Template:M intro philosophy transgressing hermeneutical boundaries

L’affair Sokal

In nineteen ninety-six physicist Alan Sokal submitted the paper Transgressing The Boundaries: Towards a Transformative Hermeneutics of Quantum Gravity to Social Text, a respected academic journal in the field of cultural studies. It argued that:

[...] feminist and poststructuralist critiques have demystified the substantive content of mainstream Western scientific practice, revealing the ideology of domination concealed behind the façade of “objectivity”. It has thus become increasingly apparent that physical “reality”, no less than social “reality”, is at bottom a social and linguistic construct; that scientific “knowledge”, far from being objective, reflects and encodes the dominant ideologies and power relations of the culture that produced it; that the truth claims of science are inherently theory-laden and self-referential; and consequently, that the discourse of the scientific community, for all its undeniable value, cannot assert a privileged epistemological status with respect to counter-hegemonic narratives emanating from dissident or marginalized communities.

Social Text published it. This turned out to be a bad mistake. Rather than it representing some major concession on the part of hard science, Sokal announced that he had been joking. In another journal — no doubt the irony was not lost on him that it was called Lingua Franca — he crowed that the whole paper was a ridiculous hoax, stuffed with deliberately nonsensical arguments and absurd claims purporting to connect established tenets of theoretical physics to more deluded reaches of postmodernist ideology. Those morons at Social Text fell right into his trap, exposing themselves as credulous midwits and their discipline as pretentious hogwash.

Sokal made much of this wheeze, eventually publishing a best-selling book about it (Fashionable Nonsense) in which he extended his ambition from merely mocking the cretinous cultural studies academics and instead set out to vanquish an altogether bigger target: postmodernism itself.

The book was a roaring success, and as such, Alan Sokal has rather ascended the Olympian mount, taking his place in the pantheon of muscular 21st-century rationalism besides the likes of Richard Dawkins, Daniel Dennett, Sam Harris and Steven Weinberg who, they expected would spent the next brief while wiping the floor with what left of the simpering relativists before we could all pass into a post-historical sunlit uplands of good, old-fashioned, white-bread, meat-and-veggies common sense.

So it must be a bit galling to note that, twenty years on, the battle for the soul of transcendent truth still rages. Baudrillard and Derrida may have passed on — dead straight white dudes, after all — but “post-truth” types still hanging about: a new generation of intersectionally-marginalised critical theorists skulks about the marketplace of ideas, intent on decolonising science and straining it through a filter of gender, race, and cultural hegemony. At the same time Professors Weinberg and Dennett have also passed on, Professor Dawkins is still with us, Insh’Allah, but looks a bit fed up with the whole scenario.

It was not meant to be like this.

Interlude: God is dead

God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers?

—Nietzsche, The Gay Science, 1882

Western thought is punctuated by a few monumental ideas. None since “the unexamined life is not worth living” more profound than this, from a gentleman naturalist in 1859:

As many more individuals of each species are born than can possibly survive; and as, consequently, there is a frequently recurring struggle for existence, it follows that any being, if it vary however slightly in any manner profitable to itself, under the complex and sometimes varying conditions of life, will have a better chance of surviving, and thus be naturally selected.

—Charles Darwin, On the Origin of Species (1859)

This basic statement of evolution by natural selection not only provides a compelling account of the origin of species but, says Daniel Dennett, operates as a kind of “universal acid”:

Darwin’s idea had been born as an answer to questions in biology, but it threatened to leak out, offering answers—welcome or not—to questions in cosmology (going in one direction) and psychology (going in the other direction). If redesign could be a mindless, algorithmic process of evolution, why couldn’t that whole process itself be the product of evolution, and so forth, all the way down?

—Daniel Dennett, Darwin’s Dangerous Idea

In the simplest case, evolution by natural selection does away with the need for a creator as anything more than a “prime mover”. No omnipotence, omniscience or omnipresence is required. Evolution killed the idea of God as an explanation and organising principle for the order in the universe.

There was, and remains, a great deal of resistance to that idea because of the abundance of apparent design in the universe. It just doesn’t look like something that happened by chance. That coiuld happen I don’t want to get into the Does God exist? debate, but simply to point up Darwin’s intellectual proposition as wholeheartedly adopted and developed by his successors in intellectual, er, spirit:

Just because something seems intentional, coherent, planned, consistent and designed, that doesn’t mean it is.

