Showing posts with label infinitesimal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label infinitesimal. Show all posts

8 Jun 2014

Russell, Ch.41 of Principles of Mathematics, ‘Philosophical Arguments Concerning the Infinitesimal’, summary notes

 

by Corry Shores
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[The following is summary and quotation. All boldface, underlining, and bracketed commentary are mine. Please see the original text, as I did not follow it closely. Proofreading is incomplete, so mistakes are still present.]

 


 

Bertrand Russell


Principles of Mathematics


Part 5: Infinity and Continuity


Ch.41: Philosophical Arguments Concerning the Infinitesimal





Brief Summary:

The concept of the infinitesimal as it is used in calculus involves the idea that there is a sequence of consecutive infinitely small values. But were this to be true, then there would be a one-one correspondence between the terms of one series and those of the other to which the first is being differentially related, resulting always in the ratio 1/1. However, calculus finds these differential ratios to have many values other than 1/1. So the infinitesimal leads to contradictions and must not be used in mathematics and presumably for that reason not in philosophy either.

 



Summary

 

§315


Previously Russell had argued against using the concept of the infinitesimal to account for continuity. Now he will address philosophical arguments which want to defend the infinitesimal. For this he will examine Cohen’s Princip der Infinitesimalmethode und seine Geschichte.


§316


The differential in calculus no longer needs the concept of the infinitesimal.

In the above exposition, the differential appeared as a philosophically unimportant application of the doctrine of limits. Indeed, but for its traditional importance, it would scarcely have deserved even mention. And we saw that its definition nowhere involves the infinitesimal. The dx and dy of a differential are nothing in themselves, and dy/dx is not a fraction. Hence, in | modern works on the Calculus, the notation f' (x) has replaced dy/dx, since the latter form suggests erroneous notions
[344]


But Cohen treats “the dx and the dy treated as separate entities, as real infinitesimals, as the intensively real elements of which the continuum is composed (pp. 14, 28, 144, 147).” [344] Because Cohen does not defend this concept of the infinitesimal, it seems to not be in question. “This view is certainly assumed as self-evident by most philosophers who discuss the Calculus. Let us see for ourselves what kind of grounds can be urged in its favour.” [344]


§317


Although Cohen may have understood the infinitesimals in terms of space and time, Russell will concern himself only with “such arguments as can be derived from purely numerical instances.” [344]


§318


Cohen rejects “the view that the infinitesimal calculus can be independently derived by mathematics from the method of limits.” It seems his reasoning is that (a) the method of limits presupposes a conception of equality [which is problematic for some reason, perhaps because it presupposes the idea of magnitude, but that is the second problem], and (b) the method of limits presupposes the concept of magnitude, but the concept of magnitude presupposes the concept of limit. [It may not be necessary now to fully understand how Cohen arrive at these conclusions. Russell will just show why they do not hold in mathematics.]

This method, he says (p. 1), “consists in the notion that the elementary conception of equality must be completed by the exact notion of the limit. Thus in the first place the conception of equality is presupposed. . . . Again, in the second place, the method of | limits presupposes the conception of magnitude. . . . But in the presupposed conception of magnitude the limiting magnitude is at the same time presupposed. The equality which is defined in the elementary doctrine of magnitude pays no attention to these limiting magnitudes. For it, magnitudes count as equal if and although their difference consists in a limiting magnitude. Hence the elementary conception of equality must be—this is the notion of the method of limits—not so much completed as corrected by the exact conception of the limit. Equality is to be regarded as an earlier stage of the limiting relation.”
[Russell 344-345, quoting Cohen p.1]


§319


But, Russell notes, “equality has no relevance to limits”. [Russell’s explanation for this can be found pp.345-346. He notes that the simplest concept of limit is ω, the limit of the ordinal numbers, but it does not involve the concept of equality (perhaps because it does not equal the largest of the ordinals; it is a figure above it). He gives the example of a diminishing series tending toward a value, which might seem like the sum equals the limit value, but in fact we do not need to think of it that way. See the noted pages for details.]


And Russell has already explained how magnitude is not involved in the concept of limits [limits are understood in terms of numerical series and not as series of diminishing magnitudes. See p.346 for details].


§320


[Russell then addresses the argument that magnitude presupposes the concept of limits, but limits presuppose the concept of magnitude. Yet, limits do not require the concept of magnitude. See p.346 for details.]


§321


The biggest mistake Cohen makes is that he thinks limits introduce a new meaning of equality. For magnitudes, there is only one meaning, and it does not involve the notion of approximation [no matter how close]. Cohen thinks that numbers do not have equality but only identity, which is (misleadingly) expressed using the equals sign. [Perhaps magnitudes would be two things that have identical values, and thus can be equal like two weights on a scale. But if two numbers are equal, that means they are the same number. There is not two cases of 2. There is only 2, but 2 can be expressed many ways, like 8/4. What this has to do with calculus is not so clear. But Russell goes on to say it seems that for Cohen, the infinitesimal magnitude added to a value y is equal to y because it is so close an approximation. Russell then reminds us that there is no such thing as dx and dy in calculus. Please read the text to get a more detailed understanding of Russell’s argument, pp.346-347.]

I imagine that what Cohen means may be expressed as follows. In forming a differential coefficient, we consider two numbers x and x + dx, and two others y and y + dy. In elementary Arithmetic, x and x + dx would count as equal, but not in the Calculus. There are, in fact, two ways of defining equality. Two terms may be said to be equal when their ratio is unity, or when their difference is zero. But when we allow real infinitesimals dx, x and x + dx will have the ratio unity, but will not have zero for their difference, since dx is different from absolute zero. This view, which I suggest as equivalent to Cohen’s, depends upon a misunderstanding of limits and the Calculus. There are in the Calculus no such magnitudes as dx and dy. There are finite differences Δx and Δy, but no view, however elementary, will make x equal to x + Δx. There are ratios of finite differences, Δy/Δx, and in cases where the derivative of y exists, there is one real number to which Δy/Δx can be made to approach as near as we like by diminishing Δx and Δy. This single real number we choose to denote by dy/dx; but it is not a fraction, and dx and dy are nothing but typographical parts of one symbol. There is no correction whatever of the notion of equality by the doctrine of limits; the only new element introduced is the consideration of infinite classes of terms chosen out of a series.
[347]


§322


[In the following Russell notes another of Cohen’s claims, but that claim is not explained. Perhaps it is saying that because dx and dy are infinitesimal, they do not extend in space, and thus they are inextensive. The extensive can be contrasted with the intensive. In Kant, the extensive magnitude is divisible into metrical parts, but the intensive is not. In ch.21, Russell discusses magnitudes and their measure, and he says that extensive magnitudes are numerically measurable but intensive magnitudes are not; they only admit of more or less. Also in that chapter Russell notes how for Kant, intensive magnitudes are realities that can be more or less in magnitude, like more or less bright. Let’s first look at Russell’s passage in this chapter.]

