Philosophy

In this essay I argue that Darwinian theory, far from supporting a philosophy of metaphysical materialism, actually calls materialism into question. Once this is recognized we see that evolutionary theory, for all its successes (which are considerable), is more limited than is generally supposed in its ability to reveal or explain the ultimate thrust of life.

Why Does Pain Hurt?: How Evolutionary Theory Contradicts Materialism Richard Oxenberg My thesis in this paper is a fairly simple one, and one, I believe, that is fairly simple to support on rational grounds – although I imagine it will prove controversial among some dedicated to a philosophy of 'scientific objectivism.' But the thesis can be stated simply enough: A materialist interpretation of evolutionary theory cannot account for the subjective dimension of life, and, in particular, cannot account for the desire for physical survival, which it presupposes. When we analyze evolutionary theory with care we discover, somewhat astonishingly, that it is actually inconsistent with a philosophy of metaphysical materialism. A full recognition of this undermines the claims of evolutionary materialists (such as Richard Dawkins and others) who have advanced and popularized the notion that the truth of evolutionary theory implies the falsity of religious belief. But before considering my thesis let me first of all clarify it. I want to be quick to say that when I speak of the limits of evolutionary explanation I do not mean this in the sense in which intelligent design theorists say that natural selection cannot account for irreducible complexity. The ID theorists argue that irreducibly complex organic systems cannot result from natural selection, as each element of the system would need to be selected for independently. This is a more or less straightforward rational argument based upon a key premise of natural selection theory: that only what bestows a survival advantage is selected for. If, say the ID theorists, the elements of an irreducibly complex system do not each bestow a survival advantage then the logic of natural selection itself implies that they cannot have resulted from it. On this basis, it is 2 argued that such systems must be accounted for by something else; in particular, some deliberately acting intelligence. This is the basic argument of ID theory. Evolutionists answer by denying that there are, in fact, 'irreducibly' complex systems. They maintain that the examples of irreducible complexity provided by ID theorists can indeed be shown to be reducible to elements that would have bestowed survival advantage when they first appeared. In some cases, this can be demonstrated more or less directly, in others, say the evolutionists, it is reasonable to assume it on the basis of the general success of natural selection theory. In other words, the evolutionists claim that the explanatory gaps ID theorists profess to find in natural selection theory simply do not exist. My argument differs from this. It does not seek to demonstrate gaps in the explanatory power of evolutionary theory, but to show that evolution's explanations do not reach as far as the evolutionary materialists (e.g., Richard Dawkins, Daniel Dennett, E. O. Wilson, Richard Lewontin, etc.) suggest. Indeed, I maintain that a careful consideration of natural selection theory itself calls into question the assumptions of metaphysical materialism. To see this, however, we will need to attend closely to the logic of natural selection theory. That logic is straightforward and can be expressed simply: In order for a trait to be 'selected for' it must meet two criteria: 1. It must exist. It must be present in some entity. Nothing can be selected for that does not already exist. 2. It must be such as to bestow a survival advantage on the entity that possesses it. Criterion 1 alone is sufficient to indicate the explanatory limits of natural selection theory. This theory is often said to be a theory of origins (of course, Darwin's revolutionary work was entitled The Origin of the Species), but in fact natural selection as such does not explain the 'origin' of anything. Given that only traits that already exist can be selected for, the origin of 3 those traits must be attributed to something other than selection. This is obvious enough, and would be uncontroversial if it were not for the way that evolutionary theorists often slip into a casual, teleological, mode of speaking; as if this or that trait were intentionally produced by natural selection for the purpose of fulfilling this or that survival aim.1 Of course, the evolutionists themselves understand this to be a shorthand, and scientifically sloppy, way of speaking. It is, however, more than sloppy; it is misleading. It involves the logical blunder of mistaking an effect for a cause. According to natural selection theory, survival advantage is the effect of traits that are then selected for because they have that effect. The giraffe's long neck, for instance, is not produced in order for the giraffe to reach the high leaves, rather the giraffe is able to reach the high leaves because it has a long neck. What then is the origin of the long neck? Natural selection theory cannot answer this question. Evolutionary theory in general answers 'random mutation.' But what kind of an 'origin' is this? What is 'random mutation'? Mutation simply means change. Of course, in order for something to change, randomly or otherwise, it must first of all exist, and in two distinct ways. The medium that undergoes the mutation must exist as the substratum of mutation, and that into which that medium changes must exist in potentia as a real possibility of that substratum. For example, in order for the gene that determines the length of the giraffe's neck to mutate into a gene that produces a longer neck, that gene must, first of all, already exist, and, second of all, must have the potential to mutate in just the way it does. Of course, it is entirely possible, logically, that genes in general would not have that particular potential. Even more to the point, neither the existence of genes nor their potentialities have their 'origin' in random mutation. The term 'random mutation' describes a process; it tells us nothing of the origin of that which 4 undergoes the process. It does not answer the question of how the universe comes to be a place that makes possible such genes. Carefully considered, then, neither the theory of natural selection nor the theory of random mutation provide insight into the origin of living traits and processes. These two ideas – natural selection and random mutation – constitute the core of Darwinian evolutionary theory. Neither provide an explanation of the origin of living entities. Thus, evolutionary theory is not actually a theory of 'origins' at all. It describes processes, but yields no insight into the origin of that which undergoes these processes. It describes how, it does not explain wherefrom. But it is this latter that we would need to understand if we wanted to understand the nature of life in its essence. At this point, however, we can hear the evolutionary theorist object. The question evolutionary theory answers is why organic systems have the functional organization they do. Before Darwin, this organization was thought to be the work of a supreme intelligence who crafted these systems in just these ways for a divinely ordained purpose. After Darwin, we were better able to explain this organization as a function of strictly natural, i.e., material, processes. So, the evolutionist says, Darwin's theory does indeed explain what was unexplained or poorly explained before, and does so through appeal to strictly natural, i.e., material, processes. True enough. But a great deal hangs on just what we are to understand by the word 'explain.' What is explained by Darwinian theory is the manner in which living systems become organized. What remains unexplained is the ultimate nature of these living systems. It is this nature we must understand if we are to assess the ultimate potentialities of life. And it is these potentialities we must understand in order to assess the rationality of the religious impulse. Evolutionary theory does not address this. For sure, the evolutionary materialists contend that evolutionary theory implies that the nature of life will be (or can be) understood in entirely material terms. 