How do we come to know things?

[lmelahn]

Certainly, Imelahn, it was a very poor knowledge; one that resembles my cat’s knowledge.

Exactly, when you simply “see” objects, you are reduced to the realm of interactions. At that moment you don’t know those objects, though you are in their presence. It is until you think about them that you emerge into the realm of relations and then we can say that your knowledge of them starts.

I can see, Imelahn, that the “knowledge” you are referring to is not superior to my cat’s “knowledge”, as I mentioned above.

But a cat cannot make either abstractions or judgments, as I can. Your cat is capable of the sensual knowledge that I mentioned in my previous post—he can generate a sensual representation, and that’s as far as he gets. He could never know the pine tree for what it is, nor ascertain that this mass before him is “a” pine tree (which is an application of the universal notion to the particular individual).

I hope you are not considering all this as part of the intelligible content of the pine tree. This is part of the intelligible content of a Thomistic doctrine, but not of the pine tree.

No, the intelligible content is intrinsic to the substance in question, and it is grasped spontaneously by the intellect through abstraction.

 

[lmelahn]

Just like my cat, Imelahn: he doesn’t behave before a tree as if it were a blob of green and brown. Do you want to mean that my cat grasps the substance of material objects? Wouldn’t it imply, according to the Thomistic doctrine, that it would have agent and passive intellects too?

No, because grasping particular individual substance is actually done by our internal senses (for us, the so-called “cogitative power;” for animals, Thomas calls it the “estimative power,” because animals stop at that point, where as our cogitative power presents the sensual representation it makes to our intellect for abstraction).

Animals are capable of uniting the different sensations they have into a coherent objects. But they can only know that the object is there. They can’t know what it is.

As an aside, I just want to say for the moment that accidents such like color, odor, and others, do not inhere in the substance.

I happen to think they do—moreover, I think their inherence can be reconciled neatly with what modern physics tells us about them—but let’s worry about that in another post. )

Please, remember: the first time you saw a pinus pinea you did not recognize it as such, but just as a tree; and you did it thanks to the fact that you had a previous knowledge about many other trees, because of the many interactions you had had with them. Besides, someone else told you it was a pinus pinea.

Sure. And that’s another thing that animals can’t do: use analogy to learn about things they haven’t seen yet, and incorporate what others have told them.

But that doesn’t take away from the fact that when I saw the pine tree, I knew that, concrete pine tree, for what it was, however imperfectly. We always learn about substance, so to speak, from the outside in. First we know that it simply is; then, that it is something concrete (even if we don’t know or use the technical term “substance”); then (as in this case) that it is a tree, and so on.

Notice how, when I saw my first Pinus pinea, in the very act, I applied the universal concept of “tree” to it? (This is a notion, obviously, that I first abstracted from a different kind of tree—but all trees really participate in that notion.) You cat cannot do that (much as I am sure it is a lovely cat ).

I have put in red (in this and in the previous post) all what in your text refers to the “intelligibility” of the Thomistic substantial form (for the pinus pinea). Compared to the intelligibility that you can find in what you call “accidental forms”, it is nothing. Do you realize it?

I disagree. The accidents derive their being from the substance, or in any case, cannot exist except in a substance. It follows that the substance has the greater intelligibility.

The more general notions that you associate with the pine tree are not obtained by looking intensely and persistently at it, nor by examining “its notion”.

Well, it depends what you mean by “obtaining the notion.” Everyone realizes that a tree is a concrete individual (a.k.a. a “substance” in Aristotelian parlance). No one needs to study Aristotle or Thomas for that.

You have obtained them by reading, among others, the Aristotelian-Thomistic texts.

I acquired explicit, systematic knowledge of these notions by studying Aristotle and Thomas, yes. But not the implicit, pre-systematic knowledge that everyone has.

Some of the other notions (e.g., that it is a living being) would require more know-how, certainly, although you don‘t need philosophical training. Any gardener knows that a tree is alive. He doesn’t have to know that “life” is the “being of a living thing” in order to know that something is alive.

However, those notions could also be obtained by comparing a variety of material entities with the pine tree (including those that are very similar and those that are quite different from it). After 16 years of knowing pine trees and many other entities, you surely must be able to say something about the intelligibility of the “substantial form” of a pine tree which is not just that it is “a whole” that you can find in front of you. I presume you can certainly realize that the pine tree is a living being, but only after observing certain of its interactions (intrinsic and extrinsic), and comparing them with the interactions of other beings (both living and non-living).

Note that I did not say that we know the substantial form immediately. I said that we know the substance (supposit) immediately. There is a difference. A substantial form is just a principle; it cannot exist (in subhuman creatures) without matter. Immediately and spontaneously, we know neither matter nor form. However, by means of the form we know the whole substance.

Indeed, knowing the substantial form takes a lot of analysis.

You are right that I learned everything I know about the pine tree, either from my personal interaction with it, or else by information from third parties. Hence, we know things by means of their phenomena. However, what we know primarily and spontaneously is the things, not their phenomena.

Unless you say something else that proofs the contrary, I would affirm that what you have said so far only shows the plausibility of this statement: there is absolutely no intelligibility in substantial forms considered isolated from any other entities.

Ah, but I never said that the substantial form is isolated from other entities. Only that it is the source of the intelligibility of those entities. It is always through the accidents that we know the substance. (Again, the substantial form is one of the last things we know about a substance. The very last thing we know is its act of being.)

 

[lmelahn]

Look at it this way:

What is it that I am apprehending outside my window? A pine tree. A substance (or supposit). I don’t need to be a scientist or philosopher to form valid, intellectual knowledge of that pine tree.

