Summary
The Problems of Philosophy is an introduction to the discipline of philosophy,
written during a Cambridge
lectureship that Russell held in 1912. In it, Russell asks the fundamental
question, “Is there any knowledge in the world which is so certain that no
reasonable man could doubt it?” Russell sketches out the metaphysical and
epistemological views he held at the time, views that would develop and change
over the rest of his career.
Russell begins by exploring the twin concepts of appearance
and reality. Empiricists like Russell believe that all knowledge is ultimately
derived from our sensory perceptions of the world around us. Individual
perception, however, is easily affected and prone to error. If three people—one
who’s had three martinis, one with a heavy fever, and one who’s
color-blind—look at the same table, chances are they’ll each see the same
object somewhat differently. Submerge the same table underwater, or set it
behind a wavy pane of glass, and once again the table will look different.
There is, then, a distinction to be made between appearance and reality. If
perception is so variable, what can it actually tell us about the stable, real
object we assume lies behind it?
Russell coined the term “sense-data” in his attempt to
discern the relationship between appearance and reality. Sense-data are the
particular things we perceive during the act of sensation. When you walk into a
café, the smell of the coffee, the redness of the awning, and the heat from the
radiator are all examples of sense-data. Sense-data are the mental images
(visual as well as auditory, olfactory, tactile, and gustatory) we receive from
a given object in the physical world. As we can see from the table example, the
same object can produce variable sense-data. Sense-data are related to the
physical objects they represent, but the exact nature of this relationship is
unclear. The skeptical argument contends that sense-data tell us nothing about
the reality of the object. Russell had a commonsense take on the matter: while
he understood the skeptical arguments, he found no reason to believe them. A
hundred different viewers may have a thousand different kinds of sense-data for
a given table, yet each agrees that they are looking at the same table. This
consistency suggests, to Russell, that we must at least believe in the
existence of a single, particular, real table. To this “instinctive” belief,
Russell also adds the hypothesis that physical objects cause the
sense-data we receive and therefore correspond to them in some significant way.
During the act of sensation (i.e., the exercising of our
five senses), we receive and process the sense-data produced by physical
objects in our vicinity. The knowledge we gain during this process Russell
calls “perceptual knowledge”—knowledge gained through experience. In contrast,
Russell believes we are also in possession of certain kinds of a priori
knowledge. These include the self-evident rules of logic, most important, and
those of mathematics. Perceptual knowledge (the knowledge of things) and a
priori knowledge (the knowledge of truths) work in concert: the first gives us
empirical data, and the second tells us how to process that data.
Russell further divides human knowledge into knowledge by
acquaintance and knowledge by description. To be acquainted with something is
to be directly and immediately aware of it, without the action of an
intermediary. When you sit on a red plastic chair, you become acquainted with
lots of sense-data associated with that chair. You know its redness, its
smoothness, its coolness, and its hardness. But to know that this thing is
called a “chair” and that it’s often found in the company of other “chairs” and
something called a “table” requires more than just direct, immediate
acquaintance with the physical object. To know all that requires us to make
inferences, based on our general knowledge of facts and on our acquaintance
with other similar objects. This kind of knowledge is derivative, and Russell
terms it “knowledge by description.” For instance, most of us know only by
description that Everest is the tallest mountain in the world. Few of us have
actually been there, so we have to rely on the testimony of others to “know”
that fact. Indeed, to truly be acquainted with the fact of Everest’s superior
height, one would have to visit and measure all the mountains in the
world. It’s probably safe to say, then, that no one is truly acquainted with
that particular piece of knowledge.
Just as we can know objects either immediately or
derivatively, we can also know truths immediately or derivatively. Russell
defines immediate knowledge of truths as intuitive truths. These are
concepts that, to Russell, are so clearly self-evident that we just know they must
be true. “1 + 1 = 2” is an example of such a self-evident truth. Derivative
knowledge of truths involves deduction and inference from immediate,
self-evident truths.
All knowledge is, in Russell’s view, built on
acquaintance. Without knowledge by description, however, we would never pass
beyond the limits of our own individual experience. Thus, just like perceptual
and a priori knowledge, knowledge by acquaintance and knowledge by description
work together to create a totality of human knowledge.
Analysis
The Problems of Philosophy represents Russell’s first major attempt at mapping out
a theory of epistemology, or a theory of the nature of human knowledge.
