Is Epistemology Guilty of “Institutional Neglect of Science”?
Standard Analytic Epistemology (SAE) is the name Michael Bishop (Florida State) and J.D. Trout (Illinois Institute of Technology) give to “the dominant approach to the theory of knowledge in the English-speaking world.”
And they have some problems with it.

Professor Trout contrasts their approach to epistemology, “Strategic Reliabilism,” to SAE in part of a lengthy and interesting interview by Richard Marshall at 3:16AM:
SAE… is based on a variety of descriptive theories of how our minds work. Those descriptive theories are crafted by philosophers, and those theories are substantially false. This should not be surprising. The mind and the world are complicated things. It would be shocking if you could presuppose a descriptive theory of the mind without the counsel of science—not to mention without its methods—and expect to have an intellectually serious epistemic enterprise. But that is what most epistemologists have done. What is remarkable is how little effort has been devoted to justifying this institutional neglect of science. But we have grown used to it. In a world in which philosophers take their intuitions, considered or not, as the touchstone of theory-construction, if not truth, it seems that the burden is on others to explain what is wrong with this assumption. This burden is a key feature of what Mike Bishop and I have described more broadly in recent work as “the epistemology of the con”. Just to be good sports, and to stay in the game, too often fully naturalistic philosophers carry this burden, even after all the lessons have been learned from the historical and social studies of science.
So I believe the impatience of naturalistic philosophers is understandable, abandoning issues blessed by reigning epistemologists and taking up theory construction in psychology, occurring at the foundations of the cognitive science of judgment. But to oblige: Basically, the descriptive theory that underlies SAE is, while not a monolith, generally too simplistic, when it isn’t just false. Those in the grips of SAE too often give priority to the way things “seem” to them, or what we “clearly want to say” about certain kinds of scenarios. Adherence to our most jealously protected intuitions is no doubt comforting, and it fosters the feeling that, with enough work and attention, we can properly calibrate our beliefs and overcome our cognitive imperfections, including the overconfidence bias that leads us to errantly trust our intuitions. It seems to them that you can conclude there is no real sunk cost fallacy, if you can find a sunk-cost that is redeemed, and then conclude that redemption is not impossible so the sunk cost fallacy isn’t a genuine imperfection. Thus, our intuitions have been saved, no matter how cognitively costly the must more frequent, actual, failed redemptions may be. We find that epistemologists in the English-speaking world don’t show much initiative making the methods and findings of cognitive science constitutive of epistemic norms in the way that, say, philosophers of biology have made the practices and findings of biology constitutive of norms in philosophy of biology (say, when appraising proper function or taxonomy).
The hard-won scientific findings about the natural contours of cognition provide faint constraints on the distinctly philosophical pronouncements of SAE. Philosophical accounts might hedge their claims, but their ceteris paribus clauses are self-protective, not evidentially probative. Without documenting mechanisms, the theory asserts that those mechanisms are capable of processing whatever information is necessary to meet the normative theory’s routine demands, whether that is withholding belief until you are certain X is true, until you consider the total evidence, until you consider all of the available evidence, or until you are justified, to name just a few common normative themes. We could not even begin to satisfy these normative aims unless we had perceptual and cognitive mechanism far different—much more powerful and expansive and controllable—than the ones we in fact possess.
Of course, the last 40 years in epistemology has been a story of responsible naturalistic philosophers and psychologists pointing out the falsehoods in the implicit descriptive theory of Standard Analytic Epistemologists, and the SAEers insisting they didn’t need that part of a theory, offering an equally unestablished alternative. SAE is burdened by false descriptive theories, but its methodologies just aren’t well-suited to responsible or even courteous intellectual inquiry. It just isn’t collegial to run your research program by saying “Here is something I thought of, now prove me wrong.” There is too much that your opponent has to know in order to refute you, and nothing that you need to. But given the intuition-pumping method that has dominated SAE, a philosophical advocate claims success when their imaginable scenarios aren’t demonstrably false, or apparently inconsistent with intuitions, or with some stuff we might believe. At some point, you just have to point to the argument that this method is a recipe for keeping a corner of Philosophy busy, but it isn’t an intellectually reputable way to conduct yourself.
