Friday, November 14, 2014

Taking the road not taken


Paul Manata has commented on a post of mine:


Before addressing the specifics, I'd like to make some general observations:

i) When I say that on the face of it, this position dissolves the dilemma between freedom and determinism, I'm not suggesting that it splits the difference between Calvinism and freewill theism. It's not like Molinism in that regard. It's not a via media which gives both sides some or most of what they want. 

For the view I'm discussing is thoroughly predestinarian. It doesn't concede anything to freewill theism. The human agent doesn't access alternate possibilities–like ordering items from a catalogue. He never acts independently of God. Each alternate course of action is predestined (absolute, universal predestination). Rather, he finds himself in different scenarios. 

ii) I'm not saying there is a multiverse (in this sense–or any sense). I'm discussing how, as a matter of principle, this dissolves the dilemma. 

iii) One problem with Manata's analysis is that it depends on his notion of "identity." But that's ambiguous. That goes to ancient and perennial debates over personal identity. Of course, there's nothing wrong with raising the issue. 

Is there such a thing as personal identity? The problem is generated by the fact of change. If I undergo change, then I am the same individual? If I undergo change, then I'm not the same in every respect. In that event, identity is qualified. "Identity" which allows for difference. Mind you, there are austere philosophical traditions which deny that change is compatible with strict identity.

iv) This becomes a question of philosophical method. It depends on your starting-point. To borrow a distinction from Chisholm:

We can formulate some of the philosophical issues that are involved here by distinguishing two pairs of questions. These are:
A) “What do we know? What is the extent of our knowledge?”
B) “How are we to decide whether we know? What are the criteria of
knowledge?” 
There are people—philosophers—who think that they do have an answer to B and that, given their answer to B, they can then figure out their answer to A. And there are other people—other philosophers—who have it the other way around: they think that they have an answer to A and that, given their answer to A, they can then figure out the answer to B. 
I suggest, for the moment, we use the expressions “methodists” and “particularists.” By “methodists,” I mean...those who think they have an answer to B, and who then, in terms of it, work out their answer to A. By “particularists” I mean those who have it the other way around. 
http://www.oswego.edu/~dhoracek/220/Chisholm-criterion.pdf

Seems to me that Manata oscillates between methodism and particularism. On the one hand, he accepts the commonsense view that personal identity is real–despite the philosophical conundra. In that respect he's a particularist.

Yet in critiquing my post, he operates like a methodist, by demanding a rigorous notion of personal identity. Which should we begin with? Should we begin with the fact of personal identity, including diachronic identity and counterfactual identity? Should we take that as a given? Or must we begin by establishing the necessary and sufficient conditions of personal identity before we are justified in granting that status to specific candidates? 

iv) Not only must personal identity be tweaked to allow for diachronic identity, but counterfactual identity as well. That demands a distinction between intrinsic and extrinsic properties. It's inadequate to frame the discussion in terms of x = y or x ≠ y. 

When we grant diachronic identity or counterfactual identity, it seems to me that we are forced to say, not simply that x is the same as y, but that x is the same as y with respect to z. Both x and y are identical in that respect, which–however–makes room for differences between x and y. They are the same by virtue of something "essential" they share in common. Yet we couldn't differentiate them at all if they were identical without remainder. 

As I recall, Hector-Neri Castañeda defined identity both in terms of individuation and differentiation. Personal identity is whatever makes you a unique individual and distinguishes you from other unique individuals. And that's God's complete concept. 

v) Criteria for personal identity also depend on how rich or impoverished your ontology is. If you're a physicalist, then you must try to ground personal identity in something concrete. 

Let's take a comparison. Suppose you ask, why does Reims cathedral have flying buttresses? There are different ways of answering the question, all of which are correct–but some go deeper than others. 

a) It has flying buttresses because it's a Gothic cathedral. By definition, Gothic cathedrals have flying buttresses. 

b) It has flying buttresses to offset the lateral pressure exerted by the Gothic arch. A Gothic arch transfers weight outward as well as downward. Absent that external counterforce, the lateral pressure would cause the walls to buckle. That's a functional answer. An engineering explanation.

c) It has flying buttresses because it was built according to a blueprint, and the blueprint had flying buttresses. In a sense, they were caused by the blueprint. If they hadn't been in the blueprint, they wouldn't be built. 

d) It has flying buttresses because the architect chose to design a Gothic cathedral rather than a Romanesque cathedral or Byzantine basilica. It began in the mind of the architect. That's the ultimate cause or explanation.   

