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Studies in the Philosophy of Science, 3.2 : 119-135
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The origin of the novel claim about species lies in Darwin's rejection of the Aristotelian world view. Darwin did not, to be sure, invent the idea of evolution; nevertheless, until evolution by random selection had to be taken seriously, the dominant view of species was that they were immutable types, even if their members deviated from the true type. From a philosophical point of view, the real Darwinian revolution was an ontological one. As Mayr (a) has pointed out, it consisted in a shift in explanatory perspective. In the Aristotelian perspective, individuals conformed more or less to types; in the Darwinian, types arise as a result of a process acting on fundamentally variable individuals. An analogous reversal of what needed and what did not need explanation resulted from the Newtonian revolution: continuous motion replaced rest as the "natural state" needing no special causal explanation. Similarly, before Darwin, deviations from type required explanation (Aristotelian science had a branch called teratology, or the science of monstrous births); after Darwin, on the contrary, what requires explanation is that the variety of individuals should form clusters of more or less similar individuals.(1)
But why should we take these clusters of similar individuals — these species — to be themselves individuals?
Whatever may be the explanation for such clusterings, their characteristics, unlike those of Aristotelian species, are susceptible to change. The motivation for the thesis in question, then, is this: Neither sets nor classes can change (Ghiselin (a), (b) (c); Hull (a), (b), Mayr (b)). They therefore seem more suited to map Aristotelian than Darwinian species. A set is defined extensionally: it is no longer the same set if you add or subtract members. A class, if the word is not a synonym for a set, may be defined intensionally, by a predicate. It can't admit of change either. A class is open in the sense that its extension can vary over time, but its defining characteristics can't vary over time. Just as a change in extension annihilates a set (and replaces it with a different set), so a change in intension annihilates the class (replacing it with a different class). Classes are not the kind of things that can change.
Darwin, as we have just seen, introduced a concept of changing species to replace the Aristotelian concept of fixed biological kinds. If, therefore, species continue to be seen as classes, then a most important aspect of the Darwinian revolution becomes incapable of expression:
Classes are precisely the sorts of things that cannot evolve. A sample of lead might be transmuted into a sample of gold, but I do not know what one might mean by the claim that lead as a natural kind has been transmuted into gold. Thus, Ghiselin argues, if species are natural kinds (or classes) they cannot evolve. Conversely, if they evolve, then they cannot be natural kinds (or classes) of the sort that can function in scientific laws. But if species do not belong to the metaphysical category to which they are usually assigned, what sort of thing are they? Ghiselin replies: individuals. (Hull (b) 291)
I shall refer to the decision to view species as individuals as the G-H thesis, for its chief champions, Michael Ghiselin and David Hull. What exactly is entailed by the G-H thesis?
Individuals, in the sense intended, are concrete and they have a history. They may happen to be distinguished from other individuals by their qualitative properties, but if that is so it is merely contingent. We distinguish classes in terms of their qualitative properties: individuals, by contrast, are distinguished essentially by their matter and location, and are therefore individuated indexically.
In this framework, the thesis that species — any specific species —
is an individual cashes out as the claim that it is a particular spatiotemporal
lineage,
where a lineage is defined as "one or a series of demes that share a common
history of descent not shared by other demes" (Wiley, 25). This means that
a species is to be identified not in terms of its specific characteristics,
but in terms of its particular history of descent.(2)
And this is precisely what those who resist this move want to reject. To
clarify the contrary intuitions involved, here is a crucial thought-experiment:
As we shall see, the example may have to be further refined to delineate
some intermediate positions; but it suffices as it stands to delimit the
main positions. For Schwartz and Ghiselin are equally categorical in their
contrary views. For the champion of the G-H thesis, in spite of the qualitative
similarities, neither the doppelgänger on the distant planet, nor
the artificially created pseudo-clone, would count as members of the species
(Ghiselin, Response 304). But Schwartz says:
That sounds neat, but it is far from conclusive. We can always talk informally about classes changing, while at the metaphysical level we can construe the changes that do take place in terms of a succession of classes resembling one another in certain systematic ways. The (merely apparent) identity through time of a changing class would then be very like personal identity as Hume construes it — as a kind of movie, providing the illusion of change by means of a quick succession of perfectly still images or temporal slices.
