ENL 110B: "Why Read Literature: Literature, Science and the Problem of Subjectivity"

Jolene Brown

Dr. T. Morton

ENL 110B

30 July 2009

Why Read Literature:

Literature, Science and the Problem of Subjectivity

Those who cannot empirically measure the importance or value of literature have often questioned the value of it beyond basic storytelling or perhaps historical motivations or moral growth. It does seem counter-intuitive for a person to put a numerical value on the importance of literature in society, after all, the subjectivity that is implied by the idea of enjoyment is interpreted as a strict form of subjectivity, not reconciled to a single value that is the same to each person equally. Examples of this sort of subjectivity are found everyday in conversations about literature: people who will argue that one book is better than another for various reasons or an author is better than another because emphasis of certain stylistic qualities that change importance from person to person. It does seem absurd that the author would intend or even expect his text to have a "universal" interpretation for all readers. With the myriad of personalities in the world and the enormous potential for readership, the possibility of even two people identifying, interpreting and mentally constructing the text in an identical fashion is a statistical fantasy. It is, of course, up for argument that one can even distinguish intent of the author as an identifiable construct, or even that the ideas of the audience can be articulated in such a way to make them available for side by side comparison. It must be asked then, is there a certain particular, universal reason to read literature?

Superficially it would seem that science does not suffer the ambiguity of subjectivity as literature does. Instead, science maintains an attitude of ‘objectivity,’ expecting the same from all other studies. Biology, physics, and chemistry have descended upon the other disciplines as a merciless predator tearing away at the flesh of their victims with methodical scientific evidence, undermining all other superiority with the intended purpose of explaining and defining the world “objectively.” What the humanities, especially, have left are the few remnants of those things not yet explainable by science. Literature, which is at best an abstraction of reality, cannot compare to science with its powers of explanation, but literature has a strength that the sciences do not: literature can rule the realm of the imaginary because it is not limited by the numbers, empirical measurements and scientific method that bars science from exploring those things inside the realm of the mind. The measurements that science demands are exactly those things that literature can operate either with or without, so the flexibility of literature is exemplified in its flexibility of not demanding an empirical construct.

Of course it seems that literature has a certain inherent subjectivity in the way it is constructed that is eliminated in science by the use of methods and standards of measurements. For example, literature is often told from the perspective of one or two characters, which may or may not be identifiable with the audience for which the piece is written. This identification (or lack of) on the part of the audience seems to justify subjective interpretation: if each reader, ideal or otherwise, can cultivate their own an identity that either counters or cooperates with the identity of the character of the literature then is it hard to believe that the literature is creating an individual (subjective) experience for each member of its audience? Surely the author does not create his text with the intent that each reader should feel exactly the same way about the characters or the events. However, science may be expecting too much in their objectivity and find itself victim to the same kinds of subjective problems. Before any scientist can set out to measure his work he, must first establish a basis of measurement be it the meter, the ounce, the gram, another construct of comparison. Once he establishes a method for measurement accurate enough for his purpose, he must convince others of the accuracy and relevance of his measurement. This process, though mostly unconsidered by the scientific community, might be a cause for concern only because the implication may be that measurement itself is based on completely arbitrary objects or lengths.

It must be wondered how this gap between science and literature might be reconciled or if it can be at all. The Formalists took a step to create a “science of literature that would be both independent and factual” (Eichenbaum 1062). The Formalists subscribed to the idea that science maintained a conviction for truth, and would not compromise itself to falling short of finding the truth: “science lives not by settling on truth, but by overcoming error” (1062). At first glance it seems that the Formalists may have found the olive branch to science; by adopting its structure and formulating an approach that understood all literature through the same basic “method” there might finally be some way of organizing the value of literature based on a set standard of criteria. Critics would be able to ask the same questions of each piece and attempt to find the answers given, and there might be a direct connection between literature and science.

