Wow, fantastic email -- getting at the heart of some major philosophical ideas and movements. Empiricists tend to stress the role of perception/experience in producing knowledge, while rationalists tend to promoe the role of reason, often arguing on the basis of such considerations as those you mention. A couple of quick thoughts about the specifics of your message. Your example of a problematic perception (spinning cube looks like sphere) doesn't quite/fully show that perception is problematic, partly because some other perception is relevant to getting at the truth, ie seeing the cube not spinning. The rationalist might say that reason is needed to process these otherwise conflicting perceptions, but even if this so, it does seem that perception is playing a key role in generating our knowledge of the world (that a cube exists, and that, when spun, it looks spherical) -- so what you've raised is a kind of problem for perception, but not one which obviously (to me anyway) undermines the importance of eprception in generation knowledge. Second, you mention the 'gap' between reality and minds -- and probably need to say more there. Even if everything we come to know about the empirical world were ultimately, in some way, derived from perception, it remains possible that perception is 'veridical' -- gives us true information about the world -- so the sheer fact that our access is mediated via perception does not entail that perception isn't veridical, or even direct .... This doesn't fully answer your excellent question -- how do we know we have knowledge not just perception? but aims to suggest that perception may well play important roles in generating knowledge despite the two kinds of worries you raise ....

hope that helps!

best,

Andrew

It's pretty clearly possible to look without verbal labeling, since animals and infants do that. But whether we can just look at something 'as it is' isn't so clear. One obvious problem: our sensory systems (brain included) do a lot of processing of the information they take in, and this starts early in the process - long before we get to anything over which we have conscious influence. So if that doesn't fit the "seeing as it is" bill, we're already out of luck. But there's another problem: what would count? My cell phone sits beside me. What would it mean to look at it as it is? Among other things, it is a cell phone. If I don't recognize that, there's an obvious sense in which I don't see it as it is - or at least, not for what it is.

But even if we stick to the intrinsic characteristics of the thing apart from its uses, which of the countless many count? There are far more physical facts about my cell phone than my beleaguered brain could ever cope with. Not only that; many of the really important properties of my cell phone are at the level of microchips and the like - not to mention that the thing is made of submicroscopic molecules.

We can certainly train ourselves to focus on "basic" features like color, shape, etc. An artist might need to do that to make a good drawing. So no doubt we can do some of what you probably have in mind. How much is partly a question for the psychology and physiology of perception. But just because our perceptions usually contain more "interpretation" doesn't mean we aren't seeing what is. After all: those interpretations may be true!

The following two things are certainly possible:

1. We can pick up information through our eyes or other sense organs without really thinking about it, and without even noticing what it is before us. As I pass through a crowded market, for example, there are many sights and sounds that affect my senses without my being conscious of them.

2. We can observe an object or a situation without using any words (even to ourselves) to describe what we see. I can study the surface of a rock, for example, without applying any labels to what I see.

What is more controversial is the possibility of consciously attending to something without categorizing it in any way. Some philosophers (myself included) think that being conscious of an object and/or its properties requires us to categorize our sensations in a way that enables us to compare them with other objects and/or properties. In order to notice a strange object in the market, I must recognize it as having a particular shape, or a particular color, which is similar to other shapes, or other colors. Other philosophers, however, think that I can notice objects and their properties without ever categorizing them in this way, and without registering similarities and differences. What makes this dispute difficult to resolve is (a) unclarity about what it means to "recognize" a shape and to see it "as" similar (does a similarity in resulting behavior indicate a "recognition" of similarity?), and (b) the unreliability of introspection (did I categorize the color as being similar to other blue things or not?).

If one thinks that all categorizations detract from one's awareness of an object's or uniqueness -- emphasizing similarities rather than differences in shape, or emphasizing similarities in shape rather than differences in texture -- then the very fact of conscious awareness will get in the way of seeing an object "just as it is". On the other hand, I would suggest that it is precisely through the making of multiple comparisons (shape is like this but unlike that, color is more like this than like that, texture is somewhere between this and that) that the uniqueness of an object becomes evident.

