Could God know what it is like to be a bat?

| 12 Comments

The following argument is valid:

  1. One only knows what it is like to echolocate if one has had echolocatory experiences.
  2. God has never had echolocatory experiences.
  3. Therefore, God does not know what it is like to echolocate.
Here, by "echolocatory experiences" I mean "apparent echolocatory experiences"--hallucinations also count.

Were it not that God in fact has probably seen red, through the Incarnation (unless Jesus was color-blind), I could have substituted "see red" for "echolocate".

But even though the argument is valid, it is a bad argument. The only reason to think (1) is true in the case of God is to think that (1) is a necessary truth. But there is good reason to think (1) could be false. Here is one possible counterexample to the necessity of (1). Suppose superbats are a species of intelligent aliens who can echolocate (the reason I'm not working with bats, is because I don't know if bats know anything). Fred is a superbat whose echolocative sense has always been completely nonfunctional. George is a normal superbat. Dr. Black, our friendly local neurosurgeon, transplants some of George's memories of echolocation into Fred's brain. Then Fred has apparent memories of what it is like to echolocate. And as long as he knows that they are apparent memories of echolocation, he knows what it is like to echolocate, even though he has never had an apparent echolocatory experience. (If we are psychological personal identity theorists, we need to assume that too many memories haven't been transplanted into Fred.)



So maybe we should modify (1) to say that one only knows what it is like to echolocate if one has either had an echolocatory experience or one has an apparent memory of one (maybe we can even drop the first disjunct). Since God is inerrant, he can only have an apparent memory of having echolocated if he in fact echolocated.


But (1) thus modified may still be false. Suppose that no memories are inplanted in Fred. Suppose that George not only can remember what it is like to echolocate, but he can imagine what it is like to echolocate. Maybe he has never echolocated an icosahedron, but based on his experiences, he imagines doing so, and his imagination is enough for him to know what it is like to echolocate an icosahedron. It seems quite plausible--especially if sensory imagination supervenes on the brain--that George's occurrent state of imagining echolocating an icosahedron could be implanted into Fred. Then, on the basis of that occurrent imaginative state, Fred could know what it is like to echolocate an icosahedron, without having ever echolocated an icosahedron. Moreover, it seems like it might be possible to have the state implanted in Fred without George ever having had the state, by directly generating the state (surely God could do it!)


To get around this counterexample, we would need to modify (1) to say that one only knows what it is like to echolocate if one has either had an echolocatory experience or one has an apparent memory of one or one has an occurrent imagination of echolocation or one has an apparent memory of having imagined echolocation. (Yes, that last disjunct will surely be needed.) The plausibility of (1) is really fading away now, because it is becoming more and more ad hoc. We now have in view four ways one could know what it is like to echolocate: by having done it, by apparently remembering having done it, by imagining it, or by apparently remembering imagining it. Do we have good reason to think there are no more ways? (E.g., maybe a being that could see the future could have a memory-like state that is future-directed--call it an apprehension--and an apparent apprehension of echolocation would also do the job.) Moreover, while it was plausible that God never echolocated, and that God did not have false memories of echolocation, it would require a serious argument that God has never imagined echolocating. And the argument cannot be based on the premise that one can only imagine echolocating if one apparently remembers echolocating, because our last Fred and George story shows that this would be false.



12 Comments

I wonder if you are equivocating on the word "like" in you argument or, perhaps, it is a fallacy of emphasis .

Suppose that I have a really good imagination and, thus, can imagine standing on Wainiha Beach. In that case, I might know what it is LIKE to stand on that beach. However, it does not seem that I would know what it is like TO STAND on that beach. In other words, in the first statement "like" seems to mean something like "resemble" or "have the same appearance/character as"; whereas in the second "like" seems to mean something like "in the same way" or "exactly as".

And it does not seem to me to be true that someone (X) who has imagined standing on Wainiha beach and someone (Y) who has actually stood on it know the exact same thing. X knows something like or similar to or resembling what Y knows, but X does not know exactly what Y knows or in the same way.