As regards the nature of the infinitesimal, we are told (p. 15) that the differential, or the inextensive, is to be identified with the intensive, and the differential is regarded as the embodiment of Kant’s category of reality.
[347]

[The differential ratio of dx to dy is inextensive for Cohen, because dx and dy are infinitesimal and thus do not extend in space. Being inextensive does not necessarily mean intensive yet. dx and dy are inextensive, as is their ratio. However, their ratio forms a quantity that is intensive, meaning that (using Russell’s definition) they are measurable in terms of being more or less but not numerically by counting parts. Kant’s concept of reality regards it as something that admits of degrees, and thus somehow the differential is the embodiment of Kant’s category of reality. I have not read Cohen yet, so I do not know his reasoning. But to give our own, we might say that Kant (especially according to a Deleuzean interpretation) regards our experiences as being experiences of reality, but these experiences are the experiences of the variations from moment to moment. We only experience degrees of difference and thus only intensities. It is only by means of recollection that we experience by means of synthesis stretches of time and the extensity of spatial objects. Thus reality in its most basic form are variations, which are understood as correlated infinitesimal differences, tiny changes over tiny moments.] [So Cohen understands dx and dy as being terms in a series, or as differences between consecutive terms. Russell will explain why they are neither, and instead they only represent stretches (series of intermediate terms) containing an infinity of terms, or “distances corresponding to such stretches”. So for Russell, dx and dy are not infinitesimals but rather merely tiny finite values that are infinitely divisible like any other finite value. Then Russell distinguishes series of numbers from series of measurable stretches or distances. Space and time, for example, are this second kind that are made of stretches or distances. But, dx and dy are not consecutive terms, because our series is compact (between any two there is another, and as we saw, there cannot be consecutive terms in a compact series, because there is no ‘next’ term; for there always is a ‘more next’ term, then another, and another, without end.) After considering some complications, Russell finds a possible way to tentatively conceive of dx and dy as being the distances of consecutive points. Russell will show why this is still absurd. He thinks it leads to the conclusion that all differential relations dx/dy would have to have the same value, either positive or negative 1. He could perhaps be saying the following. Suppose like Cohen we think that although a distance is infinitely divisible, it ultimately divides into smallest parts. These parts do not have a finite value. However, there are infinitely many such parts in a finite distance. dx and dy are thought of as such infinitesimal distances. Thus any finite distance along the x axis (or x series) is made up of an infinity of dx’s, which measure the distances between the consecutive points, and likewise for y. But the points between which dx and dy stand correlate in a one-one fashion, since these points are real values of the number line. This would seem to imply that dx and dy are always constant values, and thus dx/dy is always positive or negative one. This is because no other points intervene between them. Thus regardless of the supposed relative values of any dx/dy pairing, each themselves cannot have a value any different than the equally spaced points on which they are found, and thus must always be equal. Most likely Russell is making a different argument, which I cannot discern, so it is important to read the ‘mathematical arguments’ on page 348 for a more certain interpretation. Russell then puts these mathematical arguments aside, and says that since dx/dy have a numerical ratio, they must be numerically measurable, even though they are intensive magnitudes. (And recall that for Russell intensive magnitudes are not numerically measurable.) But Russell does not see how we might numerically measure them. So first we suppose that x and y are numbers. Then we suppose that x and x + dx are consecutive. Now, how are we to regard y + dy? We have four options. They either (a) are consecutive, (b) are identical, (c) have a finite number of terms between them, or (d) have an infinite number of terms between them. Cases c and d I think would be cases where dy is a stretch, that is, a series of terms between two end terms. Russell says that if it is a stretch, then dy/dx will always be either zero, integral, or infinite. I do not know why. Let’s suppose that these results follow from b, c, and d, as a possible way to start our explanation. If y and y + dy are identical, that means dy is 0, and making dy / dx be 0 over some other figure and thus 0. If there is a finite number of terms between y and y + dy, then that means dy/dx would have some integer value, and maybe that is what Russell means by ‘integral’. However, I do not know what he means here; if it has something to do with integral calculus I cannot discern it; and that dy/dx would have an integer value does not to me seem problematic, so I cannot interpret that. If there are an infinity of terms between y and y + dy, that means we have infinity over one (or some finite value) and thus dy/dx is infinity. In all three cases this is absurd (although the absurdity of the second case I cannot understand. It is also possible that the results “zero, or integral, or infinite” are not results of cases b, c, and d respectively.  But if that were so, I understand the situation even less.) Russell then goes on to say that even if y is not constant, dy/dx must be positive or negative 1. It seems he proves this by considering the two ways we can conceive of dy and dx, that is, as being either stretches or distances. If they were stretches, that means no matter the size of y, it will have the same size of infinity of dy-components as x has of dx-components, and they will correlate always in a one-one fashion. Since for stretches the number of terms determines the magnitude, and because the number of terms is equal and correspondent in a one-one fashion in both x and y, then dy/dx will always be 1/1. He then says that if y is not constant (sticking still with dy and dx being stretches), dy/dx will still have to be positive or negative one. He has us consider the function y = x2. And here x and y are positive real numbers. But again, if they are stretches, the same one-one correspondence will apply and thus the same problem results. Now he has us consider if we measure by distances and not stretches. He seems to be using the same reasoning. He says dy and dx are always the distance from one number to the next along the distances y and x. He then has us consider a function for which dy/dx = 2 for x = 1 and y = 1. On the one hand, the function tells us dy/dx should be two. But since there is this one-one correspondence and since x and y are equal, it would also have to be 1/1, which is absurd. This means that no matter how we conceive of consecutive values, it will lead to absurdities when applied in calculus. I would like to point out possible reasons we might not have to come to Russell’s conclusion. Russell’s argument begins by conceptualizing the infinitesimals as being the consecutive intervals between the real number values taken to be infinitely close. So under this conception, we would think that there are an infinity of infinitely small increments making up the value x and the value y, and each such increment corresponds to a real number value, which is like the total of all the infinitely small increments leading up to it. Let’s think about a geometrical interpretation, for example the curve described by y = x2. When x is 2, y is 4, and the rise/run of the tangent at that place along the curve is 4/1. Russell’s problem is that this implies that as we move to the next real number value, x + dx, we would skip over 3 points of y on the y axis, since we are jumping by 4. (In fact, since the variations are exponential, when we get to the next one, we might have jumped over even more than 4.) But that does not mean the next four real number values do not have a corresponding y value. Consider: the function says for example we are going from (2,4) to (3,9) and so on [for (x,y) coordination, with the difference between values assumed to be infinitely small]. Thus we see that we are always skipping y values when we are keeping the x values constant. However, what happens when we go up the scale of y values? What if we went from (2,4) to (x,5)? What is the value of x? Would it not also have a value, which would be between the afore-determined x-values? And as we go up the scale of y, the x values will grow relatively slower. There seems then to be an impossible contradiction if we assume consecutive infinitesimal values making up the spaces between points on the x and y axes. But perhaps there is a flaw in how Russell sets up the problem. He equates real numbers along x and y with infinitesimal increments along x and y (or along x/y). When two successive numbers are real, then there is always another between them. So there are not consecutive real numbers whose values can be assigned. The infinitesimal interval would be smaller than the interval between any givable pair of reals. So maybe we cannot, like Russell does, equate the infinitesimal increments with the real’s increments. So if we go up an infinitesimal increment along the x axis, that does not mean that it must correspond to an increment along the y which is equal in magnitude. How we are to better conceptualize such successions of infinitesimals I am not sure, but it does seem to be fairly certain that they are not equal to the succession of real numbers and thus Russell’s criticism might not hold. I have placed the entirety of this paragraph below, because it deserves a better interpretation than I can give it.]