Great question -- and in fact you have your finger on a version of what is ultimately perhaps the strongest argument for a mind-body dualism -- ie the view that mind and body/matter are completely distinct sorts of things. One way to put it is this way: with eyes closed I am seeing (say) a shining sun; but it isn't the real physical shining sun I am seeing (b/c my eyes are closed); therefore I am seeing some non-physical thing, a mental thing, a mental image or representation OF the physical shining sun. Therefore there exist mental things which are distinct from all physical things .... So the phenomenon you invoke is at least strongly suggestive that there are two kinds of seeing, or two kinds fo things seen: mental and physical .... Now, having said that, there are various ways phlosophers have resisted these kinds of arguments -- you might want to look up a philosohper named JJC Smart, and his work on the "identity theory" (denying dualism) to see how he resists these arguments .... Also one other point to make: the way you frame the question is that "I close my eyes and see the SAME postcard and picture ..." You might want to think about what you mean by "same" here -- the argument I just presented suggests that what we see with eyes closed is not literally the SAME things we see with eyes open (the former are mental in nature the latter are physical) -- so do you think these are literally the 'same', or merely (say) 'similar' or 'resembling'?

best,

Andrew Pessin

Iris Young's "Throwing Like a Girl" is a wonderful description of gendered experience. Our experiences of the world are influenced by many factors that have to do with our positions in the world, both our physical positions (biological sex, physical disabilities) and our political positions (race, gender, social class, power). "Experience" is defined broadly to encompass all we are conscious of (some call it phenomenological experience). I recommend Kay Toombs work on the phenomenology of disability as another rich description of perspective.

You are right that we seek to alter our experiences in the world with the use of art, music etc. And insofar as drugs attempt to alter experience and give us new experiences, I agree with you that there is nothing wrong with them. More than that--drugs may be valuable because of the aesthetic and other pleasures they can produce. However, I think those who worry about "altered perceptions of reality" may be concerned that the drug user may be evading responsibilities when they get high ("I don't need to do my work, take care of my kids etc. because life is more interesting on LSD"). Or the drug user may behave when high in a way which does not cohere with his/her values. That is, the objections to drugs seem to me to be ethical rather than epistemic. In addition, the health risks (psychological and physical) of consciousness-altering drugs should be taken into account (another ethical concern). The word "real" is not helpful in this discussion, because it is used to mean so many different things (e.g. what actually exists vs. what matters).

If you wanted to say something in favor of this view, you might point to the absence of observed discrepancies between what we all believe and the truth. But, on reflection, this isn't a strong argument because there are observed discrepancies between what is commonly believed now and what was commonly believed at some earlier time. At the earlier time, p was commonly believed. Now not-p is commonly believed. If what's commonly believed were true, then both p and not-p would be true. But p and not-p cannot both be true. Therefore it is not the case that whatever is commonly believed is true.

Now you might say that what you mean is that truth is nothing more that what's commonly believed throughout the ages, the future included. So here is an argument against this revised view. There are lots of propositions about which there is no common belief shared throughout the ages: neither p nor not-p have been commonly believed. Does it follow that neither p nor not-p are true? For example, it has not been commonly believed throughout the ages that the sun is larger than the moon. Nor has it been commonly believed throughout the ages that the sun is not larger than the moon. Would you then want to conclude that neither belief is true: it is not true that the sun is larger than the moon and also not true that the sun is not larger than the moon?

What's outside the agent's control is, I think, somewhat narrower than what you call "perceptions or cognition." Suppose new DNA evidence reveals that a black man on death row is actually innocent. And suppose the jurors who declared him guilty say that they couldn't help seeing him as guilty when he was brought before them. I think we should be most reluctant to accept this excuse. Perhaps they could not have avoided a certain negative emotional rection to the accused (given the racism of their society and upbringing). But perceiving a person as guilty (of some crime) involves a good bit of judgment on the basis of testimony and other evidence. And here we can examine whether the jurors weighed the evidence carefully, deliberated thoroughly, and so on. As a juror one is not bound to let one's emotional reactions prevail. One can, and one ought to, try one's utmost to put these reactions aside and to judge the case on the basis of the evidence alone.