Russell’s attempt to discern what kinds of knowledge, if any, could be
considered reasonably certain is similar to the goal of Principia
Mathematica, which is to find an undeniable reason for believing in the
supposed truths of mathematics. Both branches of Russell’s work—the
mathematical and the more traditionally philosophical—have at their heart
Russell’s steadfast devotion to rigorous analysis and his reluctance to accept
any proposition (no matter how obvious or commonsense seeming) without a
concrete, logical reason for doing so.
Beginning with this work and continuing through Our
Knowledge of the External World and beyond, Russell sought to describe the
relationship between knowledge, perception, and physics (the study of the
material, physical world). Fundamental to Russell’s theories was a belief that
the physical world does, in fact, exist. Almost two decades earlier, Russell
had rejected idealism—the theory that reality is not physical but exists only
in the mind—in favor of realism, the belief that objects exist independently of
our perception or experience. The theories of epistemology described in Problems
of Philosophy fit squarely within the British empiricist tradition, in that
they claim that the data gained from personal, immediate experience is the
starting point of all human knowledge. In Russell’s system, data gained from
personal, immediate experience are termed “knowledge by acquaintance.”
According to Russell, any proposition we know “by
description” must be wholly made up of things we know by acquaintance. If we
assume this, then there are some consequences for what, exactly, it is possible
to know by description. Suppose you make a proposition about Julius Caesar: you
say, for example, “Julius Caesar launched the first Roman invasion of Britain .” You
are not actually acquainted with Julius Caesar himself, since you have
no direct, immediate experience of the man. What you hold in your mind is a description
of him. You may know of him as “the founder of the Roman
Empire ,” for example, or “the man assassinated on the Ides of
March,” or “the subject of the marble bust in my local library.” Thus, when you
say, “Julius Caesar launched the first Roman invasion of Britain ,”
you’re not really asserting something about the real Julius Caesar—you can’t
be, as you have no direct knowledge of him. Instead, you’re asserting something
about the collection of facts and ideas about Caesar with which you are
acquainted. No matter how many facts we may learn about Caesar, we can still
only know him by description. We can never reach a point where we directly know
him by acquaintance. The general thrust of this argument foreshadows Russell’s
work in logical atomism, which argues that statements can be broken down into a
series of constituent assumptions. The argument is also tied to Russell’s
Theory of Descriptions, which explains how definite descriptions—phrases like that
cat, Bill Cosby, or my mother, which refer to specific,
particular objects—are just shorthand for a series of logical claims.
Similarly, when we use the phrase Julius Caesar, we’re using the name to
refer not to the man himself but to a series of facts and descriptions we have
learned about him.
The Problems of Philosophy was meant to be an introduction to the field, and as
such, Russell’s arguments aren’t as thorough as we might expect from the
founder of analytic philosophy. He often errs on the side of “illustrating” his
points rather than meticulously mapping them out. While the book makes strong
appeals to common sense, there are still elements that have greatly troubled
critics. One such problem lies with Russell’s notion of intuitive knowledge.
Russell never satisfactorily explains what, exactly, makes a truth
self-evident, and he does not provide sufficient examples of these intuitive,
immediate truths. Russell also provides no plan for distinguishing between two
apparently self-evident truths that nevertheless contradict each other.
The concept of sense-data, as set out by Russell, has
also proved problematic. Russell takes it as a given that sense-data are the
building blocks of perception. We look at a table and we sense its brownness,
its hardness, and its rectangularity. From these sense-data, we construct our
idea of the table. Other philosophers argue that, upon seeing a table, we are
immediately aware of the object as a table, and it is only later, when
we stop to concentrate on what we see, that we consciously notice the object’s
color, its texture, or its shape. According to these thinkers, sense-data as
defined by Russell cannot be the most primitive, direct element of experience
because it requires too much conscious effort to be aware of them.
Finally, a major issue in Problems of Philosophy
lies in the fact that, to Russell, all knowledge is built on knowledge by
acquaintance, or the things we know through direct, personal experience.
