DOSSIER: Grices favourite vacuous Names is Bellerophon. This is
an essay commissioned by Donald Davison and Jaako Hintikka for Words and
objects: essays in the work of W. V. Quine for Reidel. Words and objects
had appeared (without Grices contribution) as a special issue of Synthese.
Grices contribution, along with Quines Reply to Grice, appeared only in the
reprint of that special issue for Reidel in Dordrecht. Grice cites from
various philosophers (and logicians ‒ this was the time when logic was
starting to be taught outside philosophy departments, or sub-faculties), such
asMitchell, Myro, B. Mates, Donnellan, Strawson, Grice was
particularly proud to be able to quote Mates by mouth or book. Grice takes
the opportunity, in his tribute to Quine, to introduce one of two of his
syntactical devices to allow for conversational implicata to be given maximal
scope. The device in Vacuous Namess is a subscription device to indicate
the ordering of introduction of this or that operation. Grice wants to
give room for utterances of a special existential kind be deemed rational/reasonable,
provided the principle of conversational helfpulness is thought of by the
addressee to be followed by the utterer. Someone isnt attending the party
organised by the Merseyside Geographical Society. That is Marmaduke
Bloggs, who climbed Mt. Everest on hands and knees. But who, as it
happened, turned out to be an invention of the journalists at the Merseyside
Newsletter. 1969, in Davidson and Hintikka, Words and objections:
essays on the work of W. V. Quine, Dordrecht, Reidel, 1969, Vacuous Namess, :
identificatory use, non-identificatory use, subscript device. Davidson and
Hintikka were well aware of the New-World impact of the Old-World ideas
displayed by Grice and Strawson in their attack to Quine. Quine had indeed
addressed Grices and Strawsons sophisticated version of the paradigm-case
argument in Word and Object. Davidson and Hintikka arranged to publish a
special issue for a periodical publication, to which Strawson had already
contributed. It was only natural, when Davidson and Hintikka were informed by
Reidel of their interest in turning the special issue into a separate volume,
that they would approach the other infamous member of the dynamic
duo! Commissioned by Davidson and Hintikka for Words and objections:
essays on the work of W. V. Quine. Grice introduces a subscript device to
account for implicata of utterances like Marmaduke Bloggs won’t be
attending the party; he was invented by the journalists. In the
later section, he explores identificatory and non identificatory uses of
the without involving himself in the problems Donnellan did! Some
philosophers, notably Ostertag, have found the latter section the most
intriguing bit, and thus Ostertag cared to reprint the section on Descriptions
for his edited MIT volume on the topic. The essay is structured very
systematically with an initial section on a calculus alla Gentzen, followed by
implicata of vacuous Namess such as Marmaduke Bloggs, to end with definite
descriptions, repr. by Ostertag, and psychological predicates. Its
best to focus on a few things here. First his imaginary dialogues on Marmaduke
Bloggs, brilliant! Second, this as a preamble to his Presupposition and
conversational implicature. There is a quantifier phrase, the, and two uses of
it: one is an identificatory use (the haberdasher is clumsy, or THE haberdasher
is clumsy, as Grice prefers) and then theres a derived, non-identificatory use:
the haberdasher (whoever she was! to use Grices and Mitchells addendum) shows
her clumsiness. The use of the numeric subscripts were complicated enough to
delay the publication of this. The whole thing was a special issue of a
journal. Grices contribution came when Reidel turned that into a volume. Grice
later replaced his numeric subscript device by square brackets. Perhaps the square
brackets are not subtle enough, though. Grices contribution, Vacuous Namess,
(later reprinted in part in Ostertags volume on Definite descriptions)
concludes with an exploration of the phrases, and further on, with some
intriguing remarks on the subtle issues surrounding the scope of an ascription
of a predicate standing for a psychological state or
attitude. Grices choice of an ascription now notably involves an
opaque (rather than factive, like know) psychological state or attitude: wanting,
which he symbolizes as W. Grice considers a quartet of utterances:
Jack wants someone to marry him; Jack wants someone or other to marry
him; Jack wants a particular person to marry him, and There is
someone whom Jack wants to marry him.Grice notes that there are clearly at
least two possible readings of an utterance like our (i): a first reading
in which, as Grice puts it, (i) might be paraphrased by (ii).
A second reading is one in which it might be paraphrased by
(iii) or by (iv). Grice goes on to symbolize the phenomenon in his
own version of a first-order predicate calculus. Ja wants that p becomes Wjap
where ja stands for the individual constant Jack as a super-script attached to
the predicate standing for Jacks psychological state or attitude. Grice writes:
Using the apparatus of classical predicate logic, we might hope to represent,
respectively, the external reading and the internal reading (involving
an intentio secunda or intentio obliqua) as (Ǝx)WjaFxja
and Wja(Ǝx)Fxja. Grice then goes on to discuss a slightly more
complex, or oblique, scenario involving this second internal reading, which is
the one that interests us, as it involves an intentio seconda.Grice notes: But
suppose that Jack wants a specific individual, Jill, to marry him, and
this because Jack has been deceived into thinking that his friend Joe has a
highly delectable sister called Jill, though in fact Joe is an only child. The
Jill Jack eventually goes up the hill with is,
coincidentally, another Jill, possibly existent. Let us recall that Grices
main focus of the whole essay is, as the title goes, emptiness! In these
circumstances, one is inclined to say that (i) is true only on
reading (vii), where the existential quantifier occurs within the
scope of the psychological-state or -attitude verb, but we cannot now
represent (ii) or (iii), with Jill being vacuous, by (vi), where the
existential quantifier (Ǝx) occurs outside the scope of the
psychological-attitude verb, want, since [well,] Jill does not really
exist, except as a figment of Jacks imagination. In a manoeuver that I
interpret as purely intentionalist, and thus favouring by far Suppess over
Chomskys characterisation of Grice as a mere behaviourist, Grice hopes that
we should be provided with distinct representations
for two familiar readings of, now: Jack wants Jill to marry him and
Jack wants Jill to marry him. It is at this point that Grice applies a
syntactic scope notation involving sub-scripted numerals, (ix) and (x),
where the numeric values merely indicate the order of introduction of the
symbol to which it is attached in a deductive schema for the predicate calculus
in question. Only the first formulation represents the internal reading (where
ji stands for Jill): W2ja4F1ji3ja4 and
W3ja4F2ji1ja4. Note
that in the second formulation, the individual constant for Jill, ji, is
introduced prior to want, – jis sub-script is 1, while Ws sub-script is the
higher numerical value 3. Grice notes: Given that Jill does not exist, only the
internal reading can be true, or alethically satisfactory. Grice sums up
his reflections on the representation of the opaqueness of a verb standing for
a psychological state or attitude like that expressed by wanting with one
observation that further marks him as an intentionalist, almost of a Meinongian
type. He is willing to allow for existential phrases in cases of vacuous
designata, provided they occur within opaque psychological-state or attitude
verbs, and he thinks that by doing this, he is being faithful to the richness
and exuberance of ordinary discourse, while keeping Quine happy. As Grice
puts it, we should also have available to us also three neutral, yet distinct,
(Ǝx)-quantificational forms (together with their isomorphs), as a philosopher
who thinks that Wittgenstein denies a distinction, craves for a generality!
Jill now becomes x. W4ja5Ǝx3F1x2ja5, Ǝx5W2ja5F1x4ja3, Ǝx5W3ja4F1x2ja4. As Grice
notes, since in (xii) the individual variable x (ranging over Jill) does not
dominate the segment following the (Ǝx) quantifier, the formulation does not display
any existential or de re, force, and is suitable therefore for representing the
internal readings (ii) or (iii), if we have to allow, as we do have, if we want
to faithfully represent ordinary discourse, for the possibility of expressing
the fact that a particular person, Jill, does not actually exist. At least
Grice does not write, really, for he knew that Austin detested a trouser word!
Grice concludes that (xi) and (xiii) will be derivable from each of (ix) and
(x), while (xii) will be derivable only from (ix).Grice had been Strawsons
logic tutor at St. Johns (Mabbott was teaching the grand stuff!) and it shows!
One topic that especially concerned Grice relates to the introduction and
elimination rules, as he later searches for generic satisfactoriness. Grice wonders [W]hat should be said
of Takeutis conjecture (roughly) that the nature of
the introduction rule determines the character of
the elimination rule? There seems to be
no particular problem about allowing an introduction rule which tells
us that, if it is established in Xs personalized system that φ, then it is
necessary with respect to X that φ is
true (establishable). The accompanying elimination rule is, however, slightly
less promising. If we suppose such a rule to tell us that, if one is committed
to the idea that it is necessary with respect to X that φ, then one is also
committed to whatever is expressed by φ, we shall be in trouble; for such a
rule is not acceptable; φ will be a volitive expression such as let it be that
X eats his hat; and my commitment to the idea that Xs system requires him to
eat his hat does not ipso facto involve me in accepting (buletically) let X eat
his hat. But if we take the elimination rule rather as telling us that, if it
is necessary with respect to X that let X eat his hat, then let X eat his hat
possesses satisfactoriness-with-respect-to-X, the situation is easier; for this
version of the rule seems inoffensive, even for Takeuti, we hope. A very
interesting concept Grice introduces in the definite-descriptor section of
Vacuous Namess is that of a conversational dossier, for which he uses the Greek
letter delta. The key concept is that of conversational dossier overlap, common
ground, or conversational pool. Let us say that an utterer U has a dossier for
a definite description D if there is a set of definite descriptions which
include D, all the members of which the utterer supposes to be satisfied by one
and the same item and the utterer U intends his addressee A to think (via the
recognition that A is so intended) that the utterer U has a dossier for the
definite description D which the utterer uses, and that the utterer U has
specifically selected (or chosen, or picked) this specific D from this dossier
at least partly in the hope that his addressee A has his own dossier for D
which overlaps the utterers dossier for D, viz. shares a substantial, or in
some way specially favoured, su-bset with the utterers dossier. Its unfortunate
that the idea of a dossier is not better known amog Oxonian philosophers. Unlike
approaches to the phenomenon by other Oxonian philosophers like Grices tutee
Strawson and his three principles (conversational relevance, presumption of
conversational knowledge, and presumption of conversational ignorance) or
Urmson and his, apter than Strawsons, principle of conversational appositeness
(Mrs.Smiths husband just delivered a letter, You mean the postman!?), only
Grice took to task the idea of formalising this in terms of set-theory and
philosophical psychology ‒ note his charming reference to the
utterers hope (never mind intention) that his choice of d from his dossier will
overlap with some d in the dossier of his his addressee. The point of adding
whoever he may be for the non-identificatory is made by Mitchell, of Worcester,
in his Griceian textbook for Hutchinson.
SELF-CONTRADICTION: Grice refers to Bayes in WoW re Grices
paradox, and to crazy Bayesy, as Peter Achinstein does (Newton was crazy, but
not Bayesy). We can now, in principle, characterize the desirability
of the action a 1 , relative to each end (E1 and E2), and to each combination
of ends (here just E1 and E2), as a function of the desirability of the end and
the probability that the action a 1 will realize that end, or combination of
ends. If we envisage a range of possible actions, which includes a 1 together
with other actions, we can imagine that each such action has a certain degree
of desirability relative to each end (E1 and (or) E2) and to their combination.
If we suppose that, for each possible action, these desirabilities can be
compounded (perhaps added), then we can suppose that one particular possible
action scored higher (in actiondesirability relative to these ends) than any
alternative possible action; and that this is the action which wins out; that
is, is the action which is, or at least should, end p.105 be performed. (The
computation would in fact be more complex than I have described, once account
is taken of the fact that the ends involved are often not definite
(determinate) states of affairs (like becoming President), but are
variable in respect of the degree to which they might be realized (if ones end
is to make a profit from a deal, that profit might be of a varying magnitude);
so one would have to consider not merely the likelihood of a particular actions
realizing the end of making a profit, but also the likelihood of its realizing
that end to this or that degree; and this would considerably complicate the
computational problem.) No doubt most readers are far too sensible ever to have
entertained any picture even remotely resembling the "Crazy-Bayesy"
one I have just described. Grice was fascinated by the fact that paradox
translates the Grecian neuter paradoxon. Some of the paradoxes of entailment,
entailment and paradoxes. This is not the first time Grice uses paradox. As a
classicist, he was aware of the nuances between paradox (or paradoxon, as he
preferred, via Latin paradoxum, and aporia, for example. He was interested
in Strawsons treatment of this or that paradox of entailment. He even called
his own paradox involving if and probablility Grices paradox. In Grices
paradox, Grice invites us to supposes that two chess players, Yog and Zog,
play 100 games under the following conditions. (1) Yog is white nine of ten
times. (2) There are no draws. And the results are: (1) Yog, when
white, won 80 of 90 games. (2) Yog, when black, won zero of ten games.
This implies that: (i) 8/9 times, if Yog was white, Yog won. (ii) 1/2 of
the time, if Yog lost, Yog was black. (iii) 9/10 that either Yog wasnt white or
he won. From these statements, it might appear one could make these
deductions by contraposition and conditional disjunction: ([a] from [ii])
If Yog was white, then 1/2 of the time Yog won. ([b] from [iii]) 9/10 times, if
Yog was white, then he won. But both (a) and (b) are untrue—they
contradict (i). In fact, (ii) and (iii) dont provide enough information to use
Bayesian reasoning to reach those conclusions. That might be clearer if
(i)-(iii) had instead been stated like so: (i) When Yog was white, Yog
won 8/9 times. (No information is given about when Yog was black.) (ii) When
Yog lost, Yog was black 1/2 the time. No information is given about when Yog
won. (iii) 9/10 times, either Yog was black and won, Yog was black and lost, or
Yog was white and won. (No information is provided on how the 9/10 is divided
among those three situations. Grices paradox shows that the exact meaning of
statements involving conditionals and probabilities is more complicated than
may be obvious on casual examination. Another paradox that Grice examines at
length is Moores paradox. For Grice, unlike Nowell-Smith, an utterer who, by
uttering The cat is on the mat explicitly conveys that the cat is on the mat
does not thereby implicitly convey that he believes that the cat is on the mat.
He, more crucially expresses that he believes that the cat is on the mat ‒ and
this is not cancellable. He occasionally refers to Moores paradox in the
buletic mode, Close the door even if thats not my desire. An imperative still
expresses someones desire. The sergeant who orders his soldiers to muster at
dawn because he is following the lieutenants order. Grices first encounter with
paradox remains his studying Malcolms misleading exegesis of Moore.
IMPLICATURE: Grice disliked a presupposition. The Grice Collection
also contains a f. for Odd ends: Urbana and non-Urbana. Grice continues with
the elaboration of a formal calculus. He originally baptised it System Q in
honour of Quine. At a later stage, Myro will re-Names it System G, in a
special version, System GHP, a highly powerful/hopefully plausible version of
System G, in gratitude to Grice. Odd Ends: Urbana and Not Urbana, Odds and
ends: Urbana and not Urbana, or not-Urbana, or Odds and ends: Urbana and non
Urbana, or Oddents, urbane and not urbane, : semantics, Urbana lectures. The
Urbana lectures were on language and reality. Grice kept revising them, as
these items show. Language and reality, The University of Illinois at
Urbana, The Urbana Lectures, Language and reference, language and reality, The
Urbana lectures, University of Illinois at Urbana, language, reference,
reality Grice favours a transcendental approach to communication. Our
beliefs worth communicating have to be true. Our orders worth
communicating have to refer to our willings. The fourth lecture is the one
Grice dates as 1970 in WOW . Smith has not ceased from beating his wife,
presupposition and conversational implicature, in Cole, Radical pragmatics,
repr. in a revised form in Grice, WOW , in Part II, Explorations in semantics
and metaphysics, essay, presupposition and implicature, presupposition,
conversational implicature, implicature, Strawson. Grice: The loyalty examiner
wont summon you, dont worry. Grices cancellation could be pretty subtle! Well,
the loyalty examiner will not be summoning you at any rate. Grice goes back to
the issue of negation and not. If, Grice notes, is is a matter of dispute
whether the government has a very undercover person who interrogates those
whose loyalty is suspect and who, if he existed, could be legitimately referred
to as the loyalty examiner; and if, further, I am known to be very sceptical
about the existence of such a person, I could perfectly well say to a plainly
loyal person, Well, the loyalty examiner will not be summoning you at any rate,
without, Grice would think, being taken to imply that such a person
exists. Further, if the utterer U is well known to disbelieve in the existence
of such a person, though others are inclined to believe in him, when U finds a
man who is apprised of Us position, but who is worried in case he is summoned,
U may try to reassure him by uttering, The loyalty examiner will not summon
you, do not worry. Then it would be clear that U uttered this because U is sure
there is no such person. The lecture given in 1970 was variously reprinted, but
1970 should remain the preferred citation. There are divergences in the various
drafts, though. The original source of this exploration was a seminar.
Grice is interested in re-conceptualising Strawsons manoeuvre regarding
presupposition as involving what Grice disregards as a metaphysical concoction:
the truth-value gap. In Grices view, based on a principle of conversational
tailoring that falls under his principle of conversational helpfulness ‒
indeed under the desideratum of conversational clarity (be perspicuous
[sic]) ‒ The king of France is bald entails there is a king of
France; while The king of France aint bald merely implicates it. Grice
much preferred Collingwoods to Strawsons presuppositions! Grice thought, and
rightly, too, that if his notion of the conversational implicatum was to gain
Oxonian currency, it should supersede Strawsons idea of the
præ-suppositum. Strawson, in his attack to Russell, had been playing with
Quines idea of a truth-value gap. Grice shows that neither the metaphysical
concoction of a truth-value gap nor the philosophical tool of the
præ-suppositum is needed. The king of France is bald entails There is a king of
France. It is part of what U is logically committed to by what he explicitly
conveys. By uttering, The king of France is not bald on the other hand, U
merely implicitly conveys or implicates that there is a king of France. A
perfectly adequate, or impeccable, as Grice prefers, cancellation, abiding with
the principle of conversational helpfulness is in the offing. The king of
France aint bald. What made you think he is? For starters, he aint real! Grice
credits Hans Sluga for having pointed out to him the way to deal with the
definite descriptor or definite article or the iota quantifier the formally.
One thing Russell discovered is that the variable denoting function is to be
deduced from the variable propositional function, and is not to be taken as an
indefinable. Russell tries to do without the iota i as an indefinable, but
fails. Russells success later, in On denoting, is the source of all his
subsequent progress. The iota quantifier consists of an inverted iota to be
read the individuum x, as in (℩x).F(x).
Grice opts for the Whiteheadian-Russellian standard rendition, in terms of the
iota operator. Grices take on Strawson is a strong one. The king of France is
bald; entails there is a king of France, and what the utterer explicitly
conveys is doxastically unsatisfactory. The king of France aint bald does not.
By uttering The king of France aint bald U only implicates that there is a king
of France, and what he explicitly conveys is doxastically satisfactory. Grice
knew he was not exactly robbing Peter to pay Paul, or did he? It is worth
placing the 1970 lecture in context. Soon after delivering in the New World his
exploration on the implicatum, Grice has no better idea than to promote
Strawsons philosophy in the New World. Strawson will later reflect on the
colder shores of the Old World, so we know what Grice had in mind! Strawsons
main claim to fame in the New World (and at least Oxford in the Old World) was
his On referring, where he had had the cheek to say that by uttering, The king
of France is not bald, the utterer implies that there is a king of France (if
not that, as Grice has it, that what U explicitly conveys is doxastically
satisfactory. Strawson later changed that to the utterer presupposes that there
is a king of France. So Grice knows what and who he was dealing with. Grice and
Strawson had entertained Quine at Oxford, and Strawson was particularly keen on
that turn of phrase he learned from Quine, the truth-value gap. Grice, rather,
found it pretty repulsive: Tertium exclusum! So, Grice goes on to argue that by
uttering The king of France is bald, one entailment of what U explicitly
conveys is indeed There is a king of France. However, in its negative
co-relate, things change. By uttering The king of France aint bald, the utterer
merely implicitly conveys or implicates (in a pretty cancellable format) that
there is a king of France. The king of France aint bald: theres no king of
France! The loyalty examiner is like the King of France, in ways! The piece is
crucial for Grices re-introduction of the square-bracket device: [The king of
France] is bald; [The king of France] aint bald. Whatever falls within the
scope of the square brackets is to be read as having attained common-ground
status and therefore, out of the question, to use Collingwoods jargon! Grice
was very familiar with Collingwood on presupposition, meant as an attack on
Ayer. Collingwoods reflections on presuppositions being either relative or
absolute may well lie behind Grices metaphysical construction of absolute
value! The earliest exploration by Grice on this is his infamous, Smith has not
ceased from beating his wife, discussed by Ewing in Meaninglessness for Mind in
1937! Grice goes back to the example in the excursus on implying that in Causal
Theory, and it is best to revisit this source. Note that in the reprint in
Studies Grice does NOT go, one example of presupposition, which eventually is a
type of conversational implicature. Grices antipathy to Strawsons
presupposition is metaphysical: he dislikes the idea of a satisfactory-value-gap,
as he notes in the second paragraph to Logic and conversation. And his
antipathy crossed the buletic-doxastic divide! Using
φ to represent a sentence in either mode, he stipulate that ~φ is
satisfactory just in case ⌈φ⌉ is
unsatisfactory. A crunch, as he puts it, becomes obvious: ~ ⊢The
king of France is bald may perhaps be treated as equivalent to ⊢~(The
king of France is bald). But what about ~!Arrest the intruder? What do we say
in cases like, perhaps, Let it be that I now put my hand on my head or Let it
be that my bicycle faces north, in which (at least on occasion) it seems to be
that neither !p nor !~p is either satisfactory or unsatisfactory? If !p is
neither satisfactory nor unsatisfactory (if that make sense, which doesnt to
me), does the philosopher assign a third buletically satisfactory value (0.5)
to !p (buletically neuter, or indifferent). Or does the philosopher say that we
have a buletically satisfactory value gap, as Strawson, following Quine, might
prefer? This may require careful consideration; but I cannot see that the
problem proves insoluble, any more than the analogous problem connected with
Strawsons doxastic presupposition is insoluble. The difficulty is not so much
to find a solution as to select the best solution from those which present
themselves.
ORATIO OBLIQUA: Grice was especially concerned that buletic verbs
usually do not take a that-clause (but cf. James: I will that the distant table
sides over the floor toward me. It does not!). Also that seems takes a that-clause
in ways that might not please Maucalay. Grice had explored that-clauses with
Staal. He was concerned about the viability of Davidsons initially appealing
etymological approach to the that-clause in terms of demonstration. Grice had
presupposed the logic of that-clauses from a much earlier stage, Those spots
mean that he has measles.The f. contains a copy of Davidsons essay, On saying
that, 1980, the that-clause, 1970, the that-clause, with Staal . Davidson
quotes from Murray et al. The Oxford English Dictionary, Oxford. Cf.
Onions, An Advanced English Syntax, and remarks that first learned that
that in such contexts evolved from an explicit demonstrative from Hintikkas
Knowledge and Belief. Hintikka remarks that a similar development has taken
place in German Davidson owes the reference to the O.E.D. to Stiezel. Indeed
Davidson was fascinated by the fact that his conceptual inquiry repeated
phylogeny. It should come as no surprise that a that-clause
utterance evolves through about the stages our ruminations have just
carried us. According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the use of that in a that-clause
is generally held to have arisen out of the demonstrative pronoun pointing to
the clause which it introduces. Cf. 1. He once lived here: we all know that.,
2. that (now this) we all know: he once lived here. 3. We all know THAT (or
this): he once lived here. 4. We all know THAT he once lived here. As Hintikka
notes, some pedants trying to display their knowledge of German, use a comma
before that: We all know, that he once lived here, to stand for an earlier ::
We all know: that he once lived here. Just like the English translation that, dass can be omitted in a
sentence. Er glaubt, dass die Erde eine
Scheibe sei. He believes that the Earth is a disc. Er
glaubt, die Erde sei eine Scheibe. He believes the Earth is a disc. The
that-clause is brought to the fore by Davidson, who, consulting the Oxford
English Dictionary, reminds philosophers that the English that is very cognate
with the German idiom. More specifically, that is a demonstrative, even if
the syntax, in English, hides this fact in ways which German syntax
doesnt. Grice needs to rely on that-clauses for his analysis of mean,
intend, and notably will. He finds that Prichards genial discovery was the
license to use willing as pre-facing a that-clause. This allows Grice to
deals with willing as applied to a third person. I will that he wills that he
wins the chess match. Philosophers who disregard this third-person use may
indulge in introspection and Subjectsivism when they shouldnt! Grice said that
Prichard had to be given great credit for seeing that the accurate
specification of willing should be willing that and not willing
to. Analogously, following Prichard on willing, Grice does not stipulate that the radix for an
intentional (utterer-oriented or exhibitive-autophoric-buletic) incorporate a
reference to the utterer (be in the first person), nor that the radix for an
imperative (addressee-oriented or hetero-phoric protreptic buletic) or
desiderative in general, incorporate a reference of the addressee (be in the
second person). They shall not pass is a legitimate intentional as is the You
shall not get away with it (either involves Prichards wills that , rather than
wills to). And The sergeant is to muster the men at dawn (uttered by a captain
to a lieutenant) is a perfectly good imperative, again involving Prichards
wills that , rather than wills to
SUBJECTIVISM: Grice was concerned with intending folloed by a that-clause.
Jeffrey defines desirability as doxastically modified. It is entirely possible
for someone to desire the love that he already has. Its what he thinks that
matters. Cf. his dispositional account to intending. A Subjectsive
condition takes into account the intenders, rather than the ascribers, point of
view: Marmaduke Bloggs intends to climb Mt. Everest on hands and knees.
Bloggs might reason: Given my present state, I should do what is
fun. Given my present state, the best thing for me to do would be to do
what is fun. For me in my present state it would make for my well-being,
to have fun. Having fun is good, or, a good. Climbing a mountain would be
fun. Climbing the Everest would be/make for climbing fun. So, I shall
climb the Everest. Even if a critic insisted that a practical syllogism is
the way to represent Bloggs finding something to be appealing, and that it
should be regarded as a respectable evaluation, the assembled propositions dont
do the work of a standard argument. The premises do not support or yield the
conclusion as in a standard argument. The premises may be said to yield the
conclusion, or directive, for the particular agent whose reasoning process it
is, only on the basis of a Subjectsive condition: that the agent is in a
certain Subjectsive state, e.g. feels like going out for dinner-fun. Rational
beings (the agent at some other time, or other individuals) who do not have
that feeling, will not accept the conclusion. They may well accept as true It
is fun to climb Everest, but will not accept it as a directive unless they feel
like it now. Someone wondering what to do for the summer might think that if he
were to climb Everest he would find it fun or pleasant, but right now she does
not feel like it. That is in general the end of the matter. The alleged
argument lacks normativity. It is not authoritative or directive unless there
is a supportive argument that he needs/ought to do something diverting/pleasant
in the summer. A practical argument is different. Even if an agent did not feel
like going to the doctor, an agent would think I ought to have a medical check
up yearly, now is the time, so I should see my doctor to be a directive with
some force. It articulates a practical argument. Perhaps the strongest
attempt to reconstruct an (acceptable or rational) thought transition as a
standard arguments is to treat the Subjectsive condition, I feel like
having climbing fun in the summer, as a premise, for then the premises would
support the conclusion. But the individual, whose thought transition we are
examining, does not regard a description of his psychological state as a
consideration that supports the conclusion. It will be useful to look more
closely at a variant of the example to note when it is appropriate to
reconstruct thinking in the form of argument. Bloggs, now hiking with a
friend in the Everest, comes to a difficult spot and says: I dont like the look
of that, I am frightened. I am going back. That is usually enough for
Bloggs to return, and for the friend to turn back with him. Bloggss action of
turning back, admittedly motivated by fear, is, while not acting on reasons,
nonetheless rational unless we judge his fear to be irrational. Bloggss Subjectsive
condition can serve as a premise, but only in a very different
situation. Bloggs resorts to reasons. Suppose that, while his friend does not
think Bloggss fear irrational, the friend still attempts to dissuade Bloggs
from going back. After listening and reflecting, Bloggs may say I am so
frightened it is not worth it. I am not enjoying this climbing anymore. Or I am
too frightened to be able to safely go on. Or I often climb the Everest and
dont usually get frightened. The fact that I am now is a good indication that
this is a dangerous trail and I should turn back. These are reasons,
considerations implicitly backed by principles, and they could be the initial
motivations of someone. But in Bloggss case they emerged when he was challenged
by his friend. They do not express his initial practical reasoning. Bloggs was
frightened by the trail ahead, wanted to go back, and didnt have any reason not
to. Note that there is no general rational requirement to always act on
reasons, and no general truth that a rational individual would be better off
the more often he acted on reasons. Faced with his friends objections, however,
Bloggs needed justification for acting on his fear. He reflected and found
reason(s) to act on his fear. Grice plays with Subjectsivity already in
Prolegomena. Consider the use of carefully. Surely we must include the agents
own idea of this. Or consider the use of phi and phi – surely we dont want the
addressee to regard himself under the same guise with which the utterer regards
him. Or consider Aspects of Reason: Nixon must be appointed professor of
theology at Oxford. Does he feel the need? Grice raises the topic of Subjectsivity
again in the Kant lectures just after his discussion of mode, in a sub-section
entitled, Modalities: relative and absolute. He finds the topic central for his
æqui-vocality thesis: Subjectsive conditions seem necessary to both practical
and alethic considerations.
DESIRABILITY: If Urmson liked ‘probably,’ Grice liked ‘desirably.’
This theorem is a corollary of Jeffreys Desirability Axiom, which is: "If
prob XY = 0 For a prima facie PF(A V B) A (x E w)] = PFA A (x E w)] + PfB A
(x El+ w)]. This is Grices account of the pirots adaptability to its changeable
environs. Grice borrows the notion of probability from Davidson, whose
early claim to fame was to provide the logic of the notion. Grice
abbreviates probability by Pr. and compares it to a buletic operator Pf
(for prima facie) attached to De. for desirability. A rational agent must
calculate both the probability and the desirability of his action. For
both probability and desirability, the degree is crucial. Grice symbolises this
by d: probability in degree d; probability in degree d. The topic of life
Grice relates to that of adaptation and surival, and connects with his
genitorial programme of creature construction (pirotology.): life as continued
operancy. Grice was fascinated with life (Aristotle, bios) because bios is what
provides for Aristotle the definition (not by genus) of psyche. 1.
Prima-facie (p, !q) or Probably(A, p). 2. Pf (p1 and p2, !q) V pr (p1 and
p2, q). 3. Pf (p1 and p2 and p3 and p4, !q) V pr (p1 and p2 and p3 and p4,
p). 4. Pf (all things before me, !q) V Pr (all things before me,
q). 5. Pf (all things considered, !q) Pr (all things considered,
q). 6. !q|- q. 7. G wills !q G judges q. Strictly, Grice avoids using
the noun probability (other than for the title of this or that lecture). In his
Pirotese, one has to use the sentence-modifier probably. So the specific
correlative to the buletic prima facie is the doxastic probably.
id. Ep. 5, 6, 9: exceptio, quae prima facie justa videatur, at first
sight, Gai. Inst. 4, 1: prima facie, Dig. 16, 1, 13; Sen. Ep. 87, 1; id. Contr.
5, 10, 15.
HETEROLOGICAL: Grice and Thomson go heterological. Grice was
fascinated by Baron Russells remarks on heterological. And its
implicata! Grice was particularly interested in Russells philosophy
because of the usual Oxonian antipathy towards his type of
philosophising. Being an irreverent conservative rationalist, Grice found
in Russell a good point for dissent! If paradoxes were always sets of
propositions or arguments or conclusions, they would always be meaningful. But
some paradoxes are semantically flawed and some have answers that are backed by
a pseudo-argument employing a defective lemma that lacks a
truth-value. Grellings paradox, for instance, opens with a distinction
between autological and heterological words. An autological word describes
itself, e.g., polysyllabic is polysllabic, English is English, noun is a noun,
etc. A heterological word does not describe itself, e.g., monosyllabic is
not monosyllabic, Chinese is not Chinese, verb is not a verb, etc. Now for
the riddle: Is heterological heterological or autological? If
heterological is heterological, since it describes itself, it is
autological. But if heterological is autological, since it is a word that
does not describe itself, it is heterological. The common solution to this
puzzle is that heterological, as defined by Grelling, is not what Grice a
genuine predicate ‒ Gricing is!In other words, Is heterological
heterological? is without meaning. That does not mean that an utterer, such as
Baron Russell, may implicate that he is being very witty by uttering the
Grelling paradox! There can be no predicate that applies to all and only those
predicates it does not apply to for the same reason that there can be no barber
who shaves all and only those people who do not shave themselves. Grice
seems to be relying on his friend at Christ Church, Thomson in On Some Paradoxes,
in the same volume where Grice published his Remarks about the
senses, Analytical Philosophy, Butler (ed.), Blackwell, Oxford,
104–119. Grice thought that Thomson was a genius, if ever there is one!
Plus, Grice thought that, after St. Johns, Christ Church was the second most
beautiful venue in the city of dreaming spires. On top, it is what makes Oxford
a city, and not, as villagers call it, a town!
IMPLICATUM AND COMPLEXUM: Frege was the topic of Dummetts
explorations. A tutee of Grices once brought Dummetts Frege to a tutorial
and told Grice that he intended to explore this. Have you read it? No I
havent, Grice answered. And after a pause, he went on: And I hope I wont. Hardly
promising, the tutee thought. Some authors, including Grice, but alas, not
Frege, have noted some similarities between Grices notion of a conventional
implicature and Freges schematic and genial rambles on colouring. Aber Farbung,
as Frege would state! Grice was more interested in the idea of a Fregeian
sense, but he felt that if he had to play with Freges aber he should! One of
Grices metaphysical construction-routines, the Humeian projection, is aimed at
the generation of concepts, in most cases the rational reconstruction of an
intuitive concept displayed in ordinary discourse. We arrive at something
like a Fregeian sense! Grice exclaimed, with an intonation of Eureka! almost.
And then he went back to Frege. Grices German was good, so he could read Frege,
in the vernacular. For fun, he read Frege to his children (Grices, not Freges):
In einem obliquen Kontext, Frege says, Grice says, kann ja z. B. die Ersetzung
eines „aber durch ein „und, die in einem direkten Kontext keinen Unterschied
des Wahrheitswerts ergibt, einen solchen Unterschied bewirken. Ill make that
easy for you, darlings: und is and, and aber is but. But surely, Papa, aber is
not cognate with but! Its not. Thats Anglo-Saxon, for you. But is strictly
Anglo-Saxon short for by-out; we lost aber when we sailed the North Sea. Grice
went on: Damit wird eine Abgrenzung von Sinn und Färbung (oder Konnotationen)
eines Satzes fragwürdig. I. e. he is saying that She was poor but she was
honest only conventionally implicates that there is a contrast between her poverty
and her honesty. I guess he heard the ditty during the War? Grice ignored that
remark, and went on: Appell und Kundgabe wären ferner von Sinn und Färbung
genauer zu unterscheiden. Ich weiß so auf interessante Bedeutungs
Komponenten hin, bemüht sich aber nicht, sie genauer zu differenzieren, da er
letztlich nur betonen will, daß sie in der Sprache der Logik keine Rolle
spielen. They play a role in the lingo, that is! What do? Stuff like but. But
surely they are not rational conversational implicata!? No, dear, just
conventional tricks you can ignore on a nice summer day! Grice however was
never interested in what he dismissively labels the conventional implicatum. He
identifies it because he felt he must! Surely, the way some Oxonian
philosophers learn to use stuff like, on the one hand, and on the other, (or
how Grice learned how to use men and de in Grecian), or so, or therefore, or
but versus and, is just to allow that he would still use imply in such cases.
