[From Rick Marken (970308.1750 PST)]
I was about to answer the posts from Tracy Harms (970308.1610 PST)
and Jim Chriss (970308) but then I found that Bill Powers
(970308.1754 MST) and (970308.1745 MST) had already done so, saying
exactly what I was going to say (only better, as usual) so I guess I'll
just go out on the town and control some higher level perceptions;-)
Best
Rick
Thanks Gary and Rick for bringing up the issue of animal studies. This
is one of the sorest subjects for me. I am not convinced at all that
animal studies can tell us anything useful or relevant about human
social behavior, or even about perception. As a sociologist, I am
perplexed at how readily and uncritically psychology students I come
across in my classes and elsewhere buy into the notion that implanting
an electrode into a rat's brain, say, can tell us anything meaningful
about human behavior. There is a whole tradition of attachment theory
opening up within sociology with Thomas Spence Smith's theory of strong
interaction. He believes human beings get "addicted" to people just
like they might get addicted to chemical substances. Of course, he and
others don't stop to realize that addiction not only has a physiological
component, but also cultural, that is interpretive, components That is,
human beings are taught to interpret the effects of these chemicals or
whatever, and these interpretations can vary widely from society to
society or from group to group. For example, drunken comportment has
been interpreted differently both by the drunk him- or herself and the
audiences observing them over time even in our country over the last 30
years. And of course it has been established that the physiological
effect of ingesting alcohol has a wide range of impacts, in terms of
human beings' cognitive responses to it, that vary from society to
society.
One might want to argue that the chemical effect on the body stays the
same regardless of the prevailing culture or interpretive schema that in
effect socializes human beings into "making sense" of a particular
stimulus. Well, fine. So what? What does the facts about chemical
processes in the body or things occurring at the cellular level have to
do with explaining the empirical human social world? Human social life
is an emergent phenomenon, a reality sui generis that cannot be reduced
down to its individual components, whether this be set at the level of
the human being himself, or even further down analytically into the
identity, the personality, or even the cellular level. So the answer
would be, not much. Maybe biochemists would have interest in this, but
when they cross over the line and try to explain human behavior, they
are moving into territory they are ill-equipped to handle (assuming they
don't have advanced training in the social sciences). This is what is
disturbing about the trend of physicians dabbling more and more in
social explanation. This would be like a sociologist making medical
diagnoses or performing surgery. It's generally misguided.
Thanks.
Jim Chriss
Kansas Newman College
Sociology Department
[From Rick Marken (970308.1515 PST)]
James Chriss (970308) --
I am not convinced at all that animal studies can tell us anything
useful or relevant about human social behavior, or even about
perception.
Why not? I'm quite sure than animal studies, if properly done, could tell
us a lot about the behavior of living systems in general and humans in
particular. You seem to think they can't because:
Human social life is an emergent phenomenon, a reality sui generis
that cannot be reduced down to its individual components
I don't understand what this means. Doesn't the phenomenon of
social life "emerge" from the interaction of _humans_? Wouldn't it seem
natural to look for an explanation of a social phenomenon (such as the
patterns of crowd behavior that Clark McPhail has observed) in the laws
that govern the behavior of the components (in this case, humans) from
which the phenomenon presumably emerges?
I hope you didn't interpret my comments to Gary as a put down of animal
research. I happen to think animal research is a _great_ way to
study purposeful behavior. My criticisms of the animal research Gary
described would also apply to virtually all of the social psychology and
sociology research with which I am familiar. If you are trying to
understand the behavior of individual or collections of purposeful systems,
you have to study their behavior in a PCT-aware way; from the perspective of
the system itself rather than from the perspective of the observer of the
system. You have to be able to do what Yeats thought was impossible; tell
the dancer (what the system controls) from the dance (what the observer sees).
Errata: In my previous post I said:
It would help him understand what a controlled variable IS and why S-R
relationships cannot be used to infer what these relationships are.
I should have said:
It would help him understand what a controlled variable IS and why S-R
relationships cannot be used to infer what these _variables_ are.
Best
Rick
from Tracy Harms (970308.1610 PST)
James Chriss (970308) wrote:
Human social life is an emergent phenomenon, a reality sui generis
that cannot be reduced down to its individual components
Rick Marken (970308.1515 PST) replied:
I don't understand what this means.
