It sounds like one would conclude that we are simply animals barking, that language is meaningless, and we're all just acting out of the drives we happened to be driven by due to our evolutionary heritage. — Moliere

Meaning is not governed by conventions.

And yet we do make sense of what folk say.

Hence our error was to suppose that we make sense by using conventions.

I'm curious as to how this matches with pattern recognition in neural networks. Attempts to explain language use by listing conventions to show the patterns of the symbols. are fraught. But neural networks work with patterns without making use of symbols. A neural net can make sense of language without making use of conventions. Our wetware allows us to transcend any supposed algorithm, to make sense of nonsense, hitting the nail right on the thumb.

We are not limited to algorithms.

@Isaac?

To me, certainty sounds like a psychological state, something like “maximal confidence,” and it’s irrelevant. It could turn out I was wrong even if I was certain. — Srap Tasmaner

To risk resurrecting our previous discussion, can we have knowledge but not have maximal confidence? "I know that p but I am not certain" could be seen to be something of a Moorean sentence.

Why? I don't need to be certain that something is true to assert that it is true. I will have Weetabix for breakfast tomorrow. I'm not certain that I will, but I'm still going to say that I will. — Michael

We are aren't talking about whether we should call it true or not. We are talking about whether epistemologists should call it knowledge or not. If they do not know that it is knowledge, why would they call it "knowledge"? You would think that an epistemologist should know what qualifies as knowledge.

No. I'm happy with fallibilist knowledge. It's consistent with ordinary use. The list of things we claim to know is greater than the list of things we claim to be certain about, and so clearly what we mean by "know" isn't what we mean by "certain". — Michael

You are in agreement with me here. It was Andrew M who said that if what we currently know (or seem to know) later turns out not to be true, then we have to say that it wasn't really knowledge at that earlier time. I argued against this, saying it isn't consistent with fallibilist knowledge, because under this presumption, what seems like knowledge cannot be real knowledge unless it cannot later turn out to be wrong. Andrew was trying to argue that his position is consistent with fallibilist knowledge, with an example which did not work.

You start by saying that it has to actually be raining for Alice to know that it is raining. You then conclude by saying that we have to be certain that it is raining for Alice to know that it is raining. — Michael

That it has to be raining for Alice to know that it is raining, is Andrew's argument, not mine.

You then conclude by saying that we have to be certain that it is raining for Alice to know that it is raining. — Michael

No, this is not what I concluded. I clearly said "we ought not label what Alice has as 'knowledge' unless we are certain", under Andrew's conditions. This is because truth is a criterion for knowledge, and if we do not know that this criterion is fulfilled we ought not make that judgement, that what Alice has is knowledge.

So as I said in my previous post, you are asserting that if we are not certain that it is raining then it is not actually raining. — Michael

No, this is completely incorrect.

Not necessarily. From the fact that it‘s raining, you can’t conclude that it might not be; for all you know, it might necessarily be raining. — Srap Tasmaner

But we do not have "the fact that it is raining" we have the premise, or proposition that it is raining, which is just the assumption that it is raining, not the fact that it is raining.

But in all these examples, the important thing about a hypothetical is that you must discharge your assumption. So the conclusion of a hypothetical is always, at least implicitly, a conditional. “Suppose I have a dollar bill and 2 quarters. Then I have $1.50 total,” is to be understood as “If I have a dollar bill and 2 quarters, then I have $1.50.” — Srap Tasmaner

You discharge one assumption, for the sake of another, the assumption of the hypothetical. You do not move from assumption to fact.

That’s the whole point of hypotheticals, to see what follows from the assumption, to see whether something in particular does, not to make a claim about whether the assumption holds or not, or even whether it’s possible or not. Sometimes in informal reasoning, people miss the step of discharging their assumptions, so they’ll end up claiming something like “But I just proved that I have $1.50!!!“ when all they‘ve proven is that if they had $1.50 then they’d have $1.50. — Srap Tasmaner

But Andrew was saying that the hypothetical shows what follows "when it is actually raining in the real world". And that's what I argued against, because it really only shows what follows from the assumption that it is raining, as you agree with me here.

To me, certainty sounds like a psychological state, something like “maximal confidence,” and it’s irrelevant. It could turn out I was wrong even if I was certain. Would you like here to do the same thing you don’t like with the word “knowledge” and say that if that were to happen, then it must be that you weren’t really certain, but only thought you were? — Srap Tasmaner

But I'm arguing the other side. I say we ought not say retroactively, that I really wasn't certain, just like we ought not say retroactively that we really didn't know. I say that we ought to allow that when I know, or when I am certain, it may turn ought later that I am wrong. This is more representative of what knowledge really is. And we should allow that I really did know, and that I really was certain, despite the fact that things changed, and what I was certain of, and knew, later became incorrect.