But surely he wants conversational to stick with rationality: conversational
maxim and converational implicatum only apply to things which can be justified
transcendentally, and not idiosyncrasies of usage! Grice follows Church in
noting that Russell misreads Frege as being guilty of ignoring the use-mention
distinction, when he doesnt. One thing that Grice minimises is that Freges
assertion sign is composite. Tha is why Baker prefers to use the dot . as the
doxastic correlative for the buletic sign ! which is NOT composite. The sign
„├‟ is composite. Frege explains his Urteilstrich, the vertical component of
his sign ├ as conveying assertoric force. The principal role of the horizontal
component as such is to prevent the appearance of assertoric force belonging to
a token of what does not express a thought (e.g. the expression 22). ─p
expresses a thought even if p does not.) cf. Hares four sub-atomic particles:
phrastic (dictum), neustic (dictor), tropic, and clistic. Cf. Grice on the
radix controversy: We dont want the . in p to become a vanishing sign! 1980.
Grices Frege, Frege, Words, and Sentences, : Frege, Farbung, aber. Frege was
one of Grices obsessions. A Fregeian sense is an explicatum, or implicitum, a
concession to get his principle of conversational helpfulness working in the
generation of conversational implicata, that can only mean progress for
philosophy! Fregeian senses are not to be multiplied beyond necessity. The
employment of the routine of Humeian projection may be expected to deliver for
us, as its result, a concept – the concept(ion) of value, say, in
something like a Fregeian sense, rather than an object. There is also a
strong affinity between Freges treatment of colouring (of the German particle
aber, say) and Grices idea of a convetional implicatum (She was poor, but she
was honest,/and her parents were the same,/till she met a city feller,/and she
lost her honest Names, as the vulgar Great War ditty went). Grice does not seem
interested in providing a philosophical exploration of conventional implicata,
and there is a reason for this. Conventional implicata are not essentially
connected, as conversational implicata are, with rationality. Conventional
implicata cannot be calculable. They have less of a philosophical interest,
too, in that they are not cancellable. Grice sees cancellability as a way to
prove some (contemporary to him, if dated) ordinary-language philosophers who
analyse an expression in terms of sense and entailment, where a cancellable
conversational implicatum is all there is (to it). He mentions Benjamin in Prolegomena, and is very careful in noting
how Benjamin misuses a Fregeian sense. In his Causal theory, Grice lists
another mistake: What is known to be the case is not believed to be the
case. Grice gives pretty few example of a conventional implicatum: therefore,
as in Jills utterance: Jack is an Englishman; he is, therefore,
brave. This is interesting because therefore compares to so which Strawson
, in P. G. R. I. C. E., claims is the asserted counterpart to if. But
Strawson was never associated with the type of linguistic botany that Grice
was. Grice also mentions the idiom, on the one hand/on the other hand, in some
detail in Retrospective Epilogue: My aunt was a nurse in the Great War; my
sister, on the other hand, lives on a peak at Darien. Grice thought that
Frege had misused the use-mention distinction but Russell corrected that. Grice
bases this on Alonzo Church. And of course he is obsessed with Freges assertion
sign, which Grice thinks has one stroke tooo many.
UNCERTAINTY: Grice loved the OED, and its entry for will was
his favourite. But he first had a look to shall. For Grice, "I shall
climb Mt. Everest," is surely a prediction. The OED has it as shall,
and defines as a common Teutonic preterite-present strong verb. In Old
English, it is sceal (sculon, sc(e)olde), and cognate with Old Frisian skil
(skel, scol, skilun, skalun, etc., skolde, sculde, etc.), Old Saxon skal
(skulun, skolda), Old Low Frankish sal (sulum, solde, yielding Middle Dutch sal
(sullen, solde) Dutch zal (zullen, zou), OHG. scal (sculun, scolta, also sal
(sol), sulun, solta (MHG. schal and schol, schulen, scholte, also sal and sol,
sulen, solte; G. soll (sollen, sollte), ONor. skal (skulu, skylda), yielding
Sw. skall, pa. t. skulle; Da. skal, pa. t. skulde), Goth. skal (skulum,
skulda). The Teutonic root, hypothetical skel-, from skal, skul-, to owe (c.
Hares OUGHT) from pre-Teutonic skel-: skol-: skl) is represented by Gothic
skula, OHG., OS. scolo, OE. escola, wk. masc., a debtor, OHG. sculd, sculda (G.
schuld), OS. sculd, OE. scyld, fem., debt, guilt. Outside Teutonic, the only
certain cognates are Lith. skeleti to be guilty, skìlti to get into debt, skolà
debt, guilt, OPrussian skallisnan (acc.) duty, skellânts guilty, poskulit to
admonish. The northern English dialects (including Scots) have a form
"sal", pa. t. "suld", with initial s instead of sh. This
does not occur in the remains of Old Northumbrian, but first appears in the 13th
c. It is remarkable that a similar form, with "s-" irregularly
representing OTeutonic "sk," existed as a dialectal variant in OHG.
(sal, sol, sulun) and Old Frisian (sal, sel), and has ousted the regular form
in Ger. (soll, sollen) and Dutch (zal, zou). Some scholars regard the s- form
as representing an Old Teutonic variant, originating from the euphonic dropping
of k in inflexional forms like the subjunctive *skli¯-. It seems more probable
that it was independently developed in the different dialects at an early
period, while the sk- retained its original pronunciation. In stressless
position, the k might naturally be dropped, and the simplified initial
afterwards extended by analogy to the stressed use. Shall has no infinitive or
participles. The evidence of an Old English infinitive sculan (sceolan) is
doubtful. Some of the other Teutonic languages do have an infinitive: OHG.
scolan, solan (MHG., mod.G. sollen), MDutch sullen (Dutch zullen), ONor. skulu
(pa. t. inf. skyldu); Gothic has the present participle skuland-s and the past
participle skuld-s; OHG. has the present participle scolanti (mod.G. sollend),
and early G. the pa. pple. gesollt; ONor. has a ppl. adj. skyld-r bound by
duty.] Grice was willing to see what Murray thought about signification and
uses. Usage I Usage No. 1: to owe (money). 1425 Hoccleve Min. Poems xxiii. 695
The leeste ferthyng þat y men shal. To owe (allegiance). 1649 And by that feyth
I shal to god and yow. II Followed by an infinitive, without to. Except for a
few instances of shall will, shall may (mowe), "shall conne" in the
15th c., the infinitive after shall is always either that of a principal verb
or of have or be. 1 The present tense shall. Usage No. 2: in general statements
of what is right or becoming, = ought. Superseded by the past subjunctive
should. In OE. the subjunctive present sometimes occurs in this use (e.g. c 888
in A. 4). 1460 Fortescue Abs. and Lim. Mon. The king shall often times send his
judges to punish rioters and risers. 1562 Legh Armory 149 Whether are Roundells
of all suche coloures, as ye haue spoken of here before? or shall they be Namesd
Roundelles of those coloures? Usage No. 3: a In OE. and occas. in Middle
English used to express necessity of various kinds. For the many shades of
meaning in Old English see Bosworth and Toller), = must, "must
needs", "have to", "am compelled to", etc. b In
stating a necessary condition: = `will have to, `must (if something else is to
happen). 1596 Shaks. Merch. V. i. i. 116 You shall seeke all day ere you finde
them, & when you haue them they are not worth the search. 1605 Shaks.
Lear v. iii. 22 He that parts vs, shall bring a Brand from Heauen. c In
hypothetical clause, accompanying the statement of a necessary condition: = `is
to. 1612 Bacon Ess., Greatn. Kingd. (Arb.) 482 Neither must they be too much
broken of it, if they shall be preserued in vigor. 4 Indicating what is
appointed or settled to take place = the mod. `is to, `am to, etc. 1600 Shaks.
A.Y.L. ii. iv. 89 What is he that shall buy his flocke and pasture? 1625 in Ellis
Orig. Lett. Ser. i. III. 199 "Tomorrow His Majesty will be present to begin the Parliament which is thought
shall be removed to Oxford. Usage No. 5: in commands or instructions. a (a). In
the *second* person, shall is EQUIVALENT TO AN IMPERATIVE. Chiefly in Biblical
language, of divine commandments, rendering the jussive future of the Hebrew
and Vulgate. In Old English the imperative mode is used in the ten
commandments. 1382 Wyclif Exod. xx. 7 Thow shalt not tak the Names of the Lord
thi God in veyn. So Coverdale, etc. b) In expositions: you shall understand,
etc. (that). c) In the formula you shall excuse (pardon) me. (now
"must"). 1595 Shaks. John v. ii. 78 Your Grace shall pardon me, I
will not backe. 1630 R. Johnsons Kingd. and Commw. 191 You shall excuse me, for
I eat no flesh on Fridayes. b In the *third* person. 1744 in Atkyns Chanc.
Cases (1782) III. 166 The words shall and may in general acts of parliament, or
in private constitutions, ARE TO BE CONSTRUED IMPERATIVELY, they must remove
them. Usage No. 6: in the *second* *and* *third* persons, expressing the
[Griceian] utterer determination to bring about some action, event, or state of
things in the future, or (occasionally) to refrain from hindering what is
otherwise certain to take place, or is intended by another person. a In the
second person. 1891 J. S. Winter Lumley xi: If you would rather not stay then,
you shall go down to South Kensington Square then. b In third person. 1591
Shaks. Two Gent. v. iv. 129 Verona shall not hold thee. 1604 Shaks. Oth. v. ii.
334 If there be any cunning Crueltie, That can torment him much,..It shall be
his. 1891 J. S. Winter Lumley xiv, `Oh, yes, sir, she shall come back, said the
nurse. `Ill take care of that. `I will come back, said Vere. Usage No. 7:
in special interrogative uses, a) in the *first* person, used in questions to
which the expected answer is a command, direction, or counsel, or a resolve on
the speakers own part. a) in questions introduced by an interrogative pronoun
(in oblique case), adverb, or adverbial phrase. 1600 Fairfax Tasso viii. lxix,
What shall we doe? shall we be gouernd still, By this false hand? 1865 Kingsley
Herew. xxxiii, Where shall we stow the mare? b) in categorical questions, often
expressing indignant reprobation of a suggested course of action, the
implication (or implicature, or entailment) being that only a negative (or,
with negative question an affirmative) answer is conceivable. 1611 Shaks. Wint.
T. v. iii. 83 Shall I draw the Curtaine? 1802 Wordsw. To the Cuckoo i, O Cuckoo!
shall I call thee Bird, Or but a wandering Voice? 1891 J. S. Winter Lumley
xiii, `Are you driving, or shall I call you a cab? `Oh, no; Im driving, thanks.
c) In *ironical* affirmative in exclamatory sentence, equivalent to the above
interrogative use, cf. Ger. soll. 1741 Richardson Pamela (1742) III. 89. A
pretty thing truly! Here I, a poor helpless Girl, raised from Poverty and
Distress,..shall put on Lady-airs to a Gentlewoman born. d) to stand shall I,
shall I (later shill I, shall I: v. shilly-shally), to be at shall I, shall I
(not): to be vacillating, to shilly-shally. 1674 R. Godfrey Inj. and Ab. Physic
85 Such Medicines..that will not stand shall I? shall I? but will fall to work
on the Disease presently. b Similarly in the *third* person, where the Subjects
represents or includes the utterer, or when the utterer is placing himself at
anothers point of view. 1610 Shaks. Temp. v. i. 22: Hast thou (which art but
aire) a touch, a feeling Of their afflictions, and shall not my selfe, One of
their kinde,..be kindlier moud then thou art? c In the *second* and *third*
person, where the expected answer is a decision on the part of the utterer or
of some person OTHER than the Subjects. The question often serves as an
impassioned repudiation of a suggestion (or implicature) that something shall
be permitted. 1450 Merlin i. 14: `What
shal be his Names? `I will, quod she, `that it haue Names after my fader. 1600
Shaks. A.Y.L. iv. ii. 11 What shall he haue that kild the Deare? 1737 Alexander
Pope, translating Horaces Epistle, i. i. 97 And say, to which shall our
applause belong, this new court jargon, or the good old song? 1812 Crabbe Tales
xviii: Shall a wife complain? d In indirect question. 1865 Kingsley Herew. x:
Let her say what shall be done with it. Usage No. 8: as A MERE AUXILIARY,
forming, with present infinitive, the FUTURE, and (with perfect
infinitive) the future perfect tense. In Old English, the notion of the future
tense is ordinarily expressed by the present tense. To prevent ambiguity, wile
(will) is not unfrequently used as a future auxiliary, sometimes retaining NO
TRACE OF ITS initial usage, connected with the faculty of volition, and cognate
indeed with volition. On the other hand, sceal (shall), even when rendering a
Latin future, can hardly be said to have been ever a MERE future tense-sign in
Old English. IT ALWAYS EXPRESSED SOMETHING OF ITS ORIGINAL NOTION OF OBLIGATION
OR NECESSITY, so Hampshire is wrong in saying I shall climb Mt. Everest is
PREDICTABLE. In Middle English, the present early ceases to be commonly
employed in futural usage, and the future is expressed by shall or will,
the former being much more common. The usage as to THE CHOICE between the two
auxiliaries, shall and will, has varied from time to time. Since the middle of
the seventeenth century, with Wallis, MERE predictable FUTURITY is expressed in
the *first* person by shall, in the second and third by will, and vice versa.
In oratio obliqua, usage allows either the retention of the auxiliary actually
used by the original utterer, or the substitution of that which is appropriate
to the point of view of the uttering reporting. a In Old English, sceal,
while retaining its primary usage, serves as a tense-sign in announcing a
future event as FATED or divinely decreed, cf. Those spots mean measle. Hence
shall has always been the auxiliary used, in all persons, for prophetic or
oracular announcements of the future, and for solemn ASSERTIONS OF THE
CERTAINTY OF A FUTURE EVENT. 1577 in Allen Martyrdom Campion (1908) 110 ;The queene
neither ever was, nor is, nor ever shall be the head of the Church of England.
1601 Shaks. Jul. C. iii. i. 262 Now do I Prophesie..A Curse shall light vpon
the limbes of men. b In the first person, "shall" has, from the early
ME. period, been the normal auxiliary for expressing MERE FUTURITY, without any
adventitious notion. (a) Of events conceived as INDEPENDENT OF THE UTTERERS
VOLITION. To use will in these cases is now a mark of, not
public-school-educated Oxonian, but Scottish, Irish, provincial, or
extra-British idiom. 1595 in Cath. Rec. Soc. Publ. V. 357 My frend, yow and I
shall play no more at Tables now. 1605 Shaks. Macb. i. i. 1 When shall we three
meet againe? 1613 Shaks. Hen. VIII, i. iv. 44 Then wee shall haue em, Talke vs
to silence. 1852 Mrs. Stowe Uncle Toms C. xvii, `But what if you dont hit? `I
shall hit, said George coolly. (b) Of voluntary action or its intended result.
Here I shall or we shall is always admissible except where the notion of a
present, as distinguished from a previous, DECISION OR CONSENT is to be
expressed, IN WHICH CASE will SHALL BE USED. Further, I shall often expresses a
determination insisted on in spite of opposition. In the 16th c. and earlier, I
shall often occurs where I will would now be used. 1559 W. Cunningham Cosmogr.
Glasse 91 This now shall I alway kepe surely in memorye. 1601 Shaks. Alls Well
v. iii. 27: Informe him So tis our will he should.-I shall my liege. 1885
Ruskin On Old Road II. 57 note: Henceforward
I shall continue to spell `Ryme without our wrongly added h. c In the
*second* person, shall as a MERE FUTURE AUXILIARY appears never to have been
usual, but in categorical questions it is normal, e.g. Shall you miss your
train? I am afraid you will. d In the *third* person, superseded by will, except
when anothers statement or expectation respecting himself is reported in the
third person, e.g. He conveys that he shall not have time to write. Even in
this case will is still not uncommon, but in some contexts LEADS TO serious
AMBIGUITY. IT might be THEREFORE PREFERABLE, to some, TO USE he shall AS THE
INDIRECT RENDERING OF I shall. 1489 Caxton Sonnes of Aymon ii. 64 Yf your fader
come agayn from the courte, he shall wyll yelde you to the kynge Charlemayne.
1799 J. Robertson Agric. Perth 361 The effect of the statute labour has always been, now is, and probably shall
continue to be, less productive than it might. ¶e. Down to the eighteenth
century, shall, the auxiliary appropriate to the *first* person, is sometimes
used when the utterer refers to himself in the third person. Cf. the formula:
`And your petitioner shall ever pray. 1798 Kemble Let. in Pearsons Catal.
(1900) 45: Mr. Kemble presents his respectful compliments to the Proprietors of
the `Monthly Mirror, and shall have great pleasure at being at all able to aid
them. f In negative (or virtually negative) and interrogative use, shall often
= will be able to. 1600 Shaks. Sonn. lxv: How with this rage shall beautie hold
a plea. g) Used after a hypothetical clause or an imperative sentence in a statementsof
a result to be expected from some action or occurrence. Now (exc. in the
*first* person) usually replaced by will. But shall survives in literary use.
1851 Dasent Jest and Earnest (1873) II. 140 Visit Rome and you shall find him
[the Pope] mere carrion. h) In clause expressing the object of a promise, or of
an expectation accompanied by hope or fear, now only where shall is the
ordinary future auxiliary, but down to the nineteenth century shall is often
preferred to will in the *second* and *third* persons. 1628 in Ellis Orig.
Lett. Ser. i. III. 266: He is confident that the blood of Christ shall wash
away..his..sins. 1654 E. Nicholas in N. Papers (Camden) II. 142: I hope neither
your Cosen Wat. Montagu nor Walsingham
shall be permitted to discourse
with the D. of Gloucester. i) in
impersonal phrases, "it shall be well, needful", etc. (to do so and
so). (now "will"). j) shall be, added to a future date in clauses
measuring time. 1617 Sir T. Wentworth in Fortescue Papers 25: To which purpose
my late Lord Chancelour gave his direction about the 3. of Decembre
shallbe-two-yeares. Usage No. 9: in the idiomatic use of the future to denote
what ordinarily or occasionally occurs under specified conditions, shall was
formerly the usual auxiliary. In the *second* and *third* persons, this is now
somewhat formal or rhetorical. Ordinary language substitutes will or may. Often
in antithetic statements coupled by an adversative conjunction or by and with
adversative force. a in the first person. 1712 Steele Spect. No. 326 p.2 In
spite of all my Care, I shall every now and then have a saucy Rascal ride by
reconnoitring under my Windows. b) in
the *second* person. 1852 Spencer Ess. (1858) 414 After knowing him for years, you
shall suddenly discover that your friends nose is slightly awry. c) in the
*third* person. 1793 W. Roberts Looker-On (1794) III. 179: One man shall
approve the same thing that another man
shall condemn. 1870 M. Arnold St. Paul and Prot. 2: It may well happen that a
man who lives and thrives under a monarchy shall yet theoretically disapprove
the principle of monarchy. Usage No. 10: in hypothetical, relative, and
temporal clauses denoting a future contingency, the future auxiliary is shall
for all persons alike. Where no ambiguity results, however, the present tense
is commonly used for the future, and the perfect for the future-perfect. The
use of shall, when not required for clearness, is, Grice grants, apt to sound
pedantic by non Oxonians. Formerly sometimes used to express the sense of a present
subjunctive. a) in hypothetical clauses. (shall I = if I shall) 1680 New
Hampsh. Prov. Papers (1867) I. 388: If any Christian shall speak contempteously of the Holy
Scriptures, such person shall be punished. b) in relative clauses,
where the antecedent denotes an as yet undetermined person or thing: 1811
Southey Let. to G. C. Bedford 16 Feb: The minister who shall first become a
believer in that book will obtain a
higher reputation than ever statesman did before him. 1874 R. Congreve Ess.
417: We extend our sympathies to the
unborn generations which shall follow us
on this earth. c) in temporal clauses: 1830 Laws of Cricket in Nyren Yng.
Cricketers Tutor (1902) 20: ;If in striking, or at any other time, while the
ball shall be in play, both his feet be over the popping-crease. Usage No. 11:
in clauses expressing the purposed result of some action, or the object of a
desire, intention, command, or request, often admitting of being replaced by
may. In Old English, and occasionally as late as the seventeenth century, the
present subjunctive was used exactly as in Latin. a) in final clause usually
introduced by that. In this use modern idiom prefers should (22 a): see quot.
1611 below, and the appended remarks. 1879 M. Pattison Milton xiii. 167: At the
age of nine and twenty, Milton has already determined that this lifework shall
be an epic poem. b in relative clause:
1599 Shaks. Hen. V, ii. iv. 40: As Gardeners doe with Ordure hide those Roots
That shall first spring. The choice between should and would follows the same
as shall and will as future auxiliaries, except that should must sometimes be
avoided on account of liability to be misinterpreted as = `ought to. In present
usage, should occurs mainly in the first person. In the other persons it follows
the use of shall. III Elliptical and quasi-elliptical uses. Usage No. 24: with
ellipsis of verb of motion: = `shall go. Now arch. The use is common in OHG.
and OS., and in later HG., LG., and Du. In the mod. Scandinavian languages it
is also common, and instances occur in MSw.] 1596 Shaks. 1 Hen. IV, iv. i. 37:
That with our small coniunction we should on. 1598 Shaks. Merry W. iii. v. 14:
If the bottome were as deepe as hell, I shold down. Usage No. 25: in questions,
what shall = `what shall (it) profit, `what good shall (I) do. Usage No. 26:
with the sense `is due, `is proper, `is to be given or applied. Cf. G. soll.
Usage No. 27: a) with ellipsis of active infinitive to be supplied from the
context. 1892 Mrs. H. Ward David Grieve iv. ii, `No, indeed, I havnt got all I
want, said Lucy `I never shall, neither. b) Phrase, if I shall. Now dial. 1390
Gower Conf. II. 96: Doun knelende on mi kne I take leve, and if I schal, I
kisse hire. 1390 Gower Conf., II. 96: I wolde kisse hire eftsones if I scholde.
1871 Earle Philol. Engl. Tongue 203: The familiar proposal to carry a
basket, I will if I shall, that is, I am
willing if you will command me; I will if so required. 1886 W. Somerset
Word-bk. s.v.: Ill warn our Tomll do it vor ee, nif he shall-i.e. if you wish.
c) with generalized ellipsis in proverbial phrase: needs must that needs shall
= `he must whom fate compels. Usage No. 28: a) with ellipsis of do (not
occurring in the context). 1477 Norton Ord. Alch. in Ashm. (1652) 5: O King
that shall These Workes! b) the place of the inf. is sometimes supplied by that
or so placed at the beginning of the sentence. The construction may be regarded
as an ellipsis of "do". It is distinct from the use (belonging to 27)
in which so has the sense of `thus, `likewise, or `also. In the latter there is
usually inversion, as so shall I. 1888 J. S. Winter Bootles Childr. iv: I
should like to see her now shes grown up. `So you shall. Usage No. 29: with
ellipsis of be or passive inf., or with so in place of this (where the preceding
context has is, was, etc.). 1615 J. Chamberlain in Crt. andTimes Jas. I (1848)
I. 362: He is not yet executed, nor I hear not when he shall. Surely he may not
will that he be executed. And then Grice turns to the auxiliary he prefers,
will. The OED has will, would. It is traced to Old English willan, pres.t.
wille, willaþ, pa. t. wolde, Anglian walde. It is deemed cognate with Old
Frisian willa (wille, wilde, wolde), Old Saxon willian, williu, williad, wolda,
Middle Low German willen, Middle Dutch willen, wilde, Old Norse vilja, vil,
vilda, viljat (Swedish vilja, ville, Danish ville, vilde), Gothic wiljan,
wiljau, wilda, all from Old Teutonic hypothetical wel(l)jan, parallel with Old
Teutonic hypothetical *wal(l)jan, whence Old Frisian wella, welde, Old Saxon
wellian, welda, Middle Low German wellen, Old High German wellen, well,
wellemes, etc., welta, wolta (Middle High German wellen, wollen, wöllen, welte,
wolte, gewellt, German wollen, will, wollen, wollte, gewollt), Old Norse velja,
vel, valði, valiðr (Swedish välja, Danish vælge) to choose, (see wele v.),
Gothic waljan to choose; for other Teutonic derivatives v. will, sb.1, will,
v.2, wale, sb.2 choice, well, adv.: from Indo-European wel-: wol-: wl-,
represented by Latin velle, volo, (velim, volui), Lith. ve~lyju, ve~lyti to
wish, pa-velmi to allow, viltis hope, OSl. veleti to command, voliti to will,
choose, volja will, W. gwell better, Skr. várati chooses, wishes, prefers,
vára- wish, choice, váram better, vr&dotbl.n&dotbl.ati wishes,
prefers. The most remarkable feature of this vb., besides its many idiomatic
and phrasal uses, is its employment as a regular AUXILIARY of the FUTURE TENSE,
which goes back to the Old English period, and may be paralleled in other
Germanic languages, e.g. Middle High German. In some uses it is not always
possible to distinguish this vb. from will, v.2]. Grice was especially
interested to check Jamess and Prichards use of willing that, Prichards shall
will and the will/shall distinction. Signification and uses. Usage No. I: The
present tense will. Usage No. 1 Transitive uses, with simple obj. or obj.
clause; occas. intr. 1 trans. with simple obj.: desire, wish for, have a mind
to, `want (something); sometimes implying also `intend, purpose. 1601 Shaks.
(title) Twelfe Night, Or what you will. 1654 Whitlock Zootomia 44 Will what
befalleth, and befall what will. 1734 tr. Rollins Anc. Hist. V. 31 He that can
do what ever he will is in great danger of willing what he ought not. b intr.
with well or ill, or trans. with sbs. of similar meaning (e.g. good, health),
usually with dat. of person: Wish (or intend) well or ill (to some one), feel
or cherish good-will or ill-will. Obs. (cf. will v.2 1 b). See also
well-willing a. d to will well that: to be willing that. 1483 Caxton Gold. Leg.
166/1, I wyl wel that thou say, and yf thou say ony good, thou shalt be pesybly
herde. Usage No. 2: trans. with obj. clause (with vb. in pres. subj., or in
periphrastic form with should), or acc. and inf.: Desire, wish; sometimes
implying also `intend, purpose (that something be done or happen). 1548 Hutten
Sum of Diuinitie K viij, God wylle all men to be saued. Usage No. 3: Denoting
expression (usually authoritative) of a wish or intention: Determine, decree,
ordain, enjoin, give order (that something be done). 1528 Cromwell in Merriman
Life and Lett. (1902) I. 320 His grace then wille that thellection of a new
Dean shalbe emonges them of the colledge. b spec. in a direction or instruction
in ones will or testament; hence, to direct by will (that something be done).
1820 Giffords Compl. Engl. Lawyer 672, I..do hereby will and direct that my
executrix..do excuse and release the said sum of 100l. to him. c figurative
usage. of an abstract thing (e.g. reason, law): Demands, requires. 1597 Shaks.
2 Hen. IV, iv. i. 157 Our Battaile is more full of Namess then yours Then
Reason will, our hearts should be as good. Usage No. 4 transf. (from 2).
Intends to express, means; affirms, maintains. 1602 Dolman La Primaud. Fr.
Acad. (1618) III. 662 Hee will that this authority should be for a principle of
demonstration. 2 With dependent infinitive (normally without "to").
Usage No. 5 Desire to, wish to, have a mind to (do something); often also
implying intention. 1697 Ctess DAunoys Trav. (1706) 149, I will not write to
you often, because I will always have a stock of News to tell you, which..is
pretty long in picking up. 1704 Locke Hum. Und. i. iv. §8 The great Encomiasts
of the Chineses, do all to a man agree and will convince us that the Sect of
the Literati..are..Atheists. 6 In relation to anothers desire or requirement,
or to an obligation of some kind: Am (is, are) disposed or willing to, consent
to; †in early use sometimes = deign or condescend to.With the (rare and obs.)
imper. use, as in quot. 1490, cf. b and the corresponding negative use in 12 b.
1921 Times Lit. Suppl. 10 Feb. 88/3 Literature thrives where people will read
what they do not agree with, if it is good. b In 2nd person, interrog., or in a
dependent clause after beg or the like, expressing a request (usually
courteous; with emphasis, impatient). 1599 Shaks. Hen. V, ii. i. 47 Will you
shogge off? 1605 1878 Hardy Ret. Native v. iii, O, O, O,..O, will you have
done! Usage No. 7 Expressing voluntary action, or conscious intention directed
to the doing of what is expressed by the principal verb (without temporal
reference as in 11, and without emphasis as in 10): = choose to (choose v. B. 3
a). The proper word for this idea, which cannot be so precisely expressed by
any other. 1685 Baxter Paraphr. N.T. Matt. ix. 25 When God will tell us we
shall know. Usage No. 8 Expressing natural disposition to do something, and
hence habitual action: Has the habit, or `a way, of --ing; is addicted or
accustomed to --ing; habitually does; sometimes connoting `may be expected to
(cf. 15). 1865 Ruskin Sesame ii. §91 Men, by their nature, are prone to fight;
they will fight for any cause, or for none. Usage No. 9 Expressing
potentiality, capacity, or sufficiency: Can, may, is able to, is capable of
--ing; is (large) enough or sufficient to.†it will not be: it cannot be done or
brought to pass; it is all in vain. So, †will it not be? 1833 N. Arnott Physics
(ed. 5) I. 597 The heart will beat after removal from the body. Usage No. 10 As
a strengthening of sense 7, expressing determination, persistence, and the like
(without temporal reference as in 11). a Purposes to, is determined to. 1539
Bible (Great) Isa. lxvi. 6, I heare ye voyce of the Lorde, that wyll rewarde,
& recompence his enemyes. b emphatically. Is fully determined to;
insists on or persists in --ing: sometimes with mixture of sense 8. (In 1st
pers. with implication of futurity, as a strengthening of sense 11 a.) Also
fig. = must inevitably, is sure to. 1892 E. Reeves Homeward Bound viii. 239, I
have spent 6,000 francs to come here..and I will see it! c In phr. of ironical
or critical force referring to anothers assertion or opinion. Now arch. exc. in
will have it (see have v. B. 13 b). 1591 Shaks. 1 Hen. VI, ii. iii. 58 This is
a Riddling Merchant for the nonce, He will be here, and yet he is not here.
1728 Chambers Cycl. s.v. Honey, Some naturalists will have honey to be of a
different quality, according to the difference of the flowers..the bees suck it
from. 11 As AUXILIARY OF THE FUTURE TENSE WITH IMPLICATION (entailment rather
than cancellable implicatum) OF INTENTION (THUS DISTINGUISHED FROM SHALL, v. B.
8, where see note). a In 1st person: sometimes in slightly stronger sense =
intend to, mean to. 1600 Shaks. A.Y.L. v. iii. 2 To morrow will we be married. 1607
Shaks. Cor. v. iii. 127 Ile run away Till I am bigger, but then Ile fight. 1777
Clara Reeve Champion of Virtue 55 Never fear it..I will speak to Joseph about
it. b In 2nd and 3rd pers., in questions or indirect statements. 1839 Lane
Arab. Nts. I. ii. 85, I will cure thee without giving thee to drink any potion
When King Yoonán heard his words, he..said.., How wilt thou do this? c will do
(with omission of "I"): an expression of willingness to carry out a
request. Cf. wilco. colloq. 1967 L. White Crimshaw Memorandum v. 91 `And find
out where the bastard was `Will do, Jim said. 13 In 1st pers., expressing
immediate intention: "I will" = `I am now going to, `I proceed at
once to. 1885 Mrs. Alexander At Bay iii, Very well; I will wish you good-evening.
b In 1st pers. pl., expressing a proposal: we will (†wule we) = `let us. 1798
Coleridge Nightingale 4 Come, we will rest on this old mossy bridge!, c
FIGURATIVE, as in It will rain, (in 3rd pers.) of a thing: Is ready to, is on
the point of --ing. 1225 Ancr. R. 254 A treou þet wule uallen, me underset hit
mid on oðer treou. 14 In 2nd and 3rd pers., as auxiliary EXPESSING MERE
FUTURITY, forming (with pres. inf.) the future, and (with pf. inf.) the future
pf. tense: corresponding to "shall" in the 1st pers. (see note s.v.
shall v. B. 8). 1847 Tennyson Princess iii. 12 Rest, rest, on mothers breast,
Father will come to thee soon. b As auxiliary of future substituted for the
imper. in mild injunctions or requests. 1876 Ruskin St. Marks Rest. i. §7 That
they should use their own balances, weights, and measures; (not by any means
false ones, you will please to observe). 15 As auxiliary of future expressing a
contingent event, or a result to be expected, in a supposed case or under
particular conditions (with the condition expressed by a conditional, temporal,
or imper. clause, or otherwise implied). 1861 M. Pattison Ess. (1889) I. 46 The
lover of the Elizabethan drama will readily recal many such allusions. b With
pers. Subjects (usually 1st pers. sing.), expressing a voluntary act or choice
in a supposed case, or a conditional promise or undertaking: esp. in
asseverations (e.g. I will die sooner than, Ill be hanged if, etc.). 1898 H. S.
Merriman Rodens Corner xiii. 138 But I will be hanged if I see what it all
means, now. c Expressing a determinate or necessary consequence (without the
notion of futurity). 1887 Fowler Deductive Logic (ed. 9) 47 From what has been
said it will be seen that I do not agree with Mr. Mill. Mod. If, in a
syllogism, the middle term be not distributed in either premiss, there will be
no conclusion. d With the notion of futurity obscured or lost: = will prove or
turn out to, will be found on inquiry to; may be supposed to, presumably does.
Hence (chiefly Sc. and north. dial.) in estimates of amount, or in uncertain or
approximate statements, the future becoming equivalent to a present with
qualification: e.g. it will be = `I think it is or `it is about; what will that
be? = `what do you think that is? 1584 Hornby Priory in Craven Gloss. (1828), Where
on 40 Acres there will be xiij.s. iv.d. per acre yerely for rent. 1791 Grose
Olio (1792) 106, I believe he will be an Irishman. 1791 Grose Olio 107 C. How
far is it to Dumfries? W. It will be twenty miles. 1812 Brackenridge Views
Louisiana (1814) 156 The agriculture of this territory will be very similar to
that of Kentucky. 1876 Whitby Gloss. s.v. Biddels, This word we have only once
heard, and that will be twenty years ago. 16 Used where "shall" is
now the normal auxiliary, chiefly in expressing mere futurity: since 17th c.
almost exclusively in Scottish, Irish, provincial, or extra-British use (see
shall v. B. 7, 8, 10). 1602 Shaks. Ham. v. ii. 184, I will win for him if I
can: if not, Ile gaine nothing but my shame, and the odde hits. 1825 Scott in Lockhart
Ballantyne-humbug (1839) 99, I expect we will have some good singing. 1875 E.
