Reading Notes: August 29th, 2024

“A surface is commonly defined as the boundary of a space. Thus, the surface of a metal sphere is the boundary between the metal and the air; it is not part either of the metal or of the air; two dimensions only are ascribed to it. Analogously, the one-dimensional line is the boundary of a surface; for example, the equator is the boundary of the surface of a hemisphere. The dimensionless point is the boundary of a line; for example, of the arc of a circle. A point, by its motion, generates a one-dimensional line, a line a two-dimensional surface, and a surface a three-dimensional solid space….No difficulties are presented by this concept to minds at all skilled in abstraction. It suffers, however, from the drawback that it does not exhibit, but on the contrary, artificially conceals, the natural and actual way in which the abstractions have been reached…A more homogeneous conception is reached if every measurement be regarded as a counting of space by means of immediately adjacent, spatially identical, or at least hypothetically identical, bodies, whether we be concerned with volumes, with surfaces, or with lines. Surfaces may be regarded as corporeal sheets, having everywhere the same constant thickness which we may make small at will, vanishingly small; lines, as strings or threads of constant, vanishingly small thickness. A point then becomes a small corporeal space from the extension of which we purposely abstract, whether it be part of another space, of a surface, or of a line. (Mach, Space and Geometry, 48-49)

“As we see, every geometrical measurement is at bottom reducible to measurements of volumes, to the enumeration of bodies. Measurements of lengths, like measurements of areas, repose on the comparison of the volumes of very thin strings, sticks, and leaves of constant thickness.” (Mach, Space and Geometry, 81)

“If we were to ask an unbiased, candid person under what form he pictured space, referred, for example, to the Cartesian system of coordinates, he would doubtless say: I have the image of a system of rigid (form-fixed), transparent, penetrable, contiguous cubes, having their bounding surfaces marked only by nebulous visual and tactual percepts,—a species of phantom cubes. Over and through these phantom constructions the real bodies or their phantom counterparts move, conserving their spatial permanency.” (Mach, Space and Geometry, 83-84)

“In geometry one sometimes starts with the concept of the measure of length without properly having established this concept. In doing so it is taken for granted that all the lengths occurring in a figure have a determinate numerical ratio to one of them chosen by us. The length chosen is then called the unit of length. The number indicating how often the unit is contained in a line segment is called the measure-number of this line segment. The line segment to be measured can be either commensurable or incommensurable to the unit; in the latter case the measure number will be irrational [i.e., cannot be represented by a ratio of two integers]. The measure-number of a square’s diagonal for example is irrational if the side of the square is chosen as the unit.” (Hölder, Intuition and Reasoning in Geometry, §24)

“The concept of content of plane figures and bodies has not been constructed deductively by Euclid, but it is possible to do so. In the case of bodies, one may regard the content as an empirical concept extracted from the usage of measures of capacity [e.g., ounces, cups, pints, quarts and gallons; or liters, centiliters, milliliters and kiloliters] in measuring fluids, and in this way one may also get to the content of plane figures. Euclid takes it for granted that figures have content, and that to them also the axioms apply that equals added to equals yield equals and the greater the added to the greater yields the greater. If however one does not want to presuppose the concept of content, but to establish it geometrically, one first and foremost has to show that figures, in particular figures of different form, can be compared as to their magnitude. As a first step congruent figures will be declared to be equal; the figure that completely comprises the other figure will be called the greater one. In order to compare any two figures, they have however to be cut through, and it must be proved that the result of the comparison does not depend on the actual way this is done. The construction of the proportions of line segments as well as of the concept of content presupposes that certain geometrical operations are repeated an indefinite number of times. Indeed, in the consideration of proportion, we had to take the nth multiple of a line segment, n being an indeterminate number.” (Hölder, Intuition and Reasoning in Geometry, §30-§31)

Reading Notes: August 28th, 2024

“Why don’t you have a special “Neo-Hegelian Department” in “Mind,” like the “Children’s Department” or the “Agricultural Department” in our newspapers—which educated readers skip?” (William James, Letter to G. Croom Robertson (Editor of “Mind”), Aug. 13, 1886)

“The most promising man we have in this country is, in my opinion, the above-mentioned Royce, a young Californian of thirty, who is really bult for a metaphysician, and who is, besides that, a very complete human being, alive at every point….He has just been in here, interrupting this letter, and I have told him he must send a copy of his book, the “Religious Aspect of Philosophy,” to you, promising to urge you to read it when you have the time….The second half [of the book] is a new argument for monistic idealism, an argument based on the possibility of truth and error in knowledge, subtle in itself, and rather lengthily expounded, but seeming to be to be one of the few big original suggestions of recent philosophical writing. I have vainly tried to escape from it. I still suspect it of inconclusiveness, but I frankly confess that I am unable to overthrow it. Since you too are an anti-idealist, I wish very much you would try your critical teeth upon it. I can assure you that, if you come to close quarters with it, you will say its author belongs to the genuine philosophic breed.” (William James, Letter to Carl Stumpf, Feb. 6th, 1887)

Reading Notes: August 22nd, 2024

“This is the true spirit of transcendental Idealism. All Being is Knowledge. The foundation of the universe is not anti-spirit, un-spirit, the relation and connection of which with spirit we should never be able to understand, but is itself spirit. No death, no lifeless matter; but everywhere life, spirit, intelligence: a spiritual empire, absolutely nothing else.” (Fichte, New Exposition of the Science of Knowledge, §3)

“In truth, as we shall come to see, regarded in itself, my mind can be concerned only with its own ideas….But if my mind can be concerned only with its own ideas, then sincerity and truth are identical….What I talk about will be my ideas; their objects will be themselves other ideas of mine; and meaning only these ideas when I make assertions, I cannot fail to make correct assertions about these, the objects that I mean.” (Royce, The Religious Aspect of Philosophy, 378)

“We can only find or commit an error, not create it. When we commit an error, we say what was an error already.” (Royce, The Religious Aspect of Philosophy, 394)

“As common sense conceives the matter…the object of any judgment is just that portion of the then conceived world, just that fragment, that aspect, of a supposed reality, which is sieved upon for the purpose of just this judgment. Only such a momentarily grasped fragment of the truth can possibly be present in any one moment of thought as the object of a single assertion. Now it is hard to say how within this arbitrarily chosen fragment itself there can still be room for the partial knowledge that is sufficient to give to the judgment its object, but insufficient to secure the judgment its accuracy….[In] the judgment, the choosing and knowing the object seem inseparable….Since the judgment chooses its own object, and has it only so far as it chooses it, how can it be in that partial relation to its object which is implied in the supposition of an erroneous assertion?....Is not the object of a judgment, in so far as it is unknown to that judgment, like the Unknowable for that judgment? To be in error about the application of a symbol, you must have a symbol that symbolizes something. But in so far as the thing symbolized is not known through the symbol, how is it symbolized by that symbol? Is it not, like the Unknowable, once for all out of the thought, so that one cannot just then be thinking about it at all, and so cannot, in this thought at least, be making blunders about it? But in so far as the thing symbolized is, through the symbol, in one’s thought, why is it not known, and so correctly judged?” (Royce, The Religious Aspect of Philosophy, 399-402)

“Let us attempt a sort of provisional psychological description of a judgment as a state of mind. So regarded, a judgment is simply a fact that occurs in somebody’s thought. If we try to describe it an occurrence…we shall perhaps find in it three elements….The elements are: The Subject, with the accompanying shade of curiosity about it; the Predicate, with the accompanying sense of its worth in satisfying a part of our curiosity about the subject; and the Sense of Dependence, whereby we feel the value of this act to lie, not in itself, but in its agreement with a vaguely felt Beyond, that stands out there as Object. [For] the one judgment, the object, whether full and clear or not, exists as object only in so far forth as the sense of dependence has defined it. And the judgment is true or false only with reference to this undefined object….In its typical form then, the judgment as a mental state seems to us to begin with a relatively incomplete or unstable or disconnected mass of consciousness, which we have called the Subject, as it first begins to be present to us. This subject-idea is attended by some degree of effort, namely, of attention, whose tendency is to complete this incomplete subject by bringing it into closer connection with more familiar mental life. This more familiar life is represented by the predicate-idea. If the effort is successful, the subject has new elements united to it, assumes in consciousness a definiteness, a coherency with other states, a familiarity, which it lacked at the outset of the judgment; and this coherency it gets through its union with the predicate. All this is accompanied further by what one for short may call a sense of dependence. The judgment feels itself not alone, but looks to a somewhat indefinite object as the model after which the present union of ideas is to be fashioned….[As] true or as false the judgment must be viewed in respect to the indefinite object of what we have called the sense of dependence, whereby the judgment is accompanied….[For] the one judgment, the object, whether full and clear or not, exists as object only in so far forth as the sense of dependence has defined it. And the judgment is true or false only with reference to this undefined object. The intention to agree with the object is contained in the sense of dependence upon the object, and remains for this judgment incomplete, like the object itself. Somewhat vaguely this single act intends to agree with this vague object. Such being the case, how can the judgment, as thus described, fairly be called false? As mere psychological combination of ideas it is neither true nor false. As accompanied by the sense of dependence upon an object, it would be false if it disagreed with its imperfectly defined object. But, as described, the only object that the judgment has is this imperfectly defined one. With this, in so far as it is for the moment defined, the judgment must needs agree. In so far as it is not defined, it is however not object for this judgment at all, but for some other one….The object of a single judgment, being what it is, namely, a vaguely defined object, present to this judgment, is just what it is for this judgment, and the judgment seems once for all to be true, in case it is sincere.” (Royce, The Religious Aspect of Philosophy, 402-405)

“Thought…is an organic unity. Separated from all else but its own incompletely defined object, a single judgment cannot be erroneous. Only in the organic unity of a series of judgments, having a common object, is the error of one of them possible….We cannot see how a single sincere judgment should possibly fail to agree with its own chosen object….[Mere] disagreement of a thought with any random object does not make the thought erroneous….The judgment must agree with its chosen object.” (Royce, The Religious Aspect of Philosophy, 405-409)

