Now that we know why evidence imparts
certainty to a claim, we need to know how evidence matters to a claim.
What makes evidence matter, as Stephen
Toulmin tells us, is its warrant.1
Let’s define warrant as a rule which dictates what is allowed as
evidence and how compelling it is.
Let’s look at a few examples of
warrants.
Suppose that the Mr. Slaughter claims he
could not have murdered Mr. Corpus in
London because Mr. Slaughter was in Gravesend at the time. Here the accused appeals to the warrant that no man can be in two places at once. This warrant makes Mr. Slaughter’s presence
in Gravesend compelling evidence of his innocence.
If Mr. Fraile says he is sick, why does
it matter if his temperature is 99 degrees?
It matters because of the rule that if
someone’s temperature is above 98.6 degrees, he is sick. If Mr. Fraile says he cannot go to work
today, his fever is likely to persuade his boss.
Reverting to the Dover Restaurants
problem, my warrant could be that if the
owner of a restaurant cannot be bothered to maintain his building properly, he
likely cannot be bothered to serve good food, either. As warrants go, this warrant does not seem to
be as persuasive as Mr. Slaughter’s warrant or the feverish warrant, but that
is okay. In a pinch, it could give me
some quick way to make up my mind.
In all three examples, the warrant
states or implies what sort of evidence must be introduced in order to confirm
the claim.
How does warrant relate to certainty?
I do not have a complete answer to this
question, nor is it likely available, but we may make a start here by
distinguishing important types of warrants which confer different degrees of
certainty.2
If we return to the case of Mr.
Slaughter, we see that his warrant confers necessity upon his innocence, since
his warrant cannot conceivably be violated.
This kind of warrant is called a metaphysical warrant. Similar warrants are A statement may not be false and true at the same time in the same
sense; killing for no reason is
morally right; whatever is, is; and so forth. It is characteristic of metaphysical warrants
that violating them drives us to either incoherence or madness.
In
Mr. Fraile’s case, the feverish warrant is a kind of physical necessity. Physical necessities “are ultimate facts,
which we take on the evidence of experience, without being able to give their
final account.”3 Natural
necessities are squishier than metaphysical warrants. For instance, water may boil at 212º F for most
people, but the inhabitants of the Mile High City know that a full statement of
the facts must include air pressure to explain for when water boils. Warrants involving natural necessities are not
as conclusive as metaphysical warrants, but they are still sturdy.
Finally,
we have moral warrants. A moral warrant
relies upon the moral character of the person involved. This kind of warrant demonstrates in range of
certitude exactly that range occupied by moral character.
At
one end of the range, Rickaby observes that “it is a sheer impossibility that
historians should be deceiving us, when they narrate certain substantial events
in the lives of Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar, and Charlemagne.”4 He can say this for a number of compelling
reasons—the sheer abundance of evidence from the earliest times on, the
consensus of the learned, the stigma (once) attached to mendacity among
historians and so forth.
At
the other end of the range, I would not ask a used car salesman to tell me the
value of a car on his lot and pay that price with the conscience of a man who
has done all he could to secure a fair deal; the salesman has too many reasons
to inflate the price.
In
the Dover Restaurants problem, my warrant is a moral warrant. The kind of person who keeps his restaurant
looking spic and span is in my experience more likely to offer a decently and
hygienically prepared meal, but I could not swear by it. This illustrates why the moral warrant is
tricky to apply.
In conclusion, if evidence is what leads
us to the truth, warrant is what confirms the viability and weight of the
evidence. Warrants are not equally
authoritative, so we have to pay attention to the type of warrant being used
when we evaluate an argument.
1. I rely throughout on the Toulmin Model
Argument, as the perceptive reader will note.
For details, see Stephen Toulmin, Richard Rieke, Allan Janik, An
Introduction to Reasoning, 2nd ed. (NY: MacMillan Publishers, 1984).
2. The astute reader will note that I am using
Rickaby’s discussion of the three kinds of certitude (The First Principles
of Knowledge, 4th ed. [London:
Longmans, Green & Co., 1901], 44) to provide a classification for
Toulmin’s otherwise unwieldy concept of warrants.
3. Rickaby, 57.
4. Ibid., 58.
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