H. Dering Sherborne xxxix, `Will I start, sir? asked the Irish groom. Usage No.
3 Elliptical and quasi-elliptical uses. Usage No. 17 In absol. use, or with
ellipsis of obj. clause as in 2: in meaning corresponding to senses 5-7.if you
will is sometimes used parenthetically to qualify a word or phrase: = `if you
wish it to be so called, `if you choose or prefer to call it so. 1696 Whiston
The. Earth iv. i. §2. 218 Gravity..depends entirely on the constant and
efficacious, and, if you will, the supernatural and miraculous Influence of
Almighty God. 1876 Ruskin St. Marks Rest vii. §78 Very savage! monstrous! if
you will. b In parenthetic phr. if God will (†also will God, rarely God will),
God willing: if it be the will of God, `D.V.In OE. Gode willi&asg.ende
(will v.2) = L. Deo volente. 1716 Strype in Thoresbys Lett. (1832) II. 368 Next
week, God willing, I take my journey to my Rectory in Sussex. c fig. Demands,
requires (absol. or ellipt. use of 3 c). 1511 Reg. Privy Seal Scot. I. 345/1
That na seculare personis have intrometting with thaim uther wais than law
will. d Phr. I will well: I assent, `I should think so indeed. (Cf. F. je veux
bien.) Usage No. 18: with ellipsis of a vb. of motion. 1885 Bridges Eros
& Psyche Aug. xviii, I will to thee oer the stream afloat. Usage No.
19: with ellipsis of active inf. to be supplied from the context. 1836 Dickens
Sk. Boz, Steam Excurs., `Will you go on deck? `No, I will not. This was said
with a most determined air. 1853 Dickens Bleak Ho. lii, I cant believe it. Its
not that I dont or I wont. I cant! 1885 Mrs. Alexander Valeries Fate vi, `Do
you know that all the people in the house will think it very shocking of me to
walk with you?.. `The deuce they will! b With generalized ellipsis, esp. in
proverbial saying (now usually as in quot. 1562, with will for would). 1639 J.
Clarke Paroem. 237 He that may and will not, when he would he shall not. c With
so or that substituted for the omitted inf. phr.: now usually placed at the
beginning of the sentence. 1596 Shaks. Tam. Shr. i. ii. 215 Hor. I promist we
would..beare his charge of wooing Gremio. And so we wil. d Idiomatically used
in a qualifying phr. with relative, equivalent to a phr. with indef. relative
in -ever; often with a thing as subj., becoming a mere synonym of may: e.g.
shout as loud as you will = `however loud you (choose to) shout; come what will
= `whatever may come; be that as it will = `however that may be. 1732 Pope Mor.
Ess. iii. 153 The ruling Passion, be it what it will, The ruling Passion
conquers Reason still. 20 With ellipsis of pass. inf. A. 1774 Goldsm. Surv.
Exp. Philos. (1776) II. 145 The airs force is compounded of its swiftness and
density, and as these are encreased, so will the force of the wind. Usage No.
21: in const. where the ellipsis may be either of an obj. clause (as in 17) or
of an inf. (as in 19). a In a disjunctive qualifying clause or phr. (usually
parenthetic), as whether he will or no, will he or not, †(with pron. omitted)
will or no, (with or omitted) will he will he not, will he nill he (see VI.
below and willy-nilly), etc.In quot. 1592 vaguely = `one way or another, `in
any case. For the distinction between should and would, v. note s.v. shall, v.
B . Usage No. 19 b. 46 In a noun-clause expressing the object of desire,
advice, or request.Usually with a person as subj., implying voluntary action as
the desired end: thus distinguished from should, which may be used when the
persons will is not in view. Also (almost always after wish) with a thing as Subjects,
in which case should can never be substituted because it would suggest the idea
of command or compulsion instead of mere desire. Cf. shall v. B. 22 a.
will. v.2 Pres. t. 2 sing. willest, 3 sing. willeth (arch.), wills; pa. t. and
pple. willed (wIld). Forms: 1 willian, 3-4 willi, 3-6 wyll, 5-6 wille, 5-7 wil,
5- will. Pa. t. 1 willode, -ade, 3 will-, wyllede, 3-6 wylled, 4 willyd, 5
-ied, Sc. -it, 5-6 -id, 3- willed; 4 wijld, 4-6 wilde, 6 wild. Pa. pple. 5
willid, -yd, 5-6 wylled, 6 willet, 6- willed; 6 willd(e, 6-7 wild. [OE. willian
wk. vb. = OHG. willôn (MHG., G. willen, pa. pple. gewillt): f. will sb.1] 1
trans. To wish, desire; sometimes with implication of intention: = will v.1 1,
2, 5. 1400 Lat. & Eng. Prov. (MS. Douce 52) lf. 13 He þt a lytul me
3euyth to me wyllyth [optat] longe lyffe. 1548 Udall, etc. Erasm. Par. Matt. v.
21-24 Who so euer hath gotten to hymselfe the charitie of the gospell, whyche
wylleth wel to them that wylleth yll. 1581 A. Hall Iliad v. 87 By Mineruas
helpe, who willes you all the ill she may. A. 1875 Tennyson Q. Mary i. iv, A
great party in the state Wills me to wed her. b To assert, affirm: = will v.1
B. 4. 1614 Selden Titles Hon. 134 None of this excludes Vnction before, but
only wils him the first annointed by the Pope. 2 a To direct by ones will or
testament (that something be done, or something to be done). b To dispose of by
will; to bequeath or devise. 3 To determine by the will; to attempt to cause, aim
at effecting by exercise of will; to set the mind with conscious intention to
the performance or occurrence of something; to choose or decide to do
something, or that something shall be done or happen.Const. with simple obj.,
acc. and inf., simple inf. (now always with to), or obj. clause; also absol. or
intr. (with as or so). Nearly coinciding in meaning with will v.1 7, but with
more explicit reference to the mental process of volition. 1630 Prynne
Anti-Armin. 119 He had onely a power, not to fall into sinne vnlesse he willed
it. 1667 Milton P.L. viii. 549 So absolute she seems..that what she wills to do
or say, Seems wisest. 1710 J. Clarke tr. Rohaults Nat. Philos. (1729) I. 11 If
I will to move my Arm, it is presently moved. 1712 Berkeley Pass. Obed. §11 He
that willeth the end, doth will the necessary means conducive to that end. 1837
Carlyle Fr. Rev. i. v. v, All shall be as God wills. 1880 Meredith Tragic Com.
vi, So great,..heroical, giant-like, that what he wills must be. 1896 Housman
Shropsh. Lad xxx, Others, I am not the first, Have willed more mischief than
they durst. b intr. To exercise the will; to perform the mental act of
volition. 1594 Hooker Eccl. Pol. i. vii. §2 To will, is to bend our soules to
the hauing or doing of that which they see to be good. 1830 Mackintosh Eth.
Philos. Wks. 1846 I. 85 But what could induce such a being to will or to act?
1867 A. P. Forbes Explan. 39 Art. i. 12 Is this infinitely powerful and
intelligent Being free? wills He? loves He? c trans. To bring or get (into, out
of, etc.) by exercise of will. 1850 L. Hunt Table-t. (1882) 184 Victims of
opium have been known to be unable to will themselves out of the chair in which
they were sitting. d To control (another person), or induce (another) to do
something, by the mere exercise of ones will, as in hypnotism. 1882 Proc. Soc.
Psych. Research I. 57 note, The one to be `willed would go to the other end of
the house, if desired, whilst we agreed upon the thing to be done. 1886 19th
Cent. Dec. 883 They are what is called `willed to do certain things desired by
the ladies or gentlemen who have hold of them. 1897 A. Lang Dreams &
Ghosts iii. 59 A young lady, who believed that she could play the `willing game
successfully without touching the person `willed. Usage No. 4 To express or
communicate ones will or wish with regard to something, with various shades of
meaning, cf. will, v.1 3., specifically: a To enjoin, ORDER; to decree, ordain,
a) with personal obj., usually with inf. or clause. 1481 Cov. Leet Bk. 496 We
desire and also will you that vnto oure seid seruaunt ye yeue your aid. 1547 Edw. VI in Rymer
Foedera (1719) XV. 192 We Wyll and Commaunde yowe to Procede in the seid
Matters. 1568 Grafton Chron. II. 659 Their sute was smally regarded, and
shortly after they were willed to silence. 1588 Lambarde Eiren. ii. vii. 272 If
a man do lie in awaite to rob me, and (drawing his sword upon me) he willeth me
to deliver my money. 1591 Shaks. 1 Hen. VI, i. iii. 10 We doe no otherwise then
wee are willd. 1596 Nashe Saffron Walden P 4, Vp he was had and..willed to
deliuer vp his weapon. 1656 Hales Gold. Rem. (1673) i. 31 The King in the
Gospel, that made a Feast, and..willed his servants to go out to the high-ways
side. 1799 Nelson in Nicolas Disp. (1845) III. 397 Willing and requiring all
Officers and men to obey you. (b) with thing as obj., either sb. (alone or with
inf. pass.) or obj. clause; also absol. in clause with as. (See also 2 a.) 1565
Cooper Thesaurus s.v. Classicum, By sounde of trumpet to will scilence. 1612
Bacon Ess., Of Empire (Arb.) 300 It is common with Princes (saith Tacitus) to
will contradictories. 1697 Dryden Æneis i. 112 Tis yours, O Queen! to will The
Work, which Duty binds me to fulfil. 1877 Tennyson Harold vi. i, Get thou into
thy cloister as the king Willd it. b To pray, request, entreat; = desire v. 6.
1454 Paston Lett. Suppl. (1901) 54 As for the questyon that ye wylled me to
aske my lord, I fond hym yet at no good leyser. 1564 Haward tr. Eutropius iii.
26 b, The Romaines sent ambassadoures to him, to wyll him to cease from
battayle. 1581 A. Hall Iliad ii. 19 His errand done, as he was willde, he toke
his flight from thence. 1631 [Mabbe] Celestina xiii. 150 Did I not will you I
should not be wakened? 1690 Dryden Amphitryon i. i, He has sent me to will and
require you to make a swinging long Night for him. c fig. of a thing: To
require, demand (cf. will v.1 B. 3 c); also, to induce, persuade (a person to
do something). 1445 in Anglia XXVIII. 267 Constaunce willeth also That thou doo
noughte with weyke corage. S. Webb, B. Need. Cable and Baugh note that
one important s. of prescriptions that now form part of all our grammars --
that governing the use of will and shall -- has its origin in this period.
Previous to 1622 no grammar recognized any distinction between will and shall.
In 1653 Wallis in his Grammatica Linguae Anglicanae states in Latin and for the
benefit of Europeans that Subjectsive intention is expressed by will in the
first person, by shall in the second and third, while simple factual indicative
predictable futurity is expressed by shall in the first person, by will in the
second and third. It is not until the second half of the eighteenth century
that the use in questions and subordinate clauses is explicitly defined. In
1755 Johnson, in his Dictionary, states the rule for questions, and in 1765
William Ward, in his Grammar, draws up for the first time the full set of
prescriptions that underlies, with individual variations, the rules found in
later tracts. Wards pronouncements are not followed generally by other
grammarians until Lindley Murray gives them greater currency in 1795. Since
about 1825 they have often been repeated in grammars (v. C Fries, The
periphrastic future with will and shall,PMLA 40)". Will qua modal
auxiliary _never_ had an s. The absence of conjugation is a very old common
Germanic phenomenon. OE 3rd person present indicative of willan (and of the
preterite-present verbs) is not distinct from the 1st person present
indicative. That dates back at least to CGmc, or further if one looks just as
the forms and ignore tense and/or mood). Re: Prichard: "Prichard wills
that he go to London. This is Prichards example, admired by Grice ("but I
expect not pleasing to Maucaulays ears"). The -s is introduced to indicate
a difference between the modal and main verb use (as in Prichard and Grice) of
will. In fact, will, qua modal, has never been used with a to-infinitive. OE
uses present-tense forms to refer to future events as well as willan and
sculan. willan would give a volitional nuance; sculan, an obligational nuance.
Its difficult to find an example of weorthan used to express the future in Old
English, but that doesnt mean it didnt happen. In insensitive utterers, will
has very little of volition about it, unless one follows Walliss observation
for for I will vs. I shall. Most probably use ll, or be going to for the
future. D. Davidson, Intending, R. Grandy and Warner , Philosophical
grounds of rationality: intentions, categories, ends. Clarendon. Grice
Intention and uncertainty. Oxford: The University Press. Aspects of Reason. The
conception of value. Davidson on intending. Lectures on intending and trying.
Brandeis. Method in philosophical psychology: from the banal to the bizarre.
Repr. in Conception of Value, WOW . Hampshire and H LA Hart. Decision,
intention, and certainty, Mind 67. G. H. Harman, Willing and intending in
Grandy/Warner. Practical reasoning. Review of Met. 29. Thought, Princeton, for functionalist
approach ala Grices Metho. Princip;es of reasoning. Rational action and the
extent of intention. Social Theory and Practice 9. R. C. Jeffrey, Probability
kinematics, in The logic of decision, cited by Harman in PGRICE. D. Kahneman
and A. Tversky, Judgement under uncertainty, Science 185, cited by Harman in
PGRICE. R. Nisbet and L Ross, Human inference. Prentice Hall. Cited by Harman
in PGRICE. Pears, Predicting and deciding. Prichard, Acting, willing, and
desiring, in Moral Obligations, OUP, ed. by Urmson Speranza, The Grice Circle Wants You. G. F.
Stout, Voluntary action. Mind 5, repr in Studies in philosophy and psychology,
Macmillan. Cited by Grice, Intention and Uncertainty. Urmson Introduction to
Prichards Moral Obligations. I shant but Im not certain I wont – Grice.
How uncertain can Grice be? This is the Henriette Herz British Academy lecture,
and as such published in The Proceedings of the British Academy. Grice
calls himself a neo-Prichardian (after the Oxford philosopher) and cares to
quote from a few other philosophers ‒ some of whom he was not necessarily
associated with: such as Kenny and Anscombe, and some of whom he was, notably
Pears. Grices motto: Where there is a neo-Prichardian willing, there is a
palæo-Griceian way! Grice quotes Pears, of Christ Church, as the philosopher he
found especially congenial to explore areas in what both called philosophical
psychology, notably the tricky use of intending as displayed by a few
philosophers even in their own circle, such as Hampshire and Hart in Intention,
decision, and certainty. The title of Grices lecture is meant to provoke
that pair of Oxonian philosophers Grice knew so well and who were too ready to
bring in certainty in an area that requires deep philosophical
exploration. This is the Henriette Herz Trust annual lecture. It
means its delivered annually by different philosophers, not always Grice! Grice
had been appointed a FBA in 1966, but he took his time to deliver his
lecture. With your lecture, you implicate, Hi! Grice, and indeed Pears,
were motivated by Hampshires and Harts essay on intention and certainty in
Mind. Grice knew Hampshire well, and had actually enjoyed his Thought and
Action. He preferred Hampshires Thought and action to Anscombes Intention.
Trust Oxford being what it is that TWO volumes on intending are published in
the same year! Which one shall I read first? Eventually, neither ‒ immediately.
Rather, Grice managed to unearth some sketchy notes by Prichard (he calls
himself a neo-Prichardian) that Urmson had made available for the Clarendon
Press ‒ notably Prichards essay on willing that. Only a Corpus-Christi genius
like Prichard will distinguish will to, almost unnecessary, from will that, so
crucial. For Grice, wills that ,
unlike wills to, is properly generic, in
that p, that follows the that-clause, need NOT refer to the Subjects of the
sentence. Surely I can will that Smith wins the match! But Grice also quotes
Anscombe (whom otherwise would not count, although they did share a discussion
panel at the American Philosophical Association) and Kenny, besides
Pears. Of Anscombe, Grice borrows (but never returns) the direction-of-fit
term of art, actually Austinian. From Kenny, Grice borrows (and returns) the
concept of voliting. His most congenial approach was Pearss. Grice had of
course occasion to explore disposition and intention on earlier
occasions. Grice is especially concerned with a dispositional analysis to
intending. He will later reject it in Intention and uncertainty. But
that was Grice for you! Grice is especially interested in distinguishing his
views from Ryles over-estimated dispositional account of intention, which Grice
sees as reductionist, and indeed eliminationist, if not boringly behaviourist,
even in analytic key. The logic of dispositions is tricky, as Grice will later
explore in connection with rationality, rational propension or propensity, and
metaphysics, the as if operator). While Grice focuses on uncertainty, he is
trying to be funny. He knew that Oxonians like Hart and Hampshire were obsessed
with certainty. I was so surprised that Hampshire and Hart were claiming
decision and intention are psychological states about which the agent is
certain, that I decided on the spot that that could certainly be a nice
topic for my British Academy lecture! Grice granted that in some cases, a
declaration of an intention can be authorative in a certain certain way, i. e.
as implicating certainty. But Grice wants us to consider: Marmaduke Bloggs
intends to climb Mt. Everest. Surely he cant be certain hell
succeed. Grice used the same example at the American Philosophical Association,
of all places. To amuse Grice, Davidson, who was present,
said: Surely thats just an implicature! Just?! Grice was almost
furious in his British guarded sort of way. Surely not just! Pears,
who was also present, tried to reconcile: If I may, Davidson, I think
Grice would take it that, if certainty is implicated, the whole thing becomes
too social to be true. They kept discussing implicature versus
entailment. Is certainty entailed then? Cf. Urmson on certainly vs.
knowingly, and believably. Davidson asked. No, disimplicated! is Grices
curt reply. The next day, he explained to Davidson that he had invented
the concept of disimplicature just to tease him, and just one night before,
while musing in the hotel room! Talk of uncertainty was thus for Grice intimately
associated with his concern about the misuse of know to mean certain,
especially in the exegeses that Malcolm made popular about, of all people,
Moore! V. Scepticism and common sense and Moore and philosophers paradoxes
above, and Causal theory and Prolegomena for a summary of Malcoms
misunderstanding Moore! Grice manages to quote from Stouts Voluntary action and
Brecht. And he notes that not all speakers are as sensitive as they should be
(e.g. distinguishing modes, as realised by shall vs. will). He emphasizes the
fact that Prichard has to be given great credit for seeing that the accurate
specification of willing should be willing that and not willing to. Grice is
especially interested in proving Stoutians (like Hampshire and Hart) wrong by drawing
from Aristotles prohairesis-doxa distinction, or in his parlance, the
buletic-doxastic distinction. Grice quotes from Aristotle. Prohairesis cannot
be opinion/doxa. For opinion is thought to relate to all kinds of things, no
less to eternal things and impossible things than to things in our own power;
and it is distinguished by its falsity or truth, not by its badness or
goodness, while choice is distinguished rather by these. Now with opinion in
general perhaps no one even says it is identical. But it is not identical even
with any kind of opinion; for by choosing or deciding, or prohairesis, what is
good or bad we are men of a certain character, which we are not by holding this
or that opinion or doxa. And we choose to get or avoid something good or bad,
but we have opinions about what a thing is or whom it is good for or how it is
good for him; we can hardly be said to opine to get or avoid anything. And
choice is praised for being related to the right object rather than for being
rightly related to it, opinion for being truly related to its object. And we
choose what we best know to be good, but we opine what we do not quite know;
and it is not the same people that are thought to make the best choices and to
have the best opinions, but some are thought to have fairly good opinions, but
by reason of vice to choose what they should not. If opinion precedes choice or
accompanies it, that makes no difference; for it is not this that we are
considering, but whether it is identical with some kind of opinion. What, then,
or what kind of thing is it, since it is none of the things we have mentioned?
It seems to be voluntary, but not all that is voluntary to be an object of
choice. Is it, then, what has been decided on by previous deliberation? At any
rate choice involves a rational principle and thought. Even the Names seems to
suggest that it is what is chosen before other things. His final analysis of G
intends that p is in terms of, B1, a buletic condition, to the effect that G
wills that p, and D2, an attending doxastic condition, to the effect that G
judges that B1 causes p. Grice ends this essay with a nod to Pears and an open
point about the justifiability (other than evidential) for the acceptability of
the agents deciding and intending versus the evidential justifiability of the
agents predicting that what he intends will be satisfied. It is important to
note that in his earlier Disposition and intention, Grice dedicates the first
part to counterfactual if general. This is a logical point. Then as an account
for a psychological souly concept ψ. If G does A [sensory input], G does B
[behavioural output. No ψ without the behavioural output that ψ is meant to
explain. His problem is with the first person. The functionalist I does not
need a black box. The here would be both
incorrigibility and privileged access. Pirotology only explains their
evolutionary import.
ENTAILMENT: Grice
thought that we probably did need an entailment. The symposium was held in New
York with Dana Scott and R. K. Meyer. The notion had been mis-introduced
(according to Strawson) in the philosophical literature by Moore. Grice is
especially interested in the entailment + implicatum pair. A philosophical
expression may be said to be co-related to an entailment (which is rendered in
terms of a reductive analysis). However, the use of the expression may
co-relate to this or that implicatum which is rendered reasonable in the light
of the addressees assumption that the utterer is ultimately abiding by a
principle of conversational helfpulness. Grice thinks many philosophers take an
implicatum as an entailment when they surely shouldnt! Grice was more
interested than Strawson was in Moores coinage of entailment for logical
consequence. As an analyst, Grice knew that a true conceptual analysis needs to
be reductive (if not reductionist). The prongs the analyst lists are thus
entailments of the concept in question. Philosophers, however, may misidentify
what is an entailment for an implicature, or vice versa. Initially, Grice was
interested in the second family of cases. With his coinage of disimplicature,
Grice expands his interest to cover the first family of cases, too. Grice
remains a philosophical methodologist. He is not so much concerned with any
area or discipline or philosophical concept per se (unless its rationality),
but with the misuses of some tools in the philosophy of language as committed
by some of his colleagues at Oxford. While entailment, was, for Strawson
mis-introduced in the philosophical literature by Moore, entailment seems to be
less involved in paradoxes than if is. Grice connects the two, as indeed his
tutee Strawson did! As it happens, Strawsons Necessary propositions and
entailment statements is his very first published essay, with Mind, a re-write
of an unpublication unwritten elsewhere, and which Grice read. The relation of
consequence may be considered a meta-conditional, where paradoxes
arise. Grices Bootstrap is a principle designed to impoverish the
metalanguage so that the philosopher can succeed in the business of pulling
himself up by his own! Grice then takes a look at Strawsons very first
publication (an unpublication he had written elsewhere). Grice finds Strawson
thought he could provide a simple solution to the so-called paradoxes of
entailment. At the time, Grice and Strawson were pretty sure that nobody then
accepted, if indeed anyone ever did and did make, the identification of the
relation symbolised by the horseshoe with the relation which Moore calls entailment,
p⊃q, i. e. ~(pΛ~q) is
rejected as an analysis of p entails q because it involves this or that
allegedly paradoxical implicatum, as that any false proposition entails any
proposition and any true proposition is entailed by any proposition. It is a commonplace
that Lewiss amendment had consequences scarcely less paradoxical in terms of
the implicata. For if p is impossible, i.e. self-contradictory, it is
impossible that p and ~q. And if q is necessary, ~q is impossible and it
is impossible that p and ~q; i. e., if p entails q means it is impossible that
p and ~q any necessary proposition is entailed by any proposition and any
self-contradictory proposition entails any proposition. On the other hand,
Lewiss definition of entailment (i.e. of the relation which holds from p to q
whenever q is deducible from p) obviously commends itself in some respects.
Now, it is clear that the emphasis laid on the expression-mentioning character
of the intensional contingent statement by writing pΛ~q is impossible instead
of It is impossible that p and ~q does not avoid the alleged paradoxes of
entailment. But it is equally clear that the addition of some provision
does avoid them. One may proposes that one should use entails
such that no necessary statement and no negation of a necessary
statement can significantly be said to entail or be entailed by any statement;
i. e. the function p entails q cannot take necessary or self-contradictory
statements as arguments. The expression p entails q is to be used to mean p⊃q is necessary, and neither p nor q is either
necessary or self-contradictory, or pΛ~q is impossible and neither p nor q, nor
either of their contradictories, is necessary. Thus, the paradoxes are avoided.
For let us assume that p1 expresses a contingent, and q1 a necessary,
proposition. p1 and ~q1 is now impossible because ~q1 is impossible. But q1 is
necessary. So, by that provision, p1 does not entail q1. We may avoid the
paradoxical assertion that p1 entails q2 as merely falling into the equally
paradoxical assertion that p1 entails q1 is necessary. For: If q is necessary,
q is necessary is, though true, not necessary, but a contingent intensional
(Latinate) statement. This becomes part of the philosophers lexicon: intensĭo,
f. intendo, which L and S render as a stretching out, straining, effort.
E. g. oculorum, Scrib. Comp. 255. Also an intensifying, increase. Calorem suum
(sol) intensionibus ac remissionibus temperando fovet,” Sen. Q. N. 7, 1, 3. The
tune: “gravis, media, acuta,” Censor. 12. Hence:~(q is necessary) is,
though false, possible. Hence p1Λ~(q1 is necessary) is, though false, possible.
Hence p1 does NOT entail q1 is necessary. Thus, by adopting the view that an
entailment statement, and other intensional statements, are non-necessary, and
that no necessary statement or its contradictory can entail or be entailed by
any statement, Strawson thinks he can avoid the paradox that a necessary
proposition is entailed by any proposition, and indeed all the other associated
paradoxes of entailment. Grice objected that Strawsons cure was worse than
Moores disease! The denial that a necessary proposition can entail or be
entailed by any proposition, and, therefore, that necessary propositions can be
related to each other by the entailment-relation, is too high a price to pay
for the solution of the paradoxes. And here is where Grices implicature is
meant to do the trick! Or not! When Levinson proposed + for conversationally implicature,
he is thinking of contrasting it with ⊢. But things aint
that easy. Even the grammar is more complicated: By uttering He is an adult, U
explicitly conveys that he is an adult. What U explicitly conveys entails that
he is not a child. What U implies is that he should be treated accordingly.
Formal semantics, Summer institute on philosophy of language,
UC/Irvine, formal semantics.
SOUL: Grice was not a psychologist. He was a philosopher engaged
in philosophical psychology. best to date this March 1972, as the footnote in
Conception of value reads, when Grice presents the idea in the Princeton
lectures. He notes in a footnote he delivered this as an earlier lecture.
Grices Method is reprinted in The Conception of Value. Grice
was forever grateful to Carnap for having coined pirot. 1974 Or having
thought to have coined. Apparently, someone had used the expression before him
to mean some sort of exotic fish. He starts by listing this or that a focal problem.
The first problem is circularity. He refers to Ryles dispositional
behaviouristic analysis. The second focal problem is the alleged analytic
status of a psychological law. The third problem concerns some respect for
Grices own privileged access to this or that state and this or that avowal of
this or that state being incorrigible. The fourth problem concerns the
law-selection. He refers to pessimism. He talks of folk-science. B and D are is
each predicate-constant in some law L in some psychological theory θ. This or that instantiable of B or D may well be a set or a
property or neither. Way of Ramseyified naming and way of Ramseyified
definition. Grices way of Ramseyified naming: There is just one
predicate-constant boule and just one predicate-consant doxa such that
nomological generalization L introducing this or that predicate constant via
implicit definition in theory θ obtains and let
boule be Namesd buletic and doxa be Namesd
doxastic. Uniqueness is essential since the buletic and the doxastic are assigned
as this or that Namess for this or that particular instantiable. But one can
dispense with uniqueness. Grices way of Ramseyified description.
x holds a buletic attitude just in case there is a predicate-constant
boule introduced via implicit definition by nomological generalisation or law
within theory θ such that nomological generalization L
obtains and x instantiates the boule and x holds a doxastic attitude just in
case there is a doxa introduced by implicit definition by nomological
generalisation L in theory θ such that nomological generalization L obtains
and G instantiates the doxa. Grice trusts he is not overstretching Ramseys
original intention. He applies Ramsey-naming and Ramsey-describing to pain. He
who hollers is in pain. Or rather, He who is in pain hollers. (Sufficient but
not necessary). He rejects disjunctional physicalism on it sounding harsh, as
Berkeley puts it, to say that Smiths brains being in such and such a state is a
case of, say, judging something to be true on insufficient evidence. He
criticises the body-soul identity thesis on dismissing =s main purpose, to
license predicate transfers. Grice wasnt sure what his presidential
address to the American Philosophical Association will be about. He chose
the banal (i.e. the ordinary-language counterpart of something like a need we
ascribe to a squirrel to gobble nuts) and the bizarre: the philosophers
construction of need and other psychological, now theoretical terms. In
the proceedings, Grice creates the discipline of pirotology. He cares to
mention very many philosophers: Aristotle, Lewis, Myro, Witters, Ramsey, Ryle,
and a few others! The essay became popular when, of all people,
Block, cited it as a programme in functionalism, which it is! Grices
method in functionalist philosophical psychology. Introduces pirotology as a
creature-construction discipline. Repr. in The Conception of Value, it
reached a wider audience. The essay is highly subdivided, and covers a lot of
ground. Grice starts by noting that, contra Ryle, he wants to see psychological
predicates as theoretical concepts. The kind of theory he is having in mind is
folksy. The first creature he introduces to apply his method is Toby, a
squarrel, that is a reconstructed squirrel. Grice gives some principles of
pirotology. Maxims of rational behaviour compound to form what he calls an
immanuel, of which The Conversational Immanuel is a part. Grice concludes with
a warning against the Devil of Scientism, but acknowledges perhaps he was
giving much too credit to Myros influence on this! 1975. Method in
philosophical psychology: from the banal to the bizarre, in The Conception
of Value, Clarendon, repr. from The Proceedings and Addresses of the American
Philosophical Association, Method in philosophical psychology: from the banal
to the bizarre, Proceedings and Addresses of the American Philosophical
Association, : philosophical psychology, pirotology. The Immanuel section is
perhaps the most important from the point of view of conversation as rational
co-operation. For he identifies three types of generality: formal, applicational,
and content-based. Also, he allows for there being different types of
imannuels. Surely one should be the conversational immanuel. Ryle would say
that one can have a manual, yet now know how to use it! And theres also the
Witters-type problem. How do we say that the conversationalist is following the
immanuel? Perhaps the statement is too strong – cf. following a rule – and
Grices problems with resultant and basic procedures, and how the former derive
from the latter! This connects with Chomsky, and in general with Grices
antipathy towards constitutive rules! In Intention and Uncertainty Grice had
warned that his interpretation of Prichards willing that as a state should not preclude a physicalist
analysis, but in Method its all AGAINST physicalism. Grices concern is with every-day psychological
explanation, an explanation which employs this or that every-day psychological
principle. By such a principle Grice means a relatively stable body of
generally-accepted principles, of which the following are examples. If G
desires p, and believes (if p, q) other things being equal, G desires q. If G
desires p and desires q, other things being equal, G acts on the stronger of
the two desires if G acts on either. If G stares at a coloured surface and
subsequently stares at a white surface, other things being equal, G will have
an after-image. Grice do not intend to suggest that every-day principle is as
simple and easy to formulate as these examples. As Grice repeatedly emphasises,
the principles we explicitly or implicitly employ are many, varied, rich, and
subtle. Take desire. In every-day explanation we exploit an immense richness in
the family of expressions that might be thought of as the wanting family; this
Jeffrey-type family includes expressions like want, desire, would like to , is
eager to, is anxious to, would mind not
, the idea of appeals to me, is
thinking of, etc. Grice remarks that the likeness and differences within this
family demand careful attention. The systematic exposition of these likenesses
and differences is itself an important and not unpleasant philosophical task.
But we are concerned with Grices overall view of psychological explanation,
and, to see what Grice thinks, it will be useful first to consider how we would
explain the behaviour of a certain sort of robot. Suppose we are presented with
a rather peculiar robot, and a diagram that we can use to predict and explain
its behaviour. The robot is peculiar in that it has a panel of lights on its
forehead ‒ say 64 lights in an 8x8 pattern. Each square represents a possible
configuration of lights, and the diagram correlates possible configurations
with each other. Some squares are correlated with more than one other square.
E. g. ClcC2 means that configuration C is followed by C1 or C2. The
diagram describes a finite, non-deterministic automaton. No transition
probabilities are given. We can use the diagram to predict and explain the
configurations that appear on the robots forehead because the robot is so constructed that
the configurations succeed one another in the ways represented in the diagram.
So, if we observe configuration C, we can predict that C1 or C2 will follow. If
we observe Cl, we can explain its occurrence by pointing out that C must have
preceded it. All we can explain so far are configurations of lights. Can we
explain behaviour, e. g., the robots raising its left arm? Suppose we are
provided with a table which has entries like: if configuraton C occurs at t,
the robot raises its arm at t+1. We succeed in predicting and explaining the
robots behaviour, except that occasionally our predictions are falsified. The
robot does not always work according to the diagram. Temporary electronic
defects and vagaries account for the falsified predications. The diagram and
table represent the way the robot is designed to work, not the way it always
does work. Apart from the infrequent electronically-explained lapses,
explanation and prediction proceed untroubled until one day a large number of
our predictions are falsified. Suspecting a massive electronic disorder, we
return the robot. The manufacturer explains that the robot was programmed to be
self-regulating. The robot has an internal representation of the diagram and
table we were given, and it was also programmed to use this or that evaluative
principle to determine whether to operate in accord with the diagram and table.
E.g., suppose the robot is in configuration C and that the immediate successor
of C is C 1. The robot determines by this or that evaluative principle not to
move into Cl, but to arrive at C2 instead. The robot was engineered so that it
will in certain situations employ this or that evaluative principle, and so its
states will change, in accord with the results of its evaluations. When we ask
for the evaluative principle, it is given to us, but it does not improve our
predictive power as much as we may have hoped. The robot has the power to
formulate a new subsidiary evaluative principle. It formulates this new
principle using its original evaluative principle plus information about the
environment and the consequences of its past actions. We may simply not know,
at any given time, exactly what subsidiary principle the robot is employing.
