Saturday, May 12, 2012

The Fiction of Burden of Proof

QualiaSoup often has some interesting YouTube episodes on critical thinking; this one was on burden of proof:



Burden of proof in the sense used here is mythical, however. The basic idea here is that 'claim-making' gives an automatic obligation to give supporting arguments. This is not, in fact, something that anyone accepts as a matter of practice, and it is noticeable that in the above video the narrator makes a number of claims for which no supporting evidence is given. Indeed, it is logically impossible for a human being to fulfill an obligation of this sort because every supporting argument multiplies claims. The position that claim-making automatically gives an obligation to give supporting arguments for the claim implies that anyone who makes a claim has an obligation to make infinitely many claims. Since this is impossible, any supposed obligation with such an implication is obviously an absurd candidate for being an obligation. (Infinity could be prevented by allowing self-evident or properly basic claims that require no other claims as support. This would imply one of two things. Either there would be claims requiring no support, and thus bearing no burden of proof, or there would be claims whose burden of proof is met by something other than an argument -- direct experience, for instance. Either route would require a very different account of burden of proof than is given in the above video. And each one creates problems of its own, which I won't go into here.)

Claim-making, therefore, does not create any burden of proof; the burden of proof is not magically created when we assert things. Nor has it ever been plausible that mere claim-making generates obligations in this way. Further, when we look at rational interactions, we find that the whole "burden of proof is automatically on anyone who makes an assertion" falls apart completely. We get the problem that's never properly addressed in the video above that expressions of denial, doubt, skepticism, and criticism all admit of assertion. To handle this, people often fudge by talking about existence and nonexistence. This gives us the account of burden of proof (found here, for instance) in which claims that something exists automatically have the burden of proof. Virtually nobody ever bothers to prove that the burden of proof exists in such cases, even though this is clearly an existence claim and therefore would have the burden of proof. And when people do give arguments they are nonsense like the following (from the same source):

Well think whether or not it is a better way to proceed through life to accept anything and everything that people claim to be so. Experience should instruct every thinking human that there is a high probability that not everything that people claim to be true is actually true. Some claims might be made with the claimant aware that the claim is not true and some claims might be made with the claimant thinking that they are true but being mistaken. As it is for most humans not a very good idea to proceed through life based on beliefs that are false and thinking things to be true when they are not, most humans and those who would use reason to guide them will want some evidence and reasoning to support a claim being asserted to be true. So the burden is on those who make claims to offer reason and evidence in support of those claims.

It can clearly be seen that (1) this would apply equally to claims about nonexistence, or, indeed, any claims at all, and thus requires the more general position that claim-making on its own generates a burden of proof, and carry all the corresponding problems; and (2) this makes the absurd assumption that burden of proof is the only way to prevent oneself from "accepting anything and everything that people claim to be so" when it is in fact obvious that you could just judge in terms of your own assessment of the evidence instead of always demanding that other people do your rational work for you.

In general, the assumption that there is a burden of proof, and that it favors one side, is usually smuggled into the argument. This is often quite clear with more sophisticated arguments like 'epistemic modesty' arguments (of the sort discussed here). OK, so suppose a claim is more 'epistemically immodest' (or whatever you want to substitute for it). It's still an open question whether it imposes any obligation; we need an account linking the two, and this is generally lacking. All the most plausible attempts to give a good account of this sort of general and philosophical burden of proof essentially make it a matter of presumptive reasoning of some kind; but the same problem arises here: your presumptions don't obligate anyone else. Indeed, this could be the slogan for any kind of counter-response to accounts like the above accounts: they are attempts to give high ground to preferred positions by a hocus-pocus conjuration of nonexistent obligations. Moreover, people who propose such accounts are in constant performative contradiction with their own account: they never give their own account of burden of proof the kind of support that would be required if their account were true.

When we look at plausibly rational appeals to burden of proof in real life, we find a mess, and the better accounts recognize this. We get this sort of point from Nizkor:

In many situations, one side has the burden of proof resting on it. This side is obligated to provide evidence for its position. The claim of the other side, the one that does not bear the burden of proof, is assumed to be true unless proven otherwise. The difficulty in such cases is determining which side, if any, the burden of proof rests on. In many cases, settling this issue can be a matter of significant debate. In some cases the burden of proof is set by the situation. For example, in American law a person is assumed to be innocent until proven guilty (hence the burden of proof is on the prosecution). As another example, in debate the burden of proof is placed on the affirmative team. As a final example, in most cases the burden of proof rests on those who claim something exists (such as Bigfoot, psychic powers, universals, and sense data).

