said Alice to Daniel again. “I’m interested to know. Daniel – do you currently have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend?”
    “At the moment I have a girlfriend,” Daniel said, slightly awkwardly. “She’s not here today. But that doesn’t mean,” he went on more animatedly, “that tomorrow I wont’t get into a relationship with my XBox. Or maybe with a whale.”
    On a neighbouring street, the inevitable counterdemonstration was taking shape. A far larger proportion of the protestors in this group were locals, mostly made up of committed Baptists from surrounding congregations. Many of them had arrived at the town centre on hired coaches directly from church, organised by church leaders. Jeff Stevens, an associate of Alice working for the same TV station, had managed to coral a couple of Desantis supporters, Amos, who helped manage a peach farm, and Gloria, who had identified herself to Jeff as a homemaker. As Alice had, Jeff kickstarted the interview by asking them if they had anything to say to “viewers here in the US and around the world”.
    “We’re here to send a message to all these gays and libs that the lifestyles they’re pushing on our kids is an abomination in the eyes of the Lord,” said Gloria enthusiastically, grabbing the chance. “God hates gays and Jesus hated gays. We’re here because in the Holy Book it quite clearly states that Jehova created man and woman, not thirty-seven different genders. We’re here because Jesus quite clearly said that marriage is between a man and a woman. We don’t want our kids being taught in schools that sodomy and bestiality and necrophilia are just lifestyle choices. We don’t want our children being sexualised and groomed by pedophile Democrat teachers. We’re here because people need to wake up,realise that the other side is ignorant and evil. We don’t want our kids being encouraged to choose to be gay. Righteous God-fearing folk need to take a stand before the world slides into total depravity and we need to to do it now, before Christ comes back to judge us all.”
    “So you agree with Governor Desantis that there should be no talk of sex or gender in schools? No sex education at all?”
    “I think that it is the responsibility of parents to talk about the birds and bees with their children when the children are old enough,” said Gloria, relaxing for a moment. Then she grew animated again. “We don’t want teachers grooming and sexualising our kids. We don’t want teachers encouraging our kids to turn gay. Righteous God-fearing folk like Governor Desantis and President Trump are fighting the good fight against all the queer Democrats and their liberal agenda. People like Bernie Sanders and AOC. All these lefty liberals. They use the word ‘gay’ all the time. Gay this and gay that. Gay, gay, gay. They never stop saying the word ‘gay’. I talk about this with my girlfriends all the time when we get together for canasta of an evening, all the secret pedophiles in Hollywood and New York, how they like to drink the blood of babies, how they’re trying to destroy this country. We don’t talk about this when the kids are up – we always try to make sure the kids are in bed first – but we talk about this a lot.  And I see stuff about this on Truth Social all the time. If President Trump were still president, which he still is, he would never have allowed this to happen.”
    “Do you identify as a Republican?”
    “Damn straight, I do. The Democrat party is the party of godless liberal elitists. Like Bernie Sanders and AOC. The Republican party is the party of the working class.”
    Amos, by temperament taciturn and undemonstrative, a solid man of few words, had been waiting his turn quietly. When Jeff turned to Amos to ask him the next question, Amos quite clearly noted the way Jeff looked at him. The journalist was quite clearly giving him the glad eye. Fucking faggot, Amos thought to himself.
    “And what about you, Amos? If you could say anything to the world, what would it be?”
    “I believe,” Amos began, deliberately, quietly but not so quietly that he couldn’t be heard over the noise of the crowd, “that the United States is a Christian country, that it was founded on Christian principles. I believe it has lost its way. I believe in family and family values. I believe in raising our kids right, in teaching them good from bad. I have a wife. I have three boys and I am afraid of the world they’re gonna live in after I’m dead. Supposing Jesus doesn’t come back to judge us first. If my daddy were still alive – my daddy was a preacher – if he were still alive and he knew about this here march he would spit blood. He’s probably spinning in his grave right now. This march is an attack on the rights of parents to bring up their children as they should, to walk in the light of God.”
    “So you also support Donald Trump?”
    “I do. President Trump is a a true Christian man. I truly believe that he was put on Earth by God to save the United States from ruin, from the Communists and the perverts who want to drag us all down into perdition. Pardon the language. I believe that when he gets back into office, President Tump will take action against them. I don’t know quite what he’s gonna do but he’s said he’s our retribution. Maybe he’ll do something we’ll never know about. There’s a war going on in this country and I believe President Trump is on the right side of it. Trump is an instrument of God’s justice, and of God’s mercy, and whatever he does and however he does it, it’ll be God’s will. I have faith in President Trump.”
    When the interview had finished, the reporters moved on to find other subjects to talk to. Amos wandered for a while among the Desantis supporters, sick at heart, without speaking to anyone, and then decided to go home early. He didn’t have the stomach to stay. He could leave it to his wife and the boys to hold down the fort. Because he had left early, Amos wasn’t present when the mass shooting occurred and only heard about it in the late afternoon – we’ll come back to the mass shooting in a moment. At home, Amos strayed from room to room, from the kitchen to the dining room, and back again. A black mood had descended upon him. Amos had been plagued by black moods all his life. Partly, he knew, his depression was a reaction to having been around so many queers. You wouldn’t believe there were so many queers in the world. If you needed any proof that the country was falling apart, the gathering he had seen in the Jacksonville town square was it. Worries about the boys also came back to torment him. He was afraid that the eldest, Ezekiel, who was sixteen, might turn gay despite Amos’s best efforts to prevent it. In truth he sometimes worried that all three boys might go gay. These thoughts had plagued him for years. Still, Amos found some reassurance in the fact that the three were still back there in town taking a stand for true Christian values. After a while, even though it was still only early in the afternoon, Amos decided he’d be happiest in bed and went to lie down. 
    There was a memory from his childhood that would sometimes suddenly pierce Amos like a needle. He’d only been about four or five – this was the ‘seventies. He’d been messing around with a doll that belonged to his sister, a Cathy Quick Curl Doll, and his daddy had caught him playing with it. Amos hadn’t known there was anything wrong with playing with his sister’s toys but his daddy did. He had taken Amos out to the woodshed and thrashed Amos a dozen times with his belt, and then told Amos through gritted teeth never to play around with girls’ toys again. That was the only thing he had said. At the time, Amos hadn’t understood why his daddy was punishing him but now he knew. His daddy had been trying to thrash the queerness out of him. His daddy was a good man, was trying to raise his children to be decent God fearing men and women who loved virtue and hated vice, men who were men and women who were women; Amos knew this now. As he lay in bed and thought about this, a tear leaked from the corner of his eye. He thought about all the queers he had seen that day and what his daddy would have thought of them. He thought about the gay reporter who had looked at him the wrong way and asked him about President Trump. Feeling a stirring below, he decided to think about the reporter and do it to himself – this was something he’d felt an urge to do sometimes ever since he was a teenager. When he’d finished, as always after he’d thought about a man and done it to himself, Amos wept for real, hot tears of shame running from his eyes. Amos knew he wasn’t queer. But sometimes he wondered if maybe the libs were right when they said homosexuality wasn’t a choice, that some people were just born gay. Maybe Amos had got the gay gene from his mammy like he’d heard some people say sometimes happened. Maybe he was queer after all. It was a black thought he tried to push out of his head. He reassured himself that nobody knew about his sinfulness; this was the most important thing. God knew but nobody else did. Amos decided to get up and seek solace in the bible.
