Ambiguity and the "big" problems in philosophy

The German title of the essay is “Wie ist es, eine Fledermaus zu sein?” Literally: “How is it to be a bat?”

And I’m suggesting that your argument from language is unconvincing. My default position is that it doesn’t matter that Nagel uses “like” here, because nobody really thinks he’s asking what other things are like “being a bat”. “What’s it like?” in everyday speech does invite a comparison of some sort, and that’s certainly relevant. But the constellation here is something we’d need to dive in deeper to make sense of. Your invokation of “like” and comparisons here alone doesn’t cut it. It feels like rhetoric to rationalise a pre-existing conclusion rather than problem solving.

And the problem is not ambiguity, since I’m reading “what it’s like” more like an idiom in this context (it’s not an idiom, but the usuage feels kind of idiomatic - I know I’m being vague).

I’m suggesting that incompatibilities in world views combined with a common stock of words can stabilise as predictable disagreement. One person’s pseudo-problem is another person’s deeply interesting topic.

So, for example, when I read:

I thought: “Yes, that’s another way to put it,” and it loses none of its intrigue. The wording simply didn’t matter here. However, that’s an instinctive reaction, and it’s hard to put in words just what is interesting me about it. There’s a whole world view behind it, here, and I’m not sure I’m aware of everything.

I might still be missing something, and you might be onto something: but I agree with the rephrasing, and the interest doesn’t vanish. Rather, the difference in phrasing seems trivial to me. See what I mean? You seem to assume that “to experience the world as a bat, you have to be a bat,” is philosophically uniteresting, but it’s not to me. The sentence itself expresses a banal fact, sure, but it’s tied into a core discontent of mine: the limits of empathy, for one. (How to express telepathy in fiction, for another. And so on.)

So to experience the world as a bat, you have to be a bat, sure. But why? And what does this say about the world we live in? How does the world partition itself into discrete experiential units? I’m locked out of something: what is it that I’m locked out of. What experiential worlds am I missing out on? (Lots.)

So again, the question is posed without an implied comparison involving “like” in English.

But “how is it” is an interesting phrase too! A common English salutation is “How are you?” We mean (when it’s more than a pleasantry), “How goes it with you? How are you faring? How’s the day for you?” I wouldn’t object to that being paraphrased as “What is it like to be you (today)?” In English, when we start to ask into experiences, especially those that don’t lend themselves to verbal encapsulation, we often move into using “like” constructions. But I see no evidence at all that we’re asking for a comparison of some sort.

Maybe “How is it to be a bat?” is similar: “What is the experience of being a bat?” A related question, which I think Nagel also uses, though I could be wrong, is “Is it like anything to be X?” So, when the X is a bat, we want to answer, “Yes, certainly.” When the X is a rock, most of us shrug our shoulders or just say, “No.” The topic of discussion, with “Is it like anything to be X?” is clearly meant to be experience itself: “If you were a bat, would you have experiences?” (yes) “If you were a rock, would you have experiences?” (no). Going on to ask what those experiences are, and whether any part of them is uniquely subjective, takes us to the “How is it?” or “What is it like?” question.

I could interpret your post to imply that rhetorical1 questions (philosophical, metaphysical) are “dishonest”, and inherently ambiguous, while definitive (scientific, physical) questions are honest, and explicit. Was that your intention?

Ironically, post-enlightenment Science, at first, focused on questions with clear objective answers : Classical Physics. But, over time, the clarity of precise mathematical physics became muddled by metaphysical ambiguity. For example, Maxwell’s notion of ElectroMagnetic Fields was non-local, neither here nor there but spread-out in space. Then, 20th century Quantum Physics discovered that the foundations of reality are not particular and definitive, as previously assumed, but inherently non-local, probabilistic, and ambiguous2.

Is the location or trajectory of an electron a “rhetorical” question, simply because of the uncertainty3 in the answers? Was the "philosophical turn"4 in physics a sign of dishonesty? Or simply the acknowledgement of the innate ambiguity of reality? Is a bat’s worldview qualitatively (rhetorically) different from a man’s experience? How can we honestly quantify that difference? :slightly_smiling_face:

1. Platonic Idealism: Plato viewed rhetoric with extreme suspicion. In dialogues like Gorgias, he argued that rhetoric is a manipulative tool that distracts from objective truth. To Plato, philosophy was the only path to ultimate reality, while rhetoric was mere flattery.
https://www.google.com/search?client=firefox-b-1-d&q=philosophy+rhetorical