5 Were this true it would indeed undermine most religious interpretations of the meaning of life. My contention, however, is that evolutionary theory implies no such thing; indeed, it implies the opposite. We can see this most clearly by applying our analysis of the limitations of evolutionary explanation to the non-material, subjective, features of life we are familiar with through introspection. It is a commonplace of evolutionary discourse to speak of the 'competition for,' or 'struggle for,' survival. Given the intensive struggle for survival we see among living systems, we are told, only those that are well adapted to the conditions of survival can persist from generation to generation. Those less well adapted fall by the wayside. This is the logic that drives natural selection. What is seldom noted with respect to this discourse, however, is that the very use of the term 'struggle for survival' takes us beyond the conceptual bounds of metaphysical materialism. Material systems as such may affect one another, but they do not struggle with one another. The word 'struggle' implies intentionality and purpose. A 'struggle for survival' implies a desire to survive. We have immediate knowledge of the existence of such desire, for we experience it within ourselves. What is its origin? How has it arisen? What is its essential nature and ultimate thrust? As we've already noted, evolutionary theory cannot answer these questions. But, given the sloppy way evolutionary theory is often expressed, even by those who know better, it behooves us to put a finer point on this. Surely the desire to survive is selected for, some might say. Those who have a desire to survive are much more likely to behave in ways that will further their survival than those who do not, hence the desire to survive confers a clear survival advantage. This is true enough (although its implications are not at all what the materialists might suppose, as we shall see in a moment). But, again, to suppose that this explains the desire to 6 survive is to mistake an effect for a cause. The survival advantage conferred by the desire to survive is an effect of that desire, not its cause. The selection that then takes place is the effect of the survival advantage. The cause of the desire is not at all given by natural selection theory. It is not even addressed by it. Nor, for reasons stated above, does the idea of 'random mutation' provide a causal explanation. The origin of this desire is a pure mystery. More broadly, the origin of the subjective in general is a pure mystery. No insight into this is provided by evolutionary theory. No one has, or can, explain the mechanism through which a material gene, however randomly mutated, results in thinking, feeling, caring, hoping, loving, etc. Neither the origin nor ultimate nature of these subjective states are given by evolutionary theory. True enough, evolutionary theory tells us that if subjective states are traceable to our genetic structure, then those states will be subject to selective pressures. But this tells us nothing at all of their origin or ultimate nature. Nor does it shed any light on how the subjective can emerge from the material. As some will note, this is simply the mind-body problem considered in the context of evolutionary theory. My point in bringing it up in this context is simply to indicate that evolutionary theory in no way resolves it. This again highlights the limits of evolutionary explanation, and in a particularly striking way. After all, what we are subjectively is what we are most intimately and immediately. Our subjectivity is our immediate presence to ourselves. Without it, we would not be what we are. If we wish to understand our origin and ultimate nature, then, it is the origin of this subjectivity we must understand. Evolutionary theory provides no insight into this. But we can take this point a step further. Indeed, we can turn the materialist argument altogether on its head. How, we might ask, can the desire to survive – a subjective state – confer 7 a physical survival advantage? It can do so only by affecting physical behavior. The natural selection argument in this instance goes something like this: animals who desire survival are, for that reason, more likely to act in ways that further survival than those who do not. Hence, they are more likely to be winners in the struggle for survival. Thus, the desire for survival is 'selected for.' But this will only be true to the extent that desire – again, a subjective state – can have physical efficacy. Somehow this mind-state must be able to reach into matter, the matter of an animal's body, and affect its behavior. To the extent that we were to understand evolutionary theory as grounded in, or as implying, metaphysical materialism, this would make no sense. How can a mere subjective state physically move a material body? On materialist grounds it cannot. This leads us to a startling conclusion: In order for the desire to survive to have any bearing on natural selection at all, metaphysical materialism must be wrong. We can flesh this out by examining what we are calling the 'desire for survival' in closer detail. It might be pointed out that the phrase 'desire for survival' is an abstraction. In fact, we don't desire 'survival' per se, but the furtherance of pleasurable states and the avoidance of painful states. It just happens that natural selection associates pleasure with survival and pain with threats to survival. If the opposite were the case we would desire our demise. Fair enough. But how are we to understand how such an association occurs? In order for the subjective states of pleasure and pain to become associated by natural selection with survival and threats to survival, those states must have the power to induce survival relevant behavior. After all, it is behavior that is either selected for or selected out by tending to promote or undermine survival. In order for an association of pleasure with survival promoting behavior to be selected for, the subjective state of pleasure itself must have the power to modify behavior. If subjective states 8 couldn't affect behavior they would have no bearing on selection. But how, on materialist grounds, can subjective states modify physical behavior? What we would expect, on materialist assumptions, is that there would be no subjective states at all. Of course, we know this not to be the case. In the face of the undeniable fact of subjective states, then, materialism maintains that these states are mere 'epiphenomena,' i.e., irrelevant to the causal nexus of the material world. But this is just what natural selection shows is not the case. If subjective states were irrelevant to material causality they would have no correlation with survival relevant behavior. We would expect a random distribution of these states, and expect them to have no affect on, or association with, behavior. But we do not find a random distribution of subjective states, but rather that positive (i.e., desirable) states are, by and large, associated with survival promoting behavior and negative states with survival threatening behavior. Again, this could only result from natural selection if these states can reach into the physical world and change it. But if they can, then this means the subjective – i.e., the non-material – must have physical efficacy. This altogether contravenes the assumptions of materialism. The materialist would likely counter that these states are not merely subjective, but have material counterparts in the brain or nervous system. Neurological study leaves little doubt that this is so. On this basis, the materialist would argue that it is not the subjective quality of the state that affects physical behavior but its material, neurological, counterpart. This would allow all causality to remain on the material plane. Fair enough. But then how account for the fact that these subjective states have just these subjective qualities? Why, for instance, does the material counterpart of pleasure feel good subjectively? Why does pain, or the physical counterpart of pain, hurt? The materialist can give no plausible explanation for this. If everything results from 9 strictly material interactions to which the quality of subjective states is irrelevant, then the subjective qualities of pleasure and pain would have no efficacy. Not only would there be no need for these subjective qualities to be as they are, but, even more to the point, we could find no plausible explanation for how these qualities come to be associated with physical states and physical behavior relevant to survival. Can it be a mere coincidence that sticking a hand in a fire hurts, or that sexual activity feels good? Such a suggestion strains credulity. The natural selection argument must be that the subjective quality of hurt is selected for because this subjective quality itself induces beneficial avoidance behavior. But, again, this means that the hurt itself, that is, the subjective quality of hurt, must be able to somehow reach into the physical and modify it. It must somehow be able to cause (or induce) our bodies to behave in certain ways. Only to the extent that this is the case does it make sense to believe that natural selection favors an association of hurt with avoidance behavior. But if this is so then the materialist thesis that reality, or, at least, all that is efficacious in reality, has a material basis, must be wrong. We arrive at the astonishing conclusion that evolutionary theory, far from favoring a materialist metaphysic, actually undermines it, by indicating that the subjective has causal efficacy in the material world. This suggests that the subjective – consciousness – cannot be a mere byproduct or 'epiphnomenon' of matter. What then is it? Where does it come from? What is its essential nature? Evolutionary theory does not – indeed cannot – answer these questions. Of particular relevance to religion is the question of what potentialities the subjective has. Can it exist only in association with the material world as we know it, or might there be subjective domains of reality that do not have or require a material basis or association? Nothing in evolutionary theory yields an answer to this question. Are the values that arise from 10 subjective