I don’t think I am. He says, “You need to read the classics.” I say, “No, I just need to know their key insights.”
I further say that people who think you need to read a particular classic are typically wrong, as others have assimilated its insights—and become capable of discussing the related issues—without having to read it.
How is that not responsive? Where do I make an issue of reverence for authorities?
OK, “reverence for authorities” might a red herring here. Please disregard that and accept a fractional apology; I think my observation still stands.
Robin’s saying “the expected value of your reading (something like) a classic is higher than the expected value of equivalent time spent reading (something like) my blog”.
He isn’t saying “you need to read the classics (and nothing else will do)”, in spite of what the title says. You sound as if you’re reacting to the title only—and an idiosyncratic reading of it at that.
Your point regarding a specific article—Coase’s—may have merit. Some issues you need to consider are:
Reading a primary source often allows you to understand how it has been misunderstood; there is a (ahem) classic example in the field of software engineering, where for years the article cited as the primary inspiration for the well-known “waterfall lifecycle” was Winston Royce 1970; it turns out, when you actually read the article, that it condemns the waterfall cycle as oversimplistic and unworkable—here we have a misunderstanding with a cost measured in billions and attributable to failure to read the classics carefully.
As a corollary, modern popularizations of a classic may contain distortions due to the popularizer’s various other biases, including poor skill at explaining; just as much as they may enhance the value of the classic by providing a streamlined explanation; how are you to sort one from the other?
A distilled explanation of the insight from a classic strips it of all the anecdotes and background material which lent the insight force in the first place; that may be valuable and, depending on your purpose, even more valuable than reading the primary source, but it doesn’t convey the same understanding; your grasp on why the insight has force may be shakier than if you’d read the primary source. There’s often a trade-off between time spent acquiring an insight and depth of understanding. (Admittedly, this trade-off can be substantially modified by the time you spent exercising the insight.)
Another respondent on Robin’s blog says “Pfui, blogs have led me to classics”. Well, that point doesn’t work if all you ever read are blogs, showing precisely how I suspect folks are misunderstanding Robin’s point.
What Robin says is that there is a hierarchy of sources of knowledge, not all are worth the same, and it’s unwise to spend all your time on secondary or tertiary (etc.) sources that (often) are lesser sources of intellectual nourishment. In short, there’s a reason the classics are acknowledged as such.
In short, there’s a reason the classics are acknowledged as such.
It would astound me if this reason was that they were the optimal source of educational. That would completely shake my entire understanding of the fairness of the universe.
Better than the classics are the later sources that cover the same material once the culture has had a chance to fully process the insights and experiment with the best way to understand them. You pick the sources that become popular and respected despite not having the prestige of being the ‘first one to get really popular in the area’. You want the best, not the ‘first famous’ and shouldn’t expect that to be the same source. After all, the author of the Classic had to do all the hard work of thinking of the ideas in the first place… we can’t expect him to also manage to perfect the expression of them and teach them in the most effective manner. Give the poor guy a break!
Reading Dawkins may be more effective than reading Darwin, to appreciate descent with modification and differential survival as an optimization algorithm.
Reading Darwin may be more effective than reading Dawkins, to appreciate what intellectual work went into following contemporary evidence to that conclusion, in the face of a world filled with bias and confusion.
Reading Dawkins OR Darwin is—and I think that is Robin’s point—more valuable than the same time spent reading blogs expounding shaky speculations on evolution.
a “just the insights” version will probably leave out any caveats
Spectacularly so in the case of the Waterfall software development process. It’s as if the “classic” in question had said “Drowning kittens” at the end of page 1, and of course the beginning of page 2 goes right on to say ”...is evil, don’t do it”. But everyone reads page one which has a lovely diagram and goes, “Oh yeah; drowning kittens. Wonderful idea, let’s make that the official government norm for feline management.”
Reading Dawkins OR Darwin is—and I think that is Robin’s point—more valuable than the same time spent reading blogs expounding shaky speculations on evolution.
100% agree that is Robin’s point and another 100% with Robin’s point. Hmm. Wrong place to throw 100% around. Let’s see… 99.5% and 83% respectively. Akrasia considerations and the intrinsic benefits of the social experience of engaging with a near-in-time social network account for the other 17%.