We have a form of the existence claim here, completely unsupported, but in general this description is properly hedged so that it applies to reality. It doesn't claim more than that burden of proof is found "in many situations," it recognizes that there is often a considerable amount of dispute as to who actually has burden of proof, and it notes that burden of proof is in some cases "set by the situation," which is the most notable fact about burden of proof and yet somehow not sufficiently remarked. But it's clear that these are merely the phenomena of burden of proof; they do not constitute an account, and, indeed, the constant need to hedge makes clear that accounts of the sort identified above, which can't account for all the anomalous situations that require the hedges, simply will not do.

Obviously there are cases where a burden of proof does exist. And there is a fairly obvious account that handles all the phenomena without falling into either absurdity or handwaving, and that is that the obligation of burden of proof is not something that accrues automatically. It is created, constructed, made, either by some competent authority or by the agreement of parties, or, in other words: by rules, laws, or decisions legitimately imposed by legitimate authorities, or by contract. I've talked about this before. This position has all the strength of presumptive reasoning accounts, but evades their problems by recognizing that the presumptions in question must be shared, and looks at how shared presumptions come about (i.e., by authority or by agreement). We see from this why it is so messy.

We also get from this why people spend such an extraordinary amount of time talking about burden of proof rather than giving arguments: they are negotiating their obligations to other people, not, as they often pretend (as part of their negotiation), merely identifying obvious facts. The reason people argue so much about burden of proof is the same reason that people argue so much about what they will put into a contract or treaty or agreement. But there is no way around the fact that, when there is no authoritative imposition, this negotiation is necessary for any obligation to arise -- and that the negotiation is two-way.

Make Haste to be Undone

Caged Rats
by Ebenezer Elliott


Ye coop us up, and tax our bread,
And wonder why we pine;
But ye are fat, and round, and red,
And fill'd with tax-bought wine.
Thus, twelve rats starve while three
rats thrive,
(Like you on mine and me,)
When fifteen rats are caged alive,
With food for nine and three.

Haste! havoc's torch begins to glow,
The ending is begun;
Make haste; destruction thinks ye slow;
Make haste to be undone!
Why are ye call'd 'my lord,' and 'quire,'
While fed by mine and me,
And wringing food, and clothes and fire
From bread-tax'd misery?
Make haste, slow rogues! prohibit trade,
Prohibit honest gain;
Turn all the good that God hath made
To fear, and hate, and pain;
Till beggars all, assassins all,
All cannibals we be,
And death shall have no funeral
From shipless sea to sea.

And another Elliott, because you just can't get more striking than talented and genuine poetic rage.

Friday, May 11, 2012

All in the Forest Blythe

The Woodman's Song
by Thomas Cooper


I would not be a crownèd king,
For all his gaudy gear;
I would not be that pampered thing,
His gew-gaw gold to wear:
But I would be where I can sing
Right merrily, all the year;
Where forest treen,
All gay and green,
Full blythely do me cheer.

I would not be a gentleman,
For all his hawks and hounds,—
For fear the hungry poor should ban
My halls and wide-parked grounds:
But I would be a merry man,
Among the wild wood sounds,—
Where free birds sing,
And echoes ring
While my axe from the oak rebounds.

I would not be a shaven priest,
For all his sloth-won tythe:
But while to me this breath is leased,
And these old limbs are lithe,—
Ere Death hath marked me for his feast,
And felled me with his scythe,—
I'll troll my song,
The leaves among,
All in the forest blythe.

Thursday, May 10, 2012

Hildegard von Bingen News

Some notable news for those who are interested in St. Hildegard von Bingen:

The Holy Father today received in audience Cardinal Angelo Amato S.D.B., prefect of the Congregation for the Causes of Saints. During the audience he extended the liturgical cult of St. Hildegard of Bingen (1089-1179) to the universal Church, inscribing her in the catalogue of saints.

St. Hildegard was already listed as a saint in the Roman Martyrology, which is one of the official listings, so (contrary, for instance, to what Wikipedia now says) this is not a canonization in the proper sense. However, like a number of other saints in the Martyrology, she was not on the universal calendar, which gave her a somewhat ambiguous liturgical status, since she could only be liturgically commemorated when it would be appropriate to use the Roman Martyrology, or when an approved local calendar allowed it, rather than in a regular way by the whole Church with the usual Mass or Office. The Pope has changed this by extending her cultus to the universal church -- her feast is now open to liturgical commemoration everywhere (assuming, of course, it is not superceded by Sunday or some other major feast). That is, there is now a universal Feast of St. Hildegard, on September 17.

