epistemaulogies

The Münchhausen Trilemma

I want to start by saying we are in a very gaslighting era. Agreed-upon “truths” have been replaced with Colbert-style “truthiness” driven, in large part, by what I described in my earlier post, this dogmatic epistemology that posits whatever the rich and powerful say is true because they are still rich and powerful. So I really don't mean the timing of this next idea to deepen that sense of “we can never really know anything.” Bear with me!

That said... how do you know what you know? How often do you sit down and think about how the precepts you trust made it into your own personal hall of knowledge? I think about it all the time, and the thing that made me tiresome is the Münchhausen Trilemma, also known as Agrippa's Principles (though those include two more “modes” which I don't really find useful).

The Münchhausen trilemma describes all the ways philosophers, specifically epistemologists, can think of to “prove” truths. When asked if something is true, generally someone will give evidence. But then it becomes reasonable to question THAT evidence, and the evidence for THAT evidence, etc. I think of this process like being a two-year-old: But why? But why?

The three ways to resolve the endless chain of questioning – parents, you're probably familiar with this – are circular reasoning (A is true because B, and B is true because A), ad infinitum (infinite) regression (A is true because B, B is true because C, etc. etc.), or a dogmatic assertion (“because!”).

None of those conclusions are typically how we think a “truth” should be established; in fact, generally each of those conclusions is considered a fault in reasoning. That's why the trilemma is named after German folklore of a man pulling himself out of a quagmire by his own bootstraps (itself a common fallacy nowadays). Of course, the secret fourth conclusion is simply that we don't know, and therefore the Münchhausen trilemma can mean one of two things:

1) We can't know anything; 2) The justifications we have for truths are logically unsatisfying.

Even though it seems like annoying philosophers prefer the first option, most epistemology is built off of sects who basically take the second statement as a starting point and then argue that the issues with their chosen solution – the infinite line, the loop, or the axiom – are trivial or can be solved or minimized by mental gymnastics.

For me, the trilemma has led me down three related paths of thought: Sophism (truth is agreed-upon?), dualism (our inability to resolve Truth stems from, or mirrors, our struggles to resolve the material world from an immaterial mind?), and deconstruction (all knowledge is metaphor?). Hence, many of my most annoying traits.

When I first learned of the trilemma I remember trying it with 2+2=4 (a classic) and the existence of atoms. I remember being struck not only that some of these foundational Truths were indeed infinitely reductive – or reductive until it reached an axiom – but also that I often couldn't regress more than a few principles back before I landed on, “I read this somewhere,” or “it is generally accepted.” Now I won't be studying mathematics to get to the axiom at the end of 2+2=4, but this process has made me attuned to the production of knowledge in each field of thought, which is honestly a fascinating and endlessly curious way to look at the world. (Someday I'll write about Kuhn's The Structure of Scientific Revolution as an excellent application of this curiosity.)

I neither take the trilemma seriously enough to be depressed nor lightly enough to be ignored. Instead, I think it's the most fruitful entry point to examining our own acquisition of knowledge, and from there the production of knowledge from without. By using the trilemma as a simple thought guide, you can start to easily see how much knowledge is persuasion, relativism, or simple dogma. And that's OK – it needn't lead to paralysis. Instead, I think it's actually made me more resilient to times like these where a comfortable common sense has given way to a struggle for ideological supremacy. And neither does it have to mean I don't “believe” in science, or trust physics, or question history – we'll get back to dualism (and I'll write about coherentism).

Try it yourself. Pick a truth, something that feels so fundamental and obvious that it can't be denied, and with applications to your lived experience. Then channel your inner toddler and ask: But why? Until you can't any longer. Where did you land? How did it make you feel? Does it change how you will think?

Thanks for listening.

The Battlefield and the Market

For the last year I, like many others, have become a little obsessed with the logic of the Trump voter. Family members become unreachable and dismissive; the profile of a voter voting against her interests, sometimes knowingly so; the newly political driven by a strange new animus. Pretty often this behavior is described as hypocritical, but I think, even as we say it, we know that doesn't find the mark. Hypocritical belies a kind of knowing subversion, a set of secret rules for thee and not for me. If true it invites shame or denial. But your average U.S. conservative has been placidly weathering these accusations for decades, to say nothing of the escalation of Trumpian rhetoric. “Yes,” they seem to say. “Rules for thee and not for me. What about it?”