Hi Alex,

I discuss versions of this argument in Chapters 3 and 4 of my book _God and Phenomenal Consciousness_. Torin Alter and I also discuss it in the following papers:

http://www.as.ua.edu/philos/talter/conflicts.pdf
http://www.arsdisputandi.org/publish/articles/000098/index.html

Many philosophers defend versions of the argument (e.g., Mike Martin, John Lachs, David Blumenfeld, Selmer Bringsjord, etc.) but I agree with you that premiss (1) is false because it is based on an implausible form of empiricism.

Yujin

And as long as he knows that they are apparent memories of echolocation, he knows what it is like to echolocate, even though he has never had an apparent echolocatory experience.

I recall stepping on a nail as a child. I was jumping over some boards. But having the memory is nothing like having the experience of stepping on the nail. The memory, for instance, doesn't hurt at all. Why should i expect that having the memory of echolocating is anything like having the experience of echolocating?

Mike:

It seems to me that when I close my eyes, I still know what it is like to see green. (And not just because I see green spots flying before my eyes--let's suppose I don't.) I don't need to occurrently see green to know what it is like to see green. It seems a very reasonable hypothesis that what makes me know what it is like to see green when my eyes are closed is my memories of having seen green.

I think that for the purposes of attacking the argument (1)-(3), I can remain neutral on the question whether an apparent memory of an experience of green is like the experience. Whether it is like it or not, the memory is all I need for the knowledge.

Now, of course, I might not know if my memory is accurate. But that's a different question, I think. It is at least possible to know that one's memory is accurate (e.g., because God tells you that you haven't suffered any memory losses or gained any false memories).

Hi Alex,

I'm inclined to think knowing what it is like to F expresses a factive state. It entails that one has F-ed. But suppose that 'knowing what it is like' in English doesn't express this state. Nevertheless, I think there is such a factive state we could have expressed, and it is important. It is a state that a bat could be in but a human couldn't. Do you disagree that there is such a state?

Your case of apparent memory seems to me to be a case in which it seems to one that one remembers F-ing, but one does not. That explains why it is an apparent memory, and not a genuine one. In any case, suppose it could seem to God that God knows what it is like to hate something for its own sake, that seems very different to me than claiming God could actually know what it is like to hate something for its own sake. Similarly, God could have an apparent memory of F-ing, without having a memory of F-ing. For like knowing what it is like to F, remembering that one F-ed is also factive. Thus, just as there are merely apparent memories, there are merely apparent knowings of what it is like to F.

It seems a very reasonable hypothesis that what makes me know what it is like to see green when my eyes are closed is my memories of having seen green.

I'm not denying that. I agree that the explanation for your ability to IMAGINE the color green is your memory of the experience of doing so. And imagining the color does tell you what it's like to experience seeing that color. All that's fine.
My point is that having the memory of X or that X occurred does not in general make it possible for me to imagine X (to imagine X accurately). And so having the memory of X does not in general make it possible to know what it's like to experience X.
Having the memory of stepping on a nail does not make it possible for me to imagine that experience accurately. I'm glad it doesn't, since it hurt pretty badly. I'm wondering if having the memory of echoLing does allow you to imagine accruately echoLing.

Christian:

I disagree about this sort of factiveness. That I know what it is like to A entails that my cognitive state (belief?) about what it is like to A is correct. But it does not imply that I have A'ed.

Here's a case. Let's say you've seen red squares and yellow circles, and all kinds of other geometric objects, but you've never seen a red circle. I think you are in a position to know what it is like to see a red circle, at least if you exercise your imagination moderately.

Mike:

You're right. But I suspect that it would be logically possible to remember the nail in such a way that one would know what it was like to have stepped on it. I also suspect that some people do and some people do not have this ability. For instance, I remember very few of my past bodily sensations. I remember the fact that I had them, but I have very little in the way of remembered qualitative feel with respect to them. But others are different.

Yujin:

Thanks for the link.

I am having trouble following the dialectics in your Ars Disputandi piece. It seems to me that Alter's memory trace case has given a counterexample to the concept empiricist thesis that, at least for certain concepts, one can only have the concept if one has had some relevant experience. Given this counterexample, it seems to me that he doesn't need to show that the case of God is another counterexample to the concept empiricist thesis. The concept empiricist thesis is seen to be false (or at least not a necessary truth) as soon as a counterexample has been given. The onus would, I think, be on you to qualify the thesis in a way that withstands Alter's counterexample. Maybe you can say that the thesis holds for God but not for material beings. Or maybe you can say that the thesis holds in the absence of false memory traces. Both of these seem ad hoc.

