Cognitive Science 32 (2008) 335

C 2008 Cognitive Science Society, Inc. All rights reserved.

Copyright

ISSN: 0364-0213 print / 1551-6709 online
DOI: 10.1080/03640210701801917

The Step to Rationality: The Efficacy of Thought

Experiments in Science, Ethics, and Free Will
Roger N. Shepard
Department of Psychology, Stanford University, and The Arizona Senior Academy

Abstract
Examples from Archimedes, Galileo, Newton, Einstein, and others suggest that fundamental laws of
physics wereor, at least, could have beendiscovered by experiments performed not in the physical
world but only in the mind. Although problematic for a strict empiricist, the evolutionary emergence
in humans of deeply internalized implicit knowledge of abstract principles of transformation and
symmetry may have been crucial for humankinds step to rationalityincluding the discovery of
universal principles of mathematics, physics, ethics, and an account of free will that is compatible with
determinism.
Keywords: Thought experiments; Physical laws; Imagined transformations; Mental rotation; Symmetry;
Rationality; Moral laws; The Golden Rule; Determinism; Agency; Free will

1. The problem
Thought experiments are widely reported to have played a prominent role in the discoveries
of physical laws. I begin by describing some specific thought experiments, similar to those
that wereor, at least, may have beencarried out by Archimedes, Galileo, Newton, and
Einstein and that appear to be sufficient to establish fundamental laws of physics, without
carrying out any of these experiments physically. How is this possible? Where does such
knowledge originate if not, as supposed by strict empiricists, from each individuals own
direct interactions with the physical world?
The answer I propose grew out of my evolutionary perspective together with my cognitive
psychological researches on mental transformations (Shepard & Cooper, 1982; Shepard &
Metzler, 1971) and on generalization (Shepard, 1987; also see the related far-reaching developments subsequently achieved by Tenenbaum and otherse.g., Chater & Vitanyi, 2003;
Feldman, 2000; Tenenbaum & Griffiths, 2001a, 2001b). Here, however, I focus primarily on
Correspondence should be addressed to Roger N. Shepard, 13805 E. Langtry Lane, Tucson, AZ 85747. E-mail:
[email protected]

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

the role of mental transformations and an associated symmetry principle of invariance under
transformation.
I then venture to suggest how the same approach may be extendable, beyond the discovery
of scientific laws, to shed light on the discovery of universal moral principles and to afford an
account of free will that is compatible with determinism. I shall argue that the emergence in
humans of the cognitive capabilities of discovering universal laws of science and principles
of ethics, and of exercising free will are manifestation of a terrestrially unprecedented (if only
partially achieved) step to rationality. A crucial component of all three of these cognitive
capabilities is the ability to disengage from immediate self-interest and to imagine and to
evaluate alternative events or actions with respect to explicitly represented criteria. I invite
those engaged in cognitive modeling to think about how the kinds of abstract representational
processes and symmetry principles I invoke here might be explicitly implemented in more
concrete, detailed and even neuro-physiologically plausible ways.

2. Empirical science and mathematics

Traditionally, a sharp distinction is maintained between the empirical sciences, on one
hand, and mathematics and logic, on the other. Observations, measurements, and experiments
on physical objects and phenomena are generally considered to be essential for the advancement of the empirical sciences. In contrast, mathematics is supposed to be concerned with
what propositions are logically entailed by other propositions, regardless of whether these
propositions correspond to anything in the physical world.
Also, in physics what are taken to be the elementary or primitive objects are always provisional and subject to later reconceptualizationusually in terms of still more elemental entities. Thus, water, directly experienced as a continuous fluid, may be successively reconceived
as composed of more fundamental entities: discrete molecules, then atoms, then electrons and
protons, then quarks, and then perhaps modes of vibration in a convoluted high-dimensional
manifoldwith no definite end in sight.
However, in mathematics the elementary or primitive objects are specified by the mathematician rather than by nature. Such objects as the integers of arithmetic or number theory
or the points and lines of geometry are themselves completely transparent from the outset.
Ordinarily, we do not suppose that a point or a line or that an integer such as 1, 2, or 3 (setting
aside Freges and Russells abstract, set-theory of natural numbers) will be found to be composed of some previously unsuspected more elemental components. Instead, the advances yet
to be made in number theory or in geometry are expected to concern what relations among
such elementary numbers or points and lines will be found to be entailed by whatever axioms
we have formulated for number theory or geometry.
Nevertheless, mathematics and physics are alike in that we aspire, in both cases, to a
consistent theoretical system of basic assumptions and derivable implications. But whereas
in physics such a system is valued to the extent that it provides the simplest explanation or
prediction of the widest range of what we observe or measure in the physical world, in pure
mathematics the system may be valued for its own simplicity, elegance, symmetry, or beauty
independently of the extent to which it corresponds to what we observe or measure in the

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

physical world. Nevertheless, results of pure mathematics that were originally valued for their
intrinsic beauty are often later found to be most useful or even crucial for the development
of physical theory. Notable examples include the non-Euclidean geometries of Minkowski
and of Riemann for special and general relativity; the complex numbers, matrix algebra, and
infinite-dimensional Hilbert spaces for quantum theory; and the theory of groups for both
relativity and quantum mechanics.
Moreover, the explicit formalizations of the laws of physics and of mathematics are, alike,
creations of the human mind. Absent a comprehending mind, such equations would not exist
and, even if by chance they did, they would exist only as meaningless configurations of
physical matter. How do we humans come to formulate, to comprehend, and to evaluate the
formalizations of mathematical and physical laws? When we try to do this for ourselves, we
may find that the cognitive processes in the cases of physics and mathematics are often more
similar than the traditional distinction between mathematical and the empirical sciences would
suggest. To illustrate, I now present simple examples, first, from mathematics (specifically,
geometry) and, then, from physics (primarily, mechanics).

3. Pythagorass theorem for right triangles

The Pythagorean theorem relates the length of the hypotenuse (c) of a right triangle to the
lengths of its two other sides (a & b) by the equation (a2 + b2 = c2 ). It is surely a theorem of
mathematics. It may not hold exactly in the physical world. Long before Einstein, it clearly
did not hold for large triangles on the spherical surface of the earth. (The equilateral spherical
triangle formed by traveling due south from the North Pole to the equator then due east one
quarter of the way around the equator and then due north back to the North Pole is in clear
violation the Pythagorean theorem. Each pair of the three equal legs of this triangular journey
forms a right angle.) Now, according to Einsteins general theory of relativity, the Pythagorean
theorem does not exactly hold more generally for triangles in three-dimensional physical space,
more or less curved as that space is in the vicinity of massive bodies. Nevertheless, according
to pure geometry, it does precisely hold for triangles in a flat plane. How can we convince
ourselves of this latter, mathematical fact?
There have been numerous intuitive demonstrations of the validity of the Pythagorean
theorem. Fig. 1 illustrates one attributed to Pythagoras himself. A right triangle (with its 2
sides of arbitrary lengths a and b and hypotenuse of corresponding length c, as shown in A) is
imagined to be replicated three times, yielding the identical copies (labeled 1, 2, and 3)
each rigidly rotated and/or flipped to fit within a square with sides of length a + b (as shown in
B). One can immediately see that the two empty portions of that square (displayed as shaded
in C) are both square and that one necessarily has area a2 and the other necessarily has area b2 .
Now the four identical triangles are imagined to be rigidly translated and rotated within the
same square to fit into the four corners of the square as illustrated in D. With this rearrangement
of the four identical triangles within the same square, the remaining, empty portion of the
square (again shaded, as shown in D) is immediately seen to be a tipped quadrilateral whose
sides are each of length c (the length of the hypotenuse of the original triangle). Because
the whole configuration (in D) is obviously invariant under 90 rotations, all angles of the

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

Fig. 1. A proof of the Pythagorean theorem.

tipped quadrilateral must be identical and, hence, this quadrilateral is a square. Because its
sides are of length c, the area of this square is c2 . Whatever area within the original larger
square containing the four triangles is not occupied by those triangles must be invariant under
non-overlapping rearrangements of those triangles within that larger square. Hence the sum
of the areas of the two square shaded areas in C (i.e., a2 + b2 ) must equal the area of the single
shaded larger rotated square in D (i.e., c2 ), Q.E.D.
Fig. 2 illustrates another, quite different and in some ways simpler demonstration. (First
brought to my attention by Douglas Hofstadter, personal communication.) As indicated in the
figure, the Pythagorean theorem (a2 + b2 = c2 ) is equivalent to the statement that the sum of
the areas of the squares constructed on the two shorter sides of the triangle equals the area of
the larger, tilted square constructed on the hypotenuse.
Again, the truth of the theorem can be confirmed by imagining a few simple operations.
First, imagine a straight line constructed orthogonal to the hypotenuse and passing through the
opposite vertex (as indicated in the figure by the dotted segment that thus divides the original
triangle into the two areas labeled A and B). Second, imagine each constructed square
(of area a2 , b2 , or c2 ) and its adjacent triangle (of area A, B, or A + B) rigidly rotated (and
also flipped in the case of the largest square-plus-triangle) as a rigid unit to yield the three
house-shaped objects lined up across the bottom of the figure. Third, from a consideration of
the complementary angles of the original triangle, confirm that the three triangles at the tops
of the three squares (lined up below that), of areas A, B, and A + B, are necessarily identical
in shape. Finally, from this identity of shape, reach the conclusion for the proportional areas
of the squares that a2 + b2 = c2 (QED).
I suggest that the operations imagined in these two proofs of the Pythagorean theorem
are of essentially the kind that my students and I investigated in our studies of imagined

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

Fig. 2. An alternative proof of the Pythagorean theorem.

transformations, including mental rotation and apparent motion (Shepard & Cooper, 1982;
Shepard & Metzler, 1971). Also crucial, here, is the realization that shape and size are invariant under these rigid transformations of translation, rotation, and horizontal flipping (which
is just a rotation in depth). I have suggested, too, that the visual salience of symmetries
arises from the implicit recognition that an object is invariant under these transformations of
reflection, translation, rotation, or, more generally, screw displacement in three-dimensional
space (as in the 4 illustrative examples displayed in Fig. 3). Such invariance under transformation also applies to the case of the mere exchange or permutation of identical objects,
which will figure prominently in some of the ensuing examples (both from physics and from
meta-ethics).

