MAKING OUR OWN LUCK
Article originally
published in 2007 Ratio 20, 278-292
It has been
contended that we can never be truly responsible for anything we do: we do what
we do because of the way we are, so we cannot be responsible for what we do
unless we are responsible for the way we are; and we cannot be responsible for
the way we are when we first make decisions in life, so we can never become
responsible for the way we are later in life. This article argues that in our
consciously chosen actions we respond rationally to whole ‘gestalt’ experiences
in ways that cannot be pre-determined by pre-choice circumstances and laws of
nature and/or computational rules; and that this means we are partly
responsible for what we do, even if we are not responsible for the way we are.
It has been widely
contended, notably by Galen Strawson,[1]
that we can never be truly responsible for anything we do, on the basis of the
following argument: we do what we do because of the way we are, so we cannot be
responsible for what we do unless we are responsible for the way we are; and we
cannot be responsible for the way we are when we first make decisions in life
(that must be all down to genes and environment), so we can never become
responsible (through earlier decisions) for the way we are later in life. It’s
all a matter of luck.
This is a persuasive argument, but I believe there is a
good answer to it, one that requires consideration of just how human beings may
be different from machines such as computers or autopilots. Here it is.
Autopilots
Autopilots fly aeroplanes
automatically. Generally, they are used for maintaining steady flight in
unproblematic circumstances, and generally human supervision is maintained in
case circumstances change and human intervention is needed.
However, as computers and artificial intelligence systems
become progressively more powerful, it can be expected that autopilots will
become capable of progressively wider use, extending to flying in the most
difficult circumstances and communicating with air traffic control systems and
other aircraft. The need for human supervision will be reduced, and may
eventually be eliminated.
Autopilots and associated automatic systems could also take
over the task of monitoring the condition of aircraft, maintaining them in good
condition and causing repairs to be effected when necessary. In addition to
carrying out regular maintenance tasks or overseeing other automatic systems
that do so, advanced autopilots could detect circumstances calling for action
to avoid or prevent damage, and could bring about such action; and could also
detect damage calling for repair outside regular maintenance, and could cause
it to be rectified.
For autopilots to be capable of all these things, they
would have to be able to receive and act upon information about an aeroplane
and its environment, including information communicated by other systems. It
may be that these autopilots would learn to perform some of their tasks by
training, rather than being wholly programmed in advance.
An Analogy
Some people regard persons
as being like aeroplanes, and their brains as being like advanced autopilots,
directing their bodies through life.
Our brains
have not been designed, constructed and programmed by human beings; but they
can be regarded as having been constructed and programmed by physical and
chemical processes, in accordance with designs encoded in our DNA and produced
by millions of years of evolutionary trial and error, and also under the
influence of environmental factors obtaining during gestation and childhood. We
too have automatic systems for maintenance and repair, and our brains can
initiate further steps for maintenance, repair and avoidance of damage when we
become aware of injuries and threats of injuries. (In our case, however, such
steps are often the result of our being alerted and/or motivated by feelings of
hunger or pain or desire to avoid pain; and I will be contending that this
could not be the case with autopilots)
I raise three
possible difficulties with this analogy, the first two of which I believe are
of little weight apart from the third.
First, our
brains and bodies are living things, while autopilots and aeroplanes are not.
However, science treats living things as physical systems, operating in
accordance with the same physical laws as non-living systems. Parts of our
bodies can be replaced successfully by non-living matter, and the same may be
true of our brains. There seems no reason in principle why the functioning of
our brains cannot be likened to the functioning of non-living systems, such as
computers or autopilots.
Second, the tasks
undertaken by our brains are vastly more varied and challenging than those that
would be undertaken by even the most advanced autopilots. But this may be
considered merely a matter of degree.
Third, unlike
autopilots, our brains support some processes that have a subjective
experiential aspect as well as an objective physical aspect. That is, some
processes of our brains involve our having conscious experiences,
including visual and auditory experiences, conscious thoughts, and feelings
such as pain and hunger; whereas (HAL in the movie 2001 notwithstanding)
it seems unlikely in the extreme that autopilots, however advanced, would have
conscious experiences. Scientists do not have the faintest idea how to go about
constructing or programming a machine to have conscious experiences, much less
to use them; and there is no reason to think that advanced autopilots
would (for example) have or need to have feelings of pain to alert them
to damage or threats of damage, or to motivate them to avoid damage or have it
rectified. I believe this is by far the most important of the obvious
differences between our brains and autopilots, and one that may give the other
two differences significance they would not otherwise have.
