A Question Concerning Bernard Lonergan’s “Questions for Intelligence” and “Questions for Reflection”

According to Bernard Lonergan, “questions fall into two main classes. There are “questions for reflection,” and they may be met by answering ‘Yes’ or ‘No’. There are “questions for intelligence,” and they may not be met by answering ‘Yes’ or ‘No’.” (Lonergan, Insight, 271-272) A “question for intelligence” asks ‘What?’, ‘Why?’, ‘How?’, and ‘What for?’. A “question for reflection” asks “whether our answers to the previous type of question are true or false, certain or only probable.” (Lonergan, Reality, Myth, Symbol, 1) With this distinction in mind, we can proceed by asking whether the following question is itself a “question for reflection” or a “question for intelligence”:

“Is the answer to this question, ‘No’?”

The above question is a ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ question, and so it appears to be a “question for reflection” and not a “question for intelligence.” Indeed, as Lonergan says, it is incoherent to answer a “question for intelligence” with a mere ‘Yes’ or ‘No’. By contrast, “questions for reflection” are those questions which are met by answering ‘Yes’ or ‘No’. Indeed, “questions for reflection” can only be answered with ‘Yes’ or ‘No’; they involve phrases like, “Is it so?” and “Is it probably so?”. However, if we declare the question, “Is the answer to this question, ‘No’?” to be a “question for reflection,” we find that it cannot be met by answering ‘Yes’ or ‘No’—on pain of contradiction—and this contradicts our assertion that such a question is a “question for reflection.” We can illustrate this by examining the question in detail: 

“Is the answer to this question, ‘No’?”

If the answer to the question is ‘Yes’, then the answer to the question is ‘No’. But if the answer to the question is ‘No’, then the answer to the question is ‘Yes’. Since the question, “Is the answer to this question, ‘No’?”, cannot be met by ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ without contradiction, it follows that it is not a “question for reflection.” If it is objected that a question cannot refer to itself, we can reply that there are many questions that refer to themselves and are perfectly meaningful. Take, for example, the following question.

“Is the answer to this question, ‘Yes’?”

The above question is a “question for reflection” that not only references itself, but also can be answered without contradiction—it can be met by a simple ‘Yes’. We can also illustrate the same paradox that we outlined above by invoking two distinct questions rather than just one:

“Is the answer to the following question, ‘No’?”

“Is the answer to the preceding question, ‘Yes’?”

Let’s label the top question with the letter, A, and let’s label the bottom question with the letter, B. On the one hand, if the answer to A is ‘Yes’, then the answer to B must be ‘No’; however, if the answer to B is ‘No’, then the answer to A must be ‘No’—and this contradicts the original answer to A as being ‘Yes’. On the other hand, if the answer to A is ‘No’, then the answer to B must be ‘Yes’; however, if the answer to B is ‘Yes’, then the answer to A must be ‘Yes’—and this contradicts the original answer to A as being ‘No’. If it is objected that A and B are not “questions for reflection” at all since each has its meaning only in relation to the other, we can provide an instance of two more questions: 

“Is the answer to the following question, ‘Yes?”

“Is the answer to the preceding question, ‘Yes’?”

The above questions have their respective meanings only in relation to the other and can be answered without contradiction—both can be met by a simple ‘Yes’.

Fragmentary Notes §46—§47

§46

Objects “appear” and manifest themselves perspectivally; however, an Object’s various “appearance-patterns” do not themselves “appear” or manifest themselves perspectivally, rather they are the “appearings” of the Object. Fleeting and transitory, an “appearance-pattern” is ideal—it is essentially incomplete and fragmentary. It passes beyond itself and strives for completion and stability in what lies beyond itself.

§47

In referring to myself as “I”, I consciously determine myself as a being of which I am conscious; I posit myself as knowing, and knowing myself as such—thus, I establish myself as an identity of Subject and Object. As Object, I am enveloped within my own knowledge; as Subject, I am the enveloping.

