The meaning of emergence has been interpreted in a multitude of ways. What is it that emerges in turn from all this ado about emergence?It is regrettable that the only distinctive overtone that seems to come forth is a lurking sense of mystery or mystification about unexpected or unforseen or “new” forms of organizations. This sense of mystery is conveyed most strongly by those who credit the alleged newness to some sort of subtle influence determined to make new things out (...) of the old. Likewise it is also strongly suggested by those who pretend merely to stumble upon it as an “empirical” find,—but, oh, what a fantastic find! (shrink)

My last communication dealt with the question of what is an atom. The answer was a proposal to define the atom as the terminus of a special sort of analysis, the atomistic-structural. This form of analysis was presented as a special way of treating a “material” system or situation. A formula was suggested which expressed matter or the material as the product of structure and atomicity, or M = SA. No limitation was placed on the factoring of M into other (...) products, but this particular product was designated as the structural-atomistic analysis. The factors, S and A, constitute a conjugate pair, so chosen that each member of the pair is meaningless without the other. Atomicity, thus, is not a matter of size or of some sort of ultimateness, but corresponds to some level of being in empirical situations which also reveals structure. (shrink)

In my last talk I introduced you to the system of the sciences and then went on to chat about the first of the natural series of the sciences, namely physics. To-night I shall discuss the other partner of the pair which could be called “the physical sciences”, namely chemistry.Of both of these sciences, physics and chemistry, it may be said that they are preeminently the study of matter-in-motion. Of both it may be said that the methods of study in (...) the laboratory have a strong resemblance. (shrink)

A devoted colleague often asks me: “But what is your philosophy? Are you a monist, dualist, rationalist, idealist, a Kantian? Do you believe Plato was right? Do you think there is free will?” He is amused by my answer that I do not know what any of those questions mean, that at least I am sufficiently uncertain to avoid venturing an answer. He smiles knowingly and says: “You won't tell.”.

Reference to quantum theory has become quite the fashion, and to base an expectation on an already receding episode with relativity theory, a great philosophical assault of interpretation of quanta is brewing in many quarters. The author of this series of studies would be content if by a plain statement of “what is the case” at this stage he could stem the more quixotic efforts, or rather reveal their unreal character to the spectators who may be enmeshed in the spell (...) cast over such adventures. It is constantly necessary to restate the physicists' claims plainly in their positive content—as Einstein himself did once for relativity theory—so that one may know what is no-man's land and what is everyman's land in the new territory. This in itself is largely but a hope since there is no unanimity as to all the facts, and, worse, unanimity is no guarantee of stability. Nevertheless, the painstaking revision that is constantly going on on the experimental front enables us to arrange at least the data on a well-ordered scale of reliability. It then becomes much easier to detect false props to otherwise attractive theories, to discriminate live matter from the débris of progress, and to speculate on future growth. For such reasons the present examination of the various quantum theories will proceed from a presentation of facts and theories to their appraisal and then to a proposal concerning the organization of the facts, concepts and theories. The subject is very complex: There are several quantum theories, some of which are already referred to as “classical” although these themselves were anti-classical ; all have claimed success in their time; all have serious hiatuses, including the present. The author has chosen to hark back to some of the older issues before appraising the latest claims. (shrink)

For a number of years I have been demonstrating at my seminars that the atom is no longer atomic, that mechanics is no longer mechanistic, and that similar paradoxes of advancing science can be formulated throughout its extent. The point has been reached, however, that a call for a revision of terms or some such reform should be issued. At one time, indeed, I gave a list of terms to be dropped altogether. They refused to be dropped. I ask now: (...) Will they permit themselves to be modified or to be reallocated? (shrink)

The striking synthetic effort made by Bohr to unite radiation facts with atomic structure facts led to the formulation of his “quantum theory of atomic structure,” which with a large group of subsequent developments, is now usually referred to as the “classical quantum theory.” As a conceptual aid it takes over the idea of an “astronomical atom” consisting of a positive nucleus around which electrons revolve in definite orbits, more or less in the fashion of the solar system. More or (...) less. The similarities and differences as a bit of description are interesting and impressive, but when the theory is reduced to its postulates—and it is this which interests us here—it sounds very much like a re-statement of the Planckian decisions. (shrink)

The Bohr formulation—the original one—is now largely a matter of history. The usual career of a theory was its fate. It explained much, but it failed at the first signs of complication, even for the simplest molecules as hydrogen and helium. Some results were either only approximate in a loose or incomplete fashion, e.g. in the application of the correspondence principle to intensities, the only reliable predictions being only for an absence of certain lines, or they quite disagreed with experiment, (...) e.g. in the case of the hydrogen molecule and the hydrogen molecule ion, the normal and excited states of helium, the anomalous Zeeman effect, the Ramsauer effect, and in the treatment of problems where more than one electron was involved. In the last mentioned cases the perturbation method, so successful in solving “many-body” problems in celestial mechanics, failed completely because systems of several electrons, possessing frequencies of the order of light waves, cannot interact classically. A bit of much forced pragmatism was practiced in treating the many electron atom as a variation of the hydrogen atom. Besides, there were technical oddities, like ½ quantum numbers, and impenetrated anologies between visible and X-ray spectra. (shrink)

We pause in the process of exposition to note what continuity we may in the progress of the theories of discontinuity we have been discussing. The following trends are rather distinct: the development of more and more general mathematical approaches, a marked broadening of the field of experimental issues, and an increasing attention to analysis of fundamental concepts, the philosophy of physics.

