EPISTEMOLOGY

Contemporary Readings

Edited by
Michael Huemer
With an introduction by
Robert Audi

London and New York

For my students

First published 2002

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© 2002 Selection and editorial matter, Michael Huemer; Introduction, Robert Audi

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A.J. Ayer, “Knowing as Having the Right
to be Sure”

The answers which we have found for the questions we have so far been discuss-
ing have not yet put us in a position to give a complete account of what it is to
know that something is the case. The first requirement is that what is known
should be true, but this is not sufficient; not even if we add to it the further
condition that one must be completely sure of what one knows. For it is possible
to be completely sure of something which is in fact true, but yet not to know it.
The circumstances may be such that one is not entitled to be sure. For instance, a
superstitious person who had inadvertently walked under a ladder might be con-
vinced as a result that he was about to suffer some misfortune; and he might in
fact be right. But it would not be correct to say that he knew that this was going
to be so. He arrived at his belief by a process of reasoning which would not be
generally reliable; so, although his prediction came true, it was not a case of
knowledge. Again, if someone were fully persuaded of a mathematical prop-
osition by a proof which could be shown to be invalid, he would not, without
further evidence, be said to know the proposition, even though it was true. But
while it is not hard to find examples of true and fully confident beliefs which in
some ways fail to meet the standards required for knowledge, it is not at all easy
to determine exactly what these standards are.
One way of trying to discover them would be to consider what would count as
satisfactory answers to the question How do you know? Thus people may be
credited with knowing truths of mathematics or logic if they are able to give a
valid proof of them, or even if, without themselves being able to set out such a
proof, they have obtained this information from someone who can. Claims to
know empirical statements may be upheld by a reference to perception, or to
memory, or to testimony, or to historical records, or to scientific laws. But such
backing is not always strong enough for knowledge. Whether it is so or not
depends upon the circumstances of the particular case. If I were asked how I
knew that a physical object of a certain sort was in such and such a place, it
would, in general, be a sufficient answer for me to say that I could see it; but if my
eyesight were bad and the light were dim, this answer might not be sufficient.
Even though I was right, it might still be said that I did not really know that
the object was there. If I have a poor memory and the event which I claim to

A.J. Ayer, “Knowing as Having the Right to be Sure,” The Problem of Knowledge
(London: Macmillan, 1956).
440
“KNOWING AS HAVING THE RIGHT TO BE SURE”
remember is remote, my memory of it may still not amount to knowledge, even
though in this instance it does not fail me. If a witness is unreliable, his unsup-
ported evidence may not enable us to know that what he says is true, even in a
case where we completely trust him and he is not in fact deceiving us. In a given
instance it is possible to decide whether the backing is strong enough to justify a
claim to knowledge. But to say in general how strong it has to be would require
our drawing up a list of the conditions under which perception, or memory, or
testimony, or other forms of evidence are reliable. And this would be a very
complicated matter, if indeed it could be done at all.
Moreover, we cannot assume that, even in particular instances, an answer to
the question How do you know? will always be forthcoming. There may very
well be cases in which one knows that something is so without its being possible
to say how one knows it. I am not so much thinking now of claims to know facts
of immediate experience, statements like “I know that I feel pain,” which raise
problems of their own. In cases of this sort it may be argued that the question
how one knows does not arise. But even when it clearly does arise, it may not find
an answer. Suppose that someone were consistently successful in predicting
events of a certain kind, events, let us say, which are not ordinarily thought to be
predictable, like the results of a lottery. If his run of successes were sufficiently
impressive, we might very well come to say that he knew which number would
win, even though he did not reach this conclusion by any rational method, or
indeed by any method at all. We might say that he knew it by intuition, but this
would be to assert no more than that he did know it but that we could not say
how. In the same way, if someone were consistently successful in reading the
minds of others without having any of the usual sort of evidence, we might say
that he knew these things telepathically. But in default of any further explanation
this would come down to saying merely that he did know them, but not by any
ordinary means. Words like “intuition” and “telepathy” are brought in just to
disguise the fact that no explanation has been found.
But if we allow this sort of knowledge to be even theoretically possible, what
becomes of the distinction between knowledge and true belief? How does our
man who knows what the results of the lottery will be differ from one who only
makes a series of lucky guesses? The answer is that, so far as the man himself is
concerned, there need not be any difference. His procedure and his state of mind,
when he is said to know what will happen, may be exactly the same as when it is
said that he is only guessing. The difference is that to say that he knows is to
concede to him the right to be sure, while to say that he is only guessing is to
withhold it. Whether we make this concession will depend upon the view which
we take of his performance. Normally we do not say that people know things
unless they have followed one of the accredited routes to knowledge. If someone
reaches a true conclusion without appearing to have any adequate basis for it, we
are likely to say that he does not really know it. But if he were repeatedly success-
ful in a given domain, we might very well come to say that he knew the facts in
question, even though we could not explain how he knew them. We should grant
him the right to be sure, simply on the basis of his success. This is, indeed, a point
on which people’s views might be expected to differ. Not everyone would regard
a successful run of predictions, however long sustained, as being by itself a suf-
ficient backing for a claim to knowledge. And here there can be no question of
441
A.J. AYER
proving that this attitude is mistaken. Where there are recognized criteria for
deciding when one has the right to be sure, anyone who insists that their being
satisfied is still not enough for knowledge may be accused, for what the charge is
worth, of misusing the verb “to know.” But it is possible to find, or at any rate to
devise, examples which are not covered in this respect by any established rule of
usage. Whether they are to count as instances of knowledge is then a question
which we are left free to decide.
It does not, however, matter very greatly which decision we take. The main
problem is to state and assess the grounds on which these claims to knowledge
are made, to settle, as it were, the candidate’s marks. It is a relatively unimportant
question what titles we then bestow upon them. So long as we agree about the
marking, it is of no great consequence where we draw the line between pass and
failure, or between the different levels of distinction. If we choose to set a very
high standard, we may find ourselves committed to saying that some of what
ordinarily passes for knowledge ought rather to be described as probable opin-
ion. And some critics will then take us to task for flouting ordinary usage. But the
question is purely one of terminology. It is to be decided, if at all, on grounds of
practical convenience.
One must not confuse this case, where the markings are agreed upon, and
what is in dispute is only the bestowal of honours, with the case where it is the
markings themselves that are put in question. For this second case is philosophic-
ally important, in a way in which the other is not. The sceptic who asserts that we
do not know all that we think we know, or even perhaps that we do not strictly
know anything at all, is not suggesting that we are mistaken when we conclude
that the recognized criteria for knowing have been satisfied. Nor is he primarily
concerned with getting us to revise our usage of the verb “to know,” any more
than one who challenges our standards of value is trying to make us revise our
usage of the word “good.” The disagreement is about the application of the
word, rather than its meaning. What the sceptic contends is that our markings are
too high; that the grounds on which we are normally ready to concede the right
to be sure are worth less than we think; he may even go so far as to say that they
are not worth anything at all. The attack is directed, not against the way in which
we apply our standards of proof, but against these standards themselves. It has,
as we shall see, to be taken seriously because of the arguments by which it is
supported.
I conclude then that the necessary and sufficient conditions for knowing that
something is the case are first that what one is said to know be true, secondly that
one be sure of it, and thirdly that one should have the right to be sure. This right
may be earned in various ways; but even if one could give a complete description
of them it would be a mistake to try to build it into the definition of knowledge,
just as it would be a mistake to try to incorporate our actual standards of good-
ness into a definition of good. And this being so, it turns out that the questions
which philosophers raise about the possibility of knowledge are not all to be
settled by discovering what knowledge is. For many of them reappear as
questions about the legitimacy of the title to be sure. They need to be severally
examined; and this is the main concern of what is called the theory of knowledge.

442