Cheryl E. Fitzgerald
The Utility
of Accepting Maher's Theory of Verisimilitude: A Look at Betting on Theories
Maher defines verisimilitude as
"essentially a measure of the cognitive utility of accepting a hypothesis
under different circumstances" (Maher, 226). Simply put this amounts to
saying that verisimilitude measures how much one is willing to bet or risk
accepting a theory; what is at risk and how will be explicated further
ahead. Acceptance of a theory must
be understood to mean accepting a theory into one's total corpus of
beliefs—holism—not
simply accepting the theory by itself (Maher, 142), for the cognitive utility
will include how well the theory in question is consistent with one's total
corpus. Verisimilitude here is concerned with closeness to the whole truth, not just a theory's closeness to
being true; however, this latter notion is a part of how one gets to a measure
of verisimilitude. 'How much one is willing to bet inevitably means that the notion of
verisimilitude put forth here is subjective, and varies from person to person:
rather than it being a measure of the actual closeness of a theory to the
truth, it is instead a measure of the expected closeness to the truth (Maher,
229). I find this theory
preferable to explications of verisimilitude as an objective measure of the
actual closeness to the truth.
Maher is motivated by the question, under
what conditions do we accept a scientific theory and why? Acceptance of a
theory is a choice of action, and Maher's book is an attempt to explain that
choice—utilizing Bayesian decision theory—and how to make that
choice rationally and scientifically. An essential aspect of his project is
that he is trying to adequately represent how some scientists actually do make choices about accepting theories, not how scientists necessarily ought to. This results in a desirable feature,
namely, that Maher's theory can coexist with other theories concerning science
and acceptance of theories, such as van Fraassen's (Maher, 240-3). Maher
disagrees with van Fraassen on a few details, but the point is that their
theories can coexist, for there may be some scientists that behave in the way
van Fraassen believes they do and there may be some that behave in the way
Maher believes they do. But how a person behaves will depend on his or her
values; thus, Maher defines what count as scientific values, and these values play a role in
cognitive utility and, thus, verisimilitude.
Cognitive utility is the maximal expected utility of
cognitive acts (Maher, x), such as accepting a theory, as opposed to physical
acts, such as taking an umbrella with me on my errands. Maximal expected
utility is a function
over probabilities of states and utilities of consequences (Maher, 1). Probabilities of states are determined by the available
evidence of the current state and possible states, such as whether or not it
will rain while I am out on my errands, and should be understood here
specifically as subjective probability (Maher, Ch. 4). Utilities of consequences are determined by one's
preferences over the options, the respective consequences of the different acts
I may choose (Maher, Ch. 1), such as not getting wet as the result of my
decision to take an umbrella on my errands. For acts of acceptance, the
consequences will include how a theory coheres with my total corpus. If a
theory is contradictory to many of my core beliefs, this will negatively affect
the utility of accepting the theory. If a theory is not only consistent with my
total corpus but also explains some of my core beliefs, this will positively
affect the utility of accepting the theory. Preferences for certain consequences over others is
a product of one's values[1], such as my valuing not getting wet
while I am on my errands. Thus, values play the starting point of how one makes
decisions, and what kinds of values a person has will affect whether or not a
person's decisions are rational. Verisimilitude is concerned with values that
are both rational and
scientific.
There are five values that Maher defines
as scientific values.
The first is a respect for truth. This means that one must value a true theory
at least as much as a false theory: one cannot value false theories over true
theories (Maher. 210-12). In cases where the truth is not known, one must use
probability as a measure, so that one should value a more probable theory in
light of the evidence. The second is a respect for information (Maher, 213).
