Aleksander Alafuzoff
Tikkurilan lukio, Vantaa, Finland
I.
One could assert that certainty has always been the holy grail of
philosophy. While anyone can assert anything he pleases, there is
something inherently satisfying in explicating an absolute truth, one that
cannot be subjected to doubt. In fact, it could be argued that philosophy,
as the love of knowledge, seeks this kind of certainty: after all
knowledge does imply a sort of timelessness and objective truth. However,
in seeking out the certainty of knowledge, philosophy often leads to
questioning of that, which was originally thought of as knowledge. In this
sense, philosophy can also be seen as a "negative" discipline; a
discipline, which culls the fields of assumed knowledge. The quote from
Bertrand Russell's The Problems of Philosophy (1912) addresses this
duality by admitting the "negative" aspects of philosophy, while
proclaiming its value in broadening scope of thought.
Arguing for philosophy as a "negative" discipline is a mistake, if
Russell's quote is considered properly. Russell states that philosophy
diminishes "our feeling of certainty", which is probably taken for a
criticism of philosophy as a "negative science". However, to call
philosophy a "negative" discipline has implications beyond what Russell
states: a "negative science" is one that does not provide anything it only
limits the breadth of knowledge. Although somewhat hidden in the quote, it
is clear that Russell does not mean to call into question the nature of
philosophy. To explicate this better, one must notice the use of the word
"feeling". In a context discussing certainty, the use of the word "feeling"
is oddly misplaced. A feeling does not and cannot convey the certainty
that philosophy requires. An arachnophobe may feel frightened, threatened
even in the presence of a spider, yet this conveys no knowledge of the
spider's intentions or nature. From a philosophical perspective the term "feeling
of certainty" is a complete misnomer; from a Wittgensteinian point of view
the combinational use of these words in a philosophical context is an
error. Considering the context once again, Russell's statement seems to be
at least partly ironic.
If Russell is not arguing for a "negative" view of philosophy, some other
quality must imply this thought. This quality could be defined as the fear
of doubt. Certainty, even a false one, is probably a much more pleasant
feeling than uncertainty. In some ways this idea is implied in the
classical texts themselves: the debates between the stoics and Socrates in
some of Plato's works imply a dread balance between assumed certainty and
doubt. For example, in one of the discussions Aristotle shows the
problematic nature of the issue that is now referred to as the "divine
command theory". Socrates’ (or in this context, more properly, Plato's)
method of doubt and questioning revealed the underlying and unargued
assertions of the stoics and many other characters. From history or rather
Aristotle's ultimate fate, it seems that the people whose assertions were
analysed in this fashion were not happy with the dissolution of their "knowledge".
Most probably a similar mentality is dominant today as well.
Philosophy cannot be taken as a objectively "negative" discipline. While
philosophy certainly does show or at least aims to show "false knowledge"
from actual knowledge, this does not affect true knowledge in any way. If
knowledge truly exist objectively, irrespective of anyone or -thing, no
amount of philosophical analysis can disrupt it. Furthermore, it is rather
naïve to feel resentment for loss of assumptions: they had no true value
to begin with. Thus, while philosophy can be felt to be a "negative"
discipline, this feeling is for nothing more than a foolish illusion; a
reminiscence for misunderstanding.
Regardless of philosophy's status as a non-"negative" discipline, there
still remains a need for philosophy as a positive discipline: one that
provides new knowledge. Knowledge or "true justified belief" requires
certainty. While the concept of truth itself implies permanence and hence
certainty, the real issue here is the word "justified". If one cannot
justify a "true belief", it cannot be held to be knowledge. Furthermore,
to justify a belief one must become relatively convinced of the certainty
of the belief. If one cannot be certain of the truth of a belief, it
cannot be justified. Hence, certainty is an integral part of knowledge.
Naturally one might prompt for a different definition of knowledge.
However, even then it is very difficult or perhaps even impossible to
imagine uncertain knowledge.
One of the classical example of a truth provided by philosophy is
Descartes' "Cogito ergo sum" (I think, therefore I am). Quite ironically
this discovery was made by Descartes, who was a proponent of the method of
doubt that arguably restricts the domain of knowledge. The method as used
by Descartes, while providing quite interesting insights into the nature
of thought, showed that many thoughts could be traced back to deception,
yet one truth remained: there were thoughts. From this Descartes inferred
that something, the proverbial "I" must exist. In fact, Descartes'
inference has been thoroughly criticised by reapplication of the method of
doubt; Descartes observed only one certainty "there are thoughts". While
Descartes' argument does shed a curious light on something most people
consider "intimately familiar", the issue at hand here is arguably that of
the method of arriving at the (modified) piece of "certain" knowledge.
Thus, it seems that there is something special with the method of doubt:
while it reduces the scope of knowledge to its limit, it also increases
the amount of certainty until an absolute is reached. Naturally the
certainty of Descartes' (and his contemporaries') statement can
hypothetically be questioned, the point of the matter is that humans
cannot categorically question this statement. Thus, while hypothetically
it can be questioned whether or not Descartes' conclusion is certain, this
questioning can play no part in rational discourse, such as that found in
philosophy.
In addition to the method of doubt, there is at least one other process,
which can at least superficially provide knowledge: the method of
contradiction. The method of contradiction is the basis of analytic
statements, which categorically cannot be doubted. To question the
certainty of a statement like "all unmarried males are unmarried" (1) is
entirely non-sensical, even to a greater extent than questioning Descartes'
conclusion. One should here that the example provided is far more than a
simple analytic statement like "All bachelors are unmarried" (2). (1) is a
logical truth, which remains absolutely true regardless of the words
substituted for unmarried and male. (2), on the other hand, is seemingly
synonymous with (1), a matter that has been questioned. Although ever so
slightly beside the point, the analyticity and therefore certainty of most
analytic statements has been questioned. Willard Van Orman Quine argues in
his essay Two Dogmas of Empiricism that statements similar to (2) cannot
be reduced to logical truths of the likes of (1). Thus, it has not been
objectively established whether or not more ambiguous analytic statements
(eg. (2)) are actually analytic and certain.
The method of contradiction is unaffected by Quine's attack, as it
functions on an entirely different level. The method of contradiction
deals with the logical impossibility of the contradiction of statements
like (1). While statements like (2) can be examined by application of the
method of contradiction, its primary focus is set on showing the certainty
of logical statements of the likes of (1). However, in providing certainty,
like the method of doubt, the method of contradiction restricts the domain
of statements to an absolute. Logically true statements like (1) cannot,
unfortunately, provide new information. Yet there are certain cases where
fundamentally similar statements can be very useful: mathematics.
Contemporary analyses of the nature of mathematics are a prime example of
philosophy revealing and dealing with familiar things from an unfamiliar
point of view. One modern interpretation of mathematics provided by the
philosopher Ayer, argues that mathematics and mathematical methods are
nothing more than incredibly complicated tautologies. The methods of
mathematics are nothing more than processes whereby one may satisfy
himself of the validity of a complicated tautology. Ayer's point of view
is a very interesting, albeit an unclassical one. Yet it portrays the
nature of philosophical inquiry in a very clear way: philosophical inquiry
may "show familiar things in an unfamiliar aspect".
In conclusion, the nature of philosophy, as a non-"negative" discipline,
has been expounded to a degree. Furthermore, some evidence has been shown
for positive aspects of philosophy. Therefore, one may easily accept
Bertrand Russell's statements of the nature of philosophy as a valid point
of view. Philosophy is a stimulating and intellectually satisfying
endeavour, one that should be protected and supported.