Causal and Logical Relations

Is this an untenable dualism? Are the two relations really that distinct? Isn’t one a special case of the other? The OED defines “cause” as “a person or thing that gives rise to an action, phenomenon, or condition” and “reasonable grounds for a belief or action” (notice it doesn’t say “event”). The operative notions are “gives rise to” and “grounds”—what gives rise to or grounds what is left open. We might paraphrase this using the concept of a reason: a cause is a reason for something. We could say a cause is what leads to something, has it as a consequence, entrains it. Thus, causal relations are ubiquitous and topic-neutral: where there are reasons there are causes. Consider the classic syllogism about Socrates and mortality: we can paraphrase it as “the cause of Socrates’ being mortal is that Socrates is a man and all men are mortal”. That’s the reason he is mortal, what brings it about, makes it the case. We could equally say, “Socrates will die because he is a biological being and all biological beings die”. Similarly, we can say that the cause of Socrates’ death was that he drank hemlock and any man dies who drinks hemlock. The cause is a combination of a general law and a particular fact. The logical syllogism is a way of stating a causal relation. The corresponding causal statement “the cause of Socrates’ being mortal is his being a man and the law that all men are mortal” could be formulated in the classic syllogistic style. There is nothing mutually exclusive here. Premises give rise to or ground conclusions, and causes give rise or ground things of various categories. Causes have consequences and so do premises.

You might object that logical arguments give rise to propositions as conclusions whereas causes are events that have events as effects. This is wrong on both counts. Logical arguments connect facts (states of affairs, situations) expressed by propositions (sentences, statements); and causation connects facts too, viz. general and particular facts (laws and individuals). Facts give rise to other facts, so they cause them (are the reason for them). We have been taught to have an overly propositional view of logical relations, as if they are somehow about language; and we have also been taught to have an overly simple “event” conception of causal relations, as if the causal relation locally links isolated events in time. But logical relations are not fundamentally about propositions or language but about objects and properties; and causal relations centrally involve general causal laws as instantiated by particular objects. We must not confuse epistemology with metaphysics: maybe it’s true that we manipulate propositions in our thought when thinking logically, and maybe all we perceive of causation are particular events separated in time; but these are epistemological points, not points about what constitutes logical and causal consequence—the metaphysics of logic and causation.

The practical syllogism is instructive here: the conclusion of such a piece of logical reasoning is an action not a proposition about an action. It is desirable to eat when hungry; I am hungry; therefore, I eat. This is pure causality: the general law combines with the particular fact to cause the act of eating. Not all logical reasoning issues in belief in a proposition; some issues in actual action, a type of occurrence. Indeed, we can generalize the practical syllogism to include what might be called the causal syllogism: immersing sugar in water dissolves it; this piece of sugar is immersed in water; therefore, it dissolves. The conclusion logically follows from the premises. Logic is a lot more far-reaching, capacious, than the standard logic textbooks would lead you to believe. There is such a thing as causal logic. Thus, logical consequence is a species of causal consequence, and causal consequence is logically structured. Logic isn’t about language-dependent non-worldly things divorced from the causal order; and causation isn’t about brute causal relations between isolated events (like beads on a string or successive flashes of light). Logic relates general and particular facts, and causation likewise relates general and particular facts. Logic and causation are identical! This is an identity theory couched at the level of underlying metaphysics. It isn’t that logical relations are abstract and other-worldly (think Platonic heaven); and it isn’t that causation is grubbily this-worldly (think Aristotelian form and matter). Causation is logical and logic is causal. The old dichotomy is a dogma of empiricism andrationalism—for both were wedded to a logic-causation dualism. The reason for insisting on the dichotomy was that epistemology was being confused with metaphysics—too much stress on what is revealed to the senses, or not revealed to them. In their nature they are closely entwined. Logic is closer to causation that we recognized, and causation is closer to logic than we recognized. Both involve an injection of necessity and the necessity is essentially the same—the necessity of “giving rise to” and “grounding”. It always felt uncomfortable to sharply separate the two given their intuitive affinity, and now we see that it was wrong to do so. Logic is woven into causality and causality is woven into logic. Logical relations are causal relations and causal relations are logical relations.

I am well aware of how radical this proposal will sound, but the novelty is largely a verbal matter. We must not use “logic” and “cause” in the narrow senses that have become customary in academic philosophy, especially post-positivist analytical philosophy. These uses accentuate a divide that is unreal from a loftier perspective; they have become tendentious technical uses. That is why I started with the dictionary, so that we could regain a sense of their ordinary meaning. Logic is about reasoning and rational connections; causation is about dependence and reasons for things: these concepts are broad enough to encompass each other, to make room for each other. Thus, the position is really quite untheoretical and commonsense.[1]

[1] The legal sense of “cause” nicely combines the logical and triggering connotations of the term: you can only arrest someone “for cause”, i.e., if there are grounds to arrest them—then an arrest can be triggered. It is the same with the locution “a good cause”: this suggests a justifying ground as well as something that can elicit action (“something deserving of support”, as the OED says). The word “reason” comes closest to “cause” as ordinarily understood. Causation is certainly not restricted to events of hitting or bridges collapsing or short circuits; it isn’t always about striking happenings, more or less spectacular. In the proper wide sense of the word, it becomes trivial that reasons cause actions, since they are precisely reasons for actions. The words “cause” and “because” are virtual synonyms.

