Monday, March 31, 2008

Truth emerges from debating ideas in a free and open contest


Someday I want to track down the origin of this idea, and the best articulation of it.

The earliest I've found so far is in Milton, who wrote:

"And though all the winds of doctrine were let loose to play on the earth, so Truth be in the field, (when we censor)... we misdoubt her strength. Let her and Falsehood grapple; who ever knew Truth put to the worse in a free and open encounter?"
(Aereopagitica, 1644)

Anyhow, I've been busy with Fitna lately, and it reminded me of John Stuart Mill's essay "On Liberty," published in 1869, which we all had in school, right? It contains quite a vigorous defense of freedom of speech.

"The peculiar evil of silencing the expression of an opinion is, that it is robbing the human race; posterity as well as the existing generation; those who dissent from the opinion, still more than those who hold it. If the opinion is right, they are deprived of the opportunity of exchanging error for truth: if wrong, they lose, what is almost as great a benefit, the clearer perception and livelier impression of truth, produced by its collision with error."

What I found was that the final paragraphs of the essay are stunningly apt for the current debate over the use and possible abuse of freedom of speech by Geert Wilders.

"Before quitting the subject of freedom of opinion, it is fit to take some notice of those who say, that the free expression of all opinions should be permitted, on condition that the manner be temperate, and do not pass the bounds of fair discussion."

That's the complaint leveled against Wilders, all right: that he's passing the bounds of fair discussion.

"Much might be said on the impossibility of fixing where these supposed bounds are to be placed; for if the test be offence to those whose opinion is attacked, I think experience testifies that this offence is given whenever the attack is telling and powerful, and that every opponent who pushes them hard, and whom they find it difficult to answer, appears to them, if he shows any strong feeling on the subject, an intemperate opponent."

In other words, to people who hold a viewpoint, any strong argument or disagreement against it seems rude.
This at first would appear to apply to Wilders' criticism of Islam. Except that I think most Muslims don't think it's difficult at all to answer his arguments; but he has refused to debate with them!

"But this, though an important consideration in a practical point of view, merges in a more fundamental objection. Undoubtedly the manner of asserting an opinion, even though it be a true one, may be very objectionable, and may justly incur severe censure. But the principal offences of the kind are such as it is mostly impossible, unless by accidental self-betrayal, to bring home to conviction. The gravest of them is, to argue sophistically, to suppress facts or arguments, to misstate the elements of the case, or misrepresent the opposite opinion."

Wilders, appears to be guilty of this: by selectively quoting the Quran to his purpose; or by focusing only on Muslims who have carried out attacks in the name of Islam, rather than the 99.999999% who live peacefully in the Netherlands.
But Mill doubts _ as I do _ that you can "prove" Wilders is being sophistic.

"But all this, even to the most aggravated degree, is so continually done in perfect good faith, by persons who are not considered, and in many other respects may not deserve to be considered, ignorant or incompetent, that it is rarely possible on adequate grounds conscientiously to stamp the misrepresentation as morally culpable; and still less could law presume to interfere with this kind of controversial misconduct."

If no one else will say it I will: Wilders is smart, and it's not going to be easily possible to show he's arguing in bad faith.
Time has passed Mill by and we now think Law *should* presume to interfere with such misconduct: via hate speech laws. Mill would have opposed them, despite being an early anti-racist.

"With regard to what is commonly meant by intemperate discussion, namely invective, sarcasm, personality, and the like ... it is only desired to restrain the employment of them against the prevailing opinion: against the unprevailing they may not only be used without general disapproval, but will be likely to obtain for him who uses them the praise of honest zeal and righteous indignation."

To me, this cuts both ways. In circles that agree with Wilders, his commentary gets 'praise of honest zeal and righteous indignation.' _ I've seen it on some sites out there.
On the other hand, it's true that the prevailing opinion around the world _ against Wilders _ would like very much to prevent him from "interperate discussion."

"Yet whatever mischief arises from their (unfair arguments) use, is greatest when they are employed against the comparatively defenceless; and whatever unfair advantage can be derived by any opinion from this mode of asserting it, accrues almost exclusively to received opinions."

Again, one could see either Wilders or Dutch Muslims as "comparatively defenseless" (but I see neither as such). But which is the received wisdom, that Islam is dangerous or that Islam is harmless?

"The worst offence of this kind which can be committed by a polemic, is to stigmatize those who hold the contrary opinion as bad and immoral men..."

Of course, one side calls Wilders a bigot; and Wilders calls Dutch who don't subscribe to his view 'dhimmi' _ by which he means, cowards willing to capitulate in the face of Islamic aggression. This is rather different from the actual meaning of dhimmi, but people use words the way they want...

"In general, opinions contrary to those commonly received can only obtain a hearing by studied moderation of language, and the most cautious avoidance of unnecessary offence."

And this sways me to the viewpoint: Wilders really is the one who is challenging the established wisdom, which is that Islam is not a threat. Unfortunately for Wilders, he didn't moderate his language, or avoid unnecessary offense _ and as Mill predicted, he therefore won't really get a hearing of his view.

"Opinion ought, in every instance, to determine its verdict by the circumstances of the individual case; condemning every one, on whichever side of the argument he places himself, in whose mode of advocacy either want of candour, or malignity, bigotry or intolerance of feeling manifest themselves;"

This would tend to condemn Wilders. Check, check, check, check.

"But not inferring these vices from the side which a person takes, though it be the contrary side of the question to our own: and giving merited honour to every one, whatever opinion he may hold, who has calmness to see and honesty to state what his opponents and their opinions really are"

This would tend to help Wilders. Assuming he really thinks what he says he thinks. I feel we have to take him at face value, even though there's justifiable suspicion he's just trying to win votes by bashing Muslims _ like Slobodan Milosevic or any number of European populists.

"...exaggerating nothing to their discredit, keeping nothing back which tells, or can be supposed to tell, in their favour."

This very much tends to work against Wilders _ he keeps back all kinds of things which would tell in Islam's favor.


"This is the real morality of public discussion: and if often violated, I am happy to think that there are many controversialists who to a great extent observe it, and a still greater number who conscientiously strive towards it."

Mill was something of an optimist, I think we can say.


Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Everything gets published on the Internets _ but how?


The Oracle of Amsterdam predicts Geert Wilders' anti-Quran film "Fitna" is coming in the next two days. Absolutely no insider information here, just common sense: he's promised to get it out this month, and why would he wait for the court case Friday that might end up banning him from releasing it at all?

