部分翻译===============================有人说“宁可永远都什么也不信，也好过信个谎言！”，这人啊只是展示了他个人对变成一个蠢货的极大恐惧……这就好像一名将军告诉他的士兵，永远不参战好过冒那仅仅增加一个伤口的风险。而对敌或对自然赢得的胜利，绝不是这么来的。我们的失误当然不是这种战战兢兢的事。有时我们全然不顾自己的小心谨慎，执意要把错误招来，在这样的世界里，某种心灵之光本身看来就要比过度紧张更加健康。——威廉•詹姆斯《相信的意愿》如果你已经下定决心去检验一个理论，或者想要解释一个想法，你就应该总是发表它，不管它看起来是怎样的。如果我们只发表某种特定类型的结果，我们只能让论点看上去不错。两类结果我们都应该发表。——理查德•费曼《别闹了，费曼先生！》科学家经常问我，为什么哲学家花那么多力气教授和学习这个学科的历史。化学家通常而言只对化学史做基本了解然后就跳过这些继续前行，而很多分子生物学家甚至好像对1950年前的生物学发生过什么都了无兴趣。我的回答是，哲学史大体就是非常聪明的人犯下非常诱人的错误的历史，如果你不了解这样的历史，你就注定会把同样的重大错误全都再犯一遍。这就是为什么我们教给学生这个学科的历史，科学家要是愉悦地忽视哲学，那就风险自担。根本没有什么不含哲学的科学，没有什么全不考虑自身的哲学预设就搞起来的科学。最聪明或最幸运的科学家有时能做到非常灵巧地避开这些陷阱（大概他们是“天生哲学家”——或者真的聪明得像他们自己认为的那样），但他们是极少数例外。专业哲学家也不会不犯这些古老的错误，甚至还要为这些错误辩护。假如这些问题并不困难，它们不会值得如此对待。有时你不只是想冒犯错的风险，你就是想犯错——如果你只是想给自己一个清晰且各个细节都很确定的答案。犯错是取得进展的关键。当然有时不犯任何错误确实非常重要——问问外科医生或者民航驾驶员就知道。但有时犯错就是唯一能走的路，这种观点还远未受到应有重视。许多进入名校的学生自豪于自己不犯错误——毕竟这是他们取得比同学更好成绩的原因，或者他们就是被如此教育的。我经常感到我必须得鼓励他们养成犯错的习惯，犯错才是最好的学习机会。他们拿起练习本，浪费数小时在第一行茫然徘徊。“想到啥就赶紧写出来！”（Blurt it out!）我催促他们。然后他们才在纸页上搞出了能继续加工的东西。我们哲学家是犯错专家。（我知道这听起来是个糟糕的笑话，但听我把话说完。）其他学科专于为它们定义的问题找到正确答案，而我们哲学家专于把事情搞糊涂、搞得大错特错的各种办法，以至于甚至没人确定正确的问题是什么，且不说正确答案了。对错的东西提问，就会有展开一系列站不住教的研究的风险。每当这种情况发生的时候，哲学家的工作就出现了！哲学——在每个研究领域——就是这样的工作：找到你本应该在最初提出的问题是什么。……
If the program Searle is hand-simulating is able to carry on an impressive conversation in Chinese, it will have to consult huge data banks not just of “sets of Chinese symbols,” as he puts it, but of everyday knowledge that Chinese speakers share, and that is the least of it. When Searle hand-simulates, does he get any hints of all this layered cognitive activity, or is it just a whole lot of ...(3回应)
If the program Searle is hand-simulating is able to carry on an impressive conversation in Chinese, it will have to consult huge data banks not just of “sets of Chinese symbols,” as he puts it, but of everyday knowledge that Chinese speakers share, and that is the least of it. When Searle hand-simulates, does he get any hints of all this layered cognitive activity, or is it just a whole lot of arithmetic to him?
Think of how Searle would handle the following question in English:
Imagine taking a capital letter D and turning it counterclockwise 90 degrees on its side. Now place it on top of a capital letter J. What sort of weather does that remind you of?
