4: EMERGENCE, EXISTENCE, AND EXPLANATION
I said at the end of the previous section that the alternative account I had given of our relationship with the world was one characterized by emergence. But this is a notion that can take a number of different forms; for example, Robert van Gulick (2001) distinguishes between no less than ten different types of emergence. Therefore I obviously need to provide more details about the way in which the developing metaphysical account may be said to be an emergent account.
On the one hand, there are what might be termed 'strong' versions of emergence. For
example, van Gulick describes a variant that he terms 'radically emergent causal
powers', where a higher level system has features that are not in any way determined
by the properties or relations belonging to its constituents. The suggestion is that
the higher level has causal powers that act independently of the causal powers that
operate at lower levels. For example, one might imagine a 19th century biological
vitalist, who explains that, although living beings are certainly not immaterial,
the fact that they have 'life' cannot in any way be accounted for by the arrangement
of their material parts; no matter how much we cut-
However, there is no mystery about other sorts of emergence. For example, consider the mass of a block of lead. This mass (e.g. precisely 1 kilogram) is emergent in the sense that it is something that is possessed by the block but which is not possessed by any of the block's parts, for example its molecular constituents. In fact, this seems so innocuous that one might be inclined to query the use of the term 'emergent' in this instance, but the point to appreciate is that there is nothing that is necessarily mysterious about the fact that a whole can have properties that do not belong to its parts.
Given this range in potential interpretations of the concept of emergence, I need
to clarify the sense in which I have used the term. Let me start by considering the
distinction, made by van Gulick (2001) among others, between ontological emergence
and epistemic emergence. Ontological emergence concerns real-
Frequently the dual existence of living systems in particular, and of systems in general, is obscured by the notion of emergent properties. By treating the features that an observer distinguishes in a system as if they were intrinsic to it, the notion of property obscures the relational nature of these features. ... So, to speak of emergent properties in the constitution of a system is both a mistake and misleading. As a system is constituted as a totality, a new domain arises, the domain in which the system exists as that totality. To say that autopoiesis is an emergent property would be a mistake. To say that the constitution of an organism gives rise to emergent behavior would also be a mistake ... (Maturana 2002).
The science journalist John McCrone (2001) would agree with Maturana here, since he writes:
A gas is orderly within a physical context. Under certain gravities, states of containment,
etc, it has an orderly statistical behaviour once it has reached equilibrium. So
it gains emergent properties such as temperature, pressure, combustibility. But this
order is only being appreciated from the outside. ... all the observing ... is external
to the system. The gas can only meaningfully be considered 'a gas' -
Therefore ontology, as the description of what sorts of items can be said to exist,
has an irreducible epistemic element to it -
2) Existence and Hypostatization
A consistent theme throughout the previous two sections, Mirroring Reality and An
Alternative Metaphor, was that 'objects' do not exist in some manner that is completely
independent of human thought or activity.2 This suggests the possibility that we
may on occasions inappropriately treat something as an object. Improperly treating
a concept or abstraction as a concrete object is termed reification or hypostatization.
For example, if someone believes that a mental image of a tiger has to have a determinate
number of stripes, then they would be reifying mental images by assuming that they
have all the attributes of physical objects. Another frequently used example of reification
is the belief that, because we can try and measure intelligence using a single IQ
number, intelligence must therefore be a single trait in humans, as opposed to a
One reason behind the temptation to reify would seem to be the prevalence of objects
in the physical realm that we inhabit as humans, or 'medium sized, dry goods' as
J. L. Austin termed them. We can unthinkingly transfer the sorts of properties that
we associate with such objects (e.g. essences, causal effectiveness, and temporal-
Given that the existence of objects is relative, hypostatization is relative as well, and the correctness or otherwise of treating something as an object is itself context sensitive. This can be seen in the discussion of reification in the The New Fontana Dictionary of Modern Thought (ed. Bullock & Trombley 1999):
An analysis of any relationship in a complex world involves a process of simplification through a set of abstractions in which certain aspects of a given phenomenon are selected and stressed for heuristic purposes. These abstracted elements of reality may be reduced to an ideal type or a conceptual model. If they are taken as a complete description of the real phenomenon and the resulting abstractions endowed with a material existence of their own, the process exemplifies what [Whitehead called] 'the fallacy of misplaced concreteness', which is in effect a special case of the fallacy of reification.
I want to use the term hypostatization, rather then reification, because I think that the former term provides the nuance that we take something that is initially conceived of as an activity and then incorrectly treat it as an object that is in some way separate from the activity with which we started. Consider an example referred to by Susan Hurley in her book Consciousness in Action (1998, note on p. 412). It is quite possible for a system to exhibit rational behavior, even if it isn't possible to describe any of the components of the system as rational; rationality might be an emergent property of the entire system. Now rationality is a generic description of certain human activities, and to assume that we must be able to trace rationality to certain components of our cognitive system (i.e. that we are rational because something in our brain is rational) is, I suggest, a hypostatization of the concept of rationality. If you like, people can be rational, but their brains cannot be. Similarly, psychologists do not normally look for something called 'anger' but rather they seek the mechanisms and processes that produce the behavior that we classify as expressing anger.
Of course, there is a point at which the hypostatization of activities does make sense. At some level of analysis, we will no doubt be justified in taking a hypostatized term to be an entity. Whether a hypostatization is appropriate depends on the purpose for which the attribution is made and at which level of description. A particular temptation is to reify the concepts that we generate as part of our scientific heuristics. Husserl, for example, considered that certain 'methodological devices of the sciences, chiefly idealisation and objectification, have been misunderstood such that their objects are thought to yield the natural world as it is in itself ...' (Moran 2000, p. 143). As Husserl suggests, we must be careful not to confuse scientific methodology with ontology.
The context sensitivity of whether something can be said to be 'incorrectly' treated
as an object suggests that there is a sense in which all objectification is reification.
Consider, for example, Quine's comments (1995, pp. 24, 36-
The conjunction ['Black and dog'] describes any scene in which black and dog are both salient, whereas 'Black dog' requires that they be situated together, the black patch engulfing the canine patch. The predication expresses the compact clustering of visual qualities that is characteristic of a body. Bodies are our first reifications ... . It is in analogy to them that all further positing of objects takes place. ... Typically a body contrasts with its visual surroundings in color and in movement or parallax, and typically it is fairly chunky and compact. ... [A further step is] the transcending of the specious present. ... To begin with, we recognize a recurrent body merely by strong perceptual similarity. ... Next we distinguish fixed bodies from vagrant ones by the locomotive effort on our own part that accompanies the disappearance and recurrence of a fixed body. ... Our science at length progresses to where qualitative indistinguishability is neither necessary nor sufficient for identity. A body can grow, shrink, discolor.
So hypostatization can be seen as a natural, but potentially problematic, cognitive trait. The specific sort of misplaced usage of hypostatization that I have in mind is, in general terms, as follows: (i) we classify certain activities as being of a particular type; (ii) this leads to the concept of that sort of activity; (iii) we then treat that concept as a hypostatization; (iv) we start arguing as if the hypostatization is available as an explanation of the activities that we considered at the outset; (v) but the hypostatization is ontologically superfluous and circular as an explanation.3 To use Brian Cantwell Smith's terminology, it is an inscription error.
3) Hypostatization and Metaphor
On this account, hypostatization is closely related to the use of metaphor, which increases our ability to understand a particular situation or a domain of thought by relating it to another situation or domain with which we are more familiar. Max Black (1993) provides a good description as to why we often resort to metaphor: 'the available literal resources of the language [are] insufficient to express our sense of the rich correspondences, interrelations, and analogies of domains conventionally separated; and ... metaphorical thought and utterance sometimes embody insight expressible in no other fashion.' On the one hand, we can emphasize the positive side of metaphors, that they assist us in articulating novel ideas, including theories that our existing literal language may not be flexible enough to allow (Boyd 1979). On the other hand, we may mistakenly take metaphors as being themselves explanations, rather than useful (re)descriptions, and in such cases they may give us an unwarranted feeling that something has been fully understood simply by use of the metaphor (Pylyshyn 1979).
