“Philosophy, if it cannot answer so many questions as we could wish, has at least the power of asking questions which increase the interest of the world, and show the strangeness and wonder lying just below the surface even in the commonest things of daily life.”— Bertrand Russell, The Problems of Philosophy, p. 24-25
What is most compelling about Bertrand Russell's approach (particularly for philosophical newcomers) is the ease with which he presents some of the most complex aspects of being. For the most part, he strays from jargon unless he has concisely defined the term he is using, something of great credit to the analytic tradition. He focuses on making his arguments coherent and precise, granting necessary accessibility to audiences who are not as well-versed in philosophical study. Philosophy, to Russell, follows the same procedure as geometry; it starts with self-evident axioms, then proceeds towards new theorems arrived at through logical reasoning.
In The Problems of Philosophy, Russell applies the analytic approach to epistemological and metaphilosophical questions. What are the qualities of matter, and how do we interact with them? Do we see the world as it really is? What is knowledge, and on what grounds can it be established? How does philosophical inquiry address these questions, and what implications does philosophy have for how human beings should live their lives? While Russell does not provide (or intend to provide) exhaustive answers to these questions, his carefully crafted perspectives provide a clear groundwork for discussion that opens up the philosophical field to a curious eye.
He begins his inquiry by drawing a contrast between the physical objects which exist in the world and the immediate sensations, or sense-data, that determine how we see them. The physical object, for example, could be a table, and the sense-data through which we experience the table could be its brown color, its rough texture, or its rectangular shape. Do our sense-data show us the object as it objectively is in a way that can be distinguished from our perceptions? Not necessarily. Russell writes,
“Although I believe that the table is 'really' of the same colour all over, the parts that reflect the light look much brighter than the other parts… if I move, the parts that reflect the light will be different, so that the apparent distribution of colours on the table will change. It follows that if several people are looking at the table at the same moment, no two of them will see exactly the same distribution of colours, because no two can see it from exactly the same point of view” (11-12).
This shows that while sense-data may make up our sensations from a certain perspective in regards to physical objects, they do not establish anything certain about the object in-itself. We perceive the table subjectively, but are there any means through which we perceive it objectively?
While we can't be absolutely certain of what an object is separate from our sense-data, we can at least know, due to our sense data, that some sort of interactive sensation between ourselves and the object is taking place. I may not know whether the table is really “brown,” but I know that through my sight I am experiencing something which I call the color brown. Thus, we can at least establish certain parameters about interactions between object and subject. That also presents a possibility to infer some of the relational quality of physical objects to each other. Russell reasons,
While we can't be absolutely certain of what an object is separate from our sense-data, we can at least know, due to our sense data, that some sort of interactive sensation between ourselves and the object is taking place. I may not know whether the table is really “brown,” but I know that through my sight I am experiencing something which I call the color brown. Thus, we can at least establish certain parameters about interactions between object and subject. That also presents a possibility to infer some of the relational quality of physical objects to each other. Russell reasons,
“If we see on a road one house nearer to us than another, our other senses will bear out the view that it is nearer; for example, it will be reached sooner if we walk along the road… thus everything points to a spatial relation between the houses corresponding to the relation between the sense-data which we see when we look at the houses. Thus we may assume that there is a physical space in which physical objects have spatial relations corresponding to those which the corresponding sense-data have in our private spaces” (48-49).
Of course, all of this rests upon the assumption that there actually is a physical plane independent of our senses. Russell addresses critics of that theory by pointing out that our belief in an outside source of inputs corresponding to our own sense outputs is a long-standing implicit assumption. Although he concedes that there is no way for him to prove it irrefutably, there is no logical reason to abandon it given that everything we experience indicates its truth and nothing seems to contradict it.
Russell is not blind to the shakiness of that foundation, but he does not throw out his findings because of that. Knowledge to Russell does not necessitate infallibility, merely probable certainty which is (for the moment) beyond reasonable doubt. For example, I know that I am awake at this moment. How do I know this? I can move, speak, and think freely. There are no sudden terrors or fantastical events. I do not feel as if I am dreaming. Given all of this, I have no reason to doubt or deny my consciousness. Why should I think that I am in a dream if there is no way for this claim to be proven?