“Truth cannot mean mere conformity of [judgment] to external object; first, because nobody can [determine the truth or falsity of a judgment] merely by asking whether it agrees with this or with that indifferent fact, but only by asking whether it agrees with that with which the knowing subject meant or intended it to agree; secondly, because nobody can look down, as from without, upon a world of wholly external objects on the one hand, and of his [judgments] upon the other, and estimate, as an indifferent spectator, their agreement; and thirdly, because the cognitive process, as itself a part of life, is essentially an effort to give to life unity, self-possession, insight into its own affairs, control of its own enterprises—in a word, wholeness. Cognition does not intend merely to represent its object, but to attain, to possess, and to come into a living unity with it.” (Royce, Logical Essays, 111)

“Thus, then, for a judgment to have an object, there must be something about the judgment that shows what one of the external objects that are beyond itself this judgment does pick out as its own. But this something that gives the judgment its object can only be the intention wherewith the judgment is accompanied. A judgment has as object only what it intends to have as object. It has to conform only to that which it wants to conform. But the essence of an intention is the knowledge of what one intends....Unless a man is thinking of the object of which I suppose him to be thinking, he makes no real error by merely failing to agree with the object that I have in mind.” (Royce, The Religious Aspect of Philosophy, 396-397)

Reading Notes: August 20th, 2024

“And Russell’s objection to absolutism is met by the appeal to experience. His dilemma (either the relation is independent of the subject, which it qualifies, or it is nothing) vanishes before the discovery that I am a self relating my different experiences (e.g., two conflicting desires). For this ‘relating’ and the terms which it relates are alike within me—they are ‘something’ and they qualify me—and yet they are not ‘logically prior’ to me.” (Calkins, The Persistent Problems of Philosophy, 420)

“The monist…reasons the ultimate reality must consist in absolute self. To this doctrine the pluralist [argues] that the conception of a self as including selves involves an impossibility….In defense of his first objection, the pluralist insists: The monist conceives what is directly contrary to human experience. Misled by a spatial metaphor, he talks of minds as if they were ‘Chinese boxes which can be put inside of each other,’ whereas one self simply cannot include another self. Now it is open to the monist to retort: Pluralism involves the reality of an experience at least equally inconceivable, in that it conceives of essentially distinct selves as aware of each other. The reality of my experience of other selves involves, the monist well may insist, the only sort of ‘inclusion’ of selves within an absolute self which monism claims. But to meet charge with counter charge is an unsatisfying argument, even when, as here, one believes that one’s opponent’s inconsistency implies the truth that he criticizes. The monist has, in fact, a reply far better than a tu quoque to the pluralist’s charge. For he can show that the private experience of each one of us furnishes the example of a self inclusive of selves. How sharply, for example, I distinguish my childhood self, the self of one jubilant year of youth, the self of a period of philosophical vagaries, from what I know as my whole self, myself par excellence. Even without the distinction by temporal periods, I am conscious of well-differentiated partial selves within myself—of a radical and a conservative self, a frivolous and a strenuous self, for example. Such self-differentiation of the finite self makes it impossible to deny a priori the inclusion of partial selves within the absolute self.” (Calkins, The Persistent Problems of Philosophy, 435-436)

“Ultimate reality is absolute self, not a totality of related conscious selves, but a Self, inclusive of the many selves, yet characterized by a single personality. The absolute self is conscious of himself, as I am conscious of myself; but whereas I may distinguish myself from selves in some sense beyond me, he distinguishes himself only from selves in some sense within him. Thus he at once shares in the experience of each of these selves, for it is his experience, and yet transcends this experience, since his consciousness is more than a sum of different consciousnesses—since, in other words, he is conscious of himself as unique, as individual. The lesser selves, of whom I am one, are thus expressions, objects, of the emotion and the will of the absolute self; they exist because he has a nature such that it must express itself in these unique ways. My consciousness is, then, “identically a part” of the experience of the absolute self, “not similar…but identically the same as such portion,” and this explains why I know the objects, though not all the objects, which the absolute self knows. My distinction from the absolute self is, in part, a purely quantitative difference, shown in the fact that I do not know so much as he. In part, however, it is the difference of the Absolute, as self, as utterly unique personality, from any one of the totality of included selves. From this difference, it follows that the lesser self does not, necessarily, feel and will with the Absolute; whereas the absolute self, besides possessing his own, the ultimate, personality, must feel and will with every partial self.” (Calkins, The Persistent Problems of Philosophy, 439-440)

“We saw that it is characteristic of the spiritual life that it is conducted from the whole; the elements are moulded by a comprehensive unity; the different complexes and tendencies which arise with this life strive ultimately towards a single realm….The unity essential to this purpose cannot arise out of the many as an ultimate result; it must be original and be operative from the beginning. We may postulate such a unity only if the spiritual life is itself a universal life transcending that of the isolated individuals; if it bears in itself a unity which takes the multiplicity up into itself….Further, the taking up of the object into the life process, the transcendence of the antithesis of subject and object, is characteristic of the spiritual life. But this remained an inner contradiction, a complete impossibility so long as the spiritual life was regarded as an occurrence in a being who, with a closed nature, stands over against things, as though they were alien; and who can take up nothing into himself without accommodating it to his own particular nature. The contradiction is removed only when the spiritual becomes independent; for then both sides of the antithesis come to belong to each other and are related to each other in a single life; and a life transcending the division may develop, a life that produces the antithesis from within lives in the different sides and seeks in them its own perfection. The life-process is now seen to be a movement that is neither from object to subject, nor from subject to object; neither the subject’s attainment of content from the object, nor the object’s becoming controlled by the subject, but as an advance of a self-conscious life in and through the antithesis. Life, by this movement, ceases to be a single, thin thread; it wins breadth; it expands to an inner universality. At the same time a depth is manifested in that a persistent and comprehensive activity emerges which lives in the antithesis. In this manner life first becomes a life in a spiritual sense, a self-conscious and self-determining life, a self-consciousness….The spiritual life is not directed to a reality adjacent to it, but evolves a reality out of itself; or rather, it develops into a reality, a kingdom, a world; and so it advances from vague outline to more complete development; it struggles for itself, for its own perfection, nor for anything external….The inward must necessarily present itself as the fundamental and the comprehensive; as that which in its invisibility sustains, dominates, and unifies the visible world. Nature, which there was a tendency to regard as the whole, is now of the essence of a wider reality and a stage in its development; it is impossible now for the conception formed from it to be regulative of the whole. Ultimately, therefore, reality cannot be regarded as something dead, detached, and given: it signifies to us something living, something experienced in itself, something sustained by incessant activity.” (Eucken, Life’s Basis and Life’s Ideal, 145-149)

“The soul of life is self-conquest through struggle.” (Eucken, Grundlinien einer neuen Lebensanschauung, 128)

“The larger consciousness does not lose the conscious incompleteness of the lesser, but gives that, just as it is, its place in the completed whole.” (Royce, The World and the Individual, Vol. II, 300)

“The presence in this sense of all time at once to the Absolute constitutes the Eternal order of the world—eternal, since it is inclusive of all distinctions of temporal past and temporal future—eternal, since, for this very reason, the totality of temporal events thus present at once to the Absolute, has no events that precede it or that follow it, but contains all sequences within it—eternal, finally, because this view of the world does not, like our partial glimpses of this or of that relative whole of sequence, pass away and give place to some other view, but includes an observation of every passing away, of every sequence…and includes all the views that are taken by various finite Selves.” (Royce, The World and the Individual, Vol. II, 141)

“To conceive in what sense the temporal order of the world is also an eternal order, we have, therefore, but to remember the sense in which the melody, or other sequence, is known at once to our own consciousness, despite the fact that its elements when viewed merely in their temporal succession are in so far not at once….The brief span of our consciousness, the small range of succession, that we can grasp at once, constitutes a perfectly arbitrary limitation of our own special type of consciousness. But in principle a time-sequence, however brief, is already viewed in a way that is not merely temporal, when…it is grasped at once….A consciousness related to the whole of the world’s events…precisely as our human consciousness is related to a single melody or rhythm…is an Eternal Consciousness.” (Royce, The World and the Individual, Vol. II, 141-142)

“The highest, extremest summit is pure Personality, which alone—through that absolute dialectic which is its nature—encloses and holds all within itself.” (Hegel, Logic, Bk. V, 339)

“The mind is not a ‘substance,’ but a ‘subject.’ In this rather tersely-put formula Hegel emphasizes his opposition to the ordinary metaphysics. The constituents of mind do not lie side-by-side tranquilly co-existent, like the sheep beside the herbage on which it browses. Their existence is maintained in an inward movement, by which, while they differentiate themselves, they still keep up an identity….The mind is not an immediate datum, with nothing behind it, coming upon the field of mental vision with a divinely-bestowed array of faculties; but a mediate unity, i.e., a unity which has grown up through a complex interchange of forces, and which lives in differences.” (Wallace, Prolegomena to The Logic of Hegel, lv-lvi)

Some Afterthoughts on Illusionism

According to Illusionism, nothing—whether it be an object or an experience—has sensory-qualities; and if an object (or experience) seems to have sensory-qualities, it is because “our brain’s introspective mechanisms” have “misrepresented” the object (or experience) as having them. The Illusionist’s position is “clever” (but only as “clever” as a parlor trick) because it interprets illusions in a way that does not introduce sensory-qualities—it interprets illusions strictly in terms of dispositions (e.g., the disposition to react as if the illusory thing existed; or, again, the disposition to judge/believe that we are aware of sensory-qualities—even though sensory-qualities do not exist, they only “seem” to exist).

As a result, one cannot “refute” Illusionism by saying, “But an experience of sensory-qualities can’t be an illusion because such an illusion would necessarily involve the presence of sensory-qualities.” Nor can one “refute” Illusionism by saying, “If I seem to be experiencing sensory-qualities, then I am experiencing sensory-qualities.” Against such objections, the Illusionist would be correct in saying that the objectors beg the question against the Illusionist position. 

