Brian L. Keeley

As the end of the Millennium approaches, conspiracy theories are increasing in number and popularity. In this short essay, I offer an analysis of conspiracy theories inspired by Hume's discussion of miracles. My first conclusion is that whereas Hume can argue that miracles are, by definition, explanations we are not warranted in believing, there is nothing analytic that will allow us to distinguish good from bad conspiracy theories. There is no a priori method for distinguishing warranted conspiracy theories (say, those explaining Watergate) from those which are unwarranted (say, theories about extraterrestrials abducting humans). Nonetheless, there is a cluster of characteristics often shared by unwarranted conspiracy theories. An analysis of the alleged explanatory virtues of unwarranted conspiracies suggests some reasons for their current popularity, while at the same time providing grounds for their rejection. Finally, I discuss how conspiracy theories embody an anachronistic world-view that places the contemporary zeitgeist in a clearer light.

How ought we differentiate the senses? What, say, distinguishes vision from audition? The question comes in two versions. First, there is the traditional problem of individuating the senses in humans. Second, there is also an important question about what sensory modalities we ought to attribute to non-human animals, a version of the question that has been virtually ignored by philosophers. Modality ought to be construed as an “avenue into” an organism for information external to the central nervous system. Six proposed criteria found in the philosophical literature concerning the senses are reviewed. Initially, four criteria—physics, neurobiology, behavior, and evolutionary or developmental dedication—are shown to be individually necessary and jointly sufficient. Next, two criteria—Aristotle's proper objects of sensation criterion and Grice's sensation or qualia criterion—are considered and rejected. One overarching goal here is to show that there is interesting contemporary work left to be done on this ancient philosophical question.

Traditional secular conspiracy theories and explanations of worldly events in terms of supernatural agency share interesting epistemic features. This paper explores what can be called “supernatural conspiracy theories”, by considering such supernatural explanations through the lens of recent work on the epistemology of secular conspiracy theories. After considering the similarities and the differences between the two types of theories, the prospects for agnosticism both with respect to secular conspiracy theories and the existence of God are then considered. Arguments regarding secular conspiracy theories suggest ways to defend agnosticism with respect to God from arguments that agnosticism is not a logically stable position and that it ultimately collapses into atheism, as has been argued by N. Russell Hanson and others. I conclude that such attacks on religious agnosticism fail to appreciate the conspiratorial features of God's alleged role in the universe.

Largely a response to Lee Basham’s essay “Malevolent Global Conspiracy.” After presenting an update on the status of conspiracy theories surrounding the 1995 Oklahoma City bombing, I agree with Basham that falsification and paranoia are not effective ways to criticize conspiratorial thinking. However, I am not convinced with the case Basham presents against worries that conspiracy theories often falter by overestimating the ability of large, public institutions to be secretly and effectively controlled. His appeal to the historical record can be read as suggesting that malevolent global action can be effectively carried out in full public view, obviating recourse to conspiracy.

This paper explores the relationship between psychology and neurobiology in the context of cognitive science. Are the sciences that constitute cognitive science independent and theoretically autonomous, or is there a necessary interaction between them? I explore Fodor's Multiple Realization Thesis (MRT) which starts with the fact of multiple realization and purports to derive the theoretical autonomy of special sciences (such as psychology) from structural sciences (such as neurobiology). After laying out the MRT, it is shown that, on closer inspection, the argument is either circular or self-undermining--the argument either assumes the very autonomy it seeks to demonstrate or the concluded autonomy is contradicted by the theoretical interdependence invoked by the premises of the argument. Next, I explore a concrete example of multiple realization in the explanation of animal behavior: the convergent evolution of jamming avoidance behaviors in three genera of weakly electric fish. Contrary to the image painted by the MRT, the work on these animals involves a high degree of interaction between the various levels of investigation. The fact that our understanding of electric fish behavior involves functional theories and multiple realization without the kind of disunified science that is supposed to follow from such a situation indicates that the mere fact of multiple realization cannot be the basis for an autonomous psychology

The charge that anthropomorphizing nonhuman animals is a fallacy is itself largely misguided and mythic. Anthropomorphism in the study of animal behavior is placed in its original, theological context. Having set the historical stage, I then discuss its relationship to a number of other, related issues: the role of anecdotal evidence, the taxonomy of related anthropomorphic claims, its relationship to the attribution of psychological states in general, and the nature of the charge of anthropomorphism as a categorical claim. I then argue that the categorical reading of anthropomorphism cannot work and that it misrepresents what is being claimed when one claims that traits are shared between humans and nonhumans. We should think of such claims not as anthropomorphic per se– because that implies the trait is intrinsically human and only derivatively nonhuman. Instead, traits shared with mammals are mammalomorphic, for example, or primatomorphic when shared by primates.

