Thursday, July 27, 2017
Vacation!!!!
I am off for two weeks and will not post anything in that time. I will be sitting by a lake, drinking and eating to excess with friends and family. Hope you can do something similar.
The logic of GG inquiry
In the last post I was quite critical of a piece that I thought mischaracterized the nature of linguistic inquiry of the Chomsky GG variety. I thought that I should do more than hector from the sidelines (though when Hector left the sidelines things did not end well for him). Here is an attempt to outline what is not (or should not be) controversial. It tries to outline the logic of GG investigations, the questions that orient it, and the rational history that follows from pursing these questions systematically. This is not yet a piece for the uninitiated, but fleshed out, I think it could serve as a reasonably good into into what one stripe of linguists do and why. There is need for more filling (illustrations of how linguists get beyond and build on the obvious). But, this is a place to start, IMO, and if one starts here lots of misconceptions will be avoided.
Linguistics (please note the ‘i’ here) revolves around three
questions:
(1) What’s
a possible linguistic structure in L?
(2) What’s
a possible G (for a given PLD)?
(3) What’s
a possible FL (for humans)?
These three questions correspond to three facts:
(1’) The fact of linguistic creativity (a native
speaker can and does regularly
produce and understand linguistic
objects never before encountered by her/him)
(2’) The fact of linguistic promiscuity (any kid
can acquire any language in (roughly) the same way as any other kid/language)
(3’) The fact of linguistic idiosyncrasy (humans
alone have the linguistic capacities they evidently have (i.e. both (1’) and
(2’) are species specific facts)
Three big facts, three big questions concerning those facts.
And three conclusions:
(1’’) Part of what makes native speakers
proficient in a language is their
cognitive
internalization of a recursive G
(2’’) Part of human biology specifies a species
wide capacity (UG) to acquire recursive Gs (on the basis of PLD)
(3’’) Humans alone have evolved the Gish
capacities and meta-capacities
specified in
(2’’) and (3’’) in the sense that our ancestors did not have this meta-capacity
(nor do other animals) and we do
IMO, the correctness of these conclusions is morally certain
(certain in the sense that though not logically
required, are trivially obvious and
indubitable once the facts in (1’-3’) are acknowledged. Or, to put this
another way, the only way to deny the trivial truths in (1’’-3’’) is to deny
the trivial facts in (1’-3’). Note, that this does not mean that these are the only
questions one can ask about language, but if
the questions in (1-3) are of interest to you (and nobody can force anybody to
be interested in any question!), then the consequences that follow from them
are sound foundations for further inquiry. When Chomsky claims that many of the
controversial positions he has advanced are not really controversial, this is what he means. He means that whatever
intellectual contentiousness exists regarding the claims above in no way detracts
from their truistic nature. Trivial and true!
Hence, intellectually
uncontroversial. He is completely right about this.
So, humans have a species specific dedicated capacity to
acquire recursive Gs. Is this all
that we can trivially deduce from obvious facts? Nope. We can also observe that
these recursive Gs have a side that we can informally call a meaning (M), and a
side that we can informally can a sound (S) (or, more precisely, an
articulation). So, the recursive G pairs meanings with sounds (in Chomsky’s
current formulation of the old Aristotelian observation (and yes, it is very
old because very trivial). And this unbounded pairing of Ms and Ss is
biologically novel in humans. Does this mean that anything we can call language rests on properties unique to
humans? Nope. All that follows (but it does follow trivially) is that this
unbounded capacity to pair Ms and Ss is biologically species specific. So, even
if being able to entertain thoughts is not
biologically specific and the capacity to produce sounds (indeed many many) is not biologically unique, the capacity to
pair Ms with Ss open-endedly IS. And part of the project of linguistics
is to explain (i) the fine structure of
the Gs we have that subvene this open-ended pairing, (ii) the UG (i.e.
meta-capacity) we have that allows for the emergence of such Gs in humans and (iii)
a specification of how whatever is distinctively linguistic about this
meta-capacity fits in with all the other non
linguistically proprietary and exclusively human cognitive and computational
capacities we have to form the complex capacity we group under the encyclopedia
entry ‘language.’
The first two parts of the linguistic project have been well
explored over the last 60 years. We know something about the kinds of recursive
procedures that particular Gs deploy and something about the possible kinds of operations/rules that
natural language Gs allow. In other words, we know quite a bit about Gs and UG.
Because of this in the last 25 years or so it has become fruitful to ruminate
about the third question: how it all came to pass, or, equivalently, why we
have the FL we have and not some other? It is a historic achievement of the
discipline of linguistics that this question is ripe for investigation. It is
only possible because of the success in discovering some fundamental properties
of Gs and UG. In other words, the Minimalist Program is a cause for joyous
celebration (cue the fireworks here). And not only is the problem ripe, there
is a game plan. Chomsky has provided a plausible route towards addressing this
very hard problem.
Before outlining the logic (yet again) let’s stop and appreciate
what makes the quetion hard. It’s hard because it requires distinguishing two
different kinds of universals; those that are cognitively and computationally
general from those that are linguistically proprietary, and to do this in a
principled way. And that is hard. Very very hard. For it requires thinking of
what we formally called UG is an interaction effect, and hence as not a unitary kind of thing. Let me
explain.
The big idea behind minimalism is that much of the
“mechanics” behind our linguistic facility is not linguistically parochial. Only
a small part is. In practical terms, this means that much of what we identified
as “linguistic universals” from about the mid 1960s to the mid 1990s are
themselves composed of operations only some of which are linguistically
proprietary. In other words, just as GB proposed to treat constructions as the
interaction of various kinds of more general mechanisms rather than as unitary
linguistic “rules” now minimalism is asking that we thing of universals as
themselves composed of various kinds of interacting computational and cognitive
more primitive operations only some of
which are linguistically proprietary.
In fact, the minimalist conceit is that FL is mostly comprised of computational
operations that are not specific to language. Note the ‘most.’ However, this
means that at least some part of FL is linguistically specific/special
(remember 3/3’/3’’ above). The research problem is to separate the domain
specific wheat from the domain general chaff. And that requires treating most
of the “universals” heretofore discovered as complexes and showing how their properties could arise from
the interaction of the general and specific operations that make them up. And
that is hard both analytically and empirically.
Analytically it is hard because it requires identifying
plausible candidates for the domain general and the linguistically proprietary
operations. It is empirically difficult for it requires expanding how we
evaluate our empirical results. An analogy with constructions and their
“elimination” as grammatical primitives might make this clearer.