Can Formalism account for the broad spectrum of forms that are interwoven into so many literatures? Mikhail Bakhtin argues for the artistic formulation of the novel as both an aesthetic form and as a versatile use of language that exceeds poetry in its scope. The novel incorporates so many stylistic functions that it cannot be captured by only one set standard or subscribe to the same expectations of poetry.

The novel as a whole is a phenomenon multiform in style and variform in speech and voice. In it the investigator is confronted with several heterogeneous stylistic unities, often located on different linguistic levels and subject to different stylistic controls...These heterogeneous stylistic unities, upon entering the novel, combine to form a structured artistic system, and are subordinated to the higher stylistic unity of the work as a whole, a unity that cannot be identified with any single one of the unities subordinated to it. (1191-1192)

Formalism, because of its limited approach, cannot account for the multi-form structure of a work that is as complex as the novel, where there is more to the from than an algorithm or equation that dictates the placement of words in a kind of universal form.

Where might one turn to reconcile the ties between science and literature? Communication is necessary in both disciplines without which even the most basic of ideas cannot be constructed for consideration among peers or the public. The next place to look might be found within the one thing that both disciplines have in common: language.

At any given moment of its evolution, language is stratified not only into linguistic dialects in the strict sense of the word…but also…into languages that are socio-ideological: languages of social groups, “professional” and “genetic” languages, languages of generations and so forth. (Bakhtin 1199)

There are, of course, different kinds of languages for different disciplines, made clear when one directly compares the words and styles used by science and literature when communicating within the disciplines. However, the fundamental elements of language are present, the syntax and grammar rules remain mostly intact, and communication can be maintained between two different people of two very different disciplines with mostly ease and only little explanation of terms. The reconciliation then, must take place within the structure of language itself and the recognition of the heteroglossia that permeates the language throughout, lending itself to constant comparisons and contrasts for the sake of importance or social relevance.

Though taking a scientific approach to literature does not seem effective in its empirical study of literature, at least in the way it has been explored by the Formalists, one might be inclined to wonder what would happen if science was explored through literature. Science fiction explores the ideas of science in great depth, but another way to look at science ‘literarily’ might be to take scientific theories and explore them not only as if they were fiction, but postulate them as fiction, removing entirely any links to the reality which they try to explain, and instead imagine the possibilities of a world where these empirical facts were deemed meaningless or unimportant. Given the arbitrary nature of measurement, as described above, it is not much of a stretch to imagine the shortcomings of science in such a way to render the discipline helpless in the realm of the imaginary. Literature, on the other hand, can operate both in the realm of science, as a tool for exploring hypothetical scenarios, and in the realm of the imaginary, by creating worlds where the laws of science are not only inapplicable but deemed completely useless or even unnecessary.

For example, in science the concept of time is an important tool of measurement to assist in the accuracy of experimentation and longevity of scientific measurement. Time is not questioned in science except to establish a ground for comparison between experiments, and it is not doubted that time is an influence on the outcome of experimentation. Literature, in the realm of science, is also subject to time—the time of the reader to sit and physically read the text—which constitutes participation in a sort of science experiment by timing the point at which a subject begins reading and finishes reading a text. Once the same experiment is moved into the realm of literature, the same rules do not necessarily apply: within the text what is postulated as truth is what is true, regardless of the experience of the reader. If an author writes, for instance, that there exists no concept of time within the frame of the novel, then it does not matter how much science attempts to interfere with the experience of the words on the page, the literature is impenetrable to the effects, and science is helpless to influence the experience of the reader since science cannot operate in the imaginary, enforcing absolute objectivity and adherence to its rules.

