The Role of Intuitions in Philosophical Methodology

Serena Maria Nicoli

• Éditeur: Palgrave Macmillan
• Année: 2016
• ISBN:
  9781137567154
• Sujet: Philosophy
• Sous-sujet: Philosophy History & Theory

This book focuses on the role of intuition in querying Socratic problems, the very nature of intuition itself, and whether it can be legitimately used to support or reject philosophical theses. The reader is introduced to questions connected to the use of intuition in philosophy through an analysis of two methods where the appeal to intuition is explicit: thought experiments and reflective equilibrium. In addition, the debate on the legitimacy of such an appeal is presented as connected to the discussion on the nature of the aims and results of philosophical inquiries. Finally, the main tenets and results of experimental philosophers are discussed, highlighting the methodological limits of such studies. Readers interested in the nature of intuition in philosophy will find this an invaluable and revealing resource.

Part I
The Method of Philosophy

© The Author(s) 2016

Serena Maria NicoliThe Role of Intuitions in Philosophical Methodology10.1057/978-1-137-56715-4_1

Begin Abstract

1. Introduction to Part I

Serena Maria Nicoli¹

(1)

Torino, Italy

End Abstract

1.1 What Is X? Intuitions: A Basis for Theory Construction and Justification

One of the main worries of philosophers from Plato’s dialogues to today’s inquiries is investigating the so-called ‘Socratic questions’, in other words, questions of the form ‘What is X?’. Answering questions like ‘What is knowledge?’, ‘What is justice?’, ‘What is reference?’ is arguably the main motive for most philosophers’ work. Hence, it is important to clarify the methodology of investigation of Socratic questions.

Let us consider one of Plato’s most famous dialogues, The Republic. In Book I, Plato asks what justice is. The question emerges through a dialogue between Socrates and Cephalus. First, Socrates asks Cephalus what being old and rich is like. Cephalus answers

The great blessing of riches, I do not say to every man, but to a good man, is, that he has had no occasion to deceive or to defraud others, either intentionally or unintentionally; and when he departs to the world below he is not in any apprehension about offerings due to the gods or debts which he owes to men. Now to this peace of mind the possession of wealth greatly contributes; and therefore I say, that, setting one thing against another, of the many advantages which wealth has to give, to a man of sense this is in my opinion the greatest. (Plato 1901, pp. 330e–331a)

Cephalus’s answer prompts new questions and, in fact, Socrates replies:

But as concerning justice, what is it?—to speak the truth and to pay your debts—no more than this? And even to this are there not exceptions? Suppose that a friend when in his right mind has deposited arms with me and he asks for them when he is not in his right mind, ought I to give them back to him? No one would say that I ought or that I should be right in doing so, any more than they would say that I ought always to speak the truth to one who is in his condition.

You are quite right, he replied.

But then, I said, speaking the truth and paying your debts is not a correct definition of justice.

Quite correct, Socrates. (Plato 1901, p. 331b–331d)

What is Socrates’ teaching? He teaches Cephalus that justice doesn’t amount to telling the truth and paying one’s own debts. How does he teach that? By presenting a case in which we would say that telling the truth and paying one’s own debts is unjust.

The strategy adopted by the philosopher is part of a broader practice called ‘the method of cases’: a philosopher investigating a problem X (justice, knowledge, and so on) considers a series of situations in which we would say that a certain action is just or unjust, a certain belief is or isn’t knowledge, and tries to find a theory on X accounting for what we would say in such and such circumstances.

The case discussed above is appropriate to reject a specific account of justice: justice doesn’t amount to telling the truth and paying one’s own debts, since, in the case of the crazed friend, we would say that telling the truth and paying one’s own debts is unjust. The case in question is an imaginary counterexample to a thesis or, as participants in recent debate on the philosophical method generally call it, a ‘thought experiment’ (TE).

In the last century, Rawls, a political philosopher who was interested, like Plato, in the problem of justice, provided a detailed description of the method of cases. He called ‘intuitions’ the judgements expressing what we would say in such and such circumstances, and ‘reflective equilibrium’ (RE) the method that uses such judgements to build and justify theories proposed as answers to Socratic problems.