Against the G-H thesis, many poor arguments have been adduced. With equal and opposite bravado, for example, Mario Bunge claims flatly that the G-H thesis "renders systematics impossible" (285). Obviously that's not true, although, as we shall see, the G-H thesis is more congenial to some taxonomic schemes (such as phylogenetic systematics) than others (such as pheneticism).(3) Heise & Starr argue that it is a difficulty with the H-G thesis that "Either one must say that a species is complete . . . (thereby precluding new members) or one must revise the concept of an individual such that an individual does not have to be complete." (Weise, 289.) But that is a confusion. In a sense, no individual is "complete" until it is dead. (Call no man happy until he is dead, advised Solon.) What is incomplete about the species, on the G-H thesis, is just what is incomplete about the person: not all its parts have yet come into existence.
It might occur to someone that Heise and Starr's point could be reconstructed as follows: a class — the extension of a universal — is potentially infinite, whereas an individual is always finite. But strictly speaking that won't help. For if we take into account the whole history of the universe, they are both equally finite. Gold, for example, is just all the gold there is, was and ever will be: a finite and definite quantity.
Another bad argument is offered by Ruse, who writes:
There is an irreducibly indexical component in our understanding of natural kinds. What we now identify as water, we first pointed to without knowing much about what it really was. That was a matter for science, which has now told us that water is, essentially but a posteriori, H20. Suppose something were just like water in superficial respects, though at the molecular level it is not H20 but XYZ. XYZ would not be water even if it were called `water' by the inhabitants of a planet otherwise very much like ours. And this, in Kripke's terminology, is because `water' is a rigid designator, designating in every possible world just what it was first used to designate, when it was ostensively defined in our own world.
It might be argued that the traditional opposition between individuals and classes has been blunted by this reasoning. On the traditional view, individuals are identified by means of token reflexives, whereas classes are individuated in terms of purely qualitative predicates. But on the Kripke-Putnam view, it seems, every natural kind depends in some sense on reidentification of something picked out by an indexical.
This line of argument, however, would be mistaken. Once the reference is fixed by the indexical, the relation between that original specimen (of gold, or water) and a newly discovered specimen hangs entirely on their sharing certain properties. Indeed, this practice is institutionalized in biological taxomony: the individual specimen of a new species is baptized in accordance with precise rules laid down in the International Code of Zoological [or Botanical] Nomenclature; but it is not even required to be typical. (4) By contrast, the G-H view is that no necessary and sufficient criteria for belonging to a species — or for being a certain individual — could possibly be specified in purely qualitative terms.
The reidentification of individuals is unproblematic in practice; in particular, it is relatively independent of the kind of individual it is — subject to the condition laid down by Wiggins, that we know that kind of thing we are looking for (what sort of conditions govern its successful reidentification). The reidentification of natural kinds, by contrast, is problematic, because they do not, ex hypothesi, have any properties of spatio-temporal continuity. Even where it has originally been picked out by an indexical, therefore, the only criterion of reidentification available is the descriptive one that science specifies as essential to that specific kind.
The nature of any entity (whatever its ontological status) dictates the applicable criteria of its reidentification. How, then, does the nature of a species relate to the peculiar criteria for reidentification of species? Exactly what difference does the G-H thesis make to this question?
At this point, the two sides can be seen to engage in a dialectic. Each accuses the other of incoherence, but each has a logically consistent position, poised in symmetry against the other.
One side (with Schwartz and Ruse) says this: To know what a species really is, find the properties that constitute necessary and sufficient conditions for belonging to that species. In practice, of course, we may identify the bearers of those properties in terms of causal-relational properties of lineages. For those — or so Darwinian theory leads us to expect — explain how things of that kind got to have their characteristic properties in common. These causal-relational properties, therefore, will be good though not infallible predictors of the essential properties definitive of any given species. But the causal-relational properties will provide merely contingent identification of a class essentially defined by essential properties.
The other side (with Hull and Ghiselin) sends back a mirror image of the first. They argue as follows: To know what a species really is, you need to find the lineage to which its members belong. That is, you need to find a group related by certain causal links to some given ancestor. In practice, of course, we may identify the lineages in question in terms of certain properties — similarities and common features — which will be good though not infallible predictors of the relevant causal-relational properties. But those common features will provide merely contingent identification of what is essentially an individual, defined by its causal-relational properties.(5)
Consider yet another way of putting the dispute. Anything we talk about must be identified in some terms or other: "What I am talking about is something that meets the following criterion: x is F." But what counts as x being F? Some properties are defined in terms of particulars or token reflexives, others are wholly general. One side in the dispute (Schwartz and Ruse et al.) insist that F must be a general property; the G-H side insist that it must be a property defined in terms of descent.(6)
But there is room for a third alternative, as this passage from Stebbins will attest:
At this point, a further refinement of the thought-experiment is possible:
Suppose the local and alien beings are actually able to reproduce, and do so. Then what should we say then about them, their progenitors, and their offspring?
Stebbins' criterion of "potential ability" is shown to be satisfied by the "successful hybridization"; so both offspring and progenitors turn out to have been members of the same species all along. For Mayr, on the other hand, it seems that the news about the hybrids must actually change the relationship between the two lineages formerly thought to be separate. Until now, their progenitors genuinely belonged to different species. From now on, however, they are retroactively conspecific.
In a related vein, it might be suggested that we need not a third kind
of logical relation governing reidentification, but a third kind
of ontological category besides individuals and kinds. Perhaps,
as Mayr (a) and Hull (b) suggest, the logical opposition
between particular and kind is too crude for present purposes. We should
acknowledge a third category, a special kind of individual with its own
kind
of criteria of continuity. Hull, in fact, proposes a three-level distinction
among logical individuals: the smallest units are Dawkins' "replicators"
that "pass on their structure largely unchanged." Ordinary individuals
are those "well-integrated, spatiotemporally localized entities capable
of only a finite amount of change . . . of the sort that can have
structure and interact as cohesive wholes with their environment." The
third sort "need not be as cohesive . . . [but] they must be just
as continuous through time." Those are species, which are properly speaking
the entities that evolve: "no entity can simultaneously be selected and
evolve, since the characteristics necessary for these two processes are
incompatible." (Hull (b), 291)
Arthur Caplan accuses Ghiselin of confusing two separate questions: What is the ontological bedrock? and What is the most useful scheme for purposes of explanation? (Caplan, 285.) But it is far from clear that we can distinguish these. What other point could there be to an ontological classification, after all, than to serve the explanatory and descriptive purposes of science?
On this basis, what we are looking for are the principles according to which it is better "for practical purposes" to look at species in one way rather than the other — to identify a species causally, rather than in some typological way. If you are a strict empiricist, you don't believe in real rather than nominal kinds in any case: the idea is, roughly, that you make up some definition, then see whether anything fits it. At least, from the logical point of view that is what you do; in practice, you would want to sneak a look ahead, as it were, to find out what definitions it might be profitable to frame. The "practical purposes" of science are, of course, theoretical ones. So what are the relevant theoretical purposes here?
Actually, as I suggested above, that's not a problem: evolution can be viewed as a process in which what is actually in the world evolves. Real things — populations or lineages — change, but species need not. Instead, we can say that the same lineage can go through a number of different species, passing through them as through the nodes of a kind of network in logical space.(7) On this view, then, it could be biopulations that evolve, or ecosystems, or even, as Bunge suggests, the biosphere as a whole. (Bunge 284)
These different alternatives will present themselves as more or less plausible depending on your other views about taxonomy. For the phylogenetic taxonomist, there is a perfectly logical way of individuating those extended individuals that constitute a species: we have the same lineage, the same branch of the tree, up to and only up to the point where there is a divergence, or speciation. Species will then be represented by branches, while events of speciation will be represented by nodes on the phylogenetic tree. I have suggested that one could accommodate the view of species as classes by viewing them as patterns through which actual groups of individuals pass. Like geometrical forms, species will not be anything in the real world, though things in the real world — that is, groups of organisms in a lineage — may fit them as models. Even so, I would expect the phylogenetic taxonomist to be more sympathetic to the view of species as individuals.