Why read literature? Literature is an opportunity to cultivate ideas in a realm free from the constraints of not only science, but also of subjectivity. Though it feels like a safe argument to say that all literature is subjective, due to the nature of language, without any inherent qualities, it can be argued that the perceived subjectivity is only a product of disciplines—like science—enforcing rules and methods on the world in an attempt to make sense of reality according to their own standards. The rules are an illusion to bring sense to an otherwise unpredictable world. Even the rules of language fall victim to the incessant rules and regulations of science, but they are only constructs of the human mind. These constructs allow us to see patterns, but they also enforce the rule of subjectivity—an interpretation that can only be conceived of within the constructs of the rules of both science and literature. Literature, however, offers more freedom for ideas, allowing the mind free reign and ultimately an escape of the confines of law and rules, which may be seen as a great reason to find one lost in a good piece of literature.

Works Cited

Bakhtin, Mikhail. From Discourse in the Novel. The Norton Anthology of Theory and Criticism. First Edition. Editors: Leitch, Vincent B., et. al. W.W. Norton & Company, New York and London, 2001. Pp. 1190-1220.

Eichenbaum, Boris. From The Theory of the “Formal Method”. The Norton Anthology of Theory and Criticism. First Edition. Editors: Leitch, Vincent B., et. al. W.W. Norton & Company, New York and London, 2001. Pp. 1062-1087.

ENL 111: "The Power of Women in Malory's Arthurian Works"

Jolene P. Brown

Dr. K. Smith

ENL 111

8 June 2009

The Power of Women in Malory’s Arthurian Works

The women of King Arthur’s world have two important attributes in the work of Malory. It is the women in the stories who establish gender roles between a knight and a lady or create ambiguous gender roles, raising questions about the significance of masculinity and femininity. As well as creating gender distinctions, a lady is often the key factor in determining the destiny of the knights and a knight’s relationship to a woman can be a determining factor is his success or failure in the sphere of the court. It is in this way that women have control over the masculine realm around them, and though their role is limited and very subtle, it is important to the overall continuum of Arthur’s court and his knights. The combination of establishing the gender role and determining the success or failure of a knight makes the women of Arthur’s world powerful creatures, which may explain the prevalence of mystical and magical qualities associated with the female realm, since the power that women wield is, at times, so subtle it is hardly recognized as power at all.

In Malory’s text, the women of King Arthur’s court do not often have a voice unto themselves. Instead of speaking, women use objects and attributes to communicate to each other and to knights in ways that are not altogether obvious. In her essay “Female Heroes, Heroines, and Counter-Heroes,” Maureen Fries argues that Arthurian women play one, and rarely more, of her three defined roles in connection to their femininity: a female hero, a heroine, or a counter-hero. However, she goes on to say:

All of these women, even the comparatively powerful counter-heroes, are limited by their inability to assume such traditional male roles as the warrior one of physical combat…female heroes and counter-heroes must use guile, both verbal and magical…As for heroines, they have only their beauty, a chancy weapon at best. (72)

Though it is true that women are limited to a certain numbers of tools at their disposal for moving up the social ladder they make effective use of what they have to further their cause. By making use of beauty, magical charms, spells, and companionship with other women, the ladies of the court are able to etch out an existence that, more often than not, works to their favor.

The goal of most Arthurian women is marriage and many of the women identify their future partners quickly by judging a knight according to his outward appearance, chivalrous character and family affiliations. Winning those partners, however, tends to be a harder feat than just the identification as there are often competitions among ladies for the best of the knights. The most obvious example of this is found in the overwhelming attraction to Lancelot and the lengths to which women go to seduce him for their own. Lancelot is pursued by four queens, who demand he choose one of them as his paramour (Malory p. 152); he is tricked into siring Galahad by Eleyne who drugs him (480); he is nursed back to health then given an ultimatum by another Elaine, who commits suicide at his refusal to be her husband or allow her to be his paramour (638). Each of these women uses their best skills in an attempt to woo or otherwise gain the favor of sir Lancelot. Despite their overall failures, their attempts should not be discounted as ineffective or frivolous. The power that each wields is strong, failing only because their choice of knight to enact it upon is Lancelot, the greatest knight of all. It can be argued that their failure in this capacity speaks more to the power of Lancelot than it does to lack of talent or power on the part of these very motivated queens and maidens.