According to Rawls (1951), intuitions are the result of an inquiry into the facts concerning the cases being judged and reflections on the possible effects of different decisions. More precisely, a (moral) judgement is intuitive as it is not explicitly theoretical, that is, not determined by a systematic and conscious application of (ethical) principles. In general and non-strictly moral terms, his idea can be reconstructed as follows: an intuition on X (justice, knowledge, reference) expresses what we would say about X in real or counterfactual circumstances without appealing to any specific theory about X (justice, knowledge, reference).

What about the method of philosophy—the method that Rawls (1971) dubs ‘reflective equilibrium’ (RE)?

Suppose we are wondering what X (justice, knowledge, and so on) is. Presumptively, we would begin by considering a bunch of situations in which we say that a certain action is just or unjust, a certain belief is or is not knowledge. Hence, based on the initial set of intuitive verdicts (let’s call this set I ₁), we would try to elaborate a response to our question, that is, develop a theory T ₁ by an inference to the best explanation (IBE) from the set I ₁.

Let’s suppose that we have managed to produce a theory, T ₁, that is a consistent framework accounting for I ₁. T ₁ will imply a set of consequences. Inside this set there will be consequences agreeing with I ₁. However, there will plausibly be other consequences unexpectedly contradicting some other intuitions of ours (let’s call the set of these consequences, I ₂). Namely, we may find that there are cases—real or hypothetical—in which we judge the opposite of what the theory predicts (case A). T ₁ is satisfactory insofar as it presupposes (and explains) I ₁, dubious insofar as it entails I ₂. If (case A′) the consequences I ₂ are felt to be irreparably counterintuitive, then T ₁ has to be abandoned and a new theory has to be built. The constraint for the new theory, T ₂, is to presuppose I ₁, as T ₁ did, and not to entail I ₂.

Let’s suppose that T ₂ actually explains I ₁, and that its consequences do not contradict the intuitions T₁ contradicted. Still, T ₂ might also happen to bear some unwanted consequences (I ₃). Again, one should go back to the theory and try to adjust it in the light of this new evidence. The search for a new theory that doesn’t entail intuitions we aren’t willing to accept may continue indefinitely; however, let’s assume that one manages to find a theory T ₂ that actually explains I ₁, that does not disagree with the intuitions T ₁ contradicted and doesn’t bear further unwanted consequences (I ₃). Then the result is mutual support between theory and intuitions, that is, achievement of the so-called reflective equilibrium (RE).

It is worth pointing out that, according to Rawls (1971) and to the other theorists of this method (Goodman 1955; Lewis 1973, 1980a; Daniels 1979b, 1980a), the opposite to what happens in case A′ can also occur: the theory can prevail on our intuitions. Namely, a theory could be strong enough to prompt us to a Gestalt switch by persuading us to judge the relevant case according to the theory, and against the originally problematic intuition. If so, we decide to preserve the theory and revise the set of intuitions: we abandon our original intuitions and embrace the consequences of the theory (I ₃) as new intuitions (case A′′).

In essence, in the face of problematic scenarios the theorist can either modify the theory on the basis of intuitions, or adjust the set of intuitions on the basis of the theory. Either way, the goal is the same: reconcile our theoretical convictions with our intuitive judgements. That is to say, we seek an agreement between a theory’s predictions (what the theory says is correct to judge in such and such circumstances) and what we deem correct to say in the same circumstances regardless of the theory.

In Chap. 3, I will say more on reflective equilibrium. At this point I will use a (non-moral) example to illustrate the reflective dynamics in which intuitions are involved. Let us imagine that we are interested in understanding what knowledge is, and let us consider the following scenarios. A subject, S, states it is two o’clock. Does S know it is two o’clock? Intuitively, if S knows it is two o’clock, then (1) it is two o’clock, and (2) S believes it is two o’clock. Let us take (1): if it were not two o’clock, would we say that S knows it is two o’clock? Obviously, we would not: if it were not two o’clock, S would not know that it is two o’clock, rather S would merely presume to know it is two o’clock. Let us then take (2): S says ‘it is two o’clock, but I do not believe it is two o’clock’: would we say that S knows it is two o’clock? Not really: even if it were two o’clock, we would never say that S does not believe it is two o’clock and nevertheless knows it. To be considered knowledge, a proposition has to be believed. Hence, have we defined what knowledge is? Let us imagine S says it is two o’clock, believes it is two o’clock, but is merely taking a wild guess. Would we say that S knows it is two o’clock? Obviously not: for S to know it is two o’clock, S should have an adequate justification. So, let us suppose that S looks at a watch and the watch shows two o’clock. Would we say that S knows it is two o’clock? In this case, we would. Hence, based on these considerations we may conclude that knowledge is justified true belief. However, let us imagine this rare—but concretely possible—scenario: S looks at the watch at two o’clock, the watch shows two o’clock but is broken. Fortuitously the minute and hour hands are oriented so as to show two o’clock. Does S know it is two o’clock? No, we would not say that S knows.