    Every Sunday when he was little Amos had gone to church and seen his daddy deliver the sermon, and almost every Sunday his daddy had talked about homosexuality. He had talked about men wearing women’s clothes and women taking men’s jobs like being doctors and judges and police officers; he had talked about the wickedness of those who didn’t know their place. He had talked about the liberal atheists in Hollywood and New York, these modern Sodoms and Gomorrahs, doing drugs and having premarital intercourse and consorting with prostitutes. He had talked about women killing their unborn babies. Sometimes he talked about how the men in these places would sodomise and fellate each other. He had talked about how the faithful needed to stay strong, resist temptation, remain virtuous, avoid straying from the path of Christ; he talked about the tortures inflicted on sinners in hell, the burnings and the mutilations. Only if the faithful remained pure would God admit them into the Kingdom and he would only let in a few, the elect, like those few in the congregation who were worthy of his words; the rest would be hurled head first into the pit of flames. These were true fire-and-brimstone sermons and, although Amos hadn’t understood every word his daddy used, he had marked the way that members of the congregation would leap to their feet and yell Hallelujah! whenever his daddy described an especially brutal torment inflicted on sinners in hell. Today, on the day of the march, Amos thought again about those sermons. He reread, as he had so often over the years, Leviticus 20:13, a passage he had underlined, and earnestly beseeched Christ to believe him when he said that he truly repented, prayed to God for forgiveness. And as he had so many times since he was young, he prayed to Jesus for Jesus to take the gay feelings and desires away from him and to cure him, to make him a real man like his daddy and President Trump. He didn’t think Jesus would answer his prayer.
    The march commenced on schedule, at noon. The demonstrators surged along the high street carrying rainbow flags and placards with slogans emblazoned on them, single words like “love” and “pride” or expressions like “equal rights for all”. Even though the pro-Desantis supporters lined the street on either side yelling imprecations and insults at them, the activists were ebullient, jubilant. They were buoyed particularly by a fact, a fact not all of them had known beforehand but which had been passed from person to person that day – a recent poll had found that more than one in five Generation Z adults now identified as LGBTQ. It had doubled over the course of a generation. They were winning the battle. Certainly they had always known that their cause was righteous but the fact that so many people were now free to be themselves proved just how decisively the political tide had turned in their favour, that the arc of history bent towards justice; it seemed that it would only take another couple of generations for them to achieve total victory. Men walked with their arms around their male partners and women walked hand in hand with other women. Daniel was marching with Beatrice and some other allies and carrying a placard that read “Gay lives matter”. As he walked, he noted the huge number of incredibly hot girls taking part in the protest. Some of them, he assumed, were probably exclusively homosexual but there might be quite a few bisexual or pansexual girls around and maybe even a few ordinary straight girls thrown into the mix. Possibly there would be some kind of big party or something that evening back at the campsite with beer and weed and maybe molly and one of them might end up hooking up with him. The idea of getting laid later on was something pleasant he could toy around with in his mind as he walked; even though it might not pan out in reality just turning it over in his imagination was enjoyable enough on its own. Of course, now that he had come out as pansexual live on state television, he supposed he should also consider hooking up with a cis man or trans man instead. This thought, when it occurred to him, was a little disconcerting – he didn’t think it had occurred to him earlier. But Daniel decided to set this somewhat unnerving prospect aside for now and worry about it later. 
    The shooting, as later phone records indicated, occurred at 12:37. The semi-automatic assault weapon that the gunman used was one he had bought legally from a gun fair earlier that day in a neighbouring town. It was unclear what message he was intending to convey with the shooting because he opened fire indiscriminately on both factions. Before he was subdued, twelve people had been injured and four people, including Daniel Easterbrook, had been killed. Independent observers might have noted the irony of Daniel being killed the same day that he had come out publicly as pansexual.
    Mass shootings were hardly rare occurrences but it was unusual for one to take place with so many from the media in the near vicinity. It made for dramatic footage and excellent ratings. As usual, the national conversation turned immediately to the most significant issue raised by the tragedy: mental illness. It was obvious to everyone that mental illness must have been the cause of the shooting but unfortunately, as was often the case, there had been no red flags to indicate that the shooter was mentally ill apart from a few somewhat off-colour posts on Facebook and comments on Reddit, comments barely distinguishable in content and tone from all the other comments posted daily. An additional problem was that no-one was quite sure what the term ‘mental illness’ meant. Everyone agreed nevertheless that an epidemic of ‘mental illness’ was gripping the nation and some commentators began hinting at a final solution: some kind of national screening process should be set in place to identify the ‘mentally ill’ as early as possible, preferably when they were children. Although it might violate the Second Amendment rights of the ‘mentally ill’ to prevent them buying semi-automatic weapons when they grew up, it might be possible to neutralise the threat they posed to society by ensuring, first, that they were well medicated all their lives and, second, by somehow isolating the ‘mentally ill’ from the rest of the population who it could safely be assumed were not ‘mentally ill’. Certainly there were complexities that would need to be untangled before such a screening process could be implemented such as, for instance, whether ‘autism’ should or should not be considered a ‘mental illness’. But it could be left to the policy wonks at state and federal level to work out the details. The pundits repeatedly insisted that their role was not to tell the government what to do but simply make recommendations.
    What everyone was sure about was that the fight for Queer rights would go on. Despite the sometimes vituperative and inflammatory language used, combatants on both sides repeatedly insisted that their primary concern was the welfare and protection of children. Of course the issue of LGBTQ rights was only one issue among many that divided the nation – where one stood on any particular issue depended entirely on which political party one supported. Either one side or the other was right and either one side or the other would win the next election, albeit an election to be decided by people who didn’t really know what the word ‘queer’ meant and who didn’t follow the news at all. Some commentators darkly predicted a third possibility: civil war, red states versus blue states. Some of the more historically minded even argued that the current culture war could be traced all the way back to the founding of the nation, that City on the Hill, a city that was either, depending on where you sourced your information, a city whose inhabitants had bared their souls, blemishes and all, for all the world to see, or a shining beacon of immaculate moral rectitude. Some independent observers felt they could even detect an adumbration of the impending civil war in the first civil war, a war won by progressives under the leadership of a president who, as everyone knows, was a queer Democrat who supported gay marriage. Whatever your view of history, you could be sure that, in the end, the right side would win.