As mentioned above, the Illusionist thinks that we can “misrepresent” objects (or experiences) as having sensory-qualities even if sensory-qualities don’t exist. The Illusionist tries to make this clear by providing examples the he believes are sufficient to establish the Illusionist’s foundation-stone: (i) the content of a representation need not exist in order for a representation of it to exist, and (ii) we have had many instances of observation wherein we have observed a “representation of a particular sensory-quality” (e.g., a representation of a red sensory-quality) as not having the particular determinate (or determinable) sensory-quality it represents (e.g., “A representation of a [sensory-quality] needn’t be qualitative, just as the word ‘red’ needn’t be red.” (Keith Frankish, Twitter/X, Sep 27th, 2019)

However, Illusionism cannot get off the ground unless it can establish the truth or plausibility of the following proposition:

There exist “representations of sensory-qualities” (e.g., a “representation of a red sensory-quality”) that not only do not have the particular determinate (or determinable) sensory-qualities they represent, but are themselves totally devoid of determinate (or determinable) sensory-qualities of any determinable kind.

Now, as I demonstrate in my essay, A Critical Examination of Illusionism, the aforementioned proposition—a vital premise upholding the entirety of Illusionism—is baseless. Furthermore, I show that the Illusionist cannot argue for the proposition without coming face-to-face with an inescapable, two-horned dilemma: he must choose between a petitio principii or a non-sequiturial inference.

Unfortunately, Keith Frankish has never acknowledged the existence of my paper, despite the fact that I have sent it to him and reached out to him several times about it—surely he has time to read a brief article if he has enough time to pick apart “low hanging fruit” objections on Twitter….But I digress. He is, without a doubt, a busy man and is likely bombarded with countless messages on a daily basis).

I won’t bother writing out the entirety of my argument (and my elaborate defense of it) here, but I’ll present one of its main points. The Illusionist cannot validly infer (or posit) the existence of “representations of particular determinate (or determinable) sensory-qualities” that not only do not have the particular determinate (or determinable) sensory-qualities they represent, but are also themselves totally devoid of determinate (or determinable) sensory-qualities of any determinable kind, from the fact that we have had many instances of observation wherein we have observed a “representation of a particular sensory-quality” (e.g., a representation of a red sensory-quality) as not having the particular determinate (or determinable) sensory-quality it represents; the reason being that we have always observed objects (“representations” included) as having or consisting of determinate (or determinable) sensory-qualities of one or more determinable kinds. However, “instances of observation wherein we have observed a “representation of a particular sensory-quality” (e.g., a representation of a red sensory-quality) as not having the particular determinate (or determinable) sensory-quality it represents” is the only “empirical evidence” available to the Illusionist (and such evidence cannot be used to support his “foundation stone” without the Illusionist committing several fallacies). 

Thus, Illusionism’s foundation-stone is an arbitrary and unwarranted assumption. Far from being a viable option, the “coherent research programme” of Illusionism has the structural integrity of a castle in the air...

Unfortunately, Keith Frankish—one of the most well-known Illusionists alive today—has never acknowledged the existence of my paper, despite the fact that I have sent it to him and reached out to him about it—surely he has time to read a brief article if he has enough time to pick apart “low hanging fruit” objections on Twitter….But I digress. He is, without a doubt, a busy man and is likely bombarded with countless messages on a daily basis.

To conclude, I can’t help but notice that Illusionists have a bizarre and disquieting “disposition” to portray their opponents as being “bedazzled” and “tricked” by an apparent “inner magic show.” When I read books and essays by Illusionists, the only “theatrical performance” or “slight of hand” that I “seem” to be aware of—nay I “know” I am aware of—is the spectacle unfolding before my eyes.

Reading Notes: August 17th, 2024

“Only a judgment can be true or false….A judgment always has a subject and a predicate. The subject is usually the object judged, and the predicate the judgment of that object. When someone says, “Centaurs have existence in the realm of the imaginative,” they have for their object of judgment, centaurs. They attribute to their object existence in the realm of the imaginative….Judgment has been defined as that which entails both an object of judgment and the judgment of that object. But there is another important element in all judgment. This is purpose or intention. When an individual judges, he judges his object or the object which he purposes to judge. So the object of his judgment is always willed or intended by him to be his object….Judgment is both restrictive and selective in nature. The frame of reference in judgment must be restricted to an intended object….Therefore an individual who judges has as object only what he intends to has as object. He has only to conform to that to which he wants his judgment to conform.” (Skinner, The Logocentric Predicament, 17-18)

“We shall consider in this hypothetical conversation three of the six persons involved, namely, the “real” Thomas, the “real” John, and Thomas as John conceives him to be. The problem is restricted to this: “When John judges Thomas, which Thomas does he judge?” It must be remembered that this analysis is wholly in terms of the common-sense view-point, which has been selected as a starting-point in the introduction to the problem. John is to judge Thomas. But which Thomas? For in terms of common sense, John’s judgment stands alone separated from its intended object. Now if John’s judgment is separated from its object, how can John judge at all? He cannot. At least he cannot judge the “real” Thomas for the “real” Thomas is outside his judging processes. Under these circumstances John cannot know the “real” Thomas. John perceives Thomas through his sensory apparatus. He conceptualizes his sensory data of Thomas. In this way he conceives Thomas. But what he conceives is not the “real” Thomas, but his “ideal” Thomas or “phantom” Thomas. The “real” Thomas is not in his thought at all. There is no connection between Thomas’ thought and John’s thought. Thomas is independent of John. Therefore John is limited to his “phantom” Thomas. He cannot bridge the gap of the common-sense separation. He must be satisfied with just what he thinks about Thomas. And even if Thomas told John something about himself, John would hear, that is, he would perceive through hearing the sounds of Thomas. He would conceptualize these sensory data and conceive Thomas. But the same predicament would hold. From this viewpoint there cannot be an exchange of ideas since all that I can ever know is what I conceive to be the case. As a result John can have only his image or concept of Thomas. He finds himself unable to know the one with whom he is conversing. They are speaking to each other, but at the same time they are total strangers holding only each one’s opinions of the other. Is error possible under such circumstances? Can John in this view be mistaken in his judgment of Thomas? We shall find that he cannot. He cannot err because he cannot judge the “real” Thomas. Whom does he judge? He judges his conception of Thomas which is wholly separated from the “real” Thomas. He judges his conception because he has nothing more than his conception to judge. When he judges, he never errs since he always intends as his object of judgment his conception of that object. He can intend nothing more. And John is not in error if he judges his own conception and intends to judge his own conception….The only possibility of John’s erring in respect to Thomas is if John intended the “real” Thomas. He cannot intend as his object what he does not and cannot in some sense know. He cannot err in his judgment of the “phantom” Thomas. Error is not possible with such a view of reality. And since error is not possible this position is untenable. Common sense affirms the factuality of error but fails in presenting adequate conditions for its existence.” (Skinner, The Logocentric Predicament, 20-21)

Reading Notes: August 16th, 2024

“(I) Ultimate reality is no absolute plurality; it does not consist in a plurality of utterly disconnected units. For we directly experience relations and connections; every one of the supposably discrete, distinct ‘units’ is both comparable with and dependent upon other units: it implies others in being itself distinct, and it is connected with others by virtue of their all existing….(II) But ultimate reality is, furthermore, no mere manifold of units which are both distinct and yet related. For absolute distinctness and relatedness are mutually exclusive predicates. If the units remain entirely distinct, they are then distinct from the relations as well as from each other; in other words, the relations themselves become mere unrelated units. So long as the units are, by hypothesis, distinct, so long the supposed relations fail to relate. But relation is experienced, it is immediately known to exist. Hence, the alternative, entire distinctness, must be abandoned. There results the conception of ultimate reality not as mere including system, but as relater of its parts, not as mere one-of-many, but as unique Individual. And if it be objected that this conclusion, reached as it is by logical analysis and elimination, lacks the confirmation of concrete experience, it may at once be replied that each one of us has in his consciousness of self the example of a unique being which is a one-of-many. For every self is directly known both as particular, single individual (as this one self), and as one-of-many—as the includer of perceiving, thinking, and feeling experiences, and yet as diversified in its constantly varying experiences. In a word, every self is immediately known to be a unique, differentiated one. (III) The conclusion that ultimate reality is an Absolute, not a mere related plurality, combined with the conclusion, already argued, of all personal idealism, pluralistic as well as monistic, that the irreducible nature of the universe is self, gives—as the final outcome of philosophy—the conception of ultimate reality as Absolute Self.” (Calkins, The Persistent Problems of Philosophy, 418-420)

“By ‘temporal’ is meant that which exists at this moment or that. But a moment is precisely that which has both past and future. There is then neither beginning nor end of time; every moment is what it is by virtue of its relations to the irrevocable and to the unattained. Thus, the temporal is the essentially incomplete; and because of this incompleteness, the Absolute cannot be conceived in purely temporal terms. On the other hand, the temporal has reality. Temporal distinctions are objects of actual experience. We live in time….Pluralistic and monistic systems, therefore, share the difficulty of reconciling the rationality of the human consciousness with the contradictoriness of time; and monistic philosophy faces, in addition, the problem whether—and in what sense—the absolute consciousness is temporal.” (Calkins, The Persistent Problems of Philosophy, 440-441)