desire, of which the value we place on physical survival is one, restricted to values that promote physical survival, or might the valuation of physical survival be but one aspect of a broader teleological trajectory, inherent to the subjective as such, that would find its ultimate consummation in what the religious person might call 'communion with God'? Again, given that evolutionary theory tells us nothing about the origin of the subjective, and hence nothing of its ultimate nature or thrust, it provides no answer to this question. In order for living systems to survive over generations they must engage in behavior that will effectively pass their genes along, and (to the extent that our subjective valuations have physical efficacy) this implies that behaviors that do will tend to be valued. But this in no way suggests that these are the only values inherent to the subjective. The materialist might point out that we have evidence for Darwinian evolution and the 'struggle for survival' it suggests, but no evidence (other than the subjective testimonies of the faithful) for a religious teleology. But such a point would only be relevant to the extent that belief in the former contradicted belief in the latter, such that we had to choose between them. The point of my essay is to indicate that it does not. Does evolution raise difficulties for theology insofar as it highlights the dog-eat-dog (or animal-eat-animal) structure of the natural world, a structure, some might think, inconsistent with belief in a loving God? Perhaps, but then we did not need Darwin to point out this aspect of nature to us. Isaiah was aware long ago that, in the world we occupy, the wolf does not lie down with the lamb (except to eat it!). What in theology is called the 'problem of evil,' both natural and moral, has long been a difficulty for religion. Faith demands the ability to believe that this problem is not finally fatal to the rationality of theism. This is certainly a subject worthy of consideration, but it is a subject we will have to leave for another time. 11 In closing, I wish to make clear, again, that what I have presented here is no 'God-of-thegaps' argument. What is at issue is whether evolutionary theory makes it unreasonable to believe that human life, at its core, is characterized by a teleology that finds its true consummation in some version of 'communion with God.' This is suggested by evolutionary materialists such as Dawkins and Dennett. My argument is not that they are mistaken because evolutionary theory is wrong or incomplete (as the ID theorists maintain), but that they are mistaken because evolutionary theory does not have the implications they suppose. In particular, it does not preclude the possibility of a 'spiritual' teleology. Indeed, when we consider evolution's own recognition that life 'struggles' for survival – a struggle manifest in the subjective desire for survival – we see that it actually presupposes a teleological dimension to life. My claim is that there is nothing in evolutionary theory that would require us to believe that life's teleology is fully expressed in the pursuit of terrestrial survival. What evolution highlights is that terrestrial life includes this pursuit (something, of course, we already knew), but it neither proves nor implies that it is wholly defined by it. Let us suppose, then, as a thought experiment, that some form of theism is right. What would we expect to see? We would expect to see the emergence of some creature whose desires are indeed favorable to terrestrial survival (otherwise the creature would not survive) but not wholly satisfied with such survival – a creature straining for something beyond mere material, terrestrial, goods, in ways that yield no obvious selective advantage. I maintain that this is just what we do see in the human struggle for beauty, truth, justice, and the spiritual in general. In this way religion serves as some evidence for its own validity. The human spirit aspires to more than mere material continuance. The suggestion on the part of evolutionary materialists that it does not – that, indeed, it cannot – lies at the heart of the hostility many religious people feel toward 12 evolutionary theory. But when we separate evolutionary theory from the philosophy of metaphysical materialism it is often used, or misused, to advance, we see that there is no need for such hostility. The truth of evolutionary theory is consistent with a fully informed and rational spiritual faith. 1 Among the most flagrant examples of this sloppy mode of speaking is the title of Richard Dawkins' popular bestseller, The Selfish Gene. The word 'selfish' suggests an intentionality that is contrary to the actual logic of evolutionary theory


Essentialist modal rationalism

Philosophy

It used to be thought that rational coherence and metaphysical possibility went hand in hand. Kripke and Putnam put a spanner in the works by proposing examples of propositions which seem to violate this principle. I will propose a nuanced form of modal rationalism consistent with the Kripke/putnam cases. The rough idea is that rational coherence entails possibility when you grasp the essential nature of what youâre conceiving of.

Essentialist Modal Rationalism In my recent book Consciousness and Fundamental Reality, I proposed a principle linking rational coherence and metaphysical possibility, as part of an argument against physicalism. Although it was not the focus of concern in this book, I had hoped that that principle might undergird a generalised account of our knowledge of modality. I have subsequently realised, however, that that principle has limited application, in a way that conflicts with these broader ambitions. In this paper I will outline these limitations and propose ways of overcoming them. The result I hope, is the bare bones of an account of how our knowledge of metaphysical modality is grounded in our capacity to discern whether or not a proposition is rationally coherent. In section I, I will give a brief overview of the view I defended in Consciousness and Fundamental Reality. In section II I will explain its limitations and propose a way of resolving them. I It used to be thought that rational coherence and metaphysical possibility went hand in hand, something we can capture with the following principle: Simple Modal Rationalism – For any proposition P, P is rationally coherent (where a proposition is rationally coherent just in case it can't be ruled out a priori) iff there is a metaphysically possible world at which P is true. Kripke (1980) and Putnam (1973) put a spanner in the works by proposing examples of propositions which seem to violate this principle, such as <water is XYZ>.1 We cannot know a priori that water is not XYZ, and yet there is no genuine possibility corresponding to this state of affairs. In Consciousness and Fundamental Reality, I proposed a nuanced form of modal rationalism consistent with the Kripke-Putnam counterexamples to Simple Modal Rationalism. The rough idea is that rational coherence entails possibility when you grasp the essential nature of what you're conceiving of. We can call this general approach 'Essentialist Modal Rationalism'. 1 Kripke 1980, Putnam 1973. 2 Water is essentially H2O and it is thus not possible for it to be XYZ. Why then is it coherent to suppose that water is XYZ? The reason is that the concept <water> does not reveal the essential nature of water. When conceiving of water as 'water' we don't conceive of it in terms of its essential nature (being composed of H2O molecules) and thus it is coherent to suppose that it has some other essential nature (being composed of XYZ molecules). According to the modal rationalism I want to defend, coherence and possibility go together when the concepts being employed yield complete understanding of what is being conceived of (from hereon, by 'possibility' I mean metaphysical possibility). In Consciousness and Fundamental Reality, I expressed this in terms of the distinction between transparent and opaque concepts, defined as follows:  Transparent Concept (1st attempt) – A concept C referring to entity E is transparent just in case C reveals the nature of E (i.e., what it is for E to be part of reality is a priori accessible for someone possessing C, in virtue of possessing C), for example, <sphericity> and <party>.  Opaque Concepts – A concept C referring to entity E is opaque just in case C reveals little or nothing about the nature of E, for example, <water> and <gold> (Goff 2017: 74). For sphericity to be part of reality (by being instantiated2) is for there to be something with all points on its surface equidistant from its centre; for someone possessing the concept of sphericity, this can be known a priori. For water to be part of reality is for there to be something composed of H2O molecules; in contrast to the case of <sphericity>, this cannot be known a priori in virtue of possessing <water>. We are now in a position to give a first attempt at defining a special notion of coherence: Transparent Coherence (1st attempt) – For any proposition P, P is transparently coherent just in case: (i) P contains only transparent concepts, and (ii) P is rationally coherent, i.e. the truth of P cannot be ruled out a priori. 