Archive for April, 2009

What thing is at once all-over red and all-over green?

April 27, 2009

Arthur Danto asserts in the foreword to C. L. Hardin’s Color for Philosophers that empirical science has shown us that something can be at once all-over red and all-over green.  This is set against claims by David Pears, for example, that the denial of this is both true and a priori such that “anyone who began to look for exceptions would betray that he did not really understand the sentence.”  Danto writes:

In the September 9, 1983, issue of Science, I read a paper with a title that ought to have been evidence that its authors did not understand their language, had Pears been right: “On Seeing Reddish Green and Yellowish Blue.”  From the perspective of conceptual analysis, this would have been like coming across an article called “On Squaring the Circle and Duplicating the Cube.”  One ought to have known, a priori, that the paper, if not merely jocular or arch, must be incoherent or false.  Instead, the article in Science was informative and true, its title descriptively accurate, and it reported certain exceptions to the misclassified statement regarding red-green incompatibility, now seen to be a posteriori and admitting of exceptions.  Its “Abstract” read as follows:

“Some dyadic color names (such as reddish green and bluish yellow) describe colors that are not normally realizable.  By stabilizing the retinal image of the boundary between a pair of red and green stripes (or a pair of yellow and blue stripes), but not their outer edges, however, the entire region can be perceived simultaneously as both red and green (or blue and yellow).”

Under laboratory conditions specified in the body of the paper, observers reported that, among other alternatives, “the entire field appears to be a single unitary color composed of both red and green.”  And against the background assumptions of philosophical analysis, this would be like inducing an experience of a single unitary plane figure composed of a circle and a square. (1988, xi-xii)

But, what is the thing that is at once all-over red and all-over green?  What is the thing that is seen that is reddish green?  Taking the abstract at face value, two colored things are presented to the subject, one red and one green; of course, (some) subjects report seeing reddish green in the region between them.  Presumably the subjects are mistaken and the scientists (Crane and Piantanida) have simply shown us how to trick a subject into thinking that she sees something that is reddish green.  After all, the region between the red and the green stripes is neither red nor green, nor is it reddish green.  There doesn’t seem to be any reddish green thing to be seen.  Unless, that is, we think that the subject saw something besides (some parts of) the stimulus — a reddish green sense datum, perhaps.  If that is the correct way to understand the experiment, then it is evidence against Pears’s claim that no thing could be at once all-over red and all-over green; but, of course, the experiment does not establish that.

Fugazi on Private Language?

April 25, 2009

I wanted a language of my own
My lips sucked empty and I mouthed the lines
Of this crowd that surrounds me
Punctured and parceled I fold my hand

–Fugazi, Burning

Beware Zombies are Coming!

April 21, 2009
Warning about philosophical thought experiments seen on bathroom stall at Borders Books.

Warning about philosophical thought experiments seen on bathroom stall at Borders Books.

A Happy Ending to Tax Day

April 15, 2009

Google It

April 15, 2009

shoe-in: 15,200,000 results
shoo-in: 585,000 results

“home in on”: 2,770,000 results
“hone in on”: 285,000 results

What would you expect binocular rivalry to be like?

April 7, 2009

I’m currently working on Chapter 7 of my dissertation, which looks at work on neuronal correlates of consciousness (NCC).  The NCC project is generally thought of as the first step in the scientific study of phenomenal consciousness.  The experiments that have generated the most interest involve binocular rivalry.  I hope to find time to put together a few more detailed posts concerning this topic in the near future, but as that probably won’t happen until the semester is over and my grading is done, let me ask a question that I keep asking myself (and hope to actually get some empirical data on at some point).  In experiments using binocular rivalry, two distinct stimuli (say a horizontal and a vertical grating) are presented one to each eye.  So, your left eye is looking at a horizontal grating while your right eye is looking at a vertical grating.  What would you expect to see in such a situation?

I can think of a number of distinct predictions that strike me as plausible, but I don’t know what would have struck me as most plausible before hearing about what people actually report in such situations.  Further, it strikes me that people’s naive guesses here would tell us something about what we might call the folk theory of vision.

In fact, I recently found myself in a situation that is somewhat similar and found myself surprised at my own surprise.  I went to the eye doctor on Monday and found out that while my vision is generally not too bad (I’m getting glasses, but the prescription is pretty minor), my right eye is far worse than my left eye for distance vision.  (Up close, my right is actually a bit better than my left.)  Now that I know this, it seems obvious: Close my right eye and I have no trouble reading a license plate at 50 feet, close my left and I can’t even guess at it.  When I first noticed this in the doctor’s office, my instinct was that I would see better with my right eye closed than with both eyes open.  I guess my naive assumption was that what I see with the two eyes must be a blend or an average of what I see with each eye (so, if my left eye gets a score of 9, my right a score of 3, then it seems I would have expect both eyes to get a score of 6).  Of course, with a moment’s thought I realized that this was a silly prediction and that my vision with both eyes should be about the same as with my left eye alone.  That is, in fact, what I found when the doctor switched me back to using both eyes.

Update: Just picked up my new glasses; take a look.

Justin "four-eyes" Sytsma

Justin "four-eyes" Sytsma

Ode to Being a Bat

April 2, 2009

One of my students gave me a photocopy she found in the library; on the left hand side (presumably the unwanted side with somebody copying the poem starting on the right) is the poem “Darkless” after Thomas Nagel’s “What is it like to be a bat?”  The author isn’t shown on the page; but, Google suggests that it is by John Tipton and is from the Chicago Review (January, 2009).  Here are a couple snippets:

sense fit to the darkless
unlinks along paths
down the cataracts of air
that echoes maze…

nonstructs for flight
banks signing baffles at angles
to the flat
place before gray falls void…

pitch wrinkles its foil wrappers
unwinds jar lids
out spells in negative figments
one for one…