Epistemology

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Epistemic Circularity

An epistemically circular argument defends the reliability of a source of belief


by relying on premises that are themselves based on the source. It is a
widely shared intuition that there is something wrong with epistemically
circular arguments.
William Alston, who first used the term in this sense, argues plausibly that
there is no way to know or to be justified in believing that our basic sources
of belief--such as perception, introspection, intuitive reason, memory and
reasoning--are reliable except by using such epistemically circular
arguments. And many contemporary accounts of knowledge and
justification allow our gaining knowledge and justified beliefs by relying on
such arguments. Indeed, any account that accepts that a belief source can
deliver knowledge (or justified beliefs) prior to one's knowing (or believing
justifiably) that the source is reliable allows this. It allows our knowing the
premises of an epistemically circular argument without already knowing the
conclusion, and using the argument for attaining knowledge of the
conclusion. Still, we have the intuition that any such account makes
knowledge too easy.
In order to avoid too easy knowledge via epistemic circularity, we need to
assume that a source can yield knowledge only if we first know that it is
reliable. However, this assumption leads to the ancient problem of the
criterion and the danger of landing in radical skepticism. Skepticism could
be avoided if our knowledge about reliability were basic or noninferential. It
could also be avoided if we had some sort of "non-evidential" entitlement to
taking our sources to be reliable. Both options are problematic.
One might think that we have to allow easy knowledge and some epistemic
circularity because it is the only way to avoid skepticism. If we do so,
however, we still need to explain what is then wrong with other
epistemically circular arguments. One possible explanation is that they fail
to be dialectically effective. You cannot rationally convince someone who
doubts the conclusion of the epistemically circular argument, because such
a person also doubts the premises. Another possible explanation is that
such arguments fail to defeat a reliability defeater: if you have a reason to

believe that one of your sources of belief is unreliable, you have a defeater
for all beliefs based on the source. You cannot defeat this defeater and
regain justification for these beliefs by means of epistemically circular
arguments. Yet, there are still disturbing cases in which you do not doubt
the reliability of a source; you are just ignorant of it. The present account
allows your gaining knowledge about the reliability of the source too easily.
Thus there seems to be no completely satisfactory solution to the problem of
epistemic circularity. This suggests that the ancient problem of the criterion
is a genuine skeptical paradox.
Table of Contents
1.

Alston on Epistemic Circularity

2.

Epistemic Failure

3.

Easy Knowledge and the KR Principle

4.

Coherence and Reflective Knowledge

5.

The Problem of the Criterion

6.

Basic Reliability Knowledge

7.

Wittgenstein, Entitlement and Practical Rationality

8.

Sensitivity

9.

Dialectical Ineffectiveness and the Inability to Defeat Defeaters

10.

Epistemology and Dialectic

11.

References and Further Reading

1. Alston on Epistemic Circularity


When Descartes tried to show that clear and distinct perceptions are true by
relying on premises that are themselves based on clear and distinct
perceptions, he was quickly made aware that there was something viciously
circular in his attempt. It seems that we cannot use reason to show that
reason is reliable. Thomas Reid [1710-1796] (1983, 276) pointed out that
such an attempt would be as ridiculous as trying to determine a man's
honesty by asking the man himself whether he was honest or not. Such a
procedure is completely useless. Whether he were honest or not, he would
of course say that he was. All attempts to show that any of our sources of
belief is reliable by trusting its own verdict of its reliability would be
similarly useless.

The most detailed characterization of this sort of circularity in recent


literature is given by William Alston (1989; 1991; 1993), who calls it
"epistemic circularity." He argues that there is no way to show that any of
our basic sources of belief--such as perception, intuitive reason,
introspection, memory or reasoning--is reliable without falling into
epistemic circularity: there is no way to show that such a source is reliable
without relying at some point or another on premises that are themselves
derived from that source. Thus we cannot have any noncircular reasons for
supposing that the sources on which we base our beliefs are reliable. What
kind of circularity is this?
Alston (1989; 1993, 12-15) takes sense perception as an example. If we wish to
show that sense perception is reliable, the simplest and most fundamental
way is to use a track-record argument. We collect a suitable sample of
beliefs that are based on sense perception and take the proportion of truths
in the sample as an estimation of the reliability of that source of belief. We
rely on the following inductive argument:
At t1, S1 formed the perceptual belief that p1, and p1 is true.
At t2, S2 formed the perceptual belief that p2, and p2 is true.
.
.
.
At tn, Sn formed the perceptual belief that pn, and pn is true.
Therefore, sense perception is a reliable source of belief.
How are we to determine whether the particular perceptual beliefs
mentioned in the premises are true? The only way seems to be to form
further perceptual beliefs. Thus the premises of the track-record argument
for the reliability of sense perception are themselves based on sense
perception. The kind of circularity involved in this argument is not logical
circularity because the conclusion that sense perception is reliable is not
used as one of the premises. Nevertheless, we cannot consider ourselves
justified in accepting the premises unless we assume that sense perception
is reliable. Since this kind of circularity involves commitment to the

conclusion as a presupposition of our supposing ourselves to be justified in


accepting the premises, Alston calls it epistemic circularity.
Epistemic circularity is thus not a feature of the argument as such. It relates
to our attempt to use the argument to justify the conclusion or to arrive at a
justified belief by reasoning from the premises to the conclusion. In order to
succeed, such attempts require that we be justified in accepting the
premises. According to Alston, we cannot suppose ourselves to be justified
in holding the premises unless we somehow assume the conclusion. He
explains our commitment to the conclusion dialectically: "If one were to
challenge our premises and continue the challenge long enough, we would
eventually be driven to appeal to the reliability of sense perception in
defending our right to those premises. (1993, 15)
Surprisingly, Alston (1989; 1993, 16) argues that epistemic circularity does
not prevent our using an epistemically circular argument to show that sense
perception is reliable or to justify the claim that it is. Neither does it prevent
our being justified in believing or even knowing that sense perception is
reliable. This is so if there are no higher-level requirements for justification
and knowledge, such as the requirement that we be justified in believing
that sense perception is reliable. If we can have justified perceptual beliefs
without already being justified in believing that sense perception is reliable,
we can be justified in accepting the premises of the track-record argument
and using it for attaining justification for the conclusion.
Alston does not suggest that there are higher-level requirements for
knowledge and justification. His account of justification is a form of generic
reliabilism that do not make such requirements. According to such
reliabilism,
S's belief that p is justified if and only if it has a sufficiently reliable causal
source.
If reliabilism is true, we can very well be justified in believing the premises
of the track-record argument without being justified in believing the
conclusion. It merely requires that the conclusion be, in fact, true. If sense
perception is reliable along with other relevant sources--such as
introspection and inductive reasoning--we can be justified in accepting the

premises and thus arrive at a justified belief in the conclusion by reasoning


inductively from the premises. Moreover, nothing prevents our coming to
know the conclusion by means of such reasoning.
What, then, is wrong with epistemically circular arguments? This is what
Alston states:
Epistemic circularity does not in and of itself disqualify the argument. But
even granting this point, the argument will not do its job unless
weare justified in accepting its premises; and that is the case only if sense
perception is in fact reliable. This is to offer a stone instead of bread. We can
say the same of any belief-forming practice whatever, no matter how
disreputable. We can just as well say of crystal ball gazing that if
it is reliable, we can use a track-record argument to show that it is reliable.
But when we ask whether one or another source of belief is reliable, we are
interested in discriminating those that can be reasonably trusted from
those that cannot. Hence merely showing that if a given source is reliable it
can be shown by its record to be reliable, does nothing to indicate that the
source belongs to the sheep rather that with the goats. (1993, 17)
This is puzzling. Earlier Alston grants that, assuming reliabilism, we can use
an epistemically circular track-record argument to show that sense
perception is reliable. Now he is suggesting that such an argument shows at
most the conditional conclusion that if a given source is reliable it can be
shown by its record to be reliable. This seems merely to contradict the point
he already granted.
We can make sense of this if we distinguish between two kinds of showing.
When Alston talks about showing he usually has in mind something we
could call "epistemic showing." Showing in this sense requires a good
argument with justified premises. If we have such an epistemically circular
argument for the reliability of sense perception, we can show the categorical
conclusion that sense perception is reliable. Assuming that reliabilism is
true and that sense perception, introspection and induction are reliable
processes, the premises of the track-record argument are surely justified,
and the justification of the premises is transmitted to the conclusion. If this
is all that is required for showing, then epistemic circularity does not
disqualify the argument.

There is another sense of showing, that of "dialectical showing." Showing in


this sense is relative to an audience, and it requires that we have an
argument that our audience takes to be sound, otherwise we would be
unable to rationally convince it. If we assume that our audience is skeptical
about the reliability of sense perception, it is clear that we cannot convince
such an audience with an epistemically circular argument. This is so
because the audience would also be skeptical about the truth of the
premises. Assuming that our audience is skeptical only about perception
and not about introspection and induction, we can only show to such an
audience Alston's hypothetical conclusion: if sense perception is reliable, we
can show--in the epistemic sense--that it is.
Whether this is what Alston has in mind or not, it is one possible diagnosis
of the failure of epistemically circular arguments. Although they may
provide justification for our reliability beliefs, they are unable to rationally
remove doubts about reliability. They are not dialectically effective against
the skeptic.

2. Epistemic Failure
The problem of epistemic circularity derives from our intuition that there is
something wrong with it. Many philosophers have expressed doubts that
this intuition is completely explained by dialectical considerations. The fault
seems to be epistemic rather than just dialectical. Richard Fumerton (1995)
and Jonathan Vogel (2000) argue that we cannot gain knowledge and
justified beliefs by means of epistemically circular reasoning. They conclude
that any account of knowledge or justification that allows this must be
mistaken. Their target is reliabilism in particular. Fumerton writes:
You cannot use perception to justify the reliability of perception! You
cannot use memory to justify the reliability of memory! You
cannot useinduction to justify the reliability of induction! Such attempts to
respond to the skeptic's concerns involve blatant, indeed pathetic,
circularity. Frankly, this does seem right to me and I hope it seems right
to you, but if it does, then I suggest you have a powerful reason to conclude
thatexternalism is false. (1995, 177)

If the mere reliability of a process is sufficient for giving us justification, as


reliabilism entails, then we can use it to obtain a justified belief even about
its own reliability. According to Fumerton, this counterintuitive result
shows that reliabilism is false.
Vogel (2000, 613-623) gives the example of Roxanne, who has a car with a
highly reliable gas gauge and who believes implicitly what the gas gauge
indicates, without knowing that it is reliable. In order to gain knowledge
about the reliability of the gauge, she undertakes the following procedure.
She looks at the gauge often and forms a belief not only about how much gas
there is in the tank, but also about the reading of the gauge. For example,
when the gauge reads 'F', she believes both that the gauge reads 'F' and that
the tank is full. She combines these beliefs into the belief:
(1) On this occasion, the gauge reads 'F' and the tank is F.
Surely, the perceptual process by which Roxanne forms her belief about the
reading of the gauge is reliable, but so is, by hypothesis, the process through
which she reaches the belief that the tank is full. Roxanne's belief in (1) is
thus the result of a reliable process. She then repeats this process on several
occasions and forms beliefs of the form:
(2) On this occasion, the gauge reads 'X' and the tank is X.
From a representative set of such beliefs, she concludes inductively that:
(3) The gauge is reliable.
Because induction is also a reliable process, the whole process by which
Roxanne reaches her conclusion is reliable. Thus reliabilism allows that in
this way she gains knowledge that the gauge is reliable.
Vogel assumes that this process, which he calls bootstrapping, is illegitimate
and concludes that reliabilism goes wrong in improperly ratifying
bootstrapping as a way of gaining knowledge.
We have an intuition that there is something wrong with this sort of
epistemically circular reasoning. Here, it is difficult to explain the intuition
in terms of some sort of dialectical failure because there is nobody who is

questioning the reliability of the gauge and who needs to be convinced


about the matter. It is merely assumed that Roxanne did not originally
know that it was reliable. It follows from reliabilism that she can gain this
knowledge by this sort of bootstrapping, which is contrary to our intuitions.

3. Easy Knowledge and the KR Principle


Epistemic circularity is not only a problem for reliabilism. As Alston pointed
out, any epistemological theory that does not set higher-level requirements
for knowledge or justified belief is bound to allow epistemic circularity. The
problem is that such a theory makes knowledge and justified belief about
reliability intuitively too easy.
Stewart Cohen (2002) argues that any theory that rejects the following
principle allows knowledge about reliability too easily:
KR: A potential knowledge source K can yield knowledge for S, only if S
knows K is reliable.
Theories that reject this KR principle allow that a belief source can deliver
knowledge prior to one's knowing that the source is reliable. Cohen calls
such knowledge "basic" knowledge. (Note that he uses the phrase in a
nonstandard way.) Theories that allow for basic knowledge can appeal to
our basic knowledge in order to explain how we know that our belief sources
are reliable:
According to such views, we first acquire a rich stock of basic knowledge
about the world. Such knowledge, once obtained, enables us to learn how
we are situated in the world, and so to learn, among other things, that our
belief sources are reliable. (2002, 310)
In obtaining such knowledge of reliability we reason in a way that is
epistemically circular. The problem is that we gain knowledge too easily.
It is not only reliabilism that rejects the KR principle: there are other
currently popular theories that do so. For example, evidentialism makes
knowledge a function of evidence. An evidentialist who denies the KR
principle allows that one can know that p on the basis of evidence E without
knowing that E is a reliable indication of the truth of p. Such evidentialism

allows our gaining knowledge of reliability through epistemically circular


reasoning.
However, the principle does not seem to be strong enough because even
some theories that accept it do not avoid epistemic circularity, and thus
make knowledge too easy. The KR principle, as Cohen formulates it, does
not make any requirements about epistemic order. It does not require in
particular that knowledge about the reliability of source K be prior to (or
independent of) knowledge based on K. It allows that we gain both kinds of
knowledge simultaneously.

4. Coherence and Reflective Knowledge


According to holistic coherentism, knowledge is generated simultaneously
in the whole system of beliefs once a sufficient degree of coherence is
achieved. It is clear that meta-level beliefs about the sources of belief and
their reliability can increase the coherence of the whole system of beliefs. So
coherentism that requires such a meta-level perspective into the reliability
of the sources of belief satisfies the KR principle: I can know that ponly if I
also know that the source of my belief that p is reliable.
However, as James Van Cleve (2003, 55-57) points out, coherentism does
not avoid the problem of easy knowledge. It allows that we gain knowledge
through epistemically circular reasoning. The steps by which we gain such
knowledge may be exactly the same as in the foundationalist version. The
only difference is that when, according to foundationalism, knowledge is
first generated in the premises and then transmitted to the conclusion,
coherentism makes it appear simultaneously in the premises and in the
conclusion. The fact that knowledge is not generated in the premises until
the conclusion is reached does not make it less easy to attain knowledge.
Ernest Sosa (1997) suggests that we can resolve the problems of circularity
by his distinction between animal knowledge and reflective knowledge, but
as both Cohen (2002, 326) and Van Cleve (2003, 57) point out, Sosa's
account allows knowledge about reliability too easily. Animal knowledge is
knowledge as it is understood in simple reliabilism: it requires just a true
and reliably formed belief. So it does not satisfy the KR principle and allows

easy knowledge. We can attain animal knowledge about the reliability of a


source through epistemically circular reasoning.
Sosa's point is that reflective knowledge satisfies the principle. In addition
to animal knowledge, it requires a coherent system of beliefs that includes
an epistemic perspective into the reliability of the sources of belief. So a
source delivers reflective knowledge for me only if I know that the source is
reliable, yet it is still true that the epistemically circular track-record
argument provides all the ingredients needed for such reflective knowledge.
I attain animal knowledge about the reliability of perception by reasoning
from my animal knowledge about the truth of particular perceptual beliefs.
Once I have attained this knowledge, my system of beliefs also achieves a
sufficient degree of coherence that transfers my animal knowledge into
reflective knowledge. All this happens still too easily. It happens in fact as
easily as before. The only difference is the points at which different sorts of
knowledge are attained. The reasoning itself is exactly the same.
It seems that we can avoid allowing easy knowledge only by strengthening
the KR principle. It must require that knowledge of the reliability of source
K be prior to knowledge based on K. We must know that the source is
reliable independently of any knowledge based on the source. The problem
with coherentism and Sosa's account is that they reject this strengthened
KR principle, and this is why they make knowledge too easy.

5. The Problem of the Criterion


By affirming the strengthened KR principle we avoid the easy-knowledge
problem but are in danger of falling into skepticism. The strengthened
principle leads to the ancient problem of the criterion.
were puzzled about the disagreements that
prevailed about any object of inquiry. They insisted that, in order to resolve
these disagreements and to attain any knowledge, we need criteria that
distinguish beliefs that are true from those that are false. However, there
are also disagreements about the right criteria of truth. In order to resolve
these disagreements and to know what the right criteria are, we need to
know already which beliefs are true--the ones the criteria are supposed to
pick out. We are thus caught in a circle.
Ancient

Pyrrhonian

skeptics

If we understand the right criteria of truth as reliable sources of belief-sources that mostly produce true beliefs--we arrive at the following
formulation of the problem of the criterion:
(1) We can know that a belief based on source K is true only if we first know
that K is reliable.
(2) We can know that K is reliable only if we first know that some beliefs
based on source K are true.
Assumption (1) is a formulation of the strengthened KR principle. Together
with assumption (2), it leads to skepticism: we cannot know which sources
are reliable nor which beliefs are true. To be sure, (2) does not require us to
know that beliefs based on K are true through K itself; we can rely on some
other source. However, (1) posits that this other source can deliver
knowledge only if we first know that it is reliable, and (2) that, in order to
know this, we need to know that some beliefs based on it are true. In order
to know this, in turn, we once again have to rely on some third source, and
so on. Because we cannot have an infinite number of sources, sooner or
later we have to rely on sources already relied on at some earlier point. We
are thus reasoning in a circle, and circular reasoning is unable to provide
knowledge.
The circle we are caught in is not epistemic. It is a straightforwardly logical
circle. It is clear that a logical circle does not produce knowledge. Such a
circle is nowhere connected to reality. Thus in trying to avoid epistemic
circularity, we are caught in a more clearly vicious circle--a logical circle.
It is natural to think that epistemic circularity is the lesser evil. If we only
have the alternatives of making knowledge too easy or impossible, most
philosophers would surely choose the former. This may be the motivation
behind currently popular reliabilist and evidentialist epistemologies that
deny higher-level requirements for knowledge, but are these really our only
options? Could we not reject assumption (2) instead of (1)?

6. Basic Reliability Knowledge


One might concede that a source can give us knowledge only if we first know
that it is reliable, but still deny that this knowledge of reliability must in

turn be inferred from some other knowledge. One might insist instead that
our knowledge about our own reliability is basic or noninferential. This
would break the skeptic's circle.
Thomas Reid (1983, 275) seems to be the traditional advocate of this
position. He takes it as a first principle that our cognitive faculties are
reliable. He states that first principles are self-evident: we know them
directly without deriving them from some other truths (257). How is it
possible to know directly a generalization that is only contingently true? It
may be easy to see how we can directly know a generalization, such as "All
triangles have three angles," which is a necessary truth: we can simply see
its truth through a priori intuition. However, we cannot simply see that our
faculties are reliable. The faculty of a priori reason does not give us
knowledge of contingent generalizations.
Reid (259-260) posits that there is a special faculty for knowing the first
principles, which he calls common sense. Thus, common sense tells us that
our faculties are reliable. However, it cannot give us knowledge unless we
first know that it is reliable. How can we know this? The only available
answer seems to be that we also know this through common sense.
(Bergmann 2004, 722-724) There is a serious problem if we assume the
skeptic's strengthened KR principle. This entails that we can know that
common sense is reliable only if we first know that it is reliable. We must
know it before we know it, which is impossible. We avoid this result if we go
back to Cohen's original KR principle (Van Cleve, 2003, 50-52), but then we
face epistemic circularity once again.
According to the Reidian view, knowledge about the reliability of our
faculties is basic, and the source of it is common sense. However, common
sense delivers this knowledge only if it is itself known to be reliable. If we
accept Cohen's original KR principle and deny the skeptic's requirement
that this knowledge be prior to other knowledge delivered by common
sense, we allow that common sense delivers simultaneously basic
knowledge about the reliability of our faculties and about the reliability of
common sense itself. This is a coherent position.
However, this Reidian view allows one kind of epistemic circularity.
Although it is not quite the same kind as in the track-record argument, it

allows that we can know that a faculty is reliable by using that very same
faculty. The only difference is that this is basic knowledge and not
knowledge based on reasoning. It seems that this view makes knowledge
about reliability even easier than before.
If we wanted to determine whether to trust a guru, we could construct an
inductive argument based on the premises about the truth of what he says
and leading to the conclusion that he is reliable. If our belief in the premises
is itself based on what he tells us, our argument is epistemically circular. It
seems that this cannot be a way of gaining knowledge about his reliability in
that it would be intuitively too easy. It would be even easier to base our
belief in his reliability on his simply saying that he is reliable. If we cannot
gain knowledge through epistemically circular reasoning, how could we gain
it by taking this more direct route?