Russell accepts a fundamentally Cartesian point of view, which means he accepts
that the proper foundation for philosophical inquiry is individual
consciousness and perspective. But how can a theory of knowledge be built on
private experiences if this theory is supposed to apply to all beings? This
problem (among others) bothered Russell, and in his next major epistemological
work, Our Knowledge of the External World, he begins to push his inquiry
into the public sphere
Context
Although he was best known for his contributions to logic
and philosophy, Bertrand Russell’s range of interests was impressively wide. He
was engaged in what seemed to be the entire extent of human endeavor: not only
was he deeply involved with mathematics, philosophy, science, and logic, but he
was also interested in political activism, social justice, education, and
sexual morality. His influence has been so pervasive that in some ways it has
become difficult for us to appreciate its full impact. Russell’s work has
fundamentally changed the way philosophy is practiced and the way we understand
logic, mathematics, and science.
Bertrand Arthur William Russell was born into a
privileged English family on May 18, 1872. He was the grandson of Lord John
Russell, who was the first Earl of Russell as well as a former prime minister.
Bertrand’s early life was traumatic: orphaned by the age of four, he and his
elder brother Frank were sent to live with their strict grandparents. Lord
Russell died when Bertrand was six, and thereafter the boys were raised by
their austerely religious, authoritarian grandmother. Russell’s youth was
filled with rules and prohibitions, and his earliest desire was to free himself
from such constraints. His lifelong distrust of religion no doubt stems from
this early experience. As was customary for children of his social class,
Russell was initially tutored at home. Later, he attended Trinity
College , Cambridge , where he achieved first-class
honors in mathematics and philosophy. At Cambridge ,
under the tutelage of the Hegelian philosopher J.M.E. McTaggart, Russell became
a proponent of idealism, the belief that all reality is ultimately a product of
the mind. Some years after graduating, however, Russell and his colleague G.E.
Moore came to reject idealism in favor of realism, the belief that the external
world exists independently of experience and consciousness. Russell became part
of a general revitalization of empiricism, the belief that all human knowledge
is derived from our sensory experience of the external world. By the time
Russell published the philosophical works discussed here (The Problems of
Philosophy and Our Knowledge of the External World), he was working
firmly in the empiricist tradition.
Russell graduated from Cambridge
in 1894 and was briefly an attaché at the British Embassy in Paris . In 1895, he returned to England , where he became a fellow of Trinity College and married his first wife, Alys
Pearsall Smith. A year later, after a visit to Berlin , he published German Social
Democracy, the first of his seventy-odd books.
Russell’s important early work was concerned with
mathematics. Russell’s great contribution to logic and mathematics was his
defense of logicism—that is, the theory that all mathematics can, in some
fundamental way, be reduced to logical principles. The logicist project was
important because, if it could be achieved, then mathematics would be
established as a field of certain knowledge and not one of conjecture.
Mathematics could legitimately be considered a priori knowledge, meaning
knowledge that is necessary and self-evident, completely objective, and
independent of human experience. The search for legitimately a priori knowledge
has been a major occupation of philosophy throughout history. Over the course
of his career, Russell remained preoccupied with the questions of what we can
know with absolute certainty and how we can know it. The Principia
Mathematica, Russell’s three-volume treatise on logicism, coauthored with
A. N. Whitehead, is full of painstaking proofs that attempt to establish that
numbers, arithmetic, and all mathematical principles can be derived from formal
logic. This dedication to rigor and interest in justification is a recurring
characteristic in Russell’s work.
Along with G. E. Moore and with Russell’s student Ludwig
Wittgenstein, Russell is considered one of the founding proponents of analytic
philosophy. Analytic philosophy describes both a historical tradition (the
tradition following Moore and Russell) and a general approach to the practice
of philosophy. Analytic philosophy—which has come to be virtually synonymous
with “logical positivism”—refers to a belief that philosophy should be executed
with the same rigor and precision as scientific inquiry. Analytic philosophy is
characterized by a skeptical distrust of assumptions and a methodical system of
analysis based on logic. Just as he used logic to describe the foundations of
mathematics in Principia Mathematica, Russell would use logic to clarify
philosophy, through his concept of logical atomism, and linguistics, through
his theory of descriptions. Although the subject matter differed across his
career, Russell’s analytic methodology remained more or less constant. Many of
the particulars of Russell’s analysis have been challenged or refuted, but his
legacy as an analyst remains undeniably influential.