The appeal of constructions is that they correspond fairly
directly to observable surface features of a language. Topicalizations have
topics which sit on the left periphery. Topics have certain semantic
properties. Topicalizations allow unbounded dependencies between the topic and
a thematic position, though not if the gap is inside an island and the gap is
null. Topicalization is similar to, but
different from Wh-questions, which are in some ways similar to focus
constructions, and in some ways not and all are in some ways similar to
relative clause constructions and in some ways not. These constructions have
all been described numerous times identifying more and more empirical nuances. Given
the tight connection between constructions and their surface indicators, they
are very handy ways of descriptively carving up the data because they provide
useful visible landmarks of interest. They earn their keep empirically and
philologically. Why then dump them? Why eliminate them?
Mid 1980s theory did so because they inadequately answer a
fundamental question: why do constructions that are so different in so many
ways nonetheless behave the same way as regards, say, movement? Ross established
that different constructions behaved similarly wrt island effects, so the
question arose as to why this was so. One plausible answer is that despite
their surface differences, various constructions are composed from similar
building blocks. More concretely, all the identified constructions involve a
‘Move Alpha’ (MA) component and MA is subject to locality conditions of the
kind that result in island effects if violated. So, why do they act the same?
Because they all use a common component which is grammatically subject to the
relevant locality condition.
Question asked. Question answered. But not without failing
to cover all the empirical ground constructions did. Thus, what about all the
differences? After all, nobody thinks that Topicalization and Relativization
are the same thing! Nobody. All that
is claimed is that they are formed exploiting a common sub-operation and that
is why they all conform to island
restrictions. How are the differences handled? Inelegantly. They are “reduced”
to “criterial conditions” that a head imposes on its spec or feature requirements
that a probe imposes on its goal. In other words, constructions are factored
into the UG relevant part (subject to a specific kind of locality) and the G
idiosyncratic part (feature/criteria requirements between heads and phrases of
a certain sort). In other words, constructions are “eliminated” in the sense of
being grammatically basic, not in being objects of the language with the
complex properties they have.
Constructions, in other words, are the result of the complex
interactions of more primitive Gish operations/features/principles. They are
interaction effects, with all the complexity this entails.
But this factorization is not enough. One more thing is
required to make deconstructing constructions into their more basic constituent
parts all theoretically and empirically worthwhile. It is required that we
identify some signature properties of the more abstract MA that is a
fundamental part of the other constructions, and that’s what all the fuss about
successive cyclicity was all about. It was interesting because it provided a
signature property of the movement operation: what appears to be unbounded movement is actually composed
of small steps, and we were able to track those steps. And that was/is a big
deal. It vindicated the idea that we should analyze complex constructions as
the interaction of more basic operations.
Let’s now return to the problem of distilling the domain
general from the domain specific wrt FL. This will be hard for we must identify
plausible operations of each type, show that in combination they yield
comparable empirical coverage as earlier UG principles, and identify some
signature properties of the domain specific operations/principles. All of this
is hard to do, and hence the intellectual interest of the problem.
So what is Chomsky’s proposed route to this end? His
proposal is to take recursive hierarchy as the single linguistically specific
property of FL. All other features of FL are composite. The operation that
embodies this property is, of course, Merge. The conceit is that the simplest
(or at least one very simple)
operation that embodies this property also has other signature properties we
find universally in Gs (e.g. embodies both structure building and displacement,
provides G format for interpretation and reconstruction effects, etc.[1]).
So identify the right distinctive
operation and you get as reward an account for why Gs display some signature
properties.
Does this mean that FL only contains Merge? No. If true, it
means that Merge is the only linguistically distinctive operation of this
cognitive component. FL has other principles and operations as well. So feature
checking is a part of FL (Gs do this all the time and is the locus of G differences),
though it is unlikely that feature checking is an operation proprietary to FL (even though Gs do it
and FL exploits it). Minimality is likely an FL property, but one hopes that it
is just a special instance of a more general property that we find in other
domains of cognition (e.g. similarity based interference).[2]
So too with phases (one hopes), which function to bound the domain of
computations, something that well designed systems will naturally do. Again,
much of the above are promissory notes, not proposals, but hopefully you get
the idea. Merge in combination with these more generic cognitive and
computational operations work in concert to deliver an FL.
IMO (not widely shared I suspect), the program is doing
quite well in providing a plausible story along these lines. Why do we have the
FL we have? Because it is the simplest (or very simple) combination of generic
computational and cognitive principles plus one very simple linguistically
distinctive operation that yields a most distinctive feature of human
linguistic objects, unbounded hierarchy.
Why is simple important? Because it is a crucial ingredient
of the phenotypic gambit (see here).
We are assuming that simple and evolvable are related. Or, more exactly, we are
taking phenotypically simple as proxy for genetically simple as is typical in a
lot of work on evolution.[3]
So linguistics starts from three questions rooted in three
basic facts and resulting in three kinds of research; into G, into UG and into
FL. These questions build on one another (which is what good research questions
in healthy sciences do). The questions get progressively harder and more
abstract. And, answers to later questions prompt revisions of earlier
conclusions. I would like to end this over long disquisition with some
scattered remarks about this.
As noted, these projects take in one another’s wash. In
particular, the results of earlier lines of inquiry are fodder for later ones.
But they also change the issues. MP refines the notion of a universal,
distancing it even more than its GB ancestor does from Greenbergian
considerations. GB universals are quite removed from the simple observations
that motivate a Greenberg style universal recall: they are largely based on negative data). However, MP universals
are even some distance from classical GB universals in that MP worries the distinction
between those cognitive features that are linguistically proprietary and those that
are not in a way that GB seldom (never?) did. Consequently, MP universals (e.g.
Merge) are even more “abstract” than their GBish predecessors, which, of
course, makes them more remote from the kind of language particular data that linguists
are trained to torture for insights.
