Wesley Salmon
The Problem of Induction
I. The Problem of Induction
1
We all believe that we have knowledge of facts extending far beyond those we
directly perceive. The scope of our senses is severely limited in space and
time; our immediate perceptual knowledge does not reach to events that happened
be fore we were born to events that are happening now in certain other places or
to any future events. We believe, nevertheless, that we have some kind of
indirect knowledge of such facts. We know that a glacier once covered a large
part of North America, that the sun continues to exist at night, and that the
tides will rise and fall tomorrow. Science and common sense have at least this
one thing in common: Each embodies knowledge of matters of fact that are not
open to our direct inspection. Indeed, science purports to establish general
laws or theories that apply to all parts of space and time without restriction.
A "science" that consisted of no more than a mere summary of the
results of direct observation would not deserve the name.
2
Hume's profound critique of induction begins with a simple and apparently
innocent question: How do we acquire knowledge of the unobserved?1
This question, as posed, may seem to call for an empirical answer.
We observe
that human beings utilize what may be roughly characterized as inductive or
scientific methods of extending knowledge from the observed to the unobserved.
The sciences, in fact, embody the most powerful and highly developed methods
known, and we may make an empirical investigation of scientific methods much as
we might for any other sort of human behavior. We may consider the historical
development of science. We may study the psychological, sociological, and
political factors relevant to the pursuit of science. We may try to give an
exact characterization of the behavior of scientists. In doing all these things,
however, important and interesting as they are, we will have ignored the philosophical
aspect of the problem Hume raised. Putting the matter very simply, these
empirical investigations may enable us to describe the ways in which people
arrive at beliefs about unobserved facts, but they leave open the
question of whether beliefs arrived at in this way actually constitute
knowledge.
It is one thing to describe how people go about seeking to extend their
knowledge; it is quite another to claim that the methods employed actually do
yield knowledge.
3
One of the basic differences between knowledge and belief is that knowledge
must be founded upon evidence--i.e., it must be belief founded upon some rational
justification. To say that certain methods yield knowledge of the unobserved is
to make a cognitive claim for them. Hume called into question the justification
of such cognitive claims. The answer cannot be found entirely within an
empirical study of human behavior, for a logical problem has been raised.
It is the problem of understanding the logical relationship between evidence and
conclusion in logically correct inferences. It is the problem of determining
whether the inferences by which we attempt to make the transition from knowledge
of the observed to knowledge of the unobserved are logically correct. The fact
that people do or do not use a certain type of inference is irrelevant to its
justifiability. Whether people have confidence in the correctness of a certain
type of inference has nothing to do with whether such confidence is justified.
If we should adopt a logically incorrect method for inferring one fact from
others, these facts would not actually constitute evidence for the conclusion we
have drawn. The problem of induction is the problem of explicating the very
concept of inductive evidence.
4
There is another possibly misleading feature of the question as I have
formulated it. When we ask how we can acquire knowledge of the
unobserved, it sounds very much as if we are asking for a method for the discovery
of new knowledge. This is, of course, a vital problem, but it is not the
fundamental problem Hume raised. Whether there is or can be any sort of
inductive logic of discovery is a controversial question I shall discuss in
detail in a later section.2 Leaving this question aside for now,
there remains the problem of justification of conclusions concerning
unobserved matters of fact. Given some conclusion, however arrived at, regarding
unobserved facts, and given some alleged evidence to support that conclusion,
the question remains whether that conclusion is, indeed, supported by the
evidence offered in support of it.
5
Consider a simple and highly artificial situation. Suppose a number of balls
have been drawn from an urn, and that all of the black ones that have been drawn
are licorice-flavored. I am not now concerned with such psychological questions
as what makes the observer note the color of these balls, what leads him to
taste the black ones, what makes him take note of the fact that licorice flavor
is associated with black color in his sample, or what makes him suppose that the
black balls not yet drawn will also be licorice- flavored. The problem-Hume's
basic philosophical problem is this: Given that all of the observed black
balls have been licorice-flavored, and given that somehow the conclusion has
been entertained that the unobserved black balls in the urn are also
licorice-flavored, do the observed facts constitute sound evidence for
that conclusion? Would we be justified in accepting that conclusion on
the basis of the facts alleged to be evidence for it?
6
As a first answer to this question we may point out that the inference does
conform to an accepted inductive principle, a principle saying roughly that
observed instances conforming to a generalization constitute evidence for it. It
is, however, a very small step to the next question: What grounds have we for
accepting this or any other inductive principle? Is there any reason or
justification for placing confidence in the conclusions of inferences of this
type? Given that the premises of this inference are true, and given that the
inference conforms to a certain rule, can we provide any rational justification
for accepting its conclusion rather than, for instance, the conclusion that
black balls yet to be drawn will taste like quinine?
7
It is well known that Hume's answer to this problem was essentially
skeptical. It was his great merit to have shown that a justification of
induction, if possible at all, is by no means easy to provide. In order to
appreciate the force of his argument it is first necessary to clarify some
terminological points. This is particularly important because the word induction
has been used in a wide variety of ways.
8
For purposes of systematic discussion one distinction is fundamental, namely,
the distinction between demonstrative and nondemonstrative inference. A demonstrative
inference is one whose premises necessitate its conclusion; the conclusion
cannot be false if the premises are true. All valid deductions are demonstrative
inferences. A nondemonstrative inference is simply one that fails to be
demonstrative. Its conclusion is not necessitated by its premises; the
conclusion could be false even if the premises are true. A demonstrative
inference is necessarily truth-preserving, a nondemonstrative inference
is not.
9
The category of nondemonstrative inferences, as I have characterized it,
contains, among other things perhaps, all kinds of fallacious inferences. If,
however, there is any kind of inference whose premises, although not
necessitating the conclusion, do lend it weight, support it, or make it
probable, then such inferences possess a certain kind of logical rectitude. It
is not deductive validity, but it is important anyway. Inferences possessing it
are correct inductive inferences.
10
Since demonstrative inferences have been characterized in terms of their
basic property of necessary truth preservation, it is natural to ask how they
achieve this very desirable trait. For a large group of demonstrative
inferences, including those discussed under "valid deduction" in most
logic texts, the answer is rather easy. Inferences of this type purchase
necessary truth preservation by sacrificing any extension of content. The
conclusion of such an inference says no more than do the premises--often less.3
The conclusion cannot be false if the premises are true because the
conclusion says nothing that was not already stated in the premises. The
conclusion is a mere reformulation of all or part of the content of the
premises. In some cases the reformulation is unanticipated and therefore
psychologically surprising, but the conclusion cannot augment the content of the
premises. Such inferences are nonampliative; an ampliative inference,
then, has a conclusion with content not present either explicitly or implicitly
in the premises.
While it is easy to understand why nonampliative inferences are necessarily
truth-preserving, the further question arises whether there are any necessarily
truth-preserving inferences that are also ampliative. Is there any type of
inference whose conclusion must, of necessity, be true if the premises are true,
but whose conclusion says something not stated by the premises? Hume believed
that the answer is negative and so do I, but it is not easy to produce an
adequate defense of this answer. Let us see, however, what an affirmative answer
would amount to.
11
Suppose there were an ampliative inference that is also necessarily
truth-preserving. Consider the implication from its premises, P1...Pk,
to its conclusion C. If the inference were an ordinary
nonampliative deduction, this implication would be analytic and empty; but since
the argument is supposed to be ampliative, the implication must be synthetic. At
the same time, because the argument is supposed to be necessarily
truth-preserving, this implication must be not only true but necessarily true.
Thus, to maintain that there are inferences that are both ampliative and
necessarily truth-preserving is tantamount to asserting that there are synthetic
a priori truths.4 This may be seen in another way. Any
ampliative inference can be made into a nonampliative one by adding a premise.
In particular, if we add to the foregoing ampliative inference the synthetic a
priori premise, "If P1 and P2
and . . . and Pk, then C,"
the resulting inference will be an ordinary valid nonampliative deduction.
Consider our example once more; this time let us set it out more formally:
|
1. Some black balls from this urn have been observed. All observed black balls from this urn are licorice-flavored. ______________________________________ All black balls in this urn are licorice-flavored. |
12
This argument is clearly ampliative, for the premise makes a statement about
observed balls only, while the conclusion makes a statement about the unobserved
as well as the observed balls. It appears to be nondemonstrative as well, for it
seems perfectly possible for the conclusion to be false even if the premises are
true. We see no reason why someone might not have dropped a black marble in the
urn which, when it is drawn, will be found to be tasteless. We could, however,
rule out this sort of possibility by adding another premise:
|
2. Some black balls from this urn have been observed. All observed black balls in this urn are licorice-flavored. Any two balls in this urn that have the same color also have the same flavor. _______________________________________ All black balls in this urn are licorice-flavored. |
13
The additional premise has transformed the former nondemonstrative inference
into a demonstrative inference, but we must also admit that we have transformed
it into a nonampliative inference. If, however, the third premise of 2 were a
synthetic a priori truth, the original inference, although ampliative,
would have been necessarily truth-preserving and, hence, demonstrative. If the
premise that transformed inference 1 into inference 2 were necessarily true,
then it would be impossible for the conclusion of inference 1 to be false if the
premises were true, for that would contradict the third premise of inference 2.