This value stems from the view that science aims to have informative theories, not simply true theories. The
result is that a person must be motivated to either accept theories that are
revised and expanded in order to account for new observations or discard old
theories for new ones that better account for new observations. The third is
that one must value a true theory over completely withholding judgment, i.e.,
agnosticism is not a valuable position when a true theory is available (Maher,
214). The fourth is that one must value the whole truth no matter what the
truth turns out to be (Maher, 214). This means that science should be an
impartial endeavor. The fifth and last is that one must value the truth over
contradiction, and in fact, one cannot even weakly prefer a contradiction to
the truth (Maher, 216). These five values do not comprise an exhaustive list of
scientific values, but Maher admits that he cannot think of any other plausible
possibilities (Maher, 216). Thus, one needs to have at least these five values
to be scientific.
Values lead one to be disposed[2] to act a certain way, namely, to act in
such a way that maximally satisfies one's values. This is another way of
stating that we have preferences for our actions--those actions that satisfy our
values. Preferences for certain actions are preferences for the consequences of
those actions, which are, in this case, the satisfaction of our values. The
consequence of my taking my umbrella with me on my errands is that I do not get
wet, and my not getting wet satisfies my value of not getting wet, because
frankly, I don't enjoy going to the store while wearing wet clothes.
Analogously, the consequences of accepting Einstein's theories of relativity
over Newtonian physics satisfies my values of accepting theories that accord
better with the observations (a scientific value). A preference for the consequences of
some act is the utility
of that act.
But if one wants to be scientific, or at
least rational, the utility of an act cannot be the only factor in deciding
whether or not to perform the act, for no matter what I prefer, the actual
state of affairs has no obligation to accord with what I want. If the actual state of affairs played
no part, then I would prefer not to carry an umbrella for the simple fact that
it can pose an inconvenience to me: it's another thing I have to carry and not
accidentally leave somewhere, and at times it can be cumbersome. But the actual
state of affairs does
play a part, and from here there is a high probability that it will rain. The
high probability of rain changes my initial preference of not carrying an
umbrella, for the probability of rain forces me to consider another one of my
values, namely, not getting wet. My preferences are forced to interact with a
real world: my dispositions affect me to act a certain way, but there is an
external environment that affects me as well.
Thus, probability must also play a role in
one's decisions to act, and the case is no different when that action is a
cognitive act such as acceptance. But some philosophers have claimed that a
theory based on values and subjective probabilities is too subjective, and that a disagreement
between two scientists with differing values and probabilities cannot be
resolved (Maher, 216-17). However, this view does not take into consideration
the principle of conditionalization[3] (Maher, 85): new evidence and
observations would shift the subjective probabilities of the theory, either up
or down, enough so that one of the scientists, if he has the minimum of
scientific values, namely, those listed above, would have to change his
subjective probability for the theory (Maher, 217). Disagreement can always be
resolved as long as all parties have the minimum set of scientific values and
enough observation and evidence can be gathered.
Of the scientific values listed, four of
them are concerned with valuing truth and one of them is concerned with valuing
information. Maher states, and many other philosophers have stated, that
science aims at accepting theories that are both true and informative, and this follows from that list of
scientific values.
Acceptance involves a trade-off of two
competing considerations: the concern to be right (which would lead one to
accept hypotheses of high probability), and the desire for informative
hypotheses (which tends to favor hypotheses with low probability). Thus, a
theory of acceptance needs to take into account the scientist's goals or
values, and specifically the relative weights put on the goals of truth and
informativeness (Maher, 140).
Since truth and informativeness are both
considerations for accepting a theory, both are factors in verisimilitude. This
makes verisimilitude the measure of the subjective "trade-off between the
two competing goals, again, how much one is willing to bet or risk for accepting a theory.
But while truth and informativeness are
both valuable, they do not have the same measure of value to each person: some
scientists will value truth and high probability more than informativeness and
vice versa. Thus, the measure of
verisimilitude for a theory will inevitably vary from person to person
depending on how much one is willing to risk for information. The larger the
informational content of a theory the harsher the consequences will be if the
theory is wrong, for example, a much larger setback to progress than if the
content were less. To repeat, verisimilitude is a measure of the
"trade-off between the two competing goals, meaning that there are three
factors in the formula: informational content, the truth the theory, a.k.a.,
the distance from the truth, and the weight, or risk or "trade-off, one
is willing to put on the informational content.