Or to put this another way: MP is necessarily less
philologically focused than even GB was. The focus of inquiry is explicitly the
fine structure of FL. This was also true of earlier GBish theories, but, as
I’ve noted before, this focus could be obscured. The philologically inclined
could have their own very good reasons for “going GB,” even absent mentalist
pretentions. MP’s focus on the structure of FL makes it harder (IMO,
impossible) to evade a mentalist focus.[4]
A particularly clear expression of the above is the MP view
of parameters. In GBish accounts parameters are internal properties of FL that
delimit the class of possible Gs. Indeed, Chomsky made a big deal of the fact
that in P&P theories there were a finite number of Gs (though perhaps a
large finite number) dependent on the finite number of choices for values FL
allowed. This view of parameters fit well with the philologists interest in variation,
for it proposed that variation was severely confined, limited to a finite
number of possible differences. On this
view, the study of variation feeds into a study of FL/UG by way of a study of
the structure of the finite parameter space. So, investigating different
languages and how they vary is, on this view, the obvious way of studying the
parametric properties of FL.
But, from an MP point of view, parameters are suspect.
Recall, the conceit is that the less linguistic idiosyncrasy built into FL, the
better. Parameters are very very idiosyncratic (is TP or CP a bounding node?
Are null subjects allowed?). So the idea of FL internal parameters is MP unwelcome. Does this deny that there is
variation? No. It denies that variation is parametrically constrained.
Languages differ, there is just no finite limit to how they might.
Note that this does not imply that anything goes. It is
possible that no Gs allow some feature without it being the case that there is
a bound on what features a G will allow. So invariances (aka: principles) are
fine. It’s parameters that are suspect. Note, that on this view, the value of
work on variation needs rethinking. It may tell you little about the internal
structure of FL (though it might tell you a lot about the limits of the
invariances).[5]
Note further that this further drives a wedge between
standard linguistic research (so much is dedicated to variation and typology)
and the central focus of MP research, the structure of FL. In contrast to
P&P theories where typology and variation are obviously relevant for the study of FL, this is less obvious (I
would go further) in an MP setting. I tend to think that this fact influences
how people understand the virtues and achievements of MP, but as I’ve made this
point before, I will leave it be here.
Last, I think that the MP problematic encourages a healthy
disdain for surface appearances, even more so than prior GBish work. Here’s
what I mean: if your interest is in simplifying FL and relating the distinctive
features of language to Merge then you will be happy downplaying surface
morphological differences. So, for example, if MP leads you to consider a Merge
based account of binding, then reflexive forms
(e.g. ‘himself’) are just the morphological residues of I-merge. Do they have
interesting syntactic properties? Quite possibly not. They are just surface
detritus. Needless to say, this way of describing things can be seen, from
another perspective, as anti-empirical (believe me, I know whereof I write). But
if we really think that all that is G distinctive leads back to Merge then if
you think that c-command is a distinctive product of Merge and you find this in
binding then you will want to unify I-merge and binding theory so as to account
for the fact that binding requires c-command. But this will then mean ignoring
many differences between movement and binding, and one way to do this is to
attribute the differences to idiosyncratic “morphology” (as we did in
eliminating constructions). In other words, from an MP perspective there are
reasons to ignore some of the data that linguists hold so dear.
There is a line (even Chomsky has pushed it) that MP offers
nothing new. It is just the continuation of what we have always done in GG.
There is one sense in which I think that this is right. The questions asked linguistics
have investigated follow a natural progression if one’s interest is in the
structure of FL. MP focuses on the next natural question to ask given the prior
successes of GG. However, the question itself is novel, or at least it is
approachable now in ways that it wasn’t before. This has consequences. I
believe that one of the reasons behind a palpable hostility to MP (even among
syntacticians) is the appreciation that it does change the shape of the board.
Much of what we have taken for granted is rightly under discussion. It is like
the shift away from constructions, but in an even more fundamental way.
[2]
I discuss this again in a forthcoming post. I know you cannot wait.
[3]
In other words, this argument form is
not particularly novel when applied to language. As such one should beware to
avoid methodological dualism and not subject the linguistic application of this
gambit to higher standards than generally apply.
[5]
A personal judgment: I don’t believe that cross-linguistic study has generally
changed our views about the principles. But this is very much a personal view,
I suspect.
Thursday, July 20, 2017
Is linguistics a science?
I have a confession to make: I read (and even monetarily
support) Aeon. I know that they
publish junk (e.g. Evans has dumped junk on its pages twice), but I think the
idea of trying to popularize the recondite for the neophyte is a worthwhile
endeavor, even if it occasionally goes awry. I mention this because Aeon has done it again. The editors
clearly understand the value (measured in eyeballs) of a discussion of Chomsky.
And I was expecting the worst, another Evans like or Everett like or Wolfe like
effort. In other words I was looking forward to extreme irritation. To my
delight, I was disappointed. The piece (by Arika Okrent here)
got many things right. That said, it is not a good discussion and will leave
many more confused and misinformed than they should be. In what follows I will
try to outline my personal listing of pros and cons. I hope to be brief, but I
might fail.
The title of Okrent’s piece is the title of this post. The
question at issue is whether Chomskyan
linguistics is scientific. Other brands get mentioned in passing, but the piece
Is linguistics a science? (ILAS), is
clearly about the Chomsky view of GG (CGG). The subtitle sets (part of) the
tone:
Much of linguistic theory is so
abstract and dependent on theoretical apparatus that it might be impossible to
explain
ILAS goes into how CGG is “so abstract” and raises the
possibility that this level of abstraction “might” (hmm, weasel word warning!)
make it incomprehensible to the non-initiated, but it sadly fails to explain
how this distinguishes CGG from virtually any other inquiry of substance. And
by this I mean not merely other “sciences” but even biblical criticism,
anthropology, cliometrics, economics etc.
Any domain that is intensively studied will create technical,
theoretical and verbal barriers to entry by the unprepared. One of the jobs of
popularization is to allow non-experts to see through this surface dazzle to
the core ideas and results. Much as I admire the progress that CGG has made
over the last 60 years, I really doubt that its abstractions are that hard to
understand if patiently explained. I speak from experience here. I do this
regularly, and it’s really not that hard. So, contrary to ILAS, I am quite sure
that CGG can be explained to the interested layperson and the vapor of
obscurity that this whiff of ineffability spritzes into the discussion is a
major disservice. (Preview of things to come: in my next post I will try
(again) to lay out the basic logic of the CGG program in a way accessible (I
hope) to a Sci Am reader).