14
Hardly anyone would be tempted to say that the statement, "Any two balls
in this urn that have the same color also have the same flavor," expresses
a synthetic a priori truth. Other propositions have, however, been taken
to be synthetic a priori. Hume and many of his successors noticed that
typical inductive inferences, such as our example concerning licorice-flavored
black balls, would seem perfectly sound if we could have recourse to some sort
of principle of uniformity of nature. If we could only prove that the course of
nature is uniform, that the future will be like the past, or that uniformities
that have existed thus far will continue to hold in the future, then we would
seem to be justified in generalizing from past cases to future cases--from the
observed to the unobserved. Indeed, Hume suggests that we presuppose in our
inductive reasoning a principle from which the third premise of 2 would follow
as a special case: "We always presume, when we see like sensible qualities,
that they have like secret powers, and expect that effects, similar to those
which we have experienced, will follow from them."5 Again,
"From causes which appear similar we expect similar effects. This is
the sum of all our experimental conclusions."6
15
Hume's searching examination of the principle of uniformity of nature
revealed no ground on which it could be taken as a synthetic a priori principle.
For all we can know a priori, Hume argued, the course of nature might
change, the future might be radically unlike the past, and regularities that
have obtained in respect to observed events might prove completely inapplicable
to unobserved cases. We have found by experience, of course, that nature has
exhibited a high degree of uniformity and regularity so far, and we infer
inductively that this will continue, but to use an inductively inferred
generalization as a justification for induction, as Hume emphasized, would be
flagrantly circular. He concluded, in fact, that there are no synthetic a
priori principles in virtue of which we could have demonstrative inferences
that are ampliative. Hume recognized two kinds of reasoning: reasoning
concerning relations of ideas and reasoning concerning matters of fact and
existence. The former is demonstrative but nonampliative while the latter is
ampliative but not necessarily truth-preserving.
16
If we agree that there are no synthetic a priori truths, then we must
identify necessarily truth-preserving inference with nonampliative inference.
All ampliative inference is nondemonstrative. This leads to an exhaustive
trichotomy of inferences: valid deductive inference, correct inductive
inference, and assorted fallacies. The first question is, however, whether the
second category is empty or whether there are such things as correct inductive
inferences. This is Hume's problem of induction. Can we show that any particular
type of ampliative inference can be justified in any way? If so, it will qualify
as correct induction.
17
Consider, then, any ampliative inference whatever. The example of the
licorice-flavored black balls illustrates the point. We cannot show deductively
that this inference will have a true conclusion given true premises. If we
could, we would have proved that the conclusion must be true if the premises
are. That would make it necessarily truth-preserving, hence, demonstrative.
This, in turn, would mean that it was nonampliative, contrary to our hypothesis.
Thus, if an ampliative inference could be justified deductively it would not be
ampliative. It follows that ampliative inference cannot be justified
deductively.
18
At the same time, we cannot justify any sort of ampliative inference inductively.
To do so would require the use of some sort of nondemonstrative inference.
But the question at issue is the justification of nondemonstrative inference, so
the procedure would be question begging. Before we can properly employ a
nondemonstrative inference in a justifying argument, we must already have
justified that nondemonstrative inference.
19
Hume's position can be summarized succinctly: We cannot justify any kind of
ampliative inference. If it could be justified deductively it would not be
ampliative. It cannot be justified nondemonstratively because that would
be viciously circular. It seems, then, that there is no way in which we
can extend our knowledge to the unobserved. We have, to be sure, many beliefs
about the unobserved, and in some of them we place great confidence.
Nevertheless, they are without rational justification of any kind!
20
This is a harsh conclusion, yet it seems to be supported by impeccable
arguments. It might be called "Hume's paradox," for the
conclusion, although ingeniously argued, is utterly repugnant to common sense
and our deepest convictions. We know ("in our hearts") that we
have knowledge of unobserved fact. The challenge is to show how this is
possible.
II. Attempted Solutions
21
It hardly needs remarking that philosophers have attempted to meet Hume's
intriguing challenge in a wide variety of ways. There have been direct attacks
upon some of Hume's arguments. Attempts to provide inductive arguments to
support induction and attempts to supply a synthetic a priori principle
of uniformity of nature belong in this category. Some authors have claimed that
the whole problem arises out of linguistic confusion, and that careful analysis
shows it to be a pseudo-problem. Some have even denied that inductive inference
is needed, either in science or in everyday affairs. In this section I shall
survey what seem to me to be the most important efforts to deal with the
problem.
22
1. Inductive Justification. If Hume's arguments had never been
propounded and we were asked why we accept the methods of science, the most
natural answer would be, I think, that these methods have proved themselves by
their results. We can point to astonishing technological advances, to vastly
increased comprehension, and to impressive predictions. Science has provided us
with foresight, control, and understanding. No other method can claim a
comparable record of successful accomplishment. If methods are to be judged by
their fruits, there is no doubt that the scientific method will come out on top.
23
Unfortunately, Hume examined this argument and showed that it is viciously
circular. It is an example of an attempt to justify inductive methods
inductively. From the premise that science has had considerable predictive
success in the past, we conclude that it will continue to have substantial
predictive success in the future. Observed cases of the application of
scientific method have yielded successful prediction; therefore, as yet
unobserved cases of the application of scientific method will yield successful
predictions. This argument has the same structure as our black-balls-in-the-urn
example; it is precisely the sort of ampliative inference from the observed to
the unobserved whose justifiability is in question.
24
Consider the parallel case for a radically different sort of method. A
crystal gazer claims that his method is the appropriate method for making
predictions. When we question his claim he says, "Wait a moment; I will
find out whether the method of crystal gazing is the best method for making
predictions." He looks into his crystal ball and announces that future
cases of crystal gazing will yield predictive success. If we should protest that
his method has not been especially successful in the past, he might well make
certain remarks about parity of reasoning. "Since you have used your method
to justify your method, why shouldn't I use my method to justify my method? If
you insist upon judging my method by using your method, why shouldn't I use my
method to evaluate your method? By the way, I note by gazing into my crystal
ball that the scientific method is now in for a very bad run of luck."
25
The trouble with circular arguments is obvious: with an appropriate circular
argument you can prove anything. In recent years, nevertheless, there have been
several notable attempts to show how inductive rules can be supported
inductively. The authors of such attempts try to show, of course, that their
arguments are not circular. Although they argue persuasively, it seems to me
that they do not succeed in escaping circularity.
26
One of the most widely discussed attempts to show that self-supporting
inductive inferences are possible without circularity is due to Max Black.7
Black correctly observes that the traditional fallacy of circular argument (petitio
principii) involves assuming as a premise, often unwittingly, the conclusion
that is to be proved. Thus, for example, a variety of "proofs" of
Euclid's fifth postulate offered by mathematicians for about two millennia
before the discovery of non-Euclidean geometry are circular in the standard
fashion. They fail to show that the fifth postulate follows from the first four
postulates alone; instead, they require in addition the assumption of a
proposition equivalent to the proposition being demonstrated. The situation is
quite different for self-supporting inductive arguments. The conclusion to be
proved does not appear as one of the premises. Consider one of Black's examples:
8
|
3. In most instances of the use of R2 in arguments with true premises examined in a wide variety of conditions, R2 has usually been successful. Hence (probably): In the next instance to be encountered of the use of R2 in an argument with true premises, R2 will be successful. |
To say that an argument with true premises is successful is merely to say
that it has a true conclusion. The rule R2 is
|
To argue from Most instances of A's examined in a wide variety of conditions have been B to (probably) The next A to be encountered will be B. |
|
4. R2
has usually been successful in the past. Hence (probably): R2 will be successful in the next instance. |
27
Inference 3 is governed by R2 that is, it
conforms to the stipulation laid down by R2. R2
is not a premise, however, nor is any statement to the effect that
all, some, or any future instances of R2 will be
successful. As Lewis Carroll showed decisively, there is a fundamental
distinction between premises and rules of inference.9 Any inference,
inductive or deductive, must conform to some rule, but neither the rule nor any
statement about the rule is to be incorporated into the inference as an
additional premise. If such additional premises were required, inference would
be impossible. Thus, inference 3 is not a standard
petitio principii.
28
premises. (2)
The argument must conform to a certain rule. (3) The conclusion of that argument
must say something about the success or reliability of that rule in unexamined
instances of its application. Inference 3 has these characteristics.
29
It is not difficult to find examples of deductive inferences with the
foregoing characteristics.
|
5. If snow is white, then modus ponens is valid. Snow is white. ________________ Modus ponens is valid. |
Inference 5 may seem innocuous enough, but the same cannot be said for the
following inference:
|
6. If affirming the consequent is valid, then coal is black. Coal is black. ________________________ Affirming the consequent is valid. |
30
Like inference 5, inference 6 has true premises, it conforms to a certain
rule, and its conclusion asserts the validity of that rule. Inference 5 did
nothing to enhance our confidence in the validity of modus ponens, for we
have far better grounds for believing it to be valid. Inference 6 does nothing
to convince us that affirming the consequent is valid, for we know on other
grounds that it is invalid. Arguments like 5 and 6 are, nevertheless,
instructive. Both are circular in some sense, though neither assumes as a
premise the conclusion it purports to establish. In deductive logic the
situation is quite straightforward. A deductive inference establishes its
conclusion if it has true premises and has a valid form. If either of these
features is lacking the conclusion is not established by that argument. If the
argument is valid but the premises are not true we need not accept the
conclusion. If the premises are true but the argument is invalid we need not
accept the conclusion. One way in which an argument can be circular is by
adopting as a premise the very conclusion that is to be proved; this is the
fallacy of petitio principii which I shall call "premise-
circularity." Another way in which an argument can be circular is by
exhibiting a form whose validity is asserted by the very conclusion that is to
be proved; let us call this type of circularity "rule- circularity."
