Copyright (c) 2009 Bruce W. Hauptli
The essay in the text is a shorter version of Roderick Chisholm's The Problem of the Criterion [1973].1 Following ancient skeptics, he characterizes the skeptical challenge as a problem regarding our "criterion of knowledge." As I noted earlier, the skeptical challenge raised by ancient skeptics held that it appeared that any attempt to argue for our beliefs, theories, or commitments seemed to have to embrace one of three options:
-allow for an infinite regress of justificatory rationales;-allow for a circular conception of justification; or
-accept some beliefs, theories, or commitments as basic, or foundational--as clear-cut, legitimate, and non-arbitrary stopping points in the quest for justified beliefs, theories, or commitments.
These alternatives are usually posed as "Agrippa's Trilemma" (after Agrippa, a First Century C.E. Pyrrhonist). According to Chisholm, it is helpful to see the ancient challenge as arising as we ask two questions:
(1) What is our method or procedure for distinguishing whether or not things are as they seem to be (that is, what method do we employ as we distinguish appearances from reality, truth from fiction, or knowledge from [mere] belief), and(2) How do we know that our method or procedure actually succeeds in distinguishing between mere appearances and reality? (that is, what particular instances of knowledge do we appeal to in validating our procedure)?
As Chisholm notes,
9 to know whether things really are as they seem to be, we must have a procedure for distinguishing appearances that are true from appearances that are false. But to know whether our procedure is a good procedure, we have to know whether it really succeeds in distinguishing appearances that are true from appearances that are false. And we cannot know whether it does really succeed unless we already know which appearances are true and which ones are false. And so we are caught in a circle.
Of course, this is not simply a circle, it is a vicious one--the skeptic maintains we need to answer (2) to answer (1), but we need to answer (1) to answer (2), and this interdependency leaves us without knowledge! On pp. 10-11 Chisholm offers a discussion of Rene Descartes' [1596-1650] famous discussion of our need to separate the good from the bad apples in a barrel of apples which helps drive the problem home.
Chisholm notes that Cardinal Mercier [1851-1926] held that any adequate criterion must be internal, objective, and immediate, and he agrees with these desiderata. He sketches a resolution to the problem of the criterion championing an orientation he terms "particularism," which he distinguishes from skepticism and "methodism." These dialectical alternatives are distinguished via these two questions:
11(A) "What do we know? What is the extent of our knowledge?" [and](B) "How do we decide whether we know? What are the criteria of knowledge?"
According to Chisholm, [12] "methodists" believe that they have an answer to (B), and would work out an answer to (A) in terms of it; "particularists" believe that they have an answer to (A), and would work out an answer to (B) in terms of it; and skeptics believe one can not answer either (A) or (B) without presupposing an answer to the other.
Chisholm discusses "methodists" like John Locke [1632-1704] and notes, tellingly, that his (and other empiricists') adherence to their general methodology seems oddly at odds with what that very methodology should allow:
12 it seems especially odd that the empiricist--who wants to proceed cautiously, step by step, from experience--begins with such a generalization [all genuine cases of knowledge are derived from experience]. He leaves us completely in the dark so far as concerns what reasons he may have for adopting this particular criterion [of knowledge] rather than some other.
While many epistemologists have been "methodists," Chisholm follows in the tradition of such "particularists" as Thomas Reid [1710-1796] and G.E. Moore [1873-1958].2 He begins with the presumption that we do in fact know many things, and "...that to find out whether you know such a thing as that this is a hand [here he would, of course, point to his up-lifted hand], you don't have to apply any test or criterion."3
According to Chisholm, such knowledge claims are "...innocent until there is some positive reason, on some particular occasion, for thinking that they are guilty on that particular occasion" [p. 14]. He contends that we can develop a theory of evidence on the basis of such claims. I will not go into a detailed discussion of Chisholm's complex theory, though it is sometimes the core of a course such as this (we will be looking at Alston's theory as our central dialectical foil in this course)--the Appendix to this lecture supplement does provide a bit more detail, but my central concern at this point in the course is with skepticism.