The robot may to some extent revise or replace its original evaluative
principle, i.e., it may, in the light of a principles, original or subsidiary,
plus information about its environment and past actions, revise or replace its
original principle. So we may not know exactly what original principles the robot
is using. When we complain that we have lost our ability to predict
and explain the robots behaviour, we are told that the situation is not so
bad. First, in programming the robot, an evaluative principle is made immune to
revision and replacement, so we can always count on the robots operating with
this principle. Second, we are not at a total loss to determine what evaluative
principle-subsidiary or otherwise-the robot employs. We possess the diagram and
table as well as knowledge of the original evaluative principle. The robot uses
the diagram, table, and principles to arrive at a new principle, and we can
replicate this process. We can replicate the processes that lead the robot to
deviate from the diagram and table. To the extent that we have identified the
robots evaluative procedure, we can use it just as the robot does to determine
whether it will act in accord with the diagram and table. Of course, there is
the problem of determining when the robot will employ its evaluative principle,
but we might be provided with a new table with entries like: if C occurs at t,
the robot will employ its evaluative principle at t+1. We can often predict and
explain the robots behaviour just as we did before the evaluative principle
complicated the picture, for the robot does not always employ its evaluative
principle to diverge from the diagram and table. On the contrary, it was
designed to minimize the use of the principle since their use requires
significant time and energy. An important part of Grices view of every-day
psychological explanation can be put this way. Such explanation is similar to
the explanation and prediction of the robots behaviour. There are a few points
to note here. An every-day psychological principle plays a role in explanation
and prediction that is similar to the role of the diagram and table. Think of
the robots lights as representing a psychological state. Then the diagram and
table express relations among complexes consisting of a psychological state and
behaviour. An everyday psychological principle clearly expresses such a
relations, although this is not all it does. People use an evaluative
principle in ways analogous to the use the robot makes of his. This point is an
essential part of Grices view of rationality. Grice holds that the picture of
rationality given us by Kantotle as something which essentially functions to
regulate, direct, and control a pre-rational impulse, an inclination, and a
disposition, is the right picture. One of the things an everyday psychological
principle give us is a specification of how a pre-rational soul impulse,
inclination, or disposition operates, just as the diagram and table represent
how the robot operates apart from employing its evaluative principle. People
can, through deliberation, rationally regulate, direct, control and monitor a
pre-rational pattern of thought or action just as the robot can regulate,
direct, control and monitor its operation in accord with the diagram and table.
So what is this evaluative principle people employ? It is included among what
we have been calling an everyday psychological principle, for it does not
merely specify how our pre-rational part operates. Consider e.g: if a G
believes p and that (if p, q) and G believes ~q, G should stop believing
p or stop believing q. Conformity to this principle is a criterion of
rationality, although this is not to say that the principle may not have
exceptions in quite special circumstances. One important evaluative principle
is the conception of eudæmonia. Grice suggests that eudæmonia consists in
having a set of ends meeting certain conditions ‒ where an important
necessary condition is that the set of ends be suitable for the direction of
life, and much of Some reflections is devoted to explaining this condition.
Grice suggests that if an individual asks what it is for him to be happy, the
answer consists in identifying a system of ends which is a specific and
personalized derivative, determined by that individuals character, abilities,
and situation in the world, of the system constitutive of eudæmonia in general.
This specific and personalized derivative figures prominently in deliberation,
for a person may use it to regulate, direct, control, and monitor his
pre-rational souls inclination. Third, recall that we imagined that the robot
could replace and revise its evaluative principle. Analogously, a person may
change his conception of what it is for him to be happy. But we also imagined
that the robot had some evaluative principles it could not change. On Grices
view, a person has this evaluative principle that cannot change. Not because a
person programmed in; rather, it is a principle a person cannot abandon if he
is to count as rational. E. g. it is plausible to suggest that a person must,
to count as rational, have and employ in deliberation at least some minimal
conception of what it is for him to be happy. Also it is plausible to suggest
that this conception counts as a conception of happiness only if it is a
specific and personalized derivative of a conception of eudæmonia in general.
So to count as happy, a person would have to have and employ such a conception.
These examples do not, of course, exhaust the range of things one might hope to
show necessary to counting as rational. We should note here that our use of
rational may be a looser use than Grice himself would indulge in. Grice regards
rational as a label for a cluster of notions he would distinguish. Our
looseness is an expositional convenience. Fourth, everday psychological
predictions and explanations are sometimes falsified-like the prediction and
explanations of the robots behaviour. And, just as in the case of the robot,
this reveals no defect in everyday psychological explanation. How can this be?
In the robot example, the diagram and table specify how the robot is designed
to function; obviously, minor deviations from the design do not justify
regarding the information in the diagram and table as either false or useless.
Can anything similar be true of people? Something somewhat similar is true,
according to Grice, and this because everyday psychology has special status.
Grice argues that the psychological theory which I envisage would be deficient
as a theory to explain behaviour if it did not contain provision for interests
in the ascription of psychological states otherwise than as tools for
explaining and predicting behaviour, interests, e. g., on the part of one
creature to be able to ascribe these rather than those psychological states to
another creature because of a concern for the other creature. Within such a
theory it should be possible to derive a strong motivation on the part of the
creature Subjects to the theory against the abandonment of the central concepts
of the theory, and so of the theory itself, a motivation which the creature
would or should regard as justified. Indeed, only from within the framework of
such a theory Girce think that matters of evaluation, and so, of the evaluation
of modes of explanation, can be raised at all. If he conjectures aright, the
entrenched system contains the materials needed to justify its own
entrenchment; whereas no rival system contains a basis for the justification of
anything at all. Suppose the entrenched system contains the materials needed to
justify its own entrenchment; whereas no rival system contains a basis for the
justification of anything at all. Then while everyday psychology, or some
preferred part of it, may not specify how we are designed to think and
act, it does specify how we ought to think and act; for there can be no
justification for failure to conform to the preferred part of everyday
psychology. There is another point which it is worth noting here in
passing. If everyday psychology is uniquely self-justifying in the way Grice
suggests, we must reject the suggestion that everyday psychology is just a
rough and ready theory that we will or could eventually abandon without loss in
favour of a more accurate and complete scientific theory of behaviour. Grice
remarks that we must be ever watchful against the Devil of Scientism, who would
lead us into myopic over-concentration on the nature and importance of
knowledge, and of scientific knowledge in particular; the Devil who is even so
audacious as to tempt us to call in question the very system of ideas required
to make intelligible the idea of calling in question anything at all; and who
would even prompt us, in effect, to suggest that since we do not really think
but only think that we think, we had better change our minds without undue
delay. Now let us turn to meaning. In Meaning revisited, Grice sets out to put
one or two of the thoughts he had at various times into some kind of focus, so
that there might emerge some sort of sense about not merely what kind of views
about the nature of meaning he is inclined to endorse, but also why it should be
antecedently plausible to accept this kind of view. When Grice says
antecedently plausible, he means plausible for some reasons other than that the
view in question offers some prospects of dealing with the intuitive data: the
facts about how Grice uses mean, and so on. So he digs just a little bit into
the background of the analysis of meaning and its roots in such things as
philosophical psychology. It is worth emphasizing the point that the analysis
has its roots in philosophical psychology, for one trend in Oxford philosophy
has been to regard the study of meaning as first philosophy (M. A. E. Dummett),
as providing the framework and the tools for any other philosophical
investigation. This is clearly not Grices view. How can the roots of the study
of meaning be in philosophical psychology? Consider the utterers meaning. Grice
employs his conception of everyday psychological explanation to provide a
certain kind of rationale for his account of utterers meaning. The rationale
consists essentially of three claims. First, given our general psychological
make-up, specified by everyday psychology, and given our environment, it is
frequently highly conducive to realizing our ends that we be able to produce
beliefs in each other. E. g. suppose I need your help to escape the riptide
that is carrying me out to sea. You will help me if you believe I am caught in
the riptide. How can I ensure that you will believe that? Second, an especially
effective way to produce this belief is to do something m-intending thereby
that I am caught in the riptide. Consider what might happen if I do not have
such an m-intention. Suppose I just thrash about in the water. I intend you to
see that my swimming is ineffective, and to infer therefrom that I am caught.
But you might think that I was simply having a good time splashing about, or
that I was just pretending to be in trouble. If I can get you to realise that I
intend by what I am doing to produce in you the belief that I am caught, that
realization will give you a decisive reason to believe that I need help. So I
do have a good and decisive reason to m-intend that I am caught. And ‒ and this
is the third claim ‒ I have the ability to m-intend that I am caught. It is an
everday psychological fact that we can perform actions with the intention-1
that the addressee A believe p; the intention-2a that the audience recognize
the intention-1 and the intention-2b that this recognition be part of the
audiences reason for accepting p. This is a fact about our pre-rational soul
part, analogous to the facts about the robots behaviour which we can read off
solely from the diagram and table without any appeal to its evaluative
procedures. We are just so designed that we M-intend things at various times.
E. g., in the riptide case, I would utter I am caught in the riptide,
m-intending you to think that I am caught. These three points show that it is
rational for us to be so designed. That is, it is rational for us to be
pre-rationally soul structured so as to employ m-intentions. To see why, consider
what we are doing in working through the three claims in question. We note that
we have a certain pre-rational soul structure involving an m-intention, and we
ask what can be said in favour of it. Given our ends and our environment, there
is a good decisive reason to have such a pre-rational soul structure. So
we discover that the m-intending structure passes rational muster. It does not
have to be inhibited. Rather it should be reinforced and guided. The air of
paradox in a pre-rational soul structures being rational is easily dispelled.
To label a structure pre-rational soul is merely to see it as present and
operative independently of any attempt to evaluate whether and how it should be
regulated, directed, and controlled. To call such a structure rational is to
say that on evaluation one finds a good decisive reason to allow the
structure to remain operative instead of trying to inhibit or eliminate it.
Grice sometimes expresses the fact that a pre-rational structure is rational by
saying that it has a genitorial justification. Suppose we are
demi-gods, genitors, as Grice says, designing creatures. We are
constructing them out of animal stuff, so we are making creatures that will
perceive, desire, hope, fear, think, feel, and so on. The question before us
is: exactly what psychological principles should our creatures obey? We want,
so to speak, to decide on a specific diagram and table for them. As we work on
this problem, we discover that we have a good and decisive reason to make them
such that they employ an m-intention, for we have built into them a desire for
eudæmonia, and as we survey their environment and their physical powers, it is
clear that they have little chance for eudæmonia or even survival unless they
employ an m-intention. And, as benevolent genitors, we want them to have every
chance of eudæmonia. In appealing to happiness in this way we have departed
somewhat from Grices treatment of creature construction. This deviation, which
is expositionally convenient here, is corrected in the section on ethics. So as
genitors we have a good and decisive reason to make our creatures m-intend.
Grice infers from this genitorial myth that it really is rational ‒ or, if one
likes, that we really have a good reason-to be so pre-rationally structured that
we M-intend. And the inference is a good one, for the technique of genitorial
creature construction is a more picturesque way of establishing that
M-intending passes rational muster. Grice sometimes uses this creature
construction technique to discover what aspects of our pre-rational structure
are rational. The idea is that the question as what should we as genitors build
into creatures with human psychological capacities living in a human
environment is easier to answer than the question as to what aspects of our
pre-rational structure are rational. m-intending is one structure that we can
cite in answer to both questions. Consider how surprising it would be if
language had no word that stood for m-intending. Our considerations reveal it
not only as a rational, but as a very important, pre-rational soul structure.
Of course, Grice does think we have an expression here: viz., mean. This
linguistic thesis combined with the identification of m-intending as a rational
pre-rational structure provides a justification of Grices account of utterers
meaning. The concluding section of Grices Meaning revisited is
relevant here, as it further illuminates the rational aspect of m-intending (or
utterer meaning as Grice calls it in Meaning Revisited). Grice begins by saying
that the general idea that he wants to explore, and which seems to me to have
some plausibility, is that something has been left out, by me and perhaps by
others too, in the analyses, definitions, expansions and so on, of semantic
notions, and particularly various notions of meaning. What has been left out
has in fact been left out because it is something which everyone regards with
horror, at least when in a scientific or theoretical frame of mind: the notion
of value. Though I think that in general we want to keep value notions out of
our philosophical and scientific enquiries, and some would say out of
everything else, we might consider what would happen if we relaxed this
prohibition to some extent. If we did, there is a whole range of different kinds
of value predicates or expressions which might be admitted in different types
of case. To avoid having to choose between them, I am just going to use as a
predicate the word optimal the meaning of which could of course be more
precisely characterized later. Applying this idea to utterers meaning, Grice
makes two suggestions. As a first approximation, what we mean by saying that an
utterer, by something he utters, on a particular occasion, means that p, is
that he is in the optimal state with respect to communicating, or if you like,
to communicating that p. The optimal state, the state in which he has an
infinite set of intentions, is in principle unrealisable, so that the utterer U
does not strictly speaking mean that p, he is deemed to mean that p. However,
he is in a situation which is such that it is legitimate, or perhaps even
mandatory, for us to deem him to satisfy the unfulfillable condition. The
optimal state is what the analysis of speaker meaning specifies.
Counter-examples advanced by Schiffer in Meaning suggest that this state is one
in which a speaker has an infinite number of intentions. We will not discuss
the counter-examples; we want to consider why it is reasonable to respond to
them by granting that the analysis of utterers meaning specifies an
unrealizable-but none the less ideal or optimal-state involving having an
infinite number of intentions. Consider an analogy. There is in sailing an
optimal setting for the sails-a setting that maximizes forward thrust. Any
reasonably complete text on sailing will explain at least some of the
relevant ærodynamic theory. Now this optimal setting is difficult if not
impossible to achieve while actually sailing-given continual shifts in wind
direction, the sudden changes of direction caused by waves, and the difficulty
in determining airflow patterns by sight. To deal with these practical
difficulties, the text supplies numerous rules of thumb which are relatively
easy to apply while sailing. Why not just drop the ærodynamic theory altogether
and just provide the reader/sailor with the rules of thumb? Because they are
rules of thumb. They hold at best other things being equal. To spot exceptions
and resolve conflicts as well as to handle situations not covered by the rules,
one needs to know what the ærodynamic optimum is. This optimum plays a crucial
role in guiding the use of the rules of thumb. Why should common sense
psychology not avail itself of various optima in this way? It is plausible to
think that it does given Grices view of rationality as something that plays an
evaluative and guiding role with respect to pre-rational inclinations and
dispositions. Various optima would be especially suited to such a role. And why
should utterers meaning not be such an optimum? Indeed, there is some reason to
think it is. As for a resultant procedures, what can we say about sentence
meaning? Is it possible to provide a rationale for the treatment of sentence
meaning in the context of Grices philosophical psychology? The account of
sentence meaning has an explanatory role. Consider that a speaker of this or
that language can M-intend an extremely wide range of things, and typically his
audience will know what he M-intends as soon as the audience hears what is
uttered. Attributing resultant procedures to language-users explains these
facts. There are a few points to note. Suppose U has the procedure of uttering
I know the route if U wants A to think U thinks U knows the route. What does it
mean to suppose this? We can understand it as an everday psychological principle.
More precisely, the proposed principle is: if a competent communicator wants
his addressee A to think the utterer U knows the route, other things being
equal, utterer U utters I know the route. This qualifies as an every-day
psychological principle and, perhaps most important, like at least some other
everyday psychological principles, this principle has a normative aspect. Both
knowledge of and conformity to this principle are required if one is to count
as a competent speaker. Turning from utterers to audiences, it is, for
similar reasons, plausible to suggest that it is an everyday psychological fact
that if a competent English speaker hears I know the route, then he will-other
things being equal-think the utterer thinks he knows the route. This principle
could be derived from the first plus the assumption that speakers are, about
certain things, trustworthy. There is nothing mysterious about such everyday
psychological principles. They specify part of our psychological make-up, the
way we are designed -part of our pre-rational structure, and the fact that we
are so designed, certainly explains the range of things we can m-intend and the
ease with which we employ such m-intentions. But, and this is the second point,
we might have hoped for much more by way of explanation, for there are
mysteries here. In particular, what is it for a person to have a resultant
procedure? To see what the question asks, imagine having an answer of the form.
The utterer U has a resultant procedure P if and only if where the dots are
filled out by specification of certain psychological and behavioural features.
This would provide us with an informative characterization of the psychological
and behavioural capacities underlying language use. Since there are infinitely
many resultant procedures, a reasonable way to provide answers would be (given
any language) to specify a finite set of basic procedures for that language,
from which the infinitely many resultant procedures could be derived (in some
suitable sense of derived). Then we would provide a finite set of conditions of
the form: U U has basic procedure Pb if and only if where the
dots are replaced by a suitable condition. But what counts as a suitable
condition? What psychological, behavioural, or other properties does one have
to have to count as possessing a certain basic procedure P? As we said, Grice
regards this as an open question. Of course, this is not to say that the
question is unimportant; on the contrary, it is of fundamental importance if we
want to know what capacities underlie language use. One problem about Grices
account of meaning still remains: does the appeal to propositions not vitiate
the whole project? (Consider section on ethics). One crucial point to consider
is the primacy (to use Suppess qualification) of the buletic over the doxastic.
Grice was playing with this for some time (Journal of Philosophy). In Method,
from the mundane to the recondite, he is playful enough to say that primacy is
no big deal, and that, if properly motivated, he might give a reductive
analysis of the buletic in terms of the doxastic. But his reductive analysis of
the doxastic in terms of the buletic runs as follows: Pirot judges that p iff
Pirot wills as follows: given any situation in which pirot wills some end E and
here are two non-empty classes K1 and K2 of
action types, such that: the performance by pirot of an action-type belonging
to K1 realises E1 just in case p obtains, and
the performance by the pirot of an action type belonging to of K2 will
realise E just in case p does not obtain, and here is no third non-empty class
K3 of action types such that the performance by the pirot of an
action type belonging to will realise E whether p is true or p is false,
in such situation, the pirot is to will that the pirot performs some action
type belonging to K1. Creature construction allows for an account of
freedom that will metaphysically justify absolute value. Philosopher
H. Frankfurt has become famous for his second-order and higher-order desires.
Grice is exploring similar grounds in what comes out as his Method in
philosophical psychology (originally American Philosophical Association
presidential address, now reprinted in The conception of value). Bratman, of
Stanford, much influenced by Grice (at Berkeley then) thanks to their
Hands-Across-the-Bay programme, helps us to understand this pirotological
progression towards the idea of strong autonomy or freedom. Recall that Grices
pirots combine Lockes very intelligent parrots with Russells and Carnaps
nonsensical pirots of which nothing we are told other than they karulise
elatically. Grices purpose is to give a little thought to a question. What are
the general principles exemplified, in creature-construction, in progressing
from one type of pirot to a higher type? What kinds of steps are being made?
The kinds of step with which Grice deals are those which culminate in a licence
to include, within the specification of the content of the psychological state
of this or that type of pirot, a range of expressions which would be inappropriate
with respect to this lower-type pirot. Such expressions include this or that
connective, this or that quantifier, this or that temporal modifier, this or
that mode indicator, this or that modal operator, and (importantly) this or
that expression to refer to this or that souly state like … judges that … and … will that … This or
that expression, that is, the availability of which leads to the structural
enrichment of the specification of content. In general, these steps will be
ones by which this or that item or idea which has, initially, a legitimate
place outside the scope of this or that souly instantiable (or, if you will,
the expressions for which occur legitimately outside the scope of this or that
souly predicate) come to have a legitimate place within the scope of such an
instantiable, a step by which, one might say, this or that item or ideas comes
to be internalised. Grice is disposed to regard as prototypical the sort of
natural disposition or propension which Hume attributes to a person, and which
is very important to Hume, viz. the tendency of the soul to spread itself upon
objects, i.e. to project into the world items which, properly or primitively
considered, is a feature of this or that souly state. Grice sets out in stages
the application of aspects of the genitorial programme. We then start with a
zero-order, with a pirot equipped to satisfy unnested, or logically amorphous,
judging and willing, i.e. whose contents do not involve judging or willing. We
soon reach our first pirot, G1. It would be advantageous to a pirot0 if
it could have this or that judging and this or that willing, which relate to
its own judging or willing. Such G1 could be equipped to
control or regulate its own judgings and willings. It will presumably be already
constituted so as to conform to the law that, cæteris paribus, if it wills that
p and judge that ~p, if it can, it makes it the case that p in its soul To give
it some control over its judgings and willings, we need only extend the
application of this law to the pirots judging and willing. We equip the pirot
so that, cæteris paribus, if it wills that it is not the case that it wills
that p and it judges that they do will that p, if it can, it makes it the case
that it does not will that p. And we somehow ensure that sometimes it can do
this. It may be that the installation of this kind of control would go hand in
had with the installation of the capacity for evaluation. Now, unlike it is the
case with a G1, a G2s intentional effort depends on the motivational strength
of its considered desire at the time of action. There is a process by which
this or that conflicting considered desire motivates action as a broadly causal
process, a process that reveals motivational strength. But a G2 might itself
try to weigh considerations provided by such a conflicting desire B1 and B2 in
deliberation about this or that pro and this or that con of various
alternatives. In the simplest case, such weighing treats each of the things
desired as a prima facie justifying end. In the face of conflict, it weighs
this and that desired end, where the weights correspond to the motivational
strength of the associated considered desire. The outcome of such deliberation,
Aristotles prohairesis, matches the outcome of the causal motivational process
envisioned in the description of G2. But, since the weights it
invokes in such deliberation correspond to the motivational strength of this or
that relevant considered desire (though perhaps not to the motivational
strength of this or that relevant considered desire), the resultant activitiy
matches those of a corresponding G2 (each of whose desires, we
are assuming, are considered). To be more realistic, we might limit ourselves
to saying that a pirot2 has the capacity to make the transition
from this or that unconsidered desire to this or that considered desire, but
does not always do this. But it will keep the discussion more manageable to
simplify and to suppose that each desire is considered. We shall not want this
G2 to depend, in each will and act in ways that reveal the motivational
strength of this or that considered desire at the time of action, but for a G3 it
will also be the case that in this or that, though not each) case, it acts on
the basis of how it weights this or that end favoured by this or that
conflicting considered desire. This or that considered desire will concern
matters that cannot be achieved simply by action at a single time. E. g. G3 may
want to nurture a vegetable garden, or build a house. Such matters will require
organized and coordinated action that extends over time. What the G3 does now
will depend not only on what it now desires but also on what it now expects it
will do later given what it does now. It needs a way of settling now what it
will do later given what it does now. The point is even clearer when we remind
ourselves that G3 is not alone. It is, we may assume, one of some number of G3;
and in many cases it needs to coordinate what it does with what other G3 do so
as to achieve ends desired by all participants, itself included. These
costs are magnified for G4 whose various plans are interwoven so that a change
in one element can have significant ripple effects that will need to be
considered. Let us suppose that the general strategies G4 has for responding to
new information about its circumstances are sensitive to these kinds of costs.
Promoting in the long run the satisfaction of its considered desires and
preferences. G4 is a somewhat sophisticated planning agent but
it has a problem. It can expect that its desires and preferences may well
change over time and undermine its efforts at organizing and coordinating its
activities over time. Perhaps in many cases this is due to the kind of temporal
discounting. So for example G4 may have a plan to exercise every day but may
tend to prefer a sequence of not exercising on the present day but exercising
all days in the future, to a uniform sequence the present day included. At the
end of the day it returns to its earlier considered preference in favour of exercising
on each and every day. Though G4, unlike G3, has the capacity to
settle on prior plans or plaices concerning exercise, this capacity does not
yet help in such a case. A creature whose plans were stable in ways in part
shaped by such a no-regret principle would be more likely than G4 to resist
temporary temptations. So let us build such a principle into the stability
of the plans of a G5, whose plans and policies are not derived solely from
facts about its limits of time, attention, and the like. It is also grounded in
the central concerns of a planning agent with its own future, concerns that
lend special significance to anticipated future regret. So let us add to G5 the
capacity and disposition to arrive at such hierarchies of higher-order desires concerning
its will. This gives us creature G6. There is a problem with G6, one that
has been much discussed. It is not clear why a higher-order desire ‒
even a higher-order desire that a certain desire be ones will ‒ is
not simply one more desire in the pool of desires (Berkeley Gods will problem).
Why does it have the authority to constitute or ensure the agents (i. e. the
creatures) endorsement or rejection of a first-order desire? Applied to G6 this
is the question of whether, by virtue solely of its hierarchies of desires, it
really does succeed in taking its own stand of endorsement or rejection of
various first-order desires. Since it was the ability to take its own stand
that we are trying to provide in the move to pirot6, we need some
response to this challenge. The basic point is that G6 is not
merely a time-slice agent. It is, rather, and understands itself to be, a
temporally persisting planning agent, one who begins, and continues, and
completes temporally extended projects. On a broadly Lockean view, its
persistence over time consists in relevant psychological continuities (e.g.,
the persistence of attitudes of belief and intention) and connections (e.g.,
memory of a past event, or the later intentional execution of an intention
formed earlier). Certain attitudes have as a primary role the constitution and
support of such Lockean continuities and connections. In particular, policies
that favour or reject various desires have it as their role to constitute and
support various continuities both of ordinary desires and of the politicos
themselves. For this reason such policies are not merely additional wiggles in
the psychic stew. Instead, these policies have a claim to help determine where
the agent ‒ i.e., the temporally persisting agent ‒ stands with respect to
its desires, orr so it seems to me reasonable to say. The psychology of G7
continues to have the hierarchical structure of pro-attitudes introduced with
G6. The difference is that the higher-order pro-attitudes of G6 were simply
characterized as desires in a broad, generic sense, and no appeal was made to
the distinctive species of pro-attitude constituted by plan-like attitudes.
That is the sense in which the psychology of G7 is an extension of the
psychology of G6. Let us then give G7 such higher-order policies with the
capacity to take a stand with respect to its desires by arriving at relevant
higher-order policies concerning the functioning of those desires over time. G7 exhibits
a merger of hierarchical and planning structures. Appealing to planning theory
and ground in connection to the temporally extended structure of agency to be
ones will. G7 has higher-order policies that favour or challenge motivational
roles of its considered desires. When G7 engages in deliberative weighing of conflicting,
desired ends it seems that the assigned weights should reflect the policies
that determine where it stands with respect to relevant desires. But the
policies we have so far appealed to ‒ policies concerning what desires are to
be ones will ‒ do not quite address this concern. The problem is that one can
in certain cases have policies concerning which desires are to motivate and yet
these not be policies that accord what those desires are for a corresponding
justifying role in deliberation. G8. A solution is to give our creature, G8, the
capacity to arrive at policies that express its commitment to be motivated by a
desire by way of its treatment of that desire as providing, in deliberation, a
justifying end for action. G8 has policies for treating (or not
treating) certain desires as providing justifying ends, as, in this way,
reason-providing, in motivationally effective deliberation. Let us call such
policies self-governing policies. We will suppose that these policies are
mutually compatible and do not challenge each other. In this way G8 involves an
extension of structures already present in G7. The grounds on which G8 arrives
at (and on occasion revises) such self-governing policies will be many and
varied. We can see these policies as crystallizing complex pressures and
concerns, some of which are grounded in other policies or desires. These
self-governing policies may be tentative and will normally not be immune to
change. If we ask what G8 values in this case, the answer seems to be: what it
values is constituted in part by its higher-order self-governing policies. In
particular, it values exercise over nonexercise even right now, and even given
that it has a considered, though temporary, preference to the contrary. Unlike
lower pirots, what pirot8 now values is not simply a matter of
its present, considered desires and preferences. Now this model of pirot-8
seems in relevant aspects to be a partial) model of us, in our better moments,
of course. So we arrive at the conjecture that one important kind of valuing of
which we are capable involves, in the cited ways, both our first-order desires
and our higher order self-governing policies. In an important sub-class of
cases our valuing involves reflexive polices that are both first-order policies
of action and higher-order policies to treat the first-order policy as reason
providing in motivationally effective deliberation. This may seem odd. Valuing
seems normally to be a first-order attitude. One values honesty, say. The
proposal is that an important kind of valuing involves higher-order policies.
Does this mean that, strictly speaking, what one values (in this sense) is
itself a desire ‒ not honesty, say, but a desire for honesty? No, it does not.
What I value in the present case is honesty; but, on the theory, my valuing
honesty in art consists in certain higher-order self-governing policies. An
agents reflective valuing involves a kind of higher-order willing.
INTENTIONALISM: When Anscombe came out with her “Intention” in
1959, Grice’s Play Group did not know what to do! Hampshire had almost finished
writing his “Thought and action” that came out the following year. Grice was
lecturing on how a “dispositional” reductive analysis of ‘intention’ fell short
of his favoured instrospectionalism. Had Grice not fallen for an
intention-based semantics (or strictly, an analysis of "U means that
p" in terms of U intends that p"), he would not have been
obsessed with an analysis of "intending that" James said: "I
will that the distant table slides over the floor toward me. It does not!"
The Anscombe Society. Irish-born Anscombes views are often discussed by Oxonian
philosophers. She had brought Witters to the Dreaming Spires, as it
were. Grice was especially connected with Anscombes reflections on
intention. While Grice favoured an approach such as Hampshire, in Thought
and Action, he borrows a few points from Anscombe, notably that of direction of
fit (originally Austins). Grice explicitly refers to Anscombe in Intention
and uncertainty, and in his reminiscences he hastens to add that Anscombe would
never attend any of Austins Saturday mornings, as neither would
Dummett. Ryles view is standardly characterised as a weaker or softer
version of behaviourism According to this standard interpretation, Ryles view
is that statements containing psychological terms can be translated, without
loss of meaning, into subjunctive conditionals about what the individual will
do in various circumstances. So Ryle (on this account) is to be construed as
offering a dispositional analysis of psychological statements into behavioural
ones. It is conceded that Ryle does not confine his descriptions of what the
agent will do (under the circumstances) to purely physical behaviour—in terms,
say, of skeletal or muscular descriptions—but is happy to speak of full-bodied
actions like scoring a goal or paying a debt. But the soft behaviourism
attributed to Ryle still attempts an analysis (or translation) of psychological
statements into a s. of dispositional statements which are themselves construed
as subjunctive if describing what the agent will do (albeit under the relevant
action description) under various circumstances. Even this soft behaviourism is
bound to fail, however, since psychological vocabulary is not analysable or
translatable into behavioural statements even if these are allowed to
include descriptions of actions. For the list of conditions and possible
behaviour will be infinite since any one proffered translation can be defeated
by slight alteration of the circumstances; and the defeating conditions in any
particular case may involve a reference to facts about the agents mind, thereby
rendering the analysis circular. In sum, the standard interpretation of Ryle
construes him as offering a somewhat weakened form of reductive behaviourism
whose reductivist ambitions, however weakened, are nonetheless futile. But
this characterisation of Ryles programme is simply wrong. Although it is true
that Ryle was keen to point out the dispositional nature of many psychological
concepts, it would be wrong to construe him as offering a programme of analysis
of psychological predicates into a s. of subjunctive conditionals. The
relationship between psychological predicates and the if sentences with which
we can unpack them is other than that required by this kind of
analysis. It will be helpful to keep in mind that Ryles target is the
official doctrine with its attendant ontological, epistemological, and semantic
commitments. His arguments serve to remind us that we have in a large number of
cases ways of telling or settling disputes, for example, about someones
character or intellect. If you dispute my characterisation of someone as
believing or wanting something, I will point to what he says and does in
defending my particular attribution (as well as to features of the
circumstances). But our practice of giving reasons of this kind to defend or to
challenge ascriptions of mental predicates would be put under substantial
pressure if the official doctrine were correct. For Ryle to remind us that
we do, as a matter of fact, have a way of settling disputes about whether
someone is vain or whether she is in pain is much weaker than saying that a
concept is meaningless unless it is verifiable; or even that the successful
application of mental predicates requires that we have a way of settling disputes
in all cases. Showing that a concept is one for which, in a large number of
cases, we have agreement-reaching procedures (even if these do not always
guarantee success) captures an important point, however: it counts against any
theory, say, of vanity or pain that would render it unknowable in
principle or in practice whether or not the concept is correctly
applied in every case. And this was precisely the problem with the official
doctrine (and is still a problem, as I suggested earlier, with some of its contemporary
progeny). Ryle points out in a later essay that there is a form of dilemma
that pits the reductionist against the duplicationist: those
whose battle cry is Nothing but… and those who insist on Something else as
Well…. Ryle attempts a dissolution of these types of dilemma by rejecting the
two horns; not by taking sides with either one, though part of what dissolution
requires in this case, as in others, is a description of how both sides are to
be commended for seeing what the other side does not, and criticised for
failing to see what the other side does. The attraction of behaviourism,
he reminds us, is simply that it does not insist on occult happenings as the
basis upon which all mental terms are given meaning, and points to the perfectly
observable criteria that are by and large employed when we are called upon to
defend or correct our employment of these mental terms. The problem with
behaviourism is that it has a too-narrow view both of what counts as behaviour
and of what counts as observable. Grice plays with meaning in 1972 when he
allows for this or that avowal of this or that souly state may be deemed in
some fashion, incorrigible. For Grice, an utterer has privileged access to
every souly state. But only his or that avowal of this or that souly state may
be said or deemed to be incorrigible. And this concerns communication (and
meaning). Hell go back to this at Brighton. In 1972 he plays with G judges that
it is raining, G judges that G judges that it is raining (G judges2 that
it is raining). If G expresses that it is raining, G judges2 that
it is raining. This second-order avowal may be deemed incorrigible.
MODE: Grice was a modista. The earliest record is of course
“Meaning.” After elucidating what he calls ‘informative cases,’ he moves to
‘imperative’ ones. Grice agreed with Thomas Urquhart that English needed a few
more moods! H. P. GRICES SEVEN MODES. Thirteenthly, In lieu of six Moods
which other Languages have at most, this one injoyeth SEVEN in its conjugable
words. Ayer had said that non-indicative utterances are hardly
significant. Grice had been freely using the very English (not Latinate) mood
until Moravcsik, of all people, corrected him: What you mean aint a
mood. I shall call it mode just to please you, J. M. E. The sergeant is to
muster the men at dawn is a perfect imperative. They shall not pass is a
perfect intentional. A version of this essay was presented in a conference
whose proceedings were published, except for Grices essay, due to technical
complications, viz. his idiosyncratic use of idiosyncratic symbology! By
mode Grice means indicative or imperative. Following Davidson, Grice attaches
probability to the indicative, via the doxastic, and desirability to the
indicative, via the buletic-boulomaic. He also allows for mixed
utterances. Probability is qualified with a suboperator indicating a degree d;
ditto for desirability, degree d. In some of the drafts, Grice kept using mode
until Moravsik suggested to him that mode was a better choice, seeing that
Grices modality had little to do with what other authors were referring to as
mood. Probability, desirability, and modality, modality, desirability, and
probability, : modality, probability, desirability He would use mode
operator. Modality is the more correct term, for things like should,
ought, and must, in that order. One sense. The doxastic modals are
correlated to probability. The buletic or boulomaic modals are correlated to
desirability. There is probability to a degree d. But there is also
desirability to a degree d. They both combine in Grices attempt to
show how Kants categorical imperative reduces to the hypothetical or
suppositional. Kant uses modality in a way that Grice disfavours, preferring
modus. Grice is aware that Kants use of modality is qua category (Kants
reduction to four of Aristotles original ten categories). The Jeffrey-style
entitled Probability, desirability, and mode operators finds Grice at his
formal-dress best. It predates the Kant lectures and it got into so much detail
that Grice had to leave it at that. So abstract it hurts. Going further than
Davidson, Grice argues that structures expressing probability and desirability
are not merely analogous. They can both be replaced by more complex structures
containing a common element. Generalising over attitudes using the symbol ψ,
which he had used before, repr. WoW:v, Grice proposes G ψ that p. Further,
Grice uses i as a dummy for sub-divisions of psychological attitudes. Grice
uses Op supra i sub α, read: operation supra i sub alpha, as Grice was
fastidious enough to provide reading versions for these, and where α is a dummy
taking the place of either A or B, i. e. Davidsons prima facie or desirably,
and probably. In all this, Grice keeps using the primitive !, where a more
detailed symbolism would have it correspond exactly to Freges composite
turnstile (horizontal stroke of thought and vertical stroke of assertoric force,
Urteilstrich) that Grice of course also uses, and for which it is proposed,
then: !─p. There are generalising movements here but also merely specificatory
ones. α is not generalised. α is a dummy to serve as a blanket for
this or that specifications. On the other hand, ψ is indeed generalised. As for
i, is it generalising or specificatory? i is a dummy for specifications, so it
is not really generalising. But Grice generalises over specifications. Grice
wants to find buletic, boulomaic or volitive as he prefers when he does not
prefer the Greek root for both his protreptic and exhibitive versions (operator
supra exhibitive, autophoric, and operator supra protreptic, or hetero-phoric).
