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so What is more real? The number two or my two feet?

Why must either be "more real" than the other? I can't make sense of "more real," anyway, as a comparison. Are shadows less real than the 3D objects that cast them? Shadows are dependent in a way in which 3D objects are not, but I don't see how that makes shadows any less real when they exist. Some philosophers say that the number 2, being an abstract object, exists necessarily (i.e., in all possible circumstances), whereas your two feet exist only contingently (i.e., in some but not all possible circumstances). But that view does not imply that the number 2 is any more real than your two feet. Other philosophers say that the number 2 exists but not your two feet, because they say that "anatomical foot," being a linguistically vague term, fails to denote anything in the world. (I think they're mistaken.) Still other philosophers would say that neither the number 2 nor your two feet exist. But none of that, I think, implies that one is more real than the other. Is Donald Trump more real than the...

Someone told me that there are nothing like table or chair because what there actually are is arrangement of matter and energy and label attached to it, which only exist in our minds. He thought if we accept nominalism, then we must accept this. I think he confused abstract objects with concrete objects. It seems to me that it's possible to believe things like table and chair exist while believe those concepts exist only in mind. Am I wrong?

Judging from your descriptions of them, your position seems to me more plausible than the other person's position. If tables actually are arrangements of matter and energy to which some label (say, "table") attaches, how does that imply that tables don't exist? On the contrary, it seems to imply that tables do exist, because it implies that tables are things (namely, arrangements of matter and energy) to which that label attaches, i.e., things referred to by that label. Someone who denies the existence of tables ought not to identify tables as anything, including as particular arrangements of matter and energy. It's true that tables wouldn't exist unless human beings (or some other species) made them: tables are artifacts. But of course it's not true that tables wouldn't exist unless human beings (or some other species) attached the label "table" to particular arrangements of matter and energy. Indeed, the very first tables probably weren't called "tables," and in most of the world tables still...

I don't know if this a philosophical question or scientific question, So this is my question, If A create all things, is it logically safe to say that A is uncreated?

The analogy to printing money fails. There's an obvious difference between (a) "I create everything except myself" and (b) "I print all the money except what's in my wallet." Given the impossibility of creating my own creator, (a) implies that I am uncreated. By contrast, (b) doesn't imply that the money in my wallet is unprinted. Maybe Professor Westphal assumes that it's possible for someone to create his/her own creator. Maybe he imagines a time-travel loop in which, say, X creates Y in 1900 and then Y goes back in time to create X in 1800. I think such a scenario is conceptually incoherent, because I think that "X creates Y in 1900" implies "Y doesn't exist prior to 1900." But I suppose others might interpret "creates" differently.
Professor Westphal wrote: "If I create everything except myself, then of course it follows that I do not create myself. But...does it follow that I am uncreated? I can't see how it does. For one thing, there could be someone else who created me...." If I am created, then I have one or more creators, each distinct from me. If I am created and I create everything except myself, then I must create my own creator(s), which is no more coherent than self-creation. Hence I must be uncreated. See my original reply. Professor Westphal's interpretation of John 1:3 makes the verse at least possibly true, but at the cost of making it oddly redundant: "All made things were made by God; and no made things were made without God." The second clause comes so close to simply restating the first clause that it could hardly count as "evidence" in favor of the first.
It's a philosophical question. No scientist, as such, will have any particular expertise for answering it. If A created all things, then it follows that A created itself , since presumably only a thing (rather than literally nothing) can do any creating. But the notion that A created itself seems to me to be logically inconsistent: in order for A to do any creating, A must exist, and in order for A to be created (i.e., to be brought into existence) A can't yet exist. So I conclude that it's impossible for A to create all things. However, if A created everything else , i.e., everything distinct from A, then I think it does follow that A is uncreated. Otherwise, A would have to create A's own creator(s), which seems to me to be logically impossible. I myself think it's impossible for anything to create everything else, because I think that there are abstract objects (such as numbers, or the laws of logic) that exist necessarily and that are necessarily uncreated. So those things, at least,...