Wednesday, 29 May 2024

The Meaning of Meaning

What do we mean when we ask, "What do we mean?" This is a problem within philosophy of language. Philosophy of language in my view reigns supreme over all other branches of philosophy because it undergirds all fields of knowledge: all scholarly disciplines, with the possible exception of mathematics, rely on language to explicate knowledge and theories and to communicate knowledge and theories from one person to another. To understand the foundations of all knowledge we need to enquire into the nature of language. The purpose of this essay is to present a theory within philosophy of language, a theory of meaning. It picks up from the previous essay I published in this blog some time ago. Because in that essay I tried to cover too many different topics in the same post, not all of which were closely related to the core topic, it may have seemed to meander. In this post I am going to stick more closely to my main topic: the meaning of 'meaning'. This essay will be longer than that typically written for a university course but will, of course, still not do justice to the topic. My main sources for writing on this topic are the cluster theory of proper names first proposed by John Searle, Kripke's seminal lecture series "Naming and Necessity", and the article "Word Meaning" in the online Stanford Encyclopaedia of Philosophy, although I shall reference other works. I actually have a novel contribution to the conversation to make, an idea I presented in the previous essay but which I think I can defend more robustly here. I shall finish the essay by considering the notion of 'truth'.

Often when presenting a philosophical argument, we must begin by defining the central terms or stipulating how they will be used. The salient word here is 'meaning'. English language speakers use the words 'mean' and 'meaning' routinely. We say, "What do you mean?" or "I didn't mean to do that," or "I didn't understand what the poem meant" or "What does that word mean?" or "What is the meaning of life?" Nevertheless ordinary speakers may have trouble defining the word 'meaning'. The online Miriam Webster dictionary defines 'mean' as follows: "to have in the mind as a purpose : INTEND [...] or to introduce a phrase restating the point of a preceding phrase [...], to design for or destine to a specified purpose or future; to serve or intend to convey, show, or indicate : SIGNIFY [... ]; to have importance to the degree of [...] to direct to a particular individual." Although the dictionary definition does not clearly signpost this, meaning has always seemed to me and hopefully to many of my readers a mental phenomena. The meaning of the word 'cat' is, to speak a little loosely here, some kind of mental representation or concept competent English speakers associate with the phonological and graphological sign 'cat'. Although we also associate the term 'meaning' with 'intention' I shall not be using the term 'meaning' in this way here but rather as denoting some kind of mental correlate of a sign of any sort we perceive in the world.

This way of parsing the meaning of 'meaning', as a mental correlate of some sign in the world, is, I think, a twentieth century development. If we go all the way back to Plato, we find the doctrine that the word 'horse', for instance, was supposed to be associated with the Idea of Horseness. Ideas, for Plato, were, to quote Wikipedia, "non-physical, timeless, absolute, and unchangeable essences of all things, of which objects and matter in the physical world are merely imitations". The realm of Ideas is eternal and mystical; it may exist in the minds of people but also somehow elsewhere somewhere. I suspect that Plato didn't have a solid conception of the human mind and consequently didn't consider the possibility that different people might possess different ideas, or that ideas can change over time both at the personal and community level. Although we still use the term 'Ideas' for Platonic Forms today, this term may to many of us seem misapplied because so many of us now consider ideas to be mental phenomena. For Plato 'horse' is both a word and a kind of thing to be found in the world, a set of things that are imitations of some prototypical ideal Horse in the realm of Ideas. Thus from the beginning there was confusion between the meanings of words and the types of things that are found in the world.

Of course philosophy is complex and different philosophers have understood the word 'meaning' and its analogues in other languages differently. For instance the very famous philosophers John Locke and David Hume seem to have viewed the meanings of words as being mental pictures and so did indeed interpret meanings as mental phenomena. However historically and today meaning has often been tied to reference. By the nineteenth century, philologists had realised that the meanings of words can change over time but philosophers didn't recognise the philosophical import of this. Within philosophy a distinction came to be drawn between two different types of word: proper names and common words, the latter being generic nouns, verbs, adjectives, and adverbs. Both types of word have meanings, and in fact in this essay I will not draw a sharp line between the two. But historically the two types of word have been treated quite differently.  I shall focus first on proper names. In 1843, John Stuart Mill argued that the meaning of a proper name simply is its referent, that there is no 'semantic' content to a name like Dartmouth or Aristotle. It was not until Frege, in 1892, proposed the distinction between 'Sinn" and "Bedeutung", usually translated as "sense" and "reference", that we begin to get a distinction in philosophy between the meaning of a proper name and its referent, when we start to tease the two Platonic conceptions of ideas apart, and even then this new philosophical paradigm is still embryonic.

