Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Ba-Umf

Karawane
by Hugo Ball

14th july 1916

jolifanto bambla ô falli bambla
grossiga m'pfa habla horem
égiga goramen
higo bloiko russula huju
hollaka hollala
anlogo bung
blago bung
blago bung
bosso fataka
ü üü ü
schampa wulla wussa ólobo
hej tatta gôrem
eschige zunbada
wulubu ssubudu uluw ssubudu
tumba ba-umf
kusagauma
ba-umf

To appreciate it, you really have to hear it; and nobody has ever done it better than Marie Osmond. The poem, of course, is all nonsense; Hugo Ball was one of the better Dadaist poets, although, over all, his wife, Emmy Hennings, was probably superior.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Notes and Links

* I am something of a complete idiot; until Tom's recent post on De Morgan's spicular notation, I had never noticed the connection between the spicular notation and Euler diagrams. That makes so much sense, and I don't see how I could have missed it; and given that one can use different conventions in drawing Euler diagrams, it shows that spicular notations actually form a family, rather than a single arbitrary notation, of which De Morgan's version is only one. This opens up the possibility that there may be possible spicular notations that are better than De Morgan's. And as Tom notes in another post, recognizing the link between spicular notation and Euler diagrams makes clear the value of the former as a quasi-diagrammatic notation.

* Enbrethiliel has a post that, in its general points, pretty much sums up my view of the recent furor over Anne Rice's conversion to noninstitutional Christianity.

* Kim Sterelny on apprenticeship as a learning model for cultural learning. (ht)

* Steve Matheson on randomness in embryo growth, i.e., organized processes involving stochastic processes as subprocesses.

* Stanley Fish argues that plagiarism is not a big moral deal. I think he's right; the analogy between stealing and plagiarism has never actually been very strong. But it still can get you an F in my class. Plagiarism is a problem not because it is immoral in general but because it obscures evaluation on the actual merits of one's work in fields where reputation or money are important. And he's right about something more important, namely, that we should stop pretending the rules governing plagiarism are easy and obvious: students do not usually find them so. They have difficulty seeing the proper line between common knowledge and what must be cited; they have difficulty seeing the relevance of particular methods of citation; they don't have a clear conception for how paraphrase fits into the scheme of things; and so forth. Moreover, the conventions governing plagiarism are not uniform across all fields. If you want to be a lawyer dealing with contracts, for instance, you will succeed best if you have a large file of very different kinds of prior contracts that you can simply copy and adapt and mix-and-match whenever new occasions arise, rather than absurdly trying to start from scratch each time. Nobody will ever get bothered by the fact that the contract language is exactly the same as some other contract; reputation and money for lawyers simply doesn't depend on how much work they themselves put into the particular contract language used. And while that's an extreme case, there are lots of fields where common practices would count as plagiarism if they were done in some other field.

That said, Fish is simply wrong that if plagiarism is an artificial and conventional concept rather than a fundamental moral one that there is no point in looking at its philosophical underpinnings; philosophers have been looking at the philosophical underpinnings of purely conventional practices since Socrates. And, in fact, it's those philosophical underpinnings that show that, contrary to common belief, originality or literary property has nothing to do with it; plagiarism conventions exist not to protect originality or literary property but to limit rewards to people who actually and consistently do the work, to prevent people who let others do the work from being rewarded as if they had done it. This is why plagiarism conventions have to vary somewhat across fields -- what counts as 'the work' is itself something that varies across fields.

* For the first time in a long time it looks like there's a promising answer to the question of whether P is equal to NP. It's something of an esoteric question, but like many esoteric questions in mathematics, it has practical implications: if P is equal to NP, many codes and computer security systems are breakable that would be relatively unbreakable if P is not equal to NP. (If I haven't garbled that too badly; it's well outside my field.)

ADDED LATER: John Perry clarifies in the comments: "If P = NP, it's not quite true that many codes would become unbreakable: they would, rather, be unbreakable in a number of operations that is deterministically polynomial in the worst case. However, that worst case could have a quite high and impractical exponent, and could occur frequently enough in practice to render the method useless in many cases."