At the risk of being wrong, I think I do understand this. This seems
intimately tied with a topic I've been lately exploring on an economics
list, the question of wherein lies the difference, regarding pursuit of
fields of study, between distinctly human action and the broader study of
animals. One point I brought to that discussion is that it is certainly
not purposiveness in the broadest sense which is distinctive to human
action. This line of argument I hardly need explain to this PCT crowd!
But I agree with what I see in James Chriss' post, that there is something
special about what happens among humans which is not going to be exposed by
studying other animals. There does seem to be an implicit assumption in
these studies that by identifying various contributors to animal behavior,
certain components will be revealed. Furthermore, and far more dubious,
that these components will be the elements which would explain
sophisticated human endeavors by means of a reductionistic analysis. This
is an error, and I think James Chriss was pointing directly at it. We may
well disagree on some particulars, but we share a disdain for this idea
that the most impressive features of humanity can be understood by a
cobblestone collection of good answers to various animal problems.
Nonetheless I agree with Rick that "animal studies, if properly done, could
tell us a lot about the behavior of living systems in general and humans in
particular." I differ from most who argue that human action is
qualitatively special because I strenuously work to avoid the equivalent of
vitalism. (There probably is a word for this thing, but it doesn't come to
mind. Just as people used to think that living things were different for
containing a vital essence, a 'spark of life' not found in the inanimate
realm, many explanations rely on something similar as they assert that
human action is qualitatively beyond what we find elsewhere, with rare and
marginal exceptions among apes and cetaceans.) I insist that we can accept
and explain this specialness without recourse to such a ploy.
To jump to a PCT-related proposition (but skipping any detailed defense),
PCT is as applicable to psychology as it is to zoology, for there is
nothing in the playing-out of human intentionality which is not entailed in
mammalian (or at least simian) physiology. The great difference lies in
the human ability to deal with *concepts*, especially as these affect the
making and re-making of goals and preferences. (Reference levels, for the
HPCTer.) The presence and potency of this conceptual factor is only
explainable as an emergent phenomenon which defies reductionistic analysis.
This post was too jargon heavy; I apologize. I don't know how to say these
things specifically, quickly, briefly, and lucidly. I fear lucidity is my
least-controlled perception in cases such as this.
Having written the foregoing, I received James Chriss' follow-up (8 Mar
1997 18:06:55 -0600). That post does not destroy my presumption that we
concur that there are cultural factors which make human action
"fundamentally, irrevocably different."
Tracy Bruce Harms
harms@hackvan.com
[From Bill Powers (970308.1754 MST)]
Tracy Harms (970308.1610 PST) --
But I agree with what I see in James Chriss' post, that there is something
special about what happens among humans which is not going to be exposed
by studying other animals. There does seem to be an implicit assumption
in these studies that by identifying various contributors to animal
behavior, certain components will be revealed. Furthermore, and far more
dubious, that these components will be the elements which would explain
sophisticated human endeavors by means of a reductionistic analysis. This
is an error, and I think James Chriss was pointing directly at it. We may
well disagree on some particulars, but we share a disdain for this idea
that the most impressive features of humanity can be understood by a
cobblestone collection of good answers to various animal problems.
I think that we have to guard against the natural tendency to assume that we
just happen to be the highest form of life, for no better reason that this
is what we would like (for whatever reasons) to be. If you WANT this to be
true, how can you ever be sure that your want isn't influencing your
reasoning? "The rich man in his castle, the poor man at the gate" was surely
a concept endorsed more enthusiastically by the rich man than the poor man.
It seems to me that the proper way to deal with this problem is not by
stating a conclusion and then looking for evidence to support it, but by
asking a simple question: In what ways do animal and human behavior differ?
Before you can even start to answer this question, you have to answer
another one: How do animal and human behavior work? If you don't have a
pretty solid theory of behavior, it's going to be hard to find meaningful
differences.
I think there are some pretty clear differences between human behavior and
that of other species. Part of the differences seems to involve levels of
perception and control; another part has to do with the variety of systems
that develop at each level. If we really want to study these differences, we
will learn how to assess these factors in a way that doesn't depend on the
answer we want to get. Along the way, we will certainly find close
similarities, particularly in the sense that we will find all species
controlling perceptual variables, some unique to a particular species.
In the absence of the necessary studies, however, I view all arguments about
the superiority of the human species (or any other) with deep suspicion. I
don't think we can find the answers to these questions until we truly stop
caring what they turn out to be.
