To a Popperian, absolute certainty and partial certainty are very similar things. To Popper's opponents, they are also very similar things: some people who previously advocated certainty backed off to partial certainty, to try to dodge some criticism without changing their views substantially.

What the hell *is* partial certainty? It doesn't even make sense. One attempt to make sense out of it is to say it's a matter of probability. We can have a theory that is 90% likely to be true, or 99%, or whatever. No attempts of this sort have ever actually worked. You run into problems like how do you establish what the probability of some theory is?

The other main kind of partial certainty is you say some theory is well "supported". Or confirmed. Or verified. Or justified. If anyone tells you they aren't, you just say you didn't mean to provide any guarantees or certainty, they are just *pretty good* theories, pretty well established, pretty reliable. This is all crap. No one really has any coherent idea of what it means. All they do is take philosophy and a ways of thinking that were designed to work with Knowledge meaning Justified, True Belief, and don't change anything at all except saying it's not *absolutely* certainty it's just really quite compelling. So it goes like this. I point out what they are saying might be false. They say, "Whatever. I didn't claim it was perfect. It's pretty good though." So I say, "No, look, it could be false. All the evidence you have is consistent with it being false. How the hell do you know it's pretty good?" So then they say we have to act on the limited knowledge we have, which all points to their theory. And I say, no look, the limited knowledge we have is consistent with infinitely many theories, and you can't just pick out the one you liked in advance and insist we have to act on that one just because we don't have perfect information. Definitely by now, sometimes earlier, they stop speaking coherently, so that's that.

Why are absolute and partial certainty so similar? When one retreats from the stronger form he keeps in mind the same questions and problems. He's still on the same quest. What he wants is to justify and establish Knowledge. He yearns for certainty. He asks questions like how do we know, how can we prove, what would be strong support, which theory has more support, and so on.

Here's another way to put it: there are people who think they Know, and people who accept we are fallible. People after partial certainty are in the Know camp. All they are doing is wearing a disguise because they can't deal with the fallibilist criticisms of the Know position when the position is layed out clearly. So they just won't lay it out clearly anymore.

Aristotle claimed he Knew, and Socrates claimed he did not know. Before Aristotle, philosophers differentiated between Divine Knowledge (episteme) and human opinion (doxa). Human opinion means guesses or conjectural knowledge. It's fallible, useful, and capable of improvement. Divine knowledge is the perfect truth which only the Gods have access to. Aristotle didn't like that. He wanted full blown Knowledge for himself. He invented induction trying to get it. He came up with the idea that definition statements are infallible trying to get it. He destroyed the old distinction, which had been very wise, and claimed the authority to dictate justified, true beliefs. Since then, it went from divine knowledge to just knowledge, and everyone tries to get it, with science, with authority, with anylytic philosophy, with induction, with statistics, with scientism, and so on. And human opinion no longer has a single word of its own, and is ridiculed. No one wants it. They don't want guesses, they want to Know. And if they can't have any guarantees, they want to say they Almost Know. They have Partial Certainty. They'd give anything not to be fallible humans with mere conjectures.

ftp://ftp.udel.edu/pub/people/case/kyb-final.ps

Most of this paper is code/math rather than philosophy. I am only criticizing its philosophy. It may be a very good paper within its field.

Consider a real world phenomenon f that is being investigated by an agent M. M performs discrete experiments x on f. For example, x might be a particle diffraction experiment and f(x) the resultant probable distribution on the other side of the diffraction grating. By a suitable encoding of the experiments and results we may treat f as a function from = {0,1,2,...}, the set of natural numbers, to N. A complete explanation for f is a computer program for f. Such a program for f gives us predictive power about the results of all possible experiments related to f. We are concerned about the theoretical properties of the agents which attempt to arrive at explanations (possibly only nearly correct) for different phenomena. In what follows we will conceptualize such agents as learners (of programs for function).

An inductive inference machine (IIM) is an algorithmic device which takes as its input a graph of a function N -> N, an ordered pair at a time, an, as it is receiving its input, outputs computer programs from time to time.