2. Quantum physics ambiguity refers to the fundamental fuzziness of the subatomic world. Particles do not have definite properties like position or velocity until they are observed. Instead, they exist in a mix of multiple states simultaneously. The very act of measuring a particle forces its blurry wave of probabilities to “collapse” into a single, concrete reality.
https://www.google.com/search?q=quantum+physics+ambiguity&client=firefox-b-1

3. In physics, ambiguity refers to situations where a system, term, or measurement allows for multiple valid interpretations, mathematical representations, or outcomes. Unlike uncertainty (which is a quantifiable lack of precision), ambiguity means distinct, fundamentally different answers or states are simultaneously possible.
(Google Search)

4. The “philosophical turn” in physics refers to a historical and ongoing shift where physicists rely on foundational, conceptual, and metaphysical arguments—rather than immediate empirical testing—to solve the field’s deepest mysteries, such as the nature of quantum mechanics, time, and gravity.
https://www.google.com/search?client=firefox-b-1-d&q=philosophical+turn+in+physics

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Yeah, I’d say the following exchange is fairly rote:

A: Oh, you were there! What was it like?
B: It was great! I had lots of fun.

This isn’t a comparision. It’s an evaluation followed by an effect. And yet it’s an entirely appropriate answer. The “like” simply doesn’t explicitly invite a comparison, even if a reply involving a comparison would be an acceptable answer, too:

A: Oh, you were there! What was it like?
B: Remember [event X]? It was like that, only bigger, almost overwhelming…

That’s a very interesting way of asking these things. I particularly like the wording of the sentence I italicized.

We aren’t.

Language is definitely an issue. I like to think of it as “What does it feel like to be a bat?” Not what does it feel like physically, although that’s part of it. Not what does it feel like emotionally, although that’s part of it. I mean the overall feeling of being (in my case) a living human. Maybe “the human experience” is good, but it probably needs to be explained every time.

The project is too big. I’ll drop the two papers here, and see what they catch.

Kaplan.demonstratives-2.pdf (3.8 MB)

Attitudes_De_Dicto_and_De_Se.pdf (7.0 MB)

I really should have left the comparison part out. It was a side note. As I note in the next sentence, what we usually interpret it to mean is some combination of “What does it feel like to be a bat” and “What is it to be a bat”. The flaw is that it ends up treating both questions as if they were only one.

Perhaps you could describe the point of interest here? The rephrasing seems like the answer to the request “could you give me an example of a truism”.

It doesn’t say anything about the world. It’s logically implied. It’s like saying “In order to run up the hill, you must be at the hill.” The conclusion is contained in the premise.

I don’t think it does. That’s an assumption for which I see no evidence.

This framing is problematic. I assume we agree that there isn’t literally a different world for every experience, right? So what is it you think you’re locked out of? How do you know? If you find what looks like a locked door, it doesn’t follow that there’s a room on the other side.

Not necessarily. I think there is value in rhetorical questions, but it is a problem to treat them as if they we “honest” questions… questions that are actually requesting an answer, and to which an answer could in principle satisfy the terms of the question. I think confusing one with the other leads us down some strange, and not very useful roads.

Of course not. It can be satisfied in principle, if not in practice. Unless perhaps it is posed from one particle physicist to another who both, aware of the beliefs of the other, were certain that it wasn’t answerable in principle… in which case it is rhetorical. I’m not as certain about the consensus and degrees of confidence that are held in that field to say.

I think you are using “ambiguity” differently here than I am. Reality is uncertain, difficult to apprehend, and it’s possible that those qualities are actually built into the fabric (it’s also possible that reality is perfectly understandable in principle, we just don’t currently understand it).

None of that has anything to do with what I’m talking about. I’m talking about making statements, or posing questions that are sufficiently vague as to allow or encourage unintended and unjustified logical implications. The simple and banal version is “when did you stop beating your wife?”, where the “hidden” assumption smuggled in by the question is really obvious. With the examples I am suggesting, the assumptions and implications are far more subtle and better hidden (or the perfectly intelligent people who made them would have noticed).

I tried a more comprehensive reply, but I ended up with nonsense. So here’s just to the final paragraph:

Right.

[quote]So what is it you think you’re locked out of? How do you know? If you find what looks like a locked door, it doesn’t follow that there’s a room on the other side.
[/quote]

Any world-view that isn’t mine.

The reflexive nature of being aware of being aware is causing problems here. I might as well ask “What is it like to be human,” given that I have – and can only have – a sample of one. That other people “are like me” is an intuitive assumption I can’t help making. I can compare myself to a bat as long as I objectivise myself. That jumble of being “a body” and having a body isn’t something that comes later. By the time we’re aware of being aware, which is a requirement for asking what it’s like to be a bat, the mix is integral to our experience of ourselves.