Scientists are people. They are not “people, but…”. They have not escaped and cannot escape the “democentric” predicament. They are members of a society, no matter how hard they strain to be individualistic or exclusively clannish. If they succeed in being members of a small clan or a club they can be credited possibly with having more or less shrunk only the apparent size of their society, without escaping in any significant manner the social field implied in being “people”. If (...) they attempt a greater shrinkage than that, they court complete frustration. To verify that, try, if you will, to imagine a thoroughly solitary scientist on a desert isle. Is he not alone and at last an illustration of the ungrammatical and even logically fictitious singular of the word “people”? No, he is definitely and hopelessly not alone, unless he first forgets even as habit everything he has learned from people. And, if he does that, he is no longer a scientist or even the rudiments of one. Indeed he must be reduced at least to the status of an animal, and an extremely unsocial one at that, because by the terms of our imaginary experiment, he must not join any other society, even if it were of but “animal-people”, e.g. a wolf-pack or an ant-hill culture, where he might learn something from others. Such strictness in argument is introduced only to drive home the fact that what constitutes “people” is derived from the dimmest animal past, where language is still unspoken and is constituted of simple actions taken together, literally concepts. The “con” in “concept” tends to be forgotten. We underscore it. (shrink)

One of the most thankless tasks in the field of the philosophy of science is the arranging of the sciences. If philosophy is to fulfill the partial rôle of being the “science of the sciences” it is sure to return to this undertaking time and time again. Sometimes it will refer to the enterprise as “the classification of the sciences,” sometimes as the formulation of “the system of the sciences,” and occasionally in the grand manner as a description of the (...) “order of Nature.” I prefer to speak of “arranging” the sciences. (shrink)

Since my discussion of an experimental arrangement of the sciences for certain practical objectives, some comment has appeared which makes it necessary to re-emphasize certain points by a further example. There seems to be something like a desire to paralyze the hand that makes arrangements for fear that undue profound metaphysical significance may be seen in a “mere” arrangement. It is the perennial fear of the a priori, the fear of a principle being invoked because of its “self-evidence”, and then (...) turning traitor on the actual evidence. I invoke no such principle either overtly or covertly. (shrink)

Only one philosopher has succeeded in building his reputation on silence—Cratylus. It is said that under no circumstance would he say anything, but would merely crook his finger. Nor is it known whether he achieved this unique glory by a persistence that lasted from toothless youth to toothless old age, or whether he merely petered out into withering speechlessness before the follies of man and the grandeur of God. More likely it was something like the latter, for otherwise we would (...) be confronted by the delicate riddle: why was he called a philosopher?Nevertheless, a tenable explanation is that Cratylus' reputation was arrived at by an experiment. Arranging philosophers on a scale of self.control in speech, one might derive the plausible law: the less one says the more he is of a philosopher. Ergo, say nothing and be declared the worthiest of philosophers. The difficulties in such an extrapolation, however, are very great. It is hard to see what harm just one word can do, and even two or three, or several, if they but fall short of being a sentence. Why absolute silence? Then, again, what harm is there in repeating even a multitude of words, the entire dictionary if you please, plus whatever sounds you can think of, provided you say nothing? And since we have progressed so far with the argument, what harm can there be even in connected speech, grammatical, fluent and mellifluous, provided you still say nothing? Cratylus, apparently, was playing a safe bet with a vengeance. He must have feared being understood by accident! (shrink)

My contention in what is to follow is that in a very important sense we have no atomic secret whatsoever. It is not ours to hide or to share. More than ever it is ours to seek. So far it remains quite undiscovered.Like good philosophers we must pay attention to the terms used in our assertions. We must point out where we meet the requirements of usage and where we decide to use terms in a definite way, although usage is (...) vague. Thus, the term “atomic” is a misnomer, but it is a misnomer here to stay. It means “nuclear.” Like all good people we must continue saying “atomic” in this connection when we mean “nuclear,” but we must not forget this fact and substitute what we know about the atom for what we do not know about the nucleus. We must also realize that the term “secret” has at least a double use: one, which means that the knowledge is possessed by an exclusive few; another, which means that the knowledge is possessed by no one, as in the expression “a secret of Nature.”. (shrink)