Neuroethology is a branch of biology that studies the neural basis of naturally occurring animal behavior. This science, particularly a recent program called computational neuroethology, has a similar structure to the interdisciplinary endeavor of cognitive science. I argue that it would be fruitful to conceive of cognitive science as the computational neuroethology of humans. However, there are important differences between the two sciences, including the fact that neuroethology is much more comparative in its perspective. Neuroethology is a biological science and as such, evolution is a central notion. Its target organisms are studied in the context of their evolutionary history. The central goal of this paper is to argue that cognitive science can and ought to be more comparative in its approach to cognitive phenomena in humans. I show how the domain of cognitive phenomena can be divided up into four different classes, individuated by the relative phylogenetic uniqueness of the behavior. I then describe how comparative evidence can enrich our understanding in each of these different arenas

One issue within conspiracy theory theory is whether, or to what extent, our central concept – – should map on to the common, lay sense of the term. Some conspiracy theory theorists insist that we use the term as everyday people use it. So, for example, if the term has a pejorative connotation in everyday parlance, then academic work on the concept should reflect that. Other conspiracy theory theorists take a more revisionist approach, arguing instead that while their use of the theoretical concept should bear some relation to its use in natural language, it need not follow it subserviently. I argue that elements of this debate mirror related debates that were prominent in the philosophy of mind in the 1980s over folk psychology and eliminative materialism (debates that continue today, such as within the philosophy of perception and theories over how to individuate the senses). Then, there was a debate over whether the concepts of commonsense psychology, such as or, should be treated as theoretical posits, and hence open to significant revision or elimination, or whether they were instead the targets of explanation. I will argue that an eliminativist approach to has significant merit.

Artificial life (ALife) is the attempt to create artificial instances of life in a variety of media, but primarily within the digital computer. As such, the field brings together computationally-minded biologists and biologically-minded computer scientists. I argue that this new field is filled with interesting philosophical issues. However, there is a dearth of philosophers actively conducting research in this area. I discuss two books on the new field: Margaret A. Boden's The philosophy of artificial life and Christopher G. Langton's Artificial life: an overview. They cover three areas of philosophical interest: the definition of life, the relationship between life and mind, and the possibility of creating life within a computational environment. This discussion allows me to critique past work in the philosophy of ALife that tends to see the field as a proving ground for traditional arguments from the philosophy of artificial intelligence. Instead, I suggest, what is interesting about ALife is how it differs from artificial intelligence and that the most interesting philosophical issues in the area are those derived from biology, not psychology. I recommend that these two books taken together constitute an interesting introduction to ALife and the wealth of philosophical issues found therein.

This paper is a complement to the recent wealth of literature suggesting a strong philosophical relationship between artificial life (A-Life) and artificial intelligence (AI). I seek to point out where this analogy seems to break down, or where it would lead us to draw incorrect conclusions about the philosophical situation of A-Life. First, I sketch a thought experiment (based on the work of Tom Ray) that suggests how a certain subset of A-Life experiments should be evaluated. In doing so, I suggest that treating A-Life experiments as if they were just AI experiments applied to a new domain may lead us to see problems (like Searle’s “Chinese room”) which do not exist. In the second half of the paper, I examine the reasons for suggesting that there is a philosophical relationship between the two fields. I characterize the strong thesis for a translation of AI concepts, metaphors, and arguments into A-Life as the “global replacement strategy.” Such a strategy is only fruitful inasmuch as there is a strong analogy between AI and A-Life. I conclude the paper with a discussion of two areas where such a strong analogy seems to break down. These areas relate to eliminative materialism and the lack of a “subjective” element in biology. I conclude that the burden of proof lies with the person who wishes to import a concept from another discipline into A-Life, even if that other discipline is AI.

