The Analysis of Mind - Bertrand Russell (brene brown rising strong .TXT) 📗
- Author: Bertrand Russell
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reference to an object, it is then natural to suppose that there
is some peculiar kind of mental content of which the object is a
universal, as oppose to a particular. According to this view, a
particular cat can be PERceived or imagined, while the universal
“cat” is CONceived. But this whole manner of viewing our dealings
with universals has to be abandoned when the relation of a mental
occurrence to its “object” is regarded as merely indirect and
causal, which is the view that we have adopted. The mental
content is, of course, always particular, and the question as to
what it “means” (in case it means anything) is one which cannot
be settled by merely examining the intrinsic character of the
mental content, but only by knowing its causal connections in the
case of the person concerned. To say that a certain thought
“means” a universal as opposed to either a vague or a particular,
is to say something exceedingly complex. A horse will behave in a
certain manner whenever he smells a bear, even if the smell is
derived from a bearskin. That is to say, any environment
containing an instance of the universal “smell of a bear”
produces closely similar behaviour in the horse, but we do not
say that the horse is conscious of this universal. There is
equally little reason to regard a man as conscious of the same
universal, because under the same circumstances he can react by
saying, “I smell a bear.” This reaction, like that of the horse,
is merely closely similar on different occasions where the
environment affords instances of the same universal. Words of
which the logical meaning is universal can therefore be employed
correctly, without anything that could be called consciousness of
universals. Such consciousness in the only sense in which it can
be said to exist is a matter of reflective judgment consisting in
the observation of similarities and differences. A universal
never appears before the mind as a single object in the sort of
way in which something perceived appears. I THINK a logical
argument could be produced to show that universals are part of
the structure of the world, but they are an inferred part, not a
part of our data. What exists in us consists of various factors,
some open to external observation, others only visible to
introspection. The factors open to external observation are
primarily habits, having the peculiarity that very similar
reactions are produced by stimuli which are in many respects very
different from each other. Of this the reaction of the horse to
the smell of the bear is an instance, and so is the reaction of
the man who says “bear” under the same circumstances. The verbal
reaction is, of course, the most important from the point of view
of what may be called knowledge of universals. A man who can
always use the word “dog” when he sees a dog may be said, in a
certain sense, to know the meaning of the word “dog,” and IN THAT
SENSE to have knowledge of the universal “dog.” But there is, of
course, a further stage reached by the logician in which he not
merely reacts with the word “dog,” but sets to work to discover
what it is in the environment that causes in him this almost
identical reaction on different occasions. This further stage
consists in knowledge of similarities and differences:
similarities which are necessary to the applicability of the word
“dog,” and differences which are compatible with it. Our
knowledge of these similarities and differences is never
exhaustive, and therefore our knowledge of the meaning of a
universal is never complete.
In addition to external observable habits (including the habit of
words), there is also the generic image produced by the
superposition, or, in Semon’s phrase, homophony, of a number of
similar perceptions. This image is vague so long as the
multiplicity of its prototypes is not recognized, but becomes
universal when it exists alongside of the more specific images of
its instances, and is knowingly contrasted with them. In this
case we find again, as we found when we were discussing words in
general in the preceding lecture, that images are not logically
necessary in order to account for observable behaviour, i.e. in
this case intelligent speech. Intelligent speech could exist as a
motor habit, without any accompaniment of images, and this
conclusion applies to words of which the meaning is universal,
just as much as to words of which the meaning is relatively
particular. If this conclusion is valid, it follows that
behaviourist psychology, which eschews introspective data, is
capable of being an independent science, and of accounting for
all that part of the behaviour of other people which is commonly
regarded as evidence that they think. It must be admitted that
this conclusion considerably weakens the reliance which can be
placed upon introspective data. They must be accepted simply on
account of the fact that we seem to perceive them, not on account
of their supposed necessity for explaining the data of external
observation.
This, at any rate, is the conclusion to which. we are forced, so
long as, with the behaviourists, we accept common-sense views of
the physical world. But if, as I have urged, the physical world
itself, as known, is infected through and through with
subjectivity, if, as the theory of relativity suggests, the
physical universe contains the diversity of points of view which
we have been accustomed to regard as distinctively psychological,
then we are brought back by this different road to the necessity
for trusting observations which are in an important sense
private. And it is the privacy of introspective data which causes
much of the behaviourists’ objection to them.