As regards the nature of the infinitesimal, we are told (p. 15) that the differential, or the inextensive, is to be identified with the intensive, and the differential is regarded as the embodiment of Kant’s category of reality. This view (in so far as it is independent of Kant) is quoted with approval from Leibniz; but to me, I must confess, it seems destitute of all justification. It is to be observed that dx and dy, if we allow that they are entities at all, are not to be identified with single terms of our series, nor yet with differences between consecutive terms, but must be always stretches containing an infinite number of terms, or distances corresponding to such stretches. Here a distinction must be made between series of numbers and series in which we have only measurable distances or stretches. The latter is the case of space and time. Here dx and dy are not points or instants, which alone would be truly inextensive; they are primarily numbers, and hence must correspond to infinitesimal stretches or distances—for it would be preposterous to assign a numerical ratio to two points, or—as in the case of | velocity—to a point and an instant. But dx and dy cannot represent the distances of consecutive points, nor yet the stretch formed by two consecutive points. Against this we have, in the first place, the general ground that our series must be regarded as compact, which precludes the idea of consecutive terms. To evade this, if we are dealing with a series in which there are only stretches, not distances, would be impossible: for to say that there are always an infinite number of intermediate points except when the stretch consists of a finite number of terms would be a mere tautology. But when there is distance, it might be said that the distance of two terms may be finite or infinitesimal, and that, as regards infinitesimal distances, the stretch is not compact, but consists of a finite number of terms. This being allowed for the moment, our dx and dy may be made to be the distances of consecutive points, or else the stretches composed of consecutive points. But now the distance of consecutive points, supposing for example that both are on one straight line, would seem to be a constant, which would give dy/dx = ±1. We cannot suppose, in cases where x and y are both continuous, and the function y is one-valued, as the Calculus requires, that x and x + dx are consecutive, but not y and y + dy; for every value of y will be correlated with one and only one value of x, and vice versâ; thus y cannot skip any supposed intermediate values between y and y + dy. Hence, given the values of x and y, even supposing the distances of consecutive terms to differ from place to place, the value of dy/dx will be determinate; and any other function y' which, for some value of x, is equal to y, will, for that value, have an equal derivative, which is an absurd conclusion. And leaving these mathematical arguments, it is evident, from the fact that dy and dx are to have a numerical ratio, that if they be intensive magnitudes, as is suggested, they must be numerically measurable ones: but how this measurement is effected, it is certainly not easy to see. This point may be made clearer by confining ourselves to the fundamental case in which both x and y are numbers. If we regard x and x + dx as consecutive, we must suppose either that y and y + dy are consecutive, or that they are identical, or that there are a finite number of terms between them, or that there are an infinite number. If we take stretches to measure dx and dy, it will follow that dy/dx must be always zero, or integral, or infinite, which is absurd. It will even follow that, if y is not constant, dy/dx must be ±1. Take for example y = x2, where x and y are positive real numbers. As x passes from one number to the next, y must do so likewise; for to every value of y corresponds one of x, and y grows as x grows. Hence if y skipped the number next to any one of its values, it could never come back to pick it up; but we know that every real number is among the values of y. Hence y and y + dy must be consecutive, and dy/dx = 1. If we measure by distances, not stretches, the distance dy must be fixed when y is given, and the distance dx when x is given. Now if x = 1, y = 1, dy/dx = 2; but, since x and y are the same number, dx and dy must be equal, since | each is the distance to the next number: therefore dy/dx = 1, which is absurd. Similarly, if we take for y a decreasing function, we shall find dy/dx = − 1. Hence the admission of consecutive numbers is fatal to the Calculus; and since the Calculus must be maintained, the Calculus is fatal to consecutive numbers.
[347-349]


§323

 

[First Russell notes that perhaps some of the problems that have arisen result from the conceptualization of going from one term to the next being a matter of physical motion (like a point moving along the x-axis) when it is really more of a numerical progress without real temporal and spatial properties. He then goes on to challenge Cohen’s idea that inextensive infinitesimals are equatable with intensive magnitudes. To explain his reasoning for this, let’s consider first an example of an intensive magnitude, let’s say the brightness of a light. We would never say that it is smaller than some extensive magnitude. It is just a different kind of magnitude. But the infinitesimal is smaller than any extensive magnitude, and for that reason should not be considered intensive.]


§324


[In this last paragraph, Russell sums up his argument so far against infinitesimals: they are (1) unnecessary (because they are not needed for calculus), (2) erroneous (because he showed in a prior chapter that they are obtained through an “illegitimate use of mathematical inductions) and (3) self-contradictory (because they lead to such contradictions as the one mentioned above regarding their consecutivity).]

We cannot, then, agree with the following summary of Cohen’s theory (p. 28): “That I may be able to posit an element in and for itself, is the desideratum, to which corresponds the instrument of thought reality. This instrument of thought must first be set up, in order to be able to enter into that combination with intuition, with the consciousness of being given, which is completed in the principle of intensive magnitude. This presupposition of intensive reality is latent in all principles, and must therefore be made independent. This presupposition is the meaning of reality and the secret of the concept of the differential.” What we can agree to, and what, I believe, confusedly underlies the above statement, is, that every continuum must consist of elements or terms; but these, as we have just seen, will not fulfil the function of the dx and dy which occur in old-fashioned accounts of the Calculus. Nor can we agree that “this finite” (i.e. that which is the object of physical science) “can be thought as a sum of those infinitesimal intensive realities, as a definite integral” (p. 144). The | definite integral is not a sum of elements of a continuum, although there are such elements: for example, the length of a curve, as obtained by integration, is not the sum of its points, but strictly and only the limit of the lengths of inscribed polygons. The only sense which can be given to the sum of the points of the curve is the logical class to which they all belong, i.e. the curve itself, not its length. All lengths are magnitudes of divisibility of stretches, and all stretches consist of an infinite number of points; and any two terminated stretches have a finite ratio to each other. There is no such thing as an infinitesimal stretch; if there were, it would not be an element of the continuum; the Calculus does not require it, and to suppose its existence leads to contradictions. And as for the notion that in every series there must be consecutive terms, that was shown, in the last chapter of Part III, to involve an illegitimate use of mathematical induction. Hence infinitesimals as explaining continuity must be regarded as unnecessary, erroneous and self-contradictory.
[350]



 

Source:

Bertrand Russell. Principles of Mathematics. London/New York: Routledge, 2010 [1st published 1903].



Russell, Ch.42 of Principles of Mathematics, ‘The Philosophy of the Continuum’, summary notes

 

by Corry Shores
[Search Blog Here. Index-tags are found on the bottom of the left column.]

[Central Entry Directory]

[Bertrand Russell, entry directory]

[Other entries in the Russell Principles of Mathematics, series]

[The following is summary and quotation. All boldface, underlining, and bracketed commentary are mine. Please see the original text, as I did not follow it closely. Proofreading is incomplete, so mistakes are still present.]

 


 

Bertrand Russell


Principles of Mathematics


Part 5: Infinity and Continuity


Ch.42: The Philosophy of the Continuum





Brief Summary:

Russell rejects the notion of the infinitesimal for defining continuous variation, and he uses instead Cantor’s notion of continuum. The infinitesimal account runs into problems with Zeno’s paradoxes, but Cantor’s version of continuum does not.

 



Summary

 

§325


[Recall from ch.36 Cantor’s later definition of continuum, which regards it as a dense series of terms whose values are all definable by means of limits contained with in it. He does not see it as a magnitude with parts.] Philosophy has understood continua in a manner different from Cantor. For contrast Russell looks at Hegel’s distinction of continuous and discrete magnitudes, in which Hegel seems to be saying that when we see a magnitude as a continuum, we think of it being one thing that continuously varies; but when we regard a magnitude as discrete, we think of it as a plurality of units. Russell notes that while this distinction between identity and diversity might be a fundamental problem in logic, it is not relevant for the mathematical understanding continuity, because “it has no reference whatever to order” [and Cantor’s continuity is ordinal.] Russell will focus in this chapter on this mathematical meaning of continuum.


§326


This sort of mathematical continuity is not like the other conception which thinks of a continuum as being a whole which is divided into constituent parts. Rather, it is an in infinite ordered series which together makes a continuum, rather than being a series which is obtained by dividing a continuum.

In confining ourselves to the arithmetical continuum, we conflict in another way with common preconceptions. Of the arithmetical continuum, M. Poincaré justly remarks:* “The continuum thus conceived is nothing but a collection of individuals arranged in a certain order, infinite in number, it is true, but external to each other. This is not the ordinary conception, in which there is supposed to be, between the elements of the continuum, a sort of intimate bond which makes a whole of them, in which the point is not prior to the line, but the line to the point. Of the famous formula, the continuum is unity in multiplicity, the multiplicity alone subsists, the unity has disappeared.”
[Russell p.352, citing Poincaré Revue de Métaphysique et de Morale, Vol. I, p. 26.]