In pursuit of this windmill I've started reading The Reactionary Mind by Corey Robin, the kind of political pop theory staid materialists don't usually read. His method for explaining the conservative logos is to close read a selection of reactionary writers and declaimers for clues into underlying forms of thought. Even if I don't think the methodology approaches an understanding of HOW reactionaries are motivated – after all, what describes the general pattern of reactionary movements? how do these ideas spread or renew and why in THOSE populations? – it's remarkably good at defining the problem.

Since the re-election I've been toying with Frank Wilhoit's definition of conservatism, which reflects some of the examples above: “Conservatism consists of exactly one proposition, to wit: There must be in-groups whom the law protects but does not bind, alongside out-groups whom the law binds but does not protect.”

You'll recognize in there some key characteristics of fascism, too, with the out- vs. in-groups. And I do think this definition is a good Occam's Razor for determining whether a policy or proposal is fundamentally conservative. But it still doesn't describe HOW reactionaries acquire and sedately defend this mindset. It's not in their “own words” and even if their logic follows this contour, it's not their logos.

In nearly a throwaway paragraph, which I think mainly functioned to conclude the first chapter on a grand theoretic and set up the next few chapters on Edmund Burke, Corey Robin provides a much more interesting paradigm. He writes:

“Unlike the feudal past, where power was presumed and privilege inherited, the conservative future envisions a world where power is demonstrated and privilege earned; not in the antiseptic and anodyne halls of the meritocracy, where admission is readily secured... but in the arduous struggle for supremacy. ... The battlefield is the natural proving ground of superiority; there, it is only the soldier, with his wits and weapon, who determines his standing in the world. With time, however, the conservative would find another proving ground in the marketplace.”

Then quoting William Graham Sumner to support his reading: “Liberty is a conquest.” And Burke: “At every step of my progress in life (for in every step was I traversed and opposed), and at every turnpike I met, I was obliged to shew my passport, and again and again to prove my sole title to the honour of being useful to my Country... Otherwise, no rank, no toleration even, for me.”

Now this – this is fruitful epistemology. I was immediately struck, taking notes, of the foreclosure: If the battlefield/marketplace is the natural proving ground of superiority for the conservative it's a recognition of the tyranny of the victor in the construction of history – that's their epistemology. That which is true wins. That which wins is true. That which is false loses and therefore ceases to exist. It is anti-reflection. (Anti-intellectual.) It is purposefully action wthout thought.

The conceit is an anti-logos. Rather than reflective or persuasive argument, the conservative posits a worldview and waits for it to be challenged. In the very fact of still being in power, he is proven correct. Logical, ethical, or emotional challenges are walled outside of the arena, the effect like picketing gladiatorial combat then declaring “Roma victrix.”

And doesn't that just explain how comforting it can be! To not have anxiety over being right – you will either be right or you will be ousted. If you are not ousted – if you still have political and economic power – you are right. (Convenient, too.) Hence the anti-intellectualism, even though plenty of reactionaries are well-schooled, or persuasive, or interested in philosophy; that is simply not how the victor is decided, and therefore it is moot. Thus, too, why Trump and Musk are heralded thinkers despite objective measures; they are not (yet) defeated. They have power, and therefore truth.

The battlefield and the marketplace explains the allure of reactionary thought, it's imperviousness to accusations of hypocrisy (which are so devastating to the internal coherence of liberal thought), and its sneering imperiousness. It's remarkably animalistic, and in fact imbued with the same backwards reading of natural selection that many reactionaries employ to be racist: It persists, therefore it must be fit. It is an epistemology consistent with, and therefore able to solve the cognitive dissonance of, its inequal and unfree policy; and both are a reflection and a reading of the material circumstances that encourage this line of thinking.

At the very least, it gives me a schema for continuing to avoid Facebook arguments with Trumppilled relatives.

More, later, on the Münchhausen trilemma, how these views are propagated (why and how does the son of liberal parents become reactionary?), and maybe what can be done about it.

Thanks for listening.