Although Russell’s intellectual reputation is based on
his work as a mathematician, philosopher, and logician, Russell was also noted
for his work as a social reformer. In fact, he first became known to the
general public because of his political and social work rather than his
publications. When the First World War broke out, Russell publicly voiced
increasingly controversial political views. He became an activist for pacifism,
which resulted in his dismissal from Trinity
College in 1916. Two
years later, his opposition to British involvement in the war landed him in
prison. Stripped of his teaching job, he began to make his living by writing
and lecturing independently. In 1919, Russell visited the newly formed Soviet Union , where he met many of the famous personalities
of the revolution he had initially supported. The visit soured his view of the
Socialist movement in Russia ,
and later that year he wrote a scathing attack titled Theory and Practice of
Bolshevism. In 1921, he married his second wife, Dora Black, with whom he
explored his interest in education. Russell and Black opened the progressive Beacon Hill School , and Russell wrote such works as On
Education (1926) and, a few years later, Education and the Social Order
(1932).
In 1931, Russell became the third Earl of Russell. Five
years later, he divorced Dora Black and married his third wife, Patricia
Spence. By this time, he was extremely interested in morality and had written
on the subject in his controversial book Marriage and Morals (1932). He
had moved to New York to teach at City College
but was dismissed from the position because of his unconventional, liberal
attitudes on sexuality. When Adolf Hitler came to power in Germany ,
Russell began to question his own dogmatic pacifism and by 1939 had rejected it
in favor of a more relativist position. Believing Nazism to be an evil that
needed to be stopped at all costs, he campaigned tirelessly against it
throughout the Second World War. He returned to England
from the United States
in 1944. His teaching position at Trinity
College was restored to
him, and he was granted the Order of Merit by King George VI. In the period
that followed, he wrote several important books, including An Enquiry into
Meaning and Truth (1940), Human Knowledge: Its Scopes and Limits
(1948), and his best-known work from the period, History of Western
Philosophy (1945). He also continued writing controversial pieces on
social, moral, and religious issues. Most of these were collected and published
in 1957 as Why I Am Not a Christian. From 1949 and for the rest of his
life, he was an active advocate of nuclear disarmament. In 1950, Russell won
the Nobel Prize in Literature. He spent his final years in North
Wales , actively writing until the end. He died on February 2,
1970.
The
Problems of Philosophy, one of the most popular works in Russell's prolific
collection of writings, has become core reading in philosophy. Clear and
accessible, this little book is an intelligible and stimulating guide to those
problems of philosophy which often mistakenly lead to its status as too lofty
and abstruse for the lay mind. Focusing on problems he believes will provoke
positive and constructive discussion, Russell concentrates on knowledge rather
than metaphysics, steering the reader through his famous 1910 distinction
between "knowledge by acquaintance and knowledge by description," and
introducing important theories of Descartes, Kant, Hegel, Hume, Locke, Plato,
and others to lay the foundation for philosophical inquiry by general readers
and scholars alike. With a new introduction by John Perry, this valuable work is a perfect introduction to the field and will continue to stimulate philosophical discussion as it has done for nearly forty years.
I bought this book because it was recommended for further
reading in my philosophy class. I figured it was going to be a pure
drag...you know, Huge words, vague sentences, so on and so on. I have to say
that this book is the complete opposite. Bertrand Russell brings the topics
right down to earth and explains them in a way that the average person can
understand. The last chapter, "The value of Philosophy" is written
with beautiful style and is an enjoyment to read. Here is a qoute from this
chapter
"Philosophy, though unable to tell us with certainty what
is the true answer to the doubts which it raises, is able to suggest many
possiblities which enlarge our thoughts and free them from the tyranny of
custom. Thus, while diminishing our feeling of certainty as to what things
are, it greatly increases our knowledge as to what the may be; it removes the
somewhat arrogant dogmatism of those who have never travelled into the region
of liberating doubt, and it keeps alive our sense of wonder by showing
familar things in an unfamilar aspect." This book definetely has sparked in me an interest in philosophy. If you are even remotely interested in the subject, I recommend you buying it too.
Help other customers find the most helpful reviews
21 of 22 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars Thought-provoking...,
March 14, 2001
By
This review is from: The
Problems of Philosophy (Paperback)
This book was my first foray into philosophy, and surprisingly,
it proved to be very enjoyable. For many, just the word
"philosophy" evokes images of ancient thinkers, yet not in a very
appealing light: old men sitting around, absent-mindedly stroking their chins
as they ponder the meaning of life.
