Is Intution to Philosophy as Observation is to Science?

Is Intuition to Philosophy as Observation is to Science?

Intuition and observation are connected and perhaps inform one another. There are two dominant forms of proofs that form the pillars of philosophical reasoning: inductive and deductive. While, on the surface, they seem to be contrasting and somewhat contradictory directions of argumentation, they can be viewed as part of a, cyclical rather than linear, virtuous cycle in which the employment of intuition and observation both play vital roles.  Observation is necessary to validate and solidify intuition and intuition prompts more observation: a cycle that both philosophical and scientific reasoning require to succeed.

“I think, therefore I am” — Rene Descartes, 1637 Discourse on the Method.

The noted mathematician René Descartes came to the conclusion that he did in fact “exist”, using a line of scientific argument that originated from intuitive thought.   Intuition is typically an immediate judgment or instinctive feeling that does not involve sensory perception or require conscious steps of reasoning. For most people, they would not raise the question, much less try to answer, whether or not they existed.  However, Descartes not only raises a deep philosophical, and normally intuitive, question, but he uses measure of analysis to reach a conclusion that he and most scientists would say “is clearly and distinctly true”. 

With this in mind, it is appropriate to invoke the namesake of this competition: John Locke drew a contrast between intuition and demonstration as well.  Locke said, “Intuition can tell us directly that a circle is not the same as a triangle. But, when we examine more complex questions, we need to use demonstrative or explicit reasoning”.  For example, determining that the angles of a triangle sum up to two right angles is not derived intuitively. Locke would say that arriving at this mathematical conclusion required a series of steps to prove this knowledge; he referred to this as “demonstration”.  Demonstration requires conscious phases of action; whereas Locke believed intuition is instinctive and instantaneous, but his profound recognition was that intuition and demonstration are connected. Each individual step in demonstrative reasoning is intuitive.  Contemporary thinkers draw similar distinction by using a variety of labels.  Psychologists draw contrasts between implicit and explicit, heuristic and systematic and automatic and controlled thinking. The key difference according to leading psychologists such as Keith Stanovich and Jonathan Evans is the same difference John Locke noticed: when you go through a series of conscious steps you are performing the same virtuous cycle found in philosophy and science.  

This virtuous cycle consists of intuition, observation and subsequent analysis. For most philosophers, the origin of their questions is intuition.  With a question in mind, they then set out on the quest to reveal and point to observations that either validate or nullify their intuition.  These observations may be qualitative in nature, but are nevertheless verifiable and repeatable; these are elements that scientists seek as well. 

This is exemplified through examining the process by which the Utilitarian theory was refined. The Utilitarian concept introduced by Jeremy Bentham in the early 1800s began with a highly intuitive postulate: that the goal of decision-making should be to produce “the greatest good for the greatest number of people”.   He was inspired by the hedonistic theories first articulated by Epicurus: “We must, therefore, pursue the things that make for happiness, seeing that when happiness is present, we have everything: but when it is absent, we do everything to possess it.”  Bentham built on this Epicurean, Hedonistic observation and pronounced the guiding principal of his philosophy with the statement that “it is the greatest happiness for the greatest number that is the measure of right and wrong.” 

Bentham felt that every action could be measured (quantitatively) according to this principle.  He developed a formula in which happiness consisted of pleasure minus pain.  In the presentation of his calculus, Bentham proposed a classification of 12 pains and 14 pleasures (in the categories of intensity, duration, certainty, proximity, productiveness, purity, and extent) by which we might test the “happiness factor” of any action. Therefore, the consequences could be measured in terms of the level of ‘happiness’.  However, there were gaps in Bentham’s analysis. His disciple, John Stuart Mill, did not believe this to be a comprehensive view of society.  He believed that in order to view society in a holistic manner, both “quality” and “quantity” of pleasure should be represented in the calculus.  As a political economist and Member of Parliament, Mill was very interested in what generated the greatest social impact in a truly real-world, observable sense.  In this spirit, Mill introduced the idea of universality, which states that what is right and wrong for one person in a situation is right or wrong for all.  He argued: “happiness is desirable since we all desire it, happiness is the only desirable thing as an end, since things are only desirable because they bring about happiness. Therefore everyone ought to aim at the happiness of everyone, as increasing the general happiness will increase my happiness”.  This principle of utility was focused on the observation of actual impact and ultimately protecting the common good universally.   The result of Mill’s work was that legislation of society trended toward the goal of maintaining the maximum pleasure and the minimum degree of pain for the greatest number of people.   Mill would say that the only way to universally create fair laws and systems would be to step back and consider the consequences of our decisions.

