Adrian Bardon

I've always been curious about time and thought that, maybe the philosophers might be able to shed some light. However,, even after completing a course on the Philosophy of time I was still mystified...maybe even more mystified than before. So maybe Adrian Bardon had the answers in this book? Alas, no. It is pretty much a re-run of the undergrad course that I did in The Philosophy of time. Interesting, yes...especially the history and the distinction between the three attitudes towards time: viz Over the centuries, theories about the nature of time have resolved into three main categories: idealism, realism, and relationism. Idealists believe that time is a merely subjective matter, and nothing in reality corresponds to it. Realists maintain that time is a real thing, a kind of underlying matrix for events. Relationists take something of a middle path; they believe that time is just a way of relating events to each other, but the relations it describes are real.
On Aristotle’s relationist view, time is a mere abstract measure of change. Newton’s theory, by contrast, treats time as a real thing unto itself. With this theory, Newton has fundamentally broken with the Aristotelian perspective holding time to be dependent on change; change is now best described as something that happens in time, even as time itself flows along. For an idealist like Kant, the most accurate way of talking about time would be adverbially, as a way of describing how we experience things. Newton treats time like a thing itself not, indeed, a material substance like a tree, a cow, or a body of liquid, but still something that has noun status. His understanding of time is therefore radically different from either a relationist or idealist conception: This is the return of temporal realism.

Leibniz's alternative is a conception of time and space as a set of relations holding between, respectively, events and objects. He was not a realist, in that he denies that time exists in itself. Neither is he an idealist, in that, like Aristotle, he thinks the time relation is a legitimate category for scientific and mathematical accounts of the universe. Thus we classify Leibniz as a relationist, just like Aristotle; the major difference between the two is that, like Augustine's, Leibniz's conviction about the nature of time is based primarily on a perceived conflict between temporal realism and religious dogma.

However, Leibniz has no convincing explanation for the water's centrifugal effort in Newton's spinning bucket. All Leibniz can say is that, well, such is the nature of circular motion: It exhibits a force that other sorts of motions do not. Newton's laws, in conjunction with his postulation of a universal gravitational force, do a very good job of explaining and predicting observable phenomena.

The question about space tends to be "Is space real?"; whereas the question about time (instead of "Is time real?") often becomes "Does time really pass?" But the latter presupposes the main question. If we want to coherently think of time as a thing that passes, it would seem we need to think of it as a thing, at least in some sense of
'thing’?

Relativity tells us we must think in terms of a real quantity, space-time, in order to address the ancient question of the reality and nature of time. Or, to put it a little more modestly, the stipulation that there is such a thing as space-time works in creating an effective mathematical model of what is going on. Now we need to understand space-time a little better, because we need to get into position to ask the question: Is space-time real?

Spatial distance can be measured by the amount of time it takes light to travel from one point to another; thus the concept of a light-year' (i.e., the distance travelled by a beam of light in one year). This means that there is a deep connection between the measurement of temporal intervals and the measurement of spatial intervals...... spatial distance can be measured by the amount of time it takes light to travel from one point to another; thus the concept of a light-year' (i.e., the distance travelled by a beam of light in one year).

Minkowski came up with a clever way of visually representing space-time, though only from the perspective of a particular observer: the light cone. From a given perspective, all of reality can be divided into three components: one's past light cone, one's future light cone, and ones absolute elsewhere.

Scientific realism is the view that successful scientific theories are to be taken literally: The entities that they describe, both the observable (like comets or three-toed sloths) and unobservable (like electrons or space-time), are to be taken to truly exist as described. The alternative is that the point of fundamental physical science is just to create a model that is essentially pragmatic, in that its purpose is just to help us systematize observations and predict events as we know them (and only as we know them). This alternative to scientific realism is called scientific instrumentalism.

Whether we take physicists' pronouncements about the nature of space-time to be relevant to reality depends on whether we take reality to be the subject matter of physics. The right answer to this will likely be nuanced and may require a modest interpretation of physical theories.

In terms of time and emotion...such as anticipation....all that is really going on is that at 2:15 p.m., I am apprehensive about my imminent tooth extraction; at 2:30 p.m., I am distressed about the pain as my tooth is extracted; and at 2:45 p.m., I am relieved that the experience is over. That's it. This account includes a sequence of appropriate, time-dependent emotional states, without having to be committed to one of these times actually being now and the others as past or future. The absence of any absolute now is perfectly consistent with my having beliefs, at any moment, as to what is 'currently happening, and as to what lies in the past or future.

