Showing posts with label Wikipedia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wikipedia. Show all posts

Tuesday, 3 August 2010

Epistemic Egalitarianism

A posting today over at Leiter Reports raises this topic in one way and some reflections I have been having lately on the last US presidential election raise it in another way. Leiter's posting concerns a claim made by Larry Sanger, one of the co-founders of Wikipedia who subsequently left the site. Sanger is quoted by Leiter as claiming that there was a problem in trying to run the site, a problem he tags by the label of "epistemic egalitarianism". What this amounted to, on Sanger's view, was an implicit and often explicit disdain for experts, that is, for anyone who had actually written on a topic or spent any serious time thinking about it as expressed in sustained writings over a period of time. The reason for this disdain for experts is summarised by Sanger as follows: "They feel that for everything to be as fair as possible and as equal as possible, the only thing that ought to matter is the content [of a claim] itself, not its source".


I'll come back to that assertion later, as it is interesting, regardless of whether or not Sanger is correct in attributing it to the culture that grew up in Wikipedia. It expresses a particular kind of "epistemic egalitarianism". A second sort, which I will distinguish more carefully later, found expression around the last US presidential election as can be seen in the figures of Joe the Plumber and Sarah Palin. The appeal to Joe the Plumber was meant as a riposte to the pretensions of the "liberal elite" with this guy shown as voicing a view that such an elite found uncomfortable. A similar role, in fact, arose for Gillian Duffy, in the so-called "bigot-gate" scandal during the last UK election. In both cases an "ordinary" person was held to voice truths that the political and intellectual elites didn't wish to recognise with the point being that in voicing this truth they laid claim to a knowledge that transcended expertise. In British culture, this kind of knowledge is what is often referred to as "common sense".


The example of Sarah Palin further fits in to the kind of Joe the Plumber/Gillian Duffy case. Palin presented herself as an ordinary woman and some of her supporters endorsed her precisely because they felt she spoke like themselves. In this case we have a kind of cross-over figure, someone meant, as it were, to be Duffy/Joe who nonetheless attains an exalted position.


I want to now distinguish the case of the claim said by Sanger to be at work in the Wikipedia case from that in the Joe/Duffy example. The claim Sanger argues was detrimental in Wikipedia involves an elevation in the status of claims over and above any authority accorded to the one making the claims. So this kind of "epistemic egalitarianism" is egalitarian in taking most seriously what is said, with a concomitant downgrading in the status of who says it. This is like a counter to the traditional argument from authority in Sanger's rendition of it since the greater the alleged authority of the one making the claim the less attention could well be paid since their authority detracts from simple examination of the claim itself. This is the way this kind of "egalitarianism" has the effect of deflating expertise.


This first kind of epistemic egalitarianism seems to me to differ, however, from the kind at work in the cases of Joe/Gillian/Sarah. In these latter cases we have a distinct kind of claim in the sense that there is, in this case, set against the knowledge of the expert a distinct and separate kind of knowledge that is effectively preferable to expert knowledge and a reason is given for taking it to be so. In this case, unlike in the first, there is not emphasis on the claim at the expense of the one making it. Rather, in this case, there is a new kind of appeal to authority, albeit authority is now found in places where it was previously scorned. This is the heart of populist epistemic egalitarianism since it finds "common sense" to be a greater source of insight than any alleged expertise and believes there are privileged sites of common sense, i.e., certain persons who possess greater quantities of it and by virtue of this have greater authority despite the pretensions of some to deny this.


So the first kind of epistemic egalitarian could, most charitably, be taken to be performing a kind of reduction on claims that enables them to be taken seriously in their own right regardless of source with the point however being that no specific authority builds up in any given source over time. All sources are putatively equal, the claim alone should convince.


The second kind of epistemic egalitarian is quite different from the first since this kind of egalitarian defers to a knowledge that is distinct from that of expertise and preferable to it. Since this is so a specific reason now arises for preferring the expressions of those who have no apparent special insight since it is precisely this lack of learned insight which enables their "common sense" to be more purely expressed.