4. Archimedess law of the lever

Unlike the theorem of Pythagoras, which belongs to pure mathematics, Archimedes law of
the lever appears to be a law of physics. It can be stated as follows: Physical objects placed
along a beam resting on a central fulcrum will balance if and only if the sum of the products
of the weights and their distances from the fulcrum is equal for the objects on the left and
for the objects on the right of the fulcrum. Archimedes may have verified this law by placing
actual physical objects on actual physical balance beams. But he need not have done so. He
may very well have seen that this law must hold by thought experiments and the principle of
symmetry, as I illustrate in A through E of Fig. 4.

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

Fig. 3. Symmetry as invariance under transformation.

If he had imagined the situation shown in A, Archimedes would immediately have seen by
symmetry that the four identical weights must balance. Because the weights are identical, any
permutation of them must leave the situation unchanged, with no reason for one side or the
other to tilt down. Now imagine that without altering the weight of any part of the beam itself,
it is modified to have a secondary fulcrum as shown in B. If the four identical weights are now
placed as illustrated in C, everything will still balance as it did in A. Moreover, this remains
true for any placement of the two weights on the secondary Beam 2 that is symmetrical around
that secondary fulcrum. For any such symmetrical placement, the combined weight of those
two objects is communicated to the primary beam, as before, at the location of that secondary
fulcrum. Each of the cases exhibited (C, D, & E) thus satisfies Archimedess condition. As
shown by the equation over each case, the negative sum of the products on the left of the
fulcrum cancels the positive sum of the products on the right.
More generally, beginning with any distribution of any number of weights along a beam,
we can use the same symmetry principle to confirm the following: First, we note (from the
preceding) that whether Archimedess condition holds or not (i.e., whether the beam balances
or not), the fact of its balance or imbalance is preserved under any transformation of moving
any two weights together at the midpoint between them. Second, as illustrated for a particular,
arbitrary distribution of identical weights in Fig. 5, iteration of such transformations converges

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

Fig. 4. Thought experiment leading to Archimedess law of the lever.

toward the situation in which all the weights are located at Archimedess centroid of the original
distribution. At every stage of this process, the centroid will be at the fulcrum if and only if
Archimedess condition holds and, hence, the beam balancesas it surely will if at the end
all the weights are stacked directly over the fulcrum (as at the bottom of the figure).
Thus, are we able to verify Archimedes law, without ever placing any actual weights on
any actual beam. What appeared to be an empirical fact about the physical world turns out
to be entailed by an abstract, mathematical principle of invariance under transformationor,
equivalently, of symmetry. We are able to verify the truth of this law of physics by thought

10

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

Fig. 5. Confirmation of Archimedess law for an arbitrary distribution of weights.

alone, much as we did in the case of Pythagorass mathematical law concerning right triangles.
In both cases the laws are universal under the conditions specified. The law of Pythagoras is
universal, as we saw, only for right triangles in a flat plane. Likewise, the law of Archimedes
is universal only for weights distributed on a beam that is rigid and balanced on the fulcrum
prior to the weights being placed upon it.

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

11

After choosing the mathematical example of Pythagoras and the physical example of
Archimedes, I noticed a striking connection between them: Imagine that you wish to verify
that three long physical rods of the same uniform diameter and rigid material would form a
right triangle. But (a) the long narrow room in which you must do this is not wide enough to
accommodate the triangle itself and (b) no ruler or measuring tape is available. I leave it as
an exercise for the reader to use Archimedess law to verify the following statement: If a long
(unmarked) beam and fulcrum are available, and the two shorter bars are laid side-by-side on
one side of the beam extending from the fulcrum and the longest bar is laid on the other side
extending from the fulcrum (as illustrated in Fig. 6), then if a triangle were formed by the
three bars, it would be a right triangle if and only if the bars on the beam achieve a balance.

5. Galileos law of falling bodies

Perhaps the most thoroughly analyzed thought experiment of all time is the one Galileo used
to refute the claim attributed to Aristotle that falling bodies drop with speeds proportional to
their weights (see Gendler, 1998). Presumably, Aristotle did not reach an erroneous conclusion
by performing an actual experiment. If he reached it from a thought experiment, it evidently
was one to which he did not devote enough thought. Possibly by imagining the hefting of a
light object in one hand and a heavy object in the other hand he was led to the hasty conclusion
that if the objects were released, the greater downward force he felt from the heavier object
would manifest itself as a faster descent on the release of that object. But such a conclusion
ignores inertiasomething that Artistotle might have realized before Galileo if he had also
thought about the greater force needed to accelerate a more massive object to the same speed
as a lighter object (e.g., if both objects were resting on the slippery surface of a frozen pond).
Galileos thought experiment was conclusive. It yielded the correct conclusion: The speed
of descent is independent of the weight of the object (to the extent that air resistance is
negligible). This implies that the greater downward force that Aristotle imagined he would
feel from the heavier object is in fact exactly the force needed to accelerate the more massive
object to the very same speed. I shall describe a thought experiment that is slightly different
from the one actually offered by Galileo but that is, I believe, equally conclusive and more
revealing of the relevance of the principle of symmetry.
I imagine Galileo imagining himself at the top of the leaning tower at Pisa with three
identical bricks. By the symmetry principle of invariance under permutation of identical
objects, if the three bricks were dropped together, they should reach the ground at the same
time. As in the case of Archimedess identical weights equally distant on each side of the

Fig. 6. A correspondence between the laws of Archimedes and Pythagoras.

12

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

fulcrum, there is no reason for one to descend more than another. Now suppose two of these
three bricks are glued together to form a single, twice-as-heavy brick. Surely, the virtually
weightless film of glue used to make the two bricks into one would not cause that now heavier
brick to fall twice as rapidly as the separate, third brick. Once again, the correct conclusion is
reached without having to perform an actual experiment.

6. Newtons law of action and reaction

Newtons inspiration for his universal law of gravitation is sometimes attributed to a thought
experiment in which he imagined throwing an apple (according to legend, one that dropped
on him from a tree under which he was sitting in an orchard). Newton would have realized
that if he threw the apple with greater and greater force, the apple would fall to ground at
a greater and greater distance from him. Knowing that the earth is a sphere, he would have
concluded that if he were able to throw the apple with sufficient force, it would fall not to earth
but around the earth. He might then conjecture that the moon was hurling with such speed as
to be similarly ever falling around the earth.
I now consider, instead, a different thought experiment from which Newton might have
arrived at his Third Law of Motionthe law that every action has an equal and opposite
reaction. I focus on this law for two reasons: First, of his three laws of motion, this is the one
that was most original with Newton. Second, this thought experiment derives in a particularly
simple and transparent way from the principle of symmetry.
I imagine Newton imagining himself arched over the water with his feet on the gunwale of
his boat and his hands on the gunwale of another boat of the same size that he is endeavoring to
push away from his boat. From the obvious symmetry of the situation, Newton would realize
that there is no way that he can push the other boat away from his without equally pushing his
boat away from the other. He might also go on to realize that if he were stranded in the middle
of a lake with an oar-less boat loaded, say, with apples, he could propel himself back toward
shore by hurling the apples, one by one, to the rear with great force (just as space vehicles now
accelerate through empty space by ejecting molecules of the gaseous products of combustion
rearward at extremely high velocity).

7. Einsteins theory of relativity

Einstein, like Galileo, was a master of the thought experiment. He arrived at special relativity
through thought experiments about how the same events would be experienced by observers
in different states of motion. Galileo had asserted that events on a ship would appear the same
to shipboard observers whether the ship were at rest or under full sail. In either case, he said,
an iron ball dropped from the top of the mast would appear to drop straight down relative to
the ship, and not (as some had supposed) further back on the deck if the ship were moving
swiftly forward.
Einstein proposed that the same principle should continue to apply even if the velocity of
the vessel were to approach the speed of light. Fig. 7 illustrates a relevant thought experiment

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

13

Fig. 7. Einsteins thought experiment leading to the invariance of the speed of light.

in which Galileos ship is replaced by a train, and Galileos dropping ball is replaced by
light signals propagating between passengers. (As indicated, the vertical axis represents time
and the horizontal axis represents location in space.) A passenger in the middle of the train,
B, is imagined to flash a light, which propagates both backward and forward. If the train
is stationary (as shown at the top), the light should reach equidistant rear and the forward
passengers (A and C) at the same time, hence at spacetime locations A and C . If, instead,
the train were moving forward at an appreciable fraction of the speed of light (as illustrated at
the bottomwhere c is the velocity of light), the arrival of the signals at the equidistant rear
and forward passengers could still be simultaneousbut only if the spacetime coordinates
are subjected to the Lorenz transformation indicated by the large curving arrows. Such a
transformation achieves the result that what is observed within a moving carrier of any kind
is the same regardless of the velocity of that carrier. It also achieves the remarkable results
(a) that the measured velocity of light is invariant for all observers regardless of their relative
motions and (b) that nothing can be moved at a velocity that exceeds the velocity of light.
Einsteins general theory of relativity brings us back to my earlier theme of falling bodies.
Einstein imagines himself inside an elevator that is in free fall (e.g., with severed supporting
cable). Floating weightlessly in the falling elevator (like an astronaut in a vehicle free-falling
around the earth), Einstein would experience no gravitational force. Because no force is acting
within the elevator, a beam of light passing through the elevator would surely traverse a straight
line. In the absence of gravitational force within the elevator, the symmetry between up and
down removes any reason for the light to curve either upward or downward.