Re: time with cause and effect: Unfortunately, although the causal analysis of temporal asymmetry may look attractive in some ways, it appears to presuppose the very concept that it aims to explain. The problem is that of coming up with a definition of causation that does not itself rely on the concept of temporal asymmetry. It would seem natural to define a cause as an event that brings about another event, or, alternatively, as an event that precedes another event according to natural laws. But each of these employs the notion of temporal precedence in defining the concept we want to use to analyze temporal precedence. We can't solve this problem by defining a cause either as an event necessitating another, or as an event increasing the probability of another (i.e., A causes B if events of type B always come after events of type A, or if events of type B typically come after events of type A). Remember —as we noted in discussing the thermodynamic arrow-that no sequence of events is truly irreversible according to the laws of nature.

One account of causation views the causal relation as a primitive, unanalyzable notion....... One big problem with holding causation to be primitive, however, is that this would seem to make knowledge of causal relations impossible. As David Hume pointed out, we do not experience causal relations over and above experiencing the related events themselves: All we ever actually experience are associations of events. It is the experience of these sequences of events that leads us to the idea that the events are causally related.

With the diffusion of ink in water. We have talked about how it is possible, if highly unlikely, for such a process to reverse itself and turn into a process of concentration, wherein the ink molecules happen to gather themselves together. [Actually, I’ve seen this done with rotating water and an ink spot....when the rotation is reversed the diffused ink collects back together in a single spot......pretty remarkable!!]. Note how the very description of the thermodynamic probabilities presumes a direction to time. The ink, we say, diffuses....... The statistical tendency toward (as opposed to away from) disorder is only the norm if we have assumed that time has a direction, and that processes tend to become more disorganized in that direction. Even calling a process "diffusion" rather than "collection" betrays the fact we have already established a direction for the process.

Clearly, psychology is the main reason why we tend to assign a particular direction to time. We remember only in one direction (backward") and anticipate in the other ("forward"). Why do things work this way? Why do we remember the past and not the future? At one point, Stephen Hawking proposed that memory and entropy are linked. In forming a memory, we reconfigure our neurons. This creates a local increase in order (within parts of our brain responsible for memory), but only at the expense of a slight expenditure of energy, a dissipation of bodily heat, and an overall entropy increase.

If time travel to the past is consistent with the laws of nature, then past events could be caused by future ones; this would lend further credence to the notion, put forth by Huw Price and others, that the one-way directionality of time is not an inherent aspect of nature.

So far we have only talked about travel into the past. If passage is real, then we travel into the future, so to speak, all the time. We also know, thanks to Einstein's special theory of relativity, that it is really pretty easy to 'slide' into the future simply by accelerating oneself around for a bit before returning to one's point of origin....... So far we have only talked about travel into the past. If passage is real, then we travel into the future, so to speak, all the time..... The more distance one traverses in the spatial dimension of space-time, the less of the temporal dimension one will have traveled, and vice-versa (within certain limits).

Unfortunately for Leibniz, compatibilism doesn't work very well in a theological context, if the point is to defend individual moral responsibility: According to his own understanding of things, God would be the one who intentionally created us with just such a nature that under the circumstances also preordained by God—we would do exactly as predicted. How could God then turn around and hold us responsible for the consequences? For this reason, theists tend to reject compatibilism in favour of a stronger notion of free will....... Kant's fellow German, Arthur Schopenhauer, succinctly expressed the paradox within compatibilism with the aphorism "Man can do what he wills but he cannot will what he wills."

It is indeed hard to accept the notion of a beginning to time.
Wouldn't a beginning to the universe have to be preceded by something that gives rise to it? But then this so-called beginning would not be the beginning of time itself: It would just be something that happens in time.

But it is not clear whether this information [Higg’s field, Higg’s boson] would do anything to address questions that Aristotle and Kant raised about the conjunction of temporal realism with the thesis that the universe had a beginning. If the Big Bang was the beginning of space-time, then space-time had a beginning. To make sense, this needs to be thought of as a beginning to time rather than a beginning in time: One lesson learned from Aristotle is that a beginning of time in time doesn't make any sense. It remains to be seen, though, whether we can make sense of a beginning to time.
One account that would avoid this problem is a version of the multiverse theory, where our universe is a development of, or from, another one inaccessible to us.

According to Bardon, multiverse theory is pretty depressing: In addition to reminding us of our own seeming insignificance in a vast universe, this theory makes our entire universe just a kind of multiverse belch. More to the point, the multiverse idea is both implausible and unhelpful when it comes to understanding time. First, the proposed existence of these other universes has no observational consequences, and the principle of parsimony in science (also known as 'Occam's razor') suggests that we should not posit any entities or phenomena not necessary to explain what we observe. Unnecessarily positing an infinity of other universes appears to constitute the ultimate violation of this principle, until and unless the multiverse is shown to be the best explanation for some data before us or shown to be strongly implied by a well-confirmed theory.*

Second, it is not clear—at least in the context of this discussion—that the notion of 'another' universe makes any sense: If it exists, is it not part of the universe by definition? There are other, technical contexts in which the notion of multiple universes may be useful, but it remains to be seen whether any such context would be pertinent to the fundamental philosophical question about time.