7. Wittgenstein, Entitlement and Practical


Rationality
Let us grant that we somehow presuppose the reliability of our sources of
belief when we form and evaluate beliefs. What kind of normative status do
these presuppositions have if they cannot have the status of basic
knowledge? Many philosophers have been inspired by Wittgenstein's last
notebooks published as On Certainty (1969, 341-343):
K the questions that we raise and our doubts depend upon the fact that
some propositions are exempt from doubt, are as it were like hinges on
which they turn.
That is to say, it belongs to the logic of our scientific investigations that
certain things are indeed not doubted.
But it isn't that the situation is like this: We just can't investigate
everything, and for that reason we are forced to rest content with
assumption. If I want the door to turn, the hinges must stay put.
The idea is that in every context of inquiry there are certain propositions
that are not and cannot be doubted. They are the hinges that must stay put
if we are to conduct inquiry at all. According to Wittgenstein, these hinge

cannot be justified, neither can we know them. They are the


presuppositions that make justification and knowledge possible.
propositions

Wittgenstein ( 163, 337) suggests that such hinge propositions include


propositions about the reliability of our sources of belief. This explains why
we cannot gain knowledge about reliability through epistemically circular
reasoning, because we cannot have such knowledge at all. Wittgenstein may
have thought so because he took hinge "propositions to have no factual
content and thus to be neither true nor false. Thus our concepts of
knowledge and justification would not apply to them. However, this view is
not very intuitive. Surely the sentence "Sense perception is reliable" appears
to express a genuine proposition that is either true or false. If it does express
such a proposition, we can have doxastic attitudes to the proposition, and
these attitudes can be evaluated epistemically.
Crispin Wright (2004) follows Wittgenstein but takes hinge propositions to
be genuine propositions that are epistemically evaluable. He provides an
account of the structure of justification that explains why the justification of
the premises in certain valid arguments does not transmit to the conclusion.
Although the epistemically circular track-record argument is an inductive
argument, the same account explains the transmission failure here.
According to Wright's account, we cannot be justified in accepting the
premises of Alston's track-record argument unless we are already justified
in accepting the conclusion that sense perception is reliable. This is why the
justification we may have for the premises does not transmit to the
conclusion: it presupposes a prior justification for the conclusion. Thus
Wright accepts a version of the skeptic's strengthened KR principle, which
effectively blocks epistemically circular reasoning.
He then tries to avoid skepticism by distinguishing between ordinary
evidential justification and non-evidential justification he calls
"entitlement." In order to form justified perceptual beliefs, we must already
be entitled to take it for granted that sense perception is reliable. However,
because this entitlement is a kind of unearned justification that requires no
evidential work, we can break the skeptic's circle.

Wright's entitlement is not based on sources of justification, such as


perception, introspection, memory or reasoning. We get it by default, which
is why the KR principle does not apply to it. Thus it avoids the problem of
the Reidian account.
Unfortunately, it has its own problems. One of these concerns the nature of
entitlement. According to Wright, it is a kind of rational entitlement, but
what kind is it? This is how he comments on certain of Wittgenstein's
passages:
I take Wittgenstein's point in these admittedly not unequivocal passages to
be that this is essential: one cannot but take certain such things for granted.
(2004, 189)
This line of reply concedes that the best sceptical arguments have
something to teach us--that the limits of justification they bring out are
genuine and essential--but then replies that, just for that reason, cognitive
achievement must be reckoned to take place within such limits. The attempt
to surpass them would result not in an increase in rigour or solidity but
merely in cognitive paralysis. (2004, 191)
Wright argues here that we cannot but take certain things for granted. In
order to engage in inquiry and to form justified beliefs, one must accept
certain presuppositions. Refusing to do that would mean cognitive
paralysis. As Duncan Pritchard (2005) comments, this seems to be a
defense of the practical rationality of assuming that the sources of one's
beliefs are reliable. Nothing is said for the truth of those presuppositions or
of the epistemic rationality of accepting them.
Alston defends more explicitly the practical rationality of taking our sources
of belief to be reliable:
In the nature of the case, there is no appeal beyond the practices we find
ourselves firmly committed to, psychologically and socially. We cannot look
into any issue whatever without employing some way of forming and
evaluating beliefs; that applies as much to issues concerning the reliability
of doxastic practices as to any others. Hence there is no alternative to

employing the practices we find to be firmly rooted in our lives, practices we


could abandon or replace only with extreme difficulty if at all. (1993, 125)
Alston adds that the suspension of all belief is not an option, and that there
is no reason to substitute our firmly established doxastic practices for some
new ones because neither would there be any noncircular defense of these
new practices. Alston makes it quite clear that this is a defense of the
practical rationality of engaging in firmly established practices and taking
them to be reliable.
However, this defense of the practical rationality of taking our sources of
belief to be reliable does not contradict skepticism. In posing the problem of
the criterion, the skeptic is not denying the practical rationality of our using
the practices that we in fact use. What he or she is denying is the epistemic
rationality or justification of the beliefs produced by them. That it would be
practically rational for us to assume that the practices are reliable and that
they therefore produce justified beliefs is not something the skeptic would
deny.
Alston (2005, 240-242) has since rejected this practical validation
argument for our sources of belief and settled for a simpler form of
Wittgensteinian contextualism. Now he does not tell what kind of
entitlement we have to the hinge propositions about the reliability of our
sources. Perhaps there is no entitlement, and we just have to blindly trust in
their reliability. How, then, does this differ from skepticism?
Curiously enough, neither Wright nor Alston really avoid the allowing of
epistemic circularity. Alston even underlines the fact that epistemically
circular arguments can produce justification for our beliefs about reliability.
His point seems to be that whether this in fact happens is something that we
can have only practical reasons for assuming, which does not really explain
what is wrong with these arguments.
According to Wright, the justification of the premises does not transmit to
the conclusion if it requires that we already be independently justified in
accepting the conclusion. However, because this independent justification is
a different sort of non-evidential justification--entitlement--it is unclear
why the argument fails in transmitting evidential justification. Assuming

that the entitlements are already in place--that we are entitled to take


introspection, sense perception and inductive reasoning to be reliable-nothing prevents our also gaining evidential justification for the conclusion
that sense perception is reliable. At least nothing in Wright's account does
so.
Thus the appeal to default entitlement or practical rationality does not solve
our problem: it does not avoid epistemic circularity. At the same time, it
may be too concessive to skepticism.

8. Sensitivity
It is possible to reject the KR principle without allowing epistemic
circularity. One might simply deny--as Wittgenstein does--that we have any
knowledge about our own reliability. One could defend this view--as
Wittgenstein does not do--on the basis of the sensitivity condition of
knowledge. Analyses of knowledge as defended by Fred Dretske (1971)
and Robert Nozick (1981) set the following necessary condition for S's
knowing that p:
Sensitivity: if it were not true that p, S would not believe that p.
According to Cohen (2002, 316), our beliefs about the reliability of our
sources of belief do not satisfy this condition. Assume that we form a belief
in the reliability of sense perception on the basis of epistemically circular
reasoning. According to the sensitivity condition, we cannot know on this
basis that sense perception is reliable if we believed on this basis that it is
reliable even if it were not reliable. It seems that this is exactly what is
wrong with such arguments: they would cause us to believe that a source is
reliable even if it were not. A guru would tell us that he is reliable even if he
were not.
The sensitivity condition concerns the possible worlds in which our belief is
false but which are otherwise closest to the actual world. Alvin Goldman
(1999, 86) suggests that the relevant alternative to the hypothesis that
visual perception is reliable is that visual perception is randomly unreliable.
If this is the case in the closest possible worlds in which our belief in the
reliability of visual perception is false, it may be that we can, after all, know

that visual perception is reliable, because in these worlds it would produce a


massive amount of inconsistent beliefs, and therefore we would not believe
that it is reliable. So, are the worlds in which visual perception is randomly
unreliable the closest unreliability worlds? It may be rather that the closest
worlds are those in which visual perception is systematically unreliable, and
in these worlds we believe that it is reliable. If this is the case, the sensitivity
accounts explain very well the intuition that we cannot gain knowledge
through epistemically circular reasoning.
Sensitivity accounts of knowledge have not been popular in recent years
because they deny the intuitively plausible principle that knowledge is
closed under known logical implication. However, as Cohen (2002) has
shown, this principle has counterintuitive consequences as does the denial
of the KR principle. It allows cases in which we gain knowledge too easily,
and perhaps we should therefore accept a sensitivity account that can
handle both problems at once. However, a more serious problem is that
there are cases of inductive knowledge that do not satisfy the sensitivity
condition (Vogel, 1987).

9. Dialectical Ineffectiveness and the Inability to


Defeat Defeaters
Arguments are dialectical creatures, so it is natural to evaluate them in
terms of their dialectical effectiveness. We have seen already that
epistemically circular arguments are poor in this respect. They are not able
to rationally convince someone who doubts the conclusion because such a
person also doubts the premises. Such arguments therefore fail to be
dialectically effective. It could be suggested that this is enough to explain
our intuition that there is something wrong with them, and that they need
not involve any epistemic failure. (Markie 2005; Pryor 2004)
When it is a question of one's own self-doubts, we could even allow a kind of
epistemic failure. Let us assume that I have doubts about the reliability of
my color vision: I believe that my color vision is not reliable, or I have
considered the matter and have decided to suspend judgment about it. This
doubt is a defeater for my color beliefs: it defeats or undermines my
justification for them. Now it seems clear that I cannot defeat this defeater
and regain my justification for these beliefs through epistemically circular

reasoning. Such reasoning would rely on those very same beliefs for which I
have lost the justification. It is unable to defeat reliability defeaters.
(Bergmann 2004, 717-720)
We can thus readily explain the failure of epistemically circular arguments
in cases in which there are serious doubts about reliability. They fail to
remove these doubts. However, as the case of Roxanne shows, dialectical
ineffectiveness and the failure to defeat defeaters cannot be the only things
that are wrong with epistemic circularity. Neither Roxanne nor anybody
else doubts her gas gauge; she is just ignorant about its reliability. She has
no knowledge or justified beliefs about the matter. Our intuition is that she
cannot gain knowledge or justified beliefs about the reliability of the gauge
through the process of bootstrapping.

10. Epistemology and Dialectic


Although the term "epistemic circularity is of recent origin, the
phenomenon itself has been well known since the ancient skeptics. Ancient
Pyrrhonian skeptics argued that we should suspend belief unless we can
resolve the disagreements that there are about any object of inquiry. We
could try to resolve these disagreements by relying on reliable sources of
belief. Unfortunately, we cannot do this because there is also a
disagreement about which sources are reliable, and this disagreement must
be resolved first. However, we cannot resolve this disagreement because it
would be dialectically ineffective to defend a set of such sources by
appealing to premises that are themselves based on them. This is something
that the skeptics most emphatically condemned. (Lammenranta 2008)
They also assumed that this sort of failure to resolve disagreements was not
merely dialectical. It also prevented our having knowledge. If we should
suspend belief about some question, we would certainly not know what the
correct answer is. In connecting epistemology closely to dialectic, skeptics
were just following the ancient tradition of Plato and Aristotle. This
tradition continued in Descartes and early modern philosophy, and seems
to be alive even today among the followers of John L. Austin, Ludwig
Wittgenstein, and Wilfrid Sellars.

In spite of this influential tradition that connects epistemology closely with


dialectic, the mainstream of contemporary analytic epistemology takes
epistemology to be independent of dialectical issues. Accordingly, we may
very well know even if we cannot rationally defend ourselves against those
who disagree with us. After all, our sources of belief may, in fact, be reliable,
and if this is the case they will provide us with reasons for believing that
they are reliable and that those who disagree with us are wrong.
However, most of us have the intuition that it would be too easy to gain
knowledge about our own reliability in this way. Perhaps the intuition
shows that epistemology is more closely connected to dialectic than is
currently acknowledged. This would explain our uneasiness with epistemic
circularity and show that the ancient problem of the criterion is a genuine
skeptical paradox for which we still lack a plausible solution.

Epistemic Closure Principles


Epistemic closure principles state that the members of an epistemic set
(such as propositions known by me) bear a given relation (such as known
deductive entailment) only to other members of that epistemic set. The
principle of the closure of knowledge under known logical entailment is that
one knows everything that one knows to be logically entailed by something
else one knows. For instance, if I know grass is green, and I know thatgrass
is green deductively entails that grass is green or the sky is blue, then I
know that grass is green or the sky is blue. Epistemic closure principles are
employed in philosophy in myriad ways, but some theorists reject such
principles, and they remain controversial.
Some people see closure principles as capturing the idea that we can add to
our store of knowledge by accepting propositions entailed by what we know;
others claim that this is a misunderstanding, and that closure principles are
silent as to how a piece of knowledge is, or can be, acquired. For instance,
the proposition I have a drivers license issued by the state of North
Carolina entails that North Carolina is not a mere figment of my
imagination. According to the principle that knowledge is closed under
known entailment, if I know the former claim, and I know the entailment, I
know the latter claim. Some insist, however, that this must be distinguished

from the (possibly) false claim that I could come to know the latter on the
basis of my knowing the former, since my basis for knowing the former
involves presupposing the latter (by taking my sense experience and
memory at more or less face value, for instance).
Closure principles are employed in both skeptical and anti-skeptical
arguments. The skeptic points out that if one knows an ordinary common
sense proposition (such as that one has hands) to be true, and knows that
this proposition entails the falsity of a skeptical hypothesis (such as that one
is a handless brain in a vat, all of whose experiences are hallucinatory), one
could know the falsity of the skeptical hypothesis, in virtue of knowledge
being closed under known entailment. Since one cannot know the falsity of
the skeptical hypothesis (or so the skeptic maintains), one also must not
know the truth of the common sense claim that one has hands.
Alternatively, the anti-skeptic might insist that we do know the truth of the
common sense proposition, and hence, in virtue of the closure principle, we
can know that the skeptical hypothesis is false. Although the closure
principle is sometimes used by anti-skeptics, some view the rejection of
closure as the key to refuting the skeptic.

1. The Closure of Knowledge under Known


Entailment
a. The Closure of Knowledge Under Entailment
A set is closed under a particular relation if all the members of the set bear
the relation only to other members of the set. The set of true propositions is
closed under entailment because true propositions entail only other truths.
Since false propositions sometimes entail truths, false propositions are not
closed under entailment. Epistemic closure principles state that members of
an epistemic set (such as my justified beliefs) are closed under a given
relation (which may be a non-epistemic relation, like entailment, or an
epistemic one, such as known entailment).
A simple closure principle is the principle that knowledge is closed under
entailment:
If a subject S knows that p, and p entails q, then S knows that q.

Less schematically, this says that if one knows one thing to be true and the
known claim logically entails a second thing, then one knows the second
thing to be true. This principle has obvious counter-examples. A
complicated theorem of logic is entailed by anything (and hence by any
proposition one knows), but one may not realize this and may thus fail to
believe (or even grasp) the theorem. Since one must at least believe a
proposition in order to know that it is true, we see that one may fail to know
something entailed by something else that one knows. Additionally, even if
a proposition is entailed by something one knows, if one comes to believe
the proposition through some epistemically unjustified process, one will fail
to know the proposition (since ones belief of it will be unjustified). For
instance, if one knows that one will start a new job today and then comes to
believe that one will either start a new job today or meet a handsome
stranger based on the testimony of her astrologist, then perhaps she will fail
to know the truth of the entailed disjunction.
b. The Closure of Knowledge Under Known Entailment
It is more plausible that knowledge is closed under known entailment:
If S knows that p, and knows that p entails q, then S knows that q.
As stated, however, the principle seems vulnerable to counter-examples
similar to the ones just discussed. The subject might fail to put his
knowledge that p together with knowledge that p entails q and thus fail to
infer q at all. One might know that she has ten fingers and that if she has ten
fingers then the number of her fingers is not prime, but simply not bother to
go on to deduce and form the belief that her number of fingers is not prime.
Alternatively, although the subject could have come to believe q by inferring
it correctly from something else that she knows (since she is aware of the
entailment), she instead might have come to believe q through some other,
epistemically unjustified, process.
How can we capture the idea that one can add to ones store of knowledge
by recognizing and assenting to what is entailed by what one already
knows? This formulation seems suitably qualified:

If S knows that p, and comes to believe that q by correctly deducing it from


her belief that p, then S knows that q.
Less formally, if I know one thing, correctly deduce another thing from it,
and come to believe this second thing by so deducing it, then I know the
second thing to be true. This principle eliminates counterexamples in which
the subject fails to believe the entailed claim (and thus fails to know it) or
comes to believe the entailed claim for bad reasons (and thus fails to know
the claim). (Henceforth, uses in this article of the phrase the principle of
closure of knowledge under known entailment should be regarded as
referring to this preferred formulation of the principle).
So much is built into the antecedent of this principle that it might now seem
trivial but, as we shall see, it has been disputed on various grounds.
c. Justification, Single-Premise and Multiple-Premise Closure
We would seem to have similar grounds for supposing that justified belief is
closed under known entailment. One is epistemically justified in believing
whatever one correctly deduces from ones justified beliefs. This captures
the idea that one way to add to ones store of justified beliefs is to believe
things entailed by your justified beliefs. When one reasons validly, the
justification that one has for the premises carries over to the conclusion.
The mere fact that justification is (ordinarily taken to be) one of the
necessary conditions for knowledge does not strictly entail that justification
is closed under the same operations (such as known entailment) that
knowledge is closed under. As Steven Hales (1995) has pointed out, to argue
in this manner is to commit the fallacy of division: to infer from the fact that
a whole thing has a particular quality, that each of its components must
have this quality as well. For instance, it does not follow from the fact that
the glee club is loud that each, or even any, of the individual singers in the
glee club is loud. Knowledge might be closed under known entailment even
if justified belief is not, if all the counterexamples to the closure of
justification were examples in which the justified belief was missing at least
one of the necessary conditions for knowledge. There seems to be no
particular reason to believe that this is the case, however. (See Brueckner
2004 for more on this point).

The closure principles discussed thus far are instances of single premise
closure. For instance, ones knowledge that a given particular premise is
true, when combined with a correct deduction from that premise of a
conclusion, seems to guarantee that one knows the conclusion. There are
alsomultiple premise closure principles. Here is an example:
If S knows that p and knows that q, and S comes to believe r by correctly
deducing it from p and q, then S knows that r.
That is, if I know two things to be true and can deduce a third thing from
the first two, then I know the third thing to be true. There is good reason to
be dubious of multiple premise closure principles of justification, such as
If S is justified in believing that p and justified in believing that q, and S
correctly deduces r from p and q, then S is justified in believing that r.
Lottery examples reveal the difficulty. Given that there are a million lottery
tickets and that exactly one of them must win, it is plausible (though not
obvious) that for any particular lottery ticket, I am justified in believing that
it will lose. So I am justified in believing that ticket one will lose, that ticket
two will lose, and so forth, for every ticket. But if I know that there are a
million tickets, and I am justified in believing each of a million claims to the
effect that ticket n will lose and I can correctly deduce from these claims
that no ticket will win, then by closure I would be justified in concluding
that no ticket will win, which by hypothesis is false. Justified belief is
fallible, in that one can be justified in believing something even if there is a
chance that one is mistaken; conjoin enough of the right sort of justified but
fallible beliefs and the resulting conjunction will be unlikely to be true, and
thus unjustified.
If knowledge, like justified belief, is fallible (say, only 99.9% certainty is
required), then multiple premise closure principles for knowledge will fail
as well. One could be sufficiently certain for knowledge about each of a
thousand claims (I will not die today; I will not die tomorrow; ; I will
not die exactly 569 days from today; etc.), but not sufficiently certain of the
conjunction of these claims (I will not die on any of the next thousand
days) in order to know it, even though it is jointly entailed by those

thousand known claims (and thus true). The fallibility of knowledge is far
more controversial than the fallibility of justified belief, however.
Similarly, closure might be thought to hold for different types of knowledge,
such as a priori knowledge (i.e. knowledge not gotten through sense
experience, to oversimplify a bit). If one knows a priori that p, and knows a
priori that p entails q, then one knows a priori that q. Intuitively, it seems
that if one knows the premises of an argument a priori and is able to validly
deduce a conclusion from those premises, one would know the conclusion a
priori as well. This last point is on weaker ground, however, as discussed
in Section 5b.

2. Philosophical Uses of the Closure Principle


The closure principle, now qualified to handle the straightforward
counterexamples, has been employed in skeptical and anti-skeptical
arguments, in support of a dogmatic refusal pay attention to evidence that
counts against what one knows, to generate a paradox about selfknowledge, and for many other philosophical ends. These uses are
described in brief in this section, and in greater detail in later sections.
The skeptic may argue as follows:
1.

I do not know that I am not a handless, artificially stimulated brain in a vat.

2.

I do know that I have hands entails I am not a handless, artificially


stimulated, brain in a vat.

3.

If I know one thing, and I know that it entails a second thing, then I also know
the second thing. (Closure)

4.

Thus, I do not know that I have hands. (From 2 and 3, if I knew I had hands I
would know that I am not a brain in a vat, in contradiction with 1).

If one really knew the ordinary common sense claim to be true, one could
deduce the falsity of the skeptical claim from it and come to know that the
skeptical claim is false (by closure). The fact that one cannot know that the
skeptical claim is false (as per the first premise) demonstrates that one does
not in fact know that the common sense proposition is true either. (See
also Contemporary Skepticism).

But one persons modus tollens (the inference from if p then q and not-q to
the conclusion not-p) is another persons modus ponens (the inference
from if p then q and p to the conclusion q), as we can see from an antiskeptical argument of the sort associated with G.E. Moore. (See Moore
1959).
1.

I know that I have hands.

2.

I know that I have hands entails I am not a handless, artificially stimulated,


brain in a vat.

3.

If I know one thing, and I know that it entails a second thing, then I also know
the second thing. (Closure)

4.

Thus, I know that I am not a handless, artificially stimulated brain in a vat.

From the fact that one knows that she has hands and this is incompatible
with a skeptical hypothesis under which her hands are illusory, one can
infer, and thus come to know (if closure is correct), the falsity of the
skeptical hypothesis.
The closure principle can be used even in defense of a dogmatic rejection of
any recalcitrant evidence that counts against something that one takes
oneself to know. The argument runs as follows (adapted from Harman
1973):
1.

I know my car is parked in Lot A. (Assume)

2.

I know that if my car is parked in Lot A, and there is evidence that my car is
not parked in Lot A (say, testimony that the car has been towed), then the evidence is
misleading. (Analytic, since evidence against a truth must be misleading)

3.

Thus, I know that any evidence that my car is not parked in Lot A is
misleading. (Closure)

4.

I know that there is evidence that my car is not parked in Lot A. (Assume)

5.