Actually, many parts of ILAS are much worse than this and
will not help in the important task of educating the non-professional. Here are
some not so random examples of what I mean: ILAS claims that CGG is a
“challenge to the scientific method itself” (2), suggests that it is
“unfalsifiable” Popper-wise (2), that it eschews “predictions” (3), that it
exploits a kind of data that is “unusual for a science” (5), suggests that it
is fundamentally unempirical in that “Universal grammar is not a hypothesis to
be tested, but a foundational assumption” (6), bemoans that many CGG claims are
“maddeningly circular or at the very least extremely confusing” (6), complains
that CGG “grew ever more technically complex,” with ever more “levels and
stipulations,” and ever more “theoretical machinery” (7), asserts that MP,
CGG’s latest theoretical turn confuses “even linguists” (including Okrent!)
(7), may be more philosophy than science (7), moots the possibility that “a
major part of it is unfalsifiable” and “elusive” and “so abstract and dependent
on theoretical apparatus that it might be impossible to explain” (7), moots
that possibility that CGG is post truth in that there is nothing (not much?)
“at stake in determining which way of looking at things is the right one” (8),
and ends with a parallel between Christian faith and CGG which are described as
“not designed for falsification” (9). These claims, spread as they are
throughout ILAS, leave the impression that CGG is some kind of weird semi
mystical view (part philosophy, part religion, part science), which is
justifiably confusing to the amateur and professional alike. Don’t get me
wrong: ILAS can appreciate why some might find this obscure hunt for the
unempirical abstract worth pursuing, but the “impulse” is clearly more Aquarian
(as in age of) than scientific. Here’s ILAS (8):
I must admit, there have been
times when, upon going through some highly technical, abstract analysis of why
some surface phenomena in two very different languages can be captured by a
single structural principle, I get a fuzzy, shimmering glimpse in my peripheral
vision of a deeper truth about language. Really, it’s not even a glimpse, but a
ghost of a leading edge of something that might come into view but could just
as easily not be there at all. I feel it, but I feel no impulse to pursue it. I
can understand, though, why there are people who do feel that impulse.
Did I say “semi mystical,” change that to pure Saint Teresa
of Avila. So there is a lot to dislike here.[1]
That said, ILAS also makes some decent points and in this it
rises way above the shoddiness of Evans, Everett and Wolfe. It correctly notes
that science is “a messy business” and relies on abstraction to civilize its
inquiries (1), it notes that “the human capacity for language,” not “the nature
of language,” is the focus of CGG inquiry (5), it notes the CGG focus on
linguistic creativity and the G knowledge it implicates (4), it observes the
importance of negative data (“intentional violations and bad examples”) to
plumbing the structure of the human capacity (5), it endorses a ling vs lang
distinction within linguistics (“There are many linguists who look at language
use in the real world … without making any commitment to whether or not the
descriptions are part of an innate universal grammar”) (6), it distinguishes Chomsky’s
conception of UG from a Greenberg version (sans naming the distinction in this
way) and notes that the term ‘universal
grammar’ can be confusing to many (6):
The phrase ‘universal grammar’
gives the impression that it’s going to be a list of features common to all
languages, statements such as ‘all languages have nouns’ or ‘all languages mark
verbs for tense’. But there are very few features shared by all known
languages, possibly none. The word ‘universal’ is misleading here too. It seems
like it should mean ‘found in all languages’ but in this case it means
something like ‘found in all humans’ (because otherwise they would not be able
to learn language as they do.)
And it also notes the virtues of abstraction (7).
Despite these virtues (and I really like that above explanation
of ‘universal grammar’), ILAS largely obfuscates the issues at hand and gravely
misrepresents CGG. There are several problems.
First, as noted, a central trope of ILAS is that CGG
represents a “challenge to the scientific method itself” (2). In fact one
problem ILAS sees with discussions of the Everett/Chomsky “debate” (yes, scare
quotes) is that it obscures this more fundamental fact. How is it a challenge?
Well, it is un-Popperian in that it insulates its core tenets (universal
grammar) from falsifiability (3).
There are two big problems with this description. First, so
far as I can see, there is nothing that ILAS says about CGG that could not be
said about the uncontroversial sciences (e.g. physics). They too are not Popper
falsifiable, as has been noted in the philo of science literature for well over
50 years now. Nobody who has looked at the Scientific Method thinks that
falsifiability accurately describes scientific practice.[2]
In fact, few think that either Falsificationism or the idea that science has a method are coherent positions. Lakatos
has made this point endlessly, Feyerabend more amusingly. And so has virtually
every other philosopher of science (Laudan, Cartwright, Hacking to name three
more). Adopting the Chomsky maxim that if a methodological dictum fails to
apply to physics then it is not reasonable to hold linguistics to its standard,
we can conclude that ILAS’s observation that certain CGG tenets are falsifiable
(even if this is so) is not a problem peculiar to CGG. ILAS’s suggestion that
it is is thus unfortunate.
Second, as Lakatos in particular has noted (but Quine also
made his reputation on this, stealing the Duhem thesis), central cores of
scientific programs are never easily directly
empirically testable. Many linking hypotheses are required which can usually be
adjusted to fend off recalcitrant data.
This is no less true in physics than in linguistics. So, having cores that are very hard to test
directly is not unique to CGG.
Lastly, being hard to test and being unempirical are not
quite the same thing. Here’s what I mean. Take the claim that humans have a
species specific dedicated capacity to acquire natural languages. This claim
rests on trivial observations (e.g. we humans learn French, dogs (smart as they
are) don’t!). That this involves Gs in some way is trivially attested by the
fact of linguistic creativity (the capacity to use and understand novel
sentences). That it is a species capacity is obvious to any parent of any
child. These are empirical truisms
and so well grounded in fact that disputing their accuracy is silly. The
question is not (and never has been) whether
humans have these capacities, but what the fine structure of these capacities
is. In this sense, CGG is not a theory, anymore than MP is. It is a
project resting on trivially true facts. Of course, any specification of the capacity commits empirical and theoretical
hostages and linguists have developed methods and arguments and data to test
them. But we don’t “test” whether FL/UG exists because it is trivially obvious
that it does. Of course, humans are built for language like ants are built to
dead reckon or birds are built to fly or fish to swim. So the problem is not that this assumption is
insulated from test and thus holding it is unempirical
and unscientific. Rather this
assumption is not tested for the same reason that we don’t test the proposition
that the Atlantic Ocean exists. You’d be foolish to waste your time. So, CGG is a project, as Chomsky is noted as
saying, and the project has been successful as it has delivered various
theories concerning how the truism could be true, and these are tested every
day, in exactly the kinds of ways that other sciences test their claims. So,
contrary to ILAS, there is nothing novel in linguistic methodology. Period. The
questions being asked are (somewhat) novel, but the methods of investigation
are pure white bread.[3]
That ILAS suggests otherwise is both incorrect and a deep disservice.
