Nonhumans as Machines- Descartes

Descartes here is making a case for an immortal soul exclusive to humans. His argument is that nonhuman animals are unthinking machine-like things (so much so that they could be replaced with machines and everyone would be none the wiser) whereas we humans are unique due to our reason and souls. He says that other animals are only moved by passions or impulses, and that even when they are very good at imitating us or doing tricks for us, it is only out of fear or the desire for a treat, not thinking. He does not deny the existence of life or sensations in these lesser automatons, and even admits to their being better than us at some things, such as in physical strength or ability, but says that these do not support the existence of an immortal soul, and perhaps even strengthen his own argument. For Descartes, to be human is to use real speech, which he defines as “indicating by word or sign something relating to thought alone and not to natural impulse.”

Descartes lived and wrote in a time before robots, artificial intelligence, neuroscience and extensive animal behavior studies, and in working with what he had came up with good and sound ideas. He even seems to foreshadow the phenomenon of the “uncanny valley,” that feeling of unease at something very close to being human (as in, robot puppies are cute, but the robots in “I, Robot” kind of freak people out). However, without turning this into some research paper here, I’m not sure that what he says holds quite so true today. Some animals seem to show some inklings of intelligence or consciousness, even if quite removed from our own in terms of any sort of ranking system as Descartes points out. Sure, I guess that dolphins playing or having sex for fun can be attributed to nothing more than their urges, but then when you start to look into some experiments with great apes and even parrots, the idea that all nonhuman behavior is some conditioned response grows less convincing. Koko the gorilla learned to sign hundreds of words to express thoughts, even creating her own signs and communicating seemingly without hope of some immediate reward such as food. Alex the African Grey parrot is said to have shown the intelligence of a five year old human in terms of recognizing objects by identity, shape, color, and so forth; was beginning to learn phenomes; and created his own word combinations similarly to Koko. Whether these behaviors by these animals would warrant Descartes to say they indicate the presence of souls is debatable, and to what extent they express some consciousness is a point of a good bit of contention among scientists today. Consciousness is definitely weird, and you can’t blame someone, especially from a time such as Descartes’ (pre-Darwin and all), in thinking that it makes our species special. We are unique, but whether we are better is more than debatable. 

The New Organon

           Book I of The New Organon begins with Francis Bacon’s idea of human’s view of nature. He argues that humans cannot fully understand nature. While man has science, science alone does not allow us to comprehend every aspect of nature. As he says in page 33, all we humans can do is “bring natural bodies together and take them apart”, but that humans do not actually know what nature is doing. In the first aphorism, Bacon says that man “does and understands only as much as he has observed of the order of nature in fact or by inference; he does not know and cannot do more”. With this in mind, what is nature of interpretation? What can humans say about nature if we cannot be certain about anything?

           

            Bacon writes of two ways to investigate and discover truth; a way used currently, and a way that has never been used.  The current way of investigation, which Bacon does not agree with, involves jumping to a general axiom (something that applies to one particular thing) from a particular axiom (something that applies to a group). Bacon views this as humans using their knowledge to make assumptions about nature, and later filling in the “missing steps” (called “intermediate axioms” (36)) to make their assumption truth. What is the problem with this means of investigation?

Bacon proposes a new way of discovering truth, using the idea of moving gradually towards a claim instead of quickly making a general axiom. His argument is that one cannot assume something based solely on past events. Bacon suggests the proper way of investigation starts with making a particular axiom with general knowledge, and then slowly building on that information to make an “interpretation of nature”, gathered “piece by piece” (38).

Bacon’s work countered Aristole’s view of nature. Aristotle made many generalizations with what he observed: he assumed that a tree and a bed both have causes because they are made of the same material (the “out of which”). These types of connections led him to believe that everything in nature has an end, a specific form, and a first mover. Bacon did not agree with this, calling this type of reasoning an “anticipation of nature” (38), and claiming that such anticipations “are gathered from just a few instances, especially those common and familiar” (38), pointing out exactly how Aristotle drew his conclusions, from only a few similar characteristics. This raises the question: Whose view of nature is correct? Is either Bacon or Aristotle correct? Or can parts of their viewpoints be combined to formulate a different standpoint on human’s view of nature?