Now imagine that Searle is given an analogous challenge in Chinese when he is hard at work in the Chinese Room.
On June 4, 2012, the following posting of characters was blocked on Sohu Weibo [a Chinese blogging service]. Can you figure out why?
占占占占人 占占占点 占占点占 占点占占 点占占占 灬占占占占
These are actual Chinese characters (Searle’s “squiggles”), but the sequence is utter gibberish. Why would it be blocked by the authorities? Because June 4 is the anniversary of the Tiananmen Square massacre in which hundreds of protesters were killed by the army. (“June 4” is as evocative to the Chinese as “9/11” is to Americans.) The most famous images that emerged were of a single brave man who faced down the tanks. You can see him ( means person) confronting four tanks on the left, which then roll over him and over him and over him and then leave at the right.
The Chinese Room ought to “get it,” but unless Searle had access to the comments on the source code, he would be none the wiser, since it would never be apparent to him that his rule-following was framing a “mental image” and manipulating it and then using the result as a probe of memory. That is, the system would go through a set of activities before responding to the Chinese question that are strikingly parallel to the activities Searle went through knowingly to respond to the English question. You could say that the system has a mind of its own, unimagined by Searle, toiling away in the engine room.
You can’t do much carpentry with your bare hands and you can’t do much thinking with your bare brain. —BO DAHLBOM
“I have to admit,” I said, “that the views you are criticizing are simply preposterous,” and Noam grinned affirmatively, “but then what I want to know is why you’re wasting your time and ours criticizing such junk.”
How to compose a suc...(1回应)
I-1You can’t do much carpentry with your bare hands and you can’t do much thinking with your bare brain. —BO DAHLBOMII-2“I have to admit,” I said, “that the views you are criticizing are simply preposterous,” and Noam grinned affirmatively, “but then what I want to know is why you’re wasting your time and ours criticizing such junk.” II-3How to compose a successful critical commentary: 1. You should attempt to re-express your target’s position so clearly, vividly, and fairly that your target says, “Thanks, I wish I’d thought of putting it that way.” 2. You should list any points of agreement (especially if they are not matters of general or widespread agreement). 3. You should mention anything you have learned from your target. 4. Only then are you permitted to say so much as a word of rebuttal or criticism.Following Rapoport’s Rules is always, for me at least, something of a struggle. Some targets, quite frankly, don’t deserve such respectful attention, and—I admit—it can be sheer joy to skewer and roast them. But when it is called for, and it works, the results are gratifying.……The fairer the criticism seems, the harder to bear in some cases. It is worth reminding yourself that a heroic attempt to find a defensible interpretation of an author, if it comes up empty, can be even more devastating than an angry hatchet job. I recommend it.
This self-conscious wariness with which we should approach any intuition pump is itself an important tool for thinking, the philosophers' favourite tactic: "going meta"--thinking about thinking, talking about talking, reasoning about reasoning. Meta-language is the language we use to talk about another language, and meta-ethics is a bird's-eye view of ethical theories. As I once said to ...
This self-conscious wariness with which we should approach any intuition pump is itself an important tool for thinking, the philosophers' favourite tactic: "going meta"--thinking about thinking, talking about talking, reasoning about reasoning. Meta-language is the language we use to talk about another language, and meta-ethics is a bird's-eye view of ethical theories. As I once said to Doug, "Anything you can do I can do meta-." This whole book is, of course, an example of going meta: exploring how to think carefully about methods of thinking carefully.
Just like the attention one pays to paying attention is meta attention, the thoughts one pays to thinking is meta knowledge: the thinking tools.