Leaving aside questions of good/bad right/wrong, I just want to think out loud about: the freedom of speech does not mean the freedom to broadcast.

How is he technically going to publish it? No TV stations will broadcast it, no press screening is possible, and his hosting provider, Network Solutions, has pulled the plug on him.

Why? No reason to scream 'censorship' or 'U.S. government involvement.' This is a corporation we're talking about, and they a) hate negative publicity and b) can be held liable if the film contains something illegal (for instance, an incitement to violence). I personally doubt it will contain anything illegal, but you can understand why a big company is shy about the risk, and Wilders' refusal to show it to them in advance gives them an easy reason to refuse to host it.

Even GeenStijl ("No Style"), the Dutch blog, said it couldn't put up the video without seeing it first, for similar reasons.

Wilders could upload it to YouTube, but chances are they're also ready to yank it down immediately. So, how?

We can all (probably) agree that once the film leaks out, it will go everywhere via file sharing etc., but in the meanwhile, he's got a minor logistical problem on his hands.

I'll give my theory after the "More," but I'm open to and curious about other suggestions.

My opinion is, he will mostly likely be handing out old-fashioned DVDs to the press, because otherwise it may be difficult to authenticate which movie is his. There are already a lot of fakes on YouTube.

However, the press won't republish it in its entirety, so he will still need a way for "the public" to be able to access it. So I think he will likely find an alternate hosting company that is willing to offer bandwidth without reviewing the film first. It's risky, but it might be good publicity for some smaller hosting companies.

Could be in Holland (XS4ALL?), could be abroad, on Vanatu or in Scandinavia or something.

I don't think he'll put it up on either the or domains because it's not easy to get Network Solutions or Verio to transfer the domain names quickly.

So I think it's more likely he would buy an as-yet unknown domain name, post the movie, and then announce where it is via a press release.

In that scenario it may well be hard to see the film at the beginning because the site crashes due to traffic or a denial of service attack.

Secondarily, he may have multiple people ready to upload it to YouTube, Revver and the like in a short period of time, and seed a few Bittorrents for good measure, just to get things going.

Time will tell.


Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Another side of wedding photos

(stacey kaine)

Just for the fun of it...


Saturday, March 22, 2008

Protest against Geert Wilders and Racism on the Dam

(her sign reads: "I'm afraid of the future, but I'm too big to scream.")

Today, around 2,000 people showed up on the Dam square to protest Geert Wilders and his anti-Quran film.

(a view of the crowd)

Well, in point of fact it was an anti-Racism demonstration, and since Wilders says he's not racist, maybe he shouldn't even be part of the discussion here.

However, he was certainly topic number one, and the main reason people turned out for the demo, as far as I could see.

("not wanted")

(sign: "Stop the Witch-hunt against Muslims. No room for Racism!)

Remembering the "Stop the Islamization of Europe" demo last month, I reckon this one was a little less than 100 times bigger (20 protesters versus 2,000, 30 press versus 100 press? just guessing).

Anyhow, here are some pictures and film clips.
The overview:
(in the scrum)

More pics and clips after the 'more'

Signs! (something in Frisian I can't read!) "Racism is not an opinion, but a crime" / "PVV + Wilders = Fascism"

("standing together against the right wing populist witch-hunt."


This is kind of a funny project _ people from "mediamatic" doing an art project where they try to flood YouTube with fake videos / apologies for Geert Wilders.

That's also freedom of speech, no?

I had a little trouble getting these guys to talk...nice people though.

Friday, March 21, 2008


my little sister is quite the humorist MORE

Thursday, March 20, 2008

TNT Post Customer Service


I needed to mail a document quickly to a friend of mine in the U.S., and I went down to the post office yesterday to get it done. Dutch mail has been privatized, and the former monopolist is now a corporation called "TNT Post."

Leaving aside the somewhat odd name (why not "Anthrax Mail," one wonders), the company has a pretty good reputation.

Here was the conversation (abridged) I had with the guy behind the counter, which was good-humored throughout. I felt like I was in a Monty Python skit:

TS: I'd like to mail this with your fastest service.

TNT: I'm sorry meneer (=sir), our express service is closed for the day.

TS: Oh. Well, let's just get it ready so you can post it first thing

TNT: I'm sorry meneer, we can't do that.

TS: You can't just put it in your pouch for tomorrow's mail?

TNT: No.

TS: Oh. Well what are my other options?

TNT: Where are you sending it?

TS: The United States

TNT: I'm sorry, we don't have anything but regular mail service to the
United States.

TS: Priority mail? Can it be sent registered mail?

TNT: Yes.

TS: Okay, let's do that.

TNT: How do you want to send it?

TS: (pause) I was thinking _ in an envelope.

TNT: Okay. (Very long pause).

TS: Can I buy an envelope?

TNT: I'm sorry, we don't sell envelopes.

TS: (Looks around shop, notices all manner of bric a brac, but no envelopes. Laughs).

TNT: Yeah, we find it funny too, meneer. We get a lot of complaints
about that.

TS: How much for a box?

TNT: It depends on what size.

TS: Smallest size.

TNT: I don't know, it's written on the display.

TS: (retrieves small box for EUR1.70). Okay, let's send this.

TNT: Can you take it over there to fill out the address information?
Then I can help other customers.

TS: (returns after waiting in line again). Okay. Here it is.

TNT: (takes box). The United States...that'll be 11 euros.

TS: So it will be there in what, 3-5 days?

TNT: (Laughs). That's optimistic.

TS: So what's pessimistic?

TNT: Where's it going?

TS: The. United. States.

TNT: It will arrive within 5 days, but it may take longer than that to be delivered.

TS: Come again?

TNT: Everything has to be sniffed nowadays, meneer.

TS: What's the worst case scenario?

TNT: (Shrugs).


According to TNT's web site, it should take 5-7 business days to arrive. We shall see...

(geoff coupe)


Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Dutch Weather Forecast

This one is a bit of a classic:

"Alternating sun and some showers with (a) chance (of) hail and wet snow, possibly also stormy. Tomorrow little change.


With a high of 7 centigrade and a low of 1.

Sunday, March 16, 2008

Lego Robots in Amsterdam

If you don't like robots, don't read this post.

It's quite amazing what somebody can make with EUR200 worth of Legos these days _ and a bunch of robotics grad students are just the people to prove it.