It is indisputable that the conclusions we have already reached about time do not mean that we should (or even can) abandon our ordinary ways of thinking about time, given that our experience of it is inherent to perceptual and emotional awareness.

Building on what we have learned from the history of the philosophy of time, I would propose the following: If an answer to the question "What is time?" still seems to elude us, perhaps it is because we have been asking the wrong question. Time is not so much a 'what' as a 'how,' and not so much a question as an answer. Time as we know it in experience is a matter of how we adaptively organize our own experiences; in a physical and cosmological context, it is a matter of how we can most successfully model the universe of occurrences. As such, time is an answer: a solution to the problem of organizing experience and modelling events.

So who is right, the relationist, the idealist, or the realist? The answer lies partly in seeing that each position has something to be said for it.
Relationists have a point in that much of what we have to say about time has to do with our mode of organizing and relating events. In that sense, you could call time a kind of relation. The measurement of time is possible only in terms of observed motions or changes, such as the orbit of the Earth. It is for this reason, as relationist P. J. Zwart points out, that we say (albeit only metaphorically) that "time stands still" in a place where nothing changes...... Idealists are right in that our grasp of time will always be mediated by our way of understanding things. Temporal experience is a kind of construction, rather than a mere reflection of nature. We can never penetrate to the sheer, naked reality of things as they are in themselves, unmediated by the conditions under which we experience things...... Realists, however, get support from the fact that there are, objectively, more and less successful models of reality...... The goal of the physical scientist is to find the most comprehensive and effective theory of nature. A theory that treats space-time as real exhibits a good 'ft' with observation in the limited sense that it is simpler while yielding wide-ranging explanatory and predictive power........ It is true that we can never know the universe or its laws independently of the conditions under which we can experience them. Yet the guidance we are able to glean from reality—via the experimentally confirmed replacement of inferior models of nature with superior ones —means that, despite inescapable limitations, we can hope to move closer to the truth. This fact makes some kind of realism about time, and a continued commitment to related ontological questions, defensible and even fruitful.

Regarding the nature of time itself, results in logic and physics entitle us to speak authoritatively in terms of a static space-time continuum.
At the same time, philosophy by examining the necessary conceptual presuppositions of experience), together with various empirical studies (such as neuroscience, psychology, evolutionary studies, and even social sciences like anthropology), can clarity the nature of, and limitations on, our experience of time.
These studies can validate our projective and irreducible experiencing of time as dynamic, as long as such validation is understood in the proper context.

The philosophical study of time and time awareness has yielded other substantive achievements. Zeno's challenges, for example, help us clarify what we mean by change and motion. Philosophical questions about temporal experience show us what to look for as we study time perception in the brain. The logical analysis of the dynamic theory of time bolsters the physical case for the static theory and helps us distinguish between real phenomena with respect to time awareness versus mere conceptual presuppositions; it also leads to important hypotheses about time awareness for evolutionary theory to pursue. The philosophical analysis of proposed explanations of time's directionality tells us what would or would not count as a scientific solution. A philosophical examination of the logical possibility of altering the past, in combination with a physical understanding of space-time, tells us what sort of time travel is possible. Chrysippus' conceptual analysis of freedom, together with an appreciation of the static theory of time, shows us what free will can (and cannot) amount to; this discussion, furthermore, needs to be taken into account in the application of the concepts of responsibility and justice in social contexts.

So Bardon more or less ends up with a bit of a damp squib....Space time gives us some good answers but doesn’t appear to be the complete answer and he gives lip service to a whole host of other disciplines without really demonstrating that they have anything solid to offer. So I’m not much further ahead than I was with my undergrad course. Pity. Still not a bad book. I give it four stars.… (mais)

Throughout the centuries, according to Adrian Bardon, the central issue in thinking about time has been whether time actually exists: is time tangible, as all kinds of language expressions (“time is running”, “I have time”) and our intuitive experience suggest? Is it not just a mental construction with which we (unconsciously) make order in chaotic reality? Or is time pure fiction and is there only a permanently shifting present? Dozens of philosophers and scientists have broken their brains on this issue and have taken up contradictory positions.
Bardon nicely takes stock of the discussion, in a very didactic and relatively accessible story. And, happily, his horizon is very wide. Of course, Parmenides, Aristotle and Augustine are discussed, how could it be otherwise. But Bardon also examines what the positive sciences have contributed to the debate. And I don't just mean the physics of the last centuries, especially Newton, Einstein, Planck and Hawking, but also human sciences such as cognitive psychology and neurology. The author explores their findings, theories and models, in a balanced argument. Occasionally he takes a side path that to me wasn’t really necessary, such as his parenthesis on the free will discussion or on the idle question of whether time travel is possible.
His carefully formulated final conclusion, which leaves room for different approaches (relationalistic, idealistic and realistic), will not satisfy everyone, especially those looking for black-and-white answers, but it is wise. It also opens up the prospect of progress, a slowly better understanding of what time is, and thus also reality, especially by asking new (philosophical) questions over and over again.
For a more elaborate review, see my History account on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/2831252746… (mais)

