A past post on the Experimental Philosophy blog asks about the history of the phrase “experimental philosophy,” and notes an interesting passage from 18th century animal-insemination expert Lazzaro Spallanzani:
Thus did I succeed in fecundating this quadraped; and I can truly say that I have never received greater pleasure upon any occasion since I have cultivated experimental philosophy.
In this spirit, I thought I would share my favorite fictional “experimental philosophy” passage. From The Last Witchfinder, by James Morrow:
“Didst perchance catch their animal servants?” the cleanser asked….
“We bagged Mrs. Whittle’s beastie, aye, as plump a toad as e’er licked a witch’s happy sack.”
“Hear me now,” Walter said. “My sister-in-law will lay down two crowns for that selfsame toad, as she wishes to anatomize it according to the new experimental philosophy. If I give you half the payment, might I take the creature with me?”
Although this next passage doesn’t use the phrase, it does describe a rather unique experiment in philosophy. (Don’t try this at home, kids!) From Pyramids, by Terry Pratchett:
There was a notice on the dune. It said, in several languages: AXIOM TESTING STATION. Below it, in slightly smaller writing, it added: CAUTION—UNRESOLVED POSTULATES…. Teppic carefully poked his head over the top of the dune. He saw a large cleared area…. In the middle of it were two men – one small, fat and florid, the other tall and willowy and with an indefinable air of authority. They were wearing sheets. Clustered around them, and not wearing very much at all, was a group of slaves…. Several of them were holding tortoises on sticks. They looked a bit pathetic, like tortoise lollies.
“Anyway, it’s cruel,” said the tall man. “Poor little things. They look so sad with their little legs waggling.”
“It’s logically impossible for the arrow to hit them!” The fat man threw up his hands. “It shouldn’t do it! You must be giving me the wrong type of tortoise,” he added accusingly. “We ought to try again with faster tortoises.”
“Or slower arrows?”
“Possibly, possibly….”
“But I still don’t understand about the tortoise,” Teppic said with some difficulty….
“‘S quite simple,” said Xeno. “Look, let’s say this olive stone is the arrow and this, and this—” he cast around aimlessly—“and this stunned seagull is the tortoise, right? Now, when you fire the arrow it goes from here to the seag—the tortoise…. But, by this time, the seagu—the tortoise has moved on a bit…. So the arrow has to go a bit further, doesn’t it, to where the tortoise is now. Meanwhile the tortoise has flow—moved on, not much, I’ll grant you, but it doesn’t have to be much. Am I right? So the arrow has a bit further to go, but the point is that by the time it gets to where the tortoise is now the tortoise isn’t there. So, if the tortoise keeps moving, the arrow will never hit it. QED.”
“Are you right?” Said Teppic automatically.
“No,” said Ibid coldly. “There’s a dozen tortoise kebabs to prove him wrong.”