Skeptics (and "methodists") would, of course, question the claims which Chisholm (along with Reid and Moore) appeals to here--they would demand that "particularists" make manifest the general criterion which would differentiate these claims from "indirectly evident" ones and which would justify them. Chisholm replies that
16 so far as our problem of the criterion is concerned, the essential thing to note is this. In formulating such principles we will simply proceed as Aristotle did when he formulated his rules for the syllogism. As "particularists" in our approach to the problem of the criterion, we will fit our rules to the cases--to the apples we know to be good and to the apples we know to be bad. Knowing what we do about ourselves and the world, we have at our disposal certain instances that our rules or principles should countenance, and certain other instances that our rules or principles should rule out or forbid.
Chisholm does not prove his basic claims to knowledge. In fact, his "particularism" precludes the need for such proof. When confronted with doubts with regard to these claims, he appeals to "what we all know" rather than attempting to validate his claims by appeal to a general criterion of knowledge. For him, any general criterion must be grounded in these particular knowledge claims.
In effect, then, Chisholm presumes the perspective of "particularism" in his debate with the "methodists" and skeptics (which makes his critique of empiricism, noted earlier, seem less compelling). He is well aware of the fact that skeptics and "methodists" will claim he begins at the wrong point however. He also recognizes that any attempt to answer their "challenge" immediately confronts the skeptics' challenge. Thus he says,
17 what few philosophers have had the courage to recognize is this: we can deal with the problem only by begging the question. It seems to me that, if we do recognize this fact, as we should, then it is unnecessary for us to try to pretend that it isn't so.
One may object: "Doesn't this mean, then that the skeptic is right after all?" I would answer: "Not at all. His view is only one of three possibilities and in itself has no more to recommend it that the others do. And in favor of our approach there is the fact that we do know many things, after all."
Here our selection from Chisholm ends! Leaving us with several questions:
Does his orientation constitute an acceptable response to the skeptical challenge, or does it devolve into a dogmatism?
What is behind the skeptical challenge, do all our beliefs have to be justified?
Who has the burden of proof in this dialectical context?
In confronting these questions, it is best to try and see what sorts of arguments skeptics can offer, and this means we will now turn to Keith Lehrer's "Why Not Skepticism?"
Appendix: A Somewhat Less Cursory Account of Chisholm's Theory:4
As his discussion on pp. 14-15 suggests (it is one of the most condensed versions of Chisholm's many statements of his theory), his theory distinguishes propositions which are beyond reasonable doubt (like "this is a hand"--when uttered in the sort of context Moore appeals to), propositions which are evident for an individual, propositions which are acceptable to an individual, and propositions which are certain for an individual.
For Chisholm there are two different sorts of propositions which are certain:
self-presenting propositions like "I wish I were on the moon" which are about states [of an individual] which "...present themselves and are, so to speak, marks of their own evidence" [p. 15], andfirst truths of reason which are "manifest through themselves" [pp. 15-16]; and
Chisholm contends that justificatory regress comes to a halt when we reach that which is directly evident. According to him, terms like `seems' and `appears' may be used to provide phenomenological descriptions, and if "...I can justify a claim to knowledge by saying of something that it appears F (by saying of the wine that it looks red, or tastes sour, to me), where the verb is intended in the descriptive, phenomenological sense...my statement expresses what is directly evident."5 In such cases the statement is not only immune from lack of warrant it is also immune from error:
in the case of...the "directly evident," conditions of truth and criteria of evidence may be said to coincide....But in the case of other beliefs, conditions of truth and criteria of evidence do not seem to coincide....Hence, if we are not to be sceptics, and if we are not to restrict the evident to what is directly evident, we must face the possibility that a belief may be a belief in what is evident, or a belief for which we have adequate evidence, and, at the same time, be a belief in what is false.6
Skeptics and "methodists" would, of course, question these claims--they would demand that "particularists" make manifest the general criterion which would differentiate these claims from "indirectly evident" ones and which would justify them. Chisholm replies that
...in order to find out whether you know such a thing as that this is a hand, you don't have to apply any test or criterion.