Note that Grice (WoW:110) uses the asterisk * as a dummy for either assertoric,
i.e., Freges turnstile, and non-assertoric, the !─ the imperative turnstile, if
you wish. The operators A are not mode operators; they are such that they
represent some degree (d) or measure of acceptability or justification. Grice
prefers acceptability because it connects with accepting that which is a
psychological, souly attitude, if a general one. Thus, Grice wants to
have It is desirable that p and It is believable that p as
understood, each, by the concatenation of three elements. The first element is
the A-type operator. The second element is the protreptic-type operator. The
third element is the phrastic, root, content, or proposition itself. It is
desirable that p and It is believable that p share the
utterer-oriented-type operator and the neustic or proposition. They only differ
at the protreptic-type operator (buletic/volitive/boulomaic or
judicative/doxastic). Grice uses + for concatenation, but it is best to use ^,
just to echo who knows who. Grice speaks in that mimeo (which he delivers in
Texas, and is known as Grices Performadillo talk ‒ Armadillo + Performative) of
various things. Grice speaks, transparently enough, of acceptance: V-acceptance
and J-acceptance. V not for Victory but for volitional, and J for judicative.
The fact that both end with -acceptance would accept you to believe that both
are forms of acceptance. Grice irritatingly uses 1 to mean the doxastic, and 2
to mean the bulematic. At Princeton in Method, he defines the doxastic in terms
of the buletic and cares to do otherwise, i. e. define the buletic in terms of
the doxastic. So whenever he wrote buletic in 1973, read doxastic, and vice
versa. One may omits this arithmetic when reporting on Grices use. Grice uses
two further numerals, though: 3 and 4. These, one may decipher – one finds oneself
as an archeologist in Tutankamons burial ground, as this or that relexive
attitude. Thus, 3, i. e. ψ3, where we need the general operator ψ, not
just specificatory dummy, but the idea that we accept something simpliciter. ψ3
stands for the attitude of buletically accepting an or utterance: doxastically
accepting that p or doxastically accepting that ~p. Why we should be concerned
with ~p is something to consider. G wants to decide whether to believe p
or not. I find that very Griceian. Suppose I am told that there is a volcano in
Iceland. Why would I not want to believe it? It seems that one may want to
decide whether to believe p or not when p involves a tacit appeal to value.
But, as Grice notes, even when it does not involve value, Grice still needs trust
and volition to reign supreme. On the other hand, theres 4, as attached to an
attitude, ψ4. This stands for an attitude of buletically accepting an or
utterance: buletically accepting that p, or G buletically accepting that ~p, i.
e. G wants to decide whether to will, now that p or not. This indeed is
crucial, since, for Grice, morality, as with Kantotle, does cash in desire, the
buletic. Grice smokes. He wills to smoke. But does he will to will to smoke?
Possibly yes. Does he will to will to will to smoke? Regardless of what Grice
wills, one may claim this holds for a serious imperatives (not Thou shalt not
reek, but Though shalt not kill, say) or for any p if you must (because if you
know that p causes cancer (p stands for a proposition involving cigarette) you
should know you are killing yourself. But then time also kills, so what gives?
So I would submit that, for Kant, the categoric imperative is one which allows
for an indefinite chain, not of chain-smokers, but of good-willers. If, for
some p, we find that at some stage, the pirot does not will that he wills that
he wills that he wills that, p can not be universalisable. This is proposed in
an essay referred to in The Philosophers Index but Marlboro Cigarettes took no
notice. One may go on to note Grices obsession on make believe. If I say, I
utter expression e because the utterer wants his addressee to believe that the
utterer believes that p, there is utterer and addresse, i. e. there are two
people here ‒ or any soul-endowed creature ‒ for Grices
squarrel means things to Grice. It even implicates. It miaows to me while I was
in bed. He utters miaow. He means that he is hungry, he means (via implicatum)
that he wants a nut (as provided by me). On another occasion he miaowes
explicating, The door is closed, and implicating Open it, idiot. On the other
hand, an Andy-Capps cartoon read: When budgies get sarcastic Wild-life
programmes are repeating One may note that one can want some other person
to hold an attitude. Grice uses U or G1 for utterer and A or G2 for addressee.
These are merely roles. The important formalism is indeed G1 and G2. G1 is a
Griceish utterer-person; G2 is the other person, G1s addressee. Grice dislikes
a menage a trois, apparently, for he seldom symbolises a third party, G3. So, G
ψ-3-A that p is 1 just in case G ψ2(G ψ1 that p) or G ψ1 that ~p is 1. And here
the utterers addressee, G2 features: G1 ψ³ protreptically that p is 1 just
in case G buletically accepts ψ² (G buletically accepts ψ² (G doxastically
accepts ψ1 that p, or G doxastically accepts ψ1 that ~p))) is 1. Grice seems to
be happy with having reached four sets of operators, corresponding to four sets
of propositional attitudes, and for which Grice provides the paraphrases. The
first set is the doxastic proper. It is what Grice has as doxastic,and which
is, strictly, either indicative, of the utterers doxastic, exhibitive state, as
it were, or properly informative, if addressed to the addressee A, which is
different from U himself, for surely one rarely informs oneself. The second is
the buletic proper. What Grice dubs volitive, but sometimes he prefers the
Grecian root. This is again either self- or utterer-addressed, or
utterer-oriented, or auto-phoric, and it is intentional, or it is
other-addressed, or addressee-addressed, or addressee- oriented, or
hetero-phoric, and it is imperative, for surely one may not always say to
oneself, Dont smoke, idiot!. The third is the doxastic-interrogative, or
doxastic-erotetic. One may expand on ? here is minimal compared to the vagaries
of what I called the !─ (non-doxastic or buletic turnstile), and which may be
symbolised by ?─p, where ?─ stands for the erotetic turnstile. Geachs and
Althams erotetic somehow Grice ignores, as he more often uses the Latinate
interrogative. interrŏgātĭo , ōnis, f. id., I.a questioning, inquiry,
examination, interrogation (class.).I. In gen.: sententia per interrogationem,
Quint. 8, 5, 5: instare interrogatione, id. 6, 3, 38: testium, Tac. A. 6, 47:
insidiosa, Plin. Ep. 1, 5, 7: litteris inclusæ, Dig. 48, 3, 6, § 1. Absol.,
Cic. Fam. 1, 9, 7; Quint. 5, 7, 3: verbis obligatio fit ex interrogatione et
responsione, Gai. Inst. 2, 92. II. In partic. A. As rhet. fig., Quint. 9, 2,
15; 9, 3, 98. B. A syllogism: recte genus hoc interrogationis ignavum ac iners
nominatum est, Cic. Fat. 13; Sen. Ep. 87 med. Surely more people know what
interrogative means what erotetic means, he would not say ‒ but he would. This
attitude comes again in two varieties: self-addressed or utterer-oriented,
reflective (Should I go?) or again, addresee-addressed, or addressee-oriented,
imperative, as in Should you go?, with a strong hint that the utterer is
expecting is addressee to make up his mind in the proceeding, not just inform
the utterer. Last but not least, there is the fourth kind, the
buletic-cum-erotetic. Here again, there is one varietiy which is
reflective, autophoric, as Grice prefers, utterer-addressed, or
utterer-oriented, or inquisitive (for which Ill think of a Greek pantomime), or
addressee-addressed, or addressee-oriented. Grice regrets that Greek (and
Latin, of which he had less ‒ cfr. Shakespeare who had none) fares better in
this respect the Oxonian that would please Austen, if not Austin, or Maucalay,
and certainly not Urquhart -- his language has twelve parts of speech: each
declinable in eleven cases, four numbers, eleven genders (including god,
goddess, man, woman, animal, etc.); and conjugable in eleven tenses, seven
moods, and four voices.These vocal mannerisms will result in the production of
some pretty barbarous English sentences; but we must remember that what I shall
be trying to do, in uttering such sentences, will be to represent supposedly
underlying structure; if that is ones aim, one can hardly expect that ones
speech-forms will be such as to excite the approval of, let us say, Jane Austen
or Lord Macaulay. Cf. the quessertive, or quessertion, possibly iterable,
that Grice cherished. But then you cant have everything. Where would you put
it? Grice: The modal implicatum.
Grice sees two different, though connected questions about
mode. First, there is the obvious demand for a characterisation, or
partial characterisation, of this or that mode as it emerges in this or that
conversational move, which is plausible to regard as modes primary habitat) both
at the level of the explicatum or the implicatum, for surely an indicative
conversational move may be the vehicle of an imperatival implicatum. A second,
question is how, and to what extent, the representation of mode (Hares neustic)
which is suitable for application to this or that conversational move may be
legitimately exported into philosophical psychology, or rather, may be grounded
on questions of philosophical psychology, matters of this or that psychological
state, stance, or attitude (notably desire and belief, and their
sub-specifications). We need to consider the second question, the
philosophico- psychological question, since, if the general rationality
operator is to read as something like acceptability, as in U accepts, or A
accepts, the appearance of this or that mode within its scope of accepting is
proper only if it may properly occur within the scope of a generic
psychological verb I accept that . Thus we find in Short and Lewis, accepto,
āvi, ātum, 1, v. freq. a. accipio, which Short and Lewis render as to take,
receive, accept, “argentum,” Plaut. Ps. 2, 2, 32; so Quint. 12, 7, 9; Curt. 4,
6, 5; Dig. 34, 1, 9: “jugum,” to submit to, Sil. Ital. 7, 41. (But in Plin. 36,
25, 64, the correct read. is coeptavere; v. Sillig. a. h. l.). The easiest
way Grice finds to expound his ideas on the first question is by reference to a
schematic table or diagram (Some have complained that I seldom use a board, but
I will today. Grice at this point reiterates his temporary contempt for
the use/mention distinction, which which Strawson is obsessed. Perhaps
Grices contempt is due to Strawsons obsession. Grices exposition would make the
hair stand on end in the soul of a person especially sensitive in this area.
And Im talking to you, Sir Peter! (He is on the second row). But
Grices guess is that the only historical philosophical mistake properly
attributable to use/mention confusion is Russells argument against Frege in On
denoting, and that there is virtually always an acceptable way of eliminating
disregard of the use-mention distinction in a particular case, though the
substitutes are usually lengthy, obscure, and tedious. Grice makes three
initial assumptions. He avails himself of two species of acceptance, Namesly,
volitive acceptance and judicative acceptance, which he, on occasion, calls
respectively willing that p and willing that p. These are to be
thought of as technical or semi-technical, theoretical or semi-theoretical,
though each is a state which approximates to what we vulgarly call thinking
that p and wanting that p, especially in the way in which we can speak of a
beast such as a little squarrel as thinking or wanting something ‒ a
nut, poor darling little thing. Grice here treats each will and judge (and
accept) as a primitive. The proper interpretation would be determined by
the role of each in a folk-psychological theory (or sequence of
folk-psychological theories), of the type the Wilde reader in mental philosophy
favours at Oxford, designed to account for the behaviours of members of the
animal kingdom, at different levels of psychological complexity (some classes
of creatures being more complex than others, of course). As Grice suggests in Us
meaning, sentence-meaning, and word-meaning, at least at the point at which
(Schema Of Procedure-Specifiers For Mood-Operators) in ones
syntactico-semantical theory of Pirotese or Griceish, one is introducing this
or that mode (and possibly earlier), the proper form to use is a specifier for this
or that resultant procedure. Such a specifier would be of the general
form, For the utterer U to utter x if , where the blank is replaced
by the appropriate condition. Since in the preceding scheme x represents an
utterance (or expression), and not a sentence or open sentence, there is no
guarantee that this or that actual sentence in Pirotese or Griceish will
contain a perspicuous and unambiguous modal representation. A sentence may
correspond to more than one modal structure. The sentence will then
be structurally ambiguous (multiplex in meaning ‒ under the proviso
that senses are not to be multiplied beyond necessity) and will have more than
one reading, or parsing, as every schoolboy at Clifton knows when translating
viva voce from Greek or Latin, as the case might be! The general form of a
procedure-specifier for a modal operator involves a main clause and an
antecedent clause, which follows if. In the schematic representation of the
main clause, U represents an utterer, A his addressee, p the radix or neustic;
and Opi represents that operator whose number is i (1, 2, 3, or 4), e.g
g., Op3A represents Operator 3A, which, since ?⊢
appears in the Operator column for 3A) would be ?A ⊢ p.
This reminds one of Grandys quessertions, for he did think they were iterable
(possibly)). The antecedent clause consists of a sequence whose elements
are a preamble, as it were, or preface, or prefix, a supplement to a
differential (which is present only in a B-type, or addressee-oriented case), a
differential, and a radix. The preamble, which is always present, is
invariant, and reads: The U U wills (that) A A judges (that) U (For surely meaning is a species of intending
is a species of willing that, alla Prichard, Whites professor,
Corpus). The supplement, if present, is also invariant. And the idea
behind its varying presence or absence is connected, in the first instance,
with the volitive mode. The difference between an ordinary expression of
intention ‒ such as I shall not fail, or They shall not
pass ‒ and an ordinary imperative (Like Be a little kinder to
him) is accommodated by treating each as a sub-mode of the volitive mode,
relates to willing that p) In the intentional case (I shall not fail), the
utterer U is concerned to reveal to his addressee A that he (the utterer U)
wills that p. In the imperative case (They shall not pass), the utterer U is
concerned to reveal to his addressee A that the utterer U wills that the
addresee A will that p. In each case, of course, it is to be
presumed that willing that p will have its standard outcome, viz., the
actualization, or realisation, or direction of fit, of the radix (from expression
to world, downwards). There is a corresponding distinction between two uses of
an indicative. The utterer U may be declaring or affirming that p, in
an exhibitive way, with the primary intention to get his addressee A to judge
that the utterer judges that p. Or the U is telling (in a protreptic way)
ones addressee that p, that is to say, hoping to get his addressee to
judge that p. In the case of an indicative, unlike that of a volitive, there is
no explicit pair of devices which would ordinarily be thought of as sub-mode
marker. The recognition of the sub-mode is implicated, and comes from
context, from the vocative use of the Names of the addressee, from the presence
of a speech-act verb, or from a sentence-adverbial phrase (like for your
information, so that you know, etc.). But Grice has already, in his
initial assumptions, allowed for such a situation. The
exhibitive-protreptic distinction or autophoric-heterophoric distinction, seems
to Grice to be also discernible in the interrogative mode (?). Each differentials
is associated with, and serve to distinguish, each of the two basic modes
(volitive or judicative) and, apart from one detail in the case of the
interrogative mode, is invariant between autophoric-exhibitive) and
heterophoric-protreptic sub-modes of any of the two basic modes. They are
merely unsupplemented or supplemented, the former for an exhibitive sub-mode
and the latter for a protreptic sub-mode. The radix needs (one hopes) no
further explanation, except that it might be useful to bear in mind that Grice
does not stipulated that the radix for an intentional (buletic exhibitive
utterer-based) incorporate a reference to the utterer, or be in the first
person, nor that the radix for an imperative (buletic protreptic
addressee-based) incorporate a reference of the addresee, and be in the second
person. They shall not pass is a legitimate intentional, as is You shall
not get away with it; and The sergeant is to muster the men at dawn, as uttered
said by the captain to the lieutenant) is a perfectly good
imperative. Grice gives in full the two specifiers derived from the
schema. U U to utter to A A autophoric-exhibitive ⊢ p
if U wills that A judges that U judges p. Again, U to utter to A A !
heterophoric-protreptic p if U wills that A A judges that U wills that A A
wills that p. Since, of the states denoted by each differential, only
willing that p and judging that p are strictly cases of accepting that p, and
Grices ultimate purpose of his introducing this characterization of mode is to
reach a general account of expressions which are to be conjoined, according to
his proposal, with an acceptability operator, the first two numbered rows of
the figure are (at most) what he has a direct use for. But since it is of
some importance to Grice that his treatment of mode should be (and should
be thought to be) on the right lines, he adds a partial account of the
interrogative mode. There are two varieties of interrogatives, a yes/no
interrogatives (e. g. Is his face clean? Is the king of France bald? Is virtue
a fire-shovel?) and x-interrogatives, on which Grice qua philosopher was
particularly interested, v. his The that and the why. (Who killed Cock
Robin?, Where has my beloved gone?, How did he fix it?). The specifiers
derivable from the schema provide only for yes/no interrogatives, though the
figure could be quite easily amended so as to yield a restricted but very large
class of x-interrogatives. Grice indicates how this could be
done. The distinction between a buletic and a doxastic interrogative corresponds
with the difference between a case in which the utterer U indicates that he is,
in one way or another, concerned to obtain information (Is he at home?), and a
case in which the utterer U indicates that he is concerned to settle a problem
about what he is to do ‒ Am I to leave the door open?, Shall I go on reading?
or, with an heterophoric Subjects, Is the prisoner to be released? This
difference is fairly well represented in grammar, and much better represented
in the grammars of some other languages. The hetero-phoric-cum-protreptic/auto-phoric-cum-
exhibitive difference may not marked at all in this or that grammar, but
it should be marked in Pirotese. This or that sub-mode is, however, often quite
easily detectable. There is usually a recognizable difference between a
case in which the utterer A says, musingly or reflectively, Is he to be
trusted? ‒ a case in which the utterer might say that he is just
wondering ‒ and a case in which he utters a token of the same
sentence as an enquiry. Similarly, one can usually tell whether an utterer A
who utters Shall I accept the invitation? is just trying to make up his
mind, or is trying to get advice or instruction from his addressee. The
employment of the variable α needs to be explained. Grice borrows a little
from an obscure branch of logic, once (but maybe no longer) practised, called,
Grice thinks, proto-thetic ‒ Why? Because it deals with this or that first
principle or axiom, or thesis), the main rite in which is to quantify over, or
through, this or that connective. α is to have as its two substituents
positively and negatively, which may modify either will or judge, negatively
willing or negatively judging that p is judging or willing that ~p. The
quantifier (∃1α) . . . has to be treated
substitutionally. If, for example, I ask someone whether John killed Cock
Robin (protreptic case), I do not want the addressee merely to will that I have
a particular logical quality in mind which I believe to apply. I want the
addressee to have one of the Qualities in mind which he wants me to believe to
apply. To meet this demand, supplementation must drag back the
quantifier. To extend the schema so as to provide specifiers for a single
x-interrogative (i. e., a question like What did the butler see? rather than a
question like Who went where with whom at 4 oclock yesterday afternoon?),
we need just a little extra apparatus. We need to be able to superscribe a
W in each interrogative operator e.g., together with the proviso that a radix
which follows a superscribed operator must be an open radix, which contains one
or more occurrences of just one free variable. And we need a chameleon
variable λ, to occur only in this or that quantifier. (∃λ).Fx
is to be regarded as a way of writing (∃x)Fx. (∃λ)Fy
is a way of writing (∃y)Fy. To provide a specifier for a
x-superscribed operator, we simply delete the appearances of α in the specifier
for the corresponding un-superscribed operator, inserting instead the
quantifier (∃1λ) () at the position previously occupied by (∃1α)
(). E.g. the specifiers for Who killed Cock Robin?, used as an enquiry,
would be: U to utter to A killed Cock
Robin if U wills A to judge U to will that (∃1λ) (A should will that U
judges (x killed Cock Robin)); in which (∃1λ) takes on the shape (∃1x)
since x is the free variable within its scope. Grice compares his
buletic-doxastic distinction to Aristotles prohairesis/doxa distinction in
Ethica Nichomachea. Perhaps his simplest formalisation is via subscripts: I
will-b but will-d not.
SOUL: Freud challenged the power structure of Platos soul: its the
libido that takes control, not the logos. Grice takes up this polemic.
Aristotle takes up Platos challenge, each type of soul is united to the next by
the idea of life. The animal soul, between the vegetative and the rational, is
not detachable.
Grice delivers The John Dewey lecture, a version of Princeton
lectures [note plural] on philosophical psychology, March 1972.
DISIMPLICATURE: The target is of course Davidson having the cheek
to quote Grice’s Henriette Herz Trust lecture for the British Academy! Lewis and
Short have ‘intendere’ under ‘in-tendo,’ di, tum and sum, 3, v. a. ( I.part.
intenditus, Fronto, Fer. Als. 3, 11 Mai.).They render it as ‘to stretch out or
forth, extend, also to turn ones attention to, exert one’s self for, to
purpose, endeavour,” and finaly as “intend”! “pergin, sceleste, intendere hanc
arguere?” Plaut. Mil. 2, 4, 27 Grices tends towards claiming that you
cannot extend what you dont intend. In the James lectures, Grice mentions the
use of is to mean seem (The tie is red in this light), and see to mean
hallucinate. The reductive analyses of being and seeing hold. We have here two
cases of loose use (or disimplicature). Same now with his example in Intention
and uncertainty: Smith intends to climb Mt. Everest + [common-ground status:
this is difficult]. Grices response to Davidsons pretty unfair use of Grices
notion of conversational implicature in Davidsons analysis of intention caught
a lot of interest. Pears loved Grices reply. Implicatum here is out of the
question ‒ disimplicatum may not. Grice just saw that his theory of
conversation is too social to be true when applied to intending. The doxastic
condition is one of the entailments in an ascription of an intending. It cannot
be cancelled as an implicatum can. If it can be cancelled, it is best seen as a
disimplicatum, or a loose use by an utterer meaning less than what he says or
explicitly conveys to more careful conversants. Grice and Davidson were
members of The Grice and Davidson Mutual Admiration Society. Davidson, not
being Oxonian, was perhaps not acquainted with Grices polemics at Oxford with
Hart and Hampshire (where Grice sided with Pears, rather). Grice and Pears
hold a minimalist approach to intending. On the other hand, Davidson makes
what Grice sees as the same mistake again of building certainty into the
concept. Grice finds that to apply the idea of a conversational implicatum
at this point is too social to be true. Rather, Grice prefers to coin the
conversational disimplicatum: Marmaduke Bloggs intends to climb Mt Everest
on hands and knees. The utterance above, if merely reporting what Bloggs
thinks, may involve a loose use of intends. The certainty on the agents
part on the success of his enterprise is thus cast with doubt. Davidson
was claiming that the agents belief in the probability of the object of the
agents intention was a mere conversational implicatum on the utterers part. Grice
responds that the ascription of such a belief is an entailment of a strict use
of intend, even if, in cases where the utterer aims at a conversational
disimplicatum, it can be dropped. The addressee will still regard
the utterer as abiding by the principle of conversational helpfulness. Pears
was especially interested in the Davidson-Grice polemic on intending,
disimplicature, disimplicature, . Strictly, a section of his reply to
Davidson. If Grices claim to fame is implicature, he finds disimplicature an
intriguing notion to capture those occasions when an utterer means LESS than he
says. His examples include: a loose use of intending (without the entailment of
the doxastic condition), the uses of see in Shakespeareian contexts (Macbeth
saw Banquo, Hamlet saw his father on the ramparts of Elsinore) and the use of
is to mean seems (That tie is blue under this light, but green otherwise, when
both conversants know that a change of colour is out of the question. He plays
with Youre the cream in my coffee being an utterance where the disimplicature
(i.e. entailment dropping) is total. Disimplicature does not appeal to a new
principle of conversational rationality. It is perfectly accountable by the
principle of conversational helpfulness, in particular, the desideratum of
conversational candour. In everyday
explanation we exploit, as Grice notes, an immense richness in the family of
expressions that might be thought of as the wanting family. This wanting family
includes expressions like want, desire, would like to, is eager to, is anxious
to, would mind not…, the idea of appeals
to me, is thinking of, etc. As Grice remarks, The likeness and differences
within this wanting family demand careful attention. In commenting
on Davidsons treatment of wanting in Intending, Grice notes: It seems to Grice
that the picture of the soul suggested by Davidsons treatment of wanting is
remarkably tranquil and, one might almost say, computerized. It is the picture
of an ideally decorous board meeting, at which the various heads of sections
advance, from the standpoint of their particular provinces, the case for or
against some proposed course of action. In the end the chairman passes
judgement, effective for action; normally judiciously, though sometimes he is
for one reason or another over-impressed with the presentation made by some
particular member. Grices soul doesnt seem to him, a lot of the time, to be
like that at all. It is more like a particularly unpleasant department meeting,
in which some members shout, wont listen, and suborn other members to lie on
their behalf; while the chairman, who is often himself under suspicion of
cheating, endeavours to impose some kind of order; frequently to no effect,
since sometimes the meeting breaks up in disorder, sometimes, though it appears
to end comfortably, in reality all sorts of enduring lesions are set up, and
sometimes, whatever the outcome of the meeting, individual members go off and
do things unilaterally. Could it be that Davidson, of the New World, and Grice,
of the Old World, have different idiolects regarding intend? Could well be! It
is said that the New World is prone to hyperbole, so perhaps in Grices more
cautious use, intend is restricted to the conditions HE wants it to restrict it
too! Odd that for all the generosity he displays in Post-war Oxford philosophy
(Surely I can help you analyse you concept of this or that, even if my use of
the corresponding expression does not agree with yours), he goes to attack
Davidson, and just for trying to be nice and apply the conversational
implicatum to intend! Genial Grice! It is natural Davidson, with his
naturalistic tendencies, would like to see intending as merely invoking in a
weak fashion the idea of a strong psychological state as belief. And its
natural that Grice hated that!
Grice delivers Presidential Address at the American Philosophical
Association. As he notes in a footnote in its publication in the Proceedings,
he first ‘published’ his views on these matters at Princeton in 1972 (Vide:
1972)
Very Super.
COMMUNICATION: This is Grice’s clearest anti-animist attack by
Grice. He had joins Hume in mocking causing and willing: The decapitation of
Charles I as willing Charles Is death. Language semantics alla Tarski. Grice
know sees his former self. If he was obsessed, after Ayer, with mean, he now
wants to see if his explanation of it (then based on his pre-theoretic
intuition) is theoretically advisable in terms other than dealing with those
pre-theoretical facts, i.e. how he deals with a lexeme like mean. This is a bit
like Grice: implicatum, revisited. An axiological approach to meaning. Strictly
a reprint of Grice (1976), which should be the preferred citation. The date
1976 is given by Grice himself, and he knew! Grice also composed some notes on
Remnants on meaning, by Schiffer. This is a bit like Grices meaning
re-revisited. Schiffer had been Strawsons tutee at Oxford as a Rhode Scholar in
the completion of his D. Phil. on Meaning (later published by Clarendon).
Eventually, Schiffer grew sceptic, and let Grice know about it! Grice did not
find Schiffers arguments totally destructive, but saw the positive side to
them. Schiffers arguments should remind any philosopher that the issues he is
dealing are profound and bound to involve much elucidation before they are
solved. This is a bit like Grice: implicatum, revisited. Meaning revisited (an
ovious nod to Evelyn Waughs Yorkshire-set novel) is the title Grice chose for a
contribution to a symposium at Brighton organised by Smith. Meaning revisited
(although Grice has earlier drafts entitled Meaning and philosophical
psychology) comprises three sections. In the first section, Grice is concerned
with the application of his M. O. R., or Modified Occams Razor now to the very
lexeme, mean. Cf. How many senses does sense have? Cohen: The Senses of Senses.
In the second part, Grice explores an evolutionary model of creature
construction reaching a stage of non-iconic representation. Finally, in the
third section, motivated to solve what he calls a major problem ‒
versus the minor problem concerning the transition from utterers meaning
to expression meaning ‒ Grice attempts to construct meaning as a
value-paradeigmatic notion. A version was indeed published in the proceedings
of the Brighton symposium, by Croom Helm, London. Grice has a couple of other
drafts with variants on this title: philosophical psychology and meaning,
psychology and meaning. He kept, meaningfully, changing the order! It is not
arbitrary that Grices fascinating exploration is in three parts. In the first,
where he applies his Modified Occams razor to mean, he is revisiting Stevenson.
Smoke means fire and I mean love, dont need different senses of mean. And
Stevenson was right when using scare quotes for the Smoke means fire utterance.
Grice was very much aware that that, the rather obtuse terminology of senses,
was exactly the terminology he had adopted in both Meaning and the relevant James
lectures (V and VI) at Harvard! Now, its time to revisit and to echo Graves,
say, goodbye to all that! In the second part he applies pirotology. While he
knows his audience is not philosophical ‒ its not Oxford ‒ he thinks
they still may get some entertainment! We have a pirot feeling pain, simulating
it, and finally uttering, I am in pain. In the concluding section, Grice
becomes Plato. He sees meaning as an optimum, i.e. a value-paradeigmatic notion
introducing value in its guise of optimality. Much like Plato thought circle
works in his idiolect. Grice played with various titles, in the Grice
Collection. Theres philosophical psychology and meaning. The reason is obvious.
The lecture is strictly divided in sections, and its only natural that Grice kept
drafts of this or that section in his collection. In WOW , Grice notes that he
re-visited his Meaning re-visited in 1980, too! And he meant it! Surely, there
is no way to understand at least the FOUR stages of Grices development of his
ideas about meaning (1948, 1967, 1976 and 1987) without Peirce! It is obvious
here that Grice thought that mean two figurative or metabolical extensions of
use. Smoke means fire AND Smoke means smoke. The latter is a transferred use in
that impenetrability means lets change the topic if Dumpty m-intends that it
and Alice are to change the topic.
IMPERATIVE MODE: Grice loved an imperative. In this essay, Grice
attempts an exploration of the logical form of Kant’s concoction. Grice is
especially irritated by the ‘the.’ ‘They speak of Kant’s categorical
imperative, when he cared to formulate a few versions of it!” Grice lists them.The
first version goes as follows. “Handle nur nach derjenigen Maxime, durch die du
zugleich wollen kannst, dass sie ein allgemeines Gesetz werde.”The second
version goes as follows.“Handle nach der Maxime, die sich selbst zugleich zum
allgemeinen Gesetze machen kann. The third version goes as follows:“Handle so,
daß die Maxime deines Willens jederzeit zugleich als Prinzip einer allgemeinen
Gesetzgebung gelten könne.”The fourth version goes as follows:“Handle so, daß
der Wille durch seine Maxime sich selbst zugleich als allgemein gesetzgebend
betrachten könne.”The fifth version goes as follows: “Handle so, dass du die
Menschheit sowohl in deiner Person, als in der Person eines jeden anderen
jederzeit zugleich als Zweck, niemals bloß als Mittel brauchst.”The sixth
version goes as follows:“Denn vernünftige Wesen stehen alle unter dem Gesetz,
dass jedes derselben sich selbst und alle andere niemals bloß als Mittel,
sondern jederzeit zugleich als Zweck an sich selbst behandeln solle.”The seventh
version goes as follows:“Naturgesetzformel Reich-der-Zwecke-Formel: Handle so,
als ob die Maxime deiner Handlung durch deinen Willen zum allgemeinen
Naturgesetze werden sollte.”The eighth version goes as follows:“Handle nach
Maximen, die sich selbst zugleich als allgemeine Naturgesetze zum Gegenstande
haben können.”The ninth version goes as follows: “Demnach muß ein jedes
vernünftige Wesen so handeln, als ob es durch seine Maximen jederzeit ein
gesetzgebendes Glied im allgemeinen Reiche der Zwecke wäre.”Grice is interested
in the conceptual connection of the categorical imperative with the
hypothetical or suppositional
imperative, in terms of the type of connection between the protasis and
the apodosis. Grice spends the full second Paul Carus lecture on the
conception of value on this. Grice is aware that the topic is central to
Oxonian philosophers such as Hare, a member of Austin’s Play Group, too, who
regard the universability of an imperative as a mark of its categoricity, and indeed,
moral status. Grice chose some of the Kantian terminology on purpose.Grice
would refer to this or that ‘conversational maxim.’A ‘conversational maxim’
contributes to what Grice jocularly refers to as the ‘conversational
immanuel.’But there is an admission test.The ‘conversational maxim’ has to be
shown that, qua items under an overarching principle of conversational
helpfulness, the maxim displays a quality associated with conceptual, formal,
and applicational generality. Grice never understood what Kant meant by the
categoric imperative. But for Grice, from the acceptability of the the immanuel
you can deduce the acceptability of this or that maxim, and from the
acceptability of the conversational immanuel (Be conversationally helpful) you
can deduce the acceptability of this or that convesational maxim. Grice hardly
considered Kants approach to the categoric imperative other than via the
universability of this or that maxim. This or that conversational maxim,
provided by Grice, may be said to be universalisable if and only if it displays
what Grice sees as these three types of generality: conceptual, formal, and
applicational. He does the same for general maxims of conduct. The results are
compiled in a manual of universalisable maxims, the conversational immanuel, an
appendix to the general immanuel. The other justification by Kant of the
categoric imperative involve an approach other than the genitorial
justification, and an invocation of autonomy and freedom. It is Patons use of
imperative as per categoric imperative that has Grice expanding on modes other
than the doxastic, to bring in the buletic, where the categoric imperative
resides. Note that in the end Kant DOES formulate the categoric imperative, as
Grice notes, as a real imperative, rather than a command, etc. Grice loved
Kant, but he loved Kantotle best. In the last Kant lecture, he proposes to
define the categorical imperative as a counsel of prudence, with a protasis Let
Grice be happy. The derivation involves eight stages! Grice found out that out
of his play-group activities with this or that linguistic nuance he had arrived
at the principle, or imperative of conversational helpfulness, indeed
formulated as an imperative: Make your contribution such as is required, at the
stage at which it occurs, by the accepted purpose of the conversation in which
you are engaged. He notes that the rationality behind the idea of conversation
as rational co-operation does not preclude seeing rationality in conversation
as other than cooperation. The fact that he chooses maxim, and explicitly
echoes Kant, indicates where Grice is leading!
BULETIC: What does Grice have to say about our conversational
practice? L and S have ‘πρᾶξις,’ εως, Ep. and Ion. πρῆξις , ιος, ἡ : (πράσσω),
which they render as ‘moral action,’ oποίησις, τέχνη, Arist. Eth. Nich. 1140a2,
1097a16; oποιότης, Id.Po.1450a18, cf. EN1178a35 (pl.); “ἤθη καὶ πάθη καὶ π.”
Id. Po.1447a28; oοἱ πολιτικοὶ λόγοι, D.61.44; “ἔργῳ καὶ πράξεσιν, οὐχὶ λόγοις”
Id.6.3; ἐν ταῖς πράξεσι ὄντα τε καὶ πραττόμενα exhibited in actual life, Pl.
Phdr. 271d; action in drama, oλόγος, Arist. Po.1454a18; μία π. ὅλη καὶ τελεία
ib. 1459a19, cf. 1451b33 (pl.).With practical Grice means buletic. Praxis
involves acting, and surely Grice presupposes acting. By uttering, i. e. by the
act of uttering, expression x, U m-intends that p. He occasionally refers to
action and behaviour as the thing which an ascription of a psychological state
explains. Grice prefers the idiom of soul. Theres the ratiocinative soul.