Neither type of circular argument establishes its conclusion in any interesting
fashion, for in each case the conclusiveness of the argument depends upon the
assumption of the conclusion of that argument. Inferences 5 and 6 are not
premise-circular; each is rule-circular. They are, nevertheless, completely
question begging.
31
The situation in induction is somewhat more complicated, but basically the
same.10 Consider the following argument:
|
7. In most
instances of the use of R3 in arguments
with true premises examined in a wide variety of conditions, R3
has usually been
unsuccessful. |
The rule R3 is
|
To argue from Most instances of A's examined in a wide variety of conditions have been non-B to (probably) The next A to be encountered will be B. |
Inference 7 can be paraphrased as follows:
|
8. R3
has usually been unsuccessful in the past. |
32
Notice that there is a perfect parallel between R2,
3, 4 on the one hand and R3, 7, 8 on the
other. Since those instances in which R2 would
be successful are those in which R3 would be
unsuccessful, the premises of 3 and 4 describe the same state of affairs as do
the premises of 7 and 8. Thus, the use of R3 in
the next instance seems to be supported in the same manner and to the same
extent as the use of R2 in the next instance.
However, R2 and R3 conflict
directly with each other. On the evidence that most Italians examined in a wide
variety of conditions have been dark-eyed, R2 allows
us to infer that the next Italian to be encountered will be dark-eyed, while R3
permits us to infer from the same evidence that he will have light-colored
eyes. It appears then that we can construct self-supporting arguments for
correct and incorrect inductive rules just as we can for valid and invalid
deductive rules.
33
Black would reject self-supporting arguments for the fallacy of affirming the
consequent and for a counterinductive rule like R2, because
we know on independent grounds that such rules are faulty. Affirming the
consequent is known to be fallacious, and the counterinductive method can be
shown to be self-defeating, An additional requirement for a self-supporting
argument is that the rule thus supported be one we have no independent reason to
reject. Nevertheless, the fact that we can construct self-supporting arguments
for such rules should give us pause. What if we had never realized that
affirming the consequent is fallacious? What if we had never noticed anything
wrong with the counterinductive method? Would arguments like 6, 7, and 8 have to
be considered cogent? What about the standard inductive method? Is it as
incorrect as the counterinductive method, but for reasons most of us have not
yet realized?
34
It sounds as if a self-supporting argument is applicable only to rules we
already know to be correct; as a matter of fact, this is the view Black holds.
He has argued in various places that induction is in no need of a general
justification.11 He holds that calling into question of all inductive
methods simultaneously results in a hopelessly skeptical position. He is careful
to state explicitly at the outset of his discussion of self-supporting inductive
arguments that he is not dealing with the view "that no inductive
argument ought to be regarded as correct until a philosophical justification of
induction has been provided."12 At the conclusion he
acknowledges, moreover, that "anybody who thinks he has good grounds for
condemning all inductive arguments will also condemn inductive arguments in
support of inductive rules."13 Black is careful to state
explicitly that self-supporting inductive arguments provide no answer to the
problem of justification of induction as raised by Hume. What good, then, are
self-supporting inductive arguments?
35
In deductive logic, correctness is an all-or-nothing affair. Deductive
inferences are either totally valid or totally invalid; there cannot be such a
thing as degree of validity. In inductive logic the situation is quite
different. Inductive correctness does admit of degrees; one inductive conclusion
may be more strongly supported than another. In this situation it is possible,
Black claims, to have an inductive rule we know to be correct to some degree,
but whose status can be enhanced by self-supporting arguments. We might think a
rather standard inductive rule akin to Black's R2
is pretty good, but through inductive investigation of its application we might
find that it is extremely good--much better than we originally thought.
Moreover, the inductive inferences we use to draw that conclusion might be
governed by precisely the sort of rule we are investigating. It is also
possible, of course, to find by inductive investigation that the rule is not as
good as we believed beforehand.
36
It is actually irrelevant to the present discussion to attempt to evaluate
Black's view concerning the possibility of increasing the justification of
inductive rules by self-supporting arguments. The important point is to
emphasize, because of the possibility of constructing self-supporting arguments
for counterinductive rules, that the attempt to provide inductive support of
inductive rules cannot, without vicious circularity, be applied to the problem
of justifying induction from scratch. If there is any way of providing the
beginnings of a justification, or if we could show that some inductive rule
stands in no need of justification in the first instance, then it would be
suitable to return to Black's argument concerning the increase of support. I am
not convinced, however, that Black has successfully shown that there is a
satisfactory starting place.
37
I have treated the problem of inductive justification of induction at some
length, partly because other authors have not been as cautious as Black in
circumscribing the limits of inductive justification of induction.14
More important, perhaps, is the fact that it is extremely difficult,
psychologically speaking, to shake the view that past success of the inductive
method constitutes a genuine justification of induction. Nevertheless, the basic
fact remains: Hume showed that inductive justifications of induction are
fallacious, and no one has since proved him wrong.
2. The
Complexity of Scientific Inference.
38
The idea of a
philosopher discussing inductive inference in science is apt to arouse grotesque
images in many minds. People are likely to imagine someone earnestly attempting
to explain why it is reasonable to conclude that the sun will rise tomorrow
morning because it always has done so in the past. There may have been a time
when primitive man anticipated the dawn with assurance based only upon the fact
that he had seen dawn follow the blackness of night as long as he could
remember, but this primitive state of knowledge, if it ever existed, was
unquestionably prescientific. This kind of reasoning bears no resemblance to
science; in fact, the crude induction exhibits a complete absence of scientific
understanding. Our scientific reasons for believing that the sun will rise
tomorrow are of an entirely different kind. We understand the functioning of the
solar system in terms of the laws of physics. We predict particular astronomical
occurrences by means of these laws in conjunction with a knowledge of particular
initial conditions that prevail. Scientific laws and theories have the logical
form of general statements, but they are seldom, if ever, simple generalizations
from experience.
39
Consider Newton's gravitational theory: Any two bodies are mutually attracted
by a force proportional to the product of their masses and inversely
proportional to the square of the distance between their centers. Although
general in form, this kind of statement is not established by generalization
from instances. We do not go around saying, "Here are two bodies--the force
between them is such and such; here are two more bodies--the force between them
is such and such; etc. " Scientific theories are taken quite literally as
hypotheses. They are entertained in order that their consequences may be drawn
and examined. Their acceptability is judged in terms of these consequences. The
consequences are extremely diverse--the greater the variety the better. For
Newtonian theory, we look to such consequences as the behavior of Mars, the
tides, falling bodies, the pendulum, and the torsion balance. These consequences
have no apparent unity among themselves; they do not constitute a basis for
inductive generalization. They achieve a kind of unity only by virtue of the
fact that they are consequences of a single physical theory.
40
The type of inference I have been characterizing is very familiar; it is
known as the hypothetico-deductive method.15 It stands in
sharp contrast to induction by enumeration, which consists in simple
inductive generalization from instances. Schematically, the hypothetico-deductive
method works as follows: From a general hypothesis and particular statements of
initial conditions, a particular predictive statement is deduced. The statements
of initial conditions, at least for the time, are accepted as true; the
hypothesis is the statement whose truth is at issue. By observation we determine
whether the predictive statement turned out to be true. If the predictive
consequence is false, the hypothesis is disconfirmed. If observation reveals
that the predictive statement is true, we say that the hypothesis is confirmed
to some extent. A hypothesis is not, of course, conclusively proved by anyone or
more positively confirming instances, but it may become highly confirmed. A
hypothesis that is sufficiently confirmed is accepted, at least tentatively.
41
It seems undeniable that science uses a type of inference at least loosely
akin to the hypothetico- deductive method.16 This has led some people
to conclude that the logic of science is thoroughly deductive in character.
According to this view, the only nondeductive aspect of the situation consists
in thinking up hypotheses, but this is not a matter of logic and therefore
requires no justification. It is a matter of psychological ingenuity of
discovery. Once the hypothesis has been discovered, by some entirely nonlogical
process, it remains only to deduce consequences and check them against
observation.
42
It is, of course, a fallacy to conclude that the premises of an argument must
be true if its conclusion is true. This fact seems to be the basis for the quip
that a logic text is a book that consists of two parts; in the first part (on
deduction) the fallacies are explained, in the second part (on induction) they
are committed. The whole trouble with saying that the hypothetico-deductive
method renders the logic of science entirely deductive is that we are attempting
to establish a premise of the deduction, not the conclusion. Deduction is
an indispensable part of the logic of the hypothetico-deductive method, but it
is not the only part. There is a fundamental and important sense in which the
hypothesis must be regarded as a conclusion instead of a premise. Hypotheses
(later perhaps called "theories" or "laws") are among the results
of scientific investigation; science aims at establishing general statements
about the world. Scientific prediction and explanation require such
generalizations. While we are concerned with the status of the general
hypothesis--whether we should accept it or reject it--the hypothesis must be
treated as a conclusion to be supported by evidence, not as a premise lending
support to other conclusions. The inference from observational evidence to
hypothesis is surely not deductive. If this point is not already obvious it
becomes clear the moment we recall that for any given body of observational data
there is, in general, more than one hypothesis compatible with it. These
alternative hypotheses differ in factual content and are incompatible with each
other. Therefore, they cannot be deductive consequences of any consistent body
of observational evidence.
