METAPHYSICAL ESSAYS - REDUCTIONISM, LAWS OF NATURE, AND MODAL SEMANTICS A Dissertation Presented to the Faculty of the Graduate School of Cornell University in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy by Vivek Chandy Mathew December 2019 c 2019 Vivek Chandy Mathew ALL RIGHTS RESERVED METAPHYSICAL ESSAYS - REDUCTIONISM, LAWS OF NATURE, AND MODAL SEMANTICS Vivek Chandy Mathew, Ph.D. Cornell University 2019 An open question in metaphysics is the nature of modal space, the space of possibility that undergirds (at least in the traditional order of analysis) our judgments about coun- terfactuals, laws of nature, essences, natures, and other modal phenomena. But modal space and modal phenomena have always seemed both metaphysically and epistemolog- ically problematic, motivating the search for a reductive analysis for them. These essays explore a generally modal reductionist position, one that takes all fundamental proper- ties of the world to be categorical and nonmodal. The particular challenges I consider are that of reducing laws of nature in the face of threats of nomic reductionism’s col- lapse into inductive skepticism, and that of providing an expressivist-inspired semantics for modal discourse that avoids Frege-Geach problems and yet offers a fully reductive analysis of alethic or objective metaphysical modalities. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH Vivek Mathew was born in Defiance, Ohio, and attended Princeton University for his undergraduate degree in computer science. He worked for eight years as a researcher in proprietary trading at Morgan Stanley in New York City. He then attended Princeton Theological Seminary for his M.Div, and University of Oxford for the B.Phil before coming to Cornell for his doctorate in philosophy. iii This dissertation is dedicated to my wife, Jeanie Mathew, who will fortunately never have to read it. iv ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS The production of this dissertation, wanting as it is, has leaned on so many people over so many years, They graciously introduced and trained me in the style of philosophical thinking that characterizes twenty-first century analytic philosophy. I apologize to them for the deficiencies of this present work, and can only say it is the best I could do. But it is no reflection on their outstanding teaching. This section is longer than it otherwise would be because I don’t expect to have another opportunity to thank these people. Still, I will inevitably forget some, and I apologize for the inevitable oversight. I comfort my- self knowing that no actual human will ever read this, so it’s a solipsistic self-indulgent exercise to write it out for my own benefit, for the sheer joy of exercising gratitude for so many unearned and undeserved privileges I have been fortunate to receive. I probably first encountered philosophy when my older brother Mithran brought home some books from his college philosophy class, namely Thomas Nagel’s What Does It All Mean. While I found Nagel’s short introduction to be thought-provoking and mildly amusing, I put it aside for the more exciting arenas (so I thought) of physics, computer science, mathematics, and Western intellectual history. Later, as an undergraduate at Princeton University, what I heard of analytic philos- ophy (via friends taking those courses) seemed distastefully glib and an embarrassing waste of time. How could there be a truth-seeking enterprise on the order of our best sciences in a discipline that indulged childish imaginary fantasies of possible worlds, teleportation, fission and brain transplants, brains in vats, experience machines, or who knows what else? Better to study hard sciences where real knowledge was found, and perhaps intellectual history to get some sense of wisdom. However, I was haunted by the “God question”, and specifically the truth-claims of the Christian faith. But unfor- tunately my experience with campus ministry groups at Princeton gave me the (perhaps not wholly accurate) impression that they only valued reason as an instrumental good to v get people to “say yet to Jesus” rather than really follow the truth where it leads. That led me to my first stint at Princeton Theological Seminary, studying theology and some biblical studies survey courses. Prof. Bruce McCormack’s course made a particular im- pression on me, and certainly a fair amount of Kant was discussed. I was curious what it all meant. Meanwhile at Princeton, I continued studying computer science and mathematics. I had numerous friendships that provided crucial conversations in my intellectual growth. Notable are Neetu Bhat, Luis Garcia, Kelly Fuksa, John Williams, Ryan Carrasco, Grace Maa, Ram Krishnamoorthi, Daniel Russell, Tim Webster, Carlos Lazatin, Adithya Raghunathan, and many others. At Princeton I also found myself drawn to ethics and moral philosophy, finding no equivalent substitute in the world of empirical sciences. I