The next major development in this line of philosophical thought occurred in 1905 when Bertrand Russell proposed that the semantic content of a proper name is a definite description. For instance, the semantic content of the name "Aristotle" is (partly) "the teacher of Alexander the Great". The notion here is that by virtue of this definite description we can pick out uniquely the object the word refers to. Of course there is more than one definite description that can be associated with "Aristotle" and I don't think Russell explained why we should pick any one definite description rather than any other to be the semantic content of a name. There are other problems with their theory which I will not spell out here, although if the reader is interested they can perhaps watch the video "Proper Names by John Searle" on Youtube. This brings me neatly to John Searle. Searle criticised both the tradition associated with Mill and the one associated with Frege and presented an alternative theory. According to Searle, a proper name is associated with a cluster of descriptions, none of which are necessary to the meaning of the word. In fact Searle thought that the looseness associated with the meaning of proper names, the fact that no single descriptor is necessary, is what makes them so useful: proper names are tags to which people can attach descriptions that can change over time and, although Searle does not say this explicitly, his theory coheres with a view of the world in which different people can understand the meanings of words differently and of a world in which the meanings of words can shift.

Searle does not use this type of argumentation in his famous essay but I believe I can begin to elucidate my own theory, a theory that follows directly from Searle's cluster theory, by invoking the notion of what we might call a conversational interaction. Suppose Jack and Jill are discussing philosophy and Aristotle comes up. Suppose Jill knows only a little about Aristotle: in her mind the cluster of descriptions might be only "famous Greek philosopher", "student of Plato", and perhaps some mental pictures of a bearded bust. Jack knows a little more: he knows for instance that Aristotle came up the Lazy Man argument. He tells Jill that Aristotle was one of the first known philosophers to propose an argument against predestination, that this argument is called the Lazy Man argument, and then goes on to summarise it. Jill has learnt something new, and if she believes Jack and remembers what he has told her, she has added another descriptor to the term "Aristotle", specifically "deviser of the Lazy Man argument". Of course, Jack, in telling Jill about the Lazy Man argument, is presupposing that Jill has at least a little familiarity with "Aristotle". However if Jack and Jill associated the exact same set of descriptors with the term "Aristotle", it would be impossible for Jack to tell Jill anything new about him. We could also imagine a situation in which Jill associates an incorrect descriptor with the term "Aristotle", perhaps that he died from drinking hemlock, and that Jack rectifies her understanding by informing her that she is thinking of Socrates. Through conversational interactions, people are constantly relaying to each other information that is new to the person hearing or reading it, and this seems to be one of the primary purposes of language. If everyone possessed the exact same understanding of language and of the world as everyone else, we would never need to talk to each other, never be able to tell anyone anything new. As another example, an example inspired by Frege, many casual astronomers throughout history may not have realised that the Evening Star is identical to the Morning Star until someone told them.

Searle's theory seems to me very close to the correct theory but, unfortunately, in 1970, Saul Kripke delivered a series of lectures known as "Naming and Necessity" and completely derailed philosophy. Kripke has been enormously influential but I believe his influence has been terribly damaging. In these lectures, Kripke repeatedly insists that when we are using a proper name like Aristotle, there is no semantic content but that we are simply referring to that man. He offers no argument for this contention but simply assumes his audience shares his intuition. Kripke attempts to debunk the cluster theory of proper names; in doing so I believe he misrepresents it. In his view, the cluster theory seems to imply that everyone has got together and, through something like a vote, picked out a set of descriptors that should be associated with a name like "Aristotle" and that these descriptors are then to be treated as both necessary and a priori. I believe that Kripke misunderstood Searle, perhaps because Searle didn't go as far as I intend to in this essay. Obviously Searle is not suggesting that some kind of vote is taken before anyone can start using a word like "Aristotle" or that any of the descriptors associated with "Aristotle" are necessary or known a priori. Jack assumes that Jill has some understanding of the name, an understanding he assumes most people have, but he does not assume that Jill was born knowing that a descriptor associated with "Aristotle" is "famous Greek philosopher". He assumes, as we all do when talking about Aristotle, that the person we are talking to has learned this sometime during his or her life. So it cannot be known a priori. Nor is any descriptor necessary: Jack can meaningfully say to Jill "Aristotle wasn't Greek" if he, perhaps, means to suggest that he believes Aristotle actually immigrated to Athens from somewhere else around the Mediterranean. If it is necessary that Aristotle be Greek, Jack's statement would not be meaningful to Jill but, I contend, Jill will still find it meaningful because there is still considerable overlap between the sets of descriptors both associate with the name "Aristotle". Thus none of the descriptors people associate with proper names are necessary either. Rather, when talking to someone else, one makes assumptions about what the other might or might not know; one assumes enough overlap in one's own and the other's understanding of words that we can meaningfully communicate but we do not assume the overlap is complete. If the overlap were complete, Jack would have nothing new to tell Jill about Aristotle – but if there was no overlap at all, the two would not even share the same language and would be unable to communicate at all.

So far I have been discussing proper names but now we can bring in another type of word: common nouns. (The discussion could be extended to verbs, adjectives, and adverbs as well but I shall not do so in this essay.) When talking about the meanings of common nouns, it seems we need a distinction between the essential and the accidental, and a closely related distinction, the necessary and the contingent. We might say that it is essential, necessary, to the word "horse" that it denote something that has four legs but that the colouring of any particular horse is contingent, accidental. The belief that common nouns have both necessary and sufficient conditions goes back to the ancient Greeks again, is of a piece with Platonic philosophy, and is still central to much modern philosophy. The difference between a proper name and a common noun is that with a proper name, like Aristotle, not only does the name only refer to a single object, it seems also that we could theoretically itemise an indefinitely long list of necessary properties associated with it whereas with a common noun the list is truncated. Some properties are held by all members of the class, are necessary to all of them, while some properties might be held by one member of the class and not by another. The distinction between the essential and the accidental is so entrenched that those of us who have been introduced to this idea find it difficult to imagine disposing of it.