2 The form of reality will depend on the kind of entity. For an individual to be part of reality is for it to exist; for a property to be part of reality is for it to be instantiated (Platonists might want to distinguish a property's existing from its having concrete reality); for an event to be part of reality is for it to take place. 3 Building on this, I defended the following principle linking coherence to possibility: Transparency Coherence Principle (1st attempt) – For any proposition P, if P is transparently coherent, then P is possibly true. And on the basis of this principle, I built a case against physicalism, roughly: The Transparency Argument Against Physicalism 1. Transparency Coherence Principle – For any proposition P, if P is transparently coherent, then there is a metaphysically possible world at which P is true. 2. The proposition <there are zombies> is transparently coherent. 3. If there is a metaphysically possible world at which <there are zombies> is true, then physicalism is false. 4. Therefore, physicalism is false. The defence of premise 2 involved arguing that the concepts involved in <there are zombies>, namely physical and experiential concepts, are transparent. II Accommodating Brute One Offs The Transparency Coherence Principle outlined above is a one-way conditional, and as such it does not rule out that there are propositions that are possibly true but not transparently coherent (in the sense defined above). If there are such propositions, and we know that they are possibly true, then we cannot account for our knowledge of their possible truth in terms of our knowledge of their transparent coherence (because ex hypothesi they aren't transparently coherent, at least not in the above sense). And hence, if we want a general account of our modal knowledge in terms of our knowledge of transparent coherence, then we need the Transparency Coherence Principle in a biconditional form: Biconditional Transparency Coherence Principle – For any proposition P, P is transparently coherent iff P is possibly true.3 3 If we specifically want to account for our modal knowledge, then strictly speaking all we need is the following principle: For any proposition P, P is transparently coherent iff P is known to be possibly true. However, I can't see that this further qualification will make much difference to the discussion. 4 Unfortunately, so long as we are understanding rational coherence as defined in section 1, there are counterexamples to the above principle. To explain why, we need to introduce some more terminology. Let us say that an entity has a 'defining nature' just in case it is possible to understand what it is for that specific entity to be part of reality. Kinds (e.g. water) and properties (e.g. sphericity) seem to have defining natures; we can grasp what it is for these things to be instantiated. But it is not clear that particular individuals, such as a particular electron E, have defining natures. E falls under a kind – the kind electron – and that kind has a defining nature. But there is nothing to be grasped about what it is for E, as opposed to some other electron, to exist. In this sense, particular individuals are 'brute one offs.' (Or at least that is how it seems. Perhaps particular individuals do have defining natures but grasping them is beyond our ken. Perhaps God knows each thing in terms of its defining nature). For any entity that lacks a defining nature, the notion of a transparent concept of that entity gets no purchase. If there is nothing to grasp about what its reality consists in, then there can't be a concept that reveals what its reality consists in. This leads to difficulties for the Biconditional Transparency Coherence Principle. Let us assume that a human individual lacks a defining nature.4 Now consider the proposition <Lewis Carroll exists but Karl Marx does not>. This proposition is both coherent and possibly true. But it is not transparently coherent, as it contains opaque concepts. Nor is it possible to replace the non-transparent concepts involved with co-referring transparent concepts, given that these concepts denote entities that lack defining natures. Thus, we have a genuine possibility – the possibility of Lewis Carroll existing without Karl Marx – which does not correspond to a transparently coherent proposition. In Consciousness and Fundamental Reality, I tried to circumnavigate this problem simply by focusing on those propositions which are rationally coherent in the above sense and defining the link between coherence and possibility in terms of those propositions. The 4 In fact, it is somewhat plausible that a human person has a defining nature in terms of the sperm and egg from which it was formed. In this case, that sperm and that egg will either be brute one offs or will also have defining natures in terms of their origins and their DNA. The entities that define those origins will either be brute one offs or have defining natures given in terms of their origins. It seems plausible to me that as we trace this back at some point we'll get back to brute one offs. In any case, we could simply change the example to avoid this worry (if there are no examples of brute one offs, then we can't change the example, but in that case the problem goes away). 5 problem with this strategy, as stated above, is that it prevents us giving a general account of modal knowledge in terms of knowledge of transparent coherence. I now think there is a fairly straightforward way of extending the formal definition of transparent coherence to avoid this difficulty. The informal idea of transparent coherence is that it's what a proposition has when it reveals to the thinker the full reality of what she is conceiving of (when employing the proposition). Now if you don't know whether or not 'Lewis Carroll' and 'Karl Marx' co-refer, then that's a sense in which you don't fully grasp the state of affairs you're conceiving of when you entertain the proposition <Lewis Carol exists but Karl Marx does not>. For all you know, you might be conceiving of one person existing without himself, but equally you might be conceiving of one person existing without some other person. In so far as this proposition does not reveal to the thinker that Lewis Carroll is distinct from Karl Marx, it fails fully to reveal to the thinker what state of affairs she's conceiving of. The obvious way to fill in this knowledge gap is to conjoin the proposition with the true information about whether or not Lewis Carroll and Karl Marx are identical. Doing this would remove the ignorance discussed in the previous paragraph whilst leaving us with a coherent proposition: <<Lewis Carroll exists without Karl Marx> & <Lewis Carroll is not identical with Karl Marx>> Of course, if it had turned out (epistemically) that Lewis Carroll was identical with Karl Marx, then adding that information would have produced an incoherent proposition: <<Lewis Carroll exists without Karl Marx> & <Lewis Carroll is identical with Karl Marx>>5 Whether or not instances of the above form of proposition are possibly true depends on whether or not the entities referred to are identical, and adding this information gives us an incoherence in cases where the truth of the original proposition was impossible and a coherence in cases where the truth of the original proposition was possible. In other words, we've brought coherence and possibility back together. 5 I am assuming here that the necessity of identity is a priori. 6 This suggests a way to extend the definition of transparent coherence: Transparent Coherence (refined definition)  Proposition P is transparently coherent just in case:  (i) P is coherent,  (ii) In so far as P contains concepts referring to entities with defining natures, those concepts are transparent,  (iii) In so far as P contains concepts referring to brute one offs B1,B2...Bn: P* is coherent, where P* is the proposition formed from conjoining P with true information concerning all identities and non-identities between the entities involved in B1,B2...Bn. With this extended definition of rational coherence, the problem is avoided. The proposition <Lewis Carroll exists without Karl Marx> is transparently coherent and corresponds to a genuine possibility; the proposition <Lewis Carroll exists without Charles Dodgson> is not transparently coherent and does not correspond to a genuine possibility. Exactly the results we wanted. One might wonder why the modal constraints on brute one offs are confined to facts concerning identity/non-identity. In fact, there may well be further modal constraints given by the essential kinds brute one offs falls under. If E is essentially a member of the kind electron, then E will be an electron in any possible world in which it exists. For E to lack a defining nature is for E's specific identity – its identity over and above the kinds it falls under – to be brute: there is nothing to be grasped about what it is for E to exist as opposed to some other electron. It follows that the only constraints on E's identity, beyond being an electron, are those given by logic and the necessity of identity. Some may want to analyse brute identity in terms of the possession of an individuating property – a haecceity – or a substratum. Alternately one may simply accept that there are brute facts about identity and non-identity lacking any deeper underpinning. I need not decide between these options for my