To a pheneticist, the following view might be more plausible: species are indeed natural kinds, albeit ones the membership of which does not endure. For the pheneticist, as we have seen, distinguishes between species on the basis of the outcome of a calculus of resemblances and differences among characteristics (see Sokal and Sneath).
As for the proponents of Mayr's "biological species concept", which
combines some descriptive characteristics with some essentially relational
criteria of identification pertaining to reproductive compatibility, they
will naturally opt for a modified species-as-individuals view.
The G-H thesis, however, also raises more centrally philosophical issues. I want to conclude by raising four closely related issues: the generality of understanding; the existence of biological laws; the place of temporality in science and biology in particular; and the consequences of the thesis for the unity of science.
This assumption is deep, though I confess that what I mean by that is mainly that I can't think how to defend it. But I can say this much, at least, about the intuitive considerations that underlie it. There is no objection to saying that in physics we are talking about individuals — some actual stuff, some actual things. And I suppose it is logically possible that one might acquire direct and intuitive understanding of a particular thing without relating it to any kind of thing. Still, insofar as our aim is scientific understanding, we want to understand why just this happens and not something else; and if it were to happen differently elsewhere to something of just this kind we would require an explanation. The causal power of a mere change of place-time might do the trick, but then that causal power would have to be expressed in terms of a universal law governing the effects of changes in space-time, or of different locations. If we offer an explanatory law, we mean it to apply to stuff that shares with the stuff at hand a crucial set of causal powers. For that kind of stuff is defined in terms of those causal powers (with the implicit proviso: "so long as we have got them right.") To increase one's scientific understanding is to grasp increasingly basic causal powers in virtue of which things behave as they do.
The present view of understanding as timelessly general is not impugned by modern science's increased rehabilitation of irreversible processes and absolute time.(8) In some sense, to be sure, the laws of science themselves are time-bound — on the other side of the Big Bang, or the black hole from which it sprang, the laws we now know may not hold. But we shall want an explanation of why the laws of one time, just so far into the history of the universe, are different from those of another. And that explanation will have to be general. In this way, the generalizing thrust of understanding demands that some timeless meta-level laws be found to explain the coming into being of the laws that govern our physics. Such laws would refer to what Evan Fales has called "fundamental entities" the nature of which is bound up with their compliance to natural laws, as opposed to "derived entities" the behaviour of which is explained in terms of the former. And it may be, as he has claimed, that the number of such truly law-bound fundamental entities is very small, even in physics (Fales, 70ff). Still, everything else that we can be said truly to understand would, on this picture of science, be understood in terms of those fundamental laws and entities.
A corollary for the somewhat fashionable view of the disunity of science is this: any remaining disunity in science simply defines something we still don't understand.
The claim entailed by the G-H thesis is not, of course, that biological organisms belonging to species don't behave as they do in virtue of certain law-governed causal powers. Rather, it is that the causal powers in virtue of which they behave as they do are not ones they have in virtue of being members of a certain species, any more than a stone has the causal powers it has in virtue of being a pretty medium sized polished pink stone with dark vein-like markings. That's not to say that the properties of species, or of a given stone, are beyond scientific understanding. Some of their properties, to be sure, may be brought into certain explanations; but they won't have the privileged scientific form, which allows us to say, implicitly: "This is what being a thing of that kind involves."
Now recall the stand I have taken against Caplan's objection: there isn't anything more to ontology than what proves explanatory at the most basic level. In conjunction with that stand, the G-H thesis does have the consequence that either species cannot be the fundamental ontological entities of biology, or there can be no understanding of the fundamental biological entities.