This is intellectual knowledge properly speaking: the apprehension of a notion, and (especially) the judgment that my mind makes regarding that thing: “this is an umbrella pine.”

Don’t confuse intellectual knowledge with ratiocinium—that is, with discursive reason—which is what I have to do to analyze the notions and the substances themselves. Intellection (apprehension and judgment) and reasoning are different acts.

Anyway, so I know this pine tree. How do I know it? Through its interactions with me (in addition to all the other baggage I already have: previous knowledge of trees, what people have told me, what I have read, etc.).

It is only after analyzing my intellectual process (through discursive reason) that I come to realize that the notion of umbrella pine contains other notions virtually (even though I knew some of these notion unsystematically before I did the analysis); that umbrella pines are substances, and so on.

Finally, it is only by a rigorous analysis that I can come to know that this pine tree (a supposit) is composed of essence and accident; that the essence is composed of substantial form and matter; and so on. That is the very last part I get to (and most people don’t get that far).

 

[Nixbits]

Imelahn:

Notice how, when I saw my first Pinus pinea, in the very act, I applied the universal concept of “tree” to it? (This is a notion, obviously, that I first abstracted from a different kind of tree—but all trees really participate in that notion.) Your cat cannot do that (much as I am sure it is a lovely cat).

As an aside, I think it highly likely that a cat could do a similar thing. An adult cat, seeing this tree for the first time (with more acute eyesight than a human, and with a keen sense of smell too), might apply its own universal concept of tree. If it was familiar with pine trees (with uncomfortable green parts that get stuck in its fur) and broad-leafed trees (with flat flexible green parts that are less uncomfortable to climb through), it might even apply it’s own concept of ‘pine tree’ to this individual tree. Many animals can do the same. Their concepts may be substantially different to our own, but it is probably a similar process.

 

[JuanFlorencio]

Anyway, so I know this pine tree. How do I know it? Through its interactions with me (in addition to all the other baggage I already have: previous knowledge of trees, what people have told me, what I have read, etc.).

It is only after analyzing my intellectual process (through discursive reason) that I come to realize that the notion of umbrella pine contains other notions virtually (even though I knew some of these notion unsystematically before I did the analysis); that umbrella pines are substances, and so on.

Finally, it is only by a rigorous analysis that I can come to know that this pine tree (a supposit) is composed of essence and accident; that the essence is composed of substantial form and matter; and so on. That is the very last part I get to (and most people don’t get that far).

I think we have come to an important agreement here, though there are still certain differences (and perhaps they will always be inevitable).

We know a material object through interactions in addition to our previous background. In my terminology, I associate such background to relations: So, I say: we understand something when we assimilate it into our previous systems of relations, or when we establish relations between that object and others (in this last case, we would be forming a new system of relations).

I would say that a notion does not contain more that what you have put in it, either really or virtually. But you can always refer again to the material object and establish new relations. That way, you would be enriching your notion of it.

Also, I tend to think that it would be extremely unlikely that any of us could reproduce the Aristotelian doctrine (for example, the notions of matter and form, essence, substance and accident) no matter how rigorous our analysis could be. Aristotle had a peculiar intellectual history (his background). This background shaped the interpretation of his rich experiences giving place to his doctrines. Without knowing them, you would need to be identical to him if you wanted to get to the same conclusions (because usually they are highly elaborated). However, if you read his texts and you confront them with your experiences he might convince you on several points (not only points really, but on entire blocks of doctrine), because his arguments are strong. There is also the possibility that you accept his whole doctrine (even without knowing all of it), due to “reasons” extrinsic to it (for example, due to “reasons of authority”). And, we should never forget that certain backgrounds will repel the whole thing or at least part of it. History shows this to be the case. As you say, “most people don’t get that far”.

Look at it this way:

What is it that I am apprehending outside my window? A pine tree. A substance (or supposit). I don’t need to be a scientist or philosopher to form valid, intellectual knowledge of that pine tree.

This is intellectual knowledge properly speaking: the apprehension of a notion, and (especially) the judgment that my mind makes regarding that thing: “this is an umbrella pine.”

Don’t confuse intellectual knowledge with ratiocinium—that is, with discursive reason—which is what I have to do to analyze the notions and the substances themselves. Intellection (apprehension and judgment) and reasoning are different acts.

There is no confusion, Imelahn. It is just that reasoning plays a fundamental role on knowing things, and there are more similarities between judgement and reasoning than between judgement and simple apprehension. While judgement and reasoning consist on establishing relations, simple apprehension is your mode of being in front of material objects. I cannot find anything more heterogeneous than this.

Establishing relations is what properly constitutes knowledge in such a way that you can convert a material substance that appeared unintelligible into highly intelligible: you can look at yourself as an extraordinarily complex system and an equally extraordinary mass of knowledge will gradually emerge. Nor the form nor the essence of material substances is abstracted from them; we construct them!, not arbitrarily, but by imitation. Such imitative construction is, again, what I have called a set of relations.

JuanFlorencio

 

[JuanFlorencio]

As an aside, I think it highly likely that a cat could do a similar thing. An adult cat, seeing this tree for the first time (with more acute eyesight than a human, and with a keen sense of smell too), might apply its own universal concept of tree. If it was familiar with pine trees (with uncomfortable green parts that get stuck in its fur) and broad-leafed trees (with flat flexible green parts that are less uncomfortable to climb through), it might even apply it’s own concept of ‘pine tree’ to this individual tree. Many animals can do the same. Their concepts may be substantially different to our own, but it is probably a similar process.