* The physics of the Beacon of Gondor. As some of the commenters notes, the system is based on the Malverns. A beacon of fires similarly conveys word back to Argos that Troy has fallen in Aeschylus's Agamemnon, but there are notorious problems with both time and geographical location in Aeschylus's description of it. Aeschylus is probably trying to give a plausible system for the Greeks that would do for them (i.e., give advanced notice) what the Persian rider-system (one of the things the Greeks admired about the Persian empire) did for the Persians. Tolkien is very clear, I think, that the beacon-system is actually combined with a rider-system, which would be the most reasonable way to do it: the beacon would provide an alert, details to follow by fast horse. So all the beacon ultimately has to do is outrun the horses, warning each station in advance to start getting riders ready because an emergency message is coming. This would massively cut down on wasted time, the biggest problem with a rider-system; and it would prevent the beacon-system from breaking down (even if station B doesn't pick up station A's signal, this will be fixed when the riders from A reach B and the beacon begins again). There still would be room for the system to break down, but the chances are that everyone would at least know that something was up. You want a fast alert system, but fast alert systems don't usually carry a lot of information (when the Horn of Buckland blows you know there's a big problem somewhere, but you don't know if it's bandits or floods or fires); and you want an adequate message system, but adequate message systems usually have a lot of inefficiencies. It makes sense to combine the two.

* The Library of Historical Apologetics (ht)

* Last week my sister took me to see Inception at the Alamo Draft House (for my birthday this past weekend); very good. One of the reasons it is good is that it is about the only movie that captures dreaming properly: conveying not only its surreal association but also the fact that these associations flesh out very logical correspondences and implications. If you see any big Hollywood movie this year, this is it. It's basically a caper movie, but I was impressed as to how well the characterization was done, given that by it's nature it's not a character-driven story but a plot-driven one.

Monday, August 09, 2010

Non-Become and Imperishable

The entire world of becoming is permeated by that order which permits every created being (ens) to strive for its own perfection and to aid other created beings on their way to perfection. This order itself, however, is not subject to becoming and passing away, but is non-become and imperishable. And just as that which is signified by the term "human being" [Mensch] is neither born nor passes away, so als o that which is signified by "holiness" (denoting the perfection of a person and, in a derivative sense, that which ministers to the perfection of a person or bears the stamp of a person) is not subject to any becoming, notwithstanding the fact that holiness may become actual and may therefore become the goal of striving.

Edith Stein, Finite and Eternal Being, p. 316. Today, of course, is the feastday of Edith Stein, also known as St. Teresia Benedicta of the Cross, who died on this day in 1942 in the concentration camp at Auschwitz, along with her sister Rosa.

Hansai

I have been accused of being “high-minded.” I must be saying “You may not do evil that good may come,” which is a disagreeably high-minded doctrine. The action was necessary, or at any rate it was thought by competent, expert military opinion to be necessary; it probably saved more lives than it sacrificed; it had a good result, it ended the war. Come now: if you had to choose between boiling one baby and letting some frightful disaster befall a thousand people—or a million people, if a thousand is not enough—what would you do? Are you going to strike an attitude and say “You may not do evil that good may come”? (People who never hear such arguments will hardly believe they take place, and will pass this rapidly by.)
[G. E. M. Anscombe, "Mr. Truman's Degree".]

On this day in 1945, American forces dropped the plutonium-based "Fat Man" bomb over the Catholic district in Nagasaki. The bomb exploded within 500 meters of the Urakami Cathedral. At least 40000 people, and perhaps as many as 70000, died within one minute of the bombing. There's a famous book by Takashi Nagai, called The Bells of Nagasaki, which describes the event and its aftermath. Nagai was himself a survivor of it, and was asked later that year to deliver the Funeral Address at the Requiem Mass for the dead; in it he referred to the Catholics who had died as a hansai, which is the word used in Japanese for a whole burnt offering -- a holocaust.