The interesting thing people keep saying is that it might “turn out” that P isn’t or wasn’t the case, that I was right or wrong. No worries when we’re just dealing with belief, because that suggests that there is newly acquired evidence. No one bats an eye at “I thought she was at the store but it turns out she wasn’t.” For all I knew, she was at the store, but now I know more and my knowledge now includes that she wasn’t.

No one seems to bring up, “I thought she was at the store and it turns out I was right.” Here the speaker is still not claiming to have known she was at the store, but to have had the belief, a belief which was true, without his knowing that. — Srap Tasmaner

The subject we were discussing is the issue with the use of "true", in the formulation of "knowledge" as justified true belief. If "true" here means what is actually the case, then when it turns out that what appeared to be known is actually not the case, then we must say that it was not knowledge. So, I suggested that "true" is better defined in relation to honesty, what one honestly believes. Then there is no requirement for what is actually the case, in "knowledge" as justified true belief.

Because knowledge is factive, so something is entailed about the state of the world by what you know; water either freezes at 32°C or it doesn’t. — Srap Tasmaner

Knowledge is not factive, it is pragmatic, that's why I said it's the principles we employ in our actions. This is derived from Plato's "the good".

the problem is that your assertions that it does, and attempts show that it does, are nothing less than deception — Metaphysician Undercover

See Bulverism.

The hypothetical shows the logical consequences which follow from the assumption that it is actually raining in the real world. — Metaphysician Undercover

No, the hypothetical shows the logical consequences which follow from the condition that it is actually raining in the real world. People make assumptions. But whether it is raining or not is a condition that is independent of people's assumptions.

And, there is a very big difference in meaning between "it is actually raining in the real world", and "I assume it is actually raining in the real world". The latter recognizes the possibility that it is not raining in the real world. — Metaphysician Undercover

The former statement doesn't exclude the possibility. None of your statements to me are prefixed with "I assume". Should I conclude that you do not recognize the possibility that any of your statements could be mistaken?

I for one would appreciate it if you stopped saying things like this. Andrew and Michael are clearly not trying to deceive you. If they are mistaken, then they are mistaken, but there’s no deception here. — Srap Tasmaner

Thanks!

"I know that p but I am not certain" could be seen to be something of a Moorean sentence. — Michael

I really don’t think so, but I wouldn’t base that entirely on what people say, their reports. We can say of the shy schoolboy or the forgetful grandfather that he does know something, even though we would not classify them as highly confident that they know. If, with a little goosing and a little encouragement, they can come up with the right bit of info, then they did know, but thought maybe they didn’t. And indeed there’s nothing so unusual about people expressing doubts about whether they know something, rather than what they know. “I think I remember locking the door” can be said in a case where you do remember locking the door, but you’ve done it so many times, you’re not sure you’re recalling the right event. Especially under emotional stress people may flatly deny, in all honesty, that they know something they do: “I swear, I have no idea where your book is, I never touched it!” “But it would have been in your way when you were putting the groceries away.” “Oh. Right. I put it on your nightstand.”

But Andrew was saying that the hypothetical shows what follows "when it is actually raining in the real world". And that's what I argued against, because it really only shows what follows from the assumption that it is raining, as you agree with me here. — Metaphysician Undercover

I’m sure I don’t agree with you.

There are ambiguities here we could try to clear up:

(1) If I, in the course of my daily life, assume that it’s raining, that’s to say I honestly hold the belief that it is raining, without having gone to a great deal of trouble to find out.

(2) If, for the sake of a hypothetical bit of reasoning, and with some concern about the weather but no access at the moment to a weather report, suggest that if it is raining, we won’t be able to go for a walk, I hold no belief either way about whether it is raining; I only mean to suggest how we should act if it turns out (that is, if at a later time we actually know) that it’s raining. Quite different from (1), in which the “assumption” is what I honestly believe. That’s simply not the case here. NB: these are the sort of assumptions that must be discharged; it’s just the terminology of natural deduction.

(3) If I make an assumption of any kind, the word “assumption” does multiple duty: (a) it can describe my mental action, somewhat like “assuming”, of taking an attitude toward a proposition; (b) it can denote the object of my mental attitude, the proposition itself, what I assumed; (c) it can be used just to mark the status of the proposition and my relation to it — “But that’s just an assumption!“

The subject we were discussing is the issue with the use of "true", in the formulation of "knowledge" as justified true belief. — Metaphysician Undercover

Which I for one have not defended, and would not defend, but @Andrew M has said some things along those lines. I claim only that knowledge entails truth, not that truth is a component of knowledge. Make of that what you will.

If "true" here means what is actually the case, then when it turns out that what appeared to be known is actually not the case, then we must say that it was not knowledge. So, I suggested that "true" is better defined in relation to honesty, what one honestly believes. — Metaphysician Undercover

You may of course do as you like, but the rest of us have not invented some special usage for “know” or for “true”; I’m using them exactly the way everyone I know uses them, this being the population that is also perfectly comfortable saying “I could have sworn I knew where I left it, but it’s not there, so I guess I was wrong.”