Looking at the so complex behavior of these animals (and many others), I tend to agree with what you say, Nixbits, stressing what I put in red in your comment.
Regards
JuanFlorencio

 

[lmelahn]

As an aside, I think it highly likely that a cat could do a similar thing. An adult cat, seeing this tree for the first time (with more acute eyesight than a human, and with a keen sense of smell too), might apply its own universal concept of tree. If it was familiar with pine trees (with uncomfortable green parts that get stuck in its fur) and broad-leafed trees (with flat flexible green parts that are less uncomfortable to climb through), it might even apply it’s own concept of ‘pine tree’ to this individual tree. Many animals can do the same. Their concepts may be substantially different to our own, but it is probably a similar process.

A cat demonstrates no behavior that indicates that it forms universal concepts. For instance, it cannot communicate the notion of tree through its purring or mewling. A human being will quickly learn that “umbrella pines drop pine cones” (and therefore you have to be careful when walking under them) and then check other kinds of pine trees for the same effect. A cat can’t do that kind of reasoning.

What you are describing there is the cat’s sensual knowledge. It is capable of knowing this particular pine tree, remember it from the last time, and it can even remember similar experiences from other pine trees (especially inasmuch as they were pleasurable or painful). But that is simple comparison of memories: there is neither abstraction, nor a true application of a universal to particulars. Moreover, the cat does not know that it is knowing, as we do.

We do all of that, too, but we also form abstract, or universal, notions. That is why language comes so easily to us.

(If you are still not convinced that only humans can do abstraction: consider that only humans can understand abstract concepts, like “justice” or “society”—not to mention “abstract” and “concept.” You never saw a cat doing mathematics—or any kind of science, for that matter—or purring poetry.)

 

[lmelahn]

Looking at the so complex behavior of these animals (and many others), I tend to agree with what you say, Nixbits, stressing what I put in red in your comment.
Regards
JuanFlorencio

The key difference is that our concepts are immaterial by nature (although we have sensual representations too). Animals have only the sensual representations.

There have been a number of fascinating experiments done on chimpanzees (arguably the most “intelligent” animals after man) that demonstrate this fairly well, I think. I hope I remember the details (I will try to look them up later), but here goes:

In one experiment, they allowed a chimpanzee to choose between two piles of M&M’s. As expected, the chimpanzee quickly learned to choose the larger pile.

Then they tried a different test: if the chimpanzee chose the larger pile, they would give it the smaller one, and vice versa. One would expect a being with the ability to abstract to learn that by choosing the smaller pile, the larger one would be awarded. However, despite their protests and consternation, the chimpanzees were never able to grasp this simple rule.

In a different experiment, they placed three baskets on the ground. One contained an M&M. If the subject of the experiment chose correctly, it would receive an M&M. Otherwise, they would show it where the M&M actually was, but the subject would not receive it.

In the second round, the subject would invariably choose the same basket, in which the M&M was placed the time before. However, the testers always placed the M&M instead in the next basket down. As before, the examiners would show the subject where the M&M was actually hidden.

When a chimpanzee ran the trial, it would, as I said invariably choose the basket in which the M&M had been the time before. When that basket was uncovered empty, the chimpanzee would show displeasure and consternation, especially as the examiners showed it where the M&M really was, and then took it away. The chimpanzees simply never understood what was going on: they always chose the basket where the candy had been hidden the time before.

They let a four-year-old (human) child run the very same trial. After about 4 or 5 rounds, the child picked up on the pattern, and figured out that he had to choose the next basket down.

Finally, they let an adult human run the trial; he grasped the pattern after the second round.

Do you see what I mean? A chimpanzee simply cannot grasp the idea “The candy will be placed in the next basket” or “Choosing the smaller pile will get me more M&M’s.” A human being can do that (even a child, albeit slower than an adult).

 

[lmelahn]

I think we have come to an important agreement here, though there are still certain differences (and perhaps they will always be inevitable).

…]

Establishing relations is what properly constitutes knowledge in such a way that you can convert a material substance that appeared unintelligible into highly intelligible: you can look at yourself as an extraordinarily complex system and an equally extraordinary mass of knowledge will gradually emerge. Nor the form nor the essence of material substances is abstracted from them; we construct them!, not arbitrarily, but by imitation. Such imitative construction is, again, what I have called a set of relations.

JuanFlorencio

Of course: Aristotle was a genius, and we are indebted to him . Perhaps no one else could have come up with his analysis, but it does do a marvelous job of explaining what we know from experience—so I consider it a keeper!

And yet (regarding your last point), our spiritual nature is extraordinarily simple. Did you ever consider how it is possible for us to know that we are knowing—to be self-aware? Material sensory faculties can’t do that. Our eyes don’t actually do the seeing; they just collect the data for our brains (the seat of the internal senses) to process. The same holds true for the internal senses: one part of the brain can make a synthesis of data provided by other parts of the brain, but the same part cannot be aware of what it is doing (because it is busy doing its own job).

Our sensual apparatus is, I agree, extremely complex, and yet our experience of consciousness is unified and continuous—not a series of disconnected signals. Only something simple and without material parts could make that kind of unification.

I am afraid that we will have to disagree if you say that we construct our notions—at least if we understand that the way Kant did: as if our understanding needs to impose a pre-established structure (for Kant, the categories and schemata) on completely disjointed and discontinuous sensory data.

There is an active component to our knowledge—the unification to sensory data done by the internal senses, and the abstraction accomplished by the agent intellect—but our intellects are principally receptive. (That is why Aquinas called it intellectus possibilis.) In the things we encounter in the world, there is an intrinsic order or logos (what I called the “intelligible contents”) which our intellects discover. We do not make it up.

I would characterize the process not as a construction, but as an impression. (I am borrowing the term from Hume, but I am giving it a very different meaning, because I am taking into account the spiritual nature of our intellects, which Hume did not.)