Sunday, August 08, 2010

Wagering on Seeking

According to the doctrine of chance, you ought to put yourself to the trouble of searching for the truth; for if you die without worshipping the True Cause, you are lost. "But," say you, "if He had wished me to worship Him, He would have left me signs of His will." He has done so; but you neglect them. Seek them, therefore; it is well worth it.

Pascal, Pensées 236. Note that the argument here is that we should inquire; this is a theme that comes up a number of times in Wager passages. It also shows indirectly why the too-common practice of focusing on 233 (the larger Wager fragment) is problematic, since there are other fragments that put the Wager in perspective. It's a flaw in Hajek's otherwise interesting SEP article, for instance. But a certain amount of leeway can be allowed, given that we face with Pascal's Wager a problem we don't usually face: the Pensées are posthumously published fragments. Pascal was building up a Wager argument but we don't have it. What we do have are a bunch of draft fragments. I think we have enough to piece together quite a bit and determine approximately what Pascal would have ended up with, but it takes work; so it's not surprising that people just focus on the largest Wager fragment as if it were 'the' Wager argument, rather than (what it certainly must be, given other fragments) merely a sketch of part of it. But the result is that people lose sight of just how much of Pascal's argument, if completed according to the notes we have, would have had to do not with belief but with inquiry. (Another result is that people lose sight of the fact that most of the Wager-relevant fragments show clearly that Pascal is arguing against a particular group of people who are arguing that Christians are irrational not to suspend judgment, and it is this he is attacking, not atheism.)

Saturday, August 07, 2010

On Myers on Baber

PZ Myers has an amusingly bad post on a recent column by Harriet Baber. If you know anything about both of them, you know just how far Myers is out of his league in taking on Baber, particularly since Myers has, over the years, shown an increasing inability to apply even basic critical thinking skills to evaluating his own reasoning; but Baber is here working with a hand tied behind her back, explaining a sophisticated technical argument to a lay audience in a popular journalistic space, and Myers is working with every advantage, since he had every chance to look at Baber's argument with however much leisure he needed to come up with a devastating reply, and she's still running circles around him.

One sees the root problem right at the very beginning of Myers's post:

I know Pascal was a brilliant fellow, but his wager is bollocks — it's built on the premise of the unreliability of reason and the deficiencies of evidence, reducing our choices to desperate gambles, where we make decisions only on the basis of the desirability of outcomes — a strategy, by the way, that makes casinos rich and gamblers paupers. Accepting Pascal's Wager is admitting the defeat of reason, a very peculiar position for a philosopher.