Another central feature of ILAS is the idea that CGG has
been getting progressively more abstract, removed from facts, technical, and
stipulative. This is a version of the common theme that CGG is always changing
and getting more abstruse. Is ILAS pining for the simple days of LSLT and Syntactic Structures? Has Okrent read
these (I actually doubt it given that nobody under a certain age looks at these
anymore). At any rate, again, in this regard CGG is not different from any
other program of inquiry. Yes, complexity flourishes for the simple reason that
more complex issues are addressed. That’s what happens when there is progress.
However, ILAS suggests that contemporary complexity contrasts with the
simplicity of an earlier golden age, and this is incorrect. Again, let me
explain.
One of the hallmarks of successful inquiry is that it builds
on insights that came before. This is especially true in the sciences where
later work (e.g. Einstein) builds on early work (e.g. Newton). A mark of this
is that newer theories are expected to cover (more or less) the same territory
as previous ones. One way of doing this for newbies to have the oldsters as
limit cases (e.g. you get Newton from Einstein when speed of light is on the
low side). This is what makes scientific inquiry progressive (shoulders and
giants and all that). Well linguistics has this too (see here
for first of several posts illustrating this with a Whig History). Once one
removes the technicalia (important stuff btw), common themes emerge that have
been conserved through virtually every version of CGG accounts (constituency,
hierarchy, locality, non-local dependency, displacement) in virtually the same
way. So, contrary to the impression ILAS provides, CGG is not an ever more
complex blooming buzzing mass of obscurities. Or at least not more so than any
other progressive inquiry. There are technical changes galore as bounds of
empirical inquiry expand and earlier results are preserved largely intact in
subsequent theory. The suggestion that there is something particularly odd of
the way that this happens in CGG is just incorrect. And again, suggesting as
much is a real disservice and an obfuscation.
Let me end with one more point, one where I kinda like what
ILAS says, but not quite. It is hard to tell whether ILAS likes abstraction or
doesn’t. Does it obscure or clarify? Does it make empirical contact harder or
easier? I am not sure what ILAS
concludes, but the problem of abstraction seems contentious in the piece. It should not be. Let me end on that theme.
First, abstraction is required to get any inquiry off the
ground. Data is never unvarnished. But more importantly, only by abstracting
away from irrelevancies can phenomena be identified at all. ILAS notes this in
discussing friction and gravitational attraction. It’s true in linguistics too.
Everyone recognizes performance errors, most recognize that it is legit to
abstract away from memory limitations in studying the G aspects of linguistic
creativity. At any rate, we all do it, and not just in linguistics. What is
less appreciated I believe is that abstraction allows one to hone one’s
questions and make it possible to make contact with empirics. It was when we
moved away from sentences uttered to judgments about well formedness
investigated via differential acceptability that we were able to start finding
interesting Gish properties of native speakers. Looking at utterances in all
their gory detail, obscures what is going on. Just as with friction and
gravity. Abstraction does not make it
harder to find out what is going on, but easier.
A more contemporary example of this in linguistics is the
focus on Merge. This abstracts away from a whole lot of stuff. But, it also by
ignoring many other features of G rules (besides the capacity to endlessly
embed) allows for inquiry to focus on key features of G operations: they spawn
endlessly many hierarchically organized structures that allow for displacement,
reconstruction, etc. It also allows one
to raise in simplified form new possibilities (do Gs allow for SW movement? Is
inverse control/binding possible?). Abstraction need not make things more
obscure. Abstracting away from irrelevancies is required to gain insight. It
should be prized. ILAS fails to appreciate how CGG has progressed, in part, by honing sharper questions by
abstracting away from side issues. One would hope a popularization might do
this. ILAS did not. It made appreciating abstractions virtues harder to
discern.
One more point: it has been suggested to me that many of the
flaws I noted in ILAS were part of what made the piece publishable. In other
words, it’s the price of getting accepted.
This might be so. I really don’t know. But, it is also irrelevant. If
this is the price, then there are worse things than not getting published. This is especially so for popular science
pieces. The goal should be to faithfully reflect the main insights of what one
is writing about. The art is figuring out how to simplify without undue
distortion. ILAS does not meet this standard, I believe.
[1]
The CGG as mysticism meme goes back a long way. I believe that Hockett’s review
of Chomsky’s earliest work made similar
suggestions.
[2]
In fact, few nowadays are able to identify
a scientific method. Yes, there are
rules of thumb like think clearly, try hard, use data etc. But the days of
thinking that there is a method, even in the developed sciences, is gone.
Monday, July 17, 2017
The Gallsitel-King conjecture; another brick in the wall
Several people sent me this piece discussing some recent work showing how to store and retrieve information in "live" (vs synthetic) DNA. It's pretty cool. Recall the Gallistel-King conjecture (GKC) is that a locus of cognitive computing will be intra-cellular and that large molecules like DNA will be the repository of memories. The advantage is that we know how to"write to" and "read from" such chemical computers and that this is what we need if we are to biologically model the kinds of computations that behavioral studies have shown to be what is going on in animal cognition. The proof of concept that this is realistic invites being able to do this in "live" systems. This report shows that it has been done.
Now we need to find more plausible mechanisms by which this kind of process might take place. But, this is a cool first step and makes the GKC a little less conjectural.
The images and videos the researchers pasted inside E. Coli are composed of black-and-white pixels. First, the scientists encoded the pixels into DNA. Then, they put their DNA into the E. coli cells using electricity. Running an electrical current across cells opens small channels in the cell wall, and then the DNA can flow inside. From here, the E. Coli’s CRISPR system grabbed the DNA and incorporated it into its own genome. “We found that if we made the sequences we supplied look like what the system usually grabs from viruses, it would take what we give,” Shipman says.
Once the information was inside, the next step was to retrieve it. So, the team sequenced the E. coli DNA and ran the sequence through a computer program, which successfully reproduced the original images. So the running horse you see at the top of the page is really just the computer's representation of the sequenced DNA, since we can’t see DNA with the naked eye.
Now we need to find more plausible mechanisms by which this kind of process might take place. But, this is a cool first step and makes the GKC a little less conjectural.
