In place of qualitative red, we get zombie-red, i.e., causal/functional-red. In place of qualitative knowledge, we get zombie-knowledge.
At this point, you’re just using the language wrong. “knowledge” refers to what you’re calling “zombie-knowledge”—whenever we point to an instance of knowledge, we mean whatever it is humans are doing. So “humans are zombies” doesn’t work, unless you can point to some sort of non-human non-zombies that somehow gave us zombies the words and concepts of non-zombies.
At this point, you’re just using the language wrong.
That assumes a determinate answer to the question ‘what’s the right way to use language?’ in this case. But the facts on the ground may underdetermine whether it’s ‘right’ to treat definitions more ostensively (i.e., if Berkeley turns out to be right, then when I say ‘tree’ I’m picking out an image in my mind, not a non-existent material plant Out There), or ‘right’ to treat definitions as embedded in a theory, an interpretation of the data (i.e., Berkeley doesn’t really believe in trees as we do, he just believes in ‘tree-images’ and misleadingly calls those ‘trees’). Either of these can be a legitimate way that linguistic communities change over time; sometimes we keep a term’s sense fixed and abandon it if the facts aren’t as we thought, whereas sometimes we’re more intensionally wishy-washy and allow terms to get pragmatically redefined to fit snugly into the shiny new model. Often it depends on how quickly, and how radically, our view of the world changes.
(Though actually, qualia may raise a serious problem for ostension-focused reference-fixing: It’s not clear what we’re actually ostending, if we think we’re picking out phenomenal properties but those properties are not only misconstrued, but strictly non-existent. At least verbal definitions have the advantage that we can relatively straightforwardly translate the terms involved into our new theory.)
Moreover, this assumes that you know how I’m using the language. I haven’t said whether I think ‘knowledge’ in contemporary English denotes q-knowledge (i.e., knowledge including qualia) or z-knowledge (i.e., causal/functional/behavioral knowledge, without any appeal to qualia). I think it’s perfectly plausible that it refers to q-knowledge, hence I hedge my bets when I need to speak more precisely and start introducing ‘zombified’ terms lest semantic disputes interfere in the discussion of substance. But I’m neutral both on the descriptive question of what we mean by mental terms (how ‘theory-neutral’ they really are), and on the normative question of what we ought to mean by mental terms (how ‘theory-neutral’ they should be). I’m an eliminativist on the substantive questions; on the non-substantive question of whether we should be revisionist or traditionalist in our choice of faux-mental terminology, I’m largely indifferent, as long as we’re clear and honest in whatever semantic convention we adopt.
At this point, you’re just using the language wrong. “knowledge” refers to what you’re calling “zombie-knowledge”—whenever we point to an instance of knowledge, we mean whatever it is humans are doing. So “humans are zombies” doesn’t work, unless you can point to some sort of non-human non-zombies that somehow gave us zombies the words and concepts of non-zombies.
That assumes a determinate answer to the question ‘what’s the right way to use language?’ in this case. But the facts on the ground may underdetermine whether it’s ‘right’ to treat definitions more ostensively (i.e., if Berkeley turns out to be right, then when I say ‘tree’ I’m picking out an image in my mind, not a non-existent material plant Out There), or ‘right’ to treat definitions as embedded in a theory, an interpretation of the data (i.e., Berkeley doesn’t really believe in trees as we do, he just believes in ‘tree-images’ and misleadingly calls those ‘trees’). Either of these can be a legitimate way that linguistic communities change over time; sometimes we keep a term’s sense fixed and abandon it if the facts aren’t as we thought, whereas sometimes we’re more intensionally wishy-washy and allow terms to get pragmatically redefined to fit snugly into the shiny new model. Often it depends on how quickly, and how radically, our view of the world changes.
(Though actually, qualia may raise a serious problem for ostension-focused reference-fixing: It’s not clear what we’re actually ostending, if we think we’re picking out phenomenal properties but those properties are not only misconstrued, but strictly non-existent. At least verbal definitions have the advantage that we can relatively straightforwardly translate the terms involved into our new theory.)
Moreover, this assumes that you know how I’m using the language. I haven’t said whether I think ‘knowledge’ in contemporary English denotes q-knowledge (i.e., knowledge including qualia) or z-knowledge (i.e., causal/functional/behavioral knowledge, without any appeal to qualia). I think it’s perfectly plausible that it refers to q-knowledge, hence I hedge my bets when I need to speak more precisely and start introducing ‘zombified’ terms lest semantic disputes interfere in the discussion of substance. But I’m neutral both on the descriptive question of what we mean by mental terms (how ‘theory-neutral’ they really are), and on the normative question of what we ought to mean by mental terms (how ‘theory-neutral’ they should be). I’m an eliminativist on the substantive questions; on the non-substantive question of whether we should be revisionist or traditionalist in our choice of faux-mental terminology, I’m largely indifferent, as long as we’re clear and honest in whatever semantic convention we adopt.