The use of the word 'explanation' here is not how Popper uses it. This is because they are not philosophers and are not doing philosophy. I am not faulting them for that, but I was rather hoping for a critique of Popper's philosophy, which this is not. I discuss the word 'explanation' more later.

The use of the word 'induction' here *is* how I use it. Their use of induction here has *data first*, and then "explanations" are created second, based on the data.

They assert their machines arrive at "explanations" (computers programs) which are correct or nearly correct using this inductive approach. This is, at least according to Popperian philosophy, impossible. Here are some reasons:

Any finite set of data is compatible with infinitely many theories. Only one is correct. The machine has no way to judge which theories are better than others. Therefore the machine cannot succeed. (Note: if we did have a theory telling us how to judge which are better than others, that would no longer be induction because all the content would be coming from this theory and not by induction from the data.)

There is no way to generalize data points into a theory. Imagine the data points on a 2-dimensional graph. A theory is a line on the graph (or the function which generates that line, if you prefer). I don't mean a straight line, it can curve around or whatever. A theory *consistent with the data* would have to go through every point. There are infinitely many ways to draw such a line. Any portion of the line between any two points, or after the last point, or before the first, can go absolutely anywhere you feel like on the graph at your whim while remaining fully *consistent with the data*. The points can be connected in any order. The data points provide no useful restrictions at all on which theories (lines) are possible. (IIRC this argument is in _The Logic of Scientific Discovery_).

Some people would say you should draw the most smooth line between the points, and avoid the bendy ones. This kind of sounds nice in English. But it's not so easy when you deal with real theories, especially philosophical theories. What is the smooth line to tell me the right theory about the morality of stealing? But also consider a field which has lights which are turned off at 6am, and turned on at 6pm, every day. If you make observations at noon and midnight daily, and draw straight lines between the data points, you will predict the lights are partially on in between your observations, which is wrong. When it comes down to it, no one has ever made a general purpose theory of this sort (draw the smooth line) which works.

Further, the smooth line theory involves having a *theory first* (about the type of line most likely to correspond to a true theory), and then making guesses *based on the theory* and interpreting the data in light of the theory. So it's not really induction anymore.

In other words, because (following Popper) induction does not work, the inductive inference machine will not work.


In the paper's abstract it asserts the way the induction machines are "Popperian" is that they make use of Popper's "refutability principle". Later the paper says:

Karl Popper has enunciated the principle that scientific explanations ought to be subject to refutation[23]. Most of this paper concerns restrictions on the machines requiring them to output explanations which can be refuted.

Unfortunately the word "explanation" in Popper's principle has a different meaning than the "explanations" which the machines output. In fact they are not creating any explanations at all in Popper's sense. So their machines do not follow his principle (except perhaps by loose analogy or metaphor).

Their sense of "explanation" is a correct program, i.e. one that can *predict* data points. But Popper's idea of an explanation is an English statement to *explain the underlying phenomenon*, not just to make predictions. The idea that scientific explanations are nothing more than instruments for making predictions is *instrumentalism*. You can find criticism of instrumentalism in _The Fabric of Reality_ chapter 1. Also in Popper (various places, like OK p 64-65).

The paper also talks about the reliability of their inductive inference machines. Their approach is justificationist. They attempt to *establish* the reliability of some knowledge (not as absolutely certain truth, just as reliable/partially-certain/supported/weakly-justified whatever you want to call it). This is anti-Popperian. They do not provide criticism of Popper's arguments on the subject.

http://philosophy.suite101.com/article.cfm/critical_rationalism

One of Popper's students at the London School of Economics was William Warren Bartley III. According to Rafe Champion, Bartley, along with Popper, recognizes "the authoritarian way of thinking which charactorizes Western thought.

The author understands that Popper was opposed to authoritarian ways of thinking.

What he doesn't understand is that citing Rafe Champion as an authority on what Popper and Bartley's positions are is itself an instance of authoritarian thought. And a very archetypical one at that.