43
We must grant, then, that science embodies a type of inference resembling the
hypothetico- deductive method and fundamentally different from induction by
enumeration. Hume, on the other hand, has sometimes been charged with a
conception of science according to which the only kind of reasoning is induction
by enumeration. His typical examples are cases of simple generalization of
observed regularities, something like our example of the licorice-flavored black
balls. In the past, water has quenched thirst; in the future, it will as well.
In the past, fires have been hot; in the future, they will be hot. In the past,
bread has nourished; in the future, it will do so likewise. It might be said
that Hume, in failing to see the essential role of the hypothetico-deductive
method, was unable to appreciate the complexity of the theoretical science of
his own time, to say nothing of subsequent developments. This is typical, some
might say, of the misunderstandings engendered by philosophers who undertake to
discuss the logic of science without being thoroughly conversant with
mathematics and natural science.
44
This charge against Hume (and other philosophers of induction) is
ill-founded. It was part of Hume's genius to have recognized that the arguments
he applied to simple enumerative induction apply equally to any kind of
ampliative or nondemonstrative inference whatever. Consider the most complex
kind of scientific reasoning--the most elaborate example of hypothetico-deductive
inference you can imagine. Regardless of subtle features or complications, it is
ampliative overall. The conclusion is a statement whose content exceeds the
observational evidence upon which it is based. A scientific theory that merely
summarized what had already been observed would not deserve to be called a
theory. If scientific inference were not ampliative, science would be useless
for prediction, postdiction, and explanation. The highly general results that
are the pride of theoretical science would be impossible if scientific inference
were not ampliative.
45
In presenting Hume's argument, I was careful to set it up so that it would
apply to any kind of ampliative or nondemonstrative inference, no matter how
simple or how complex. Furthermore, the distinction between valid deduction and
nondemonstrative inference is completely exhaustive. Take any inference
whatsoever. It must be deductive or nondemonstrative. Suppose it is
nondemonstratwe. If we could justify it deductively it would cease to be
nondemonstrative. To justify it nondemonstratively would presuppose an already
justified type of nondemonstrative inference, which is precisely the problem at
issue. Hume's argument does not break down when we consider forms more
complex than simple enumeration. Although the word "induction" is
sometimes used as a synonym for "induction by simple enumeration," I
am not using it in that way. Any type of logically correct ampliative inference
is induction; the problem of induction is to show that some particular form of
ampliative inference is justifiable. It is in this sense that we are concerned
with the problem of the justification of inductive inference.
46
A further misunderstanding is often involved in this type of criticism of
Hume. There is a strong inclination to suppose that induction is regarded as the
method by which scientific results are dis- covered.17 Hume and other
philosophers of induction are charged with the view that science has developed
historically through patient collection of facts and generalization from them. I
know of no philosopher--not even Francis Bacon!--who has held this view,
although it is frequently at tacked in the contemporary literature.18
The term "generalization" has an unfortunate ambiguity which fosters
the confusion. In one meaning, "generalization" refers to an
inferential process in which one makes a sort of mental transition from
particulars to a universal proposition; in this sense, generalization is an act
of generalizing--a process that yields general results. In another meaning,
"generalization" simply refers to a universal type or proposition,
without any reference to its source or how it was thought of. It is entirely
possible for science to contain many generalizations (in the latter sense)
without embodying any generalizations (in the former sense). As I said
explicitly at the outset, the problem of induction I am discussing is a problem
concerning justification, not discovery. The thesis I am defending--that science
does embody induction in a logically indispensable fashion--has nothing to do
with the history of science or the psychology of particular scientists. It is
simply the claim that scientific inference is ampliative.
3. Deductivism.
47
One of the most
interesting and controversial contemporary attempts to provide an account of the
logic of science is Karl Popper's deductivism.19 In the preceding
section I discussed the view that the presence of the hypothetico-deductive
method in the logic of science makes it possible to dispense with induction in
science and, thereby, to avoid the problem of induction. I argued that the
hypothetico-deductive method, since it is ampliative and nondemonstrative, is
not strictly deductive; it is, in fact, inductive in the relevant sense. As long
as the hypothetico-deductive method is regarded as a method for supporting
scientific hypotheses, it cannot succeed in making science thoroughly deductive.
Popper realizes this, so in arguing that deduction is the sole mode of inference
in science he rejects the hypothetico-deductive method as a means for confirming
scientific hypotheses. He asserts that induction plays no role whatever in
science; indeed, he maintains that there is no such thing as correct inductive
inference. Inductive logic is, according to Popper, a complete delusion. He
admits the psychological fact that people (including himself) have faith in the
uniformity of nature, but he holds, with Hume, that this can be no more than a
matter of psychological fact. He holds, with Hume, that there can be no rational
justification of induction, and he thinks Hume proved this point conclusively.
48
Popper's fundamental thesis is that falsifiability is the mark by which
statements of empirical science are distinguished from metaphysical statements
and from tautologies. The choice of falsifiability over verifiability as the
criterion of demarcation is motivated by a long familiar fact--namely, it is
possible to falsify a universal generalization by means of one negative
instance, while it is impossible to verify a universal generalization by any
limited number of positive instances. This, incidentally, is the meaning of the
old saw which is so often made into complete nonsense: "The exception
proves the rule." In this context, a rule is a universal
generalization, and the term "to prove" means archaically "to
test." The exception (i.e., the negative instance) proves (i.e., tests) the
rule (i.e., the universal generalization), not by showing it to be true, but by
showing it to be false. There is no kind of positive instance to prove (i.e.,
test) the rule, for positive instances are completely indecisive. Scientific
hypotheses, as already noted, are general in form, so they are amenable to
falsification but not verification.
49
Popper thus holds that falsifiability is the hallmark of empirical science.
The aim of empirical science is to set forth theories to stand the test of every
possible serious attempt at falsification. Scientific theories are hypotheses or
conjectures; they are general statements designed to explain the world and make
it intelligible, but they are never to be regarded as final truths. Their status
is always that of tentative conjecture, and they must continually face the
severest possible criti- cism. The function of the theoretician is to propose
scientific conjectures; the function of the experimentalist is to devise every
possible way of falsifying these theoretical hypotheses. The attempt to confirm
hypotheses is no part of the aim of science.20
50
General hypotheses by themselves do not entail any predictions of particular
events, but they do in conjunction with statements of initial conditions. The
laws of planetary motion in conjunction with statements about the relative
positions and velocities of the earth, sun, moon, and planets enable us to
predict a solar eclipse. The mode of inference is deduction. We have a high
degree of intersubjective agreement concerning the initial conditions, and we
likewise can obtain intersubjective agreement as to whether the sun's disc was
obscured at the predicted time and place. If the predicted fact fails to occur,
the theory has suffered falsification. Again, the mode of inference is
deduction. If the theory were true, then, given the truth of the statements of
initial conditions, the prediction would have to be true. The prediction, as it
happens, is false; therefore, the theory is false. This is the familiar
principle of modus tollens; it is, according to Popper, the only kind of
inference available for the acceptance or rejection of hypotheses, and it is
clearly suitable for rejection only.
51
Hypothetico-deductive theorists maintain that we have a confirming instance for the theory if the eclipse occurs as predicted. Confirming instances, they claim, tend to enhance the probability of the hypothesis or give it inductive support. With enough confirming instances of appropriate kinds, the probability of the hypothesis becomes great enough to warrant accepting it as true--not, of course, with finality and certainty, but provisionally. With sufficient inductive support of this kind we are justified in regarding it as well established. Popper, however, rejects the positive account, involving as it does the notion of inductive support. If a hypothesis is tested and the result is negative, we can reject it. If the test is positive, all we can say is that we have failed to falsify it. We cannot say that it has been confirmed or that it is, because of the positive test result, more probable. Popper does admit a notion of corroboration of hypotheses, but that is quite distinct from confirmation. We shall come to corroboration presently. For the moment, all we have are successful or unsuccessful attempts at falsification; all we can say about our hypotheses is that they are falsified or unfalsified. This is as far as inference takes us; according to Popper, this is the limit of logic. Popper therefore rejects the hypothetico-deductive method as it is usually characterized and accepts only the completely deductive modus tollens.
52
Popper--quite correctly I believe--denies that there are absolutely basic and
incorrigible protocol statements that provide the empirical foundation for all
of science. He does believe that there are relatively basic observation
statements about macroscopic physical occurrences concerning which we have a
high degree of intersubjective agreement. Normally, we can accept as
unproblematic such statements as, "There is a wooden table in this
room," "The pointer on this meter stands between 325 and 350,"
and "The rope just broke and the weight fell to the floor." Relatively
basic statements of this kind provide the observation base for empirical
science. This is the stuff of which empirical tests of scientific theories are
made.
53
Although Popper's basic statements must in the last analysis be considered
hypotheses, falsifiable and subject to test like other scientific hypotheses, it
is obvious that the kinds of hypotheses that constitute theoretical science are
far more general than the basic statements. But now we must face the grim fact
that valid deductive inference, although necessarily truth-preserving, is
nonampliative.21 It is impossible to deduce from accepted basic
statements any conclusion whose content exceeds that of the basic statements
themselves. Observation statements and deductive inference yield nothing that
was not stated by the observation statements themselves. If science consists
solely of observation statements and deductive inferences, then talk about
theories, their falsifiability, and their tests is empty. The content of science
is coextensive with the content of the statements used to describe what we
directly observe. There are no general theories, there is no predictive content,
there are no inferences to the remote past. Science is barren.