Best,
Bill P.
from Tracy Harms (970308.2000 PST)
Bill Powers (970308.1754 MST)
I think that we have to guard against the natural tendency to assume that we
just happen to be the highest form of life, for no better reason that this
is what we would like (for whatever reasons) to be. If you WANT this to be
true, how can you ever be sure that your want isn't influencing your
reasoning?
The hazard, I counter, is not whether or not our reasoning is influenced by
our preferences, but whether that influence is so great that we fail to
open ourselves to seriously consider that we may be wrong. Favoritism is
not a fault so long as we do not protect these ideas from the possibility
of being rejected. Rational integrity demands that we must be willing to
honestly face our theories' problems, and correct those errors where
solutions are found.
The apparent danger of starting with an attractive proposal is an artifact
of the assumption that reasoning is carried out by producing positive
support for propositions. Indeed, the enthusiasm of zealots to glean
supporting evidence for a pet theory is a major danger signal. However, it
turns out that even if we omit matters of emotional favoritism, any attempt
to pursue science and/or rationality by means of positive support *still*
fails miserably! When this methodological error is corrected it becomes
clear that there is no hazard in starting with strong biases. Indeed we
must abandon the notion that we might be able to proceed without a starting
place, or that we might be able to purge ourselves of bias so to work from
some sort of tabula rasa. We must do this in order to come to grips with a
very important nexus of facts: Knowledge is always a participation;
perception entails a viewpoint.
HPCT is way ahead of the game in this regard in some dimensions, but among
HPCT theorists this insight still seems mostly lacking from theory of
method. I'm not going to hold my breath for this to change, but I will
announce a prediction that if PCT flourishes in the future it will do so in
tandem with a non-positivist vision of rationality, for it is logically
incompatible with positivism.
I don't think we can find the answers to these questions until we truly
stop caring what they turn out to be.
No, we don't need to stop caring. We just need to be willing to admit when
we are wrong, and thereby turn away from those temptations which are not
answers.
The myth of academic detachment, which you and Rick have championed, is
actually quite a booby-trap. Those who take it up in earnest either eschew
moral involvement, or become torn by a pointless and insoluble conflict
between truth and life.
Finally, just to clarify, I made no assertion that humans are the highest
form of life. I only said that there is something qualitatively special
about culture and the concepts by which it occurs. But since you (sort of)
asked, I do think that this specialness has ethical aspects which transcend
humanity. Highest? Hard to guess. Good? Precious? Yes.
Tracy Bruce Harms
harms@hackvan.com
[From Bill Powers (970308.waiting for comet)]
Tracy Harms (970308.2000 PST) --
I think that we have to guard against the natural tendency to assume that
we just happen to be the highest form of life, for no better reason that
this is what we would like (for whatever reasons) to be.
The hazard, I counter, is not whether or not our reasoning is influenced
by our preferences, but whether that influence is so great that we fail to
open ourselves to seriously consider that we may be wrong.
....
I don't think we can find the answers to these questions until we truly
stop caring what they turn out to be.
No, we don't need to stop caring. We just need to be willing to admit
when we are wrong, and thereby turn away from those temptations which are
not answers.
There's a difference between not caring because we aren't interested in the
answer and not caring in the sense of having no preference for a particular
answer. The problem with having a preference is that we are all good control
systems, and our brains will actively screen out any considerations that
might lead to the "wrong" answer. It's not a matter of being unwilling to
admit we're wrong once the possibility is pointed out. It's a matter of
avoiding raising the critical possibilities for examination in the first place.
I agree with you that scientific detachment -- "objectivity" -- is a myth.
(And I disagree with your assertion that Rick and I have "championed" it.)
We are all control systems governed by our goals, so we all have strong
preferences. But we can also reflect on and change those preferences up to a
point. The question here is not how to eliminate preferences from science,
but how to choose them wisely.
"Being wrong" is not the same as "arriving at the wrong answer." One can
desire to "be right" so much that arriving at a wrong answer is equivalent
to personal invalidation. When being right becomes a matter of personal
integrity, pride, prestige, intellectual ascendancy, well-being, reputation,
ability to earn a living, and other such things, one paradoxically loses the
ability to look for right answers. One starts to prefer being right to
knowing the truth. This is what I mean by choosing our preferences wisely:
that is an unwise choice. It makes science impossible, or at least cripples
the endeavor.