14

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

Next Einstein imagines that he is, instead, an external observer standing on a stationary
platform. He would now feel the force of gravity holding him down on the platform while
the elevator accelerates by, thus breaking the symmetry between up and down. Clearly, a light
beam that traverses a straight line relative to the observer in the accelerating elevator must
traverse a downward curving (locally, parabolic) path to the stationary observer. That observer
will thus attribute both his own experience of pressing down on the platform and the downward
bending of the path of the light to the gravitational attraction of the massive earth. (It was
the empirical confirmation of Einsteins claim that light is bent in passing a massive body
obtained during Eddingtons expedition to measure such a deflection of starlight passing near
the sun during a solar eclipsethat first brought Einstein instant and lasting celebrity around
the world.)
In his general theory of relativity Einstein dispensed with the Newtonian idea that massive
bodies attract each other by a gravitational force that somehow acts across empty Euclidean
space (an idea that Newton found necessary, but also troubling). Instead, Einstein proposed
that massive bodies warp the neighboring spacetime continuum itself in such a way that all
other bodies simply traverse the straightest possible (i.e., geodesic) paths in this warped fourdimensional manifold. A rough intuitive idea of the difference between the Newtonian and the
Einsteinian theories of gravitation can be gained by considering simplified two-dimensional
diagrams with (again) time and space respectively represented vertically and horizontally.
Diagram A in Fig. 8 represents the Newtonian picture in which a planetoid (of very small
mass) is attracted to a massive star by that stars force of gravitation. In accordance with
Newtons inverse-square law, the force of attraction (represented by the horizontal component
of each vector along the path of the planetoid) increases as the planetoid approaches the
star, yielding its parabolic free-fall into the star, as depicted. This picture would in no way
be changed if represented with an (extrinsic) cylindrical curvature as shown in B. Now,
however, in accordance with the local stretching of the fabric of spacetime by the presence of
the massive stars world line, this (extrinsically curved) spacetime manifold can be considered
to take on an intrinsic negative curvature as depicted in C. There is now no need to invoke a
force of gravity. Rather, the world line of the planetoid simply takes the straightest possible
form in the spacetime continuum, warped as it is in the vicinity of the world line of the
massive star.
Einsteins special and general theories of relativity thus provide elegant mathematical
formulations of the symmetries of invariance under transformations between observers that are
moving relative to each othereither uniformly as in the special theory or in acceleration as in
the general theory. Yet Einstein developed these revolutionary theories neither by performing
physical experiments nor by studying empirical data collected by others. He developed them
by mentally carrying out his own thought experiments.

8. Empiricists versus rationalists on the efficacy of thought experiments

Here, I have considered just a few readily understood examples illustrating the effectiveness
of thought experiments and symmetry principles in the discovery of physical laws. Elsewhere,
I have discussed other, somewhat more complex examplesconcerning the discovery of laws

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

15

Fig. 8. Newtonian versus Einsteinian conceptions of gravitation.

of electromagnetism and the propagation of light (by Maxwell); laws of thermodynamics,

statistical mechanics, and entropy (by Carnot, Clausius, and Boltzmann); laws of quantum
mechanics (by Planck, Einstein, Bohr, Schrodinger, Heisenberg, Feynman, and others); and
even (going beyond physics), principles of evolutionary biology (by Darwin). (See Shepard,
2001, 2003, for a few of the examples that I presented more fully at Harvard in my 1994
William James Lectures, Mind and World.)
Still, deeply entrenched empiricist presuppositions motivate many to suggest that so-called
thought experiments may either be re-imaginings the scientists own actual interactions with
the world or else be disguised versions of deductive arguments from already accepted premises.

16

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

The first possibility is surely implausible in cases like that of Einstein, who never traveled
at anything like the speed of light or made observations from inside or outside a free-falling
elevator. And the claim that thought experiments must be reducible to deductive arguments
has been effectively countered by Gendler (1998, 2004).
The dismissive stances taken toward thought experiments by strict empiricists may be motivated by their implicit blank-slate conception of the human mind. But such a conception
has long been rendered untenable (a) by empirical evidence from evolutionary, developmental,
linguistic, cognitive and brain sciences, which has established beyond any doubt that individuals come into the world already adapted to some important features of the world in which they
must make their ways; and (b) by machine learning theory, which has provided conclusive
mathematical proofs that there can in fact be no effective learning in the absence of principles
of learning and generalization appropriate to the kind of world in which that learning or
generalization is to occur. (For some relevant references concerning machine learning theory,
see, e.g., Shepard, 2001, p. 712.)
Skepticism about the effectiveness of thought experiments may also stem from a mistaken
notion that any such effectiveness requires that we be innately endowed with explicit knowledge of specific facts and laws of nature. My claim is, rather, that the knowledge that natural
selection has provided is, first, only implicit; second, typically of the most abstract and invariant features of our world. Some of these features are ones that we consider to be physical in
naturesuch as that space is three-dimensional and locally Euclidean (hence affording just
6 degrees of freedom of rigid motion). Other features may be even more abstract, mathematical principles, such as those of invariance under transformation and symmetry (Shepard,
1994, 2001). The value that Einstein placed on symmetry is attested by the symmetries he
discoveredincluding the symmetries between relatively moving observers, between gravitation and acceleration, between matter and energy, and also between electric and magnetic
fields (which, for brevity, I have not considered here).
The major developments in theoretical physics can be understood as the construction of
ever more general and internally consistent theories each of which subsumes preceding, more
restricted theories as special cases (as diagrammed in Fig. 9). If asked why a law in any one of
the theories in this hierarchy takes the particular form that it does, we may be able to explain
that its form is dictated by constraints at the next higher level. Thus, Newtonian gravitational
force falls off as the distance between massive bodies raised specifically to the power 2.0
(rather than to some other power such as 1.6 or 2.3) because the power 2 arises as a
geometrical necessity from Einsteins replacement of the idea of a gravitational force acting
across empty Euclidean space by the idea of bodies merely tracing geodesic paths in a warped
four-dimensional spacetime continuum. But, clearly, a theory that is currently at the very top
of the hierarchy has no higher level theory to explain the form of its laws.
A noteworthy fact about the currently most general and successful theories of the physical
world, namely, general relativity and quantum mechanics, seems to be insufficiently appreciated by strict empiricists. Each of these theories possesses such elegance and tight internal
constraints of consistency and symmetry that it is extremely difficult to find any minor changes
that can be made to either theory without disrupting its whole structure. In retrospect, it almost seems that if we had only been smart enough, we could have seen that each theory could
not be otherwise. Yet, despite their enormous successes, these two theories are known to be

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

17

Fig. 9. Hierarchy of the theories of physics.

inconsistent with each other (as I have metaphorically depicted in my drawing reproduced in
Fig. 10). Hence, the discovery of a still more general theory that consistently subsumes both
of them as limiting cases would be a towering achievement comparable to the discovery of
each of the two component theories themselveswithout having collected a single additional
empirical datum.
If there is such a thing as a final theory of everything (or, at least, of everything physical)
we may still wonder why its laws take the particular form that they do. Three possible answers
occur to me. The first is that the form of these laws is simply an arbitrary brute fact; there is no
reason why they are this way rather than some other. The second is that these laws form the
only mathematically possible self-consistent set. And the third is that the universe in which we
reside is only one of infinitely many, and that the entire ensemble includes universes with laws
of every mathematically possible form. The first of these alternatives seems to be implicitly
presupposed by strict empiricists and the second by pure rationalists. The third possibility
falls somewhere between. For, in accordance with the anthropic cosmological principle, the
laws governing our universe are then constrainedperhaps quite tightlyby the requirement
that they make possible the evolution of intelligent life and, hence eventually, the emergence
of theorists capable of reasoning from abstract principles such as that of symmetry.
Incidentally, with regard to the most rationalistic, second alternative just mentioned, one
might ask: If physical laws are ultimately determined by mathematical necessity, what be-

18

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

Fig. 10. The incompatibility between general relativity and quantum mechanics.

comes of the traditional distinction between empirical science and mathematics? One possible
answer is that it may be only in our present state of relative ignoranceboth about mathematical necessity and about physical realitythat we feel the need for such a distinction. Possibly,
if we were to gain a sufficiently deep understanding both of mathematics and of physics we
might begin to see (with Leibniz & Spinoza) how the same necessity governs both. In the
meantime, these two realms will retain their respectively more empirical versus purely rational
charactersincluding (as noted at the outset) the incompletely known, provisional nature of
the currently hypothesized elemental constituents of physical theory as opposed to the completely characterized, transparent constituents of mathematics. At the same time, I confess
that, at least for me, the question raised here tends to favor the third, many-universes alternative (together with its anthropic cosmological principle) over the second, purely rationalist
alternative.