Now, Darwin’s dangerous idea wasn’t quite the bolt out of the blue that Daniel Dennett proposed: indeed, it was anticipated by more than a century by a similar idea, in the nascent field of economics:

Every individual necessarily labours to render the annual revenue of the society as great as he can. He generally, indeed, neither intends to promote the public interest nor knows how much he is promoting it. By preferring the support of domestic to that of foreign industry, he intends only his own security; and by directing that industry in such a manner as its produce may be of the greatest value, he intends only his own gain, and he is in this, as in many other cases, led by an invisible hand to promote an end which was no part of his intention.

—Adam Smith, The Wealth of Nations

It doesn't stop there. We can trace the chain of that idea back even further: in 1734, David Hume proposed:

We have no other notion of cause and effect, but that of certain objects, which have been always conjoin’d together, and which in all past instances have been found inseparable.

— David Hume, A Treatise on Human Nature

As far as we can tell, it’s correlation, not causation.

Hume, Smith and Darwin are monumental figures of the Western Enlightenment. They are exactly the kind of colonial hegemonists that the deconstructionists and the “third wave” of critical theorists reject outright — yet their insights form the foundation of contingency and scepticism which Sokal abhors. They more than anyone else undermine the idea that just because something seems to be ordered, structured, planned and deliberate, that it is.

There are no platonic forms. There is no divine plan. The economy is not controlled by the King. These are self-organising systems with no blueprint, no direction or goal.

Science has freed itself from the tyranny of the almighty, but there was a heavy price to pay. Back to Friedrich Nietzsche again:

What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we have to invent?

Alan Sokal’s best guess is a theory of “objective truth” constructed upon castles in the air. But surely, we can do better than that.

History and future

One could draw a distinction between the deconstructionists and the pragmatists, as I call them, thus: deconstructionists preoccupy themselves with the existing, historical power structure. A large part of their industry is identifying historic grievances and injustices. “critical” theory seeks to examine systems of thought and question the assumptions and social structures from which they arise, with a view to dismantling them. This is essentially a historic enterprise.

The pragmatic philosophers on the other hand typically try to understand and describe social and power structures with a view to ensuring better outcomes in the future.

What are the claims?

It’s important not to make a category error about the issue at stake here. Sokal frames it as one between existing established scientific “truths” and nonsensical hypotheses put up by the postmodernists. Taking established, functional theories about the practical world and running them against indulgent social theorising is a fun debate and an easy one to win. Richard Dawkins applies the coup de grace:

Show me a cultural relativist at thirty thousand feet and I’ll show you a hypocrite.

But to take this as a straight fight between, say, Isaac Newton and Judith Butler is to frame it as an argument between two competing truths, and not as to whether there is any truth at all. Butler has, well, their truth, Newton has his. This is not the conversation we need to have. It would be better to clear the field of both Newton and Butler, and stick to the dry principles of epistemology.

These were picked out not by provocative Frenchmen, but, largely, by Germans. Thus, Sokal will happily pick fights with Derrida, Lacan, Latour, Lyotard, Deleuze and Kristeva — “deconstructionists” whose main industry was attacking existing power structures behind received knowledge, intending to wipe away the power structures and radically reinterpret the world — but he has less to say about Wittgenstein, Gadamer, Kuhn and Rorty — who started from a position of that objective truth is unattainable, and sought to explain how humans manage to attain knowledge, understanding, and progress anyway, within that limited framework of human perception and given the complexities of language and culture.

Here is the difference between what the deconstructionists saw as “power structures” — bad, colonial, oppressive to marginalised people — and the pragmatists’ “research programmes” and “paradigms”, which are a precondition to any kind of community knowledge or culture.

The question is this: does the aquisition of knowledge — let’s park for a bit what we mean by “knowledge” — depend on the social structures through which we amass that knowledge or not? Park any questions about whether these social structures are valid, or effective, or good — and ask whether they are necessary. Can knowledge exist without them?