部分翻译：===================================================有些哲学教授只愿为研究生开设高级讨论班。我可不是这样。研究生经常急于向同侪和自己证明自己是行家里手，可以把行当里的黑话了然于胸运用自如，拒门外汉于千里之外（借此他们自我确认他们的行当确乎需要专业性），炫技于在最为曲折（也最为折磨）的技术性论证中披荆斩棘不失方向。为高年级研究生和同行专家写作的哲学，典型地几乎没有可读性——所以基本也没有人读……当我多年前在牛津大学对在场仅有立锥之地的听众进行约翰•洛克讲座 时，某一次讲座上，我听到某杰出哲学家嘟嘟囔囔，然后立场，那意思就好像，要是他能从一个把外行人都吸引到洛克讲座上的人这儿学到什么，他就是傻X！他很正确，因为就我所知，他确实从没从我这儿学到什么。……但公允地说，对立面的原罪，浮夸的大陆式修辞，堆砌辞藻、故作高深，对哲学也毫无好处。如果我必须选择，我每次都会把硬范儿的分析、逻辑铡刀加诸迷魂香草（深紫色鼠尾草）之上。至少你基本能搞清楚逻辑铡刀在说什么，什么可能是错的。……‘不要问！不要说！搞什么意识、自由意志、道德、意义和创造力之类的问题，还为时过早！’但没什么人可以就这么对这些问题禁欲地过下去。而近些年，科学家也对这些禁区展开了各种各样的淘金热。受偏门好奇心的引诱（有时或许是急于庆功），科学家也上了这些‘大问题’的贼船，然后很快发现在这些问题上取得进步有多难。我得忏悔，我有个特别愉快（也许也特别罪恶）的乐事，就是看那些杰出科学家，几年前才对哲学表示了不屑轻蔑，他们从自己的科学研究中扩展出一些机灵兮兮的论证，试图以此来努力就这些大问题扳正世界，然后尴尬地摔跟头。两个最赞的：“哲学之于科学就像鸽子屎之于雕塑”（Philosophy to science is what pigeons are to statues），“哲学之于科学，如同毛片之于XX：前者没劲，好搞，可就是有人更喜欢”(Philosophy is to science as pornography is to sex: it is cheaper, easier and some people prefer it）（我不指明作者，但如果作者愿意，可以选择声明对这些句子负责）
29. THE WANDERING TWO-BITSER, TWIN EARTH, AND THE GIANT ROBOT
It may seem that by mentioning Mikeâ€™s thing about redheads and source code in the same paragraph, I am encouraging readers to ignore a crack in the foundation, indeed a yawning chasm in the middle of my discussion of intentionality: the problem of original intentionality. John Searle (1980) coined the term, and the sharp distinctio...(5回应)
29. THE WANDERING TWO-BITSER, TWIN EARTH, AND THE GIANT ROBOT
It may seem that by mentioning Mike’s thing about redheads and source code in the same paragraph, I am encouraging readers to ignore a crack in the foundation, indeed a yawning chasm in the middle of my discussion of intentionality: the problem of original intentionality. John Searle (1980) coined the term, and the sharp distinction he draws between original and derived intentionality is on the face of it intuitively satisfying and even deeply compelling.
The doctrine of original intentionality is the claim that whereas some of our artifacts may have a kind of intentionality derived from us—our books and movies, our computers and signposts, for instance—we have original (or intrinsic) intentionality, utterly underived. For example, the printed words on this page are about philosophy only because we readers and writers of English have thoughts and beliefs about philosophy that we contrive to convey using these trails of ink, which wouldn’t be about anything at all without us word-users. Our thoughts and beliefs, in contrast, mean what they mean independently of any ulterior users; they exhibit original intentionality, and are the source ultimately of all the derived intentionality in many of our artifacts. These include not just words and sentences and books, but maps, movies, paintings, signs, symbols, diagrams and other technical representations, and, importantly, computers. Both a shopping list on a scrap of paper and a shopping list on your iPhone are about groceries only in virtue of the use you make of these symbol structures, the interpretation you bestow on them, in aid of your desire to buy groceries and your belief that the supermarket is the place to go, which are about groceries more directly and originally. Aristotle said that God is the Unmoved Mover, and this doctrine announces that we are the Unmeant Meaners.