Here, I’ll give you a good one. When I was a kid, I was taught, and I learned, that there are nine planets. That is no longer true, but it was true at the time, because there is a specific body of astronomers who make the “official” determination of whether a solar object is a planet. In such a case, I might be able to say I used to know that there were 9 planets, but now I know that there are 8. Note that I have made no mistake and have no reason to retract my knowledge claim. But suppose it was a couple weeks before I heard that Pluto had been demoted; during that time I might get into a heated argument with someone I think a fool because he says there are only 8 planets. At this point I will be wrong; I will be in the position of thinking that I know how many planets there are, and I will be wrong about that. Once he points out to me that there was a change in Pluto’s status, I will readily admit that I thought I knew, but that he was right.

The subject we were discussing is the issue with the use of "true", in the formulation of "knowledge" as justified true belief.
— Metaphysician Undercover

Which I for one have not defended, and would not defend, but Andrew M has said some things along those lines. I claim only that knowledge entails truth, not that truth is a component of knowledge. Make of that what you will. — Srap Tasmaner

I'm curious about the distinction you're making here. Isn't the above just saying that knowledge entails those conditions (i.e., JTB)?

The claim is that knowledge is a first-class mental state, distinct from belief, not a particular variety of belief. If S knows that p, that also entails that S believes that p, and entails that p, but for all that, believing that p is not a component of knowing that p and neither is p being true. It’s Timothy Williamson’s “knowledge first” program, and I find it pretty persuasive, though I haven’t gotten through all the technical stuff yet. On his account, knowledge has no such components, and cannot be analyzed into, say, justified true belief.

It’s a position also associated with Oxford dons of yore like Cook Wilson and H. A. Prichard. For Williamson, it’s largely a straightforward extension of an externalist approach to mental content.

The claim is that knowledge is a first-class mental state, distinct from belief, not a particular variety of belief. — Srap Tasmaner

OK.

If S knows that p, that also entails that S believes that p, and entails that p, but for all that, believing that p is not a component of knowing that p and neither is p being true. It’s Timothy Williamson’s “knowledge first” program, and I find it pretty persuasive, though I haven’t gotten through all the technical stuff yet. On his account, knowledge has no such components, and cannot be analyzed into, say, justified true belief. — Srap Tasmaner

I see that there's a lot of literature on the subject. At first glance, a knowledge-first view looks OK to me, but I'm not really clear how it differs (at least operationally) from JTB, since it still seems to hold that knowledge entails those conditions.

Do you have any good links that would clarify the differences?

Interesting.

Given a general principle, after PI §48, that what counts as a simple depends on what one is doing, One must be open to such a reorientation. It's not so much which ir right as which works.

So, on Williamson’s account, is truth defined in terms of knowledge?

We can say of the shy schoolboy or the forgetful grandfather that he does know something, even though we would not classify them as highly confident that they know.

...

And indeed there’s nothing so unusual about people expressing doubts about whether they know something, rather than what they know. — Srap Tasmaner

So how do we make sense of "I know that p but I'm not certain"? If we take knowledge to be justified true belief then surely it is one/some/all of these?

1. I know that p but I have some doubt that p
2. I know that p but I have some doubt that I am justified
3. I know that p but I have some doubt that I believe that p

If we take (1) as an example, how do we make sense of doubting that p?

Or is it the case that even though I can be correct in saying "John knows that p but he is not certain" it would be irrational for John to say "I know that p but I am not certain"? That would seem to make it a Moorean sentence.

Timothy Williamson’s “knowledge first” program — Srap Tasmaner

“.....Methodologically, Williamson (....) defends instead the use of ‘armchair’ methods to answer substantive questions....”
(https://www.rep.routledge.com/articles/biographical/williamson-timothy-1955/v-1/sections/knowledge-first-epistemology)

I like this guy.

No, the hypothetical shows the logical consequences which follow from the condition that it is actually raining in the real world. People make assumptions. But whether it is raining or not is a condition that is independent of people's assumptions. — Andrew M

Yes, and the hypothetical consists of statements which someone makes, therefore, assumptions. Do you understand that there is a separation between the hypothetical, which states the condition "it is actually raining", or "if it is raining", and the real world? You put these together as "the condition that it is actually raining in the real world". But they don't belong together, and in producing the illusion that they do belong together is where the deception lies. The real condition of the hypothetical is the assumption that it is raining, while what is actually happening in the real world is completely independent from this assumption, unless we account for a person's act of judgement.

I for one would appreciate it if you stopped saying things like this. Andrew and Michael are clearly not trying to deceive you. If they are mistaken, then they are mistaken, but there’s no deception here. — Srap Tasmaner

As far as I know, meaning involves intent, what was meant. So in the use of statements such as the above from Andrew M, where the speaker blatantly refuses to recognize the separation between what is said (the hypothetical in this case), and a real world situation represented by what is said, when this separation is pointed out to that person, I cannot conclude anything other than intent to deceive. I suppose the person might simply misunderstand, but why would a person keep insisting on something they have no understanding of?

(2) If, for the sake of a hypothetical bit of reasoning, and with some concern about the weather but no access at the moment to a weather report, suggest that if it is raining, we won’t be able to go for a walk, I hold no belief either way about whether it is raining; I only mean to suggest how we should act if it turns out (that is, if at a later time we actually know) that it’s raining. Quite different from (1), in which the “assumption” is what I honestly believe. That’s simply not the case here. NB: these are the sort of assumptions that must be discharged; it’s just the terminology of natural deduction. — Srap Tasmaner

Do you recognize that #2, the hypothetical itself "if it is raining, we won't be able to go for a walk", is an assumption, just like #1 consisted of an assumption. It's just more complex. This says nothing about the real life consequences of it actually raining in the real world, it says something about your attitude toward your assumption stated in #1 if you assume that it is raining you will not take a walk.

You may of course do as you like, but the rest of us have not invented some special usage for “know” or for “true”; I’m using them exactly the way everyone I know uses them, this being the population that is also perfectly comfortable saying “I could have sworn I knew where I left it, but it’s not there, so I guess I was wrong.” — Srap Tasmaner

Neither am I inventing any special usage, "tell the true" is common usage, meaning speak honestly. The problem is in the ambiguity of the terms, not in an individual inventing idiom.

Here, I’ll give you a good one. When I was a kid, I was taught, and I learned, that there are nine planets. That is no longer true, but it was true at the time, because there is a specific body of astronomers who make the “official” determination of whether a solar object is a planet. In such a case, I might be able to say I used to know that there were 9 planets, but now I know that there are 8. Note that I have made no mistake and have no reason to retract my knowledge claim. But suppose it was a couple weeks before I heard that Pluto had been demoted; during that time I might get into a heated argument with someone I think a fool because he says there are only 8 planets. At this point I will be wrong; I will be in the position of thinking that I know how many planets there are, and I will be wrong about that. Once he points out to me that there was a change in Pluto’s status, I will readily admit that I thought I knew, but that he was right. — Srap Tasmaner

OK, so you say at one time it was true that Pluto is a planet, and at a later time it is not true that Pluto is a planet, though nothing significant changed in the object itself, there was a change in attitude toward the object. This allows that "Pluto is a planet" was true knowledge, and at the later time, "Pluto is not a planet" is true knowledge.

I go further, and ask the question, what is it about this use of "true", which allows that something which is true at one time, later ends up being not true, without any change to the object itself. And I answer this with, it is the subjective nature of "true", that "true" represents the attitude of the subject, more than anything else, which allows that what is true can change to being what is not true, in this manner. This attitude expressed by "true" is an attitude of honesty.

I think this is right, but there might be limits. There's nothing algorithmic about the phrase "put the kettle on" which somehow forces my brain to understand the request. Someone standing next to the hob at around 4 o'clock and saying "put the cat on" would do the same job, or if they Yoda-like decided to say "the kettle put you on". Id' still get it, despite the weird grammar. But if they said "the sun is bright", I might not think they mean for me to put the kettle on no matter what the contextual clues.

So the question (I think) is whether the language provides certainty or uncertainty in that scenario. Does some expression like "put the kettle on" clue me in to what's going on, or did I know what was going on anyway but an expression like "the sun's bright" would throw me off, make me doubt. My feeling is generally the latter, not the former. It's difficult to see how we could enter a perceptual environment without expectations (perception doesn't really work without expectations, including aural perception - it's a mess without it). So, given we have expectations about what's going to be said, what's expected of us, how all the components of a scene are going to behave, we're simply then in the business of harvesting data from the most pertinent sources to confirm the hypothesis. With speech, we're going to be listening for key words and vocal tones, we're not going to even be taking in the rest of the sentence, it's wasted processing power.

As such, I don't see much of a role for externally specific patterns governing the meaning of speech, it seems a completely superfluous layer of specificity, it's just not required for the job.

Do you have any good links that would clarify the differences? — Andrew M

No, sorry. I’m reading his book, Knowledge and Its Limits.

There’s a whole lot I don’t know yet, but my understanding is that a number of problems in epistemology present somewhat differently if you take knowledge seriously. One of the best-known claims of the book is known as “E = K,” that is, your total evidence is your total knowledge. When it comes to rational belief formation, for instance, it is your knowledge you rely on in deciding what to believe. There’s a similar transformation with assertibility, because we can specify the maxim as “Do not assert what you do not know,” rather than something about honest belief, evidence, justification, warrant, all that business.

on Williamson’s account, is truth defined in terms of knowledge? — Banno

Not to my knowledge. I have no idea what Williamson’s views on truth are.

So how do we make sense of "I know that p but I'm not certain"? — Michael

The cases I was talking about were ones where a subject who does know is unwilling to assert that they know because of their uncertainty; your case starts with “I know that p.” It is so common as to be unremarkable for people to say, “I think I know ...” so people evidently do recognize that knowledge and uncertainty about their own state are compatible. People also recognize that the bald claim to know implicates something about their knowledge of their own state of knowing, and can cancel that implication: “I know how to fix this — at least, I think I do.” Your case is a little odd to my ear, but not substantially different from these, I think.

Do you recognize that #2, the hypothetical itself "if it is raining, we won't be able to go for a walk", is an assumption — Metaphysician Undercover

Not sure where you’re going with this. As a bit of reasoning, it’s a little compressed — there are a lot of steps between antecedent and consequent, mostly background knowledge, which you could certainly characterize as assumptions. (That if it rains people get wet, that people don’t want to get wet, and a dozen others).

Still not sure what point you’re making though.

The cases I was talking about were ones where a subject who does know is unwilling to assert that they know because of their uncertainty — Srap Tasmaner

I understand that, but my point is that if one can know that p but not be certain then it should be acceptable to say "I know that p but I am not certain", although prima facie it isn't.

This is much like Moorean sentences. Even though it is possible for it to be raining and for me to believe that it is not raining it isn't acceptable to say "it is raining and I believe that it is not raining."

Perhaps the assertion "I know that p" is implicitly the assertion "I know that p and I am certain" and so the assertion "I know that p but I am not certain" is implicitly the contradictory assertion "I know that p and I am certain but I am not certain"?

I’ve written and deleted screens of analysis of your problematic sentence. I doubt you (or anyone else) are all that interested.

Let me ask you this: are you interested in this sentence because you think it tells us something important about knowledge? If so, I doubt it, but you’ll have to provide more analysis than “This sounds wrong.” Do you, for instance, think that such a sentence is necessarily false?

Or are you interested in this sentence because it strikes you as a bit peculiar, and you’re curious what makes it strike you as peculiar. I think there is no simple answer to that, but I’ll point out that saying either “I know that 7 x 9 is 63” or “I am uncertain that Topeka is the capital of Kansas” is already peculiar. Its peculiarity may not bear on its truth-value.

Addendum:

This is much like Moorean sentences. — Michael

The upshot of which was all about assertion. There’s nothing to learn about the nature of belief from Moore’s paradox.

Still not sure what point you’re making though. — Srap Tasmaner

Just demonstrating the faultiness of Andrew's example.

Perhaps the assertion "I know that p" is implicitly the assertion "I know that p and I am certain" and so the assertion "I know that p but I am not certain" is implicitly the contradictory assertion "I know that p and I am certain but I am not certain"? — Michael

I think this is a sort of self-doubt, a form of skepticism related to one's own beliefs. Sometimes it is acceptable to say, I know that such and such is the case, but I'm not quite ready to accept it. Or something like that. For example, after something really bad happens, and you wake up in the morning and have to remind yourself that it really happened. It's a sudden change in your life, and you know that it's true, but it takes a while to permeate your entire mental capacity, so your old self in its usual habits, is still pushing you to doubt it, though you know it ought not be doubted.

Yes, and the hypothetical consists of statements which someone makes, therefore, assumptions. — Metaphysician Undercover

Obviously it is an assumption of the hypothetical that it is raining. But Alice makes no such assumption. She instead forms the justified belief that it is raining because she looked out the window and saw what looked to her to be rain. (Or, for @Srap Tasmaner: in knowledge-first terms, Alice knew that it was raining because she looked out the window and saw that it was raining.)

Do you understand that there is a separation between the hypothetical, which states the condition "it is actually raining", or "if it is raining", and the real world? — Metaphysician Undercover

Yes, of course. What the hypothetical shows is that knowledge is possible on a JTB view. Alice's belief was justifiable in both hypotheticals even though there was the possibility (from her point of view) that she could be mistaken (as she was in the second hypothetical).

BTW, as a general observation, you and I are, in effect, speaking in two different languages. What makes it especially difficult to translate is that we use the same words to convey very different ideas, such as "know" (which is ordinarily used in a factive sense), "true", "assumption" and I suspect a few others.

Obviously it is an assumption of the hypothetical that it is raining. But Alice makes no such assumption. She instead forms the justified belief that it is raining because she looked out the window and saw what looked to her to be rain. (Or, for Srap Tasmaner: in knowledge-first terms, Alice knew that it was raining because she looked out the window and saw that it was raining.) — Andrew M

And we do not know whether it is raining or not, if knowing requires truth in your sense, despite the assumption of the hypothetical. The hypothetical gives us an assumption, not something about the actual world. So it does not give us truth. My belief is that if we pretend that something said, which says nothing about the real world, actually does say something about the real world, this is deception. Lying is the common form.

Yes, of course. What the hypothetical shows is that knowledge is possible on a JTB view. Alice's belief was justifiable in both hypotheticals even though there was the possibility (from her point of view) that she could be mistaken (as she was in the second hypothetical). — Andrew M

There is no truth though, in the hypothetical, because the hypothetical gives us assumptions, not truth. So there is no truth to Alice's supposed knowledge, just a hypothetical truth.

BTW, as a general observation, you and I are, in effect, speaking in two different languages. What makes it especially difficult to translate is that we use the same words to convey very different ideas, such as "know" (which is ordinarily used in a factive sense), "true", "assumption" and I suspect a few others. — Andrew M

There is a lot of ambiguity in these words, and I agree it is a problem.

I understand that, but my point is that if one can know that p but not be certain then it should be acceptable to say "I know that p but I am not certain" — Michael

What I tend to say when I’m uncertain is “I don’t know” or “I don’t know for sure”, rather than “I do know but I’m uncertain”.

No, sorry. I’m reading his book, Knowledge and Its Limits. — Srap Tasmaner

In my searching around, I found this helpful:

“Knowledge first” is a slogan for epistemology that takes the distinction between knowledge and ignorance as the starting point from which to explain other cognitive matters. It reverses the direction dominant in much twentieth-century epistemology, which treated belief as explanatorily prior to knowledge, attempting to analyze knowledge as belief that meets further conditions, such as truth and justification. By contrast, a knowledge first epistemologist might treat believing something as treating it as if one knew it.

The most striking difference between knowledge and belief is that knowledge entails truth while belief does not. There is false belief but no false knowledge. Some people believe that Africa is a single country, but since it is false that it is a single country, they do not know that it is a single country. They just believe falsely that they know that Africa is a single country. In this sense, all knowledge but not all belief is successful. Thus knowledge first epistemology gives explanatory priority to success. This does not mean that belief first epistemology gives priority to failure. Rather, it gives explanatory priority to conditions that are neutral between success and failure: some beliefs constitute knowledge, others are false. — Knowledge First Epistemology, Timothy Williamson - The Routledge Companion to Epistemology

In my view, it has a very Rylean feel to it (e.g., "success" and "try" verbs).

There’s a whole lot I don’t know yet, but my understanding is that a number of problems in epistemology present somewhat differently if you take knowledge seriously. One of the best-known claims of the book is known as “E = K,” that is, your total evidence is your total knowledge. When it comes to rational belief formation, for instance, it is your knowledge you rely on in deciding what to believe. There’s a similar transformation with assertibility, because we can specify the maxim as “Do not assert what you do not know,” rather than something about honest belief, evidence, justification, warrant, all that business. — Srap Tasmaner

It would be interesting to compare that maxim with Grice's maxim of quality (truth).

My belief is that if we pretend that something said, which says nothing about the real world, actually does say something about the real world, this is deception. — Metaphysician Undercover

This has occurred to me. It might be simpler to call a spade a spade here.

An assumption H for the purposes of hypothetical reasoning picks out a set of possible worlds at which H is true. That set may or may not include the actual world. We may or may not know whether it does.

The goal then would be to discharge the hypothetical assumption in a true counterfactual conditional, which may be degenerate in the sense of having an antecedent that is true at the actual world. I understand those are tricky to deal with, but oh well.

For example, the hypothetical assumption “Suppose I have lost my copy of Lewis 1973” picks out a set of possible worlds at which I have indeed lost my copy of Lewis 1973. If I determine that in any such world (or only in nearby worlds, or in sufficiently similar worlds, etc., whatever the appropriate restriction is) I would be a miserable cuss, and I would prefer not to be, then I can discharge the assumption by concluding, for example, “If I were to lose my copy of Lewis 1973, I would have to replace it.”

Pretending is a very interesting subject, but the sorts of hypotheticals we’re interested in around here are probably best analyzed in the obvious way, as counterfactuals.

(IIRC, Frank Ramsey scratched his head over hypotheticals in a footnote somewhere, suggesting that entertaining a hypothetical was like “temporarily” adding it to your set of beliefs — I always wondered how he imagined we did such a thing.)

The upshot of which was all about assertion. There’s nothing to learn about the nature of belief from Moore’s paradox. — Srap Tasmaner

Well, if one were to take a Wittgensteinian approach to language then surely the use of the assertion "I know that p but I am not certain" has something to do with the meaning of the proposition "I know that p but I am not certain", and so if there's something problematic about the former then there's something problematic about the latter, and so the claim that one can have knowledge without being certain is problematic.

You accept that we sometimes wrongly attribute knowledge to ourselves and others. Perhaps it's wrong to attribute knowledge when the subject lacks certainty. Getting something right obviously isn't sufficient for knowledge, else any true belief (e.g. a lucky guess) would count as knowledge. Maybe justification isn't a sufficient addition. A justified true belief that lacks certainty might just be a justified guess.

