The Problems of Philosophy (Annotated)

This is an annotated version of the book1.contains an updated biography of the author at the end of the book for a better understanding of the text.2.This book has been checked and corrected for spelling errorsIs there any knowledge in the world which is so certain that noreasonable man could doubt it? This question, which at first sight mightnot seem difficult, is really one of the most difficult that canbe asked. When we have realized the obstacles in the way of astraightforward and confident answer, we shall be well launched on thestudy of philosophy--for philosophy is merely the attempt to answersuch ultimate questions, not carelessly and dogmatically, as we do inordinary life and even in the sciences, but critically, after exploringall that makes such questions puzzling, and after realizing all thevagueness and confusion that underlie our ordinary ideas.In daily life, we assume as certain many things which, on a closerscrutiny, are found to be so full of apparent contradictions that only agreat amount of thought enables us to know what it is that we really maybelieve. In the search for certainty, it is natural to begin with ourpresent experiences, and in some sense, no doubt, knowledge is to bederived from them. But any statement as to what it is that our immediateexperiences make us know is very likely to be wrong. It seems to me thatI am now sitting in a chair, at a table of a certain shape, on which Isee sheets of paper with writing or print. By turning my head I see outof the window buildings and clouds and the sun. I believe that the sunis about ninety-three million miles from the earth; that it is a hotglobe many times bigger than the earth; that, owing to the earth'srotation, it rises every morning, and will continue to do so for anindefinite time in the future. I believe that, if any other normalperson comes into my room, he will see the same chairs and tables andbooks and papers as I see, and that the table which I see is the same asthe table which I feel pressing against my arm. All this seems to beso evident as to be hardly worth stating, except in answer to a man whodoubts whether I know anything. Yet all this may be reasonably doubted, and all of it requires much careful discussion before we can be surethat we have stated it in a form that is wholly true.To make our difficulties plain, let us concentrate attention on thetable. To the eye it is oblong, brown and shiny, to the touch it issmooth and cool and hard; when I tap it, it gives out a wooden sound.Any one else who sees and feels and hears the table will agree with thisdescription, so that it might seem as if no difficulty would arise;but as soon as we try to be more precise our troubles begin. AlthoughI believe that the table is 'really' of the same colour all over, theparts that reflect the light look much brighter than the other parts, and some parts look white because of reflected light. I know that, ifI move, the parts that reflect the light will be different, so that theapparent distribution of colours on the table will change. It followsthat if several people are looking at the table at the same moment, notwo of them will see exactly the same distribution of colours, becauseno two can see it from exactly the same point of view, and any change inthe point of view makes some change in the way the light is reflected.For most practical purposes these differences are unimportant, but tothe painter they are all-important: the painter has to unlearn the habitof thinking that things seem to have the colour which common sense saysthey 'really' have, and to learn the habit of seeing things as theyappear. Here we have already the beginning of one of the distinctionsthat cause most trouble in philosophy--the distinction between'appearance' and 'reality', between what things seem to be and what theyar