purposes here. Accommodating Ostrich Nominalism This modified definition of transparent coherence improves on the original by virtue of accommodating a new kind of entity: brute one offs. However, it still retains an exclusive 7 focus on entities, which leads to a further difficulty for the Essentialist Modal Rationalism we are building upon it. Consider the view David Armstrong mockingly dubbed 'Ostrich nominalism', according to which there are no properties but there are irreducible facts about how entities are. For the Ostrich nominalist, there is no such thing as redness but nonetheless roses are red, and there is no such thing as negative charge but nonetheless electrons are negatively charged. We might put the view by saying that whilst there are no such things as properties, there are such things as propertied objects: red roses, charged electrons, etc. I have defined transparent concepts as a subset of entity-referring concepts: they are those entity-referring concepts that reveal the nature of the entities they refer to. But if there are no properties, then there are no entity-referring concepts associated with predicates, and hence there are no transparent concepts associated with predicates (given the above definition of a transparent concept). And, of course, if there are no such things as properties, then we cannot bring in facts about property identity to determine whether a coherent proposition is transparently coherent, as instructed in the third clause of the refined definition of transparent coherence. Why is this a problem? Assume Ostrich nominalism is true. It would follow that essentialist modal rationalism would be inconsistent with Kripkean exemptions to Simple Modal Rationalism. Consider the proposition: <The material of the golden broach has atomic number 8>. This proposition is clearly coherent. And for the reasons discussed above, if there are no properties associated with its predicates, then we cannot rule out its transparent coherence with reference to the identity of those properties or how they are conceived of. Hence, it seems we must conclude that this proposition is transparently coherent and, assuming the Biconditional Transparency Coherence Principle, that there is a possible world at which it is true. For those who accept the Kripkean exemptions to Simple Modal Rationalism, this is the wrong result. Strictly speaking, the transparency argument against physicalism would go through – as propositions concerning zombies would end up being transparently coherent for the same reason – but the victory would be won too easily. We cannot rule out psychophysical empirical identities by ruling out all of the standardly accepted instances of 8 empirical identities, such as <water is H2O> and <Gold is the element with atomic number 79>. Of course, we could just assert that essentialist modal rationalism is committed to the existence of properties, but this would give the view limited application. A better way forward is to find a more nuanced definition of transparent concept such that predicates can express transparent concepts even in the absence of properties. This is what I will try to do in what follows. I take it that, for the Ostrich nominalist, the predicates of true sentences capture something about reality, just not something that amounts to the presence or absence of entities.6 Imagine an Ostrich nominalist world W containing only a red, spherical object. If you only know that there is an object in W, then you are partially ignorant about W: you don't know that the object in W is red and round. Your ignorance does not consist in failing to know that certain entities exist: there is only one entity and you know that it exists. Nonetheless, your ignorance concerns the metaphysical reality of W. In other words, for both the Ostrich nominalist and the property realist, there is something that is known about reality in knowing that a given predicate, say, charge, truly applies to something in the world. For the property realist, knowing what is ascribed by 'charge' will be a matter of knowing the essential nature of charge; for the Ostrich nominalist, it will be a matter of knowing what it is for something to be charged. We can perhaps get clearer on this with reference to Theodore Sider's notion of metaphysical truth conditions. The metaphysical truths conditions of a sentence are the truth-conditions of S in a perfectly natural language, that is to say a language involving only terms that perfectly carve nature at the joints. Metaphysical truth conditions apply to whole sentences, but we can think of a specific term in terms of its metaphysical contribution, that is to say, the contribution it makes to the metaphysical truth conditions of sentences in which it is involved. If 'negatively charged' is a perfectly natural predicate, then its 6 This needs to be qualified. Even for an austere nominalist, the successful application of some predicates will be a matter of the presence of entities, e.g. 'is identical with Kripke'. I am here focusing on those predicates that property realists take to correspond to perfectly natural properties. 9 metaphysical contribution can, in part, be given as follows: For any sentence S of the form 'X is charged', S is true iff X is negatively charged. To know the metaphysical contribution of the predicate 'negatively charged' is know what it is for something to be charged. Distinct predicates can make the same metaphysical contribution; and while some predicates will be a priori associated with their metaphysical contribution, others will not. Contrast the following two sentences: (A) 'The table is spherical' (B) 'The table is as David thinks it is', where David actually thinks the table is spherical, and the meaning of the predicate is such that its metaphysical contribution across all possible worlds is determined by how David actually thinks the table is (i.e. it is the non-referential analogue of a rigid designator). In both cases, the metaphysical contribution of the predicate is the same, but in the former but not the latter case someone who understands the predicate has a priori access to its metaphysical contribution. The person asserting sentence A knows what they are claiming about reality, whereas the person asserting sentence B may not. In this way, we can give a definition of transparent concept such that a predicate can express a transparent concept even if it doesn't refer to a property:  Transparent Concept (refined definition) – A term T expresses a transparent concept iff T's metaphysical contribution is a priori accessible.7 With the refined definitions of transparent coherence and transparent concept, and a biconditional version of the Transparency Coherence Principle, we now have the resources in place to give a robust and highly flexible account of modal knowledge in terms of knowledge of coherence. I argued in Consciousness and Fundamental Reality that an essentialist account of modal rationalism is to be preferred over David Chalmers' (2009) two-dimensional account of modal rationalism, as the former avoids the contentious meta-semantic assumptions embedded in the two-dimensional framework. I suppose some philosophers may prefer Chalmers' semantic commitments to the commitments to essence and perfect naturalness 7 The corresponding definition of an opaque concept: A terms T expresses a transparent concept iff T's metaphysical contribution is not a priori accessible. 10 employed in my framework.8 I am persuaded on independent grounds that these latter commitments are indispensable but will not repeat these arguments here. For now, I leave it to others to decide which of these foundational commitments they find more palatable.9 References Chalmers, D. J. (2009) 'The two-dimensional argument against materialism,' in B. McLaughlin (Ed.) Oxford Handbook of the Philosophy of Mind, Oxford: Oxford University Press. Goff, P. (2017) Consciousness and Fundamental Reality, New York: Oxford University Press. Kripke, S. (1980) Naming and Necessity, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Putnam, H. (1973) 'Meaning and reference,' Journal of Philosophy, 70: 299-711. 8 One might wonder why we need to bring in a Siderian commitment to perfect naturalness in order to capture the idea that a predicate 'F' might be a priori associated with what it is for something to be F. The problem is that, so long as we are talking loosely, an austere nominalist must surely allow that there is a property of Fness, and likewise the property realist must allow talk of 'what it is for an object to be F'. What I want talk of 'metaphysical truth-conditions' and 'metaphysical contribution' to hone in on is the most fundamental relationship between representation and reality, relative to various metaphysical theses. It is this that is revealed by a transparent concept, in the case of that concept. If austere nominalism is true, then, at the most basic level, 'X is F' is true because X is F; whereas, if property realism is true, then, at the most basic level, 'X is F' is true because X instantiates Fness. Perhaps there are other ways to capture this kind of priority than investing in perfect naturalness, but it seems to me that something like this commitment is required. 9 I am grateful to two anonymous reviewers and for advice from the editor of this issue, Antonella Mallozzi.