Thus, I know that this evidence (testimony that my car was towed) is
misleading. (Closure)

6.

If a piece of evidence is known by me to be misleading, then I ought to


disregard it. (Analytic)

7.

Thus, I ought to disregard any evidence that my car is not parked in Lot A.
(From 5 and 6)

This result seems paradoxical, however, as most would claim that it is


epistemically irresponsible to ignore all the evidence against what one takes
oneself to know, simply because it is evidence against what one takes
oneself to know. It is plausible (though hardly obvious) that one takes
oneself to know each thing that one believes (considered individually). If
this is conjoined with the argument above, it entails that one ought to
ignore any evidence against what one believes. This seems to be an even
more ill-considered policy.
The closure principle also figures prominently in a paradox about selfknowledge and knowledge of the external world. It is now widely accepted
that some thought contents are individuated externally. That is, there are
some thought contents that one could not have unless one was in an
environment or linguistic community that is a certain way. On this view,
one could not think the thought that water is wet were one not in an
environment with water, or at least with some causal connection to water.
Given content externalism, it seems we may argue as follows (the argument
is due to McKinsey 1991):
1.

I know that I have mental property M (say, the thought that water is wet).
(Assume privileged access to ones own thoughts)

2.

I know that if I have mental property M (the thought that water is wet), then I
meet external conditions E (say, living in an environment containing water).
(Externalism with respect to content)

3.

If I know one thing, and I know that it entails a second thing, then I know the
second thing. (The principle of the closure of knowledge under known entailment).

4.

Thus, I know that I meet external conditions E (namely, that I live in environs
containing water). (From 1, 2 and 3)

The conclusion follows from an application of the closure principle, but


what makes this paradoxical is that it appears that the knowledge that is
attributed in the premises depends on reflection alone (introspection plus a
priori reasoning), whereas the knowledge attributed in the conclusion is
empirical. If the premises are correct, and closure holds, I can know an
empirical fact by reflection alone (since I know it on the basis of premises
than can be known by reflection alone). Something seems to have gone
wrong and it is unclear which premise, if any, is the culprit.

Closure principles figure in another philosophical puzzle about knowledge


of ordinary propositions, those we ordinarily take ourselves to know, and
lottery propositions, those that, although extremely likely, we do not
ordinarily take ourselves to know. Suppose that one is struggling to get by
on a pensioners income. It seems plausible to say that one knows one will
not be able to afford a mansion on the French Riviera this year. However,
that one will not be able to afford the mansion this year entails that one will
not win the lottery. By the closure principle, since one knows that one will
not be able to afford the mansion, and knows that this entails that one will
not win the lottery, one must know that one will not win the lottery.
However, very few are inclined at accept that one knows one will not win
the lottery. After all, theres a chance one could win.

3. Externalist Accounts of Knowledge and the


Rejection of Closure
a. Epistemic Externalism and Internalism
To determine whether someone is epistemically justified in believing
something, one must do so from a particular point of view. One may
consider the point of the view of the agent who holds the belief or of
someone who possesses all the relevant information (which may be
unavailable to the agent). To oversimplify, those who consider only the
subjects perspective when evaluating the subjects epistemic justification
are epistemic internalists, and those who adopt the point of view of one with
all the relevant information are epistemic externalists. An account of
epistemic justification is internalist if it requires that all the elements
necessary for an agents belief to be epistemically justified are cognitively
accessible to the agent; that is, these elements (say, evidence or reasons)
must be internal to the agents perspective. Externalist theories of
justification, on the other hand, allow that some of the elements necessary
for epistemic justification (such as a beliefs being produced by a process
that makes it objectively likely to be true) may be cognitively inaccessible to
the agent and external to the agents perspective.
There are so many varieties of internalism and externalism that further
generalization is perilous. Considering the theories respective treatments of
the problem of induction illustrates the basic difference between them.

Hume famously argued that although we rely on inductive inferences, we


have access to no non-question begging justification for doing so, as our
only grounds for thinking that induction will continue to be reliable is that it
always has been reliable. This is an inductive justification of the belief that
induction is epistemically justified. If Hume is right, then a typical
internalist will concede that beliefs based on inductive reasoning are not
epistemically justified. An externalist, however, might insist that such
beliefs are justified, provided that inductive reasoning as a matter of fact is
a process that reliably produces mostly true beliefs, whether the agent who
reasons inductively has access to that fact or not. On the other hand, an
epistemic internalist might rate the beliefs of a brain in a vat or a victim of
Cartesian evil demon deception as epistemically justified, provided that they
were formed in a way that seems reasonable from the point of the view of
the agent (the brain in a vat), such as through the careful consideration of
evidence (evidence, albeit, that is misleading). The epistemic externalist,
however, likely would rate such an agents beliefs as unjustified, on the basis
of evidence not accessible to the agent, such as that the belief-forming
processes she relies on make her beliefs extremely likely to be false.
For the most part, internalist accounts of knowledge are those that appeal to
an internalist conception of epistemic justification and externalist accounts
of knowledge employ an externalist conception of justification.
(Alternatively, one may be an internalist about justification and an
externalist about knowledge, by rejecting the view that epistemic
justification is one of the requirements for knowledge.) Perhaps the greatest
challenge to closure principles for knowledge comes from externalist
theories of knowledge, notably those of Robert Nozick and Fred Dretske.
b. Nozicks Tracking Account of Knowledge and the Failure of
Closure
It strikes many that some version of the closure principle must be true. The
idea that no version of the principle is true is, according to one noted
epistemologist, one of the least plausible ideas to come down the
philosophical pike in recent years. (Feldman 1995) Nevertheless,
philosophers have argued against the epistemic closure principle on many
different grounds. One serious challenge to closure arose from those who
proposed the tracking analysis of knowledge (notably Nozick 1981).

According to the tracking theory, to know that p is to track the truth of p.


That is, ones true belief that p is knowledge if and only if the following two
conditions hold: if p were not the case, one would not believe that p, and
if p were the case, one would believe that p. For ones belief that p to be
knowledge, ones belief must be sensitive to the truth or falsity of p; that
sensitivity is captured by the two subjunctive conditions above. One knows
that Albany is the capital of New York only if one would not believe it if it
were false, and would believe it if it were true. (See also Robert Nozick's
epistemology).
This is an externalist theory of knowledge because whether or not an agent
satisfies the subjunctive conditions for knowledge may not be cognitively
accessible to the agent. To evaluate an agents belief, with respect to
whether it meets those conditions, it may be necessary to adopt the point of
view of someone with information not accessible to the agent.
Lets illustrate this with an example similar to Nozicks own (1981, 207).
Let p be the belief that one is sitting in a chair in Jerusalem. Let q be the
belief that ones brain is not floating in a tank on Alpha Centauri, being
artificially stimulated so as to make one believe one is sitting in a chair in
Jerusalem. Suppose one has a true belief that p. In the closest
counterfactual situations (to employ the terminology of one account of
truth-conditions for subjunctives) in which p is false (say, one is standing in
Jerusalem, or one is sitting in Tel Aviv), one will not believe p. In close
counterfactual situations in which one is sitting in Jerusalem, one does
believe that p. Ones belief of p tracks the truth of p and thus counts as
knowledge.
Suppose, on the other hand, that one has a true belief that q. If ones belief
that q were false, however (and one really was in this predicament on Alpha
Centauri), one would still believe (falsely) that one was not in Alpha
Centauri (q). Ones belief that q, while actually true, does not track the truth
of q (being held when q is true but not when q is false). Hence, the belief
that q does not count as knowledge.
How does this relate to the closure of knowledge? The proposition that one
is sitting in Jerusalem (p) entails that ones brain is not floating in a tank in
Alpha Centauri, being stimulated so as to make one think that one is sitting

in Jerusalem (q). We may suppose that one can correctly deduce qfrom p.
Even so, since ones belief that p tracks the truth of p and counts as
knowledge and ones belief that q does not do so, knowledge fails to be
closed under known entailment. One may know that p, and know
that p entails q (and come to believe the latter by correctly deducing it from
the former), and yet fail to know that q.
Nozicks account has at least two virtues. One is that the tracking analysis of
knowledge is plausible. The other is that the rejection of closure allows us to
reconcile the following two claims, both of which seem plausible but had
seemed incompatible: (1) we do know many common sense propositions,
such as that I have hands, and (2) we do not know that skeptical
hypotheses, such as that I am a handless, artificially stimulated brain in a
vat, are false. One desideratum of a theory of knowledge is that it refutes
skepticism while accounting for the plausibility and persuasiveness of the
skeptics case against common sense knowledge claims. Both the skeptic
and the Moorean anti-skeptic come up short here. The skeptic must deny
our common sense knowledge claims and the Moorean must maintain that
we can know the falsity of skeptical hypotheses. As long as we accept the
closure principle, whether we are skeptics or anti-skeptics, we cannot
maintain both that we know common sense propositions and that we do not
know that the skeptical hypotheses are false, since we know that the
common sense propositions entail the falsity of the skeptical propositions.
Knowledge of the truth of the common sense claims would, if knowledge is
closed under known entailment, guarantee our knowledge that skeptical
hypotheses are false. Citing our failure to know that skeptical hypotheses
are false, the skeptic applies modus tollens and infers that we must not
know the common sense propositions. The rejection of closure blocks this
move by the skeptic.
This is not to say that there are not plausible counterexamples to the
tracking account of knowledge. I may know my mother is not the assassin
since she was with me when the assassination took place. But
counterfactually, if she were the assassin, I would still believe she was not,
since after all I couldnt believe such a thing of my mother. My belief that
my mother is not the assassin fails to track the truth, since I would have
believed it even if it were false, but it seems quite plausible that I do know

shes not the assassin, as my evidence for her innocence is quite


overwhelming my mother cannot be in two places at once. Tracking
accounts like Nozicks, which do not make reference to the reasons the
agent has for the belief in question, seem vulnerable to such
counterexamples.
c. Dretskes Externalist Account of Knowledge and Closure
Failure
Dretskes account of knowledge is as follows: ones true belief that p on the
basis of reason R is knowledge that p if only if (i) ones belief that p is based
on R and (ii) R would not hold if p were false. Less formally, we may put
this as follows: one knows a given claim to be true only if one has a reason
to believe that it is true, and one would not have this reason to believe it if it
were not true. (See Dretske 1971). This is an externalist account because
whether an agent meets conditions (i) and (ii) above may be inaccessible to
the agent. One could believe a claim on the basis of a particular reason
without being able to explain ones reliance on that reason, and without
knowing whether one would still have the reason if the claim were false. For
instance, one might believe that ones toes are curled on the basis of
proprioceptive evidence (evidence that one would not have if ones toes
were not curled), without one having any idea what proprioception is, what
sort of evidence one has for the claim that ones toes are curled, or whether
one would have such evidence even if ones toes were uncurled.
Lets illustrate Dretskes account with his famous zebra example (Dretske
1970). Suppose one is in front of the zebra display at the zoo. One believes
that one is seeing zebras on the basis of perceptual evidence. Furthermore,
in the closest possible worlds in which one is not seeing zebras (where the
display is of camels or tigers), one would not have that perceptual evidence.
Consequently, one knows that one is now seeing zebras, on the basis of the
perceptual evidence one is having. Consider, however, the belief that one is
not now seeing mules cleverly disguised by zoo staff to resemble zebras.
Whatever ones reason for believing this claim (say, that it is just very
unlikely that the zoo would deceive people in that fashion), one would still
have this reason even if the belief were false (and one was seeing mules
cleverly disguised to look like zebras). Hence, one would not know that one
is not now seeing mules cleverly disguised to resemble zebras.

As with Nozicks account, this provides a counterexample to the closure of


knowledge. One can know that one is now seeing zebras, one can correctly
deduce from this that one is not now seeing mules cleverly disguised to
resemble zebras, and yet fail to know that one is not now seeing mules
cleverly disguised to resemble zebras. Furthermore, Dretskes account
better handles the counterexample to Nozicks theory. One believes (truly)
that ones mother is not the assassin, on the grounds that one was with
ones mother at the time the assassination happened (and that mother
cannot be in two places at once) and one would not have this reason to think
mother innocent if she were indeed the assassin. Thus, one knows that ones
mother is not the assassin, since the evidence is absolutely conclusive,
despite the fact that if ones mother were the assassin, one would still
believe that she wasnt, on the basis of a different, bad reason.
Even Dretskes account is plausibly vulnerable to counterexample. Suppose
that one believes correctly at noon on Tuesday that Jones is chair of ones
department, on the basis of the typical sort of evidence (say, recollection of
Jones being installed in the position, the departments website listing Jones
as chair, and so forth). Suppose that at five minutes past noon on Tuesday,
Jones is suddenly struck dead by a bolt of lightning (and is consequently no
longer chair). Did one know at noon, five minutes prior to the death, that
Jones was the chair? Since one would have had that same set of reasons to
believe at noon that Jones was chair even in the closest possible worlds in
which he was not chair at noon (that is, worlds in which hed been struck
dead by lightning five minutes before noon), one does not actually know at
noon that Jones is the chair. Those who find this verdict implausible (that
is, those who think one does know on the basis of the typical evidence that
Jones is the chair, right up until the moment that Jones suddenly is struck
dead and stops being the chair), may find Dretskes account of knowledge
wanting. (The example is adapted from Brueckner and Fiocco 2002).
Further justification of Dretskes for denying closure is that there are other
sentential operators that are not closed under known entailment and
behave in many respects like the knowledge operator. (See Dretske 1970).
Dretske defines a sentential operator O to be fully penetrating when O(p) is
closed under known entailment. That is, O is penetrating if and only if: O(p)
entails O(q) if p is known to entail q. It is true that is a penetrating

operator, since, if p is known to entail q, it is true that p must entail it is


true that q. It is surprising that is non-penetrating; although it is
surprising that tomatoes are growing on the apple tree, it is not surprising
that something is growing on the apple tree. Some operators are semipenetrating. An operator is semi-penetrating when it penetrates only to a
certain subset of a given propositions entailments.
For instance, R is an explanatory reason for seems to be a semipenetrating operator. Within a range of cases, if p is known to entail q,
then R is an explanatory reason for p entails R is an explanatory reason
for q. A reason that explains why Bill and Harold are invited to every party
necessarily is a reason why Harold is invited to every party. Similarly,
knows that seems to penetrate through similar entailments; if one knows
that Bill and Harold are invited to every party, then one knows that Harold
is invited to every party.
However, R is an explanatory reason for my painting the walls green need
not entail R is an explanatory reason for my painting the walls. Depending
on the context, a reason that explains why I painted my walls green may be
a reason why I did something entailed by my painting the walls green, such
as my not painting the walls red, but may not be a reason why I did
something else entailed by my painting the walls green, such as my
not wallpapering the walls green. The emphasis is crucial. A reason to paint
the walls green is a reason not to paint them red, but may not be a reason to
paint rather than wallpaper. A reason to paint the walls green may be a
reason not to paint the floor green, but it might be neutral as to the color.
Consideration of ordinary demands for reasons shows that emphasis, or
other contextual factors, determines a certain range of reasons to be
relevant and a certain range irrelevant. The same reason will not suffice to
explain each of the following: I bought tomatoes, I bought tomatoes and
I bought tomatoes, even though these three sentences entail and are
entailed by exactly the same claims, since they are logically equivalent.
Dretske says that no fact is an island and that various contextual factors will
determine, for each operator, its relevant alternatives (i.e. the negations of
the consequents to which the operator penetrates). (See also Contextualism in
Epistemology, Chapter 3, on Dretske and the denial of closure ).
d. Abominable Conjunctions

On the other hand, some philosophers view the closure principle as so


obviously true that, rather than reject it to accommodate a given theory of
knowledge, they would reject the account of knowledge in order to keep
closure. Dretske's account of knowledge has been much discussed in the
philosophical literature. One consequence of this rejection of closure in
favor of his account that hardly seems felicitous is that one could truly say,
I know that that animal is a zebra and I know that zebras are not mules,
but I dont know that that animal is not a cleverly disguised mule. Or, I
know I have hands, and I know that if I have hands I am not handless, but I
dont know that I am not a handless brain in a vat. Worse yet, I know it is
not a mule, but I dont know its not a cleverly disguised mule. These claims
(abominable conjunctions, according to DeRose 1995) sound at best
paradoxical and at worst absurd. This seems to point to the extreme
plausibility of some form or another of the closure principle.
Dretske (2005a, 17-18) agrees that such statements sound absurd, but
maintains that they are true. They may violate conventional conversational
expectations and they may be met with incomprehension, but they are not
self-contradictory. Empty and flat are often taken to be absolute
concepts (since to be empty is to not contain anything at all and to be flat is
to have no bumps), but also context-relative, in that whether a particular
item counts as a thing or a bump depends on the context. It sounds a bit
strange to say that the warehouse is empty, but has lots of dust, gas
molecules, and empty crates in it. The utterance may violate conversational
rules, but the utterance might, despite all that, be true, if the concepts of
emptiness and flatness are as described. So too with the abominable
conjunctions if the attendant conception of knowledge is correct.
Philosophers may always appeal to Gricean conversational implicatures to
blunt the objection that their view entails absurd claims. Truth and
conversational propriety are not one and the same. (Paul Grice is the
philosopher most closely associated with the view that communication is
guided by various conversational maxims and that some utterances are
conversationally inappropriate, even if true, because they invite
misunderstanding. For instance, the utterance Mary insulted her boss and
she was fired, is true even if Mary did not insult her boss until after she was
fired, but it would be an inappropriate remark in most contexts, since the

listener naturally would conclude that the insult preceded the dismissal. For
more on this, seeGrice 1989).
John Hawthorne (2005: 30-31) makes two points in reply. First, he says, it
is unclear what sort of Gricean mechanism could make it true but
conversationally inappropriate to utter "S knew that p and correctly
deduced q from p, but did not know that q." Second, an appeal of this sort
can at best explain why we do not utter certain true propositions, but not
why we actually believe their negations. Even if it is true that ones wife is
his best friend, it would be inappropriate for him to introduce her to
someone as his best friend. But the conversational mechanism at play here
could hardly be an explanation for why he believed that his wife was not his
best friend (even though she was). Why, if the denial of closure is true but
conversationally infelicitous, do so many not only not deny closure in
conversations but in fact believe that the closure principle is true?
One might reply that many people, even philosophers, are apt in some
situations to mistake what is conversationally appropriate for what is true
(as with conditional claims that have false antecedents), so an explanation
of why a true claim violates conversational norms might well explain why
people believe the negation of the claim.
e. Alternative Anti-Skeptical Strategies Need Not Reject Closure
There are alternative strategies for refuting skepticism that seem to have
many of the virtues of the tracking account of knowledge, but do not entail
the falsity of closure principles. Contextualism, for example, says that
knowledge attributions are sensitive to context, in that a subject S might
know a proposition p relative to one context, but simultaneously fail to
know that p relative to another context. The contextual factors to which
knowledge attributions are taken to be sensitive include things like whether
a particular doubt has been raised or acknowledged and the importance of
the belief being correct.
In an ordinary context, where skeptical scenarios have not been raised, the
standards for knowledge are quite low, but, in contexts in which skeptical
doubts have been raised, such as an epistemology class, standards for
knowledge have been raised to levels that typically cannot be met. One

might know relative to the everyday context that she has hands, but fail to
know this relative to the skeptics context, because a skeptical scenario has
been raised and she cannot rule it out.
Or a true belief with a certain level of justification might count as knowledge
as long as it is not terribly important that the belief be correct, but would no
longer be knowledge if the stakes were raised. One might know that the
bank will be open on Saturday after confirming that the bank has Saturday
hours, even if one has not checked whether the bank has changed its hours
in the past two weeks, as long as no great harm will befall one if it turns out
one is wrong. But if financial ruin will befall one were a check not deposited
before Monday, then ones justification might need to be stronger before it
would be correct to say that one knows the bank is open Saturday.
The contextualist then can reconcile the intuitions that it is sometimes
correct to attribute to someone knowledge of everyday common sense
propositions, despite her inability to rule out skeptical propositions, and
that we are sometimes correct in refusing to attribute knowledge of the
falsity of a skeptical scenario when the subject is unable to rule out such
scenarios. But the contextualist can do this while accepting at least some
version of closure. The contextualist says that epistemic closure holds
within an epistemic context, but fails inter-contextually. For instance, in the
everyday, low epistemic standards context, one knows that one has hands
and anything that one can correctly deduce from this claim, such as that one
is not a handless being deceived into thinking that one has hands. In the
context with much higher epistemic standards, one knows neither that one
is not a handless, artificially stimulated brain in a vat, nor (by an application
of the closure of knowledge under known entailment) that one has hands.
Closure will fail only when it extends across contexts. For instance, if one
were to cite ones knowledge that one has hands (in the ordinary context) as
grounds for saying in the heightened context that one knows that the brain
in a vat hypothesis is false (as the Moorean might), one would illegitimately
apply the closure principle. The skeptic's citing ones failure to know the
falsity of the skeptical hypothesis (in the heightened context) as entailing
that one does not know the common sense proposition (in the ordinary
context) would be a similar misuse of the closure principle.