The Consensus
Many scientists and philosophers
do not see this third difference as being very important. There is a broad
consensus among scientists and scientifically-oriented philosophers that
conscious experiences have no causal input into our decisions and actions over
and above the effect of physical processes of our brains that produce the
conscious experiences and cause all our physical movements. And there are
seemingly powerful reasons for this view.
First, it is widely accepted that everything that happens,
in the physical or material world at least, happens in accordance with physical
laws of nature engaging with physical features of the world, being either
wholly determined by these laws and features, or else happening randomly within
probability parameters determined by them. It is said that the physical word is
closed to causal influences that are not themselves physical.
Second, it is reasonable to believe there are
psycho-physical laws that correlate the physical and experiential aspects of
brain processes, so that an experience of the type Xe occurs
whenever a brain process of the type Xp occurs. Therefore, it would
seem, whatever role might be played by the experience in the causal unfolding
of events could be played, at least indirectly, by the corresponding physical
brain process; so that although an autopilot could not feel pain or know what
pain feels like, physical processes in an autopilot could play the same role as
pain plays in the functioning of our brains.
Third, a great deal about the operation of our brains seems
understandable in terms of physical processes of our brains, with ordinary
physical and chemical activity in billions of neurons carrying out what can be
regarded as computational programs for processing information.
Fourth, there are experimental results, particularly from
work by Benjamin Libet,[2]
suggesting that, at least in some circumstances, consciousness comes too late
to influence action.
Fifth, it can
be argued that these views do not involve the implausible position that
experiences are ‘epiphenomenal,’ that is, have no causal role whatsoever. The
relevant processes have (inseverably) both a physical and an experiential
aspect; so that the experiences are no less efficacious than the corresponding
brain processes. Further, the psycho-physical laws that correlate experiences
with physical processes may do so only indirectly. While any computational
programs carried out by brain activity must conform to computational rules
of some kind or other, these programs might conceivably be such that they could
run on physical systems that operate differently from brains (like a PC program
running on an Apple computer); and experiences might comprise or include
information that engages with the rules of these programs and not directly
with the physical brain processes that support them. To that extent, the causal
role of experiences could be partly independent of that of physical
processes.
And sixth, any other view can be branded unscientific
superstition.
An Alternative
I want to suggest an
alternative view.
Like many
consensus views, this treats the processes of our brains as including some
processes that have both a physical and an experiential aspect. But unlike
consensus views, it holds that the role of these processes in the unfolding of
events is not wholly determined by physical laws engaging with their physical
aspect. It proposes that the physical aspect of these processes does, in
conformity with physical laws, restrict what can happen to a limited spectrum
of possibilities; but also that, in response to the experiential aspect of
these processes, the brain (or more accurately the person) can control what
does happen within this spectrum of possibilities.
This view does not require a self or soul distinct from the
brain, which has some input into what happens. Rather, it proposes that the
physical-and-experiential system of the brain (or brain-and-mind) has the
capacity to use information carried in experiences in a way that corresponding
information carried in physical processes cannot be used, and that is not and
cannot be wholly determined by pre-existing laws.
I’ve already
suggested there are psycho-physical laws correlating physical and experiential
aspects of brain processes, so that there is a sense in which any information
carried by the experiential aspect must also be carried by the physical aspect.
I’ve also suggested that the physical aspect of brain processes has a causal
influence through engagement with physical laws, and that information carried
by the brain processes may have a causal influence through engagement with the
rules of computational programs of the brain. I now suggest that the
information as carried by the experiential aspect is characteristically combined
into unified experiences or gestalts, and that although these gestalts
cannot, as gestalts, engage with laws or rules of any kind, they can have a
causal influence because the system can respond to them. I will elaborate on
this shortly.
Thus my
proposal is that the physical-and-experiential system constituted by the brain
can respond to these gestalts, and that this response can supplement the effect
of physical laws engaging with the physical aspect of brain processes, so that
the person can exercise control over what happens within the available spectrum
of possibilities.