Philosophy

Journal of Metaphysics and Connected Consciousness Vol 1, 2015 Pages 1 3 Pereira, Contzen. Biophysical Understanding of Resonance at a Cellular Level Published by The Ministry of Connected Consciousness ISBN 978-1-329-49765-8 Biophysical Understanding of Resonance at a Cellular Level Contzen Pereira * Abstract Consciousness has always been linked to the nervous system or rather the brain, but there recorded conscious behaviors in organisms without nerve cells have changed the perspective of consciousness. A living cell is a blend of resonant frequencies, due to degrees of freedom that make it vibrate as a harmonic oscillator supporting the progression of vibrations as waves in and out of the system; to the neighboring cells, to the body, to other bodies and ultimately to the Universe; all of which connects. Quantum generated consciousness is energy; emerges in each and every living cell and traverses by means of resonating vibrations; which utilizes the cellular structures to flow by means of a coherent, obscured, robust, recoverable process. Key Words: Electromagnetic field, Cell, Consciousness, Quantum, Resonance Introduction Energy is the cause of the universe, a form created from nothingness but its principle of action is expressed through change managed by entropy. Matter is an asymmetric form of light, which moulds and creates e.g. a living cell, with the capability to interact and capture energy. The living cell is an organization of elementary particles, which requires a symmetric energy state, for it to come into existence. Energy obtained in the form of electromagnetic radiation is highly conserved in the universe and is the key to understanding the phenomenon of consciousness. Resonating frequencies are produced when such forces of nature activate the vibrational transfer of energy by means of highly organized objects at their natural frequency or naturally occurring frequencies. Connected via resonance, cells and bodies can transmit energy across domains and therefore are in constant state of interaction and interference; keeping all cosmos connected. Energy controls the movement of consciousness and therefore supports the concept of resonance wherein transduction occurs within cellular structures and at the level of intermingling bodies. The technique of healing is a best example of resonance spawned via consciousness, where healers focus on their subjects to create a resonance interference pattern * Correspondence: C. Pereira, Independent Scholar, India. E-mail: firstname.lastname@example.com; email@example.com Journal of Metaphysics and Connected Consciousness Vol 1, 2015 Pages 1 3 Pereira, Contzen. Biophysical Understanding of Resonance at a Cellular Level Published by The Ministry of Connected Consciousness ISBN 978-1-329-49765-8 resulting in a healing effect, attributed to the supernatural but occurring at a cellular level. Similarly, when people pray for others, they initiate a non-local resonance process which may result in a positive effect due to focused attention and energy transfer. Consciousness exists in every single living cell and the effects of resonating frequencies generated due to structures within the cells of an organism connects at cellular and multicellular level; internally as well as externally. Electromagnetic radiation – Cause and Effect of Consciousness Electromagnetic radiations play an important role in biological systems and depend on energy transferring factors like radiation strength and frequency. Photons that interact with a cell can be absorbed, scattered or reflected and in the process resonates at different frequencies. Scattered photons are eventually absorbed or escape in the form of diffused reflection, but absorbed photons interact with organic molecules or photo molecules. Most communications within or between cells occurs via chemical or electrical signaling. Cells obey the laws of physics, such as the first law of thermodynamics and hence can be viewed as a thermodynamic machine but simultaneously it locally acts against the second law of thermodynamics by creating structural and functional order. Living cells can therefore be viewed as micro-factories with nano-machines performing individual tasks. Meditation and chanting is an art of managing one's own vibrations at a cellular level, which is not produced directly but is derived by a summation of electromagnetic vibrations within the cells that can produce healing effects within tissues and poorly functioning cells. Resonant entrainment is a phenomenon which is demonstrated by biological systems wherein cells oscillating at a particular frequency, oscillate neighboring cells at the same frequency generating a quantum-based conscious or cognitive ripple effect. Materialization of Quantum Consciousness at a Cellular level Consciousness is the ability to be aware of and to be able to perceive the relationship between one's self and one's environment while quantum consciousness proposes the existence and creation of a conscious moment through a computational event. The information of consciousness gained by the movement of the energy, resides in patterns of matter and energy, which are built up in the cell based on prior experiences with more interaction and knowledge. The trapping of electromagnetic radiation and propagation of the energy in the cell wholly depends on the organization of matter, which makes up the cell, its components and biochemical systems. On disentanglement or release, the photons are released and it merges with the electromagnetic radiation in the cosmos, an involuntary cycle that cannot be changed Journal of Metaphysics and Connected Consciousness Vol 1, 2015 Pages 1 3 Pereira, Contzen. Biophysical Understanding of Resonance at a Cellular Level Published by The Ministry of Connected Consciousness ISBN 978-1-329-49765-8 or altered. The photons interact within the cell, only if its structure and cellular processes are primed; in the absence of these structures, the propagation gets altered. Quantum consciousness enables the cell to understand and judge perceptions, which gives the cell a prospect to behave as per will which is released into the cosmos. The universe comprises of things which have known frequencies or more than one frequency. Resonating structures like the cytoskeletal network of single cells resonate when they vibrate at their natural frequency or multiple natural frequencies transferring energy to its adjacent structures so that they begin to vibrate at the same frequency, which begins at a molecular level and connects the cell and the body to the Universe. Meditators, healers, religious, mystics and natural psychics routinely use the technique of resonance, by focusing attention on physical objects and icons by allowing intuitive perceptions to enter a state of conscious awareness. The experience is an altered sense of space-time with closure of self and a unified sense of relationship with all that exists through the balance of the resonating frequencies between the cells, the body, the earth and the universe Conclusion Every single biological cell is conscious and goes through the voluntary and involuntary cycles of quantum generated consciousness. Quantum consciousness though present within a cell becomes much more complex with multicellularity and cell diversity. We are all part of a universe that demonstrates harmonic resonance, which includes the smallest wave-like vibrations that can be generated via the smallest particles of matter to larger orbital resonances that emerge from the galaxies and stars oscillating at specific frequencies. Resonance can be accomplished when the flow of quantum consciousness is smooth, alert and expansive, but gets deformed when consciousness is taut, disordered and apart.


"Portraits of Wittgenstein" by Ian Ground and F.A. Flowers

Philosophy

Derek Jarmanâs Wittgenstein (1993) is one of the very few films made about a philosopherâs life. Almost a parody of a late twentieth-century art-house movie, it contains a mimetic performance by Karl Johnson in the title role, plus cameos by Michael Gough (Bertrand Russell) and the ubiquitous Tilda Swinton (Russellâs lover, Ottoline Morrell). There is a green Martian (played by Nabil Shaban) who quizzes the young Ludwig Wittgenstein, and a collection of handsome young men sitting on deckchairs, looking puzzled and gazing adoringly at the Master. The action, such as it is, takes place against a theatrical black background with a few props, and the whole thing lasts a brisk seventy minutes...