Now let's look at the narrower question whether we can be morally responsible for our immediate emotional reactions, for the "gut" dislike we sometimes experience for people with certain characteristics. Your argument for a negative answer -- such reactions are not sufficiently under our control -- is plausible when one considers merely the time at which the emotional reaction occurs: at this moment one indeed cannot avoid having it. But when you take a larger time frame, then the reaction is avoidable: when one finds oneself disliking people of a certain kind, then one can make an effort to get to know some of them, for example, and to try to form relationships and friendships that may gradually transform this emotional reaction. (Or may not: you may never be able to shake off your negative emotional reaction to educated people who manifestly don't care about their over-sized ecological footprint.) Those who never make such an effort can be morally responsible for their unwarranted negative emotional reactions.

Consider this parallel case. A driver hits a child that is running across the road. The driver says that he should not be held morally responsible for the accident because, given how fast he was going and how much alcohol he had consumed, he was simply not able to prevent his car from hitting the child. Even if we agree with this driver about the facts, we won't agree with him about his moral responsibility. He could have avoided the accident earlier: by drinking less, by taking a taxi instead of driving himself, or by driving more slowly. Similarly for racist (and analogous) emotional reactions: even if they are unavoidable at the time they are experienced, they may well have been avoidable earlier and are then morally attributable to the person.

If you assume that the air might really be cold, and the car might really be green, then I can think of two situations in which it is more appropriate to say "I feel cold" and "The car seems to be green":

1. You have doubts about whether the temperature really is low (perhaps you are getting sick),or whether the car really is green (perhaps the light is especially low). Conversely, you may want to assert that "It is cold" even though you do not feel it (perhaps because you just emerged from a hot bath) and "the car is green" even though you see it as blue (perhaps because you are colorblind).

2. You want to sound tentative or accommodating of other views (even though you may be quite confident of your own judgment). It may be more polite or friendly to say "I feel cold" or "It looks green" when others disagree.

I suspect, though, that your concern arises from the conviction that properties like coldness and greenness do not exist independently of a subject who feels cold or sees green. If you think that these properties are relational properties -- the result of a particular interaction between a subject and an object -- then it is still quite appropriate to report that "it is cold" or "the car is green", with the understanding that these are relational properties of the air and the car. (This is no different that saying "She is short", with the understanding that she is short in relation to some others.)

If, however, you think that coldness and greenness are properties that belong to subjects only, and that we mistakenly project them onto external objects -- that coldness is a feeling that we wrongly attribute to the air, and that greenness is a sensation that we wrongly attach to cars, then it would be more accurate to say that "I have a cold feeing" and "I have a green experience". The problem with this position is the problem of identifying feelings or experiences independently of the external situations to which they respond. How do we know what a cold feeling except through its correlation with actually low temperatures? How do we know what a green experience is except through its correlation with particular lights and surfaces?

There are two different, but related, issues here, on neither of which is there universal agreement among philosophers (but, then again, is there ever?).

First, there's "Molyneux's problem": Can a person born blind who later gains sight distinguish a cube from a sphere merely by sight (assuming the person could distinguish between them by touch)? There's some empirical evidence that the answer is "no". The psychologist Richard Gregory has investigated this.

But closer to your specific question is the philosopher Frank Jackson's thought experiment about "Mary", a color scientist who lives in a completely black-and-white world but who is the world's foremost expert on color perception. She has never experienced red. Would she learn anything if she experienced it for the first time? I.e., is there anything "phenomenal" to the experience of red over and above what physics can tell us? Jackson originally argued that there was, i.e., that Mary would learn something from the experience of red, namely, what it's like to see red, but he has recently changed his mind. The novelist David Lodge has explored the Mary story in his novel Thinks....

For more on Jackson's thought experiment, see the anthology edited by Peter Ludlow, Y. Nagasawa, and D. Stoljar, There's Something about Mary (MIT Press, 2004).