Are attributions of content and function determinate, or is there no fact of the matter to be fixed? Daniel Dennett has argued in favor of indeterminacy and concludes that, in practice, content and function cannot be fixed. The discovery of an electrical modality in vertebrates offers one concrete instance where attributions of function and content are supported by a strong scientific consensus. A century ago, electroreception was unimagined, whereas today it is widely believed that many species of bony fish, amphibians, sharks, skates, and rays possess this non-human sensory modality. A look at the history of science related to this discovery reveals a highly interdisciplinary endeavor, encompassing ethology, behavioral analysis, neuroscience, and evolutionary biology. While each area provides important evidence, none is sufficient on its own to fix content and function. Instead, I argue that an interdisciplinary, neuroethological approach is required to carry out such determinations. Further, a detailed consideration of biological research suggests that while content and function claims are empirically underdetermined and uncertain, there is insufficient reason to believe in an additional problem of indeterminism. In particular, Dennett's indeterminism arises from a research methodology -- logical adaptationism -- that generates evidence from only one of the areas of neuroethology. However, logical adaptationism does not reflect adaptationism as it is practiced in contemporary biology. I conclude that Dennett is faced with a dilemma: On the one hand, he can hold to logical adaptationism and the indeterminism that results from it, while giving up the relevance of his arguments to biological practice. On the other, he can embrace a more accurate version of adaptationism -- one which plays a role in a larger neuroethological framework -- but from which no strong indeterminacy claims follow

After first noting that I seek to broaden the definition of science fiction to a little more loosely defined speculative fiction, this essay explores four different ways in which fiction can work together with both the sciences and the philosophy of perception. This cooperation is needed because there is much about the sensory worlds of humans and non-human animals of which we continue to be ignorant. First, speculative fiction can be a source of hypotheses about the nature of the senses. Second, it can help us understand the inner worlds of beings different from us. Third, speculative fiction often pushes us to investigate the ethical and social dimensions of sensory difference. Finally, speculative fiction can play an important role in reconciling our scientific understanding of the senses with a more commonsense understanding of same.

After first noting that I seek to broaden the definition of science fiction to a little more loosely defined speculative fiction, this essay explores four different ways in which fiction can work together with both the sciences and the philosophy of perception. This cooperation is needed because there is much about the sensory worlds of humans and non-human animals of which we continue to be ignorant. First, speculative fiction can be a source of hypotheses about the nature of the senses. Second, it can help us understand the inner worlds of beings different from us. Third, speculative fiction often pushes us to investigate the ethical and social dimensions of sensory difference. Finally, speculative fiction can play an important role in reconciling our scientific understanding of the senses with a more commonsense understanding of same.

In Western common sense, one speaks of there being five human senses, a claim apparently challenged by the biological and psychological sciences. Part of this challenge comes in the form of claiming the existence of additional senses. Part of the challenge comes from positing multiple senses where common sense only speaks of one, such as with the fractionation of “touch” into pressure and temperature senses. One conceptual difficulty in thinking about the number and division of senses is that it's not clear whether the different senses constitute natural kinds and, if not, what kind of kind they are. Should we favor antirealism with respect to the senses, akin to the arguments of some concerning the nature of species or race? I will argue that this first problem is compounded by another: that we ought to be pluralists with respect to the senses—what is meant by the term “sense” varies from context to context, varying even between scientific contexts.

Compiled by an archaeologist and philosopher of science, Science at the Frontiers: Perspectives on the History and Philosophy of Science supplements current literature in the history and philosophy of science with essays approaching the traditional problems of the field from new perspectives and highlighting disciplines usually overlooked by the canon. William H. Krieger brings together scientists from a number of disciplines to answer these questions and more in a volume appropriate for both students and academics in the field.