This non-mathematical view of continua might apply for time and space, but not for an arithmetical continuum, which is “an object selected by definition, consisting of elements in virtue of the definition, and known to be embodied in at least one instance, namely the segments of the rational numbers.” (352) Russell thinks that the paradoxical theories of time and space result from regarding it as composed of elements. Cantor’s continuum, however, is free from such contradictions.  [Russell refers to the thesis proved in the preceding chapter. Here is that chapter’s conclusion:

There is no such thing as an infinitesimal stretch; if there were, it would not be an element of the continuum; the Calculus does not require it, and to suppose its existence leads to contradictions. And as for the notion that in every series there must be consecutive terms, that was shown, in the last chapter of Part III, to involve an illegitimate use of mathematical induction. Hence infinitesimals as explaining continuity must be regarded as unnecessary, erroneous and self-contradictory.
[350]

]

The thesis of the present chapter is, that Cantor’s continuum is free from contradictions. This thesis, as is evident, must be firmly established, before we can allow the possibility that spatio-temporal continuity may be of Cantor’s kind. In this argument, I shall assume, as proved the thesis of the preceding chapter, that the continuity to be discussed does not involve the admission of actual infinitesimals.
[352]


§327


Zeno’s paradoxes have a controversial history in philosophy. However, for Weierstrass, they “made the foundation of a mathematical renaissance”. [353] Like Zeno, he showed that the object in motion is truly at rest. But we need not follow to Zeno’s conclusion that this means the world never changes.

Weierstrass, by strictly banishing all infinitesimals, has at last shown that we live in an unchanging world, and that the arrow, at every moment of its flight, is truly at rest. The only point where Zeno probably erred was in inferring (if he did infer) that, because there is no change, therefore the world must be in the same state at one time as at another. This consequence by no means follows, and in this point the German professor is more constructive than the ingenious Greek. Weierstrass, being able to embody his opinions in mathematics, where familiarity with truth eliminates the vulgar prejudices of common sense, has been able to give to his propositions the respectable air of platitudes; and if the result is less delightful to the lover of reason than Zeno’s bold defiance, it is at any rate more calculated to appease the mass of academic mankind.
[353]


Russell will translate them into arithmetical language. [353]


§328


The first of Zeno’s arguments says that for something in motion to reach a destination, it needs first to reach a middle point, then the new middle point and so on. [But since there are an infinity of possible middle points, the object never gets to a first middle point.] Russell then translates this argument into arithmetical language. [He seems to be saying that between two numbers are always values which subdivide it. This might mean that we can never say that the sequence is fully constituted of its values. But we would need such a claim in order to define real numbers and arithmetical continuity.]

The first argument, that of dichotomy, asserts: “There is no motion, for what moves must reach the middle of its course before it reaches the end.” That is to say, whatever motion we assume to have taken place, this presupposes another motion, and this in turn another, and so on ad infinitum. Hence there is an endless regress in the mere idea of any assigned motion. This argument can be put into an arithmetical form, but it appears then far less plausible. Consider a variable x which is capable of all real (or rational) values between two assigned limits, say 0 and 1. The class of its values is an infinite whole, whose parts are logically prior to it: for it has parts, and it cannot subsist if any of the parts are lacking. Thus the numbers from 0 to 1 presuppose those from 0 to 1/2, these presuppose the numbers from 0 to 1/4, and so on. Hence, it would seem, there is an infinite regress in the notion of any infinite whole; but without such infinite wholes, real numbers cannot be defined, and arithmetical continuity, which applies to an infinite series, breaks down.
[353]


There are two ways of solving this. First we must distinguish two kinds of infinite regress. One of them is not problematic in this way. Secondly, we must distinguish two kinds of wholes: collective wholes and distributive wholes. In distributive wholes, “parts of equal complexity with the whole are not logically prior to it.” [354]


§329


So first we look at the two kinds of infinite regress. Both kinds involve propositions, but the first kind involves the meaning of a proposition, and the second kind involves the implications. [It seems in the first case, a proposition can only be understood on the basis of another interpretation, which requires another, and so on. This happens when the meaning of a proposition is circular, in which case one proposition requires us understanding the meaning of another, while this second one requires us understanding the meaning of the first. Or, the second requires the understanding of the meaning of a third and so on, thus we never are able to establish the meaning of the first. In the second case, there is just an infinite change of inferences that come from the first proposition. What is important here is that we do not need to complete the chain of inferences in order to know the meaning of the first term. If Zeno’s argument is regressive just because the first term implies others, then it is not a problem, since the first term is definable as are all the rest.]

An infinite regress may be of two kinds. In the objectionable kind, two or more propositions join to constitute the meaning of some proposition; of these constituents, there is one at least whose meaning is similarly compounded; and so on ad infinitum. This form of regress commonly results from circular definitions. Such definitions may be expanded in a manner analogous to that in which continued fractions are developed from quadratic equations. But at every stage the term to be defined will reappear, and no definition will result. Take for example the following: “Two people are said to have the same idea when they have ideas which are similar; and ideas are similar when they contain an identical part.” If an idea may have a part which is not an idea, such a definition is not logically objectionable; but if part of an idea is an idea, then, in the second place where identity of ideas occurs, the definition must be substituted; and so on. Thus wherever the meaning of a proposition is in question, an infinite regress is objectionable, since we never reach a proposition which has a definite meaning. But many infinite regresses are not of this form. If A be a proposition whose meaning is perfectly definite, and A implies B, B implies C, and so on, we have an infinite regress of a quite unobjectionable kind. This depends upon the fact that implication is a synthetic relation, and that, although, if A be an aggregate of propositions, A implies any proposition which is part of A, it by no means follows that any proposition which A implies is part of A. Thus there is no logical necessity, as there was in the previous case, to complete the infinite regress before A acquires a meaning. If, then, it can be shown that the implication of the parts in the whole, when the whole is an infinite class of numbers, is of this latter kind, the regress suggested by Zeno’s argument of dichotomy will have lost its sting.
[354]


§330


To show that this paragraph of Zeno has the unproblematic form of regress, we first need to distinguish extentional and intensional wholes. [It seems the difference is that we understand the whole extensionally when we enumerate the terms, but we understand it intensionally when we understand all of its terms as referring to some given term. Perhaps one example of intensional would be defining the natural numbers in terms of the successor function applied to 1; I am just guessing, but the extensional whole would require each natural number to be listed.]

In order to show that this is the case, we must distinguish wholes which are defined extensionally, i.e. by enumerating their terms, from such as are defined intensionally, i.e. as the class of terms having some given relation to some given term, or, more simply, as a class of terms. (For a class of terms, when it forms a whole, is merely all terms having the class-relation to a class-concept.)
[354]

[It is unclear to me, but in the following it seems Russell is saying that if we think that the infinite set of values needs to be defined extensionally, then we can never define it, and thus the paradox would have a problematic regress. However, if we define it intensionally by first defining the terms real number, 0, 1, and between, then we can say the set is complete because all the numbers are implied in these simple concepts. Explicating them might be an endless process, but that does not mean the whole is that is intensionally implied is somehow incomplete or undefinable.]

Now an extensional whole—at least so far as human powers extend—is necessarily finite: we cannot enumerate more than a finite number of parts belonging to a whole, and if the number of parts be infinite, this must be known otherwise than by enumeration. But this is precisely what a class-concept effects: a whole whose parts are the terms of a class is completely defined when the class-concept is specified; and any definite | individual either belongs, or does not belong, to the class in question. An individual of the class is part of the whole extension of the class, and is logically prior to this extension taken collectively; but the extension itself is definable without any reference to any specified individual, and subsists as a genuine entity even when the class contains no terms. And to say, of such a class, that it is infinite, is to say that, though it has terms, the number of these terms is not any finite number—a proposition which, again, may be established without the impossible process of enumerating all finite numbers. And this is precisely the case of the real numbers between 0 and 1. They form a definite class, whose meaning is known as soon as we know what is meant by real number, 0, 1 and between. The particular members of the class, and the smaller classes contained in it, are not logically prior to the class. Thus the infinite regress consists merely in the fact that every segment of real or rational numbers has parts which are again segments; but these parts are not logically prior to it, and the infinite regress is perfectly harmless. Thus the solution of the difficulty lies in the theory of denoting and the intensional definition of a class. With this an answer is made to Zeno’s first argument as it appears in Arithmetic.
[354-355]


§331


The second of Zeno’s arguments is of Achilles and the tortoise.