Now for Manata:

Steve says, this “position dissolves the perennial dilemma between determinism and freedom of choice” because…
That's an overstatement. The quote starts too far into the statement, which began with a caveat: What I said was:
On the face of it, his position dissolves the perennial dilemma between determinism and freedom of choice.
I didn't state for a fact that this resolves the dilemma. Rather, I cast that in prima facie terms. And I expressed reservations about Page's particular model. 
The first problem is that, as Steve puts things, it places too much weight on alternative possibilities (APs) as securing freedom. A whole lot more will need to be said to secure free will (or free choice). For starters, there’s sourcehood questions. There’s epistemic and control questions.
Is Manata discussing freedom, per se, or moral responsibility? 
The point is ambiguous. Is it that determinism could be true at two worlds, W1 and W2, and I do otherwise in W1 than I do in W2? Or is it that determinism is true at W1 and W2, and W1 and W2 share the same determining conditions, and I do otherwise in W1 than I do in W2?
God determines one course of action in W1 and an alternate course of action in W2. 
It's not that I'm free to do otherwise in a given world, but that I do otherwise by the existence of parallel worlds which exemplify alternate courses of action. It's not that the future is open in a given world. Rather, different parallel worlds exemplify the roads not taken (in this world,  using this world as a relative frame of reference). 
Suppose for the moment that our set of reasons at a given time determines our actions.
I think that's plausible so far as it goes. But what lies in back of that is the set of reasons God scripted for our actions. God determines the reasons, which–in turn–determine our actions.  
...to make recourse to the ontologically costly many-worlds hypothesis.
i) "Ontologically costly" for whom? It doesn't cost anything extra for an omnipotent God. 
ii) On the face of it, there are many worthwhile scenarios which can't be exemplified in the same timeline. That would be incoherent. A single (actual) world cannot capture all possible goods, for not all possibilities are compossible at the same time and place. Hence, there would be value in having a multiverse in which more than one worthwhile scenario actually plays out. 
So if this is what Steve means, I agree that there’s no problem with doing otherwise in worlds where determinism is true of both.
Agreed. 
Since there are many ways to determine something (see James Anderson here, for example), let me just use C for whatever set of “prior” (logical, temporal, timeless decrees of God, doesn’t matter for now) conditions are the determining conditions. Now, to see if we can do otherwise in W1 and W2, we hold C fixed for each of W1 and W2. Perhaps C should be understood according to the thesis of causal determinism. By definition, then, given the laws L and a proposition p specifying the way things are at time t, where t is a time in the “remote past,” all future events e (such that e > t) are entailed by L & p. On this view, if W and W1 share the same laws and proposition about the remote past, they share all events. So how do I do otherwise on this view?
i) I take Manata to mean that if causal, nomological, and/or physical determinism is true, then the past determines the future. Hence, I can't do otherwise given the same antecedent conditions. Conversely, if I can to otherwise, that's because the past is relevantly different. I'm not doing otherwise in the same situation, but otherwise in a different situation. 
ii) I think that's probably true if concrete existence is all there is. If, however, there's an abstract/concrete relation, then that's not necessarily the case–although that depends on how we define "abstract" and relate it to concrete agents and events. 
Suppose the Creator is like a novelist or screenwriter. The real world exemplifies the plot. Characters do whatever the plot has them do. The screenwriter makes a character do something different, not necessarily by making a plot change in events leading up to a different course of action, but by simply determining how the character will react to prior events. 
When the screenplay is instantiated in time and space, there will be intramundane causes and effects, but in a more ultimate sense, that, itself, is an effect of the abstract plot. A way to implement the plot.  
Or, perhaps one might think that theological determinism is true. How might we understand that notion? Again, we might cite James Anderson. Theological determinism = for every event E, God determines that E will take place and the decree of God is the ultimate sufficient cause of E. So, God’s decree will equal C here. To do otherwise in the (iib) sense, Steve would need to say that W1 and W1 [W2?] both share C. That is, both W1 and W2 have the same decree. I cannot understand how any thoroughgoing theological determinist (which Steve is!) could say that I could do otherwise given the same decree (and I don’t think that Steve thinks this either). But then, these different worlds would need to have different decrees for each. But then, there’s no problem with doing otherwise that arises such that we need many-worlds to account for it.
It depends on what Manata means by needing a multiverse to account for doing otherwise. A multiverse is unnecessary to account for God's ability to decree that I do otherwise. 
i) The point of a predestinarian multiverse is that if a freewill theist says divine determinism is incompatible with doing otherwise, one can counter that not only is it not incompatible with doing otherwise, but for all we know, we are doing otherwise. Not just the freedom to do otherwise, not just the unrealized potential, but the actuality. You get to do otherwise! 
And even if God hasn't created a multiverse, so long as he can, that cuts the ground out from the libertarian objection. 