The psychologists George Lakoff and Mark Johnson have suggested that much of our cognitive activity depends upon metaphoric thought processes, even if the metaphorical element is not immediately apparent (Lakoff & Johnson 1980, Lakoff 1987, Lakoff & Johnson 1999). They explain (1980, p. 115) that '[b]ecause so many of the concepts that are important to us are either abstract or not clearly delineated in our experience (the emotions, ideas, time, etc.), we need to get a grasp on them by means of other concepts that we understand in clearer terms (spatial orientations, objects, etc.).' Of particular interest is Lakoff and Johnson's description of ontological metaphors, whereby we view events, emotions, and activities as if they were physical objects; as such they can be referred to, categorized, and hence reasoned about (1980, p. 25). As an example, they give the experience of rising prices, which can be metaphorically viewed as an entity by terming it inflation. Then we can say 'inflation is lowering our standard of living', 'we need to combat inflation', and so on. Lakoff and Johnson (1980, p. 28) say that it is so natural to use such metaphors that we often take them as direct descriptions, especially where they relate to mental phenomena, e.g. 'he broke down':
If you say 'The odds are against us' or ' We'll have to take our chances,' you would not be viewed as speaking metaphorically but as using the normal everyday language appropriate to the situation. Nevertheless, your way of talking about, conceiving, and even experiencing your situation would be metaphorically structured (1980, p. 51).
In Lakoff and Johnson's view (1980, pp. 56-
Or rather, our conceptualizations contain substantial metaphoric elements: for there
is no clearly drawn distinction between directly experienced concepts and metaphorical
concepts. Indeed, we tend to experience things as a gestalt, as a set of properties
that belong together (1980, pp. 53-
There is an underlying dissonance inherent in our use of metaphors as part of our
conceptual and cognitive apparatus. Any one set of metaphors cannot hope to fully
capture the complexity of reality and of our lives; we therefore tend to use multiple
metaphors, and these can contradict each other in certain respects (Lakoff & Johnson
1999, pp. 71, 78). Accordingly, we frequently need to shift from one set of metaphors
to another set (Lakoff & Johnson 1980, pp. 220-
Lakoff notes that the traditional objectivist view is based on the notion of truth;
accordingly, in a situation where we have more than one way of describing a situation,
or of modeling the world, each of which fit the facts, the objectivist view cannot
find any way to assess the appropriateness or otherwise of the different descriptions
or models (Lakoff 1987, p. 201). In Women, Fire, and Dangerous Things (1987), Lakoff
is primarily concerned with showing that this traditional, objectivist, view of meaning
and rationality is incoherent. The traditional view is summarized by Lakoff (1987,
p. xii) in a manner that is very similar to Putnam's characterization of metaphysical
realism: (i) rational thought consists of the manipulation of symbols; (ii) these
symbols get their meaning from a correspondence with the world, and therefore represent
the things in the world; (iii) the world is construed as objective, in the sense
that it has certain properties independent of our understanding of it. Central to
this view is the notion of a category, since words and concepts usually represent
types of things, rather than individual things, and the traditional view is that
we place things in the same category if (and only if) they have certain properties
in common. Lakoff emphasizes that this last point is a philosophical position, based
on a priori grounds, and that the psychological, linguistic, and anthropological
evidence shows that this position is not empirically supported, causing major difficulties
for the traditional or 'objectivist' view (see Lakoff 1987, pp. 12-
Nevertheless, we frequently tend to behave as if the objectivist view of truth were always appropriate. One aspect of this is our tendency to overuse our metaphors, resulting in the sort of hypostatization that I described above. A key element in hypostatization is that we take a metaphoric expression that isn't obviously such and then draw implications as if it were fully literal, thereby ignoring other aspects of the situation that are hidden by the hypostatization, and arriving at spurious conclusions by assuming that the hypostatized entity behaves like an object in all respects.
In Lakoff and Johnson's opinion (1999, pp. 118-
Lakoff and Johnson suggest that there are a number of basic concepts that seem to
emerge directly from our activity as conscious, embodied humans, and which we utilize
in the categorization of our experiences. These include (i) causation, (ii) participants,
(iii) parts, (iv) stages, (v) linear sequence, (vi) purpose. If we have a gestalt
with these dimensions, then we can perceive coherence in our experiences by understanding
them in terms of such gestalts (1980, pp. 81-
The discussion so far suggests that we might consider an 'object' to represent a set of implications which is typical, or (perhaps better) which is seen to be reliable from the perspective of our everyday expectations or the methodology of science (whereas a metaphor might be considered to represent a much looser set of implications that is of use in imaginatively examining possibilities). The typical implications of an object will often consist of its actions or the results of those actions. So we might consider it to be the case that things are what things do.
4) Parts and Wholes
Much of our modern, Western understanding can be characterized as a reductionist understanding, whereby one thing is reduced to some other thing(s). I want to reconsider our concept of reduction in light of the above discussion concerning hypostatization and metaphor, and the best place to start, I think, is with the notions of parts and of wholes. The discussion so far suggests that 'parts' and 'wholes' do not exist in and of themselves, independent of our perception and description of things. To quote James H. Austin (1998, p. 550): 'We and the pebble are still integral parts of one and the same ongoing universe. It is still a universe undivided. It has never been split up by such artificial distinctions as minutes, first names, rock names, or place names. It is, in its suchness.' These distinctions and objectifications depend on our cognitive processes and on our interactions with the world. Therefore the idea that objects are 'put together' in some way from their parts is not the only way of viewing the relationship between them. Brian Cantwell Smith (1996, p. 270) voices an alternative when he says that 'The pieces are (partially) sedimented or extruded from the whole; the whole is not put together from the pieces ... .' This is because, for Smith, individuality is not, ontologically speaking, a fundamental feature of the world.
George Lakoff (1987, pp. 47, 51) believes that Tversky and Hemenway (1984) provide a suggestive explanation as to why our normal conception of the relationship between parts and wholes is such a strong one. An object's functions are usually strongly related to what we perceive to be its parts; the way we perceive an object depends on its shape, which is in turn related to the object's parts; we interact with objects through their parts; and so on. So our basic knowledge of physical objects is largely correlated with the division between wholes and parts. For basic objects, says Lakoff, the distinction between different parts, and the resulting interactional properties, will appear to us to be objective.
This might be interpreted as a claim that analyzing things in terms of their parts is somehow a 'natural' form of explanation. But I want to block such an understanding at the outset. After all, Lakoff's whole approach is based on the use of metaphor, even if the ultimate grounding of our metaphorically derived concepts and explanations is our existence as bodies in a physical world. Rather, I want to suggest that the metaphorical nature of our explanations and our concepts means that we can never have a single, straightforward understanding of the world. This means that there will always be a difference of some sort between considering something as a whole and considering its parts. Maturana (1970) seems to make the same point when he says:
In principle a part should be definable through its relations within the unit that it contributes to form by its operation and interactions with other parts; this, however, cannot be attained because the analysis of a unit into parts by the observer destroys the very relations that would be significant for their characterization as effective components of the unit. Furthermore, these relations cannot be recovered through a description which lies in the cognitive domain of the observer and reflects only his interactions with the new units that he creates through his analysis. Accordingly, in a strict sense a unit does not have parts, and a unit is a unit only to the extent that it has a domain of interactions that defines it as different from that with respect to which it is a unit ... .
I interpret Maturana as saying that, if we consider something as a part, then we
are objectifying it as such and consequently understand the total situation from
a different perspective than if we had considered as an object the whole to which
the part belongs. And if we try to understand the part and then understand the whole,
we will find that we generate problems for ourselves, because our cognitive relationship
to what we are considering is different in the two cases. As Roberto Poli (1999)
describes it: 'In principle it is always possible to take a part of [a] whole and
analyze it as a whole. This means that the element is analyzed in and of itself,
without being considering in terms of its connections / functions / dependences vis-
Poli's view of the relationship between wholes and their parts derives from a view of the universe as flux that owes much to Brian Cantwell Smith. Accordingly, he views objects as regions of relative stability within this flux and emphasizes the importance for ontology of processes and relationships. He therefore sees objects as necessarily complex and their parts as representing the object's significant relationships, both internally and externally:
To take up and generalize a remark by Bohm, we should 'give up altogether the notion
that the world is constituted of basic objects or "building blocks". Rather, one
has to view the world in terms of universal flux of events and processes' ... [This]
assumption of anti-
5 Reduction and Explanation
These conclusions concerning the nature of the relationship between wholes and their parts affect our understanding of analysis and of reduction.4 For example, in order to provide a reductive explanation of something, I have to have a description of its parts and then relate those parts to the aspects of the whole that I wish to explain. But my conception of a whole has to be understood in a somewhat different context than my conception of its parts (i.e. the parts as they are themselves and not as merely elements that are dependent on the whole). This suggests the likelihood that I will encounter difficulties in fully accounting for the relation between the whole and its parts. From this perspective, both complete epistemological reduction and complete ontological reduction are problematic. It is not the case that I can fully understand the whole in terms of its parts, nor is it the case that the properties of the whole can be fully reduced to the properties of the parts.