The informational content of the theory
is a measure of how much the theory answers one's cognitive questions and
values, and is, thus, subjective (Maher, 231). In the case of scientific
values, how much a theory answers to those values is inevitably to some degree
indeterminate. Because our scientific values are concerned with truth and
informativeness they require us to choose theories with high measures of
verisimilitude. But the informativeness of a theory partially depends on its
verisimilitude, for how informative a theory is depends on how close to the
truth it is. A theory that is very far from the whole truth is not as
informative as a theory that is closer to the whole truth. For example,
Newtonian mechanics is not as informative as Einstein's theories of relativity
because the latter is closer to the whole truth. This is not to say that a
theory like Newtonian mechanics is not informative, for even a small measure of
informativeness is still more informative than no information at all. But it
does mean that our scientific values and cognitive questions are better
answered by a theory with a higher measure of verisimilitude. So the
informational content of a theory must be to some degree indeterminate, and
this is in agreement with our intuitions, which do point out theories closer to
the truth as more informative to us.
The measure of distance from the truth is
a measure of how close a theory is to being true, which means that the distance will vary
according to the different states (Maher, 237). Truth itself is an objective
notion, and all true theories will have a distance of zero. But a measure of
the distance from the truth must also take into account our interests in the
true and false consequences of a theory. The distance is measured by the
utility of accepting the theory when it is true minus the utility of accepting
it when it is false, divided by a scaling factor. Because utility is a measure
of one's preferences for the consequences, the resulting measure of distance
satisfies our need to include our interests in the true and false consequences
of the theory; thus, distance from truth is another subjective notion. (See
also Maher, 169-71).
Once we have a measure of informational
content and distance-our two aims for scientific theories, Le., informativeness
and truth-we must decide how much we are willing to risk for the information.
The distance is multiplied by a risk factor, 1/k, for some k that measures the relative weight we put
on the informational content (Maher, 144). Verisimilitude is the resulting
measure of the trade-off between informativeness and distance from truth, and
is thus measured by multiplying the distance by the risk factor and subtracting
from the informational content (Maher, 240). And this fulfills the initial
quoted definition of verisimilitude as "a measure of the cognitive utility
of accepting a hypothesis under different circumstances."
I find Maher's explication of
verisimilitude to be preferable to a contrasting explication such as Graham
Oddie's in his Likeness to the Truth (1986). Oddie claims that we have
intuitions about verisimilitude and we ought to trust those intuitions.
"An intuitive grasp of the concept comes before any theory. Not only will
intuitive examples be used in judging the adequacy of each theory, but the very
act of judging presupposes an acquaintance with the notion of a good 'fit' of
theory to the known facts" (Oddie, 8). In his explication of
verisimilitude he uses hypothetical examples of different theories about some
true state. At first glance we have clear intuitions about which of the
theories is closest to the true state. He defines what it means for a theory to
have the best fit to the true state, and shows, using the examples, how each
hypothetical theory is measured against the true state to find which one is the
best fit. (See Oddie, Ch. 4). I will not go into detail about his theory, for
it is not necessary.
While I find Oddie's theory to present a
very adequate method of measuring theories against the true state to find which
theory is most like the truth, i.e., the best fit, I find his theory less
preferable to Maher's. For Oddie, verisimilitude represents how close a theory actually is to truth. In each of his examples,
theories are measured against the true state: in order to measure the
truthlikeness, one needs to know the true state. It is unclear to me how this
could prove useful in understanding science. We do not know the true state of
the world to measure our theories against, and even if we did, measuring our
false theories against it would seem nothing more than an afterthought, to
perhaps see how close we were.