A substance has a certain consistency, that is independent of our knowledge of it (I assume we are in agreement on this point). It has an intrinsic intelligibility, that any creature with an intellect can grasp, if it has a mind to do so. (That logos turned out to be derived from its substantial form, but we can leave that aside for the moment.)

How do material substances get into our minds? They (with their intrinsic intelligibility) act upon us. (It is not we who act upon them.) Think of my pine tree. Because of its nature (a.k.a. essence, or substance as intrinsic principle), it receives light from the sun, and reflects it at those particular wavelengths and intensities that its nature allows. That light strikes my eyes; the eyes send the signals to my brain; my brain synthesizes them in to an sensual representation; and my intellect grasps the notion of pine tree.

Yes, my sensual and intellectual apparatus had to do some work, but the protagonist there was the pine tree. That is way I said, the pine tree left a kind of intellectual impression in my mind. My intellect is, if you will, molded into that pine tree. (And human intellects, being spiritual, are inherently malleable, so to speak—that is why Aristotle refers to the active principle of a substance as form.) So much so that Aristotle even goes so far to say that our intellects become the things we know, in a certain respect (i.e., intentionally).

So substances produce interactions. These interactions cause our intellects to be molded, so to speak, into the form of the things that we know—so that, intentionally speaking, they are the very same form. The result of that union is knowledge of those substances. If you wish to call the action of the senses and agent intellect a “construction,” I could accept that, provided it is clear that the protagonist in knowledge is the substance that is known.

 

[Nixbits]

Imelahn, I don’t want to labour this point because it’s peripheral to the interesting discussion between yourself and JuanFlorencio. But . . . with regard to the alleged inability of cats to form universal concepts, I would point out that absence of evidence is not evidence of absence. It may be that cats cannot perform abstraction or apply a universal to particulars, but I don’t think this has been proved beyond doubt.

Similarly, it may be that only humans understand an abstract concept like ‘justice’. However, research has found that chimpanzees understand the concept of fairness. You’re right, I have never heard a cat purr poetry. But I’ve heard whales sing songs and gradually change their shared song to form new songs. Our knowledge of the meaning (if any) of these songs is extremely limited.

The M&M example demonstrates that chimpanzee’s are not especially good at pattern recognition, but I’m not convinced it reveals anything about abstraction. I think I’m right in saying that in the wild chimpanzees make a particular warning vocalisation, if other chimps are near, when they see a snake. This proves recognition and the intentionality of their communication. This may not be a true abstraction, perhaps. But it seems at least plausible to me that chimps could form a concept of ‘snakes’ (snakes in general, all snakes). Again we are hampered by the lack of a means of communication with chimpanzees (or cats or whales). But just because we have no evidence of abstraction does not mean that some animals other than humans do not do it.

 

[JuanFlorencio]

Of course: Aristotle was a genius, and we are indebted to him . Perhaps no one else could have come up with his analysis, but it does do a marvelous job of explaining what we know from experience—so I consider it a keeper!

Undoubtedly Aristotle was a gifted man; and it is a sign of prudence to follow him if we cannot do better than him. But I would say that if we can improve his doctrines, then we must do it.

And yet (regarding your last point), our spiritual nature is extraordinarily simple. Did you ever consider how it is possible for us to know that we are knowing—to be self-aware? Material sensory faculties can’t do that. Our eyes don’t actually do the seeing; they just collect the data for our brains (the seat of the internal senses) to process. The same holds true for the internal senses: one part of the brain can make a synthesis of data provided by other parts of the brain, but the same part cannot be aware of what it is doing (because it is busy doing its own job).

Our sensual apparatus is, I agree, extremely complex, and yet our experience of consciousness is unified and continuous—not a series of disconnected signals. Only something simple and without material parts could make that kind of unification.

I wasn’t talking about our spiritual nature, Imelahn, but about our corporeality. Now, what are you saying here? You say you are conscious. But what are you conscious of? Among other things you are obviously conscious of what you see, or hear, or smell, etcetera. Naturally, you can also think consciously. However, if you are Aristotelian, I cannot understand how you say that it is not your eyes which actually see, or that part of your brain makes a synthesis of data from other parts of the brain. According to Aristotelian philosophy you are a substance, not one spiritual substance (you) “inside” another material substance (your body) which can act by itself. When we say “I see”, we refer to us as a whole entity, and I think this is consistent with aristotelianism. It makes sense to me.

I am afraid that we will have to disagree if you say that we construct our notions—at least if we understand that the way Kant did: as if our understanding needs to impose a pre-established structure (for Kant, the categories and schemata) on completely disjointed and discontinuous sensory data.

No, I do not understand the construction of our systems of relations as Kant understood that our knowledge happens. I am talking about imitation. What do we imitate? Interactions! Let me use a very ambiguous terminology to say it (I have observed that sometimes an ambiguous terminology can “clarify” things better): our knowledge is an imitation of extra-mental reality. So, I am not saying that we know through a priori intuitions and a priori categories. What I say is that we belong to the realm of interactions (what some call “objective reality”) and to the realm of relations simultaneously; and that the realm of relations is an imitation (not a system of abstractions) of the realm of interactions.

Look at this, for example: you say that our spiritual nature is extraordinarily simple. But nor you, nor me, nor anybody has ever had an experience of anything simple. The notion of simplicity can be obtained through a complex thought process in which you think on a material entity that folds on itself so that one part of it touches the other part. Then you go on imagining new folding processes through which more parts touch each other, and finally you “extrapolate” to “conceive” a simple being (actually, you don’t conceive it, but you try -it is a conatus) which would be characterized by its ability to be entirely present to itself. This is how we might construct our notion of a simple being (there must be many different ways, I don’t see why not), with our consciousness as a reference. Do you see? However, I think that such notion is very deficient, because in fact we are very obscure to ourselves.