Ian Ground and F.A. Flowers III (editors) PORTRAITS OF WITTGENSTEIN Bloomsbury. 2 Volumes. £250 9781474260190 By Tim Crane Derek Jarman's Wittgenstein (1993) is one of the very few films made about a philosopher's life. Almost a parody of a late 20th century art-house movie, it contains a mimetic performance by Karl Johnson in the title role, plus cameos by Michael Gough (Bertrand Russell) and the ubiquitous Tilda Swinton (Russell's lover, Ottoline Morrell). There is a green Martian (played by Nabil Shaban) who quizzes the young Ludwig Wittgenstein, and a collection of handsome young men sitting on deckchairs, looking puzzled and gazing adoringly at the Master. The action, such as it is, takes place against a theatrical black background with a few props, and the whole thing lasts a brisk 70 minutes. Among all 20th century thinkers, Ludwig Wittgenstein stands out as the one whose life fascinates almost as much as his work does. Even the life of Martin Heidegger, with his controversial Nazi connections and his later attempt to live the authentic life of a peasant, looks dull and suburban by comparison. Wittgenstein was born in 1889 into one of Austria's richest families. His father was a self-made industrialist who built his fortune in iron and steel; his mother came from a Prague Jewish family. Ludwig was the youngest of eight siblings - three sisters and four brothers. Tragedy hit the family again and again. Three of Ludwig's brothers committed suicide. The fourth, Paul, was a concert pianist who lost his right arm in the First World War and later commissioned works for the left hand from Ravel, Prokofiev, Hindemith and Erich Korngold. (Music figured significantly in the family's life: Brahms, Mahler and Richard Strauss were among the composers who heard their works performed at the Wittgenstein house.) Ludwig originally studied engineering, first in Berlin and then in Manchester, where he became interested in the design of aeroplane propellors. At this time he developed a deep interest in mathematics and its foundations. Having studied the ground-breaking works of philosophy of mathematics by Bertrand Russell and Gottlob Frege, he visited Frege in Jena, and Frege advised him to study with Russell in Cambridge. Wittgenstein turned up, unannounced, at Russell's rooms in Trinity College in October 1911, and discussed philosophy with Russell regularly over the next few months. Russell wrote to Ottoline Morrell that his "Austrian engineer" was "rather good" but "very argumentative and tiresome". But Russell was sufficiently impressed to accept Wittgenstein as a student at Cambridge in 1912. Wittgenstein had a huge impact on the intellectual scene there, but throughout his life he claimed to dislike Cambridge and preferred to spend time writing and thinking in remote, isolated places (Norway and Ireland were favourites). After the death of his father in 1913, Wittgenstein inherited a huge fortune, and in the next few years he gave it all away. When war broke out he enlisted in the Austrian Imperial army, and fought on the Eastern front in Galicia and in Italy, where he was captured and spent time in a POW camp. During the war he worked on the book that was to become the Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, the only philosophical book he published in his lifetime (it was published in German in 1921 and the English translation appeared in 1922). Believing that this short and lapidary work had solved the remaining problems of philosophy, Wittgenstein abandoned the subject and trained as a primary schoolteacher in Vienna. He then taught for some years in a small rural village in Lower Austria. While there he was visited by the brilliant young Cambridge philosopher Frank Ramsey, and they discussed philosophy constantly. He left his teaching post under something of a cloud - he had hit one of his pupils so hard that she lost consciousness - and returned to Vienna in 1926, where he designed a house for one of his sisters, Margarete Stonborough. The house, a modernist masterpiece, is now owned by the Bulgarian government (they allow visitors; it is well worth seeing). The philosopher Georg Henrik von Wright wrote that "its beauty is of the same simple and static kind that belongs to the sentences of the Tractatus". Partly as a result of the conversations with Ramsey, Wittgenstein found himself drawn back into philosophy and returned to Cambridge in 1929. Needing a qualification in order to work there, he submitted the Tractatus - now a famous work which had already influenced the direction of 20th century philosophy - as a PhD thesis. One of the examiners, G.E. Moore, wrote in his report, "It is my personal opinion that Mr Wittgenstein's thesis is a work of genius but, even if it is not, it is well above the standard required for the Cambridge degree of Doctor of Philosophy". Wittgenstein began teaching at Cambridge in his unorthodox way - from contemporary accounts, Jarman's representation of it, deckchairs included, is quite accurate - and he produced in the next twenty years a wholly new philosophy which superseded and replaced the doctrines of the Tractatus. This work was finally published after his death as the Philosophical Investigations (1953). During the war Wittgenstein worked in various jobs at Guy's Hospital in London, and at a hospital in Newcastle. Wittgenstein found academic life in Cambridge not to his taste, and made frequent trips to Swansea to visit friends, and to Ireland, where he worked constantly on his philosophy in remote parts of the Irish countryside. He eventually resigned his professorship at Cambridge in 1947. In 1949 he was diagnosed with cancer, and he died in 1951 in the house of his doctor, Dr Bevan, aged 62. His last words, according to Mrs Bevan, were "tell them I've had a wonderful life". Derek Jarman's film was apparently an artistic success (it gets an impressive 83% of critics' support and 76% of audience support, on the popular film review aggregator rottentomatoes.com). From a commercial perspective, though, the film might be seen as a missed opportunity. Imagine what Peter Jackson or Steven Spielberg would have made of Wittgenstein's life: the high culture of imperial Vienna, the war scenes, the remote and beautiful parts of Ireland, Norway and the Austrian Alps, the Bloomsbury culture of early 20th century Cambridge, the wit and chit-chat of Maynard Keynes and Russell, the stark and impressive house in Vienna, Wittgenstein's passionate devotion to a number of younger men, and his own very public struggle to find contentment. A high productionvalues movie of the life of Wittgenstein practically writes itself. Perhaps one day someone will make it. In the years since his death in 1951, many of those who knew Wittgenstein wrote memoirs or descriptions of their encounters with him. These range from a few paragraphs describing the briefest meeting, to full and often insightful analyses of his character by close friends. Many of these memoirs have been published, in a wide variety of places, some more obscure than others. In 1999 F.A. Flowers edited a collection of some of these writings in a volume called Portraits of Wittgenstein. Greatly expanded with much additional material, the book has now been republished by Bloomsbury, with Ian Ground as co-editor. It is a wonderful project - endlessly fascinating for philosophers, but it will also appeal to anyone with the most casual interest in 20th century intellectual history. This is the book everyone needs who is interested in Wittgenstein the man. Many of the contributors to this book are philosophers - including such eminent names as G.E.M. Anscombe, A.J. Ayer, Peter Geach, G.E. Moore and Karl Popper - and others are intellectuals or academics of other kinds - Freeman Dyson, F.R. Leavis and Iris Murdoch, for example. All testify to sheer force of Wittgenstein's personality. "The strongest impression any man ever made on me" von Wright recorded in his diary in 1939 after meeting Wittgenstein. The poignant memoir by Norman Malcolm - one of Wittgenstein's students who had a successful career teaching at Cornell University - is already well-known to philosophers. As in many of these pieces, one thing that comes across in Malcolm's memoir is how incredibly difficult Wittgenstein was. "It was always a strain to be with Wittgenstein", Malcolm writes, "not only were the intellectual demands of his conversation very great, but there was also his severity, his ruthless judgements, his tendency to be censorious, and his depression". Von Wright concurs: "each conversation with Wittgenstein was living through the day of judgement. It was terrible". Wittgenstein's dismissal of other philosophers was well-known. He once remarked to Leavis that G.E. Moore "shows how far a man go who has absolutely no intelligence whatever". Fania Pascal, a Ukranian Jewish emigrée who lived in Cambridge and taught Wittgenstein Russian, comments in her memoir that "Wittgenstein had a great capacity to wound" but "he could not possibly be aware of the harshness, amounting to cruelty, with which he hit out, never pulling his punches. Nor would he know the fear he inspired in people". Wittgenstein's influence on his students' lives went beyond that of the usual committed teacher. He himself had doubts about the value of the academic life and conveyed these his students, often persuading them to give up their studies to do something he saw as more worthwhile. Francis Skinner, a shy, intense young man who according to Pascal was "the constant companion of Wittgenstein throughout most of the 1930s", was a brilliant mathematician. Wittgenstein persuaded Skinner to give up mathematics and become an apprentice in a scientific instruments company. Skinner "would never be happy in academic life" Wittgenstein told Pascal; she, on the other hand, wondered whether Wittgenstein had the right to interfere in the lives of his friends and students to such an extent. And yet despite his overbearing