Arthurian women play a vital role in the unfolding of Malory’s story despite their lack of voice and overall dismissal to the edges of the plot. There are several instances where women dictate not only the direction of the story, but also foresee and, indeed, enforce the outcome of the story. Through their use of their beauty, magic, magical items, feminine charms or even emotional appeals and ultimatums, women are able to manipulate the men around them to perform tasks that range from the menial to heroic. Even weapons, which are almost exclusively items that are identified with masculinity, are almost always associated with a woman through ownership or access, as discussed by Geraldine Heng:

Perhaps the most enigmatic and dangerous items of this material trove are swords, the instruments on which all masculine accomplishment must turn, and therefore pivotal to conceptions of male identity and personal force. These are so strongly associated with the feminine sources and ownership as sometimes to be only temporarily accessible to men. (98)

Women, though they do not wield the weapons, still have the power to dictate who will receive the weapons. For example, Excalibur belongs to the Lady of the Lake who claims ownership of it when Arthur wants it for his own: “’Sir Arthur,’ seyde the damsel, ‘that swerde ys myne, and if ye woll gyff me a gyffte whan I aske hit you, ye shall have hit” (Malory 35). The sword is hers, and it is hers to barter with in order to ask a favor—a gift—of Arthur at a later date. If it were not hers to trade, it could be argued, she would probably not be so quick to promise it away.

As the most obvious of the female figures in the tales of Arthur, Guinevere’s virtue lies in her beauty, as she holds the two most powerful men in the kingdom under the power of her beauty: Arthur, the king of England, and Lancelot, the greatest knight of the king’s court. Her beauty seems to have a magical element to it as a woman points out to Lancelot during one of his many adventures that “hit is noysed that ye love quene Guenyvere, and that she hath ordeyned by enchauntemente that ye shall never love none other but hir, nothing none other damesell ne lady shall rejoice you” (160 40-42). Though there is not mention of Guinevere practicing any kind of magical or enchanted arts, the implication speaks clearly of the power of her beauty and how it might affect both her husband and lover. Her use of her power seems to be limited to attaining a high station in life through her marriage to a king and maintaining that station through the work of her lover, Lancelot. Her beauty secures her queen-ship as Arthur tells Merlin he wishes to marry her because she “is the moste valyaunte and fayryst that I know lyvyng, or yet that ever I coude fynde” (59). Arthur marries her despite the warnings given to him by Merlin, arguably Arthur’s most trusted advisor, and enters the marriage with the knowledge that she and Lancelot are determined to be in love with one another. Though it is Arthur’s decision to follow through with this marriage despite the warnings and the knowledge of his wife’s eventual betrayal, it might also be seen as power that Guinevere has in her beauty. The reader is not told Guinevere’s reaction to being the object of the king’s affections, but it is not hard to imagine her being pleased at the prospect of marrying the powerful king of England, especially given that “Arranged marriages were the norm among the aristocracy and gentry in Malory’s day…Guinevere probably did not have to be coerced into marrying Arthur. He was a young king, renowned for his prowess and worship, and she might reasonably expect to grow to love him in time” (Kennedy 15).

Lancelot is also subject to Guinevere’s beauty, as it is he who maintains her position in the court. It is understood that no other knight can defeat Lancelot because he is the greatest knight in the world, and it is Lancelot who fights for Guinevere in place of Arthur on at least one occasion. For instance, when Lancelot is away, suffering Guinevere’s wrath, she has a dinner for the Knights of the Round Table, to show her appreciation for all of them. Unfortunately, there is an assassination plot on Gawain, and when it goes wrong, killing another knight, it is Guinevere who is blamed since she is the one who planned the dinner. Though the circumstances of the blame are unusual, and signal an environment of mistrust among the knightly brethren, what is more alarming is the mistrust directed at the wife of the king. Arthur cannot help her for his political ties as king, and even he suggests that Lancelot should be the one to defend her honor. Despite their earlier argument, and Guinevere’s seemingly characteristic unhappiness with him, Lancelot returns to defend her, and does so successfully. Lancelot is so in love with Guinevere, the woman he cannot have, that he passes up the opportunity to marry or otherwise secure the love of other eligible and beautiful women, such as the lady Elaine the Fair Maid of Astolat who kills herself for his love. Guinevere asks Lancelot why he did not show Elaine more mercy and his reply is succinct: “she wolde none other ways be answered but that she wolde be my wyff other ellis my paramour, and of thes two I wolde not graunte her…I love nat to be contrayned to love, for love muste only aryse of the harte self, and nat by none constraynte” (641). Lancelot is controlled by Guinevere’s beauty, at least to some extent, to go to such great lengths, even restoring her position as queen when their affair is alleged by Aggravayne and Mordred during the final chapter of Malory’s work.