All this does not altogether preclude the existence of biological laws. If there are any, however, they govern not members of species as such, but the processes that lie behind biological stability and change. The best putative example of such a law is the Hardy-Weinberg law. This is often compared to Newton's first law of motion, because it tells us, in effect, what is to count as staying the same: if not everything in the distribution of genes remains the same, and the changes cannot be imputed merely to random fluctuations, the Hardy-Weinberg law licenses the inference that some "force" (selective pressure) has come to make it change. Other laws might govern the rate of mutation; or the boundary conditions that have to be satisfied if we are to get group selection, or speciation, and so forth. But those laws have nothing directly to say about the properties of those relatively arbitrary spatio-temporal slices of life we call `species'.
One answer is given by Beckner: biology involves historical concepts, where a historical concept is defined as
It has sometimes been suggested that there is a mode of explanation different from the strictly scientific, which is the purely narrative (see Brooks). Certainly, being told that A followed B commonly generates a feeling of understanding. If there were such thing as a purely historical science, it would have to be one in which such narratives constituted all the understanding afforded by that particular discipline. But narration, too, seems to me to presuppose the more general sense of understanding which underlies the requirements of science. For my feeling of understanding will only be generated by a narrative if I have some general conception of the kinds of events that succeeded one another. In the pure sense, then, I don't think there can be anything that is both a science and purely historical.
What then are Hull, Ghiselin and Ruse arguing about?
Actually there are two theses here, which must be carefully distinguished, as they have opposite consequences for the relation of biology to the rest of science. One thesis is that species are historical entities: that, clearly, is indeed at the core of the H-G thesis. The other is that biology is therefore an intrinsically historical science. And that, as Alex Rosenberg has pointed out, does not follow. On the contrary, argues Rosenberg, it is precisely because species are historical that biology isn't:
From all this, though, there is something we can learn about the differences between different sciences. Some sciences — biology in particular — can be simply interested in the particular, as well as in the laws in virtue of which they behave as they do; but they are less interested in finding laws that describe them as such. Others, like the most fundamental areas of physics, are not really interested in the particulars that form the pretext of their study, but only in the laws that account for the behaviour of those particulars.
So perhaps we should revise the claim that science cares only about
the general. If so, it would not be because some individuals are such that
real laws don't apply to them. It would be, rather, because they are such
that the applicable laws are too complicated. We persist in studying those
objects, particular as they are, in the hope of obtaining understanding,
general as that must be. And we do so, after all, because those objects
are so intrinsically interesting. That is a dichotomy which the
unity of science can easily survive: on the one hand, there are those science
in which the most captivating thrill lies in the prospect of rock-bottom
understanding. In that context, we care little about any individual objects.
On the other hand, there are those sciences in which we are captivated
above all by individual objects. In those sciences, among which are biology
and psychology, we think the study worth while without having to be committed
to the ontological primacy of their privileged objects. (9)
Brooks, Peter. Reading for the Plot: Design and Intention in Narrative. New York: Vintage Books 1985.
Bunge, Mario. "Biopopulations, not biospecies, are individuals and evolve", Biology & Philosophy (1987) 2:284-285.
Caplan, Arthur L. "Pick your poison: Historicism, essentialism, and emergentism in the definition of species", The Behavioral and Brain Sciences (1981) 4:285-6
Dawkins, Richard. The Selfish Gene. London: Oxford University Press 1976.
Duncan, Thomas, and Tod F. Stuessy, eds., Cladistics: Perspectives on the Reconstruction of Evolutionary History. New York: Columbia University Press, 1984.
Estabrook, George F. "Phylogenetic Trees and Character-State Trees", in Duncan and Stuessy.
Fales, Evan. "Natural Kinds and Freaks of Nature", Philosophy of Science (1982) 49:67-90.
Ghiselin, Michael T. (a). "On Psychologism in the logic of taxonomic controversies", Systematic Zoology 15:207-215 (1966).