There have been rumors that the Pope plans to give Hildegard the liturgical title, "Doctor of the Church," at some point this year; and this would indeed be the first step to doing so, so there is almost certainly something to it.

Pity for Them All

The Silent Cell
by Ernest Charles Jones


Composed during illness, on the sixth day of my incarceration, in a solitary cell, on bread and water, and without books, --August, 1849.

They told me 'twas a fearful thing
to pine in prison lone:
The brain became a shrivelled scroll,
the heart a living stone.

Nor solitude, nor silent cell
The teeming mind can tame:
No tribute needs the granite-well;
No food the planet-flame.

Denied the fruit of others' thought,
To write my own denied,
Sweet sisters, Hope and Memory, brought
Bright volumes to my side.

And oft we trace, with airy pen,
Full many a word of worth;
For Time will pass, and Freedom then
Shall flash them on the earth.

They told me that my veins would flag,
My ardour would decay;
And heavily their fetters drag
My blood's young strength away.

Like conquerors bounding to the goal,
Where cold, white marble gleams,
Magnificent red rivers! roll!-
Roll! all you thousand streams!.

Oft, to passion's stormy gale,
When sleep I seek in vain,
Fleets of fancy up them sail,
And anchor in my brain.

But never a wish for base retreat,
Or thought of a recreant part,
While yet a single pulse shall beat
Proud marches in my heart.

They'll find me still unchanged and strong,
when breaks their puny thrall;
With hate-for not one living soul-
And pity-for them all.

Jones was one of the most prominent Chartists, and actively worked to take the movement in a more socialist direction. The incarceration that was the occasion for the poem occurred because he had been advocating violent revolution.

Wednesday, May 09, 2012

Two Minor Things I Have Learned Today


(1) This blog provides three of the examples for wordnik's definition for epizeuxis. All three of them come from this post.

(2) Wikipedia has a list of common misconceptions. It opens with the words, "This incomplete list is not intended to be exhaustive." [ADDED LATER: Which I actually find funny in itself; under what circumstances would you open a list by saying, "This incomplete list is intended to be exhaustive"?]

If things seem to be slow around here at the moment, it's because it's the last week of term. I gave my Ethics class its final exam today, and my last class of term is tomorrow.

A Heart of Fire and a Soul of Steel

From "The Engine"
by Alexander Anderson


"On fire-horses and wind-horses we career."—Carlyle.


Hurrah! for the mighty engine,
As he bounds along his track:
Hurrah, for the life that is in him,
And his breath so thick and black.
And hurrah for our fellows, who in their need
Could fashion a thing like him—
With a heart of fire, and a soul of steel,
And a Samson in every limb.

Ho! stand from that narrow path of his,
Lest his gleaming muscles smite,
Like the flaming sword the archangel drew
When Eden lay wrapped in night;
For he cares, not he, for a paltry life
As he rushes along to the goal,
It but costs him a shake of his iron limb,
And a shriek from his mighty soul.

Yet I glory to think that I help to keep
His footsteps a little in place,
And he thunders his thanks as he rushes on
In the lightning speed of his race,
And I think that he knows when he looks at me,
That, though made of clay as I stand,
I could make him as weak as a three hours' child
With a paltry twitch of my hand.

But I trust in his strength, and he trusts in me,
Though made but of brittle clay,
While he is bound up in the toughest of steel,
That tires not night or day;
But for ever flashes, and stretches, and strives,
While he shrieks in his smoky glee—
Hurrah for the puppets that, lost in their thoughts,
Could rub the lamp for me!

O that some Roman—when Rome was great—
Some quick, light Greek or two—
Could come from their graves for one half-hour
To see what my fellows can do;
I would take them with me on this world's wild steed,
And give him a little rein;
Then rush with his clanking hoofs through space,
With a wreath of smoke for his mane....

You can read the rest of it here. Anderson, who became known as the Poet of the Iron Horse, worked in a quarry and was mostly self-taught. His most famous poem is probably Cuddle Doon, a very gentle poem about putting the children to bed; but for the most part he lauds the steam engine, the railways, and the working man.