Catherine Elgin

This chapter develops a critique of a pair of widely accepted epistemic principles: epistemic individualism, the states of an individual epistemic agent are that which constitute the agent’s ’epistemic core’, and attunement, the core deliverances that justify an agent’s beliefs do so because they properly attune the agent to their objects. It develops a critique using Orwell’s 1984. It argues that the plight of the novel’s protagonist, Winston, reveals problems for each of the theses and that the support of a non-coercive community is necessary for having beliefs at all, let alone having the kind of beliefs that could amount to knowledge. It then (i) explains the relationship between the Orwellian thought experiment and concrete cases of epistemic injustice, and (ii) proposes a Kantian solution to the problems that the experiment raises-namely, that epistemic agents ought to regard themselves as legislators in a commonwealth of epistemic ends.

In Hard Truths, Elijah Millgram maintains that analytic philosophy rests on a mistake. 1 It is committed to bivalence – the contention that every truth bearer is either true or false. As a result of this commitment, its views about logic and metaphysics are profoundly misguided. He believes that rather than restricting ourselves to two truth values, we should recognize a plethora of partial truths – sentences, beliefs and opinions that are partly true or true in a way. These are located on a multidimensional continuum between truth and falsity. Millgram never says exactly what partial truth is. The closest he comes is ‘Partial truth is the not fully articulated standard, or family of standards to which we hold [utterances, inscriptions and thoughts] in partial truth inferences’ , where partial truth inferences are those used in cases where ‘there is a recognized mismatch between representation and world – but not in any way that requires changing the representations’ . A critical issue then is what constitutes such a mismatch. I will argue that Millgram’s reasons for recognizing partial truths rest on untenable conceptions of logic, truth and language. Perhaps there are partial truths; perhaps recognizing them would enhance our logic or metaphysics. But Millgram’s arguments fail to show it. 1. Logic Recognizing that there can be some truth in sentences that as a whole are false is not unprecedented. Analyses by Ullian and Goodman 2 and, more recently, Yablo 3 reveal how a false sentence or proposition can be true about a particular item. ‘The dog barks and the cat speaks French’ is true about the dog, even though the conjunction as a whole is false. This does not undermine classical logic. Rather, such analyses reveal that truth about a particular subject matter is more fine grained than truth simpliciter. ‘True …

The Structure of Appearance presents a phenomenalist system, constructing enduring visible objects out of qualia. Nevertheless Goodman does not espouse phenomenalism. This is not because he considers his system inadequate. Although details remain to be filled in, he considers his system viable. And he believes his constructional methods could readily yield extensions to other sensory realms. Why isn’t Goodman a phenomenalist? This paper suggests an answer that illuminates Goodman’s views about the nature and functions of constructional systems, the prospects of reductionism, and the character of epistemology. These non-standard views present attractive alternatives to currently popular positions.

Teaching is not testimony. Although both convey information, they have different uptake requirements. Testimony aims to impart information and typically succeeds if the recipient believes that informationon account of having been told by a reliable informant. Teaching aims to equip learners to go beyond the information given—to leverage that information to broaden, deepen, and critique their current understanding of a topic. Teaching fails if the recipients believe the information only because it is what they have been told.

Recent philosophical discussions construe disagreement as epistemically unsettling. On learning that a peer disagrees, it is said, you should suspend judgment, lower your credence, or dismiss your peer’s conviction as somehow flawed, even if you can neither identify the flaw nor explain why you think she is the party in error. Philosophers do none of these things. A distinctive feature of philosophy as currently practiced is that, although we marshal the strongest arguments we can devise, we do not expect others to agree. Nor are we dismayed then they do not. Through a survey of familiar professional practices, I argue that philosophy rightly revels in responsible disagreement. This discloses important and perhaps surprising facets of the epistemology of philosophy.

Human beings are epistemically interdependent. Much of what we know and much of what we need to know we glean from others. Being a gregarious bunch, we are prone to venturing opinions whether they are warranted or not. This makes information transfer a tricky business. What we want from others is not just information, but reliable information. When we seek information, we are in the position of enquirers not examiners. We ask someone whether p because we do not ourselves already know whether p. So we cannot check our informant’s bona fides by seeing whether she is speaking the truth about p. We need grounds for trust. In What’s the Point of Knowledge? Michael Hannon maintains that this is the predicament that underlies the concept of knowledge. The we here is comprehensive. Evidently, every language has a word for knowledge. This, Hannon suggests, indicates that the concept of knowledge satisfies a universal human need. A goal, if not the goal, of epistemology is to identify that need and ascertain how it is satisfied. Following Craig, Hannon argues that the point of knowledge is to enable us to identify good – that is, suitably reliable – informants. Let us call this the information transfer view.

Philosophy long sought to set knowledge on a firm foundation, through derivation of indubitable truths by infallible rules. For want of such truths and rules, the enterprise foundered. Nevertheless, foundationalism's heirs continue their forbears' quest, seeking security against epistemic misfortune, while their detractors typically espouse unbridled coherentism or facile relativism. Maintaining that neither stance is tenable, Catherine Elgin devises a via media between the absolute and the arbitrary, reconceiving the nature, goals, and methods of epistemology. In Considered Judgment, she argues for a reconception that takes reflective equilibrium as the standard of rational acceptability. A system of thought is in reflective equilibrium when its components are reasonable in light of one another, and the account they comprise is reasonable in light of our antecedent convictions about the subject it concerns. Many epistemologists now concede that certainty is a chimerical goal. But they continue to accept the traditional conception of epistemology's problematic. Elgin suggests that in abandoning the quest for certainty we gain opportunities for a broader epistemological purview--one that comprehends the arts and does justice to the sciences. She contends that metaphor, fiction, emotion, and exemplification often advance understanding in science as well as in art. The range of epistemology is broader and more variegated than is usually recognized. Tenable systems of thought are neither absolute nor arbitrary. Although they afford no guarantees, they are good in the way of belief.