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DAVID FOSTER WALLACE AND THE FALLACIES OF âFATALISMâ
WILLIAM HASKER
In 1985 David Foster Wallace, then a senior at Amherst College, decided to devote his philosophy honors thesis to the issues raised by Richard Taylorâs paper âFatalism,â published two decades earlier. Taylorâs paper had generated a storm of discussion, most of it critical of his argument. (Apparently, no one actually considered the argument to be sound, not even Taylor.) Wallace, however, found all of the previous criticisms to be inadequate in one way or another, so he set out to provide a new refutation, creating in the process a new system of formal logic to deal with what he termed âsituational physical necessity and possibility.â
Now, Wallaceâs thesis does not by any means represent a turning point in recent philosophy; indeed, its very existence was known to only a few before its publication in the book to which this present volume is a sequel (Wallace 2011). Nevertheless, I believe there is a good deal to be learned from a reexamination of Taylorâs argument, the various criticisms of it, and Wallaceâs response. Considering these matters can throw light not only on Taylorâs and Wallaceâs philosophical positions but also on the general philosophical climate of the period. I will begin by presenting Taylorâs argument, followed by a selection from the criticisms made of it and the reasons Taylor and Wallace, as well as Taylorâs defender Steven Cahn, found them inadequate. This will be followed by a summary of Wallaceâs system and the criticisms of Taylorâs argument that emerged from it; these criticisms are compared with those that had been made previously. Finally, I offer a few comments on the guise in which these problems present themselves in our own time.
The narrative of Taylorâs argument for fatalism is best begun not with his article of that name (Taylor 1962a) but with an earlier article, âThe Problem of Future Contingenciesâ (Taylor 1957). This was a carefully argued defense of Aristotleâs view that assertions concerning future contingent events are neither true nor false; it also included a proposed revision of the traditional theological doctrine of divine omniscience. The article is well-balanced, reasonable, and contains excellent scholarship on Aristotle; furthermore, it makes a good (though perhaps not airtight) case for its conclusion. In spite of these merits, however, the article fell mostly on deaf ears, to the extent that it reached any ears at all (often a moot question concerning scholarly publications!).
The failure of this article to elicit a greater response may well have been a motivating factor for the subsequent publication, in 1962, of Taylorâs essay on fatalism. The strategy of the argument (though not its explicit form) would seem to have been a kind of reductio ad absurdum: âIf you wonât accept Aristotleâs and my argument concerning future contingents, see what you will be stuck with in its place!â What appeared in place of the Aristotelian conclusion was precisely fatalism, which Taylor described thus:
A fatalistâif there is any suchâthinks he cannot do anything about the future. He thinks it is not up to him what is going to happen next year, tomorrow, or the very next moment. He thinks that even his own behavior is not in the least within his power, any more than the motions of the heavenly bodies, the events of remote history, or the political developments in China. It would, accordingly, be pointless for him to deliberate about what he is going to do, for a man deliberates only about such things as he believes are within his power to do and to forego, or to affect by his doings and foregoings.
(Taylor 1962A, 41)
Taylor proposed to deduce fatalism from a set of six âpresuppositions made almost universally in contemporary philosophyâ (Taylor 1962a, 42). I give these presuppositions in his own words, though with some omissions where nothing essential is lost thereby.
First, we presuppose that any proposition whatever is either true or, if not true, then false.âŚ
Second, we presuppose that, if any state of affairs is sufficient for, though logically unrelated to, the occurrence of some further condition at the same or any other time, then the former cannot occur without the latter occurring also. This is simply the standard manner in which the concept of sufficiency is explicated.âŚ
Third, we presuppose that, if the occurrence of any condition is necessary for, but logically unrelated to, the occurrence of some other condition at the same or any other time, then the latter cannot occur without the former occurring also. This is simply the standard manner in which the concept of a necessary condition is explicated.âŚ
Fourth, we presuppose that, if one condition or set of conditions is sufficient for (ensures) another, then that other is necessary (essential) for it, and conversely, if one condition or set of conditions is necessary (essential) for another, then that other is sufficient for (ensures) it. This is but a logical consequence of the second and third presuppositions.
Fifth, we presuppose that no agent can perform any given act if there is lacking, at the same or any other time, some condition necessary for the occurrence of that act. This follows simply from the idea of anything being essential for the accomplishment of something else.âŚ
And sixth, we presuppose that time is not by itself âefficaciousâ; that is, that the mere passage of time does not augment or diminish the capacities of anything and, in particular, that it does not enhance or decrease an agentâs powers or abilities.âŚ
(Taylor 1962A, 43â44)
Of these presuppositions, P2, P3, and P4 are essentially definitions; apart from minor quibbles, they are effectively beyond challenge. P6 is seriously ambiguous,1 but this is not too important inasmuch as it is not actually employed as a premise in the proof Taylor offers. His own inclination is to reject P1, the assumption of bivalence; as we shall see, he had a surprise awaiting him in this territory. Much of the criticism by other philosophers, however, was centered on P5. But before getting into that, we need to look at Taylorâs proof of fatalism.