It seems
reasonable to suppose that whenever we are acting without paying particular
attention, and without concentration, deliberation or effort, the available
spectrum of possibilities is narrow: we are pretty much ‘on autopilot,’ and
conscious input does not go beyond marginal shaping or fine-tuning of actions,
coupled with readiness to do more if something arises that calls for attention,
concentration, deliberation and/or effort. Our conscious motivation, so far as
it is operating, runs along the same lines as our unconscious motivation.
However, the
cursory attention associated with this kind of activity can rapidly (and
automatically) become heightened when something significant happens, and this
can in turn lead to concentration, deliberation and/or effort. In circumstances
of heightened attention, concentration, deliberation and/or effort, the
spectrum of possibilities may become wider, and our response to experienced
gestalts can have a substantial impact in directing action within that wider
spectrum.
On this view,
returning to the autopilot analogy, there is no distinct system that takes over
from an ‘autopilot,’ as happens when a human pilot takes over from an autopilot
flying an aeroplane: rather, the system has leeways within which the system
itself can ‘steer’ on the basis of information combined into gestalts to which
the system can respond in ways not determined by pre-existing rules. Although
the conscious and unconscious motivations still run along the same general
lines, on the basis of what is in a sense the same information, the system’s
ability to respond to the information as combined into gestalts enables it to
direct action within the available spectrum of possibilities.
Gestalts
Plainly, my proposal
concerning gestalts is important to my argument, and I will elaborate a little.[3] In particular, I need to explain why I say
that gestalts cannot, as gestalts, engage with laws or rules.
I suggest it is characteristic of laws and rules that they
apply generally over a range of circumstances, and must engage with types or
classes of things or features that different circumstances have in common,
including variable quantities that can engage with mathematical rules;
so that while laws and rules can apply to individual unique circumstances, they
engage with features of these circumstances only in so far as each of
these features is of a type or class, and/or is a variable quantity. Laws and
rules link categories (say, X, Y, Z, etc.), where these categories are types or
classes of things or features, and/or mathematical variables. In the case of
computational rules, X may be a potentially recurring situation in a
computational program, and Y may be the consequential operation to be
undertaken in that situation.
I accept that, in theory at least, some simple gestalts,
such as a visual experience of a basic shape, may be of a type or class such
that laws or rules could engage with them; but this could not be true of the
feature-rich gestalts we normally experience, such as gestalts comprehending
many features of an observed scene, or of a unique melody. And it is these
particular gestalts of our ordinary experience on which I am focussing in this
discussion. Laws or rules could perhaps engage with these gestalts in so far as
they exemplify simple gestalts of a type or class, but they could not
otherwise engage with whole feature-rich gestalts of our ordinary experience.
Although in this article I am not considering laws of a legal
system, such laws also, while applying to unique circumstances,
generally engage only with types or classes of persons or places or
occurrences, and prescribe types or classes of legal consequences.
Occasionally, a statute law specifies what is to happen in a particular named
place or at a named event or even to a named person; but this is exceptional,
and for the most part laws of a legal system do not identify, and thereby
engage with and specify a response to, any particular place or event or person.
Laws of a legal system may, through engaging with each of a
number of features that a particular person has, produce a legal result that is
unique to that person; and laws of nature and/or computational rules may,
through engaging with each of a number of features that are combined into a
particular gestalt, produce a result that is unique to that gestalt. Indeed,
this must happen whenever a computer program identifies a unique melody.
However, I contend that laws and rules cannot engage with any rich combination
of features as a whole, and in that sense cannot engage with whole
particular gestalts; and by the same token, particular gestalts cannot as
wholes engage with laws or rules.
Consider for
example George Gershwin’s melody The Man I Love. (I could equally have
chosen Summertime or Embraceable You or any of a number of others
– each of these melodies, despite its apparent simplicity, is a unique and
utterly distinctive whole.) This melody
can be given a description in terms of general and quantitative features
it has in common with other melodies, including location and patterns of notes,
pitch changes, rhythms, tempos, and so on; and these features, being general
and quantitative, can engage with general rules, so that the melody can readily
be identified by application of computational rules. No doubt such an
appealing melody has constituent features that can push buttons in our
emotional make-up that have been established by evolution and environment. But the
way this melody sounds, and even the way some 2- and 4-bar chunks of it
sound, is unique to this melody; and an experience of such a unique
melody or chunk of melody, as a whole, is an example of what I mean by a
gestalt that cannot engage with laws or rules.
