The Analysis of Matter

the physical world is either the effect of unreasoning habit or the conclusion of an inference. Now there cannot be any logical impossibility in a world consisting of just that medley of events which I perceive or remember, and nothing else. Such a world would be fragmentary, absurd, and lawless, but not self-contradictory.[44] I am aware that, according to many philosophers, such a world would be self-contradictory. I am aware also that, according to other philosophers, what we perceive is not fragmentary, but really embraces the whole universe—what is fragmentary is only what we perceive that we perceive. The first of these views is that of Hegel and his followers; the second is that of Bergson and (perhaps) of Dr Whitehead. The Hegelian view rests upon an elaborate logic, which I have controverted on former occasions; at present I am content to refer to what I have written before. The other view is traditionally associated with mysticism; my reasons for not accepting it are given in Mysticism and Logic. I say, therefore, on grounds given in former writings, that the world of perception and memory is fragmentary, but not self-contradictory. On grounds of logic, I hold that nothing existent can imply any other existent except a part of itself, if implication is taken in the sense of what Professor G. I. Lewis calls "strict implication," which is[Pg 200] the relevant sense for our present discussion. If this is true, it follows that any selection of the things in the world might be absent, so far as self-contradiction is concerned. Given a world consisting of particulars , , , ... interrelated in various ways, the world which results from the obliteration of must be logically possible. It follows that the world consisting only of what we perceive and recollect cannot be self-contradictory; if, therefore, we are to believe in the existence of things which we neither perceive nor recollect, it must be either on the ground that we have other non-inferential ways of knowing matters of fact, or on the basis of an argument which has not the type of cogency that we should demand in pure mathematics, in the sense that the conclusion is only probable. As for the fragmentary character of the perceived world, those who deny it have to introduce minute perceptions, like Leibniz, or unconscious perceptions, or vague perceptions, or something of the kind. Now it seems to me unnecessary to inquire whether there are perceptions of such kinds; I certainly am not prepared to deny them dogmatically. But I do say that, even if they exist, they are useless as a basis for physics. Perceptions of which we are not sufficiently conscious to express them in words are scientifically negligible as data; our premisses must be facts which we have explicitly noted. Vagueness, no doubt, is omnipresent and unavoidable; but it is only in proportion as we overcome it that exact science becomes possible. And we overcome it most by analysis and concentration, not by a diffused ecstatic mystical vision. I return now to the question: What grounds have we for inferring that our percepts and what we recollect do not constitute the entire universe? I believe that at bottom our main ground is the desire to believe in simple causal laws. But proximately there are other arguments. When we speak to people, they behave more or less as we should if we heard such words, not as we do when we speak them. When I say[Pg 201] that they behave in a similar manner, I mean that our perceptions of their bodies change in the same sort of way as our perceptions of our own bodies would m correlative circumstances. When an officer who has risen from the ranks gives the word of command, he sees his men doing what he used to do when he heard the same sounds as a private; it is therefore natural to suppose that they have heard the word of command. One may see a crowd of jackdaws in a newly-ploughed field all fly away at the moment when one hears a shot; again it is natural to suppose that the jackdaws heard the shot. Again: reading a book is a very different experience from composing one; yet, if I were a solipsist, I should have to suppose that I had composed the works of Shakespeare and Newton and Einstein, since they have entered into my experience. Seeing how much better they are than my own books, and how much less labour they have cost me, I have been foolish to spend so much time composing with the pen rather than with the eye. All this, however, would perhaps be the better for being set forth formally. First, there is a preliminary labour of regularizing our own percepts. I spoke of seeing others do what we should do in similar circumstances; but the similarity is obvious only as a result of interpretation. We cannot see our face (except the nose, by squinting) or our head or our back; but tactually they are continuous with what we can see, so that we easily imagine what a movement of an invisible part of our body ought to look like. When we see another person frowning, we can imitate him; and I do not think the habit of seeing ourselves in the glass is indispensable for this. But probably this is explained by imitative impulses—i.e. when we see a bodily action, we tend to perform the same action, in virtue of a physiological mechanism. This of course is most noticeable in children. Thus we first do what someone else has done, and then realize that what we have done is what he did. However,[Pg 202] this complication need not be pursued. What I am concerned with is the passage, by experience, from "apparent" shapes and motions to "real" shapes and motions. This process lies within the perceptual world: it is a