But coming into this in media res, I may be missing something about the dialectics.

Alex:

It's interesting to note that your point is very similar to a point that I make in my book.

I agree with you that the dialectics in my AD piece were not very clear. What I tried to show in the piece was that Alter’s objection is not entirely successful if it is formulated as saying that *God* can have phenomenal concepts by somehow creating false memory traces for Himself. This is because we cannot apply the neurosurgery scenario or the Swampman case to God, who doesn’t have a physical body.

However, in my book I go further and claim that that's not ultimately important. The possibility of false memory traces for human beings alone is sufficient to undermine the concept empiricist thesis on which premise (1) of the above argument is based.

Proponents of the argument might insist that concept empiricism holds for God but not for human beings. However, as you correctly say, such a move is ad hoc.

Premise (1) doesn’t say anything about God and the counterexample to it doesn’t say anything about God either. So the argument fails even before mentioning God.

Yujin

Alex:

Initially a persuasive case. You're going to resist the following interpretation of it, but I'd like to know why.

You actually don't know what it is like to see a red circle in your case, but you do know what it is like to see redness and circularity. In general, it is false that if S knows what it is like to see F at t and S knows what it is like to see G at t, and S can adequately imagine something's being F and being G at t, then S knows what it is like to see F & G at t. I suggest the relevant relation is not closed under conjunction. However, it will seem to S that S knows what it is like to see a red circle, and we can explain why it seems so to him. We can appeal the fact that he knows what it is like to see the conjuncts in isolation and he is able to imagine them together.

And I still need to ask, even about this case, is the individual that "knows" what it is like to see a red physical object such that he has actually seen one. If not, then I'd say the case is impossible.

I don't know what it is like to have a loved-one die of cancer, but imagine the following dialogue:

Me: Sorry your Mom died of cancer.
Son: Thanks.
Me: I know what it's like to lose a mother to cancer.
Son: Really, did your mom die of cancer?
Me: No, I've never know anybody who has died of cancer, but I can imagine it.
Son: You don't really know what it's like to lose your mother to cancer then.
Me: But if Alex is right...

I think the Son makes a strong case. Would you agree?

Sorry if this got double-posted, please delete one of them if this happens. Thanks.


Christian:

How about this, somewhat sad example. You've lost a second cousin, and you've lost a sibling. You can interpolate to imagine what it would be like to lose a first cousin. Isn't it plausible that you know what it is like to lose a first cousin?

Or take Hume's example of the missing shade of blue. You've seen all the shades of blue except for one. You are looking at a spectrum of shades of blue, with a hole in it for the missing shade of blue. It seems you can interpolate to know what it is like to see that missing shade of blue.

Alex:

Again, two initially persuasive examples. I don't, not yet anyway, think they recommend concluding that one could know what it like to lose a first cousin or see Hume's blue over the claim that one could imagine (and seem to know what it is like) what it is like to lose a first cousin, or imagine what it is like to see Hume's missing shade.

I see you want to argue that a rich-enough imagination could yield knowledge of what it is like. I just don't think that having a certain rich imaginative experience supports the claim that one knows what it is like to F, rather that one seems to know what it is like to F. The cases, in some sense, underdetermine the conclusion.

If 'knowing what it is like to F' expressed a mere seeming state, I think I would agree with you. Why couldn't one get oneself into such a seeming state through imaginative reconstruction, I don't see why not. And I think there could be such states. If we were in the Matrix, we'd be in such states. And it is unclear just what kind of "what it's like" knowledge would be lacking in a Matrix world. So the state you're discussing seems very important. For all we know, maybe, all of our knowledge of what it is like is like the kind you're suggesting. But, then again, you could also imagine Neo getting unplugged from the Matrix, getting on board his ship, and thinking "So this is what it is really like to breathe air!" I think there is something important to what he would express, and true. I don't see how your view explains what this is. That is, there seems to be an important factive sense to 'knowing what it is like'.