1 Laying Our Cards on the Table

It is time for epistemology to take its rightful place alongside ethics as a

discipline that offers practical, real-world recommendations for living.

In our society, the powerful are at least sometimes asked to provide a

moral justification for their actions. And there is at least sometimes a

heavy price to be paid when a person, particularly an elected official, is

caught engaging in immoral actions or defending clearly immoral policies.

But our society hands out few sanctions to those who promote and defend

policies supported by appallingly weak reasoning. Too often, condemnation

is meted out only after the policies have been implemented and have

led to horrible results: irresponsible war and spilt blood or the needless

ruin of people’s prospects and opportunities.

Epistemology is a serious business for at least two reasons. First, epistemology

guides reasoning, and we reason about everything. If one embraces

a defective morality, one’s ability to act ethically is compromised. But if one

embraces a defective epistemology, one’s ability to act effectively in all areas

of life is compromised. Second, people don’t fully appreciate the risks and

dangers of poor reasoning. Everyone knows the danger of intentional evil;

but few fully appreciate the real risks and untold damage wrought by

apparently upstanding folk who embrace and act on bad epistemological

principles. Such people don’t look dangerous. But they are. An example of

the costs of upstanding people reasoning poorly is the surprisingly strong

opposition in the United States to policies that would provide opportunities

and services to the disadvantaged (e.g., in terms of education and

basic needs such as health care). Much of this opposition is not based on

the rejection of a moral principle of equal opportunity, but instead on

poorly-arrived-at empirical views. Some people reject redistributive social

policies on the grounds that they are inevitably ineffective; others rely on

clearly mistaken views about what percentage of the federal budget actually

goes to pay for such programs. That’s not to say that there aren’t good

arguments against some redistributive policies. Some can backfire, and

others (particularly those that benefit the non-poor) can be very expensive.

But sound comparative policy analysis provides no support to a principled

opposition to redistributive social policies. People who defend appalling

social policies often do so on the basis of weak reasoning about factual

matters rather than on the basis of backward moral precepts.

One might think that our call for a more prescriptive, reason-guiding

epistemology is more appropriate for the areas of ‘‘critical thinking’’ or

‘‘informal logic’’ (Feldman 1999, 184–85, n10). The problem with this

suggestion is that these areas, as exemplified in textbooks, are completely

divorced from contemporary epistemology. This bespeaks deep problems

both for critical thinking courses and for contemporary epistemology.

Epistemology, if it is to achieve its normative potential, must make firm

contact with the sorts of reasoning errors that lead to horrendous and

avoidable outcomes. And critical thinking courses must be informed by a

theory about what makes reasoning good or bad. We do not have in mind

a thin epistemological ‘‘theory’’ (e.g., ‘‘premises should be true and support

the conclusion’’) that yields a long list of informal fallacies. Rather, an

effective critical thinking course should be informed by a theory that

(among other things) helps us to recognize, anticipate, and compensate

for our cognitive frailties. In other words, such courses should be informed

by a deeply naturalistic epistemological theory.

We have written this book driven by a vision of what epistemology

could be—normatively reason guiding and genuinely capable of benefiting

the world. If our tone is not always dispassionate, it is because our profession

has so clearly failed to bring the potential benefits of epistemology

to ordinary people’s lives. We are under no illusions, however. This book

is, at best, a modest first step toward the construction of an epistemological

theory with concrete, prescriptive bite. And even if our theory

should be somewhere close to the truth, we are not sanguine about the

potential of philosophy to influence the world. Sometimes, though, life

rewards wild-eyed optimists. If in our case it doesn’t, we fall squarely

within what is best in our philosophical tradition if our reach should

exceed our grasp.

It is time for epistemology to take its rightful place alongside ethics as a

discipline that offers practical, real-world recommendations for living.

In our society, the powerful are at least sometimes asked to provide a

moral justification for their actions. And there is at least sometimes a

heavy price to be paid when a person, particularly an elected official, is

caught engaging in immoral actions or defending clearly immoral policies.

But our society hands out few sanctions to those who promote and defend

policies supported by appallingly weak reasoning. Too often, condemnation

is meted out only after the policies have been implemented and have

led to horrible results: irresponsible war and spilt blood or the needless

ruin of people’s prospects and opportunities.

Epistemology is a serious business for at least two reasons. First, epistemology

guides reasoning, and we reason about everything. If one embraces

a defective morality, one’s ability to act ethically is compromised. But if one

embraces a defective epistemology, one’s ability to act effectively in all areas

of life is compromised. Second, people don’t fully appreciate the risks and

dangers of poor reasoning. Everyone knows the danger of intentional evil;

but few fully appreciate the real risks and untold damage wrought by

apparently upstanding folk who embrace and act on bad epistemological

principles. Such people don’t look dangerous. But they are. An example of

the costs of upstanding people reasoning poorly is the surprisingly strong

opposition in the United States to policies that would provide opportunities

and services to the disadvantaged (e.g., in terms of education and

basic needs such as health care). Much of this opposition is not based on

the rejection of a moral principle of equal opportunity, but instead on

poorly-arrived-at empirical views. Some people reject redistributive social

policies on the grounds that they are inevitably ineffective; others rely on

clearly mistaken views about what percentage of the federal budget actually

goes to pay for such programs. That’s not to say that there aren’t good

arguments against some redistributive policies. Some can backfire, and

others (particularly those that benefit the non-poor) can be very expensive.

But sound comparative policy analysis provides no support to a principled

opposition to redistributive social policies. People who defend appalling

social policies often do so on the basis of weak reasoning about factual

matters rather than on the basis of backward moral precepts.

One might think that our call for a more prescriptive, reason-guiding

epistemology is more appropriate for the areas of ‘‘critical thinking’’ or

‘‘informal logic’’ (Feldman 1999, 184–85, n10). The problem with this

suggestion is that these areas, as exemplified in textbooks, are completely

divorced from contemporary epistemology. This bespeaks deep problems

both for critical thinking courses and for contemporary epistemology.

Epistemology, if it is to achieve its normative potential, must make firm

contact with the sorts of reasoning errors that lead to horrendous and

avoidable outcomes. And critical thinking courses must be informed by a

theory about what makes reasoning good or bad. We do not have in mind

a thin epistemological ‘‘theory’’ (e.g., ‘‘premises should be true and support

the conclusion’’) that yields a long list of informal fallacies. Rather, an

effective critical thinking course should be informed by a theory that

(among other things) helps us to recognize, anticipate, and compensate

for our cognitive frailties. In other words, such courses should be informed

by a deeply naturalistic epistemological theory.

We have written this book driven by a vision of what epistemology

could be—normatively reason guiding and genuinely capable of benefiting

the world. If our tone is not always dispassionate, it is because our profession

has so clearly failed to bring the potential benefits of epistemology

to ordinary people’s lives. We are under no illusions, however. This book

is, at best, a modest first step toward the construction of an epistemological

theory with concrete, prescriptive bite. And even if our theory

should be somewhere close to the truth, we are not sanguine about the

potential of philosophy to influence the world. Sometimes, though, life

rewards wild-eyed optimists. If in our case it doesn’t, we fall squarely

within what is best in our philosophical tradition if our reach should

exceed our grasp.