Thursday, July 13, 2017
Some recent thoughts on AI
Kleanthes sent me this
link to a recent lecture by Gary Marcus (GM) on the status of current AI
research. It is a somewhat jaundiced review concluding that, once again, the
results have been strongly oversold. This should not be surprising. The rewards
to those that deliver strong AI (“the kind of AI that would be as smart as, say
a Star Trek computer” (3)) will be
without limit, both tangibly (lots and lots of money) and spiritually (lots and
lots of fame, immortal kinda fame). And given hyperbole never cripples its
purveyors (“AI boys will be AI boys” (and yes, they are all boys)), it is no
surprise that, as GM notes, we have been 20 years out from solving strong AI
for the last 65 years or so. This is a bit like the many economists who
predicted 15 of the last 6 recessions but worse. Why worse? Because there have
been 6 recessions but there has been pitifully small progress on strong AI, at
least if GM is to be believed (and I think he is).
Why despite the hype (necessary to drain dollars from
“smart” VC money) has this problem been so tough to crack? GM mentions a few
reasons.
First, we really have no idea how open ended competence
works. Let me put this backwards. As GM notes, AI has been successful precisely
in “predefined domains” (6). In other words, where we can limit the set of
objects being considered for identification or the topics up for discussion or
the hypotheses to be tested we can get things to run relatively smoothly. This
has been true since Winograd and his block worlds. Constrain the domain and all
goes okishly. Open the domain up so that intelligence can wander across topics
freely and all hell breaks loose. The problem of AI has always been scaling up,
and it is still a problem. Why? Because we have no idea how intelligence manages to (i) identify relevant information for
any given domain and (ii) use that information in relevant ways for that
domain. In other words, how we in general
figure out what counts and how we figure out how much it counts once we have figured it out is a complete and
utter mystery. And I mean ‘mystery’ in the sense that Chomsky has identified
(i.e. as opposed to ‘problem’).
Nor is this a problem limited to AI. As FoL has discussed before, linguistic
creativity has two sides. The part that has to do with specifying the kind of
unbounded hierarchical recursion we find in human Gs has been shown to be
tractable. Linguists have been able to say interesting things about the kinds
of Gs we find in human natural languages and the kinds of UG principles that FL
plausibly contains. One of the glories (IMO, the glory) of modern GG lies in its having turned once mysterious
questions into scientific problems. We may not have solved all the problems of
linguistic structure but we have managed to render them scientifically
tractable.
This is in stark contrast to the other side linguistic
creativity: the fact that humans are able to use their linguistic competence in
so many different ways for thought and self-expression. This is what the
Cartesians found so remarkable (see
here for some discussion) and that we have not made an iota of progress
understanding. As Chomsky put it in Language
& Mind (and is still a fair summary of where we stand today):
Honesty forces us to admit
that we are as far today as Descartes was three centuries ago from
understanding just what enables a human to speak in a way that is innovative,
free from stimulus control, and also appropriate and coherent. (12-13)[1]
All-things-considered judgments, those that we
deploy effortlessly in every day conversation, elude insight. That we do this is apparent. But how we do this remains mysterious. This
is the nut that strong AI needs to crack given its ambitions. To date, the
record of failure speaks for itself and there is no reason to think that more
modern methods will help out much.
It is precisely this roadblock that limiting
the domain of interest removes. Bound the domain and the problem of open-endedness
disappears.
This should sound familiar. It is the message
in Fodor’s Modularity of Mind. Fodor
observes that modularity makes for tractability. When we move away from modular
systems, we flat on our faces precisely because we have no idea how minds
identify what is relevant in any given situation and how it weights what is
relevant in a given situation and how it then deploys this information
appropriately. We do it all right. We just don’t know how.
The modern hype supposes that we can get around
this problem with big data. GM has a few choice remarks about this. Here’s how
he sees things (my emphasis):
I opened this talk with a prediction from
Andrew Ng: “If a typical person can do a mental task with less than one second
of thought, we can probably automate it using AI either now or in the near
future.” So, here’s my version of it, which I think is more honest and
definitely less pithy: If a typical person can do a mental task with less than
one second of thought and we can gather an enormous amount of directly relevant data, we have a
fighting chance, so long as the test data aren’t too terribly different from the training data and the domain doesn’t change too much over time.
Unfortunately, for real-world problems, that’s rarely the case. (8)
So, if we massage the data so that we get that
which is “directly relevant” and we test our inductive learner on data that is
not “too terribly different” and we make sure that the “domain doesn’t change
much” then big data will deliver “statistical approximations” (5). However,
“statistics is not the same thing as knowledge” (9). Big data can give us
better and better “correlations” if fed with “large amounts of [relevant!, NH] statistical
data”. However, even when these correlational models work, “we don’t
necessarily understand what’s underlying them” (9).[2]
And one more thing: when things work it’s
because the domain is well behaved. Here’s GM on AlphaGo (my emphasis):
Lately, AlphaGo is probably the most
impressive demonstration of AI. It’s the AI program that plays the board game
Go, and extremely well, but it works because the rules never change, you can gather an infinite amount of data, and you just play it over and over again. It’s not open-ended. You don’t have to worry about the world
changing. But when you move things into the real world, say driving a
vehicle where there’s always a new situation, these techniques just don’t work
as well. (7)
So, if the rules don’t change, you have
unbounded data and time to massage it and the relevant world doesn’t change,
then we can get something that approximately fits what we observe. But fitting
is not explaining and the world required for even this much “success” is not the
world we live in, the world in which our cognitive powers are exercised. So
what does AI’s being able to do this
in artificial worlds tell us about what we do in ours? Absolutely nothing.
Moreover, as GM notes, the problems of interest
to human cognition have exactly the opposite profile. In Big Data scenarios we
have boundless data, endless trials with huge numbers of failures
(corrections). The problems we are interested in are characterized by having a
small amount of data and a very small amount of error. What will Big Data
techniques tell us about problems with the latter profile? The obvious answer
is “not very much” and the obvious answer, to date, has proven to be quite
adequate.
Again, this should sound familiar. We do not
know how to model the everyday creativity that goes into common judgments that
humans routinely make and that directly affects how we navigate our open-ended
world. Where we cannot successfully idealize to a modular system (one that is
relatively informationally encapsulated) we are at sea. And no amount of big
data or stats will help.