The whole interview is here. Discussion welcome.
Some of this seems plausible – cog sci rules! – but some of it seems to me dismissive in a way that I don’t quite understand.
Lots of traditional epistemology can be boiled down to inconsistent triads of seemingly undeniable ideas. For example:
Skepticism
I doubt that cog sci tells you which one of these to reject. Ditto for the classic riddle of induction, for grue, for arguments from illusion, etc.
Maybe Trout’s view is that it doesn’t matter if you say things that are bonkers as long as they are merely “intuitively” bonkers. But if intuition can’t be even one source of justification, where does our justification come from? Only sense experience? (Good luck recovering knowledge of the external world!) Does Trout think it’s irrational to have prior probabilities? (Sorry, Bayesians!)
Trout’s “strategic reliabilism” does sound cool, and I appreciated the digs at reflective equilibrium, but just having read the interview, I don’t get how his approach is supposed to replace “SAE.”
I’m with Platypus. (Not a sentence I expected to write this morning.)
Also a big fan of the Platypus. When science is relevant (e.g. cog sci), it can’t be skipped. When science is helpful (e.g. x phi) it shouldn’t be skipped. When science doesn’t get a take, we can still do philosophy without it.
I suspect if epistemologists, and philosophers more generally, took more time to appreciate what the empirical sciences had to offer with respect to understanding the mind than, like me, they’d be at least more sympathetic to what Bishop and Trout are up to. I certainly am. Their work inspired me to pursue an interdisciplinary approach to philosophy and psychology. I don’t know if they and I would have a similar response to the particular issue you propose, but I think something like classical pragmatism coupled with contemporary cognitive science can handle traditional analytic epistemological problems just fine, either by resolving them where they turn out to be evaluable in empirical terms, or dissolving them as pseudoproblems where they don’t.
Either way, I see little advantage to philosophers working in fields where empirical data and empirical approaches would be relevant to shy away from them or to continue to employ methods or rely on presuppositions that may be mistaken or incomplete in light of contemporary cognitive science.
To use scientific findings as an argument against certain philosophical claims, you’ll always need a philosophical premise of some sort. And then the debate around that premise will look awfully like, well, standard philosophy.
I suspect Trout would have two things to say wrt Platypus’s inconsistent Triad.
A) Why are we wasting our time on this stupid problem? Sure you can make a living at it but is that enough of an excuse?
B) But if we are going to play this silly game 2) is obviously the one to reject. The idea is that you don’t know X unless it is logically impossible that your evidence for X could hold and that X be false. If we were to accept this principle there would be no such thing as scientific knowledge. But there is such a thing as scientific knowledge. So we should reject it.
This is the way.
As a philosopher of biology, I can’t resist pointing out that the entire problem of theory/hypothesis confirmation in science arises because multiple theories/hypotheses are always consistent with available evidence. Consistency is an extremely low epistemic bar (and as a result, proving that all but one explanation is logically inconsistent with available evidence is an absurdly high bar). The practices of the sciences are essentially a bunch of local attempts to confirm explanations at an “intermediate” level that is more robust than showing mere consistency and at the same time less demanding than logically excluding all alternatives.
(B) is a nice little argument, but critics of intuitions should be careful when making claims about what is obvious.
It looks an awful lot like a transcendental argument for trusting intuitions.
I’ve been thinking about this reply all morning and I’m baffled by it. I’m not convinced by Pigden’s argument, but the “obvious” qualifier isn’t used to signal an intuition; it’s just a rhetorical way of saying “when you reflect on the logical space, the most reasonable response is to reject 2”. That is no an appeal to intuition, because he then spells out the relevant argument.
(I guess I could be wrong here. Maybe all those articles which I think of as appealing to intuition saying things like “Obviously, Bill doesn’t know how many coins in his pocket” meant “I have an argument as to why Bill didn’t know that”. They then mysteriously forgot to include the argument).
Fair question! The short answer is that I don’t think we can evaluate the argument without relying on intuition. For example, what justifies the claim that we have scientific knowledge?