Here's a couple of clips from the winning presentation of a robot called "Phobot"

After the "More": geekier and geekier

Back to "Ice Planet Hoth."


The basic concept of the Segway: always return the angle to 90 degrees.



(?David Leal-Martinez?)

(Henriette Cramer)

(Marek Michalowski)

Sorry for the overload on multimedia _ I love my new camera.

Interestingly, it takes acres more time to load via Blogger than YouTube.

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

In My Inbox

This was much more interesting than most press releases I get. Unfortunately I couldn't make a story of it because _ no Dutch angle.

I edited out some parts that went on a little too long with "..."

From: [] On Behalf Of Press Office
Sent: Tuesday, March 11, 2008 2:06 AM
To: Press Office List- Activists; Press Office List- Media
Subject: [animallibmedia] Ask the Duck!

Received Anonymously:


As the Frente de Liberacion Animal Mexico (FLAM) we feel that if to save animals from being mistreated, tortured, persecuted, hunted, imprisoned and murdered is to be a terrorist, then that is what we are and we love it!


The sun has already been hidden a thousand times, said the duck, while he watched the cars pass. He watched the people stop and with feelings of pity say: What a pretty imprisoned duck; the sad duck sleeps with no one for company, without knowing what it is to be truly free, waking every morning and looking at the sky, admiring his bird brothers and sisters flying from one side to the other. They stop in the trees and look for food; he listens to them singing happy songs; he dreams that some day freedom will arrive and pining to go from the cage where he is shut away, the body will mend itself from this monotony.

On the night of March 2, while he was sleeping, he heard noises. Some humans dressed in black, with ski masks covering their faces approached. They jumped a gate; the duck quacked saying Free me immediately I don't want to be here! The humans wrapped him with a blanket, put him in a box and they carried him away.

The duck, watching through the holes in the box, did not know what was passing before his eyes, but surely it was something good, so he wasn't nervous. Soon the cage was opened and he saw the great sun which he always watched, looking at the rest of his brothers and sisters flying, feeding himself on what they had around them.

He saw water in a much greater quantity than the little that he saw before in his dirty plate of food. The environment had a distinct aroma, the air moved his feathers, his legs touched the moist earth and at last he felt free. He fluttered his wings with great force, vigor and happiness and now this duck, hoping to be rescued and released, that had been disappointed by the cowardice of those who shout 'Animal Liberation' and do nothing for them, is free at last. Is direct action useless? Ask the duck.


(end of press release)

"There are more things in heaven and earth ... than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

(there is no more so don't click 'more')

I like ducks.


Can't Get Away From The War

(Teun de Groot, holding his father's passport case. The bullet hole that killed his father is still visible.)

World War II still casts such a long shadow that I feel we'll never escape it.

One of the more interesting stories I've worked on recently (as contributor, not author) was the tale of Teun de Groot, whose father was killed by the Nazis.

Here's the AP story.

What I wanted to add was one shocking detail of the Nazi behavior toward the occupied Dutch.

The Nazis were pissed off that Dutch resistance were assassinating their guys (and collaborators), so they made a rule: for every one of ours that the Dutch resistance kills, we will kill three innocent civilians. Not completely at random, but people who are prominent members of their community known to resent the occupation.

They had SS in plainclothes carry these killings out.

The idea was not just payback and intimidation, but also to sow dissent and mistrust among the resistance and local population about who was who.

So someone killed a local collaborator called Johan Bouw in the town of Voorschoten, and that proved fatal for Teun de Groot's father _ he was one of two killed in revenge (the third was shot but survived).

De Groot told me that local resistance guys told him after the war that they really didn't know who was behind the killing of Bouw _ a poignant detail. It appears to have been an 'ordinary' murder.

(De Groot family. It disintegrated after the death of the father.)

One thing that didn't come out in the story: although Teun is still hoping his father's killer is brought to justice, he is personally a very charming man, not at all consumed by hate, but full of life and good humor.

That story is to be continued, I believe.

Another story I worked on (almost a month ago now): Johan Heesters, a 104-year-old Caberet star who drew a protest when he performed in Amersfoort last month: people here never forgave him for continuing to work in Germany throughout the war. He says he was just an artist, above politics.

He outlived the people who resented him the most, and so finally he was able to have his 'homecoming' performance. I never heard whether it was as sweet as he imagined it would be.

The story would, of course, have been newsworthy if it were just that a 102 year old guy was still performing.

What I wondered is, if your entire career has been made in Germany, why do you want to return to the Netherlands for a concert when you don't really have a fan base here and in fact a lot of people hate you?

There's a whiff of profiteering on the part of the theater owner, no?

(a letter from Queen Wilhelmina to De Groot's widow).

Of course there was the story of Anne Frank's First Love, which AP didn't make a big deal about _ but Reuters sure did.

The "support Anne Frank's Tree" project is going to get going in April.

I'm bombarded by story proposals about WWII looted art (google: Malevich vs. City of Amsterdam or "Goudstikker").

Bombs and land mines are still being recovered on an almost daily basis, and a couple of allied planes are salvaged every year.

I could name several more legitimate story ideas we've passed on, just because of lack of space.

May 5 is my wedding anniversary...liberation day to some, incarceration day to others...

And I've been contributing to another WWII project in the works, but I'm not at liberty to discuss that...

Wednesday, March 5, 2008



Geert Wilders' film is made, and now it's the calm before the storm.

I once took a class on American philosophy. All you Europe-centrists can laugh, like "the reading list must have been short."

As it turns out the class was kind of a flop, but I took a few good things away from it, among them Charles Pierce, William James and Richard Rorty.

I sometimes think that if some of the people around today who are so sure their view of the world is right would just read some James (or make the Socratic admission that they don't know anything) they might relax a little.

Who do I mean by unreasonable? Oh, pick any atheist who demands that others follow suit (Richard Dawkins); or any Christian fundamentalist who wants creationism taught in science classes (Johnathan Wells), or any Islamic fundamentalist (Osama bin Laden) who wants the rest of the world to live by a set of rules laid down in the 7th century. Or Geert Wilders.

Wilders lives in a world where his right to freedom of speech is absolute and infinite; where media not interested in acting as his mouthpiece are censoring him, and where the consequences of his actions are everybody else's problem but his _ even when others are obviously going to be affected by what he says and does.

