My Argument that the World is Perceptually Emergent

In 2000, when I was thinking about what to write my master’s thesis on, I had some interesting discussions with my thesis advisor, Richard Lee, who had his Ph.D. from Stanford.

I was aware that the 18th century philosopher George Berkeley called himself an immaterialist, meaning he did not believe in matter. I had not read Berkeley’s works carefully though, while Richard had and had taught on Berkeley. I also knew that Berkeley was derided for saying this. I knew this just from the general environment in the department and talking to people. So I came to Dr. Lee with two main questions that bothered me. I assumed there were simple answers.
   

The first was what Berkeley’s argument was that matter didn’t exist. Lee replied Socratically, which was his manner, “What makes you think there is one? Maybe he had many.” I felt foolish for assuming there was just one argument that Berkeley had given, but Lee’s reply opened up a whole area of inquiry for me which would later prove useful. My second question was, “What is the argument against Berkeley’s claim?” The term “idealism” is what Berkeley was later categorized as, though he himself never heard such a term. Today Berkeley is one of the most famous “idealists.” So from Lee’s point of view my question amounted to asking what the argument against idealism is. This time Lee’s answer really surprised me. I was expecting him to regurgitate a well-established answer. Instead, he replied wryly, “Have you ever heard of fashion?” He went on to explain that there was not a specific argument against Berkeley’s claim, but suggested the question would make a good thesis title. He suggested I explore both questions in my thesis and title it “Refutations of Idealism.”

Looking back I think in Dr. Lee’s mind he thought I was going to find answers to my questions, and was interested in hearing them. I was simply determined to try my best to find out and report on what I learned. I assumed if Berkeley had arguments that matter didn’t exist, I would find some holes in them, and I assumed if I dug deep enough I was bound to discover what the fatal flaw with Berkeley’s thinking was. So that’s how I began my thesis.

Incidentally I passed my thesis defense in May 2001, so I must have done a fairly good job. I don’t plan here to explain Berkeley’s arguments or critique the various refutations of his writing. I already did that in my thesis and have covered the subject many times in my books and papers. Instead, I talked about this as an introduction to the subject of what my own argument that there is no matter is today and what my argument for my alternative, psychic emergence, is.

I will add, however, a couple things I later learned about Berkeley. I have counted 24 arguments Berkeley gave for his claim that matter didn’t exist, and even why he believed it impossible. And I have learned that there is no actual verbal argument against Berkeley. The only two famous refutations I am aware of, after 25 years since writing my thesis on the subject, were largely performative. They were Samuel Johnson kicking a rock in 1763 and G. E. Moore waving his hand in the air in 1939. In both cases, the men failed to understand what Berkeley meant by 'matter.' And Samuel Johnson was not a philosopher, but a lexicographer.

We can’t get started until we clarify what we mean by “matter.” There are two senses of the word. The first is the colloquial sense and how it is used in the physical sciences. This first sense is in fact closest to its original meaning in its Latin form materia, which meant the substance from which something is made, most notably wood. So the 'matter' you built your house from refers literally to the materials used in its construction. But there is a second use of the word “matter” that is specific to metaphysics in philosophy. This is the theoretical substance we cannot directly perceive with our senses, but that is thought to be the underlying hidden cause of our experience. This is a strange notion and I have discussed it in many papers. John Locke said of this sense of underlying substance:

The idea of corporeal substance in matter is as remote from our conceptions and apprehensions, as that of spiritual substance, or spirit. (An Essay Concerning Human Understanding, 1689).

Chris Hill, who taught me metaphysics and had his Ph.D. from Harvard, and now teaches at Brown University, told me this second theoretical sense of “matter” is purely a theoretical entity. It’s not something we can perceive or prove. It is simply the basis of a metaphysical view in philosophy called “materialism.”     

This is the sense of “matter” that Berkeley argued did not exist. 

So, when talking about whether matter exists, we need to clear up which sense of the word we are using. When Samuel Johnson kicked a rock to prove Berkeley wrong and that matter did in fact exist, he didn’t understand the sense of ‘matter’ Berkeley was referring to. As I said, Johnson was not a philosopher and had likely never read the works of Berkeley.

So I was going to say what my own argument is that ‘matter’ (in this secondary metaphysical sense as used in philosophy) doesn’t exist is. To begin, the question needs to be reversed. The question isn't what is my argument that matter doesn't exist, but rather what is the argument that it does? There is no such argument, either empirical or linguistic. You can’t perceive it. And there certainly exists no logical argument for why it must exist. The only case that one could make for matter is that it might possibly exist. But since we can’t picture it, what are we even claiming to be possible? Most appeals to common sense that it exists are confusing this metaphysical sense of it with the colloquial everyday sense of the word, as materials we can perceive that things are built out of, which no person has ever argued against. 

I don’t argue against ‘matter’ in this common sense of the term. In fact my system of an evolution of perception succeeds at explaining how such perceived matter eventually emerges in experience. I certainly don't deny its presence in experience. 

But my main argument against the theoretical notion of matter is that belief in its existence explains nothing. Instead it only produces a secondary hidden substance beyond the substances we perceive, and hence adds to the sum of things we have left to explain rather than eliminating one. While we began with our perceived world to explain, we wind up with it and our theoretical entity to explain. So it only adds to the sum of things needing explaining.

On the other hand, my theory of an evolution of perception begins without the metaphysical form of matter and ends of accounting for the common sense form of it in experience that materialism failed to explain. My argument for psychic emergence is that it explains matter, something ‘matter’ in its metaphysical sense couldn't do.

SUMMARIZING

The two distinct senses of the word ‘matter’ make a difference. Without such a distinction you don’t understand what is being said and your objections make no sense. Like Moore and Johnson who effectively made fools of themselves.

Second, the question of what is my argument that ‘matter’ (as used in metaphysics) doesn’t exist should be reversed. There is no argument for its existence, either empirical or linguistic.

Thirdly, I don’t argue against ‘matter’ in its common sense. In fact my system explains how it emerges in experience — it certainly doesn’t deny its presence in experience.

Lastly, I show that belief that the word ‘matter’ in its metaphysical sense as an unseen unfelt causally responsible substance we can’t observe exists doesn’t explain anything. Instead it only produces a word for a theoretical entity that we in turn can’t explain. So it adds to the sum of things needing explaining.

My argument for psychic emergence is that it explains what ‘matter’ in its metaphysical sense can’t.

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