Morgan le Fay is one of the more complex female roles in the Arthurian universe since, depending on the text, is sibling, friend, enemy, sorceress, enabler and disabler to Arthur. In Malory’s text she is cast in the role of villain, and her power obviously lies in the realm of magic and enchantment, which she wields over men to gain power over them. She is not the only woman who uses magic to her advantage, for the Lady of the Lake, Nyneve also does and traps Merlin who is trying to woo her. But there are differences in the way each woman uses her abilities:

If Morgan and Nyneve may be said to differ…it is a difference of intensity, rather than of kind. Nyneve…is more impersonal in her relations with the Arthurian world, less interested in its quotidian operations. Morgan…is intensely interested in the Arthurian ethos as a stage for her powers, and the disruptions she manufactures…point to a pleasure in their competitive display. (Heng 106)

Morgan takes pleasure in the control of men, and indeed does so at every opportunity she gets. She is one of the queens to pursues Lancelot to be his paramour (152), shortly after taking Accolon as a lover and using him to kill Arthur while she killed her own husband, only be stopped by her son, Uwayne (90 35-41). The Lady of the Lake, at least from the perspective of Arthur and his court, seems a more subtle, helpful influence on the activities of the court, while Morgan continues her disruptions throughout the story.

Morgan also deprives Arthur of the precious scabbard of Excalibur, which is supposed to keep him from ever losing blood (Malory 36). She steals into this chamber intending to steal the sword, but because the sword is “naked” in the hands of Arthur, she decided to take the scabbard instead, rather than risk waking him:

And she wente streyte unto his chamber…When the kynge awoke and myssid his scawberde, he was wroth, and so he asked who has bene there, and they sayde his sister, quene Morgan le Fay, had bene there and had put the scawberde undir hir mantel and is gone…’Sir,’ seyde they all, ‘we durst nat disobey your sistyrs commaundemente.’ (91)

The power she has over men is made evident in this passage for “we durste disobey,” which could be attributed to both her magic and to her place in the king’s family as his sister. Morgan is in control of Arthur’s fate at this point in the story, as she takes the scabbard and deprives him of his ability to spend an eternity on the English throne. Morgan, unlike Arthur, realizes the importance of the scabbard and it should be noticed that the power of Excalibur lies “not in blade but in the scabbard or sheath (Lat. vagina)” (Heng 98) and in depriving Arthur of his scabbard she is depriving him of an important connection and balance to the feminine world. This act could be interpreted as the beginning of the end with his wife, as his sword no longer has its sheath, he is also meant to lose the sheath to his own sword.