There are many things which, quite obviously, we do know to be true. If I report to you the things I now see and hear and feel--or, if you prefer, the things I now think I see and hear and feel--the chances are that my report will be correct; I will be telling you something I know. And so, too, if you report the things that you think you now see and hear and feel. To be sure, there are hallucinations and illusions. People often think they see or hear or feel things which in fact they do not see or hear or feel. But from this fact--that our senses do sometimes deceive us--it hardly follows that your senses and mine are deceiving you and me right now.7
Chisholm does not believe passages such as this prove his claims to knowledge. His "particularism" precludes the need for such proof however. When confronted with doubts with regard to these claims, he appeals to "what we all know" rather than attempting to validate his claims by appeal to a general criterion of knowledge--indeed, the general criterion must be grounded in these particular knowledge claims. Thus Chisholm's final defense against the skeptics' challenge is to be found in his appeal to "our" knowledge claims.
Clearly, individuals who claim that some of their beliefs are self-warranted will never be willing to concede that these beliefs are unwarranted. If they, like Chisholm, believe that these beliefs are immune from lack of warrant and from error, they will offer no further defense of these knowledge claims. This will not be because they believe such proof is proper but cannot be supplied however. On their view, such proof is neither appropriate nor necessary. Of course, their view is not the only possible one here--skeptics and "methodists" offer differing responses to the two basic questions posed above.
Chisholm does not believe that we are presented with an arbitrary choice amongst these orientations however: according to him his view has the decided virtue of according with what we all do, in fact, know--it accords with common sense.8 Since we do have this knowledge, he claims, skepticism never "rings true;" and "methodism" always finds its way back to these particular claims which must be used to ground any general criterion. In short, the demand that they validate their claims seems incongruous to the "particularists."
G.E. Moore provides a list of nine such claims as he begins his "A Defense of Common Sense,"8a and he employs such claims as premises in his "Proof of An External World." He recognizes that some philosophers have demanded that one prove such statements as "Here is one hand" and "Here is another" (uttered as he raises his hands before an audience):
of course, what they really want is not merely a proof of these...but something like a general statement as to how any propositions of this sort may be proved. This, of course, I haven't given; and I do not believe it can be given....Of course, in some cases what may be called a proof...can be got. If one of you suspected that one of my hands was artificial he might be said to get a proof of my proposition...by coming up and examining the suspected hand close up, perhaps touching and pressing it, and so establishing that it really was a human hand.9
Moore is well aware of the fact that a multitude of "doubts" could arise here, however, and he claims that no "proof" could dispel them all. A skeptic might raise a version of the "dreaming argument" offered by Descartes for example.10 Such a criticism might seem to undercut Moore's claim that he is standing before an audience with his raised hands. In his "Certainty," however, Moore notes that
I agree...that if I don't know that I'm not dreaming, it follows that I don't know that I am standing up, even if I both actually am and think I am. But this...is a consideration which cuts both ways. For, if it is true, it follows that it is also true that if I do know that I am standing up, then I do know that I am not dreaming. I can therefore just as well argue: since I do know that I'm standing up, it follows that I do know that I'm not dreaming; as my opponent can argue: since you don't know that you're not dreaming, it follows that you don't know that you're standing up.11
Moore believes some philosophers will not only think he has attempted to prove such statements as "Here is a hand" or "I am standing up" on the way to proving there is an external world, but that unless he can provide such proofs he will have failed entirely.12 Such philosophers will, perhaps, go so far as to be fideistic at this point and maintain that the existence of external things must be taken on faith alone.13 Moore responds that
such a view, though it has been very common among philosophers, can, I think, be shown to be wrong--though shown only by the use of premises which are not known to be true, unless we do know of the existence of external things. I can know things which I cannot prove; and among things which I certainly did know, even if (as I think) I could not prove them, were the premises of my two proofs. I should say, therefore, that those, if any, who are dissatisfied with these proofs merely on the ground that I did not know their premises, have no good reason for their dissatisfaction.14
According to Moore and Chisholm, then, the claims appealed to are not in need of justification--they end the justificatory regress. The call for justification here is met by the assertion that while one cannot justify these beliefs, they are nonetheless known. These beliefs stand as an epistemic bedrock, and this status renders impossible an internal critique which is centered upon the demand for justification. Any such attempt to question the veracity of these beliefs must begin by accepting the claim that these beliefs are immune to lack of warrant and immune to error. Once these immunities are granted, however, the enterprise of criticizing the beliefs becomes hopeless--after all, they are known to be true.
