Sherrilyn Roush

Sherrilyn Roush defends a new theory of knowledge and evidence, based on the idea of "tracking" the truth, as the best approach to a wide range of questions about knowledge-related phenomena. The theory explains, for example, why scepticism is frustrating, why knowledge is power, and why better evidence makes you more likely to have knowledge. Tracking Truth provides a unification of the concepts of knowledge and evidence, and argues against traditional epistemological realist and anti-realist positions about scientific theories and for a piecemeal approach based on a criterion of evidence, a position Roush calls "real anti-realism." Epistemologists and philosophers of science will recognize this as a significant original contribution

In Tracking Truth I undertook a broader project than is typical today toward questions about knowledge, evidence, and scientific realism. The range of knowledge phenomena is much wider than the kind of homely examples—such as ‘‘She has a bee in her bonnet’’—that are often the fare in discussions of knowledge. Scientists have knowledge gained in sophisticated and deliberate ways, and non-human animals have reflexive and rudimentary epistemic achievements that we can easily slip into calling ‘‘knowledge.’’ What is it about knowledge that makes it natural for us to use the same word in cases that are so vastly different? How is it possible for knowledge to have evolved? What is it about knowledge that it should enhance our power over nature, as Francis Bacon observed? What is it about evidence and knowledge that makes you more likely to have the latter when you have the former? Specialization is necessary to progress, but the division of labor it requires has allowed such questions to fall through the gaps between discussions. These gaps are opportunities. Sometimes newly discovered problems can bring new and better answers even to old questions. The questions I have asked above are ‘‘Why?’’ questions expressed as (apparently) Socratic ‘‘What is?’’ questions, and that is the approach taken in the first five chapters of this book, to offer explanations of familiar phenomena on the basis of rigorous definitions of knowledge and evidence. One might object that this is an old, not a new, style of answer, and one that I ought to be educated enough to reject. Many have thought the project of giving necessary and sufficient conditions for knowledge was in its death rattle long ago. The most common argument for this conclusion is an empirical one, that no such attempt has ever been successful in giving the right answer for all examples. And when one asks, as one must, what the ‘‘right’’ answer would be answering to anyway, the project can look even more depressing. But even if there is a clear....

Relatively few philosophers of science today could do all of what Nicholas Maxwell does without hesitating: treat theoretical physics as indicative of all science because it is deemed fundamental, observe and expect science to exhibit a cumulative history of more and more unified knowledge, claim to solve the problem of induction, and insist that philosophy, particularly metaphysics, is crucially relevant to ongoing progress in science. Maxwell is distinctly out of fashion—this is no dappled world—but in hewing to a line he has been developing for decades he presents several intriguing and intertwined proposals for understanding and continuing the progress of physics over the last three and a half centuries toward a single, true, theory of everything.

Reply to Goldman I would like to thank Alvin for a spirited, and gentlemanly, debate we’ve had on these issues, which is extended further here. Alvin is exactly right that if we make his assumption about maximum specificity and deduceability (which I have doubts about), then on my view of knowledge Sphere Guy doesn’t know there’s a sphere in front of him. This may sound silly when we focus on his tactile access to the sphere in the actual world, but if we take a broader view we see that there is more at stake than this. Contrary to Alvin’s impression, methods are not at all excised from my view of knowledge. My theory of how to judge whether someone knows requires us to consider everything (probable) that is and would be responsible for the fact that the person believes or not, whether these occur in his head or in the world, which the formulation in terms of probability helps to make very clear. (See Chapter 3.) Ironically, my refusal to relativize to method has us taking into consideration more facts about the subject’s method than Alvin’s criteria do, for my view takes into account, as appropriate, what process the person would have used and has a tendency to use, and not just the properties of the one he happened in fact to use. When the fact that a method was used by a subject in coming to belief in p is independent of the truth of p, which is actually most of the time in our lives, the conditions of application of the variation condition insure that we evaluate the subject by considering only what he would do and how he would fare in his beliefs were he to use that method he actually used. So, under that condition, my view agrees with Alvin, and Nozick also. But when whether a subject used that method is not independent of the truth value of p, then the variation condition in my view says we must consider in addition the subject’s resulting beliefs in all probable scenarios where he is such that he might well..

Over the centuries since the modern scientific revolution that started with Copernicus, Galileo, Kepler, and Newton, two things have changed that have required reorientation of our assumptions and re-education of our reflexes. First, we have learned that even the very best science is fallible; eminently successful theories investigated and supported through the best methods, and by the best evidence available, might be not just incomplete but wrong. That is, it is possible to have a justified belief that is false. Second, we have learned that it is impossible, even for scientists, to maintain the Enlightenment ideal of “thinking for oneself” on every matter about which we want to have, and do think we have, knowledge; the volume of information involved makes us all epistemically dependent on others. Scientists in practice have adjusted to these developments much more easily than have lay people. It is also easier to adjust in scientific practice than it is to explain these matters explicitly and accurately to others. To do so it is helpful to consider our epistemological situation precisely, and to understand the broader cultural ideas and historical forces at work in modern science and its public reception

Self-knowledge has always played a role in healthcare since a person needs to be able to accurately assess her body or behaviour in order to determine whether to seek medical help. But more recently it has come to play a larger role, as healthcare has moved from a more paternalistic model to one where patients are expected to take charge of their health; as we realise that early detection, and hence self-examination, can play a crucial role in outcomes; as medical science improves and makes more terminal illnesses into chronic conditions requiring self-management; as genetic testing makes it possible to have more information about our futures; and with the advent of personal electronic devices that make it easy for a person to gather accurate real-time information about her body. It can be hard to get good information about oneself, and even harder to know what to do it. Sometimes self-knowledge is needed for a good outcome, but sometimes it is useless, or worse. For instance, breast self-examination can lead to over-treatment, learning that one has a predisposing gene can create a detrimental illusion of knowing more about the future than one does, and data about one’s vital signs can be meaningless if taken out of a context of interpretation. This collection explores how these and other issues play out in a variety of medical specialities.