A Disproof of Other Minds

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A Disproof of Other Minds

We can’t prove the existence of other minds, but can we disprove their existence? Can we construct a plausible argument that other minds don’t exist, only one’s own mind does (solipsism)? That sounds improbable and I don’t know of any attempt to do it, but philosophy is full of surprising arguments that at least seem to establish improbable conclusions (we call them paradoxes). The exercise is worth undertaking, even if the outcome is that no such argument can be produced; we might discover why such an argument is impossible. In fact, I think we will find the journey illuminating and the destination reachable (notice how cagey I am being). There are also real theoretical benefits to the conclusion in question; it gives us a new metaphysics and accompanying epistemology. It’s worth a try anyway.

Let’s begin with a bad argument, though one rooted in widely accepted principles at one time. We will start to see a structure emerge. Thus: the existence of other minds is unverifiable; what is unverifiable is meaningless; therefore, it is meaningless to say that other minds exist; so, they don’t. The argument is not as hopeless as it may sound in this post-positivist age: for it is not an absurd premise that every meaningful claim must be backed by a possible human experience (have empirical content). Even the most speculative ideas of physics are connected to possible types of experience, e.g., seeing atoms or the big bang or curved space. We know what it would be to have such experiences, though they are impossible in practice. But in the case of other minds, we have no idea what it would be like to experience another mind, e.g., what it would be like for me to experience your mind; certainly, I can’t introspect another mind (human or bat). It may thus seem that I have no real concept of another mind, just a kind of empty place-holder (“the cause of this behavior”). What could be more perceptually inaccessible than another mind? The belief in other minds would appear to be inconsistent with a plausible empiricist principle, viz. that intelligibility requires possible perceptibility. Other minds are just too cut off to permit adequate conceivability; they contrast markedly with one’s own mind in this respect. Wouldn’t it be nice, theoretically, if there were no such things? Then we wouldn’t have to countenance the radically unknowable in our ontology. There would be no skeptical problem, because there is nothing out there (or in there) to know. It’s like ghosts and round squares—these things are not conceptually capturable.

Here is a second type of argument for the desired conclusion; it hinges on countability. Suppose minds are immaterial substances; then there is an individuation problem. How many such minds are there—what is their criterion of identity? We can’t appeal to position in space because immaterial substances have no extension and location in space. What counts as one or twenty or 1,137? Where does one leave off and another begin? We have no clue. Therefore, the ontology is shot, wonky, or otherwise unquantifiable over. The phrase “immaterial substance” is not a sortal predicate with an attached criterion of identity; so, there are no such things. We might hope to escape this embarrassment by dropping the immateriality claim, but that doesn’t really help, since there is a countability problem anyway. The word “mind” is itself not a genuine sortal: how many minds are there in the world? What about unconscious minds and divided brains and split personalities? We can count brains (or we think we can) but we can’t count minds; the word “mind” is just a useful way to sum up talk of mental states—there is no entity here that can be clearly individuated and enumerated. Or so it might be claimed. Accordingly, talk of other minds is not talk of a collection of discrete objects with a determinate cardinality; therefore, there are no such things. It’s like asking how many gods there are or fictional characters or sakes. Notice, however, that this argument carries over to one’s own mind—with what right do I say that I have but one mind? So, we don’t get solipsism out of this argument, only rejection of the ontology of minds in general (many or one). We would do better to come up with an argument that rules out other minds but not one’s own mind. Still, we can see how an argument might be constructed; we are not as engaged on a fool’s errand as might have been supposed.