To give further backing to his points, Russell considers the historical debate between the British empiricists and continental rationalists. He essentially takes a middle ground in their conflict, arguing that the former were right in saying that our conceptions come from experience, while the latter correctly believed that certain a priori universals govern how we relate different phenomena. While he accepts the existence of a priori knowledge, Russell does not believe it is not necessarily present at birth, as some philosophers argued. It is something that develops over time and through experience. For example, I unconsciously develop my conception of "whiteness" by seeing the color white. Through repeated experience, that conception becomes further and further ingrained in us, until it assumes a universal self-evidence which is implicitly known in any sense-datum perception, a priori. In our everyday experience, we are constantly acquainted with (or immediately experiencing) both our sense-data and the universals which comprise and interact with them. Through this combination, we can obtain knowledge by description, which recollects experiences we have been acquainted with in the past. While this sort of recollective knowledge may seem reliable to us, the feeling of our experience becomes less self-evident over time, as memory doesn't necessarily involve immediate acquaintance.
In their infinite complexity, all of the problems touched on above (and thousands more!) ultimately define the true beauty of philosophy, why it is such a rewarding art despite the unending elusiveness of definitive answers. In the final chapter of his book, Russell writes,
Russell is not blind to the shakiness of that foundation, but he does not throw out his findings because of that. Knowledge to Russell does not necessitate infallibility, merely probable certainty which is (for the moment) beyond reasonable doubt. For example, I know that I am awake at this moment. How do I know this? I can move, speak, and think freely. There are no sudden terrors or fantastical events. I do not feel as if I am dreaming. Given all of this, I have no reason to doubt or deny my consciousness. Why should I think that I am in a dream if there is no way for this claim to be proven?
To give further backing to his points, Russell considers the historical debate between the British empiricists and continental rationalists. He essentially takes a middle ground in their conflict, arguing that the former were right in saying that our conceptions come from experience, while the latter correctly believed that certain a priori universals govern how we relate different phenomena. While he accepts the existence of a priori knowledge, Russell does not believe it is not necessarily present at birth, as some philosophers argued. It is something that develops over time and through experience. For example, I unconsciously develop my conception of "whiteness" by seeing the color white. Through repeated experience, that conception becomes further and further ingrained in us, until it assumes a universal self-evidence which is implicitly known in any sense-datum perception, a priori. In our everyday experience, we are constantly acquainted with (or immediately experiencing) both our sense-data and the universals which comprise and interact with them. Through this combination, we can obtain knowledge by description, which recollects experiences we have been acquainted with in the past. While this sort of recollective knowledge may seem reliable to us, the feeling of our experience becomes less self-evident over time, as memory doesn't necessarily involve immediate acquaintance.
In their infinite complexity, all of the problems touched on above (and thousands more!) ultimately define the true beauty of philosophy, why it is such a rewarding art despite the unending elusiveness of definitive answers. In the final chapter of his book, Russell writes,
“Philosophy is to be studied, not for the sake of any definite answers to its questions...but rather for the sake of the questions themselves; because these questions enlarge our conception of what is possible, enrich our intellectual imagination, and diminish the dogmatic assurance which closes the mind against speculation; but above all because, through the greatness of the universe which philosophy contemplates, the mind also is rendered great, and becomes capable of that union with the universe which constitutes its highest good” (249-250).
Russell’s conclusion, so wonderfully vibrant and exciting, is more than enough to demonstrate his greatest quality as a philosopher, the one that is absolutely necessary for anyone who wishes to commit themselves to that profession: wonder. An overflowing desire to acquaint ourselves with the world, know its plunging depths and highest peaks.
References
Russell, Bertrand. Problems of Philosophy. Home University Library of Modern Knowledge 35. Henry
Holt and Company. Accessed May 10, 2020.
https://ia802804.us.archive.org/5/items/problemsofphilo00russuoft/problemsofphilo00russuoft.pdf.