I would argue the right to freedom of speech includes a duty to use it responsibly. He would respond that he's a reincarnation of Churchill and his political opponents are Chamberlains, so it's his duty to speak out. Analogies to other political figures of the era are also possible.

Yet on the face of it, trashing something (the Quran) that's a sacred source of wisdom to more than a billion people seems like something you'd want to be pretty sure about before "going for it," as they say. I recall some pretty weird passages in Deuteronomy...

William James, the father of pragmatism, was a Christian and a gentle defender of his ideas, holding on to as much of his tradition as he could and abandoning _ for instance _ literal interpretations of the Bible when they conflicted with his scientific beliefs.

He chose, as I do, to believe in Free Will.

He said (paraphrased) 'I know there are some logical flaws with the idea, whether or not one believes in god. But I need to believe in free will in order to make my life work, and unless somebody can show me convincing evidence there is no such thing, I'm just going to assume it'.

Today, I wanted to draw your attention to this gem from Rorty, who is in some way James' intellectual descendant. So very appropriate for the Internet age:

"We should think of human progress as making it possible for human beings to do more interesting things and be more interesting people, not as heading towards a place which has somehow been prepared for humanity in advance. Our self-image would employ images of making rather than finding."

As I look out through the mass of blogs and everything else on the Internet, I am stunned again and again by the amount of people out there who are doing interesting things and being interesting people, more than ever before.

I love it when people comment here, and then I go look at their websites, and think, *man* they're in a different world.


Take this for instance, the site of someone who apparently just stumbled across my site, left a comment and then went on his? her? way:

Great stuff.

Anyhow, philosophically speaking, I am a pragmatist, and I just wanted to say that publicly. I wish I had a badge or something I could wear when I run into people who want me to commit to their world-view or try to get me to "show colors."

(eshan khakbaz)

When I met my wife, I was quite impressed she knew who Richard Rorty was. I shouldn't have been SO impressed because it turns out my wife was a philosophy major. On the other hand, she introduced me to John Rawls, who I had never heard of (so much for my class). On the continent, at least, Rawls and his Theory of Justice were considered the most important things to come out of U.S. philosophy in the last 25 years of the 20th century.

Say what you will about Rawls (I'm not such a fan) but his theory is more coherent than that of any of your through-a-glass-darkly French deconstructionists.


(mr. lynch)

Really interested in philosophy and got some time on your hands? Check out Charles Pierce's essay on the Fixation of Belief, which I have published below in its entirety.

Because I can.

ps it really picks up speed toward the end.

Few persons care to study logic, because everybody conceives himself to be proficient enough in the art of reasoning already. But I observe that this satisfaction is limited to one’s own ratiocination, and does not extend to that of other men.

We come to the full possession of our power of drawing inferences the last of all our faculties, for it is not so much a natural gift as a long and difficult art. The history of its practice would make a grand subject for a book. The medieval schoolmen, following the Romans, made logic the earliest of a boy’s studies after grammar, as being very easy. So it was, as they understood it. Its fundamental principle, according to them, was, that all knowledge rests on either authority or reason; but that whatever is deduced by reason depends ultimately on a premise derived from authority. Accordingly, as soon as a boy was perfect in the syllogistic procedure, his intellectual kit of tools was held to be complete.

To Roger Bacon, that remarkable mind who in the middle of the thirteenth century was almost a scientific man, the schoolmen’s conception of reasoning appeared only an obstacle to truth. He saw that experience alone teaches anything — a proposition which to us seems easy to understand, because a distinct conception of experience has been handed down to us from former generations; which to him also seemed perfectly clear, because its difficulties had not yet unfolded themselves. Of all kinds of experience, the best, he thought, was interior illumination, which teaches many things about Nature which the external senses could never discover, such as the transubstantiation of bread.

Four centuries later, the more celebrated Bacon, in the first book of his Novum Organum, gave his clear account of experience as something which must be open to verification and re-examination. But, superior as Lord Bacon’s conception is to earlier notions, a modern reader who is not in awe of his grandiloquence is chiefly struck by the inadequacy of his view of scientific procedure. That we have only to make some crude experiments, to draw up briefs of the results in certain blank forms, to go through these by rule, checking off everything disproved and setting down the alternatives, and that thus in a few years physical science would be finished up — what an idea “He wrote on science like a Lord Chancellor,” indeed.

The early scientists, Copernicus, Tycho Brahe, Kepler, Galileo, and Gilbert, had methods more like those of their modern brethren. Kepler undertook to draw a curve through the places of Mars; and his greatest service to science was in impressing on men’s minds that this was the thing to be done if they wished to improve astronomy; that they were not to content themselves with inquiring whether one system of epicycles was better than another, but that they were to sit down to the figures and find out what the curve, in truth, was. He accomplished this by his incomparable energy and courage, blundering along in the most inconceivable way (to us), from one irrational hypothesis to another, until, after trying twenty-two of these, he fell, by the mere exhaustion of his invention, upon the orbit which a mind well furnished with the weapons of modern logic would have tried almost at the outset.

In the same way, every work of science great enough to be well remembered for a few generations affords some exemplification of the defective state of the art of reasoning of the time when it was written; and each chief step in science has been a lesson in logic. It was so when Lavoisier and his contemporaries took up the study of chemistry. The old chemist’s maxim had been, “Lege, lege, lege, labora, ora, et relege.” Lavoisier’s method was not to read and pray, but to dream that some long and complicated chemical process would have a certain effect, to put it into practice with dull patience, after its inevitable failure, to dream that with some modification it would have another result, and to end by publishing the last dream as a fact: his way was to carry his mind into his laboratory, and to make of his alembics and cucurbits instruments of thought, giving a new conception of reasoning as something which was to be done with one’s eyes open, by manipulating real things instead of words and fancies.

The Darwinian controversy is, in large part, a question of logic. Mr. Darwin proposed to apply the statistical method to biology. The same thing had been done in a widely different branch of science, the theory of gases. Though unable to say what the movements of any particular molecule of gas would be on a certain hypothesis regarding the constitution of this class of bodies, Clausius and Maxwell were yet able, by the application of the doctrine of probabilities, to predict that in the long run such and such a proportion of the molecules would, under given circumstances, acquire such and such velocities; that there would take place, every second, such and such a number of collisions, etc.; and from these propositions were able to deduce certain properties of gases, especially in regard to their heat-relations. In like manner, Darwin, while unable to say what the operation of variation and natural selection in any individual case will be, demonstrates that in the long run they will adapt animals to their circumstances. Whether or not existing animal forms are due to such action, or what position the theory ought to take, forms the subject of a discussion in which questions of fact and questions of logic are curiously interlaced.