“In order to accomplish this, we must first take care not to commit ourselves to a search, going back to infinity—that is, in order to discover the best method for finding out the truth, there is no need of another method to discover such method; nor of a third method for discovering the second, and so on to infinity. By such proceedings, we should never arrive at the knowledge of the truth, or, indeed, at any knowledge at all. The matter stands on the same footing as the making of material tools, which might be argued about in a similar way. For, in order to work iron, a hammer is needed, and the hammer cannot be forthcoming unless it has been made; but, in order to make it, there was need of another hammer and other tools, and so on to infinity. We might thus vainly endeavor to prove that men have no power of working iron. But as men at first made use of the instruments supplied by nature to accomplish very easy pieces of workmanship, laboriously and imperfectly, and then, when these were finished, wrought other things more difficult with less labor and greater perfection; and so gradually mounted from the simplest operations to the making of tools, and from the making of tools to the making of more complex tools, and fresh feats of workmanship, till they arrived at making, with small expenditure of labor, the vast number of complicated mechanisms which they now possess. So, in like manner, the intellect, by its native strength, makes for itself intellectual instruments, whereby it acquires strength for performing other intellectual operations, and from these operations gets again fresh instruments, or the power of pushing its investigations further, and thus gradually proceeds till it reaches the summit of wisdom.” (Spinoza, On the Improvement of the Understanding, 10)

“For by ideas I do not mean images such as are formed at the back of the eye, or in the midst of the brain, but the conceptions of thought.” (Spinoza, Ethics, Note to Prop. XLVIII)

“Moreover, the activity of the mind can become reflexive, it can be turned upon itself or its own products; and this “reflection” occurs in two very different ways. (1) In desiring, we know that we are desiring; in knowing, we know that we are knowing. Josiah Royce speaks of this as the “self-representative” power of knowledge, that is, knowledge can reflect on its own processes. (2) The activity of the mind tends also to crystallize into a content which is still wholly within the mind. To think of or intend something is to set in motion the whole apparatus of cognition; the thought refuses to continue merely as a pure intention but strives to become concrete, that is, to fulfill itself; and thus an image or “reflexive content” appears. The image is a deposit of the activity. To know the image is therefore not merely to know that we are knowing; it is to be aware of something the mind creates. Images are the products of minds rather than minds themselves; they arise in the process of mental activity, but they are not the activity, nor are they of the same stuff as non-mental objects.” (Eaton, Symbolism and Truth, 292-293)

“Mind is cognitively continuous with non-mental objects in the same general sense as other things in this world are continuous with one another. And we are not speaking here of the mathematical theory of continuity, but of something found in experience, which M. Bergson describes as “interpenetration” and Mr. Whitehead as the general “togetherness” of objects and events. This continuity is not, we believe, a relation. It is rather the unity or wholeness within which both terms and relations arise. Distinct things singled out as self-identical always mere in the wholes within which they are distinguished, and this union of the parts in the whole is not due to confusion in the perception that distinguishes them, but to the nature of reality. Let us recall what was said previously in connection with relations. A is related to B not because the relation R which unites A and B is related to its terms, for if this were so an infinity of relations would be needed to bring about a unity of the terms. The terms and relation are joined once for all. They form a whole in which the aspects A, B, and R can be distinguished; this is what we mean by saying the relation R holds between A and B. There is no point where the relation ceases to be a relation and becomes a term, or where the terms cease to be terms and become a relation. Motion is an apparent case of such continuity. There is no point at which the moving object ceases to be in one place and passes into another; in fact, the passage is just a continuous process which cannot be completely described in terms of places or points, any more than a relation between terms can be described in terms of elements and a relation. We must have the ultimate concept of the unity of the elements. We must think of the elements as abstracted from this unity, instead of thinking of the unity as added to the elements. We must think of the points and instants, in terms of which we describe the motion, as abstracted from the passage, rather than of the passage as superimposed on the points and instants.” (Eaton, Symbolism and Truth, 293-294)

“The mind and its objects fuse as one segment of a motion fuses with another, as a relation merges with its terms, as any part of a whole or any whole, with another. The mind projects itself into the non-mental and the non-mental into the mind. There is an unbroken flow or process, and throughout a stretch of this process—at the segment of “greatest luminosity”—the cognition of the object comes into being….What sort of unity or continuity is this cognition of a non-mental object? Certainly it is not a spatial continuity. Though the object known may be spatial, the cognition is not in space but of space. These two types of whole—the spatial and the non-spatial—come together in the wider whole of cognition. On the other hand, the continuity of mind and its non-mental objects is both in and of time; the mind as well as the world it cognizes is a changing, temporal unity. In the specious present of knowledge we grasp, in an act which is itself temporal, the immediate past and future of the thing known, so that each whole of cognition—being itself in time—is nevertheless a survey of time/ And yet the object of knowledge has its non-temporal aspect. It is a “what,” a universal as well as across space and belongs intrinsically to no single time or space. This is indeed the greatest paradox of knowledge, that being in time it takes hold of both the temporal and the non-temporal….Finally, the act of knowledge is inclusive of itself. In knowing objects we know the process by which we know, the mind reveals itself through its commerce with its non-mental environment. And beyond all this, knowing has its peculiar tang which is no more subject to description that the sound of a tonic triad or a chord of the seventh. Analysis discerns in knowing, as in the chord of the seventh, a number of phases, but it still remains simply what it is—a unique union of mind and object.” (Eaton, Symbolism and Truth, 295-296)

“Thought being nothing but a secretion of the brain, it is as absurd to call one thought true and another untrue, as it would be to call the secretion of saliva true or false….In short, pure materialism ends in pure absurdity.” (Mead, Supernatural Revelation, 33)

“If thought and all combinations of thought are nothing but the result of a simple natural process, which, being as such under the given circumstances and conditions unavoidable, must result so and not otherwise, then all thoughts, all conceptions, judgments, and conclusions have absolutely equal right; to none of them can be ascribed any superiority to the others.” (Ulrici, Gott und der Mensch, Vol. I, 4)

Reading Notes: August 12th, 2024

 “To be finite is to be some one among others, some one which is not others. One finite ends where the other finite beings; it is bounded from the outside, and can not go beyond itself without becoming something else, and thereby perishing. We have not to dwell on the inherent contradiction of the finite. Its being is to fall wholly within itself; and yet, so far as it is finite, so far is it determined wholly by the outside….What does infinite mean? There are two wrongs views on the subject, which we will take one at a time. (1) Infinite is not-finite, and that means ‘end-less’. What does endless mean? Not the mere negation of end, because a mere negation is nothing at all, and infinite would thus equal 0. The endless is something positive, it means a positive quantity which has no end. Any given number of units is finite; but a series of units, which is produced indefinitely, is infinite….It is however clear that this infinite is a perpetual self-contradiction, and, so far as it is Real, is only finite. Any Real quantity has ends, beyond which it does not go. ‘Increase the quantity’ merely says ‘Put the end further off’; but in saying that, it does say ‘Put the end’. ‘Increase the quantity forever’ means, ‘Have forever a finite quantity, and forever say that it is not finite’. In other words, ‘Remove the end’ does imply, by that very removal and the production of the series, the making of a fresh end; so that we still have a finite quantity. Here, so far as the infinite exists, it is finite; so far as it is told to exist, it is told again to be nothing but finite. (2) Or, secondly, the infinite is not the finite, no longer in the sense of being something else, which is different in quantity. The infinite is not in the world of limited things; it exists in a sphere of its own. The mind (e.g.) is something beside the aggregate of its states. God is something beside the things of this world….But here once more, against its will, infinite comes to mean merely finite. The infinite is a something over against, beside, and outside the finite; and hence is itself also finite, because limited by something else….What then is the true sense of infinite? As before, it is the negation of the finite; it is not-finite. But, unlike both the false infinites, it does not leave the finite as it is. It neither, with (1), says ‘the finite is to be not-finite, nor, with (2), tries to get rid of it by doubling it. It does Really negate the finite, so that the finite disappears, not by having a negative set over against it, but by being taken up into a higher unity, in which becoming an element, it ceases to have its original character, and is both suppressed and preserved. The infinite is thus ‘the unity of the finite and infinite’. The finite was determined from the outside, so that everywhere to characterize and distinguish it was in fact to divide it. Wherever you defined anything you were at once carried beyond to something else and something else, and this because the negative, required for distinction, was an outside other. In the infinite you can distinguish without dividing; for this is a unity holding within itself subordinated factors which are negative of, and so distinguishable from, each other; while at the same time the whole is so present in each, that each has its own being in its opposite, and depends on that relation for its own life. The negative is also its affirmation. Thus the infinite has a distinction, and so a negation, in itself, but is distinct from and negated by nothing but itself. Far from being one something which is not another something, it is a whole in which both one and the other are mere elements. This whole is hence ‘relative’ utterly and through and through, but the relation does not fall outside it; the relatives are moments in which it is the relation of itself to itself, and so is above the relation, and is absolute Reality. The finite is relative to something else; the infinite is self-related. It is this sort of infinite which the mind is. The simplest symbol of it is the circle, the line which returns into itself, not the straight line produced indefinitely.” (Bradley, Ethical Studies, 70-71)

“The Real is self-existent. And we may put this otherwise by saying, The Real is what is individual….It is a mistake to suppose that “The Real is individual” means either that the Real is abstractly simple, or is merely particular. Internal diversity does not exclude individuality, and still less is a thing made self-existent by standing in a relation of exclusion to others.” (Bradley, The Principles of Logic, Vol. I, 44)

“If space and time are continuous, and if all appearance must occupy some time or space—and it is not hard to support both of these theses—we can at once proceed to the conclusion, no mere particular exists. Every phenomenon will exist in more times or spaces than one; and against that diversity will be itself a universal.” (Bradley, The Principles of Logic, Vol. I, 44)

“We naturally think that the Real, at least as we know it, must be present. Unless I come into contact with it directly, I can never be sure of it. Nothing in the end but what I feel can be Real, and I can not feel anything unless it touches me. But nothing again can immediately encounter me save that which is present. If I have it not here and now, I do not have it at all. “The present is Real;” this seems indubitable. And are we to say that the momentary appearance is therefore Real? This indeed would be mistaken. If we take the Real as that which is confined to a single “here” or a single “now” (in this sense making it particular), we shall have questions on our hands we shall fail to dispose of. For, besides the difficulties as to the truth of all universal judgments, we are threatened with the loss of every proposition which extends beyond the single instant. Synthetic judgments must at once be banished if the Real is only the phenomenon of a moment. Nothing either past or future in time, nor any space I do not directly perceive, can be predicated as adjectives of our one “now” and “here.” All such judgments would be false, for they would attribute to the existent qualities which confessedly are non-existent, or would place the Real as one member in a series of utter unrealities.” (Bradley, The Principles of Logic, Vol. I, 50-51)