It might seem that the claim that these beliefs
cannot lack warrant and cannot be in error is dogmatic. Moore recognizes
this fear but maintains that
...in the case of assertions such as I made, made under the circumstances under which I made them, the charge would be absurd. On the contrary, I should have been guilty of absurdity if, under the circumstances, I had not spoken positively about these things."15
While doubt might be appropriate and error may be possible for others (under different circumstances), in these circumstances these contingent propositions are known to be true by all of us.
Notes:
1 Roderick Chisholm, “The Problem of the Criterion,” in The Theory of Knowledge: Classical and Contemporary Readings (third edition), ed. Louis Pojman (Belmont: Wadsworth, 20030, pp. 9-17. The essay originally appeared in Chisholm’s The Foundations of Knowing (Minneapolis: Univ. of Minnesota, 1982), and actually dates back to his The Problem of the Criterion (Milwaukee: Marquette Univ. Press, 1973)--cf., p 12. Cf., also his Theory of Knowledge, (second edition) (Englewood Cliffs: Prentice Hall, 1977), p.119 ff. Back
2 Our text includes Moore's "A Defense of Common Sense," (on pp. 49-51)--in it we have a more detailed discussion of the "paticularist's" orientation (though Moore doesn't use this term). Back
3 The example derives from G.E. Moore's famous "Proof of An External World" (which is excerpted in our text, along with excerpts from Moore's "A Defense of Common Sense," on pp. 51-55). The immediately relevant passage in our text is on p. 53. The essays originally appeared (respectively) in Proceedings of the British Academy v. 25 (1939) and Contemporary British Philosophy, ed. H.J. Muirhead (London: Allen & Unwin, 1925). Back
4 Parts of this discussion are taken, almost directly, from my The Reasonableness of Reason: Explaining Rationality Naturalistically (Chicago: Open Court, 1995), pp. 54 ff. Back
5 Cf., Chisholm's Theory of Knowledge, op. cit., pp. 28-29. Back
6 Ibid., pp. 98-99. Cf., his "On The Nature of Empirical Evidence," in Empirical Knowledge, eds. Chisholm and Schwartz (Englewood Cliffs: Prentice Hall, 1973), p. 245; and his "Theory of Knowledge," in Philosophy: The Princeton Series, eds. Chisholm et. al. (Englewood Cliffs: Prentice Hall, 1965), p. 263. Cf., also B. Aune, "Remarks on Argument by Chisholm," in Philosophical Studies v. 23 (1972), pp. 327-334. Back
7 Chisholm, The Problem of the Criterion, op. cit., p. 22-23. Back
8 Indeed, in his Theory of Knowledge (op. cit.) Chisholm calls his view "commonsensism" rather than "particularism" (cf., pp. 121 ff. and p. 26). Back
8a Cf., Moore, “A Defense of Common Sense,” op. cit., p. 55 of our text. Back
9 Moore, "Proof of An External World," op. cit., pp. 55 of our text. Back
10 In his Meditations on First Philosophy [1641], Rene Descartes offers a version of the traditional skeptical worry that one's current experiences might be occurring within a dream (rather than within the context of a wide awake student studying philosophy. Cf., Rene Descartes, First Meditations, trans. Elizabeth Haldane and G. Ross, pp. 22-24 of our text. The translation originally appeared in Philosophical Works of Descartes (Cambridge: Cambridge U.P., 1931). Back
11 G.E. Moore, "Certainty," in his Philosophical Papers, (London: Allen and Unwin, 1959), pp. 227-251, p. 247. Back
12 Cf., Moore's "Proof of An External World," op. cit., p. 55 of our text. Back
13 A fideist is an individual who contends that there are significant limitations upon human rationality--some truths must be taken on faith. These truths are not subject to rational justification--in fact it is upon their foundation that the enterprise of rational justification may proceed. Moore begins his "Proof of An External World" with a citation from Kant who, he says, advances just this sort of fideistic view. Back
14 Moore, "Proof of An External World," op. cit., p. 55 of our text. Back
15 Moore, "Certainty," op. cit., p. 227. Back
File revised on 01/13/2009.