The Mastery of Nature

Bacon stresses the importance of having a firm grasp on Forms, the Latent Process, and the Latent Configuration. Bacon’s new methodology for understanding nature is based on “true and perfect rules of operation.” These rules provide direction allowing for our understanding of nature to be “certain, free, and disposing or leading to action.” How any one thing can be certain and free? By embracing the concept of Form “truth in speculation and freedom in operation” are obtainable. Bacon gives little guidance for how to go about understanding all that is Form, his use of meandering metaphors and whimsical language causes me consistent confusion. Bacon claims that “true form deduces nature,” yet this deduced nature is complicated by being interconnected to additional nature which coincide to form the natural order of things. For Bacon to broadly exclaim that the interconnectedness of Form results in natural order is preposterous. Bacon’s concept of understanding Form is to embrace the unity of nature, but is that not the same as understanding the natural order inherent in all Forms?

Bacon’s explanation of Latent Process if far more practical that the concept of Form. I think that Latent Process as described in the text is rational and applicable to understanding nature as a dynamic and interconnected entity. Bacon reasons that “every natural action depends on things indefinitely small.” This intricate interplay helps broaden the scope at which we as humans understand nature, allowing us to really examine nature. Bacon makes a stark remark by saying “nobody can hope to govern or change nature until he has duly comprehended and observed them.” This statement resonates with my understanding of human attempt to control the biosphere, and how we can’t stop nature because we don’t fully understand the intricacies of what had gone before and what will come after.

Latent Configuration is the “separation of bodies of universal form structure.” Bacon reasons that Latent Configuration is the act of using reason and true induction to discover what exists not due to separation by fire or chemicals, but due to the natural and exact interactions that create distinct entities. Bacon’s understanding of homogenous parts seems to be based very closely on what I think of as elements and the way they combine to form discrete units. Bacon makes a reasonable argument about basics of constructing bodies, but I don’t see how these building blocks will reveal the nature of the object. 

Aristotle's Physics II (Ch. 7-9)

Chapter 7 of Aristotle’s Physics Book II begins by reminding us of the four causes that Aristotle established in the first section of the reading, which are “the material, the form, the mover, and that for the sake of which” (64). Although he has already established that these four causes exist and that we must take all of them into account, he goes a step further in chapter seven by suggesting that in nature three out of the four are actually the same.  On page 64, Aristotle says that three of these causes “turn back into one,” noting that, “the what-it-is and that for the sake of which are one, and the whence the motion first is, is the same in form with these,” which would suggest that the formal, efficient, and final causes are the same.  On the next page, however, he says that the why can be traced back to “the material, and to the what-it-is [the form], and to the first mover.”  Where does this shift come from?  Why is the final cause on page 64 switched out for the material cause on page 65?

In Chapter 8, he then begins to discuss the “that for the sake of which.” Surprisingly enough, he describes the “that for the sake of which” in nature by first looking at art.  If art, which is always created for the sake of something, is an imitation of nature, then nature, too, must be for the sake of something.  This cause, he argues, is different from fortune or chance, neither of which he considers adequate causes. The “that for the sake of which” can be difficult to identify because in both art and nature, things often fail to reach their end. So if the “that for the sake of which” is not chance, nor fortune, nor necessarily where things always end up in reality, then what is it?

              

          In Chapter 9 Aristotle tries to help us clarify this a bit more by talking about the distinction between necessity and the “that for the sake of which.” He gives the example of a wall.  The stones used to build the wall are necessary to its construction, but they are not the reason the wall is built. The reason the wall is built is so that it can protect and enclose things.  Necessity is conditional, then, while the “that for the sake of which” is not.  The necessary in natural things is the material and its motions, but what does that make the end? In Chapter 7 Aristotle suggested that the final and the formal cause were the same, but can it really be that simple?  Is the end of a tree simply to be a tree, thereby causing it to take the form of a tree? Do things really seek simply to be, or to thrive and reproduce? If both natural and artificial things are capable of “missing the mark,” isn’t it dangerous to see something and simply assume that its form is its end?  What if it messed up and took the wrong form?  How can we tell?

Aristotle's Physics

In the first three chapters of the Physics, Aristotle offers us an account of nature and causation. Aristotle’s account of causation follows his account of nature, but it might be better for us to start with an explanation of what he means by causation Aristotle distinguishes between four kinds of causes:

•  Material: “that out of which something comes into being, still being present in it.” Bronze is the material cause of the statue; paper and ink are the material causes of a book; chlorofluorocarbons are a material cause of the deteriorated atmosphere.
• Formal: “the form or pattern” whose presence makes a thing what it is; the “gathering in speech of what-it-is-for-it-to-be.” Aristotle gives the example of the octave and the 2:1 ratio, but this concept is still rather confusing to me.
• Efficient: “whatever makes the changing thing change,” or that thing outside of the thing so changed which sets it into motion. A mother is the efficient cause of her children; a builder is the efficient cause of a dam.
• Final: “the end” for which a thing is changed or set into motion. A controlled Mississippi is the final cause of establishing a system of locks; saving the harbor was the final cause of the efforts to stop Heimay’s flow.