“But perhaps we feel we may escape this consequence; or at all events feel so sure of our premise that we can not give it up. “The Real is confined to one here or one now.” But supposing this true, are we sure we know what it is we understand by our “now” and “here”? For time and extension seem continuous elements: the here is one space with the other heres round it; and the now flows ceaselessly and passes forever from the present to the past.” (Bradley, The Principles of Logic, Vol. I, 51)

“We may avoid this difficulty, we may isolate the time we call the present, and fix our now as the moment which is, and has neither past, nor future, nor transition in itself. But here we fall into a hopeless dilemma. This moment which we take either has no duration, and in that case it turns out to be no time at all: or, if it has duration, it is a part of time, and is found to have transition in itself. If the now in which the Real appears is purely discrete, then first we may say that, as characterized by exclusion, the phenomenon, if apparent, is not self-subsistent, and so not Real. But apart from that objection, and to return to our dilemma, the now and the here must have some extension. For no part of space or time is a final element. We find that every here is made up of heres, and every now is resolvable into nows. And thus the appearance of an atomic now could not show itself as any one part of time. But, if so, it could never show itself at all. Or, on the other hand, if we say the appearance has duration, then, like all Real time, it has succession in itself, and it would not be the appearance of our single now.” (Bradley, The Principles of Logic, Vol. I, 51-52)

“It is a mistake to suppose that the present is a part of time, indivisible and stationary, and that the here and now can be solid and atomic. In one sense of the word the present is no time. Itself no part of the process, it is a point we take within the flow of change. It is the line that we draw across the stream, to fix in our mind the relations of one successive event to another event. “Now,” in this sense, stands for “simultaneous with:” it signifies not existence but bare position in the series of time. The Reality is not present in the sense of given in one atomic moment.” (Bradley, The Principles of Logic, Vol. I, 52)

“If time consists of discrete parts, it is hard to see how the fact of succession can possibly be explained, unless time be taken between these parts of time. And that would lead to untenable conclusions. But it is the fact of change which shows that time is continuous. The rate of change, the number of events in every part of time, may, so far as we know, be increased indefinitely: and this means that in every part of time more than one event may be taking place. If the parts be discrete, then not only will motion imply that a thing is in several places in one time (and this is a fact), but also (which is absurd) that throughout all these places no time elapses, that they are strictly contemporaneous.” (Bradley, The Principles of Logic, Vol. I, 52)

“What we mean, when we identify presence with Reality, is something different. The Real is that which I come into immediate contact, and the content of any part of time, any section of the continuous flow of change, is present to me if I directly encounter it. What is given in perception, though it change in my hands, is now and here if only I perceive it. And within that perception any aspect or part, which I specially attend to, is specially present, is now and here in another sense than the rest of that content. The present is the filling of that duration in which the Reality appears to me directly: and there can be no part of the succession of events so small or so great, that conceivably it might not appear as present. In passing we may repeat and may trace the connection of those shades of meaning we have found in “presence.” (i) Two events in time are now to one another, if both are given simultaneously in my series. (ii) Since the Real appears in the series of time, the effort to find it both present and existing within that series, creates the fiction of the atomic now. (iii) If the Real can never exist in time, but only appear there, then that part of the series in which it touches me is my present. (iv) And this suggests the reflection that presence is Really the negation of time, and never can properly be given in the series. It is not the time that can ever be present, but only the content.” (Bradley, The Principles of Logic, Vol. I, 52-53)

“We must be satisfied with knowing that the Real, which (we say) appears in perception, does not appear in one single moment. And if we will pause and reflect for a little, we shall see how hardened we are in superstitions. When we ask for Reality, we at once encounter it in space and time. We find opposed to us a continuous element of perceptual change. We begin to observe and to make distinctions, and this element becomes a series of events. And here we are tempted to deceive ourselves grossly. We allow ourselves to talk as if there existed an actual chain of Real events, and as if this chain were somehow moved past us, or we moved along it, and as if, whenever we came to a link, the machinery stopped and we welcomed each new link with our “here” and our “now.” Still we do not believe that the rest of the links, which are not here and now, do all equally exist, and, if so, we can hardly be quite sure of our chain. And the link, if we must call it so, which is now and here, is no solid substance. If we would but observe it, we should see it itself to be a fluid sequence whose parts offer no resistance to division, and which is both now, and itself without end made up of nows.” (Bradley, The Principles of Logic, Vol. I, 53)

“Or we seem to think that we sit in a boat, and are carried down the stream of time, and that on the bank there is a row of houses with numbers on the doors. And we get out of the boat, and knock at the door of number 19, and, re-entering the boat, then suddenly find ourselves opposite 20, and having there done the same, we go on to 21. And, all this while, the firm fixed row of the past and future stretches in a block behind us and before us.” (Bradley, The Principles of Logic, Vol. I, 53-54)

“Let us fancy ourselves in total darkness hung over a stream and looking down on it. The stream has no banks, and its current is covered and filled continuously with floating things. Right under our faces is a bright illuminated spot on the water, which ceaselessly widens and narrows its area, and shows us what passes away on the current. And this spot that is light is our now, our present. We may go still further and anticipate a little. We have not only an illuminated place, and the rest of the stream in total darkness. There is a paler light which, both up and down stream, is shed on what comes before and after our now. And this paler light is the offspring of the present. Behind our heads there is something perhaps which reflects the rays from the lit-up now, and throws them more dimly upon the past and future. Outside this reflection is utter darkness; within it is gradual increase of brightness, until we reach the illumination immediately below us. In this image we shall mark two things, if we are wise. It is possible, in the first place, that the light of the present may come from behind us, and what reflects the light may also bestow it. We can not tell that, but what we know is, that our know is the source of the light that falls on the past and future. Through it alone do we know there exists a stream of floating things, and without its reflection past and future would vanish. And there is another point we must not lose sight of. There is a difference between the brightness of the now, and the paler revelation of past and future. But, despite this difference, we see the stream and what floats in it as one. We overcome the difference. And we do so by seeing the continuity of the element in past present and future. It is because, through the different illuminations, there are points of connection offered by what floats, in other words, a sameness of content, that the stream and its freightage becomes all one thing to us, and we even forget that most of what we see is not self-subsistent but borrowed and adjectival. We shall perceive hereafter that time and space beyond here and now are not strictly existent in the sense in which the present is. They are not given directly but are inferred from the present. And they are so inferred because the now and here, on which the light falls, are the appearance of a Reality which forever transcends them, and, resting upon which, we go beyond them.” (Bradley, The Principles of Logic, Vol. I, 54-55)

“[The] now and here, in which the Real appears, are not confined within simply discrete and resting moments. They are any portion of that continuous content with which we come into direct relation. Examination shows that not only at their edges they dissolve themselves over into there and then, but that, even within their limits as first given, they know no repose. Within the here is both here and there; and in the ceaseless process of change in time you may narrow your scrutiny to the smallest focus, but you will find no rest. The appearance is always a process of disappearing, and the duration of the process which we call our present has no fixed length.” (Bradley, The Principles of Logic, Vol. I, 55)

“We must get rid of the erroneous notion (if we have it) that space and time are “principles of individuation,” in the sense that a temporal or spatial exclusion will confer uniqueness upon any content. It is an illusion to suppose that, by speaking of “events,” we get down to Real and solid particulars, and leave the airy region of universal adjectives. For the question arises, What space and time do we Really mean, and how can we express it so as not to express what is as much something else? It is true that, in the idea of a series of time or complex of space, uniqueness is in one sense involved; for the parts exclude one another reciprocally. But they do not exclude, unless the series is taken as one continuous whole, and the relations between its members are thus fixed by the unity of the series. Apart from this unity, a point on its recurrence could not be distinguished from the point as first given.” (Bradley, The Principles of Logic, Vol. I, 63)

“The Real we divined to be self-existent, substantial, and individual: but, as it appears within a presentation, it is none of these. The content throughout is infected with relativity, and, adjectival itself, the whole of its elements are also adjectival. Though given as fact every part is given as existing by reference to something else. The mere perpetual disappearance in time of the given appearance is itself the negation of its claim to self-existence. And again, if we take it while it appears, its limits, so to speak, are never secured from the inroads of unreality. In space or in time its outside is made fact solely by relation to what is beyond. Living by relation to what it excludes, it transcends its limits to join another element, and invites that element within its own boundaries. But with edges ragged and wavering, that flow outward and inward unstably, it already is lost. It is adjectival on what is beyond itself. Nor within itself has it any stability. There is no solid point of either time or space. Each atom is merely a collection of atoms, and those atoms again are not things but relations of elements that vanish. And when asked what is ultimate, and can stand as an individual, you can answer nothing. The Real cannot be identical with the content that appears in presentation. It forever transcends it, and gives us a title to make search elsewhere….If the Reality is self-existent, self-contained, and complete, it needs, one would think, no great effort of reason to perceive that this character is not to be found in a mere series of phenomena. It is one thing to seek the Reality in that series: it is quite another thing to try to find as the series. A completed series in time or space cannot possibly exist. It is the well-known phantasm of the spurious infinite, a useful fiction, it may be, for certain purposes and at certain levels of thought, but none the less a phantasm which, until it is recognized, stops the way of all true philosophic thought.” (Bradley, The Principles of Logic, Vol. I, 70-71)