“The slower”, it says, “will never be overtaken by the swifter, for the pursuer must first reach the point whence the fugitive is departed, so that the slower must always necessarily remain ahead.”
[355]

[Before proceeding with Russell’s explanation, just consider: Achilles starts later. For him to overtake the tortoise, he needs first to reach the point where the tortoise is. But while getting there, the tortoise has created a new point to be crossed. So long as the tortoise is motion, he keeps creating more points and Achilles will never cross past the tortoise.] [Russell then translates this into arithmetical language. Recall that a set has an infinite (or ‘transfinite’) cardinal value when one of it parts has as many members as the whole it is a part of (see ch.37 and “Mathematics and the Metaphysicians”). He seems to be saying that if Achilles overtakes the tortoise, then the set of points that the tortoise crossed is a part of the set that Achilles crossed. However, since the tortoise’s set has the same number as Achilles, that means Achilles can never overtake the tortoise. Russell then gives a mathematical example that seems to work like this: So consider that there is an infinity of values between 0 and 1. Now also consider a set beginning at one and another set beginning at two, but both end with three. Now return again to all the values between 0 and 1. Have the set beginning at 2 increase by those values until it gets to three (this would be like adding 1 to 2). But in the set beginning with one, we would need to double each increment in order to increase two units to three. So make the first set increase by doubles of the values from 0 to 1. Now, both sets increased by the same number of increments. But the first increases two units total and the second increases one unit total. We would think then that that the first set would have twice as many parts, but they do not. Translated into the Achilles example, Achilles cannot pass the tortoise, because to do so he would need to cross more points than the tortoise, but there is an equal number of points to both the tortoise’s shorter path Achilles’ longer one.]

The second of Zeno’s arguments is the most famous: it is the one which concerns Achilles and the tortoise. “The slower”, it says, “will never be overtaken by the swifter, for the pursuer must first reach the point whence the fugitive is departed, so that the slower must always necessarily remain ahead.” When this argument is translated into arithmetical language, it is seen to be concerned with the one-one correlation of two infinite classes. If Achilles were to overtake the tortoise, then the course of the tortoise would be part of that of Achilles; but, since each is at each moment at some point of his course, simultaneity establishes a one-one correlation between the positions of Achilles and those of the tortoise. Now it follows from this that the tortoise, in any given time, visits just as many places as Achilles does; hence— so it is hoped we shall conclude—it is impossible that the tortoise’s path should be part of that of Achilles. This point is purely ordinal, and may be illustrated by Arithmetic. Consider, for example, 1 + 2x and 2 + x, and let x lie between 0 and 1, both inclusive. For each value of 1 + 2x there is one and only one value of 2 + x, and vice versâ. Hence as x grows from 0 to 1, the number of values assumed by 1 + 2x will be the same as the number assumed by 2 + x. But 1 + 2x started from 1 and ends at 3, while 2 + x started from 2 and ends at 3. Thus there should be half as many values of 2 + x as of 1 + 2x. This very serious difficulty has been resolved, as we have seen, by Cantor; but as it belongs rather to the philosophy of the infinite than to that of the continuum, I leave its further discussion to the next chapter.
[355]


§332


The third paradox is the arrow in flight.

“If everything is in rest or in motion in a space equal to itself, and if what moves is always in | the instant, the arrow in its flight is immovable.”
[355-356]

[Before looking at Russell’s explanation, consider the following. The moving body would occupy some number of points in space. But in order to move, it needs to advance to the next point. But time is made up of instants. And each instant it can only occupy as many points as it is long. Thus it can never move anywhere, since it can never occupy more points than the space it occupies.] [Please read Russell’s arithmetical explanation on page 356. I will offer a possible interpretation. He seems to be saying that the different positions of the arrow, or the figures in the arithmetical series, can be understood as values substituted for a variable, like in the above formulation which has us substitute all the values from 0 to 1 into the two equations 1 + 2x and 2 + x. But all such substitutions are constants, meaning they have a determinate value. How does this relate to this paradox? I will guess. It might be that there are no substitutions of x which would give one value and its immediate successor. But that is what is needed for the object to be in motion, or for the series to advance continuously.]

We shall then find that it is a very important and very widely applicable platitude, namely: “Every possible value of a variable is a constant.” If x be a variable which can take all values from 0 to 1, all the values it can take are definite numbers, such as 1/2 or 1/3, which are all absolute constants. And here a few words may be inserted concerning variables. A variable is a fundamental concept of logic, as of daily life. Though it is always connected with some class, it is not the class, nor a particular member of the class, nor yet the whole class, but any member of the class. On the other hand, it is not the concept “any member of the class”, but it is that (or those) which this concept denotes. On the logical difficulties of this conception, I need not now enlarge; enough has been said on this subject in Part I. The usual x in Algebra, for example, does not stand for a particular number, nor for all numbers, nor yet for the class number. This may be easily seen by considering some identity, say
(x + 1)2 = x2 + 2x + 1.
This certainly does not mean what it would become if, say, 391 were substituted for x, though it implies that the result of such a substitution would be a true proposition. Nor does it mean what results from substituting for x the class-concept number, for we cannot add 1 to this concept. For the same reason, x does not denote the concept any number: to this, too, 1 cannot be added. It denotes the disjunction formed by the various numbers; or at least this view may be taken as roughly correct.* The values of x are then the terms of the disjunction; and each of these is a constant. This simple logical fact seems to constitute the essence of Zeno’s contention that the arrow is always at rest.
[356]


 


 

 


§333


But if all the values we can substitute in for x are constants, that means their difference is always finite and thus not infinitesimal. Nonetheless, since such a formula could describe every possible position the object moves through, it is sufficient to account for its motion, Russell thinks. But Zeno was not aware of this way of understanding change. At his time a state of change was needed to explain change. [Note, the following below should be set as block quote, but for some reason I am unable to set it that way here.]


But Zeno’s argument contains an element which is specially applicable to continua. In the case of motion, it denies that there is such a thing as a state of motion. In the general case of a continuous variable, it may be taken as denying actual infinitesimals. For infinitesimals are an attempt to extend to the values of a variable the variability which belongs to it alone. When once it is firmly realized that all the values of a variable are constants, it becomes easy | to see, by taking any two such values, that their difference is always finite, and hence that there are no infinitesimal differences. If x be a variable which may take all real values from 0 to 1, then, taking any two of these values, we see that their difference is finite, although x is a continuous variable. It is true the difference might have been less than the one we chose; but if it had been, it would still have been finite. The lower limit to possible differences is zero, but all possible differences are finite; and in this there is no shadow of contradiction. This static theory of the variable is due to the mathematicians, and its absence in Zeno’s day led him to suppose that continuous change was impossible without a state of change, which involves infinitesimals and the contradiction of a body’s being where it is not.
[356-357]



§334


The fourth of Zeno’s arguments regards measure. Russell says that this is like what he dealt with in the prior chapter. There he argued that dx and dy cannot be consecutive terms.  [It seems the problem now is not with consecutivity but with a continuum being made of discrete indivisibles, but see 357, since I understood Russell’s continuum to be made of discrete terms. Perhaps he means their intervals are always divisible and thus the continuum is not made of discrete indivisibles.] In his explanation, he seems to be giving an instance where we have one singular instant of motion, but it involves crossing two spatial locations. He gives this diagram:

image

In one instant, the second row moves one place to the left and the third row moves one place to the right. But c’ now aligns with a’’, which is two places apart from it. So in one supposedly indivisible instant, one point crosses two points, which suggests the instant has two smaller parts, when c’ aligned with b’’ and when it aligned with a’’. [357] He says this is virtually the argument he made in the prior chapter, which says that if a continuous series is made of consecutive terms, then when differentially related to the terms in another  continuous series, the ratio of dy/dx will always be positive or negative one. [This case is similar, because it likewise has for one infinitesimal increment in one series (one moment of time, one dx) it has moved two increments in another series (relative position to parallel points in another moving body, 2 dy’s).] M. Evellin is a proponent of indivisible stretches, and he says that a’’ and b’’ do not cross: “one instant a’ is over a’’, in the next, c’ is over a’’. [We might say then that c’ skips over b’’.] [Russell says that for physical motion, this might be true, since it is not really self-contradictory. However, it does not work in arithmetic “since no empirical question of existence is involved.” Please see p.358, as I cannot explain what he means. Then he seems to be saying that since we solved Zeno’s problem arithmetically, we should use this method when discussing the problem of continuity:] [the following should be block quoted]

