Uriah Kriegel (Rice University), "Beatrice Edgell’s Myth of the Given"
Forthcoming, British Journal for the History of Philosophy
Hello philosophers. This paper I wrote argues that Sellars’ famed myth of the given was anticipated 40 years earlier by the little-known philosopher and psychologist Beatrice Edgell. Here I use the more lighthearted form of the dialogue to present her main ideas on this. The dialogue’s saddest disadvantage is that it contains no biconditionals and no quantifiers. For that you’ll have to read the paper…
The Dialogue of Bertie and Bea; or, Knowledge by Acquaintance vs. the Myth of the Given
Bea: Hi Bertie. Do you know if Cloe is at the party?
Bertie: Hey. I haven’t seen her, but I think she’s at the party. Can I get you a beer?
Bea: Sure. Why do you think Cloe is at the party?
Bertie: Because I think her best friend Jamie is.
Bea: Why do you think Jamie is at the party?
Bertie: Because I think Jamie’s boyfriend Redknapp is.
Bea: OK, but why do you think that Redknapp is at the party?
Bertie: I can see him right there!
Bea: But how can you be sure that you’re really seeing him? Maybe you’re just hallucinating?
Bertie: Anything’s possible. But I think I am seeing Redknapp.
Bea: What makes you so sure? Have you seen The Matrix?
Bertie: Who said anything about being sure? I said I think I’m seeing Redknapp.
Bea: But why do you think that?
Bertie: You really want me to tell you, or are we doing small talk?
Bea: Tell me, tell me.
Bertie: Grab a chair. So: what I’m really sure of is that I’m visually aware of Redknapp-y sense data: color patches, sounds, and so on. Now, these sense data are each its own guy and in principle could each go do its own thing in the world. But in fact they stick together instead of dispersing. And in general they behave in very predictable ways. What explains this behavior of these sense data? The best explanation, I think, is that there is a real-world Redknapp who “emits” these sense data of which I am aware.
Bea: So let me see if I got this right. In the real world, you say, there is Redknapp over there with his blue tie and his brown cap. But the mind doesn’t have direct access to the tie and cap out there. What the little mind is directly aware of is a tie-shaped homogeneous blue sense datum, a cap-shaped homogeneous brown sense datum, and all those other sense data there. And the little mind notices that all these sense data travel together, and on this basis reverse-engineers how the world must be for it to receive the sense data it does. Is that what you’re saying?
Bertie: Exactly!
Bea: But let me ask you this. How can you be so sure about the sense data? Maybe there’s an evil demon playing tricks on you there too.
Bertie: Not possible. Of the sense data I have knowledge by acquaintance. That gives me complete and perfect grasp of them.
Bea: Wow, “complete and perfect grasp.” What is this wonderful thing called “knowledge by acquaintance” that gives you that? I want some.
Bertie: You have a lot of it. You have knowledge by acquaintance of Bertie-y sense data right now.
Bea: What is this “knowledge by acquaintance”?
Bertie: I’m happy to explain but I need to get a beer first.
Bea: Go for it.
Bertie: You need anything?
Bea: I’m good.
Bertie: So, first of all, I think there’s a distinction between two kinds of knowledge: knowledge of truths and knowledge of things. I know that the mayor got reelected – that’s knowledge of a truth. But I also just know the mayor. That’s knowledge of a thing.
Bea: Okay, but is it really the same sense of “know”?
Bertie: I’m not saying it is. I’m just saying there are two different epistemic relations we can bear to stuff: one that we bear to truths and one that we bear to things.
Bea: So which one is knowledge by acquaintance?
Bertie: I’m getting there! Let’s now look at knowledge of things. I say there is also a useful distinction between knowledge of things that presupposes knowledge of truths and knowledge of things that doesn’t presuppose knowledge of things.
Bea: Give me some examples.
Bertie: Okay, imagine two people who know the mayor but only one of them knows that she is the mayor. This person knows the mayor as the mayor. The other person knows the mayor but doesn’t know her as the mayor, because she doesn’t know that she is the mayor. I call “knowledge by acquaintance” the knowledge of things that only the more ignorant person has, and “knowledge by description” the knowledge of things that the other person has – the one who knows the mayor as the mayor.
Bea: The relevant description being “the mayor”. . .
Bertie: Right! So that’s why I call “knowledge by acquaintance”: the kind of knowledge had by the person who knows the mayor but doesn’t know that she is the mayor.
Bea: Okay, so both know the mayor, but one knows her by acquaintance whereas the other knows her by description.
Bertie: Actually, on my view both know the mayor by acquaintance; it’s just that one of them also knows her by description – whereas the other one doesn’t.
Bea: I thought you said knowledge by acquaintance is knowledge of things that doesn’t presuppose knowledge of truths. But knowing the mayor as the mayor presupposes knowing that they are the mayor – no?
Bertie: Yes, it does. That’s why this person has knowledge by description. But that doesn’t mean they don’t have knowledge by acquaintance of the mayor too – a kind of pure acquaintance with the mayor that doesn’t yet apply any description to her.
Bea: Well, they would have to at least know the mayor as a woman, or as a person.
Bertie: What do you mean “have to”? They certainly do know that she’s a person. That gives them knowledge by description of the mayor as a person. But in addition, I claim, they have a pure acquaintance with the thing itself – the mayor – without applying any description to that thing. If they didn’t, they wouldn’t know what to apply the description to.
Bea: Ah, I see. So what does a person know when they know a thing without knowing it as anything?