9. The principle of least action

Whatever theory is finally deemed to subsume both general relativity and quantum mechanics (and, hence, all the other lower level theories included in the hierarchy depicted in the
earlier Fig. 9) will presumably include as one of its most fundamental principles, the principle
of least actiona principle that is consistent both with general relativity (as established by
the mathematician David Hilbert) and with quantum mechanics (as established by the theoretical physicist Richard Feynman). Toward the end of his life, von Helmholtz (1886) had
already judged it highly probable that the least-action principle governs all processes in
nature, and Planck (1925/1993), who introduced the cornerstone of quantum mechanics with
his quantum-of-action, characterized that principle as occupying the highest position among
physical laws (p. 80). The relevance of the principle of least action, here, is that symmetry

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

19

plays a significant role in that principle as well as in the thought experiments that led to the
formulations of that principle and of its early precursors.
In physics, action has the units of a product of energy and time. The original formulators
of the idea that every process in nature is such as to minimize this action were Maupertuis
(16901759) and (perhaps not independently of Maupertuis) Leibniz (17071783). The first
to give it a correct mathematical formulation was Euler (17861818).
The earliest precursors of the principle of least action were formulated as principles just of
least time. Fig. 11 illustrates the kind of thought experiment that Hero of Alexandria (c. 125
BCE), who proposed that to minimize time, an object strives to move over the shortest possible
distance, may have used to establish the equal-angle law of the reflection of light. Consider a
farmer who must carry an empty bucket from his house to a stream to fill it with water and
then must carry the filled bucket to the animals in his barn, at some distance from his house.
What is the farmers shortest and, hence, least-time (as well, in this case, as least-energy)
path to complete this task? As illustrated at the top of the figure, if one imagines a virtual
barn located across the stream by the symmetry of reflection around the proximal edge of
the stream, it is clear that the shortest path would be a straight-line path from the location of
the farmer to the location of the virtual barn. But, if this path is re-reflected back to the actual
barn, the angles of approach to the stream and departure from it must be equal, as shown.
Now, as illustrated at the bottom of the figure, the situation of viewing an object reflected in a
mirror is quite analogous. Thus, the least-time path of reflected light makes equal angles with
the surface of a mirror.
The great (amateur) mathematician Pierre de Fermat (16011665) may have employed a
similar thought experiment to arrive at the law of refraction: In passing through different
media, light takes the path that minimizes its time of transit. Fig. 12 depicts an analogous
situation: that of a lifeguard who, on sighting a drowning swimmer, strives to take the leasttime path to that swimmer. Here, the straight-line path (A) is not the quickest. Because the

Fig. 11. Thought experiment leading to Heros least-time law of reflection.

20

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

Fig. 12. Thought experiment leading to Fermats least-time law of refraction.

lifeguard can run across the sand faster than swim through the water, the quickest path to the
swimmer goes farther over the sand in order to travel less far through the more resistant water
(Path B, which accordingly must bend at the waters edge). The water is here analogous to
a medium through which light travels more slowly. By supposing light waves to be slowed
and thus compressed in passing into a denser medium, Fermat anticipated Snells law that the
ratio of the sin of the angle of incidence to the sin of the angle of refraction equals the ratio of
the index of refraction of the second medium to the index of refraction of the first.
The more general least-action principle in which not just time but the product of time and
energy are minimized, as proposed by Maupertuis and successively refined and generalized by
the mathematicians Euler, Lagrange, and Hamilton, attained its culmination with Feynmans
path-integral formulation, which applies to all quantum, as well as classical, systems (Feynman
& Hibbs, 1965). Here, the ideas of Galileo and Einstein that the laws of nature are independent
of the location, orientation, and state of uniform motion (or in mathematical terminology, that
these laws are covariant with respect to displacements in space and time) can be seen
as examples of the principle of invariance under transformationthat is, of symmetry. In
Feynmans culminating generalization, the symmetry emerges as the democracy of histories
in which either light or a material particle virtually propagates over all possible paths with
the least-action path emerging through mutual cancellation of competing alternatives (see
Feynman, Leighton, & Sands, 1963, chap. 26).

10. The cognitive capabilities that empower thought experiments and the
step to rationality
It falls to us, as cognitive scientists, to elucidate the mental capabilities that make possible
the discovery of the laws of nature and, as evolutionary psychologists, to suggest how these
capabilities may have arisen through natural selection and individual learning. At the outset
I noted that the ability to imagine identity-preserving transformations may be crucial. I have
proposed that neuronal mechanisms that originally evolved in the service of the perceptual
representation of the external world may have evolved additional capabilities. These may
have included, successively, capabilities (a) for perceptual completion when the sensory input
is brief, degraded, or incomplete; (b) for anticipation of probable ensuing or accompanying
events; and, finally, (c) for the autonomous simulation of possible transformations in the

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

21

sensory absence of such transformations or their objects. Possession of this last capability
would presumably confer significant benefit in planning and problem solving.
The emergence of the ability to construct explicitly articulated consistent theories about this
world, however, presumably required additional developments. The following three may have
been critical for the successful employment of thought experiments and abstract principles
such as that of symmetry for this purpose: (a) a motivation, arising from our evolutionary
branching into what has been termed the cognitive niche, to understand and comprehend
the world; (b) the concomitant emergence of a capacity for holding immediate self interest
in abeyance and for contemplating an explicit set of alternatives objectively with respect to
explicitly chosen abstract criteria; and, of course, (c) the emergence of language, enabling the
explicit communication, preservation, and critical analysis of results.
In considering the emergence of cognitive capabilities sufficient for scientific discovery, I
have focused on emergence through evolution more than through individual learning. Similarly, I have focused on rationality more than on empiricism. This is not to suggest that
learning and empirical observation play no significant roles. Rather, this is partly to counteract
what has seemed to me a prevailing bias in the opposite directions, and partly to call attention
to the logically prior roles of evolution and rationality. As I have mentioned, in the absence
of innate principles of learning and generalization that are already attuned to our world, no
learning will be effective. Likewise, without rational guidance, the mindless accumulation of
raw data yields no scientific law or theory.
In practice, the processes through which an individual learns about the world and through
which science advances depend, alike, on empirical observation and experimentation as well
as on rational thought. In both cases, the resulting system of knowledge is successful (i.e.,
robust, powerful, and cognitively manageable) to the extent that its constituent facts, beliefs,
and principles (a) have become sufficiently entrenched through past success and (b) have
been determined to be consistent with each other. As new information arises from whatever
sources, the system of knowledge or belief evolves through a process (ideally, consistent with
Bayesian principles of inference) of striving toward mutual consistency and preservation of the
systems most securely established, successful constituents. The two cases of scientific theory
and individual belief differ in that the importance of the criteria of explicitness, generality,
internal consistency, and quantitative precision is more uniformly embraced in the realm of
science than in that of everyday individual belief or behavior.
The preceding remarks may help me address two interrelated questions frequently raised
concerning the alleged effectiveness of thought experiments in science: First, does not the
apparent conclusiveness of a given thought experiment depend on the validity of some unstated
assumptions? And second, how is one to decide whether the conclusion of a given thought
experiment is indeed conclusive?
Regarding this first question, I readily acknowledge that every thought experiment (in
mathematics as well as in physics) rests on a number of assumptionsin addition to (or
in support of) the symmetry of invariance under transformationthat may not have been
explicitly stated. The proofs offered for the Pythagorean theorem, assumed that the lines are
straight and lie in a flat Euclidean plane in which any component assemblage of lines can be
rigidly translated and rotated as a unit, preserving straightness, lengths, angles, areas, and so
forth. Likewise, the thought experiment establishing Archimedess law of the lever, assumed