Having distinguished these kinds of epistemic egalitarianism I now want to reflect on some of the roots of the spread of these beliefs. On one level the first kind of epistemic egalitarian has a point since the claim that we should take claims more seriously than putative authorities has some epistemic grounding. It is always possible, after all, for anyone to be wrong, no one is infallible and simply assuming that anyone who has worked on something all their life is therefore best placed to know all about it has some problems. In some areas there are specific difficulties even in assessing what expertise consists in. Certainly the knowledge possessed by, for example, a moral philosopher or a politician is of quite a different kind to that possessed by a particle physicist or surgeon. We wouldn't want just anyone to perform operations on us nor would we trust someone who wandered in off the street to know how to fly a plane. So, when it comes to scientific and technical situations we often grant an epistemic privilege since that seems much the most prudent course.


When it comes to matters that are moral and political there is less admission of the notion of expertise since what it is to be an expert here is less evident. Aristotle was one of the first but certainly not the last to remark that we could not expect the same type of precision and clarity in ethics as we would in accounts of nature. And moral philosophers, for example, aren't, just by virtue of their study, necessarily better at making ethical choices than others. Similarly, politicians can make spectacular errors in running things. So in one sense it makes some obvious sense to give more credit to particular claims made in this error than necessarily to base our response on a presumed authority accruing to the one making the claims.


Having said this, however, there is still something rather odd about this first kind of epistemic egalitarianism. After all, if who makes a claim really makes no difference to the status of the claim itself than why ever bother engaging in sustained and serious study of anything belong to the wide area of "human sciences" at all? We would be better off not ever having "expert" status in such fields since it appears to lead nowhere. At this point we can see how, despite the distinction that does exist between the two kinds of epistemic egalitarian that one posture does easily lead to the other.


This also helps to pin-point the error that is made by epistemic egalitarians. The second version of the doctrine follows through the implications of the first and then purports to reverse the status of who is to be taken as understanding correctly the situation. In this version it is no longer really a form of egalitarianism at all since now there is a special source of insight after all claimed but what makes it appear egalitarian is that this insight is claimed to be found in the "common people". Again, there are senses in which this claim can make a case. For example, it is true that an economist, for example, might make an argument for a view that will affect the livelihoods of many people and that such people, who do not possess the expertise of the economist will have other means of arguing against his claims and other kinds of evidence to mount against his.


So there can be kinds of battles in which the nature of what is taken to count as relevant evidence can be legitimately waged. Those kinds of battles concern the application of a doctrine. In one sense such a battle can also be fought concerning whether the application is, in any event, the right way of understanding the implications of the doctrine in question. After all, few doctrines have only one way of being applied and so the argument can legitimately concern whether the application being urged follows from the doctrine itself. This question of application is, in fact, one of the key difficulties in grasping political theories in general as is witnessed by the general claim that certain kinds of doctrines have never really been tried.


When looked at in this way it becomes clearer that the question of expertise at issue in the cases of Gillian/Sarah and Joe can have more sides to it than their particular cases might suggest. However the rise of the generic suggestion that types can be erected around given figures who can speak a truth that is not being articulated by power have, like the first kind of claim, much about them that is paradoxical. In these cases the figures in question are taken to have something representative about them even though no mechanisms have been demonstrated to exist to legitimate them in this role. Further, in claiming that a truth is spoken here that power has been unwilling to recognise they attach to these figures a status that arises, not, in fact, from some specific placing of these figures after all, but rather from what it is that they are claiming.


The precise claims made by Joe, Gillian and Sarah are alleged to be valuable because of the recognisable nature of who says them but, in truth, this is not so. After all, if Joe had asserted that the accumulated expertise of Republican leaders for the last 30 years seemed only to have produced systemic crisis and aversion from economic realities would he really have been accorded the status he received? Or if Gillian had argued with the Prime Minister that deregulation of the economy was the source of New Labour's troubles is it as likely that she would have been taken to be so emblematic? These questions are posed in a rhetorical form but surely it is right to show that it is the combination of a claim that attaches to particular agendas with the connection to someone "ordinary" that is the source of the "common sense" appeal?