If a theory of knowledge is independently plausible and can answer the


skeptic without denying closure, then, everything else being equal, we ought
to be reluctant to reject closure just so that we can accept the tracking
account of knowledge. Contextualism, of course, is plagued with problems
of its own. One such problem is as follows: since whether one knows a claim
or not depends on how stringent the epistemic standards are in the context
and the standards can be raised by a particular doubt occurring to someone
in the context, contextualism seems to imply that it is easier to know things
if one spends time with the stupid or incurious or if one is stupid or
incurious.
The plausibility of the denial of closure may well depend not only on
whether it is a way to avoid skepticism, but on whether it is the only way to
do so. (Dretske does insist that the only plausible way to refute skepticism is
by denying closure. See his 2005a and 2005b for a defense of this claim,
trenchant criticisms of the contextualist theory, and responses to criticisms
of the tracking theory.)
f. Some Skeptical Arguments do not Employ Closure
One of the strengths claimed for the tracking account of knowledge is that it
blocks the standard skeptical argument, since it involves the rejection of
closure. Not all skeptical arguments employ closure principles, however, so
it is unclear how much anti-skeptical value would accrue from denying
closure. Underdetermination arguments might be the best skeptical
arguments and they do not depend (at least explicitly) on closure.
Underdetermination is a relation that holds between two or more theories,
when the theories are incompatible, but empirically equivalent.
Underdetermination skeptical arguments rely crucially on the premise that
if two theories are incompatible but compatible with all the available (and
perhaps possible) data, we cannot know that one is true and the other false.
Compare, for example, the thesis that I have hands, which I perceive
through sense perception, and the thesis that I am a handless brain in a vat,
artificially stimulated so as to have misleading sense perceptions. These
theses are incompatible, but they are empirically equivalent. Whichever
thesis were true, I would have the same sort of experiences. Suppose we
adopt the following principle: if two incompatible theses both entail (or

predict) the same observational data, then that observational data does not
support (or justify belief of) one of the theses over the other. With this
principle and the premise that the two theses are incompatible but
observationally equivalent, we can deduce that our apparent perception of
our hands does not justify us in believing that we have hands.
The argument is greatly oversimplified, but the outline of the skeptical
argument from underdetermination now ought to be clear. The argument
does not explicitly employ any closure premise, so the rejection of closure
would seem not to undermine the argument in any straightforward way.
One could always argue that the appeal of the argument from
underdetermination implicitly relies on the closure principle or that the
argument from underdetermination is objectionable on other grounds.
Skeptical arguments from underdetermination, however, seem as plausible
as other skeptical arguments and their plausibility seems not to depend on
the plausibility of any of the closure principles.
Infinite regress arguments for skepticism also do not straightforwardly
appeal to closure. A regress argument that no belief is epistemically justified
(and hence than no belief counts as knowledge) runs as follows. We assume
that all justification is inferential. That is, every justified belief is justified by
appeal to some other justified belief. The basis for this claim might be the
nature of argumentation. One is justified in believing a conclusion if one is
justified in believing the premises that support the conclusion. If the
conclusion is one of the premises, then the argument is question-begging, or
circular, and not rationally persuasive. But if every justified belief can be
justified only be inferring it from some further justified belief and there
cannot be an infinite regress of justified beliefs, then it must be that no
beliefs are justified. (A foundationalist about justification, on the other
hand, while agreeing that an infinite regress of justified beliefs is
impossible, insists that there are justified beliefs, and hence that some
beliefs are justified non-inferentially, or in other words, that some justified
beliefs are basic or foundational). The claim that no justified belief is selfjustifying does not entail any closure principle of justification or knowledge,
so the argument seems to be independent of closure and thus not vulnerable
to arguments against closure principles. (See also Ancient Skepticism).

The proponent of the tracking account of knowledge need not answer all
forms of the skeptical argument with the same tools, so even if some
skeptical arguments do not depend on the closure principle, the tracking
analysis might provide the resources for countering the skeptical arguments
from underdetermination or regress.

4. Dogmatism and the Rejection of Closure


At least one philosopher (Audi 1988, 76-8; 1991, 77-84) has claimed that the
justification of dogmatism, adapted from Harman (see section 2 of this
article), is a reductio ad absurdum of the epistemic closure principle. If
closure allows one to infer, and thus know, that any evidence against
something one knows must be misleading and may be ignored, then closure
must be rejected.
Audis example is of a man who adds up a series of numbers and thereby
knows the sum of the numbers. But the mans wife (whom he considers to
be a better mathematician) says that he has added the numbers incorrectly
and gotten the wrong sum. If the man knows that the sum is n, and knows
that his wife says the sum is not n, then by closure he knows that his wife is
wrong. (This is so, as the sum is n and my wife says the sum in not n
entails that my wife is wrong; one knows the former claim and knows it
entails the latter, so one knows the latter). Since he knows his wife is wrong,
there is no need to recalculate the sum. (Similar examples appear in Dretske
1970 and Thalberg 1974). If one believes something only when one takes
oneself to know it, as is plausible, then by this reasoning one has reason to
dismiss any evidence against something that one believes.
Denying the closure principle to avoid the odd dogmatic conclusion has
some initial appeal, but there are alternative solutions that do not require us
to reject such a compelling principle. And, as Feldman says (1995, 493),
there is a general reason not to resolve the paradox by denying closure. To
say, Yes, I know that p is true, and that p entails q, but I draw the line at q,
seems irrational. To refuse to accept what you know to be the consequences
of your beliefs, he says, is to be patently unreasonable. Not only is it
infelicitous to deny closure, but the dogmatist argument may be blocked
without doing so.

For instance, one could take the dogmatism argument to be a reductio ad


absurdum of the anti-skeptical position. This is the tack taken by Peter
Unger (1975). If we deny that one could know that p (say, that the sum of
the numbers is n), then even if we accept closure, we have no reason to
suppose that one could know that all evidence against p was misleading.
Alternatively, Roy Sorensen (Sorensen 1988) argues that given that one
knows that p, the conditional If E is evidence against p, then E is
misleading is a junk conditional, in that although it may be known to be
true, this knowledge cannot be expanded under modus ponens. That is to
say, if if p then q is a junk conditional, the conditional can be known to be
true, but it could not be the case that simultaneously the conditional is
known and that knowledge of the antecedent p would justify one in
believing the consequent q. Some conditionals are known to be true on the
basis of the extreme unlikelihood of the antecedent, but are such that if one
acquired evidence that supports the antecedent, one would not be justified
in inferring the consequent because the probability of the antecedent is
inversely proportional to the probability of the conditional. That is, if one
were to learn that the antecedent of the conditional was true, one would no
longer have reason to accept (and would no longer know) the conditional.
If this is a Cuban cigar, then Im a monkeys uncle! is an example of such a
conditional. This conditional can be known to be true, in virtue of the
antecedent being known to be false, but if one were to find evidence that
this is indeed a Cuban cigar, one should not infer that he is a monkeys
uncle. Rather, one should conclude that perhaps one did not know the
conditional to be true after all, since one has evidence that its antecedent
was true and its consequent false. In short, if a conditional is a junk
conditional one cannot come to know the consequent q in virtue of ones
knowing the antecedent p and the conditional if p then q, because ones
knowledge of the conditional depends on the falsity of the antecedent.
Given that one knows that r (say, that ones car is in parking lot A), one
knows that the conditional if there is any evidence against r, however
strong, then it must be misleading is true. Part of ones basis for knowing
that r might be that one has reason to believe that there is no strong
evidence against r. But if one were to learn of strong evidence against r,
such as testimony that ones car had been towed, one ought, at least in some

cases, to consider the possibility that one does not in fact know that r,
rather than simply inferring that the testimony is misleading. Learning the
truth of the antecedent that there is strong evidence against r may
undermine the justification for believing the conditional itself, thus making
the conditional resistant to modus ponens. Knowledge of the conditional
depends on ones knowing that the antecedent is false. Finding evidence in
favor of the antecedent even if in fact it is misleading may weaken ones
justification for the conditional, such that one no longer knows the
conditional to be true.
This blocking of the dogmatist argument does not involve denying closure,
though. The reason the modus ponens inference fails to go through is
because the conditional is a junk conditional; one can know the
conditional to be true only if one does not know the antecedent to be true,
and the closure principle applies only if one simultaneously knows both the
conditional and its antecedent to be true.
Another explanation that does not require the denial of closure is due to
Michael Veber (Veber 2004). He says that even if the dogmatist argument is
sound, the principle If a piece of evidence E is known by S to be
misleading, S ought to disregard it, ought not to be endorsed on grounds of
human fallibility. We are frequently enough wrong in taking ourselves to
know what we in fact do not know that following such a principle would
lead one to disregard evidence that is not misleading. There is nothing
wrong with the principle, provided it is correctly applied; but due to the
difficulty or impossibility of correctly applying it, adopting such a policy is
contraindicated.

5. The McKinsey Paradox, Closure, and


Transmission Failure
a. The McKinsey Paradox
Michael McKinsey (1991) discovered a paradox about content externalism
that has prompted some reconsideration of how knowledge is transmitted
through deductive reasoning.

Content externalism (or anti-individualism) is, to greatly oversimplify, the


thesis that we are only able to have thoughts with certain contents because
we inhabit environments of certain sorts. (Putnam 1975 and Burge 1979 are
the most notable defenses of this view). Molecule-for-molecule duplicates
could differ in their contents due to differences in their environments.
According to the externalist, my twin on Twin Earth might be an exact
duplicate of me, but if Twin Earth contains a different but similar light
metal used to make baseball bats, cans, and so forth instead of aluminum,
then even if the denizens of Twin Earth call this metal aluminum, their
thoughts are not thoughts about aluminum. This view is a repudiation of the
Cartesian view of the mental, according to which the contents of our
thoughts are what they are independent of the surrounding world.
Externalism has been defended and criticized on many different grounds,
but the debate about externalism has pivoted largely on its implications for
the thesis that we have privileged access to the contents of our own
thoughts. How does one know that she is now thinking that some cans are
made from aluminum, rather than the thought that some cans are made
from twaluminum (as we may call it), which is what she would be thinking
if she lived on Twin Earth? Incompatibilists about externalism and
privileged access point out that the two thoughts are introspectively
indiscriminable if externalism is true and argue that one could only know
which of these thoughts one is now thinking through empirical investigation
of ones environment.
Compatibilists about externalism and self-knowledge often argue that if a
subject has a mental state with a particular content (say, a belief that some
cans are made of aluminum) in virtue of that subject bearing a certain
relation to an external state of affairs (say, aluminum, rather than
twaluminum, being present in ones environs), then any mental state the
subject has about that particular mental state of his, like his belief that he
believes some cans are made of aluminum, will also stand in a similar
relation to the same external state of affairs (aluminum, rather than
twaluminum, being present). Hence, this second-order mental state (i.e. a
mental state about a mental state) will involve the same content as the firstorder belief (say, that some cans are made of aluminum). In short, one will
believe that he believes cans are made of aluminum only if one in fact does

believe that cans are made of aluminum, since both of these states bear a
causal relation to aluminum, rather than twaluminum. (See Burge 1988 and
Heil 1988). Whatever makes it the case that S thinks that p (instead of q)
will also make it the case that S thinks I am thinking that p(instead of I am
thinking that q). Coupled with a reliabilist theory of knowledge, these
second-order beliefs count as knowledge since they cannot go wrong and
the thesis of privileged access is reconciled with externalism.
Enter McKinseys Paradox. We assume that we know content externalism to
be true and that it is compatible with a suitably robust thesis of privileged
access to thought contents. We may now reason as follows:
1.

I know that I am in mental state M (say, the state of believing that water is
wet). (Privileged Access)

2.

I know that if I am in mental state M, then I meet external conditions E (say,


living in an environment that contains water). (Content Externalism, known through
philosophical reflection)

3.

If I know one thing and I know that it entails a second thing, then I know the
second thing. (Closure of knowledge under known entailment)

4.

Thus, I know that I meet external conditions E. (From 1-3)

The knowledge attributed in the premises is a priori in the broad sense that
includes knowledge gotten through introspection and/or philosophical
reflection. That knowledge is not gained via empirical investigation of the
external world. The conclusion follows by an application of the closure
principle. What is paradoxical is that, given closure, it seems that one can
know the truth of an empirical claim about the external world (say, that
ones environment contains water or that it contains aluminum rather than
twaluminum) simply by inferring it from truths known by reflection or
introspection. This argument bolsters the incompatibilists case: since it is
only by investigation of the world that one can know that one meets a
particular set of external conditions and since the premises (including
closure) entail that this fact can be known on the basis of knowledge not
dependent on investigation of the world, either the privileged access
premise or the externalist thesis must be false (provided that the closure
principle is correct).
b. Davies, Wright, and the Closure/Transmission Distinction

There are many responses to this argument. Some reject externalism, some
(like McKinsey) deny privileged access, and some compatibilists (Brueckner
1992) argue that even if externalism is known to be true, nothing as specific
as the second premise of the argument could be known a priori. But
perhaps the most influential attempt to solve the paradox is due to Martin
Davies (1998) and Crispin Wright (2000). They argue that even though
arguments like McKinseys are valid and their premises are known to be
true, this knowledge is not transmitted across the entailment to the
conclusion. At first blush, it seems like Davies and Wright are rejecting
closure, which is certainly one way to deal with the paradox. Davies and
Wright accept closure, though, and only reject a related but stronger
epistemological principle that says that knowledge is transmitted over
known entailment.
Davies and Wright are distinguishing between the closure of knowledge
under known entailment and what they take to be a common misreading of
it. The closure principle says that if one knows that p and knows
that p entails q, then one knows that q, but the principle is silent on what
ones basis or justification for q is and does not claim that the basis for q is
the knowledge that p and that p entails q. The principle of the transmission
of knowledge under known entailment, however, states that if one knows
that p, and knows that p entails q, then one knows q on that basis what
enables one to know that p and that p entails q also enables one to know
that q. Davies and Wright accept the closure principle but deny the
transmission principle, arguing that it fails when the inference
from p to q is, although valid, not cogent. Here cogency is understood as an
arguments aptness for producing rational conviction.
One way an argument could be valid but fail to be cogent is that the
justification for the premises presupposes the truth of the conclusion. If I
reason from the premise that I have a drivers license issued by the state of
North Carolina (based on visual inspection of my license and memory of
having obtained it at the North Carolina Department of Motor Vehicles) to
the conclusion that there exists an external world, including North Carolina,
outside my mind, it is plausible that my justification for the premise (taking
sense experience and memory at face value) presupposes the truth of the
conclusion. If this is so, then it seems that the premise could not be my

basis for knowing the conclusion. Anyone in doubt about the conclusion
would not accept the premise, so although the premise entails the
conclusion, the premise could not provide the basis for rational conviction
that the conclusion is true. Such an argument is valid, but not cogent. It
would not be a counterexample to closure, for anyone who knows the
premise and the entailment also must know the conclusion, but it is a
counterexample to the transmission principle, since the conclusion would
not be known on the basis of the knowledge of the premise.
According to Davies and Wright, the McKinsey argument is valid but not
cogent because knowledge of the conclusion is presupposed in ones
supposed introspective knowledge of the premises. Thus, it is a
counterexample to transmission, but poses no threat to closure. The nonempirical access to the externally individuated thought contents is
conditional on the assumption that certain external conditions obtain (such
as that ones environs include aluminum rather than twaluminum), which
can only be confirmed empirically. Thus one may not reason from the nonempirical knowledge claimed in the premises to non-empirical knowledge
of an empirical truth that enjoys presuppositional status with regard to the
premises. That one has a thought about water may entail that one bears a
causal relation to water in ones environment (if externalism is correct) and
one may know the former and the entailment only if one knows the latter,
but one may not cogently reason from the premise to the conclusion, since
the inference begs the question. Anyone who doubts the conclusion of the
McKinsey argument in the first place would not (or at least should not -- the
presuppositions of our premises are not always recognized as such) be
moved to accept the premises that entail it.
Consider then the following principle about a priori knowledge:
(APK) If a subject knows something a priori and correctly deduces (a
priori) from it a second thing, then the subject knows a priori the second
claim.
We can describe this principle in two equivalent ways. It is the principle of
closure of a priori knowledge under correct a priori deduction and,
alternatively, it is a specific instance of the principle of transmission of
knowledge under known entailment, since it claims that the a priori basis

for knowledge of the premise transmits to the conclusion, allowing it to be


known a priori as well. If Davies and Wright are correct, the principle is
false because counterexamples may be found in deductions that are valid
but not cogent.
Davies and Wright apply this distinction between transmission and closure
to Moore's anti-skeptical argument as well. Although it is true that the
negation of the brain-in-a-vat hypothesis is entailed by an ordinary
proposition, such as that I have hands, the existence of the external world is
presupposed in the justification for that premise and, therefore, may not be
justifiably inferred from that premise. Moore's argument is not cogent, so it
is a counterexample to transmission, which we have reason to reject
anyhow, and not a counterexample to closure (or so Davies and Wright
argue).
This is plausibly another sort of conditional that is not expandable
by modus ponens. Unlike the junk conditionals, which cannot be expanded
because the conditional can be known to be true only when the antecedent
of the conditional is not known to be true, conditionals in which the
justification for the antecedent presupposes justification for the consequent
we may call them conditionals of presupposition cannot be expanded
because the relevant modus ponens inference would not be cogent. The
inference would be question-begging.
The distinction that Davies and Wright argue for also applies to closure
principles for justified belief. If they are correct, then justified belief could
be closed under known entailment even if justification is not necessarily
transmitted across known entailment. The counterexamples to the
transmission principle for knowledge would also function as
counterexamples for the transmissibility of justified belief.
Some have argued that the Davies-Wright line of argument fails to solve the
McKinsey paradox. Whether they are right is beyond the scope of this entry.
But the distinction Davies and Wright have drawn between transmission
and closure is an important one. That if one knows that p and has validly
deduced q from p, one must know that q, tells us nothing about ones basis
for q. Although quite often it can and will, in some instances knowledge
of p cannot provide the basis for knowledge of q, even though p entails q,

because the justification for p presupposes q. One knows that q(on some
independent basis), so there is no counterexample to closure, but q will not
be known on the basis of p, so the transmission principle is false.
Clarifying the closure principle as a principle about the distribution of
knowledge across known entailment, rather than as a principle about the
transmission or acquisition of knowledge, divorces the closure principle, to
some extent, from the initial intuitive support for it, which is the idea that
we can add to our store of knowledge (or justified belief) by accepting what
we know to be entailed by propositions we know (or justifiably believe). On
this understanding of closure, knowledge and justified belief are distributed
across known entailment even when drawing the inference in question
could not add to ones store of knowledge or justified belief.

6. Ordinary Propositions, Lottery Propositions,


and Closure
The closure principle also figures in a paradox about our knowledge of
ordinary propositions and lottery propositions. Ordinary propositions
are those that we ordinarily suppose ourselves to know. Lottery
propositions are those with a high likelihood of being true, but which we are
ordinarily disinclined to say that we know. Suppose that one lives on a fixed
income and struggles to make ends meet. It seems that one knows one will
not be able to afford a mansion on the French Riviera this year. Ones not
being able to afford the mansion this year entails that one will not win the
big lottery this year. By the closure principle, since one knows that one will
not be able to afford the mansion and one knows that ones not being able to
afford the mansion entails that one will not win the lottery, one must know
that one will not win the lottery. Most, however, are disinclined to say that
one could know that one will not win the lottery. Theres always a chance,
after all (provided that one buys a ticket).
This phenomenon is widespread. Ordinarily, one who keeps up with politics
could be said to know that Dick Cheney is the U.S. Vice-President. That
Cheney is the Vice-President entails that Cheney did not die of a heart
attack thirty seconds ago. But it seems that one does not know that Cheney
did not die of a heart attack in the last thirty seconds. How could one know

such a thing? (The coining of the term lottery proposition and the
discovery that this phenomenon is widespread, is due to Jonathan Vogel).
The apparently inconsistent triad is (i) one knows the ordinary proposition,
(ii) one fails to know the lottery proposition, and (iii) closure. One may
eliminate the inconsistency by denying closure on the sort of grounds that
Dretske and Nozick cite. Plausibly, ones belief of so-called ordinary
propositions tracks the truth, while ones belief of lottery propositions does
not. If Cheney were not Vice-President, one would not believe he was, but
had Cheney died in the past thirty seconds, one still would believe he was
Vice-President.
One might bite the skeptical bullet and insist that one really does not know
that Cheney is Vice-President. One of a more anti-skeptical bent might
maintain that one can really know the lottery propositions, such as that
Cheney did not die in the last thirty seconds. Such a resolution has
considerable costs, but denying closure is not among them.
Alternatively, one might argue for a contextualist handling of the problem
that does not require the denial of closure or biting the skeptical or antiskeptical bullet.

Coherentism in Epistemology
Coherentism is a theory of epistemic justification. It implies that for a belief
to be justified it must belong to a coherent system of beliefs. For a system of
beliefs to be coherent, the beliefs that make up that system must "cohere"
with one another. Typically, this coherence is taken to involve three
components: logical consistency, explanatory relations, and various
inductive (non-explanatory) relations. Rival versions of coherentism spell
out these relations in different ways. They also differ on the exact role of
coherence in justifying beliefs: in some versions, coherence is necessary and
sufficient for justification, but in others it is only necessary.
This article reviews coherentisms recent history, and marks off
coherentism from other theses. The regress argument is the dominant anticoherentist argument, and it bears on whether coherentism or its chief
rival, foundationalism, is correct. Several coherentist responses to this

argument will be examined. A taxonomy of the many versions of


coherentism is presented and followed by the main arguments for and
against coherentism. After these arguments, which make up the main body
of the article, a final section considers the future prospects of coherentism.

1. Introduction
a. History
British Idealists such as F.H. Bradley (1846-1924) and Bernard Bosanquet
(1848-1923) championed coherentism. So, too, did the philosophers of
science Otto Neurath (1882-1945), Carl Hempel (1905-1997), and W.V. Quine
(1908-2000). However, it is a group of contemporary epistemologists that
has done the most to develop and defend coherentism: most notably
Laurence BonJour in The Structure of Empirical Knowledge (1985) and
Keith Lehrer in Knowledge (1974) and Theory of Knowledge (1990), but
also Gilbert Harman, William Lycan, Nicholas Rescher, and Wilfrid Sellars.
Despite this long list of names, coherentism is a minority position among
epistemologists. It is probably only in moral epistemology that coherentism
enjoys wide acceptance. Under the influence of a prominent interpretation
of John Rawlss model of wide reflective equilibrium, many moral
philosophers have opted for a coherentist view of what justifies moral
beliefs.
b. Describing Coherentism
Epistemological coherentism (or simply "coherentism") needs to be
distinguished from several other theses. Because it is not a theory of truth,
coherentism is not the coherence theory of truth. That theory says that a
proposition is true just in case it coheres with a set of propositions. This
theory of truth has fallen out of favor in large part because it is thought to be
too permissive an obviously false proposition such as I am a coffee
cupcoheres with this set of propositions: I am not a human, I am in the
kitchen cupboard, I weigh 7 ounces. Even contemporary defenders of
coherentism are usually quick to distance themselves from this theory of
truth.