You seem to be missing the examples at the moment, but I’ll give one… it’s damn hard to learn relativity by reading Einstein’s original papers. Your average undergraduate textbook gives a much better explanation of special relativity.
On the other hand, when it comes to studying history, sometimes classics are still the best sources. For example, when it comes to the Peloponnesian War, everything written by anyone other than Thucydides is merely footnotes.
Robin’s saying “the expected value of your reading (something like) a classic is higher than the expected value of equivalent time spent reading (something like) my blog”.
He isn’t saying “you need to read the classics (and nothing else will do)”, in spite of what the title says. You sound as if you’re reacting to the title only—and an idiosyncratic reading of it at that.
No, I think I addressed the broader point he was making, not just the title: He’s saying, don’t just rely on blog posts and blog comment exchanges—actually read the classic works. This would imply that these blog discussions suffer from lack of appreciation of certain classics that imparted Serious knowledge.
I disputed this diagnosis of the problem. The phenomenon Robin_Hanson describes is more due to experts not understanding their own topics, and not communicating the fruits of these classics. The proper response to this, I contend, is not to wade through classics, hoping to be able to sort the good from the bad. Rather, it’s for those who are aware of the classics’ insights to understand and present them where applicable.
In other words, not to do what Gene Callahan does in the (corrected) link.
This is why I challenged Robin_Hanson to say what he’s doing about it: if people really are stumbling along, unaware of some classic writer’s insight on the matter, a work that just completely enlightens and clarifies the debate, what is he doing to make sure these insights are applied to the relevant issue? That is how you establish the worth of classics, by repeated ability to obviate debates that people get into when they aren’t familiar with them.
It’s true that in reading works that draw from the classics, you have to separate the good from the bad, but you have to do that anyway—and classics will typically have a lot of bad with the good.
If classics are higher up on the hierarchy, it is specific classics that are known for being completely good, or for because their bad part is known and articulated to the learner in advance. But that requires advising of specific classics, not telling someone to read classics in general.
Keep in mind, you were my example of someone failing to learn the best arguments against gay rights, despite a sincere effort to find them. The experts either didn’t understand the arguments, or weren’t able to apply them in discussions. How many (additional!) classics would you need to have read to be enlightened about this?
But that requires advising of specific classics, not telling someone to read classics in general.
Perhaps we’re actually on the same page there. I don’t think Robin was saying “read classics in general”, so much as “go and spend some quality time with what you’d think is a truly awesome classic”. If he had been saying “go and spend time reading classics just because they had the ‘classic’ label stamped on them” I’d also disagree with him.
One issue is that judgments of “intellectually nutritious” vary from person to person in extremely idiosyncratic ways. For instance I’m currently reading Wilson and Sperber’s Relevance which comes heartily recommended by Cosma Shalizi but is more or less boring me to death. You never know in advance which book is going to shake your world-view to its foundations.
Keep in mind, you were my example of someone failing to learn the best arguments against gay rights, despite a sincere effort to find them. [...] How many (additional!) classics would you need to have read to be enlightened about this?
Maybe we need to make a distinction here between one-topic classics and broader-ranging, multi-topic classics. What I would need (and love) to read is the “Gödel, Escher, Bach” of moral theories. :)
But while I derived nourishment from Rawls Theory of Justice I wouldn’t necessarily seek out “classics” of communautarism (or other traditions making a strong case against e.g. gay rights), because I don’t feel that dire a need to expose my ideas on moral theories to contradiction. I’d be keen to get that contradiction in smaller and more pre-digested doses.
Usually when I have identified a topic as really, really important I find it worthwhile to round out my understanding of it by going back to primary or early sources, if only because every later commentator is implicitly referring back to them, even if “between the lines”.
I also seek out the “classic” in a field when my own ideas stand in stark opposition to those attributed to that field. For instance I read F.W. Taylor’s original “Scientific Management” book because I spent quite a bit of energy criticizing “Taylorism”, and to criticize something effectively it’s judicious to do everything you can not to misrepresent it.
Well, I’m not sure where we agree or don’t now. We certainly agree here:
But while I derived nourishment from Rawls Theory of Justice I wouldn’t necessarily seek out “classics” of communautarism (or other traditions making a strong case against e.g. gay rights), because I don’t feel that dire a need to expose my ideas on moral theories to contradiction. I’d be keen to get that contradiction in smaller and more pre-digested doses.