Yet, philosophy does not deserve this reputation. It is not just
some hobby for stodgy elders, or those with nothing better to do. Rather, it
is quite the opposite; it is an endlessly intriguing subject, one which
causes you to consider things you may have never thought of before. Survive
the test, and the reaffirmation that results will be worth it. Philosophy contains no easy answers. It poses a myriad of questions which can force one to doubt, and even reexamine, one's beliefs -- even those which previously seemed so resolute. This may at first be difficult or discombobulating, but persistance is rewarded with an even stronger foundation than before. I will not attempt to summarize this book, as people before me have already explained it sufficiently. However, I will say that this book was a great influence, and a wonderful introduction to the world of philosophy. For such an abstruse and "deep" matter, one would think that most would be intimidated; however, Russell handles it splendidly. He writes in a lucid, unpretentious manner, and spares the reader any unnecessary confusion. Even to this day, my friends tease me about "philosophy of a table." It is impossible for me to adequately describe this book, but let me say that it is brilliant and refreshing. For me, philosophy is not meant to give an individual a headache. It is simply for those who wish to gain a better understanding of themselves and their surroundings. And this book, exceptional in its quality, is an excellent choice to get you started on that interminable journey towards the ever so elusive Truth.
Help other customers find the most helpful reviews
67 of 79 people found the following review helpful:
3.0 out of 5 stars A
Major 20th Century Contribution, August 19, 2001
By
D. S. Heersink "D. Stephen
Heersink" (San
Francisco) - See
all my reviews
(TOP 1000 REVIEWER) (REAL NAME)
This review is from: The
Problems of Philosophy (Paperback)
When one considers that the great philosophers of the twentieth
century stand on the shoulders of Bertrand Russell, Alfred North Whitehead,
A. J. Ayer, G. E. Moore, and Ludwig Wittgenstein, one has to place Russell in
the foreground as the philosophers' philosopher. He writes with clarity and
lucidity. His concerns are largely logical and epistemological. And this book
centers around his principal concerns.
I doubt that Russell would write this same book today, but I
also doubt that he would fundamentally alter the positions he takes, if he
were writing today. There is something neat, eloquent, and elegant about his
epistemological premises that make this work (well beyond its 17th printing
and more than eighty years old) such a venerable treasure trove. Could his
positions be better articulated? Yes, but not by much. Would he delve more
deeply into logic? Almost certainly. And he does, in other books written
during his lifetime. This book is really for the novice. My only complaint is that the novice will probably remain lost if his readings did not encompass more logic and criticism of rational and empirical epistemology. What makes Russell a true "modern" in contemporary philosophy is his bridge to resolving both the rationalist and empiricist schools of thought. One not knowing these dichotomies might find Russell's resolution difficult to follow. Elsewhere in the book, Russell identifies "three" rules of thought, when these rules are no longer considered all that are extent. Generally, there are seven, sometimes nine, taught in most symbolic logic courses, and this discrepancy may needlessly cause confusion. So while the book is written for the novice, it bears re-reading after covering other contemporary writers. Russell and the others mentioned above are often associated with logical atomism, either directly or indirectly. Reading Russell or Ayer gives the student the best opportunity to do philosophy whilst learning it first hand. Both are explicit writers with Ayer perhaps having the upper hand. But, as with any philosophical school, such as logical atomism, there is always a counter reaction, and A. L. Austin's "Sense and Sensibility" is just such a reproach. Russell, like Ayer, uses the construct of "sense data" to explain the theory of knowledge; Austin and Gilbert Ryle redress both author's use of such "metaphysical" interpolations, which makes for an interesting contrast. Any reader of Russell or Ayer should counterbalance his reading with "The Problems of Philosophy" is not without gaps that may leave the reader puzzled by the omissions. Perhaps they weren't as obvious when Russell wrote this book, but they are clearer now in hindsight. An egregious omission is the absence of anything to do with ethics or moral theory. Since ethics is one of the few domains particular to philosophy alone, this omission is particularly troublesome in a book of this name. If I were to title the book, it would be "The Problems of Epistemology." |
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Bertrand Russell's Philosophy Problem –
Appearance and Reality
Dec 6, 2010 Vaughan Jones
ONE Life - V
Jones
Bertrand
Russell noticed the flaw pertaining to the reality of matter. Now Quantum Physicists
say, all matter is a holographic presentation.