In my amateur philosophy club, my friend told me that modal ontological argument is false because its premise, It's possible that a perfect being exists, doesn't make sense. He argued that it is logically equivalent to say "it is possible that it is necessary", which means 'there exists at least one possible world in which all possible worlds have this objects in them.' So, according to his analysis, that premise make possible worlds in a possible world, which is absurd and makes a danger of infinite regress. But I think he misunderstood the argument. I think what actually that premise says is "there is at least one possible world that has a object which is in every possible world." I think this is implied when the argument says that "if something possibly necessarily exists, then it necessarily exists." Am I wrong?

Excellent question. It's great to hear that you belong to a philosophy club. As I see it, if the modal-ontological argument fails, it's not because the locution "It is possible that it is necessary" is absurd or ill-formed or meaningless. The opening premise of the modal-ontological argument can be expressed without using the possible worlds idiom: There could have been a necessarily existing God (where "could have been" is construed as consistent with "is"). The idea is that even atheists are supposed to concede that a necessarily existing God is at least logically possible: logically speaking, there could have been such a thing (even if, according to atheists, there isn't). Granted the possibility of a necessarily existing God, the argument then uses the modal principle "If it's possible that it's necessary that G, then G," letting "G" in this case stand for the proposition that God exists. Conclusion: God actually exists. In my view, the argument can be challenged for assuming (1) the above...

Regarding the age old conundrum of the tree falling in the forest. According to Barclay, there is no sound if there is no mind to hear it. I am thinking that there may be no human around hence no human auditory organs to absorb the waves and send the message of "sound" to the brain.....but that is a bit anthropocentric. The forest is full of creatures that have auditory organs, so some brains will hear the sound....some minds will perceive the sound of a crashing tree, no? (listening to Nigel Warburton's A Little History of Philisophy)

I agree. I don't know what Berkeley says about whether any nonhuman animals possess minds, but on his view, I take it, nonhuman animals would need to possess minds in order to perceive anything. Indeed, according to Berkeley, not only does the tree make no sound unless a mind perceives the sound, but the tree doesn't even exist without a mind to perceive it. (Even if no finite mind perceives the tree, Berkeley attributes the tree's existence to the tree's being perceived by God's mind.) Notice, too, that if we construe "a sound" dispositionally, i.e., as simply a disturbance that would be heard if there were a normally equipped listener to hear it, then sounds can occur even with no listeners (human or nonhuman) on the scene.

I've been wrestling with this problem for some time. My question concerns the concept of 'possibility'. When one says that something is possible, they are saying that something might be but may not be as well. There is an uncertainty. And of course whatever it is cannot both be and not be at the same time. Now, when we say that something is 'not possible', we are saying that something is not and cannot be. There is no uncertainty and the term as used does not seem to be a true negation as is usually meant when the term 'not' is used. What confuses me, is that in when actually trying to negate the concept of possibility, such as when saying 'not possible', aren't we on the one hand saying that 'that which might be' is not, and on the other hand that 'that which may not be' is not as well, and therefore is (or could be)? What may be is not and/or what may not be is. Saying that something is not possible, in this sense, is the same as saying that it is possible, thus making the negation of the concept...

I don't think there's a deep puzzle here, as I hope I can explain. The kind of possibility that stems from uncertainty is usually called "epistemic possibility," often signaled in English by "may" or "might," as in "There may [or might] be life on other planets." We're far from certain that there isn't life on other planets, so there may [for all we know] be life on other planets: life on other planets is an epistemic possibility for us. There are other kinds of possibility, such as metaphysical possibility, but I think the general point I'll make applies to all of them. To deny possibility in this sense, to say that some state of affairs S isn't epistemically possible for someone, is roughly to say that he/she is certain that S doesn't obtain, or at least he/she knows that S doesn't obtain (if knowledge doesn't require certainty). So I'd say that, right now, my own non-existence is epistemically impossible for me, because I know (indeed, I'm certain) that I exist, for the reason Descartes gives...