We can all agree with Searle that nothing has intrinsic intentionality just in virtue of its physical shape or other such properties. If, by cosmic coincidence, the shape
F R E E B E E R
appeared in traces of different minerals in a cliff face on Mars, it would not (“in itself”) be an announcement about an alcoholic beverage, no matter how eager earthling readers were to interpret it that way. The shape wouldn’t be about anything, in spite of first appearances. If some complicated events and objects in the world are about other things, it must be that they derive their aboutness somehow from being in the service of representing, interpreting intentional systems whose states (beliefs, desires, brain states) already have intentionality somehow.
The question then is whether any thing has original intentionality! And at first blush it might seem obvious that something has to have original intentionality, since derived intentionality has to be derived from something. And then the obvious candidates for things with original intentionality would be human minds. So not surprisingly, some very eminent philosophers who otherwise disagree sharply with Searle on many issues—for instance, Jerry Fodor and Saul Kripke—nevertheless agree with him about this. They, and the many who concur, think that human minds (or their mental states) have original intentionality and are radically unlike robot control systems in this regard.
They are all flat-out mistaken. Yes, mistaken. I mean it. Given the undeniable appeal of the distinction between original and derived intentionality, any attempt to discredit it runs the risk of being subverted by misplaced charity: “He can’t seriously be saying that we’re wrong about that! He must mean something else, some esoteric philosophical point he has unwisely dressed up in these preposterously provocative clothes!” Probably the best way to convince people that I really do mean it is to trot out as vivid and clear a case of derived intentionality as I can find, and then show that the beloved contrast between that case and human minds as cases of original intentionality evaporates on closer examination. It’s a tall order, but here goes. I will need three linked intuition pumps to accomplish the feat.
1. The Wandering Two-Bitser.
Consider a standard soft-drink vending machine, designed and built in the United States, and equipped with a transducer device for accepting and rejecting U.S. quarters. Let’s call such a device a two-bitser.1 Normally, when a quarter is inserted into a two-bitser, the two-bitser goes into a state, call it Q, which “means” (note the scare quotes; it sorta means) “I perceive/accept a genuine U.S. quarter now.”
Such two-bitsers are quite clever and sophisticated, but hardly foolproof. They do “make mistakes.” That is, unmetaphorically, sometimes they go into state Q when a slug or other foreign object is inserted into them, and sometimes they reject perfectly legal quarters—they fail to go into state Q when they are supposed to go into state Q.
No doubt there are detectable patterns in these cases of “misperception.” And no doubt at least some of the cases of “misidentification” could be predicted by someone with enough knowledge of the relevant laws of physics and the design parameters of the two-bitser’s transducing machinery. It could follow quite directly from various applications of physical laws that not only legal U.S. quarters but also objects of some kind K trigger state Q, but objects of kind J(too heavy) or kind L (magnetic, unlike quarters) do not. Objects of kind K, then, would be good slugs—reliably “fooling” the transducer. (Look how many times I’ve used the sorta operator in this paragraph, so that I can use the intentional stance when giving you the specs of the two-bitser. Try to rewrite the paragraph without using the intentional stance and you will appreciate how efficient it is, and how well-nigh indispensable the sorta operator can be for such purposes.)
If objects of kind K became more common in the two-bitser’s normal environment, we would expect the owners and designers of two-bitsers to develop more advanced and sensitive transducers that would reliably discriminate between genuine U.S. quarters and slugs of kind K. Of course, trickier counterfeits might then make their appearance, requiring further advances in the detecting transducers, and at some point such escalation of engineering would reach diminishing returns, for there is no such thing as a foolproof mechanism. In the meantime, the engineers and users are wise to make do with standard, rudimentary two-bitsers, since it is not cost-effective to protect oneself against negligible abuses.
The only thing that makes the device a quarter-detector rather than a slug-detector, or a quarter-or-slug-detector, is the shared intention of the device’s designers, builders, owners, and users. Only in the environment or context of those users and their intentions can we single out some of the occasions of state Q as “veridical” and others as “mistaken.” It is only relative to that context of intentions that we could justify calling the device a two-bitser in the first place.