ii) That's if the freewill theist defines libertarian freedom in terms of the ability to do otherwise. Choosing alternate courses of action.  
I could continue to run iterations of Cs, but I think the point has been made. If you maintain that W1 and W2 can, say, share all the same causally relevant facts (up to the moment of choice), yet I do otherwise in W1 than I do in W2, you just don’t have determinism
In principle, it could be an Alice in Wonderland world in which the past doesn't determine the future. What determines the future is whatever Lewis Carroll thought about making the characters do. What happens in Alice in Wonderland isn't based on natural laws or physical determinism. Yet the action is strictly determined. Determined by the author. Admittedly, that's a limiting case.
It seems obvious that I am identical to myself. That is, I am one and the same thing as me. Who else could I be? So, there exists an x such that x = me. Now, let y = my counterpart, the one who does other than I do in the actual world, @. (Here I use ‘counterpart’ neutrally, as Steve wants to. It’s more like a name for the “me” who does otherwise than me. I leave it open right now whether I am numerically identical to my counterpart.) Here’s what we want to know, does y = x? 
This isn’t the ultimate question since God has a concept of me. Thus, I am not the concept. That is, if c = God’s concept of me, c ≠ x. The question is, does x = y.
i) At the level of a mere possible person, I am God's concept of me. It's a constitutive idea–the way a fictional character just is whatever the novelist conceived him to be. 
ii) If, moreover, God intends to create that person, then God's complete concept will include the idea of making him a real person, in time and space. His actual existence will correspond to his abstract existence. 
Steve says, “I’d say those are two different instances of one and the same exemplary idea. The exemplar is God’s idea of an individual.” As far as I can understand this, God has an exemplary idea of me. Me, the x sitting here on my couch typing this, is “an instantiation” of this exemplary idea. The very thing sitting here on the couch typing this = our x. That is, the very thing sitting on the couch typing this is the very same thing as the thing sitting here on the couch typing this, obviously. Now, Steve says when “I” do otherwise in some other world, w, such that w ≠ @, the “I” there, my counterpart, is another instantiation of God’s exemplary idea of me. Is it? That is, since this counterpart is y, then our question is, does y = x? This is legitimate since both me and the counterpart exist, then I can, by existential generalization, conclude that an x and a y exist. Does x = y? In other words, does the x sitting here on the couch typing this in @ = the y that does otherwise in w? 
If x = y, then x does otherwise. If x ≠ y, then x doesn’t do otherwise (in virtue of y’s doing otherwise). If this can’t be answered, then I can’t understand how Steve makes good on the quote I opened with, viz., that it is I who does otherwise, i.e., the x that = me is the x that does otherwise than I do in @. To say that x and y are instantiations of the same exemplary idea doesn’t seem to answer the question. Is God’s exemplary idea of just one x or several ‘counterparts,’ y1…yn, such that y1…yn are grouped together by some suitable similarity criteria, but none of ys are identical to any other y other than the y who bears its same subscript?
God's exemplary idea of an individual is akin to a novelist's idea of a character. He can conceive of his character either boating down the Amazon river or going on an African safari. It's the same character, with different plotlines. 
So when Steve says that “an exact duplicate of me, sitting next to me, is me?,” is to be cashed out as “two different instances of one and the same exemplary idea,” he hasn’t, to my mind, answered the more ultimate question. Are instantiations of the same exemplary idea identical or not?
Identical in reference to what? Two different instances are not directly identical to each other. Rather, they are the same with respect to God's exemplary idea of the same individual–taking alternate courses of action. 
My final worry is this. Either we hold everything fixed (sans soft facts, say) up to the moment of choice or we don’t. If we don’t, we don’t need many-worlds to show we can do otherwise given the truth of determinism. If so, then there’s a huge luck objection lurking For in the world where I do otherwise than sitting here on the couch typing this, my upbringing should be the same, my psychology the same, my reasons for sitting here the same, my environment the same, the same economy, all the nature and nurture facts that have helped shape who I am need to be present. But, for all that, I do otherwise in w. Aren’t I irrational in w? If so, how am I free in w? Steve will need to make some relevant changes prior to my choosing to sit here and type this. 
I don't think the past determines the future. I think predestination determines the future (as well as the past). History is the exemplification of God's plot. God can hold everything fixed up to the moment of choice, but that, of itself, won't determine what comes next. For the plot is ultimately based on dramatic logic. What makes narrative sense. What's in character or out of character. What makes a good story, without plot holes. God doesn't have to change the past to change the future, anymore than a novelist has to rewrite earlier chapters to make a character do something different. God doesn't have to change the past to make the character eat Rice Crispies rather than Corn Flakes. 
But this raises other problems. As Steve argued in God and Corn Flakes, small, almost meaningless changes can (and probably do) result in very different worlds. 
Resulting in a different future, after the moment of choice.

