Skip to main content

In (anti-reductive) praise of dogs

When we praise them for doing something, we regard them as having a desire that, thanks to their training and initiative, "rightly" guides their actions.

This sort of praise is not entirely unlike that which we reserve for humans: is that because we anthropomorphize our pets? Or is it because we recognize animal desire as having its own excellence? Or does the reason lie somewhere between those two: i.e., because domesticated animals actually do participate somewhat in our own distinctively human modus vivendi?

No matter what the answer to this question is, it is clear that we regard these and other animals as motivated by desire.  And there is something anti-reductive about this sort of regard.

I propose that it might be better to attack reductionism by pointing to this sort of desire rather than by talking as if humans were exceptions to what is found elsewhere in the natural world.  For the latter approach can easily sound (or it may actually be) dualistic.  Talk of doggie-desire therefore better illuminates the way to an alternative to both reductionism and to dualism.

Then again, the die-hard reductionist might dismiss this third way as an unwitting use of a dualistic folk psychology.  But this dismissal may be more evidence of a quasi-religious commitment to materialism than critical thinking.

To goal of doggie talk is to show that there is a third way that is neither reductionist nor dualist.  Put otherwise, both materialists and dualists may be barking up the wrong tree.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Dembski's "specified compexity" semiotics and teleology (both ad intra and ad extra)

Integral to Dembski's idea of specified complexity (SC) is the notion that something extrinsic to evolution is the source of the specification in how it develops. He compares SC to the message sent by space aliens in the movie "Contact." In that movie, earthbound scientists determine that radio waves originating in from somewhere in our galaxy are actually a signal being sent by space aliens. The scientists determine that these waves are a signal is the fact that they indicate prime numbers in a way that a random occurrence would not. What is interesting to me is the fact that Dembski relies upon an analogy with a sign rather than a machine. Like a machine, signs are produced by an intelligent being for the sake of something beyond themselves. Machines, if you will, have a meaning. Signs, if you will, produce knowledge. But the meaning/knowledge is in both cases something other than the machine/sign itself. Both signs and machines are purposeful or teleological

continuing the discussion with Tim in a new post

Hi Tim, I am posting my reply here, because the great blogmeister won't let me put it all in a comment. Me thinks I get your point: is it that we can name and chimps can't, so therefore we are of greater value than chimps? Naming is something above and beyond what a chimp can do, right? In other words, you are illustrating the point I am making (if I catch your drift). My argument is only a sketch, but I think adding the ability to name names, as it were, is still not enough to make the argument seem cogent. For one can still ask why we prefer being able to name over other skills had by animals but not by humans. The objector would demand a more convincing reason. The answer I have in mind is, to put it briefly, that there is something infinite about human beings in comparison with the subhuman. That "something" has to do with our ability to think of the meaning of the cosmos. Whereas one might say"He's got the whole world in His han

particular/universal event/rule

While listening to a recorded lecture on Quine's Two Dogmas of Empiricism, it occurred to me that every rule is in a way, a fact about the world. Think about baseball: from the p.o.v. of an individual player, a baseball rule is not a thing but a guide for acting and interpreting the actions of others.  But this rule, like the action it guides, is part of a concrete individual --i.e., part of an institution that has come into existence at a particular place and time, has endured and  may eventually go out of existence.  The baseball rule, as a feature of that individual, is likewise individual.  The term "baseball rule," on the one hand, links us to a unique cultural event; it can, on the other hand, name a certain type of being.  In this way, it transgresses the boundary between proper and common noun. If there were no such overlap, then we might be tempted to divide our ontology between a bunch of facts "out there" and a bunch of common nouns "in here.&qu