Adrian Bardon’s book can be recommended to anyone interested in the philosophy of time, albeit with a few caveats. It is written in an accessible and lively style that helps bring the often abstract issues to life. It also manages to cover a remarkable diversity of topics in its 180 pages, discussing not only the passage of time and absolute versus relational theories of time, but also time travel, free will and the temporal boundedness of the universe. Taking its inspiration from physics as well as philosophy, and from authors ranging across the ages, it gives the reader an inspiring taste of the problems that philosophers of time have wrestled with in the past and will undoubtedly continue to wrestle with in the future.

To the caveats. The first is that the title of the book is misleading. Bardon’s book is not a history of the philosophy of time; rather, it is a historically informed introduction to the philosophy of time. While there are discussions of authors from many ages, including Zeno, Aristotle, Leibniz, Newton and Kant, the book is fundamentally an exploration of contemporary issues. There is no attempt to tell a chronological story, to traces influences or to put ideas into their historical contexts. Bardon is not a historian – he is a philosopher of time, and he is, sensibly, taking on board historical authors whenever they can contribute something to our understanding. This is no way diminishes the book, but if you are looking for what the title promises, you might be disappointed.

The second caveat is that although the book ranges widely over history and over subtopics, it is narrow in certain other ways. Obviously, much must be left out in a short work – and even in a long work – but two omissions are especially notable and impact the story that the book is telling. The first is the neglect of the phenomenological or continental tradition. Hegel, often thought of as the first great philosopher to see man as historically situated, is not mentioned in the book, and neither are Bergson and Heidegger. Husserl appears only in a single throwaway reference. Given the book’s conclusion that the way we experience time is completely at odds with the real nature of time as revealed by the natural sciences, discussing philosophers who put the experience rather than natural science at the centre of their philosophical methodology would surely have been useful. For the same reason, it is somewhat disappointing that Bardon seems to take physics and neuroscience very seriously as sources of knowledge about time, but gives no thought at all to history and anthropology. It is at times hard not to suspect hints of scientism. More about this later.

The third caveat is that the book contains a serious mistake in its discussion of special relativity. A clear example of the mistake can be found on pages 71-72, where Bardon suggests that observers in different frames of reference will have different ideas about which interval are space-like and which are time-like. But this is false; indeed, being space-like, light-like or time-like is precisely what is invariant under changes in inertial coordinate system. The mistake has no serious bearing on the author’s arguments, but it should have been guarded against in an introductory book like this.

The final and most interesting caveat is this: Bardon is no dispassionate observer recording the ideas of philosophers of time, but an interested party in the debate who is not shy of taking up a position himself. It turns out that he defends a static B-theory of time in which there is no intrinsic directionality and the sense of passage is just a psychological illusion projected onto the block universe. That is fine; Bardon taking up a position makes the book more interesting, and he is generally careful to present both sides of an argument. But perhaps he is not careful enough. As a philosopher with very different, indeed diametrically opposed, ideas about time, I cannot help feeling that in some instances, crucial ideas and approaches are given short shrift or are left out completely. This is perhaps most obvious in the case of compatibilism and incompatibilism about free will, where Bardon concludes in just a few sentences that incompatibilism is incoherent, without actually engaging with any incompatibilist theories. (For instance, the subject of agent-causation is not broached.)

But the most important instance is in the discussion of passage, which forms the heart of the book. Here, Bardon tells us that physics and logic decide against the dynamic conception of time; and he concludes from this that our experience of dynamic time must be a merely subjective projection. Of course one can disagree with the premise. But suppose it is true. The the question remains: why take physics and logic more seriously than human experience? The worry is not only that as human projects physics and logic too are built on human experience (though this worry becomes very acture once we see that Bardon believes that causation too belongs to the subjective projection, which seems incoherent, since projection is surely a causal concept). The worry is also that physics and logic have been designed for specific purposes and that their very design might make them unsuitable for comprehending the phenomenon of passage – so that rather than give up our most fundamental ideas about time as an illusion, we should rethink the status of physics and logic. A great example of this is Dummett’s 1960 article on McTaggart, in which he suggests that the phenomenon of passage might force us to give up the assumption that there is a single complete description of reality, which is an assumption that underlies the logical argument against passage. While exploring such issues might have been too much for the book to take on, it would have been good to mention the possibility. The reader should not walk away believing that natural science automatically trumps all other sources of knowledge.… (mais)