Time is a bankrupt, and a
thief. Have not you heard that time comes stealing on by night and
day? It is a riddle as old as the desert sands. To whence it is said
the greatest comedy, is that every life is tragedy. So it was that
fateful day, on the distant shores of Ephesus. An old man there found
his way, and by doom of death made haste to end his passing days.
“Merchant of Syracuse,”
the Duke said, as he drew near. “Plead no more, for it is our law
that no man from our rival city set foot upon these shores, lest he
sacrifice all his goods and pay tribute of a thousand marks.
Therefore by law, thou art condemned to die.”
“Yet this is my
comfort,” the old man said. “For when your words are done, my
woes end likewise with the evening sun.”
The guards gathered round,
as the Duke sat astride his steed. “This is most curious indeed.
Say in brief that cause that brought thee to this distant land. Why
would you risk your property, your life, and all the world that you
see? What brought thee to Ephesus?
The old man looked up at
the Duke. “A heavier task you could not impose, and yet I will tell
you of my grief, the heavy burden that I bear. For I was not always
as you see now. Like all, a younger man once was I, and a beautiful
wife did I wed. We were happy together, and yet, as a merchant, so
oft did I travel, that she desired that together we should be. So I
sent for her to join me in Alexandria. It was not long after that she
gave birth to sons, a set of twins, so alike, that none could tell
them apart. Twas that same night, at the self same inn, another woman
died in birth, yet she to gave birth to twin boys. So we took them as
our own, to watch over as the servants of our sons. My wife, proud,
wished to return home, and so together, we set sail to Syracuse.”
“As we made our way,
past the distant Straits, like Odysseus, the Gods then played their
trick upon us. For upon the deep, a mighty tempest swirled with the
rage of Poseidon, tearing our ship asunder in its mighty wrath. In my
arms, I held two of the boys, my wife the other. That was the last I
saw of them. For cast into the sea, I held onto the boys, for what
seemed an eternity, when to my good fortune, we were rescued by a
passing ship.”
As the years passed, my
son set sail for Delphi, where the oracle foretold his brother was
still alive, and so with his servant, they wandered the many shores,
to find his long lost twin, so that he might at last be as one. That
was many a year ago, and I have not heard of him since, and so I
boarded a ship, in search of them, until I landed upon these distant
shores.
Moved by his story, the
Duke answered. “I take pity upon you, and yet the law is the law.
It cannot be forsaken. Yet I will favor you as I can. I give you this
day, find what friends you can, and if you can pay your ransom, then
I will set you free. So beg or borrow what you can. Do this and live,
if not, then on tomorrows eve, thou art doomed to die.”
“Hopeless though it
seem, I will pray that the Gods thus deliver me.” Bowing his head
in humility, the old man followed the guards to the distant cell by
the sea.
Putting the book down,
Sherlock Holmes took his pipe, and slowly filled it. “Now Dr
Watson,” he said, “You have asked me many time on the art of
deduction, on how it is that I arrive at a given conclusion. Well I
have given this much thought, and I have found inspiration from the
immortal bard. The comedic writings of Shakespeare, where he delights
his audience with the absurdity of confusion and contradiction.”
“It is of much
interest to me,” the doctor answered. “When I hear you give your
reasons, the thing appears to me to be so ridiculously simple that I
could easily do it myself, and yet at each successive instance of
your reasoning, I am baffled until you explain, and yet my eyes are
as good as yours.”
“Quite so,” he
answered, lighting his pipe. “you see, but you do not observe. The
distinction is clear. For example, you have frequently seen the steps
that lead up to this room.”
“Frequently.”
“How often?”
“Hundreds of times”
“How many are there?”
“How many? I don't
know.”
“Quite so, there are
17,” Sherlock answered. “You have seen and yet you have not
observed, and this brings me back to the comedy of errors. As the
audience, in the first scene, you have observed. You know the secret
riddle in which our characters are plunged. It is they who only see,
and so find themselves in an absurd mystery, in which everything they
know is false.”