A long time ago, however, I found an essay on the Internet, a essay I believe to be a famous essay by a famous philosopher, challenging this distinction. (I have been unable to relocate this essay so cannot name its author here.) In this essay, the author argued that in fact when we say some characteristic of a thing is essential to it, we are really just saying that it is a characteristic we find it almost impossible to imagine the thing not having, something we are very unwilling it give up. Consider: today we say that it is essential to the word "water" that it denote "a collection of H20 molecules" but the fact that water is constituted by H20 molecules was not discovered until 1811 and people had been happily using the word "water" and its synonyms in other languages for thousands of years meaningfully before this without knowing it. There may be many people in the world today who happily use the word "water" meaningfully without knowing that it is 'essentially' H20. One may be able to mount a persuasive argument that water ought to be regarded as H20 essentially but, if people can use the word "water" meaningfully without knowing this, it suggests that knowledge of this 'essential' property is not required for people to use this word meaningfully. We might also consider that the word "bachelor" is supposed to essentially denote "an unmarried man" but it is possible to imagine some hermits who have lived in the wilderness all their lives, who have heard the word "bachelor" but do not know its dictionary definition and believe it to mean something quite different. It seems, surely, that they can use the word 'bachelor' meaningfully when talking with each other even though they do not know the dictionary definition – although they might then meet people who tell them the dictionary definition and bully them into accepting it. Not only can the essential properties associated with common nouns vary among people, they can vary over time. Of course some properties seem, in the world we live in, to go together: chordates seem always to also be renates. However an unknotting of this particular puzzle, the puzzle of why natural kinds seem to exist in the world, why properties seem to come together in bundles, does not belong to philosophy of language bur rather to ontology. The aim of this essay is to discuss the nature of meaning and its mental character.

Like proper names, common nouns have historically been viewed as inevitably involving reference. There is however, to my mind, a knockdown refutation of the idea that meaning necessarily involves reference. Picture Jack and Jill again. Suppose Jill tells Jack, "This morning I saw a unicorn in my back garden." Now Jack, knowing that unicorns are mythical, may wonder if Jill hallucinated, but even so he would still find her statement meaningful. Even though the word "unicorn" has no referents, it would still likely have a meaning for Jack. Jill is telling Jack that she saw a pure white horse-like creature with an ivory horn protruding from its forehead in her garden. Contrast this little story with another. Suppose Jill says to Jack, "This morning I saw a thiggle in my back garden". Of course, no one knows the meaning of this word "thiggle" because I have just made it up. The word will not be entirely meaningless to Jack however because he will assume that whatever a thiggle is, it is something that could turn up in a back garden and the appearance of which is surprising enough for Jill to mention it. It will have little more significance to him than this though and so Jack could justifiably plead ignorance and say to Jill, "What's a thiggle?" To which Jill might say, "It's what my mother called a fantail." Or, "It's what my sister called a pixie." Either way Jill will have furnished Jack with additional descriptors, additional meanings, for the word "thiggle" My general thrust here is that, although a word like "thiggle" has very little meaning to competent English speakers, words like "unicorn", "elf", "dragon", "vulcan" and "vampire" do have meanings even though they all lack referents. Searle makes a similar argument in the context of proper names. He points out that from Millian perspective, the word "Zeus does not exist" must be parsed as "The name 'Zeus' has no referent" but that throughout history and even today there are people and animals called Zeus and so the proposition "The term 'Zeus' has no referent" is false even though most people would regard the proposition "Zeus does not exist" as true. This supports the claim that the word "Zeus" should be considered a tag for a number of descriptors that most people associate with the name "Zeus", such as "chief of the Greek gods", "father of Hercules", "husband of Hera", and "wielder of thunderbolts". The words we ascribe to mythical beings such as those listed above, unlike the word "thiggle", must surely be regarded as meaningful even though they lack referents. They figure in the mythical and literary treasure house of English speakers' linguistic history.

I arrive now at the crux of the essay. What do I mean by 'meaning'? The view I shall propose here is more indebted to linguistics and cognitive science than mainstream philosophy, and is supported by the success of AI developers in creating large language models like ChatGPT based on huge neural networks. ChatGPT I think passes the Turing test. I claim that the human mind can be considered an enormous network of interconnected nodes. Every word in a person's lexicon is connected to other words. For instance, the word "cat" is contrasted with "dog" and also contrasted with the word "cab". The word "bachelor" is connected to the phrase "unmarried man". This suggests a Structuralist perspective, a la Saussure, but unlike Structuralists, I claim that the nodes are not all verbal, but may also be sensory: the word "cat" in most people's minds also often conjures up images of cats performing catty activities, is connected to such memories or imaginings. An enormous proportion of a person's knowledge is non-verbal. We can recognise the difference between Emma Stone and Melinda Clarke even if we have trouble verbally articulating their defining features; we can distinguish between a London and New York accent even if we know nothing about non-rhoticity and rhoticity; we can pick which pop song is playing on the radio from the first couple of bars even if we know nothing about music theory and are not pitch perfect. The fact that a great deal of the knowledge a human possesses is non-verbal is, when you think about it, obvious. If I tell you, "Close the door!" and the meaning of the word "door" were entirely verbal, you would not be able to accede to my request. You need some kind of visual idea of what a door is to know what I mean; visual imaginings of doors form part of the meaning of the word "door". The relation between nodes may be extraordinarily complex. It enables humans for instance to make statement like "Mt Everest is bigger than a shoebox", a sentence that in no simple way involves either purely verbal or visual nodes, seems to somehow involve conceptual nodes or some kind of encyclopaedic knowledge; I have heard statements like this can trip up ChatGPT.

From this perspective, it seems likely that in the human mind there is, at a fundamental level, no clear distinction between essential and accidental properties, but rather a reticulated dispersal of meaning from one node to those proximate and then those more distant. Eleanor Rosch has argued that when we think of a "cat", we imagine a prototypical cat and then tend to think of things as either more or less cat-like, rather than drawing a sharp line between "cats" and "non-cats" based on some criteria, as would seem to be the case if the meanings of words were constituted by essential properties. Rosch's proposal seems plausible to me.