Finally, just to clarify, I made no assertion that humans are the highest
form of life. I only said that there is something qualitatively special
about culture and the concepts by which it occurs. But since you (sort
of) asked, I do think that this specialness has ethical aspects which
transcend humanity. Highest? Hard to guess. Good? Precious? Yes.
So you are telling me that that's the answer you strongly prefer. But what
was the question? It seems to me that posing the question carefully is much
more important than picking an answer that seems -- from our position of
ignorance -- to be preferable, and then trying to defend it. You put
yourself in the position of making an assertion based on -- what, a general
feeling about the matter? Experience? Intuition? Inspiration? And what if it
should turn out that you're mistaken about this? In that case, YOU, not the
answer, would be mistaken. You would become a "wrong person." You would have
to start doubting your own ability to reason. That is how being right
becomes more important than knowing the truth.
"Knowing the truth," of course, is matter of criteria of truth, and criteria
of truth are premises that we have accepted as axiomatic or beyond
reasonable question. But there are different ways of establishing premises.
One is the closed-loop way: we can explore premises until we find a set that
makes a particular conclusion true. This is how we invent things: the
conclusion is "I have a better mousetrap" and the problem is to find (or
create) those premises which, if true, would lead to that conclusion. The
other way is to compare the premises directly with observation: the premise
is "men have more teeth than women," and the way to check it is to go around
asking people to open their mouths. When we are exploring nature, of course,
the first way is cheating; we can't invent the universe to suit our foregone
conclusions. Yet people continuously try to do this.
Is there anything special about human culture and human values? Good
question. Would we like to know the answer? I presume that others beside me
would say yes. So how do we go about finding it? By saying "NO" and then
trying to prove we are right, or by saying "YES" and then trying to prove we
are right? What's wrong with admitting that we don't know which is the
answer, or which answer would be best for us, and just trying to find out?
That's what I mean by "not caring." I mean simply wanting to know the answer
and being confident that whichever way it turns out, we can cope with it.
Best,
Bill P.
from Tracy Harms (970309.0900 PST) (still neglecting to perceive the comet)
Bill Powers (970308.waiting for comet)
I agree with you that scientific detachment -- "objectivity" -- is a myth.
(And I disagree with your assertion that Rick and I have "championed" it.)
Great. Glad to discover that my assertion was wrong.
We are all control systems governed by our goals, so we all have strong
preferences. But we can also reflect on and change those preferences up to a
point. The question here is not how to eliminate preferences from science,
but how to choose them wisely.
Agreed. I think our clash arose because I see that this choosing is never
"from scratch". That is, we cannot assure ourselves of a good starting
place; we must choose from the place that we are.
One can desire to "be right" so much that arriving at a wrong answer is
equivalent to personal invalidation. [...] One starts to prefer being right
to knowing the truth. This is what I mean by choosing our preferences
wisely: that is an unwise choice. It makes science impossible, or at least
cripples the endeavor.
Agreed. This is an important point.
"Knowing the truth," of course, is matter of criteria of truth, and criteria
of truth are premises that we have accepted as axiomatic or beyond
reasonable question.
I wholly reject that knowledge is a matter of criteria of truth.
I mean simply wanting to know the answer and being confident
that whichever way it turns out, we can cope with it.
This, however, receives my full accord.
Tracy Bruce Harms
harms@hackvan.com
[From Bill Powers (970309.1011 MST)]
Tracy Harms (970309.0900 PST) (still neglecting to perceive the comet)
"Knowing the truth," of course, is matter of criteria of truth, and
criteria of truth are premises that we have accepted as axiomatic or
beyond reasonable question.I wholly reject that knowledge is a matter of criteria of truth.
That seems so strange to me that I suspect a misunderstanding. It seems to
me that knowledge is always contingent on our assumptions; the density of
mercury is 13 _if I have measured it right_, the length if that book is 9
inches _if my ruler is properly calibrated_, and so on. Knowledge isn't
simply given in a vacuum; it's related to other knowledge, and to our
methods of measurement and reasoning. We can never just say "that's true."
We always say "that's true, if x, y, and z are also true". The x, y, and z,
and the process of reasoning that uses them, are what I mean by criteria of
truth.
Maybe I'm just not thinking in the right categories. Can you give me an
example of knowledge that isn't dependent on criteria of truth?
Best,
Bill P.