What this suggests is that the two kinds of epistemic egalitarianism have a tendency to merge. Whilst the first kind tends to promote the view that there is no real basis for taking seriously accumulated insight and hence move to the second view, the second view itself tends to promote particular positions and only incidentally to value their expression by certain types of people.


Both kinds of epistemic egalitarianism also have a consequence that is not often recognised. This is the consequence I would label as the promotion of credulous disbelief, the attitude at work in conspiracy theories in particular. This consequence is one of general disbelief in the statements of "experts" qua "experts". Once this has been taken to be a default position then one might wonder what basis there is for belief in something? Well, if the "experts" are not to be trusted then it is not much of a step to assume that they are hiding something from us. Since no one of any authority can be taken too seriously in social matters it follows that we should listen to someone scorned by those in authority and since those scorned have been belittled and demoted we can turn then to listen to the theories of those taken to be "cranks". We are then open to belief in anything, having scorned the pretensions of insight. 


The general result of this diagnosis is that epistemic egalitarianism is a generic view that is dangerous in its implications. These implications turn out to include special claims of insight that point us away from possibilities of enlightenment towards belief in the most dubious views. The claims of such egalitarians are classic examples of "enthusiasm" and as such, the siren appeal of these views is one that needs to be resisted.

Wednesday, 31 March 2010

Academia and New Technology (I)

I've been prompted to think about the question of how teaching in the university today can be, and is, connected to the rise of the Internet and new media outlets by a couple of things. On the one hand, there is my own practice, which has begun to engage with the rise of such new outlets. Evidently I write this blog. I also run a website which has a number of links to further resources additional to those distributed during the course and which presents pieces of mine that have not been published elsewhere. All of this material is open access. Similarly I Twitter. The combination of these three elements surely indicates an engagement with new technology, an engagement intended both to ensure that there is further material available for my students and to enable greater engagement with a community beyond my university and its students.


Additionally, however, I am aware both that my standard activity as a lecturer remains stubbornly locked in the past in a manner well parodied by Michael Wesch. More importantly, however, I have been awakened to the need to think through these questions by a series of postings from David Campbell, including this one and the article form of it he has made available as a link to a more recent posting. There are so many questions that emerge from these postings of Campbell's that it will take at least a couple of postings to respond.


One of the key components of Campbell's analysis of the impact of the new information technologies is that they have ensured a break between information and distribution. In relation to the general mass media this is fairly easy to see since there is no need for one specific form of distribution of information any longer. Newspapers, TV, radio, cinema, all, as specific mediums, have clear limitations and the rise of networks of information that can go through and beyond them has inspired widespread talk of a "crisis of journalism" and campaigns by Rupert Murdoch, in particular, for the re-introduction of firewalls around information, effectively imposing a tariff on its circulation. Campbell is, not surprisingly, both sceptical as to the potential success of this attempted re-imposition of tariff walls and, furthermore, committed to the importance of open source information, not least because it ensures that each part of information circulated can, thereby, attract commentary, potentially in the process enabling contributions that can enrich the original.


The discussion of the old forms of media and how they are impacted by the rise of new networks of information is one thing, and something that will certainly keep the contributors to such media busy. However, it is quite a different thing to try and assess the impact of these new media on the activities of academia. There are two specific areas that Campbell addresses and which are worthy of further discussion and analysis. On the one hand, and this was also the point of the contribution of Wesch, there is the impact on teaching and learning. On the other, there is the impact on research and production of new academic content. In this posting I'll concentrate initially just on teaching, leaving the impact on research for the next posting.