What is remarkable about this audacious claim is how obviously false it is. Whenever people are talking about Pascal's Wager, one needs to distinguish between the Wager as actually found in Pascal's fragments, and probable interpretations thereof, and the more common decision-theoretical arguments (of the sort that Jeff Jordan discusses fairly well in his Gambling on God [sorry, that should be his *Pascal's Wager*, which is a different book]) that, while not Pascalian in the proper sense, belong to the same overall family of argument; but one thing that both the properly Pascalian and the broadly Pascalian Wagers share is that they are arguments for the reliability of reason even under the most plausible conditions that maximally favor agnosticism about reason in this area. That is, Wager arguments are, down to every single argument, arguments for the reliability of reason operating on practical considerations in light of the ends of inquiry. For instance, in the Wager fragments written by Pascal himself, Pascal explicitly argues against an agnostic who claims that our only rational option is to suspend judgment on questions of God altogether. Against this, Pascal argues (1) that even under the agnostic's own assumptions practical reason can still identify reasons for not suspending judgment; (2) that it can identify, in terms of the ends and aims governing rational practices of judgment in the first place, reasons for thinking particular options more fruitful; and (3) that it can give, even (again) on the agnostic's own assumptions, reasons for thinking that we should inquire without curtailing our inquiry with those agnostic assumptions in the first place. In Pascal's terms, we can still look for 'inside information' that will improve our gamble. What is more, any look at Pascalian Wagers shows that no one who has actually taken trouble to think through them critically could make the claim that their only consideration is "the desirability of the outcome". In typical Wager arguments, including Pascal's own, the desirability of the outcome is only relevant to determining the value of finding a means to obtain the outcome, if it can be obtained, and even then is always determined with regard not only to how nice things would be if things went well but also with regard to how much is risked and how serious those risks are -- a fact that Myers conveniently overlooks in pretending that the reasoning is the sort "that makes casinos rich and gamblers paupers." Likewise, I find it a bit amusing that Myers evaluates the Wager by taking it to propose a literal gamble, rather than formal structure or (in my own preferred interpretation of Pascal's own Wager) a series of formal structures connected dialectically; I expect him any day now to insist pompously, like some of the less clever internet ID theorists, that Dawkins's Weasel argument obviously fails to support its conclusion because it reduces natural selection to a program; this is precisely the shallow level of evaluative analysis we have here. Pascal, of course, uses the language of a Wager because of his intended audience: reasoning related to gambling was the most rigorous form of practical reasoning with which the sort of cultured skeptic who comes up again and again in the fragments would have been familiar; and other Wager arguments, when they have kept the gambling vocabulary, have done so because of Pascalian tradition. The sort of evaluation Myers gives us is the sort of thing that can be expected only from someone with a very limited acquaintance with Wager arguments, one in which Wager arguments are mostly known only through loose and uncritically accepted second-hand summaries.

But this is actually the high point, rationally speaking, in Myers's post. From this point on, the looseness of the analysis increases and Myers even assumes that Baber's point is that "truth is unimportant to her". But this is not what she says; what she says is (1) that there are many truths (note the plural, which Myers conveniently drops) that are simply not of great importance; (2) that truth is overrated if it is taken to require that inquiry is optimizing of truth rather than merely satisficing; and (3) that, in fact, satisficing is a perfectly reasonable strategy for handling "the big questions". None of these three points imply that truth is unimportant; the only one that is even actually consistent with the claim that truth (no plural) is unimportant is (2), and (2) is the only one with regard to which Baber is insufficiently clear, and thus the only one which Myers has any excuse for missing. Baber, in other words, is (as she explicitly says) arguing that the best strategy with regard to truth when inquiring into "the big questions" is a strategy involving satisficing truth rather than optimizing it. Nor does her argument involve any sort of "casual contempt" towards curiosity about the world; rather, it simply points out that there are truths about the world that a person, depending on their particular background and interests, need not think important. And unless Myers thinks it is somehow a matter of crucial importance -- so much so that he must insist that everyone know it or be accused of contempt for curiosity -- to know how many socks I have in my sock drawer, or the traffic laws governing speed limits along stretches of 183 in Austin, Texas, or the standard Sikh view of the relationship between Islam and Hinduism, or (to use Baber's own example, which Myers, unsurprisingly, completely fails to grasp) the exact state of each and every one of Harriet Baber's teeth (the inquiry into all of which would involve discovering real truths about the world), then he is simply trying to build an argument on rhetoric that he has not properly thought through or else is using through deliberate dishonesty. There is no third option here. No honest person really believes that each and every single truth is crucially important; what determines whether a truth is crucially important is not its truth but its practical value. Likewise, no critical thinker holds that any and every choice between [possible -ed.] truths is equally valuable; and what determines whether a given choice is valuable is not that truth is at stake but practical ends and aims. Serious inquiry into the truth -- that is, inquiry that is real inquiry and does not simply use 'truth' in the incantatory way Myers is using it here -- is a practical activity, and as such is governed by practical goals. It takes no elaborately difficult effort to follow Baber's reasoning, even if one disagrees with it; the only possible way anyone could misinterpret Baber as badly as Myers has done here is if they really and truly do not care what Baber's argument, which (in the form here) is a fairly straightforward argument for a fairly limited conclusion, actually is, and therefore exercise no critical reading skills in handling it.

