The Analysis of Matter

the senses. It is therefore not surprising that physics has laid increasing stress upon visual data. At the level of common sense, the most important merit of sight is that it makes us aware of objects at a distance. Sound and smell do this to some extent—smell, however, is much more important to certain species of animals than to us. But neither sound nor smell carry over great distances, and they do not enable us to locate their source at all accurately. If we accept the usual causal theory of perception—as I think we should—the proximate physical cause of the physiological occurrences leading to a visual perception is not something happening in the object which we say we see, but something happening at the surface of the eye. If this is to give us information about the distant object, it must be, in the main, causally determined by the object, without regard to anything intervening between the object and the eye. This is the physical merit of sight which we mentioned a moment ago. It has, of course, very distinct limitations. The colour of the light which reaches the eye will be different from that emitted by the object if there is intervening mist or coloured glass. The direction can be altered by a refracting medium. Mirrors deceive animals and young children. Then there are more subtle matters, such as the Doppler effect and aberration. But[Pg 166] after making all these allowances, sight remains supreme as a method of acquiring knowledge about distant objects. In one respect, sight is defective—namely, in regard to distance. Some psychologists argue that depth can be, to a certain extent, perceived by sight alone, while others contend that it is wholly derived from other data. However that may be, it is certain that sight alone cannot judge any but very small distances. No one can distinguish between a hundred yards and a hundred miles by sight alone. Infants do not know at all, at first, which visual objects are within their grasp and which are not. For practical purposes, visual space has only two dimensions, even if this is not strictly correct in psychological theory. In practice, when we know the "real" size of a distant object, say a man or a cow, we can judge its distance by its apparent size.[38] But our initial experience of distance is derived from the amount of bodily movement required to establish contact. We may only have to stretch out an arm, we may have to lean the body, or we may have to walk for some time. An hour's walk is a natural measure of distance—in fact, it is a league. We cannot arrive at the common-sense idea of space without bringing in movement. And measurement with a measuring rod involves movement, if the distance to be measured is longer than the rod. Of course there is space in our own body, which is known without movement: we refer a headache to the head and a stomachache to the stomach. But this space is limited, and does not give spatial relations between our body and objects merely seen. To acquire a knowledge of these relations, bodily movement is indispensable. And this would never have been available for the purpose if there were not so many objects surrounding us which are motionless relatively to the earth.[Pg 167] We can discover the distance of a house by walking to it, but not of a fox by the distance we have to gallop before reaching him. Science cannot dispense wholly with postulates, but as it advances their number decreases. I mean by a postulate something not very different from a working hypothesis, except that it is more general: it is something which we assume without sufficient evidence, in the hope that, by its help, we shall be able to construct a theory which the facts will confirm. It is by no means essential to science to assume that its postulates are true always or necessarily; it is enough if they are often true. They ought to be so used that, when they are true, they yield verifiable theories, but, when they are not true, no theory can be framed which will fit the facts—until we find a way of working with different postulates. [Pg 168] The most important postulate of science is induction. This may be formulated in various ways, but, however formulated, it must yield the result that a correlation which has been found true in a number of cases, and has never been found false, has at least a certain assignable degree of probability of being always true. I propose to assume the validity of induction, not because I know of any conclusive grounds in its favour, but because it seems, in some form, essential to science and not deducible from anything very different from itself. I do not propose to discuss it, because the problem concerns empirical knowledge in general, not physics in particular; also because the subject is so complicated that a discussion is useless unless it is very lengthy. For the moment I must refer the reader to Mr Keynes and his critics.[39] The other postulates which were at one time thought necessary have gradually been found to be superfluous. At one time, the indestructibility of matter would have been regarded as a postulate. Now, though electrons and protons are supposed to persist as a rule, it is seriously suggested that an electron and a proton may sometimes combine so as to annihilate each other; Eddington has advanced this as an important possible source of stellar energy.