In undertaking a discussion of the postulates of empiricism, I am confronted by the necessity of being empirical concerning the very postulates themselves. Were those postulates directly accessible to the average mind it would hardly be necessary to enter upon an analysis the success of which seems but a remote possibility even to one who has spent years in the effort to trace the priceless ingredient of the method of experiment in the cheap madness of scientific success. How these postulates (...) reveal themselves to more than the average mind would, of course, be very difficult for me to surmise, except by an ambitious extrapolation. It would have to be an extrapolation of the kind which telescopes a multitude of small rational steps into one swift unerring instinctive flight to the goal of goals. Yet, though genius with one intuitive glance may perceive the postulates as revelation—why not grant that there may be seers who can contemplate eternal objects unblinkingly?—it would still have to descend to mundane means to inform the average mind of its transcendental perceptions. Must not everyone indeed attend to the demands of the average mind? (shrink)

The use of the word “possible” without qualification invariably leads us to the endless, or at least well beyond our finite powers of analysis. Yet, to qualify possibility may itself become an endless task, if only because of the multitude of the available modes of approach. Somewhere in the middle of the realm of possibility one must parachute down and start ordering the scattered riches for our finite purposes with our limited and only newly acquired perspectives. What we have glimpsed (...) of the realms of possibility before our descent may still be of use, but our immediate tasks will bind us to the sternly empirical gravitational pulls of what happens to have erupted in the historical fields of discovery. (shrink)

It is my pleasant task to open a series of discussions on the sciences which will continue here in Cooper Union for the rest of the season. A few words are necessary, therefore, to indicate the design of the pattern of the lecture series as a whole, as well as the specific place and quality of my own lecture.

The claim of this communication is to present an outline of a program of research and development of thermodynamics. The scope of this and subsequent discussions will be “materialistic,” by which the author means a combination of both formal and experimental aspects.

In the practice of science lies the key to virtue. The proposition I have enunciated is not an obvious one. Its contradictory could conceivably be true. One might, for example, look upon the practice of science as a diabolical way of blinding one to the charms of virtue. One might look upon the practice of science as a deliberate plot to efface virtue, destroy it. Worse, one might look upon the practice of science as entirely apart from the issues of (...) good and bad, of right and wrong, or of virtue and viciousness. The practice of science may be conceived as blind, itself vicious, or irresponsibly indifferent. (shrink)

In raising the question of what is a monad I am continuing along the line of two previous discussions. Those dwelt with the questions of what is an atom and what is a gene. Each contained proposals to sharpen meanings of old terms rather than to resort to new ones. The old term “monad” will also be subject to such a proposal. It will not mean merely any one of a dozen things it has meant to different users, but will (...) serve as a more or less well fitting name for the third member of the sequence: atom-gene-x. (shrink)

Freedom is variability within a system. I venture to give this definition as a natural extension of a series of discussions dealing with what I call materialistic analysis and insight. Objects and such, as I portrayed them, may be analyzed or comprehended as wholes. The questions were always lurking in my discussion, however, whether an analysis or an insight must be unique, whether it is sharply determined or not, whether it is fixed or variable, whether there are alternative analyses and (...) insights, and whether in some sense one is “free” to choose his analysis or insight. In suggesting these questions, I was not referring to the possible lack of talent of the thinker, who might have a hopelessly single-track mind, but to the objective limitations set by the object being thought about and the observer doing the thinking. I was referring to an emphatically comprehensive freedom, persistently objective although it embraces a so-called “subject.” This freedom I would call materialistic or concrete freedom, and it is this freedom that I wish to discuss. What I call objective includes many things described—carelessly, I believe—as subjective. For better or for worse, I propose to limit the term subjective in connection with freedom to what would be specifically described as purely subjective. The purely subjective notion of freedom would make it absolute, completely arbitrary, infinitely variable, independent of matter as a pure phenomenon of mind, and empirically unverifiable in the sense of being most private. Such freedom I would be unable to discuss were I rash enough to want to do so. Such freedom is personal and mystical and hence not subject to the finite prison of discussion with its bars of language, its narrow bed of fact and its threat of the strait jacket for the prisoner who imagines words to be what they are not to all others. Otherwise, there is no objection to retaining the term “subjective” for the objective behavior of a “subject.” The blend of such subjective factors with factors we habitually call objective I call materialistic. I have no more affection for the purely objective than for the purely subjective. The blend is the thing. (shrink)

Philosophers are often praised for their insight even if they are found wanting in their powers of analysis. The noble edifices of thought raised by the famous have been reduced to more or less noble ruins, if we consider what disintegrating, analytical time and tide have done to the weaker members of the structures. Some of the palaces of thought even seem to stand without any foundations. Yet they stand. They are admired no longer for their utility or for their (...) massiveness, but for the beauty of their conception. Their conception is said to represent the insight of their authors. (shrink)