Coherentism is also distinct from a thesis about concepts that sometimes


goes under the name concept holism. Roughly, this thesis says that
possessing a particular concept requires possessing a number of other
concepts: for example, possessing the concept of assassination requires also
having the concepts of killing and death. Concepts, according to the thesis
of holism, do not come individually, but in packages. What is crucial here is
that neither concept holism nor the coherence theory of truth say anything
about the conditions under which a belief is justified.
So exactly what does coherentism have to say regarding when our beliefs are
justified? The strongest form of coherentism says that belonging to a
coherent system of beliefs is
1.

necessary for a belief to be justified and

2.

by itself sufficient for a belief to be justified.

This viewcall it strong coherentismcan be contrasted with two weaker


varieties of coherentism. Necessity coherentism just makes the necessity
claim at (1). It imposes coherence as what is often called "a structural
condition" on justification. Structural conditions just tell us how beliefs
must be related to one another if they are to be justified. However, being
related to one another in the required way may not suffice for justification,
since there might be additional non-structural conditions on justified belief.
A particularly lucid statement of necessity coherentism can be found in the
1992 paper by Kvanvig and Riggs. By contrast, strong coherentism can be
thought of as denying that there are any non-structural conditions.
When thinking about strong coherentism, it is important to appreciate
the by itself qualification in (2). This qualification sets coherentism off from
one of its most important rivals. The rival view is typically classified as noncoherentist, but it still gives coherence a supplemental role in justifying
beliefs. This view claims that coherence can boost the justification of a belief
as long as that belief is already independently justified in some way that is
not due to coherence. On this sort of view, coherence is sufficient to boost
beliefs that are independently justified. This, however, is not thought to be
strong enough to deserve the "coherentist" label. To make coherence
sufficient for justification in a way that deserves the label, one must claim
that coherence is sufficient, by itself, to generate justification in other

words, coherence must generate justification from scratch. Call


thissufficiency coherentism. Notice, also, that sufficiency coherentism
allows other factors besides coherence to be sufficient for justification.
Another role that non-coherentists sometimes give to coherence comes in a
negative condition on epistemic justification. This condition says that
incoherent beliefs fail to be justified. It might seem that on this view,
coherence is necessary for justification. But this only follows if coherence
and incoherence are contradictories. Below, we will see reasons to think
that they are not contradictories, but instead contraries. This explains why a
view that says that incoherence disqualifies beliefs from being justified is
not classified as a coherentist view. More is required to get the claim that
coherence is necessary for justification.
There are real difficulties for circumscribing self-styled coherentists. Not
every self-styled coherentist subscribes to either (1) or (2). For example,
BonJour, in his 1985 book, held that meeting the coherence condition is not
sufficient for justification, since he claimed that, in addition, justified beliefs
must meet a distinctive internalist condition. Moreover, since BonJour also
held (and still holds) that coherence is not necessary for the justification of
a priori beliefs, strictly speaking he did not hold that coherence is necessary
for epistemic justification either. Still his early view should be classified as
coherentist, since he claimed that coherence is a necessary condition on a
wide class of beliefs being justified, namely empirical beliefs.
In what follows, each argument for coherentism will be classified according
to whether it aims to show necessity coherentism, or sufficiency
coherentism (this will also cover arguments for strong coherentism, since it
is simply the conjunction of necessity coherentism and sufficiency
coherentism). Similarly, each argument against coherentism will be
classified according to whether it targets necessity coherentism, or
sufficiency coherentism (since an argument that targets either of these
views is also an argument against strong coherentism, this will cover
arguments against strong coherentism). Following BonJour and much of
the recent literature, the focus will be on our empirical beliefs and whether
there is a coherence condition on the justification of these beliefs.

One more preliminary point is in order. Since necessity coherentism just


makes a claim about the structure that our justified beliefs must take, it is
neutral on whether coherence must be introspectively accessible if it is to
function as a justifier. In other words, it is neutral on the debate between
epistemic internalism and epistemic externalism. So while the most
important recent coherentists namely Laurence BonJour (1985) and Keith
Lehrer (1974 and 1990) have also espoused epistemological internalism,
this commitment is over and above that of structural coherentism. This
makes their views incompatible with strong coherentism, since the
internalist commitment is an additional condition over and above that of
structural coherentism.

2. The Regress Argument


The Regress Argument goes back at least as far as Aristotle's Prior
Analytics, Book 1. Like many others, Aristotle takes it to support
coherentisms chief rival, foundationalism. The argument has two stages:
one that identifies all of the candidate structural conditions; and one that
rules against the coherentist candidate.
a. The Argument
The argument opens with the claim that some of a persons justified beliefs
are justified because they derive their justification from other beliefs. For
example, take my justified belief that tomorrow is Wednesday. That belief is
justified by two other beliefs: my belief that today is Tuesday and my belief
that Tuesday is immediately followed by Wednesday. But, if my belief that
tomorrow is Wednesday derives its justification from these other beliefs,
then my belief that tomorrow is Wednesday is justified only if these other
beliefs are justified. Consider these other beliefs. One possibility is that they
derive their justification from yet further beliefs, in which case they are
dependent for their justification on those further beliefs if it is, we can
shift our attention to these further beliefs. The other possibility is that these
beliefs are justified, but their justification does not derive from some other
justified beliefs.
Three options emerge. According to the foundationalist option, the series of
beliefs terminates with special justified beliefs called basic beliefs: these

beliefs do not owe their justification to any other beliefs from which they are
inferred. According to the infinitist option, the series of relations wherein
one belief derives its justification from one or more other beliefs goes on
without either terminating or circling back on itself. According to one
construal of the coherentist option, the series of beliefs does circle back on
itself, so that it includes, once again, previous beliefs in the series.
Standard presentations of the Regress Argument are used to establish
foundationalism; to this end, they include further arguments against the
infinitist and coherentist options. These arguments are the focus of the
second stage. Lets focus on the two most popular arguments against
coherentism which figure into the Regress Argument; and lets continue to
construe coherentism as saying that beliefs are justified in virtue of forming
a circle. The first argument makes a circularity charge. By opting for a
closed loop, the charge is that coherentism certifies circular reasoning. A
necessity coherentist will be charged with making circular reasoning
necessary for justified belief. A sufficiency coherentist will be charged with
making circular reasoning part of something (namely, coherence) that is
sufficient for justified belief. But circular reasoning is an epistemic flaw, not
an epistemic virtue. It is neither necessary, nor part of what is sufficient, for
justified belief; in fact, it precludes justified belief.
The second argument takes aim at the claim that coherence is necessary for
justification. Since a belief is justified only if, through a chain of other
beliefs, we ultimately return to the original belief, coherentism is
committed, despite the initial appearance, to the claim that the original
belief is justified, at least in part, by itself. This is supposed to follow from
the coherentist corollary that if the chain of supporting beliefs did not
eventually double back on the original belief, then the original belief would
not be justified. But the claim that my belief that tomorrow is Wednesday is
justified (even in part) by itself is mistaken after all, it is derived, via
inference, from other beliefs. Call this, the self-support charge.
b. Coherentist Responses
Coherentists need not resist the first stage of the regress argument since
that stage, recall, just generated the candidate views. Their responses focus
on the second stage. That coherentism is the best of the three candidates is

argued for in several ways: by highlighting shortcomings with infinitism and


foundationalism, by giving positive arguments for coherentism (we will look
at these later in Section 4), and by responding to objections against
coherentism. Lets continue with the two objections that have already been
tabled, the circularity and self-support objections, and examine some
coherentist responses to these objections.
Some coherentists have responded to the circularity charge by suggesting
that reasoning in a circle is not a problem as long as the circle is large
enough. This suggestion has not found much favor. What is worrisome
about circular reasoning, for example, that it is overly permissive since it
allows one to easily construct reasons for any claim whatsoever, applies just
as well to large circles of beliefs.
According to a more instructive reply, the circularity charge and the selfsupport charge rest on a misconception about coherentism. Often
coherentists point out that their view is that systems of beliefs are what is,
in the first place, justified (or unjustified). Individual beliefs are not the
items that are primarily justified (or unjustified). Put in this light, the whole
approach of the regress argument is question begging. For notice the
argument had us begin with an individual belief that was justified, though
conditionally so. Then we went in search of what justifies that belief. This
linear approach to justification led to the circularity and self-support
charges. Coherentism, however, proposes a holistic view of justification.
On this kind of view, the primary bearer of epistemic justification is a
system of beliefs. Seen in this light, both charges seem to be question
begging.
Some have argued that the move to holistic justification fails to really
answer the circularity and self-support charges. For even granting that it is
a system of beliefs that is primarily justified, it is still true that a system of
beliefs is justified in virtue of the fact that the individual beliefs that make
up the system relate to one another in a circular fashion. And it is still true
that a belief must support itself if it is to be justified, since this is needed if
the relevant system of beliefs (and hence the individual belief) is to be
justified. It is not so clear, then, that the reply which highlights the holistic
nature of justification is successful.

However, by conjoining the appeal to epistemic holism with another appeal,


a coherentist might have a fully satisfactory reply. This second appeal
identifies another misconception about coherentism that might lie behind
the circularity charge and the self-support charge. This misconception has
to do with the variety of ways in which our beliefs can support one another
so that they come out justified. Coherentists are fond of metaphors like
rafts, webs, and bricks in an arch. These things stay together because their
parts support one another. Each part both supports, and is supported by,
other specific parts. So too with justified beliefs: each is both supported by,
and supports, other beliefs. This means that among support relations, there
are symmetrical support relations: one belief can support a second (perhaps
mediately through other beliefs), while the second also supports the first
(again, perhaps, mediately). Beliefs that stand in sufficiently strong support
relations to one another are coherent, and therefore justified.
This contrasts with foundationalisms trademark bifurcation of beliefs into
basic beliefs and non-basic beliefs. Basic beliefs do the supporting; nonbasic beliefs are what they support. According to foundationalists, there are
no symmetrical support relations. This much is clear enough. The delicate
issue that it raises is this: do the circularity and self-support charges rest on
an assumption that beliefs cannot be justified in virtue of standing in
symmetrical support relations to one another? If the charges require this
assumption, then they might beg the question.
Consider the circularity charge first. To simply assert that circular reasoning
is epistemically defective and therefore cannot generate justified beliefs
seems very close to simply asserting that beliefs cannot be justified in virtue
of standing in symmetrical support relations. What the opponent of
coherentism must do is tell us more precisely why circular reasoning is
epistemically defective. While the considerations they call on might well
imply that symmetrical support relations do not justify, they will be
ineffective if they simply assume this.
We are now in a position to see that the self-support charge is importantly
different from the circularity charge. Where the circularity charge targets
the coherentist claim that beliefs are justified by standing in support
relations that are mediated by other beliefs but ultimately return to
themselves, the self-support charge focuses on an alleged implication of

this, namely that beliefs are therefore justified at least in part because they
stand in support relations to themselves. In slogan form: reflexive relations
justify.
So what about the self-support charge? Does making this charge require
assuming that symmetrical support relations cannot justify? We need to be
careful. While the claim that the support relation is transitive and the claim
that supporting relations link back to a previously linked belief implies that
the relevant belief supports itself, coherentists are not thereby stuck with
the claim that this belief is justified in virtue of supporting itself. Arguably,
it is open to the coherentist to hold, instead, that this belief is justified in
virtue of the circular structure of the support relations, while denying that it
is justified in virtue of supporting itself. Still, this may not be enough, since
the coherentist might still have to maintain that justified belief is
compatible with self-support.

3. Taxonomy of Coherentist Positions


Recall that strong coherentism says Ss belief that p is justified if and only if
it belongs, and coheres with, a system of Ss beliefs, and this system is
coherent. Central to this formulation are three notions: the notion of a
system of beliefs, the notion of belonging to a system of beliefs, and the
notion of a coherent system of beliefs. Lets look at these in order. As we will
see, each can be spelled out in different ways. The result is that coherentism
covers a wide variety of views.
a. What is it to Belong to a Belief System?
What qualifies a set of beliefs as a system of beliefs? Partly, it is the number
of beliefs that make it up. Minimally, a system of beliefs must consist in at
least two beliefs. In a moment, we will see that two is probably not enough.
The other extreme that the size of the relevant system is ones entire
corpus of beliefs must be rejected, on the grounds that any sufficiently
strong incoherence would make all of ones beliefs unjustified. This is
implausible, since incoherence in ones outlook on one topic, say set theory,
should not affect the epistemic status of ones outlook on an unconnected
topic, say whether one is presently in pain. Between these two extremes lie a
number of importantly different intermediate positions. There are a few

general approaches to carving out distinct systems of beliefs in a belief


corpus. Lets look at four.
One way of individuating systems of beliefs is by reference to their subjectmatters. For example, your beliefs about mathematical matters might form
one system of beliefs, while your beliefs about tonights dinner might form
another. Alternatively, systems of beliefs might be individuated by the
sources that produced them: visual beliefs might form one system, auditory
beliefs another, memorial beliefs another, and so forth. The third possibility
involves individuating systems phenomenologically. Beliefs themselves, or
perhaps key episodes that come with acquiring them, might have
phenomenological markers. If these markers stand in similarity relations to
one another, this would lead to grouping beliefs into distinct systems. A
final possibility, perhaps the most plausible one, involves individuating
systems of beliefs according to whether the beliefs that belong to a
particular system stand in some dependency relations of a psychological
sort to one another for example, a psychological relation like that involved
in inference. We will return to this fourth possibility below.
Lets turn to the second notion, that of belonging to a system of beliefs.
According to straightforward accounts of this notion, for a belief to belong
to a system of beliefs, it must relate to the beliefs that make up that system
in just the same way that the beliefs relate to one another if they are to
constitute a system of beliefs. This will involve one of the four possibilities
that were just surveyed.
b. What is the Makeup of the Coherence Relation?
Coherence relations can hold among a set of beliefs that constitute a system.
Arguably, coherence relations can also hold between systems of beliefs. On
the simplest view, the latter occurs when the individual beliefs that are
members of the respective systems cohere with one another across systems.
As a result, the beliefs belonging to the respective systems gain in
justification. Here, I will focus on the easier case in which a set of beliefs
constitute a single coherent system of beliefs.
A coherent system of beliefs has two basic marks. First, the beliefs have to
have propositional contents which relate to one another in some specified

way. Call this the propositional relation. Additionally, it is plausible to think


that the relevant beliefs must be related to one another in ones psychology
in some way, for example by being inferred from one another. Lets look at
the specifics, starting with the propositional relation.
i. The Propositional Relation: Deductive Relations
We need to consider two relations from deductive logic: logical consistency
and mutual derivability. At a minimum, coherence requires logical
consistency. So a set of belief contents, p1, . pn, is coherent only if p1, .
pn neither includes, nor logically entails, a contradiction. Logical
consistency is far from sufficient, though, since a set of beliefs in a scattered
array of propositions can be logically consistent without being justified.
Consider, for example, my belief that Joan is sitting, my belief that 2+2=4,
and my belief that tomorrow is Wednesday. While these beliefs are logically
consistent with one another, more needs to be in place if they are to be
justified.
This last set of beliefs illustrates another important point. While
coherentists will claim that this set of beliefs does not exhibit coherence, it
is at the same time implausible to claim that this set is incoherent. It is not
incoherent, since no one of the beliefs is in direct conflict with, that is,
contradicts, any of the others. It follows that coherence and incoherence are
contraries, not contradictories. If a set of beliefs is coherent, then it is not
incoherent; if a set of beliefs is incoherent, then it is not coherent; but as
this last case illustrates, there are sets of beliefs that fail to be coherent, but
are not incoherent either. The fact that coherence and incoherence are
contraries explains the earlier point about why deeming incoherent beliefs
unjustified is not enough to make one a coherentist. Just because a theory
disqualifies incoherent beliefs from being justified, it is not thereby
committed to holding that coherence is necessary for justification.
Consider, next, mutual derivability. Though it is plausible that logical
consistency is necessary for coherence, it is too much to require that each
believed proposition entail each of the other believed propositions in the
system. In fact, it is even too much to require that each believed proposition
entail at least one of the other believed propositions. To see why these
requirements are too strong, consider these four beliefs: the belief that Moe

is wincing, the belief that Moe is squealing, the belief that Moe is yelling
that hurts, and the belief that Moe is in pain. None of these beliefs
logically implies any of the others. Nor does the conjunction of any three of
them imply the fourth. Despite the lack of entailments, though, the beliefs
together seem to constitute a system of beliefs that is intuitively quite
coherent. So coherence can be earned by relations weaker than entailment.
ii. The Propositional Relation: Inductive Relations
Many coherentists have required, in addition to logical consistency,
probabilistic consistency. So if one believes that p is 0.9 likely to be true,
then one would be required to believe that not-p is 0.1 likely to be true. Here
probability assignments appear in the content of what is believed.
Alternatively, a theory of probability might generate consistency constraints
by imposing constraints on the degrees of confidence with which we believe
things. So take a person who believes p, but is not fully confident that p is
correct; she believes p to a degree of 0.9. Here 0.9 is not part of the content
of what she believes; it measures her confidence in believing p. Consistency
might then require that she believe not-p to a degree of 0.1. In one of these
two ways, the axioms of probability might help set coherence constraints.
Besides being probabilistically consistent with one another, coherent beliefs
gain in justification from being inferred from one another in conformity
with the canons of cogent inductive reasoning. Foundationalists, at least
moderate foundationalists, have just as much at stake in the project of
identifying these canons. It is common to identify distinct branches of
inductive reasoning, each with their own respective canons: for example,
inference to the best explanation, enumerative induction, and various forms
of statistical reasoning. For present purposes, what is crucial in all of this is
that beliefs inferred from one another in conformity with the identified
canons (whatever the exact canons are) boost coherence, and therefore
justification.
iii. The Propositional Relation: Explanatory Relations
To supplement the requirements of logical, and probabilistic, consistency,
coherentists often introduce explanatory relations. This allows them to
concur that the system consisting in the beliefs that Moe is wincing, Moe is

squealing, and Moe is yelling that hurts coheres with the belief that Moe is
in pain. In addition, it allows us to disqualify the set consisting in my beliefs
that Joan is sitting, 2+2=4, and tomorrow is Wednesday on the grounds
that these propositions do not in any way explain one another.
There are two ways that a proposition can be involved in an explanatory
relation: as being what is explained, or as being what does the explaining.
These are not exclusive. The fact there are toxic fumes in the room is
explained by the fact that the cap is off the bottle of toxic liquid. The fact
that there are toxic fumes in the room, in turn, explains the fact that I am
feeling sick. So I might believe that I am feeling sick, draw an explanatory
inference and believe that there must be toxic fumes in the air, and then
from that belief draw a second explanatory inference and believe that the
cap must be off the bottle. In this case, that there are toxic fumes in the air
serves to both explain why I am sick and in turn serves as the explanatory
basis for the cap being off the bottle. Often what drives coherentists to think
that a coherent set of beliefs must consist in more than two beliefs is that
the needed explanatory richness requires more than two beliefs.
Disagreement enters when coherentists say exactly what makes one thing a
good explanation of another. Among the determinants of good explanation
are predictive power, simplicity, fit with other claims that one is justified in
believing, and fecundity in answering questions. The nature and relative
weight of these, and other, determinants is quite controversial. At this level
of detail, coherentists, even so-called explanationists who stress the central
played by explanatory considerations, frequently diverge.
Not all coherentists include explanatory relations among the determinants
of coherence. See Lehrer (1990) for example. Those that do include them
usually give one of two kinds of accounts for why believed propositions that
do a good job of explaining one another increase coherence and hence boost
justification. One kind of account claims that when beliefs do this, they
make each other more likely to be true. On this kind of account, explanatory
relations are construed as ultimately being inductive probabilifying
relations. On an alterative account, explanatory relations are irreducible
ingredients of coherence, ingredients that are simply obvious parts of what
contributes to coherence.

iv. The Psychological Realization Condition


It is not enough that the contents of a persons beliefs happen to cohere with
one another. Another condition is needed. In the cognizers mind, these
beliefs must stand in some relation to one another. This extra condition
might be incorporated into an account of a belief system. Lets consider
another way of incorporating the condition. Suppose some coherentist
elects to individuate belief systems by the subject-matter of the belief
contents. Such a coherentist might then introduce a distinct psychological
realization condition, one that figures into an account of the coherence
relation rather than into an account of a system of beliefs. If the beliefs in
some system are to cohere with one another, they must interact with one
another for example, by being inferred from one another.
On the inferential approach a belief coheres with the rest of the beliefs in
some system of beliefs only if it stands in one of two inferential relations to
beliefs in that system of beliefs: it might be inferred from one, or more,
beliefs in the system; or, it might be a belief from which one, or more,
beliefs in the system have been inferred.
But inference is just one option. Arguably, another option would be to
impose a counterfactual condition. Roughly, this kind of condition says that
a belief coheres with other beliefs in the system to which it belongs only if
the following counterfactual conditional claim is true: if the rest of the
system were markedly different, in some specified way, then the person
would not hold that belief.