That claim seems to imply that we can avoid underdetermination problems in scientific theorizing. It also seems to imply that scientific methods are good methods, which suggests that inductive and explanatory inferences are justified forms of inference. In short, it implies that we can avoid skepticism of many different varieties. I’m not aware of any purely empirical solutions to these sorts of skeptical problems.
(I am not claiming that intuitions allow easy solutions to skeptical problems.)
I personally wouldn’t put it as “But there is such a thing as scientific knowledge.” I would instead put it as, “there are various ways that we can use a phrase like “scientific knowledge”, and to me the ones that make it impossible to have it aren’t very useful, so I’m going to use the phrase in a way on which there clearly is such a thing”.
This would be more of a pragmatic argument than a transcendental one. It’s not that there’s a kind of project that is a priori justified, but rather that there’s a kind of project that might actually accomplish something for me.
Ah, ok, I see the issues here more clearly now. I agree entirely that the claim that we have scientific knowledge requires a lot of defence and unpacking in a response to the sceptic. Still, I still find it a bit weird to think of Pigden’s response to the sceptic as analogous to the ways in which ‘appeals to intuition’ are standardly used in epistemology. I can see that you might read Pigden as saying it is self-evident that we have scientific knowledge, but I thought the worry about contemporary epistemology was more specific- that very precise claims which are in conflict with the findings of some science are treated as ‘self-evident’ starting points. That seems a more specific worry?
“to me the ones that make it impossible to have it aren’t very useful”
Is that conviction based on intuition, scientific knowledge, or something else?
In the case of (A), it’s important to distinguish (1) the demand for logical consistency in this issue rather than, say, the text of Moby Dick from (2) the labelling the problem as “stupid”. I think (1) is a perfectly reasonable request, whereas (2) suggests insecurity at being able to resolve the problem in a rigorous way.
Furthermore, as you suggest in your point for (B), it’s related to the issue of the appropriate epistemological position regarding science. But the appropriate epistemological position regarding science is far from uncontroversial, in the academy (including among metaethicists, as I know you know) and elsewhere. So that’s an indicator, which can be fleshed out, that issues regarding skepticism are far from practically irrelevant.
I am fully on board with your rejection of deductivism, but notice how (a) your conditional premises is controversial and would be rejected by a significant number of (I think mistaken) scientists who have been corrupted by Popperianism or other deductivist philosophies of science, while (b) raises any number of questions in the philosophy of science, not least the problem of induction. Even if you’re willing to dismiss the philosophers who reject the positions you describe, the fact is that rival views are held within science, religion, politics, and elsewhere, not always by stupid people, and it seems a worthy enterprise to argue against them.
So while I agree with your fundamental moves in the game, I think one should acknowledge that this is a game worth playing, and one where there are non-stupid people on the other teams.
Some standard analytic epistemologists are interested in elucidating the norms that are constitutive of the folk concepts of knowledge and justification. Since these folk-concepts aren’t informed by recent developments in cognitive science, it’s not clear why those interested in elucidating them should incorporate those developments.
On a related note: Trout seems to think that it’s disqualifying for a theory of knowledge to make use of epistemic norms that we aren’t cognitively equipped to satisfy. But it’s not clear that this is disqualifying. It may turn out, once the norms constitutive of knowledge are elucidated, that as a matter of empirical fact very few of us ever satisfy them. Some philosophers (Plato comes to mind) would find this unsurprising.
(On another related note: Some epistemic norms, such as the total evidence requirement, can be understood as ideals which may be more or less approximately satisfied. I suspect that advocates of the total evidence requirement would agree that humans can do an adequate job of meeting this requirement by trying their best to think of relevant evidence and not ignoring evidence they know to be relevant. That no one is cognitively equipped to consider all the evidence they have for every proposition they believe doesn’t imply that the total evidence requirement isn’t normative.)
This isn’t to say that cognitive science is irrelevant to epistemology, of course. It’s just to say that some of it is irrelevant to some interesting epistemological questions.