“Indeed,” Dr Watson
answered. “I am familiar with the play. If I recall, that same day
Antipholus, and his servant, who was he? Roger Daltry?, No it is
Dromio, I believe, that was his name. They arrive at Ephesus. And
there they meet Adriana, the wife of his brother, and yet she knows
him not.”
“To me she speaks,”
Sherlock laughed. “What was I married to her in a dream? Or sleep I
now, and think I hear this? What error drives my eyes and ears amiss?
Until I know this uncertainty, I'll entertain the offered fallacy.”
And so they are dragged off to dinner.
“In the meanwhile,”
Watson continued, “across town the brother has a chain commissioned
from the local goldsmith. For this he is charged a thousand marks,
for which his servant must retrieve. It seems most curious, that both
brothers are of the same name.”
“It is elementary, my
dear Watson, they were separated at birth. Since they looked the
same, both mother and father called them by the eldest name.”
Finishing his pipe, Sherlock continued. “This brings me to the task
at hand. How is it that we know that something is true?”
“Through science,”
Watson exclaimed, quite pleased with himself.
Sherlock began to rummage
through his drawer for his hidden stash. “Which science is that,
the one of Euclidean astronomy, where the Earth is at the center of
the universe, or that of Copernicus where the Earth orbits the sun?
Watson pondered the
question. “Are they not one and the same? It is puzzling, that this
is so, and yet the two take such contrary conclusions. They cannot
both be true.”
“Very good,” Sherlock
answered, having found his stash. “Then what does this tell us
about science?”
“That the goal of
science is to find truth, and that it is not truth in and of itself?”
“Indeed, it is the
purpose of science to find justified true belief. This is what we
would determine in the words of Aristotle, to be knowledge. In this
process we develop a theory, and then we seek to determine if it is
true.”
“How So?”
“We determine if it is
a better explanation for the facts.” Sherlock filled his pipe once
again. “To this end we must satisfy five basic criteria.”
“The first is
test-ability.
If our theory, or hypothesis is true, then in a given set of
circumstances, we would expect the following results. This is what we
call the process of experimentation. Of course we must be careful not
to give an ad hoc explanation to align our theory with the results.
If our theory cannot produce the predicted results, then our theory
is in error. The second is that our hypothesis is useful.
It must lead to correct
predictions, or it is of no value. The third criteria is the scope
of the theory. It must lead to the most correct predictions in the
greatest number of circumstances. Our fourth criteria, is simplicity,
or as stated in Occam's
Razor it
is futile to do with more things that which can be done with less.
Our final criteria is conservatism.
Our theory should not contradict that which is already known.”
“I see,” Watson agreed. “which brings us back to
our story. If I recall, there is a mix up, and Dromio retrieves the
thousand marks, and then gives it to the wrong brother. So when the
jeweler seeks payment, Antipholus has not the funds, and so he is
thrown in jail where he meets his long lost father.”
“Then we discover the hidden truth,” Sherlock
answered, puffing on his pipe. “It is the inherit problem of
knowledge. Gettiers dilemma. Dromio gave Antiphulos the thousand
marks. There is justified true belief, and yet it is not knowledge.
Because depsite all his best intentions, he gave the thousand marks
to the wrong brother. Hence we have truth, and not truth at the same
time.
“That is most puzzling indeed”
“One that has plagued humanity throughout time.”
“Then how should we determine truth”
Sherlock set down his pipe. “In the story, the
father recognizes his son, yet his son knows him not. As he tells his
tale, he mentions the name of his wife, who serves now as a nun in
the abbey, it is the old temple of Diana, where it is legend that the
Virgin Mary spent her final days, in Ephesus, a city of deceivers and
witchcraft, the Apostle Paul says. It is the city where John the
Baptist is beheaded in the Gospels. Upon hearing her name, the truth
is revealed, and she is summoned. Together they sit down and the
story is told to the Duke, and he forgives the old man his debt. The
family is united, and they live happily ever after, which brings us
to the moral of our story. The virtue ethics of Linda Zagzebski.”
Knowledge is a justified true belief that gets to the
truth rather than the falsehood, because of the intellectually
virtuous motives and behavior of the believer.
