Social Logic

Social epistemology is a field of philosophy that studies knowledge not as it is held by individuals, but as it is shared in communities. Once we consider a social perspective, questions about knowledge arise that weren’t salient for individuals. How do we come to know things from others? How can we trust others to have the right kind of justification for a belief to count as knowledge? Is group knowledge always reducible to individual knowledge? Or is it possible for new knowledge to emerge once individuals get together and pool their individual knowledge?

Social epistemology forces us to look at praxis, where theory and practice meet. In praxis, a question that quickly becomes important is when we can rely on testimony. In the community, we often have to rely on the knowledge of others. I know that right after I was born, I looked up to my mother with big brown curious eyes. How do I know that? Because my mother told me, and I fully trust her testimony. But I don’t trust the testimony of the Hill couple, a famous case of alien abduction that I go over in detail in *Logic in the Wild*. I trust the sincerity in their reports of the events, but that they believe it was an alien abduction that best explains the weird course of events they experienced doesn’t make me believe in their version of the story, let alone grant me knowledge of it.

Now, is there a corresponding way to think about logic at the social level? What might social logic look like? What happens to coherence when we pool individuals’ perspectives? One thing obvious is that all individuals could have coherent stories, but theories that clash when they are put together. How are we to resolve incoherence in such cases? And what about the logical aspect of testimony? A testimony has to be told in a coherent fashion to be communicable, but what logical standards are appropriate in receiving the testimony? Circling back to the Hill couple, I think their testimony is coherent, but of course coherence doesn’t lead to truth.

What if, however, they weren’t only retelling a weird story that happened to them overnight, but a story that involves paradoxes? Or perhaps they are expressing something in a worldview that appeals to holistic conceptualisation whose coherence cannot be recognised from an orthodox logical point of view. Can logic be influenced in such social contexts?

Violence in translation: when logic becomes a tool of oppression

Article 3 of Te Tiriti o Waitangi offers a profound insight into the complexities of language translation and the power dynamics it entails:

“Ko te tuatoru (Article 3): Hei wakaritenga mai hoki tenei mo te wakaaetanga ki te Kawanatanga o te Kuini – Ka tiakina e te Kuini o Ingarani nga tangata maori katoa o Nu Tirani ka tukua ki a ratou nga tikanga katoa rite tahi ki ana mea ki nga tangata o Ingarani.”

The English rendition of this article states:

“Article the third: In consideration thereof Her Majesty the Queen of England extends to the Natives of New Zealand Her royal protection and imparts to them all the Rights and Privileges of British Subjects.”

David Seymour, the New Zealand ACT leader and a member of the current governing coalition, addressed this topic in his “State of the Nation” speech on January 28. Seymour argued:

“And when it comes to the Treaty of Waitangi, we as a country have a simple choice to make. We can either believe that the Treaty of Waitangi created a partnership between races, as some say, or we can believe that it delivers what it says itself in the Māori version: nga tikanga katoa rite tahi - the same rights and duties. That is the fundamental question.”

Here, Seymour's interpretation diverges from the commonly used English version, presenting a notable example of epistemic injustice towards the Māori people, as defined by philosopher Miranda Fricker. This instance reveals the significant role logic plays in translation, extending beyond mere linguistic exchange. The concept of 'tikanga,' as interpreted by Seymour, showcases a stark logical imposition of European moral understanding on Māori principles.

Te reo Māori and European logic represent distinct conceptual spaces, with the former embodying a holistic approach, as opposed to the Cartesian framework prevalent in European thought. This distinction is crucial when considering the translation of 'nga tikanga katoa rite tahi' into 'the same rights and duties,' contrasting with the English version's 'all the Rights and Privileges.' 'Tikanga' encompasses a broad spectrum of meanings, including customs, practices, values, and rights, lacking a direct equivalent in English. The choice of translating 'tikanga' to 'duty' imposes a European logical structure, thereby enforcing a specific moral concept with profound legal and societal implications for the Māori community.

This act of translation does not merely reflect a linguistic challenge but represents a form of logical violence, isolating and reinterpreting a rich and interconnected Māori concept within a European moral and legal framework. Such actions underscore the importance of approaching translation with sensitivity to the underlying logical structures, ensuring respect for the original cultural context and preventing the erasure of indigenous knowledge systems.