Yes, yes you should learn about these contradictions of your worldview from summaries of the insights that go against it.
But you also say:
I don’t think Robin was saying “read classics in general”, so much as “go and spend some quality time with what you’d think is a truly awesome classic”. If he had been saying “go and spend time reading classics just because they had the ‘classic’ label stamped on them” I’d also disagree with him.
But what’s the difference? If I’m already so lacking as to need to read (more) classics, how would I even know which classics are worth it? He gives no advice in this respect, and if he did, I wouldn’t be so critical. But then it would be an issue about whether people should read this or that book, not about “classics” as such.
Usually when I have identified a topic as really, really important I find it worthwhile to round out my understanding of it by going back to primary or early sources, if only because every later commentator is implicitly referring back to them, even if “between the lines”.
Did you regard gay rights as really, really important?
I also seek out the “classic” in a field when my own ideas stand in stark opposition to those attributed to that field. For instance I read F.W. Taylor’s original “Scientific Management” book because I spent quite a bit of energy criticizing “Taylorism”, and to criticize something effectively it’s judicious to do everything you can not to misrepresent it.
And at times we also discover that the eponymous mascot’s actual ideas are quite a lot different to those that we are rejecting. Then at least we know to always direct the criticisms at “Taylorism” and never “Taylor” (depending whether the mascot in question shares the insanity.)
You’d need to spell out more precisely what he’s doing that you think deserves criticism.
Interestingly I seem to have read quite a few of the “classics” that come up in that discussion on “what science does”. Polanyi’s Personal Knowledge, Feyerabend’s Against Method, Lakatos’ Proofs and Refutations, Kuhn’s Structure of Scientific Revolutions. Not Popper however—I’ve read The Open Society but not his other works.
Given your stance on “explaining” those strike me as good examples of the kind of stuff you might want to have read because that would leave you in a better position to criticize what you’re criticizing: less prone to misrepresenting it. (As for me, I’m now investing a lot of time and energy into this “Bayesian” stuff, which definitely is sort of a counterpoint to my prior leanings.)
You’d need to spell out more precisely what [Gene Callahan]’s doing that you think deserves criticism.
Exactly what I referred to in the previous paragraph.
it’s [up to] those who are aware of the classics’ insights to understand and present them where applicable.
Callahan is, supposedly, aware of these classics’ insights. Did he present them where applicable? Show evidence he understands them? No. Every time he drops the name of a great author or a classic, he fails to put the argument in his own words, sketch it out, or show its applicability to the arguments under discussion.
For example, he drops the remark that “Polanyi showed that crystallography is an a priori science [in the sense that Austrian economics is]” as if it were conclusively settled. Then, when I explain why this can’t possibly be the case, Callahan is unable to provide any further elaboration of why that is (and I couldn’t find a reference to it anywhere).
The problem, I contend, is therefore on his end. To the extent that Callahan’s list of classics is relevant, and that he is a majestic bearer of this deep, hard-won knowledge, he is unable to actually show how the classics are relevant, and what amazing arguments are presented in them that obviate our discussion. The duty falls on him to make them relevant, not for everyone else to just go out and read everything he has, just because he thinks, in all his gullible wisdom, that it will totally convince us.
Note: I wasn’t alone in noticing Callahan’s refusal to engage. Another poster remarked:
Gene, The problems with appeals to authority are, 1) as you point out, not everyone may be familiar with the work of the authority, 2) the ‘authority’ may actually not be one (see Silas’ comments on crystallography), and 3) it’s a substitute for actually making an argument. It’s easy, and pointless, to simply say ‘other people have shown you’re wrong’. But if you present an argument then we can discuss it’s merits and flaws. …
See, that’s how discussion works. If you have a position, just explain it! Then we can talk about it.
With regard to the books you mention: what little I have read about them, they aren’t impressive or promising. For example, Feyerabend seems to think he has some great insight that good scientific theories don’t have to incorporate the old theory, but rather, the normally make progress by ignoring the old. But he’s attacking a strawman: new theories aren’t expected to incorporate the old theory, just to be able to make the same predictions. [EDIT: Sorry, original version didn’t have the complete sentence.]
