Showing posts with label Relativism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Relativism. Show all posts

Monday, March 7, 2016

Achieving a human understanding

A quote from Marie Curie referenced by Felipe Fernàndez-Armesto in his book "A Foot in the River":

"There is nothing to be feared. It is only to be understood.
Another by Isaiah Berlin who explains why we should accept and adopt pluralism:
There is a plurality of values, which men can and do seek...And the difference it makes is that if a man pursues one of these values, I, who do not, am able to understand why he pursues it or what it would be like, in his circumstances, for me to be induced to pursue it. Hence the possibility of human understanding."
Felipe Fernàndez-Armesto goes on:
This position differs from cultural relativism. It does not say, for instance, that all cultures can be accommodated. One might exclude Nazism, say, or cannibalism. It leaves open the possibility of peaceful argument about which culture, if any, is best. It claims, in Berlin's words, 'that the multitude values are objective, part of the essence of humanity rather than arbitrary creations of men's subjective fancies'."
(All quotes are from Chapter 8, "Towards the planet of apes")

See also this old blog post that is relevant to this topic.

Saturday, January 17, 2009

The anthropic principle and the evolution of the universes

This is a short note on the current controversies concerning the formation of our Universe, developed in the book What is your dangerous idea?. Recent research has come to the conclusion that for our present Universe to exist, the so-called 'universal constants' have to have precise values, otherwise, the formation of galaxies and stars would not occur at a pace for life to exist. Furthermore, string theorists are discovering that there is not a single solution (and a unique set of 'universal' constants) but a 'landscape' approaching 10500 solutions and there are thus maybe many other universes with different constants that lay beyond the limit of our own!

Those conclusions, although yet highly speculative, are in the same time 'exciting and humbling' according to Brian Greene, and I would add unsettling for some. Why unsettling? First, because it poses the fundamental question of the existence of our Universe and why we were so lucky in the first place that life can exist. One rhetoric is to state that it is not really luckiness because if our Universe would have different 'universal' constants, life would not exist and we would not be here to complain that we were not lucky: this is the so-called anthropic principle.

The second and most unsettling point of those conclusions is the realization that the idea of a 'universal' set of laws that would dictates all universes, laws that are fundamental and are at the bottom and origin of everything, might not exist. Instead, these laws would be valid only locally and be pure environmental facts:

"Well, [thoses ideas] do threaten physicists' fondest hope-the hope that some extraordinarily beautiful mathematical principle will be discovered that would completely and uniquely explain every detail of the laws of particle physics.
[...] What further worries many physicists is that the landscape may be so rich that almost anything can be found-any combination of physical constants, particle masses, and so forth. This, they fear, would eliminate the predictive power of physics. Environmental facts are nothing more than environmental facts. They worry that if everything is possible, there will be no way to falsify the theory-or, more to the point, no way to confirm it."
Leonard Susskind, The "landscape", in What is your dangerous idea?
"The end of «fundamental» theoretical physics (the search for fundamental microphysical laws-there will still be lots of work for physicist who investigate the host of complex phenomena at larger scales) might very well occur not with a theory of everything but with the recognition that all so-called fundamental theories that describe nature are purely phenomenological-that is, derivable from observational phenomena-and don't reflect any underlying grand mathematical structure of the universe which would allow a basic understanding of why the universe is the way it is."
Laurence M. Krauss, The world may be fundamentally inexplicable, in What is your dangerous idea?

I will conclude with two other ideas that, without resolving the problem and erase any controversy, are not the less interesting. One, presented in the book by Paul Steinhardt, is to make the assumption that the 'universal' constants are not constant but vary slowly with time, so slowly that 1) our universe had time to have shrink and expand cyclically many times already (which would suggest that the Universe is much older than actually thought) and 2) we have not yet been able to measure their variation. Accepting this assumption avoid to call for other universes. Instead, one universe, our own, would slowly drift across different regimes of the 'landscape' and the one we are now is just the one at a particular time.

The second and bolder idea, presented by Lee Smolin, is to see our present universe and its 'universal' constants not as a result of chance, but a result of natural section. The idea is to apply Darwin's ideas of selection and co-evolution to even the fundamental laws and constants. If true, the theory poses, as usual, new questions; for instance, is there a meta-law, like the second law of thermodynamic, that would dictate how laws evolve? Smolin concludes that if the theory, which can be falsifiable, come to be true
"Einstein and Darwin will be understood as partners in the greatest revolution yet in science, a revolution that taught us that the world in which we are embedded is nothing but an ever-evolving network of relationships."
Lee Smolin, Seeing Darwin in the light of Enstein;seeing Einstein in the light of Darwin, What is your dangerous idea?