My Adaptation of G.F. Stout’s Argument for Idealism

In 1919 and 1921, the British philosopher and psychologist, G.F. Stout, delivered the prestigious Gifford Lectures at the University of Edinburgh. The audience in attendance, still weary from the chaos and destruction of The Great War, would have found some relief in Stout’s Idealistic Weltanschauung. In 1931, the first-half of Stout’s Gifford Lectures was published under the title, Mind & Matter; and, in 1952, eight long and eventful years after Stout’s passing, the second-half of his Gifford Lectures, entitled God & Nature, was also immortalized in print. Unfortunately, in the 71 years since its publication, God & Nature has received little more than a few passing glances and a handful of cursory reviews. This neglect, however, is understandable. The British and American philosophical landscape was in a bad way in 1952; and, in the many decades since, there have not been many signs of genuine improvement. Anglophone philosophy has been suffering from the pangs of ahistoricity and rootlessness—it drifts, like a lost continent, deeper and deeper into the turbid, briny waters of an amnestic sea—making terra firma few and far between.

In the following article, I will be diving into what I take to be the most suggestive and original argument for Idealism found in God & Nature—an argument that has taken me several years to fully grasp, decipher, and reconstruct. The overall argument is long and drawn out—spanning the entirety of Chapters XVII and XVIII. Rather than tackling the entire chapter as a whole, I will be focusing on Stout’s abbreviated version of the argument:

“When a finite individual comes to know what he did not know before, what he comes to know is not altered in any of the characters or relations which belongs to it as unknown. If any of these characters or relations were transformed in the process, he could not be said to know what he previously did not know, but something else instead. It follows that if knowledge does not pre-exist, there is no possible change or transformation of what does pre-exist by which it can become known. No modification in the qualities of pre-existing beings in their relations or interactions, or the forms of unity in which they are combined will give the required result. In a universe of absolutely unknown being, nothing could change into a known being. It follows that since there are knowing minds now, there must always have been knowing minds, or at least one knowing mind.” (Stout, God & Nature, 285)

When I first read the above passage, I was at an immediate loss. Stout’s conclusion, “It follows that since there are knowing minds now, there must always have been knowing minds, or at least one knowing mind,” seemed to me to be a non sequitur. Indeed, back in 1953, a reviewer of God & Nature found Stout’s argument to be just as opaque:

“The last sections of the book…argue that the unity of the mind implies the unity of the universe. This is argued first…in connexion with cognition. The unity of the mind in knowing presupposes the systematic unity of the universe known. This Kantian argument is combined…with the non-Kantian view that the knowing mind does not determine the structure of what is known. The argument is that ignorance is always partial. What we do not know we always to some extent do know as connected with what we know already…..Knowing and being then are essentially and inseparably united aspects of the whole universe. [Stout is here, I think, converting the proposition, which he has so far proved, that the unity of the mind implies the unity of the universe, and suggesting that the unity of the universe implies a single universal mind. But this conversion is undefended.] It follows that there must always have been knowing minds or mind.”  (Mabbot, Review of G.F. Stout’s God and Nature, 533-534)

Now, I think Mabbot seriously misunderstands and depreciates Stout’s argument. Surely it would be uncharitable to suppose that Stout’s reasoning amounts to nothing more than a fallacious jump from the proposition that “The unity of the mind implies the unity of the universe,” to the conclusion that “There must always have been knowing minds or mind.” Indeed, if Stout committed such a blunder, then, we may employ the following words of C.D. Broad: 

“Charity bids us avert our eyes from the pitiable spectacle of a great philosopher using an argument which would disgrace a child or a savage.” (Broad, Examination of McTaggart’s Philosophy (Vol. I), 85)

Thankfully, I am not alone in advocating a more sympathetic reading of Stout’s argument. In J.N. Wright’s review of God & Nature, Write briefly summarizes what he takes to be the gist of Stout’s argument, and he goes on to stress the significance of Stout’s Lectures as a whole:

“Chapters XVII-XX [of God & Nature] deal with the nature of mind and the light that this throws on the nature of knowledge and the universe. Its argument is that mind knows (inadequately), explores, and desires. It is a unity with a correlate, the Unity of the Universe—imperfectly known and an object of desire. There is no cognitive act; knowing is a logical precondition of all subjective acts or states: nor is there a pure Ego; the mind has the “unity of a complex”. Its object is “formal” being which can become “objective being”. He argues that this is impossible without positing either that there were always finite minds or a Universal Mind (p. 285) and he holds that the first entails the second, but as the correlate of mind is the unity of the object, mind is not an accidental feature in the Universe and “Knowing and being are inseparably united as alternate and co-essential aspects of the Universe as a Whole”. He thus calls himself an Idealist, but sharply distinguished from those Idealists who argue that mind is creative. I can only comment that if we are going to write of mind and knowledge, will and desire, and not substitute for it writing about noises and scribbling, much of Stout’s analysis must be taken seriously and the standard of philosophical writing in the Chapters XVII and XIX seems to me to be very high indeed….But how to sum up the book? First let me say that through the whole topic of the two volumes of Gifford Lectures, Stout moves with the firmness of a master over the entire field. He is at ease in the immense complexity and richness of European thought, with all its subtlety, variety, and fecundity. He uses the great mass of European thinkers and turns them into a system of his own, with imagination, skill, and restraint. He writes lucidly, with dignity and with leisurely grace. Philosophy has altered since 1920 in its theme and method. Natural Theology is unfashionable; some say nonsensical. A review is not a commentary and many of Stout’s tenets stand in need of detailed comment: but I believe that on some points most philosophers would find some enlightenment and that very few philosophers could have undertaken this theme with so much success. As to Natural Theology, individual philosophers may choose to do what they will. Human nature being what it is, it is preposterous to assume its demise.” (Wright, G.F. Stout, 80-81)

The following argument for Idealism is my humble attempt at streamlining Stout’s line of reasoning. I hope that my adaptation does justice to the insight and vision of the original.

P1) If an unknown thing becomes known to one or more knowing minds, then the unknown thing could not have undergone changes in any of its qualities or relations in becoming known. 

P2) If an unknown thing could not have undergone changes in any of its qualities or relations in becoming known, then an unknown thing’s becoming known cannot be the result of changes in any of the qualities or relations which belonged to the thing as unknown.

P3) If an unknown thing’s becoming known cannot be the result of changes in any of the qualities or relations which belonged to the thing as unknown, then no changes in any of the qualities or relations of an unknown thing could result in the unknown thing’s becoming known.

P4) If no changes in any of the qualities or relations of an unknown thing could result in the unknown thing’s becoming known, then, if there had been a time in our universe when it consisted solely of unknown beings, no changes in any of the qualities or relations of those unknown beings could result in any of them becoming a known being.

P5) If there had been a time in our universe when it consisted solely of unknown beings, no changes in any of the qualities or relations of those unknown beings could result in any of them becoming a known being, then if there are currently knowing minds in our universe, there must have always been one or more knowing minds in our universe.

P6) An unknown thing becomes known to one or more knowing minds.

C1) Therefore, if there are currently one or more knowing minds in our universe, there must have always been one or more knowing minds in our universe. [From P1—P6]

P7) There are currently one or more knowing minds in our universe.

C2) Therefore, there must have always been one or more knowing minds in our universe. [From C1 and P7]

Edmund Hollands’ “Neo-Realism and Idealism” (1907)

The following hand-written notes outline Edmund H. Hollands’ “Neo-Realism and Idealism.” The article was delivered as an address to the American Philosophical Association on December 27th, 1907 at Cornell University. Hollands was an Objective Idealist who gallantly defended Idealism from the attacks of the British and American Neo-Realists. 

A Brief Outline of Fitch’s Paradox of Knowability

P1) If (i) all truths are knowable, and (ii) there exists an unknown truth, X, then “X & X is unknown” is a truth.

P2) If “X & X is unknown” is a truth, then, ex hypothesi, it is possible to know that “X & X is unknown.”

C1) Therefore, if (i) all truths are knowable, and (ii) there exists an unknown truth X, then it is possible to know that “X & X is unknown.” [From P1 and P2]

P3) It is not possible to know that “X & X is unknown”—on pain of contradiction.

C2) Therefore, if (i) all truths are knowable, then it is not the case that (ii) there exists an unknown truth—on pain of contradiction. [From C1 and P3]

Defense of P3

P1) If it is possible to know that “X & X is unknown,” then it is possible to know that “X” when it is known that “X is unknown.”

P2) If it is known that “X is unknown”, then “X is unknown” is true.

P3) If “X is unknown” is true, then it is the case that “X” is unknown.

P4) If it is the case that “X” is unknown, then it is not the case that it is known that “X”.