What GM says has been said repeatedly over the
last 65 years.[3]
AI hype will always be with us. The problem is that it must crack a long lived
mystery to get anywhere. It must crack the problem of judgment and try to
“mechanize” it. Descartes doubted that we would be able to do this (indeed this
was his main argument for a second substance). The problem with so much work in
AI is not that it has failed to crack this problem, but that it fails to see
that it is a problem at all. What GM observes is that, in this regard, nothing
has really changed and I predict that we will be in more or less the same place
in 20 years.
Postscript:
Since
penning(?) the above I ran across a review of a book on machine intelligence by
Gary Kasparov (here).
The review is interesting (I have not read the book) and is a nice companion to
the Marcus remarks. I particularly liked the history on Shannon’s early
thoughts on chess playing computers and his distinction on how the problem
could be solved:
At the dawn of the computer
age, in 1950, the influential Bell Labs engineer Claude Shannon published a
paper in Philosophical Magazine called “Programming a
Computer for Playing Chess.” The creation of a “tolerably good” computerized
chess player, he argued, was not only possible but would also have metaphysical
consequences. It would force the human race “either to admit the possibility of
a mechanized thinking or to further restrict [its] concept of ‘thinking.’” He
went on to offer an insight that would prove essential both to the development
of chess software and to the pursuit of artificial intelligence in general. A chess
program, he wrote, would need to incorporate a search function able to identify
possible moves and rank them according to how they influenced the course of the
game. He laid out two very different approaches to programming the function.
“Type A” would rely on brute force, calculating the relative value of all
possible moves as far ahead in the game as the speed of the computer allowed.
“Type B” would use intelligence rather than raw power, imbuing the computer
with an understanding of the game that would allow it to focus on a small
number of attractive moves while ignoring the rest. In essence, a Type B
computer would demonstrate the intuition of an experienced human player.
As the review goes on to note, Shannon’s mistake was to
think that Type A computers were not going to materialize. They did, with the
result that the promise of AI (that it would tell us something about
intelligence) fizzled as the “artificial” way that machines became
“intelligent” simply abstracted away from intelligence. Or, to put it as
Kasparov is quoted as putting it: “Deep
Blue [the machine that beat Kasparov, NH] was intelligent the way your
programmable alarm clock is intelligent.”
So, the hope that AI would illuminate human
cognition rested on the belief that technology and brute calculation would not
be able to substitute for “intelligence.” This proved wrong, with machine
learning being the latest twist in the same saga, per the review and
Kasparov.
All this fits with GM’s remarks above. What both
do not emphasize enough, IMO, is something that many did not anticipate; namely
that we would revamp our views of intelligence rather than question whether our
programs had it. Part of the resurgence
of Empiricism is tied to the rise of the technologically successful machine.
The hope was that trying to get limited
machines to act like we do might tell us something about how we do things. The
limitations of the machine would require intelligent
design to get it to work thereby possibly illuminating our kind of intelligence.
What happened is that getting computationally miraculous machines to do things
in ways that we had earlier recognized as dumb and brute force (and so telling
us nothing at all) has transformed into the hypothesis that there is no such
things as real intelligence at all and everything is “really” just brute force.
Thus, the brain is just a data cruncher, just like Deep Blue is. And this shift
in attitude is supported by an Empiricist conception of mind and explanation.
There is no structure to the mind beyond the capacity to mine the inputs for
surfacy generalizations. There is no structure to the world beyond statistical
regularities. On this Eish viw, AI has not failed, rather the right conclusion
is that there is less to thinking than we thought. This invigorated Empiricism
is quite wrong. But it will have staying power. Nobody should underestimate the
power that a successful (money making) tech device can have on the intellectual
spirit of the age.
Thursday, July 6, 2017
The logic of adaptation
I recently ran across a nice paper on the logic of adaptive
stories (here),
along with a nice short discussion of its main points (here)
(by Massimo Pigliucci (P)). The Olson and Arroyo-Santos paper (OAS) argues that
circularity (or “loopiness”) is characteristic of all adaptive explanations
(indeed, of all non-deductive accounts) but that some forms of loopiness are
virtuous while others are vicious. The goal, then, is to identify the good
circular arguments from the bad ones, and this amounts to distinguishing small
uninteresting circles from big fat wide ones. Good adaptive explanations
distinguish themselves from just-so stories in having independent data afforded
from the three principle kinds of
arguments evolutionary biologists deploy. OAS adumbrates the forms of these arguments and uses this inventory to contrast lousy adaptive accounts from compelling
ones. Of particular interest to me (and I hope FoLers) is the OAS claim that
looking at things in terms of how fat a circular/loopy account is will make it
easy to see why some kinds of adaptive stories are particularly susceptible to
just-soism. What kinds? Well ones like those applied to the evolutions of
language, as it turns out. Put another way, OAS leads to Lewontin like
conclusions (see here)
from a slightly different starting point.
An example of a just-so story helps to illustrate the logic
of adaptation that OAS highlights. Why
do giraffes have long necks? So as to be able to eat leaves from tall trees.
Note, that giraffes eat from tall trees confirms that having long necks is
handy for this activity, and the utility of being able to eat from tall trees
would make having a long neck advantageous. This is the loopiness/circularity
that OAS insists is part of any adaptational account. OAS further insists that
this circularity is not in itself a
problem. The problem is that in the just-so case the circle is very small, so
small as to almost shrink to a point. Why? Because the evidence for the
adaptation and the fact that the adaptation explains is the same: tall necks
are what we want to explain and also constitute the evidence for the
explanation. As OAS puts it:
…the
presence of a given trait in current organisms is used as the sole evidence to
infer heritable variation in the trait in an ancestral population and a
selective regime that favored some variants over others. This unobserved selective
scenario explains the presence of the observed trait, and the only evidence for
the selective scenario is trait presence (168).
In other words, though ‘p implies p’ is unimpeachably true, it is not interestingly so. To get some explanation out of an account that
uses these observations we need a broader circle. We need a big fat
circle/loop, not an anorexic one.
OAS’s main take home message is that fattening circles/loops
is both eminently doable (in some cases at least) and is regularly done. OAS lists
three main kinds of arguments that biologists use to fatten up an adaptation account: comparative arguments, population arguments, and optimality
arguments. Each brings something useful to the table. Each has some
shortcomings. Here’s how OAS describes the comparative method (169):
The
comparative method detects adaptation through convergence (Losos 2011). A basic
version of comparative studies, perhaps the one underpinning most state- ments
about adaptation, is the qualitative observation of similar organismal features
in similar selective contexts.