The object of reasoning is to find out, from the consideration of what we already know, something else which we do not know. Consequently, reasoning is good if it be such as to give a true conclusion from true premises, and not otherwise.

Thus, the question of its validity is purely one of fact and not of thinking. A being the premises and B the conclusion, the question is, whether these facts are really so related that if A is B is. If so, the inference is valid; if not, not.

It is not in the least the question whether, when the premises are accepted by the mind, we feel an impulse to accept the conclusion also. It is true that we do generally reason correctly by nature. But that is an accident; the true conclusion would remain true if we had no impulse to accept it; and the false one would remain false, though we could not resist the tendency to believe in it.

We are, doubtless, in the main logical animals, but we are not perfectly so. Most of us, for example, are naturally more sanguine and hopeful than logic would justify. We seem to be so constituted that in the absence of any facts to go upon we are happy and self-satisfied; so that the effect of experience is continually to contract our hopes and aspirations. Yet a lifetime of the application of this corrective does not usually eradicate our sanguine disposition. Where hope is unchecked by any experience, it is likely that our optimism is extravagant. Logicality in regard to practical matters is the most useful quality an animal can possess, and might, therefore, result from the action of natural selection; but outside of these it is probably of more advantage to the animal to have his mind filled with pleasing and encouraging visions, independently of their truth; and thus, upon unpractical subjects, natural selection might occasion a fallacious tendency of thought.

That which determines us, from given premises, to draw one inference rather than another, is some habit of mind, whether it be constitutional or acquired. The habit is good or otherwise, according as it produces true conclusions from true premises or not; and an inference is regarded as valid or not, without reference to the truth or falsity of its conclusion specially, but according as the habit which determines it is such as to produce true conclusions in general or not. The particular habit of mind which governs this or that inference may be formulated in a proposition whose truth depends on the validity of the inferences which the habit determines; and such a formula is called a guiding principle of inference. Suppose, for example, that we observe that a rotating disk of copper quickly comes to rest when placed between the poles of a magnet, and we infer that this will happen with every disk of copper. The guiding principle is, that what is true of one piece of copper is true of another. Such a guiding principle with regard to copper would be much safer than with regard to many other substances — brass, for example.

A book might be written to signalize all the most important of these guiding principles of reasoning. It would probably be, we must confess, of no service to a person whose thought is directed wholly to practical subjects, and whose activity moves along thoroughly-beaten paths. The problems which present themselves to such a mind are matters of routine which he has learned once for all to handle in learning his business. But let a man venture into an unfamiliar field, or where his results are not continually checked by experience, and all history shows that the most masculine intellect will ofttimes lose his orientation and waste his efforts in directions which bring him no nearer to his goal, or even carry him entirely astray. He is like a ship in the open sea, with no one on board who understands the rules of navigation. And in such a case some general study of the guiding principles of reasoning would be sure to be found useful.

The subject could hardly be treated, however, without being first limited; since almost any fact may serve as a guiding principle. But it so happens that there exists a division among facts, such that in one class are all those which are absolutely essential as guiding principles, while in the others are all which have any other interest as objects of research. This division is between those which are necessarily taken for granted in asking whether a certain conclusion follows from certain premises, and those which are not implied in that question. A moment’s thought will show that a variety of facts are already assumed when the logical question is first asked. It is implied, for instance, that there are such states of mind as doubt and belief — that a passage from one to the other is possible, the object of thought remaining the same, and that this transition is subject to some rules which all minds are alike bound by. As these are facts which we must already know before we can have any clear conception of reasoning at all, it cannot be supposed to be any longer of much interest to inquire into their truth or falsity. On the other hand, it is easy to believe that those rules of reasoning which are deduced from the very idea of the process are the ones which are the most essential; and, indeed, that so long as it conforms to these it will, at least, not lead to false conclusions from true premises. In point of fact, the importance of what may be deduced from the assumptions involved in the logical question turns out to be greater than might be supposed, and this for reasons which it is difficult to exhibit at the outset. The only one which I shall here mention is, that conceptions which are really products of logical reflection, without being readily seen to be so, mingle with our ordinary thoughts, and are frequently the causes of great confusion. This is the case, for example, with the conception of quality. A quality, as such, is never an object of observation. We can see that a thing is blue or green, but the quality of being blue and the quality of being green are not things which we see; they are products of logical reflections. The truth is, that common-sense, or thought as it first emerges above the level of the narrowly practical, is deeply imbued with that bad logical quality to which the epithet metaphysical is commonly applied; and nothing can clear it up but a severe course of logic.


We generally know when we wish to ask a question and when we wish to pronounce a judgment, for there is a dissimilarity between the sensation of doubting and that of believing.

But this is not all which distinguishes doubt from belief. There is a practical difference. Our beliefs guide our desires and shape our actions. The Assassins, or followers of the Old Man of the Mountain, used to rush into death at his least command, because they believed that obedience to him would insure everlasting felicity. Had they doubted this, they would not have acted as they did. So it is with every belief, according to its degree. The feeling of believing is a more or less sure indication of there being established in our nature some habit which will determine our actions. Doubt never has such an effect.

Nor must we overlook a third point of difference. Doubt is an uneasy and dissatisfied state from which we struggle to free ourselves and pass into the state of belief; while the latter is a calm and satisfactory state which we do not wish to avoid, or to change to a belief in anything else. On the contrary, we cling tenaciously, not merely to believing, but to believing just what we do believe.

Thus, both doubt and belief have positive effects upon us, though very different ones. Belief does not make us act at once, but puts us into such a condition that we shall behave in some certain way, when the occasion arises. Doubt has not the least effect of this sort, but stimulates us to action until it is destroyed. This reminds us of the irritation of a nerve and the reflex action produced thereby; while for the analogue of belief, in the nervous system, we must look to what are called nervous associations — for example, to that habit of the nerves in consequence of which the smell of a peach will make the mouth water.


The irritation of doubt causes a struggle to attain a state of belief. I shall term this struggle inquiry, though it must be admitted that this is sometimes not a very apt designation.