If, with a little goosing and a little encouragement, they can come up with the right bit of info, then they did know — Srap Tasmaner

For example this. Perhaps they didn't know; perhaps they just made a successful justified guess.

in knowledge-first terms, Alice knew that it was raining because she looked out the window and saw that it was raining. — Andrew M

In knowledge-first terms, I know it is raining because I already know what it is to be raining.

A precise reduction to the thread’s original question. I know what is true because I already know what it is to be true. I know what is true because I already know what truth is.

An assumption H for the purposes of hypothetical reasoning picks out a set of possible worlds at which H is true. That set may or may not include the actual world. We may or may not know whether it does. — Srap Tasmaner

The problem I see with the possible worlds scenario, is that if we assume possible worlds, and we want to assign "actual world" to one of them, then we need some principles to support the "actual world" as distinct from the others. Then, the actual world is a special world, and cannot be one of the possible worlds, because it has that special status which sets it apart as distinct. So if hypotheticals assume "possible worlds", we must maintain that none of these possible worlds is the actual world, because the actual world would necessarily require a separate category, as having the distinction of being unique and different from the set of possible worlds.

So in conclusion, if we are applying "possible worlds", we must maintain that we necessarily do not know whether the set of possible worlds contains a world which accurately describes the actual world, because this would make it distinct from the others, and therefore not one of the others. If we allow that we know one of the possibilities to be actual, this would be a prejudice, and it would support a disguised sort of begging the question, a dishonesty.

The goal then would be to discharge the hypothetical assumption in a true counterfactual conditional, which may be degenerate in the sense of having an antecedent that is true at the actual world. I understand those are tricky to deal with, but oh well. — Srap Tasmaner

According to the principle described above, the "counterfactual" is completely wrong, in principle. It proposes a possible world in which the actual world is already assumed to be distinct and known as distinct, hence counter to fact. So unless we describe all the details which distinguish the proposed possible world from the actual world, and account for each one of the relevant differences, the proposed counterfactual provides us with nothing valid toward our assumed actual world, and is likely more misleading than anything else. In other words, the usefulness and reliability of the counterfactual is completely dependent on the principles whereby the actual world is related to the counterfactual world.

The "true" option would be to relate the counterfactual only to other possible worlds, and produce conclusion completely in the realm of possibilities, with no reference to anything actual, as explained above. But this removes any usefulness. And to produce usefulness, we'd have to assume an actual world, and then relate each counterfactual world to the actual world. And that's where the problem lies, the prejudice which constitutes any proposed "the actual world".

For example, the hypothetical assumption “Suppose I have lost my copy of Lewis 1973” picks out a set of possible worlds at which I have indeed lost my copy of Lewis 1973. If I determine that in any such world (or only in nearby worlds, or in sufficiently similar worlds, etc., whatever the appropriate restriction is) I would be a miserable cuss, and I would prefer not to be, then I can discharge the assumption by concluding, for example, “If I were to lose my copy of Lewis 1973, I would have to replace it.” — Srap Tasmaner

Taking this example, in order for it to be useful, you need principles to relate the possible world to an actual world. Otherwise nothing grounds "my copy of Lewis 1973", and "I would be a miserable cuss", etc.. The "true" way to proceed with the hypothetical would be to relate the possible world to an endless number of other possible worlds, you don't have a copy, you have one and you hate it, etc.. Then each aspect of any proposed "actual world" which might be introduced, to narrow the field of possible worlds, would have to be assessed, and valued for 'probability of accuracy', through the application of standards, before any aspects are accepted as true aspects of the actual world. Now, in this scenario, we still fall back on the basic principle of judging the truth and falsity of the propositions. However, the truth of the proposition is judged as a 'probability', rather than bivalence. The whole structure hinges on maintaining the separation between possible worlds and actual world, and enforcing the principle that any aspect of a possible world has only a probability of accurately representing the assumed actual world.

Your argument is that if there’s something odd about saying “I know that p but I am not certain,” then (“perhaps”) knowledge requires certainty.

Except that’s not an argument. From S asserting “I know that p,” it does not follow that S knows that p; from S asserting “I am uncertain,” it does not follow that S is uncertain; we can’t infer that if S were to assert the problematic sentence then S would have to be in a problematic mental state.

But we can argue directly.

You suspect that S knows that P entails S is certain that P. (No one is claiming the converse.) That’s not implausible; I just don’t think there’s been any argument for it yet. And I find the contrapositive dubious.

Here’s another example, A and B fighting about a book of A’s that she can’t find:
B: I swear, I don’t know where it is, I never touched your book!!!
A: I might have left it in the kitchen.
B: We’re in the kitchen, and I don’t see it, so you left it somewhere else.
A: It would have been in the way when you were bringing in the groceries.
B: Oh. Right. Yes. I put it on your nightstand.

In this case, B flatly denies knowing where the book is. (Note this construction: it’s knowing-what rather than knowing-that.) As it turns out, B does know where the book is, because B herself put it there. What do we say about B’s certainty in such a case?