The second vital point to note about language is that it is learnt. Of course this is obvious. Chomsky argued that the fundamental syntax of all languages is innate, perhaps genetic, and this is why he invented the idea of Universal Grammar. But no one today can seriously take the Platonic position that the semantics of a language is innate. No baby is born knowing the meaning of the word "unicorn". It takes years for a child to learn the meaning of the words used by those around her and then to start speaking herself. Even more importantly, the language the child learns is that spoken by those raising her. The obvious fact that different linguistic communities possess different languages conclusively proves the claim that the semantics of a language is learnt. Infants are sponges, somehow picking up on how others around them use language and conforming to the lexical rules of those around them. The ability of small children to learn so quickly their mother tongue is, when you think about it, astonishing. By the time we are adults, we tend to understand the meanings of all common words in almost exactly the same way as those around us do. But even as adults we can continue to learn and I claim that even as adults we are often appending new descriptors, new meanings, to the words we know and even learning new words. For example, I learnt this week about the new film Furiosa and can attach to this proper name, which I did not know before, descriptors such as "latest film in the Mad Max series", "film featuring Chris Hemsworth in a starring role", and "set like the earlier instalments in Australia". It is not just lexical knowledge that is continually developing but all knowledge. Suppose Jill takes Jack to a new cafe in East Auckland, one he has not visited before. As a result Jack may well commit to memory the geographic location of this cafe, a fact that is not linguistic but spatial or topographical. Supposing that knowledge is somehow actualised in the brain, the lessons of neuroscience become pertinent: it is well established that a person's brain evolves enormously from infancy through childhood and adolescence and that the frontal cortex is not fully developed until a human is about twenty-five. But even those of us, like me, who are nearing middle age can continue to learn new information, albeit with much more difficulty than we did as children, and, if materialism is true, this suggests that the brains of adults are still constantly changing (although to a lesser degree than they did when very young). This is not to say, of course, that a person is capable of remembering everything he or she has learnt or been told over the course of his life; it is probable that although we might gain new descriptors for terms we also lose others. The capacity of the human mind is not infinite. 

The picture I am drawing is that 'meaning' is related to knowledge and that knowledge is an enormous network of interrelated signs, stored images and sounds, concepts, and so forth in a particular human mind. The meanings of words are not isolable units. You might know that "Aristotle" is "a Greek philosopher" but even then you cannot really know the meaning of the name "Aristotle" without also having at least some vague understanding of the terms "Greek" and "philosopher". It might be that even if you do have some understanding of the term "philosopher" you may not be able to distinctly articulate the meaning of this word – but you might connect it strongly in your mind with people like Rene Descartes and Bertrand Russell, less so with Darwin and Einstein, and not at all with someone like Donald Trump. You might say of a friend, "Amy is a bit of philosopher," if she occasionally says something deep. (To reiterate, not all knowledge is verbal or capable of verbal expression.) To try to delimit the boundaries of a word's meaning by invoking necessary and sufficient conditions ends up a kind of question begging. It seems moreover that the meanings a person attaches to a word are implicit, can only be inferred from the way the person speaks and behaves, that they cannot be accessed through introspection.

The theory I am advocating for here is related to meaning holism and I encourage the reader to look up the Stanford Encyclopaedia entry on this theory. However my own theory departs from the holism defended by Quine among others. Traditional holistic theories of meaning often seem to suppose that the network of meanings in the mind of one person must be either entirely identical with or entirely different from the person she is speaking to; this is wrong. As I argued above, it seems that when one talks to someone else, one assumes a great deal of overlap but not complete overlap. If the networks are identical, there would be no point communicating at all and if the networks are entirely different, communication would impossible. We constantly make assumptions about what others know when speaking to them. A second way my own theory departs from traditional holistic theories is that these theories suppose that if the meaning of one term changes it alters the meaning of every single other term in the network. But we can quite simply suppose that with the addition of a new descriptor, or adoption of a new belief, a change propagates to related nodes in the network without also supposing that every single term in the network acquires a new meaning. Dropping a stone in the Hauraki Gulf will probably not produce a ripple that will travel all the way to South America. If Jill learns that Aristotle came up with the Lazy Man argument it may affect her understanding of terms like "Aristotle", "philosophy" and, say, cause her to alter her beliefs concerning how long arguments about the existence of free will have been raging – but it won't affect her beliefs about the location of the Britomart train station. Finally, traditional holism has trouble explaining how one learns a language to begin with. Consider – a child's first word may be "No". If some holistic theory of meaning is true, how can the child know the meaning of this word "No" if presumably she knows no other word? However we can go some way towards solving this puzzle by recognising that the child has been observing the way others around her use this word, their body language, and the types of situations in which it is used. Quine and other proponents of meaning holism assume that the network consists entirely of words but, as I argued above, the network comprises in addition an enormous amount of perceptual experience and perhaps some elementary concepts. A network is in place before the first word is spoken. You may ask: how does the network originate? I cannot answer this question except to say that it may be a chicken-egg type empty question.

The novel contribution I wish to make to philosophy of language is to extend Searle's cluster theory of meaning to descriptors that indicate the ontological category of beings. Quite simply, it is part of the meaning of a word whether what it denotes exists or not. Consider: when Jill tells Jack that she has seen a unicorn in her back garden, the reason that Jack may not believe her is that if Jack is like most people he regards unicorns as mythical. The descriptor "mythical animal" is one most people associate with the word "unicorn". Why? Because we learn this almost from the time we learn the word. Similarly, along with descriptors like "chief of the Greek gods", and "father of Hercules", a descriptor we associate with the word "Zeus" is "non-existent". Why? Because we learn that the word "Zeus" is a figure in Greek mythology and when we first encounter Greek mythology we also assimilate the belief that all the beings in Greek mythology don't exist and never existed (although we may later learn that the city of Troy did in fact once exist). Descriptors associated with "Sherlock Holmes" include "greatest detective in nineteenth century London", "close friend and confidant of Dr Watson" and "fictional character created by Conan Doyle". Thus some of the descriptors associated with "Sherlock Holmes" seem to characterise him as real and others do not. The fact that people can disagree about whether some objects, like God for instance, exist or not strongly supports the hypothesis that whether something exists or not is a part of the meaning of the term used to denote it and can vary among people. Once we recognise that ontological status, existence or non-existence, can be part of the meaning of words, this leads us to the conclusion that Searle's cluster theory, although a good start, is not a fully adequate theory of meaning. Its inadequacy is that Searle's theory seems to imply that the meaning of a proper name is a list of descriptors. But if want to explain how the meaning of "Zeus" can be attached to both "wielder of thunderbolts" and "non-existent" we need to recognise that the meaning of a word must also involve very complex relationships between different descriptors. The meaning of a word is a structure of which ontological category might be a kind of base-level component. And, to reiterate, this structure is not entirely verbal and is not wholly isolable from the structures of other related words.