The power of women in the Arthurian world is not limited to that of Guinevere and Morgan. Many of the women in Arthur’s kingdom manage to control and manipulate their surroundings to their own benefit and ends. There are several examples of this in the story of Balin, the Knight with Two Swords. At the beginning of the story a damsel enters Arthur’s court in search of a great knight who can pull her sword out of her sheath. It is only evident later, through the help of Merlin, that the woman has asked the ladies of Avalon to help her have revenge on her brother by having part in the death of a great knight’s brother by use of that sword she is asking knights to pull out of the sheath. When Balin is successful in pulling the sword and refuses to give it back, even after the damsel’s request, she threatens him saying “ye ar nat wyse to kepe the swerde fro me, for ye shall sle with that swerde the beste frende that ye have and the man that ye moste love In the worlde, and that swerde shall be youre destruccion” (Malory 39-40). Through the use of these words and by this damsel seeking out the help of magical women to further her destructive cause, the damsel is creating her own destiny. It may not be the most chivalrous life, being that her mission is to bring destruction and revenge, and hers is certainly not an honorable cause, but she, unlike some of the other women of the court, is empowered to seek out what she feels is important.

Other women are given power by the author, since it is the death of these particular women that determine the fates of the knights who are involved. Again, from the story of Balin, the Lady of Sir Launceor kills herself upon her knight’s sword upon discovering his death at the hands of Balin, to which Merlin warns Balin how her death will affect the course of his adventure:

…because of the dethe of that lady [Launceor’s lady] thou shalt stryke a stroke moste dolorous that every man stroke, excepte the stroke of oure Lorde Jesu Cryste…and thorow that stroke three kyngdomys shall be brought into grete poverte, miseri and wrecchednesse twelve yere. And the knight shall nat be hole of that wounde many yerys. (45)

Still another example of a woman’s power after her death is found in the story of Torre and Pellinor, where Gawain is punished for the lack of mercy he shows toward another knight, yet instead of killing the knight: “Ryght so com hys lady oute of a chamber and felle over hym, and so he smote of hir hede by myssefortune” (66). The gruesome punishment that Gawain is forced to endure not only shows the extent to which Gawain suffers the torment of his lack of mercy, but also forces him to change the way he approaches both knights and women in the battle field since “sir Gawayne sworne upon the four Evaungelystis that he sholde never be ayenste lady ne jantillwoman but if he fight for a lady and hys adversary fyghtith for another” (67). Even after death women seem to have a power to change the fortune of knights, whether it be for better or for worse, and sometimes both.

While it is true that women have a limited role compared to the vast scope of the chivalric brotherhood, battlefield and honor code of the masculine realm of which they are a part of they do have significant powers in those realms they do control. Their realm is that of love, and a woman who can not only identify her lover, but also capture him and make him her knight, her paramour or her husband has truly mastered her womanhood. In taking advantage of what talents and skills they have, women are able to create for themselves a small part of their world that they can control. Like their control in the realm of love, as argued by Geraldine Heng,

…knightly obedience to and cooperation with the feminine supply effective means for actualizations of feminine will, creating an agency by which women may be active in the world. Knightly actions, where they are an extension of feminine will, are, in this sense, transparent, and have been describes as…the exploits of ladies through the medium of knights. (102)

It is through the interactions with the masculine and, ultimately, forging ties with the masculine realm that women are given power beyond that which is given them by their gender. Those women who cannot connect with the masculine realm, such as those women who learn magic, or those to betray the masculine realm, still manage to maintain a power unique to their gender. Men, on the other hand, must maintain a connection to the feminine in order to reach their full potential within their gender, be it through love, chivalry, or sex. Without the balance on the masculine side, the man falls victim to women and must suffer the wrath of those women who can control the realm that he is not only separate from, but has limited understanding of.

Works Cited

Fries, Maureen. "Female Heroes, Heroines, and Counter-Heroes: Images of Women in Arthurian Tradition." Arthurian Women: A Casebook. Ed. Thelma S. (ed and introd). Fenster. New York, NY: Garland, lxxvii, 1996. 59-73.

Heng, Geraldine. "Enchanted Ground: The Feminine Subtext in Malory." Arthurian Women: A Casebook. Ed. Thelma S. (ed and introd ). Fenster. New York, NY: Garland, lxxvii, 1996. 97-113.

Kennedy, Beverly. "Malory's Guenevere: A 'Trew Lover'." On Arthurian Women: Essays in Memory of Maureen Fries. Ed. Bonnie (ed and foreword) Wheeler and Fiona (ed and foreword) Tolhurst. Dallas, TX: Scriptorium, xiii, 2001. 11-34.