22

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

that the masses of the weights and the rigidity of the balance arm, are conserved over time and
translations or rotations in three-dimensional Euclidean space; and the thought experiment
establishing Galileos law of falling bodies, assumed that the bodies being released are all
of the same material, which (again) is conserved over time and translation in space, and
that gravitation (in the absence of air resistance, electro-magnetic force, etc.) acts uniformly
on this conserved material regardless of how it may be oriented, reshaped, separated, or
fastened together. The validity of any of these background assumptions may of course be
reconsidered in the light of newly obtained evidence or newly detected inconsistencies. But,
to the extent that each such assumption is more securely established or entrenched than
the law discovered through the thought experiment, that law has augmented our scientific
knowledge.
The answer I propose to the second question is already implicit in my answer to the first.
One may provisionally take the conclusion of a thought experiment to be sound to the extent
that all of the stated or unstated assumptionswhen rendered explicitare judged acceptable.
The thought experiment of imagining hefting a heavier and lighter body that I supposed might
have led Aristotle to the wrong conclusion (that the heavier must fall faster than the lighter)
rested on an unstated (and false!) assumption; that is, the (inertia-less) assumption that motion
(strictly, now, the acceleration) of a body is proportional to the force (or, for Aristotle, the
impetus) applied, independent of that bodys mass. Clearly, then, a thought experiment does
have something in common with a deductive argument. But I do not regard the process of
constructing a scientific theory as the deductive erection of a system from categorically posited
axioms. Rather, I regard it as an evolving process in which one continually seeks to render
explicit what has been implicit, and in which all parts of the evolving system are subject
to re-evaluation of their validity and mutual consistency. The process ultimately rests on
assumptions about the uniformity of nature that can never be validated with absolute certainty
but that have become so entrenched through past success that we continue to build upon them
with confidence. There is no rational alternative.
By the step to rationality, as I have termed it (e.g., Shepard, 2001, p. 741), I refer to the
terrestrially unique emergence in humankind of such capabilities as I have been describing
here: (a) to stand back from immediate self interest and to imagine alternative actions or
transformations and their consequences; (b) to appreciate the symmetries of invariance under
such transformations; and thus (c) to develop explicitly formulated principles, laws, or theories
about the world. Also crucial has been the associated advent of an unprecedented motivation
to understand the world. The step to rationality evidently has not yet been uniformly developed
or exercised in the human population. Even among scientists, thinkers such as Archimedes,
Galileo, Newton, and Einstein remain exceptional.
Of course, biological evolution is a gradual process, taking countless generations to manifest
appreciable change, as the continuities of bodily structure and behavior along evolutionary
lines attests. Yet, the step to rationalityhowever incomplete it still remainshas sprung
virtually discontinuously on the evolutionary time scale, presumably from relatively subtle
and inconspicuous changes in the human brain. The uncertain but certainly enormous potential
consequences of this development for the future of our species and our world motivates me to
include, here, a provisional sketch of how the ideas I have been proposing about the cognitive
grounds of science might be extended to illuminate the cognitive grounds of ethics.

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

23

11. The cognitive grounds of moral principles

Philosophers have long used thought experiments to evaluate alternative principles for
moral action. In his A Theory of Justice, Rawls (1971) put forward what might be considered
(even if not by Rawls) a thought experiment. He posed a hypothetical situation in which
those endeavoring to frame rules for the just governance of society are blocked by a veil of
ignorance from knowing what role each framer will have in that society. Such framers would
thus be prevented from favoring rules that would be of special benefit to themselves by virtue
of their accidental, inherited circumstancesfor example, of race, gender, socioeconomic
class, physical appearance, or political power. In terms of the more abstract, mathematical
concepts I have been using, what is sought here is just the symmetry of invariance under
permutation of individuals. Such a symmetry principle is basic to democracy and entails the
Golden Rule, which may well be the candidate moral principle that comes closest to eliciting
universal verbal assent (Wattles, 1996)if not behavioral compliance.
Following Hume (1739/1896, p. 469), I acknowledge that one cannot derive ought from
is. I also understand why most scientists and many philosophers remain skeptical about
the possibility of a universal, objective basis for ethics. But I am not ready to accept the
alternative of a wholly biological/cultural relativism. Those content with such relativism might
still investigate how what a human being in fact does or says is determined by the accidents
of that individuals genetic inheritance and cultural milieu. But the results of such research
could never justify a conviction that human beliefs concerning moral principleseven if
universally evolved or learnedare inherently, ultimately, and absolutely valid, independent of
our anthropocentric standpoint. The meta-ethical objective, here, is not to solve any particular
ethical dilemmas (which, in typical concrete situation, would require careful consideration
of many complex, specific circumstances). Instead, the objective is to seek an ultimate, nonanthropocentric justification for our moral intuitions that prove most deeply entrenched and
secure as we strive for an overall self-consistent system of beliefs.
What I now regard as the best and perhaps only hope for avoiding nihilistic ethical relativism
is to achieve a fully conscious grasp of the implications of the symmetry principle of invariance
under permutation (Shepard, 2001, pp. 744748). Such an abstract principle may seem too
airy to have any significant moral force. Nevertheless, I suggest that just such a principle, at
a deeply entrenched if unconscious level, underlies some of our most primitive and powerful
emotions such, in particular, as the desire for retribution against someone who has broken the
symmetry between him- or herself and another person by the gratuitous infliction of grievous
injury, suffering, or death. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, has, at least, the virtue of
symmetry.
More generally, I take, as the most elemental thought experiment underlying moral intuition, that of imagining oneself in the situation of another. It is from the resulting empathic
understanding that I know, as well as I know anything, that I ought not to abuse, torture, maim,
or murder an innocent person. Moreover, I know this independently of any consideration of
likely consequences for my own future freedom and well-being. For to commit any such
act against another person is to violate not just a symmetry between physical things but to
violate the symmetry between experiencing, teleological agents. It is not merely unaesthetic,
undemocratic, or even wrong. It is, I want to say, evil.

24

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

In short, the abstract principle of symmetry, which is so fundamental to the universal

principle of least action in physics, may be equally basic to a universal principle of best action
in ethics. If so, one (a) who has gained a degree of rationality sufficient to moderate and to
bring into to a more harmonious system the often inconsistent emotions (including jealousy,
greed, hatred, or revenge) that may have contributed to the reproduction and survival of our
distant, pre-rational ancestors; and (b) who directly experiences the value his or her own life,
freedom, and well-being, may come to knowas well as one knows anythingthe binding
force of the essential idea of the Golden Rule. We are left, however, with two daunting issues
concerning exactly how the Golden Rule should be formulated.
One issue concerns the class of beings to which the Golden Rule is supposed to apply. Should
inclusion of a candidate being depend on that beings susceptibility to feelings of pleasure, pain,
and suffering (as advocated by utilitarian philosophers, beginning with Bentham, 1789/1946)?
Or should inclusion depend on that beings rationality (as advocated by Kant, 1785/1964)?
I submit that these two different but overlapping classes of beings must play different roles
in the formulation (Shepard, 2001, pp. 744748). The ones who should be held responsible
for acting in accordance with the Golden Rule are surely the rational ones. The ones who
should be treated (by those rational beings) in accordance with the Golden Rule are primarily
the sentient ones. These include, in addition to the rational ones, the less-than-fully-rational
infants and mentally handicapped, as well as non-human animalsmost of whom are to
some extent susceptible to experiencing pleasure and pain or suffering. In addition, however,
and irrespective of their degree of sentience, some non-rational beings should be treated in
accordance with (an appropriately extended version of) the Golden Ruleto the degree that
they have the potential for becoming rational. The human fetus, although not yet rational
(or perhaps even sentient), obviously has the potential of growing into a rational (as well
as sentient) being. Indeed, any animals, even the most primitive bacteria, have the potential
(e.g., in case all higher forms of terrestrial life were to be wiped out by a cometary impact) of
evolving, in the fullness of time, into rational beings.
The suggestion, here, is that rationality and rational knowledge are good in themselves.
True, we have our own anthropocentric hopes and strivings, and a justifiable belief that
knowledge can contribute to our welfare and survival as human individuals. But we have as
yet no certain knowledge of the ultimate destiny of the cosmos or of consciousness or of the
objective grounds of good and evil. But we also have no hope of gaining any such further
knowledge without the aid of our rationality. If there is any objective good to be known, then,
should not the step to rationality required for knowledge of that good be itself judged as good?
It is, anyway, onto these admittedly tenuous grounds that I might be forced to take my stand
by any skeptic who demands a justification for my belief that the needless destruction of life
is inherently bad.
In any case, the considerations just preceding these eschatological speculations, indicate
that the Golden Rule requires formulation in a way that takes account of degrees of (and even
potential for) both rationality and sentience. In some early versions of the Golden Rule, the
others whom we were enjoined to treat as we wished ourselves to be treated were defined
as our neighbors or our countrymenimplying that all humans are not created equal
and that individuals of foreign origin or appearance, including slaves, are somehow deficient
in rationality or even sentience. Kant and his rationalist followers, including Rawls (1971),

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

25

Gewirth (1978), and perhaps Jefferson (at least as implied in his contribution to the Bill of
Rights), have formulated principles of morality or justice as applying to all humans or (in
Kants writings) to all rational beings. Such formulations implicitly presuppose a sharp and
well-defined boundary between (a) all rational human adults; and (b) the non-rational human
infants, brain-damaged, demented, or psychotic patients, or our pre-homo-sapient ancestors.
Yet, although we may have some abstract conception of an ideal, fully rational being, the step
to rationality has, as I have noted, been only partially achieved.
Even among the most rational thinkers of which we have concrete knowledge there have
been lapses in engagement with the ethical implications of symmetry and consistency. Newton,
in surreptitiously using his high position in the British Royal Society to denigrate both Hookes
already partially correct insight regarding gravitational attraction and Leibnizs independent
invention of the calculus, violated the Golden Rule. And Kant, in his selfish and unsympathetic
response to his long-time manservant Lampes disclosure of his intention to marry, and
in Kants unending disregard of repeated heart-wrenching pleas by his own brother to be
permitted to visit Kant, violated his own (related) categorical imperativeformulated,
alternatively, as (a) always to treat another person as an end and never as a means to an end,
or (b) always to act on that maxim that one can at the same time will to be a universal law
(Kant, 1785/1964).
Nevertheless, a person who aspires to being rational and just must ever endeavor to treat
another person as one would be treated. But, if the concept of symmetry is, as I suggest,
deeply internalized in human beings why do humans so often violate the Golden Rule? Why
are heinous acts of abuse, rape, torture, and murder so prevalent in human societies around the
world? Part of my answer is already implied by my observation that the step to rationality is not
fully or uniformly achieved even in the human race. I believe that the torturers or murderers
non-compliance with the Golden Rule is symptomatic of incompletely achieved internal
consistency (and the associated presence of logic-tight compartments). Such inconsistency
is manifested, for example, by ones (a) who justify murdering a doctor who has performed
an abortion by citing the biblical commandment Thou shalt not kill; (b) who insist on the
sanctity of life while advocating capital punishment; (c) who torture captives on the grounds
that they are a threat to our liberty; and (closest to home) even (d) those who, in the interest of
scientific research, justify the experimental ablation of portions of the brain of a non-consenting
primate on two mutually incompatible grounds: The first is that the use of a primate is needed
because it has the closest biological and behavioral similarity to humans (who are of greatest
interest to us but who have passed human rights laws to protect themselves from such abuse).
The second is that it is permissible to use a primate in this way because such an animal, being
categorically different from humans (in rationality? or in sentience?), has no such rights.
I conclude that the formulation of moral principles based exclusively on sentience or feelings
(as proposed by Bentham, 1789/1946) is too simplistic, and that the particular rational approach
developed by Kant (1785/1964) is too rigidly categorical. A satisfactory formulation of moral
principles, including specifically the Golden Rule, must take explicit account of degrees of
sentience and rationality. In addition, it must take explicit account of more pragmatic, reallife issues of degrees of biological or social relationship, connection, or proximity between
individuals. For brevity, here, I merely mention a few simple examples of things that I suppose
most people would regard as morally justified and that I believe can be rationally reconciled