I'll make an observation concerning this, something I find fascinating. Children learn that some things are real and others fictional almost from the time people start telling them stories. It seems that the imbibing of fairy stories and fantastical narratives, like the Beatrix Potter tales and the Harry Potter books, is an important part of child development. Children need to be exposed to fantastical, literally false, stories, and they seem to enjoy fictions precisely because they are fictions. No culture in the world thinks that children should learn to read by being forced to study encyclopaedias. To have a robust sense of reality we also seem to need a sense of the unreal. Perhaps child psychologists have delved into this interesting topic but I do not know if there is ever been any philosophical exploration of it.

The meaning of 'meaning' is closely related to the meaning of 'definition'. It can sometimes seem that these two words are identical but I shall suggest that there is an important nuance. Today we often think that the definition of a word is what we find in good dictionaries but there is a problem with this view – as Quine pointed out in his famous essay "Two Dogmas of Empiricism", lexicographers ultimately determine the definitions of words by closely studying how people in their linguistic community actually use them and, when there is uncertainty, adjudicate between different meanings by kowtowing to the usage of famous writers, like say Milton, or experts, rather than that of ordinary yobs in the street. The aim is to find some balance between how people generally use words and how they ought to use words. The definition of a word is shorthand for the meaning most people generally ascribe to it or the meaning they ought to ascribe to it should they accept the opinions of authorities. When we recognise this, it leads us to a total reconceptualisation of much philosophy. Philosophers and others throughout history have often argued that some claims are true by virtue of the definitions of the words contained in them. The sentence "A bachelor is an unmarried man" is true by definition, supposedly. "God exists" is true by definition, supposedly – this last is an important version of the ontological argument. Years ago a psychiatrist said to me, "It is impossible to recover from schizophrenia by definition." With an improved understanding of definitions, we can reinterpret claims such as these as saying, for instance, "God exists because everyone believes He does and this is the view of authorities on the matter". Now, in the Middle Ages, the descriptor "existent" was almost universally attached to the word "God" and this belief was strongly encouraged by church authorities. But today believers may be in the minority and this descriptor may no longer, for most people, be part of the meaning of the word "God"; thus it is no longer possible to say "God exists by definition." In my dictionary, a contemporary dictionary of course, the main definition for "God" runs as follows: "(in Christianity and other monotheistic religions) the creator and ruler of the universe and source of all moral authority; the supreme being". Note that this definition includes an ontological category: "in Christianity and other monotheistic religions". It is up to the person consulting the dictionary whether or not she wants to believe that Christianity is true. We could imagine a definition of "Sherlock Holmes" as being "(in the novels of Conan Doyle) the greatest detective of nineteenth century London." This line of reasoning suggests that an argument of the form "Sentence A is true by virtue of the definition" is not conclusive because it relies on the infallibility of the beliefs of the linguistic community who have together determined the meanings of the words that make up the sentence. It is not conclusive because the linguistic community might be wrong.

The perspective which I am presenting in this essay is based on a view of language as something that mediates between individuals in the form of conversational interactions. Even when someone writes an essay, as I am doing now, I am seeking to communicate my ideas to others, hopefully to you, the reader, although I have very little notion of who you are. Now, it is certainly the case that a person may maintain a kind of internal monologue in his or her head, a monologue in which the originator of the monologue and its audience are the same person; Chomsky has argued that language evolved principally to be the building blocks of thought, with communication as a secondary, derived function. But I myself still adhere to the old-fashioned view that communication is the primary purpose of language and that its role in private cognition is secondary, although I am not absolutely committed to this view. Conversational interactions require that there be considerable similarity between the semantic structures of speaker and auditor but would be redundant if the two were absolute identical. My perspective is that we have to regard language users as all individuals interacting verbally with each other. This perspective runs counter to the general paradigm of much philosophy, especially in the anglophone tradition. There is a tendency to regard the linguistic community as monolithic: "we" think this and "we" think that. Kripke's theory of proper names, for instance, assumes the unitarity and eternality of human civilisation implicitly : he supposes that two and a half thousand years ago, Aristole's parents baptised him "Aristotle" and that there has been an unbroken causal chain linking speakers today with that original baptism. Kripke does not discuss the links in the causal chain (the conversational interactions), does not account for how a word like "Zeus" (which lacks a referent and therefore never involved any kind of baptism) can be meaningful, and has trouble accommodating the fact that different individuals can have different beliefs and understand the meanings of words differently. Although I concede that there is very significant overlap between the semantic structures of individuals within a linguistic community, that it is not altogether disingenuous to say "we" think this and "we" think that, I am highlighting the differences between people. And, to repeat my most important point, although not all language use involves the communication of information between individuals, this is a major role of language, something that would be redundant if there were no differences between the mental networks of different individuals.

