It still seems to me that making things true or untrue, caused or uncaused with words is not the same thing as noting the correlation between worlds and words. Here it seems we are as befuddled now as we were when the first mind thought about these profoundly problematic and mysterious relationships.

It's stimulating and entertaining to ponder them, sure, but it's never really gone much beyond that "in reality".

Whatever [out in the world] that means.

Jimmy_sanfrancisco wrote:What's the difference between a pretend belief and a non-pretend belief? A preliminary distinction:

The function of a non-pretend belief is to match the world. Otherwise put: a non-pretend belief has a mind-to-world function. A pretend belief does not have a mind-to-world function.

Yes, this is clearly the case regarding the distinction made between the two interpretations of James T. Kirk in the original Star Trek TV series.

But what has always fascinated me philosophically is not the distinction made between fact and fiction but the distinction made between conflicting versions of the facts, and, given these conflicting versions, how we ought to act in the face of them. This is where the profound limits of philosophical language become apparent to me.

Let me give you an example of this from my favorite Star Trek movie, Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home.

One of the sub-plots in the film revolved around the perennial squabble between Kirk and Spock over the role of emotion in human interaction. I say human interaction because, as those who enjoy immersing themselves in the Star Trek universe know, Spock was half human and half Vulcan. The Vulcan half was basically bereft of emotional reactions. A Vulcan's reaction to the world was always logical, supremely rational. Thus the human half of Spock was, apparently, something he kept buried deep down in his psyche.

In the course of the movie, the Kirk [emotional], Spock [rational] conflict ebbed and flowed. But in a climactic scene near the end, the crew of the Enterprise are in a jam. One of their comrades, Pavel Chekhov, is isolated from the rest of them. He is in a hospital sure to die if not rescued. But if the crew goes after him they risk the possibility of not completing their mission. And if they don't complete their mission every man, woman and child on earth will die.

Spock's initial reaction is purely calculated: It is clearly more important [more rational] to save the lives of all planet earth's inhabitants then to risk these lives in the effort to save just one man.

But Kirk intervenes emotionally and reminds everyone that Chekhov is one of them. So, naturally, this being a Hollywood movie, Spock ends up agreeing that saving Chekhov is now the #1 priority. And, naturally, this being a Hollywood film, they still have time to rescue planet earth from the whale-probe. Barely.

Now, we can react to this film just as we react to Kirk above. The film is fiction, so the events never actually occured. But the filming of it is real and it did occur. Two levels of reality easily distinguished.

But what about the moral dilemma posed in the film. Is it more rational [ethical] to save Chekhov, if it means possibly the destruction of all human life on earth?

What are the limits of philosophical language here in deciding this? Can it even be decided philosophically?

Consider it in two ways:

In the first, we can rescue our beloved friend knowing there might still be time to rescue everyone else.

In the second, we can rescue our beloved friend knowing that, if we do, there is no time left to rescue everyone else.

Iambiguous wrote:
Consider it in two ways:

In the first, we can rescue our beloved friend knowing there might still be time to rescue everyone else.

In the second, we can rescue our beloved friend knowing that, if we do, there is no time left to rescue everyone else.

Tfindlay wrote: I think the second scenario is the more interesting because it forces a choice between the needs of many vs the needs of the few.

Also, it reinforces the extent to which our emotional and psychological reaction to the world around us can marble any supposed "rational" discourse. If someone we know and love is in danger it can easily prompt us to rationalize giving priority to her rescue.

It's similar to the manner in which we can be rivited by a news story relating to a single child trapped in an abandoned mine shaft while a story relating to the thousands of children who starve to death every single day prompts little or no reaction from either the media or from the individuals all around us.

The single child has a name and a face and a narrative. The thousands starving become basically abstractions to most of us.

The human mind is often anything but a font of reason.

Tfindlay wrote: I suppose if the Federation had a law that the needs of the many must always outweigh the needs of the few the decision would be heavily influenced by such a law but, even so, the individuals involved might arrive at computed responses in defiance of the Federation.

Actually, the plot of the original Star Trek TV series often revolved around Us versus Them. Us being the capitalist West with our emphasis on individual freedom and Them being the Communist Klingons with their emphasis on pursuing war in order to expand "the good of the many".

Thus, we are supposed to cheer on the crew of the Enterprise for going after Chekhov. Why? Because, unlike Them, We don't abandon the individual in order to foster what is perceived [by the communist dictators] to be in the best interest of "the people"---synonymous of course with The State.

My point is that---philosophically, ethically---there is no objective answer that can be derived through Reason.

Sure, I would like to believe that, if I were in charge and was certain that rescuing the one I loved would mean abandoning all of the others I don't really know to death, I would do the "right thing" and rescue the many. But it always depends as much on how we perceive the circumstantial context and how we feel about it as it does some abstract philosophical invention like Kant's categorical imperative. Kant's deontological ethics [derived through Reason] requires that, first and foremeost, we must act in accordance with our Duty and always do the right thing.

That is an intellectual contraption to me. There is no necessarily right or wrong behavior.