In the area of teaching and learning the break between distribution and information that Campbell is speaking about is very evident. Lectures, as a form, are increasingly threatened. Jeff Jarvis points out that, for example, there are now many excellent lectures available free on-line in relation to a whole host of subjects. Some are distributed on YouTube, others freely available on the web-sites of the universities where the lecturer is employed. In this situation, Jarvis suggests, perhaps it would be better simply to allow students to access this material and then try to add value on top of it. The availability of lectures on-line is not the only problem. There are also reference works, of very differing quality out there. In the area of philosophy there is the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy and, as we are all well aware, Wikipedia. Along with such services there is an epic increase in plagiarism since, if information is what is required from the students, there is every incentive for them simply to find sources that already possess it and simply reproduce it.


What this disconnect between information and distribution at the academic level of teaching and learning suggests is two things. On the part of the learner, something needs to be given to them that is different from what they can just pick up elsewhere without the lecturer or university having really contributed anything. They need somehow to be engaged with a process that is specific to their encounter with the university and the lecturer, something that they cannot find just "out there". On the part of the lecturer, there needs to be developed some kind of strategy of engagement with the students. It isn't simply a problem with the students if they don't engage. There must also be, in some sense, a problem with the lecturers and with the universities.


Addressing this situation is, naturally, much more difficult than diagnosing it. The attempt to resolve the problems by talking about, for example, distance or on-line learning, does very little. Partly because, as Campbell acutely points out, it tends to mean little more than re-designing the university web-site and even viewed in such a minimal light is typically less than effective. Engaging students with producing on-line material, as is sometimes suggested, is potentially better but still leaves them treating existent material in much the same way as traditional books and articles. Given these problems it is not that surprising that there are multiple cases of argument for what amounts to the abolition of the university both from the standpoint of business and from Marxists and even reached the pages of the New York Times. Whilst these positions are, unsurprisingly, very different in terms of the point of their criticisms of the university as it stands at present, there are some important points in common between them. There is, on the one hand, the clear view that the structured separation of teacher from learner is one that belongs, in some sense, to the past (as Jarvis puts it to the mass production era). Secondly, there is the sense of a crisis in disciplinarity (particularly marked in the NYT piece).


The reasons why there is a perceived "crisis" in the university model of teaching turn out to be very similar to the reasons why there is taken to be a "crisis" in journalism. There are, on the one hand, the effects of the circulation of information bypassing points of distribution (so the lecturer no longer possesses a privileged role in relation to the student). On the other, the ability to line up teaching and learning with the new technologies is effectively being by-passed in most institutions though, intriguingly, this is not so in the most prestigious ones which are quite happy to allow open access to lectures in the form of videos, mp3 files and iTunes U. Jarvis' argument that universities generally embrace the best material already extant and then add to it is one means by which this teaching and learning situation could be addressed. The other way is for lecturers generally to engage more widely in more diverse forms of distribution of information themselves rather than simply relying on the passive setting of lectures. This does, however, require two things from universities: firstly, time for training and engagement of lecturers in new means of communication and, secondly, reward structures that engage those prepared to do this. It would also be helpful to engage lecturers who are really involved in research and to take seriously the commitment of teachers to produce good research so that they are not simply adding to the material of others but producing good material of their own. That, however, would be the topic of a separate posting.

Tuesday, 9 February 2010

BHL and Kant

It would appear that Bernard-Henri Levy has been caught out in a very silly error since he has, in print, launched an attack on Kant by means of use of a fictional philosopher who he assumed was real. The full story is in today's copy of The Times and thanks to one of my students for sharing this with me on Twitter today. Levy seems to have believed that there exists a philosopher by the name of Jean-Baptiste Botuli founder of the school known as "Botulism" (what else?). Botuli is the fictive author of a book with the somewhat lovely title The Sex Life of Immanuel Kant though the page on him on Wikipedia states that he is a fake


There are clear comical sides to this whole episode, not least the idea of Levy thinking, even with impeccable sources, that he could seriously venture a view on Kant. However the real problem with the whole thing is that it simply reinforces the usual patronising attitude of Anglo-Americans to the French as can be seen in the comments on this business over at Nigel Warburton's blog and at Leiter Reports. It does, though, perhaps present some good reasons for thinking that if you are going to respond to a major philosopher like Kant that it might be a good idea to do so on the basis of their work rather than secondary texts with ludicrous titles.