To the argument in Zeno’s form, M. Evellin, who is an advocate of indivisible stretches, replies that a'' and b' , do not cross each other at all.* For if instants are indivisible—and this is the hypothesis— all we can say is, that at one instant a' is over a'' , in the next, c' , is over a'' . Nothing has happened between the instants, and to suppose that a'' and b' have crossed is to beg the question by a covert appeal to the continuity of motion. This reply is valid, I think, in the case of motion; both time and space may, without positive contradiction, be held to be discrete, by adhering strictly to distances in addition to stretches. Geometry, Kinematics and Dynamics become false; but there is no very good reason to think them true. In the case of Arithmetic, the matter is otherwise, since no empirical question of existence is involved. And in this case, as we see from the above argument concerning derivatives, Zeno’s argument is absolutely sound. Numbers are entities whose nature can be established beyond question; and among numbers, the various forms of continuity which occur cannot be denied without positive contradiction. For this reason the problem of continuity is better discussed in connection with numbers than in connection with space, time or motion.
[358]


§335


Thus the arithmetical conception of continuum that Russell advocates does not suffer from the problems of Zeno’s paradox. Russell will not make some remarks.


The first is that someone might say that what Cantor calls a continuum is not a continuum in the sense involved in the paradoxes [and thus does not relate to them enough to fall victim to their problems]. Russell then goes on to praise the merits of Cantor’s notion of continuity. [The following should be block quoted.]

The salient points in the definition of the continuum are (1) the connection with the doctrine of | limits, (2) the denial of infinitesimal segments. These two points being borne in mind, the whole philosophy of the subject becomes illuminated.
[358-359]


§336


In this final section Russell notes that the notion of infinitesimal segments brought about the antinomy that the continuum both does and does not consist of segments [there are infinitesimal parts but they do not have an extensive value are thus not parts of the same kind as the extensive whole]. Russell’s denial of infinitesimal segments does not have the problem of this antinomy, but this is because we can say both that a line is made of segments but also that it is not, however, we do not in both cases mean this with the same sense. [For details as to why this is, see p.359.]






Source:

Bertrand Russell. Principles of Mathematics. London/New York: Routledge, 2010 [1st published 1903].

Russell, Ch.54 of Principles of Mathematics, ‘Motion’, [containing Russell’s at-at account of motion], summary notes

 

by Corry Shores
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[The following is summary and quotation. All boldface, underlining, and bracketed commentary are mine. Please see the original text, as I did not follow it closely. Proofreading is incomplete, so mistakes are still present.]

 
[Russell also gives the at-at account of motion in “Mathematics and the Metaphysicians”]


 

Bertrand Russell


Principles of Mathematics


Part 7: Matter and Motion


Ch.54: Motion





Brief Summary

There is no such thing as a state of motion, since there is no infinitesimal magnitude which would allow an object to be between two positions (or at two positions) at the same moment of time. An object is in motion if it is in different places at different times, and it remains in the same place at different times.

 



Summary

 

§442


Much has been discussed on motion, and with increasing complexity especially recently [circa 1900]. But logically speaking we first need to clarify simpler matters before advancing to these more complicated issues. It seems Russell will begin with Newton, as “Newton’s scholium to the definitions contains arguments which are unrefuted, and so far as I know, irrefutable: they have been before the world two hundred years, and it is time they were refuted or accepted.” [476]


More basic than the notion of motion are the concepts of location, time, and change. [[In Russell’s definitions of these terms, note that he is not using a dialetheic logic which would permit a self-contradictory statement to be made for an object at a particular time]]

The concept of motion is logically subsequent to that of occupying a place at a time, and also to that of change. Motion is the occupation, by one entity, of a continuous series of places at a continuous series of times. Change is the difference, in respect of truth or falsehood, between a proposition concerning an entity and a time T and a proposition concerning the same entity and another time T', provided that the two propositions differ only by the fact that T occurs in the one where T' occurs in the other.
[476]

[[In a dialetheic account, perhaps we would say that change is the true contradiction between two true but contradictory propositions describing the object’s multiple positions at a single instant of time in its motion.]] For there to be change [movement for example], a certain entity must be found at different locations (found relative to a second entity) at different moments of time:

Change is continuous when the propositions of the above kind form a continuous series correlated with a continuous series of moments. Change thus always involves (1) a fixed entity, | (2) a three-cornered relation between this entity, another entity, and some but not all, of the moments of time. This is its bare minimum. Mere existence at some but not all moments constitutes change on this definition.
[476-477]

Russell then gives the example of pleasure. There are moments we have it and moments we do not. It changes when moving from non-existence to existence and back again. [The two entities are pleasure’s existence and its non-existence, and these are found at different moments of time. Or maybe more accurately Russell is saying that the two entities are pleasure and existence, but I do not know how to understand pleasure varying temporally in relation to existence.]

Consider pleasure, for example. This, we know, exists at some moments, and we may suppose that there are moments when it does not exist. Thus there is a relation between pleasure, existence, and some moments, which does not subsist between pleasure, existence, and other moments. According to the definition, therefore, pleasure changes in passing from existence to nonexistence or vice versâ.
[477]

Russell goes on to show how to formulate these matters in common usage, and he seems to be suggesting that you need a substance or subject whose properties vary with respect to time. But this creates a problem. There is one thing whose properties change. But would that mean we no longer have the same thing? [His solution seems to be to say that the whole thing cannot be the sum of its parts, but rather be something to which the part somehow relate. I suppose one way to think of this is that this persisting thing is what remains unchanged throughout all the changes. It seems from the beginning of the following paragraph that what remains the same are other parts which did not change, but please interpret for yourself these passages:]

we should say that colour changes, meaning that there are different colours at different times in some connection; though not colour, but only particular shades of colour, can exist. And generally, where both the class-concept and the particulars are simple, usage would allow us to say, if a series of particulars exists at a continuous series of times, that the class-concept changes. Indeed it seems better to regard this as the only kind of change, and to regard as unchanging a term which itself exists throughout a given period of time. But if we are to do this, we must say that wholes consisting of existent parts do not exist, or else that a whole cannot preserve its identity if any of its parts be changed. The latter is the correct alternative, but some subtlety is required to maintain it. Thus people say they change their minds; they say that the mind changes when pleasure ceases to exist in it. If this expression is to be correct, the mind must not be the sum of its constituents. For if it were the sum of all its constituents throughout time, it would be evidently unchanging; if it were the sum of its constituents at one time, it would lose its identity as soon as a former constituent ceased to exist or a new one began to exist. Thus if the mind is anything, and if it can change, it must be something persistent and constant, to which all constituents of a psychical state have one and the same relation. Personal identity could be constituted by the persistence of this term, to which all a person’s states (and nothing else) would have a fixed relation. The change of mind would then consist merely in the fact that these states are not the same at all times.

[following into the next paragraph]

Thus we may say that a term changes, when it has a fixed relation to a collection of other terms, each of which exists at some part of time, while all do not exist at exactly the same series of moments.
[477]


In this next paragraph, Russell goes on to wonder if the universe itself changes [for its parts are in constant change, and presumably every part will change at some point in its existence. Please interpret these passages for yourself, but perhaps he is saying that we cannot think of the whole as the sum of the parts (for this would mean the universe does not persist); instead, we must think of the ‘whole’ as a class concept to which particulars (contained under it) relate.]