As he noted in his book, 'Problems in Philosophy' Chapter One, 'Appearance and Reality' (Pg.4 and 5), he uses an example of observing the objects that surround him, a table being one of them, and acknowledging that no-one else in the room would sense the table, or perceive it, exactly as he does from the angle at which he is viewing it. From this, he is reminded of one of the distinctions that causes trouble in philosophy; the distinction between appearance and reality. An artist would see it from an even different perspective to that of an ordinary person, in terms of perspective, light, shade, colouring, and so on.
The Existence of matter
Continuing in the same section of the book
referred to above, Russell reminds us that using our senses to determine
reality or the truth of reality, is dangerous because there is no logical
reasoning attached to the decision, it would be purely sensory. Doubting the
reality of the object would mean that its reality is inferred by the
perceptions made from the senses of the person observing it. Thus, it is termed
sense-data. Then what is the relation of the sense data to the real object; if
it really does exist, that is? The object is termed the physical object. The
collection of all physical objects is called matter.
Spiritual Mind
Science Discover The Power of The Mind in The Secret Forbidden
Knowledge www.substance.com
Philosophy of
Education Access full-text academic books and journals. Online
research - Questia www.Questia.com/Philosophy_of_Ed
Russell introduces Bishop Berkeley as the first
philosopher who claimed that there is no such thing as matter and that nothing
exists independent of our observation and senses; and that the world consists
of nothing but our minds and thoughts. He refuted the idea that something can
exist outside of our minds, or when we are not present to perceive it.
Therefore, if any object still exists beyond our sensory observation, it does
so because it is in the mind of God. Other philosophers agree that nothing is
real except the mind, thus, all matter exists as a result of the mind. For
example Leibniz(1646-1716), who claims that what appears as matter is nothing
other than a collection of more or less rudimentary minds.Russell indicates that these philosophers, even though they refute the actual existence of matter, still in another sense admit that matter exists.
Thus, what we directly see and sense is merely appearance, which we believe to be a sign of reality. But if the reality is not what it seems, can we presume that reality actually exists.
Read on
- Bertrand Russell's Rejection of
Christianity
- Differences Between Plato and
Bertrand Russell
- Gottlob Frege Philosophy
Plausibility of the argument
What Bertrand Russell is trying to establish in
this chapter certainly carries a lot of weight and he tries hard to establish
reality regarding matter and our perception of objects that we sense. As with
Descartes’ belief, that a thought process of first believing that nothing is
truth and then building up the facts from there onward to prove the truth of
the existence of anything, is the best method.Russell’s analysis and conclusions in his determination seem to go full circle; from wondering whether anything can truly be stated as real through proving that nothing can be regarded as real, then back to quoting other philosopher’s decisions that matter, or certain objects, exist in the mind of God, and their existence is not dependant only on our observation and our thoughts.
Conclusion
There does not seem to be any certainty about the
true existence of objects, or their reality. So the thought continues; does
anything actually exist?Read more at Suite101: Bertrand Russell's Philosophy Problem – Appearance and Reality http://www.suite101.com/content/bertrand-russells-philosophy-problem----appearance-and-reality-a317328#ixzz1AnsyLOl1
Chapter 1, Appearance and Reality Summary and Analysis
An age-old
philosophical problem is whether there is any knowledge in the world so certain
that a reasonable man cannot doubt it. Philosophy must proceed critically, not
dogmatically, in answering these questions. In daily life, we often assume
things to be true that are really full of contradictions. When we look for
certainty, therefore, we often think it is appropriate to doubt broadly,
particularly our immediate experiences. For instance, considering a table, to
the eye it has one appearance but physics describes its reality quite
differently.
These differences
may seem unimportant but they are not, for instance, they are not unimportant
to the painter. The painter finds the table brown but the physicist says that
there is no real color in the table, but is rather just the way.....
