In the previous post, I linked to a video interview of Richard Dawkins by William Crawley. A portion of that interview reminded me of conversations I have had many times before, with people who tell me that the scientific method is founded on assumptions just like religion. Here is that portion, which I transcribed (thus, any errors are mine):
Crawley: This principle that good beliefs are beliefs that are based on evidence—isn’t it also the case that the very foundations of science, the philosophical assumptions that make science possible, are themselves simply that—assumptions? They are not evidence, they don’t have evidence, they’re assumed in order to create a scientific perspective that makes sense of evidence.
Dawkins: Well philosophers are fond of that kind of thing. they even take it to a point that it’s an assumption that two plus two equals four rather than five. I mean, logic is an assumption. I suppose the minimal thing I would say is that it works.
Crawley: It certainly works, but my point is that the foundations of science are open to the same challenge that you’re making of religion: that they are assumptions that do not afford evidence.
Dawkins: If we were to apply that measure of skepticism to everyday life, suppose we were in a court of law and prosecuting counsel sternly wagged his finger at you and said, “Were you or were you not in Belfast on the night of the 21st of November?” and you said, “Oh, well, philosophers differ on what it means to say that it’s true that any man is ‘in’ any place and you have to tell me what your philosophical foundations are.” I mean, the judge wouldn’t listen to you.
Crawley: No one is saying that science is bad as a consequence of that lack of evidence. I’m agreeing with you that science is a wonderful phenomenon that we should encourage, but I’m also saying that the very foundations of science are open to the same philosophical challenge you’re making about religion.
Dawkins: And I’m accepting that, but I’m also asking you to go further and say that everyday life is, too.
Crawley: Faith plays a role in everything.
Dawkins: Now let’s stop for the moment. Everyday life, the ordinary common sense view that you can’t walk through doors and that kind of thing. That sort of common sense is exactly subject to the same kind of limitations that you’re saying science is, and I accept that.
To summarize Dawkins’ argument, the philosophical foundation of any proposition is open to challenge; however, all propositions may be evaluated according to their correspondence with direct observation.
No matter how ardently I may believe that the MacBook on which I am writing these words does not exist, which belief may be stated as the proposition “The MacBook on which I am writing these words does not exist,” the proposition does not square with my direct and immediate observation that this MacBook does in fact exist.
To demand that no proposition be trusted if it cannot be philosophically supported is the same as saying “No proposition can be trusted unless there are other propositions that support it and none of those propositions can be questionable.” This is because all philosophical arguments are simply propositions intended to support other propositions. However, beyond the endless train of unsupportable supporting propositions, there remain phenomena, which are the subject of our direct and immediate observations.
Yes, that too is a proposition: “Phenomena are the subject of our direct and immediate observations.”
Even trickier, how does one evaluate that proposition in light of direct and immediate observations if the validity of those direct and intermediate observations are themselves the subject of the proposition? Thus, the phenomenological works of Martin Heidegger. (Will someone please pay me a lot of money so that I can have a year off of work to read Being and Time? Anyone is also welcome to simply buy the book for me.)
At any rate, Dawkins is right to bring the issue back to the everyday world. If I swing my fist (which I believe I have) at the desk (which I believe I am sitting at), even with my eyes closed, so that I cannot “cheat” and see the exact moment at which my fist makes contact with the surface of the desk, I will somehow “experience” that moment of contact. While all the propositions supporting that conclusion are open to challenge, why will the experience not go away?