But science is about developing theories
that we believe are
closer to the truth than older theories. And it is clear to me that Maher's
theory does the job and best coheres with how scientists actually go about
their business. Nothing in Maher's theory prompts us to need to know anything
about the true state, other than the available observations and experiments[4], in order to determine the
verisimilitude of a theory. Again, an important part of Maher's project is that
it coincide with how scientists actually do make decisions about theories and
their acceptance of certain theories over others. It is a vital aspect of his
theory that scientists prefer true theories over false theories that are
empirically adequate, which is van Fraassen's view. This does make his theory
susceptible to confirmation or disconfirmation by empirical evidence, such as a
survey of scientists and their preferences. "I suspect that if such a
survey were conducted, we would find that scientists typically have a higher
cognitive utility for accepting a theory when it is true than when it is false
but empirically adequate" (Maher, 242). I believe Maher is right about
this: I have read the works of some scientists, and Maher has captured a true
representation of how typical scientists do their work.
A common objection to Maher's theory is
that it represents scientists as behaving too subjectively when making decisions
about acceptance of theories. This is similar to Thomas Kuhn's theory in The
Structure of Scientific Revolutions, and the theories of other
anthropologists, sociologists, and historians of science. However, conclusions
about the apparent subjectivity in the work of scientists appears to stem from
misunderstandings about why scientists make the decisions they do. Steven
Weinberg addresses this very issue in his book Dreams of a Final Theory
(1992), pp. 166-90. He affirms the claim that scientists do behave
subjectively, but that this subjectivity is absolutely necessary in order for
scientists to understand the observations and experiments that they make, as
well as necessary for science to make progress.
Weinberg cites J. J. Thomson's discovery
of the electron in his famous 1897 experiment with a cathode ray tube. At about
the same time Thomson performed his experiment, Walter Kaufmann in Berlin
performed the exact same experiment, and it was even better than Thomson's
(Weinberg, 178). However, Kaufmann did not report that he discovered a new
particle, while Thomson did. The difference is that Thomson had a subjective
belief about what he observed, while Kaufmann resisted any kind of subjective
conclusions-he only stuck to reporting the mere observations. The point is that
typically scientists do have subjective beliefs about their observations, and
without them, scientists could not make the discoveries they have made or
develop the theories they have. Thomson held a belief that he discovered a new
particle, but he did not know this from his experiment. It took several further
experiments to prove that he was right (Weinberg, 179). Thomson made a bet, a
risk, that he discovered a new particle.
He then cites the theory of quarks put
forth by Murray Gell-Mann and George Zweig in the early 1960s (Weinberg, 182).
At that time, particle physics was overloaded by a "zoo of particles"
that resulted in tremendous complexity in the theories governing particles.
Gell-Mann and Zweig, motivated by their own subjective views about the
structure of the world as composed of smaller and simpler parts, "proposed
that almost all of these particles are composed of a few simple (and even more
elementary) particles that Gell-Mann named quarks" (Weinberg, 182). But
several attempts by physicists during the 1960s and 1970s to discover these
quarks in experiments failed. It was not until the theory of quantum
chromodynamics, which explains why quarks cannot be freed from each other so as
to be observed in isolation, was shown to be correct in 1973 that the theory of
quarks was accepted (Weinberg, 182-3). And the point here is that Gell-Mann and
Zweig had a hunch based on their own subjective beliefs about the structure of
the world that led them to propose
a theory that could not at that time be empirically confirmed, but was shown
later to be a correct theory.
Lastly, Weinberg cites Andrew Pickering
from his book Constructing Quarks where he makes the claim "that
the content of the scientific theories that become accepted is what it is
because of the social and historical setting in which the theories are
negotiated" (Weinberg, 186). Weinberg recounts Pickering's description of
why a change of emphasis in high-energy experimental physics took place in the
late 1960s and early 1970s. The change of emphasis was from "concentrating
on the most conspicuous phenomena in collisions of high-energy particles (Le.,
the fragmentation of the particles into great numbers of other particles)"
to a focus on "rare events, such as those in which some high-energy
particle emerges from the collision at a large angle to the incoming beam
direction" (Weinberg, 187). But the change did not occur because of shifts
in the subjective negotiations between scientists at that time in history,
which sounds like something similar to changes in fashion. Weinberg states that
the change occurred because while "these may be the most conspicuous
collisions, they are too complicated to allow us to calculate w hat should
happen according to our current theory of quarks and gluons and so they are
useless for testing that theory" (Weinberg, 187). The rare events, on the
other hand, are not so complicated and are calculable by our current theories.