Perhaps it is the case that we can perform analysis and reduction precisely because
we ourselves are a part of the whole, embedded in the universe, and therefore have
a perspective from which parts and wholes are meaningful categories by which to parse
the world, (which in turn suggests that analysis and reduction would be impossible
if we had the perspective given by a 'view from nowhere'). I referred above to John
McCrone's suggestion that the behavior of a gas is only evident if we think of the
gas as an entity that is in some way not identical to 'a lot of particles'; if we
concentrate on just the particles, then that is all we have -
... the microscopic and the macroscopic may only be contextually separable from one another. Such properties warn us not to reify the layered conception of the world. The standard divisions and hierarchies between phenomena that are considered fundamental and emergent, simple and aggregate, kinematic and dynamic, and perhaps even what is considered physical, biological and mental are redrawn and redefined. Such divisions will be dependent on what question is being put to nature and what scale of phenomena is being probed. It is true that science is divided into hierarchical descriptions and theories, but given mereological emergence, this might be only an epistemological artifact of scientific explanatory practice and not a fact about the world.
More generally, I want to emphasize here the idea that explanation is part of our human involvement in the world, and should not itself be hypostatized into some form of transcendent knowledge of the universe 'as it really is'.5 The significance of reduction and analysis for our understanding of the world derives instead from the universe's dynamic and relational nature, but precisely because of this it can produce (as Maturana and Poli suggest) only a partial understanding.
Having worked through some of the general implications of an emergent metaphysics, I now want to turn to an area where there may be more specific lessons: that of the explanation of our own conscious experience, which remains one of the most contentious areas of Western philosophy.
(references should be to: http://www.holli.co.uk/emergence.htm)
Initial draft started: September 2002
This version started: July 2004
Last updated: July 2005
 To give a further (and rather extreme) illustration: if we identify some large
group of atoms as 'a star', then we are placing importance on atoms that are near
to other atoms -
 Susan Oyama (2000, p. 63) gives an excellent description of the tendency to make this error in discussions concerning biology. She refers to the evolutionary theorist Ernst Mayer, who, she claims:
rightly criticizes the reification of processes, like 'life' and 'mind', [but] sometimes fails to heed his own good advice ..., turning regular, organized ontogenetic, physiological, and behavioral processes into things, programs, that are then used to explain the processes.
 See van Gulick 2001 for a categorization of the different types of views that
are labeled 'reductionist'. The whole area of reduction, and its implications for
the sense in which anything may be called emergent, is a contentious one in the philosophical
literature. A flavour of the debate can be obtained from Bickle 1998, Kim 1998, Silberstein
2001, and Huttemann 2004. One interesting topic is that of inter-
More generally, there is a tendency for reductive explanations to have something of a bad name, since many see them as holding that the entity to be reduced is 'nothing but' something else. We must, however, distinguish between (i) ontological reduction, the question of whether the world is nothing but the fundamental constituents of reality, or at least determined by such constituents, and (ii) epistemological reduction, which relates to whether our scientific theories about the world can be reduced to or identified with our theories about the fundamental constituents (Silberstein 2001, p. 67). The type of metaphysics that I have outlined finesses many of the difficulties; the following section on Consciousness will, I hope, give a more specific example.
 From Maturana's perspective, we often misunderstand the nature of explanation because we have been misled by the standard metaphysical picture. This picture implied that a theory or an explanation 'mirrored reality' and accordingly ignored how the theory or explanation related to the observer who derived or adopted it. Therefore, most attempts at explanation assume a unique 'reality', which acts as a measure of the correctness of the explanation:
... in this explanatory path, the assumption by different observers of different kinds of independent entities as the ultimate source of validation of their explanations constitutively leads them to validate with their behaviour different, and necessarily mutually exclusive, universes, realities or domains of objective explanations (Maturana 1988a).
Accordingly, claims Maturana, we tend to believe that someone who does not accept
an argument that we put forward must have done so simply because they are unintelligent,
or acting in bad faith. But the domain in which an explanation is understood is the
domain of the observer's life-