There is an active component to our knowledge—the unification to sensory data done by the internal senses, and the abstraction accomplished by the agent intellect—but our intellects are principally receptive. (That is why Aquinas called it intellectus possibilis.) In the things we encounter in the world, there is an intrinsic order or logos (what I called the “intelligible contents”) which our intellects discover. We do not make it up.

I would characterize the process not as a construction, but as an impression. (I am borrowing the term from Hume, but I am giving it a very different meaning, because I am taking into account the spiritual nature of our intellects, which Hume did not.)

A substance has a certain consistency, that is independent of our knowledge of it (I assume we are in agreement on this point). It has an intrinsic intelligibility, that any creature with an intellect can grasp, if it has a mind to do so. (That logos turned out to be derived from its substantial form, but we can leave that aside for the moment.

Yes, the consistency of the elements of interactions (which are called substances by Aristotle) is absolutely independent of our knowledge. I even reject the idea of that unification of sensory data that you mention. How could we perform it? We live among material objects!

 

[JuanFlorencio]

How do material substances get into our minds? They (with their intrinsic intelligibility) act upon us. (It is not we who act upon them.) Think of my pine tree. Because of its nature (a.k.a. essence, or substance as intrinsic principle), it receives light from the sun, and reflects it at those particular wavelengths and intensities that its nature allows. That light strikes my eyes; the eyes send the signals to my brain; my brain synthesizes them in to an sensual representation; and my intellect grasps the notion of pine tree.

Yes, my sensual and intellectual apparatus had to do some work, but the protagonist there was the pine tree. That is way I said, the pine tree left a kind of intellectual impression in my mind. My intellect is, if you will, molded into that pine tree. (And human intellects, being spiritual, are inherently malleable, so to speak—that is why Aristotle refers to the active principle of a substance as form.) So much so that Aristotle even goes so far to say that our intellects become the things we know, in a certain respect (i.e., intentionally).

So substances produce interactions. These interactions cause our intellects to be molded, so to speak, into the form of the things that we know—so that, intentionally speaking, they are the very same form. The result of that union is knowledge of those substances. If you wish to call the action of the senses and agent intellect a “construction,” I could accept that, provided it is clear that the protagonist in knowledge is the substance that is known.

I have mentioned above how I understand the action of our intellect. There is more. I will describe an experience of mine and I will leave it without further interpretation for the moment: one day that I was driving, I saw an ad about two hundred meters ahead of me. It was advertising a turkey ham that would help you develop a slim complexion. There was an image in the lower left part of the ad, but I could not identify it. As I was approaching the ad I felt uneasy because I could not figure out what the image was. Suddenly, I realized that it was part of a photograph showing the belly of an slim woman, wearing sports garments. I felt relieved.

Good morning for you, Imelahn!
JuanFlorencio

 

[GEddie]

A cat demonstrates no behavior that indicates that it forms universal concepts. For instance, it cannot communicate the notion of tree through its purring or mewling. A human being will quickly learn that “umbrella pines drop pine cones” (and therefore you have to be careful when walking under them) and then check other kinds of pine trees for the same effect. A cat can’t do that kind of reasoning.

What you are describing there is the cat’s sensual knowledge. It is capable of knowing this particular pine tree, remember it from the last time, and it can even remember similar experiences from other pine trees (especially inasmuch as they were pleasurable or painful). But that is simple comparison of memories: there is neither abstraction, nor a true application of a universal to particulars. Moreover, the cat does not know that it is knowing, as we do.

We do all of that, too, but we also form abstract, or universal, notions. That is why language comes so easily to us.

(If you are still not convinced that only humans can do abstraction: consider that only humans can understand abstract concepts, like “justice” or “society”—not to mention “abstract” and “concept.” You never saw a cat doing mathematics—or any kind of science, for that matter—or purring poetry.)

Although I do not hold that animals are capable of the high-order mind as described, there is a reason why cats don’t meow any high-order thoughts to each other. Meowing is only done to human beings.

ICXC NIKA.

 

[lmelahn]

Although I do not hold that animals are capable of the high-order mind as described, there is a reason why cats don’t meow any high-order thoughts to each other. Meowing is only done to human beings.

ICXC NIKA.

Ah, well, you can see that I am not a cat owner, then. But there are animals that clearly use sounds to communicate (birds, higher primates, etc.). However, not one of them really uses language, as we know it.

 

[lmelahn]

Imelahn, I don’t want to labour this point because it’s peripheral to the interesting discussion between yourself and JuanFlorencio. But . . . with regard to the alleged inability of cats to form universal concepts, I would point out that absence of evidence is not evidence of absence. It may be that cats cannot perform abstraction or apply a universal to particulars, but I don’t think this has been proved beyond doubt.

Similarly, it may be that only humans understand an abstract concept like ‘justice’. However, research has found that chimpanzees understand the concept of fairness. You’re right, I have never heard a cat purr poetry. But I’ve heard whales sing songs and gradually change their shared song to form new songs. Our knowledge of the meaning (if any) of these songs is extremely limited.

The M&M example demonstrates that chimpanzee’s are not especially good at pattern recognition, but I’m not convinced it reveals anything about abstraction. I think I’m right in saying that in the wild chimpanzees make a particular warning vocalisation, if other chimps are near, when they see a snake. This proves recognition and the intentionality of their communication. This may not be a true abstraction, perhaps. But it seems at least plausible to me that chimps could form a concept of ‘snakes’ (snakes in general, all snakes). Again we are hampered by the lack of a means of communication with chimpanzees (or cats or whales). But just because we have no evidence of abstraction does not mean that some animals other than humans do not do it.