In this example, we see the full cycle of intuition leading to a philosophical theory, which is then refined through the observation of impact.  We can see that Mill used observation to produce qualitative analysis, which forms the subsequent philosophical conclusion. This is the virtuous and valuable cycle of observation in philosophy. 

Conversely, for most scientists, it is perhaps the reverse of this cycle; the origins of their questions may also be intuition, but usually they stem from observations.  Some of the questions raised by visionary scientists, at the time their ideas were introduced, are seemingly intuitive.  With any question, the scientist must set out to find further evidence to the original observations to either support or nullify their hypothesis.  The scientist relies primarily, however, on quantitative, empirical evidence, which is ultimately verifiable and repeatable. 

With regard to early science, Democritus, who lived from 460 to 370 BC, thought intuitively about what makes up all visible matter and he coined the term “atom” derived from the Greek word Atomos, which means uncuttable. Only several millennia later did technology truly enable scientists to be able to view atoms and record observations to confirm their existence. This reaffirms the idea that observation is, indeed, used as a tool to verify intuition. Similarly, Aristarchus of Samos, who lived from 310-230 BC first theorized the heliocentric model that predicted that the Earth orbits around the Sun. This was purely intuitive; there was very little empirical observation available to him at that time. However, building upon this intuition, in the 16^th century, Galileo was able to scientifically prove that planets (including Earth) orbit the sun. He did this by building his own ‘spyglass’ telescope to observe our moon to understand its features. He later turned his attention towards Jupiter, the largest planet in our solar system where he observed and recorded that the bodies orbiting Jupiter were moons, not “stars” as was previously believed. Through this he developed his theory that stars do not orbit planets, moons do. This raised the question of the role that stars played in solar systems. He then began to observe Venus, the brightest celestial planet and its phases, where he confirmed that planets orbit stars (which in our case is the Sun). He then was able to use formulaic articulation to prove the observation, which originated from Aristarchus’s initial intuition, to prove that this was, in fact, the case.

For Einstein, he spoke of his dreams and the ‘thought experiments’ that flowed from his subconscious.  The idea that the universe is comprised of a ‘fabric of space-time’ was entirely intuitive and was only proven valid more than a century after his predictions were originally communicated.  There are numerous similar examples, as we progress scientifically to understand, which we cannot actually observe such as quantum mechanics, black holes, dark energy and dark matter. 

It is humbling to believe that, today, we cannot observe the dark energy and dark matter which comprise 95% of the mass of our universe.   According Physics Nobel Laureate Saul Perlmutter, “we called it dark matter, but dark refers to our ignorance, not to the color of the stuff”.   Before Perlmutter’s work was able to quantify the scale of dark energy, he had to be able to build on the intuition that started it all.  It was Fritz Zwicky who first postulated that the movement of planets in neighboring galaxies did not conform to the intuition of Newton nor his equations.   Indeed, until Vera Rubin’s discoveries in 1965, we based our most fundamental principles of gravity on Isaac Newton’s formulas, which were derived from observations and worked on modest scales, such as on our planet and our solar system.  This was Newton’s frame of reference. Rubin applied a much larger frame of reference to demonstrate that planets and solar systems moved differently at a galactic scale.  Specifically, she observed that planets and solar systems in Andromeda were all travelling at a constant rate of 250km/second despite how far these bodies were from the central ‘mass’ of that system.  Other scientists verified these observations and it became clear that the frame of reference of observations could affect our perception.  So, while Newton’s equations could reasonably and accurately predict the strength of gravity between objects on Earth, the equations wouldn’t hold in other frames of reference, such as neighboring galaxies.  It was Rubin’s observations that let us first surmise, and then quantify, the fact that there is invisible matter in the universe that is acting upon the celestial bodies in motion far from Earth. 

In this example, we also see that intuition leads to observation, which leads to quantitative analysis, formulaic articulation, and ultimately of the repeatability of outcomes.  However, the cycle doesn’t terminate here; instead, we continuously embark on new intuitions, new theories in the pursuit of new scientific discoveries.  

The illustration below summarizes the cycles through which both philosophical and scientific knowledge is refined.  They have different starting points, but they have very similar trajectories and enable the advancement of knowledge within their frames of reference: