Consider the two Duhemian theses S, according to which no single or individual theoretical hypothesis by itself has any observational consequences, and F, which states that no single theoretical hypothesis can be conclusively falsified by any observations.

Does the truth of F follow from the truth of S? I had conjectured that Duhem may have thought so, but I argued that it does not [1]. Nancy Tuana contends that my argument misses the mark, and she goes on to argue that it does [2]. It seems to me that her arguments are decisive on this point, and so I welcome the correction.

There has been much discussion in recent years of the possibilities for and nature of “value science.” The present paper is intended to be a contribution to this discussion. One encouraging feature of the bulk of current discussion of value science is that its protagonists have a definite end in view, namely, “human betterment,” taking that phrase in the common sense as covering, at least, a process of creating and maintaining such conditions of life as enable human beings successfully to engage in satisfying activities.

The death of Alfred North Whitehead late in 1947 was a double loss. Those who knew Whitehead, even slightly, feel keenly the loss of a warm and stimulating personality, which in the last years of his retirement had mellowed to a benign radiance. The wider circle of students and teachers of philosophy who knew him through his writing alone regret the passing of the man who, many thought, was the most capable cosmologist of our time.

What has been learned about logic by means of “uninterpreted” logistic systems can be supplemented by comparing the latter with systems which are more uninterpreted, as well as with others which are less uninterpreted than the well-known logistic systems. By somewhat extending the meaning of ‘uninterpreted’, I hope to establish certain claims about the nature of logistic systems and also to cast some light on the nature of “logic itself.”

My procedure involves looking at three major “degrees” of interpretation: first, systems uninterpreted both semantically and syntactically, second, systems uninterpreted semantically but not syntactically, and third, systems uninterpreted neither semantically nor syntactically. We shall be forced to limit ourselves to the truth-functional part of logic in this brief study. What are usually called uninterpreted systems can be seen on a continuum of “degrees” of interpretation, from ordinary reasoning at one extreme to a “thoroughly uninterpreted system” at the other.

“Logic itself” apparently lies nearer to the interpreted, deformalized end of the spectrum than to the uninterpreted, formalized end. Logic is not identical with any particular logistic system, but is that which the particular logistic systems aim to formalize or model or capture. I propose that it is that minimum set of logical, rather than syntactical, primitive terms, definitions, and rules which is needed to generate logically, rather than syntactically, the principles of ordinary reasoning as it is used by logicians in their metalinguistic discussions and informal proofs of metatheorems. This minimum set is somewhat larger than the primitive bases of most logistic systems; its truth-functional part is presented in the “Deformalized Logic” at degree twelve.

One of the annoying habits of philosophers is to substitute without warning a normative for a descriptive theory of the topic they are discussing—that is, in what purports to be a statement of how the subject actually presents itself they tell us instead how it ought to present itself. Current treatments of the elusive topic “meaning” seem to me to supply capital instances of this vice. Defenders of a positivist or an operational theory of meaning (I pick these two because of their wide contemporary influence) often give us no hint that their conclusions are conclusions about how the meaning of words ought to be interpreted, not about how, by and large, it is interpreted. Without such a hint their readers naturally suppose that it is the latter problem with which they are concerned, but this is rarely the case; were it so, emphasis could hardly fail to fall on determinants of meaning that are too often neglected by philosophical analysts.

In The Structure of Scientific Inference ([2]), Mary Hesse has argued for a realist interpretation of science. Her realism, however, is not to be understood in the context of the traditional realist/instrumentalist debate within the philosophy of science. That debate focused on the question of whether or not science did anything other than systematize the empirical data given in our experience. The traditional realist answered “yes” and most frequently described the theoretical statements of science, not only as true, but also as providing descriptions of the world. The instrumentalist on the other hand answered “no” and ascribed no descriptive force to the theoretical statements of science. However, according to Hesse, neither party in the contemporary realism debate assumes the notion of an empirical given. Consequently, the present dispute must be understood as taking place on a level which is logically prior to its predecessor.

This essay is a refutation of Hume on causal inference. The decisive point of the refutation is that Hume's argument is invalid unless it is assumed, contrary to his own relational theory of time, that mere difference in dates can affect the course of nature. In the preliminary discussion of sections II and III the words “cause,” “effect,” and “causal relation” are employed in a nontechnical sense, which is exemplified in such statements as “Fire causes heat”, “Lightning and thunder are causally related”, “When one turns the steering wheel to the right, the effect is that the car moves to the right”, and so on. But in order to forestall rebuttals in defense of Hume one needs a greater precision in terminology as well as in conception of causality. Section IV aiming at precision gives a statement of the principles of causality which is in accordance with the position of modern science. An examination of this statement shows that the validity of causal inference must be accepted along with a relational theory of time. A comment on causal inference in relation to induction brings the discussion to a close.

Adrian Currie has introduced a novel account of creativity within the social epistemology of science. The account is intended to capture how conservatism can be detrimental to the health of inquiry within certain scientific communities, given the aims of research there. I argue that recent remarks by Carlo Rovelli put pressure on the applicability of the account. Altogether, it seems we do not yet well understand the relationship between creativity, conservatism, and the health of inquiry in science.