54
Consider a few simple time-honored examples. Suppose that the statement
"All ravens are black" has been entertained critically and subjected
to every attempt at falsification we can think of. Suppose it has survived all
attempts at falsification. What is the scientific content of all this? We can
say that "All ravens are black" has not been falsified, which is
equivalent to saying that we have not observed a nonblack raven. This statement
is even poorer in content than a simple recital of our color observations of
ravens. To say that the hypothesis has not been falsified is to say less than is
given in a list of our relevant observation statements. Or, consider the
generalization, "All swans are white." What have we said when we say
that this hypothesis has been falsified? We have said only that a nonwhite swan
has been found. Again, the information conveyed by this remark is less than we
would get from a simple account of our observations of swans.
55
Popper has never claimed that falsification by itself can establish
scientific hypotheses. When one particular hypothesis has been falsified, many
alternative hypotheses remain unfalsified. Likewise, there is nothing unique
about a hypothesis that survives without being falsified. Many other unfalsified
hypotheses remain to explain the same facts. Popper readily admits all of this.
If science is to amount to more than a mere collection of our observations and
various reformulation thereof, it must embody some other methods besides
observation and deduction. Popper supplies that additional factor: corroboration.22
56
When a hypothesis has been falsified, it is discarded and replaced by another
hypothesis which has not yet experienced falsification. Not all unfalsified
hypotheses are on a par. There are principles of selection among unfalsified
hypotheses. Again, falsifiability is the key. Hypotheses differ from one another
with respect to the ease with which they can be falsified, and we can often
compare them with respect to degree of falsifiability. Popper directs us to seek
hypotheses that are as highly falsifiable as possible. Science, he says, is
interested in bold conjectures. These conjectures must be consistent with the
known facts, but they must run as great a risk as possible of being controverted
by the facts still to be accumulated. Furthermore, the search for additional
facts should be guided by the effort to find facts that will falsify the
hypothesis.
57
As Popper characterizes falsifiability, the greater the degree of
falsifiability of a hypothesis, the greater its content. Tautologies lack
empirical content because they do not exclude any possible state of affairs;
they are compatible with any possible world. Empirical statements are not
compatible with every possible state of affairs; they are compatible with some
and incompatible with others. The greater the number of possible states of
affairs excluded by a statement, the greater its content, for the more it does
to pin down our actual world by ruling out possible but nonactual states of
affairs. At the same time, the greater the range of facts excluded by a
statement--the greater the number of situations with which the statement is
incompatible--the greater the risk it runs of being false. A statement with high
content has more potential falsifiers than a statement with low content.
For this reason, high content means high falsifiability. At the same time,
content varies inversely with probability. The logical probability of a
hypothesis is defined in terms of its range--that is, the possible states of
affairs with which it is compatible. The greater the logical probability of a
hypothesis, the fewer are its potential falsifiers. Thus, high probability means
low falsifiability.
58
Hypothetico-deductive theorists usually recommend selecting, from among those
hypotheses that are compatible with the available facts, the most probable
hypothesis. Popper recommends the opposite; he suggests selecting the most
falsifiable hypothesis. Thus, he recommends selecting a hypothesis with low
probability. According to Popper, a highly falsifiable hypothesis which is
severely tested becomes highly corroborated. The greater the severity of the
tests--the greater their number and variety--the greater the corroboration of
the hypothesis that survives them.
59
Popper makes it very clear that hypotheses are not regarded as true because
they are highly corroborated. Hypotheses cannot be firmly and finally
established in this or any other way. Furthermore, because of the inverse
relation between falsifiability and probability, we cannot regard highly
corroborated hypotheses as probable. To be sure, a serious attempt to falsify a
hypothesis which fails does add to the corroboration of this hypothesis, so
there is some similarity between corroboration and confirmation as hypothetico-deductive
theorists think of it, but it would be a misinterpretation to suppose that
increasing corroboration is a process of accumulating positive instances to
increase the probability of the hypothesis.23
60
Nevertheless, Popper does acknowledge the need for a method of selecting
among unfalsified hypotheses. He has been unequivocal in his emphasis upon the
indispensability of far-reaching theory in science. Empirical science is not an
activity of merely accumulating experiences; it is theoretical through and
through. Although we do not regard any hypotheses as certainly true, we do
accept them tentatively and provisionally. Highly corroborated hypotheses are
required for prediction and explanation. From among the ever present multiplicity
of hypotheses compatible with the available evidence, we select and accept.
61
There is just one point I wish to make here regarding Popper's theory. It is
not properly characterized as deductivism. Popper has not succeeded in
purging the logic of science of all inductive elements. My reason for saying
this is very simple. Popper furnishes a method for selecting hypotheses whose
content exceeds that of the relevant available basic statements. Demonstrative
inference cannot accomplish this task alone, for valid deductions are
nonampliative and their conclusions cannot exceed their premises in content.
Furthermore, Popper's theory does not pretend that basic statements plus
deduction can give us scientific theory; instead, corroboration is introduced.
Corroboration is a nondemonstrative form of inference. It is a way of providing
for the acceptance of hypotheses even though the content of these hypotheses
goes beyond the content of the basic statements. Modus tollens without
corroboration is empty; modus tollens with corroboration is induction.
62
When we ask, "Why should we reject a hypothesis when we have accepted one of its potential falsifiers?" the answer is easy. The potential falsifier contradicts the hypothesis, so the hypothesis is false if the potential falsifier holds. That is simple deduction. When we ask, "Why should we accept from among all the unfalsified hypotheses one that is highly corroborated?" we have a right to expect an answer. The answer is some kind of justification for the methodological rule--for the method of corroboration. Popper attempts to answer this question.
63
Popper makes it clear that his conception of scientific method differs in
important respects from the conceptions of many inductivists. I do not want to
quibble over a word in claiming that Popper is, himself, a kind of inductivist.
The point is not a trivial verbal one. Popper has claimed that scientific
inference is exclusively deductive. We have seen, however, that demonstrative
inference is not sufficient to the task of providing a reconstruction of the
logic of the acceptance--albeit tentative and provisional--of hypotheses. Popper
himself realizes this and introduces a mode of nondemonstrative inference. It
does not matter whether we call this kind of inference "induction";
whatever we call it, it is ampliative and not necessarily truth preserving.
Using the same force and logic with which Hume raised problems about the
justification of induction, we may raise problems about the justification of any
kind of nondemonstrative inference. As I argued in the preceding section, Hume's
arguments are not peculiar to induction by enumeration or any other special kind
of inductive inference; they apply with equal force to any inference whose
conclusion can be false, even though it has true premises. Thus, it will not do
to dismiss induction by enumeration on grounds of Hume's argument and then
accept some other mode of nondemonstrative inference without even considering
how Hume' s argument might apply to it. I am not arguing that Popper's method is
incorrect.24 I am not even arguing that Popper has failed in his
attempt to justify this method. I do claim that Popper is engaged in the same
task as many inductivists--namely, the task of providing some sort of
justification for a mode of nondemonstrative inference. This enterprise, if
successful, is a justification of induction.
. . . . . . . .
5. The Principle of Uniformity of Nature.
64
A substantial part
of Hume's critique of induction rested upon his attack on the principle of the
uniformity of nature. He argued definitively that the customary forms of
inductive inference cannot be expected to yield correct predictions if nature
fails to be uniform--if the future is not like the past--if like sensible
qualities are not accompanied by like results.
|
All inferences from experience suppose, as their foundation, that the future will resemble the past, and that similar powers will be conjoined with similar sensible qualities. If there be any suspicion that the course of nature may change, and that the past may be no rule for the future, all experience becomes useless, and can give rise to no inference or conclusion.25 |
65
He argued, moreover, that there is no logical contradiction in the
supposition that nature is not uniform--that the regularities we have observed
up to the present will fail in wholesale fashion in the future.
|
It implies no contradiction that the course of nature may change, and that an object, seemingly like those which we have experienced, may be attended with different or contrary effects. May I not clearly and distinctly conceive that a body, falling from the clouds, and which, in all other respects resembles snow, has yet the taste of salt or feeling of fire? Is there any more intelligible proposition than to affirm, that all the trees will flourish in December and January, and decay in May and June? Now whatever is intelligible, and can be distinctly conceived, implies no contradiction, and can never be proved false by any demonstrative argument. . . .26 |
66
He argues, in addition, that the principle of uniformity of nature cannot be
established by an inference from experience: "It is impossible, therefore,
that any arguments from experience can prove this resemblance of the past to the
future; since all these arguments are founded on the sup- position of that
resemblance. "27 Throughout Hume's discussion there is, however,
a strong suggestion that we might have full confidence in the customary
inductive methods if nature were known to be uniform.