Do these standard analytic philosophers take facts about what those norms are, or more generally what the nature of folk concepts of knowledge and justification are, to be empirical or non-empirical questions? If they think they aren’t empirical questions, but they are, then to the extent these philosophers are mistaken about the nature of the questions and the best methods used to assess those questions. If they think they are empirical questions, then I’m puzzled that more of these philosophers aren’t pursuing these questions using empirical methods.
Good point — these are ways cognitive science could turn out to be relevant even to the task of elucidating folk-concepts. But Trout’s contention is that standard analytic epistemologists are presupposing a descriptive theory that is false by the lights of scientific consensus. And as far as I’m aware, there is no consensus (yet) among cognitive scientists about what concepts are. Certainly, there is no consensus that concepts are the sort of thing that couldn’t be elucidated in the way standard analytic epistemologists have tried to elucidate them.
If “folk concept” means something like the kind of concept that most people tend to have, then you better be doing some actual cognitive science if you want to identify these concepts! It’s not enough for a highly unusual and highly trained group to just introspect, and assume that other people have the same concepts they do.
The continued inability of analytic philosophers to come up with a meta theory of epistemic justification for their preferred theory of epistemic justification turned me off from the whole venture years ago. Plus, add the unsatisfactory responses to the Problem of the Criterion and the Agrippan Trilemma, not to mention that folks have still failed to reach a consensus with respect to Gettier’s popularization of Russell’s problem, and you get the sense that this area of philosophy got lost in fake barn county decades ago.
As for the turn to cognitive science, this is better, but there are still limitations. Better to go all the way by learning about evolutionary biology and ecology, just like Peirce, James and Dewey were doing before Russell and his fellow critics unfairly and somewhat naively sidelined Pragmatism.
The latter paragraph is, in fact, the route I took. I ended up studying evolution and getting a PhD in psychology, and have more recently adopted classical pragmatism after realizing that that’s what I should’ve been in favor of all along. I don’t just think sidelining pragmatism somewhat naive. I think it was a disaster, and that analytic philosophy would be in a far better position were pragmatism more prominent.
Can you explain how or why analytic philosophy would be in a far better position were pragmatism more prominent? Maybe you just think that because you think pragmatism is the right view. But if you think something more than that I’d be interested in knowing why.
So I think that Neo-Pragmatists, following Rorty and Putnam, see Pragmatism as being the right view with respect to the sorts of questions which are of interest to analytical philosophers. By contrast, I think the early Pragmatists were interested in a different set of questions having to with the implications of evolutionary theory. Had we focused on these questions, instead of on those which interested Moore and Russell, I do believe we would have a better understanding of the world in which we participate.
“I think the early Pragmatists were interested in a different set of questions having to with the implications of evolutionary theory”
Not sure about that. At least Peirce and James (paradigmatic early Pragmatists) were very interested in various types of skeptical paradox and (in the case of Peirce) formal constructions. I know less about Dewey, but Ernest Nagel at least had little problem drawing similarities of interest and doctrine between Dewey and mid-20th century analytic philosophy of science.
The answers of e.g. Peirce to the problems of skepticism were different from those of e.g. Russell, and as Kenny Easwaran says below the methods of Pragmatists are often different from textbook analytic philosophy, but as far as I can tell he was still trying to answer similar fundamental questions.
The way I would put this is that a lot of philosophy takes itself to be in the business of identifying concepts. Certain strands of analytic philosophy (particularly the more “ordinary language” versions but also some more Lewisian or “Canberra plan” style versions too) take our pre-theoretic usage to be definitive and try to identify the necessary and sufficient conditions for these concepts. More pragmatist views, both of the Carnapian persuasion and the contemporary trend of “conceptual engineering”, instead look to what we are trying to do with various concepts, and see what sorts of conditions could be built into those concepts to make them more suitable for the work we want to do.
