Daniel C. Dennett

(1942 - 2024)

Have Sober and Wilson salvaged a sophisticated and sound perspective for group selection from the rhetorical overkill of the selfish-gene’s-eye gang, or have they merely reinvented Hamilton’s and Maynard Smith’s alternative to group selection models, models that can do justice to all the observed and even imagined phenomena of cooperation in the biosphere? One of the main lessons I have learned in thinking about the issues raised by Unto Others over the last two years is that they are, at least for me, mind-twistingly elusive and slippery. The appeal of the competing metaphors is such that there is unwitting sleight of hand in every direction, as the perspectives shift back and forth. One stern admonition might then be: eschew the metaphors, stick to the math! The problem is that the math doesn’t distinguish between the perspectives Sober and Wilson champion and those they oppose. By their own account, the mathematical models are equivalent in what they can predict—and hence equivalent in what they can, in one important sense, explain. But that is not the end of it: “When one theory achieves an insight by virtue of its perspective, the same insight can usually be explained in retrospect by the other theories. As long as the relationships among the theories are clearly understood, this kind of pluralism is a healthy part of science.”. Good point. Patrick Suppes used to delight in challenging cognitive psychologists to point to any “cognitive” phenomenon that he couldn’t model, retrospectively, in strict behaviorist terms. The wise response was to deflect the challenge. His behaviorist models were parasitic: they would never have been devised—the phenomena in question were all but invisible to the behaviorists—without the inspiration of the cognitive model they translated into behaviorese. And what Sober and Wilson say here echoes what one of their chief opponents, Richard Dawkins, had already claimed for his perspective: “The extended phenotype may not constitute a testable hypothesis in itself, but it so far changes the way we see animals and plants that it may cause us to think of testable hypotheses that we would otherwise never have dreamed of.” So what’s all the fuss about? If each side is just saying “Here’s a good way of thinking of things, a prolific generator of hypotheses to test!” they could both be right, with their different perspectives having rather different utilities in different circumstances.

We offer two kinds of constructive criticism in the spirit of support for Doris's socially scaffolded pluralism regarding agency. First: The skeptical force of potential “goofy influences” is not as straightforward as Doris argues. Second: Doris's positive theory must address more goofy influences due to social processes that appear to fall under his criteria for agency-promoting practices. Finally, we highlight “arms race” phenomena in Doris's social dynamics that invite closer attention in further development of his theory.

The problem for Sellars here, as in many earlier papers, can be crudely but vividly summarized as follows: it seems that science has taught us that everything is some collection or other of atoms, and atoms are not colored. Hence nothing is colored; hence nothing is yellow. Shocking! Where did the yellow go? Sellars has for years been wondering where the yellow went, in a series of intricate, patient, metaphysically bold but argumentatively shrewd papers, and in his third Carus Lecture we can see the strands of doctrine woven into a single cable. Along the way Sellars explores a wide variety of imaginable ways of rejecting, revising, or adjusting the premises of the crudely expressed argument above. Might we deny that everything is some collection or other of atoms? Yes, in several different ways. Might we claim that a collection of colorless atoms could be colored? Yes, in several different ways. Sellars surveys the smorgasbord of views and eliminates all but one, which he advances tentatively, not surprisingly, since it is metaphysically extravagant: an “ontology of absolute processes” among which are absolute sensory processes, such as E-flattings and reddings, which are not analyzable at all into the aggregate doings of particulate objects.

Paul Churchland's book (hereafter ER)is an entertaining and instructive advertisement for a "neurocomputational" vision of how the brain (and mind) works. While we agree with its general thrust, and commend its lucid pedagogy on a host of difficult topics, we note that such pedagogy often exploits artificially heightened contrast, and sometimes the result is a misleading caricature instead of a helpful simplification. In particular, Churchland is eager to contrast the explanation of consciousness that can be accomplished by his "aspiring new structural and dynamic cognitive prototype: recurrent PDP networks" (p.266) with what strikes him as the retrograde introduction by Dennett of a virtual von Neumannesque machine--a "failed prototype"--as the key element in an explanation of human consciousness (in Consciousness Explained, 1991, hereafter, CE). We will try to show that by oversimplifying Dennett's alternative, he has taken a potential supplement to his own view--a much needed supplement--and transformed it in his imagination into a subversive threat. In part 1, we will expose and correct the mistaken contrasts. In part 2, we will compare the performance of the two views on Churchland's list of seven features of consciousness any theory must account for, showing that Dennett's account provides more than Churchland has recognized, and indeed offers answers to key questions that Churchland's account is powerless to address. At that point, Churchland's project and Dennett's could be seen to collaborate in a useful division of labor instead of being in mortal combat, were it not for what appears to be a fairly major disagreement about consciousness in non-human animals. Part 3 briefly examines this issue. It may be due to a misunderstanding, which when cleared up might restore the happy prospect of unification.

There could be no more gratifying response to a philosopher's work than such a bounty of challenging, high-quality essays. I have learned a great deal from them, and hope that other readers will be as delighted as I have been by the insights gathered here. One thing I have learned is just how much hard work I had left for others to do, by underestimating the degree of explicit formulation of theses and arguments that is actually required to bring these issues into optimal focus. These essays cover my work from top to bottom. Just about every nook and cranny is probed and tested in ways I could never do for myself. The essays thus highlight the areas of weakest exposition of my views; they also show the weak points of the views themselves--and suggest repairs, which I am sometimes happy to accept, but not always, since there are a few cases in which one critic deftly disarms another, sight unseen. I will be fascinated to learn how the individual authors react to each other's essays, since they side with me on different points, and disagree about what is still in need of revision or repair.

Descartes’s proof of the existence of God in the third ’Meditation’ can be interpreted as a version of the argument from design. He cannot point to the marvels of nature, since all he has after the second ’Meditation’ is his ideas, but his idea of God serves as the brilliantly designed entity that he claims he cannot have authored on his own. Several passages in his replies to commentators support this interpretation, and when one considers what Descartes believed he had deduced from this idea, it is understandable that he could consider it a wonderful idea.

One of the world’s leading philosophers offers aspiring thinkers his personal trove of mind-stretching thought experiments. Over a storied career, Daniel C. Dennett has engaged questions about science and the workings of the mind. His answers have combined rigorous argument with strong empirical grounding. And a lot of fun. Intuition Pumps and Other Tools for Thinking offers seventy-seven of Dennett’s most successful "imagination-extenders and focus-holders" meant to guide you through some of life’s most treacherous subject matter: evolution, meaning, mind, and free will. With patience and wit, Dennett deftly deploys his thinking tools to gain traction on these thorny issues while offering readers insight into how and why each tool was built. Alongside well-known favorites like Occam’s Razor and reductio ad absurdum lie thrilling descriptions of Dennett’s own creations: Trapped in the Robot Control Room, Beware of the Prime Mammal, and The Wandering Two-Bitser. Ranging across disciplines as diverse as psychology, biology, computer science, and physics, Dennett’s tools embrace in equal measure light-heartedness and accessibility as they welcome uninitiated and seasoned readers alike. As always, his goal remains to teach you how to "think reliably and even gracefully about really hard questions." A sweeping work of intellectual seriousness that’s also studded with impish delights, Intuition Pumps offers intrepid thinkers—in all walks of life—delicious opportunities to explore their pet ideas with new powers.