Friday, March 21, 2008

Definition of mass and force and the experimental support of the classic laws of mechanics

Henri Poincaré, one of the greatest mathematicians and rationalist of the 20th century, describes us in his little book, La science et l'hypothèse, how not only it appears at first difficult to define precisely what is mass and what is a force, but it is even impossible and one has to satisfy oneself only to axioms, that is to definitions which are not provable by experience.

Newton's famous law states that the force F is the product of the mass m and the acceleration a:


F = m . a.

According to Poincaré, all the great physicists have defined mass and force differently. For one physicist, mass is the density times the volume but for another one the density itself should be defined as the ratio of the mass to the volume. For another one, mass is the ratio of the force to the acceleration while for another one force is defined as mass times the acceleration. We are turning around and around.

Poincaré explains that for a definition to be useful and scientific, it needs to enable you to perform measurements:
"Quand on dit que la force est la cause d'un mouvement, on fait de la métaphysique, et cette définition, si on devait s'en contenter, serait absolument stérile. Pour qu'une définition puisse servir à quelque chose, il faut qu'elle nous apprenne à mesurer la force; cela suffit d'ailleurs, il n'est nullement nécessaire qu'elle nous apprenne ce que c'est que la force en soi, ni si elle est la cause ou l'effet d'un mouvement."
Poincaré goes on and explains that our experience gives us some ideas on how to measure a force in the case of an isolated system: we introduce the notion of the equality between action and reaction, we deduce that the centre of gravity of the isolated system has a rectilinear and uniform movement, etc. But because there is no perfectly isolated system, all of our deductions cannot be proven exactly by experience. The results of the experience will be close to our prediction but it will not be exact. Without surprise, because we know that, besides the entire Universe, there is no perfectly isolated system.

Thus, did we achieve anything? We have invented some principles using our experience but these principles cannot strictly be proven by experience. Our sole remedy, according to Poincaré is to take these principles as axioms, which would be true and provable by experience if we have a perfectly isolated system:
"Les principles de la dynamique nous apparaissaient d'abord comme des vérités expérimentales; mais nous avons été obligés de nous en servir comme définitions. C'est par définition que la force est égale au produit de la masse par l'accélération; voilà un principe qui est désormais hors de l'atteinte d'aucune expérience ultérieure. C'est de même par définition que l'action est égale à la réaction."
Thus, "[le principe de l'égalité de l'action et de la réaction] ne devrait être plus regardé comme une loi expérimentale, mais comme une définition." Furthermore, masses are only coefficients that have been introduced in the calculation: "les masses sont des coefficients qu'il est commode d'introduire dans les calculs." Indeed, Poincaré states, we could have chosen different values for the mass without contradicting the fundamental principles. The calculation would have been harder to perform, that's all.

One can wonder if all of this is useful? The answer is yes because although we cannot prove exactly the principles and axioms we have stated, the results of our prediction match almost perfectly the results of experience because in reality, many systems are almost isolated. This success should be enough -but is it?- to prevent existentialists, irrationalists and (cultural) relativists to state that science proves that no knowledge is attainable. Almost perfect knowledge is attainable, that is what Poincaré tells us. The fact that our knowledge is imperfect should in the same time reconcile everyone: that imperfection is maybe that little freedom of will, that little irrationality that little je ne sais quoi which is so important to fuel our imagination and creation. But maybe I already went too far...

(all quotations are from Chapter 6 La mécanique classique in La science et l'hypothèse)

Friday, March 14, 2008

Euclidian or non-euclidian geometry?

Euclidian geometry is a geometry familiar to us: only one line can go through two points, the straight line is the shortest path, etc. But there are other geometries which are non-euclidian. One example is the geometry over a sphere. In this case, an infinity of lines can go through two points and the straight line is not the shortest path.

Henri Poincaré asks the question if our experience can prove that the euclidian geometry is true, the non-euclidian ones wrong. The surprising answer is that actually our experience is unable to make the difference and in this sense, no geometry is more true than another. In his own words:

"Il est donc impossible d'imaginer une expérience concrète qui puisse être interprétée dans le système euclidien et qui ne puisse pas l'être dans le système lobatchevskien [on a sphere], de sorte que je puis conclure:
Aucune expérience ne sera jamais en contradiction avec le postulatum d'Euclide; en revanche aucune expérience ne sera jamais en contradiction avec le postulatum de Lobatchevsky."
Interesting to know that there is not an absolute in geometry as well.

Thursday, February 28, 2008

The respective role of science and art

This is a difficult subject mixing neurobiology with the interpretation of art. Edward O. Wilson offers, however, a simple distinction between science and art. Science can translate a certain perception into another language. "We [humans] can translate the energies of magnetism and electricity into sight and sound, the sensory modalities we biologically possess. We can read the active neural circuits of bees and fish by scanning their sense organs and brains". By doing so, we can then know what type of perception all species possess assuming that each perception corresponds to a specific and different neural activity.

But what science cannot translate is the feeling of the perception. We will a priori never be able to feel the magnetic and electric perceptions of the bees and fish. We can imagine it. We can study it. But we cannot experience it. "But", as Edward O. Wilson emphasizes, "incapacity is not the point" as art fulfils another role. "Art [...] transmits feelings among persons of the same capacity. In other words, science explains feeling, while art transmits it."

But Wilson wonders "how can we know for sure that art communicates this way with accuracy, that people really, truly feel the same in the presence of art?". My personal answer to this question is: who cares? Do we have to know if the feeling transmitted by art is the same for every person? As long as something is transmitted, as long as art triggers some kind of reaction, a good or a bad feeling, as long as an original message has been sent and received, that is what matters according to me. But this is my usual romantic definition of art. A bit anarchic and maybe too relativistic.

But what if art does transmits the same feeling? what a victory for a universal language. Wilson thinks that it is indeed the case. And how do we know it? "We know it intuitively by the sheer weight of our cumulative responses through the many media of art. We know it by detailed verbal descriptions of emotion, by critical analyses, and in fact through the data from all the vast, nuanced and interlocking armamentaria of the humanities".

A difficult and fascinating subject indeed.

Friday, November 30, 2007

An unlikely place for a confrontation between universalism and complexity

I found a very sensitive illustration of the confrontation between universalism/reductionism and complexity/relativism in a quite unlikely place. André Gorz writes in Lettre à D., Histoire d'un amour about the different way his wife, an englishwoman, and himself, influenced by French universalism, used to think:

"J'avais besoin de théorie pour structurer ma pensée et t'objectais qu'une pensée non structurée menace toujours de sombrer dans l'empirisme et l'insignifiance. Tu répondais que la théorie menace toujours de devenir un carcan qui interdit de percevoir la complexité mouvante du réel."
How lucid this statement is!

See also this post about the same confrontation.

Monday, October 1, 2007

universality versus relativism, reductionism versus complexity

This is an ambitious post and the topics are larger than life but I would like to share here some thoughts from The moment of complexity by Mark. C. Taylor. At the beginning of his essay, Taylor gives us an original account of the history of the debate on, let's say it, how to see the world: are there universal laws or is everything relative - culturally rather than physically speaking? what is the correct method to comprehend Nature, reduce the problem to a series of simple problem or see it as a whole? These are of course very general and deep questions, which may have as many answers as sand grain on a beach. But this does not prevent us to, at least, discuss about it.

Taylor details the philosophy of several intellectuals, among whom that of Lévi-Strauss. Lévi-Strauss is an advocate of universal laws and a reductionist view of the human culture. He is quoted saying:

"By drawing up an inventory of all the customs that had been observed, all those imagined in myths, those evoked in the games of children and adults, and the dreams of healthy and sick individuals and psychopathological behaviors, one would be able to draw up a period table like that of the chemical elements, in which all real or merely possible customs would appear grouped in families, and in which we would simply need to recognize those which societies have in fact adopted.
(Lévi-Strauss, quoted in The moment of complexity by Mark. C. Taylor, chapter 2; italics are mine)