A second kind of argument focuses on variations in a single
population and sees how this affects “heritability and fitness between
potentially competing individuals” (171). These kinds of studies involve
looking at extant populations and
seeing how their variations tie up
with heritability. Again OAS provides an extensive example involving “the
curvature of floral nectar spurs” in some flowers (171) and shows how variation
and fitness can be precisely measured in such circumstances (i.e. where it is
possible to do studies of “very
geographically and restricted sets of organisms under often unusual
circumstances” (172)).
This method, too, has a problem. The biggest drawback is that the population
method “examines relatively minor characters that have not gone to fixation”
and “extrapolation of results to multiple species and large time scales” is
debatable (171, table 1). In other words, it is not that clear whether the
situation in which population arguments can be fully deployed reveal the
mechanisms that are at play “in generating the patterns of trait distribution
observed over geological time and clades” because it is unclear whether the
“very local population phenomena are…isomporphic with the factors shaping life
on earth at large” (172).
The third type of argument involves optimality thinking. This
aims to provide an outline of the causal mechanisms “behind a given variant
being favored” and rests on a specification of the relevant laws driving the
observed effect (e.g. principles of hydronamics for body contour/sleekness in
aquatic animals). The downside to this mode of reasoning is that it is not
always clear what variables are relevant for optimization.
OAS notes that adaptive explanations are best when one can
provide all three kinds of reasons (as one can in the case, for example, of
aquatic contour and sleekness (see figure 4 and the discussion in P). Accounts
achieve just-so status when none of the three methods can apply and none have been
used to generate relevant data. The OAS discussion of these points is very accessible and
valuable and I urge you take a look.
The OAS framing also carries an important moral, one that
both OAS and P note: if going from just-so to serious requires fattening with
comparative, population and optimization arguments then some fashionable
domains of evolutionary speculation relying on adaptive consideration are likely
to be very just-soish. Under what circumstances will getting beyond hand waving
prove challenging? Here’s OAS (184, my emphasis):
Maximally
supported adaptationist explanations require evidence from comparative,
populational, and optimality approaches. This requirement highlights from the
outset which adaptationist studies are likely to have fewer layers of direct
evidence available. Studies of single species or unique structures are important examples.
Such traits cannot be studied using comparative approaches, because the
putatively adaptive states are unique (cf. Maddison and FitzJohn 2015). When
the traits
are fixed within populations, the typical tools of populational studies
are unavailable. In humans, experimental methods such as
surgical intervention or selective breeding are unethical (Ruse
1979). As a result, many aspects of humans continue to be debated, such as the
female orgasm, human language, or rape (Travis 2003; Lloyd 2005; Nielsen
2009; MacColl 2011). To the extent that less information is available, in many
cases it will continue to be hard to distinguish between different alternative
explanations to decide which is the likeliest (Forber 2009).
Let’s apply these OAS observations to a favorite of FoLers,
the capacity for human language. First, human language capacity is, so far as
we can tell, unique to humans. And it involves at least one feature (e.g.
hierarchical recursion) that, so far as we can tell, emerges nowhere else in
biological cognition. Hence, this capacity cannot be studied using comparative
methods. Second, it cannot be studied using population methods, as, modulo
pathology, the trait appears (at least at the gross level) fixed and uniform in
the human species (any kid can learn any language in more or less the same
way). Experimental methods, which could in principle be used (for there
probably is some variation across individuals in phenomena that might bear on
the structure of the fixed capacity (e.g. differences in language proficiency
and acquisition across individuals) will, if pursued, rightly land you in jail
or at the World Court in the Hague. Last, optimization methods also appear
useless for it is not clear what function language is optimized for and so the
dimensions along which it might be optimized are very obscure. The obvious ones relating to efficient
information transmission are too fluffy to be serious.[1]
P makes effectively the same point, but for evo-psych in
general, not just evo-lang. In this he reiterates Lewontin’s earlier
conclusions. Here is P:
If you ponder the above for a
minute you will realize why this shift from vicious circularity to virtuous
loopiness is particularly hard to come by in the case of our species, and
therefore why evolutionary psychology is, in my book, a quasi-science. Most
human behaviors of interest to evolutionary psychologists do not leave fossil
records (i); we can estimate their heritability (ii) in only what is called the
“broad” sense, but the “narrow” one would be better (see here); while it is
possible to link human behaviors with fitness in a modern environment (iii),
the point is often made that our ancestral environment, both physical and
especially social, was radically different from the current one (which is not
the case for giraffes and lots of other organisms); therefore to make
inferences about adaptation (iv) is to, say the least, problematic. Evopsych
has a tendency to get stuck near the vicious circularity end of Olson and
Arroyo-Santos’ continuum.
There is more, much more, in the OAS paper and P's remarks are also very
helpful. So those interested in evolang should take a look. The conclusion both
pieces draw regarding the likely triviality/just-soness of such speculations is
a timely re-re-re-reminder of Lewontin and the French academy’s earlier
prescient warnings. Some questions, no matter how interesting, are likely to be
beyond our power to interestingly investigate given the tools at hand.
One last point, added to annoy many of you. Chomsky’s
speculations, IMO, have been suitably modest in this regard. He is not giving
an evolang account so much as noting that if
there is to be one then some features will not be adaptively explicable. The
one that Chomsky points to is hierarchical recursion. Given the OAS discussion
it should be clear that Chomsky is right in thinking that this will not be a
feature liable to an adaptive explanation. What would “variation” wrt Merge be?
Somewhat recursive/hierarchical? What would this be and how would the existence
of 1-merge and 2-merge systems get you to unbounded Merge? It won’t, which is
Chomsky’s (and Dawkins’) point (see here for
discussion and references). So, there will be no variation and no other animals
have it and it doesn’t optimize anything. So there will be no available
adaptive account. And that is Chomsky’s point! The emergence of FL whenever it
occurred was not selected for. Its emergence must be traced to other non adaptive factors. This conclusion,
so far as I can tell, fits perfectly with OAS’s excellent discussion. What
Chomsky delivers is all the non-trivial evolang we are likely to get our hands
on given current methods, and this is just what OAS, P and Lewontin should lead
us to expect.
[1]
Note that Chomsky’s conception of optimal and the one discussed by OAS are
unrelated. For Chomsky, FL is not optimized for
any phenotypic function. There is nothing that FL is for such that we can say that it does whatever better than
something else might. For example structure dependence has no function so that
Gs that didn’t have it would be worse in some way than ones (like ours) that
do.