4. Arguments for Coherentism


Lets now survey some of the main arguments for, and against, coherentism.
This section reviews four arguments for coherentism. The first attempts to
show that coherence is sufficient for justification. Three more attempt to
show that it is necessary.
a. For Sufficiency: The Argument from Increased Probability
In An Analysis of Knowledge and Valuation, C.I. Lewis (1883-1964)
introduced a case that has been widely discussed. A number of witnesses
report the same thing about some event for example, that Nancy was at

last nights party. However, the witnesses are unreliable about this sort of
thing. Moreover, their reports are made completely independently of one
another in other words, the report of any one witness was in no way
influenced by the report of any of the other witnesses. According to Lewis,
the congruence of the reports establishes a high probability of what they
agree upon. (p. 246) The point is meant to generalize: whenever a number
of unreliable sources operate independently of one another, and they
converge with the same finding, this boosts the probability that that finding
is correct. This is so regardless of whether the sources are individual
testifiers, various sensory modalities, or any combination of sources. Items
that individually are quite unreliable and would not justify belief, when
taken together under conditions of independent operation and convergence,
produce justified beliefs.
This argument has been charged with several shortcomings. For one, it is
not clear that the argument, even if sound, establishes coherentism. The
argument appears to rest on an inference to the best explanation, one that
can be construed along foundationalist lines. So, for each source, S1 . . . Sn, I
am justified in believing S1 reports p, S2 reports p . . . Sn reports p.
According to foundationalists, these beliefs are justified without being
inferred from any other beliefs; they are basic beliefs. Then, inferring to the
best explanation, I come to believe p. This belief-that-p is a non-basic belief,
but since it rests on basic beliefs, the overall picture is a foundationalist one,
not a coherentist one.
Second, even on standard coherence views, it is not clear that the reportsthat-p cohere with one another. Logical coherence, both in the sense of
logical consistency and in the sense of mutual derivability, is in place; but
the explanatory relations that coherentists so often emphasize are not.
Third, it is controversial whether the argument is cogent. One issue here
concerns whether each source, taken individually, provides justification for
believing p. If each independently confers some justification, then one of
coherentisms rivals namely, a version of foundationalism which says that
coherence can boost overall justification, but cannot generate justification
from scratch can agree. On the other hand, if each source fails on its own
to confer any justification whatsoever, then the question remains: does this
kind of case show that coherence can create justification from scratch? If

the argument is to establish that coherence is by itself sufficient to generate


justification, we need to take each individual source as, on its own,
providing no justification whatsoever for believing p. Recently Bayesian
proofs have been offered to show that the convergence of such sourcesdoes
not increase the probability of p (see Huemer 1997 and Olson 2005). Their
convergence would have been just as likely had p been false.
b. For Necessity: Only Beliefs can Justify Other Beliefs
The next coherentist argument traces to work by Wilfrid Sellars (1973) and
Donald Davidson (1986). Often this argument is put forth as an antifoundationalist argument. However, if successful, it establishes the stronger
positive claim of necessity coherentism. According to this argument, only
beliefs are suited to justify beliefs. As Davidson puts it, nothing can count
as a reason for holding a belief except another belief (1986, p.126).
Consider the obvious alternative what justifies our empirical beliefs about
the external world are perceptual states. But perceptual states are either
states that have propositions as their objects, or they dont. If they have
propositions as their objects, then we need to be aware of these propositions
in the sense that we need to believe these propositions in order for the
initial belief to be justified. But it is these further beliefs that are really
doing the justifying. On the other hand, if they do not have propositions as
objects, then, no logical relations can hold between their objects and the
propositional contents of the beliefs that they are supposed to justify. That
seems to leave perceptual states standing in only causal relations to the
relevant empirical beliefs. But, Davidson claims, the mere fact that a belief
is caused by a perceptual state implies nothing about whether that belief is
justified.
Foundationalists have replied in a number of ways. First, suppose
perceptual states do not take propositions as their objects. It is not clear
why there needs to be a logical relation between the objects of perceptual
states, and the contents of the beliefs that they are supposed to justify. Nonperceptual states can figure into statements of conditional probability, so
that on their obtaining, a given belief is likely to be true to some degree or
other. Alternatively, they can bear explanatory relations to the beliefs that
they are alleged to justify. Second, suppose the relevant perceptual states do
take propositions as their objects. It is not at all obvious that one needs to

be aware of them for them to justify, though perhaps one does need to be
aware of them if one is to show that ones belief is justified. Here, the
coherentist argument is often charged with conflating the notion of a
justified belief with the notion of being in a position to show that ones
belief is justified.
c. For Necessity: The Need for Justified Background Beliefs
Coherentists sometimes argue in the following way. First, they invoke a
prosaic justified belief about the external world say my present belief that
there is a computer in front of me. Then they claim that this belief is
justified only if I am justified in believing that the lighting is normal, that
my eyes are functioning properly, that no tricks are being played on me, and
so forth. For if I am not justified in making these assumptions, then my
belief that there is a computer in front of me would not be justified.
Generalizing, the claim is that our beliefs about the external world are
justified only if some set of justified background beliefs is in place.
This argument has also been challenged. The key claim--that my belief that
there is a computer in front of me is justified only if I am justified in
believing these other things--is not obvious. A young child, for example,
might believe there is a computer in front of her, and this belief might be
justified, even though she is not yet justified in believing anything about the
lighting, her visual processes, and so forth. If this is correct, then the most
the argument can show is that if someone has a justified belief that there is
a computer in front of them and if they believe that the lighting is normal,
that their eyes are functioning well, and so forth, then these latter beliefs
had better be justified. This, however, is consistent with foundationalism.
Moreover, some epistemologists argue that the psychological realization
condition might not be met. For it is implausible to think that I infer that
there is a computer in front of me from one or more of my beliefs about the
lighting, my eyes, and absence of tricksters. Nor do I infer any of these latter
beliefs from my belief that there is a computer in front of me. Maybe this
non-content requirement will do instead: my computer belief is
counterfactually dependent on my beliefs about the lighting, my eyes, and
so forth, so that if I did not have any of the latter beliefs, then I would not
have the computer belief either. This is far from obvious, though. Perhaps,

in the imagined counterfactual situation, my state is like the childs. So even


a relation of counterfactual dependence might not be needed.
d. For Necessity: The Need for Meta-Beliefs
There is another argument that begins from a prosaic justified belief about
the external world. Consider, again, my empirically justified belief that
there is a computer in front of me. For this belief to be justified, I must
possess some reason for holding it. But to possess a reason is to believe that
reason. Since the reason presumably needs to be a good one, I must believe
it in such a way that my belief in that reason is a justified belief. This yields
a second justified belief. This second justified belief can then be subjected to
the same argument, an argument that will yield some third justified belief.
And so on.
Foundationalists have charged that this argument is psychologically
unrealistic. Surely, having a justified belief that there is a computer in front
of me does not require having an infinite number of justified beliefs.
Coherentists have a good reason to avoid being committed to this kind of
result: it is much more psychologically realistic to posit coherent systems of
beliefs that are finite. If this is right, the argument is best thought of as
a reductio ad absurdum of one, or more, of the claims that lead to the result
either the claim that justified belief requires possessing a reason, the
claim that possessing a reason requires believing that reason, or the claim
that possessing a reason requires believing it with justification.
Moreover, this argument does not clearly support coherentism. Instead, it
seems to support infinitism. Plus, the demand that it makes is a demand for
linear justification: my computer belief relies for its justification on my
having a second justified belief; in turn, this second justified belief relies for
its justification on my having some third justified belief. These dependency
relations are asymmetric one-way relations, the hallmark of linear
justification, not coherence justification.

5. Arguments Against Coherentism

This section takes up five arguments against coherentism. These are in


addition to the circularity and self-support charges that that were discussed
earlier.
a. Against Sufficiency: The Input and Isolation Arguments
One argument against sufficiency coherentism says that it fails to recognize
the indispensable role that experience plays in justifying our beliefs about
the external world. That sufficiency coherentism gives no essential role to
experience follows from the fact that the states that suffice to justify our
beliefs are, on this view, limited to other beliefs. That this is grounds for
rejecting sufficiency coherentism is spelled out in several different ways.
One way appeals to a lack of connection to the truth: since the view does not
give any essential role to the central source of input from the external world,
namely experience, there is no reason to expect a coherent system of beliefs
to accurately reflect the external world. This line of attack is often referred
to as the isolation objection. Alternatively, an opponent of sufficiency
coherentism might not appeal to truth-conductivity. Instead, she might
simply claim that it is implausible to deny that part of what justifies my
present belief that there is a computer in front of me is the nature of my
present visual and tactile experiences. So even if my experience
is not reflective of the truth, perhaps because I am a deceived brain-in-avat, my perceptual beliefs will be justified only if they suitably fit with what
my perceptual states are reporting.
Of course, proponents of necessity coherentism are free to impose other
necessary conditions on justified belief, conditions that can include things
about experience. But what about proponents of sufficiency coherentism?
How can they respond? Lets look at three ways. The first is from Laurence
BonJour (1985, chapters 6 and 7). BonJour identifies a class of beliefs that
he calls cognitively spontaneous beliefs. Roughly, these are non-inferential
beliefs that arise in us in a non-voluntary way. A subset of these beliefs can
be justified from within ones system of beliefs by appeal to two other
beliefs: the belief that these first-order beliefs occur spontaneously, plus the
belief that first-order spontaneous beliefs of a specific kind (a kind
individuated by its characteristic subject matter, or by its apparent mode of
sensory production) tend to be true. According to BonJour, invoking
cognitively
spontaneous
beliefs
in
this
way
explains
how

experience can make a difference to the justificatory status of our beliefs


experiences do this via their being reflected in a subset of our beliefs.
BonJour contends that in addition a coherentist must give an account of
how experiences must make a difference to the justification of some of our
beliefs. Here, he introduces the Observation Requirement: roughly, any
system of beliefs that contains empirically justified beliefs must include the
belief that a significant likelihood of truth attaches to a reasonable variety of
cognitively spontaneous beliefs.
Alternatively, Keith Lehrer (see chapter 6 of his 1990 book) calls on the fact
that a humans typical body of beliefs is going to include beliefs about the
conditions under which she reliably forms beliefs. Lehrer points out that
this belief is either true or false. If it is true, then in tandem with beliefs
about the conditions under which one formed some beliefs, plus the beliefs
themselves, the truth of the beliefs, and their being justified, follows. On the
other hand, if a belief about the conditions under which one reliably forms
beliefs is false, then the justification for the relevant belief is defeated (this
entails that one fails to know, though the belief still enjoys what Lehrer calls
"personal justification").
Third, a coherentist might challenge the assumption that experiences and
beliefs are distinct. On some views of perceptual states (for example, the
view that Armstrong defends in chapter 10 of his 1968 book), perceptual
states, or at least a significant class of perceptual states, involve, and entail,
believing. On these views, when one of the relevant perceptual states
supplies input from the external world, ones corpus of beliefs is provided
with input from the external world. The viability of this response turns on
the case for thinking that perceiving is believing.
b. Against Sufficiency: The Alternative Coherent Systems
Argument
A second argument against sufficiency coherentism connects in some ways
with the last argument. According to this second argument, for each system
of coherent beliefs, there are multiple alternative systems alternative
because they include beliefs with different, logically incompatible, contents
that are just as coherent. However, if there are plenty of highly, equally
coherent, but incompatible, systems, and if few of these systems do an

adequate job of faithfully representing reality, then coherentism is not a


good indicator of truth. Since this line of reasoning is readily knowable,
beliefs that coherently fit together are not, at least by virtue of their
coherence alone, justified.
The exact number of alternative systems that are equally coherent depends
on the exact details of what constitutes coherence. But like most of the
standard arguments for, and against, coherentism, the soundness of this
argument is not thought to turn on these details. Nor is it clear that
coherentists can reply by denying the view of epistemic justification invoked
in the argument. Even if one were to deny the externalist thesis which says
that the mark of justified beliefs is that they are likely to be true, in some
objective non-epistemic sense of "likely," epistemic internalism might not
provide refuge. For BonJour, Lehrer, and other internalists, beliefs that are
not likely, in the same externalist sense, to be true can be justified: for
example, my belief that there is a computer in front of me would be justified
even if I were a lifelong deceived brain-in-a-vat. But it is not clear that it is
reasonable, by internalist lights, to hold a coherent system of beliefs just
because they are coherent, while it is reasonable to believe that there are
plenty of alternative equally coherent, but incompatible, belief systems. So,
this objection might go through whether one weds coherentism to epistemic
externalism or internalism.
A sufficiency coherentist might try to respond to this argument in the same
way that she responds to the input problem. She might claim, for example,
that a sufficient bulk of a persons beliefs are cognitively spontaneous
beliefs. Since these beliefs are involuntarily acquired, they will constrain the
number, and nature, of alternative equally coherent systems that one could
have. Alternatively, a large bulk of our beliefs will be firmly in place if
perceiving is believing.
c. Against Necessity: Feasibility Problems
Lets turn to some arguments against necessity coherentism. It is highly
plausible that humans have plenty of justified beliefs. So, if justification
requires coherence, it must be psychologically realistic to think that each of
us has coherent systems of beliefs. How psychologically realistic is this?

Again, the answer depends, in part, on the make up of the coherence


relation. As we saw, coherence at a minimum requires logical consistency.
Christopher Cherniak (see Cherniak 1984) considers using a truth-table to
determine whether a system of 138 beliefs is logically consistent. If one were
so quick that one could check each line of the truth table for this long
conjunction in the time it takes a light ray to traverse the diameter of a
proton, it would still take more than twenty billion years to work through
the entire table. Since 138 beliefs is hardly an inordinate number of beliefs
for a system to have, it appears that coherence cannot be checked for in any
humanly feasible way.
While this sort of consideration might pose a problem for a position that
couples coherentism with internalism (as BonJour and Lehrer do),
coherentism itself does not require a person to verify that it is logically
consistent. It does not even require that a person be able to verify this. It
just requires that the system in fact be logically consistent. Still, there might
be problems in the neighborhood. One is that Cherniaks point might well
imply that we do not form, or sustain, our beliefs in virtue of their
coherence, since any cognitive mechanism that could do this would need to
be much more powerful than any mechanisms we have. Second, it is highly
plausible to think that we are often in a position to show that our beliefs are
justified; but Cherniaks point suggests that if coherentism were right, this
would often be beyond our abilities.
d. Against Necessity: The Preface Paradox
Another argument questions whether logical inconsistency, an obvious
mark of incoherence, really entails a lack of justification. Imagine an
historian who has just completed her lifelong book project. She has double
and triple checked each claim that she makes in the book, and each has
checked out. For each of the claims she makes, c1, .. cn, she has a justified
belief that it is true: she has the justified belief that c1 is true, the justified
belief that c2 is true, , and the justified belief that cn is true. At the same
time, she is fully aware of the fact that historians make mistakes. In all
likelihood, her book contains at least one mistake. For this reason, she is
justified in believing that at least one of the claims that she makes in her
book is false. But this yields a set of beliefs that is not logically consistent,
since it includes the belief that c1 is true, the belief that c2 is true, , the

belief that cn is true, and the belief that at least one of c1 through cn is false.
Some epistemologists, for example, Foley 1992, have argued that the
historian is justified in believing this set of logically inconsistent claims.
And, all of these beliefs remain justified even if she knows they are logically
inconsistent.
In response, the coherentist might appropriate any of a number of views on
this Preface Paradox. For example, John Pollock (1986) has suggested a
simple reason for thinking that the historians beliefs cannot be both
logically inconsistent and justified. Since a set of inconsistent propositions
logically implies anything whatsoever, adding a widely accepted principle
concerning justification will yield the result that one can be justified in
believing anything whatsoever. The principle is the closure principle:
roughly, it says that if one is justified in believing some set of propositions
and one is justified in believing that those propositions logically imply some
other proposition, then upon deducing this other proposition from the set
that one starts from, one is justified in believing that proposition.
A second set of cases involve beliefs that are logically inconsistent, although
this is unknown to the person who holds them. For example, while Frege
had good reason to believe that the axioms of arithmetic that he came up
with were consistent, Russell showed that in fact they were not consistent. It
is quite plausible that Freges beliefs in each of the axioms were, though
logically inconsistent, nonetheless justified (see Kornblith 1989). BonJour
(1989) responded to this case, as well as the Preface Paradox, by agreeing
that both Freges, and the historians beliefs, are justified. He claimed that
logical consistency is overrated; it is, in fact, not an essential component of
coherence.
e. Against Necessity: Counterexamples
There appear to be straightforward counterexamples to coherentism.
Introspective beliefs constitute an important class of such cases. On a broad
interpretation of empirical that encompasses sources of belief in addition
to the sensory modalities (one that contrasts with the a priori), introspective
beliefs count as empirical. Consider, then, my introspective belief that I am
in pain, or my introspective belief that something looks red to me. These

beliefs are not inferred from any other beliefs I did not arrive at either of
them by inference from premises. They are not based on any other beliefs.
In response, Lehrer (1990, p. 89) has suggested that a coherentist might
identify one, or more, background beliefs, and claim that, though the
introspective belief is not inferred from these background belief, the
introspective belief is justified because it coheres with the background
beliefs. For example, to handle the introspective belief that something looks
red to me, Lehrer points to the background belief that if I believe something
looks red to me then, unless something untoward is going on, the best
explanation is that there is something that does look red to me.
It is not clear that this response works. Let R be the proposition that
something looks red to me. Lehrers suggestion requires that coherence
holds between (i) R and (ii) if I believe R, then R. It is not clear, though, that
coherence does hold between these. Though they are logically consistent,
neither entails the other; moreover, they need not be inductively related to
one another; nor is it clear that either explains the other.

6. Looking Ahead
Intense discussion of coherentism has been intermittent. Two recent
defenses of the position, Laurence BonJours 1985 The Structure of
Empirical Knowledge and Keith Lehrers 1990 version of Knowledge,
significantly advanced the issues and triggered substantial literatures,
which mostly attacked coherentism. But undoubtedly, work on coherentism
has suffered from the fact that so few philosophers are coherentists. Even
BonJour, who did so much to reinvigorate the discussion, has abandoned
coherentism. See his 1999 paper for his renunciation. With the exception of
work being done by Bayesians, few epistemologists are presently working
on coherentism.
Epistemology would be better off if this were not so. For even if coherentism
falls to some objection, it would be nice if we had a better idea of exactly
what range of positions fall. Moreover, when it comes to the task of
clarifying the nature of coherence, an appeal can be made to many
foundationalists. While there might not be much motivation to develop a
position that one rejects, there is this: many foundationalists want to

incorporate considerations about coherence. As we saw, they usually do this


in one of two ways, either by allowing coherence to boost the level of
justification enjoyed by beliefs that are independently justified in some noncoherentist fashion, or by stamping incoherent beliefs as unjustified.
Defending these conditions on justification requires clarifying the nature of
coherence. So, it is not just coherentists that have a stake in clarifying
coherence.

Contextualism in Epistemology
In very general terms, epistemological contextualism maintains that whether
one knows is somehow relative to context. Certain features of contexts
features such as the intentions and presuppositions of the members of a
conversational contextshape the standards that one must meet in order
for ones beliefs to count as knowledge. This allows for the possibility that
different contexts set different epistemic standards, and contextualists
invariably maintain that the standards do in fact vary from context to
context. In some contexts, the epistemic standards are unusually high, and
it is difficult, if not impossible, for our beliefs to count as knowledge in such
contexts. In most contexts, however, the epistemic standards are
comparatively low, and our beliefs can and often do count as knowledge in
these contexts. The primary arguments for epistemological contextualism
claim that contextualism best explains our epistemic judgmentsit explains
why we judge in most contexts that we have knowledge and why we judge in
some contexts that we dontand that contextualism provides the best
solution to puzzles generated by skeptical arguments.
Table of Contents
1.

Introduction

2.

Subjunctive Conditionals Contextualism

3.

Relevant Alternatives Contextualism and Accepting Closure

1.

Dretske's Relevant Alternatives Theory of Knowledge

2.

Relevant Alternatives Contextualisms that Reject Closure

4.

Relevant Alternatives Contextualism and Accepting Closure

5.

Contextualism and Epistemic Rationality

6.

Other Forms of Epistemological Contextualism

1.

Explanatory Contextualism

2.

Evidential Contextualism

3.

Contextualism as a Theory of Knowledge

7.

Objections to Contextualism

8.

Alternatives to Contextualism

9.

Conclusion

10.

References and Further Reading

1. Introduction
Epistemological contextualism has evolved primarily as a response to views
that maintain that we have no knowledge of the world around us. Taking
quite seriously the problems presented by skepticism, contextualists seek to
resolve the apparent conflict between claims like the following:
1.

I know that I have hands.

2.

But I don't know that I have hands if I dont know that Im not a brain-in-avat (that is, a bodiless brain that is floating in a vat of nutrients and that is
electrochemically stimulated in a way that generates perceptual experiences that are
exactly similar to those that I am now having in what I take to be normal
circumstances).

3.

I don't know that Im not a brain-in-a-vat (henceforth, a BIV).