Also, people like to make a big deal about how clever Quine’s holism argument is, but if you’re at all familiar with Bayesianism, you roll your eyes at it. Yes, theories can’t be tested in isolation, but Bayesian inference can tell you which beliefs are most strongly weakened by which evidence, showing that you have a basis for saying which theory was, in effect, tested by the observations.
Things like these make me skeptical of those who claim that these philosophers have something worthwhile to say to me about science. I would rather focus on reading the epistemology of those who are actually making real, unfakeable, un-groupthinkable progress, like Sebastian Thrun and Judea Pearl.
I think Lakatos, Proofs and Refutations is a fun book, but the chief thing I learned from it is that mathematical proofs aren’t absolutely true, even when there is no error in reasoning. It’s about mathematics, not science. It’s also quite short, particularly if you skip the second, much more mathematically-involved dialogue.
I learned the opposite: that mathematical proofs can be and should be absolutely true. When they fall short, it is a sign that some confusion still remains in the concepts.
I said mathematical proofs aren’t absolute because mathematical proofs and refutations are subject to philosophical, linguistic debate—argument about whether the proof fits the concept being played with, argument which can result in (for example) proof-constructed definitions. During this process, one might say that the original proof or refutation is correct, but no longer appropriate, or that the original proof is incorrect. Neither statement implies different behavior.
For example, he drops the remark that “Polanyi showed that crystallography is an a priori science [in the sense that Austrian economics is]” as if it were conclusively settled.
You’re basically doing the same when you name-drop “a Bayesian revival in the sciences”. I’ve been here for months trying to figure out what the hell people mean by “Bayesian” and frankly feel little the wiser. It’s interesting to me, so I keep digging, but clearly explained? Give me a break. :)
I found Polanyi somewhat obscure (all that I could conclude from Personal Knowledge was that I was totally devoid of spiritual knowledge), so I won’t defend him. But one point that keeps coming up is that if you look closely, anything that people have so far come up with that purports to be a “methodological rule of science”, can be falsified by looking at one scientist or another, doing something that their peers are happy to call perfectly good science, yet violates one part or another of the supposed “methodology”.
As an example being impartial certainly isn’t required to do good science; you can start out having a hunch and being damn sure your hunch is correct, and the energy to devise clever ways to turn your hunch into a workable theory lets you succeed where others don’t even acknowledge there is a problem to be solved. Semmelweis seems to be a good example of an opinionated scientist. Or maybe Seth Roberts.
You’re basically doing the same when you name-drop “a Bayesian revival in the sciences”.
That’s not remotely the same thing—I wasn’t bringing that up as some kind of substantiation for any argument, while Callahan was mentioning the thing about “a priori crystallography” (???) as an argument.
But one point that keeps coming up is that if you look closely, anything that people have so far come up with that purports to be a “methodological rule of science”, can be falsified by looking at one scientist or another, doing something that their peers are happy to call perfectly good science, yet violates one part or another of the supposed “methodology”.
So? I was arguing about what deserves to be called science, not what happens to be called science. And yes, people practice “ideal science” imperfectly, but that’s no evidence against the validity of the ideal, any more than it’s a criticism of circles that no one ever uses a perfect one. Furthermore, every time someone points to one of these counterexamples, it happens to be at best a strawman view. Like what you do here:
As an example being impartial certainly isn’t required to do good science; you can start out having a hunch and being damn sure your hunch is correct, …
The claim isn’t that you have to be impartial, but that you must adhere to a method that will filter out your partiality. That is, there has to be something that can distinguish your method from groupthink, from decreeing something true merely because you have a gentleman’s agreement not to contradict it.
I don’t think I am. He says, “You need to read the classics.” I say, “No, I just need to know their key insights.”
I further say that people who think you need to read a particular classic are typically wrong, as others have assimilated its insights—and become capable of discussing the related issues—without having to read it.
How is that not responsive? Where do I make an issue of reverence for authorities?
OK, “reverence for authorities” might a red herring here. Please disregard that and accept a fractional apology; I think my observation still stands.
Robin’s saying “the expected value of your reading (something like) a classic is higher than the expected value of equivalent time spent reading (something like) my blog”.
He isn’t saying “you need to read the classics (and nothing else will do)”, in spite of what the title says. You sound as if you’re reacting to the title only—and an idiosyncratic reading of it at that.
Your point regarding a specific article—Coase’s—may have merit. Some issues you need to consider are:
Reading a primary source often allows you to understand how it has been misunderstood; there is a (ahem) classic example in the field of software engineering, where for years the article cited as the primary inspiration for the well-known “waterfall lifecycle” was Winston Royce 1970; it turns out, when you actually read the article, that it condemns the waterfall cycle as oversimplistic and unworkable—here we have a misunderstanding with a cost measured in billions and attributable to failure to read the classics carefully.
As a corollary, modern popularizations of a classic may contain distortions due to the popularizer’s various other biases, including poor skill at explaining; just as much as they may enhance the value of the classic by providing a streamlined explanation; how are you to sort one from the other?
A distilled explanation of the insight from a classic strips it of all the anecdotes and background material which lent the insight force in the first place; that may be valuable and, depending on your purpose, even more valuable than reading the primary source, but it doesn’t convey the same understanding; your grasp on why the insight has force may be shakier than if you’d read the primary source. There’s often a trade-off between time spent acquiring an insight and depth of understanding. (Admittedly, this trade-off can be substantially modified by the time you spent exercising the insight.)
Another respondent on Robin’s blog says “Pfui, blogs have led me to classics”. Well, that point doesn’t work if all you ever read are blogs, showing precisely how I suspect folks are misunderstanding Robin’s point.
What Robin says is that there is a hierarchy of sources of knowledge, not all are worth the same, and it’s unwise to spend all your time on secondary or tertiary (etc.) sources that (often) are lesser sources of intellectual nourishment. In short, there’s a reason the classics are acknowledged as such.
It would astound me if this reason was that they were the optimal source of educational. That would completely shake my entire understanding of the fairness of the universe.
Better than the classics are the later sources that cover the same material once the culture has had a chance to fully process the insights and experiment with the best way to understand them. You pick the sources that become popular and respected despite not having the prestige of being the ‘first one to get really popular in the area’. You want the best, not the ‘first famous’ and shouldn’t expect that to be the same source. After all, the author of the Classic had to do all the hard work of thinking of the ideas in the first place… we can’t expect him to also manage to perfect the expression of them and teach them in the most effective manner. Give the poor guy a break!
As an example,
Reading Dawkins may be more effective than reading Darwin, to appreciate descent with modification and differential survival as an optimization algorithm.
Reading Darwin may be more effective than reading Dawkins, to appreciate what intellectual work went into following contemporary evidence to that conclusion, in the face of a world filled with bias and confusion.
Reading Dawkins OR Darwin is—and I think that is Robin’s point—more valuable than the same time spent reading blogs expounding shaky speculations on evolution.
I’m underlining your point about Darwin—just getting the insights doesn’t give you information about the process of thinking them out.
Also, a “just the insights” version will probably leave out any caveats the originator of the insights included.
Spectacularly so in the case of the Waterfall software development process. It’s as if the “classic” in question had said “Drowning kittens” at the end of page 1, and of course the beginning of page 2 goes right on to say ”...is evil, don’t do it”. But everyone reads page one which has a lovely diagram and goes, “Oh yeah; drowning kittens. Wonderful idea, let’s make that the official government norm for feline management.”
100% agree that is Robin’s point and another 100% with Robin’s point. Hmm. Wrong place to throw 100% around. Let’s see… 99.5% and 83% respectively. Akrasia considerations and the intrinsic benefits of the social experience of engaging with a near-in-time social network account for the other 17%.
You seem to be missing the examples at the moment, but I’ll give one… it’s damn hard to learn relativity by reading Einstein’s original papers. Your average undergraduate textbook gives a much better explanation of special relativity.
On the other hand, when it comes to studying history, sometimes classics are still the best sources. For example, when it comes to the Peloponnesian War, everything written by anyone other than Thucydides is merely footnotes.
No, I think I addressed the broader point he was making, not just the title: He’s saying, don’t just rely on blog posts and blog comment exchanges—actually read the classic works. This would imply that these blog discussions suffer from lack of appreciation of certain classics that imparted Serious knowledge.
I disputed this diagnosis of the problem. The phenomenon Robin_Hanson describes is more due to experts not understanding their own topics, and not communicating the fruits of these classics. The proper response to this, I contend, is not to wade through classics, hoping to be able to sort the good from the bad. Rather, it’s for those who are aware of the classics’ insights to understand and present them where applicable.
In other words, not to do what Gene Callahan does in the (corrected) link.
This is why I challenged Robin_Hanson to say what he’s doing about it: if people really are stumbling along, unaware of some classic writer’s insight on the matter, a work that just completely enlightens and clarifies the debate, what is he doing to make sure these insights are applied to the relevant issue? That is how you establish the worth of classics, by repeated ability to obviate debates that people get into when they aren’t familiar with them.
It’s true that in reading works that draw from the classics, you have to separate the good from the bad, but you have to do that anyway—and classics will typically have a lot of bad with the good.
If classics are higher up on the hierarchy, it is specific classics that are known for being completely good, or for because their bad part is known and articulated to the learner in advance. But that requires advising of specific classics, not telling someone to read classics in general.
Keep in mind, you were my example of someone failing to learn the best arguments against gay rights, despite a sincere effort to find them. The experts either didn’t understand the arguments, or weren’t able to apply them in discussions. How many (additional!) classics would you need to have read to be enlightened about this?
Perhaps we’re actually on the same page there. I don’t think Robin was saying “read classics in general”, so much as “go and spend some quality time with what you’d think is a truly awesome classic”. If he had been saying “go and spend time reading classics just because they had the ‘classic’ label stamped on them” I’d also disagree with him.
One issue is that judgments of “intellectually nutritious” vary from person to person in extremely idiosyncratic ways. For instance I’m currently reading Wilson and Sperber’s Relevance which comes heartily recommended by Cosma Shalizi but is more or less boring me to death. You never know in advance which book is going to shake your world-view to its foundations.
Maybe we need to make a distinction here between one-topic classics and broader-ranging, multi-topic classics. What I would need (and love) to read is the “Gödel, Escher, Bach” of moral theories. :)
But while I derived nourishment from Rawls Theory of Justice I wouldn’t necessarily seek out “classics” of communautarism (or other traditions making a strong case against e.g. gay rights), because I don’t feel that dire a need to expose my ideas on moral theories to contradiction. I’d be keen to get that contradiction in smaller and more pre-digested doses.
Usually when I have identified a topic as really, really important I find it worthwhile to round out my understanding of it by going back to primary or early sources, if only because every later commentator is implicitly referring back to them, even if “between the lines”.
I also seek out the “classic” in a field when my own ideas stand in stark opposition to those attributed to that field. For instance I read F.W. Taylor’s original “Scientific Management” book because I spent quite a bit of energy criticizing “Taylorism”, and to criticize something effectively it’s judicious to do everything you can not to misrepresent it.
Well, I’m not sure where we agree or don’t now. We certainly agree here:
Yes, yes you should learn about these contradictions of your worldview from summaries of the insights that go against it.
But you also say:
But what’s the difference? If I’m already so lacking as to need to read (more) classics, how would I even know which classics are worth it? He gives no advice in this respect, and if he did, I wouldn’t be so critical. But then it would be an issue about whether people should read this or that book, not about “classics” as such.
Did you regard gay rights as really, really important?
And at times we also discover that the eponymous mascot’s actual ideas are quite a lot different to those that we are rejecting. Then at least we know to always direct the criticisms at “Taylorism” and never “Taylor” (depending whether the mascot in question shares the insanity.)
You’d need to spell out more precisely what he’s doing that you think deserves criticism.
Interestingly I seem to have read quite a few of the “classics” that come up in that discussion on “what science does”. Polanyi’s Personal Knowledge, Feyerabend’s Against Method, Lakatos’ Proofs and Refutations, Kuhn’s Structure of Scientific Revolutions. Not Popper however—I’ve read The Open Society but not his other works.
Given your stance on “explaining” those strike me as good examples of the kind of stuff you might want to have read because that would leave you in a better position to criticize what you’re criticizing: less prone to misrepresenting it. (As for me, I’m now investing a lot of time and energy into this “Bayesian” stuff, which definitely is sort of a counterpoint to my prior leanings.)
Exactly what I referred to in the previous paragraph.