67
Kant attempted to deal with the problem of induction in just this way, by
establishing a principle of uniformity of nature, in the form of the principle
of universal causation, as a synthetic a priori truth. Kant claimed, in
other words, that every occurrence is governed by causal regularities, and this
general characteristic of the universe can be established by pure reason,
without the aid of any empirical evidence. He did not try to show that the
principle of universal causation is a principle of logic, for to do so would
have been to show that it was analytic--not synthetic--and thus lacking in
factual content. He did not reject Hume's claim that there is no logical
contradiction in the statement that nature is not uniform; he did not try to
prove his principle of universal causation by deducing a contradiction from its
denial. He did believe, however, that this principle, while not a proposition of
pure logic, is necessarily true nevertheless. Hume, of course, argued against
this alternative as well. He maintained not only that the uniformity of nature
is not a logical or analytic truth, but also that it cannot be any other kind of
a priori truth either. Even before Kant had enunciated the doctrine of
synthetic a priori principles, Hume had offered strong arguments against
them:
|
I shall venture to affirm, as a general proposition, which admits of no exception, that the knowledge of this relation [of cause and effect] is not, in any instance, attained by reasonings a priori.28
Adam, though his rational faculties be supposed, at the very first, entirely perfect, could not have inferred from the fluidity and transparency of water that it would suffocate him, or from the light and warmth of fire that it would consume him.29
When we reason a priori, and consider merely any object or cause, as it appears to the mind, independent of all observation, it never could suggest to us the notion of any distinct object, such as its effect; much less, show us the inseparable and inviolable connexion between them. A man must be very sagacious who could discover by reasoning that crystal is the effect of heat, and ice of cold, without being previously acquainted with the operation of these qualities.30
Now whatever is intelligible, and can be distinctly conceived. . . can never be proved false by any. . . abstract reasoning a priori.31 |
68
Hume argues, by persuasive example and general principle, that nothing about
the causal structure of reality can be established by pure reason. He poses an
incisive challenge to those who would claim the ability to establish a priori
knowledge of a particular causal relation or of the principle of universal
causation. In the foregoing discussion of synthetic a priori statements, I have
given reasons for believing that Kant failed to overcome Hume's previous
objections.
69
There is, however, another interesting issue that arises in connection with
the principle of uniformity of nature. Suppose it could be established--never
mind how--prior to a justification of induction. Would it then provide an
adequate basis for a justification of induction? The answer is, I think,
negative.32
70
Even if nature is uniform to some extent, it is not absolutely uniform. The
future is something like the past, but it is somewhat different as well. Total
and complete uniformity would mean that the state of the universe at any given
moment is the same as its state at any other moment. Such a universe would be a
changeless, Parmenidean world. Change obviously does occur, so the future is not
exactly like the past. There are some uniformities, it appears, but not a
complete absence of change. The problem is how to ferret out the genuine
uniformities. As a matter of actual fact, there are many uniformities within
experience that we take to be mere coincidences, and there are others that
seem to represent genuine causal regularities. For instance, in every election
someone finds a precinct, say in Maryland, which has always voted in favor of
the winning presidential candidate. Given enough precincts, one expects this
sort of thing by sheer chance, and we classify such regularities as mere
coincidences. By contrast, the fact that glass windowpanes break when bricks are
hurled at them is more than mere coincidence. Causal regularities provide a
foundation for inference from the observed to the unobserved; coincidences do
not. We can predict with some confidence that the next glass window pane at
which a brick is hurled will break; we take with a grain of salt the prediction
of the outcome of a presidential election early on election night when returns
from the above-mentioned precinct are in. The most that a principle of
uniformity of nature could say is that there are some uniformities that persist
into the future; if it stated that every regularity observed to hold within the
scope of our experience also holds universally, it would be patently false. We
are left with the problem of finding a sound basis for distinguishing between
mere coincidence and genuine causal regularity.
71
Kant's principle of universal causation makes a rather weak and guarded
statement. It asserts only that there exist causal regularities:
"Everything that happens presupposes something from which it follows
according to some rule." For each occurrence it claims only the existence
of some prior cause and some causal regularity. It gives no hint
as to how we are to find the prior cause or how we are to identify the causal
regularity. It therefore provides no basis upon which to determine whether the
inductive inferences we make are correct or incorrect. It would be entirely
consistent with Kant's principle for us always to generalize on the basis of
observed coincidences and always to fail to generalize on the basis of actual
causal relations. It would be entirely consistent with Kant's principle,
moreover, for us always to cite a coincidentally preceding event as the cause
instead of the event that is the genuine cause. Kant's principle, even if it
could be established, would not help us to justify the assertion that our
inductive inferences would always or usually be correct. It would provide no
criterion to distinguish sound from unsound inductions. Even if Kant's program
had succeeded in establishing a synthetic a priori principle of universal
causation, it would have failed to produce a justification of induction.
. . . . . . . .
7. A Probabilistic Approach.
72
It may seem
strange in the extreme that this discussion of the problem of induction has
proceeded at such great length without seriously bringing in the concept of
probability. It is very tempting to react immediately to Hume's argument with
the admission that we do not have knowledge of the unobserved. Scientific
results are not established with absolute certainty. At best we can make
probabilistic statements about unobserved matters of fact, and at best we can
claim that scientific generalizations and theories are highly confirmed. We who
live in an age of scientific empiricism can accept with perfect equanimity the
fact that the quest for certainty is futile; indeed, our thanks go to Hume for
helping to destroy false hopes for certainty in science.
73
Hume's search for a justification of induction, it might be continued, was
fundamentally misconceived. He tried to find a way of proving that inductive
inferences with true premises would have true conclusions. He properly
failed to find any such justification precisely because it is the function of deduction
to prove the truth of conclusions, given true premises. Induction has a
different function. An inductive inference with true premises establishes its
conclusions as probable. No wonder Hume failed to find a justification of
induction. He was trying to make induction into deduction, and he succeeded only
in proving the platitude that induction is not deduction.33 If we
want to justify induction, we must show that inductive inferences establish
their conclusions as probable, not as true.
74
The foregoing sort of criticism of Hume's arguments is extremely appealing,
and it has given rise to the most popular sort of attempt, currently, to deal
with the problem.34 In order to examine this approach, we must
consider, at least superficially, the meaning of the concept of probability. Two
basic meanings must be taken into account at present.
75
One leading probability concept identifies probability with
frequency--roughly, the probable is that which happens often, and the improbable
is that which happens seldom. Let us see what becomes of Hume's argument under
this interpretation of probability. If we were to claim that inductive
conclusions are probable in this sense, we would be claiming that inductive
inferences with true premises often have true conclusions, although not always.
Hume's argument shows, unhappily, that this claim cannot be substantiated. It
was recognized long before Hume that inductive inferences cannot be expected
always to lead to the truth. Hume's argument shows, not only that we cannot
justify the claim that every inductive inference with true premises will
have a true conclusion, but also, that we cannot justify the claim that any inductive
inference with true premises will have a true conclusion. Hume's argument shows
that, for all we can know, every inductive inference made from now on might have
a false conclusion despite true premises. Thus, Hume has proved, we can show
neither that inductive inferences establish their conclusions as true nor that
they establish their conclusions as probable in the frequency sense. The
introduction of the frequency concept of probability gives no help whatever in
circumventing the problem of induction, but this is no surprise, for we should
not have expected it to be suitable for this purpose.
76
A more promising probability concept identifies probability with degree of
rational belief. To say that a statement is probable in this sense means that
one would be rationally justified in believing it; the degree of probability is
the degree of assent a person would be rationally justified in giving. We are
not, of course, referring to the degree to which anyone actually believes
in the statement, but rather to the degree to which one could rationally believe
it. Degree of actual belief is a purely psychological concept, but degree of
rational belief is determined objectively by the evidence. To say that a
statement is probable in this sense means that it is supported by evidence. But,
so the argument goes, if a statement is the conclusion of an inductive inference
with true premises, it is supported by evidence--by inductive
evidence--this is part of what it means to be supported by evidence. The
very concept of evidence depends upon the nature of induction, and it becomes
incoherent if we try to divorce the two. Trivially, then, the conclusion of an
inductive inference is probable under this concept of probability. To ask, with
Hume, if we should accept inductive conclusions is tantamount to asking if we
should fashion our beliefs in terms of the evidence, and this, in turn, is
tantamount to asking whether we should be rational. In this way we arrive at an
"ordinary language dissolution" of the problem of induction. Once we
understand clearly the meanings of such key terms as "rational,"
"probable," and "evidence," we see that the problem arose
out of linguistic confusion and evaporates into the question of whether it is
rational to be rational. Such tautological questions, if meaningful at all,
demand affirmative answers.
77
Unfortunately, the dissolution is not satisfactory.35 Its
inadequacy can be exhibited by focusing upon the concept of inductive evidence
and seeing how it figures in the foregoing argument. The fundamental difficulty
arises from the fact that the very notion of inductive evidence is determined by
the rules of inductive inference. If a conclusion is to be supported by
inductive evidence, it must be the conclusion of a correct inductive inference
with true premises. Whether the inductive inference is correct depends upon
whether the rule governing that inference is correct. The relation of inductive
evidential support is, therefore, inseparably bound to the correctness of rules
of inductive inference. In order to be able to say whether a given statement is
supported by inductive evidence we must be able to say which inductive rules are
correct.
78
For example, suppose that a die has been thrown a large number of times, and
we have observed that the side two came up in one sixth of the tosses. This is
our "evidence" e. Let h be
the conclusion that, "in the long run," side two will come up one
sixth of the times. Consider the following three rules:
|
1. (Induction by enumeration.) Given m/n of observed A are B, to infer that the "long run" relative frequency of B among A is m/n.
|
79
Under Rule 1, e is positive evidence for h;
under Rule 2, e is irrelevant to h; and
under Rule 3, e is negative evidence for h.
In order to say which conclusions are supported by what evidence, it is
necessary to arrive at a decision as to what inductive rules are acceptable. If
Rule 1 is correct, the evidence e supports the conclusion h.
If Rule 2 is correct, we are justified in drawing the conclusion h,
but this is entirely independent of the observational evidence e;
the same conclusions would have been sanctioned by Rule 2 regardless of
observational evidence. If Rule 3 is correct, we are not only prohibited from
drawing the conclusion h, but also we are permitted to draw
a conclusion h' which is logically incompatible with h.