Within the ratiocinative, theres the executive soul and the merely
administrative soul. Cicero had to translate Aristotle into prudentia, every
time Aristotle talked of phronesis. Grice was aware that Kants terminology
can be confusing. Kant had used pure reason for reason in the doxastic
realm. Kants critique of practical reason is hardly symmetrical to his
critique of doxastic reason. Grice, with his æqui-vocality thesis of must
(must crosses the buletic-boulomaic/doxastic divide), Grice is being more of a
symmetricalist.
PROBABILITY: Grice loved to reminisce an anecdote concerning his
tutor Hardie at Corpus when Hardie invoked Mills principles to prove that
Hardie was not responsible for a traffic jam. In drafts on word
play, Grice would speak of not bringing more Grice to your Mill. Mills
System of Logic was part of the reading material for his degree in Lit.
Hum.at Oxford, so he was very familiar with it. Mill represents the best
of the English empiricist tradition. Grice kept an interest on inductive
methodology. In his Life and opinions he mentions some obscure essays by
Kneale and Keynes on the topic. Grice was interested in Kneales secondary
induction, since Grice saw this as an application of a
construction routine. He was also interested in Keyness notion of a
generator property, which he found metaphysically intriguing.
Induction. Induction ‒ Mills Induction, : induction, deduction, abduction,
Mill. More Grice to the Mill. Grice loved Hardies playing with Mills
Method of Difference with an Oxford copper. He also quotes Kneale and Keynes on
induction. Note that his seven-step derivation of akrasia relies on an
inductive step! Grice was fortunate to associate with Davidson, whose initial
work is on porbability. Grice borrows from Davidson the idea that inductive
probability, or probable, attaches to the doxastic, while prima facie attaches
to desirably, or desirability. Jeffreys notion of desirability is
partition-invariant in that if a proposition, A, can be expressed as the
disjoint disjunction of both {B1, B2, B3} and {C1, C2, C3}, ∑ Bi ∈ AProb (Bi ∣∣ A). Des (Bi) = ∑Ci ∈ A Prob (Ci ∣∣ A). Des (Ci). It follows that
applying the rule of desirability maximization will always lead to the same
recommendation, irrespective of how the decision problem is framed, while an
alternative theory may recommend different courses of action, depending on how
the decision problem is formulated. Here, then, is the analogue of
Jeffreys desirability axiom (D), applied to sentences rather than propositions:
(D) (prob(s and t) = 0 and prob(s or t) "# 0, ⊃ d ( ) prob(s)des(s)+ prob(t)des(t) es s or
t =-"---- prob( s) + prob(t ) (Grice writes prob(s) for the Subjectsive
probability of sand des(s) for the desirability or utility of s.) B. Jeffrey
admits that "desirability" (his terms for evidential value) does not
directly correspond to any single pre-theoretical notion of desire. Instead, it
provides the best systematic explication of the decision theoretic idea, which
is itself our best effort to make precise the intuitive idea of weighing
options. Jeffrey: "It is entirely possibly to desire someones love when
you already have it." Therefore, as Grice would follow, Jeffrey has the
desirability operator fall under the scope of the probability operator. The
agents desire that p provided he judges that p does not obtain.
Diagoge/epagoge, Grices audio-files, the audio-files, audio-files of various
lectures and conferences, some seminars with Warner and J. Baker, audio files
of various lectures and conferences. Subjects: epagoge, diagoge. A
previous f. in the collection contains the transcripts. These are the
audio-tapes themselves, obviously not in f. . The kind of metaphysical argument
which I have in mind might be said, perhaps, to exemplify a dia-gogic or
trans-ductive as opposed to epa-gogic or in-ductive approach to philosophical
argumentation. Hence Short and Lewis have trādūco, (TRANSDVCO, Inscr. Orell.
750; Cic. Sest. 42, 91; Sall. J. 11, 4; Liv. 10, 37, 1; and so always in Cæs.;
v. Neue, Formenl. 1, 734), xi, ctum, 3. Now, the more emphasis is placed
on justification by elimination of the rival, the greater is the impetus given
to refutation, whether of theses or of people. And perhaps a greater emphasis
on a dia-gogic procedure, if it could be shown to be justifiable, would have an
eirenic effect. Cf. Aristotle on diagoge, schole, otium. διαγωγή,
literally carrying across, “τριήρων” Polyaen.5.2.6. carrying through: hence
fig., ἡ διὰ πάντων αὐτῶν δ. taking a person through a Subjects by instruction,
Pl. Ep.343e; so, course of instruction, lectures, ἐν τῇ ἐνεστώσῃ δ. prob. in
Phld. Piet.25. Also passing of life, way or course of life, “δ. βίου” Pl.
R.344e: abs., Id. Tht.177a, etc., way of passing time, amusement, “δ. μετὰ
παιδιᾶς” Arist. EN1127b34, cf. 1177a27; “δ. ἐλευθέριος” Id. Pol.1339b5;
διαγωγαὶ τοῦ συζῆν public pastimes, ib.1280b37, cf. Plu.126b (pl.). also delay,
D.C. 57.3. management, τῶν πραγμάτων δ. dispatch of business, Id.48.5. IV.
station for ships, f. l. in Hdn.4.2.8. V. διαγωγάν: διαίρεσιν, διανομήν,
διέλευσιν, Hsch. Grice knew what he was talking about!
RATIONALITY: Oxonian philosophers will quote from the Locke
version! Obviously, while each of the four lectures credits their own entry
below, it may do to reflect on Grices overall aim. Grice structures the
lectures in the form of a philosophical dialogue with his audience. The
first lecture is intended to provide a bit of linguistic botanising for
reasonable, and rational. In later lectures, Grice tackles reason qua
noun. The remaining lectures are meant to explore what he calls the Aequi-vocality
thesis: must has only one Fregeian that crosses what he calls the
buletic-doxastic divide. He is especially concerned ‒ this being the
Kant lectures ‒ with Kants attempt to reduce the categorical
imperative to a counsel of prudence (Ratschlag der Klugheit), where Kants
prudence is Klugheit, versus skill, as in rule of skill, and even if Kant
defines Klugheit as a skill to attain what is good for oneself ‒
itself divided into privatKlugheit and Weltklugheit. Kant re-introduces the
Aristotelian idea of eudaimonia. While a further lecture on happiness as
the pursuit of a system of ends is NOT strictly part of the either the
Kant or the Locke lectures, it relates, since eudaimonia may be
regarded as the goal involved in the relevant imperative. Aspects
of reason, Clarendon, Stanford, The Kant Memorial Lectures, Aspects of reason,
Clarendon, Some aspects of reason, Stanford, : reason, reasoning,
reasons. The lectures were also delivered as the John Locke
lectures. Grice is concerned with the reduction of the categorical
imperative to the hypothetical or suppositional imperative. His main
thesis he calls the AEQUI-vocality thesis: must has only ONE sense, that
crossed the buletic-boulomaic/doxastic divide. Aspects of reason, Clarendon,
Grice, Aspects of reason, Clarendon, John Locke lecture notes, : reason.
On aspects of reason. Including extensive language botany on rational,
reasonable, and indeed reason (justificatory, explanatory, and mixed). At
this point, Grice notes that linguistic botany is INDISPENSABLE towards the
construction of a more systematic explanatory theory. It is an exploration
of a range of uses of reason that leads him to his Aequi-vocality thesis that
must has only one sense! 1977, Aspects of reason, Stanford, The Kant
Lectures, Stanford, 1977. Aspects of reason and reasoning, in
Grice, Aspects of Reason, Clarendon, The John Locke Lectures, Aspects of
Reason, Grice, Aspects of reason, The Kant Lectures, Stanford, Clarendon,
: reason, happiness. While Locke hardly mentions reason, his friend
Burthogge does, and profusely! It was slightly ironic that Grice had
delivered these lectures as the Rationalist Kant lectures at Stanford. He
was honoured to be invited to Oxford. Officially, to be a John Locke lecture
you have to be *visiting* Oxford. While Grice was a fellow of St. Johns,
he was still most welcome to give his set of lectures on reasoning at the
Sub-Faculty of Philosophy. He quotes very many authors, including Locke!
In his proemium, Grice notes that while he was rejected the Locke scholarship
back in the day, he was extremely happy to be under Lockes ægis now! When
preparing for his second lecture, he had occasion to revise some earlier drafts
dated 1966, 1966, reasons, Grice, Aspects of reason, Clarendon, Reasons, :
reason, reasons. Linguistic analysis on justificatory, explanatory and
mixed uses of reason. While Grice knows that the basic use of reason is
qua verb (reasoner reasons from premise P to conclusion C), he spends some time
in exploring reason as noun. Grice found it a bit of a roundabout way to
approach rationality. However, his distinction between justificatory and
explanatory reason is built upon his linguistic botany on the use of reason qua
noun. Explanatory reason seems more basic for Grice than justificatory
reason. Explanatory reason EXPLAINS the rational agents
behaviour. Grice is aware of Freud and his rationalizations. An agent
may invoke some reason for his acting which is not legitimate. An agent
may convince himself that he wants to move to Bournemouth because of the weather;
when in fact, his reason to move to Bournemouth is to be closer to Cowes and
join the yacht club there.
RATIONALITY: Grice loved an enthymeme. Grices enthymeme. Grice, the
implicit reasoner! As the title of the lecture implies, Grice takes the verb,
to reason, as conceptually prior. A reasoner reasons, briefly, from a premise
to a conclusion. There are types of reason: flat reason and gradual reason. He
famously reports Shropshire, another tutee with Hardie, and his proof on the
immortality of the human soul. Grice makes some remarks on akrasia as key, too.
The first lecture is then dedicated to an elucidation, and indeed attempt at a
conceptual analysis in terms of intentions and doxastic conditions reasoner R
intends that premise P yields conclusion C and believes his intention will
cause his entertaining of the conclusion from his entertaining the premise. One
example of particular interest for a study of the use of conversational reason
in Grice is that of the connection between implicatum and reasoning. Grice
entitles the sub-section of the lecture as Too good to be reasoning, which is
of course a joke. Cf. too much love will kill you, and Theres no such thing as
too much of a good thing (Shakespeare, As you like it). Grice notes: I have so
far been considering difficulties which may arise from the attempt to find, for
all cases of actual reasoning, reconstructions of sequences of utterances or
explicit thoughts which the reasoner might plausibly be supposed to think of as
conforming to some set of canonical patterns of inference. Grice then turns to
a different class of examples, with regard to which the problem is not that it
is difficult to know how to connect them with canonical patterns, but rather
that it is only too easy (or shall I say trivial) to make the connection. Like
some children (not many), some cases of reasoning are too well behaved for
their own good. Suppose someone says to Grice, and It is very interesting that
Grice gives conversational examples. Jack has arrived, Grice replies, I
conclude from that that Jack has arrived. Or he says Jack has arrived AND Jill
has *also* arrived, And Grice replies, I conclude that Jill has arrived.(via
Gentzens conjunction-elimination). Or he says, My wife is at home. And Grice
replies, I reason from that that someone (viz. your wife) is at home. Is there
not something very strange about the presence in my three replies of the verb
conclude (in example I and II) and the verb reason (in the third example)?
misleading, but doxastically fine, professor! It is true, of course, that if
instead of my first reply I had said (vii) vii. So Jack has arrived, has he?
the strangeness would have been removed. But here so serves not to indicate
that an inference is being made, but rather as part of a not that otiose way of
expressing surprise. One might just as well have said (viii). viii. Well, fancy
that! Now, having spent a sizeable part of his life exploiting it, Grice is not
unaware of the truly fine distinction between a statements being false (or
axiologically satisfactory), and its being true (or axiologically satisfactory)
but otherwise conversationally or pragmatically misleading or inappropriate or
pointless, and, on that account and by such a fine distinction, a statement, or
an utterance, or conversational move which it would be improper (in terms of
the reasonable/rational principle of conversational helfpulness) in one way or
another, to make. It is worth considering Grices reaction to his own
distinction. Entailment is in sight! But Grice does not find himself lured by
the idea of using that distinction here! Because Moores entailment, rather than
Grices implicatum is entailed. Or because explicatu, rather than implicatum is
involved. Suppose, again, that I were to break off the chapter at this point,
and switch suddenly to this argument. ix. I have two hands (here is one hand
and here is another). If had three more hands, I would have five. If I were to
have double that number I would have ten, and if four of them were removed six
would remain. So I would have four more hands than I have now. Is one happy to
describe this performance as reasoning? Depends whos one and whats happy!?
There is, however, little doubt that I have produced a canonically acceptable
chain of statements. So surely thats reasoning, if only conversationally
misleadingly called so! Or suppose that, instead of writing in my customary
free and easy style, I had framed my remarks (or at least the argumentative
portions of my remarks) as a verbal realization, so to speak, of sequences of
steps in strict conformity with the rules of a natural-deduction system of
first-order predicate logic. I give, that is to say, an updated analogue of a
medieval disputation. Implicature: Gentzen is Ockham! Would those brave souls
who continued to read be likely to think of my performance as the production of
reasoning, or would they rather think of it as a crazy formalisation of
reasoning conducted at some previous time? Depends on crazy or formalisation.
One is reminded of Grice telling Strawson, If you cannot formalise, dont say
it; Strawson: Oh, no! If I can formalise it, I shant say it! The points
suggested by this stream of rhetorical questions may be summarized as follows.
Whether the samples presented FAIL to achieve the title of reasoning, and thus
be deemed reasoning, or whether the samples achieve the title, as we may
figuratively put it, by the skin of their teeth, perhaps does not very greatly
matter. For whichever way it is, the samples seem to offend against something
(different things in different cases, Im sure) very central to our conception
of reasoning. So central that Moore would call it entailment! A mechanical
application of a ground rule of inference, or a concatenation thereof, is
reluctantly (if at all) called reasoning. Such a mechanical application may
perhaps legitimately enter into (i.e. form individual steps in) authentic
reasonings, but they are not themselves reasonings, nor is a string of them. There
is a demand that a reasoner should be, to a greater or lesser degree, the
author of his reasonings. Parroted sequences are not reasonings when parroted,
though the very same sequences might be reasoning if not parroted. Piroted
sequences are another matter. Some of the examples Grice gives are deficient
because they are aimless or pointless. Reasoning is characteristically
addressed to this or that problem: a small problem, a large problem, a problem
within a problem, a clear problem, a hazy problem, a practical problem, an
intellectual problem; but a problem! A mere flow of ideas minimally qualifies
(or can be deemed) as reasoning, even if it happens to be logically
respectable. But if it is directed, or even monitored (with intervention should
it go astray, not only into fallacy or mistake, but also into such things as
conversational irrelevance or otiosity!), that is another matter! Finicky
over-elaboration of intervening steps is frowned upon, and in extreme cases
runs the risk of forfeiting the title of reasoning. In conversation, such
over-elaboration will offend against this or that conversational maxim, against
(presumably) some suitably formulated maxim conjoining informativeness. As
Grice noted with regard to ix. That pillar box seems red to me. That would be
baffling if the addressee fails to detect the communication-point. An utterance
is supposed to inform, and what is the above meant to inform its addressee? In
thought, it will be branded as pedantry or neurotic caution! If a distinction
between brooding and conversing is to be made! At first sight, perhaps, one
would have been inclined to say that greater rather than lesser
explicitnessness is a merit. Not that inexplicitness, or implicatum-status, as
it were ‒ is bad, but that, other things being equal, the more explicitness the
better. But now it looks as if proper explicitness (or explicatum-status) is an
Aristotelian mean, or mesotes, and it would be good some time to enquire what
determines where that mean lies. The burden of the foregoing observations seems
to me to be that the provisional account of reasoning, which has been before
us, leaves out something which is crucially important. What it leaves out is
the conception of reasoning, as I like to see conversation, as a purposive
activity, as something with goals and purposes. The account or picture leaves
out, in short, the connection of reasoning with the will! Moreover, once we
avail ourselves of the great family of additional ideas which the importation
of this conception would give us, we shall be able to deal with the quandary
which I laid before you a few minutes ago. For we could say e.g. that R reasons
(informally) from p to c just in case R thinks that p and intends that, in
thinking c, he should be thinking something which would be the conclusion of a
formally valid argument the premisses of which are a supplementation of p. This
will differ from merely thinking that there exists some formally valid
supplementation of a transition from p to c, which I felt inclined NOT to count
as (or deem) reasoning. I have some hopes that this appeal to the purposiveness
or goal-oriented character of authentic reasoning or good reasoning might be
sufficient to dispose of the quandary on which I have directed it. But I am by
no means entirely confident that this is the case, and so I offer a second
possible method of handling the quandary, one to which I shall return later
when I shall attempt to place it in a larger context. We have available to us
(let us suppose) what I might call a hard way of making inferential moves. We
in fact employ this laborious, step-by-step procedure at least when we are in
difficulties, when the course is not clear, when we have an awkward (or
philosophical) audience, and so forth. An inferential judgement, however, is a
normally desirable undertaking for us only because of its actual or hoped for
destinations, and is therefore not desirable for its own sake (a respect in
which, possibly, it may differ from an inferential capacity). Following the
hard way consumes time and energy. These are in limited supply and it would,
therefore, be desirable if occasions for employing the hard way were minimized.
A substitute for the hard way, the quick way, which is made possible by
habituation and intention, is available to us, and the capacity for it (which
is sometimes called intelligence, and is known to be variable in degree) is a
desirable quality. The possibility of making a good inferential step (there
being one to be made), together with such items as a particular inferers reputation
for inferential ability, may determine whether on a particular occasion we
suppose a particular transition to be inferential (and so to be a case of
reasoning) or not. On this account, it is not essential that there should be a
single supplementation of an informal reasoning which is supposed to be what is
overtly in the inferers mind, though quite often there may be special reasons
for supposing this to be the case. So Botvinnik is properly credited with a
case of reasoning, while Shropshire is not.
RATIONALITY: Drawing from his recollections of an earlier
linguistic botany on reason. Grice distinguishes between justificatory reason
and explanatory reason. There is a special case of mixed reason,
explanatory-cum-justificatory. The lecture can be seen as the way an exercise
that Austin took as taxonomic can lead to explanatory adequacy, too!
The buletic-doxastic divide, the boulomaic-doxastic divide,
practical and alethic reasons, Aspects of reason, Clarendon, the third
Kant lecture, subjects: practical reason, alethic reason, protrepic,
exhibitive, Hare. The buletic, boulomaic, or volitive, is a part of the
soul; so is the doxatic (or judicative). Grice plays with co-relative
operators: desirability versus probability. Grice invokes the
exhibitive/protreptic distinction he had introduced in the fifth James lecture,
now applied to psychological attitudes themselves.
The buletic-doxastic divide, the boulomaic-doxastic divide,
further remarks on practical and alethic reasons, Aspects of reason,
Clarendon, the fourth Kant lecture, , . : practical reason, alethic reason,
counsel of prudence, categorical imperative, happiness, probability,
desirability, modality, eudaemonia, Hare. Grices attempt is to tackle the
Kantian problem in the Grundlegung: how to derive the categorical imperative
from a counsel of prudence. Under the assumption that the protasis is Let the
agent be happy, Grice does not find it obtuse at all to construct a
universalisable imperative out of a mere motive-based counsel of prudence.
Grice has an earlier paper on pleasure which relates. The derivation involves
seven steps. Grice proposes seven steps in the derivation. 1. It is a
fundamental law of psychology that, ceteris paribus, for any creature R, for
any P and Q, if R wills P Λ judges if P, P as a result of Q, R wills
Q. 2. Place this law within the scope of a "willing" operator: R
wills for any P Λ Q, if R wills P Λ judges that if P, P as a result of Q, R wills Q. 3. wills
turns to should. If rational, R will have to block unsatisfactory (literally)
attitudes. R should (qua rational) judge for any P Λ Q, if it is satisfactory to will that P Λ it is satisfactory to judge that if P, P as a result of Q,
it is sastisfactory to will that Q. 4. Marking the mode: R should (qua rational)
judge for any P Λ Q, if it is satisfactory that !P Λ that if it .P, .P only as a result of Q, it is satisfactory
that !Q. 5. via (p & q -> r) -> (p -> (q ->
r)): R should (qua rational) judge for any P Λ Q, if it is satisfactory that if .P, .P only because Q, i is
satisfactory that, if let it be that P, let it be that Q. 6. R should (qua
rational) judge for any P Λ Q, if P, P only because p yields if let it
be that P, let it be that Q. 7. For any P Λ Q if P, P only
because Q yields if let it be that P, let it be that Q.
UNIVERSALIUM: Code suggests that Grice held a set-theoretical
approach to the universalium for expository purposes.Grice is willing to
provide always set and non-set-theoretical variants (predicate or property). Grice
uses X (utterance-type) (WoW, p. 118). Grice gets engaged in a
metabolical debate concerning the reductive analysis of what an
utterance-type means in terms of a claim to the effect that, by uttering
x, an utterance-token of utterance-type X, the utterer means that p. The
implicature is x (utterance-token). Grice was not enamoured with the type/token
or token/type distinction. His thoughts on logical form were provocative:
If you cant put it in logical form, its not worth saying. Strawson
infamously reacted, but with a smile: Oh, no! If you CAN put it in logical
form, it is not worth saying. Grice refers to the type-token distinction when
he uses x for token and X for type. Since J. F. Bennett cared to call Grice a
meaning-nominalist we shouldnt CARE about Xs anyway! He expands on this in
Retrospective Epilogue. Grice should have payed more attention to the
distinction seeing that it was Ogdenian. A common mode of estimating the
amount of matter in a printed book is to count the number of words. There will
ordinarily be about twenty thes on a page, and, of course, they count as twenty
words. In another use of the word word, however, there is but one word the in
the English language; and it is impossible that this word should lie visibly on
a page, or be heard in any voice. Such a Form, Peirce, as cited by Ogden and
Richards, proposes to term a type. A single object such as this or that word on
a single line of a single page of a single copy of a book, Peirce ventures to
call a token. In order that a type may be used, it has to be embodied in a token
which shall be a sign of the type, and thereby of the object the type
signifies, and Grice followed suit.
KANTIANISM: Grice would give joint seminars on philosophy with
Baker. Baker majored in French and philosophy and did research at the Sorbonne.
Oddly, Grice gives a nice example of philosopher in 1967, Addicted to general
reflections about life. In the context where it occurs, Grices implicature is
Stevensonian. If Stevenson had said that an athlete is usually tall, a
philosopher WILL occasionally be inclined to reflect about life in general – a
birrelist -! His other definition: Engaged in philosophical studies seems
circular. At least the previous one defines philosophy by other than itself!
Cfr. Quixote to Sancho: You are quite a philosopher meaning stoic, actually!
Grices idea of philosophy was based on the the idea of philosophy that Lit.
Hum. instils. Its a unique experience! (unknown in the New World, our actually
outside Oxford, or post-Grice, where a classicist is not seen as a serious
philosopher! Becoming a tutorial fellow in philosophy and later university
lecturer in philosophy, stressed his attachment. He had to been by this or that
pupil as a philosopher simpliciter (as oppoosed to a prof: the Waynflete is
seen as a metaphysician, the White is seen as moralist, the Wykeham is seen as
a logician, and the Wilde is seen as a philosophical psychologist! For
Heidegger ("the greatest living philosopher," for Grice), the wisdom
of love, φιλοσοφία, love of knowledge, pursuit thereof,
speculation, Isoc.12. 209, Pl. Phd. 61a, Grg. 484c, al.; ἡ φ. κτῆσις ἐπιστήμης
Id. Euthd. 288d; defined as ἄσκησις ἐπιτηδείου τέχνης, Stoic. in Placit. 1
Prooem. 2. 2. systematic, methodical treatment of a Subjects, ἐμπειρίᾳ μέτιθι
καὶ φιλοσοφίᾳ Isoc. 2. 35; ἡ περὶ τὰς ἔριδας φ. scientific treatment of
argumentation, Id. 10. 6; ἡ περὶ τοὺς λόγους φ. the study of oratory, Id. 4.10:
pl., οἱ ἐν ταῖς φ. πολὺν χρόνον διατρίψαντες Pl. Tht. 172c; τέχναι καὶ φ. Isoc.
10.67. 3. philosophy, Id. 11.22, Pl. Def. 414b, etc.; ἱστορία φ. ἐστὶν ἐκ
παραδειγμάτων D.H.Rh.11.2: Isoc. usu. prefixes the Art., 2.51, 5.84, 7.45 but
cf. 2.35 supr.; sts. also in Pl. and Arist., as Pl. Grg. 482a, Arist. Metaph.
993b20, EN 1177a25, and so later, διὰ τῆς φ. καὶ κενῆς ἀπάτης Ep. Col. 2.8; but
more freq. without Art., τοῖς ἐν φιλοσοφίᾳ ζῶσιν Pl. Phd. 68c, al., cf. Arist.
Pol. 1341b28, al., cf. Πλάτων καὶ φ. Plu. 2.176d); exc. when an Adj. or some
qualifying word is added to ἡ θεία φ. Pl. Phdr. 239b; ἐκείνου τῇ φ. Id.
Ly.213d; ἡ περὶ τὰ ἀνθρώπεια φ. Arist. EN 1181b15; ἡ τῶν Ἰταλικῶν φ. Id.
Metaph. 987a31 (and pl., αἱ εἰρημέναι φ. ib. 29); so later ἡ Ἰωνικὴ φ. D. L.
1.122; ἡ δογματική, Ἀκαδημαϊκή, σκεπτικὴ φ. S. E. P.1.4, etc.; ὁ Ἐμπεδοκλῆς ἐν
ἀρχῇ τῆς φ. Plu. 2.607c, etc.; esp. ἡ πρώτη φ. metaphysic, Arist. Metaph.
1026a24, cf. 18. Just one sense, but various ambiguities remain in
philosopher, as per Grices example Grice is addicted to general speculations
about life, and Grice is a member of The Oxford Philosophical Society.
SOUL: In the New World, Grice had to engage in the great figures:
Kantotle. At Oxford, there was no such need, and he could play wtih
Duncan-Joness fugitive propositions. P(hilosophical) G(rounds of)
R(ationality:) I(ntentions,) C(ategories), E(nds) cites Kants ethics, and
it is under this that most of Grices material on Kant should be placed ‒ with a
caveat to the occasional reference to Kants epistemology, elsewhere. 1980.
Aristotles ethics, 1980, Aristotles Nicomachean Ethics and Aristotles
Ethics. From Hardie. Freedom in Kants Grundlegung, freedom and
morality in Kants Grundlegung, Freedom and Morality in Kants Foundations, Why
was Grice attracted to Kants theory? First, the logical analysis of the
imperatives. Second, as he explored the Grundlegung, the metaphysical
foundation of freedom, and finality. While teleology is usually NOT associated
with Kant, Grice did! Grice would refer to this, as Kantians do, as the
Grundlegung. Grice was never happy with eleutheria, qua Greek
philosophical notion. To literal to be true? By Foundations, Grice
obviously means Kants essay.Grice preferred to quote Kant in English. The
reason being that Grice was practising ordinary-language philosophy; and you
cannot expect much linguistic botany in a language other than your
own! Kant was not too ordinary in his use of German, either! The
English translations that Grice used captured, in a way, all that Grice thought
was worth capturing in Kants philosophy. Kant was not your standard
philosopher in the programme Grice was familiar with: Lit. Hum. Oxon. However,
Kant was popular in The New World, where Grice lectured profusely, Kants
ethics, Kants Ethical Theory. An exploration of the categorial imperative and
its reduction to the hypothetical or suppositional one. 1980. Kants
ethics, Philosophy, Kant, With Baker. Notably the
categorical imperative. Cf. Kants Ethics. The crucial belief about a
thing in itself that Kant thinks only practical reason can justify concerns
freedom. Freedom is crucial because, on Kants view, any moral appraisal presupposes
that a human is free in that he has the ability to do otherwise. To see
why, consider Kants example of a man who commits a theft. Kant holds that for
this mans action to be morally wrong and condemnable) it must have been within
his voluntary control (he is deemed responsible) in a way that it was within
his power at the time not to have committed the theft. If it is NOT
within his control at the time, while it may be useful to punish him in order
to shape his behaviour or to influence others, it nevertheless would be
incorrect to say that his action is morally wrong. Moral rightness and
wrongness apply only to a free agent who controls his action and has it in his
power, at the time of his action, either to act rightly or not. According
to Kant and Grice, this is just common sense. On these grounds, Kant rejects a
type of compatibilism, which he calls the comparative concept of freedom and
associates with Leibniz. Kant has a specific type of compatibilism in mind.
There may be types of compatibilism that do not fit Kants characterization of
that view. On the compatibilist view, as Kant understands it, an agent is free
whenever the cause of his action is within him. So an agent is not free only
when something external to him pushes or moves him, but he is free whenever the
proximate cause of his bodys movement is internal to him as an acting being. If
we distinguish between an involuntary convulsion and a voluntary bodily
movement, a free action is just a voluntary bodily movement. Kant and
Grice ridicule this view as a wretched subterfuge that tries to solve an
ancient philosophical problem with a little quibbling about words. This
view, Kant and Grice say, assimilates freedom to the freedom of a turnspit, or
a projectile in flight, or the motion of a clocks hands. Grices favourite
phrase was the otiose English free fall. And he knew all the Grecian he needed
to recognise the figurative concept of eleutheria as applied to ill as very
figurative, almost implicatural. The proximate cause of this movement is
internal to the turnspit, the projectile, and the clock at the time of the
movement. This cannot be sufficient for moral, rational responsibility.
Why not? The reason, Kant and Grice say, is ultimately that the cause of
this movement occurs in time. Return to the theft example. A compatibilist
would say that the thiefs action is free because its proximate cause is inside
him, and because the theft is not an involuntary convulsion but a voluntary
action. The thief decides to commit the theft, and his action flows from this
decision. According to Kant, however, if the thiefs decision is a natural,
and thus predictable, phenomenon that occurs in time, it must be the effect of
some cause that occurred in a previous time. This is an essential part of Kants
(if not Grices ‒ Grice quotes Eddington) Newtonian worldview and is grounded in
the a priori laws (specifically, the category of cause and effect) in
accordance with which our understanding constructs experience. Every event has
a cause that begins in an earlier time. If that cause too is an event
occurring in time, it must also have a cause beginning in a still earlier time,
etc. Every natural event occurs in time and is thoroughly determined by a
causal chain that stretches backwards into the distant past. So there is
no room for freedom in nature, which is deterministic in a strong way. The root
of the problem, for Kant, if not Grice, is time. For Grice its space and
time! Again, if the thiefs choice to commit the theft is a natural event in
time, it is the effect of a causal chain extending into the distant
past. But the past is out of his control now, in the present. Once
the past is past, he cannot change it. On Kants view, that is why his
action would not be in his control in the present if it is determined by events
in the past. Even if he could control those past events in the past, he
cannot control them now. But in fact past events were not in his control in the
past either if they too were determined by events in the more distant past,
because eventually the causal antecedents of his action stretch back before his
birth, and obviously events that occurred before his birth are not in his
control. So if the thiefs choice to commit the theft is a natural event
in time, it is not now and never was in his control, and he could not have done
otherwise than to commit the theft. In that case, it would be a mistake to hold
him morally responsible for it. Compatibilism, as Kant and Grice understand it,
therefore locates the issue in the wrong place. Even if the cause of the
action is internal to the agent, if it is in the past – e. g., if the action
today is determined by a decision the agent made yesterday, or from the
character I developed in childhood, it is not within the agents control now.
The real issue is not whether the cause of the action is internal or external
to the agent, but whether it is in the agents control now. For Kant, however,
the cause of action can be within the agents control now only if it is not in
time. This is why Kant and Grice think that transcendental idealism is
the only way to make sense of the kind of freedom that morality
requires. For transcendental idealism allows that the cause of an action
may be a thing in itself outside of time: Namesly, the agetns noumenal self,
which is free because it is not part of nature. No matter what kind of
character the agent have developed or what external influences act on him, on
Kants view every intentional, voluntary action is an immediate effect of the
agents noumenal self, which is causally undetermined. The agents noumenal self
is an uncaused cause outside of time, which therefore is not Subjects to the
deterministic laws of nature in accordance with which understanding and pure
reason constructs experience. Many puzzles arise on this picture that Kant does
not resolve, and Grice tries. E.g. if understanding constructs every
appearance in the experience of nature, not only an appearance of an action,
why is the agent responsible only for his action but not for everything that
happens in the natural world? Moreover, if I am not alone in the world
but there is another noumenal self acting freely and incorporating his free
action into the experience he constructs, how do two transcendentally free
agents interact? How do you integrate ones free action into the
experience that the others understanding constructs? In spite of these unsolved
puzzles, Kant holds that we can make sense of moral appraisal and
responsibility only by thinking about human freedom in this way, because it is
the only way to prevent natural necessity from undermining both. Since Kant
invokes transcendental idealism to make sense of freedom, interpreting his
thinking about freedom leads us back to disputes between the two-objects and
two-aspects interpretations of transcendental idealism. On the face of
it, the two-*objects* interpretation seems to make better sense of Kants view
of transcendental freedom than the two-aspects interpretation. If morality
requires that the agent be transcendentally free, it seems that his true self,
and not just an aspect of his self, must be outside of time, according to Kants
argument. But applying the two-*objects* interpretation to freedom raises
problems of its own, since it involves making a distinction between the
noumenal self and the phenomenal self that does not arise on the two-aspects
view. If only one noumenal self is free, and freedom is required for moral
responsibility, ones phenomenal self is not morally responsible. But how are
the noumenal self and the phenomenal self related, and why is punishment
inflicted on the phenomenal self? It is unclear whether and to what extent
appealing to Kants theory of freedom can help to settle disputes about the
proper interpretation of transcendental idealism, since there are serious
questions about the coherence of Kants theory on either interpretation! Which
is good, Grice would end his lecture with!
PRESCRIPTIVISM: Grice kept a copy of Foots on morality as a system
of hypothetical imperatives. “So Somervillian Oxonian it hurts!”. Grice took
virtue ethics more seriously than the early Hare. Hare will end up a virtue
ethicist, since he changed from a meta-ethicist to a moralist embracing a
hedonistic version of eudaemonist utilitarianism. Grice was more Aristotelianly
conservative! Unlike Hares and Grices meta-ethical sensitivities (as members of
the Oxonian school of ordinary-language philosophy), Foot suggests a different
approach to ethics. Grice admired Foots ability to make the right conceptual
distinction. Foot is following a very Oxonian tradition best represented
by the work of Warnock. Of course, Grice was over-familiar with the virtue
vs. vice distinction, since Hardie had instilled it on him at Corpus! For
Grice, virtue and vice (and the mesotes), display an interesting logical grammar,
though. Grice would say that rationality is a virtue; fallacious reasoning is a
vice. Some things Grice takes more of a moral standpoint about. To cheat
is neither irrational nor unreasonble: just plain repulsive. As
such, it would be a vice ‒ mind not getting caught in its grip! Grice is
concerned with vice in his account of akrasia or incontinentia. If agent A
KNOWS that doing x is virtuous, yet decides to do ~x, which is vicious, A is
being akratic. For Grice, akratic behaviour applies both in the buletic or
boulomaic realm and in the doxastic realm. And it is part of the
philosopher’s job to elucidate the conceptual intricacies attached to
it. 1. prima-facie (p⊃!q) V probably (p⊃q). 2. prima-facie ((A and B) ⊃!p) V probably ( (A and B) ⊃p). 3. prima-facie ((A and B and C) ⊃!p) V probably ( (A and B and C,) ⊃p). 4. prima-facie ((all things before
pirot V!p) V probably ((all things before pirot) ⊃ p). 5. prima-facie ((all things are
considered ⊃ !p) V probably
(all things are considered, ⊃ p). 6. !q V .q 7. Acc. Reasoning
pirot wills that !q V Acc. Reasoning pirot that judges q.
