The Strange Case of the Rational Dentist

Clinton gave me a copy of The Philosophy Gym by Stephen Law for Christmas, which is a terrifically simple and erudite little book that canters through 25 philosophical questions that, at some point, have likely pressed the minds of every reader of this blog. Law is particularly thorough with his reasoning, and at no point could you find holes in his rationality or his logic. He asks the questions from, can there be morality without religion? to, could a machine think? But the chapter that's really crawled under my skin is called 'The Strange Case of the Rational Dentist', which tells the story of the dentist who converses with his patients about their lack of consciousness. In essence, the rational dentist argues that he cannot possibly know that anyone but himself actually has a mind. Acquaintances of philosophy will have no doubt heard the reasoning all before, so if I slip up fairly obviously with what I have to say, then let me know. The rational dentist claims that if he cuts a cherry in half and finds a stone, it is unreasonable to assert that, therefore, all cherries have stones in them. Fair enough. If I take a cupful of water from the sea it won't contain any fish, but of course, there are fish in the sea. The cherry analogy maintains that, just because we know ourselves individually to have a mind, we would be hard-pressed to justify our belief that others too must have a mind. If you cut 1000 cherries in half and find a stone every time, no one would have any problem if you concluded that all cherries have stones. Naturally, we can only experience one mind, our own, and so we're in deep water. In the same way that, if someone asked you whether you love your wife, you would have no definitive way of proving it; you would be able to cite a series of examples that arguably constitute love, but that appeals to relative cultural expectations, and not complete objectivity. You'd have a tough time faulting my logic up to this point. However, Law rightly notes that now we can, with the advancement of 21st Century super science, witness the subtle electrical flourishes of certain areas of the brain when we cry or when we laugh, for example. The areas are distinct and vary very little from volunteer to volunteer. This doesn't mean much, but it does give us a leg-up; clearly the brain we own responds to stimulus in the same way as others. This proves nothing, of course, only that we could say we're like organic robots that interpret stimuli and process them through accorded pre-programming. Good so far. He comes my quibble. Law fails to cite some examples that I would raise if in conversation with him, such as, explain the human imagination; explain novels, fiction and poetry; explain human compassion, love between opposites; irrational hatred, irrational fear; musical talent, sporting talent; explain intelligence or even mental illness. I'm sure I could press further, but I see no valid introspection regarding the above. We could delve into arguments of fatalism or determinism, free will, etc. And if a certain Mr Poulter is reading, I look forward to our future philosophical debates. Otherwise, I strongly recommend Law's book - handy for those inconvenient moments of philosophical confrontation.