Whether a given conclusion is supported by evidence--whether it would
be rational to believe it on the basis of given evidence--whether it is made
probable by virtue of its relation to given evidence--depends upon selection
of the correct rule or rules from among the infinitely many rules we might
conceivably adopt.
80
The problem of induction can now be reformulated as a problem about evidence.
What rules ought we to adopt to determine the nature of inductive evidence? What
rules provide suitable concepts of inductive evidence? If we take the customary
inductive rules to define the concept of inductive evidence, have we adopted a
proper concept of evidence? Would the adoption of some alternative inductive
rules provide a more suitable concept of evidence? These are genuine questions
which need to be answered.36
81
We find, moreover, that what appeared earlier as a pointless question now
becomes significant and difficult. If we take the customary rules of inductive
inference to provide a suitable definition of the relation of inductive
evidential support, it makes considerable sense to ask whether it is rational to
believe on the basis of evidence as thus defined rather than to believe on the
basis of evidence as defined according to other rules. For instance, I believe
that the a priori rule and the counterinductive rule mentioned above are
demonstrably unsatisfactory, and hence, they demonstrably fail to provide a
suitable concept of inductive evidence. The important point is that something
concerning the selection from among possible rules needs demonstration and is
amenable to demonstration.
82
There is danger of being taken in by an easy equivocation. One meaning we may
assign to the concept of inductive evidence is, roughly, the basis on which we
ought to fashion our beliefs. Another meaning results from the relation of
evidential support determined by whatever rule of inductive inference we adopt.
It is only by supposing that these two concepts are the same that we suppose the
problem of induction to have vanished. The problem of induction is still there;
it is the problem of providing adequate grounds for the selection of inductive
rules. We want the relation of evidential support determined by these rules to
yield a concept of inductive evidence which is, in fact, the basis on which we
ought to fashion our beliefs.37
83
We began this initially promising approach to the problem of the
justification of induction by introducing the notion of probability, but we end
with a dilemma. If we take "probability" in the frequency sense, it is
easy to see why it is advisable to accept probable conclusions in preference to
improbable ones. In so doing we shall be right more often. Unfortunately, we
cannot show that inferences conducted according to any particular rule establish
conclusions that are probable in this sense. If we take "probability"
in a nonfrequency sense it may be easy to show that inferences which conform to
our accepted inductive rules establish their conclusions as probable.
Unfortunately, we can find no reason to prefer conclusions which are probable in
this sense to those that are improbable. As Hume has shown, we have no reason to
suppose that probable conclusions will often be true and improbable ones will
seldom be true. This dilemma is Hume's problem of induction all over again. We
have been led to an interesting reformulation, but it is only a reformulation
and not a solution.
8. Pragmatic
Justification.
84
Of all the
solutions and dissolutions proposed to deal with Hume's problem of induction,
Hans Reichenbach's attempt to provide a pragmatic justification seems to me the
most fruitful and promising.38 This approach accepts Hume's arguments
up to the point of agreeing that it is impossible to establish, either
deductively or inductively, that any inductive inferences will ever again have
true conclusions. Nevertheless, Reichenbach claims, the standard method of
inductive generalization can be justified. Although its success as a
method of prediction cannot be established in advance, it can be shown to be
superior to any alternative method of prediction.
85
The argument can be put rather simply. Nature may be sufficiently uniform in
suitable respects for us to make successful inductive inferences from the
observed to the unobserved. On the other hand, for all we know, she may not.
Hume has shown that we cannot prove in advance which case holds. All we can say
is that nature mayor may not be uniform-if she is, induction works; if she is
not, induction fails. Even in the face of our ignorance about the uniformity of
nature, we can ask what would happen if we adopted some radically different
method of inference. Consider, for instance, the method of the crystal gazer.
Since we do not know whether nature is uniform or not, we must consider both
possibilities. If nature is uniform, the method of crystal gazing might work
successfully, or it might fail. We cannot prove a priori that it will not
work. At the same time, we cannot prove a priori that it will work, even
if nature exhibits a high degree of uniformity. Thus, in case nature is
reasonably uniform, the standard inductive method must work while the
alternative method of crystal gazing mayor may not work. In this case,
the superiority of the standard inductive method is evident. Now, suppose nature
lacks uniformity to such a degree that the standard inductive method is a
complete failure. In this case, Reichenbach argues, the alternative method must
likewise fail. Suppose it did not fail--suppose, for instance, that the method
of crystal gazing worked consistently. This would constitute an important
relevant uniformity that could be exploited inductively. If a crystal gazer had
consistently predicted future occurrences, we could infer inductively that he
has a method of prediction that will enjoy continued success. The inductive
method would, in this way, share the success of the method of crystal gazing,
and would therefore be, contrary to hypothesis, successful. Hence, Reichenbach
concludes, the standard inductive method will be successful if any other
method could succeed. As a result, we have everything to gain and nothing to
lose by adopting the inductive method. If any method works, induction works. If
we adopt the inductive method and it fails, we have lost nothing, for any other
method we might have adopted would likewise have failed. Reichenbach does not
claim to prove that nature is uniform, or that the standard inductive method
will be successful. He does not postulate the uniformity of nature. He tries to
show that the inductive method is the best method for ampliative inference,
whether it turns out to be successful or not.
86
This ingenious argument, although extremely suggestive, is ultimately
unsatisfactory. As I have just presented it, it is impossibly vague. I have not
specified the nature of the standard inductive method. I have not stated with
any exactness what constitutes success for the inductive method or any other.
Moreover, the uniformity of nature is not an all-or-none affair. Nature appears
to be uniform to some extent and also to be lacking in uniformity to some
degree. As we have already seen, it is not easy to state a principle of
uniformity that is strong enough to assure the success of inductive inference
and weak enough to be plausible. The vagueness of the foregoing argument is not,
however, its fundamental drawback. It can be made precise, and I shall do so
below in connection with the discussion of the frequency interpretation of
probability.39 When it is made precise,...it suffers the serious
defect of equally justifying too wide a variety of rules for ampliative
inference.
87
I have presented Reichenbach's argument rather loosely in order to make
intuitively clear its basic strategy. The sense in which it is a pragmatic
justification should be clear. Unlike many authors who have sought a
justification of induction, Reichenbach does not try to prove the truth of any
synthetic proposition. He recognizes that the problem concerns the justification
of a rule, and rules are neither true nor false. Hence, he tries to show that
the adoption of a standard inductive rule is practically useful in the attempt
to learn about and deal with the unobserved. He maintains that this can be shown
even though we cannot prove the truth of the assertion that inductive methods
will lead to predictive success. This pragmatic aspect is, it seems to me, the
source of the fertility of Reichenbach's approach. Even though his argument does
not constitute an adequate justification of induction, it seems to me to provide
a valid core from which we may attempt to develop a more satisfactory
justification.
III. Significance
of the Problem
88
Hume's problem of
induction evokes, understandably, a wide variety of reactions. It is not
difficult to appreciate the response of the man engaged in active scientific
research or practical affairs who says, in effect, "Don't bother me with
these silly puzzles; I'm too busy doing science, building bridges, or managing
affairs of state." No one, including Hume, seriously suggests any
suspension of scientific investigation or practical decision pending a solution
of the problem of induction. The problem concerns the foundations of
science. As Hume eloquently remarks in
Enquiry Concerning Human
Understanding:
|
Let the course of things be allowed hitherto ever so regular; that alone, without some new argument or inference, proves not that, for the future, it will continue so. In vain do you pretend to have learned the nature of bodies from your past experience. Their secret nature, and consequently all their effects and influence, may change, without any change in their sensible qualities. This happens sometimes, and with regard to some objects: Why may it not happen always, and with regard to all objects? What logic, what process of argument secures you against this supposition? My practice, you say, refutes my doubts. But you mistake the purport of my question. As an agent, I am quite satisfied in the point; but as a philosopher, who has some share of curiosity, I will not say scepticism, I want to learn the foundation of this inference. |
We should know by now that the foundations of a subject are usually
established long after the subject has been well developed, not before. To
suppose otherwise would be a glaring example of "naive first-things-firstism."40
89
Nevertheless, there is something intellectually disquieting about a serious
gap in the foundations of a discipline, and it is especially disquieting when
the discipline in question is so broad as to include the whole of empirical
science, all of its applications, and indeed, all of common sense. As human
beings we pride ourselves on rationality--so much so that for centuries
rationality was enshrined as the very essence of humanity and the characteristic
that distinguishes man from the lower brutes. Questionable as such pride may be,
our intellectual consciences should be troubled by a gaping lacuna in the
structure of our knowledge and the foundations of scientific inference. I do not
mean to suggest that the structure of empirical science is teetering because of
foundational difficulties; the architectural metaphor is really quite
inappropriate. I do suggest that intellectual integrity requires that
foundational problems not be ignored.
90
Each of two opposing attitudes has its own immediate appeal. One of these claims
that the scientific method is so obviously the correct method that there
is no need to waste our time trying to show that this is so. There are two
difficulties. First, we have enough painful experience to know that the appeal
to obviousness is dangerously likely to be an appeal to prejudice and
superstition. What is obvious to one age or culture may well turn out, on closer
examination, to be just plain false. Second, if the method of science is so
obviously superior to other methods we might adopt, then I should think we ought
to be able to point to those characteristics of the method by which it gains its
obvious superiority.