This is an example of the difficulty of constructing an adequate
philosophy of any one science without taking account of other
sciences. The behaviourist philosophy of psychology, though in
many respects admirable from the point of view of method, appears
to me to fail in the last analysis because it is based upon an
inadequate philosophy of physics. In spite, therefore, of the
fact that the evidence for images, whether generic or particular,
is merely introspective, I cannot admit that images should be
rejected, or that we should minimize their function in our
knowledge of what is remote in time or space.
LECTURE XII. BELIEF
Belief, which is our subject to-day, is the central problem in
the analysis of mind. Believing seems the most “mental” thing we
do, the thing most remote from what is done by mere matter. The
whole intellectual life consists of beliefs, and of the passage
from one belief to another by what is called “reasoning.” Beliefs
give knowledge and error; they are the vehicles of truth and
falsehood. Psychology, theory of knowledge and metaphysics
revolve about belief, and on the view we take of belief our
philosophical outlook largely depends.
Before embarking upon the detailed analysis of belief, we shall
do well to note certain requisites which any theory must fulfil.
(1) Just as words are characterized by meaning, so beliefs are
characterized by truth or falsehood. And just as meaning consists
in relation to the object meant, so truth and falsehood consist
in relation to something that lies outside the belief. You may
believe that such-and-such a horse will win the Derby. The time
comes, and your horse wins or does not win; according to the
outcome, your belief was true or false. You may believe that six
times nine is fifty-six; in this case also there is a fact which
makes your belief false. You may believe that America was
discovered in 1492, or that it was discovered in 1066. In the one
case your belief is true, in the other false; in either case its
truth or falsehood depends upon the actions of Columbus, not upon
anything present or under your control. What makes a belief true
or false I call a “fact.” The particular fact that makes a given
belief true or false I call its “objective,”* and the relation of
the belief to its objective I call the “reference” or the
“objective reference” of the belief. Thus, if I believe that
Columbus crossed the Atlantic in 1492, the “objective” of my
belief is Columbus’s actual voyage, and the “reference” of my
belief is the relation between my belief and the voyage—that
relation, namely, in virtue of which the voyage makes my belief
true (or, in another case, false). “Reference” of beliefs differs
from “meaning” of words in various ways, but especially in the
fact that it is of two kinds, “true” reference and “false”
reference. The truth or falsehood of a belief does not depend
upon anything intrinsic to the belief, but upon the nature of its
relation to its objective. The intrinsic nature of belief can be
treated without reference to what makes it true or false. In the
remainder of the present lecture I shall ignore truth and
falsehood, which will be the subject of Lecture XIII. It is the
intrinsic nature of belief that will concern us to-day.
* This terminology is suggested by Meinong, but is not exactly
the same as his.
(2) We must distinguish between believing and what is believed. I
may believe that Columbus crossed the Atlantic, that all Cretans
are liars, that two and two are four, or that nine times six is
fifty-six; in all these cases the believing is just the same, and
only the contents believed are different. I may remember my
breakfast this morning, my lecture last week, or my first sight
of New York. In all these cases the feeling of memory-belief is
just the same, and only what is remembered differs. Exactly
similar remarks apply to expectations. Bare assent, memory and
expectation are forms of belief; all three are different from
what is believed, and each has a constant character which is
independent of what is believed.
In Lecture I we criticized the analysis of a presentation into
act, content and object. But our analysis of belief contains
three very similar elements, namely the believing, what is
believed and the objective. The objections to the act (in the
case of presentations) are not valid against the believing in the
case of beliefs, because the believing is an actual experienced
feeling, not something postulated, like the act. But it is
necessary first to complete our preliminary requisites, and then
to examine the content of a belief. After that, we shall be in a
position to return to the question as to what constitutes
believing.
(3) What is believed, and the believing, must both consist of
present occurrences in the believer, no matter what may be the
objective of the belief. Suppose I believe, for example, “that
Caesar crossed the Rubicon.” The objective of my belief is an
event which happened long ago, which I never saw and do not
remember. This event itself is not in my mind when I believe that
it happened. It is not correct to say that I am believing the
actual event; what I am believing is something now in my mind,
something related to the event (in a way which we shall
investigate in Lecture XIII), but obviously not to be confounded
with the event, since the event is not occurring now but the
believing is. What a man is believing at a given moment is wholly
determinate if we know the contents of his mind at that moment;
but Caesar’s crossing of the Rubicon was an historical physical
event, which is distinct from the present contents of every
present mind. What is believed, however true it may be, is not
the actual fact that makes the belief true, but a present event
related to the fact. This present event, which is what is
believed, I shall call the “content” of the belief. We have
already
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