In an opinion piece in the Los Angeles Times (08/06/2022), entitled Alex Jones is no kind of ‘theorist’, LZ Granderson writes that although the ubiquitous recent ‘conspiracy theorist’ of American journalism is Alex Jones, that appellation is not appropriate. He argues that Jones rarely ‘theorizes’ about events; he simply lies about them. In past work, I have argued that the starting points of many conspiracy theories are two forms of errant data: ‘unaccounted for’ data and ‘contradictory’ data. But Granderson’s critique raises two additional starting points, both of which are forms of falsehood: lies and what I call fabricated facts. Many conspiracy theories take as their starting point various forms of falsehood; this source points to a kind of conspiracy theory that is pernicious precisely because it is not offered in good faith as a theoretical explanation of events. I compare conspiratorial explanations to scientific explanations to see whether similar erroneous starting points exist there. I conclude that they do, and as with conspiracy theories, they often reflect a guiding influence of value-laden agenda that go beyond a mere attempt to accurately explain target phenomena.

Naturalism concerning the mental is the belief that the tools and concepts of natural science are necessary to achieve an understanding of the mind. After briefly setting the stage of naturalism and the mind, I pose the question of naturalism about the mind in its historical context, comparing the development of naturalist approaches to philosophy of mind to Russell's “hiving off” model of the history of Western philosophy, in which parts of philosophy have split away from the field as we have developed new ways to answer questions once central to philosophy. Next, after distinguishing ontological from methodological senses of naturalism, I explore a number of different 20th‐century naturalist approaches to studying the mind, ending with a discussion of eliminative materialism and its stress on the continuity of scientific (naturalist) and commonsense understandings of the mind.

It is common to account for our senses on the basis of our sensory organs. One way of glossing why Aristotle famously counted five senses—and why his count became common sense in the West and elsewhere—is because there are five rather obvious organs of sense. In more modern accounts, this organ criterion of the senses has transformed into a neurobiological criterion; that is to say, part of what it means to be a sense is to have an associated organ with appropriate physiological properties. For example, part of the claim that humans have a sense of vision is that we have a non-vestigial organ (the eye) that has cells (photoreceptors) especially sensitive to the properties of electromagnetic radiation. However, the nature of this “organ criterion” is a point of some contention. Is it a sufficient criterion? Necessary? To be called “vision” need the organ mediating it give rise to “visual experiences”? This chapter will consider the neurobiological criterion as it was originally presented in Aristotle and later reconceptualized in 19th-century neurophysiologist Johannes Müller’s “Law of Specific Nerve Energies.” By understanding the role of neurobiology in these accounts, we will be able to explore the deficiencies of contemporary accounts that downplay neurobiology in differentiating the senses. We will consider one of these accounts in detail: Alva Noë’s recent arguments in favor of an enactive approach to perceptual psychology.

What exactly is a sense, such that synaesthesia can be characterized as a "union" of them? This chapter explores the relationship between the neuropsychological phenomenon of synaesthesia and our understanding of the senses, particularly how many there are. After giving a brief introduction to our understanding of the senses and synaesthesia, I then present three different accounts of the nature of the senses. Each of these is derived from different aspects of our commonsense understanding of the senses, including the nature of the sensory organ, of the feature of the world sensed, and of the characteristic conscious experience unique to the operation of each sense. I argue that the facts of synaesthesia play out differently in reaction to each of these different accounts, but that ultimately, the phenomenon does not let us distinguish between them in terms of how many senses they would identify in a synaesthetic individual. Further, the facts of synaesthesia do not show that one account is correct or that the others are wrong. However, the differences in the sorts of considerations needed to make sense of synaesthesia on these different accounts does demonstrate the real differences that exist between them.

There are two ways to do the unexpected. The banal way—let's call it the expectedly unexpected—is simply to chart the waters of what is and is not done, and then set out to do something different. For a philosopher, this can be done by embracing a method of non sequitor or by perhaps inverting some strongly held assumption of the field. The more interesting way— the unexpectedly unexpected—is to transform the expectations themselves; to do something new and contextualize it in such a way that it not only makes perfect sense, but has the audience scratching their heads and saying, “Of course!” To do the unexpectedly unexpected on a regular basis is the true mark of genius. It recalls Kant's characterization of the genius as the one who not merely follows or breaks the rules of art but that, “Genius is the natural endowment that gives the rule to art.” We would not like to make the bold claim that Paul M. Churchland (PMC) is a philosophical genius of Kantian standards, but he sometimes achieves the unexpectedly unexpected and his position on the issue of scientific realism is a fine example of this. Given other views he holds and the philosophical forebears he holds dear, one might expect him to embrace an antirealism with respect to the posits of scientific theories. But, quite to the contrary, Churchland is one of the strongest contemporary philosophical voices on behalf of scientific realism. And, as we will discuss in this chapter, a closer look at this reasoning reveals that his realism is not perverse, it is exactly the sort of position he should be expected to hold, if only we understand the philosophical issues correctly.