C1) Therefore, if it is possible to know that “X & X is unknown,” then it is possible to know that “X” when it is not the case that it is known that “X”. [From P1—P4]

P5) It is not possible to know that “X” when it is not the case that it is known that “X”.

C2) Therefore, it not is possible to know that “X & X is unknown.” [From C1 and P5]

My Adaptation of Nick Thomas-Brown’s Argument for Idealism

P1) If, at a given time, a true proposition about every Object, at all times, is known relative to one or more Subjects, then every Object, at all times, is of such a nature as to be knowable relative to one or more Subjects, at a given time.

P2) If every Object, at all times, is of such a nature as to be knowable relative to one or more Subjects, at a given time, then no Object that exists, has existed, or will exist, is of such a nature as to be unknowable relative to one or more Subjects, at all times.

“Let us call something, X, “relatively” unknown when some but not all people fail to know propositional truths about X. Furthermore, we will call X “absolutely” unknown if, and only if, nobody knows any propositional truths concerning X. Now, it is clear that relative unknowns exist. Most people know nothing about the Cynic philosopher Hipparchia, but those who study ancient Greek philosophy surely know of her. Thus, Hipparchia is unknown relative to certain people at certain times. Suppose someone, A, does not know about Hipparchia at a time T. Given this, Hipparchia is unknown relative to A at T. It would, then, be a contradiction for A to know of Hipparchia at T. Hence, once it is admitted that Hipparchia is not known by A at T, it follows that she cannot be known by A at T. So, we can reasonably support the following epistemic theorem: whatever is unknown relative to someone at a certain time, is unknowable relative to her at that time. But, suppose that instead of being relatively unknown, Hipparchia is absolutely unknown. In other words, let us consider that Hipparchia is not known by anyone at any time. We might observe that this can be restated as the following: Hipparchia is unknown relative to any person at any given time. When combined with our discovered theorem, we can infer from this that Hipparchia is unknowable relative to any person at any time. Thus, we have reached a second epistemic theorem: whatever is absolutely unknown, is unknowable by anyone whatsoever.” (Thomas-Brown, Idealism and the Known Unknown, 3) 

C1) Therefore, if at a given time, a true proposition about every Object, at all times, is known relative to one or more Subjects, then no Object that exists, has existed, or will exist, is of such a nature as to be unknowable relative to one or more Subjects, at all times. [From P1 and P2]

P3) If no Object that exists, has existed, or will exist, is of such a nature as to be unknowable relative to one or more Subjects, at all times, then every Object that exists, has existed, or will exist, depends upon its being known relative to one or more Subjects, at a given time.

“Granted our two theorems, we can move to demonstrate that nothing absolutely unknown ever exists. We know as certainly as we can that any given entity is either square or not square, for this is an instance of the law of excluded middle. In grasping this universal truth, we know a truth concerning all things past, present, or future. If an absolute unknown existed, we would have some knowledge of it by way of such universal truths. But, it is a contradiction for an absolute unknown to be known by someone or other. Hence, if we are to have knowledge of universal truths at any time, there can never exist absolute unknowns. Yet, we do, of course, possess such knowledge; and, thus, no absolute unknowns exist, past, present, or future. Whatever exists or comes to exist is, therefore, known by someone or other at some time or other. In other words, to be is to be known and existence implies knowledge. Once we understand that something’s existence entails its being known, we can further see that its existence depends on its being known. However, the presence of knowledge presupposes that of a knower. Hence, the existence of a given object depends on there being an intelligent self or selves.” (Thomas-Brown, Idealism and the Known Unknown, 3-4)

C2) Therefore, if at a given time, a true proposition about every Object, at all times, is known relative to one or more Subjects, then every Object that exists, has existed, or will exist, depends upon its being known relative to one or more Subjects, at a given time. [From C1 and P3]

P4) At a given time, a true proposition about every Object, at all times, is known relative to one or more Subjects.

C3) Therefore, every Object that exists, has existed, or will exist, depends upon its being known relative to one or more Subjects, at a given time. [From C2 and P4]

All credit for the original version of this particular argument goes to Nick Thomas-Brown. Thomas-Brown published the argument in a 2019 paper titled “Idealism and the Known Unknown.”