process of becoming acquainted with congruent groups—i.e. to speak crudely, with groups of visual sensations which correspond to similar tactual sensations. All this has to be done before the analogy between the acts of others and our own acts becomes obvious. But as it lies within the perceptual world, we may take it for granted. The whole of it belongs to early infancy. As soon as it is completed, there is no difficulty in interpreting the analogy between what we perceive of others and what we perceive of ourselves. The analogy is of two kinds. The simpler kind is when others do practically the same thing as we are doing—for instance, applaud when the curtain goes down, or say "Oh" when a rocket bursts. In such cases, we have a sharp stimulus followed by a very definite act, and our perception of our own act is closely similar to a number of other perceptions which we have at the same time. These, moreover, are all associated with perceptions very like those which we call perceptions of our own bodies. We infer that all the other people have had perceptions analogous to that of the stimulus to our own act. The analogy is very good; the only question is: Why should not the very same event which was the cause of our own act have been the cause of the acts of the others? Why should we suppose that there had to be a separate seeing of the fall of the curtain for each spectator, and not only one seeing which caused all the appearances of bodies to appear to applaud? It may be said that this view is far-fetched. But I doubt if it would be unreasonable but for the second kind of analogy, which is incapable of a similar explanation. In the second kind of analogy, we see others acting as we should act in response to a certain kind of stimulus which,[Pg 203] however, we are not experiencing at the moment. Suppose, for example, that you are a rather short person in a crowd watching election returns being exhibited on a screen. You hear a burst of cheering, but can see nothing. By great efforts, you manage to perceive a very notable result which you could not perceive a few moments earlier. It is natural to suppose that the others cheered because they saw this result. In this case, their perceptions, if they occurred, were certainly not identical with yours, since they occurred earlier; hence, if the stimulus to their cheering was a perception analogous to your subsequent perception, they had perceptions which you could not perceive. I have chosen a rather extreme example, but the same kind of thing occurs constantly; someone says "There's Jones," and you look round and see Jones. It would seem odd to suppose that the words you heard were not caused by a perception analogous to what you had when you looked round. Or your friend says "Listen," and after he has said it you hear distant thunder. Such experiences lead irresistibly to the conclusion that the percepts you call other people are associated with percepts which you do not have, but which are like those you would have if you were in their place. The same principle is involved in the assumption that the words you hear express "thoughts." The argument in favour of the view that there are percepts, connected with other people, which are not among our own percepts, is presupposed in the acceptance of testimony, and comes first in logical order when we are trying to establish the existence of things other than our own percepts, both because of its inherent strength, and because of the usefulness of testimony in the further stages. The argument for other people's percepts seems to common sense so obvious and compelling that it is difficult to make oneself examine it with the necessary detachment. Nevertheless it is important to do so. As we have seen, there are three stages. The first does[Pg 204] not take us outside our own percepts, but consists merely in the arrangement of them in groups. One group consists of all the percepts which common sense believes to be those of an identical object by different senses and from different points of view. When we eliminate reference to an object, a group must be constituted by correlations, partly between one percept and another (touch and sight when an object is held in the hand), partly between one percept and the changes in another (bodily movement and changes of visual and tactual perceptions while we move). In assuming that these correlations will hold in untested cases, we are of course using induction; otherwise, the whole process is straightforward. The process enables us to speak of a "physical object" as a group of percepts, and to explain what we mean by saying that a near object and a distant object are "really" of the same size and shape. Also we can explain what we mean by saying that a physical object does not "really" change as we walk away from it (i.e. as we have the percepts which make us say we are walking). This is the first stage in the argument. In the second stage, we note the likeness of the physical objects called other people's bodies to each other and to our own body; we also note the likeness of their behaviour to our behaviour. In the case of our own behaviour, we can observe a number of correlations between stimulus and reaction (both being percepts). For example, we feel hunger or thirst, and then we eat or drink; we hear a loud noise, and we jump; we see Jones, and we say "Hullo, Jones." The behaviour of the percepts we call other people's bodies is similar to that of our own body in response to this or that stimulus; sometimes we experience the stimulus, and behave just as others do, which is the second stage; sometimes we do not experience the stimulus, but suppose, from