It is important to note that a single event has all of these causes; causes are “as many things as come between the mover of something” and its “end,” or effect.

          Aristotle gives, historically, our earliest distinction between the living and the made. Nature is made distinct from the works of human beings, although Aristotle notes that every thing has its own “nature,” or composition. The nature of a desk, therefore, is wood, while the nature of a tree is somewhat more complex, including growth. Nature (in the overarching sense) “is twofold, and is both form and material,” and an individual thing’s nature is determined by both (52). Furthermore, nature does not set things in motion haphazardly. Aristotle writes: “Nature is a certain source and cause of being moved and of coming to rest in that which it belongs primarily, in virtue of itself and not incidentally” (49). Paraphrased roughly, nature is the cause of motion and coming to rest in those things which are a part of it, in virtue of its own composition. To put nature in the terms of causes, Nature is the efficient, formal, and material cause of all things (save itself). This raises two curious questions: what is nature’s end, for which nature itself is set in motion?* And what is the cause of nature?

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*  It strikes me as an unanswerable question, even if the premise that nature has an end is true, but it might be worth asking anyway. Thomas Nagel (the philosopher mentioned in an earlier response to Ben’s post) proposes a teleological conception of the universe, in which mind and mental activity is an intentional development in the universe aimed towards some ultimate, complex end.

The Idea of Nature

Collingwood's introduction details the historical development of the philosophical view of nature from three different eras. He compares the views of the Greek and the Renaissance philosophers, and then explains how modern schools of thought discount many of their theories. He states that the modern view of nature abandons the theory that nature is mechanical. Machines need to be "finished" in order to properly function, so a common belief is that "there may be machines in nature, but nature cannot itself be a machine"(Collingwood 14). This caused me to question what are some specific entities in nature that function as a machine? Do these machines have a creator? When are these machines finished and can they function properly without being finished?
While reading this chapter I also began to question mankind's overall purpose in nature. Do we include ourselves in our definition of nature? Or do we simply use this term to define the organisms outside of the human race? Do we as individuals have specific functions that progress nature as a whole?

Heraclitus

Although the references to Heraclitus’ work were written thousands of years ago, his conception of nature is the same to those of modern ecology. On Friday we defined ecology as the “interactions of organisms in a shared environment” or a way of looking at the whole interconnected system, rather than just the individual parts of nature. In the context of that discussion, here are my reactions to the thoughts of Heraclitus.

194: When Heraclitus uses the word Logos, he is referring to a principle of order and knowledge. He believes that everything, and in this case nature, comes into being without the knowledge and understanding of humans. Everything is connected in a balanced system. In the context of a balanced ecosystem, many humans fail to realize what impact they are having on this balanced and connected system.

195: Although it is necessary for humans to view nature as a whole, or to acknowledge that it is a series of logical connections linking every entity to another, humans continue to live their lives as though they have a “private understanding” of what nature is and how they fit into nature.

196: If you take the time to observe nature and “listen” to it, you will realize that all things are connected and can be seen as one.

199: Nature is made so that everything has its place. We can think about the sea as a whole and then more specifically what makes up the sea and what is our place in the sea. For the fish the sea is pure because it provides life. However, for man the sea is “polluted” in a way that man cannot survive in the sea the way fish do. However, humans are still connected to the sea and still contribute to the sea as a whole.

201: The difficult things in life help us to appreciate the good things we have. Without suffering and pain we may not be able to appreciate fully a life of health and happiness.

207-209: Often times the obvious connection is not immediately apparent. If we must work hard to understand the connection between two things, we may be more likely to appreciate that connection. Things that come easily to us are not always appreciated to the same degree as when we must work harder to achieve that thing. If Heraclitus was known for having such convoluted teachings, maybe his goal was to force the reader to work hard to understand them so then perhaps they appreciate his teachings more. Similarly, some of the most important processes such as global warming are not obvious to the human understanding, yet may prove to be more important and vital to life than those connections that are more immediately obvious. Often times what we think of as nature is only touching the surface of what nature actually is and the rest of it is hidden from our understanding.

214: There is an ever-present change in the universe forbidding anything to remain the same. A river will still be a river the next day, but it will have changed and will have been impacted by everything else in nature. Since everything in nature is connected, what leaves the river becomes something else just as other elements are constantly added creating a new river.

Whether or not Heraclitus was referring to nature and ecosystems, his concepts are applicable to our studies today. He supports the notion that everything in nature is interconnected and so nature as a whole must be understood before its individual parts can be known.