B is certain that her mental state is not that of knowing where the book is — and she’s wrong — but we’re not interested in that. What is B’s certainty with respect to “where the book is”? B is certain that that location, whatever it is, is not a member of “in the kitchen”! Still not what we want. (B is probably also convinced that A knows — but can’t recall — or should know where the book is, because she is responsible for its current location, not B.)

We want B’s attitude toward the proposition “The book is on A’s nightstand.” This is a proposition that B knows, as it turns out, but cannot at the moment produce. If asked, that might be enough to jog B’s memory, so she might assent to the proposition. Might not. But certainty? Would you say B is certain that the book is on A’s nightstand?

I suspect certainty that the book is on A’s nightstand attaches the moment B remembers putting it there. Before that? I don’t know.

Maybe your conception of certainty is different from mine, but I always think of it as a more or less fleeting psychological state, so it’s only in evidence when what you’re certain about is present to mind. That’s clearly not the case with knowledge.

Maybe you have a better or a different conception of certainty.

The problem I see with the possible worlds scenario, is that if we assume possible worlds, and we want to assign "actual world" to one of them, then we need some principles to support the "actual world" as distinct from the others. Then, the actual world is a special world, and cannot be one of the possible worlds, because it has that special status which sets it apart as distinct. — Metaphysician Undercover

So if I have a stack of boxes and put an X on one of them with a Sharpie, it’s no longer a box. Cool. Nice job.

Or maybe your argument is that if I have a stack of boxes and a toaster, then the toaster is not a box. That is certainly a stronger argument.

Your argument is that if there’s something odd about saying “I know that p but I am not certain,” then (“perhaps”) knowledge requires certainty.

Except that’s not an argument. From S asserting “I know that p,” it does not follow that S knows that p; from S asserting “I am uncertain,” it does not follow that S is uncertain; we can’t infer that if S were to assert the problematic sentence then S would have to be in a problematic mental state. — Srap Tasmaner

I'm aware that I haven't presented an argument as such. I'm just looking at a potential line of enquiry that may lead us somewhere interesting (or maybe nowhere at all). If you're interested in considering it then I'll repeat and add to something I said earlier.

"I know that p but I'm not certain" presumably means one/some/all of these:

1. I know that p but I have some doubt that I believe that p
2. I know that p but I have some doubt that my belief is justified
3. I know that p but I have some doubt that p

These in turn can be simplified to:

1. I believe that p but I have some doubt that I believe that p
2. My belief that p is justified but I have some doubt that my belief that p is justified
3. p but I have some doubt that p

I'd like to address (3) first. How do we make sense of a claim such as "p but I have some doubt that p"? What does it mean to doubt that p? I suppose we could define it circularly as not being certain that p, but that seems lazy.

In the previous discussion on the matter, I interpreted it as accepting the possibility that not p, and not just in the "there is a possible world where not p" sense. I couldn't really explain it any further than that, although you interpreted it as not knowing that p.

But if "p but I have some doubt that p" means "p but I do not know p" and if "I know that p but I'm not certain" means (sometimes) "I know that p but I have some doubt that p" then "I know that p but I have some doubt that p" means "I know that p but I don't know that p", which is of course a contradiction.

Now, it might very well be that there is a distinction between the assertion "I know that p but I'm not certain" and the proposition "I know that p but I'm not certain" such that the former is the aforementioned contradiction but the latter is not, although I wonder if a Wittgensteinian approach would allow for this distinction. He does spend three pages addressing Moore's paradox (which this seems to be a variation of) in the Philosophical Investigations, but I can't really glean much of an answer to it.

But even if we were to accept a distinction between the assertion and the proposition, it still needs to be explained what "I'm not certain" actually means, as it may very well lead to the same conclusion above; that "I'm not certain" means "I don't know".

And In fact the third-person claim "John knows that p but he is not certain" presumably avoids having to draw a distinction between an assertion and a proposition. Does "John knows that p but is not certain" mean "John knows that p but has some doubt that p", and does this mean "John knows that p but does not know that p"?

it still needs to be explained what "I'm not certain" actually means, as it may very well lead to the same conclusion above; that "I'm not certain" means "I don't know". — Michael

And even if it is used, on some occasion, with that intention, what does that tell you?

I’ve already presented a case in which someone flatly denies having knowledge that they do in fact have. It’s not so odd. (And it’s another reminder that from someone asserting P, you can’t deduce P.) I gave my intuitions about whether and when we should say they are certain. Unless we intend to define certainty or knowledge, that’s about all we’ve got so far. Can we improve that situation? Does certainty at least entail something else we could check for?

I’ll give another example: people sometimes downgrade their claims to knowledge for non-epistemic reasons. (Women on this forum are no doubt familiar with this maneuver.) “I know the answer! — At least, I think I do. I could be wrong.” That could be a genuine expression of uncertainty, or a political move. It can’t help us explain the connection between knowledge and certainty.