Reference: https://www.newshub.co.nz/home/politics/2024/01/read-and-watch-act-leader-david-seymour-delivers-state-of-the-nation-speech.html

Shut up and listen!

"Shut up and Listen!" These were the pivotal words of advice from my father about attending school, and they served me well. As a lively and outspoken child, I transformed at school into a quiet observer. This approach allowed me to grasp the teachers' instructions quickly, complete tasks efficiently, and indulge in my passions for reading, video games, and sports. I fondly recall mastering Tetris, rewarded with computer time for classroom achievements.

Reflecting now, it's evident how much time was squandered with classmates not listening, being distracted, or causing trouble. Teachers tirelessly repeated lessons, a cycle spanning months, even years. Yet, this critique might seem harsh. The reality of school, a challenging and monotonous environment where children sit on plastic chairs at tiny desks in enforced silence, was indeed complex.

Contrary to this school persona, I was anything but silent and withdrawn outside of school. I'd engage vigorously in discussions, express my opinions loudly, and challenge others'. This, I observe, is how many adults behave today around me.

I constantly remind myself of my father's advice: to listen. To understand others, their reasons, backgrounds, and especially to seek coherence in their views. Like many, I initially judged people for holding beliefs different from mine. However, logic taught me to pause, not to focus on the content of their beliefs but on their internal coherence. Agreement is not the goal; rather, it's understanding how their beliefs interconnect. This approach often reveals more common ground than initially apparent.

This reflection was sparked by the upcoming Waitangi weekend, a significant time for Māori and European relations in New Zealand. I've been contemplating the “Kiwi before iwi” slogan and the government's attempts at universal equity, which inadvertently overlook specific social justice issues.

Politicians like Winston Peters dominate stages with insults and rhetoric instead of choosing to listen. When figures like Seymour call for debate, it often translates to them lecturing us. Free-speech advocates seem to foster not constructive debates, but rather verbal brawls filled with insults. Luxon, meanwhile, repeats his points incessantly, avoiding questions and residing in a bubble where his version of success, endorsed only by a select few, prevails.

Guys, it's time to embrace my father's simple yet profound advice: "Shut up and Listen."

Navigating the Traffic of Ideas: The Road to Effective Communication

Imagine New Zealand in the 1970s: big cars cruising on open roads with ample parking, a time when seatbelts were an afterthought and drink-driving was not uncommon. This era represented the pinnacle of individual transportation freedom. Like many other places, New Zealand removed trams to make way for cars, driven by the ideal of personal transport freedom. Perhaps, even then, traffic and congestion were issues, but the prevailing dream was always the liberty offered by private vehicles. However, this ideal, once a guiding light in road development, has morphed into a commuter's daily nightmare. Modern roads are often congested, parking is scarce, and the societal costs of maintaining this system are steep. Finding alternative transport solutions is challenging, as evidenced by the opposition to cycle lanes from those who believe such changes impede their individual freedoms. Public transport, expensive and unreliable, leaves people stranded and waiting in the early morning rain. It sucks.

In Logic in the Wild, I discuss how logic can create a safe space for enquiry. Let's extend that concept with a new analogy: achieving neutrality in discourse is akin to managing traffic on communication roads. Historically, the avenue of expression was less crowded, allowing individuals to voice their opinions loudly and without restraint, as often as they wished, largely because only a select few had access to this communicative space. Today, however, the landscape has changed significantly. The road of communication is now populated with a multitude of voices, each trying to be heard simultaneously. This congestive scenario is akin to a busy highway, where maintaining a smooth flow of traffic requires careful management and consideration of all participants

So, what is the solution? Simply building more roads? No, that leads us to the paradox of traffic, another topic I discuss in Logic in the Wild. The answer I propose lies in regulating our communicative roads. We need to slow down our interactions, guided by logic, allowing others to express their views safely before we share ours. The approach to handling tailgaters is to decelerate their pace, ensuring they listen and let others speak.

Consider daily commuters, all sharing a common goal: to reach their destinations safely and in a reasonable time. This doesn't mean everyone heads to the same office or parks in the same lot; it means providing equal opportunity for everyone to safely and timely reach their destinations without succumbing to the old, chaotic ways.

The solution for our roads of communication is akin to public transport in traffic management. We need a system that improves the quality of discourse and manages the flow of ideas in a manner that is safer and more beneficial for everyone, while reducing the casualties of miscommunication.