Onto-genesis, s. V, c. 9-f. 10, semantics of childrens language.
Subjects: semantics, childrens language, ontogenesis, ontology, phylogeny,
developmental pragmatics, learning, acquisition. Interesting in that
he was always enquiring his childrens playmates: Can a sweater be red and green
all over? No stripes allowed! One found a developmental account of the princile
of conversational helpfulness boring, or as he said, "dull."
Proem to the John Locke Lectures, aspects of reason, Clarendon, s.
II; subjects: Locke scholarship, Locke lecture, Oxford, town and gown; names: Baker,
John Locke. Grices Town and Gown.
This is a special note, or rather, a very moving proem, on Grices
occasion of delivering his lectures on Aspects of reason and reasoning at
Oxford as the John Locke Memorial Lectures at Merton. Particularly apt in
mentioning, with humility, his having failed, *thrice* [sic] to obtain the John
Locke lectureship (Strawson did, at once!), but feeling safe under the ægis of
that great English philosopher (viz. Locke! always implicated, never
explicited) now. Grice starts the proem in a very moving, shall we say,
emotional, way: I find it difficult to convey to you just how happy I am, and
how honoured I feel, in being invited to give these lectures. Difficult, but
not impossible. I think of this university and this city [it has a cathedral],
which were my home for thirty-six years, as my spiritual and intellectual
parents. The almost majestic plural is Grices implicature to the town and gown!
[W]hatever I am was originally fashioned here; I never left Oxford, Oxford made
me, and I find it a moving experience to be, within these splendid and none too
ancient walls, once more engaged in my old occupation of rendering what is
clear obscure, by flouting the desideratum of conversational clarity and the
conversational maxim, avoid obscurity of expression, under be perspicuous
[sic]!. Grices implicature on none too ancient seems to be addressed to the
TRULY ancient walls that saw Athenian dialectic! On the other hand, Grices
funny variant on the obscurum per obscurius ‒ what Baker found as Grices skill
in rendering an orthodoxy into a heterodoxy! Almost! By clear Grice implicates Lewis
and his clarity is not enough! I am, at the same time, proud of my mid-Atlantic
[two-world] status, and am, therefore, delighted that the Old World should have
called me in, or rather recalled me, to redress, for once, the balance of my
having left her for the New. His implicature seems to be: Strictly, I never
left? Grice concludes his proem: I am, finally, greatly heartened by my
consciousness of the fact that that great English philosopher, under whose ægis
I am now speaking, has in the late afternoon of my days extended to me his
Lectureship as a gracious consolation for a record threefold denied to me, in
my early morning, of his Prize. I pray that my present offerings may find
greater favour in his sight than did those of long ago. They did! Even if Locke
surely might have found favour to Grices former offerings, too, Im sure!
Wyatt, s. I (A), c. 1-f. 10-12, names: Grice, R. Wyatt.
IDEATIONALISM: Short and Lewis have "mens" ( I. nom.
sing. mentis: terra corpus est, at mentis ignis est, Enn. ap. Prisc. p. 764 P.;
so too, istic est de sole sumptus; isque totus mentis est, Enn. ap. Varr. L. L.
5, § 59 Müll.; cf. Enn. p. 168, v. 6 and 7 Vahl.), f. from the root men, whence
memini, q. v., and comminiscor, the mind, disposition; the heart, soul
(class.). commĭniscor (originally conm- ), mentus, 3,I.v. a. dep.
[miniscor, whence also reminiscor, stem men, whence mens, memini; cf. Varr. L.
L. 6, § 44] (lit. to ponder carefully, to reflect upon; hence, as a result of
reflection; cf. 1. commentor, II.), to devise something by careful thought, to
contrive, invent, feign. Myro was perhaps unaware of the implicatures of mental
when he qualified his -ism with modest. Grice would seldom use mind
(Grecian nous) or mental (Grecian noetikos vs. æsthetikos). His sympathies go
for more over-arching Grecian terms like the very Aristotelian soul, (anima),
i. e. the psyche and the psychological. A discussion by Grice of G. Myros
essay, In defence of a modal mentalism, with attending commentary by R.
Albritton and S. Cavell. Grice himself would hardly use mental, mentalist, or
mentalism himself, but perhaps psychologism. Grice would use mental, on
occasion, but his Grecianism was deeply rooted, unlike Myros. At Clifton and
under Hardie (lets recall he came up to Oxford under a classics scholarship to
enrol in the Lit. Hum.) he knew that mental translates mentalis translates
nous, only ONE part of the soul.
GRECIAN: Why was Grice obsessed with Socrates’s convesations? He
doesnt say. But he implicates it. For the Athenian dialecticians, it is all a
matter of ta legomena. Ditto for the Oxonian dialecticians. Ta legomena becomes
ordinary language. And the task of the philosopher is to provide reductive
analysis of this or that concept in terms of necessary and sufficient
conditions. Cf. Hospers. Grices review of the history of philosophy (Philosophy
is but footnotes to Zeno.). Grice enjoyed Zenos answer, What is a friend? Alter
ego, Allego. ("Only it was the other Zeno." Grice tried to apply the
Socratic method during his tutorials. "Nothing like a heartfelt dedication
to the Socratic art of mid-wifery, seeking to bring forth error and to strangle
it at birth.” μαιεύομαι ( A.“μαῖα” 1.3) serve as a midwife, act as one, D.
S. 19.34; “ἡ Ἄρτεμις μ.” Luc. D Deor.26.2. 2. cause delivery to take place,
“ἱκανὴ ἔκπληξις μαιεύσασθαι πρὸ τῆς ὥρας” Philostr. VA1.5. 3. c. acc., bring to
the birth, Marin.Procl.6; ὄρνιθας μ. hatch chickens, Anon. ap. Suid.; αἰετὸν
κάνθαρος μαιεύσομαι, prov. of taking vengeance on a powerful enemy, Ar. Lys.695
(cf. Sch.). 4. deliver a woman, esp. metaph. in Pl. of the Socratic method,
Tht. 149b. II. Act., Poll. 4.208, Sch. OH.4.506. Pass., τὰ ὑπ᾽ ἐμοῦ μαιευθέντα
brought into the world by me, Pl. Tht. 150e, cf. Philostr.VA5.13.
DEUTERO-ESPERANTO: Grice genially opposed to the idea of a
convention. He HATED conventions. Language is not conventional. Meaning is not
conventional. He was even unhappy with D. K. Lewiss account of convention in
terms of an arbitrary co-ordination. While the co-ordination bit passes
rational muster, the arbitrary element is deemed a necessary condition, and
Grice hated that. For Grice there is natural, and iconic. When a representation
ceases to be iconic and becomes, for lack of a better expression, non-iconic,
things get, we may assume conventional. One form of correlation in his last
definition of meaing allows for a conventional correlation. “Pain!,” the pirot
cries. There is nothing in /pein/ that minimally resembles the pain the pirot
is suffering. So from his involuntary “Ouch” to his simulated “Ouch,” he thinks
he can say “Pain.” Bennett explored the stages after that. The dog is shaggy is
Grices example. All sorts of resultant procedures are needed for REFERENCE and
PREDICATION, which may be deemed conventional. One may refer nonconventionally,
by ostension. It seems more difficult to PREDICATE non-conventionally. But
there may be iconic predication. Urquhart promises twelve parts of speech: each
declinable in eleven cases, four numbers, eleven genders (including god,
goddess, man, woman, animal, etc.); and conjugable in eleven tenses, seven
moods, and four voices. The language will translate any idiom in any other
language, without any alteration of the literal sense, but fully representing
the intention. Later, one day, while lying in his bath, Grice designed
Deutero-Esperanto. The obble is fang may be current only for Griceian
members of the class of utterers. It is only this or that philosophers practice
to utter The obble is fang in such-and-such circumstances. In this case,
the utterer U does have a readiness to utter The obble is feng in such-and-such
circumstances. There is also the scenario in which The obble is fang is may be
conceived by the philosopher not to be deemed current at all, but the utterance
of The obble is feng in such-and-such circumstances is part of some system of
communication which the utterer U (Lockwith,, Urquart, Wilkins, Edmonds,
Grice) has devised but which has never been put into operation, like the
highway code which Grice invent another day again while lying in his bath. In
that case, U does this or that basic or resultant procedure for the obble
is feng in an attenuated but philosophically legitimate fashion. U has
envisaged a possible system of practices which involve a readiness to
utter Example by Grice that does NOT involve a convention in this usage. Surely
Grice can as he indeed did, INVENT a language, call it Deutero-Esperanto,
Griceish, or Pirotese, which nobody at Oxford ever uses to communicat. That
makes Grice the authority - cf. arkhe, authority, government (in plural),
"authorities" - and Grice can lay down, while lying in the tub, no
doubt - what is proper. A pirot can be said to potch of some obble o as
fang or as feng. Also to cotch of some obble o, as fang or feng; or to cotch of
one obble o and another obble o as being fid to one another.” In symbols:
(Ex)(Ey).Px ^ Oy ^ POTCH(x, y, fang) (Ex)(Ey).Px ^ Oy ^ POTCH(x, y, feng)
(Ex)(Ey).Px ^ Oy ^ COTCH(x, y, fang) (Ex)(Ey).Px ^ Ox ^ COTCH(x, y, feng)
(Ex)(Ey).Px ^ Oz ^ Oy ^ COTCH(x, FID(y,z)). Let’s say that pirots (as Russell
and Carnap conceived them) inhabit a world of obbles, material objects, or
things. To potch is something like to perceive; to cotch something like to
think. Feng and fang are possible descriptions, much like our adjectives. Fid
is a possible relation between obbles." Grice provides a
symbolisation for content internalisation. The perceiver or cognitive Subjects
perceives or cognises two objects, x, y, as holding a relation of some
type. There is a higher level that pirots can reach when the object of
their potchings and cotchings is not so much objects but states of
affairs. Its then that the truth-functional operators will be brought to
existence “^”: cotching (p ^ q) “V”: cotching (p v q) “)”: )-cotching (p
) q) A pirot will be able to reject a content, refuse-thinking: ~.
Cotching (~p) When Pirot1 perceives Pirot2, the reciprocals get more
complicated. Pirot2 cotches that Pirot1!-judges that p. Grice
uses ψ1 for potching and ψ2 for cotching. If Pirot2 is co-operative, and
abides by "The Pirots Immanuel," Pirot2 will honour, in a Kantian
benevolent way, his partners goal by adopting temporarily his partners
goal potch(x (portch(y, !p)) ⊃ potch(x, !p). But by then, its
hardly simpler ways. Especially when the pirots outdo their progenitor Carnap
as metaphysicians. 1. ⊢ (α
izzes α). This would be the principle of non-contradiction or identity. Pirot1
applies it war, and utters War is war which yields a most peculiar
implicature. 2. ⊢ (α izzes β ∧ β izzes γ) ⊃ α izz γ. This is transitivity, which is
crucial for pirots to overcome Berkeley’s counterexample to Locke, and define
their identity over time. 3. ⊢ α hazzes β ⊃ ~ (α izzes β). Or, what is accidental is not
essential. A pirot may allow that what is essential is accidental while
misleading, is boringly true. 4. ⊢ α hazzes β ⊃⊂ (∃x)(α hazzes x ∧ x izzes β) 5. ⊢ (∀β)(β is a katholou or universalium ⊃ β is an eidos or forma). For surely pirots
need not be stupid to fail to see squarrelhood. 6. ⊢ (α hazzes β ∧ α izzes a particular) ⊃ (∃γ).(γ≠α ∧ α izz β) 7. ⊢ α izzes predicable of β ⊃⊂ ((β izzes α) ∨ (∃x)(β hazzes x ∧ x izzes α) 8. ⊢ α izzes essentially predicable of β ⊃⊂ β izzes α 9. ⊢ α izzes non-essentially/accidentally
predicable of β ⊃⊂ (∃x)(β hazzes x ∧ x izzes α) 10. ⊢ α = β ⊃⊂ α izzes β ∧ β izzes α 11. ⊢ α izzes an atomon, or individuum ⊃⊂ □(∀β)(β izzes α ⊃ α izzes β) 12. ⊢ α izzes a particular ⊃⊂ □(∀β)(α izzes predicable of β ⊃ (α izzes β ∧ β izzes α)) 13. ⊢ α izzes a universalium ⊃⊂ ◊(∃β)(α izzes predicable of α ∧ ~(α izzes β ∧ β izzes α) 14. ⊢ α izzes some-thing ⊃ α izzes an individuum. 15. ⊢ α izzes an eidos or forma ⊃ (α izzes some-thing ∧ α izzes a universalium) 16. ⊢ α izzes predicable of β ⊃⊂ (β izzes α) ∨ (∃x)(β hazzes x ∧ x izzes α) 17. ⊢ α izzes essentially predicable of α
18. ⊢ α izzes
accidentally predicable of β ⊃ α ≠ β 19. ⊢ ~(α izzes accidentally predicable of
β) ⊃ α ≠ β 20. ⊢ α izzes an kathekaston or particular ⊃ α izzes an individuum 21. ⊢ α izz a particular ⊃ ~(∃x)(x ≠ α ∧ x izz α) 22. ⊢~(∃x).(x izzes a particular ∧ x izzes a forma) 23. ⊢ α izzes a forma ⊃ ~(∃x)(x ≠ α ∧ x izzes α) 24. ⊢ x izzes a particular ⊃ ~(∃β)(α izzes β) 25. ⊢ α izzes a forma ⊃ ((α izzes predicable of β ∧ α ≠ β) ⊃ β hazzes α) 26. ⊢ α izzes a forma ∧ β izzes a particular ⊃ (α izzes predicable of β ⊃⊂ β hazzes A) 27. ⊢ (α izzes a particular ∧ β izzes a universalium ∧ β izzes predicable of α) ⊃ (∃γ)(α ≠ γ ∧ γ izzes essentially predicable of α)
28. ⊢ (∃x) (∃y)(x izzes a particular ∧ y izzes a universalium ∧ y izzes predicable of x ⊃ ~(∀x)(x izzes a universalium ∧ x izzes some-thing) 29. ⊢ (∀β)(β izzes a universalium ⊃ β izzes some-thing) 30. ⊢ α izzes a particular) ⊃ ~∃β.(α ≠ β ∧ β izzes essentially predicable of α)
31. ⊢ (α is predicable
of β ∧ α ≠ β) ⊃ α izzes non-essentially or accidentally
predicable of β. Grice is following a Leibnizian tradition. A
philosophical language is any constructed language that is constructed from
first principles or certain ideologies. It is considered a type of
engineered language. Philosophical languages were popular in Early Modern
times, partly motivated by the goal of recovering the lost Adamic or Divine
language. The term “ideal language” is sometimes used near-synonymously,
though more modern philosophical languages such as “Toki Pona” are less likely
to involve such an exalted claim of perfection. It may be known as a
language of pure ideology. The axioms and grammars of the languages
together differ from commonly spoken languages today. In most older
philosophical languages, and some newer ones, words are constructed from a
limited set of morphemes that are treated as "elemental" or
fundamental. "Philosophical language" is sometimes used synonymously with
"taxonomic language", though more recently there have been several
conlangs constructed on philosophical principles which are not taxonomic.
Vocabularies of oligo-synthetic languages are made of compound words, which are
coined from a small (theoretically minimal) set of morphemes; oligo-isolating
languages, such as Toki Pona, similarly use a limited set of root words but
produce phrases which remain s. of distinct words. Toki Pona is based on
minimalistic simplicity, incorporating elements of Taoism. Láadan is designed
to lexicalize and grammaticalise the concepts and distinctions important to
women, based on muted group theory. A priori languages are constructed
languages where the vocabulary is invented directly, rather than being derived
from other existing languages (as with Esperanto, or Grices Deutero-Esperanto,
or Pirotese or Ido). Philosophical languages are almost all a priori languages,
but most a priori languages are not philosophical languages. For example,
Quenya, Sindarin, and Klingon are all a priori but not philosophical languages:
they are meant to seem like natural languages, even though they have no genetic
relation to any natural languages. Work on a philosophical language was
pioneered by Francis Lodwick (A Common Writing, The Groundwork or Foundation
laid (or So Intended) for the Framing of a New Perfect Language and a Universal
Common Writing), Sir Thomas Urquhart (Logopandecteision, in six parts:
Neaudethaumata, Chrestasebeia, Cleronomaporia, Chryseomysters, Neleodicastes,
and Philoponauxesis), George Dalgarno (Ars signorum), and John Wilkins (An
Essay towards a Real Character, and a Philosophical Language). Those were
systems of hierarchical classification that were intended to result in both
spoken and written expression. George Edmonds modified Wilkins system, leaving
its taxonomy intact, but changing the grammar of the language in an effort to
make it easier. Gottfried Leibniz created lingua generalis (or lingua
universalis), aiming to create a lexicon of characters upon which the user
might perform calculations that would yield true propositions automatically; as
a side effect he developed binary calculus. These projects aimed not only to
reduce or model grammar, but also to arrange all human knowledge into
"characters" or hierarchies. This idea ultimately led to the
Encyclopédie, in the Age of Enlightenment. Under the entry Charactère,
DAlembert critically reviewed the projects of philosophical languages of the
preceding century. After the Encyclopédie, projects for a priori
languages moved more and more to the fringe. Individual authors, typically
unaware of the history of the idea, continued to propose taxonomic
philosophical languages until the early 20th century (for example, Ro). More
recent philosophical languages have usually moved away from taxonomic schemata,
such as Ithkuil. V. engineered language Linguistic philosophy Natural
semantic metalanguage. References: G. Edmonds, A Universal Alphabet, Grammar,
and Language. Richard Griffin and Company, London and Glasgow, 1855.
history-computer.com Bibliography Edit Umberto Eco, The Search for the
Perfect Language, 1993. Alan Libert, A Priori Artificial Languages. Munich,
Lincom Europa, 2000. ISBN 3-89586-667-9 Last edited 5 days ago by LesVisages,
cf. International auxiliary language Language meant for communication between
people from different nations who do not share a common first language
Engineered language constructed languages devised to test or prove how
languages work. Cf. Grices Deutero-Esperanto. It all started when Carnap
claimed to know that pirots karulise elatically. Grice as engineer.
Pirotese is the philosophers engaging in pirotology. Actually, pirotese is the
lingo the pirots parrot. Pirots karulise elatically. But not all of
them. Grice finds that the pirotological talk allows to start from
zero. He is constructing a language, (basic) Pirotese, and the
philosophical psychology and world that that language is supposed to represent
or denote. An obble is a pirots object. Grice introduces potching
and cotching. To potch, in Pirotese, is what a pirot does with an obble: he
perceives it. To cotch is Pirotese for what a pirot can further do with an
obble: know or cognise it. Cotching, unlike potching, is factive.
Pirotese would not be the first language invented by a philosopher.
A philosophers prospectus, a philosophy seminar with Grice,
seminar, a philosophical talk, philosophy, with J. Baker, s. II, c. 4-f. 14, s. IV, c. 5-f. 3-4, s. IV, cc. 5-f. 2 and 8. Subject: prospectus.
EMOTION: Diog. Laert. of Zeno of Citium. πρὸς τὸν εἰπόντα,
"πολλοί σου καταγελῶσιν," "ἀλλ ἐγώ," ἔφη, "οὐ κατα-
γελῶμαι." "To the question "Who is a friend?" his
answer was, "A second self (alter ego)."" One direct way to
approach friend is via emotion, as Aristotle did, and found it aporetic as did
Grice. Aristotle discusses philia in Eth. Nich. but it is in Rhet. where he
allows for phulia to be an emotion. Grice was very fortunate to have Hardie as
his tutor. He overused Hardies lectures on Aristotle, too, and instilled them on
his own tutees! Grice is concerned with Aristotles rather cryptic view of
the friend (philos, amicus) as the alter ego. In Grices cooperative,
concerted, view of things, a friend in need is a friend indeed! Grice is
interested in Aristotle finding himself in an aporia. In Nicomachean Ethics
IX.ix, Aristotle poses the question whether the happy man will need friends or
not. Kosman correctly identifies this question as asking not whether friends
are necessary in order to achieve eudæmonia, but why we require friends even
when we are happy. The question is not why we need friends to become happy, but
why we need friends when we are happy, since the eudæmon must be
self-sufficient. Philia is required for the flourishing of the life of
practical virtue. Aristotles solution to the aporia here, however, points to
the requirement of friendships even for the philosopher, in his life of
theoretical virtue. Aristotles solution to the aporia in Nicomachean
Ethics IX.ix is opaque, and the corresponding passage in Eudeiman Ethics
VII.xii is scarcely better. Aristotle thinks he has found the solution to this
aporia. We must take two things into consideration, that life is desirable and
also that the good is, and thence that it is desirable that such a nature
should belong to oneself as it belongs to them. If then, of such a pair of
corresponding s. there is always one s. of the desirable, and the known and the
perceived are in general constituted by their participation in the nature of
the determined, so that to wish to perceive ones self is to wish oneself to be
of a certain definite character,—since, then we are not in ourselves possessed
of each such characters, but only in participation in these qualities in
perceiving and knowing—for the perceiver becomes perceived in that way in
respect in which he first perceives, and according to the way in which and the
object which he perceives; and the knower becomes known in the same way—
therefore it is for this reason that one always desires to live, because one
always desires to know; and this is because he himself wishes to be the object
known.
BULETIC: Grice was well aware that a philosopher, at Oxford, needs to be a philosophical psychologist. So, wanting and needing have to be related to willing. A plant needs water. A floor needs sweeping. So need is too broad. So is want, a non-Anglo-Saxon root for God knows what. With willing things get closer to the rational soul. There is willing in the animal soul. But when it comes to rational willing, there must be, to echo Pritchard, a conjecture, some doxastic element. You cannot will to fly, or will that the distant chair slides over the floor toward you. So not all wants and needs are rational willings, but then nobody said they would! Grice was interested in emotion in his power structure of the soul. A need and a want may count as an emotion. Grice was never too interested in needing and wanting because they do not take a that-clause. He congratulated Urmson for having introduced him to Prichards brilliant willing that Why is it, Grice wonders, that many ascriptions of buletic states take to-clause, rather than a that-clause? Even mean! In this he was quite different from Austin, who avoided the that-clause. My explanation is very obscure, like those of all grammar books onthat clauses we see that the that of oratio obliqua is not in all ways similar to the that* in our explicit performative formulas : here I am not reporting my own speech in the first person singular present indicative active. Incidentally, of course, it is not in the least necessary that an explicit performative verb should be followed by that: in important classes of cases it is followed by to . . . or nothing, for example, I apologize (for . . .), I salute you. Now many of these verbs appear to be quite satisfactory pure performatives. (Irritating though it is to have them as such, linked with clauses that look like statements, true or false, we have mentioned this before and will return to it again.) For example, when I say I prophesy that , . ., I concede that . . ., I postulate that . . the clause following will normally look just like a statement, but the verbs themselves seem to be pure performatives. we could distinguish the performative opening part (I state that) which makes clear how the utterance is to be taken, that it is a statement (as distinct from a prediction, &c.), from the bit in the that-clause which is required to be true or false. However, there are many cases which, as language stands at present, we are not able to split into two parts in this way, even though the utterance seems to have a sort of explicit performative in it: thus I liken x to y\ I analyse x as y\ Here we both do the likening and assert that there is a likeness by means of one compendious phrase of at least a quasi-performative character. Just to spur us on our way: we may also mention I know that, I believe that, etc. How complicated are these examples? We cannot assume that they are purely descriptive.Want etymologically means absence; need should be preferred. The squarrel (squirrel) Toby needs intake of nuts, and youll soon see gobbling them! There is not much philosophical bibliography on these two psychological states Grice is analysing. Their logic is interesting. Smith wants to play cricket. Smith needs to play cricket. Grice is concerned with the propositional content attached to the want and need predicate. Wants that sounds harsh; so does need that. Still, there are propositional attached to the pair above. Smith plays cricket. Grice took a very cavalier attitude to what linguists spend their lives analysing. He thought it was surely not the job of the philosopher, especially from a prestigious university such as Oxford, to deal with the arbitrariness of grammatical knots attached to this or that English verb. He rarely used English, but stuck with ordinary language. Surely, he saw himself in the tradition of Kantotle, and so, aiming at grand philosophical truths: not conventions of usage, even his own! 1. Squarrel Toby has a nut, N, in front of him. 2. Toby is short on squarrel food (observed or assumed), so, 3. Toby wills squarrel food (by postulate of Folk Pyschological Theory θ connecting willing with intake of N). 4. Toby prehends a nut as in front (from (1) by Postulate of Folk Psychological Theory θ, if it is assumed that nut and in front are familiar to Toby). 5. Toby joins squarrel food with gobbling, nut, and in front (i.e. Toby judges gobbling, on nut in front, for squarrel food (by Postulate of Folk Psychological Theory θ with the aid of prior observation. So, from 3, 4 and 5, 6. Tobby gobbles; and since a nut *is* in front of him, gobbles the nut in front of him.
SEMANTICS: While Grice is NOT concerned about the semantics of
utterers meaning (how could he, when he analyses means
in terms of intends , he is about
the semantics of sentence-meaning. Grices second stage (expression meaing)
of his programme about meaning begins with specifications of means as applied
to x, a token of X. He is having Tarskis and Davidsons elaborations of schemata
like p means that p. Snow is white means that snow is white, and
stuff! Grice was especially concerned with combinatories, for both unary and
dyadic operators, and with multiple quantifications within a first-order predicate
calculus with identity.
ABSTRACTA: “Dont expect me to use propositional content, as Hare
does so freely!” Grices propositional complexum. Grice was keen on the concept
of a propositional complexum which allowed him not to commit to the abstract entity
of a proposition, if the latter is regarded as an extensional family of
propositional complexa (Paul saw Peter; Peter was seen by Paul). The topic
of a propositional complex was one that Grice regarded as Oxonian in nature.
Peacocke had struggled with the same type of problems, in his various essays on
the theory of content. Only a perception-based account of content in terms
of qualia gets the philosopher out of the vicious circle of introducing
linguistic entities to clarify psychological entities and vice versa. One
way to discharge the obligation to give an account of a proposition is would
involve, as its central idea, focusing on a primitive range of simple
statements, the formulation of which would involve no connective or quantifier,
and treating each of these as expressing a propositional complexum which
in such cases would consist of a sequence two simplicia, simplex-1 and
simplex- whose elements would be, first, for the first simplex, a general item
(a set or an attribute, according to preference) and, the second simplex, an
ordered sequence of this or that simplissimum, object, or individuum which
might, or might not, instantiate or belong to the first item.
The propositional complexum associated with Grice is wise may be
thought of consisting of a complex sequence whose first general member would be
the set of wise persons, or alternatively the attribute or property of wisdom,
and whose second (instantial or particular) member or individuum would be Grice
or the singleton of Grice. Strawson loves Grice, may be represented as
expressing a propositional complexum which is a complex sequence whose
first element is love (considered either extensionally as a set or
non-extensionally as an attribute or property, denoted by a two-place predicate)
and whose second element is a sequence or ordered pair composed of the simplex
individuum Strawson and the simplex individuum Grice, in that order. We can
define a property of doxastic satisfactoriness which will be closely allied to
the notion of truth. A simple, or primary propositional complexum is factive or
alethically satisfactory just in case its two elements (the general element and
the instantial element) are related by the appropriate predication relation,
just in case e.g. the second element is a member of the set (or possesses the
attribute) in which the first element consists. A proposition (propositio)
simpliciter may now, alla Chomsky, be represented as each consisting of
a family of propositional complexa. The conditions for family unity
may be thought of either as fixed or as variable in accordance with the
context. Grices ontological views are-at
least-liberal. As Grice says when commenting on the mind-body problem in Method
in philosophical psychology, I am not greatly enamoured of some of the
motivations which prompt the advocacy of psychophysical identifications; I have
in mind a concern to exclude such queer or mysterious entities as souls, purely
mental events, purely mental properties and so forth. My taste is for keeping
open house for all sorts of conditions of entities, just so long as when they
come in they help with the housework. Provided that I can see them work, and
provided that they are not detected in illicit logical behaviour (within which
I do not include a certain degree of indeterminacy, not even of numerical
indeterminacy), I do not find them queer or mysterious at all. To fangle a new
ontological Marxism, they work therefore they exist, even though only some,
perhaps those who come on the recommendation of some form of transcendental
argument, may qualify for the specially favoured status of entia realissima. To
exclude honest working entities seems to me like metaphysical snobbery, a
reluctance to be seen in the company of any but the best objects. One way
entities can work is by playing a role in the explanation of what a proposition
is. What would such an explanation look like? And, what sorts of entities would
it put to work? Answering these questions will illustrate Grices ontological
Marxism while clarifying the notion of a proposition. What work do the entities
in a theory of propositions do? They are to produce a theory meeting three
constraints. First, there are systematic relations between sentences and
propositions. For example, the sentence Socrates runs is correlated with the
proposition that Socrates runs; the sentence snow is white with the proposition
that snow is white, and so on. There are two determinants of the proposition
(or propositions) to which a sentence is related. One is the syntactic form of
the sentence. The sentences Clearly, John spoke and John spoke clearly are
related to different propositions by virtue of the different syntactic
relations among their respective parts. The other determinant is the meaning of
the parts of the sentence. The sentence snow is white is correlated with the
propositions that snow is white in part because snow means what it does. On
Grices theory this correlation between sentences and propositions is effected
by language-users resultant procedures. An adequate theory of propositions
should explicitly characterize this systematic relation between this or that
sentence and this or that proposition. Since there are infinitely many
sentences, one would presumably give such a characterization recursively. The
second constraint is that an account of what a proposition is should yield an
adequate account of the relation of logical consequence that we exploit in
everyday psychological explanation. E. g., if an utterer U, by uttering an
appropriate sentence, means that U knows the route and that Smith does as well,
the utterer Us addressee A may conclude that Smith knows the route. The
conclusion, the proposition that Jones knows the route, is a logical
consequence of the conjunctive proposition that the utterer U knows the route and
that Smith does as well. Given the assumption that the utterer U is
trustworthy, his addressee A is entitled to the conclusion precisely because it
is a logical consequence of the proposition that the utterer means. We
frequently exploit such a relation of logical consequence in every-day
psychological explanation, and an adequate theory of what a proposition is
should provide us with an adequate characterisation of this relation. One may
think (as Grice does) that this task is not really distinct from exhibiting the
systematic relations between this or that sentences and this or that
proposition, but it is worth stating the second constraint separately to
emphasize the role of logical consequence in psychological explanation, and
hence the relation of a theory of propositions to such explanation. A third
constraint is that a theory of what a proposition is should provide the basis,
at least, for an adequate account of the relation between thought, action, and
language on the one hand, and reality on the other. E. g., one perceives the
desk, walks over to sit at it, and utters sentences to mean things about it.
Since a proposition is the item we specify in specifying the content of a
thought, perception, intention, act of meaning, and so on, an account of what a
proposition is should at least provide the basis for an account of the relation
between mind and reality. Since Quine is the philosopher most generally
associated with the rejection of the idea of a proposition, it may be helpful
briefly to compare Quines views with Grices. Quine has two main arguments
against the idea of a propositions. The first is based on Quines arguments
that synonymy is not a well-defined equivalence relation, the identity
conditions for this or that proposition are unclear and there is no entity
without identity. V e. g., Quine, Philosophy of Logic. On this issue,
Grice is not committed to an equivalence relation of synonymy, thus his
remark about indeterminacy, but he parts company with Quine over whether clear
identity conditions are required for a kind of entity. If they work they exist,
whether we can always tell them apart or count them ‒ or not.
There are many respectable entities for which we do not have criteria of
identity. Suppose Grices favourite restaurant moves. Is it a new restaurant
with the same Names? Or suppose it changes owners and Namess but nothing else.
Or that it changes menu entirely? Or that it changes chefs? It would be foolish
to look for a single criterion to answer these questions ‒ the answers go different
ways in different contexts. But surely the concept of a restaurant is a useful
one and restaurants do exist. Quines second objection is that the idea of a
proposition does not work. Grice denies this allegation. The main reason for
disagreement is perhaps due to Quines attitude that a concept such as desire
and belief is of, at most, secondary importance in the unified canonical
science that is his standard for ontology. Grice does not believe that
every-day psychological discourse is a temporary pre-scientific
expedient to be done away with as soon as possible. On the contrary, Grice
believes that at least some psychological concepts and explanations play a
fundamental role in both semantics and ethics. To quote the relevant passage a
second time. The psychological theory which I envisage would be
deficient as a theory to explain behaviour if it did not contain provision for
interests in the ascription of psychological states otherwise than as tools for
explaining and predicting behaviour, interests e. g. on the part of one
creature to be able to ascribe these rather than those psychological states to
another creature because of a concern for the other creature. Within such a
theory it should be possible to derive strong motivations on the part of the creatures
Subjects to the theory against the abandonment of the central concepts of the
theory and so of the theory itself, motivations which the creatures would or
should regard as justified. Indeed, only from within the framework of such a
theory, I think, can matters of evaluation, and so, of the evaluation of modes
of explanation, be raised at all. If I conjecture aright, then, the entrenched
system contains the materials needed to justify its own entrenchment; whereas
no rival system contains a basis for the justification of anything at all. Now
suppose, as Grice thinks, certain ways of thinking, certain categories, are
part of what is entrenched. There are certain concepts or categories that we
cannot avoid applying to reality. The entities in these categories are entia
realissima. We discover these categories by discovering what parts of everyday
psychology are entrenched. The idea that there are necessary categories plays a
role in Grices views about ethics; in discussing this views we see why certain principles
or laws of everyday psychology are self-justifying, principles connected
with the evaluation of ends. If these same principles play a role in
determining what we count as entia realissima, metaphysics would be grounded in
part in considerations about value (a not unpleasant project).
AKRASIA: The geniality of Grice was to explore theoretical
akrasia. I. A. Richards, an emotivist, as well as Collingwood (in “Language”)
had made a stereotype of the physicist drawing a formula on the blackboard.
“Full of emotion.” So the idea that there is an UN-emotional life is a fallacy.
Emotion pervades the rational life, as does akrasia. Grice was particularly
irritated by the fact that Davidson, who lacked a background in the humanities
and the classics, could think of akrasia as “impossible”! Grice was never too
interested in emotion (or feeling) because while we do say I feel that the cat
is hungry, we also say, Im feeling byzantine. The concept of emotion needs a
philosophical elucidation. Grice was curious about a linguistic botany for
that! Akrasia for Grice covers both buletic-boulomaic and doxastic versions.