What is the relationship between belief in (or other forms of engagement with) conspiratorial thinking and trust? To what extent does engagement with conspiracy theories lead to an erosion of trust in others, especially in public institutions? Further, would such an erosion of public trust constitute a reason for rejecting such engagement with conspiracy theories? In current philosophical discussions of the phenomenon of conspiracy theories, a number of scholars (e.g., M. R. X. Dentith, Lee Basham, Juha Räikkä, Pelkmans & Machold, among others) have identified and argued against what has been called Public Trust Skepticism (PTS), which is the thesis that, because they undermine the public trust of citizens in important democratic institutions, conspiracy theories should be given lesser credibility. In other words, we ought to discount conspiracy theories on the grounds that condoning them ends up undermining public trust. However, I argue that PTS gets things backwards: For at least an important class of conspiracy theories, it is the high degree of skepticism about the trustworthiness of public institutions that is presupposed by such theories that undermines their credibility. This happens in part, I argue, because such broad distrust of so many public sources of evidence tends to render incoherent much that such theorists would ordinarily wish to believe, resulting in a form of what I call “epistemic nihilism."

How ought we to determine the senses of nonhuman animals? To answer that question, we first need to determine the relationship between our understanding of nonhuman animal senses and those of humans; should the two accounts be continuous or discontinuous with one another? In this chapter, I argue that regardless of how we answer these questions, the understanding of nonhuman animal senses is philosophically interesting and should receive more attention than it has to date. Nonhuman animal senses such as infrared perception and magnetoreception pose some interesting conceptual challenges to attempts at understanding their operation.

Where does entertaining (or promoting) conspiracy theories stand with respect to rational inquiry? According to one view, conspiracy theorists are open-minded skeptics, being careful not to accept uncritically common wisdom, exploring alternative explanations of events, no matter how unlikely they might seem at first glance. Seen this way, they are akin to scientists attempting to explain the social world. On the other hand, they are also sometimes seen as overly credulous, believing everything they read on the internet, say. In addition to conspiracy theorists and scientists, another significant form of explanation of the events of the world can be found in religious contexts, such as when a disaster is explained as being an “act of God.” By comparing conspiratorial thinking with scientific and religious forms of explanation, features of all three are brought into more clear focus. For example, anomalies and a commitment to naturalist explanation are seen as important elements of scientific explanation, although the details are less clear. This paper uses conspiracy theories as a lens through which to investigate rational or scientific inquiry. In addition, a better understanding of the scientific method as it might be applied in the study of events of interest to conspiracy theorists can help understand their epistemic virtues and vices.

A common element of Western theism is a belief in Providence, in the sense of some kind of (perhaps unknown or inscrutable) Divine Plan for creation, especially if it involves Divine intervention in the world to see to it that His will be done. This positioning of God as a behind-the-scenes agent acting so as to bring about some end of His own desire has the flavor of conspiracy theory. Where some secular conspiracy theorists posit a cabal of powerful individuals (bankers, Freemasons, etc.) “pulling the strings” behind current events, belief in Providence posits God in a similar role (or perhaps God in conflict with a powerful, supernatural force of evil). But is this a fair comparison? Prima facie, there are a number of differences between the two cases, for example, God is posited as beneficent, whereas most conspiracy theories involve more self-serving goals or conspiracy theorists believe they have rational reason for their belief, not mere faith. This paper explores the relationship between these two cases in an attempt to more clearly define the epistemological features of each and to help understand how conclusions about the epistemic virtue of one might (or might not) apply to the other.