Taylor takes as his example (with a tip of the hat to Aristotle) the occurrence or nonoccurrence of a naval battle on a particular day. First, he considers the situation the day after the naval battle either occurred or failed to occur. He assumes that
conditions are such that only if there was a naval battle yesterday does the newspaper carry a certain kind (shape) of headlineâi.e., that such a battle is essential for this kind of headlineâwhereas if it carries a certain different sort (shape) of headline, this will ensure that there was no such battle.2 Now, then, I am about to perform one or the other of two acts, namely, one of seeing a headline of the first kind, or one of seeing a headline of the second kind.
(Taylor 1962A, 44)
Now, for me to read the headline stating that no battle occurred, the nonoccurrence of a naval battle yesterday is a necessary condition.3 And it follows from P5 that, this necessary condition being absentâthat is, if a battle did in fact occurâit is not in my power to perform the action of reading that sort of headline. And on the other hand, for me to read the headline stating that the battle had occurred, a necessary condition is the occurrence of the battle. Once again, it follows from P5 that, if this necessary condition is absentâthat is, if no battle occurredâit is not in my power to read a headline stating that the battle had occurred. So, given the situation as described, I have no control over which sort of headline I will be reading. Taylor goes on to say, âthis conclusion is perfectly in accordance with common sense, for we all are⌠fatalists with respect to the pastâ (Taylor 1962a, 45). For future reference, call this Argument I.
Next, Taylor considers the situation the day before the battle would occur or fail to occur. Now we are to imagine that
I am a naval commander, about to issue my order of the day to the fleet. We assume, further, that, within the totality of other conditions prevailing, my issuing of a certain kind of order will ensure that a naval battle will occur tomorrow, whereas if I issue another kind of order, this will ensure that no naval battle occurs.
(Taylor 1962A, 46)
Now, my issuing an order of the first kind is sufficient (given the other conditions that prevail) for a naval battle to occur; it follows from this (by P4) that the occurrence of the battle is a necessary condition of my issuing such an order. But now it follows, given P5, that in the absence of this necessary conditionâthat is, if no battle occursâit is not in my power to issue an order of that particular sort. And on the other hand, my issuing an order of the other sort is sufficient to ensure that no naval battle occurs; thus, (by P4) the nonoccurrence of a battle is a necessary condition of my issuing an order of this second sort. And once again it follows, given P5, that absent this necessary conditionâthat is, if a battle does occurâit is not in my power to issue an order of this second sort. But either it is true that a naval battle will occur, or it is true that no naval battle will occur (by P1)âand whichever of these is the case, I have no control over which sort of order I will issue. And this result, extended to cover each and every one of my actions, is fatalism. Call this Argument II.
Before we address the criticisms that were made of these arguments, it seems appropriate to call attention to some dramatic but misleading rhetoric in Taylorâs articleârhetoric, I surmise, that was put in place in order to enhance the âshock effectâ of his thesis and elicit a more forceful response from his readers. The conclusion of the article4 manages to suggest, without actually stating, that Taylor either accepted fatalism or was strongly inclined in that direction, something we know was not the case. Even more egregious, however, is his initial characterization of the fatalistic hypothesis. It is already misleading to say that we have no more control over our own behavior than over the motions of the heavenly bodies. As compatibilists on free will have pointed out at great length, even if our behavior is causally determined it is controlled by our own desires, intentions, and decisions, something that obviously does not apply to the heavenly motions or the events of remote history. And the claim that it would be pointless for us to deliberate is simply false. People who seriously believe in fatalism (a.k.a. determinism),5 such as theological Calvinists, are often at pains to deny that our deliberations, decisions, and exertions of effort are pointless. All of these things, they rightly point out, make a difference in the world because they make a difference to our actions. Itâs true enough that, as we consider the matter from a detached perspective, we will conclude (if we are determinists) that no other course of action was really possible. But that does not mean that our efforts are in vain. Taylorâs description may capture the connotations of âfatalismâ as the term is often used, but it goes far beyond anything that is warranted by the fatalistic doctrine he argues for.
At this point I propose to skip ahead a bit and address an objection to Taylorâs argument that appeared at a slightly later stage in the discussion. In 1964 Steven Cahn published an article (Cahn 1964) in which he defended Taylorâs argument from some of the more common objections raised against it. However, he added a new objection of his own, an objection that has the distinction of being the only objection that Taylor himself ever recognized as having any validity. The point made by Cahn is one that we might feel, in retrospect, ought to have been obvious all along. The fact remains, however, that for a considerable period of time it was not obvious, either to Taylor or to any of the highly qualified philosophers who had undertaken to refute Taylorâs argument.
Here, in brief, is Cahnâs point:6 It is, as we have seen, a necessary condition of the admiralâs issuing a certain order that there is a naval battle the following day. Now, suppose that, as he is considering what to do, the proposition âThere will be a naval battle tomorrowâ is neither true nor false. It follows from this, trivially, that âThere will be a naval battle tomorrowâ is not true, and because it is not true, a necessary condition for his issuing that order is lacking, and it follows (by P5) that no such order can be issued. On the other hand, however, it is a necessary condition of the admiralâs issuing a different sort of order that there shall be no naval battle on the following day. But once again: the proposition âThere will be no naval battle tomorrowâ is, by hypothesis, neither true nor false. It now follows trivially that this prop...