This unique
melody did not exist until it was composed, and neither Gershwin nor anyone
else could have been primed in advance by evolution and/or environment for a
response to its exact form. When Gershwin was composing the melody,
possibilities for how it should proceed must have been thrown up by unconscious
processes, presumably processes giving effect to computational programs of his
exceptional brain, which were themselves a product of his genes and environment
(and perhaps earlier choices). But Gershwin must have consciously appraised
these possibilities as he composed, in order to decide whether to adopt them or
modify them or look for other possibilities; and ultimately he must have
consciously appraised the melody itself, in order to decide whether to assent
to it as his composition or to refine it further; and what I suggest is that,
in appraising the possibilities and the melody, he must have been influenced by
gestalts of the possibilities and of the melody and/or chunks of it, which
because of their uniqueness could not engage as wholes with pre-existing rules
of any kind. And if so, I suggest, neither the final form of the melody, nor
Gershwin’s assent to it, could have been wholly pre-determined by pre-existing
circumstances and pre-existing laws or rules.
I’ve heard there is a computer program that can compose
music in the style of Mozart, and there may be one that can compose melodies in
the style of George Gershwin. Such a program could conceivably come up with
melodies as appealing as The Man I Love. But what it could never do is
to appraise and refine its creations by attending to gestalts of them; because
while the rules of a computational program can engage with aesthetic standards
to which its creations should comply, and can engage with all manner of
features which its creations have in common with other things, they cannot
engage with whole particular unprecedented gestalts. The point is particularly
strong in the case of ground-breaking creations that defy existing aesthetic
standards, such as Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde and Picasso’s Les
Demoiselles d’Avignon. When creating those works, I suggest, the authors
could not have just been giving effect to computational programs and/or
applying existing aesthetic standards, but rather must have been influenced in
the course they took in creating and refining these works by their appraisal of
gestalts of the works and of substantial parts of them.
A computer could receive, store and process information concerning each and every physical feature of Picasso’s painting, and information concerning all aesthetic standards that have so far been formulated. It could readily identify the painting, and it could possibly perform as well as or better than human experts in determining its conformity to those standards, and also (for example) in determining whether a painting presented to it was the original or a copy. But it could never experience aggregations of features as whole gestalts unique to that painting, or respond to gestalts of that kind in appraising the painting.
Why the Alternative?
I find my alternative
proposal more believable than consensus views, for a number of reasons.
First, it accords with how things seem, to me at least. For
example, if I am driving a car thinking about other things, and something
untoward happens, my conscious attention is quickly engaged, so that my
automatic driving reactions are supplemented by my conscious grasp of the whole
situation and there can be conscious fine-tuning of my response. (None of the
Libet experiments indicate that attentive consciousness of changes of
ongoing experience comes too late to influence action: indeed, in extreme
cases, it seems that more room is given to conscious control in that things
appear to happen in slow motion.) Also,
when I am writing something, ideas are thrown up by unconscious processes; but
I am continually appraising the sense and sound of substantial chunks of what I
am writing so as decide whether to keep them or to alter them or to try to come
up with other ideas. In both situations, my actions seem to flow from
complementary contributions from unconscious processes and conscious
experiences. And I cannot believe that my response to a melody like The Man
I Love or a painting like Les Demoiselles d’Avignon is wholly
determined by the engagement of constituent non-unique features with
computational rules, and uninfluenced by my experience and grasp of the whole
unique particular work.
Second, the view does not conflict with anything
established by science. It may be contended that this view is in fact
inconsistent with science, because it supposes indeterminism at a scale beyond
that permitted by quantum mechanics, and because in any event the only
indeterminism permitted by quantum mechanics is randomness. I believe the
former assertion is far from proven;[4]
and as regards the latter, quantum mechanics can ascribe probabilities only on
the basis of physical features: it cannot in ascribing probabilities take
account of non-physical features (such as conscious experiences), or exclude
the possibility that non-physical features could impact on these probabilities.
And I believe there is no possibility that decisions taken in the course of
unique highly complex brain processes could ever be shown to violate the
statistical laws of quantum mechanics.
