In so doing, I examine, in detail, the issues raised in a paper by Janet Levin in which she engages in an instructive debate with Colin McGinn. In particular, I argue that there is good reason to think that Colour Relationalism needs to be supplemented by some version of an Error theory.
In this paper, I challenge both assumptions.
second is that "error theories" are theories of last resort. Cohen makes two important assumptions: one is that Colour Relationalism and Colour Irrealism (which include Colour Eliminativism, Fictionalism and other "error theories") are rivals the. Jonathan Cohen has produced a powerful argument for Colour Relationalism: the metaphysical thesis that colours are relational properties of a certain sort-relational with respect to perceivers and circumstances. The life, indeed, had proved exceedingly severe, and young Harris benefited accordingly for though corporal punishment was unknown, there was a system of mental and spiritual correction which somehow made the soul stand proudly erect to receive it, while it struck at the very root of the fault and taught the boy that his character was being cleaned and strengthened, and that he was not merely being tortured in a kind of personal revenge. It belonged to the deeply religious life of a small Protestant community (which it is unnecessary to specify), and his father had sent him there at the age of fifteen, partly because he would learn the German requisite for the conduct of the silk business, and partly because the discipline was strict, and discipline was what his soul and body needed just then more than anything else.
Now, deep down in the heart that for thirty years had been concerned chiefly with the profitable buying and selling of silk, this school had left the imprint of its peculiar influence, and, though perhaps unknown to Harris, had strongly coloured the whole of his subsequent existence. Paul's Churchyard that John Silence owed one of the most curious cases of his whole experience, for at that very moment he happened to be tramping these same mountains with a holiday knapsack, and from different points of the compass the two men were actually converging towards the same inn. And it was to this chance impulse of the junior partner in Harris Brothers of St. Harris, the silk merchant, was in South Germany on his way home from a business trip when the idea came to him suddenly that he would take the mountain railway from Strassbourg and run down to revisit his old school after an interval of something more than thirty years.
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