Are All Genuine Problems Soluble? A Metaphilosophical Antilogism

The old questions are still debated.  The problems remain unsolved after millenia: there is no consensus among the competent.  But what does interminable debate and lack of consensus show? That philosophical problems are genuine but insoluble or that they are not genuine because insoluble?  Or something else?

Our metaphilosophical problem may be cast in the mold of an antilogism:

1. All genuine problems are soluble.
2. No problem of philosophy is soluble.
3. Some problems of philosophy are genuine.

Each limb of this aporetic triad lays serious claim to our acceptance.  (1) will strike many as self-evident, especially if soluble means 'soluble eventually' or perhaps  'soluble in principle.'  (2) is a good induction based on two and one half millenia of philosophical experience.  Or can you point to a central or core problem that has been solved to the satisfaction of all able practioners?  Give me an example if you think you have one, and I will blow it clean out of the water.  (3) certainly seems to be true, does it not?  The main problems of philosophy when carefully and rigorously formulated are as genuine as any problem.  And yet the triad's limbs cannot all be true.  The first two limbs, taken together, entail the negation of the third.  So one of them must be rejected.

Think about this metaproblem.  Is it not genuine and important?

For every antilogism there are three corresponding syllogisms, and so our antilogism gives rise to the following three syllogistic arguments:

1. All genuine problems are soluble.
2. No  problem of philosophy is soluble.
-----
~3. No problem of philosophy is genuine.

1. All genuine problems are soluble.
3. Some problems of philosophy are genuine.
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~2. Some problems of philosophy are soluble.

2. No problem of philosophy is soluble.
3. Some problems of philosophy are genuine.
-----
~1. Some genuine problems are not soluble.

Each of these syllogisms is valid.  But only one can be sound.  Which one?  Is there any rational way to decide?  The first syllogism encapsulates the view of the logical positivist Moritz Schlick as expressed in his "The Turning Point in Philosophy."  His thesis is that the problems of philosophy are pseudo-problems.  But if so, then the metaproblem we have been discussing, which of course is a philosophical problem, is a also a pseudo-problem.  But if it is a pseudo-problem, then it has no solution.  But it does have a solution for Schlick, one that consists in denying (3).  So the Schlick solution is incoherent.  On the one hand, he maintains that the problems of philosophy are pseudo-problems.  On the other hand, he thinks that the metaproblem of whether philosophical problems are pseudoproblems has a solution.  Thus his position leads to a contradiction.

Many will plump for the second syllogism.  They will be forgiven for so plumping.  They are the optimists who fancy that in the fullness of time solutions will be upon us.

I put my money on the third syllogism. I reject (1), thereby maintaining that some genuine problems are insoluble. Indeed, I want to go further.  I want to maintain that all genuine philosophical problems are insoluble.  I consider the above metaphilosophical problem to be an example of a genuine but insoluble problem.  So I am not claiming that my rejection of (1) solves the metaphilosophical problem. If I made that claim then I would be contradicting myself.  I would be claiming that philosophical problems are insoluble but that the metaproblem (which is a philosophical problem) is soluble. So what am I saying?

Perhaps what I am saying is that I have no compelling reason to prefer the third syllogism to the other two, but that my preferring of the third is rationally acceptable, rationally supportable, and may well lay bare the truth of the matter. 

Comments

[Account Deleted]

Bill,

You accept (2) based on the following:

"(2) is a good induction based on two and one half millenia of philosophical experience."

But this is a self-defeating argument.

Induction is certainly a philosophical problem. If (2) is true, then the problem of induction is insoluble. But if the problem of induction is insoluble, then we do not know whether it is a reliable form of inference. And since we do not know whether induction is a reliable form of inference, we should not rely upon it to support any proposition; particularly, we should not rely upon induction to support (2).

Hence, you do not have an argument on behalf of (2). Therefore, I reject (2) and any syllogism of which it is a premise.

[Bill Vallicella]

Peter,

I would say that we know that induction is a reliable form of inference whether or not we can solve the problem of induction just as we know that motion occurs whether or not we can answer adequately all of Zeno's arguments.

We would be in very bad shape indeed if our reliance on any cognitive procedure had to wait upon our having solved all the philosophical problems thrown up by that procedure. Note that the following two propositions are consistent (with each other):

1. The problem of induction is insoluble.

2. Some of what we know we know reliably on the basis of induction.

Induction is not the problem of induction. The fact, if it is a fact, that we are incapable of understanding how induction is possible does not show that induction is not a source of knowledge.