I take it that so far I have Searle, Fodor, Kripke, and others nodding their heads in agreement: that’s just how it is with such artifacts; this is a textbook case of derived intentionality, laid bare. And so it embarrasses no one to admit that a particular two-bitser, straight from the American factory and with “Model A Two-Bitser” stamped right on it, might be installed on a Panamanian soft-drink machine, where it proceeded to earn its keep as an accepter and rejecter of quarter-balboas, legal tender in Panama and easily distinguished (by human beings) from U.S. quarters by the design and writing stamped on them, but not by their weight, thickness, diameter, or material composition.
I’m not making this up. I have it on excellent authority—Albert Erler of the Flying Eagle Shoppe, Rare Coins—that standard vending machines cannot distinguish between U.S. quarters and Panamanian quarter-balboas minted between 1966 and 1984. Small wonder, since they were struck from U.S. quarter stock in American mints. And—to satisfy the curious, although it is strictly irrelevant to the example—the current (2011) exchange rate is one balboa equals $.98, so a quarter-balboa is, today, ever so slightly less valuable than a U.S. quarter.
Such a two-bitser, whisked off to Panama, would still normally go into a certain physical state—the state with the physical features by which we used to identify state Q—whenever a U.S. quarter or an object of kind K or a Panamanian quarter-balboa is inserted into it, but now a different set of such occasions count as the mistakes. In the new environment, U.S. quarters count as slugs, like objects of kind K, as inducers of error, misperception, misrepresentation. After all, back in the United States a Panamanian quarter-balboa is a kind of slug.
Once our two-bitser is resident in Panama, should we say that the state we used to call Q still occurs? The physical state in which the device “accepts” coins still occurs, but should we now say that we identify that physical state as “realizing” a new state, QB, instead? Well, there is considerable freedom about what we should say, since after all a two-bitser is just an artifact, and talking about its perceptions and misperceptions, its veridical and non-veridical states—its intentionality, in short—is “just metaphor.” The two-bitser’s internal state, call it what you like, doesn’t really (originally) mean either “U.S. quarter here now” or “Panamanian quarter-balboa here now.” It doesn’t really mean anything—so Searle, Fodor, and Kripke (inter alia) would insist. Its internal state only sorta means something, but that will be enough to raise some problems that can also arise for us enjoyers of original intentionality. Let’s look at the details.
The two-bitser was originally designed to be a detector of U.S. quarters. That was its “proper function” (Millikan, 1984), and, quite literally, its raison d’être, its reason for existing. No one would have bothered bringing it into existence had not this purpose occurred to them. And given that this historical fact about its origin licenses a certain way of speaking, such a device may be primarily or properly characterized as a two-bitser, a thing whose function is to detect quarters, so that relative to that function we can identify both its veridical states (when it gets things right) and its errors.
This would not prevent a two-bitser from being wrested from its home niche and pressed into service with a new purpose—whatever new purpose the laws of physics certify it would reliably serve—as a K-detector, a quarter-balboa-detector, a doorstop, a deadly weapon. In its new role there might be a brief period of confusion or indeterminacy. How long a track record must something accumulate before it is no longer a two-bitser, but rather a quarter-balboa-detector (a q-balber)—or a 2 doorstop or a deadly weapon? On its very debut as a q-balber, after ten years of faithful service as a two-bitser, is its state Q already a veridical detection of a quarter-balboa, or might there be a sort of force-of-habit error of nostalgia, a mistaken identification of a quarter-balboa as a U.S. quarter?