The irritation of doubt is the only immediate motive for the struggle to attain belief. It is certainly best for us that our beliefs should be such as may truly guide our actions so as to satisfy our desires; and this reflection will make us reject any belief which does not seem to have been so formed as to insure this result. But it will only do so by creating a doubt in the place of that belief. With the doubt, therefore, the struggle begins, and with the cessation of doubt it ends. Hence, the sole object of inquiry is the settlement of opinion. We may fancy that this is not enough for us, and that we seek, not merely an opinion, but a true opinion. But put this fancy to the test, and it proves groundless; for as soon as a firm belief is reached we are entirely satisfied, whether the belief be true or false. And it is clear that nothing out of the sphere of our knowledge can be our object, for nothing which does not affect the mind can be the motive for mental effort. The most that can be maintained is, that we seek for a belief that we shall think to be true. But we think each one of our beliefs to be true, and, indeed, it is mere tautology to say so.

That the settlement of opinion is the sole end of inquiry is a very important proposition. It sweeps away, at once, various vague and erroneous conceptions of proof. A few of these may be noticed here.

1. Some philosophers have imagined that to start an inquiry it was only necessary to utter a question or set in down upon paper, and have even recommended us to begin our studies with questioning everything. But the mere putting of a proposition into the interrogative form does not stimulate the mind to any struggle after belief. There must be a real and living doubt, and without this all discussion is idle.

2. It is a very common idea that a demonstration must rest on some ultimate and absolutely indubitable propositions. These, according to one school, are first principles of a general nature; according to another, are first sensations. But, in point of fact, an inquiry, to have that completely satisfactory result called demonstration, has only to start with propositions perfectly free from all actual doubt. If the premisses are not in fact doubted at all, they cannot be more satisfactory than they are.

3. Some people seem to love to argue a point after all the world is fully convinced of it. But no further advance can be made. When doubt ceases, mental action on the subject comes to an end; and, if it did go on, it would be without a purpose.


If the settlement of opinion is the sole object of inquiry, and if belief is of the nature of a habit, why should we not attain the desired end, by taking any answer to a question which we may fancy, and constantly reiterating it to ourselves, dwelling on all which may conduce to that belief, and learning to turn with contempt and hatred from anything that might disturb it? This simple and direct method is really pursued by many men. I remember once being entreated not to read a certain newspaper lest it might change my opinion upon free-trade. “Lest I might be entrapped by its fallacies and misstatements,” was the form of expression. “You are not,” my friend said, “a special student of political economy. You might, therefore, easily be deceived by fallacious arguments upon the subject. You might, then, if you read this paper, be led to believe in protection. But you admit that free-trade is the true doctrine; and you do not wish to believe what is not true.” I have often known this system to be deliberately adopted. Still oftener, the instinctive dislike of an undecided state of mind, exaggerated into a vague dread of doubt, makes men cling spasmodically to the views they already take. The man feels that, if he only holds to his belief without wavering, it will be entirely satisfactory. Nor can it be denied that a steady and immovable faith yields great peace of mind. It may, indeed, give rise to inconveniences, as if a man should resolutely continue to believe that fire would not burn him, or that he would be eternally damned if he received his ingesta otherwise than through a stomach-pump. But then the man who adopts this method will not allow that its inconveniences are greater than its advantages. He will say, “I hold steadfastly to the truth, and the truth is always wholesome.” And in many cases it may very well be that the pleasure he derives from his calm faith overbalances any inconveniences resulting from its deceptive character. Thus, if it be true that death is annihilation, then the man who believes that he will certainly go straight to heaven when he dies, provided he have fulfilled certain simple observances in this life, has a cheap pleasure which will not be followed by the least disappointment. A similar consideration seems to have weight with many persons in religious topics, for we frequently hear it said, “Oh, I could not believe so-and-so, because I should be wretched if I did.” When an ostrich buries its head in the sand as danger approaches, it very likely takes the happiest course. It hides the danger, and then calmly says there is no danger; and, if it feels perfectly sure there is none, why should it raise its head to see? A man may go through life, systematically keeping out of view all that might cause a change in his opinions, and if he only succeeds — basing his method, as he does, on two fundamental psychological laws — I do not see what can be said against his doing so. It would be an egotistical impertinence to object that his procedure is irrational, for that only amounts to saying that his method of settling belief is not ours. He does not propose to himself to be rational, and, indeed, will often talk with scorn of man’s weak and illusive reason. So let him think as he pleases.

But this method of fixing belief, which may be called the method of tenacity, will be unable to hold its ground in practice. The social impulse is against it. The man who adopts it will find that other men think differently from him, and it will be apt to occur to him, in some saner moment, that their opinions are quite as good as his own, and this will shake his confidence in his belief. This conception, that another man’s thought or sentiment may be equivalent to one’s own, is a distinctly new step, and a highly important one. It arises from an impulse too strong in man to be suppressed, without danger of destroying the human species. Unless we make ourselves hermits, we shall necessarily influence each other’s opinions; so that the problem becomes how to fix belief, not in the individual merely, but in the community.

Let the will of the state act, then, instead of that of the individual. Let an institution be created which shall have for its object to keep correct doctrines before the attention of the people, to reiterate them perpetually, and to teach them to the young; having at the same time power to prevent contrary doctrines from being taught, advocated, or expressed. Let all possible causes of a change of mind be removed from men’s apprehensions. Let them be kept ignorant, lest they should learn of some reason to think otherwise than they do. Let their passions be enlisted, so that they may regard private and unusual opinions with hatred and horror. Then, let all men who reject the established belief be terrified into silence. Let the people turn out and tar-and-feather such men, or let inquisitions be made into the manner of thinking of suspected persons, and when they are found guilty of forbidden beliefs, let them be subjected to some signal punishment. When complete agreement could not otherwise be reached, a general massacre of all who have not thought in a certain way has proved a very effective means of settling opinion in a country. If the power to do this be wanting, let a list of opinions be drawn up, to which no man of the least independence of thought can assent, and let the faithful be required to accept all these propositions, in order to segregate them as radically as possible from the influence of the rest of the world.