This last instance—the case of the broken clock showing fortuitously the right time—is a version of the sort of cases introduced by Gettier in ‘Is justified true belief knowledge?’ (1963). In this famous paper Gettier refuted the theory of knowledge that was at the time accepted by the community of epistemologists: the theory according to which knowledge is justified true belief (JTB theory of knowledge). How did he manage to do this? By showing that there are cases in which a certain belief is justified true belief but not knowledge. Let us take the case of the broken watch: if the JTB theory of knowledge were true, it would follow that S would know that it is two o’ clock, but, clearly, we would not say that S does.

In conclusion, intuitive verdicts seem to play a crucial role in the investigation of Socratic problems. They precede and govern the elaboration of theories and offer criteria for their acceptance: we can claim a theory is justified by showing it matches with our intuitions about cases; or we can attack a theory by showing that it does not account for our intuitions in a series of cases. According to a widely shared thesis, intuitions are the evidence philosophers appeal to.

1.2 What Are Intuitions?

Yet, what are intuitions exactly? Can they be legitimately used to support or attack philosophical theories? Over the last decades, a renewed interest in metaphilosophical issues has prompted many philosophers in the analytic tradition to investigate the nature of intuitions. Generally, when explaining what intuitions are, participants in the debate introduce cases of the sort considered in Section 1.1. Philosophical intuitions are presented through TEs because TEs are the ‘loci’ where the appeal to intuitions is usually acknowledged and intuitive judgements are easy to identify. Aside from judgements expressing what we would say in the hypothetical circumstances described in TEs, also verdicts like ‘Torturing an innocent for fun is wrong’ or ‘It is impossible for a square to have five sides’ are presented as intuitions (Pust 2012). Yet, can we give a definition of what a philosophical intuition is?

In the last few years, a wide range of answers has been provided. In his entry to the Stanford Encyclopaedia of Philosophy, ‘Intuition’, Pust notices that psychologists and philosophers with naturalistic inclinations (Gopnik and Schwitzgebel 1998; Kornblith 1998; Devitt 2006) tend to attribute a special aetiology to intuitive judgements: an intuition is a belief that is not consciously inferred from some other belief. By contrast, tradition-oriented philosophers opt for more parsimonious answers. For example, Lewis claims that ‘intuitions are simply opinions’ (Lewis 1983a, p. x). Similarly, for Van Inwagen ‘our “intuitions” are simply our beliefs—or perhaps, in some cases, the tendencies that make certain beliefs attractive to us, that “move” us in the direction of accepting certain propositions without taking us all the way to acceptance’ (Van Inwagen 1997, p. 309).

One problem for parsimonious characterizations is that they do not account for the fact that ‘one can have an intuition that p while one does not believe that p and one can have a belief that p without having an intuition that p’ (Pust 2012, p. 3). To illustrate this problem Pust uses the analogy with perceptive illusions. He mentions Müller–Lyer arrows, an optical illusion in which two lines (arrows) of identical length are perceived to be different in length because of the different orientation of the fins (on one arrow the fins are oriented inwards and on the other one they are oriented outwards): even though we have measured the two lines and we know that they are equal, we still see one line longer than the other. The same ‘resistance’ seems to characterize (some) philosophical intuitions: alt...

Table des matières

• Cover
• Frontmatter
• 1. The Method of Philosophy
• 2. What Is Philosophy?
• 3. Experimental Philosophy
• Backmatter