As described, the two-bitser differs strikingly from us in that it has no provision for memory of its past experiences—or even sorta memory of its past sorta experiences. But this could easily be provided, if it was thought to make a difference. To start with the simplest inroad into this topic, suppose the two-bitser (to refer to it by the name of its original baptism) is equipped with a counter, which after ten years of service stands at 1,435,792. Suppose it is not reset to zero during its flight to Panama, so that on its debut there the counter turns over to 1,435,793. Does this tip the support in favor of the claim that it has not yet switched to the task of correctly identifying quarter-balboas? (After all, it sorta misclassifies the event as yet another one of those q events—detections of U.S. quarters—it was designed to detect.) Would variations and complications on this theme drive your intuitions in different directions? (Turn all the knobs on the intuition pump to see what happens to your intuitions.)
We can assure ourselves that nothing intrinsic about the two-bitser considered narrowly all by itself and independently of its prior history would distinguish it from a genuine q-balber, made to order on commission from the Panamanian government. Still, given its ancestry, is there not a problem about its function, its purpose, its meaning, on this first occasion when it goes into the state we are tempted to call Q? Is this a case of going into state Q (meaning “U.S. quarter here now”) or state QB (meaning “Panamanian quarter-balboa here now”)? I would say (along with Millikan, 1984) that whether its Panamanian debut counts as going into state Q or state QB depends entirely on whether, in its new niche, it was selected for its capacity to detect quarter-balboas—literally selected, for example, by the holder of the Panamanian Pepsi-Cola franchise. If it was so selected, then even though its new proprietors might have forgotten to reset its counter, its first “perceptual” act would count as a correct identification by a q-balber, for that is what it would now be for. It would have acquired quarter-balboa-detection as its proper function. If, on the other hand, the two-bitser was sent to Panama by mistake, or if it arrived by sheer coincidence, its debut would mean nothing, though its utility might soon—even immediately—be recognized and esteemed by the relevant authorities (those who could press it into service in a new role), and thereupon its subsequent states would count as tokens of QB. But until it was selected for the job, no matter how good it was at detecting quarter-balboas, its acceptance state wouldn’t mean (in its artifactual, derived, sorta sort of way) “Panamanian quarter-balboa here now.” Presumably Searle and colleagues would be content to let me say this, since, after all, the two-bitser is just an artifact. It has no original intentionality, so there is no “deeper” fact of the matter we might try to uncover. They would say that this is just a pragmatic question of how best to talk, when talking metaphorically and anthropomorphically about the states of the device.
Now that we have a good firm grip on derived intentionality, let’s see what is supposed to be different about underived, original intentionality, our intentionality. Here is where Searle, Fodor, Kripke, and many others disagree with not just me, but also philosophers Ruth Millikan, Paul and Patricia Churchland, cognitive scientists Douglas Hofstadter, Marvin Minsky, and just about everybody else in the field of artificial intelligence (AI). After more than thirty years of wrangling, feelings still run high. What, then, is at issue?
1 My other indelible memory of that conference was of Popper’s dip in the Grand Canal. He slipped getting out of the motorboat at the boathouse of the Isola di San Giorgio and fell feet first into the canal, submerged up to his knees before being plucked out and set on the pier by two nimble boatmen. The hosts were mortified and ready to rush back to the hotel to get nonagenarian Sir Karl a...
1 My other indelible memory of that conference was of Popper’s dip in the Grand Canal. He slipped getting out of the motorboat at the boathouse of the Isola di San Giorgio and fell feet first into the canal, submerged up to his knees before being plucked out and set on the pier by two nimble boatmen. The hosts were mortified and ready to rush back to the hotel to get nonagenarian Sir Karl a dry pair of trousers, but the pants he was wearing was the only pair he’d brought—and he was scheduled to lead off the conference in less than half an hour! Italian ingenuity took over, and within about five minutes I enjoyed an unforgettable sight: Sir Karl, sitting regally on a small chair in the exact middle of a marble-floored, domed room (Palladio designed it) surrounded by at least half a dozen young women in miniskirts, on their knees, plying his trouser legs with their hairdryers. The extension cords stretched radially to the walls, making of the tableau a sort of multicolored human daisy, with Sir Karl, unperturbed but unsmiling, in the center. Fifteen minutes later he was dry and pounding his fist on the podium to add emphasis to his dualistic vision.