“If we mean by phenomena the things we perceive, or the facts or appearances that are given to us, then the whole of England below our horizon (to say nothing at all of America and Asia), and every event that is past or future are not phenomena. They are not perceived facts. They exist in our minds are mere ideas, as the meaning of symbols. A phenomenon, I repeat, that is past or future is a sheer self-contradiction. It is time we thought of giving up our habit of talking about the “series of phenomena,” or “thread of perceptions,” or Heaven knows what else, as though we held these facts in our hands. One thing or the other. Either a phenomenon may be idea, the content of a symbol and not even predicated directly of the present perception, or there is no phenomenon but what I here and now perceive….If a fact or event is what is felt or perceived, then a fact that is past is simple nonsense (cf. Book II. Part II. Chap. I.). Of course, I know, it is easy to say that past events are all Really there, and, being there, are remembered; as I presume the future, being all there, is anticipated. But suppose that there is a series of facts, both past and future, outside our minds, the question remains How can they get in?....Events past and future, and all things not perceived, exist for us only as ideal constructions connected, by an inference through identity of quality, with the Real that appears in present perception.” (Bradley, The Principles of Logic, Vol. I, 73-74)

“[The] continuity of the element of time strictly excludes a mere serial character.” (Bradley, The Principles of Logic, Vol. I, 80)

“We maintain, on the other hand, that analytic judgments of sense are all false. There are more ways than one of saying the thing that is not true. It is not always necessary to go beyond the facts. It is often more than enough to come short of them. And it is precisely this coming short of the fact, and statin a part as if it were the whole, which makes the falseness of the analytic judgment. The fact, which is given us, is the total complex of qualities and relations which appear to sense. But what we assert of this given fact is, and can be, nothing but an ideal content. And it is evident at once that the idea we use can not possibly exhaust the full particulars of what we have before us. A description, we all know, cannot ever reach to a complete account of the manifold shades, and the sensuous wealth of one entire moment of direct presentation. As soon as we judge, we are forced to analyze, and forced to distinguish. We must separate some elements of the given from others. We sunder and divide what appears to us as a sensible whole. It is never more than an arbitrary selection which goes into the judgment. We say “There is a wolf,” or “This tree is green:” but such poor abstractions, such mere bare meanings, are much less than the wolf and the tree which we see; and they fall even more short of the full particulars, the mass of inward and outward setting, from which we separate the wolf and the tree. If the Real as it appears is X = a b c d e f g h, then our judgment is nothing but X = a, or X = a—b. But a—b by itself has never been given, and is not what appears. It was in the fact and we have taken it out. It was of the fact and we have given it independence. We have separated, divided, abridged, dissected, we have mutilated the given….Now I am not urging that the analytic judgment is in no sense true. I am saying that, if you take it as asserting the existence of its content as given fact, your procedure is unwarranted. And I ask, on what principle do you claim the right of selecting what you please from the presented whole and treating that fragment as an actual quality? It certainly does not exist by itself, and how do you know that, when put by itself, it could be a quality of this Reality? The sensible phenomenon is what it is, and is all that it is; and anything less than itself must surely be something else. A fraction of the truth, here as often elsewhere, becomes entire falsehood because it is used to qualify the whole.” (Bradley, The Principles of Logic, Vol. I, 94-97)

“The analytic judgment is not true per se. It cannot stand by itself. Asserting, as it does, of the particular presentation, it must always suppose a further content, which falls outside that fraction it affirms. What it says is true, if true at all, because of something else. The fact it states is Really fact only in relation to the rest of the context, and only because of the rest of that context. It is not true except under that condition. So we have a judgment which is Really conditioned, and which is false if you take it as categorical. To make it categorical and true, you must get the condition inside the judgment. You must take up the given as it Really appears, without omission, unaltered, and unmutilated. And this is impossible. For ideas are not adequate to sensible perception, and, beyond this obstacle, there are further difficulties. The Real, which appears within the given, cannot possibly be confined to it. Within the limit of its outer edges its character gives rise to the infinite process in space and time. Seeking there for the simple, at the end of our search we still are confronted by the composite and relative. And the outer edges themselves are fluent. They pass forever in time and space into that which is outside them. It is true that the actual light we see falls only upon a limited area; but the continuity of the element, the integrity of the context, forbids us to say that this illuminated section by itself is Real. The reference of the content to something other than itself lies deep within its internal nature. It proclaims itself to be adjectival, to be relative to the outside; and we violate its essence if we try to assert it as having existence entirely in its own right. Space and time have been said to be “principles of individuation.” It would be truer to say they are principles of relativity. They extend the Real just as much as they confine it. I do not mean that past and future are actually given, and that they come within the circle of presentation. I mean that, although they cannot be given, the given would be destroyed by their absence. If Real with them, it would not be given; and, given without them, it is forever incomplete and therefore unreal. The presented content is, in short, not compatible with its own presentation. It involves a contradiction, and might at once on that ground be declared to be unreal.” (Bradley, The Principles of Logic, Vol. I, 98-99)

“We saw that you cannot ascribe to the Real one part of what is given in present perception. And now we must go further. Even if you could predicate the whole present content, yet you still would fail unless you asserted also both the past and the future. You cannot assume (or I, at least, do not know your right to assume) that the present exists independent of the past, and that, taking up one fragment of the whole extension, you may treat this part as self-subsistent, as something that owes nothing to its connection with the rest. If your judgment is to be true as well as categorical, you must get the conditions entirely within it. And here the conditions are the whole extent of spaces and times which are required to make the given complete. The difficulty is insuperable. It is not merely that ideas cannot copy facts of sense. It is not merely that our understandings are limited, that we do not know the whole of the series, and that our powers are inadequate to apprehend so large an object. No possible mind could represent to itself the completed series of space and time; since, for that to happen, the infinite process must have come to an end, and be Realized in a finite result. And this cannot be. It is not merely inconceivable psychologically; it is metaphysically impossible. Our analytic judgments are hence all either false or conditioned….We are fastened to a chain, and we wish to know if we are Really secure. What ought we to do? Is it much use to say, “This link we are tied to is certainly solid, and it is fast to the next, which seems very strong and holds firmly to the next: beyond this we cannot see more than a certain moderate distance, but, so far as we know, it all holds together”? The practical man would first of all ask, “Where can I find the last link of my chain? When I know that it is fast, and not hung in the air, it is time enough to inspect the connection.” But the chain is such that every link begets, so soon as we come to it, a new one; and, ascending in our search, at each remove we are still no nearer the last link of all, on which everything depends. The series of phenomena is so infected with relativity, that, while it is itself, it can never be made absolute. Its existence refers itself to what is beyond, and, did it not do so, it would cease to exist. A last fact, a final link, is not merely a thing which we cannot know, but a thing which could not possibly be Real. Our chain by its nature cannot have a support. Its essence excludes a fastening at the end. We do not merely fear that it hangs in the air, but we know it must do so. And when the end is unsupported, all the rest is unsupported. Hence our “conditioned” truth is only “conditional.” It avowedly depends on what is not fact, and it is not categorically true. Not standing by itself, it hangs from a supposition; or perhaps still worse destiny awaits it, it hangs from nothing and falls altogether….Are the presented phenomenon, and series of phenomena, actual Realities? And, we have seen, they are not so. The given in sense, if we could seize it in judgment, would still disappoint us. It is not self-existent and is therefore unreal, and the Reality transcends it, first in the infinite process of phenomena, and then altogether. The Real, which (as we say) appears in perception, is neither a phenomenon nor a series of phenomena.” (Bradley, The Principles of Logic, Vol. I, 100-101)

“The units themselves can only be determined relatively to each other, and there is no sense in asking how big anything is unless we measure it by a presupposed standard.” (Lotze, Logic, Bk. II, 338)

“A circular movement will only appear circular to a spectator, whose standpoint is somewhere in the line drawn through the centre of the circle at right angles to its plane; to an eye situated anywhere outside this axis and this plane it will appear an oval; while if one views it from any point in the plane of the circle but outside its circumference, it will appear as an oscillation in a straight line. The synthesis of the times traversed by the moving point and the loci corresponding to the times will form a separate series for each point of view, and each such series will be regular in its formation, though one of them will have much more value than another as an indication of what Really takes place.” (Lotze, Logic, Bk. II, 339)

“To put it quite simply, a man who never observes a place of public resort but once every seven days and that on a Sunday afternoon, has no right to suppose because it is crowded then, that it is as crowded on a week-day. A man who never looks at the moon but through a chink which only allows him to see it at its full height, cannot guess the path it pursues through the heavens for the rest of its time.” (Lotze, Logic, Bk. II, 343)

“The apprehending consciousness is no resisting surface, curved or plane, smooth or rough, nor would it gain anything by reflecting rays of light no matter in what direction; it is in itself and in its own coordinating unity, which is not a space, and not a surface, but an activity, that it has to combine the separate ideas excited in it into the perception of a spatial arrangement, which perception again is not itself an order in space but only the idea of that order.” (Lotze, Logic, Bk. III, 459)

“It is not permissible to speak of points of space, as if they constituted the positive element of space, since space, on account of its lack of difference, is only the possibility and not the actual positedness of being-outside-of-one-another and of the negative, and is therefore absolutely continuous; the point, the being-for-self, is consequently rather the negation of space, a negation which is posited in space….The point has meaning only in so far as it is spatial, and so external both to itself and to others….Something which was not external in its own self but only to an Other, would be a point….But the Other of the point is just as much a self-externality as the point is, and therefore the two are undistinguished and unseparated. Beyond its limit, as its otherness, space is still in community with itself, and this unity in asunderness is continuity.” (Hegel, The Philosophy of Nature, §254)

“The point is “immediate differenceless self-externality.” (Hegel, The Philosophy of Nature, §256)

“I perceived that it is impossible to find the principles of a true unity in matter alone, or in what is only passive, since everything in it is only a collection or aggregation of parts to infinity. Now, a multitude can derive its reality only from true unities, which have some other origin and are considerably different from [mathematical] points [which are only the extremities and modifications of extension,] which all agree cannot make up the continuum.” (Leibniz, A New System of Nature, 139)