I said Myers's post was amusingly bad, and, given how completely off he is in his interpretation of a fairly elementary argument (since Baber is only giving a popularized summary of a more technical argument), it can be; but Myers's post is also to some extent a very sad thing, since it shows all the faults that have become increasingly common in Myers's reasoning. There was a time when he was a fairly sharp commentator, and would never have made the amateurish and in some cases, frankly, dimwitted maneuvers that he makes here. But reason is in great measure social, and that means it is heavily influenced by the company one keeps; and any look at the Pharyngula comment boxes or some of the places on the web Myers links shows exactly what the quality of company he has been keeping is. And, very noticeably, his arguments have increasingly taken on some of the worst features of the glib and mindless people with whom he is constantly interacting: the tendency to begin not with the actual arguments but with a simplistic caricature of them; the attempt to build an argument not on the basis of relevant examples but on the basis of vague, incantatory rhetoric; the tendency to assume that if his opponents argue for a qualification of some claim that they are arguing for the complete falsehood of that claim; the increasing framing of every particular point as an either/or between his preferred view and irrationality; the sneering at positions in ways that show clearly that no effort was actually made to understand the position in the first place; the appeals, which were always a weakness of Myers's and have only become more common, to pseudo-history rather than actual historical evidence; the increasingly common failure to consider that if he doesn't understand an argument that it might be better to raise an elucidating objection than to dismiss the argument out of hand. The list could be made much longer. We all have our faults when it comes to rational thinking, because real rationality takes a lot of work, some of it very difficult. But the faults exhibited on Myers's blog have slowly but steadily converged on the very worst traits of the internet kook, namely those that involve laying claim to rationality while showing clear signs of not having even bothered to try to do the work required to make that claim legitimate. There is, I think, hope for Myers yet, and hope that we might again get arguments from him that are actually worth intellectual respect and rumination rather than the laughable junk-food imitations that he has increasingly thrown out. I hope that at some point he again starts making an actual effort with respecting; he used to make them, and there's no particular reason why he couldn't start making them again. In the meantime he serves as a warning of how dangerous the internet can be to one's reasoning skills, and the importance of not being too glib in one's criticisms and of instead holding yourself to addressing the actual claims made by your opponent rather than some cartoon version of them.

UPDATE: Baber shows up in the comments on Myers's post and notes, with the sarcastic brevity she often has, both the ignorance of Wager arguments and the incantatory use of truth I had mentioned:

Hello, PZ--pleased to meet you.

What amazes me about the comments I got at the Guardian site and elsewhere is how pious secularists are. I'm just a simple, self-serving hedonist.

For a nice discussion of Pascal's Wager, try the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy article at http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/pascal-wager.

UPDATE 2: Ophelia Benson also has a discussion of Baber's article, and while it's written in her usual drive-by-argument style, it's useful for showing the sort of post that Myers could have written (and which wouldn't have led to my writing an exasperated post). I think Ophelia reads Baber as arguing for a much stronger conclusion than Baber actually is, but even if that's right it's an entirely reasonable error; and she rightly sees that the primary issue with the article is the implicit theory of motivation. The comments discussion, with the exception of one or two dunderheads who have thought that insulting H.E. is an argument, has also been far more intelligent than anything you'd get at Pharyngula, too.

Moon and Waters

Now a cause is the higher the more superior its effect. And so those who wish to investigate certain effects in terms of causes that are inferior are deceived. For example, if one were to consider the movement of water in terms of the power of water, he would not be able to know the cause of the tides of the sea; to do this he would have to consider water in terms of the power of the moon. Thus, those people are even more deceived who consider the proper effects of God in terms of the elements of the world. But this is the reason for the seeming plausibility of what they say.

Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on Colossians, Fabian Larcher, tr. (Sapientia Press: 2006) p. 52 (section 92). I have modified parts of the translation.