To me, the latter approach feels like the most fruitful sort of project – if there are things we want to do, then finding the useful tools for doing those things is pretty self-evidently valuable (at least, of whatever value the things we want to do are). Which isn’t to say that there’s no room for the other project – there’s a conservative argument that people probably found pretty good concepts for the projects we were engaged in in the past, and identifying the details of how we use those concepts will likely help us understand some of the uses those concepts were put to that we might not have thought about initially. But the pragmatist account seems to me to give a better grounding of the goodness of either project – if the analysis of past usage is helpful, it will be by helping us understand the past projects and the tools that grew up for approaching them, which is either helpful because we recognize how current projects are similar to those past projects, so that the tools that worked in the past are still useful, or because we recognize how current projects are different from past projects, so that we need new tools.
I’m sure this is discussed in the literature, so feel free to just point me to something you think is good on the topic, but what are the constraints on the pragmatic project? I mean, different people will have different goals, so it seems like if revising concepts to further our goals is fair game, we’re just going to end up in a sort of propaganda war to try to get the communal/popular concept to be the one that furthers our goals.
The pragmatic project doesn’t usually judge the value of a concept by the effects of having the general public working with it – rather, it judges the value of a concept by the usefulness to the theorist of having the theorist work with it while engaging in their particular project.
For a trivial example, precisifying the concept “tall” as “over 48 inches tall” might be very useful when deciding which people can safely ride a particular ride at the amusement part, but it won’t be very useful when picking NBA draft picks. Precisifying “tall” as “over 84 inches tall” might be useful when picking NBA draft picks, but probably not for most amusement park operators.
For a more philosophical example, a pragmatist will say that precisifying knowledge as “justified true belief” is probably perfectly fine in some projects, but really bad for others. And precisifying “justified” as “over probability .9 given my evidence” will be fine for some projects, while others would benefit from a more subtle account that depends on the stakes of practical options, and others would benefit from considerations of non-probabilistic and non-stakes-related factors as well. The idea is that none of these is the “right” concept that everyone should be using – each concept has its own use.
(Propaganda wars are likely to arise in politics whether philosophers adopt pragmatic conceptual analysis in our own work or whether philosophers aim for some universal correct analysis.)
In setting up the choice between these two conceptions of philosophy, you do ignore a quite different perspective on what philosophers are or should be doing: acquiring knowledge about matters of philosophical interest. We have concepts, which enable us to think about things, and we try to find out what those things are like. The same as in science, or maths, or any other field of inquiry, except we’re interested in things like truth, knowledge, and justice, rather than electrons, prime numbers, or World War 2. (There are borderline cases.)
On this understanding, philosophy does not take established usage of words or concepts as definitive, and it need not aspire to providing necessary and sufficient conditions. Just like other academic disciplines. It is also unguided by the broadly instrumental functions of concepts that pick out things of philosophical interest.We might achieve, or want to achieve, various practical things with the concept of climate change, but inquiry into climate change should probably not be guided by actual or even desirable instrumental uses of its concept. Why should it be any different with inquiry into what philosophers find interesting?*
Anti-exceptionalists about philosophy can agree that philosophers should try to incorporate empirical findings into epistemology, or that they should be careful about appeals to intuition.
*If you ignore instrumental functions of concepts, and focus on representational functions, then there is scope for an anti-exceptionalist conception of “pragmatism”: philosophers building functionally optimal conceptions would amount to their building conceptions that best represent the theoretically interesting aspects of knowledge, truth, etc.
Yeah, this is just like why I gave up on ethics and political philosophy. The continued inability of ethical philosophers to come up with a meta theory of moral justification everyone can agree on turned me off from the whole venture years ago. Plus, add the unsatisfactory responses to the repugnant conclusion and the trolley problem, not to mention that folks have still failed to reach a consensus with respect to Mackie’s popularization of Plato’s problem, and you get the sense that this area of philosophy got lost in Parfit’s mines decades ago.
Similarly, philosophy of science: The continued inability of analytic philosophers to come up with a meta theory of scientific justification turned me off from the whole venture years ago. Plus, add the unsatisfactory responses to the underdetermination and pessimistic induction problems, not to mention that folks have still failed to reach a consensus with respect to Quine’s popularization of Duhem’s problem, and you get the sense that this area of philosophy got lost in Laplace’s demon’s world decades ago.