Can we say, with this | definition, that the universe changes? The universe is a somewhat ambiguous term: it may mean all the things that exist at a single moment, or all the things that ever have existed or will exist, or the common quality of whatever exists. In the two former senses it cannot change; in the last, if it be other than existence, it can change. Existence itself would not be held to change, though different terms exist at different times; for existence is involved in the notion of change as commonly employed, which applies only in virtue of the difference between the things that exist at different times. On the whole, then, we shall keep nearest to usage if we say that the fixed relation, mentioned at the beginning of this paragraph, must be that of a simple class-concept to simple particulars contained under it.
[477-478]



§443


Russell notes how change has traditionally been conceived as a substance whose accidents alter. Russell rejects this. He thinks that change happens because terms change in relation to moments of time. [Russell goes on to describe the existence of terms in a way that is very similar to Spinoza’s notion of modal essence and existence. For Spinoza, a mode’s essence is eternal, but at a particular moment of duration, it also has existence. When it dies, it loses existence but maintains its essence. (See for example Deleuze’s discussion of Spinoza’s correspondence with Blyenbergh.) Compare this idea to what Russell has to say about the existence and being of entities.]

The notion of change has been much obscured by the doctrine of substance, by the distinction between a thing’s nature and its external relations, and by the pre-eminence of subject-predicate propositions. It has been supposed that a thing could, in some way, be different and yet the same: that though predicates define a thing, yet it may have different predicates at different times. Hence the distinction of the essential and the accidental, and a number of other useless distinctions, which were (I hope) employed precisely and consciously by the scholastics, but are used vaguely and unconsciously by the moderns. Change, in this metaphysical sense, I do not at all admit. The so-called predicates of a term are mostly derived from relations to other terms; change is due, ultimately, to the fact that many terms have relations to some parts of time which they do not have to others. But every term is eternal, timeless and immutable; the relations it may have to parts of time are equally immutable. It is merely the fact that different terms are related to different times that makes the difference between what exists at one time and what exists at another. And though a term may cease to exist, it cannot cease to be; it is still an entity, which can be counted as one, and concerning which some propositions are true and others false.
[478]



§444


Russell then addresses fictional events. He says that it is possible for a fictional event to take place at a time without actually existing at that time. [see pp.478-479]

But these matters do not concern our mathematical discussions here. [479]


§445


[Russell discusses some complexities regarding how to conceptualize the notion of occupying a place at a time, and he concludes:]

mathematically, the whole requisite conclusion is that, in relation to a given term which occupies a place, there is a correlation between a place and a time.
[479]


§446


[[[Note that in the previous chapter, Russell asserts that one piece of matter cannot occupy two difference places at the same moment. He does not explain why. In my assessment, it is because he uses a classical logic which does not allow for true contradiction, like with dialetheic logic. From the prior chapter:

The most fundamental characteristic of matter lies in the nature of its connection with space and time. Two pieces of matter cannot occupy the same place at the same moment, and the same piece cannot occupy two places at the same moment, though it may occupy two moments at the same place. That is, whatever, at a given moment, has extension, is not an indivisible piece of matter: division of space always implies division of any matter occupying the space, but division of time has no corresponding implication. (These properties are commonly attributed to matter: I do not wish to assert that they do actually belong to it.) By these properties, matter is distinguished from whatever else is in space.
[473]

]]] Russell now will consider the nature of motion. A moving object cannot be in two places at the same time [see the above discussion on his unsupported assertion of this. A dialetheic logic applied to motion, as in Graham Priest’s analysis (see chapters 11 and 12 of his In Contradiction) , would say that an object is found in two places at the same time, that ‘A is there now’ and ‘A is here now’, using Russell’s formulation.]

A simple unit of matter, we agreed, can only occupy one place at one time. Thus if A be a material point, “A is here now” excludes “A is there now”, but not “A is here then”. Thus any given moment has a unique relation, not direct, but viâ A, to a single place, whose occupation by A is at the given moment; but there need not be a unique relation of a given place to a given time, since the occupation of the place may fill several times.
[179]

[Note, in accordance with Leibniz’ Law of Continuity, we can say there is a moment when a moving object is in a state of transition (status transitus) moving from movement to rest. So in the same moment an object can be both in motion and at rest.] In defining motion and rest, Russell seems to be saying that if the object in two moments is in two different places, then it is in motion. If it is in the same place, it is at rest. But it cannot be in two places at the same time.

A moment such that an interval containing the given moment | otherwise than as an end-point can be assigned, at any moment within which interval A is in the same place, is a moment when A is at rest. A moment when this cannot be done is a moment when A is in motion, provided A occupies some place at neighbouring moments on either side. A moment when there are such intervals, but all have the said moment as an end-term, is one of transition from rest to motion or vice versâ. Motion consists in the fact that, by the occupation of a place at a time, a correlation is established between places and times; when different times, throughout any period however short, are correlated with different places, there is motion; when different times, throughout some period however short, are all correlated with the same place, there is rest.
[479-480]


Russell then gives logical/mathematical formulation for defining movement and rest.

We may now proceed to state our doctrine of motion in abstract logical terms, remembering that material particles are replaced by many-one relations of all times to some places, or of all terms of a continuous one-dimensional series t to some terms of a continuous three-dimensional series s. Motion consists broadly in the correlation of different terms of t with different terms of s. A relation R which has a single term of s for its converse domain corresponds to a material particle which is at rest throughout all time. A relation R which correlates all the terms of t in a certain interval with a single term of s corresponds to a material particle which is at rest throughout the interval, with the possible exclusion of its end-terms (if any), which may be terms of transition between rest and motion. A time of momentary rest is given by any term for which the differential coefficient of the motion is zero. The motion is continuous if the correlating relation R defines a continuous function. It is to be taken as part of the definition of motion that it is continuous, and that further it has first and second differential coefficients. This is an entirely new assumption, having no kind of necessity, but serving merely the purpose of giving a subject akin to rational Dynamics.
[480]


§447


Russell now clearly states that he rejects the idea of there being a state of motion. [Nothing is in actuality in a state or process of moving from one place to another; but things do find themselves at different places at different times. There are no in-between states when the object is in-between points in space in-between moments of time (or at two places in one moment), which is a formulation that is allowed with the concept of the infinitesimal and/or also with dialetheic logic.] Russell says this creates problems when trying to state the laws of motion, which he discusses later, but he says it is necessary for us to accept these problems given Weierstrass’ reform to calculus in doing away with the concept of the infinitesimal.

in consequence of the denial of the infinitesimal, and in consequence of the allied purely technical view of the derivative of a function, we must entirely reject the notion of a state of motion. Motion consists merely in the occupation of different places at different times, subject to continuity as explained in Part V. There is no transition from place to place, no consecutive moment or consecutive position, no such thing as velocity except in the sense of a real number which is the limit of a certain set of quotients. The rejection of velocity and acceleration as physical facts (i.e. as properties belonging at each instant to a moving point, and not merely real numbers expressing limits of certain ratios) involves, as we shall see, some difficulties in the statement of the laws of motion; but the reform introduced by Weierstrass in the infinitesimal calculus has rendered this rejection imperative.
[480]

 




Source:


Bertrand Russell. Principles of Mathematics. London/New York: Routledge, 2010 [1st published 1903].



 

24 May 2014

Priest (11.2) In Contradiction, ‘The Instant of Change’, summary

 

by Corry Shores
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Graham Priest


In Contradiction:
A Study of the Transconsistent


Part III. Applications

Ch.11. The Metaphysics of Change I:
The Instant of Change


11.2 The Instant of Change



Brief Summary:

Things in the physical world change states through time. There are instants of such change when we have no more reason to say that it is in the prior or the following state. In such cases, it is true that the thing is both in a state and not in that state. This is a true contradiction, a dialetheia, that is a real and common situation in the physical world.



Summary


Priest will illustrate a problem with the instant of change.