Third, it is
supportive of this view that consciously-held reasons for action are
characteristically inconclusive, and that there is a corresponding gap between
reasons on the one hand and decisions and actions on the other.[5] Hume said we always act in accordance with
the preponderance of our desires, but that falsely assumes that desires, like
forces in Newtonian physics, are commensurable, so that there is always a
single ‘resultant’ desire that can direct our actions; whereas in truth there
is no common scale on which (say) a feeling of hunger can weigh against a
feeling of obligation to carry out a promised task. If ‘desires’ such as these
conflict, the outcome is not determined by a preponderance of one over the
other (because there can be no preponderance of incommensurables), but (I
contend) by a choice between them that takes account of their different
characters by means of a global assessment to which laws cannot apply.
Fourth,
consensus views do not account for plausible reasoning.
Consensus
views require that the rationality of any process of human reasoning depend
completely on the reliability of computational processes of the brain. To the
extent that human reasoning is algorithmic, that is, to the extent that it
proceeds in accordance with rules of logic and/or mathematics and/or
probability, or any other rules that could be incorporated into a computer
program, there is no problem with this. But most human reasoning is not overtly
of this kind, but rather is informal plausible reasoning where the premises or
data do not entail the conclusion by virtue of applicable rules, but rather
support it as a matter of reasonable judgment. Arguments of Hume, Popper
and others, particularly as developed by Hilary Putnam,[6]
strongly suggest that reasoning of this kind cannot be fully explained in terms
of rules for good reasoning, whether they be rules of logic or mathematics or
probability or whatever. I suggest that plausible reasoning depends in part on
experiences, ideas and feelings grasped as gestalt wholes, which enable
judgments to be made that have regard to incommensurable reasons (such as pain
and feelings as to what is right) and to analogies that do not depend on
identity or quantitative assessment of common features, and which also promote understanding
of what is being considered.
Plausible
reasoning is fallible, but it is indispensable: even the scientific method
depends on plausible reasoning as much as on logic, probability theory and
refutation, for example in formulation of hypotheses, design of experiments and
appraisal of unrefuted hypotheses. We can and should attempt to minimise error
by attending to rules of good reasoning, by trying to identify and eliminate
fallacies and biases, and by subjecting our reasoning to scrutiny and debate;
but we cannot eliminate either the possibility of error or our ultimate
dependence on plausible reasoning.
On consensus views,
plausible reasoning must I contend be explained in terms of computational
processes that do not have any validity on the basis of logical rules or other
rules for good reasoning, but which work because they have been selected in
evolution for their effectiveness in promoting survival and reproduction.
But this introduces a
vicious circle into justification of plausible reasoning. If we cannot rely on
our plausible reasoning as the conscious non-algorithmic process it seems to
be, and on associated feelings of assurance, then any confidence we could have
in it would have to depend on the belief that plausible reasoning is supported
by computational processes whose reliability is assured by the evolutionary
tests they have passed; yet this belief would itself have to depend on
extensive plausible reasoning, giving rise to a vicious circle.[7] Disagreements in matters of plausible reasoning
could not be addressed rationally: so long as identifiable fallacies were
avoided, there would be no basis on which one process of plausible reasoning
could be preferable to another. Further, our rationality is well adapted to
dealing with problems remote from the evolutionary tests that faced our
evolutionary ancestors, which makes it unlikely that our rationality is no more
than a matter of useful algorithmic processes selected through those tests.
Fifth, if choices were
in fact determined by evolution-selected computational procedures, which as
computational procedures need no help from conscious judgment, there seems no
plausible explanation of why evolution selected in favour of brains that, at
considerable expense in terms of complexity and energy-use, support conscious
processes. In particular, there could in that event be no plausible explanation
why we have feelings like pain to motivate us, when it would be absurd
(even if possible) to use pain or any other feelings to motivate a computer or
an autopilot to proceed in accordance with a program for avoidance or repair of
damage; or of why are we so constituted that our conscious awareness is
automatically called into play when we are faced with a novel situation calling
for decisive action. On the other hand, my proposal does provide such an
explanation, namely the value of being able to take account of gestalts in
fine-tuning actions and engaging in plausible reasoning. This argument is
further supported by the consideration that, in conscious decision-making,
issues and reasons appear to be presented for appraisal in ways that are
simple, somewhat like an executive summary prepared for a chief executive
officer of a business; raising the question of why this happens, if all real
decisions are made by highly complex unconscious information-processing.