This method has, from the earliest times, been one of the chief means of upholding correct theological and political doctrines, and of preserving their universal or catholic character. In Rome, especially, it has been practised from the days of Numa Pompilius to those of Pius Nonus. This is the most perfect example in history; but wherever there is a priesthood — and no religion has been without one — this method has been more or less made use of. Wherever there is an aristocracy, or a guild, or any association of a class of men whose interests depend, or are supposed to depend, on certain propositions, there will be inevitably found some traces of this natural product of social feeling. Cruelties always accompany this system; and when it is consistently carried out, they become atrocities of the most horrible kind in the eyes of any rational man. Nor should this occasion surprise, for the officer of a society does not feel justified in surrendering the interests of that society for the sake of mercy, as he might his own private interests. It is natural, therefore, that sympathy and fellowship should thus produce a most ruthless power.

In judging this method of fixing belief, which may be called the method of authority, we must, in the first place, allow its immeasurable mental and moral superiority to the method of tenacity. Its success is proportionately greater; and, in fact, it has over and over again worked the most majestic results. The mere structures of stone which it has caused to be put together — in Siam, for example, in Egypt, and in Europe — have many of them a sublimity hardly more than rivaled by the greatest works of Nature. And, except the geological epochs, there are no periods of time so vast as those which are measured by some of these organized faiths. If we scrutinize the matter closely, we shall find that there has not been one of their creeds which has remained always the same; yet the change is so slow as to be imperceptible during one person’s life, so that individual belief remains sensibly fixed. For the mass of mankind, then, there is perhaps no better method than this. If it is their highest impulse to be intellectual slaves, then slaves they ought to remain.

But no institution can undertake to regulate opinions upon every subject. Only the most important ones can be attended to, and on the rest men’s minds must be left to the action of natural causes. This imperfection will be no source of weakness so long as men are in such a state of culture that one opinion does not influence another — that is, so long as they cannot put two and two together. But in the most priest-ridden states some individuals will be found who are raised above that condition. These men possess a wider sort of social feeling; they see that men in other countries and in other ages have held to very different doctrines from those which they themselves have been brought up to believe; and they cannot help seeing that it is the mere accident of their having been taught as they have, and of their having been surrounded with the manners and associations they have, that has caused them to believe as they do and not far differently. And their candor cannot resist the reflection that there is no reason to rate their own views at a higher value than those of other nations and other centuries; and this gives rise to doubts in their minds.

They will further perceive that such doubts as these must exist in their minds with reference to every belief which seems to be determined by the caprice either of themselves or of those who originated the popular opinions. The willful adherence to a belief, and the arbitrary forcing of it upon others, must, therefore, both be given up, and a new method of settling opinions must be adopted, which shall not only produce an impulse to believe, but shall also decide what proposition it is which is to be believed. Let the action of natural preferences be unimpeded, then, and under their influence let men, conversing together and regarding matters in different lights, gradually develop beliefs in harmony with natural causes. This method resembles that by which conceptions of art have been brought to maturity. The most perfect example of it is to be found in the history of metaphysical philosophy. Systems of this sort have not usually rested upon any observed facts, at least not in any great degree. They have been chiefly adopted because their fundamental propositions seemed “agreeable to reason.” This is an apt expression; it does not mean that which agrees with experience, but that which we find ourselves inclined to believe. Plato, for example, finds it agreeable to reason that the distances of the celestial spheres from one another should be proportional to the different lengths of strings which produce harmonious chords. Many philosophers have been led to their main conclusions by considerations like this; but this is the lowest and least developed form which the method takes, for it is clear that another man might find Kepler’s theory, that the celestial spheres are proportional to the inscribed and circumscribed spheres of the different regular solids, more agreeable to his reason. But the shock of opinions will soon lead men to rest on preferences of a far more universal nature. Take, for example, the doctrine that man only acts selfishly — that is, from the consideration that acting in one way will afford him more pleasure than acting in another. This rests on no fact in the world, but it has had a wide acceptance as being the only reasonable theory.

This method is far more intellectual and respectable from the point of view of reason than either of the others which we have noticed. But its failure has been the most manifest. It makes of inquiry something similar to the development of taste; but taste, unfortunately, is always more or less a matter of fashion, and accordingly metaphysicians have never come to any fixed agreement, but the pendulum has swung backward and forward between a more material and a more spiritual philosophy, from the earliest times to the latest. And so from this, which has been called the a priori method, we are driven, in Lord Bacon’s phrase, to a true induction. We have examined into this a priori method as something which promised to deliver our opinions from their accidental and capricious element. But development, while it is a process which eliminates the effect of some casual circumstances, only magnifies that of others. This method, therefore, does not differ in a very essential way from that of authority. The government may not have lifted its finger to influence my convictions; I may have been left outwardly quite free to choose, we will say, between monogamy and polygamy, and, appealing to my conscience only, I may have concluded that the latter practice is in itself licentious. But when I come to see that the chief obstacle to the spread of Christianity among a people of as high culture as the Hindoos has been a conviction of the immorality of our way of treating women, I cannot help seeing that, though governments do not interfere, sentiments in their development will be very greatly determined by accidental causes. Now, there are some people, among whom I must suppose that my reader is to be found, who, when they see that any belief of theirs is determined by any circumstance extraneous to the facts, will from that moment not merely admit in words that that belief is doubtful, but will experience a real doubt of it, so that it ceases to be a belief.

To satisfy our doubts, therefore, it is necessary that a method should be found by which our beliefs may be caused by nothing human, but by some external permanency — by something upon which our thinking has no effect. Some mystics imagine that they have such a method in a private inspiration from on high. But that is only a form of the method of tenacity, in which the conception of truth as something public is not yet developed. Our external permanency would not be external, in our sense, if it was restricted in its influence to one individual. It must be something which affects, or might affect, every man. And, though these affections are necessarily as various as are individual conditions, yet the method must be such that the ultimate conclusion of every man shall be the same. Such is the method of science. Its fundamental hypothesis, restated in more familiar language, is this: There are real things, whose characters are entirely independent of our opinions about them; those realities affect our senses according to regular laws, and, though our sensations are as different as are our relations to the objects, yet, by taking advantage of the laws of perception, we can ascertain by reasoning how things really are; and any man, if he have sufficient experience and reason enough about it, will be led to the one true conclusion. The new conception here involved is that of reality. It may be asked how I know that there are any realities. If this hypothesis is the sole support of my method of inquiry, my method of inquiry must not be used to support my hypothesis. The reply is this: 1. If investigation cannot be regarded as proving that there are real things, it at least does not lead to a contrary conclusion; but the method and the conception on which it is based remain ever in harmony. No doubts of the method, therefore, necessarily arise from its practice, as is the case with all the others. 2. The feeling which gives rise to any method of fixing belief is a dissatisfaction at two repugnant propositions. But here already is a vague concession that there is some one thing which to which a proposition should conform. Nobody, therefore, can really doubt that there are realities, or, if he did, doubt would not be a source of dissatisfaction. The hypothesis, therefore, is one which every mind admits. So that the social impulse does not cause me to doubt it. 3. Everybody uses the scientific method about a great many things, and only ceases to use it when he does not know how to apply it. 4. Experience of the method has not led me to doubt it, but, on the contrary, scientific investigation has had the most wonderful triumphs in the way of settling opinion. These afford the explanation of my not doubting the method or the hypothesis which it supposes; and not having any doubt, nor believing that anybody else whom I could influence has, it would be the merest babble for me to say more about it. If there be anybody with a living doubt upon the subject, let him consider it.