These claims, when taken together, present a puzzle. (1), (2), and (3) are
independently plausible yet mutually inconsistent. That (1) is plausible
seems to require no explanation. (3) is plausible because it seems that in
order to know that I'm not a BIV, I must rule out the possibility that I am a
BIV. Yet the BIV and I have perceptual experiences that are exactly similar
it seems to the BIV, just as it seems to me, that he has hands, that he is
sitting at his desk and in front of his computer, and so on. Accordingly, my
perceptual experiences give me no reason to favor the belief that I am nota
BIV over the belief that I am. Thus, since I have only my perceptual
experiences to go on, I cannot rule out the possibility that I'm a BIV.
Considerations like these contribute to (3)s plausibility.
Moreover, it seems that I can't know that I have handsand, in general,
that I cant know that I have any body at all if I can't rule out the
possibility that Im a bodiless BIV. This, then, contributes to the plausibility

of (2). It seems in addition that (2) always retains its plausibility, no matter
how high or low we set the standards for knowledge. Keith DeRose (1999a)
defends this claim by noting that it is always a comparative fact that my
epistemic position with respect to the claim that I'm not a BIV is just as
strong as my epistemic position with respect to the claim that I have hands.
If this is correct, then (2) is true across contexts, no matter what the
epistemic standards.
Yet in spite of the fact that they are independently plausible, (1), (2), and (3)
are mutually inconsistent; they cannot all be true. It seems, therefore, that
we must give up one of these claims. But which one should we give up, and
why?
In trying to answer these questions, contextualists maintain that 'know'
either is or functions very much like an indexical, that is, an expression
whose semantic content (or meaning) depends on the context of its use. For
example, the word 'here' is an indexical. I say, "Jaime is here," and what I
mean depends on where I am when I say it. If I'm in the conference room,
then I mean, all other things being equal, that Jaime is in the conference
room. 'I' is also an indexicalits meaning depends on the context of its use
and, in particular, on who is using it. When Jaime says, "I am in the
conference room," then he means, all other things being equal, that Jaime is
in the conference room. Yet when Julie uses 'I', she means something
different; Julies I means Julie.
If 'know' is an indexical, its semantic content (or meaning) will depend on
the context in which it is used. Furthermore, since context will affect the
semantic content of 'know', context will have an effect on the semantic
content of complex lexical items in which 'know' appears, for example, on
the semantic content of knowledge attributions like 'Jaime knows that he's
in the conference room. Contextualists have put the point this way:
the truth-conditions of knowledge ascribing and knowledge denying
sentences (sentences of the form 'S knows that P' and 'S doesnt know that
P and related variants of such sentences) vary in certain ways according to
the contexts in which they are uttered. What so varies is the epistemic
standards that S must meet (or, in the case of a denial of knowledge, fail to
meet) in order for such a statement to be true. (DeRose 1999a, p. 187)

Given this, contextualists maintain that (1), (2), and (3) do not in fact
conflict, even though it seems that they do. They suggest, first of all, that
some contexts set very high epistemic standards, standards according to
which knowledge requires a great deal. Contexts in which these high
standards are in play are typically those in which we are considering and
taking seriously certain skeptical hypotheses. For example, in order to know
anything at all about the world around us, these high standards might
require us to rule out the possibility that we are BIVs, or the possibility that
we are now dreaming, or the possibility that we are now being deceived by
an omnipotent but malevolent demon. Yet our perceptual experiences
afford us no evidence that would allow us to rule out these skeptical
possibilities, for if we were BIVs, for example, we would be having exactly
the same perceptual experiences that we're now having. Thus, we fail to
meet these high epistemic standards with respect both to the belief that I
have hands and to the belief that I'm not a BIV. (1) is therefore false in these
high-standards contexts while (3) is true. According to contextualists, then,
we should reject (1) in high-standards contexts. When we do so, we are no
longer faced with a conflict, for the conflict presents itself only when we
insist on the truth of each of the three mutually inconsistent claims.
Moreover, in rejecting (1) in high-standards contexts, contextualism gives
the skeptic his due, and takes seriously the compelling nature of skeptical
arguments.
Nevertheless, contextualists maintain that in most contexts, the epistemic
standards are comparatively low. Typically, these are ordinary contexts in
which we are considering no skeptical hypotheses. In such contexts, we can
have knowledge of the world around us without eliminating skeptical
possibilities like the BIV possibility. In order to know that I have a hand, for
example, I need eliminate only possibilities like those in which I have no
hands, or in which I have paws or claws instead of hands. Moreover, the
evidence provided by my perceptual experiencesthe evidence that I obtain
by looking at my hands, or by hearing the sounds made when I clap them
togetherdoes allow me to eliminate these possibilities. Thus, we can meet
the epistemic standards that are in place in low-standards contexts. (1) is
therefore true in these contexts while (3) is false. According to
contextualists, then, we should reject (3) in low-standards contexts. And
here again, in rejecting (3), we keep the conflict between (1), (2), and (3)

from presenting itself. Moreover, in rejecting (3) in low-standards contexts,


contextualism allows us to retain our ordinary knowledgeit allows us to
know the things we ordinarily take ourselves to know.
Yet if we are never actually faced with a conflict between (1), (2), and (3),
why does it seem as if we are? Contextualists respond in this way: Since we
most often find ourselves in low-standards contexts, we tend to evaluate
knowledge attributions according to the epistemic standards that are in
place in those contexts. Thus, we tend to reckon (1) true. However, since (3)
makes explicit reference to BIVs, our evaluation of that claim tends to lead
us to entertain the BIV skeptical scenario. Doing this can raise the epistemic
standardsit can push us into a context in which the epistemic standards
are quite highand so we tend to reckon (3) true. And so it seems that we
are faced with a conflict between (1), (2), and (3). Yet it merelyseems as if
we are faced with such a conflict. For, as we have seen, when the epistemic
standards are high, (1) is false while (3) is true. But when the standards are
lower, (1) is true while (3) is false.
Contextualism also allows us to explain why it seems in certain contexts that
we don't know that we have hands (for example). We make these epistemic
judgments at least partly because it's true in such contexts that we don't
know that we have hands. And we judge in other contexts that we know that
we have hands at least partly because such claims are true in those other
contexts. Thus, contextualism not only helps us to see our way out of
apparent conflicts like those between (1), (2), and (3), but it also helps us to
explain why we make the epistemic judgments that we do.
The most prominent forms of epistemological contextualism are based
either on Robert Nozick's subjunctive conditionals account of knowledge or
on the relevant alternatives theory of knowledge that is associated with Fred
Dretske and Alvin Goldman. The primary difference between these two
forms of contextualism is in how they characterize epistemic standards. As
we will see, the former characterizes the standards in terms of subjunctive
conditionals, while the latter characterizes them in terms of relevant
alternatives. We will consider subjunctive conditionals contextualism in
Section 2 and relevant alternatives contextualism in Sections 3 and 4. Some
forms of contextualism, however, are based on neither of these theories.
One such view is the version of contextualism that Stewart Cohen advocates

most recently, and we will consider this view in Section 5. Let us turn now,
though, to subjunctive conditionals contextualism.

2. Subjunctive Conditionals Contextualism


Keith DeRose provides an influential brand of epistemological
contextualism. It is intended to solve the puzzles generated by groups of
statements like the following:
1.

I know that I have hands.

2.

But I don't know that I have hands if I dont know that Im not a BIV.

3.

I don't know that Im not a BIV.

DeRose claims that in contexts in which the standards for knowledge are
unusually high, we should reject (1) and that the skeptic can truthfully say
in such contexts that I don't know that I have hands. In other contexts,
however, the epistemic standards are more relaxed and we can both reject
(3) and correctly say that I do know that I have hands.
DeRose's contextualist solution seeks to explain the plausibility of (3) by
utilizing resources provided by Robert Nozick. Specifically, DeRose's
solution appeals to the Subjunctive Conditionals Account (SCA) of the
plausibility of (3). According to SCA, "we have a very strong general, though
not exceptionless, inclination to think that we don't know that P when we
think that our belief that P is a belief we would hold even if P were false"
(DeRose 1999a, p. 193). DeRose calls the belief that P insensitive if it is one
that we would hold even if P were false. SCA's generalization thus
becomes: We are inclined to think that S doesn't know that P if we think
that Ss belief that P is insensitive.
DeRose claims that even though this generalization does not represent our
ordinary standard for knowledge, there are contexts in which the skeptic
puts it into place as the standard (for example, by mentioning skeptical
possibilities like the possibility that you are now a BIV). The standard in
such contexts is the skeptical standard, according to which my beliefs must
be sensitive if they are to count as knowledge. When this standard is in
place, as it is in skeptical contexts, I fail to know that I'm not a BIV. For my
belief that Im not a BIV is not sensitive: I would believe that I wasnt a BIV

even if I were a BIV. Moreover, since (2) is true in all contexts, it follows
that I don't know in skeptical contexts that I have hands. In this way,
DeRose's contextualism explains the plausibility of (3) and gives the skeptic
his due by arguing that there are contexts in which we should reject (1).
But DeRose wants to avoid the boldly skeptical conclusion that
I never know that I have hands, and he does this by arguing that in ordinary
contexts of knowledge attributioncontexts in which the skeptical standard
is not in place and in which the epistemic standards are comparatively low
we can reject (3). In these contexts, the skeptical standard is not in place,
and our beliefs need not be sensitive in order to count as knowledge. Thus,
we can truthfully assert in ordinary contexts that I do know that I have
hands. And, since (2) is true in all contexts, it follows that I know in
ordinary contexts that I'm not a BIV. In this way, DeRoses contextualism
explains the plausibility of rejecting (3) and allows us to retain the
knowledge that we ordinarily take ourselves to have.
According to DeRose, the relevant difference between these contexts is that
the standards for knowledge are quite high in skeptical contexts but
comparatively low in ordinary ones. But what accounts for this difference?
DeRose recognizes that he must "explain how the standards for knowledge
are raised [by the skeptic]" (DeRose 1999a, p. 206) if his solution is to be
adequate. Essential to this explanation is DeRose's Rule of Sensitivity:
When someone asserts that S knows (or does not know) that P, the
standards for knowledge tend to be raised, if need be, to a level such that S's
belief that P must be sensitive if it is to count as knowledge. (DeRose 1999a,
p. 206)
He then provides the following explanation of how the skeptic raises the
standards.
In utilizing [puzzles like those generated by (1)-(3)] to attack our putative
knowledge of O [where O is a proposition that we ordinarily take ourselves
to know], the skeptic instinctively chooses her skeptical hypothesis, H, so
that it will have these two features: (1) We will be in at least as strong a
position to know that not-H as we're in to know that O, but (2) Any belief
we might have to the effect that not-H will be an insensitive belief.... Given

feature (2), the skeptic's assertion that we dont know that not-H, by the
Rule of Sensitivity, drives the standards for knowledge up to such a point as
to make that assertion true. ...And since we're in no stronger an epistemic
position with respect to O than we're in with respect to not-H (feature (1)),
then, at the high standards put in place by the skeptics assertion of [(3)], we
also fail to know that O. (DeRose 1999a, pp. 206-7)
DeRose maintains, then, that the skeptic's assertion is the mechanism she
uses to raise the standards for knowledge. When the skeptic asserts that I
don't know that Im not a BIV, the Rule of Sensitivity is invoked, and the
standards for knowledge are raised to such a level that my beliefs must be
sensitive if they are to count as knowledge. And since my belief that I'm not
a BIV is not sensitivethat is, since I would believe that I wasn't a BIV even
if I were a BIVI do not know in skeptical contexts that Im not a BIV.
Thus, given the truth of (2), I do not know in skeptical contexts that I have
hands (or, for that matter, anything that I ordinarily take myself to know.)
Nevertheless, when no one mentions a skeptical hypothesis, the Rule of
Sensitivity is not invoked, and the epistemic standards allow beliefs to count
as knowledge even though they are not sensitive. This means that in
ordinary contexts, we are still in a position to know the things we ordinarily
take ourselves to know.

3. Relevant Alternatives Contextualism and


Rejecting Closure
Perhaps the main motivation for epistemological contextualism is now the
relevant alternatives theory of knowledge. There are two kinds of relevant
alternatives contextualism. One kind rejects the closure principle, according
to which knowledge is closed under known implication:
If S knows that p, and knows that p implies q, then S knows that q.
The closure principle is both plausible and explanatorily valuable. For one
thing, it helps to explain how we come to know things via deduction. I
know, for example, that tomorrow is Saturday. I know this because I know
that today is Friday and that if today is Friday then tomorrow is Saturday.
The closure principle helps to account for this knowledge, and the fact that I

come to know things via deductionand in accordance with the closure


principlerenders that principle both plausible and desirable.
A second kind of relevant alternatives contextualism accepts the closure
principle.
In Section 3.2, we will consider Mark Heller's relevant alternatives
contextualism, which represents accounts that reject the closure principle.
Before examining Heller's contextualism, however, we should consider the
theory that motivates it.
a. Dretske's Relevant Alternatives Theory of Knowledge
Fred Dretske proposes "to think of knowledge as an evidential state in
which all relevant alternatives (to what is known) are eliminated" (Dretske
2000b, p. 52). This is the relevant alternatives theory of knowledge, or RA.
But this leaves several questions unanswered.
First, what is an alternative to p? A proposition q is an alternative to p if
and only if it cannot be true both that q and that p. Thus, the proposition
that this animal is a Siberian grebe is an alternative to the proposition that
it's a Gadwall duck. For the animal cannot be both a Siberian grebe and a
Gadwall duck.
Second, what is a relevant alternative to p? Dretske says that a relevant
alternative is an alternative "that a person must be in a[n] evidential
position to exclude (when he knows that P)" (Dretske 2000b, p. 57). But
this doesn't help very much at all. What is it about the alternatives that S
must exclude that makes them such that she must exclude them?
Unfortunately, there is no widely accepted response to this question. The
vote seems to be split between two candidates. Some, including Dretske, say
that an alternative q is relevant only if there is an objective possibility that
q. But others say that q can be a relevant alternative simply because we
regard q as a possibility.
Third, what does it mean to eliminate a relevant alternative? Here, too,
there is disagreement. One view about elimination is the strongest view,
according to which S can eliminate a relevant alternative q only if her
evidence for believing not-q is strong enough to allow her to know that not-

q. A proponent of RA might instead adopt the strong view, according to


which S can eliminate q if her evidence for thinking that not-q
is either strong enough to allow her to know that not-q or strong enough to
allow her to have very good reason to believe that not-q. A proponent of RA
might also adopt the weak view, according to which S can eliminate a
relevant alternative q by meeting one of the following three conditions: (i)
her evidence for not-q is strong enough to allow her to know that not-q, (ii)
her evidence for not-q is strong enough to allow her to have very good
reason to believe that not-q, or (iii) S's belief that not-q is epistemically nonevidentially rational, where this is "a way in which it can be rational (or
reasonable) [for S] to believe [that not-q] without possessing evidence for
the belief" (Cohen 1988, p. 112). Some RA contextualists make it clear that
they have something like the weak view in mind (see Cohen 1988 and Stine
1976), but most fail to make it clear which of the three views they adopt.
Dretske argues that I can know that p without eliminating the irrelevant
alternatives to p. Still, he maintains that my knowing that p entails nothing
whatsoever about whether I know that q, where q is an irrelevant alternative
to p and might even be a necessary consequence of p. This amounts to a
denial of the closure principle. Suppose that the alternative that this is a
Siberian grebe is irrelevant to my knowing that it is a Gadwall duck. Notice
too that the negation of the former proposition is a necessary consequence
of the latter propositionif this is a Gadwall duck, then it is not a Siberian
grebe. Dretske claims that I can know that this is a Gadwall duck even
though I don't know that its not a Siberian grebe. Thus, Dretske holds that
the closure principle is false.
This verdict is quite controversial, however, and there is disagreement over
this matter even among proponents of RA. I see the lines of this
disagreement as boundaries between different kinds of RA theories, and we
can classify RA theories according to whether they accept or reject closure.
We might choose to do this partly because RA contextualists, as well as RA
theorists in general, tend to make it clear whether they accept closure, while
they do not always make it clear where they stand on other issues (e.g., on
the issue of relevance and on the issue of elimination). Primarily, though,
we should distinguish between RA contextualists who accept closure and
those who reject it because their views about closure crucially influence how

they respond to skepticism. As we shall shortly see, those who reject closure
deny one of the conflicting claims, namely, (2), the claim that I don't know
that I have hands if I don't know that Im not a BIV. So, according to RA
contextualists who reject closure, there really is no conflict at all between
claims (1) and (3). But according to those who accept closure, there is such a
conflict. For, by the closure principle, in contexts in which I don't know that
certain skeptical alternatives do not obtain, I also fail to know certain things
about the external world.
In Section 4, we will see how RA contextualists who accept closure respond
to skepticism. In the following section, however, we will examine the
response provided by RA contextualists who reject closure.
b. Relevant Alternatives Contextualisms that Reject Closure
Consider the puzzle that is generated by the following argument:
1.

I don't know that Im not a BIV in a treeless world (that is, a BIVT).

2.

If I know that there is a tree before me (call the italicized proposition T), and I
know that T implies my not being a BIVT, then I know that I'm not a BIVT.

3.

So, I don't know that T (given that I know that T implies my not being a BIVT).

In "Relevant Alternatives and Closure," Mark Heller follows Dretske's lead


and argues that we can solve this skeptical puzzle by rejecting the closure
principle, of which (5) is an instance.
To show why we should give up (5) (and hence the closure principle), Heller
argues for a particular interpretation of RA. He claims that (5) is false if his
interpretation of RA is true. He calls his interpretation Expanded Relevant
Alternatives, or ERA.
(ERA) S knows that p only if S does not believe p in any of the closest not-p
worlds or any more distant not-p worlds that are still close enough.
ERA accounts for our inclination to think, for example, that if I know that T,
I will not believe that T in any of the closest worlds in which it's not the case
that T. In addition, ERA accounts for our inclination to think that
something else is sometimes needed if I am to know that T. Imagine that
"the actual world is cluttered with papier mch tree facsimiles which S is

unable to distinguish from real trees" (Heller 1999b, p. 200). In this case,
we are inclined to say that S doesn't know that T even if she doesn't believe
that T in any of the closest not-T worlds. Here, even though worlds that are
cluttered with papier mch tree facsimiles are not among the closest not-T
worlds, they are close enough to the actual world to count as relevant. So
Heller claims that in at least some cases, if S is to know that p, she must not
believe that p in any of the close enough not-p worlds.
ERA provides the foundation for a relevant alternatives contextualism, for it
allows us to see different contexts as setting different epistemic standards.
Which not-p worlds count as epistemically relevantthat is, which not-p
worlds count as being close enough to the actual worldwill vary from
context to context. And since ERA characterizes epistemic standards in
terms of relevant alternatives (that is, in terms of relevant not-p worlds), it
allows for the context-sensitivity of epistemic standards.
In light of this, Heller maintains, we may solve the skeptical puzzle by
concluding that (5) is false. Note first of all that there are no contexts in
which I know that I'm not a BIVT. Given ERA, if I am to know that I'm not a
BIVT, I must not believe that Im not a BIVT in any of the closest BIVT
worlds. Thus, since I do believe that I'm not a BIVT in the closest BIVT
worlds, I don't know that Im not a BIVT.
Nevertheless, there are contexts in which I do know that T. This is true
because we use "different worlds as relevant alternatives when considering
whether [I know that T] from those used when considering whether [I know
that I'm not a BIVT]" (Heller 1999b, p. 197). According to ERA, I know in C
that T because I don't believe that T in any of the not-T worlds that are close
enough to the actual world. (And we need consider only the close enough
not-T worlds because those worlds include the closest not-T worlds.) So
given that ERA is true, (5) is false: I can know that there is a tree before me
(and hence evade the skeptic's snare) even though I dont know that I'm not
a BIVT. We can therefore solve the skeptical puzzle by giving up the closure
principle.
Any solution to the skeptical puzzle that denies the truth of (5) must explain
why it seems to us that (5) is true. In providing this explanation, Heller
argues that (5) seems true because some contexts conform to the demands

of the closure principle. For example, there are contexts in which


astonishingly distant not-T worldsfor example, worlds in which I am a
BIVTare close enough to the actual world to count as epistemically
relevant. In those contexts, I know neither that T nor that I'm not a BIVT.
For, in BIVT worlds, I believe both that T and that I'm not a BIVT. The fact
that there are contexts such as these, contexts that conform to the demands
of the closure principle, can make it seem that (5) is true.

4. Relevant Alternatives Contextualism and


Accepting Closure
Some relevant alternatives contextualisms accept the closure principle. In
this section, we will examine the contextualist theory espoused by Stewart
Cohen in his influential article "How to be a Fallibilist." Cohen's theory is
perhaps the most prominent relevant alternatives contextualism and should
be counted among the most notable of all contextualisms.
Cohen's contextualism, like others, is intended to solve certain skeptical
puzzles. The puzzle with which Cohen is concerned is familiarit consists of
three independently plausible but mutually inconsistent propositions.
1.

I know that I have hands.

2.

If I don't know that Im not a BIV, then I dont know that I have hands.

3.

I don't know that Im not a BIV.