Sixth, my proposed view fits
better than consensus views with objectivity of values and rationality of
debate about values. I firmly believe that there are at least some things that
are objectively and undoubtedly wrong, for example, torturing a child
for amusement. However, such a belief can only be supported by plausible
reasoning based partly on emotional feelings; and on consensus views, such
reasoning can have no validity beyond its proven efficacy for survival and
reproduction. Such an evolutionary approach can explain why many people
have that moral belief, but cannot justify it as being true or even
rational, at least unless ‘rational’ is redefined to mean ‘in accordance with
brain processes selected by evolution’.[8]
Responsibility
On the alternative view I am proposing, we can in
circumstances of attention, concentration, deliberation and/or effort make
significant choices as to what to do, choices that are not wholly
pre-determined by pre-choice circumstances (including pre-choice states and
processes of our brains) and laws of nature and/or computational rules, but are
in part determined by our responses, as whole physical and experiential beings,
to gestalt experiences that cannot engage with any laws or rules.
This is not to propose
some incoherent notion of self-creation or self-causation, although it can be
considered as proposing a form of self-organisation. The idea that
physical-and-experiential systems can make reasonable choices that do not
depend wholly on application of or engagement with any kind of rules or laws
may seem mysterious, and it does requires further investigation and
explanation. But it is no more mysterious than consciousness itself; and my
proposal does provide an intelligible role for consciousness, a matter on which
consensus views fail totally.
On this
approach, our choices are subject to considerable pre-choice constraints. We
have no alternatives outside the spectrum of possibilities left open by
physical circumstances and physical laws. We have no experiences that can give
us consciously-held reasons for choosing within this spectrum apart from
experiences that arise from pre-choice circumstances and are correlated with
physical brain processes. The way these reasons feel and appeal to us, and the
tendencies to act that these and other brain processes produce, also arise from
pre-choice circumstances and are correlated with physical brain processes. But
subject to these constraints, we have and cannot help having the capacity to
make choices that are not pre-determined by pre-choice circumstances,
because these choices are made in part in response to gestalts that cannot
engage with laws.
In this way,
I contend, we can exercise a degree of free will, particularly in fine-tuning
our actions, in making aesthetic and moral judgments, in deciding what to
believe when there is conflicting evidence, and in deciding what to do when
there are conflicting reasons. In doing so, we are limited and influenced by
our formed characters, to the extent that they affect the available
alternatives, the reasons and their feel and appeal, and the associated
tendencies to act, but I suggest not otherwise. Thus, the sense in which
it is true that we do what we do because of the way we are is that (1)
the way we are plus our circumstances plus laws of nature provide alternatives,
inconclusive reasons, and tendencies, and also the capacity to choose between
the alternatives on the basis of the reasons; and (2) what we do is what we
choose in exercise of that capacity, the choice not being influenced by any
differentiating features of the way we are otherwise than through the
alternatives, reasons, and tendencies. And that leaves us with a degree of
ultimate responsibility for what we do even if we are not responsible for the
way we are.
And this
means in turn that we can become partly responsible for the way we are, as our
choices, for which we are partly responsible, come to supplement the effects of
genes and environment on the way we are. Life is a handicap event, but most of
us have the capacity to modify our handicaps and, within limits, to make our
own luck and to shape our own lives.
..………………………………………
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1.
For example, ‘Luck swallows everything’, Times Literary Supplement, 26
June 1998, 8-10, and ‘The bounds of freedom’ in R. Kane (ed.) Oxford
Handbook of Free Will (New York: Oxford University Press, 2002).
[2]. For example, B.Libet,
C.Gleason, W.Wright and D. Pearl, ‘Time of conscious intention to act in
relation to onset of cerebral activities (readiness potential): the unconscious
initiation of a freely voluntary act’, Brain 106 (1983), 623-42.
[3]. I give further elaboration
of this proposal in articles in Philosophy 76 (2001), 341-70 and Journal
of Consciousness Studies 9 (2002), 65-88.
[4]. See for example H. Stapp,
‘Pragmatic approach to consciousness’ in K. H. Pribram, Brain and Values (Hillsdale
NJ: Erlbaum, 1998).
[5]. Cf. John R. Searle, Rationality
in Action (Cambridge MA: MIT Press, 2001).
[6]. H. Putnam, Reason, Truth and History (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1981), 174-200.
[7]. Cf. T. Nagel, The Last
Word (New York: Oxford University Press, 1997), Ch. 7; A. Plantinga, Warrant
and Proper Function (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993), Ch. 12.
[8]. Cf. A. Gibbard, Wise
Choices, Apt Feelings (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1990).