“Thus physical points are indivisible only in appearance; mathematical points are exact, but they are merely modalities.” (Leibniz, A New System of Nature, 142)

“Extension or space and the surfaces, lines, and points one can conceive in it are only relations of order or orders of coexistence, both of the actually existing thing and for the possible thing one can put in its place. Thus they have no bases for composition, any more than does number. A number divided, ½ for example, can be further divided into two fourths or four eighths, etc. to infinity, without our being able to arrive at any smallest fractions or to conceive of the number as a whole that is formed by the coming together of ultimate elements. It is the same for the line, which can be divided just as this number can. Also, properly speaking, the number ½ in the abstract is an entirely simple ratio, in no way formed through the composition of other fractions, though in things numbered two fourths equal one half. And one can say that same thing for the abstract lines. And it is in this way that mathematical points have their place; they are only modalities, that is, extremities.” (Leibniz, Note on Foucher’s Objection, 142)

“I don’t think that substance consists of extension alone, since the concept of extension is incomplete. And I don’t think that extension can be conceived through itself, but I think it is a notion that is resolvable and relative. For it is resolvable into plurality, continuity, and coexistence, that is, the existence of parts at one and the same time. Plurality is also found in number, and continuity is also found in time and motion, but coexistence is really present alone in an extended thing. But from this it appears that a something must always be assumed which is either continued or diffused, as whiteness is in milk, color, ductility and weight are in gold, and resistance is in matter. For continuity taken by itself (for extension is nothing but simultaneous continuity) no more constitutes a complete substance than does multitude or number, where there must be something numbered, repeated, and continued….I think that the unity of an extended thing lies only in its having been abstracted, namely, when we withdraw the mind from the internal motion of the parts, by virtue of which each and every part of matter is, in turn, actually subdivided into different parts, something that plentitude [i.e., the fact that all place is occupied] does not prevent. The parts of matter don’t differ only modally if they are sprinkled with souls and entelechies, things which always exist.” (Leibniz, From the Letters to de Volder, 171-172)

“Indeed, a mathematical line is like the arithmetical unity [i.e., the number 1]: for both, the parts are only possible and completely indefinite. A line is no more an aggregate of the lines into which it can be divided than the number 1 is an aggregate of the fractions into which it can be broken up….If by the mathematical body you mean space, it must be compared with time; if you mean extension, it must be compared to duration. Indeed, space is only the order of existing for possibles that exist simultaneously, just as time is the order of existing for possibles that exist successively. And the state or series of things relates to time just as to physical body relates to space. Body and the series of things add motion to space and to time, that is, they add action and passion and their source [principium]. Indeed, as I have often reminded you (although you seem not to have noticed), extension is an abstraction from the extended thing, and it is no more a substance than number or multitude can be considered to be a substance; it represents only a certain nonsuccessive ([unlike] duration) and simultaneous diffusion or repetition of a certain nature, or what comes to the same thing, it represents certain order among themselves. It is this nature, I say, that is extended or diffused. And so the notion of extension is relative, that is, extension is the extension of something or the duration of something. Furthermore, the nature which is supposed to be diffused, repeated, continued, is that which constitutes the physical body…” (Leibniz, From the Letters to de Volder, 178-179)

“The diffusion that I conceive of in extension…is, I claim, nothing but the continuity [continuatio] in which a part is similar to a whole, as, for example, we conceive of whiteness as diffused in milk, the same direction as diffused everywhere in a straight line, and equal curvedness as diffused in the circumference of a circle.” (Leibniz, From the Letters to de Volder, 183)

Reading Notes: August 11th, 2024

“Another important alternative is the non-reductive, non-eliminative materialism of Donald Davidson (1970, 1973, 1974). Davidson advocates a thesis which asserts that every concrete mental event is identical to some concrete neurological event, but which does not assert (indeed, denies) that there are systematic bridge laws linking mental event-types, or properties, with neurological event-types. He calls this view anomalous monism; it is a form of monism because it posits psychophysical identities, and it is “anomalous” because it rejects reductive bridge laws (or reductive type-type identities).” (Horgan and Woodward, Folk Psychology is Here to Stay, 204)

“Davidson’s metaphysical account of mind is a non-reductive form of physicalism which includes a token identity theory. Every mental event just is a physical event under a different description. But there is no systematic connection between types of mental event and types of physical event. Because it rejects the claim that the mental can exist independently of physical stuff, Davidson’s account is a form of physicalism or monism. It is committed to an identity theory because mental and physical classifications classify the same entities. But it is non-reductive and anomalous because it denies that mental and physical types can be matched.” (Thornton, Wittgenstein and Davidson on Content, 151)

“Because our awareness cannot be an awareness of itself, there must always be ultimate awareness which is not itself an object of awareness. In Materialist terms, although the brain may contain self-scanners which scan the rest of the brain, and scanners which in turn scan the self-scanners, and so on as far as we please, we must come in the end to unscanned scanners.” (Armstrong, A Materialist Theory of Mind, 112)

Materialism and the “First Breath” of Mentality

According to Materialism, there was, at some point in time, a first-ever mental event. This event was preceded in time solely by non-mental events. How, then, does the Materialist go on to explain the “first breath” of mentality? He invokes an alluring word: “causality.” A reader sympathetic to the Materialist’s case might protest against such a brief statement of his position, so it would only be fair to let the Materialist interject and present his view in his own words:

Modern Materialism holds that mental events are nothing “over and above” physical events; mentality is but a delicate, rare, and ephemeral form of physicality. Old Materialism made an error that Modern Materialism has since corrected; it blundered by declaring a priori that (i) all physical events are non-mental in nature and that (ii) all mental events are non-physical in nature. Despite this categorial difference between mental events (i.e., non-physical events) and physical events (i.e., non-mental events), Old Materialism went on to assert that every mental event located in the series of past, present, and future mental events is the causally-generated “effect,” or the epiphenomenal “by-product,” of a corresponding non-mental event located in the series of past, present, and future non-mental events. Thus, each mental event is causally dependent upon a particular non-mental event located in the total series of non-mental events. Although the total series of mental events was not itself conceived by these Old Materialists as being a “segment” of the total series of non-mental events, it was nevertheless made subordinate to it. While the thread of mental events lacked self-sufficiency, the chain of physical events (i.e., the totality of past, present, and future non-mental events) constituted an independent series—resting on nothing other than itself. The Old Materialists recognized the difficulties in their position (e.g., the relationship between the two series of events), and failed to build a bridge that could intelligibly unite “cause” and “effect.” Modern Materialism, by contrast, rejects the Old Materialist’s dogmatism and refuses to declare a priori that (i) all physical events are non-mental in nature, and that (ii) all mental events are non-physical in nature. Instead of maintaining that the thread of mental events is populated by causally-generated “effects” or epiphenomenal “by-products” of an “independent” series that is exhausted by non-mental events, Modern Materialism holds that when a mental event occurs, this occurrence is identical to a particular physical event located in the totality of physical events. Thus, mental events are no longer viewed as “residual excrescences” that supervene upon the “shock of atoms” in the physical order; they are no longer granted a unique series of their own (e.g., a non-physical series populated by events caused by antecedent or contemporaneous events in a subvening series of physical events). On the contrary, mental events are physical events. This is Modern Materialism. Although Modern Materialism holds that there was, at some point in time, a first-ever mental event, this event was itself a physical event—there being no categorial difference severing said event from any non-mental event that happened to be simultaneous with, or precedent to it, in time. Now, like any other physical event, the first-ever mental event would have been the effect of a preceding physical event, and this prior physical event would have been a non-mental event—but Modern Materialism assures us that there are no difficulties inherent in such a transition. By assimilating mental events into the physical order by way of “identity,” the Modern Materialist has advanced further than any of his predecessors: he has taken a step forward towards explaining the “first breath” of mentality.

Let’s examine the Materialist’s account in detail. The Materialist postulates two temporally-distinct events: (i) a definite, first-ever mental event, M, and (ii) a definite, non-mental event, Pn, that preceded M in time. How, then, are we to conceive the time-series of which these two events, Pn and M, are  occupants? Let’s offer a brief sketch the nature of the time-series by specifying some of its properties:

“A series is continuous when any term divides the whole series unambiguously into two mutually exclusive parts which between them comprise all the terms of the series, and when every term which so divides the series is itself a term of that series. From this second condition it obviously follows that a number of intermediate terms can always be inserted between any two terms whatever of a continuous series; no term of the series has a next term….The whole series of real numbers us continuous [because] every member of the number-series divides it into two classes, so that every number of one is less than every number of the other, and every number which thus divides the series is itself a term of the number-series....From the continuity of the series of real numbers it follows that any other series which corresponds point for point with the terms of the number series will be continuous. Now one such series is that of the successive parts of time. Every moment of time divides the whole series of moments into two mutually exclusive classes, the moments before itself and the moments which are not before itself. And whatever thus divides the time-series is itself a moment in that series.” (Taylor, Elements of Metaphysics, 171-172) 

Thus, it follows from time’s continuity that no two instants in the time-series ever “touch”.¹ When this fact and the Materialist’s proposed connection between Pn and M are brought into focus, we find that Pn and M cannot share an extremital boundary. In other words, the last instant of Pn cannot be simultaneous with the first instant of M. Indeed, if the last instant of Pn was simultaneous with the first instant of M, then we would have a contradiction on our hands: there would be a moment in time when there was mentality present in a world that, ex hypothesi, was exhausted by non-mentality. In light of this, we must ask the Materialist several questions:

Question (i): Was Pn—rather than any preceding non-mental event—the “cause” of M?

The Materialist’s theory requires that he answer question (i) in the affirmative. And so, in response to question (i), the Materialist declares Pn—rather than any preceding non-mental event—to be the “cause” of M.

Question (ii): What was it about Pn that made this particular non-mental event—rather than any preceding non-mental event—the “cause” of M? 