If this were a question that could be answered by empirical science alone, I would agree with the principle of absence of evidence is not evidence of absence. On the other hand, that principle cannot be absolutized, especially when the problem is chiefly a philosophical one (as in this case).

For example, we have never seen an orange tree grow apples; nevertheless it is perfectly reasonable to reason from that “absence” (along with other things that we know about orange trees) that orange trees cannot grow apples.

In the similar way, in creatures with a true, spiritual intellect (like man), their spiritual nature imbues every aspect of their being. Therefore, fully formed adults of rational creatures necessarily display their rationality to some degree. Hence, the complete absence of such activity in all fully formed, adult animals of a species is sufficient to demonstrate that they do not have intellectual capacities.

Or, to put it another way, we argue not only from the absence of evidence, but also from what we know about spiritual beings.

As far as the other animals are concerned, higher animals do demonstrate a surprising versatility and capacity for memory. But they do not, in the slightest way, show that they understand what they are doing, which is the point here.

Do you remember Koko, the gorilla who was taught sign language? (I believe they have subsequently done many similar experiments on chimpanzees.)

What is interesting is that they taught Koko signs, together with some small children. (I think it was Koko, but it might have been a different anthropoid.) At first, Koko learned faster than the children. She learned several hundred signs (according to Wikipedia, about 1000).

With the children, at first they actually learned more slowly. However, there suddenly came a moment when the sign language “clicked”—basically, when they understood that “this sign means that thing.” At that point, they raced ahead of the gorilla, as their natural curiosity took over. They soon learned thousands of signs, and learned to converse with them, like a language, whereas Koko remained with her several hundred. And she never learned more than the most basic “syntax.” In other words, the gorilla never did anything more than memorize combinations of signs.

Another interesting thing is that researchers have never been able to teach anthropoids to use the sign language to each other, or with their offspring. Even the researchers agree now that language (as we know it) is simply not something that anthropoids are capable of.

 

[lmelahn]

Undoubtedly Aristotle was a gifted man; and it is a sign of prudence to follow him if we cannot do better than him. But I would say that if we can improve his doctrines, then we must do it.

I wasn’t talking about our spiritual nature, Imelahn, but about our corporeality. Now, what are you saying here? You say you are conscious. But what are you conscious of? Among other things you are obviously conscious of what you see, or hear, or smell, etcetera. Naturally, you can also think consciously. However, if you are Aristotelian, I cannot understand how you say that it is not your eyes which actually see, or that part of your brain makes a synthesis of data from other parts of the brain. According to Aristotelian philosophy you are a substance, not one spiritual substance (you) “inside” another material substance (your body) which can act by itself. When we say “I see”, we refer to us as a whole entity, and I think this is consistent with aristotelianism. It makes sense to me.

I see by means of my eyes. But my eyes, strictly speaking, do not see; rather, they receive the sensory stimuli. In order to “see” you have to do more than just collect signals: you have to put them together and make a coherent image. The eyes cannot do that synthesis: the internal senses do it (which we know now are located in the brain, essentially).

Are you familiar with the Thomistic maxim, actiones sunt suppositorum (roughly: “it is the supposit that performs actions” or “actions belong to the supposit”)? All of the actions that I do belong to me, as a whole, not to one of my faculties. Hence I do the seeing, not (strictly speaking) my eyes. That is what I meant.

No, I do not understand the construction of our systems of relations as Kant understood that our knowledge happens. I am talking about imitation. What do we imitate? Interactions! Let me use a very ambiguous terminology to say it (I have observed that sometimes an ambiguous terminology can “clarify” things better): our knowledge is an imitation of extra-mental reality. So, I am not saying that we know through a priori intuitions and a priori categories. What I say is that we belong to the realm of interactions (what some call “objective reality”) and to the realm of relations simultaneously; and that the realm of relations is an imitation (not a system of abstractions) of the realm of interactions.

Technically, the intuitions in Kant are a posteriori. It is the forms of space and time what are a priori, but that is just for your future reference .

Just a question: for you are interactions real operations (i.e., actions) of the substances (supposits) that produce them?

Look at this, for example: you say that our spiritual nature is extraordinarily simple. But nor you, nor me, nor anybody has ever had an experience of anything simple. The notion of simplicity can be obtained through a complex thought process in which you think on a material entity that folds on itself so that one part of it touches the other part. Then you go on imagining new folding processes through which more parts touch each other, and finally you “extrapolate” to “conceive” a simple being (actually, you don’t conceive it, but you try -it is a conatus) which would be characterized by its ability to be entirely present to itself.

OK, I essentially agree so far, if I understood you correctly. In other words, what we have experience of is material things (which are complex). We come to realize that we are simple (i.e., spiritual) beings through a rigorous analysis of our actions. Fair enough.

This is how we might construct our notion of a simple being (there must be many different ways, I don’t see why not), with our consciousness as a reference. Do you see? However, I think that such notion is very deficient, because in fact we are very obscure to ourselves.

It is a notion full of mystery, certainly, but not necessarily “deficient.” I mean, take our understanding of angels, or God: we know a lot more about what they are not, than about what they actually are.

Note that, as you point out, we do not come to the notion of spirit by abstraction, but by means of judgments (i.e., a spirit is that which is not material, etc.)

Yes, the consistency of the elements of interactions (which are called substances by Aristotle) is absolutely independent of our knowledge. I even reject the idea of that unification of sensory data that you mention. How could we perform it? We live among material objects!