Unfortunately, that makes for a far more boring conversation, and much less scope for sledging from either side. Undoubtedly Newton was influenced by his cultural milieu — as outrageous as we might find it today — in arriving at his theories. So was Butler. But, what’s done is done: how, historically, we got to our working theories of the world does not matter. What effect they have on society is also moot: they must, after some kind of fashion or other, work, because they are still here. The question is abstract. Can knowledge develop without a supporting social structure, and if it cannot, once it has developed, can it acquire any validity independently of that or any other social structure? Can it bootstrap itself into independent existence?

Can knowledge develop without a social structure?

A difficulty the scientific realists have here is that all historical knowledge appears to have grown up in a very rigid social structure: academia.

While there are celebrated cases of intellectuals working outside established fields (Bayes’ inferential reasoning, Mendel’s genetics, Faraday’s electromagnetism and Wegener’s continental drift theory for example) each of these theories acquired scientific credibility only when ultimately adopted into the academy and subjected to community standards: peer review, replication of results, integration into or adaptation of existing theoretical frameworks to generate practical applications for the learning or further research building on the findings. As research programmes grow more sophisticated the prospect of gentlemen scientists stumbling across meaningful new theories in their greenhouses recedes. As new paradigms arrive the possibility arises (Steve Jobs and Steve Wozniak in their Cupertino garage) but is quickly overtaken by the scale and money and structure that flows in. The influence of research programmes grows as a scientific field matures that is to say.

This is not to falsify the notion of independent objective knowledge but to note that it is strangely co-relative with a social structure. Yes; the causal arrow may fly the other way, but still.

Can knowledge exist independently of its social structure?

Once generated within a social structure can knowledge escape it it can certainly be adopted by other social structures: indeed this kind of, well, cultural appropriation is exactly Alan Sokal’s objection had to the fruity French deconstructionists appropriating concepts from theoretical physics.

But you can’t have it both ways: either the knowledge exists and is free and may be appropriated by any academic discipline, or it is captive of the research programme that generated it, and there is some proprietary ownership in it, in which case it is difficult to maintain that the knowledge is not socially constructed.

Can knowledge have a truth value independently of its social structure?

Here again, the answer appears to be no, if Sokal’s own professions on the subject are anything to go by. Again, you can't have it both ways: either the knowledge exists free of a given social structure and therefore may be pressed into use without criticism from those within that social structure or it does not. If only quantum theorists are entitled, or qualified, to opine on the validity of quantum theory — If only they have the credentials and sufficient education, all imposed by a social structure, criticise applications of the knowledge, it is hard to see how the knowledge is not derived, developed and gate-kept by those holding senior positions within the, well, power structure.

We must start with a simpler question what are our grounds for believing we have access to the truth in the first place? A cursory look at the scientific method is sobering. As far as science depends on observation, and proceeds using inductive reasoning — and if you accept the scientific realist perspective it absolutely does then the fundamental means of gathering knowledge is incapable of yielding truth. The deductive argument that because something has always happened in the past, therefore it will always happen, in the future does not follow as a matter of crystalline logic. The best we can say is, Because X has always happened in the past we have no reason to think it will not continue to happen in the future. This is a significantly weaker claim especially insofar as it comes to the matter of transcendent truth.

Convergence and heat death: on being careful what to wish for

Now we might note that however much we appear to be converging on a truth the level and ferocity of arguments we have in the community never seems to abate. All that said, is not a final state of settled truth something we would be better not wishing for?

Ask yourself this: what gets you up in the morning? What propels you? What motivates you to carry on with whatever you are doing? Imagine that, whatever it was, it was done. No new mysteries required untangling no new problems solving, no resources redistributing colon no need for judgment, experience, cautionary tale or lesson? Everything is known. Would this not be a final resting place? Is this not the Restaurant at the End of the Universe? Is this not the apocalypse? the game is solved: the challenge is over.?

This not the boredom heat-death of universe?

Now, if it is true that we are steadily converging on truth, it cannot really be denied that this kind of entropy is our fate. Certainly, if that is our fate is no argument against truth convergence, but we should be grateful yet for an amount of pointless arguing that keeps the wolf from that particular door. And that is consistent with certain views of modern cosmology that entropy will eventually increase to a point the energy needed to create where no order remains.