26

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

with moral principles such as the Golden Rule and even Kants categorical imperativebut
only if those principles are significantly reformulated:
1. Giving priority to providing for ones own young child or other loved one over providing
for some strangereven though that stranger may be as sentient or more rational than
ones own child.
2. Putting on ones own oxygen mask before assisting ones child or seatmate (e.g., on an
aircraft that has lost cabin pressure)even though one should not value ones own life
above that of others.
3. Lying to an armed intruder in order to protect an innocent loved oneeven though this
would be in violation of Kants categorical prohibition against lying under any circumstances.
4. Calling 911 to interrupt a thefteven though if we were in the thiefs full situation (e.g.,
of extreme hunger or drug-induced irrationality), we ourselves might desperately wish not
to be caught.
The necessary reformulation of the Golden Rule admittedly presents daunting challenges.
There is, first, a technical or mathematical challenge. If we give up the convenient fiction that
beings can be categorically classified as either sentient or non-sentient and as either rational
or non-rational, we are no longer afforded the simple elegance of the symmetry of invariance
under permutation of beings within a sharply bounded class. We must now seek a more
complex formulation in which exchangeability is neither all-or-none nor, in general, strictly
symmetric. Further complications arise if we accept the relevance of degrees of relationship,
connection, or proximity between individuals.
Here we encounter a further and still more daunting challenge: How do we establish
quantitative metrics of degrees of class inclusion or degrees of relationship that are robust,
practically implementable, universally valid, and morally justifiable? I see no way forward
without confronting this challenge. Yet, the history of egregiously amoral, discriminatory
abuses by those who claim moral and rational superiority but are, in fact, only more numerous
or better armedas in the crusades; the slave trades; the pogroms; the Nazi holocaust; and
the forced displacements, mistreatments, and massacres of indigenous peoples everywhere
cautions us to proceed with the greatest possible thoughtfulness, care, and checks and balances
as we venture onto these slippery slopes. Nevertheless, in recognition of the terrestrially
unprecedented step to rationality of humankind, however incomplete, I submit that just as all
normal humans have the unique potential for learning a fully expressive natural language, all
normal humans have the latent potential for achieving a rational, self-consistent system of
moral principles.

12. The cognitive grounds of deterministic free will

Any effort to establish the cognitive grounds of meta-ethics would surely be pointless in the absence of an explication of an individuals free will. For individuals who
are not free to make their own moral choices cannot justifiably be held responsible for

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

27

those choices. This consideration has moved me to attempt to reconcile (a) the need
I thus fervently feel for an account of such a freedom of the will with (b) my unshakeable rational conclusion that every event arises deterministically from its causal antecedents except to the extent, if any, that it is affected by mere (e.g., quantum mechanical)
chance.
The reconciliation to which I arrived appears harmonious (as I later discovered) with
reconciliations earlier proposed by Dennett (1984, 2003) and others. (See the recent overview
of compatibilist proposalsespecially the reasons-responsive proposalsin The Stanford
Encyclopedia of Philosophy, McKenna, 2004, which came to my attention too late to be
adequately addressed here.)
My own approach grew more specifically out of consideration of the step to rationality
with its capacity for holding immediate self interest in abeyance and for contemplating an
explicit set of alternatives objectively with respect to explicitly chosen abstract criteria (as
earlier stated in Shepard, 2001, pp. 744748). Invoking symmetry once again, I accordingly
propose that one acts freely when ones actual and alternative actions are symmetrical with
respect to their potential for realization under appropriate circumstances (as I indicate, e.g.,
under Points 2, 5, and 6, below).
Although ones decision process could be strictly determined by preceding events such as
those explicitly introduced in computational modeling, some of those preceding causes are of
a kind that we also call reasons. What is required for ones resulting choice to be free, in the
intended sense, is just ones own knowledge that one has cognitively represented the relevant
set of alternatives, has evaluated or (as necessary) re-evaluated each alternative in that set, and
finally has selected and acted on the alternative with the highest resulting evaluationwithout
interference (of the kinds I consider under Point 2, below). Simply stated, a free choice is one
that has been made for ones own reasons.
Specifically, the evaluation of each alternative might be computed via utility theory, as the
sum of the products of (a) the subjective probability and (b) the subjective value of each of
the possible outcomes considered for that alternative. If so, that mental process can be seen as
directly analogous to a more literal weighing of the alternatives on the Archimedian balance
beam discussed earlier. The locations along the beam might then represent the (positive or
negative) subjective values of the possible outcomes and the masses of the weights their
corresponding subjective probabilities.
Even today there are both philosophers and scientists wholike myself until but a few
years agohave regarded free will and determinism as being inherently incompatible with
each other. Some determinists among these have accordingly proposed that our experience of
free will is merely illusory. But this alternative is unacceptable to me, both because it removes
the essential grounds for moral responsibility and because I do have knowledge (in a sense I
shall try to explain) of my freedom that is as reliable as my knowledge of anything. On the
other side, some libertarians have proposed that we reject determinism. But this alternative
is equally unacceptable to me, because an event undetermined by any antecedents is not
something that has been chosen by a person but something that has happened to that person. It
is, accordingly, not a choice made for that persons own reasons, or for which an assignment
of praise or blame is justifiable. (Quantum mechanics does allow for undetermined events.
But, despite the expressed hopes of some libertarians, even if some choice were determined

28

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

by such a quantum-mechanical event, that event could be considered neither a reason nor a
moral justification for the resulting choice.)
Entire books have been written concerning the possibility of reconciling freedom and
determinism (for references to some of these, see McKenna, 2004). For me, however, the
following seven points seem sufficient:
1. One can represent to oneself the alternative choices in some small, well-defined set and
knowas well as one knows anythingthat one has considered and evaluated each of the
alternatives with respect to the explicitly represented criteria associated with ones current
goal.
Example: The familiar childrens game of tic-tac-toe (or naughts and crosses) serves
as a trivially simple illustration, uncomplicated by the real-world uncertainties to which I
return later. One can systematically consider each of the cells of the 3 3 array that are
still unmarked and evaluate, for each such cell, whether the insertion of ones own mark
(whether x or o) in that cell will complete a (horizontal, vertical, or diagonal) row of
three such marks (thus winning the game), or will block a potential row of three of the
opponents mark (thus forestalling a win by the opponent). Indeed, one can contemplate
the options that would remain for subsequent moves by ones self and by ones opponent,
and thus arrive at a preference value for each empty cell into which one might insert ones
mark. (Moreover, the process can be significantly simplified by considerations, once again,
of symmetry. For, although there are 9 cells to be evaluated in placing the first mark,
equivalence under rotations and reflections of the array leaves only 3 distinguishable cases:
a cell on any of the 4 corners, a cell in the middle of any of the 4 sides, and the one cell in
the center.)
2. One can knowas well as one knows anythingwhether one has, instead, been prevented
from considering (or reconsidering) or from evaluating (or re-evaluating) any alternative,
or whether one has been prevented from finally acting on the alternative to which one
has assigned ones highest evaluation. Only if one knows that one has not been prevented
(internally or externally) from satisfactory completion of this process, does one know that
one has chosen and acted freely.
Counterexamples: One knows that one has not chosen freely if the process of considering
and evaluating the alternatives does not converge to a consistent result, whether because of
insufficient available time, because of recurring cognitive lapses (e.g., of attention, memory,
or computation), or because of inner conflicts or compulsions (such as an irrational urge at
variance with ones rationally chosen criteria). And, one knows if one has not acted freely
on ones choice because of an external constraint (e.g., imposed by a gun held to ones
head). (The important case of conflicting goals, which I first discussed in Shepard, 1964,
is deferred for special consideration in Point 7, below.)
3. If two or more of the represented alternatives are found to be equally valued by ones
chosen criteria, one knows that it does not matter which of the corresponding actions are
taken. In this case, one can let the choice among those equally highest valued alternatives
be made arbitrarily or at random.
Examples: One could make such a choice by a flip of coin or roll of dice or, more simply and
naturally, by leaving the choice to be determined by unknown processes (e.g., of thermal