Having a philosophical debate, and seeing it through to a conclusion, takes a lot of patience. People rarely concede -- or explain why they are correct in a way you find clear and persuasive -- as quickly as you might like. This falls under "communication is hard".

Having patience yourself is not enough. Many people will start to feel a debate is repetitive, or that if you aren't starting to concede then you aren't listening. They give up.

Some other factors that lead to people giving up include: the discussion is long and they can't keep track of it anymore (and they don't reread, and they especially don't reread their own contributions); part of the debate hinges on some subtle distinction, but before understanding it they don't see the point of it, so they think you're splitting hairs; the discussion causes them to face their own lack of skill at thinking and expressing themself clearly, which makes them feel bad and become frustrated; or they are not optimistic about reaching an agreement if one does not come "naturally" (in a quick and intuitive-feeling way), so why bother spending time talking more?

Telling people about how they should have more patience, in the middle of discussions about an unrelated topic like physics, distracts from the issue at hand. It increases the number of statements but without making any progress on the issue the two people were both interested in and trying to discuss. This sort of meta-discussion makes conversations take longer, not shorter, to reach an agreement, and it brings up new topics which people aren't necessarily interested in. It also makes the conversation more personal, and can put people on the defensive (which I don't blame them for; their personal attributes are not relevant and the other guy shouldn't be making negative comments about them). As a consequence of lengthening the discussion without making on-topic progress, meta-discussion about patience reduces the success rate.

So if people haven't got enough patience and optimism to see a conversation through to a conclusion, and giving them (what they will feel is) a lecture about patience will only make things worse, then what is one to do? Only talk to people who understand-in-advance how to discuss well? Only talk to people who are so strongly interested and motivated that they will be driven to continue for years even if the amount of progress they can detect is very small?

This problem comes up if one wants to persuade people, or to have fruitful conversations. I don't know its solution. Do you?

Writing clearly, and thinking about philosophical topics rigorously, are learned skills. No one is born with them. There is no shame in ignorance; the important thing is what one chooses to do about it. If the topics one hopes to write or think about are far beyond one's current capabilities, that's OK. One can improve.

Writing well is not just a matter of spending time and effort. Sitting down for 5 hours and expending great force of will is insufficient. One has to understand how to direct that effort; extensive knowledge about how to think and write well is required.

To create this knowledge involves a process of continuous self-improvement. One needs to care deeply about improving and always -- every day for years -- be on the lookout for ways to improve, and be implementing and refining strategies designed to learn and improve. [1]

Trying to learn to think and write well involves frequently making an effort to think and write well. Thoughtful writing is a byproduct.

On the other hand, writing without making a thoughtful effort is incompatible with always striving to learn and to write better. Writing shoddy posts indicates that one doesn't care strongly about bettering oneself in this area. [2]

[1] There are further requirements. For example, one must treat ideas and disagreements in such a way that if he is mistaken, he may find this out and change his mind. However, making an effort to learn and improve involves investigating what approaches are effective. Thus one can learn the further requirements early on in the process and doesn't have to know them in advance.

[2] People often make excuses. They are busy, they were just having a bad day, they could do better but they didn't give it their best effort, or emotions clouded their judgment. The fact is that everyone faces obstacles and encounters problems. Excuses are used by people with a victimhood mentality, who'd rather have something to blame than work on a solution. People whose top priority is to better themselves do not make excuses or denials; instead they try to overcome their problems and when they fail they try again and brainstorm ways to do better next time.

I think the majority of people who say they agree with Popper read him like this:

Popper says there is no verification or justification. They think "That sounds stupid. I must have misread it. Let me try to find a better interpretation." (And, by the way, if they didn't know to do that in advance, they might well learn it while reading Popper, since he's a big advocate of seeking the best possible version of arguments one encounters.)

So, they try to think of a way to change Popper's statements about epistemology to be more reasonable. They end up interpreting his statements to be consistent with the only epistemology that makes any sense to them: the prevailing one.

And so they go through the whole book interpreting everything Popper says as advocating justificationism, induction, and the theory that knowledge is justified, true belief.