Perception and Propositions

In order to have a theory of the origins of knowledge one needs an account of the origins of the proposition, i.e., propositional thought. How do we come to grasp propositions? It is notable that empiricists don’t venture an answer; they stick to the origins of concepts (“ideas”). They vaguely suppose that concepts combine in some unspecified way to produce propositional thoughts that correspond in some way with reality. They don’t suppose that perceptions (“impressions”) possess propositional content—rightly so. So, they don’t hold that thought content is abstracted from perceptual content: they don’t suppose that the content of propositional knowledge is a “faint copy” of the propositional content of perceptions. What would that even mean? Perception just doesn’t have propositional content prior to the formation of propositional thought (or knowledge). So, they have no account of the origins of our knowledge of propositional structure—our propositional competence. This will involve logical relations and knowledge thereof. For all they have said, the rationalists are right about this—it is a priori and innate. Therefore, empiricism is not true even of our most basic knowledge (“That’s red”). Perception alone cannot explain propositions. Suppose they abandoned their non-propositional view of perception and claimed that perception does embed propositions. Then they would face the question of where these propositions come from—for they can’t come from non-propositional perception. They would again fall into the hands of the rationalists who would insist that such propositional structure must be a priori and innate. Thus, propositions refute empiricism.[1]

[1] The case is rather like knowledge of language: you can’t derive knowledge of grammar from knowledge of the lexicon, so even if the latter were empirically acquired it would not follow that the former is so acquired. For example, in the case of non-linguistic knowledge, knowledge of the operation of predication cannot be derived from perception of physical objects, even if knowledge of red can be so derived.

American Shrinkage

The American shield is down, Europe is on its own, isolationism is back, protectionism is preferred, xenophobia is rampant, paranoia prevails. This is the new world order under Trump. Europe will have to save Ukraine, if anything can. Canada hates America. France, Germany, and Great Britain have had it with the American government. How long before US troop withdrawals from around the globe come into effect? South Korea will get nervous, and even Germany, not to speak of the Baltic states. The American presence will be greatly reduced. All this is pretty obvious and generally recognized (though not widely admitted in America itself). We will be living in a fragmented world with a global power vacuum at its center. What happens will be up for grabs.

A country is more than its geographical boundaries; there is also its culture, its reputation, its attraction. American culture has dominated for the last eighty years as America has exercised a (mostly) benign foreign policy, both economic and military. This is now over, or is beginning to be over. America was everywhere—its sphere of influence was global. The world was largely an American world, culturally, politically. America was respected, if not always universally loved. Individual Americans were world-famous. This was a cohesive world, a reassuring world. But it is over. From now on we will be living in a broken world, in which other lines of power and influence will be drawn. America will shrink. It will become small. It used to be small and it will be small again. Making America great again will result in making America small again (MASA). The world is turning against America; it wants nothing more to do with America. Hence, American shrinkage.

What about the universities? Again, the situation looks bleak. Overzealous DEI was bad enough, but overzealous anti-DEI is worse (why must Americans always overdo everything?). Fewer foreign students will study here; international academic exchange will dwindle; intellectual life will suffer. American universities used to be mediocre—will they become so again? The country will become stupider and more philistine. American philosophy is already in bad shape and it is bound to get worse as American isolation kicks in. The American accent will grate on everyone’s nerves (isn’t Trump’s voice the ugliest ever?). A general chill will set in.

How will all this affect the internal state of America? This too is perfectly predictable: there will be domestic division, even hostility. States will become alienated from each other; people will not mingle; distrust and dislike will be the norm. There will be two Americas: the part that yearns for old alliances, and the part that is happy in its isolation. The America that Trump is trying to create will be a very small America, even within the landmass it occupies. America will no longer be a unified country, as the world will no longer be unified by American ideals and American power. To break alliances is a recipe for self-impoverishment. What kind of country will America be? What kind of world will exist if things keep going as they have been? A warring world (military and economic), a world without unity and shared purpose, a world of squabbling superpowers? Perhaps America will be a country of gold-plated toilets and diamond-studded chainsaws, owned by the fortunate few, but will it be a country worth living in?

Intelligence and Politics

Have you noticed how bad people are at talking about politics? Of course you have. Why? Is it because they are riddled with prejudice, brainwashed, of low IQ, uneducated, mentally lazy? I don’t think so; I think it’s because politics is hard. It’s just so complicated, so all-encompassing, so full of uncertainty. The human mind is just not up to the task. Think what you need to know in order to think and talk competently about politics: economics, psychology, history, morality, philosophy, law, science, military strategy. All of these can enter into a political question, because politics is about war and peace, the creation and distribution of wealth, systems of government, what happened in the past, what might happen in the future, what should be legal and illegal, what is right and wrong, the sources of human action, the role of scientific knowledge in society. No one person commands such a wide field of knowledge; so, everyone is an amateur to one degree or another. Yet people yearn to have political opinions, because politics matters. They therefore oversimplify, ignore relevant information, take a stand, repeat themselves, get fixated. You never hear so much stupidity as in a political discussion. Emotion takes the place of reason, because reason is stretched to the limit. No one wants to admit they just don’t know what to think. Politics is best left to professionals and even they are not up to the job. It’s just too much to hold together in the mind. There is no textbook you can study to give you all the answers, no finite set of rules that covers all cases. No one is a political genius in full possession of the subject.