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

29

or chaotic fluctuations) within ones own brainjust as one might allow an Archimedean
beam on which the weights are perfectly balanced to tip to either side by a random gust of
wind. (The unknown neuronal processes may, like gusts of wind, be strictly deterministic
but, if the possible outcomes are equally valued, neither the outcome nor the process from
which it arose matters.)
4. But what about the criteria one has chosen for the evaluation of the alternativeshave not
these, too, been deterministically constrained by prior (e.g., genetic, cultural, and neuronal)
circumstances? Of course, but those criteria, too, could have been selected freely, in the
same sense, from a set of explicitly contemplated alternatives and a set of still higher-level
criteria. If so, the determinants of those higher-level criteria are, again, both deterministic
causes and cognitively represented reasons.
Example: In playing tic-tac-toe with a young child who is just learning the game, one may
deliberately adopt different criteria for motivating the child by letting the child win the
game. One also knows that there is no necessary limit to the implied hierarchy of goals and
their associated criteria. I agree with Eddy Nahmias (personal communication, September
7, 2007) that one who insists that the specter of an infinite regress vitiates an attempt to
reconcile freedom with determinism is demanding something of freedom that it could not
have and that we do not need. A decision made at any level of the hierarchy is itself still
made freely at that level in the way I have explained, and one can be responsible for that
decision at that level without being responsible for its sufficient condition at any higher
level. (Again, important issues about choosing among conflicting goals are addressed in
Point 7, below.)
5. To assert that one made a choice or took an action freely is to assert that one could have
chosen or acted otherwise. (This is the already noted, essential symmetry of alternatives
with respect to their potentials for realization.) Although such a possibility appears to be
incompatible with determinism, reconciliation can be achieved through proper explications
of what one actually means when one makes the claim, I could have done otherwise.
Explications: (a) The choice made was from the equivalence class of those alternatives for
which one had computed the highest value according to ones adopted criteria. (b) One
knows, as well as one knows anything, that one was not compelled by any extraneous
constraint (internal or external) to choose a lesser-valued alternative. (c) One also knows
that if a choice were to have been made from the same equivalence class of ones equally
top-rated alternatives on a different occasion, a different choice might have been made
(e.g., automatically, by neuronal processes of the same deterministic sort but in a somewhat
different initial state) and, further, that such a different choice would have been equally
acceptable because the neuronal process was constrained to meet the same instantiated
criteria. (d) One also knows that a different choice could haveand, indeed, would have
been made if a different goal, with its different evaluative criteria, had been instantiated, as
would be likely under different circumstances (e.g., with access to additional or different
information).
6. But can one really be certain that all of the alternatives in the intended set have been
considered and properly evaluated in accordance with the intended criteria? Is it not
possible that ones memory of which alternatives have already been checked and what
evaluations made is in error (possibly, as in the thought experiment in the first of Descartes

30

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

1641 Meditations, because some evil demon is playing tricks on ones mind)? Of course,
one can never be absolutely certain; and, in practice, may become doubtful when the
alternatives become too numerous or ill-defined. But in the simplest cases of choosing
between only a few well-defined alternatives, with a clear head and ample time, I think
one can know as well as one knows anything that one has chosen freely (on the basis
of the available information). Thus, accepting a Chomskian competenceperformance
distinction, I believe this is sufficient to establish the possibility of free will of the only kind
that makes any sense. What skeptical doubts remain are of the speculative philosophical
kind that can always be raised about any of ones own cognitive functions of perception,
memory, or thought.
Examples (of kinds of knowledge that can be, but usually are not, doubted): ones
knowledge that one has proceeded correctly in any process of reasoning or calculation or
(at a deeper epistemological level) ones knowledge of the uniformity of nature, or of the
very existence of an external world, of a past or a future or of other consciousnesses beyond
ones own.
7. Additional issues are raised by cases in which ones own goals come into conflict with
each other. The process of working toward internal consistency in ones hierarchy of goals
and sub-goals, which has concerned me for many decades (beginning with the second and
the final sections in Shepard, 1964), is essentially like the process that (as I have more
recently been suggesting) may work toward a consistent system of (scientific or personal)
beliefs about the world. But, despite all efforts toward consistency, the flux of personal
circumstances gives rise to conflicting goals that I believe to be central to the disputes
between those who do and those who do not believe that free will is compatible with
determinism.
Examples (of such conflicting goals): Everyone experiences conflicts between such ordinary goals as those of (a) continuing a project in which one is enjoyably engaged, (b)
tending to some problem that has developed with the house or yard (e.g., as requested by
ones spouse), (c) taking a break with some friends (e.g., who are looking for a fourth for
tennis), or (d) furthering ones professional career (e.g., by agreeing to take on an onerous
task with a looming deadline). Some may additionally find themselves torn between a
desire for immediate gratification or release from a relentlessly increasing physiological
craving, on one hand, and their own resolution to abstain from the substance to which they
had become addicted, on the other hand. In the most extreme cases, one may experience
agonizing conflicts that are forced upon one externally (e.g., by a gun-wielding intruder
who demands to know the whereabouts of ones most valued possessions or loved ones).
It is interesting to note that, as has been documented by Nahmias, Morris, Nadelhoffer,
and Turner (2004), there is a systematic difference between compatibilist and libertarian
philosophers in what they present as paradigmatic examples of free will. The compatibilists
tend to cite confident decisions, whereas the libertarians tend to cite the more difficult
close-call decisions. This difference is understandable in that the antecedent causes that
determined the outcome are more obvious in confident decisions, where these causes are
also consciously accessible reasons, than for close-call decisions, where these causes may be
unknown neural events. I argue, however, that with a little more explication, the compatibilist

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

31

account that I have proposedwith its provision both for determination by reasons, in the
more confident cases, and determination by causes that are not reasons, in the close-call
casescan handle both types of cases.
Moreover, it can do so without resorting to the unintelligible claim of some libertarians
that a decision that is not determined by any antecedent events is somehow also a decision for
which one is morally responsible. It also does so without requiring the unintelligible claim
of some other libertarians that the cause of the decision is not an antecedent event but the
enduring agent him- or herself. What is unintelligible about this latter claim is how an entity
enduring over time (the agent) can cause an event (the decision) to occur at a particular time.
(In the next section, I propose a replacement of such agent causation with a different analysis
of agency that is, I believe, both intelligible and consistent with my deterministic account of
free will.)
For fuller clarification of the differences between libertarians and compatibilists, however,
we must recognize that the close-call cases vary widely from the trivially easy to the agonizingly difficult, depending on uncertainties as to the probabilities and the magnitudes of the
likely consequences of the alternatives. At the easy end, one who is indifferent between vanilla
and chocolate ice cream may be content to leave the choice of which to order to unknown inner
events (which are, accordingly, only causes and not reasons). But at the agonizing end, one
threatened by an intruder holding a gun to ones head will desperately try to weigh the reasons
favoring different courses of action; and one who is tempted to break ones own resolution
about avoiding a substance to which one has become addicted may endeavor to reinforce that
resolution by reviewing the rational reasons adduced for it.
The varieties of kinds of deliberation thus range between not two, but three paradigmatic
extremes. These may be illustrated by corresponding beam balance analogues as follows:
(a) A confident deliberation corresponds to the case in which the sum of the products of
the weights and their distances from the fulcrum is unmistakably greater on one side of the
fulcrum, ensuring that that side will tip down. (b) An easy close-call deliberation corresponds
to the case in which weights are distributed relatively close to the fulcrum and so that the sum
of the products is equal for the two sides, leaving the direction of tilting to be determined by an
extraneous vibrations or currents of air. (c) An agonizingly difficult deliberation corresponds
to the case in which the weights are distributed to positions that are far from the fulcrum on
both sides that are also uncertain and in flux, so that the final direction of tilt may primarily
depend on the (arbitrary) moment during this flux at which action is (or must be) finally taken.
The instabilities inherent in deliberations of this last, difficult type are also characteristic of
conflicts among goals, as I long ago argued in writing about selections among multi-attribute
alternatives (Shepard, 1964).
In the case of such agonizing decisions, the person who must make the decision is still
responsible for the reasons adduced in favor of each of the alternative actions. If we judge
the reasons to have been adopted carelessly, foolishly, or as a consequence of a life style
resulting from habitually poor choices, we will be inclined to hold the person responsible for
the outcome. But if, on imagining ourselves in the position of that person, we conclude that the
outcome was determined not from bad reasons but from irreducible uncertainties concerning
the values and probabilities of the outcomes, we will (in accordance with the Golden Rule)
charitably hold that person less responsible for the ensuing outcome.

32

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

The external constraints or internal compulsions affecting subjectively difficult deliberations may be experienced as limiting ones freedom. Yet (as noted by Nahmias et al., 2004),
libertarians regard just such cases as particularly demonstrative of free will. Perhaps this is
because such cases call for a triumph of will power over opposing forces. My claim, however, is that those cases, like all the others I have considered, can be explained solely in terms
of antecedent causessome of which are also reasons, others of which may be essentially
random. If the addict succeeds in holding to a resolution to abstain, this triumph of will arises
from a triumph of rationality. If the one threatened by a gun-wielding intruder is successful
in thinking of a reason why one of the alternative courses of action is more promising than
the others, that reason is also the antecedent cause of the resulting decision. If that threatened
individual is not successful in coming up with a reason for favoring any one alternative, the
ensuing decision, however agonizing, still had antecedent causes but they may not qualify as
reasons.