Finally we come to the issue of Truth, something that has been looming over the discussion. The best way to approach this question is through some case studies. In the early twentieth century, physicists believed the universe as a whole to be eternal and unchanging. The reason Einstein included the Cosmological Constant in his theory of General Relativity was because, without it, his equations predicted that the universe would be either expanding or contracting, and he did not believe this to be possible; Einstein later called this inclusion his greatest blunder. It was with the discovery of the red-shift of distant galaxies by Hubble that physicists concluded that the universe was expanding and, together with the discovery of the cosmic background radiation, this led to the postulation of the Big Bang. It is tempting to think that the physics community changed their minds en masse overnight but of course this is not what happened. Physicists generally believed the universe to be eternal and unchanging in 1915, then subsequently Hubble and others found empirical evidence for the expansion of the universe, came to the conclusion that the universe was expanding, and then persuaded others of this 'truth'. This 'truth' propagated out to others, through 'conversational interactions', but this did not happen instantaneously – in fact, the physicist who coined the term "Big Bang" did so to show his disdain for the theory. He chose a ridiculous term for the theory because he thought the theory was ridiculous. Gradually the theory of the Big Bang gained acceptance throughout the physics community, through persuasion, persuasion usually employing corroborating observational evidence that physicists accepted, and from there disseminated out to the lay public. Even today, however, people can be found who think the universe was created by God in 4004BC and the physicist Roger Penrose has argued, if I recall correctly, that some stars predate the Big Bang, are remnants of a previous universe, and that therefore the Big Bang was not the ultimate beginning . Thus what we think of 'truth' must be considered a kind of consensus opinion created through persuasion and justified by one's faith in authorities, in experts, and even then dissent can exist. In the case of the Big Bang, the success of this theory is partly attributable to people's faith in experiments and empirical evidence as reported by credible scientists, well replicated experiments and observations, faith generally in the scientific method, as objective support for the arguments made by theorists.

Consider now the term 'schizophrenia'. The situation with this word is very different than that with the Big Bang because there is much more obvious disagreement about how to define this word than there is disagreement today about whether or not the Big Bang occurred. The most authoritative definition of this word might be that found in the DSM but still there are great divergences of opinion about its meaning because the word 'schizophrenia' is I believe somehow shapeless, can take on any meaning anyone wants to associate with it. Robert Sapolsky, in Determined, regurgitates the faddish new definition of schizophrenia as "a disease of disordered thought", but recently I have been reading The One Thing We've Never Spoken About by Elfy Scott, a book which does not attempt to define 'schizophrenia' but nevertheless presents a picture of this condition, a meaning for this word, quite different to that presented by Sapolsky. Scott is the daughter of a schizophrenic mother, has studied it, and has spoken to many people who have been diagnosed with it; I think her view of 'schizophrenia' is vastly superior to Sapolsky's view and that Sapolsky had waded into territory he knows almost nothing about. Then we might consider this blog in which I have been discussing the meaning of 'schizophrenia' for many years and presenting a different view again. It has occurred to me recently how problematic the definition of schizophrenia is because, although I have often experienced profound mental distress over the last ten years, this distress didn't really take the form of hallucinations or delusions but rather, for instance, of terrible nightmares, and was a reaction to my treatment by the Mental Health Service; nevertheless I was officially diagnosed 'schizophrenic'. It is not the purpose of this essay to elaborate on this self-reflection. The point here is that the meaning of the word 'schizophrenic' varies widely among people, that there is no consensus opinion with respect to its meaning or with respect to what we can say truly about it. With respect to 'schizophrenia', our notions of truth break down. Truth here is a matter of negotiation between people about how best a term like 'schizophrenia' should be defined and it might be that the word 'schizophrenic' is so compromised that we should discard it altogether.

In the post "Rationality and Irrationality", I discussed how in anglophone philosophy there is confusion between the descriptive and the normative. Philosophers want to stipulate how we ought to determine whether a sentence is true or not whereas I want to describe how people actually decide in the real world whether some sentence is true or not. We need to recognise that much of our 'knowledge' about the word is communicated to us through language, through 'conversational interactions' if we broaden this term to include linguistic artefacts such as news stories, scholarly essays, books, and so on. Everything I know about Aristotle, I have either read or been told by someone else. When someone communicates to someone else information new to him or her, the receiver will tend to believe it, to regard it as 'true'. If different conversational interactions convey conflicting information, we make decisions about what to believe based on prior knowledge, on reasoning processes, and often by deciding which of the communicators we feel should be regarded as most credible. Where there are differences of opinion within the linguistic community people seek to persuade others and if we define 'rhetoric' as 'the art of persuasive speech' we must consider rhetoric to be a core part of language use. I strongly believe that much of a person's beliefs are formed by the person conforming his or her beliefs to those expressed or espoused by those he or she finds trustworthy, an idea we find in Kenneth Burke. We could throw the notion of 'truth' away completely but I don't want to do this. Rather I would like to suggest here that any notion of truth must depend on a kind of faith. Generally we have faith in those around us to tell the truth and when there are differences of opinion we choose who to have faith in. Although I have not observed the galactic red-shift myself, I put my faith in the physics community, as represented by someone like Sabine Hossenfelder, in choosing to accept their consensus opinion that the universe is expanding. I put my faith in Michael Cohen over Donald Trump with respect to whether or not Trump fiddled the books. I put my faith in Steve Braunias when he says that Mark Lundy was actually innocent of the crime for which he was convicted, the murder of his family. Of course one's faith in someone else may always be misplaced but we have no other option.

I'll conclude the essay by summarising the theory of meaning I have proposed. The meaning of a word involves a reticulated network of associated words, sensory memories, and perhaps concepts; the meaning of any one word cannot be isolated from the meanings of other words. Knowledge of language is learnt and much of the way it is established is by means of 'conversational interactions'. Conversational interactions rely on the participants possessing very similar meaning networks but there would be no point speaking or talking to anyone else at all if the participants all possessed exactly the same linguistic networks as each other; this is the reason conversations occur at all. Through conversational interactions we align our networks with those around us and with those we trust. When there are differences of opinion within the linguistic community about what is true we make decisions about who to believe based on principles like consistency and the apparent trustworthiness of those speaking with us. We place faith in those around us to tell the truth. This theory may seem cynical: we may contrast it with the position of someone like John Rawls who argued that the principle of universal human rights follows directly from the "definition of justice". Just because it is cynical, however, does not make it incorrect.

This essay may not be that interesting to many of my readers and I am not sure if I have presented my theory as clearly as I could. However this topic is interesting to me and maybe one or two readers out there will find it thought provoking.