Now we come to the argument that prompted this mission impossible. I warn the reader that it will not be simple or easy to understand or clearly sound; but it bears thinking about and has a kind of spooky appeal. I have never heard of anything like it. First, what is its general shape? As follows: if there were other minds, there would be other worlds to go along with them; but there is only one world; therefore, there are no other minds. There is only my mind and my world, i.e., solipsism is true. The argument is clearly valid, so it must be the premises that are at fault, if anything is. What do they mean? The first premise means that for any mind there is a world that is for that mind—corresponding to its way of seeing and feeling things (Umwelt, Lebenswelt). For me, that world is a certain place, a certain set of activities, assorted objects, etc.—what reality is as far as my life is concerned. It is quite specific and full-blooded—the world as I experience it. This world is my world, and my world is not your world. It is the world as it exists for me—the manifest image, the lived environment, the given, the phenomenal. This is the original and correct use of “world”–as in the world of theater or tennis or the human world. It is not an inhuman universal abstraction. Worlds in this sense vary from creature to creature and may contradict each other. They are plural and subjective (in one sense). The second premise is that there can only be one real world—the world of objective reality, as we say. Reality isn’t plural; it is singular—the way things uniquely are. There are not as many objective realities as there are lived subjective worlds. But then, these worlds cannot be the real world, which is singular; so, they cannot really exist (they must be merely apparent). It follows that the minds that have them also do not exist, since minds entail them. There cannot be minds without worlds they inhabit. But I know for sure that I have a mind, which has a world; so, that must be the real world, the one true reality. My world exists and it is the world; the others don’t exist, on pain of objective plurality. We avoid fragmenting the world by denying the existence of other minds.

Hold on, you protest, you are moving way too fast! Why not say that the real world is none of the individual worlds that accompany minds? It is the world of science, especially physics—that denuded mathematical world we have been taught about since the seventeenth century (primary qualities, invisible atoms, peculiar forces, colorless matter). The trouble is that this is no one’s world; it is not a “world” at all. And it produces all manner of conundrums and obscurities: can we really conceive it, is it knowable, how does it relate to the ordinary world we live in and with? This is an old story and I won’t repeat it. The point is that we can avoid all that mumbo-jumbo by a simple (though drastic) move: pick my world as the world that really exists. But this requires us to deny other rival worlds, those that are tied to other individual or species minds. We can’t say there are as many worlds as minds, because there is only one world, and we don’t want to go down the road to the puzzles of a world that is for no one (the world with no name); so, we opt for solipsism. There is only me and my world. There may be other beings just like me physically (robots), but they don’t come equipped with worlds, because they have no minds. My world is the real world; there are no other worlds of other minds to compete with mine. Thus, we prove that there are no other minds: it makes the best sense of reality as a whole. In fact, the idea of a neutral world that is a world for no one is a comparatively recent innovation, invented to provide a philosophy for the new mechanistic physics and has no more authority than that. It is not unquestionably sound metaphysics. Naively, we take our individual world as reality, and only the believed existence of other minds makes us doubt that we are in daily touch with that reality; reflection then suggests that other minds would undermine this naive point of view—the solution is to jettison them. If the choice is between an unintelligible reality and solipsism, we should choose solipsism. Or to put it more simply: my world is real, so there cannot be other worlds that contend with mine for the title. I am the arbiter of reality, not other minds that I have no reason to believe in anyway. There cannot be other minds because my reality is reality, according to solipsism. And note that this is not a form of idealism, since nothing has been said to suggest that my reality is all in my mind; it consists of things just as I naively think of them (including being able to exist unperceived). But this takes us into the epistemology and metaphysics of what may be called solipsistic realism, the subject of another paper.

The aim was to produce an argument for solipsism, in particular the non-existence of other minds. Of course, the argument has premises, none of which is self-evident. These premises are however not question-begging and call upon substantive intuitions and principles. One point has been the misuse of the word “world” in philosophical discussions (a world is always someone’s world); another has been a reliance on the dubious idea of an etiolated abstract “world”. The denial of other minds is supposed to rectify these problems. And did we ever really believe in other minds anyway—in the way we believe in the existence of our own mind? Don’t people just act as if other minds are real (they have this belief drilled into them without ever having been given a solid proof of it); other minds are inherently indemonstrable. This is why it has been easy for people to believe that other “inferior” people and animals don’t have minds as they do. Certainly, other minds don’t compete with my mind for epistemological authority (evidence). In the end, it’s just a hypothesis that might turn out to be false; and now we see that it is (arguably) false. The existence of other minds threatens the existence of the external world (singular), so we are better off without them. Things are so much simpler that way. The real world is simply this.