They perhaps take Popper to be making some critiques of it, for example they might notice Popper denies that infallible justifications are possible, but overall they take him to fundamentally agree with justificationism. What else could he be saying? As far as they can see, it's the only possible, conceivable approach to epistemology. One can't disagree with it; it's the manifest truth of how to think. Anyone who disagrees with it wouldn't be able to think; he'd end up in an insane asylum.

Let me emphasize: I think a majority of people who claim to agree with Popper do not. That's how hard communication and persuasion are, and how different two people who think they "agree" often are. Popper knew people are different and persuasion is hard, but I don't think he ever said it this strongly.

We The Living (WTL) by Ayn Rand is a very good book. One always hears about Atlas Shrugged and The Fountainhead. I think those are better, but only by a small margin rather than a large one. WTL deserves attention. (By the way, Anthem is nice too, and only takes about 90 minutes to read.) The rest of this post contains spoilers.

In the introduction it says that Kira is better than Leo or Andrei, and asks which of Andrei or Leo is better. It says Ayn Rand prefers Leo, and that she thinks Leo would be like Francisco D'Anconia if he lived in the USA instead of in Russia.

I disagree. I prefer Andrei. Let's start with Leo: Leo has already largely given up when the book starts, and he gets worse as the book continues. I don't see that Leo did anything impressive in the entire book. I'd note that Kira is attracted to him due to his appearance. Admittedly, in Rand's worlds appearance is a direct indicator of character including heroism, so perhaps when she described his appearance she intended to be telling the reader that he was just like Francisco. But I prefer to judge people by their thoughts and actions, and while Leo is a decent guy sometimes, he never does anything heroic. The closest he comes is buying passage on the boat to try to escape from Russia.

Andrei improves as the book progresses. He learns things. I would say he is the only character in the book who learns much of anything good (some characters learn how to talk like a loyal communist, or other mundane skills). Kira was evidently born heroic. As good as she is, she already had all her merit when the book starts; I think Rand sees having to change as a bit of a weakness, rather than seeing learning as a strength.

My favorite part of WTL is when Kira confesses to Andrei that she slept with him to get money for Leo's medical treatment and that she didn't love him. In particular I like Andrei's reaction. He does not get angry. He does not whine about how his lover betrayed him, and his heart is broken, and all the stuff nearly everyone would say. That alone is wonderful. But Andrei does considerably better than that. He reacts by stopping to think. He doesn't say anything except "I didn't know" until he's thought about it. He's calm and collected even as Kira continues her mean rant. That's great too. But then the really amazing thing is that within minutes of finding all this out, and with Kira fully unapologetic, he has not only forgiven her, but praised her for doing it, said he would have done the same thing, and said it vastly raised his opinion of her. When he found out she was living and sleeping with Leo, what bothered him was not the betrayal but that the best explanation he could think of involved her being a bad person.

Sidenote: Why would that indicate to Andrei that Kira is a bad person? Andrei considers Leo a bad person, so why would Kira want to be involved with him? And also, why would Kira want Andrei's money? Why would she want to take advantage of him? Is she just a whore and a sort of thief? That is incompatible with being heroic.

So when Andrei finds out the truth, that Kira had good reasons, he realizes she was in fact a better person than he'd ever known. She did something very hard, but also important. She epitomizes the heroic values he liked about her even more for doing it. And Andrei recognizes all this right away and is glad about it. That is in many ways even harder than what Kira did. Think about it. A lot of people could lead a double life if they were motivated enough. Nothing about it is really too complicated. But what Andrei did, staying calm and reacting to emotional news in a rational way, most people couldn't even begin to do that. They have no idea how to do it, or even how to start learning to do it.

To sum up: Andrei has this very exceptional moment, and he is the character who learns and improves over the course of the book. That's why I prefer him to Leo. By contrast, Leo lets his life get worse and worse until he gives up and no longer wants to try or think.

The worst thing about Andrei was his suicide. He could have remained friends with Kira, and looked for ways to turn his life around, such as going abroad (even without Kira), or helping anti-communist resistance. Note that if he'd been alive longer, he would have been around when Leo left and Kira decided to escape, and she would have accepted his offer to escape together at that point.