If we knew what it’s like to be a mammal, for example, and we might because that’s what we are when we classify ourselves, then we know – partly – what it’s like to be a bat. That follows from our going around and assuming we understand other humans better than bats. All this is a mix of forming criteria of closeness and remoteness that’s the basis of how we act. (To be sure, I’m not even convinced we know what it’s like to be ourselves. But the question itself makes sense to me.)

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Ambiguity + others are problematic to philosophizing. In this thread the OP seems unable to determine what Ngael means. He’s found some other source of confusion. To me, maybe I’m simple-minded, Ngael’s question, what is it like to be a bat?, is clear as crystal, captures the point perfectly viz. the dyad (consciousness, experience) or (consciousness, first-personhood) or (consciousness, I’m a bat) :grin:

You’ve touched upon quite an interesting number of scientific situations where ambiguity shows up. These are critical to the OP’s dilemma even if he doesn’t realize it. :smiley:

I just reread my notes on ambiguity and I think “ambi” means both and “guity”??, no idea.

Thanks for your post.

“What does it feel like to be a bat?” The question is absurd, because no one can become one, same as “What does it feel like being God?”.

It is logical and material impossibility.

Hence, the question is not a question in the usual sense. It is rather a statement. The world appears differently to you and bats.

Bats have different sense organ and perceiving capacity. If you think the world appears same to you and to bats, then you are not thinking correctly.

I’m with you. The tactic is possibly unconscious, as in the person isn’t trying to be deaf. But an opportunity to play “linguistic philosophy therapist” takes precedence over hearing the other person as they hear themselves.

Wittgenstein is great, but we need some Bakhtin too. Signs are iterable objects in the world. No one gets to control or even easily access the way they signify for others. The best we can do, if even that, is sincere dialogue that moves into the problem rather than pretending to circumvent it.

Yes !

Any world-view that isn’t mine.

While I largely sympathize with this, those are implications according to you. And hidden assumptions according to you.

The leap from logical to dialogical positivism is the leap out of the metaphysical pretense of god’s logic. Otherwise empirical, they were theological/metaphysical about the medium, which they pretended to own.

A foolosopher can always blame the failure of communication on the other person, appealing to “universal norms” that are nevertheless necessarily personally appropriated. If the goal is really to escape the seminary, this vanity too must be tossed on the bonfire.

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I do not think that, and never suggested it.

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It wasn’t meant to denote or point at “you”. It was “you” in the general sense of speaking. :slight_smile:
It was just a passing comment on your post because it was talking about “bats”. Apologies for the ambiguity.

When we are talking here, aren’t we sharing our world-views? Isn’t this discussion, and many discussions that? If not, what the heck are we doing? If you’re locked out of my world view, how can you possibly know that these symbols on the screen mean something and aren’t arbitrary marks?

I’m curious. What’s the difference between the claim “That other people “are like me” is an intuitive assumption I can’t help making.” and the claim “That other people “are like me” is so blatantly obvious that it barely deserves reflecting upon”? Would it be sensible to say of the principle of identity or non-contradiction that they are “an intuitive assumption I can’t help making” rather than the foundations of reasoning? I really think you’ve put the cart before the horse here.

Might it be the basis of how we act because it makes sense to act that way? You seem to be suggesting that all reasoning is arbitrary. That there is no good reason to assume that if we are structurally similar, we would be functionally similar. How do you arrive at this?

What on earth might you mean by “know what it’s like to be ourselves” in this formulation? What would satisfy the condition of knowing what it’s like to be ourself?

Well yes. That’s why I wrote them rather than someone else. Although I know I’m not the only one who holds this position, so it isn’t only according to me.

I’m really not sure specifically what problem you have here. I have a rhetorical style that might strike you in an unpleasant way. Granted, if I’m doing something wrong, I’m willing to hear criticism, and reflect on it, but that discussion is functionally ad hominem, and doesn’t actually address the content of my claims.

If you have honest critiques about my rhetorical style, please message me about them, and I will consider them with as open a mind and as much humility as I can muster. Apart from that, can we stick to the actual substance of the questions at hand?

Ah. Sorry about that. :rofl:

I would say the big problems in philosophy are possibly solved, and are not just philosophers being ambiguous.

It would be a big jump, and a lot of our premises need to change.

If we solved morality- we’d be secure in the discussions of the concept- a depiction of this jump.

Problem is we don’t solve anything; we discuss, and in a month or so we’ll have the exact same discussion.

It’s important for philsophers to make progress.