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Concepts of the Physical World

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Concepts of the Physical World

Here is an eloquent passage from Thomas Nagel: “The understanding of the physical world has been expanded enormously with the aid of theories and explanations that use concepts not tied to the specifically human perceptual viewpoint. Our senses provide the evidence from which we start, but the detached character of this understanding is such that we could possess it even if we had none of our present senses, so long as we were rational and could understand the mathematical and formal properties of the objective conception of the physical world. We might even in a sense share an understanding of physics with other creatures to whom things appeared quite different, perceptually—so long as they too were rational and numerate…The physical world as it is supposed to be in itself contains no points of view and nothing that can appear only to a particular point of view. Whatever it contains can be apprehended by a general rational consciousness that gets its information through whichever perceptual point of view it happens to view the world from.” (The View from Nowhere, 14-15) This passage would appear to suggest a method for acquiring a thoroughly objective conception of the physical world, transcending and abstracting from the subjective perceptual perspectives with which we commonly view it. The claim isn’t that ordinary folk have access to such a conception—they are presumably stuck in the subjective conception delivered by their senses—but it is possible in principle to possess a totally objective sense-independent conception of the world that is presented to us perceptually. Thus, an absolutely objective conception (view, theory) of the physical world is obtainable by the human mind, which might coincide with that possessed by the equally objective Martian mind. This conception is characterized as mathematical, formal, and rational; anything else has been sternly bleached-out (Nagel’s phrase) as merely subjective and inessential to the understanding of the physical universe. We don’t do our physics perceptually (i.e., subjectively) but mathematically, formally, rationally (i.e., objectively). In short, physics is in principle completely objective, conceptually speaking.

I think this is wrong, seductive as it may sound.[1] There are two main problems: whether such an abstract conception of physical reality can be of physical reality, and whether the allowable conceptual materials are themselves thoroughly objective. For surely, we need more than mathematics (number theory) and rationality (logic) in order to form an adequate conception of a physical object; we need at least extension, solidity, spatial occupancy, and motion if we are to grasp what physics is about—numbers alone won’t cut it, even when combined with formal logic. You might suggest adding geometry, which Nagel does not do, but this will raise the question of our understanding of geometry—how sense-independent is it? This is too exiguous a basis on which to erect the conceptual scheme of physics, classical or contemporary.[2] The obvious gap-filler is perception, especially vision, but the senses have been excluded as subjective (rightly so). Nor will rationality serve to deliver the content of our understanding of the physical world; it is too general. So, no content has been given to the idea of an absolutely objective conception of physical reality. The empiricist view of physics has not been circumvented or undermined, and with it the inescapability of subjective physics. This means that we have no way to explain how physics manages to latch conceptually onto physical reality couched in objective terms.