And existentialism: The continued inability of existentialist philosophers to come up with a meta theory of life’s justification. Plus, add the unsatisfactory responses to the problem of suicide and life’s absurdity problems, not to mention that folks have still failed to reach a consensus with respect to Sartre’s popularization of Kierkegaard’s problem, and you get the sense that this area of philosophy got lost in French Algeria decades ago.
Look, you could do this copypasta for any area of philosophy. The fact that philosophy is hard is not a reason not to do it. Or quit and go get a job in business.
What would be a good reason to quit it, then?
Oh yeah, that last disjunct was unclear on my part. It should have read: “If you think philosophy being hard is a reason not to do it, then you should do something else with your life.”
I can’t speak to the first and last paragraphs, but I think you make a fine enough argument for giving up on analytic philosophy of science. 🙂
I do not recall complaining about philosophy being hard, though. There are three reasons for why I gave up on analytic epistemology, but none of them have to do with the carpentry business that I already run on the side as a red seal carpenter with a diploma in architectural technology.
First, I think analytic philosophy is burdened with assumptions that are indefensible, such as the presumption that there must exist some kind of epistemic gap or veil of perception which prevents organisms from having direct epistemic access to the very umwelten with which they form task-dependent, softly-assembled coupled systems.
Second, I think that many of questions and problems that analytic philosophers tend to be interested in are just not that important – as though we could ever reach a consensus on some conceptual analysis of X that everyone agrees to around the world, both now and forever more.
Finally, I think that the analytic method of breaking things down into finer and finer distinctions can be helpful, but it is limited in its application. The world is filled with nested systems that evolve over time. There is nonlinear feedback in these systems, and boundaries that once seemed hard and fast break down, depending on which physical processes we are studying. None of this is additive. We cannot understand these systems by breaking them down into their parts and then studying those parts in isolation. Therefore, while analysis is still useful, it is neither the only method, nor is it the best method to use in all circumstances.
The philosophy that matters most these days, in my opinion, is the philosophy that deals with evolutionary and developmental biology and ecology. That is where the real action is.
“I think analytic philosophy is burdened with assumptions that are indefensible, such as the presumption that there must exist some kind of epistemic gap or veil of perception which prevents organisms from having direct epistemic access to the very umwelten with which they form task-dependent, softly-assembled coupled systems.”
That sounds like direct realism, a position advocated by a significant number of analytic philosophers. I agree that direct realists SHOULD have won the debate by now, but we’re still allowed in the debate! And it’s very uncharitable to critics of direct realism to accuse them to presuming that it’s wrong, rather than posing lots of tricky arguments to the contrary, e.g. the Argument from Illusion.
So much of this sounds like Ladyman and Ross, and Rorty too.
Philosophy isn’t for everyone (apologies to Bobby Knight).
I’m both puzzled and frustrated by the level of the discussion in the interview. Having read it, I am still far from clear on exactly what SAE is, whether it has any actual proponents or practitioners, exactly what mistake it commits, and what precise findings from the cognitive sciences it is alleged to problematically ignore. A little more detail and care in the formulation of a critique of the (allegedly) dominant approach to one of the main fields in our discipline seems called for.
Fair enough. Try reading trout and bishops book instead of relying on the interview.
It’s not clear to me why this question can’t be succinctly answered if it has an answer at all. I’ve fallen for the ‘you’ll have to read this 300 page book’ trick too many times, and I’m getting better at induction these days.
Well just read the 2005 paper that Joel links below
Here is the 2005 paper on which the book is based. I note that the main argument of the paper seems to generalize to make all intuition-driven philosophy a kind of armchair descriptive psychology.
https://philarchive.org/go.pl?id=BISTPO-6&proxyId=&u=https%3A%2F%2Fphilpapers.org%2Farchive%2FBISTPO-6.pdf
Loved this. I felt like this was a clear account of what I much more vaguely but persistently said during grad school to the analytic philosophers (SAE-practitioners) in my graduate department. It never occurred to me to try and make this kind of criticism into a research program, because there are so many other available ways to do philosophy as well as venues to do it in. It’s not obvious that this negative program is too much better – I think SAE is probably fruitless but harmless – though it is enjoyable to read about on a blog.