Reply to Goldman I would like to thank Alvin for a spirited, and gentlemanly, debate we’ve had on these issues, which is extended further here. Alvin is exactly right that if we make his assumption about maximum specificity and deduceability (which I have doubts about), then on my view of knowledge Sphere Guy doesn’t know there’s a sphere in front of him. This may sound silly when we focus on his tactile access to the sphere in the actual world, but (...) if we take a broader view we see that there is more at stake than this. Contrary to Alvin’s impression, methods are not at all excised from my view of knowledge. My theory of how to judge whether someone knows requires us to consider everything (probable) that is and would be responsible for the fact that the person believes or not, whether these occur in his head or in the world, which the formulation in terms of probability helps to make very clear. (See Chapter 3.) Ironically, my refusal to relativize to method has us taking into consideration more facts about the subject’s method than Alvin’s criteria do, for my view takes into account, as appropriate, what process the person would have used and has a tendency to use, and not just the properties of the one he happened in fact to use. When the fact that a method was used by a subject in coming to belief in p is independent of the truth of p, which is actually most of the time in our lives, the conditions of application of the variation condition insure that we evaluate the subject by considering only what he would do and how he would fare in his beliefs were he to use that method he actually used. So, under that condition, my view agrees with Alvin, and Nozick also. But when whether a subject used that method is not independent of the truth value of p, then the variation condition in my view says we must consider in addition the subject’s resulting beliefs in all probable scenarios where he is such that he might well.. (shrink)

In Tracking Truth I undertook a broader project than is typical today toward questions about knowledge, evidence, and scientific realism. The range of knowledge phenomena is much wider than the kind of homely examples—such as ‘‘She has a bee in her bonnet’’—that are often the fare in discussions of knowledge. Scientists have knowledge gained in sophisticated and deliberate ways, and non-human animals have reflexive and rudimentary epistemic achievements that we can easily slip into calling ‘‘knowledge.’’ What is it about knowledge (...) that makes it natural for us to use the same word in cases that are so vastly different? How is it possible for knowledge to have evolved? What is it about knowledge that it should enhance our power over nature, as Francis Bacon observed? What is it about evidence and knowledge that makes you more likely to have the latter when you have the former? Specialization is necessary to progress, but the division of labor it requires has allowed such questions to fall through the gaps between discussions. These gaps are opportunities. Sometimes newly discovered problems can bring new and better answers even to old questions. The questions I have asked above are ‘‘Why?’’ questions expressed as (apparently) Socratic ‘‘What is?’’ questions, and that is the approach taken in the first five chapters of this book, to offer explanations of familiar phenomena on the basis of rigorous definitions of knowledge and evidence. One might object that this is an old, not a new, style of answer, and one that I ought to be educated enough to reject. Many have thought the project of giving necessary and sufficient conditions for knowledge was in its death rattle long ago. The most common argument for this conclusion is an empirical one, that no such attempt has ever been successful in giving the right answer for all examples. And when one asks, as one must, what the ‘‘right’’ answer would be answering to anyway, the project can look even more depressing. But even if there is a clear.... (shrink)

The Pessimistic Induction over the history of science argues that because most past theories considered empirically successful in their time turn out to be not even approximately true, most present ones probably aren’t approximately true either. But why did past scientists accept those incorrect theories? Kyle Stanford’s ‘Problem of Unconceived Alternatives’ is one answer to that question: scientists are bad at exhausting the space of plausible hypotheses to explain the evidence available to them. Here, I offer another answer, which I (...) call the ‘Problem of Misleading Evidence.’ I argue that this proposal is, in important respects, superior to Stanford’s. (shrink)

Scientific realism, the position that successful theories are likely to be approximately true, is threatened by the pessimistic induction according to which the history of science is full of suc- cessful, but false theories. I aim to defend scientific realism against the pessimistic induction. My main thesis is that our current best theories each enjoy a very high degree of predictive success, far higher than was enjoyed by any of the refuted theories. I support this thesis by showing that both (...) the amount, and quality, of scientific evidence has increased enormously in the recent past, resulting in a big boost of success for the best theories. (shrink)