On pain of inconsistency, the Materialist must respond to question (ii) by asserting that Pn possessed certain “special properties” (i.e., a set of characteristics absent from all prior non-mental events), and that Pn’s possession of these “special properties” made Pn—rather than any preceding non-mental event—the “cause” of M.

Question (iii): What were the “special properties” present in Pn and absent from all preceding non-mental events, that made Pn–rather than any preceding non-mental event—the “cause” of M?

In reply to question (iii), the Materialist will likely posit a bunch of features that allegedly capture the essence or identity of these “special properties.” Let’s symbolize the identity of these “special properties” present in Pn—but absent from all preceding non-mental events—as C.

At first glance, all seems fine and well; however, there is a puzzle lurking beneath the surface: a puzzle involving (i) the continuous nature of the time-series, (ii) the Materialist’s identification of Pn—rather than any of the other non-mental events which preceded it—as being the possessor of the aforementioned “special properties,” and (iii) the Materialist’s identification of what these “special properties” actually are. Let’s explore this latent puzzle in the Materialist’s theory.

As we have noted above, the final instant of Pn cannot be simultaneous with the first instant of M—on pain of contradiction. The first instant of mentality in the world must be “later than” any instant during which the Materialist’s world was “exhaustively non-mental.” However, since the continuity of time implies that between any two instants in the time-series there is an intermediate instant, it follows that between Pn and M (or, rather, between the last instant of Pn and the first instant of M) there was another event, X, distinct from both Pn and M and separating the two events. This prompts us to ask the Materialist more questions:

Question (iv): Is X a non-mental event or a mental event?

The Materialist must answer question (iv) by declaring X to be a non-mental event, Pn+1. For consider, if the Materialist asserted X to be a mental event, then he would have fallen into inconsistency; indeed, he would have been mistaken about M being the first-ever mental event because X would have preceded M in time. 

However, if the Materialist answers question (iv) by declaring X to be a non-mental event, Pn+1, then he contradicts his answer to question (i); in other words, since Pn+1 is later than Pn in time, it would not be true that Pn was the “cause” of M. And so, the Materialist must now revise his answer to question (i) and state that Pn+1—rather than any preceding non-mental event (e.g., Pn)—was the “cause” of M.

Question (v): What was it about Pn+1 that made this particular non-mental event—rather than any preceding non-mental event (e.g., Pn)—the “cause” of M?

On pain of inconsistency, the Materialist must answer question (v) by asserting that Pn+1 possessed certain “special properties” (i.e., a set of characteristics absent from all prior non-mental events), and that Pn+1’s possession of these “special properties” made Pn+1—rather than any preceding non-mental event (e.g., Pn)—the “cause” of M.

Question (vi): What were the “special properties” present in Pn+1 and absent from all preceding non-mental events, that made Pn+1—rather than any preceding non-mental event—the “cause” of M?

The Materialist is forced by his own hand to answer question (vi) by positing a bunch of features that allegedly capture the essence or identity of the “special properties” present in Pn+1 (i.e., features present in Pn+1 but absent from all preceding non-mental events) that made Pn+1—rather than any preceding non-mental event (e.g., Pn)—the “cause” of M. Now, the Materialist cannot, on pain of contradiction, supply us with the same list of “special properties” that he provided in his answer to question (iii). If, in response to question (vi), the Materialist simply regurgitated his answer to question (iii), then, ex hypothesi, the “special properties” of Pn+1 would have been present in an earlier non-mental event (i.e., Pn)—thereby contradicting the Materialist’s answer to question (v). Moreover, the Materialist cannot simply provide his answer to question (iii) in response to question (vi) because he himself has admitted, by implication, that the properties of Pn were not of such a nature as to make Pn the cause of M. Let’s symbolize the Materialist’s revision of these “special properties” as C’.

However, another problem arises. In the same way the last instant of Pn had to be earlier in the time-series than the first instant of M, so too must the last instant of Pn+1 be earlier in the time-series than the first instant of M. If this were not so, and the last instant of Pn+1 was simultaneous with the first instant of M, then there would be a moment in time when there was mentality present in a world that, ex hypothesi, was exhausted by non-mentality—and this, of course, is a contradiction. And, as we have seen, since the continuity of time implies that between any two instants in the time-series there is an intermediate instant, it follows that between Pn+1 and M (or, rather, between the last instant of Pn+1 and the first instant of M) there was another event, X’, distinct from both Pn+1 and M and separating the two events. This prompts us to ask the Materialist more questions:

Question (vii): Is X’ a non-mental event or a mental event?

In answer to question (vii), the Materialist must, of course, respond by declaring this particular event, X’, to be a non-mental event, Pn+2. If the Materialist answered by declaring X’ to be a mental event, then he would have fallen into inconsistency; indeed, he would have been mistaken about M being the first-ever mental event since, ex hypothesi, X’ would have preceded M in time. 

The Materialist must answer question (vii) by declaring X’ to be a non-mental event, Pn+2. For consider, if the Materialist asserted X’ to be a mental event, then he would have fallen into inconsistency; indeed, he would have been mistaken about M being the first-ever mental event because X’ would have preceded M in time. However, by declaring X’  to be a non-mental event, Pn+2, the Materialist contradicts his “revised” answer to question (i)—(i.e., that Pn+1 rather than any preceding non-mental event (e.g., Pn) was the “cause” of M). As a result, the Materialist must “revise” his already “revised” answer to question (i) and declare Pn+2—rather than any preceding non-mental event (e.g., Pn or Pn+1)—to be the “cause” of M. In doing so, the Materialist must also revise his answer to question (v) and question (vi). He must assert that Pn+2 possessed certain “special properties” (i.e., a set of characteristics absent from all prior non-mental events) and that Pn+2’s possession of these “special properties” made Pn+2—rather than any preceding non-mental event (e.g., Pn or Pn+1)—the “cause” of M. However, in doing so, the Materialist must specify these “special properties” of Pn+2. Just like before, the Materialist must list a set of features that allegedly capture the essence or identity of the “special properties” present in Pn+2 (i.e., features present in Pn+2 but absent from all preceding non-mental events) that made Pn+2—rather than any preceding non-mental event (e.g., Pn or Pn+1)—the “cause” of M. However, the Materialist cannot, on pain of contradiction, supply us with the same list of “special properties” that he provided in his answer to question (vi). If the Materialist did so, then the “special properties” of Pn+2 would have been present in an earlier non-mental event (i.e., Pn+1); however, he himself has admitted, by implication, that the properties of Pn+1 were not of such a nature as to make Pn+1 the cause of M.  Ergo, the Materialist must supply us with a new set of properties that were allegedly present in Pn+2, and made Pn+2—rather than any preceding non-mental event—the “cause” of M. Let’s symbolize the Materialist’s revision of these “special properties” as C’’.

However, the problem has only been aggravated. As we’ve seen before, the continuity of time implies that between any two instants in the time-series there is an intermediate instant; ergo, it follows that between Pn+2 and M (or, rather, between the last instant of Pn+2 and the first instant of M) there was another event, X’’, distinct from both Pn+2 and M and separating the two events. This prompts us to ask the Materialist another question:

Question (viii): Is X’’ a non-mental event or a mental event?

The Materialist must answer question (viii) by declaring this particular event, X’’, to be a non-mental event, Pn+3. And we know where this will lead us. The Materialist is trapped in a vicious regress; for, inconsistencies in the Materialist’s responses require that he continually revise his answers ad infinitum. He is unable to consistently identify the non-mental event that allegedly gave birth to the first-ever mental event, and he is unable to consistently specify the identity of the alleged “special properties” that would have made this non-mental event—rather than any preceding non-mental event—the cause of the first-ever mental event.

With every step the Materialist takes towards his first-ever mental event, he is forced to take one step back—he is forever barred from receiving his final reward. The Materialist fails to harmonize the “first breath” of mentality within an asphyxiatingly barren, non-mental world.

“However far we pursue the course of the sense-excitation through the nerve, in however many ways we suppose its form changed and converted into ever finer and more delicate movements, we can never prove that it is in the nature of any movement so produced to cease as movement of its own accord, and to reappear as a bright color, as a tone, as a sweet taste. The chasm is never bridged over between the last state of the material elements within our reach and the first rise of the sensation; and scarce anyone will cherish the vain hope that at a higher stage of development science will find a mysterious bridge in a case where it is the impossibility of any sure crossing-over that forces itself on us with the most evident distinctness.” (Lotze, Mikrokosmus, Vol. I, 148)

Footnotes:

^[1] “For it follows from the structure of the time-series (I) that there are an indefinite number of terms of the series between any two members, between which there is a finite interval, and (II) that there is also an indefinite number of terms before or after any given member of the series. Like the series of real numbers, the time-series, because it satisfies the definition of a continuous infinite series, can have neither a first nor a last term, nor can any member of it have a next term. Applying this to the case of Causation, we may reason as follows: The same reasons which lead us to demand a cause A for any event B, and to find that cause in an assemblage of antecedent events, require that A should be similarly determined by another assemblage of antecedent events, and that this cause of A should itself have its own antecedent cause, and so on indefinitely. Thus, the causal principle, logically applied, never yields an intelligible explanation of any event Instead of exhibiting the transition A—B as the logical expression of a coherent principle, it refers us for the explanation of this transition to a previous instance of the same kind of transition, and then to another, and so forth without end. But it is impossible that what is not intelligible in one instance should become intelligible by the mere multiplication of similar unintelligibilities. (II) Similarly, if we look within the transition A—B. This transition, being continuous, must have its intermediate stages. A becomes B because it has already become C, and the transition A—C—B is again “explained” by showing that A became D which became C which became E which became B. And each of these stages, A—D, D—C, C—E, E—B can be once more submitted to the same sort of analysis. But in all this interpolation of immediate stages there is nothing to show the nature of the common principle in virtue of which the stages form a single process. We are, in fact, trying to do what we try to do wherever we establish a relation between terms, to answer a question by repeating it.” (Taylor, Elements of Metaphysics, 177-178)