Here is the “supplementary reading” I mentioned, (which perhaps belongs instead under Duncan’s comment in the other thread).
In an earlier draft, my opening sentence for this essay was, “Once I’ve identified a question that’s crucial to my story, it’s time to start observing the world—not so much to find an answer, as to position myself to ask better questions.” A beta reader highlighted “it’s time to start observing the world”, and said this about it (paraphrased): “I found this to be a confusing first sentence, because it makes it sound like this part of naturalism is about ‘observing the world’; but as I understand it, this part of naturalism is about ‘observing my reactions to the world’.”
To which I replied:
>I think part of what’s going on here is that we have… not quite different ontologies, I think, in the sense that we think different entities exist… but at least different conceptualizations of the world and minds at a pretty fundamental level.
>I don’t know how to talk about this well yet, despite an awful lot of attempts (like the “Intro To Naturalism” sequence), but I’ll take a stab at talking about it anyway.
>There is no such thing as “observing the world as distinct from observing my /reactions/ to the world.” Instead, the real distinction that actually exists is between “learning about the world by observing my reactions to it and knowing that what I’m observing are my reactions” and “learning about the world by observing my reactions to it and not knowing that what I’m observing are my reactions”. There’s no such thing as looking directly at a cup, in the way it’s most natural to imagine. All you can do is point your eyes toward a cup, and be aware of whatever you experience as a result.
>When I take a naturalist approach to cup observation, I “try to look at my experience as I direct my eyes toward cups”. This is not because it is actually possible to observe cups any more directly than that, but because framing it as a study of my own experience is a really powerful strategy mitigating the damage that map/territory conflations ordinarily cause to attempts to learn about things and solve problems.
>So when I’m “observing my experience of a cup”, I am actually doing my very best to observe the outside world. In fact I’m attempting to observe the outside world more accurately and precisely than I ordinarily could while merely “trying to observe cups”, because when I am aware that I’m observing my own experience, I am also aware that what exists in the world is distinct from my experience in various ways, even if I don’t understand what those ways are. My awareness of that distinction grants me much more freedom to hypothesize about other ways the actual world could be, and so whatever conclusions I draw about cups as a result contain less interference from my own reactions to cups. By observing my reactions to cups, I end up forming cup models that have less to do with me, and more to do with cups.
>Like imagine that you see a straw in a glass of water (for the first time). This seems weird to you, since straws are supposed to be straight, so you deicide to study it and try to figure out what’s going on.
>Imagine two different ways of approaching that study.
>The first way, you start with the question, “Why do straws bend when you stick them in water?”
>The second way, you start with the question, “Why do straws look to me as though they bend when you stick them in water?”
>In the second case you’re studying your reactions to straws in water, but you’re more likely to end up more quickly with models that involve how light works, because you recognized from the outset that “the straw itself bends” is not actually what you observed; what you actually observed is “the image of the straw that appears in my mind under these conditions bends”.
>A major thesis of mine is that “everything we cast our attention on is like the staw, to varying degrees”, and I tend to go “oh naturalism is an especially good idea for this person in particular” when I hear about their problem/curiosity/interest and it makes me think “ah yes, that right there sounds especially much like a bent straw”.
(Rationality, I claim, is absolutely chock full of bent straws, much more so than the vast majority of other fields of study.)
My beta reader found this response helpful, but they also were starting with a different set of thoughts than you are, I think. Still, I do wonder whether it does anything to bridge the gap between us.
Here is the “supplementary reading” I mentioned, (which perhaps belongs instead under Duncan’s comment in the other thread).
In an earlier draft, my opening sentence for this essay was, “Once I’ve identified a question that’s crucial to my story, it’s time to start observing the world—not so much to find an answer, as to position myself to ask better questions.” A beta reader highlighted “it’s time to start observing the world”, and said this about it (paraphrased): “I found this to be a confusing first sentence, because it makes it sound like this part of naturalism is about ‘observing the world’; but as I understand it, this part of naturalism is about ‘observing my reactions to the world’.”
To which I replied:
>I think part of what’s going on here is that we have… not quite different ontologies, I think, in the sense that we think different entities exist… but at least different conceptualizations of the world and minds at a pretty fundamental level.
>I don’t know how to talk about this well yet, despite an awful lot of attempts (like the “Intro To Naturalism” sequence), but I’ll take a stab at talking about it anyway.
>There is no such thing as “observing the world as distinct from observing my /reactions/ to the world.” Instead, the real distinction that actually exists is between “learning about the world by observing my reactions to it and knowing that what I’m observing are my reactions” and “learning about the world by observing my reactions to it and not knowing that what I’m observing are my reactions”. There’s no such thing as looking directly at a cup, in the way it’s most natural to imagine. All you can do is point your eyes toward a cup, and be aware of whatever you experience as a result.
>When I take a naturalist approach to cup observation, I “try to look at my experience as I direct my eyes toward cups”. This is not because it is actually possible to observe cups any more directly than that, but because framing it as a study of my own experience is a really powerful strategy mitigating the damage that map/territory conflations ordinarily cause to attempts to learn about things and solve problems.
>So when I’m “observing my experience of a cup”, I am actually doing my very best to observe the outside world. In fact I’m attempting to observe the outside world more accurately and precisely than I ordinarily could while merely “trying to observe cups”, because when I am aware that I’m observing my own experience, I am also aware that what exists in the world is distinct from my experience in various ways, even if I don’t understand what those ways are. My awareness of that distinction grants me much more freedom to hypothesize about other ways the actual world could be, and so whatever conclusions I draw about cups as a result contain less interference from my own reactions to cups. By observing my reactions to cups, I end up forming cup models that have less to do with me, and more to do with cups.
>Like imagine that you see a straw in a glass of water (for the first time). This seems weird to you, since straws are supposed to be straight, so you deicide to study it and try to figure out what’s going on.
>Imagine two different ways of approaching that study.
>The first way, you start with the question, “Why do straws bend when you stick them in water?”
>The second way, you start with the question, “Why do straws look to me as though they bend when you stick them in water?”
>In the second case you’re studying your reactions to straws in water, but you’re more likely to end up more quickly with models that involve how light works, because you recognized from the outset that “the straw itself bends” is not actually what you observed; what you actually observed is “the image of the straw that appears in my mind under these conditions bends”.
>A major thesis of mine is that “everything we cast our attention on is like the staw, to varying degrees”, and I tend to go “oh naturalism is an especially good idea for this person in particular” when I hear about their problem/curiosity/interest and it makes me think “ah yes, that right there sounds especially much like a bent straw”.
(Rationality, I claim, is absolutely chock full of bent straws, much more so than the vast majority of other fields of study.)
My beta reader found this response helpful, but they also were starting with a different set of thoughts than you are, I think. Still, I do wonder whether it does anything to bridge the gap between us.