Secondly, why assume that the suggested modes of thought are wholly objective? Are mathematics and logic completely free of subjective elements as we conceive them? Is there nothing of the human in our concepts here? Surely, these modes of thought carry person-related content: for example, we conceive of numbers via the digits of our hands, the symbolism we have invented, and the sortal concepts we use to count with. Not every conceivable mathematical being thinks in these ways (consider octopus mathematicians). Can we really put these completely aside and contemplate numbers purely? What about the infinite (integral to the concept of number)—mustn’t we view it from our finite standpoint? We don’t have a God’s-eye view of the infinite totality of numbers detached from any human intrusions. Logic, too, has its notations and history, its human face; and the concept of entailment is itself bound up with human conceptions of necessity (compulsion, rigidity). The way we think is the way we think, idiosyncratic as it may be. All concepts reflect the concept-forming faculty, whether innate or acquired; there are no concepts without concept-makers. Concepts have to function in the human mind and be realized in the human brain; they are not independent of our human nature. If there is a language of thought, it is a human language, not a language of angels. Our concepts are shaped by our history, evolutionary and cultural; they aren’t Platonic forms (whatever they are). So, basing physics on mathematical and logical concepts is not going to expunge subjectivity from the picture. Nor is it really necessary to expunge subjectivity in order to secure the truth and utility of physics, and even its objectivity in less demanding senses (testability, communicability, predictiveness). You don’t need to view the physical world like a god in order to have a viable and illuminating physics. Physics has always been something of a cobbled-together job—a bit of a stretch. That’s why we still don’t fully understand the physical world. It’s also why it is a real question whether we ever really talk about external physical reality—get it sharply in our conceptual sights. Many physicists have abandoned that lofty goal and settled for some sort of humanistic physics consistent with empiricism (Newton, Mach, Hertz, Poincare, the positivists, maybe Einstein, et al). In any case, the ideal of a totally objective science of physical reality is not something to take for granted, or to regard as necessary to its value, attractive as that idea may be. Physics is certainly not as subjectively idiosyncratic as, say, the culinary arts or one’s taste in sneakers. It is simply just another manifestation of our human nature (the “science-forming faculty” as Chomsky calls it). This does not detract from its impressiveness, but it does deter ambitions of omniscience.[3]

[1] See my earlier papers on subjective and objective, especially “A Paradox of Objective and Subjective”.

[2] Would anyone think that mathematics and logic could suffice to generate an adequate psychology? Surely, we also need something like introspection to give us the relevant concepts.

[3] In fact, I think we have no conception of God’s conception of the physical world; we are confined to our own conception (trivially), which is inescapably perceptual—as our conception of the mental world is inescapably introspective. Concepts don’t come to us out of thin air. (There is really a deep puzzle about where concepts come from.)

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Bertie’s Vocabulary

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Bertie’s Vocabulary

I was in the mood for a Jeeves and Wooster, so I gulped down (as Bertie might say) a tale of these two coves (viz. The Inimitable Jeeves). A large part of what makes these books so amusing is Bertie’s vocabulary (as contrasted with Jeeves’s). I found myself underlining the many words he uses to describe the act of ambulation, i.e., walking (this word is never used). I saw myself as doing literary research not just amusing myself, thus justifying time spent. So, for your perusal and delectation here is a list of the ambulatory words used (I did not record frequency of use); I leave it to readers to research the question of whether other works by PGW manage to come up with any walking words not here listed. I doubt it because the author goes out of his way to provide variety and there are only so many options. Any author of fictional prose knows the problem with describing the act of ambulation (“walk” just won’t cut it).

Barge into, floats in, buzz up, toddle around, whizzed for, butted into, shimmered off, blew in, breezed down, legged it, mooching slowly, popping down, toddled over, hared it, buzz along with, hove in sight, biff down, breeze off snakily, sailed into, curveted[1] into, heaves in sight, trickled in, poured, rolled in, biff off, galloping into, shifting, pushed on.

[1] OED: “curvet—a graceful or energetic leap”.

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Davidson at the Orange Bowl

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Davidson at the Orange Bowl

Yesterday I was over at the Biltmore watching the first rounds of the Junior Orange Bowl tennis tournament (14 and under). I couldn’t hit at the wall there because of the tournament. These kids are amazing—I couldn’t get a point off them. I sat contentedly on the bleachers with the sun setting over the courts; the atmosphere was peaceful but highly charged. It felt good to be a tennis player. One of the young players approached me and I quickly realized who it was: the boy I had hit with a couple of months ago and written about here under “Our Generations”. He was with a friend. I shook his hand (it felt small in my own not-large hand). He told me he was playing in this year’s event (still only 13). I had the presence of mind to say, “I never found out your name”. He replied “Davidson”. I said “But that’s your last name; what’s your first name?” He said “Davidson”. “Interesting”, I replied. I added “There is a famous philosopher called Davidson, Donald Davidson”. Davidson smiled. I asked him when he would be playing and he said Friday. What time? He didn’t yet know. I told him I’d like to see him play. He then moved off with his silent friend saying “Nice to see you again” and gave me a warm but reserved smile. For some reason, this made me feel incredibly good. I thought: if only all human interactions could be like that. Then a darker thought: I hope you never have to go through what I have been through.