13. Self-knowledge and the cognitive grounds of agency

What I have so far written here about the grounds of ethics and free will may appear to
suffer from an inconsistency between (a) the claimed sufficiency of a completely deterministic
account and (b) my frequent locutions about a one who can evaluate the alternatives in a
represented set, who knows that one has chosen an alternative with the highest evaluation,
and so onlocutions that may seem to presuppose the existence of an agent who, independently of the worlds deterministic causal network, is autonomously doing the knowing,
evaluating, and choosing. I believe, however, that the implied agent can be explicated as an
integral (although very special) part of that causal network.
Hume (1739/1896) reported that his own introspections revealed sensory impressions,
memory images, and ideas but never a self that is the experiencer of these impressions,
images, or ideas. But Hume did not indicate how a self, if one were to exist, could reveal itself
through introspection, if not in the form of further impressions, images, or ideas.
My proposal is that just as one has the concept of another person as an experiencing,
choosing, and acting agent, one also has the concept of ones self as such an experiencing,
choosing, and acting agent. Moreover, ones concept of ones self, just as ones concept of
another persons self, undoubtedly consists of both images and ideas. These images and ideas
are of (a) the physical body, (b) the conscious experiences, and (c) the behavioral dispositions
of that self. (An early example of a computational model for such behavioral dispositions
may be found in the production systems of Allen Newell, 1973.) Indeed, one can represent
(within ones self) another selfs representation of ones own self, or even of ones own
self representing that other self. The potential depth of such reciprocal relationships between
selves reinforces our deepest intuitions about the symmetry of invariance under permutation of
persons and thereby contributes to our confidence in the existence of other minds, to empathy,
to love, and to the normative force of the Golden Rule. In any case, the recognition of the
special character of such selves and of the reciprocity between them seems to me essential for
the attribution of moral responsibility.

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

33

To know thyself, then, is (a) to know the existence of a robust (if unconscious) internal
system of ones own representations of alternatives, goals, and conditional predispositions
for action; and (b) to know that relevant subsets of those representations are accessible for
(conscious) evaluation and adjustmentin essentially the way that I have already described
for representing and choosing among alternatives. Just as one knows the existence of the
external, material world through what J. S. Mill (1865) called the permanent possibility of
sensations, one knows of ones self as the enduring possibility of access to ones unique set
of stable memories, beliefs, and predispositions. Moreover, to write, as I have been doing,
of ones self having knowledge of alternatives, of evaluating alternatives, of acting on such
evaluations, and of being morally responsible for ones actions, is not incompatible with
determinism.
Returning, finally, to the importance of thought experiments, consistency, and symmetry,
I suggest that the most effective way of gaining such knowledge of ones self may be by
performing thought experiments on how one would respond to various situations, imagined
as vividly and concretely as possible. In a kind of Socratic dialog with ones self one may
then be able to work toward mutual consistency among candidate moral principles (much as
a scientist works toward a consistent system of laws governing the external world). Mutual
consistency of ones principles for deciding between alternatives is necessary for unity of
ones self. A person who operates with logic-tight compartments that are inconsistent with
each other is like a dysfunctional family of selves.

14. Concluding remarks

The issues I have sought to address hereconcerning mathematics, the discovery of physical laws, the grounds of moral principles, the freedom of the will, and the nature of personal
agencymay have appeared inordinately heterogeneous for a single article in cognitive science. I, nevertheless, hope that readers will recognize that a core of central ideas has underlain
my approach to all of these issues. I conclude with a brief recapitulation of what I regard as
perhaps the most central of these core ideas:
1. Humans (apparently uniquely among terrestrial animals) are in the process of taking
(however partially) an unprecedented step to rationality.
2. Essential for this step is a capability to hold immediate self-interest in abeyance, to consider
and to evaluate (with respect to explicit, objective criteria) the alternatives in a mentally
well-represented set.
3. A deeply internalized (although initially unarticulated) wisdom about the most pervasive
and abstract features of our worldconcerning, for example, space, time, transformation,
invariance, and symmetryhas made possible the mental simulation of different alternative
actions and their likely consequences via thought experiments.
4. Such thought experiments, together with the guiding symmetry principle of invariance
under transformation, have enabled some individuals to arrive at explicit knowledge of
universal laws of mathematics and physics, and even of moral principles that may hold for
all rational beings.

34

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

5. The same rational capabilities for the evaluation of alternatives in terms of their likely
consequences also provides for an explication of how free will, far from being incompatible with determinism, makes personal responsibility possible through deterministic
antecedents of the kind we call reasons.

Acknowledgments
I thank the Robert J. Glushko and Pamela Samuelson Foundation and the Cognitive Science
Society, as well as Bob Glushko and the other members of the Rumelhart Prize Committee
for affording me this opportunity to present some of my thinking about the remarkable
effectiveness of thought experiments and for awarding me the 2006 David E. Rumelhart
Prizea very special honor for me, long an admirer of my former colleague Davids brilliant
contributions to cognitive science. I thank Joshua Tenenbaum for his role in organizing
the symposium in my honor at the 2006 meeting of the Cognitive Science Society and in
coordinating the preparation of this special issue of Cognitive Science. I am indebted to Josh,
Nick Chater, Jacob Feldman, and Tamar Szabo Gendler for their inspiring presentations at
that meeting, and to Thomas Griffiths and all the other contributors to this special issue. I also
thank Paul Smolensky for his beautifully expressed and well-informed introduction to my
presentation at that meeting. In preparing the present, expanded version of my presentation
there, I have benefited enormously from insightful and clarifying suggestions provided by
Tamar, by Eddy Nahmias, and by two anonymous reviewers.

References
Bentham, J. (1946). An introduction to the principles of morals and legislation. New York: Hafner. (Original work
published 1789).
Chater, N., & Vitanyi, M. B. (2003). The generalized universal law of generalization. Journal of Mathematical
Psychology, 47, 346369.
Dennett, D. C. (1984). Elbow room: The varieties of free will worth wanting. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.
Dennett, D. C. (2003). Freedom evolves. New York: Viking.
Feldman, J. (2000). Minimization of Boolean complexity in human concept learning. Nature, 407, 630633.
Feynman, R. P., & Hibbs, A. R. (1965). Quantum mechanics and path integrals. New York: McGraw-Hill.
Feynman, R. P., Leighton, R. B., & Sands, M. (1963). The Feynman lectures on physics (Vol. 1). Reading, MA:
Addison-Wesley.
Gendler, T. S. (1998). Galileo and the indispensability of scientific thought experiment. The British Journal for the
Philosophy of Science, 49, 397424.
Gendler, T. S. (2004). Thought experiments rethoughtand reperceived. Philosophy of Science, 71, 11521164.
Gewirth, A. (1978). Reason and morality. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Hume, D. (1896). A treatise of human nature (L. A. Selby-Bigge, Ed.). Oxford, England: Clarendon. (Original
work published 1739).
Kant, I. (1964). Groundwork of the metaphysics of morals (H. J. Patton, Trans.). New York: Harper & Row.
(Original work published 1785).
McKenna, M. (2004). Compatibilism. The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (summer ed.). Retrieved May 16,
2007, from http://plato.stanford.edu/archives/sum2004/entries/compatibilism/
Mill, J. S. (1865). An examination of Sir William Hamiltons philosophy. Boston, MA: W. V. Spence.

R. N. Shepard/Cognitive Science 32 (2008)

35

Nahmias, E., Morris, S., Nadelhoffer, T., & Turner, J. (2004). The phenomenology of free will. Journal of
Consciousness Studies, 11, 162179.
Newell, A. (1973). Production systems: Models of control structures. In W. G. Chase (Ed.), Visual information
processing (pp. 463526), New York: Academic.
Planck, M. (1993). A survey of physical theory (D. H. Williams, Trans.). New York: Dover. (Original work published
1925).
Rawls, J. (1971). A theory of justice. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Shepard, R. N. (1964). On subjectively optimum selections among multi-attribute alternatives. In M. W. Shelley
& G. L. Bryan (Eds.), Human judgments and optimality (pp. 257281). New York: Wiley.
Shepard, R. N. (1987). Toward a universal law of generalization for psychological science. Science, 237, 1317
1323.
Shepard, R. N. (1994). Perceptual-cognitive universals as reflections of the world. Psychonomic Bulletin and
Review, 1, 228.
Shepard, R. N. (2001). On the possibility of universal mental laws: A reply to my critics. Behavioral and Brain
Sciences, 24, 712748.
Shepard, R. N. (2003). How a cognitive psychologist came to seek universal laws. Psychonomic Bulletin and
Review, 11, 123.
Shepard, R. N., & Cooper, L. A. (1982). Mental images and their transformations. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.
Shepard, R. N., & Metzler, J. A. (1971). Mental rotation of three-dimensional objects. Science, 171, 701703.
Tenenbaum, J. B., & Griffiths, T. L. (2001a). Generalization, similarity, and Bayesian inference. Behavioral and
Brain Sciences, 24, 629640.
Tenenbaum, J. B., & Griffiths, T. L. (2001b). Some specifics about generalization. Behavioral and Brain Sciences,
24, 762778.

von Helmholtz, H. (1886). Uber

die physikalische Bedeutung des Princips der kleinsten Wirkung [On the physical
meaning of the principle of least action]. Journal fur reine und angewandte Mathematik, 100, 137166.
Wattles, J. (1996). The Golden Rule. Oxford, England: Oxford University Press.