5 comments:

  1. Interesting topic. I could be wrong - and not that it makes a difference to the coherence of this view - but I don't think many freewill theists are going to be enticed by a notion of freedom in which "the human agent doesn't access alternate possibilities." We would "have radical freedom of opportunity inasmuch as we do in fact act on all these alternate possibilities," but I think most freewill theists would say this is a less radical freedom of opportunity than the opportunity for one to himself access any alternate possibility in each case.

    It might just be a different type of opportunity, though, as you point out that the sort of freedom which we would have on this view is less about why it is possible for me to choose x or why I have the potential to choose x - e.g. desires cause or allow for one to choose x - and more about whether I actually choose and can therefore experience the effects of, in addition to x, any other hypothetical possibility conceivable to God.

    Of course, having this kind of "actual" freedom wouldn't necessarily be incompatible with some of the aforementioned "potential" kinds. In fact, inasmuch as any reference to freedom regarding an actual choice of x immediately implies the possibility or potential to choose x, it would have to be compatible with at least one. But I think the freewill/determinism dilemma more naturally refers to this ("potential") kind of freedom - i.e. why we can choose x in the first place.

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  2. I agree with you that freewill theists would regard this as an unsatisfactory model of libertarian freedom. However, it's like playing tennis with a southpaw. Because southpaws are in a distinct minority, left-handed tennis players are used to playing against right-handed opponents whereas right-handed tennis players are not used to playing against left-handed opponents. All other things being equal, that gives the southpaws an advantage.

    By the same token, freewill theists aren't used to having PAP co-opted by predestinarians, and thrown back at them. Moreover, this is, in a sense, giving them more than they bargained for. In freewill theism, we're forced to choose between one thing or another, even if we'd like to do both. That's a severe limitation on our freedom action. Yet this way we can sample the whole menu!

    But, of course, there's a catch. Each alternate timeline or alternate course of action is equally predestined.

    So it poses a dilemma for freewill theism. It may resolve one dilemma, but does so by making PAP too much of a good thing. Where does that leave them?

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  3. I have a response similar to what Ryan says. But it goes deeper. I maintain that not just libertarians will find this view insufficient but so would classical compatibilists. They already have an account of doing otherwise, one that doesn't make recourse to an ontogically extravagant position (I don't mean this point as pejorative but descriptive of needed entities postulated). Anyway, to see this spelled out we'll need to wait for when I have a finished draft. But I appreciate this chance to exchange with Steve about these things. I think he's the first person to respond to one of my blog posts at AT!

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  4. "God doesn't have to change the past to change the future, anymore than a novelist has to rewrite earlier chapters to make a character do something different. God doesn't have to change the past to make the character eat Rice Crispies rather than Corn Flakes."

    steve, could you interact with this statement and it's bearing on/relationship to past-answered prayer? Specifically I'm thinking of James Anderson's argument against Open Theism utilizing past-answered prayer as a concrete example of divine foreknowledge of yet-future prayer by answering said prayer temporally before it was uttered (hence past-answered as in the case of the anecdote of missionary woman who related a child's prayer for a hot water bottle and a doll in Africa which was answered in a precise way in an extremely short and providential timeframe).

    I'm not sure that I'm setting the question up properly. God doesn't have to change the past, but may He? Would we even be in a position to know since from our perspective the facts would have always been such and such? Maybe this is ad hoc since if God's decree is fixed, and if His will is immutable, and if He has all power and wisdom to bring His decree to pass, then He would have no need for mulligans, and therefore would have no need to resort to reordering past events in order to bring about some alternate current or future event since He from eternity has always worked all things according to the counsel of His holy will.

    If so, then returning to the question of past-answered prayer it would seem obvious that God didn't (and doesn't) act on prayer (or react to prayer), rather the prayer and the divine answer to prayer in whatever form it takes were already wrapped up in God's timeless, eternal, and immutable plan.

    Does this make sense, or am I rambling? It's early and I've not had my coffee yet. I guess I'm wondering about the possibility of prayer affecting the past, and the implications thereof.

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  5. Thanks. The links are along the contours of what I was thinking, but are much more coherent.

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