Glymour's account of confirmation is seen to have paradoxical consequences when applied to the confirmation of theories containing theoretical functions. An alternative conception of instances derived from Sneed's reconstruction of physical theories is conjoined with the instance view of confirmation to produce an account of confirmation that avoids these problems. The topic of selective confirmation is discussed, and it is argued that theories containing theoretical functions are not selectively confirmable.

I uncover here a conflict in Kant’s natural philosophy. His matter theory and laws of mechanics are in tension. Kant’s laws are fit for particles but are too narrow to handle continuous bodies, which his doctrine of matter demands. To fix this defect, Kant ultimately must ground the Torque Law; that is, the impressed torque equals the change in angular momentum. But that grounding requires a premise—the symmetry of the stress tensor—that Kant denies himself. I argue that his problem would not arise if he had kept his early theory of matter as made of mass points, or “physical monads.”

In a recent article (1980) G. H. Merrill has defended realism against an argument devised by Hilary Putnam. My first aim is to show that Merrill's defence is inadequate. I shall also argue that the proper conclusion of Putnam's argument is somewhat different from the conclusion Putnam himself offers.

If one proposes to analyze dispositions by means of statements involving only the ‘if-then’ of material implication–-that is, for example, to define ‘x is soluble’ by means of 'x is in water ⊃ x dissolves'–-then one faces the problem first raised by Carnap, the match which is never put in water and which therefore turns out to be not only soluble but also both soluble and insoluble. I have elsewhere argued that if one refers to appropriate laws, then one can provide an account of disposition predication that solves Carnap's problem while requiring no sense of ‘if-then’ other than that of material implication. Harré and Madden have argued that a variant of this proposal–-one in which the relevant law is restricted to one that relates the disposition to internal structures–-is more adequate. It is argued that the proposal of Harré and Madden is in fact not adequate. It leads to an implausible infinite regress of dispositions and ever finer internal structures, which Harré and Madden avoid only by introducing “Parmenidean individuals.“ The examples they give turn out to involve dispositions not grounded in internal structures, and so support our analysis; while the explicit description of such individuals by Harré and Madden involves the incoherent idea that two individuals can share all categorical properties while differing in their dispositions. The position of Harré and Madden thus turns out to be equivalent to ours or to be incoherent.

Dmitri Mendeleev, while not creatively a philosopher of science, nor a student of systematic philosophy, was eminently a philosophical scientist. Concern about the nature and foundations of his science is evident throughout the text and footnotes of the Principles of Chemistry. One has to presume that his conclusions provided him with some direction for “the study of his great generalizations” in chemistry, especially for the greatest fruit of his efforts, the Periodic System of the Elements. At least it is apparent that somehow he acquired a much greater confidence in the feasibility of systemizing extant chemical knowledge than almost any of his contemporaries.

Every natural scientist, I should suppose, is an empiricist. But to say this is not to assert that he is consciously such. Very few scientists would presumably consider themselves qualified to state even what is involved in the term, and still fewer would be willing to admit that they are adherents of the position. One might say that natural scientists, in their general outlook, presuppose—in one of the many meanings of this term—the empirical point of view. This probably means that if one could make clear to them what is meant by the term, and if one could convince them that it is proper for scientists to take sides on philosophical issues, they should probably be willing to call themselves empiricists. Expressed otherwise, the general temper and spirit of natural science are those which philosophers tend to identify with the empirical outlook.

The following paper is a continuation of an attempt (2) to explore the possibility of intensifying sociological analysis through the development of heuristic devices. The value of heuristic devices lies, so it seems to me, in their essential simplicity and the consequent broadness of their applicability. A heuristic device differs from a law in that it is not an if, then type of proposition. It is a guide to analysis rather than a statement of the necessary issue of the analysis. It suggests how the analysis may be carried forward rather than states how it must come out. The principle of limits as presented below is an attempt to show how this relatively simple heuristic device may be used in a variety of areas of social analysis.

While there has been general agreement among modern philosophers of science that a purely a priori method is inappropriate to the task of establishing a theory of science, there has, unfortunately, been little comparable agreement regarding the method that is appropriate. I try to lay the foundations for such agreement. I first set out reasons for a purely empirical method for establishing a theory of science, and defend such a method against charges raised by Giere. I then develop some very basic criteria for the evaluation of alternative empirical methods for establishing a theory of science, and use these criteria to evaluate the two such methods that have dominated philosophic discussion in recent years—those of Lakatos and Laudan. I end by defending a revised version of Lakatos’ proposal.

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.

The relationship between a class of structural forms and a single reduced form econometric model is discussed. These are shown to be empirically equivalent. It is made clear that choice of a particular structural form for estimation, rather than another of the same class, rests on a priori heuristic and computational considerations, not on empirical or logical grounds.

Alternative scientific strategies are discussed briefly.

Shown here is that a constraint used by Popper in The Logic of Scientific Discovery (1959) for calculating the absolute probability of a universal quantification, and one introduced by Stalnaker in “Probability and Conditionals” (1970, 70) for calculating the relative probability of a negation, are too weak for the job. The constraint wanted in the first case is in Bendali (1979) and that wanted in the second case is in Popper (1959).