[40] It is true that, in this process, energy is supposed to be not destroyed; but the conservation of energy is no more than an empirical generalization, and is not thought to be strictly true. Spatio-temporal continuity was, until lately, a postulate of science, but the quantum theory has called it in question without intellectual disaster. It may be true, but we cannot say that it must be. The existence of causal laws perhaps deserves to rank as a postulate, or may perhaps be proved probable, on the existing evidence, if induction is assumed. Here our proviso is relevant, that a postulate need not be supposed to hold universally. We shall assume that there are causal laws, and try to discover them; but if none are found in a given region, that merely means that science cannot conquer that region. There are at present important regions of this kind. We do not know why a radio-active atom disintegrates at one moment rather than another, or why a planetary electron changes its orbit at one moment rather than another. We cannot be sure that these occurrences severally are governed by laws; but if they are not, science cannot deal with them individually, and is confined to statistical averages. Whether this will prove to be the case, we cannot yet say. FOOTNOTES: [37] Jeans, op. cit., p. 29. [38] To show the depth of Dover cliff, Shakespeare says: "The crows and choughs that wing the midway air Show scarce so gross as beetles." [39] A Treatise on Probability. By John Maynard Keynes. Macmillan, 1920. Le Problème Logique de l'Induction. Par Jean Nicod. Paris, Alcan, 1924. Review of the above by Braithwaite, Mind, 1925. The Foundations of Probability. By R. H. Nisbet. Mind, January, 1926. [40] Nature, May I, 1926, supplement. [Pg 169] CHAPTER XVII WHAT IS AN EMPIRICAL SCIENCE? IT would be generally agreed that physics is an empirical science, as contrasted with logic and pure mathematics. I want, in this chapter, to define in what this difference consists. We may observe, in the first place, that many philosophers in the past have denied the distinction. Thorough-going rationalists have believed that the facts which we regard as only discoverable by observation could really be deduced from logical and metaphysical principles; thorough-going empiricists have believed that the premisses of pure mathematics are obtained by induction from experience. Both views seem to me false, and are, I think, rarely held in the present day; nevertheless, it will be as well to examine the reasons for thinking that there is an epistemological distinction between pure mathematics and physics, before trying to discover its exact nature. There is a traditional distinction between necessary and contingent propositions, and another between analytic and synthetic propositions. It was generally held before Kant that necessary propositions were the same as analytic propositions, and contingent propositions were the same as synthetic propositions. But even before Kant the two distinctions were different, even if they effected the same division of propositions. It was held that every proposition is necessary, assertoric, or possible, and that these are ultimate notions, comprised under the head of "modality." I do not think much can be made of modality, the plausibility of which seems to have come from confusing propositions with propositional functions. Propositions may, it is true, be divided in a way corresponding[Pg 170] to what was meant by analytic and synthetic; this will be explained in a moment. But propositions which are not analytic can only be true or false; a true synthetic proposition cannot have a further property of being necessary, and a false synthetic proposition cannot have the property of being possible. Propositional functions, on the contrary, are of three kinds: those which are true for all values of the argument or arguments, those which are false for all values, and those which are true for some arguments and false for others. The first may be called necessary, the second impossible, the third possible. And these terms may be transferred to propositions when they are not known to be true on their own account, but what is known as to their truth or falsehood is deduced from knowledge of propositional functions. E.g. "it is possible that the next man I meet will be called John Smith" is a deduction from the fact that the propositional function " is a man and is called John Smith" is possible—i.e. true for some values of and false for others. Where, as in this instance, it is worth while to say that a proposition is possible, the fact rests upon our ignorance. With more knowledge, we should know who is the next man I shall meet, and then it would be certain that he is John Smith or certain that he is not John Smith. Possibility in this sense thus becomes assimilated to probability, and may count as any degree of probability other than 0 and 1. An "assertoric" proposition, similarly, was, I think, a confused notion applicable to a proposition known to be true but also known to be a value of a propositional function which is sometimes false—e.g. "John Smith is bald." The distinction of analytic and synthetic is much more relevant to the difference between pure mathematics and physics. Traditionally, an "analytic" proposition was one whose contradictory was self-contradictory, or, what came to the same thing in Aristotelian logic, one which ascribed to a subject a predicate which was part of it—e.g. "white horses[Pg 171] are horses." In practice, however, an analytic proposition was one whose truth could be known by means of logic alone. This meaning survives, and is still important, although we can no longer use the definition in terms of subject and predicate or that in terms of the law of contradiction. When Kant argued that "7 + 5= 12" is synthetic, he was using the subject-predicate definition, as his argument shows. But when we define an analytic proposition as one which can be deduced from logic alone, then "7 + 5 = 12" is analytic. On the other hand, the proposition that the sum of the angles of a triangle is two right angles is synthetic. We must ask ourselves, therefore: What is the common quality of the propositions which can be deduced from the premisses of logic? The answer to this question given by Wittgenstein in his Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus seems to me the right one. Propositions which form part of logic, or can be proved by lope, are all