Ghiselin, Michael T. (b). "Categories, Life, and Thinking", The Behavioral and Brain Sciences 4(1981):269-283 (1981).
Ghiselin, Michael T. (c). "Species Concepts, Individuality, and Objectivity", Biology & Philosophy (1987) 2:127-143.
Ghiselin, Michael T. Response. "Taxa, life and thinking", The Behavioral and Brain Sciences (1981) 4:303-310.
Heise, H. and Starr, M.P. "Nomenifers: Are they christened or classified?" Systematic Zoology 17:458-67; quoted in Heise.
Heise, Helen. "Universals, particulars, and paradigms", Biology & Philosophy, (1987) 2:289-290.
Hull, David (a) "Are Species Really Individuals?" Systematic Zoology 25:174-191 (1976).
Hull, David (b). "Metaphysics and Common Usage" (Comments on Ghiselin (b) The Behavioral and Brain Sciences 4(1981):290-291.
Hull, David (c) "Cladistic Theory", in Duncan and Stuessy.
Kitcher, Philip. "Ghostly Whispers", Biology & Philosophy (1987) 2:184-192.
Kornet, Diedel J., Biologische Taxa als Natuurlijke Soorten. Filosofische Reeks 22. Fac. Wijsb. University of Amsterdam. Delft: Eburon 1987.
Kripke, Saul. "Naming and Necessity", in D. Davidson and G. Harman, eds., Semantics of Natural Language. Dordrecht: D. Reidel 1972.
Mayr, Ernst (a). "Typological versus Population Thinking", in Evolution and the diversity of Life. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press 1975. Reprinted in Sober.
Mayr, Ernst (b). "The Ontological Status of Species: Scientific Progress and Philosophical Terminology", Biology & Philosophy (1987) 2:145-166.
Mayr, Ernst (c). "Species Concepts and Their Applications", in Sober.
Mayr, Ernst (d). The Growth of Biological Thought. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press 1982.
Prigogine, Ilya and Isabelle Stengers. La Nouvelle Alliance: Métamorphose de la Science. Paris: Gallimard 1979.
Putnam, H. "The Meaning of 'Meaning'", in Mind, Language, and Reality: Philosophical Papers, vol.2. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press 1975.
Reed, Edward. "The Demise of Mental Representations", Biology & Philosophy (1987) 2:297-298.
Rosenberg, Alex. "Typologies: Obstacles and opportunities in scientific change", The Behavioral and Brain Sciences (1981) 4:298-299.
Ruse, Michael (a). "Species as Individuals: logical, biological, and philosophical problems", The Behavioral and Brain Sciences (1981) 4:299-300.
Ruse, Michael (b). "Biological Species: Natural Kinds, Individuals, or What?" British Journal for the Philosophy of Science (1987) 38:225-242.
Salthe, Stanley, "The world represented as a hierarchy of nature may not require `species'", Biology & Philosophy (1987) 2:300-301.
Schwartz, Stephen P. "Natural Kinds", The Behavioral and Brain Sciences (1981) 4:302.
Sober, Elliott, ed. Conceptual Issues in Evolutionary Biology: An Anthology. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press-Bradford Books 1984.
Sokal, Robert R. and Peter H.A. Sneath. Principles of Numerical Taxonomy. San Francisco and London: W.H. Freeman 1963.
Stebbins, G. Ledyard. "Species Concepts: Semantics and Actual Situations", Biology & Philosophy (1987) 2:198-203.
Wiggins, David. Sameness and Substance. Oxford: Basil Blackwell 1980.
Wiley, E.O. Phylogenetics: The Theory and Practice of Phylogenetic
Systematics. New York, Chichester, Brisbane, Toronto: John Wiley and
Sons 1981.
1. In fact, although the long title of Darwin's book famously
contains the phrase, The Origin of Species, Darwin destroyed the Aristotelian
concept of species but did little to replace it. Several approaches have
been suggested to make modern sense of species, but none is without difficulties.
On this, see the papers on the species concept in Sober.