As I write, my pen is touching the paper. As I come to the end of a word I lift it off. At one time it is on; at another it is off (that is, not on). Since the motion is continuous, there must be an instant at which the pen leaves the paper. At that instant, is it on the paper or off? [160]

[We have things and their interactions here operating in a describable way, so we will call it system s. There is a moment in time in question, the instant when the pen leaves the paper, which we will call t0. We also have different states the pen can be in, either on or off the paper, called s0 and s1. We will describe the state of being on the page in the statement called α (which reads “The pen is on the paper”). Otherwise, the pen would be off the paper, and then it will be in the next succeeding state, s1. After the pen leaves the paper, it is not the case that “the pen is on the paper”, which is a proposition we would then write as ¬α. Now we want to know, at the moment it leaves the paper, what state is it in? There are four possibilities. Either 1) it is only on the paper, 2) it is only off the paper, 3) it is neither on the paper nor off, or 4) or it is both on the paper and off the paper in the same instant.]

We may formulate the problem more generally. Before a time t0, a system s is in a state s0, described by α. After t0 it is in a state s1, described by ¬α. What state is it in at t0? A priori, there are four possible answers:
(A) s is in s0 and s0 only.
(B) s is in s1 and s1 only.
(Γ) s is in neither s0 nor s1.
(Δ) s is in both s0 and s1.
(160)

Also, there may not be an answer which holds for all cases, because “Different changes may be changes of different kinds.” (160) If we just assume classical logic, then all changes will have to be of types either A or B. But since we are testing the viability of classical logic for explaining change, we cannot assume from the beginning it is the only means to find the answer. Priest will argue that there are changes of type Δ, that the pen is both on the page and off it the instant it makes that transition.


Previously in section 4.7 Priest ruled out the possibility of Γ type changes, so at least one of α or ¬α must hold. [His argument there has to do with liar paradoxes, for example, ‘This sentence is false’. If it is false, then it is true, but if it is true, then it is false. Therefore it is both true and false. That is not a problem for dialetheians. However, those who reject this need to explain what is wrong with the argumentation that leads to the paradox. One solution is to say that there are truth gaps, that is, that there are sentences which are neither true nor false. Priest in that section showed how their arguments failed, and thus in this current section, he does not find the third option, that it is neither in one state nor the other, convincing.] Now we must argue that not all changes are of types A or B (being either on or off the paper exclusively). So recall that at  t0 the pen leaves the paper. Is it on or off? It seems we do not have a better reason to say one over the other. This means we might prefer a symmetrical answer like Γ or Δ (the pen is neither on nor off the paper, or the pen is both on and off the paper). We might break this asymmetry by identifying being on with being zero distance from. [It seems Priest might be saying something like the following here. Consider its motion coming off the paper. Because of infinite divisibility, there is no first point when it is off the paper. Thus maybe we might say that it cannot be both, because the final on point is determinable, but the first off point is not. However, this does not apply for objects falling to the ground for example. This is perhaps because there is a final terminating point for the motion without there being a continuation after it. Priest writes: “There is, however, a way of breaking the asymmetry in this case. Since the motion is continuous, there is, presumably, a last instant at which the distance between the point of my pen and the paper is zero, but no first point at which it is non-zero. (Perhaps more precisely, there is a last point at which the electrical repulsion between my pen and the paper is equal to the weight of the pen, but no first point at which this is not the case.) If we identify being on with being zero distance from, this makes the change of type A. But the identification is highly suspect. An arrow is fired into the ground. At the instant of impact, before the point of the arrow penetrates the ground, is the arrow on the ground?” (160)]


Priest says that even if we can preserve asymmetry in the above example, it will not work in all cases. If we discover some solution, then we have a symmetrical relation between the state before of not having it and the state after of having it.

A particularly striking example of this is a phenomenological one. For days I have been puzzling over a problem. Suddenly the solution strikes me. Now, at the instant the solution strikes me, do I or do I not know the answer? The situation is, again, symmetrical. Before, I did not know the answer; after, I did. Moreover, one cannot suppose that in this case there is some tie-breaking ulterior fact. My epistemological state is all there is, and that is symmetrical. It makes little sense to suppose that I either did or did not determinately know the answer at the instant of change, though I am unaware which. (161)

In the next example, Priest has us consider us walking into a room. There will be a point when we have no more reason to say we are in than we are out. Thus there are cases where we have enough reason to give answers of type A or B.

I am in a room. As I walk through the door, am I in the room or out of (not in) it? To emphasize that this is not a problem of vagueness, suppose we identify my position with that of my centre of gravity, and the door with the vertical plane passing through its centre of gravity. As I leave the room there must be an instant at which the point lies on the plane. At that instant am I in or out? Clearly, there is no reason for saying one rather than the other. It might be suggested that in this and similar cases we are free to stipulate that I was, say, in. Unfortunately this is not a solution, but simply underlines the problem. I am free to stipulate in this way only because neither being in nor not being in has a better claim than the other: I am neither determinately out rather than in, nor determinately in rather than out. Thus, intrinsically, the change is symmetrical, and therefore not of type A or type B. (161)


So we are arguing for type Δ changes (both on and off). Someone might argue against them by opening the possibility for Γ type changes (neither on nor off). They might do this by rejecting the exhaustion principle which says that if α is not true then ¬α is true. [Perhaps then in the case of the pen, it can both be that the pen is not on the table but also not-not on the table, or in other words, that the pen is neither on nor off the table.] This is possible if the arguments from section 4.7 can be met. Nonetheless, the above example still gives us ample reason to suppose that there are type Δ changes.


There is another issue to address. Instead of instants of time, there might only be intervals. If so, then there are no instants of change, and thus no contradictions [because it is never at the same time that the pen is on or off the paper]


There are some problems however with arguing that time is not composed of instants. Science operates as though time can be represented by the real line. Calculus’ application in physics presupposes this. Thus to say that they are wrong about instants is to say that much of their work [or at least methodology, maybe conclusions] are wrong. [[However, there is also a way to conceive of the instant as an infinitesimal interval. This would make it both a combination of states without any passage of duration between them.]]

a good part of science is based on the | assumption that physical continua have a structure that can be represented by the real line, and therefore that we can speak of instants of time. In particular, any science that uses the differential and integral calculus presupposes this. Therefore, this proposal, if adopted, would cause the demise of a good part of science. Or, to put it more tellingly, the proposal flies in the face of well corroborated scientific theories. Its correctness is, therefore, highly suspect. (161-162)


Another problem with the theory that time is composed of intervals and not units is that it fails to account for how (or when) change happens. If two successive intervals have different states, where does the change take place? It cannot be between them, because there are no instants between intervals. But it cannot be in either one, because there is only one state and not a change of states. Thus tie would just be a sequence of still moments. This is the cinematic account of change [we discuss it further in sect.12.2].

suppose that during a certain time a system, s, changes discretely from state s0 to states s1. Then there must be two abutting intervals, X and Y, X wholly preceding Y, such that s0 holds throughout X and s1 holds throughtout [sic] Y. Now, given that there is no instant dividing X and Y, we cannot ask what state s is in at it. However, just because there is no such instant, there is no time at which the system is changing. X is before the change. Y is after it. Thus, in a sense, there is no change in the world at all, just a series of states patched together. The universe would appear to be more like a sequence of photographic stills, shown consecutively, than something in a genuine state of flux or change. We might call this the cinematic account of change. As we will see, it has a habit of surfacing in consistent accounts of change. I will discuss it in more detail in section 12.2. For the present, let us just note that the cinematic account is highly counter-intuitive. (162)

Also, intervals would have to be divisible, which means at one line of subdivision there could be a case of α ∧ ¬α.

it is not even clear that dialetheism can be avoided by eschewing instants of time in favour of intervals; for, unless there are atomic intervals, a possibility that raises the shades of Zeno and exacerbates both the previous problems, intervals must be indefinitely subdivisible. Now, note that the fact that a holds at an interval, X, does not necessarily imply that it holds at every subinterval of X (or else the sun’s shining on a certain day would imply that it shone during every part of the day). There is therefore nothing, in principle, to rule out the possibility of an interval such that every subinterval where a holds has a subinterval where :a holds and vice versa. What holds at this interval? What could it be but α ∧ ¬α?
(162)



Priest, Graham. In Contradiction: A Study of the Transconsistent. Oxford/New York: Oxford, 2006 [first published 1987]