Chapter 1 - Appearance and Reality
Summary
Russell begins by asking his reader to consider what
knowledge exists that can be known beyond reasonable doubt. His purpose is to
produce the realization that radical doubt soon brings even the most
self-evident assumptions in our everyday lives under reconsideration. In this
beginning chapter, Russell describes a scene: "I am now sitting in a
chair, at a table of a certain shape, on which I see sheets of paper with
writing or print." All of these "facts" are easily called into
question. Russell engages in his discussion to find out how knowledge of such
things is possible at all.
In order to lay bare the ordinary assumptions at issue,
Russell concentrates on one example, the table before him. Walking around the
table, he discerns different colors from different points of view: in places
seeming to reflect more light, a brighter shade of brown appears. In reality we
assume that there is only one color of the table, yet the appearance of many
colors contradicts our assumption. The color seems to be a relation depending
on the observer, his point of view, and conditions like "the way the light
falls on the table."
Since it seems clear that no two people could share one
identical point of view, Russell registers a doubt as to whether one real color
of the table even exists. Russell continues his investigation of color by
reasoning that in ordinary language usage, when we refer to the color of an
object, we actually refer to something perceived from the usual perspective of
observer. However, he continues, there is no reason to assume that the usual
perspective should be considered real and other perspectives, under other
conditions, be considered less real. Russell does not think that the most usual
brown should be considered the brown of the table, to the exclusion of other
apparent browns.
As with color, the existence of just one texture of the
table is ambiguous, because "to the naked eye, the table appears to be
smooth and hard. Aided by microscope, the grain of the wood enlarges to appear
as a mountainous range of different roughnesses and textures." Russell
argues that one cannot consider one texture more real than another. The shape
of the table, a rectangle, also changes immediate shape as one walks around it.
Sensation of pressure depends on the force we exert on the table, as does the
production of sound when we rap on the wood. Thus, the sensations of touch and
sound, like sight, are not fixed by a reality; they are apparent possibilities
and each depends on the conditions of observation. These observations lead to
Russell's first distinction between appearance and reality, "between what
things seem to be and what they are." Russell proposes that we are not
struck with these discontinuities in our daily life because in practical
experience, one learns "to construct the 'real' shape from the apparent
shape." The real shape exists in so much as we infer it from our senses.
He writes, "the real table, if there is one, is not
immediately known to us at all, but must be an inference from what is
immediately known." The reality of the table, in the sense that there is a
table, depends on a process of inference based on a knowable part of reality,
the part Russell calls "sense-data". Sense-data are not the same as
our sensations. Sense-data are "the things that are immediately known to
us in sensation." Variations in our sensations indicate that sensation
does not directly reveal the reality of an object like the table. Instead, it
is probable that our sensations are "signs of some property which perhaps
causes all the sensations." To fully grasp Russell's distinction, consider
sensation as an act belonging to the realm of experience and consider the
object of that direct experience to be sense-data. The object, a patch of red,
produces the sensation or experience of redness. Since we have seen that
certain knowledge of the table's reality is not available through the senses,
Russell asks how we can know that a real table exists at all and what kind of
certainty we can have. It remains clear that we do have an experience of
awareness where we recognize colors and other properties as part of the table.
While we may doubt the existence of a real table, it is harder to doubt our
awareness of our own sensations. Therefore, we can regard our confidence in the
sense-data of our everyday experiences as safe.
The next problem that arises is one of understanding how
the real table, if there is one, relates to our sense-data. Russell states that
it is impossible to understand, in this stage of the discussion, if or how the
relation would work. The questions we must first approach are: "is there a
real table at all" and "if so, what sort of object can it be?"
This relation, between sense-data and the real table, is a substantial concern
for Russell's enquiry. Returning to his table, he admits that when we have been
saying the "real table," we have meant the "physical
object." Physical objects may be understood as "matter." The
questions at issue become: "is there any such thing as matter" and
"if so, what is its nature?"
Russell considers one possible answer to the first
question with the thought of British philosopher Bishop Berkeley (1685–1753). Berkeley brought out the
position that the immediate objects, which we call physical objects, do not
exist independently of us. Rather, they depend on our minds. On his view,
matter does not exist. What we call physical objects are really just ideas,
mental products that we project onto the world. The existence of objects that
appear to correspond to our sensations is dubious on this view. Russell's
contemplation of the table shares Berkeley 's
spirit of enquiry insomuch as he agrees with Berkeley that "if there are any things
that exist independently of us they cannot be the immediate objects of our
sensations." However, Berkeley 's
arguments offer a more extreme philosophical view, belief in the impossibility
of a reality independent of man.