Bertie: They just know the thing. That’s all there is.
Bea: How is this knowledge?
Bertie: Because you know something.
Bea: What do you know?
Bertie: The thing.
Bea: Hmm, that’s weird. Suppose you know this thing, which happens to be the mayor, but don’t know of it that it is the mayor, that it is a woman, that it is a person, or anything else. Okay. Wouldn’t you still need to know of it that it is a thing? Wouldn’t you need to know to know the thing as a thing?
Bertie: What do you mean?
Bea: You need to know that it is a separate entity, that it’s its own thing so to speak. Have you read all this new stuff about Gestalt psychology?
Bertie: I’ve heard of it, but haven’t had time to check it out yet. What’s the story there?
Bea: There are these psychologists in Germany who claim that first we perceive wholes and then the mind needs to do some work to separate out the different parts of the whole.
Bertie: So?
Bea: So, if this is right, when I look over there I don’t immediately see a tie-shaped blue sense datum. What I’m aware of immediately is a big fuzzy intricately structured single sense datum, and the little mind needs to do something to separate out the tie-shaped blue sense datum. Only when it does you come to know the sense datum, but by then you know it as its own separate thing. So you do know it as something. There’s no such thing as knowing something that’s just given to you and you don’t do anything in the knowing of it. The minimal thing you have to do is separate it out as its own thing.
Bertie: So what do you think about knowledge by acquaintance? It’s by definition knowledge of something that’s just given, without us “doing anything” with it.
Bea: I regard “knowledge by acquaintance” as a myth invented by epistemology.
Bertie: Wait. Suppose these Gestalt psychologists are right. So I am aware of a single super-complicated, super-structured sense datum. Still, part of my awareness is awareness of the tie-shaped homogeneous blue sense datum. It’s part of what I’m aware of. And I could be aware of it without separating it out.
Bea: So in this case you would know a thing without even knowing that it is a thing?
Bertie: Right. You’ve convinced me that this has to be what knowledge by acquaintance involves – knowing a thing without even knowing it as a thing.
Bea: I just can’t for the life of me see how this is knowledge.
Bertie: Why not? Are there rules about what counts as knowledge that this somehow breaks?
Bea: I don’t know. Something that’s knowledge should be able to make some difference to the epistemic life of a person, no?
Bertie: Well I think acquaintance with sense data makes a huge difference to our epistemic life – it’s the basis of all our knowledge of the external world.
Bea: Even if acquaintance with a sense datum doesn’t even distinguish that sense datum from the rest of reality?
Bertie: Yes, even so. Why – is that a problem?
Bea: Okay, tell me what you think about this. Imagine a little kid sits by the window on Monday and suddenly sees a flash of lightning. It’s the first they’ve ever seen. Then and there they get a 2-second flashy sense datum.
Bertie: Okay.
Bea: Then on Tuesday the exact same thing happens – and I mean exact same thing. Exactly the same flash of lightning, witnessed from exactly the same angle, in exactly the same illumination conditions, etc. Now, even though the flash of lightning is exactly the same, the Tuesday experience will feel a bit different from the Monday experience, and more importantly, it will have some epistemic force that the Monday one doesn’t.
Bertie: How so?
Bea: First of all it will involve a feeling of “that again” on Tuesday that it didn’t have on Monday.
Bertie: Right.
Bea: And the Tuesday experience will justify the kid in believing something like “this is like that other thing was”, or even something like “these things I saw are instances of a more general phenomenon” – beliefs the Monday experience couldn’t possibly justify.
Bertie: Go on.
Bea: Well, this Tuesday experience can have this extra epistemic force only insofar as it’s an experience of the lightning as “that thing again” – a kind of knowledge by description. As pure acquaintance the Monday experience and the Tuesday experience are identical, since the flash of lightening is the identical and pure acquaintance doesn’t apply any concept or description to its object. So it looks like all the epistemic force the Tuesday experience has comes entirely from the bit that’s not included in pure acquaintance.
Bertie: Very interesting.
Bea: You see, this is why I’m saying that pure acquaintance is not a form of knowledge: it doesn’t properly enter the epistemic life of the person.
Bertie: Very interesting. You know, everything you say resembles a lot what Wilfrid Sellars says about what he calls the “myth of the given.” Have you read his famous paper – “Empiricism and the Philosophy of Mind”?
Bea: I would have liked to, but I died 15 years before it was published.
Bertie: Oh right, silly me. Well, it made a big splash. I think Wilf is here at the party – would you like to meet him?
Bea: Sure. Maybe we can compare notes.
Bertie: In any case, I must say that however compelling your argument is, I’m convinced there must be some way to leverage knowledge by acquaintance to ground knowledge of truths. There’s no other way to get epistemic justification going.
Bea: Perhaps, but I don’t see how.
Bertie: Well, I heard that the author of this dialogue, the dialogue in which we are the characters, has written another paper – “Knowledge-by-Acquaintance First” – in which he tries to pull this off. I need to read it.
Bea: Is he at the party? Maybe we could look for him.
Bertie: No, he hasn’t arrived yet. Should be another few years.
END
Of course, Hegel's argument against the Given precedes them both by over two centuries...and Peirce's by a few decades. And Dewey was making similar arguments in the mid-1910s. ;) None of this negates the value of finding these arguments in Edgell's work, of course! It adds to the rich history of such arguments, in fact, and shows that there is a tradition of thought here that has long been opposed to immediate knowledge from mere sensory acquiantance.