Although I think we be more or less in agreement that our knowledge is by imitation, I have the following difficulties:

• If interactions are the operations (actions) of substance, I do not think we can reduce substances to their actions. We do not experience them that way, at least, I don’t . I see (and hear) a clanging bell, or a barking dog, not clanging that I happen to associate with a bell, nor barking that I happen to associate with a dog.
• I think that regardless of how we interpret “interaction,” one thing is important to emphasize: we do not know the imitation—our representation—directly. What we know directly is whatever it is we know (be that interaction or—as I see it—substance), by means of that imitation.

 

[Nixbits]

Imelahn, I don’t think your analogy of the orange tree is apt. If an orange tree were to produce an apple it would be readily apparent. If a cat were to abstract the universal concept of ‘tree’ within its brain, how would we know?
Imelahn:

. . . in creatures with a true, spiritual intellect (like man), their spiritual nature imbues every aspect of their being.

I don’t know what you mean by ‘spiritual’. This word is used and mis-used in so many ways that it has almost lost its value.
Imelahn:

… fully formed adults of rational creatures necessarily display their rationality to some degree. Hence, the complete absence of such activity in all fully formed, adult animals of a species is sufficient to demonstrate that they do not have intellectual capacities.

It seems to me that you’ve moved the goal-posts somewhat. We were discussing whether or not we can safely conclude that cats cannot abstract a universal concept. But here you are asserting that cats have no intellectual capacities because they display no rationality. If a cat avoids a certain garden, because every time it went there it was chased by a ferocious dog, it is surely displaying a very rational behaviour.
Imelahn:

But they do not, in the slightest way, show that they understand what they are doing, which is the point here.

No, I don’t think this is the point here. When I was a child and gained an understanding of the concept of ‘tree’, did I understand what I was doing? I don’t think so. Understanding the process of abstraction is not required in order to abstract a concept.
Imelahn:

Even the researchers agree now that language (as we know it) is simply not something that anthropoids are capable of.

I don’t think that researchers have agreed this. The debate about the extent to which apes can learn language is still ongoing, as far as I can tell. You seem much more prepared to reach a conclusion on this matter than I am. Perhaps we can agree that certain non-human animals can attain some level of basic language ability, but perhaps not sufficient to ever communicate at the level required to demonstrate if they can abstract a universal concept.

 

[JuanFlorencio]

I see by means of my eyes. But my eyes, strictly speaking, do not see; rather, they receive the sensory stimuli. In order to “see” you have to do more than just collect signals: you have to put them together and make a coherent image. The eyes cannot do that synthesis: the internal senses do it (which we know now are located in the brain, essentially).

Are you familiar with the Thomistic maxim, actiones sunt suppositorum (roughly: “it is the supposit that performs actions” or “actions belong to the supposit”)? All of the actions that I do belong to me, as a whole, not to one of my faculties. Hence I do the seeing, not (strictly speaking) my eyes. That is what I meant.

I do not remember every scholastic maxim, but I do agree with this one. I agree with it to such extent that expressions like “I see by means of my eyes” sound misleading to me. The Aristotelian terminology coexists with many others, and in this case this expression resembles more the platonic doctrine about man than the Aristotelian one. I guess this is unavoidable in our everyday life, but I regard this use of language unacceptable for a philosopher.

Technically, the intuitions in Kant are a posteriori. It is the forms of space and time what are a priori, but that is just for your future reference .

Just a question: for you are interactions real operations (i.e., actions) of the substances (supposits) that produce them?

Even though I mentioned that I was going to use ambiguous terminology, the ambiguity concerning a priori intuitions comes from Kant himself. It is him who refers to space and time as pure intuitions, a priori intuitions, representations, pure forms, a priori principles of our sensitivity.

 

[JuanFlorencio]

OK, I essentially agree so far, if I understood you correctly. In other words, what we have experience of is material things. We come to realize that we are simple (i.e., spiritual) beings through a rigorous analysis of our actions. Fair enough.

It is a notion full of mystery, certainly, but not necessarily “deficient.” I mean, take our understanding of angels, or God: we know a lot more about what they are not, than about what they actually are.

Note that, as you point out, we do not come to the notion of spirit by abstraction, but by means of judgments…

Is “to realize” equivalent to “to know” in English? Observe how in my comment I added this note: “with our consciousness as a reference”. This act of consciousness is what we regard as simple (to realize). Naturally we are conscious without any analysis, but the notion of simplicity (to know) is elaborated through a complex thought process plus something I have called “conatus” (I understand this might be difficult to grasp, because I am aware that nobody else has noticed this “incomplete acts”. Other cases in which we do the same are the notions of “infinity” and “nothingness”).

Although I think we be more or less in agreement that our knowledge is by imitation, I have the following difficulties:

• If interactions are the operations (actions) of substance, I do not think we can reduce substances to their actions. We do not experience them that way, at least, I don’t . I see (and hear) a clanging bell, or a barking dog, not clanging that I happen to associate with a bell, nor barking that I happen to associate with a dog.
• I think that regardless of how we interpret “interaction,” one thing is important to emphasize: we do not know the imitation—our representation—directly. What we know directly is whatever it is we know (be that interaction or—as I see it—substance), by means of that imitation.

Interactions do not exist without the elements that interact. I guess it is not necessary to say that if you hear the sound of a bell, and you look around you, you will find it (unless someone is trying to deceive you). The bell is the origin of many other interactions, besides the characteristic sound. The bell has many interaction modes, and it also interacts with you in different ways. When I say that we are among material objects I mean it. Who could reasonably deny it?