2. For a formal characterization of the relevant relation
of descent, see Kitcher. I leave it open whether the G-H thesis entails
that all higher taxa are also individuals, and also whether higher taxa
are in fact individuals on independent grounds. (Diedel Kornet impressed
upon me the importance of this qualification.) It is worth observing, however,
that even if, as I believe, the G-H thesis does have that consequence,
it does not follow that the category of taxa comprising species is not
itself a natural kind (see Mayr (b)). Further, it might still be
true that the category of species is a privileged taxon in being the only
one that is a natural kind. This may partly account for the opinion, often
expressed by biologists, that the species taxon is more "real" than other
taxa.
3. Phylogenetic systematics, sometime called "cladism" but
now split into further clades of its own (see Hull (c)) is based
on the following assumptions: "species have somewhat more biological reality
than other taxa; each species has evolved from a single immediately ancestral
species; and each species differs from this immediate ancestor in some
properties that change during this evolution." (Estabrook, p. 136.) Pheneticists,
by contrast, base taxonomy entirely on observable resemblances and differences,
arguing that "[We] cannot make use of phylogeny for classification, since
in the vast majority of cases phylogenies are unknown." (Sokal and Sneath,
p. 21.) The phylogenetics of taxonomical theories are almost as intricate
as the taxa they describe. For more details, see Wiley, Sober, Mayr (c).
4. This point was brought to my attention by Diedel Kornet.
For further discussion, see Kornet.
5. The symmetry just described has led Evan Fales to argue
that "the reconstrual of species as historical individuals does not eliminate
essentialist enigmas . . . . [E]ach of the questions about natural kinds
is now simply reborn as a question about individual essences" (84-85).
His argument for this is that "although Hull rejects the existence of monadic
essential properties, he appears to accept relational ones; specifically,
the causal relations between a species and its genetic origins" (85). This
seems to me right, insofar as "essentialist enigmas" concern the possibility
of giving "real" or "nominal" necessary and sufficient conditions for the
reidentification of something. But for present purposes that is not what
matters. What concerns us here is not whether individuals have essences,
but precisely how individual essences are different from kinds.
6. Edward Reed puts the point this way: "Members belong to
categories, Ghiselin has shown, because the members participate in certain
objective relations and processes. Michael Ghiselin and his brother resemble
each other because they were born of the same parents (not because they
resemble some third thing, "a Ghiselin"). We are all specimens of Homo
Sapiens because we are all in reproductive competition, not because we
share properties. In fact, whatever features we do share are products of
evolutionary processes. It is not being a rational animal (or whatever)
that makes one a human; rather it is because one is a human (that is, a
sector of the evolutionary nexus Homo Sapiens), that one may exhibit
rationality and animalness." (Reed, 297)
7. That story might have disadvantages again, in that change at a point of bifurcation will be treated differently from change in a species without bifurcation. Thus Mayr complains the "the cladists simply combine all inferred descendants of a given species into a 'monophyletic' taxon, even if they are as different as birds and crocodiles." (Mayr (d) 228. Diedel Kornet drew my attention to this passage.)
8. "Après plus de trois siècles, la physique
a retrouvé le thème de la multiplicité des temps .
. . . L'histoire, que ce soit celle d'un être vivant ou d'une société,
ne pourra plus jamais être réduite à la simplicité
monotone d'un temps unique, que ce temps monnaie une invariance, ou qu'il
trace les chemins d'un progrès ou d'une dégradation." (Prigogine
and Stengers, 274-5.)
9. Diedel Kornet generously shared her ideas with me at at
the 1988 Dubrovnik Seminars, and this paper has greatly benefited from
her comments, criticisms, and suggestions. For her own prior discussion,
which I understand anticipates some aspects of the present paper, see her
monograph (Kornet), which I am unfortunately not able to read because it
is in Dutch. I am also grateful for other valuable comments and discussion
from members of the seminar, particularly Brian Baigrie and Yelena Mamchur.
At an earlier stage, Sergio Sismondo helped me to clarify my thoughts on
the subject of species.
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