Objective Ambiguity

Objective ambiguity is not only possible but common. Indeed its denial is responsible for much of what is wrong with the world.

This is what I would call an interpretive principle. I think it is characteristic of facts as well.

We only make judgments about ambiguity in contrast with things more definite. But perhaps the converse could be said as well, and we only make judgments about definiteness in contrast with things more ambiguous. I am inclined to think that the absolute poles on this spectrum — absolute definiteness and absolute indefiniteness — are never found in what I still want to call the real world.

What we want to say objectivity is seems to be one of the things that could always be more pondered. But I want to say that there are quite meaningful things we can say about it, and one of these is that objectivity properly said must include an appropriate recognition of objective ambiguity.

There is a human-sized definiteness that is not absolute, but remains morally compelling. Definiteness itself does not have razor-sharp edges. We adhere to it in a broad way and not in an absolutist way, and that is for the better. Broad adherence to anything is better than absolutist adherence, which overdoes things and is not responsive to nuance.

Sensitivity to nuance is a delicate thing, but it is the better thing. When I recently wrote about “kindly objectivity”, one thing that slipped out spontaneously was that the ethical sense of objectivity is characterized not only from an angle of fairness, or objectivity as fairness and lack of bias in interpreting things and people, but also as a kind of magnanimity. As the word “magnanimity” wrote itself into the text, I paused and wondered where that came from? But the more I think about it, the more I think it is true. To be magnanimous is to be more than fair, whereas normal biases as well as extraordinary ones cause people to be less than fair. It is to display the “wise charity” by which Leibniz characterized justice.

As we reach toward our best judgments of things and people, we display magnanimity and wise charity. When we get to the level of nuance, we get closer to reality. Hard edges become fractally ramified, but at the same time substantiality, “thickness”, conditional definiteness, reality begin to emerge of themselves out of the shimmering. Reciprocity lifts itself by the bootstraps. We and the other can find coexistence and emergent truth together.

Poetically speaking, this has great relevance to the kind of second-order historical interpretation I call “historiographical”.

Thoughts on Teleology

Teleology is another subject on which my perspective has changed drastically over the years.

After a youthful fascination with Plotinus, my main interest turned toward the diverse group of writers loosely associated with French “structuralism”, several of whom were very interested in Spinoza. For some years, Spinoza became the great philosopher I identified with most. I had not explicitly thought much about teleology before, but Spinoza’s very sharp critique in the appendix to book 1 of the Ethics impressed me greatly. At the time, I did not trouble myself over whether it was fair to the historic Aristotle. I defended without reservation the strong determinism of Spinoza and the Stoics, emphasizing an understanding of the causes of things as the main path to enlightenment. At this time also, some contemporary writers on mathematical “chaos theory” were proposing what they called a superdeterminism, which would allow for deterministic explanation of all sorts of nonlinear phenomena, by an innovative separation of the notion of determinism from its traditional connotations of predictability. I had not yet begun to question what I have been referring to here as the “modern notion” of causality. My great preoccupation was with defending the possibility of ethics within a deterministic context.

My deeper engagement with Aristotle began initially with problems of things “said in many ways”. In my professional work as a data modeler, I was very concerned with the ambiguities of common-sense apprehensions of things, which I wanted to overcome in Platonic fashion. The univocity that Aristotle treats in a balanced way I initially saw more one-sidedly as an ideal to aim for in the quest for knowledge, though without underestimating the difficulty of attempting to treat everything in a univocal manner, or as comprehended by a single grand, consistent theory. Meanwhile, my personal interests were focused on questions of the interpretation of the history of human cultural development.

Gradually, I became more and more impressed with the importance of what I came to call “objective ambiguity” in history — the idea that this was not just a defect of our understanding or interpretation, but that the most objective reality of the concrete world may often reflect mixed or “in between” states of things. Eventually, I came to recognize that Aristotle, perhaps more than any other of the great philosophers, deeply thought about this and took it into account. I became aware of the arguments of Leibniz that all necessity is hypothetical, then realized Aristotle had already said that all necessity in generated things is hypothetical.

As Spinoza said, strict causal necessity rules out the “play” in things that leaves room for teleological explanation. But I have become convinced that that “play” in things is not something to be explained away as a mere appearance. Hypothetical necessity respects both the element of (conditional) necessity in things and this inherent “play”. It now appears to me as a priceless Aristotelian mean, and a kind of Hegelian synthesis of determination and play or flexibility.

The way Aristotle applies hypothetical necessity to determination by ends removes the mystery from final causes. Aristotle emphasizes the alternative that Spinoza ignored — that teleology need not be the product of conscious aims of a supernatural being or beings “intervening” in the natural order. In Aristotle’s non-reductionist view of the intelligibility of nature, natural things are shaped by inherent “tendencies” to seek certain states that are nonetheless not strictly determining. (See also Aristotle on Explanation; Ends; Equivocal Determination; Free Will and Determinism.)

Equivocal Determination

Even though in hindsight it is possible to find reasons why things turned out as they did, the past does not completely determine the future. In general, ahead of time, multiple outcomes are possible. There are many possible ways to meet a requirement, need, or desire, and there are chance intersections and collisions of different, mostly independent vectors of determination. This is all to say that the determination of things is in some measure equivocal (i.e., not univocal). (See also Efficient Cause; Free Will and Determinism; Kantian Freedom.)

A related point is that there is such a thing as objective ambiguity in the world. This means not just that we are unsure or conflicted about something, but that the best or most complete evidence available in a particular case may have more than one reasonable interpretation. (See also Aristotelian Identity; Things in Themselves; Copernican; The Epistemic Modesty of Plato and Aristotle.)