Malory, Sir Thomas. Complete Works of Malory. Ed. Eugene Vinaver. 2^nd ed. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1971.

PHI 102: "Indexical Contextualism as a Solution to Dretske's 'Zoo Problem'"

Indexical Contextualism as a Solution to Dretske’s “Zoo Problem”

Epistemological contexualists argue that the variation of standards in knowledge is what guides an attributor to assign to a subject knowledge or ignorance. One example of this kind of variation in standards is Dretske’s “zoo case,” or an alternative case presented in class by Dr. Mattey of the people in different situations waiting in the airport for a flight. The similarity between both of these cases is that a subject is attributed knowledge in one context, and ignorance in another, with no changes in the situation of the subject, but changes in the context of the attributor. This unusual occurrence creates a lack of argument closure that undermines the original assessment of the attributor leading to a reassessment on the part of the attributor. This lack of closure lends itself to a solution found within indexical contextualism in that it is the context of attributor that confirms the knowledge or ignorance of the subject.

An example of this problem can be formed through a modification of a scenario given by Dr. G.J. Mattey early in the fall 2008 quarter in his epistemology course (PHI 102). In one discussion the question was raised as to whether or not one knows if an old car is a genuine antique, or if it is a car built from a kit to look like an antique, and, he argued, if one has not the training to identify the true antique cars from the new kit cars, then one may not say they “know.” To retool this scenario for the purpose of contextualism, suppose there is a museum of antiquated cars, and subject S is looking at one of the cars on display, and he reads a sign that says the car was built in the year 1945. An attributor A is looking on when S tells A that S knows that the car was built in 1945. S acquired this information, he tells A, by reading the sign on the wall next to the car stating that the car was built in 1945. A has evidence that S knows that p such that the sign was supplied by a reputable source (a museum), and S believes that the car was built during 1945 from some basic understanding of what cars built in that era look like. This casual scenario, context 1 at time 1 (C1 at T1), allows A to draw with some confidence the conclusion that S does, in fact, know that p (the car was built in 1945). This argument can be written:

A attributes knowledge to S at T1 in context C1, given the casual nature of this scenario.

To change the scenario such that the attributor A has a more pressing situation to consider may change the attribution for knowledge to ignorance on the part of subject S. Perhaps a camera crew walks over to A after S claims knowledge and tells him that if S is correct in his knowledge that the car was built in 1945, then A will win a million dollar prize. S is not told about this camera crew, and has no idea there is a contest going on in the museum. In this way, S’s context has not changed: he still believes that the car was built in 1945, and has based this belief on the sign posted in the museum. A’s context has changed with this information and A might then be even more willing to attribute knowledge to S in this scenario given his enthusiasm for winning a substantial prize. A is then told by the camera crew that several of the cars in the museum have been replaced with forgeries of antique cars built from kits, nearly indistinguishable from the antique cars they represent and none of the forgeries were built in 1945. A’s context has changed yet again and A must then decide if he is going to attribute knowledge or ignorance to subject S, and based on his correct choice will be awarded the prize money. A, in this less casual context, may be less likely to attribute knowledge to S simply based on the information that A has that some of the cars in the museum he now knows to be forgeries. Thus, we have the following propositions:

1. A at C1 believes that S knows at C1 (at T1) that the car in question was built in 1945.
2. A at C2 believes that S does not know in C2 that the car in question was not built in a year other than 1945.
3. A at C2 believes that S does not know in C2 that the car in question was built in the year 1945.

Given this change in circumstances, or context, it would seem that A has now the potential to change his original attribution of knowledge to ignorance, and would be justified in doing so, with the intention of winning the prize. Proposition one was correct in the context in which A attributed knowledge to S because he did not have evidence otherwise to attribute ignorance instead. In light of new evidence, A was then justified to attribute ignorance instead of knowledge to S, if he doubts S’s ability to distinguish antique cars from kit cars. This change in context leading to a new attribution is what causes problems in epistemology, which could be solved through indexical contextualism.