To describe the method of scientific investigation is the object of this series of papers.
At present I have only room to notice some points of contrast between it and other methods of fixing belief.

This is the only one of the four methods which presents any distinction of a right and a wrong way. If I adopt the method of tenacity, and shut myself out from all influences, whatever I think necessary to doing this is necessary according to that method. So with the method of authority: the state may try to put down heresy by means which, from a scientific point of view, seem very ill-calculated to accomplish its purposes; but the only test on that method is what the state thinks; so that it cannot pursue the method wrongly. So with the a priori method. The very essence of it is to think as one is inclined to think. All metaphysicians will be sure to do that, however they may be inclined to judge each other to be perversely wrong. The Hegelian system recognizes every natural tendency of thought as logical, although it be certain to be abolished by counter-tendencies. Hegel thinks there is a regular system in the succession of these tendencies, in consequence of which, after drifting one way and the other for a long time, opinion will at last go right. And it is true that metaphysicians do get the right ideas at last; Hegel’s system of Nature represents tolerably the science of that day; and one may be sure that whatever scientific investigation has put out of doubt will presently receive a priori demonstration on the part of the metaphysicians. But with the scientific method the case is different. I may start with known and observed facts to proceed to the unknown; and yet the rules which I follow in doing so may not be such as investigation would approve. The test of whether I am truly following the method is not an immediate appeal to my feelings and purposes, but, on the contrary, itself involves the application of the method. Hence it is that bad reasoning as well as good reasoning is possible; and this fact is the foundation of the practical side of logic.

It is not to be supposed that the first three methods of settling opinion present no advantage whatever over the scientific method. On the contrary, each has some peculiar convenience of its own. The a priori method is distinguished for its comfortable conclusions. It is the nature of the process to adopt whatever belief we are inclined to, and there are certain flatteries to the vanity of man which we all believe by nature, until we are awakened from our pleasing dream by some rough facts. The method of authority will always govern the mass of mankind; and those who wield the various forms of organized force in the state will never be convinced that dangerous reasoning ought not to be suppressed in some way. If liberty of speech is to be untrammeled from the grosser forms of constraint, then uniformity of opinion will be secured by a moral terrorism to which the respectability of society will give its thorough approval. Following the method of authority is the path of peace. Certain non-conformities are permitted; certain others (considered unsafe) are forbidden. These are different in different countries and in different ages; but, (W3.256) wherever you are, let it be known that you seriously hold a tabooed belief, and you may be perfectly sure of being treated with a cruelty less brutal but more refined than hunting you like a wolf. Thus, the greatest intellectual benefactors of mankind have never dared, and dare not now, to utter the whole of their thought; and thus a shade of prima facie doubt is cast upon every proposition which is considered essential to the security of society. Singularly enough, the persecution does not all come from without; but a man torments himself and is oftentimes most distressed at finding himself believing propositions which he has been brought up to regard with aversion. The peaceful and sympathetic man will, therefore, find it hard to resist the temptation to submit his opinions to authority. But most of all I admire the method of tenacity for its strength, simplicity, and directness. Men who pursue it are distinguished for their decision of character, which becomes very easy with such a mental rule. They do not waste time in trying to make up their minds what they want, but, fastening like lightning upon whatever alternative comes first, they hold to it to the end, whatever happens, without an instant’s irresolution. This is one of the splendid qualities which generally accompany brilliant, unlasting success. It is impossible not to envy the man who can dismiss reason, although we know how it must turn out at last.

Such are the advantages which the other methods of settling opinion have over scientific investigation. A man should consider well of them; and then he should consider that, after all, he wishes his opinions to coincide with the fact, and that there is no reason why the results of those three first methods should do so. To bring about this effect is the prerogative of the method of science. Upon such considerations he has to make his choice — a choice which is far more than the adoption of any intellectual opinion, which is one of the ruling decisions of his life, to which, when once made, he is bound to adhere. The force of habit will sometimes cause a man to hold on to old beliefs, after he is in a condition to see that they have no sound basis. But reflection upon the state of the case will overcome these habits, and he ought to allow reflection its full weight. People sometimes shrink from doing this, having an idea that beliefs are wholesome which they cannot help feeling rest on nothing. But let such persons suppose an analogous though different case from their own. Let them ask themselves what they would say to a reformed Mussulman who should hesitate to give up his old notions in regard to the relations of the sexes; or to a reformed Catholic who should still shrink from reading the Bible. Would they not say that these persons ought to consider the matter fully, and clearly understand the new doctrine, and then ought to embrace it, in its entirety? But, above all, let it be considered that what is more wholesome than any particular belief is integrity of belief, and that to avoid looking into the support of any belief from a fear that it may turn out rotten is quite as immoral as it is disadvantageous. The person who confesses that there is such a thing as truth, which is distinguished from falsehood simply by this, that if acted on it will carry us to the point we aim at and not astray, and then, though convinced of this, dares not know the truth and seeks to avoid it, is in a sorry state of mind indeed.

Yes, the other methods do have their merits: a clear logical conscience does cost something — just as any virtue, just as all that we cherish, costs us dear. But we should not desire it to be otherwise. The genius of a man’s logical method should be loved and reverenced as his bride, whom he has chosen from all the world. He need not contemn the others; on the contrary, he may honor them deeply, and in doing so he only honors her the more. But she is the one that he has chosen, and he knows that he was right in making that choice. And having made it, he will work and fight for her, and will not complain that there are blows to take, hoping that there may be as many and as hard to give, and will strive to be the worthy knight and champion of her from the blaze of whose splendors he draws his inspiration and his courage.