It appears, then, that Pickering misunderstood why the change in emphasis occurred,
despite the fact that, as Weinberg himself states, Pickering is quite
knowledgeable about the theoretical background surrounding the issue.
Thus, subjectivity in science as Weinberg
describes it agrees with Maher's theories of acceptance and verisimilitude as
representations of how scientists do make decisions about theory acceptance.
Consider this quote from Weinberg:
A party of mountain climbers may argue
over the best path to the peak...but in the end either they find a good path to
the peak or they do not, and when they get there they know it. (No one would
give a book about mountain climbing the title Constructing Everest.) I cannot prove that science is like
this, but everything in my experience as a scientist convinces me that it is.
The "negotiations" over changes in scientific theory go on and on,
with scientists changing their minds again and again in response to
calculations and experiments, until finally one view or another bears an unmistakable
mark of objective success.[5]
It certainly feels to me that we are discovering something real in physics,
something that is what it is without any regard to the social or historical
conditions that allowed us to discover it.
I find this passage to represent perfect
agreement with Maher's claim that scientists typically have a higher cognitive
utility for accepting true theories than false theories that are empirically
adequate. It is apparent that Maher's explication of verisimilitude coheres
perfectly with the way some scientists do make decisions about accepting
theories that they are willing to believe are closer to the truth than previous
theories. To contrast again with Oddie's theory, Maher's theory proves to be
more useful in our understanding of the process of accepting or rejecting
scientific theories. This gives Maher's theory a higher cognitive utility for
us, so that we ought, if we are to be consistent with rational and scientific
values, prefer and choose to accept Maher's theory over one such as Oddie's,
i.e., a theory that defines verisimilitude subjectively utilizing cognitive
utility, and may vary from person to person, as opposed to objectively as a
measure of the actual closeness of a theory to the truth that is the same
measure for everyone.
[1] Maher does include norms in his discussion of preferences: a person accepts certain norms that permit him to automatically prefer certain actions to others (pp. 17,25-8). However, in order for a person to have norms, he must accept them. But since acceptance is a cognitive act, then these norms must first run through the process of being accepted, which is precisely the process being outlined. I admit that persons do in fact have norms, and that they do playa role in preferences. But if those norms had to be accepted, then what was prior to those norms- what allowed those particular norms to be accepted? It would appear that only values could fm this prior position, so that certain norms are accepted because they were deemed valuable. This puts values in the most powerful position when it comes to preferences.
[2] Disposition to act is a behaviorist definition of preference. This definition is not advocated by Maher, for there are very clear counterexamples to it. Thus, disposition to act is not sufficient for defining one's preferences, but "it is strong prima facie evidence for preference" (pp. 15). Maher does give an explanation of how 10 analyze a conflict between one's preferences and one's actions (pp. 15-18). But for purposes of simplicity here, I will not recount this explanation, as it is not necessary in understanding verisimilitude.
[3] If your current probability function is p, and if q is the probability function you would have if you learned E and nothing else, then q() should be identical to p(| E).
[4] This would not be the same as knowing the true state, for in light of our observations and experiments, we can be, and have many times been, wrong about the truth regarding those observations. As Oddie points out in his discussion on intuitions, any intuitions about empirical matters can turn out 10 be wrong. The only intuitions that cannot be wrong are our intuitions about (low-level) conceptual matters. See pp. 9.
[5] Emphasis is mine.