At this point, Russell integrates an important
distinction between meanings packed in the word "matter." A common
conception of matter is something opposed to mind, something that takes up
space in the physical world and is absolutely incapable of consciousness. Berkeley denies this
sense of matter. He does not deny matter in the sense of things like
sense-data, which signify an existence of something independent of ourselves.
According to Berkeley ,
this independence is possible; he believes that there is something that
persists when we close our eyes or walk out of a room. However, he believes
that this something depends for its existence on a mind, that it may be
independent but must be mental. It must not be "independent of seeing
altogether, though it must be independent of our seeing." Thus, Berkeley regards the
reality of the table and other such physical objects as ideas in the mind of
God. Things can exist independently as long as they are not things essentially
unknowable.
Russell also accepts the version of matter that they do
not deny. By reiterating his initial question: "Is there a real table at
all?" Russell points out his agreement with Berkeley and Leibniz in
believing that there is a real table. However, Russell disagrees with the idealists
over the question of the nature of the real table, the latter question
"what sort of object can it be?" Russell continues that "almost
all philosophers agree that there is a real table" and that our sense-data
are signs of something that exists independent of us, something that may be
said to cause the "sense-data whenever we are in a suitable relation to
the real table." Before going on to an analysis of matter, Russell
recognizes the positive agreement to his first question as conspicuously
important and plans, in the next chapter, to investigate the reasons why anyone
should believe thus. Russell concludes by reemphasizing that what we gather
from our senses directly in terms of "appearance" are but signs from
which we infer "reality."
Analysis
Russell's method of approaching his subject embraces the
Cartesian technique of radical doubt. Rene Descartes (1596–1650) first employed
it in his Meditations on First Philosophy. Upon discovering his
philosophical confusion about ordinary things, Descartes decided to believe in
nothing that he did not discern as clearly and distinctly true. Descartes
imagined the possibility of a mischievous demon, who disordered reality in
order to deceive humans; anything was possible if he could not prove that it
wasn't the case. Russell acknowledges his debt to Descartes in his second
chapter when he makes explicit use of Cartesian philosophy to support the idea
that "subjective things are the most certain." Russell's first
chapter uses radical doubt to separate reality from illusory appearance, a
distinction not motivated by a demon, but by the suggestion that reality is
simply ordered in a way that is not immediately present to our senses.
Russell takes issue with the authority of common sense by
showing that the appearances of the table are numerous and contradictory and
cannot be said to suffice as a description of one reality. Confusion about the
table's color, texture, and shape, are sufficient to prompt doubt as to whether
or not the table exists at all. Belief in the table remains dubious until
Russell creates a distinction between the table and sense-data representing the
table. Engaging Russell's language allows us to separate our experience of the
table, which becomes confusing, from an idea of a real table removed from our
perception.
At the end of chapter 1, Russell writes,
"Philosophy, if it cannot answer so many questions as we could wish, has
at least the power of asking questions which increase the interest of the
world, and show the strangeness and wonder lying just below the surface even in
the commonest things of daily life." This philosophic capacity to ask
questions finds thematic expression throughout the work. Here, the sudden way
that reflective questioning can contradict our ordinary view of the world makes
clear the necessity of Russell's project. He identifies a need for a theory of
knowledge that will reconcile what appears to be from what really is. Russell
also appeals to an urge to practice knowledge responsibly, that in order to
make statements or hold beliefs about knowledge, we must be able to
substantiate that our knowledge is faithful to reality.
Russell's sense-data terminology endures as a helpful
reference throughout the work and also as a touchstone of modern philosophy.
His table is the illustrative case of sense-data, famous from this popular
work, and used as a staple of contemporary philosophical discussion. Among the
philosophers who have responded to it in their own works, Hilary Putnam notably
identifies Russell's table in his most recent work The Threefold Cord.
Putnam discusses the notion of sense-data as a mistaken conceptualization of
reality, which Russell developed as a result of the limitations of his
scientific age. The mistake does not necessarily rest on an issue of perspective,
because the table still might be one color, just affected by a force of nature
not identified, not taken into account; if it were, then the table's color
would be constant, and still independent of the observer
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