took courses from Prof. Robbie George, an outstanding lecturer and teacher. While I never had personal contact with him, his Socratic style of teaching and ability to take on many different positions as if they were his own seemed like a good model of intellectual courage and exploration. I also was inspired by Michael and Seana Sugrue for their ability to make intellectual history come alive with a sense of discovery. It was through that experience that I came to have an appreciation for the history of philosophy. But it would only be much later that I saw how analytic philosophy is in direct continuity with such a tradition. After finishing with a computer science degree at Princeton, I worked in New York City at an investment bank. I worked with an incredibly talented group of researchers in Morgan Stanley, in the Process Driven Trading group that did statistical arbitrage. Notably for me was encountering Peter Muller, Jason Todd, Graham Giller, Scott Small- wood, Matthew Ferri, and most of all Tushar Shah, with whom I shared many hours of conversations exploring some of the deeper issues of physics and (what I would later learn to be) philosophy of physics. vi At the same time, I was developing more interests in theology and questions of reli- gious ethics, I was led to study informally with Ron Choong, who was then completing his doctorate at Princeton Theological Seminary in science and theology. Ron was a polymath with degrees in law, world religions, and science, and his vast intellectual cu- riosity showed me how one could marry a Christian faith with wide-ranging intellectual interests. I owe much to him for his intellectual ambition and most of all his modeling of a life that integrates faith and reason. Another key turning point also took place in my banking years in NYC, when I had the very good fortune to befriend David Gallagher, a retired professor from Catholic University of America who was a specialist in Thomistic Ethics. For reasons which are still mysterious to me, Prof. Gallagher agreed to give weekly multi-hour tutorials on a brief history of philosophy (from ancient to early modern) with a heavy focus on Aristotle and Aquinas. This was a watershed moment for me, and David’s high standards as a teacher, exegete, and philosopher in his own right continue to be my gold standard of what it means to think about philosophical problems. He was able to connect it all to the moral and theological problems which motivated my inquiry. David not only spent countless hours patiently teaching me the basics of these classic texts, but he also continued to tutor me as I was later in Seminary, when I would take a train up frequently to meet with David. While in Wall Street I experienced the most providential event of my life: meeting Jeanie Gertz, who would later become my wife. Jeanie has been to this day a conversa- tional partner about many of the pressing questions I have reflected on in the course of my studies in theology and philosophy. I ended up leaving my Wall Street career and prepared to leave New York City and we eventually moved to Princeton where I began the M.Div. at Princeton Theological Seminary. There I received inspiration from both students and faculty. On the student vii side, the following taught me much about theology, philosophy, and history: Adam Eitel, Ben Thomas, Matt Puffer, Mark Edwards, and most of all James Rienstra. On the faculty, I am grateful to Profs. Paul Rorem, Richard Young, Robert Dykstra, and others. Most of all at Princeton Seminary, I would single out Profs. Gordon Graham, John Bowlin, George Parsenios, and Ken Appold. They took my ongoing questions of moral, theological, political, and exegetical questions I had. It was such conversations that helped me shape a larger vision of a philosophical-theological superstructure into which I located particular philosophical questions for further pursuit. Prof. Graham seemed to demonstrate the sort of perspective evinced by a senior scholar who has seen many academic fads come and go. I also deeply admired his thorough integration of philo- sophical reflection within all parts of theology, especially in his own practice as an Anglican priest. Prof. Bowlin was the students’ favorite, with dazzling lectures and magnetic charisma that made theological ethics seem to be the single most fascinating topic possible (and that fascination persists for me to this day). Prof. Parsenios was in particular a model of the hospitality and humility of a true Christian scholar. I was not a budding New Testament scholar or prospective PhD student who had real expertise in the languages and history and exegetical tools that one needs to work in his discipline. Yet he spent much time above and beyond any instructor’s obligation mentoring me in his field and even in life in general. Above all, he was infectiously fun to be around, and one person who I regret not being able to spend more time with as I left Princeton.