To solve this paradox, Cohen relies on a relevant alternatives contextualism,


one that accepts the plausibilityand indeed the truthof proposition (2),
which follows from the closure principle (given that I know that my having
hands implies my not being a BIV). Cohen claims that in skeptical contexts,
contexts in which the BIV alternative is relevant, we should accept
propositions (2) and (3) but deny proposition (1). However, in ordinary
contexts, contexts in which the BIV alternative is not relevant, we should
accept (1) and (2) but deny (3).
Let's look at the details of Cohens account. For Cohen,

an alternative (to [some proposition] q) h is relevant (for [some person] S)


= df S's epistemic position with respect to h precludes S from knowing q.
(Cohen 1988, p. 101)
Cohen also claims that there are criteria of relevance and that these criteria
ought to reflect our intuitions about the conditions under which S knows
that q. He says that our intuitions are influenced both by conditions that are
internal and by conditions that are external to a person's evidence.
Accordingly, he offers two criteria of relevance. First, there is
the external criterion.
An alternative (to p) h is relevant if the probability of h conditional on
reason r and certain features of the circumstances is sufficiently high (where
the level of probability that is sufficient is determined by context). (Cohen
1988, p. 102)
By this criterion, the fact that there are a number of cleverly painted mules
in the zoo, whether or not I have any evidence for this fact, can be sufficient
to make relevant the alternative that this is a cleverly painted mule.
Presumably, if there are a number of cleverly painted mules in the zoo, it is
probable to some determinate degree d that this is a cleverly painted mule
rather than, say, a zebra. And according to Cohen, the context determines,
for example, that probabilities of degree d* and higher are sufficiently high
to render an alternative relevant. Thus, according to the external criterion,
if d is greater than or equal to d*, the alternative that this is a cleverly
painted mule will be relevant in this context.
Second, there is the internal criterion.
An alternative (to q) h is relevant if S lacks sufficient evidence (reason) to
deny h, i.e., to believe not-h (Cohen 1988, p. 103),
where the amount of evidence that is sufficient is presumably determined
by context. By this criterion, the amount of evidence that S has for her belief
that this is not a cleverly painted mule can be sufficiently low to make
relevant the alternative that it is a cleverly painted mule. We may again
presume that S has a determinate amount of evidence a for her belief that
this is not a cleverly painted mule. Here, the context determines, say, that

amounts of evidence a* and lower are sufficiently low to render an


alternative relevant. So if a is less than or equal to a*, the alternative that
this is a cleverly painted mule will be relevant in this context.
Both the internal criterion and the external criterion are sensitive to
context. According to Cohen, then,
there will be no general specification of what constitutes sufficient evidence
to deny an alternative in order for it not to be relevant, and as such, no
general specification of what constitutes sufficient evidence to know q.
Rather, this will depend on the context in which the attribution of
knowledge occurs. (Cohen 1988, p. 103)
But how do the standards of relevance shift? Cohen recognizes that he must
explain how this shift occurs if his contextualist solution to the skeptical
paradox is to work. Because Cohen thinks of reasons as statistical in nature,
he thinks that they advertise both the chance that we believe correctly on
their basis and the chance that we believe erroneously on their basis. When
the chances for error are highlighted, those chances become salient, and the
standards for relevance shift. Thus, highlighting the chances for error allows
certain alternatives to become relevant.
For example, suppose that I have reasons to believe that this is a zebra. It
looks for all the world like a zebra; it is in an area of the zoo that is clearly
marked "zebras"; I believe with good reason that zookeepers put only zebras
in areas marked "zebras"; and so on. But perhaps someone underscores the
fact that all of these reasons are compatible with this animal's being a
cleverly painted mule. Such mules look for all the world like zebras, and in a
pinch even the most conscientious zookeeper might put such creatures in an
area marked "zebras." Underscoring these facts makes salient the chance
that I believe erroneously on the basis of my reasons, and it makes relevant
the alternative that this is a cleverly painted mule.
This suggests that, for Cohen, the standards of relevance shift whenever
someone underscores the statistical nature of our reasons, whenever
someone points out that there is a chance that we believe erroneously on the
basis of those reasons. So, in ordinary contexts, contexts in which no one
underscores the chance that I believe erroneously, that chance will not be

salient, and I can know on the basis of my reasons that this is a zebra.
However, in skeptical contexts, contexts in which someone does underscore
the chance that I believe erroneously, that chance will be salient. In these
contexts, my attention will have been focused on the chance that I am
wrong, and the alternative that this is a cleverly painted mule will be
relevant. Since I cannot eliminate that alternative, I do not know that this is
a zebra.
Cohen suggests that his relevant alternatives contextualism allows us to
solve skeptical puzzles like those that focus on zebras and cleverly painted
mules. This is because his version of the relevant alternatives theory is
formulated in terms of evidence, and such puzzles involve beliefs for which
we can have evidence. But Cohen suggests that radical skeptical paradoxes
involve beliefs for which we can have no evidence"radical skeptical
hypotheses are immune to rejection on the basis of any evidence" (Cohen
1988, p. 111). As it is, then, Cohen's relevant alternatives contextualism
seems ill equipped to resolve radical skeptical paradoxes.
To overcome this difficulty, Cohen adjusts his version of the relevant
alternatives theory so that it takes into account beliefs for which I can have
no evidence. He claims that for some such beliefs it is epistemically rational
for me to hold them even though I possess no evidence for them. He calls
beliefs of this sort intrinsically rational beliefs. Among the intrinsically
rational beliefs is my belief that I'm not a BIV. According to Cohen, it is
rational for me to believe that Im not a BIV even though I have no evidence
for that belief.
Taking into account intrinsically rational beliefs, Cohen amends the internal
criterion of relevance. First, he says that
it is reasonable for a subject S to believe a proposition q just in case S
possesses sufficient evidence in support of q, or q is intrinsically rational.
(Cohen 1988, p. 113)
He then provides the following amended version of the internal criterion, or
ICa:

(ICa:) An alternative (to p) h is relevant if it is not sufficiently reasonable for


S to deny h (to believe not-h), where, presumably, the degree of
reasonableness that is sufficient is determined by context.
Cohen now notes that according to ICa: the alternative that I am a BIV is
not ordinarily relevant. For my belief that I'm not a BIV is intrinsically
rational. This means that the alternative that I am a BIV does not preclude
me from knowing, on the basis of my reasons, that I have hands. Thus, I can
know in ordinary contexts that I have hands (given both that my reasons are
sufficient for my knowing that I have hands and that all relevant
alternatives are eliminated). Furthermore, Cohen claims that since the
standards are comparatively low in ordinary contexts, I can also know in
those contexts that I'm not a BIV.
However, there are contexts in which the skeptic underscores the fact that I
can have no evidence for my belief that I'm not a BIV. By doing this, the
skeptic focuses my attention on the chance of error. According to Cohen,
this makes relevant the alternative that I am a BIV, and I cannot eliminate
that alternative. So, by the standards that apply in these skeptical contexts, I
know neither that I'm not a BIV nor that I have hands. In this way, then,
Cohen solves the radical skeptical puzzle while maintaining that closure
holds.

5. Contextualism and Epistemic Rationality


Certain objections have led Cohen to abandon the relevant alternatives
contextualism that he presents in "How to be a Fallibilist" and to revise his
contextualist solution to radical skeptical paradoxes. He is most troubled by
two objections. First, he is troubled by the idea that I can have evidence for
my belief that I'm not a BIV. Second, he is troubled by the idea that his
account commits him to the view that I can have a priori knowledge of
some contingent facts, in particular, of the fact that I'm not a BIV. On the
view that he presents in "How to be a Fallibilist," I can know that Im not a
BIV solely on the basis of the intrinsic rationality of denying that I am a
BIV. According to Cohen (see Cohen 1999, p. 69), this means that I can
knowa priori that I'm not a BIV and hence that I can have a
priori knowledge of some contingent facts. These two objections have led
Cohen away from his earlier relevant alternatives contextualism.

Even though Cohen now admits that I can have evidence for my belief that
I'm not a BIV, he still thinks that there are beliefs for which I can never have
evidence. He formulates a new radical skeptical paradox in terms of such
beliefs. Cohen asks us to imagine a creature that is a BIV but will never
have evidence that it is. Call such a creature a BIV*. Now, my belief that I'm
not a BIV* is a belief for which I will never have evidence. We can formulate
the following new paradox in terms of that belief.
1.

I know that I have hands.

1.

f I don't know that Im not a BIV*, then I dont know that I have hands.

2.

I don't know that Im not a BIV*.

Since this paradox involves a skeptical hypothesis for which I can never
have evidence, the idea that I can have evidence for my belief that I'm not a
BIV* should not trouble Cohens solution to this new paradox.
But given that Cohen has abandoned the relevant alternatives framework,
just what is his solution to the BIV* paradox? He notes first of all that my
belief that I'm not a BIV* can be intrinsically rational, or what he now
calls non-evidentially rational. Once again, S's belief that p is nonevidentially rational if it is epistemically rational for S to believe that p even
though S has no evidence for that belief. Furthermore, Cohen now suggests
that
S knows that p if and only if her belief that p is epistemically rational to
some degree d, where epistemic rationality has both an evidential and a
non-evidential component, and where d is determined by context. (see
Cohen 1999, pp. 63-69, 76-77)
Suppose, then, that I have a certain amount of evidence for my belief that I
have hands, and that my belief that I have hands is therefore evidentially
rational to degree de:. Suppose too that my belief that I'm not a BIV* is nonevidentially rational to some degree dne. Cohen claims that "the nonevidential rationality [of my belief that I'm not a BIV*] is a component of
the overall rationality or justification for any empirical proposition" (Cohen
1999, p. 86, fn. 36). So we may suppose that my belief that I have hands is
epistemically rational to degree d*, where d* equals de plus dne.

Cohen now says that the degree to which a belief must be epistemically
rational if it is to count as knowledge is "determined by some complicated
function of speaker intentions, listener expectations, presuppositions of the
conversation, salience relations, etc." (Cohen 1999, p. 61). He suggests that
the listeners' cooperation is an essential part of this function. He also claims
that in ordinary contexts this complicated function specifies that a belief is
sufficiently epistemically rational if it is epistemically rational to degree do.
And d*the degree to which my belief that I have hands is epistemically
rationalis greater than do. This means that I can know in ordinary
contexts that I have hands. "And since my having a hand entails my not
being a brain-in-a-vat [and a fortiori a BIV*], in those same [ordinary]
contexts, my belief that I am not a brain-in-a-vat is sufficiently rational for
me to know I am not a brain-in-a-vat" (Cohen 1999, p. 77). This allows him
to overcome the objection that I know a priori that I'm not a BIV, for "my
knowledge that I am not a brain-in-a-vat is based, in part, on my empirical
evidence (the evidence that I have a hand), and so is not a priori" (Cohen
1999, p. 76). In ordinary contexts, then, we accept propositions (1) and (7)
of the new radical skeptical paradox, but deny proposition (8).
But in skeptical contexts the complicated function specifies that a belief is
sufficiently epistemically rational only if it is epistemically rational to
degree ds. And d* is less than Ds This means that in skeptical contexts "my
belief that I have a hand is not sufficiently rational for me to know I have a
hand. In those same [skeptical] contexts, I have no basis for knowing I am
not a brain-in-a-vat" (Cohen 1999, p. 77). In skeptical contexts, we accept
propositions (7) and (8) but deny proposition (1). In this way, then, Cohen
solves the BIV* paradox while maintaining that closure holds.

6. Other Forms of Epistemological


Contextualism
Besides those already discussed, a few other forms of epistemological
contextualism warrant mention. We begin with the form that belongs to
Steven Rieber, which is most similar to those already considered.
a. Explanatory Contextualism

In "Skepticism and Contrastive Explanation," Steven Rieber provides a


contextualist solution to the skeptical puzzle generated when (1), (2), and
(3) are considered together. He first proposes the following analysis of
knowledge:
S knows that P iff: the fact that P explains why S believes that P. (Rieber
1998, p. 194)
He next claims that his analysis of knowledge "generates the sort of contextsensitivity needed to solve the skeptical puzzle" (Rieber 1998, p. 195). He
says that "what counts as an explanation is highly context-dependent. In
particular, as recent work on contrastive explanation has made clear, it can
depend on an implied contrast" (Rieber 1998, p. 195). For example, only
those who have syphilis contract paresis, but most of those who have
syphilis never get paresis. Suppose that Smith has both syphilis and paresis.
We might ask
(S) Does the fact that Smith has syphilis explain why he contracted paresis?
According to Rieber, the answer to this question can depend on what is
being implicitly contrasted with Smith. If there is an implied contrast with
Jones, who has neither syphilis nor paresis, then we understand (S) to be
asking
(J) Does the fact that Smith has syphilis explain why he rather than
Jones contracted paresis?
And the answer to (J) might well be yes. However, if there is an implied
contrast with Brown, who has syphilis but did not contract paresis, then we
understand (S) to be asking
(B) Does the fact that Smith has syphilis explain why he rather than
Brown contracted paresis?
And the answer to (B) might well be no. So it seems that whether one thing
explains another can depend on context. Thus, given Rieber's explanatory
analysis of knowledge, knowledge too will be context-sensitive.

Rieber's analysis of knowledge seems to him to be well suited to solve the


skeptical puzzle. He suggests that on his analysis of knowledge, to ask
(9) Do I know that I have hands?
is to ask
(9a) Does the fact that I have hands explain why I believe that I have hands?
Rieber claims that in ordinary contexts the answer to (9a) is clearly yes, and
so I know in such contexts that I have hands. Presumably, I also know in
those contexts that I'm not a BIV.
But a consideration of the BIV skeptical possibility can make salient a
contrast with that possibility. When this contrast is salient, we understand
(9) to be asking
(9b) Does the fact that I have hands rather than being a handless
BIV explain why I believe that I have hands rather than that I am a
handless BIV?
The answer to (9b) is no, for all of the evidence that I have for my belief that
I have hands is compatible with my being a handless BIV. And whenever the
answer to (9b) is no, so is the answer to (9). Thus, in skeptical contexts,
contexts in which a contrast with the BIV possibility is salient, we should
accept (3) but deny (1). The skeptic can truthfully say in such contexts that I
know neither that I'm not a BIV nor that I have hands.
Rieber's explanatory contextualism thus solves our skeptical puzzle. In
ordinary contexts, we accept (1) and (2) but deny (3). I know in such
contexts both that I have hands and that I'm not a BIV. However, when we
consider certain skeptical possibilities, certain contrasts become salient. In
these contexts, I know neither that I have hands nor that I'm not a BIV.
b. Evidential Contextualism
In "Contextualism and the Problem of the External World," Ram Neta
argues that the standards for knowledge are invariant, and therefore that we
should not see the skeptic as being able to raise those standards. We ought

instead to understand the skeptic to be restricting what can count as


evidence. The skeptic does this, according to Neta, by exploiting the
context-sensitivity of our attributions of evidence. When she brings up the
BIV skeptical hypothesis, for example, the skeptic restricts what I can
truthfully regard as my evidence to just those mental states that are
available to me whether or not I am a BIV. That is, she prevents any of my
current mental states from counting as evidence for my beliefs about the
external world, thereby creating an unbridgeable (in this context, at least)
epistemic gap between my evidence and my beliefs. In these contexts, my
beliefs fail to meet the epistemic standard and therefore fail to count as
knowledge. Still, in contexts in which I am considering no skeptical
hypotheses, I can have plenty of evidence for my beliefs about the external
world. In such contexts, my beliefs can meet the epistemic standards and
can therefore count as knowledge. In this way, Neta's version of
contextualism, like the other versions we've considered, is meant to resolve
familiar conflicts and to explain why we judge in most contexts that we have
knowledge but why we judge in other contexts that we don't.
c. Contextualism as a Theory of Knowledge
The last two forms of epistemological contextualism, those belonging to
Michael Williams and to David Annis, have few similarities with the forms
we've considered so far.
In his recent work, Williams argues for contextualism, which is, for him, the
view that "independently of all [situational, disciplinary and other
contextually variable factors], a proposition has no epistemic status
whatsoever. There is no fact of the matter as to what kind of justification it
either admits of or requires" (Williams 1996a, p. 119). His arguments for
contextualism also count as arguments against epistemological realism,
which is the view that even independently of contextual factors, there is a
fact of the matter as to what kind of justification a belief requires. In
particular, epistemological realism maintains the truth of the doctrine of
epistemic priority (or DEP). According to DEP, our beliefs about the
external world must be justified by sensory experience if they are to amount
to knowledge. Williams argues that epistemological realism in general and
DEP in particular are "contentious and possibly dispensable theoretical
ideas about knowledge and justification" (Williams 1999b, p. 144). He also

argues that skepticism depends essentially on these contentious ideas, and


that, being theoretical, they are not forced on us by our ordinary ways of
epistemic thinking. This suggests that skepticism is unnatural and thus that
the burden of proof belongs to the skeptic. Yet since the skeptic cannot carry
this burden, we have, according to Williams, no reason to take skepticism
seriously.
Annis' contextualism is meant to be an alternative both to foundationalism
and to coherentism. Annis complains that both foundationalism and
coherentism ignore the social nature of justification. According to his
version of contextualism, then, S is justified in believing that p only if she
can meet certain objections that express real doubts. These objections can
include, but are not necessarily limited to, those according to which S is not
in a position to know that p and those according to which p is false. We
might object, for example, that since S is not reliable in situations like this,
she is not in a position to know that the book on yonder shelf is brown.
Thus, if S is to be justified in believing that the book is brown, she must be
able to meet that objection. The justification of S's belief that p also
depends, according to Annis, on who offers certain objections and on
the importance of S's being right about p. It matters, for example, that it is
S's flight instructors, rather than her teasing friends, who object that she is
unreliable when it comes to distinguishing the colors of fairly distant
objects. A theory of justification that includes contextual parameters like
these, Annis argues, fares better than either foundationalism or
coherentism, both of which overlook the social nature of justification.

7. Objections to Contextualism
In this section, we will discuss two leading objections to epistemological
contextualism. These are by no means the only criticisms that have been
leveled against contextualism, but they introduce themes that have
motivated additional objections as well as alternatives to contextualism. A
discussion of these objections, then, should provide a center of operations
for an exploration of objections to contextualism.
Palle Yourgrau (1983) argues that contextualism allows for dialogues such
as the following since it claims that the standards for knowledge shift from
context to context:

A:
Is
that
a
zebra?
B:
Yes,
it
is
a
zebra.
A: But can you rule out its merely being a cleverly painted mule?
B:
No,
I
can't.
A:
So
you
admit
you
didn't
know
it
was
a
zebra.
B: No, I did know then that it was a zebra. But after your question, I no
longer knew.
This dialogue strikes Yourgrau as absurd, for it seems that nothing changes
during the course of the conversation that would account for a change in B's
epistemic state: B is in just as good an epistemic position at the beginning of
the conversation as she is at the end of the conversation, and so it seems
that if B knows at the beginning, she should also know at the end. This
suggests that, contrary to epistemological contextualism, we cannot affect
shifts in the standards for knowledge simply by mentioning certain
skeptical possibilities.
Contextualists (see DeRose 1992) have replied to this sort of objection by
saying that once A introduces a skeptical possibility and thereby raises the
standards for knowledge, B can no longer truly say, "I did know then that it
was a zebra." Once the standards for knowledge have been raised, the truth
of any attribution of knowledge, including an attribution that is meant to
apply only at some time in the past, must be judged according to those
higher standards. Once the standards have been raised, B cannot both
attribute knowledge to himself in the past and deny knowledge to himself in
the present. He should now only deny himself knowledge; once the
standards have been raised, neither B's past self nor his present self knows
that this is a zebra.
Stephen Schiffer has leveled a different sort of criticism at epistemological
contextualism. Again, contextualism maintains that we attribute knowledge
relative to standards that shift from context to context. This is to say, in
effect, that when we say that B knows that this is a zebra, we mean that she
knows relative to such-and-such an epistemic standard that this is a zebra.
Putting this another way, contextualism maintains that our knowledge
attributions are implicitly relative. Yet the contextualist's response to
Yourgraus objection suggests that Bor anyone else, for that matter
might fail to realize that our knowledge attributions are implicitly relative to

an epistemic standard that shifts from context to context. Schiffer argues,


however, that it is a general linguistic truth that speakers do realize that
certain attributions are implicitly relative. For example, anyone who utters,
"It's raining," in order to say that its raining in London knows full well that
shes asserting that it's raining in London. Yet, according to Schiffer, when
we utter, "B knows that its a zebra," we typically do not take ourselves to be
asserting that B knows relative to any standard. All this suggests, Schiffer
argues, that the contextualist is wrong to think that our knowledge
attributions are implicitly relative, and hence wrong to think that the
standards for knowledge can shift from context to context.

8. Alternatives to Contextualism
Objections like these push people away from epistemological contextualism
and toward theories that envisage epistemic standards that remain
invariant from context to context. Two such theories present themselves as
alternatives to contextualism. The first is skepticism, and the second is
Mooreanism. Both skeptics and Mooreans maintain that the standards for
knowledge do not shift. Yet while the skeptic claims that they are invariantly
quite high, the Moorean claims that the standards are invariantly
comparatively low.
The skeptic contends not only that there are no contexts in which we know
that we're not BIVs, but also that there are no contexts in which we know
that we have hands (see, for example, Unger 1975 and Stone 2000). This
response strikes some as implausible, however, since it does not accord with
the thought that there are many contexts in which we can and do know
things about the world around us.
The Moorean contends that there are never any insurmountable obstacles
to our knowing both that we have hands and that we're not BIVs.
Ernest Sosa's Moorean response begins with the rejection of Nozicks idea
that knowledge requires sensitivity (see Section 2). He argues instead that
knowledge requires safety, according to which S would believe that p only if
it were the case that p (see Sosa 1999, p. 142). Moreover, both my belief that
I have hands and my belief that I'm not a BIV are safe. Hence, both beliefs
can always count as knowledge. Sosa says that

after all, not easily would one believe that [one was not radically deceived]
without it being true . In the actual world, and for quite a distance away
from the actual world, up to quite remote possible worlds, our belief that we
are not radically deceived matches the fact as to whether we are or are not
radically deceived. (Sosa 1999, p. 147)
Yet if I can know across contexts that I'm not a BIV, why is it that it
sometimes seems as if I don't know that Im not a BIV? Sosa maintains that
since we can easily mistake safety for sensitivity, and since the belief that
we're not BIVs is not sensitive, it can sometimes seem to us that our belief
that we're not BIVs is not safe and thus that we dont know that were not
BIVs. Nevertheless, this is, according to Sosa, a mere appearance. For, since
our belief is safe, we can know across contexts that we're not BIVs and thus
adopt a Moorean response to our skeptical puzzles.
Tim Black also provides a Moorean response to these puzzles. Employing
Nozick's sensitivity requirement for knowledge, Black argues in "A Moorean
Response to Brain-in-a-Vat Scepticism" that the only worlds that are
relevant to whether or not S knows that p are those in which S's belief is
produced by the method that actually produces it. This means that BIV
worldspossible worlds in which S is a BIVare not relevant to whether S
knows that she's not a BIV. For BIV worlds are worlds in which her belief is
produced by a method other than the one that actually produces it. Thus,
since BIV worlds are not relevant to whether S know things about the
external world, S can know both that she has hands and that she's not a
BIV. This, too, suggests a Moorean response to our skeptical puzzles.

9. Conclusion
We have now characterized epistemological contextualism in a way that
allows several different theories to count as versions of that position. We
have seen in particular that epistemological contextualists maintain that
certain features of conversational contexts shape the standards that one
must meet in order for one's beliefs to count as knowledge. Understood in
this way, a fairly wide range of views will count as versions of
epistemological contextualism. Different versions will disagree
over which features of conversational contexts can shape the epistemic
standards, and over how the relevant contextual features help to shape

those standards. Yet in spite of the differences between versions of


epistemological contextualism, each seeks to achieve the valuable ends of
explaining our epistemic judgments and solving the puzzles that are
generated by skeptical arguments.

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