and judgmental personality, Wittgenstein inspired love, loyalty and devotion among his students and friends, philosophers and non-philosophers alike. What, if anything, do these portraits tell us about Wittgenstein's philosophy itself? It is normal in academic philosophy to separate sharply a philosopher's life from their work. Where the lives of philosophers are thought to be philosophically relevant, this is usually because there is thought to be some connection between one part of their worldview and another. So, to take a striking 20th century example: the worry about Heidegger's Nazism arises because his philosophy is thought to appeal to ideas like Volk (for example) which resonate with the Nazi ideology. By contrast, the anti-Semitic remarks in Frege's personal correspondence are not relevant to understanding his ideas about logic and truth, since (unwholesome as they may be) they have no real connection with these ideas. The situation with Wittgenstein is different. Here the question that fascinates people is not that of the relationship between his different views on various subjects - philosophical and non-philosophical - but the relationship between his philosophy and his life itself. In 2001 a volume of scholarly essays was published by Cambridge University Press on the very question of the relationship between philosophy and biography, with special reference to Wittgenstein. One theme which was explored in depth in Ray Monk's classic 1991 biography is how naturally Wittgenstein falls into the category of "genius", how he aspired to this category himself, and how this influenced his philosophical development. Ramsey wrote in 1929 that "Mr Wittgenstein is a philosophic genius of a different order from any one else I know"; and according to Leavis, Wittgenstein's arrogance was "a manifestation of the essential quality of genius". This palpable impression of genius may go some way to explain how Wittgenstein's charisma shaped the responses of those who knew him. The philosopher J.N. Findlay commented that "the personal impact of Wittgenstein is indispensable to the understanding of his influence... his personality, like his writing, made an immense aesthetic impact, so great indeed that one was tempted to confuse beauty with clarity and strangely luminous expression with perspicuous truth". But it seems to me that there is another, deeper way in which Wittgenstein's life connects with his philosophy, which has to do with the way he himself dramatised his own personal struggle with philosophy in his later writings. The Philosophical Investigations is written in a personal, at times almost confessional, mode. A lot of it has the form of a dialogue with an imaginary interlocutor (not entirely unlike the Martian in Jarman's film). Wittgenstein talks about what his own aim is in philosophy and presents himself as almost emotionally engaged with the problems he is discussing. "The real discovery" he writes "is the one that makes me capable of stopping doing philosophy when I want to. The one which brings philosophy peace, so that it is no longer tormented by questions which bring itself into question". The proper way to deal with such "torment" is to undergo a kind of therapy; and it is this therapeutic conception of philosophy which is sometimes seen as one of Wittgenstein's principal intellectual legacies. Philosophy is not a straightforwardly intellectual endeavour in pursuit of the truth, but a struggle with the confusions that our language and thinking throw up. It is comparable to the treatment of an intellectual "disease"; or, in one of Wittgenstein's famous phrases, philosophy is a battle against the "bewitchment of our intelligence by means of language". It is here, I think, where the connection between Wittgenstein's life and his philosophy comes in. The metaphors of disease, therapy and bewitchment - and indeed his whole life itself - testify to a conception of philosophy as a struggle which should occupy your whole being. Wittgenstein lay awake at night, he reported to Russell, worrying about logic and his "sins". The combination of the moral and philosophical struggle was expressed in a letter to his friend Paul Englemann as early as 1917: "I am working reasonably hard and I wish I were a better man and had a better mind. These two things are really one and the same. - God help me". On Wittgenstein's conception of how to philosophise, philosophy is something that at once seduces and repels, and the only real achievement in philosophy is to show how you no longer need it. There is, of course, an alternative way of looking at things. On this alternative, philosophy is a systematic intellectual discipline; an impartial, dispassionate attempt to answer certain abstract questions which have arisen in the history of human thought in various forms, provoked by various kinds of speculation. Looked at like this, to ask whether time flows (for example) is not to suffer from any kind of intellectual disease which is in need of therapy; it is not to have your intelligence bewitched by language; it is not to misunderstand what Wittgenstein called the "grammar" of the word time. Rather, it is to grapple with questions that are at once simple to grasp - what is it for some things to be in the past, and some in the future? - and also of great complexity - how our actual temporal experience of the world is related to the picture of time and space that we have acquired from physics. And of course the nature of philosophy is itself a philosophical question too; but this is because philosophy aims to be a foundational discipline, and the foundations of philosophy are as much in question as the foundations of other forms of knowledge. That is, after all, what it means to be a foundational discipline. Wittgenstein's tendency to see philosophy as a personal struggle, as his individual battle against the bewitchment of his intelligence, is surely what accounts for his utterly unhistorical approach to the subject. Wittgenstein himself would tell people - even with something that seemed like pride - how few of the great philosophers of the past he had read. "Wittgenstein assured me (laughing) that no assistant lecturer in philosophy in the country had read fewer books on philosophy than he had" writes his student Karl Britton, "he said he had never read a single word of Aristotle... he could not sit down and read Hume - he knew far too much about the subject of Hume's writings to find this anything but a torture". Few philosophers of the past are discussed in the Philosophical Investigations, and when they are mentioned it is usually as an example of some general tendency of human thought towards error, stripped of any historical context, or as an instance of one of Wittgenstein's former views. This tendency has been reinforced by some of his followers: philosophical problems are frequently declared to be the result of intellectual confusions, but sometimes these supposed confusions are so banal that it is quite incredible that any serious thinker could be taken in by them. What is so obviously missing from Wittgenstein's later philosophy, then, is any kind of historical conception of the problems of philosophy. Yet surely some such conception is needed. It may be that some philosophical problems arise because of linguistic or conceptual confusions entrenched by the way we speak, and maybe some arise because we are psychologically locked into a certain way of looking at the phenomena (in Witgenstein's famous phrase, "a picture held us captive"). But most problems have actually arisen as a result of specific historical circumstances and contingencies - for example, because of the need to defend or articulate religious ideas, or from challenges from science, or as a result of the speculations of other philosophers of the past, or because of paradoxes or conflicts in ordinary thinking about the world. Getting to grips with a philosophical question is partly a matter of understanding where the problem comes from - but this requires us to think, to some extent, about the historical construction of the problem, and to take seriously the deeply contingent nature of the philosophical tradition in which we find ourselves. There are many insights in the later work of Wittgenstein, but the fundamentally Romantic conception of philosophy at its heart - that of a personal struggle, demanding a kind of therapy against the perversion of the intellect by language - ignores by its very nature the historical conditions which bring philosophy into being. It is also not one which fits well with the way philosophy has developed as a largely academic endeavour in Europe since the 19th century, as Wittgenstein himself seemed to appreciate. These days being a philosopher is essentially connected with teaching students as part of a broadly humanistic education, and to explain philosophical problems to students it is necessary to give them some understanding of where these problems come from. Thinking of philosophy as a struggle is pedagogically problematic, to put it mildly. This difficulty already manifested itself in the behaviour of Wittgenstein's own students. The Cambridge logician W.E. Johnson reported plaintively to Leavis: "Here are these young men... they go to Wittgenstein's lectures in their first week; and at the end of their three or four years they go down, and never know that some other people have done work in that field: there's Venn, there's Keynes, there is even my own work". More than sixty years after his death, Wittgenstein's compelling literary style, his commanding personality and his extraordinary life still lead some philosophers into an uncritical attitude towards his work and his conception of philosophy. To separate the fascination of his life and character - so richly documented here in this fine volume - from the conception of philosophy it embodies must be the first step towards a proper evaluation of his philosophical achievement.