We know for now, at least, it's impossible to go back in time scientifically. But what if you really needed to, say if you had done something really bad and had ever desperation to go back in time and correct what you did, so you don't suffer the consequences you are suffering in the present. Provided you would not cause a disaster by going back in time, and that you would only change the bad things you did, it is an interesting concept. With this context, if you could be given a drug, that would leave you asleep for the rest of your life (coma), would you do it? Read on, there's more. In this sleep, you will have a dream, which is set from just before your mistake. So essentially, it causes you to simulate the past and the rest of your life in your head. It seems real, but it isn't. My question is, would this be the same as going back in time and changing things in reality? Does reality matter more, or our interpretation of it?

First a terminological quibble. By "scientifically impossible," I take it you really mean just "technologically infeasible," i.e., impossible given the limits of current technology. As I see it, what's scientifically possible or impossible depends only on the laws of nature, which are standardly regarded as unchanging over time (or at least over any time that humans will experience). I think the jury's still out on whether backward time-travel is scientifically impossible in this latter sense. To your question: I think there's something self-contradictory in the idea of "correcting what you did" if that means "bringing it about that you never did what you in fact did." Either (1) you did it, or (~ 1) you never did it. I can't see how any consistent story features both (1) and (~ 1). In that sense, then, there's no such thing as (2) "going back in time and changing things in reality" and therefore nothing that's "the same as" (2). See section 1.2 of the SEP article on time-travel .

I had a brief chat with a work colleague today about the nature of reality and our perception of it. Essentially, his contention was that because we all basically agree on our external physical reality (e.g. when I hand him a cup of tea we both agree that I've just passed him a cup of hot tea), there must be an external reality because we both seem to agree on what it's like. If there wasn't such an external reality and we didn't essentially agree on it, he pointed out, we wouldn't be able to even ask for a cup of tea because my idea of what a cup of tea actually is would be totally different (or at least different enough to make meaningful communication difficult). Therefore, he concluded, it's common sense that we must be talking about and looking at the same "real" things and that we both experience them in the same -- or very similar -- way. Age-old philosophical problem solved! But it can't be that simple. So my question is what are the main problems with this "consensus" view of reality? Or, to put...

I've seen only one of the Matrix films, the first one. You might ask your colleague how he can be certain that things in our world aren't as they're portrayed in that film: that is, you and he merely believe you're conversing in the ordinary way about an ordinary teacup, when in fact you're both hooked up to a computer that's simulating the conversation, the teacup, and your surroundings. Is there some internal indication, something about the way things feel to him during such a conversation, that rules out a Matrix-style simulation? What could that be? Granted, neither you nor your colleague are at all inclined to believe that you're living a simulated existence, but that's just how the Matrix wants it!

When the word" exist "occurs like "numbers exist "does it mean what it means in sentences like "Dogs exist"?

I think it does, or at least I think the burden of proof is on anyone who says that "exist" is systematically ambiguous, meaning one thing when applied to numbers and another thing when applied elsewhere. It's widely held that abstract objects such as numbers, if indeed they exist, don't exist in spacetime, whereas concrete objects such dogs clearly do exist in spacetime. But that doesn't affect the meaning of "exist" itself. In particular, it doesn't imply that "exist" means "exist in spacetime." Otherwise, the expression "exist in spacetime" would be redundant and the expression "exist but not in spacetime" would be self-contradictory, neither of which is the case. Analogy: It's a fact that some things exist aerobically and some things exist anaerobically, but that fact doesn't tempt anyone to say that one or the other kind of thing doesn't really exist, or to say that "exist" just means "exist aerobically." So I see no reason not to say that numbers, if they exist, exist nonspatiotemporally,...

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