In philosophy, there are many varieties of skepticism which are distinguished mainly by their degree of doubt. A relatively mild case of skepticism usually involves doubts about metaphysical claims. A rabid skeptic would doubt everything, even their own existence.
While philosophers have attempted to defeat skepticism, these attempts seem to have failed. This is not surprising as skepticism seems unbreakable. The arguments for skepticism have an ancient pedigree and can be distilled into two simple arguments.
The first addresses the possibility of justifying a belief and attacks the view that knowledge requires a belief that is true and justified. If a standard of justification is presented, then there is the question of what justifies this standard. If an answer is given, the question can be raised to infinity and beyond. If no justification is offered, then there is no reason to accept the standard. Either way, skepticism remains undefeated.
The second argument is that any reasonable argument that we can have knowledge can be countered by an equally reasonable argument against it. Some folks, such as Chisholm, have contended we should assume we have knowledge and begin epistemology from that point. However, this seems to be on par with grabbing the first-place trophy without bothering to compete. But perhaps he is right and the only way to “beat” the skeptic is to assume they are wrong.
Like most philosophers, I tend to follow David Hume’s approach to skepticism in the normal parts of my life. I am not a skeptic when I am doing my taxes, suffering through a committee meeting, or eating pizza. However, like a useless friend, skepticism shows up when it is not needed. It would be nice if skepticism could be defeated or a least rendered irrelevant.
Our good dead friend John Locke has an interesting approach to skepticism. While, like Descartes, he wanted certainty, he settled for a practical approach to skepticism. After acknowledging that our faculties cannot provide certainty, he asserted that what matters is being able to use our faculties for our preservation and wellbeing.
Jokingly, he challenges “the dreamer” to put his hand into a furnace. This would, he claims, wake him “to a certainty greater than he could wish.” More seriously, Locke contends that our concern is not with achieving epistemic certainty. Rather, what matters is our happiness and misery. While Locke can be accused of taking an easy out rather than engaging the skeptic in a battle of certainty or death, his approach is appealing. As I have accumulated numerous injuries that I feel while running, I will use them to illustrate my view.
When I set out on a run, I can feel all the damage I’ve accumulated over the years. While I cannot be certain that I have a body with a spine and nerves, no amount of skeptical doubt makes the pain go away. In terms of feeling the pain, it does not matter whether I am a pained brain in a philosophical vat, being deceived by a demon, stuck in the Matrix or really a runner in the real world. In all these scenarios, I would be in pain, and this is what matters. I also enjoy running; the pain is mild and fades quickly.
When I run, it seems I am moving in a three-dimensional world. Since I live in Florida (or what seems to be Florida) I usually feel warm and get that Florida feel on the run. I will also eventually be thirsty and some fatigue. Once again, it does not seem to matter much if this is real. Whether I am really bathed in sweat or a brain bathed in some sort of nutrient fluid, the run will feel the same to me. As I run, I take pains to avoid cars, trees and debris. While I do not know if they are real, I have experienced what it is like to be hit by a car (or as if I was hit by a car) and experience involving falling (or the appearance of falling). In terms of navigating through my runs, it does not matter whether it was real. If I knew for sure that my run was really real for real that would not change the run. If I somehow knew it was all an illusion that I could never escape, I would still run for the sake of the experience of running. After all, even in the Matrix I would still have time to fill. As such, while skepticism cannot be defeated, it does not matter in terms of how I would live my life.
My view that skepticism does not matter might seem a odd. After all, when the hero (or victim) of a story finds out that they are in a virtual reality what usually follows is disillusionment and despair. Intuitively, it does matter whether the skeptic is right because if what I do is not real, it does not matter.
One way to support this view is to use the illustration of a dream: if I dream that I won a gold medal in the Olympics, this means nothing. I have not really won, and it would be bizarre to brag about winning a medal in a dream. They would refute my prideful boasting with the obvious counter: you did not win for real.
As another illustration, imagine that I am see a baby being swept away in a flood. I rush into the water and save the baby, only to find out that it is a realistic plastic doll. While I could be said to have acted bravely (albeit in ignorance), if I claimed I saved a child, I would be dismissed. Retrieving the plastic might make me an eco-hero, but it would not make me a hero because the “baby” was not real.
So, if my life is not real, everything I do is like that Olympic dream and all my good deeds are like rescuing that piece of plastic. So, the skeptic must be defeated if life is to have any meaning. This, shows that it does matter whether skepticism is right. While this objection is formidable, there is a reasonable reply.
My view of what matters in life has been shaped by years of gaming. These include tabletop games (BattleTech, Dungeons & Dragons, Pathfinder, Call of Cthulhu, etc.) and video games (Zork, Doom, Starcraft, Warcraft, Destiny, Halo, Diablo, etc.). When I am pretending to be a paladin, the Master Chief, or a Guardian, I know I am doing something that is not really real for real. However, the game can be enjoyable or unpleasant. This enjoyment or suffering is as real as enjoyment or suffering caused by what is supposed to be really real for real—though I believe these are just games game. Knowing that I am “just” playing games does not diminish the value of the experience, although I concede that what I do in a game does not make me heroic or a “winner” in the “real” world.
If I knew that I was trapped in an inescapable virtual reality, then I would simply keep playing the game as gaming is what I do. It would get boring if I stopped playing. If I somehow knew that I was in the really real world for real, I would obviously just keep doing what I am doing.
Since I might be trapped in a virtual reality or I might not, the rational thing to do is keep playing as if it is really real for real. That is the most sensible option in this dilemma. In practical terms, the reality of the world I think I exist in does not matter. The skeptic does not need to be refuted for life to be meaningful. After all, gaming can be meaningful. The play, as they say, is the thing.