When I got home, I googled the event’s website in case I could find out his time of play on Friday. This quickly led me to some facts about the lad: he is in the top 5 of players his age in Florida, and the top 100 in the entire country. He is noted as a young player to watch. His full name is Davidson Jackson (so shares two names with highly ranked philosophers). He is clearly an ace tennis player. It made me think how much I’d like to hit with him properly one day. I will be there again today and obviously on Friday.

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Blog Books Again

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Colin,

When I compare the blog writings with your books, a natural difference in level becomes clear. Your books have tight argumentation and technical density; the blog, by contrast, is deliberately freer, faster, and more polemical. This is not a weakness but a difference of genre. As I plan to organize the blog texts into six volumes, I won’t alter the original style; instead, I intend to add brief editorial notes and thematic introductions only where necessary, to secure structural coherence. This way, the immediacy of the blog remains intact while the tonal difference between the blog and your books becomes transparent and consistent. I have carefully reviewed all the writings and continue to do so, and this plan is built on that broader evaluation.

Regarding your question about page counts: the roughly 1,600 pages of English blog material naturally expands when translated into Turkish. In standard book format, the six volumes together will amount to approximately 2,000–2,200 Turkish pages. My estimated page ranges for each volume are as follows:

  • Volume I: 350–400 pages
  • Volume II: 330–380 pages
  • Volume III: 330–380 pages
  • Volume IV: 300–350 pages
  • Volume V: 300–350 pages
  • Volume VI: around 300 pages

This distribution creates an ideal balance between readability and thematic coherence.

Colin <cmg124@aol.com> şunları yazdı (11 Ara 2025 16:42):

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Blog Books

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Dear Colin,

I wanted to briefly update you on the project. I have now completed a full thematic classification of your blog and organized all the posts into six coherent volumes. I am also working on gathering the texts one by one into these volumes, and I will keep you informed as the work progresses.

I also plan to visit you in the United States to receive any materials you may wish to share with me — notes, manuscripts, letters, photographs, or personal archives. My intention is to publish all of this as a comprehensive collection of your work in Turkey. I will do whatever is necessary to make this happen, and I give you my word that I will handle everything required for publication with full commitment.

With best regards,
Uğur

COLIN McGINN – DEFINITIVE VOLUME CLASSIFICATION OF THE BLOG WRITINGS

Below is a six-volume structure that accurately reflects the full thematic range of your blog.
Each volume represents a coherent conceptual domain, and together they organize the entire corpus in a clear and intellectually natural way.

VOLUME I — Mind, Consciousness, Epistemology, Modal Reality

(334 posts)

Primary themes:
Mind, consciousness, knowledge, epistemology, logic, identity, modality, meaning, philosophical language, cognitive structure, thought, intentionality, belief, conceptual analysis.

This volume gathers all posts dealing with the nature of mind, the structure of thought, epistemic limits, consciousness, modal and metaphysical questions, and core issues in analytic philosophy.

VOLUME II — Science, Evolution, Biology, Memetics, Naturalism

(59 posts)

Primary themes:
Genes, atoms, evolution, biology, neuroscience (where relevant), memes, scientific models, naturalistic explanation.

This volume contains scientifically oriented reflections, evolutionary analyses, biological metaphors, and posts engaging with contemporary science and naturalistic frameworks.

VOLUME III — Ethics, Society, Politics, Culture

(65 posts)

Primary themes:
Ethics, morality, society, political commentary, Trump, cancel culture, social criticism, cultural analysis, academic norms.