The indexical contextualist would argue that the word ‘knows’ is indexical, that is, the word ‘knows’ in one context (C1) is being used in a different way than in another context (C2). This seems to be a good solution to this problem of contextual difference that we see in this problem. If one views the word ‘knows’ as indexical then it makes sense that the word will mean one thing in one context and another thing in another context. As Steven Luper, from the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, writes:

According to contexualists, whether it is correct for a judge to attribute knowledge to someone depends on that judge’s context, and the standards of knowledge differ from context to context…What passes for knowledge in ordinary contexts does not qualify for knowledge in contexts where heightened criteria apply (Luper).

It is A’s change in context, in the form of being monetarily inclined to make the correct decision in attributing knowledge or ignorance to subject S, that creates a problem with closure in the argument of whether or not S can be attributed knowledge. Contextualism can salvage closure by allowing the use of the word knows to change from context to context. Returning to our earlier problem, A was not wrong in C1, when he did not have anything at stake by attributing knowledge to S, despite his later evidence stating that some of the cars in the museum were forgeries. Since A did not have that evidence at the time he made the utterance, then at the time he made the utterance his attribution of knowledge was correct.

One solution that seems to work well in cases such as these is Stewart Cohen’s Indexical Contextualism. Cohen’s attempt to solve this problem holds that closure should be kept intact. To quote Mattey’s lecture notes: “Indexicality is certainly one way to generate sentences which express propositions which vary with the context of assertions,” and Mattey goes on to say “one way of expressing the indexical view is to think of ‘knows’ as an elliptical verb that contains a hidden parameter” (2008). For example Cohen argues that the word knows works like other indexical words in the language, for example the word “I.” When the sentence “I am hungry” is uttered by a person, the utterance at the moment it is uttered is true for the person making the utterance (as long as the person is making the utterance in sound mind, and not because the person is suffering from a mental condition or some other mental disturbance). This flexibility allows for the argument to draw closure from the propositions within the argument being evaluated at the same context, and drawing conclusions of knowledge from within those contexts. Mattey discusses how Cohen’s indexical contextualism attempts to salvage closure within his Philosophy 102 web notes:

Cohen holds that closure can be saved by allowing that the sense of ‘knows’ changes from context to context. Within the same context, closure holds, but when the context on the premise and the conclusion operate with a different sense of ‘know’ due to shifting contexts of attribution, there is no failure of closure (2008).

It is important to note the consistency being attained by looking at the antecedents and consequents of an argument in light of the same context, as pointed out in the above quotation. Take, for example, our case earlier, of the attributor and the subject in the car museum. It would be unlikely that any reasonable person would agree that A was incorrect at the time T1 in attributing knowledge to subject S. The evidence that was available to both the subject and to the attributor when he made the attribution of knowledge seemed, at that time and in that context, sufficient enough to warrant the attribution that S had knowledge of the car being built in 1945. It was only after the introduction of new relevant evidence that A’s knowledge attribution is then doubted, and A becomes unlikely to attribute knowledge to S, and even then would only be doing so under the context of a higher-stake situation in his favor (namely, monetary gain).

Based on this and other examples there does not seem to be a “fixed” standard of knowledge. Instead, knowledge is something that is determined by context, and we can accomplish this while still keeping closure intact through Cohen’s explanation of the indexical way that the word ‘knows’ works. Without a fixed standard of knowledge there is a flexibility in the truth and falsehood of sentences, as they are uttered by the subject and the attributor, and the context in which the sentence is uttered.

Works Cited

Luper, Steven, "The Epistemic Closure Principle", The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Winter 2008 Edition), Edward N. Zalta (ed.), forthcoming URL = .

Mattey, G.J., “Contemporary Epistemology III: Language.” Version 1.1, November 9, 2008.