Callahan is, supposedly, aware of these classics’ insights. Did he present them where applicable? Show evidence he understands them? No. Every time he drops the name of a great author or a classic, he fails to put the argument in his own words, sketch it out, or show its applicability to the arguments under discussion.
For example, he drops the remark that “Polanyi showed that crystallography is an a priori science [in the sense that Austrian economics is]” as if it were conclusively settled. Then, when I explain why this can’t possibly be the case, Callahan is unable to provide any further elaboration of why that is (and I couldn’t find a reference to it anywhere).
The problem, I contend, is therefore on his end. To the extent that Callahan’s list of classics is relevant, and that he is a majestic bearer of this deep, hard-won knowledge, he is unable to actually show how the classics are relevant, and what amazing arguments are presented in them that obviate our discussion. The duty falls on him to make them relevant, not for everyone else to just go out and read everything he has, just because he thinks, in all his gullible wisdom, that it will totally convince us.
Note: I wasn’t alone in noticing Callahan’s refusal to engage. Another poster remarked:
Also, people like to make a big deal about how clever Quine’s holism argument is, but if you’re at all familiar with Bayesianism, you roll your eyes at it. Yes, theories can’t be tested in isolation, but Bayesian inference can tell you which beliefs are most strongly weakened by which evidence, showing that you have a basis for saying which theory was, in effect, tested by the observations.
Things like these make me skeptical of those who claim that these philosophers have something worthwhile to say to me about science. I would rather focus on reading the epistemology of those who are actually making real, unfakeable, un-groupthinkable progress, like Sebastian Thrun and Judea Pearl.
I think Lakatos, Proofs and Refutations is a fun book, but the chief thing I learned from it is that mathematical proofs aren’t absolutely true, even when there is no error in reasoning. It’s about mathematics, not science. It’s also quite short, particularly if you skip the second, much more mathematically-involved dialogue.
I learned the opposite: that mathematical proofs can be and should be absolutely true. When they fall short, it is a sign that some confusion still remains in the concepts.
I see no contradiction between these interpretations. :P
If they’re never absolutely true (your interpretation), how can they ever be absolutely true (my interpretation)?
I said mathematical proofs aren’t absolute because mathematical proofs and refutations are subject to philosophical, linguistic debate—argument about whether the proof fits the concept being played with, argument which can result in (for example) proof-constructed definitions. During this process, one might say that the original proof or refutation is correct, but no longer appropriate, or that the original proof is incorrect. Neither statement implies different behavior.
You’re basically doing the same when you name-drop “a Bayesian revival in the sciences”. I’ve been here for months trying to figure out what the hell people mean by “Bayesian” and frankly feel little the wiser. It’s interesting to me, so I keep digging, but clearly explained? Give me a break. :)
I found Polanyi somewhat obscure (all that I could conclude from Personal Knowledge was that I was totally devoid of spiritual knowledge), so I won’t defend him. But one point that keeps coming up is that if you look closely, anything that people have so far come up with that purports to be a “methodological rule of science”, can be falsified by looking at one scientist or another, doing something that their peers are happy to call perfectly good science, yet violates one part or another of the supposed “methodology”.
As an example being impartial certainly isn’t required to do good science; you can start out having a hunch and being damn sure your hunch is correct, and the energy to devise clever ways to turn your hunch into a workable theory lets you succeed where others don’t even acknowledge there is a problem to be solved. Semmelweis seems to be a good example of an opinionated scientist. Or maybe Seth Roberts.
What’s your take on string theorists? ;)
That’s not remotely the same thing—I wasn’t bringing that up as some kind of substantiation for any argument, while Callahan was mentioning the thing about “a priori crystallography” (???) as an argument.
So? I was arguing about what deserves to be called science, not what happens to be called science. And yes, people practice “ideal science” imperfectly, but that’s no evidence against the validity of the ideal, any more than it’s a criticism of circles that no one ever uses a perfect one. Furthermore, every time someone points to one of these counterexamples, it happens to be at best a strawman view. Like what you do here:
The claim isn’t that you have to be impartial, but that you must adhere to a method that will filter out your partiality. That is, there has to be something that can distinguish your method from groupthink, from decreeing something true merely because you have a gentleman’s agreement not to contradict it.