91
The second tempting attitude is one of pessimism. In the face of Hume's
arguments and the failure of many attempts to solve the problem, it is easy to
conclude that the problem is hopeless. Whether motivated by Hume's arguments or,
as is probably more often the case, by simple impatience with foundational
problems, this attitude seems quite widespread. It is often expressed by the
formula that science is, at bottom, a matter of faith. While it is no part of my
purpose to launch a wholesale attack on faith as such, this attitude toward the
foundations of scientific inference is unsatisfactory. The crucial fact is that
science makes a cognitive claim, and this cognitive claim is a
fundamental part of the rationale for doing science at all. Hume has presented
us with a serious challenge to that cognitive claim. If we cannot legitimize the
cognitive claim, it is difficult to see what reason remains for doing science.
Why not turn to voodoo, which would be simpler, cheaper, less time consuming,
and more fun?
92
If science is basically a matter of faith, then the scientific faith exists
on a par with other faiths. Although we may be culturally conditioned to accept
this faith, others are not. Science has no ground on which to maintain its cognitive
superiority to any form of irrationalism, however repugnant. This situation
is, it seems to me, intellectually and socially undesirable. We have had enough
experience with various forms of irrationalism to recognize the importance of
being able to distinguish them logically from genuine science. I find it
intolerable to suppose that a theory of biological evolution, supported as it is
by extensive scientific evidence, has no more rational foundation than has its
rejection by ignorant fundamentalists. I, too, have faith that the scientific
method is especially well suited for establishing knowledge of the unobserved,
but I believe this faith should be justified. It seems to me extremely important
that some people should earnestly seek a solution to this problem concerning the
foundations of scientific inference.
93
One cannot say in advance what consequences will follow from a solution to a
foundational problem. It would seem to depend largely upon the nature of the
solution. But a discipline with well-laid foundations is surely far more
satisfactory than one whose foundations are in doubt. We have only to compare
the foundationally insecure calculus of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries
with the calculus of the late nineteenth century to appreciate the gains in
elegance, simplicity, and rigor. Furthermore, the foundations of calculus
provided a basis for a number of other developments, interesting in their own
right and greatly extending the power and fertility of the original theory. Whether
similar extensions will occur as a result of a satisfactory resolution of Hume's
problem is a point on which it would be rash to hazard any prediction, but we
know from experience that important consequences result from the most unexpected
sources. The subsequent discussion of the foundations of probability will
indicate directions in which some significant consequences may be found, but for
the moment it will suffice to note that a serious concern for the solution of
Hume's problem cannot fail to deepen our understanding of the nature of
scientific inference. This, after all, is the ultimate goal of the whole
enterprise.
Notes
This book [The Foundations of Scientific Inference] is based upon five lectures in the Philosophy of Science Series at the University of Pittsburgh. The first two lectures, Foundations of Scientific Inference: I. The Problem of Induction, II. Probability and Induction, were presented in March 1963. The next two lectures, Inductive Inference in Science: I. Hypothetico-Deductive Arguments, II. Plausibility Arguments, were delivered in October 1964. The final lecture, A Priori Knowledge, was given in October 1965. The author wishes to express his gratitude to the National Science Foundation and the Minnesota Center for Philosophy of Science for support of research on inductive logic and probability.
1. David Hume, Enquiry Concerning Human Under- standing, see IV, I.
2. Ibid.
3. For a more detailed account of the relation between deductive validity and factual content, see p.24.
4. The problem of the synthetic a priori is discussed earlier, in sec. II, 4, pp. 27-40 [of Salmon's Foundations of Scientific Inference, from which this selection is excerpted].
5. Hume, Human Understanding.
6. Ibid.
7. Max Black, Problems of Analysis (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1954), Chap. II.
8. Ibid., pp. 196-97.
9. Lewis Carroll, "What the Tortoise Said to Achilles," in The Complete Works of Lewis Carroll (New York: Random House, n.d.).
10. I presented the following self-supporting argument for the counterinductive method in "Should We Attempt to Justify Induction?" Philosophical Studies, 8 (April 1957), pp. 45-47. Max Black in "Self-supporting Inductive Arguments," Models and Metaphors (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1962), Chap. 12, replies to my criticism, but he does not succeed in shaking the basic point: The counterinductive rule is related to its self-supporting argument in precisely the same way as the standard inductive rule is related to its self-supporting argument. This is the "cash value" of claiming that the self-supporting argument is circular. Peter Achinstein, "The Circularity of a Self- supporting Inductive Argument," Analysis, 22 (June 1962), considers neither my formulation nor Black's answer sufficient, so he makes a further attempt to show circularity. Black's reply is found in "Self-Support and Circularity: A Reply to Mr. Achinstein," Analysis. 23 (December 1962). Achinstein's rejoinder is "Circularity and Induction," Analysis, 23 (June 1963).
11. Max Black, "The Justification of Induction," Language and Philosophy (Ithaca: Cornell Univer- sity Press, 1949), Chap. 3. The view he expresses in this essay, I believe, is closely related to the "probabilistic approach" I discuss in sec. II, 7, pp. 280-82.
12. Max Black, Problems of Analysis, p. 191.
13. Ibid., p. 206.
14. Compare Richard Bevan Braithwaite, Scientific Explanation (New York: Hmper & Row, 1960), Chap. 8. I think the same general view is to be found in A. J. Ayer, The Problem of Knowledge (Baltimore: Penguin Books, 1956), p. 75. I have discussed Ayer's view in "The Concept of Inductive Evidence," American Philosophical Quarterly, 2 (October 1965).
15. See Braithwaite for a systematic exposition of this conception.
16. Sec. VII, pp. 108-31 [of Salmon's Foundations of Scientific Inference]. "The Confirmation of Scientific Hypotheses" is devoted to a detailed analysis of this type of inference.
17. See John Patrick Day, Inductive Probability (New York: Humanities Press, 1961), p. 6. The nineteenth-century notion that induction is a process of discovery and the problem of whether there can be a logic of discovery are discussed earlier in sec. VII, pp. 109-14 [of Salmon's Foundations of Scientific Inference.]
18. See e.g., Karl R. Popper, The Logic of Scientific Discovery (New York: Basic Books, 1959), sec. 30, and Thomas S. Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1962). A fuller discussion of the relations among such concepts as deductive validity and content is given earlier in sec. II, 4, especially p. 33 [of Salmon's Foundations of Scientific Inference].
19. The most comprehensive statement of Popper's position is to be found in The Logic of Scientific Discovery. This is the English translation, with additions, of Karl R. Popper, Logik der Forschung (Vienna, 1934).
20. "I think that we shall have to get accustomed to the idea that we must not look upon science as a 'body of knowledge,' but rather as a system of hypotheses; that is to say, a system of guesses or anticipations which in principle cannot be justified, but with which we work as long as they stand up to tests, and of which we are never justified in saying that we know that they are 'true' or 'more or less certain' or even 'probable.' " The Logic of Scientific Discovery, p. 317.
21. I believe Popper openly acknowledges the non-ampliative character of deduction. See "Why Are the Calculi of Logic and Arithmetic Applicable to Reality," in Karl R. Popper, Conjectures and Refutations (New York: Basic Books, 1962), Chap. 9.
22. See The Logic of Scientific Discovery, Chap. 10. 23. Ibid., p. 270.
24. I return to Popper's methodological views in the discussion of confirmation in sec. VII [of Foundations of Scientific Inference.] In that context I shall exhibit what I take to be the considerable valid content of Popper's account of the logic of science. See pp. 114-21.
25. David Hume, Human Understanding, sec. IV.
26. Ibid.
27. Ibid.
28. Ibid.
29. Ibid.
30. Ibid.
31. Ibid.
32. Wesley C. Salmon, "The Uniformity of Nature," Philosophy and Phenomenological Research, 14 (September 1953).
33. Max Black, "The Justification of Induction," in Language and Philosophy.
34. Among the authors who subscribe to approaches similar to this are A. J. Ayer, Language. Truth and Logic (New York: Dover Publications, 1952); Paul Edwards, "Russell's Doubts about Induction," Mind, 58 (1949), pp. 141-63; Asher Moore, "The Principle of Induction," Journal of Philosophy, 49 (1952), pp. 741-58; Arthur Pap, Elements of Analytic Philosophy (New York: Macmillan, 1949), and An Introduction to the Philosophy of Science; and P. F. Strawson, Introduction to Logical Theory (London: Methuen, 1952).
35. I have criticized this type of argument at some length in "Should We Attempt To Justify Induction?" Philosophical Studies, 8 (April 1957), and in "The Concept of Inductive Evidence," American Philosophical Quarterly, 2 (October 1965). This latter article is part of a "Symposium on Inductive Evidence" in which Stephen Barker and Henry E. Kyburg, Jr., defend against the attack. See their comments and my rejoinder.
36. This point has enormous import for any attempt to construct an inductive justification of induction. To decide whether the fact that induction has been successful in the past is positive evidence, negative evidence, or no evidence at all begs the very question at issue.
37. As I attempted to show in "Should We Attempt to Justify Induction?" this equivocation seems to arise out of a failure to distinguish validation and vindication. This crucial distinction is explicated by Herbert Feigl, "De Principiis non Disputandum . . . ?" in Philosophical Analysis, ed. Max Black (Ithaca: Cornell U. Press, 1950).
38. Hans Reichenbach, Experience and Prediction (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1938), Chap. 5, and The Theory of Probability (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1949), Chap. II.
39. Sec. V, 5, pp. 83-96 [of Salmon's Foundations of Scientific Inference].
40. Leonard J. Savage, The Foundations of Statistics (New York: Wiley, 1954), p. 1.