I wouldn’t’ like to be answering a question that you had no intention to ask; so, I will need to clarify:

We interact with material entities around us (we don’t interact with interactions, but with material entities).
We have agreed that we know those entities through their interactions.
You have now accepted -though with certain reserves-, that our knowledge is an imitation of those interactions.
So, we are saying that our imitation of interactions allow us to know the material entities, which are the elements of those interactions.
Do we know our representations (imitations)? I respond: Only by means of a kind of reflection, which is not very common. Second, even if someone does reflect, most probably he will not regard his representations as imitations, but as a kind of copies of the objects.
We can focus on some of those interactions too, and make efforts to understand them.

Let me put an example that perhaps you already know:

You have three buckets containing water. One of them is at 5 degrees Celsius, the second is at 35 degrees Celsius, and the third one is at 65 degrees Celsius. You put your left hand into the water at 5 degrees Celsius and your right hand into the water at 65 degrees Celsius. After one minute, you withdraw your hands and introduce them simultaneously into the water at 35 degrees Celsius. With your left hand you will feel that the water is hot and with your right hand you will feel that it is cold. If it is the first time you do this experiment, you might be surprised and ask: if I feel the same mass of water hot and cold simultaneously, what does it mean? Is the water hot or cold, or is this something that should not be predicated of water, but of something else? If cold and hot are opposed predicates they could not be said of the same object at the same time; therefore, they must be predicated of something else, but what is it? You can introduce one mercury thermometer (A) in the water at 5 degrees Celsius and another (B) in the water at 65 degrees Celsius and keep them there for one minute. Then you withdraw them and introduce both into the water at 35 degrees Celsius. You could be able to observe that the column of thermometer A will grow and the column of thermometer B will decrease. But I believe this time you would not be so surprised thinking that the same water could produce opposed effects. And if you had some level of knowledge about thermal energy transfer (Heat), you could imagine that if the transfer of energy from the water to thermometer A produces the growth of its column, so the transfer of energy from the water to your left hand produces your feeling of hotness; and if the transfer of energy from thermometer B to the water produces the decrease in size of its column, analogously the transfer of energy from your right hand to the water produces your feeling of coldness.

So, you interact with the water and then you make efforts to explain what is happening. This explanation is what I call “knowledge”, “relation”, or “imitation”. This knowledge allows you to predict what could happen in other circumstances. So, it proves to be powerful, but limited at the same time. This is also what Aristotle called Theory, but I am not sure if he was aware that it was actually not a “vision”, but a projection, and that as such it had an inherent weakness or limitation. Do you see it, Imelahn?

Best regards
JuanFlorencio

 

[lmelahn]

Imelahn, I don’t think your analogy of the orange tree is apt. If an orange tree were to produce an apple it would be readily apparent. If a cat were to abstract the universal concept of ‘tree’ within its brain, how would we know?

Abstraction never occurs in isolation; there are a whole series of intellectual capabilities that go along with it. That is why humans have true language, can reason, can consider abstract concepts, and so on. It is fairly easy to see (even without language) if an animal knows what something is, not just how that thing affects it, here and now. And so far, human beings are the only ones who do the former.

I don’t know what you mean by ‘spiritual’. This word is used and mis-used in so many ways that it has almost lost its value.

By “spiritual” I mean that which pertains to the reality that transcends the material world. Human beings are capable of things that no animal could do: intellectual knowledge and free volition. Whatever is the principle of those kinds of actions is “spiritual.”

It seems to me that you’ve moved the goal-posts somewhat. We were discussing whether or not we can safely conclude that cats cannot abstract a universal concept. But here you are asserting that cats have no intellectual capacities because they display no rationality. If a cat avoids a certain garden, because every time it went there it was chased by a ferocious dog, it is surely displaying a very rational behaviour.

Here, I think we are using the term “rational” in two different senses.

An action can be called “rational” when it is in conformity with the goals of the individual who produces it. (Like when we say that it is “reasonable” to stay away from ferocious dogs that could harm us.)

Or it could be “rational” when it is produced by an intellect, not simply by the sensual faculties.

The cat’s actions are “rational” in the first sense, but not in the second.

The cat runs away from the dog, I grant you. But does a cat know what a dog is?

No, I don’t think this is the point here. When I was a child and gained an understanding of the concept of ‘tree’, did I understand what I was doing? I don’t think so. Understanding the process of abstraction is not required in order to abstract a concept.

I don’t mean that we have to understand the abstraction process (even most human beings don’t know that)—I mean that, when we know something by a truly intellectual abstraction, the end result is that we know what that thing is.

Cats show a remarkable memory, but they don’t demonstrate knowledge of what things are. (If they did, you would be able to see the result right away: they would soon learn that “dogs bark” and would avoid even non-barking dogs; they would eventually realize that it is not “barking” that really harms them, and so would find inventive ways to torture the dogs that chase them…and so on.)

I don’t think that researchers have agreed this. The debate about the extent to which apes can learn language is still ongoing, as far as I can tell. You seem much more prepared to reach a conclusion on this matter than I am. Perhaps we can agree that certain non-human animals can attain some level of basic language ability, but perhaps not sufficient to ever communicate at the level required to demonstrate if they can abstract a universal concept.

What is for sure is that no ape has ever done more than memorize signs and be able to recognize phrases in English. (And many authors are rather disappointed about this, frankly.) Gorillas and chimpanzees are quite clever as animals, but they remain (sub-human) animals. An animal with a truly intellectual capacity would quickly have taken advantage of the signs it learned in order to communicate with its teacher.

Contrast Koko and Wahsoe (a Chimpanzee) with Hellen Keller (the famous deaf-and-blind woman who learned sign language), who underwent, externally speaking, a very similar training. It is well known that Keller experienced a breakthrough moment in which she finally understood that the sings she was being taught had a meaning. At that point, her learning increased exponentially. Anthropoids never experience this epiphany.

There is a qualitative difference between the knowledge humans have and the knowledge that animals have, not merely a difference of degree.