These posts address moral reasoning, social trends, cultural critique, and the intersection of ethics with contemporary events.

VOLUME IV — Aesthetics, Art, Film, Literature

(65 posts)

Primary themes:
Art, beauty, literature, film, aesthetics, style, criticism, interpretation.

All posts concerning artistic evaluation, literary reflection, film commentary, aesthetic theory, and cultural expression are collected in this volume.

VOLUME V — Personal Essays, Memoirs, Academic Life

(839 posts)

Primary themes:
Stories about philosophers (Searle, Strawson, Kripke, Putnam, etc.),
academic memoirs, personal reflections, teaching experiences, intellectual life.

This is the largest volume, containing autobiographical material, professional memories, philosophical encounters, and personal reflections.

VOLUME VI — Sports, Hobbies, Life, Humor

(12 posts)

Primary themes:
Tennis, drumming, sports, hobbies, personal routines, light-hearted pieces.

 

This volume includes posts focusing on daily life, physical activities, musical interests, and humorous observations.

 

Colin <cmg124@aol.com>, 11 Ara 2025 Per, 04:28 tarihinde şunu yazdı:
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Hate

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Hate

We are constantly hearing about how bad it is to hate. This is a complete misconception. The OED defines hate as “feel intense dislike for or a strong aversion towards”. The concept has nothing intrinsically to do with prejudice or violence or persecution. Hate is not somehow unethical or irrational; nor is it psychologically damaging and hence imprudent. You can hate the taste of gooseberries and be guilty of no sin. You can hate modern art or lounge music or ballroom dancing and not be a bad person. There is no virtue in loving these things, if that’s the way you feel. Moreover, it is correct to hate some things (and love others): cruelty, racial prejudice, murder, indifference to suffering, injustice, etc. These are bad things, so you have every right to hate them. By all means hate hatred if it is bad and unjust. What else should you feel? Not love, to be sure, and not indifference (no one ever says “All you need is indifference”). What about the people guilty of hateful things (attitudes, actions)—can you hate them? I don’t see why not, remembering that people are complex and may be good in some ways and bad in others (is anyone ever all bad?). You can hate them in so far as they are hateful—despicable, detestable, vile. You can hate people “under a description”. You can hate X for being F but not for being G. You feel intense dislike of X for being F (you might quite like X in other ways). How can you like or love a person for being a certain way without simultaneously disliking or hating someone for being the opposite (e.g., kind versus cruel)? There are plenty of people I hate for what they have done—justifiably, rationally, fairly (me not them). You can even have general hatreds, as long as the group concerned has really done hateful things. Of course, you can stop hating people if they have made amends or seen the error of their ways; hatred my not be, like diamonds, forever—though it may be and often is. Certainly, you must be careful with your hatreds (you can be more profligate with your loves); you mustn’t hate unfairly or indiscriminately or too much. But hatred as such is perfectly normal and even desirable. If you don’t hate certain politicians, there is something wrong with you. I grant that many people hate without sense or reason, and that there is far too much of it around (and always has been), but I don’t think it should be banned or discouraged tout court. There used to be love-ins; I don’t see why hate-ins should not also be organized. Let’s not knock hate, just keep it in its proper place. A sound moral psychology will include both love and hate, each with appropriate objects. And let’s not condemn love-hate relationships; they too can have their uses and justifications.

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A Bright Spot

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A Bright Spot

Last Saturday the world champion waveski rider Ian Macleod delivered to me the board he had designed and constructed for me (a four and a half hour drive down the coast of Florida). It was quite an occasion. I had to cancel my interview with my Turkish collaborators and friends, Burcu and Ugur, because of it. I discussed with Ian why waveski surfing is not a more popular sport, given its suitability for people who find regular surfing too difficult and enjoy kayaking. We had no ready explanation. Anyway, I thought my readers would like to see this magnificent work of art.

IMG_6570.jpeg
Sent from my iPhone

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Sent from my iPhone

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