There are many advocates of the other point of view, one of them, and maybe not the most clearer one according to Taylor, is Foucault. Foucault does not deny there are some kind of universal laws but he insists that these laws have been constructed within our own cultural frame, so that these laws are not, I will dare to say it, "universal enough":
"[W]hile admitting that there is an «order of things», he insists that this order is neither natural nor essential and thus cannot be preordained or unchanging. Whatever order is at work the world is historically contingent and therefore to a certain extent arbitrary."
(Mark C. Taylor, The moment of complexity, chapter 2)

This debate is typical between the scientist who applies reductionism in a professional way, and the humanist who restrains himself from doing so. Taylor writes "[w]hile certain scientists tend to reduce culture to nature, many humanists defiantly reduce nature to culture" (Mark C. Taylor,The moment of complexity, chapter 7). For the former, the understanding of human culture and its psychology is attainable from the study of the building blocks that are the genes: you have or have not the gene of painting, singing, writing, seeing the world this way and not this way etc. For the later, nature itself is a psychological construction different between individuals so that little can be said in general.

For Edward O. Wilson, reductionism, far from denying the complexity of nature, should rather be seen as a tool, not a philosophy or a statement about the world. For him, reductionism is "the search strategy employed to find points of entry into otherwise impenetrably complex systems. Complexity is what interests scientists in the end, not simplicity" (Edward O. Wilson, Consilience: the unity of knowledge, cited in The moment of complexity, chapter 2). Edward O. Wilson adds the following lucid statement:
"The love of complexity without reductionism makes art; the love of complexity with reductionism makes science."
A sensible illustration of such confrontation is also amazingly found in Lettre à D., Histoire d'un amour by André Gorz writing about the different way his wife, an englishwoman, and himself, influenced by French universalism, think:
"J'avais besoin de théorie pour structurer ma pensée et t'objectais qu'une pensée non structurée menace toujours de sombrer dans l'empirisme et l'insignifiance. Tu répondais que la théorie menace toujours de devenir un carcan qui interdit de percevoir la complexité mouvante du réel."
Although I have a lot of respect about critics of science, because as Descartes said we should always doubt, I have to admit that Edward O. Wilson's view seems correct. As again and again, the conclusion from this debate is not so much that one side is necessarily correct and the other wrong, but that each point of view is adapted to different situations or goals.

To conclude this little post, I would like to bring to your attention that according to Marc C. Taylor, it is possible to go beyond this classic debate. One of the mind-blowing example is the feedback that an idea can have on the brain itself. For instance, in linguistic, there is an academic school which thinks that the brain developed also from the use of the words themselves. Terrence Deacon writes that "the major structural and functional innovations that make human brains capable of unprecedented mental feats evolved in response to the use of something as abstract and virtual as the power of words" (T. Deacon, The coevolution of language and the brain, cited in The moment of complexity, chapter 7). James Gardner says also that "information can and does flow upstream into the genome from the particular extended phenotype we know as human civilization" (cited in The moment of complexity, chapter 7).

Applied to the debate surrounding reductionism as I understand it, the simple schema the scientific community chooses to describe Nature would have a certain effect on the brain over time, would physiologically improve it so that the brains of the scientists would come up with a new schema, more adapted to the world. In some way, it is true that the view of science has evolved and still evolves dramatically ; the idea here is that the improvement in the description of Nature has not been completely independent of the previous descriptions; in other words, the description of the world at a certain time has helped to shape the new description at a later time via a physiological change of the brain itself. In this case, reductionism still is the basic tool to comprehend Nature, but the reductionist schema has some internal subjectivity associated with the physiological limits of the brain. I do not know how far this is accepted but it is true that, if correct, it enlarges the debate and may bring possibilities to accommodate both the scientist and the humanist.

Monday, June 4, 2007

Cultural relativism according to Herder

"What is the ideal form of life? We cannot be both Greek and Phoenician and medieval, and Eastern and Western, and Northern and Southern. We cannot attain to the highest ideals of all centuries and all places at onces."
Isaiah Berlin, The Roots of Romanticism, The True Fathers of Romanticism

We might be not be able to understand anymore the mind of the Greeks, but I still would believe that we can understand the minds of other peoples which are our contemporaries. In the first case, you cannot experience anymore the life of the Greeks beyond their writings, which are an imperfect - but still rich - way to know a people. In the second case, you can become or try to become one of them, although you might never be entirely accepted by the visited communauty, except if you are one these excentric English travelers ready to disguise to discover what is officially forbidden to the foreign.