When you come to my door tomorrow I will know it is you just by looking -- and this depsite the fact, if it is a fact, that the problems of perception are insoluble.

[Account Deleted]

Bill,

I am not sure how to understand your response. If we already know that induction is a reliable form of inference, then what is the philosophical problem of induction? And why it is not solved? After all, if we do know that induction is reliable, then we could identify our justification that grounds this knowledge and rely on this justification to solve the problem of induction. But we do not know whether induction is a reliable form of inference. Hence the philosophical problem of induction.

The mere fact that in every day life we do (and even must) rely upon induction (perception, motion exists, etc.,) in order to conduct our life is far from conclusive evidence that we do not have a philosophical problem of induction (perception, motion, etc.). For if such reliance were grounds to dismiss the philosophical problem, then there would not be philosophical problems at all. These problems arise very often because while we rely upon these assumptions in order to conduct our life, they do not seem to be supportable on rational grounds.

Since your argument is a philosophical argument, the justification for each premise needs to be rationally grounded. But the justification for premise (2) is not so grounded, because it relies upon induction and this form of inference may not be rationally justified.

[Doug]

What does it mean for a problem to be solvable?
A: a solution exists?
B: a solution-that-exists can be found?
C: an accessible-solution-that-exists can be articulated to the "satisfaction of all able practitioners"?

It would appear that you're using "C".

In that case, I also lean toward the third syllogism -- but certainly not due to inherent difficulty of philosophical problems! :-D

"If you have any answers, it is time to start asking more difficult questions."

[Malcolm Pollack]

Hi Bill,

Philosophy is hard work; it requires its practitioners to be athletes of the mind, and it requires also the painstaking construction of a great deal of complex intellectual scaffolding -- all just to enable the erection of an edifice that you've now said you believe can never be built.

A metaphilosophical question, then: If you really are serious in saying that you think the core problems of philosophy are insoluble, why should one keep at it? Crypto-optimism?

The practice of philosophy surely keeps the intellectual faculties in excellent working order, but there are plenty of brainy pursuits that do that, and pay higher practical dividends. Why work so hard chasing rainbows?

[Bill Vallicella]

Doug,

Good comment. Those are the right questions to ask. Yes, I gravitate toward (C). That of course requires defense in a separate post.

Roughly: there are no problems in themselves. There are problems only for us. So solutions have to be accessible to us to count as solutions. Furthermore, the disagreement of able practitioners gives us good reason to suspect that a proposed solution is not a genuine solution.

[Bill Vallicella]

Malcolm,

You too are posing an excellent and important question.

Starting with your last comment, I fully agree that justifying phil. activity on the ground that it keeps the intellect tuned up is a pretty lame justification for the very reasons you gave.

I want also to say that I would prefer genuine solutions if such are attainable to the stance according to which the core problems are insoluble. But better no solution than a pseudo-solution. So there is some crypto-optimism hiding behind my pessimism. But note that if I am right then my pessmism is really realism.

Why do philosophy if one believes that the central problems are absolutely insoluble? Here are some possible answers.

1. Solutions relative to cognitive values and background assumptions are attainable, and these solutions are good enough. (Rescher) I don't endorse this, but it is a possible position.

2. Though the problems are insoluble, studying them gives us insight into the limits of the human intellect, and this is a very good thing. On this approach, the task of philosophy is mainly negative: the debunking of epistemic pretense a la Socrates. This includes the exposure and critique of bad philosophy, in particular the scientistic pseudo-philosophy of certain scientists.

3. The study of philosophy and its problems has a civilizing and humanizng effect. Someone who fully appreciates the intractability of the problems and the extreme difficult at arriving at truth will be less like to embrace dogmas which when put into practice lead to strife and bloodshed. E.g., the commies murdered 100 million in the 20th cent. and surely their dogmas played a role in this.

4. A Zen Buddhist could immerse himself in problems he considers intractable with the same goal in mind that he has in mind when he works on a koan. Arguably, the probs of phil are koans that a Westerner can take seriously.

5. A Christian Pyrrhonist can take the insolubility of the probs of phil as yet another proof of the infirmity of reason and of man's fallen nature.

6. There is the sheer pleasure of studying the whole range of problems, their interconnections, and all their details. The hiker doesn't hike to get somewhere, but to enjoy the local cartography. A philosopher may similarly take pleasutre in the cartography of the mind even if he is convinced that he will never 'get anywhere.'