Leo has a lot of serious flaws. He despairs, he doesn't want to think, he wastes money, he turns to crime knowing he's putting his life at serious risk, he doesn't value his life, he befriends bad people, and he mistreats Kira. Leo has a different reaction than Andrei when he finds out about Kira's double life. Andrei reacts heroically. Leo reacts despicably. Leo thinks worse of Kira, and then says he's glad for her to be worse. The worse a person Kira is, the better, is Leo's view. He doesn't want there to be any good in the world, so when he turns his back on good he's less guilty. That's just terrible.

On to Kira. She fails to improve things, but she never gives up, so it's alright. Actually Kira does improve her life in one major way. She forms a relationship with Andrei, and then helps him improve. The more he improves, the better a friend she has in her life. Unfortunately she doesn't recognize this. By the way, I think she should accepted Andrei's offer to go abroad. It would have improved her life! She only stayed for Leo. Self-sacrifice is bad. I know she wanted Leo in her life for her own sake, but he wasn't making her life wonderful, and she should have noticed that and taken the superior opportunity. Note that it would have quite possibly saved both her own life and Andrei's life.

One of the great parts about Kira is the stuff she doesn't notice. Near the beginning of the book her family complains about their poor clothes and poor food. Kira comments that she hadn't noticed. Kira does not think of hardships just like when Roark comments that he doesn't think about Toohey. Kira instead focusses on pursuing her goals and living her life, which is great.

I like Kira's escape attempt because it was her pursuing her values. I like her interest in engineering. I like how she insists on living life her own way. For example, she enrolls in engineering classes against her family's wishes, and she goes to live with Leo even though her family will disown her for it (they forgive her when they are hungry and she has more money than them). By the way, I also like Vasili Ivanovitch, the relative who sells all his possessions but refuses to get a Soviet job.

Kira demonstrates her strength and perseverance by her escape attempt, by maintaining her double life, by never giving up, and by making a great effort to get and keep a job, to wait in all the lines, and so on. Those are the things she has to do to continue her life, so she does them, and she doesn't complain incessantly or turn her mind off or let it destroy her spirit, she just does it and keeps living like a full person, almost like a free person. She also demonstrates it strikingly when Leo leaves. She chooses not to tell him why she slept with Andrei, or where the money for his medicine really came from. A lot of people would be angry with Leo and tell him out of spite. A lot of people would tell him and say it was the truth as an excuse. A lot of people would tell him without even thinking about it first. But Kira is better than that. She judges that Leo is lost to her, so there is no point in telling him. She further judges that Leo does not want to know. Not telling people things they don't want to be told is a good policy. It's respectful of their life; it's living by consent.

Kira stands up to the communists at times. Not in a sacrificial or suicidal way like Sasha (Irina's boyfriend; they are sent to separate camps in Siberia), but only by way of expressing her values and living in the way she wants to. That is nice. Sasha gives up his life for a cause. Kira values her life more than he does. She doesn't want to be a martyr. In one scene Kira considers sacrificing herself to do a good deed. She's in a communist march/parade, and some foreigners are visiting to see Soviet propaganda, and she could run up to them and tell them the truth about Russia. But she thinks of her life with Leo, and doesn't want to give that up, and she puts that ahead of communicating this important truth which has the potential to save every oppressed Russian. Good for her.

People who care about their life try to better themselves.

By me, partially inspired by Ayn Rand in We The Living.

It sounds pretty obvious. Here's why it's important:

People often, for a wide variety of reasons, do not give learning their best effort. I knew these people do not care about truth-seeking and creating knowledge as much as Popper or I do. But I hadn't made the connection before that what they don't care about, at root, is their own life, in the way Rand cares about life. Life is not precious to them; they aren't dead set on making the most of it.

When someone is careless and wasteful during their own free time, they are disrespecting their own life. When people decide some of their problems are too hard and permanently give up on solving them, and try to be content settling for less, what they are really giving up on is life.