The buletic-boulomaic version may be closer to the concept of an emotion. Grice
quotes from Kennys essay on emotion. But Grice is looking for more of a
linguistic botany. As it happens, Kennys essay has Griceian implicata. One
problem Grice finds with emotion is that feel that sometimes behaves like thinks that Another is that there is no good Grecian word
for emotio. Kenny, of St. Benets, completed his essay on emotion under
Quinton (who would occasionally give seminars with Grice), and examined by two
members of Grices Play Group: Pears and Gardiner. Kenny connects an emotion to
a feeling, which brings us to Grice on feeling boringly byzantine! Grice
proposes a derivation of akrasia in conditional steps for both
buletic-boulomaic and doxastic akrasia. Hence we have in L and S, ἐπιθυμία ,
Ion. -ιη, ἡ, which they render as desire, yearning, “ἐ. ἐκτελέσαι” Hdt.1.32;
ἐπιθυμίᾳ by passion, oπρονοίᾳ, Th.6.13: generally, appetite, Pl. Cra.419d,
etc.; αἱ κατὰ τὸ σῶμα ἐ. Id. Phd. 82c; esp. sexual desire, lust, Democr.234
(pl.), Pl.Phdr.232b, etc.; αἱ πρὸς τοὺς παῖδας ἐ. X.Lac.2.14. 2.. c. gen.,
longing after a thing, desire of or for it, ὕδατος, τοῦ πιεῖν, Th. 2.52, 7.84,
etc.; “τοῦ πλέονος” Democr. 224; “τῆς τιμωρίας” Antipho 2.1.7; “τῆς μεθ᾽ ὑμῶν
πολιτείας” And. 2.10; “τῆς παρθενίας” Pl. Cra. 406b; “εἰς ἐ. τινὸς ἐλθεῖν”
Id.Criti.113d; ἐν ἐ. “τινὸς εἶναι” Id. Prt.318a, Tht.143e; “γεγονέναι” Id. Lg.
841c; εἰς ἐ. τινὸς “ἀφικέσθαι θεάσασθαι” Id.Ti.19b; “ἐ. τινὸς ἐμβαλεῖν τινί” X.
Cyr.1.1.5; ἐ. ἐμποιεῖν ἔς τινα an inclination towards, Th.4.81. II. =ἐπιθύμημα,
object of desire, ἐπιθυμίας τυχεῖν Thalesap.Stob.3.1.172, cf. Lync. ap.
Ath.7.295a; ἀνδρὸς ἐ., of woman, Secund.Sent.8; πενήτων ἐ., of sleep, prob. in
ib. 13. There must be more to emotion, such as philia, than epithumia! cf.
Grice on Aristotle on philos. What is an emotion? Aristotle, Rhetoric
II.1; D. Konstan “Pathos and Passion” R. Roberts, “Emotion”; W. Fortenbaugh,
Aristotle on Emotion; Simo Knuuttila, Emotions in Ancient and Medieval
Philosophy. Aristotle, Rhetoric II.2-12; Selections from De Anima, Nicomachean
Ethics, and Topics (Nexus); A. W. Price, "Emotions in Plato and Aristotle."
The Oxford Handbook of Philosophy of Emotion S. Leighton, Aristotle and
the Emotions, De Anima II.12 and III 1-3; De Memoria 1; Rhetoric II.5;
Scheiter, “Images, Imagination, and Appearances, V. Caston, Why Aristotle Needs
Imagination” M. Nussbaum, “Aristotle on Emotions and Rational Persuasion, J.
Cooper, “An Aristotelian Theory of Emotion, G. Striker, Emotions in Context:
Aristotles Treatment of the Passions in the Rhetoric and his Moral
Psychology." Essays on Aristotles Rhetoric (J. Dow, Aristotles Theory of
the Emotions, Moral Psychology and Human Action in Aristotle PLATO. Aristotle,
Rhetoric I.10-11; Plato Philebus 31b-50e and Republic IV (Nexus) Recommended:
D. Frede, Mixed feelings in Aristotles Rhetoric." Essays on Aristotles
Rhetoric, J. Moss, “Pictures and Passions in Plato”; Protagoras 352b-c, Phaedo
83b-84a, Timaeus 69c STOICS A. A. Long and D. N. Sedley, The Tad
Brennan, “The Old Stoic Theory of Emotion” The Emotions in Hellenistic
Philosophy, ed. by J. Sihvola, T. Engberg-Pedersen Richard Sorabji,
Emotion and Peace of Mind: From Stoic Agitation to Christian Temptation, R.
Sorabji, Chrysippus Posidonius Seneca: A High-Level Debate on Emotion. M.
Nussbaum, The Therapy of Desire: Theory and Practice in Hellenistic Ethics M.
Graver, Preface and Introduction to Cicero on Emotion: Tusculan Disputations 3
and 4 M. Graver, Stoicism and emotion. Tusculan Disputations 3 Recommended:
Graver, Margaret. "Philo of Alexandria and the Origins of the Stoic
Προπάθειαι." Phronesis. Tusculan Disputations 4 Frede, Michael. "The
Stoic doctrine of the affections of the soul." Schofield and Striker,
Brennan, T. The Stoic life: Emotions, duties, and fate”; A. C. Lloyd, Emotion
and decision in stoic psychology, The stoics, individual emotions: anger,
friendly feeling, and hatred. Aristotle Rhetoric II.2-3; Nicomachean
Ethics IV.5; Topics 2.7 and 4.5; Konstan, “Anger” Giles Pearson, Aristotle on
Desire; Scheiter, Review of Pearsons Aristotle on Desire; S. Leighton,
Aristotles Account of Anger: Narcissism and Illusions of Self‐Sufficiency, Ratio 15, M. Stocker, The Complex
Evaluative World of Aristotles Angry Man,” Valuing emotions. Cambridge
University Press, 1996. Aristotle Rhetoric II. 4; Konstan, “Hatred”
Konstan, David. "Aristotle on Anger and the Emotions: the Strategies of
Status." Ancient Anger: Perspectives from Homer to Galen, C. Rapp, The
emotional dimension of friendship: notes on Aristotles account of philia in
Rhetoric II 4” Grice endeavours to give an answer to the question whether
and to what extent philia (friendship), as it is treated by Aristotle in
Rhetoric II.4, can be considered a genuine emotion as, for example, fear and
anger are. Three anomalies are identified in the definition and the account of
philia (and of the associated verb philein), which suggest a negative response
to the question. However, these anomalies are analysed and explained in terms
of the specific notes of philia in order to show that Rhetoric II4 does allow
for a consideration of friendship as a genuine emotion. Seneca, On Anger
(De Ira) Seneca, On Anger Seneca, On Anger (62-96); K. Vogt, “Anger, Present
Injustice, and Future Revenge in Senecas De Ira” FEAR Aristotle, Rhetoric II.5;
Nicomachean Ethics III.6-9 S. Leighton, “Aristotles Courageous Passions”
Platos Laws I, S. Meyer, “Pleasure, Pain, and Anticipation in Platos Laws, Book
I” Konstan, “Fear” PITY Aristotle, Rhetoric II. 8-9; Poetics, chs. 6,
9-19 ; Konstan, “Pity” E. Belfiore, Tragic pleasures: Aristotle on plot
and emotion, D. Konstan, Aristotle on the Tragic Emotions, The Soul of Tragedy:
Essays on Athenian Drama SHAME Aristotle, Rhetoric II.6; Nicomachean
Ethics IV.9 Konstan, “Shame” J. Moss, “Shame, Pleasure, and the Divided Soul”
B. Williams, Shame and Necessity
DESIDERATUM OF CONVERSATIONAL CANDOUR: How immoral is the idea
that honesty is the best policy? Surely it is indecent. For Kant, there is no
motivation behind telling the truth. Being trustworthy is for Kant a PURE
motive. Grice agrees. Decency comes into the picture. An indecent agent may
still be rational, but in such a case, conversation would not be seen as
rational co-operation, but rational competition, rather, a zero-sum game. Grice
found the etymology of decent too obscure. Short and Lewis have ‘dĕcet,’ cuit,
2, I.v. impers. Cognate with Sanscr. dacas, fame; Gr. δοκέω, to seem, think;
Lat. decus, dingus. It is seemly, comely, becoming,; it beseems, behooves, is
fitting, suitable, proper (for syn. v. debeo init.): decere quasi aptum esse
consentaneumque tempori et personae, Cic. Or. 22, 74; cf. also nunc quid aptum
sit, hoc est, quid maxime deceat in oratione videamus, id. de Or. 3, 55, 210
(very freq. and class.; not in Caesar). Constr., with nom. or inf. of the
thing, and with acc.; less freq. with dat. of the pers.; sometimes absol.Grices
idea of decency is connected to his explorations on rational and reasonable. To
cheat may be neither unreasonable nor rational. Its just
repulsive! Indecent, in other words. In all this, Grice is concerned
with ordinary language, and treasures Austins question to Warnock (when Warnock
was looking for a fellowship at Austins college): Warnock: what would you
say the difference is between (i) and (ii)? i. Smith plays cricket rather
properly. ii. Smith plays cricket rather incorrectly. They spent the
whole dinner over such subtleties! And Warnock fell in love with
Austin. Grices explorations on trust are Warnockian in character too. For
Warnock, in Object of morality, trust is key, indeed, the very object of
morality. Grice started to focus on trust in his Oxford seminars on the
implicatum. There is a desideratum of conversational candour. And a subgoal of
the principle of conversational helpfulness is that of giving and receiving
information. False information is just no information. Grice loved that Latin
dictum, tuus candor. He makes an early defence of this in his fatal objection
to Malcolm. The philosopher cannot intentionally instill a falsehood in his
tutee. There is a transcendental justification, not just utilitarian (honesty
as the best policy). We trust ourselves that some of our
belifes have to be true, and we are equally trusted by our
conversational partners. What would otherwise be the point of holding that conversation
is rational co-operation? What would be the point of conversation simpliciter?
Autonomy, freedom, in the tradition of Kantotle, Kantotle, Kant ,
Kant, Kants ethics, Kant, mid-sentences, freedom, s. III, c. 5-f. 14-18, and s. V, c. 7-f. 14-18. Subjects: Kant, freedom,
ethics. Grice was especially concerned with Kants having brought back the
old Greek idea of eleutheria for philosophical discussion.
Philosophy, lectures, Berkeley group, team notes, s. III, c. 5-f.
26, and s. V, c. 6-f. 21. Subjects: philosophy.
KANTIANISM: Grice loved to combine Aristotle with Aristotle. So
the best way to approach Grices meta-ethics is by exploring Kants treatment of
Aristotle. Deontology means Teleology. Eventually, Grice embraces a hedonistic
eudaimonism, but rationally approved. Grice knew how to teach ethics. He taught
Kant as if he were teaching Aristotle, and vice versa. His students would say,
Here come [sic] Kantotle! Grice was obsessed with Kantotle. He would teach one
or the other as an ethics requirement. Back at Oxford, the emphasis was of
course Aristotle, but he was aware of some trends to introduce Kant in the
Lit.Hum. curriculum, not with much success! Strawson had done his share with
Kants pure reason in The bounds of sense, but White professors of moral
philosophy were usually not too keen on Kants pratical reason!
ESCHATOLOGY: Grice had been interested in the methodology of
metaphysics since his Oxford days. He counts as one memorable experience
in the area his participation in two episodes for the BBC Third Programme on
The nature of metaphysics with the organiser, Pears, and his former tutee,
Strawson on the panel. Grice was particularly keen on Collingwoods views on
metaphysical presuppositions, both absolute and relative! Grice also
considers John Wisdoms view of the metaphysical proposition as a blatant
falsehood. Grice considers Bradleys Hegelian metaphysics of the absolute, in
Appearance and reality.
PRACTICAL REASON: The weighing is central. We dont need means-end
rationality, we need value-oriented rationality. We dont need the rationality
of the means – this is obvious --. We want the rationality of the ends. The end
may justify the means. But Grice is looking for what justifies the end. The
topic of freedom fascinated Grice, because it merged the practical with the
theoretical. Grice sees the conception of freedom as crucial in his elucidation
of a rational being. Conditions of freedom are necessary for the very idea, as
Kant was well aware. A thief who is forced to steal is just a thief. Grice
would engage in a bit of language botany, when exploring the ways the adjective
free is used, freely, in ordinary language: free fall, alcohol-free,
sugar-free, and his favourite: implicature-free. Grices more systematic
reflections deal with pirotology, or creature construction. A vegetals, for
example is less free than an animal, but more free than a stone! And Humans are
more free than non-human. Grice wants to deal with some of the paradoxes
identified by Kant about freedom, and he succeeds in solving some of them.
There is a section on freedom in Action and events for The Pacific
Philosophical Quarterly where he expands on eleutheria and notes the idiocy of
a phrase like free fall. Grice was irritated by the fact that his friend Hart
wrote an essay on liberty and not on freedom.
KANTIANISM: Grice was fascinated that an Irishman, back in 1873,
would care to translate (“for me”) all that Kant had to say about Aristotles
eudaimonism and hedonism. A British philosopher is expected to be a utilitarian
(as Hare is), and thats why Grice preferred, heteroxical as he is, to be a
Kantian rationalist! He couldnt help being Aristotelian, after Hardie had
instilled the “Eth. Nich.” on him at Corpus. While Grice cant read Kant in
German, he uses the English vernacular. Note the archaic metaphysic sic in
singular. More Kant.
GRAMMAR: While philosophers would use grammar jocularly, Chomsky
didnt. The problem, as Grice notes, is that Chomsky never tells us where
grammar ends (“or begins for that matter.”) “Consider the pirot, karulising
elatically.” When Carnap introduces the pirot, he talks syntax, not grammar.
But philosophers always took semiotics more seriously than others. So Carnap is
well aware of Morriss triad of the syntactics, the semantics, and the
pragmatics. Philosophers always disliked grammar, because back in the days of
Aelfric, philosophia was supposed to embrace dialectica and grammatica, and
rhetorica. “It is all part of philosophy.” Truth-conditional semantics and
implicata.
TELEOLOGY: How does soul
originate from matter? Does the vegetal soul have a telos. Purposive-behaviour
is obvious in plants (phototropism). If it is present in the vegetal soul, its
present in the animal soul. If it is present in the animal soul, its present in
the rational soul. With each stage, alla Hartmann, there are distinctions in
the specification of the telos. Grice could be more continental than Max
Scheler! Grices métier. Unity of science was a very New-World expression that
Grice did not quite buy. Grice was brought up in a world, the Old World,
indeed, as he calls it in his Proem to the John Locke lectures, of Snows two
cultures. At the time of Grices philosophising, philosophers such as Peter
Winch (who indeed quotes fro Grice) were contesting the idea that science is
unitary, when it comes to the explanation of rational behaviour. Since a
philosophical approach to the explanation of rational behaviour, including
conversational behaviour (to account for the conversational implicata) is his
priority, Grice needs to distinguish himself from those who propose a unified
science, which Grice regards as eliminationist and reductionist. Grice is
ambivalent about science and also playful (philosophia regina scientiarum).
Grice seems to presuppose, or implicate, that, since there is the devil of scientism,
science cannot get at teleology. The devil is in the physiological details,
which are irrelevant. The language Grice uses to describe his pirots as
goal-oriented, aimed at survival and reproduction, seems teleological and
somewhat scientific, though. But he means that ironically! As the scholastics
use it, teleology is a science, the science of telos, or finality (cf.
Aristotle on telos aitia, causa finalis. The unity of science is threatened by
teleology, and vice versa. Unified science seeks for a mechanistically
derivable teleology. But Grices sympathies lie for detached finality. Grice is
obsessed with the Greek idea of a telos, as slightly overused by Aristotle.
Grice thinks that some actions are for their own sake. What is the telos of
Oscar Wilde? Can we speak of Oscar Wildes métier? If a tiger is to tigerise, a
human is to humanise, and a person is to personise. Grice thought that
teleology is a key philosophical way to contest mechanism, so popular in The
New World. Strictly, and Grice knew this, teleology is constituted as a
discipline. One term that Cicero was unable to translate! For the philosopher,
teleology is that part of philosophy that studies the realm of the telos.
Informally, teleological is opposed to mechanistic. Grice is interested in the
mechanism/teleology debate, indeed jumps into it, with a goal in mind! Grice
finds some New-World philosophers too mechanistic-oriented, in contrast with
the more two-culture atmosphere he was familiar with at Oxford! Code is the
Aristotelian, and he and Grice are especially concerned in the idea of causa
finalis. For Grice only detached finality poses a threat to Mechanism, as it
should!
THE PRINCIPLE OF CONVERSATIONAL BENEVOLENCE: If for Kant and Grice
it is the intention that matters, ill-will counts. If Smith does not want Jones
have a job, Smith has ill-will towards Jones. This is all Kant and Grice need
to call Smith a bad person. It means it is the ill-will that causes Joness not
having a job. A conceptual elucidation. Interesting from a historical point of
view seeing that Grice had introduced a principle of conversational benevolence
(i.e. conversational goodwill) as early as 1964! Malevolentia was over-used by
Cicero, translating the Grecian. Grice judges that if Jones fails to get the
job that benevolent Smith promised, Smith may still be deemed, for Kant, if not
Aristotle, to have given him the job. A similar elucidation was carried by
Urmson with his idea of supererogation (heroism and sainthood). For a hero or
saint, someones goodwill but not be good enough! Which does not mean it is ill,
either!
MYTH: Grice knew a little about Descartess “Discours de la
methode,” and he was also aware of Collingwoods similar obsession with
philosopical methodology. Grice would joke on midwifery, as the philosopher’s
apter method at Oxford: to strangle error at its birth. Grice typifies a
generation at Oxford. While he did not socialize with the crème de la crème in
pre-war Oxford, he shared some their approach. E.g. a love affair with
Russell’s logical construction. After the war, and in retrospect, Grice liked
to associate himself with Austin. He obviously felt the need to BELONG to a
group, to make a difference, to make history. Many participants of the Play
Group saw themselves as doing philosophy, rather than reading about it! It was
long after that Grice started to note the differences in methodology between
Austin and himself. His methodology changed a little. He was enamoured with
formalism for a while, and he grants that this love never ceased. In a still
later phase, he came to realise that his way of doing philosophy was part of
literature (essay writing). And so he started to be slightly more careful about
his style – which some found florid. The stylistic concerns were serious.
Oxonian philosophers like Holloway had been kept away from philosophy because
of the stereotype that the Oxonian philosophers style is pedantic, when it
neednt! A philosopher should be allowed, as Plato was, to use a myth, if he
thinks his tutee will thank him for that! Grice loved to compare his Oxonian
dialectic with Platos Athenian (strictly, Academic) dialectic. Indeed, there is
some resemblance between Platos and Grices use of myth for philosophical
methodological purposes. Grice especially enjoyed a myth in his programme in
philosophical psychology. In this, he was very much being a philosopher.
Non-philosophers usually criticise this methodological use of a myth, but they
would, wouldnt they? Grice suggests that a myth has diagogic relevance.
Creature construction (the philosopher as demi-god) if mythical, is an
easier way for a philosophy don to instil his ideas on his tutee than, say,
privileged access and incorrigibility.
DIAGOGE: The British Academy, Philosophy, conferences, discussion,
The American Philosophical Association, transcripts by Randall Parker, from the
audio-tapes contained in c. 10 within the same s. IV miscellaneous, Beanfest,
transcripts and audio-cassettes, s. IV, c. 6-f. 8, and f. 10, and s. V, c.
8-f. 4-8 Unfortunately, Parker
typed carulise for karulise. Or not.
THEORY: Grice NEEDS a theory. Not so much for his approach to
mean. He polemises with Rountree, of Somerville, that you dont need a THEORY to
analyse mean. Indeed, you cant have a theory to analyse mean, because mean is a
matter of intuition, not a theoretical concept. But Grice appeals to theory,
when dealing with willing. He knows what willing means because he relies on a
concept of folk-science. In this folk-science, willing is a theoretical
concept. Grice arrived at this conclusion by avoiding the adjective souly, and
seeing that there is no word to describe willing other than by saying its a
psychoLOGICAL concept, i.e. part of a LAW within that theory of folk-science.
That law will include, by way of ramsified naming or describing willing as a
predicate-constant. Now, this is related to metaphysics. His liberal or
ecunmenical metaphysics is best developed in terms of his ontological marxism
presented just after he has expanded on this idea of willing as a theoretical
concept, within a law involving willing (say, Grices Optimism-cum-Pesimism
law), within the folk-science of psychology that explains his behaviour. For
Aristotle, a theoria, was quite a different animal, but it had to do with
contemplatio, hence the theoretical (vita contemplativa) versus the practical
(vita activa). Grices sticking to Aristotle’srare use of theory inspires him to
develop his fascinating theory of the theory-theory. Grice realised that there is no way to refer
to things like intending except with psychological, which he takes to mean,
belonging to a pscyhological theory. Grice was keen to theorise on theorising. He
thought that Aristotle’s first philosophy (prote philosophia) is best rendered
as Theory-theory! Grice kept using Oxonian English spelling, theorising,
except when he did not! Grice calls himself folksy: his theories, even if Subjects
to various types of Ramseyfication, are popular in kind! And ceteris
paribus! Metaphysical construction is disciplined and the best theorising
the philosopher can hope for! The way Grice conceives of his Theory-theory
is interesting to revisit. A route by which Grice hopes to show the centrality
of metaphysics (as prote philosophia) involves taking seriously a few
ideas. If any region of enquiry is to be successful as
a rational enterprise, its deliverance must be expressable in the
shape of one or another of the possibly different types of theory. A
characterisation of the nature and range of a possible kind of
theory θ is needed. Such a body of characterisation must itself
be the outcome of rational enquiry, and so must itself exemplify
whatever requirement it lays down for any theory θ in
general. The characterisation must itself be
expressible as a theory θ, to be called (if you like, Grice
politely puts it!) theory-theory, or meta-theory, θ2. Now, the
specification and justification of the ideas and material presupposed
by any theory θ, whether such account falls within the bounds of
Theory-theory, θ2 would be properly called prote philosophia (first
philosophy) and may turn out to relate to what is generally accepted as
belonging to the Subjects matter of metaphysics. It might, for example,
turn out to be establishable that any theory θ has to relate to a
certain range of this or that Subjects item, has to attribute to each item this
or that predicate or attribute, which in turn has to fall within one or another
of the range of types or categories. In this way, the enquiry might lead
to recognised metaphysical topics, such as the nature of being, its range of
application, the nature of predication and a systematic account of
categories. 1980. Met. , philosophical eschatology, and Platos Republic,
Thrasymachus, social justice, Socrates, along with notes on Zeno, and topics
for pursuit, repr.in Part II, Explorations in semantics and metaphysics
to WOW , metaphysics, philosophical eschatology, Platos Republic, Socrates,
Thrasymachus, justice, moral right, legal right, Athenian dialectic.
Philosophical eschatology is a sub-discipline of metaphysics concerned with
what Grice calls a category shift. Grice, having applied such a technique to
Aristotles aporia on philos (friend) as alter ego, uses it now to tackle
Socratess view, against Thrasymachus, that right applies primarily to morality,
and secondarily to legality. Grice has a specific reason to include this in his
WOW . Grices exegesis of Plato on justice displays Grices take on the fact that
metaphysics needs to be subdivided into ontology proper and what he calls
philosophical eschatology, for the study of things like category shift and
other construction routines. The exploration of Platos Politeia thus becomes an
application of Grices philosophically eschatological approach to the item just,
as used by Socrates (morally just) and Thrasymachus (legally just). Grice has
one specific essay on Aristotle (published in The Pacific Philosophical
Quarterly). So he thought Plato merited his own essay, too! Grices focus is on
Plato’s exploration of dike. Grice is concerned with a neo-Socratic (versus
neo-Thrasymachean) account of moral justice as conceptually (or axiologically)
prior to legal justice. In the proceeding, he creates philosophical eschatology
as the other branch to metaphysics, along with good ol ontology. To say
that just crosses a categorial barrier (from the moral to the legal) is to make
a metaphysical, strictly eschatological, pronouncement. The Grice Papers locate
the Plato essay in s. II, the Socrates
essay in s. III, and the Thrasymachus
essay, under social justice, in s. V.
Grice is well aware that in his account of fairness, Rawls makes use of his
ideas on personal identity. The philosophical elucidation of fairness is of
great concern for Grice. He had been in touch with such explorations as Nozicks
and Nagels along anti-Rawlsian lines. Grices ideas on rationality guide his
exploration of social justice. Grice keeps revising the Socrates notes. The
Plato essay he actually dates 1988. As it happens, Grices most extensive
published account of Socrates is in this commentary on Platos Republic: an
eschatological commentary, as he puts it. In an entertaining fashion, Grice has
Socrates, and neo-Socrates, exploring the logic and grammar of just against the
attack by Thrasymachus and neo-Thrasymachus. Grices point is that, while the
legal just may be conceptually prior to the moral just, the moral just is
evaluationally or axiologically prior.
AXIOLOGY: Grice knew that when he heard the phrases value system,
or belief system, he was conversing with a relativist! So he plays jocular
here. If a value is not a concept, a value system at least is not what Davidson
calls a conceptual scheme! However, in “The conception of value,” Grice does
argue that value IS a concept, and thus part of Quines conceptual scheme.
Hilary Putnam congratulated Grice on this in “Facts and values,” crediting
Baker – that is “Judy” – into the bargain! Utilitarianism, as exemplified by
Bentham, denies that our common moral intuitions are to be taken literally.
Bentham assumes an axiological conceptual scheme where happiness is the maximal
value, and where happiness (eudaimonism) is understood according to hedonism –
vide Capaldi, “The analytic conversation.” (Capaldi studied at Oxford with R.
Harré. The idea of a system of values (cf. system of ends) is meant to unify
the goals of the agent in terms of the pursuit of eudæmonia. Cf. Foot, morality
as a system of conditional and suppositional imperatives.
SYNTACTICS: Grice loved two devices of the syntactic kind:
subscripts and square brackets (for the assignment of common-ground
status). Grice is a conservative (dissenting rationalist) when it
comes to syntax and semantics. He hardly uses pragmatics albeit in a loose way
(pragmatic import, pragmatic inference), but was aware of Morriss triangle. Syntax
is presented along the lines of Gentzen, i.e. a system of natural deduction in
terms of inference rules of introduction and elimination for each formal
device. Semantics pertains rather to Witterss truth-values, i.e. the
assignment of a satisfactory-valuation: the true and the good.
EXPLANATION: Ἀρχὴν δὲ τῶν πάντων ὕδωρ ὑπεστήσατο, καὶ τὸν κόσμον ἔμψυχον
καὶ δαιμόνων πλήρη. “Arkhen de ton panton hudor hupestesato.” His doctrine was
that water is the universal primary substance, and that the world is animate
and full of divinities. Ἀλλὰ Θαλῆς μὲν ὁ τῆς τοιαύτης ἀρχηγὸς φιλοσοφίας ὕδωρ
φησὶν εἶναι (διὸ καὶ τὴν γῆν ἐφ᾽ ὕδατος ἀπεφήνατο εἶναι), λαβὼν ἴσως τὴν
ὑπόληψιν ταύτην ἐκ τοῦ πάντων ὁρᾶν τὴν τροφὴν ὑγρὰν οὖσαν καὶ αὐτὸ τὸ θερμὸν ἐκ
τούτου γιγνόμενον καὶ τούτῳ ζῶν (τὸ δ᾽ ἐξ οὗ γίγνεται, τοῦτ᾽ ἐστὶν ἀρχὴ πάντων)
– διά τε δὴ τοῦτο τὴν ὑπόληψιν λαβὼν ταύτην καὶ διὰ τὸ πάντων τὰ σπέρματα τὴν
φύσιν ὑγρὰν ἔχειν, τὸ δ᾽ ὕδωρ ἀρχὴν τῆς φύσεως εἶναι τοῖς ὑγροῖς. εἰσὶ δέ τινες
οἳ καὶ τοὺς παμπαλαίους καὶ πολὺ πρὸ τῆς νῦν γενέσεως καὶ πρώτους θεολογήσαντας
οὕτως οἴονται περὶ τῆς φύσεως ὑπολαβεῖν‧ Ὠκεανόν τε γὰρ καὶ Τηθὺν ἐποίησαν τῆς γενέσεως
πατέρας [Hom. Ξ 201], καὶ τὸν ὅρκον τῶν θεῶν ὕδωρ, τὴν καλουμένην ὑπ᾽ αὐτῶν
Στύγα τῶν ποιητῶν‧ τιμιώτατον μὲν γὰρ τὸ πρεσβύτατον, ὅρκος δὲ τὸ τιμιώτατόν ἐστιν.
εἰ μὲν οὖν [984a] ἀρχαία τις αὕτη καὶ παλαιὰ τετύχηκεν οὖσα περὶ τῆς φύσεως ἡ
δόξα, τάχ᾽ ἂν ἄδηλον εἴη, Θαλῆς μέντοι λέγεται οὕτως ἀποφήνασθαι περὶ τῆς
πρώτης αἰτίας. (Ἵππωνα γὰρ οὐκ ἄν τις ἀξιώσειε θεῖναι μετὰ τούτων διὰ τὴν
εὐτέλειαν αὐτοῦ τῆς διανοίας)‧ Ἀναξιμένης δὲ ἀέρα καὶ Διογένης πρότερον ὕδατος
καὶ μάλιστ᾽ ἀρχὴν τιθέασι τῶν ἁπλῶν σωμάτων, [].Th 30 De caelo 2.13.294a28–b6
(ed. Allan) Οἱ δ᾽ ἐφ᾽ ὕδατος κεῖσθαι [sc. τὴν γὴν]. τοῦτον γὰρ ἀρχαιότατον
παρειλήφαμεν τὸν λόγον, ὅν φασιν εἰπεῖν Θαλῆν τὸν Μιλήσιον, ὡς διὰ τὸ πλωτὴν
εἶναι μένουσαν ὥσπερ ξύλον ἤ τι τοιοῦτον ἕτερον (καὶ γὰρ τούτων ἐπ᾽ ἀέρος μὲν
οὐθὲν πέφυκε μένειν, ἀλλ᾽ ἐφ᾽ ὕδατος), ὥσπερ οὐ τὸν αὐτὸν λόγον ὄντα περὶ τῆς
γῆς καὶ τοῦ ὕδατος τοῦ ὀχοῦντος τὴν γῆν‧ οὐδὲ γὰρ τὸ ὕδωρ πέφυκε μένειν μετέωρον, ἀλλ᾽ ἐπί
τινός [294b] ἐστιν. ἔτι δ᾽ ὥσπερ ἀὴρ ὕδατος κουφότερον, καὶ γῆς ὕδωρ‧ ὥστε πῶς οἷόν τε τὸ
κουφότερον κατωτέρω κεῖσθαι τοῦ βαρυτέρου τὴν φύσιν; ἔτι δ᾽ εἴπερ ὅλη πέφυκε
μένειν ἐφ᾽ ὕδατος, δῆλον ὅτι καὶ τῶν μορίων ἕκαστον [αὐτῆς]‧ νῦν δ᾽ οὐ φαίνεται
τοῦτο γιγνόμενον, ἀλλὰ τὸ τυχὸν μόριον φέρεται εἰς βυθόν, καὶ θᾶττον τὸ μεῖζον.
The problem of the nature of matter, and its transformation into the myriad
things of which the universe is made, engaged the natural philosophers,
commencing with Thales. For his hypothesis to be credible, it was essential
that he could explain how all things could come into being from water, and
return ultimately to the originating material. It is inherent in Thaless
hypotheses that water had the potentiality to change to the myriad things of
which the universe is made, the botanical, physiological, meteorological and
geological states. In Timaeus, 49B-C, Plato had Timaeus relate a cyclic
process. The passage commences with that which we now call “water” and
describes a theory which was possibly that of Thales. Thales would have
recognized evaporation, and have been familiar with traditional views, such as
the nutritive capacity of mist and ancient theories about spontaneous
generation, phenomena which he may have observed, just as Aristotle believed
he, himself had, and about which Diodorus Siculus, Epicurus (ap. Censorinus,
D.N. IV.9), Lucretius (De Rerum Natura) and Ovid (Met. I.416-437) wrote. When
Aristotle reported Thales’s pronouncement that the primary principle is water,
he made a precise statement: Thales says that it [the nature of things] is
water, but he became tentative when he proposed reasons which might have
justified Thaless decision. Thales’s supposition may have arisen from
observation. It is Aristotle’s opinion that Thales may have observed, that the
nurture of all creatures is moist, and that warmth itself is generated from
moisture and lives by it; and that from which all things come to be is their
first principle. Then, Aristotles tone changed towards greater confidence. He
declared: Besides this, another reason for the supposition would be that the
semina of all things have a moist nature. In continuing the criticism of
Thales, Aristotle wrote: That from which all things come to be is their first
principle (Metaph. 983 b25). Simple
metallurgy had been practised long before Thales presented his hypotheses, so Thales
knew that heat could return metals to a liquid state. Water exhibits sensible
changes more obviously than any of the other so-called elements, and can readily
be observed in the three states of liquid, vapour and ice. The understanding
that water could generate into earth is basic to Thaless watery thesis. At
Miletus it could readily be observed that water had the capacity to thicken
into earth. Miletus stood on the Gulf of Lade through which the Maeander river
emptied its waters. Within living memory, older Milesians had witnessed the
island of Lade increasing in size within the Gulf, and the river banks
encroaching into the river to such an extent that at Priene, across the gulf
from Miletus the warehouses had to be rebuilt closer to the waters edge. The
ruins of the once prosperous city-port of Miletus are now ten kilometres
distant from the coast and the Island of Lade now forms part of a rich agricultural
plain. There would have been opportunity to observe other areas where earth
generated from water, for example, the deltas of the Halys, the Ister, about
which Hesiod wrote (Theogony, 341), now called the Danube, the
Tigris-Euphrates, and almost certainly the Nile. This coming-into-being of land
would have provided substantiation of Thaless doctrine. To Thales water held
the potentialities for the nourishment and generation of the entire cosmos.
Aëtius attributed to Thales the concept that even the very fire of the sun and
the stars, and indeed the cosmos itself is nourished by evaporation of the
waters (Aëtius, Placita, I.3). It is not
known how Thales explained his watery thesis, but Aristotle believed that the reasons
he proposed were probably the persuasive factors in Thaless considerations.
Thales gave no role to the Olympian gods. Belief in generation of earth from
water was not proven to be wrong until A.D. 1769 following experiments of
Antoine Lavoisier, and spontaneous generation was not disproved until the
nineteenth century as a result of the work of Louis Pasteur.The first
philosophical explanation of the world was speculative not practical. has its intelligibility in being identified
with one of its parts (the world is water). First philosophical explanation for
Universe human is rational and the world
in independent; He said the arché is water; Monist: He believed reality is one Thales of Miletus, first philosophical
explanation of the origin and nature of justice (and Why after all, did a Thales is Water.” Without the millions of species
that make up the biosphere, and the billions of interactions between them that
go on day by day,.Oddly, Grice had spent some time on x-questions in the Kant
lectures. And why is an x-question. A philosophical explanation of
conversation. A philosophical explanation of implicature. Description vs.
explanation. Grice quotes from Fisher, Never contradict. Never explain.
Taxonomy, is worse than explanation, always. Grice is exploring the
taxonomy-description vs. explanation dichotomy. He would often criticise
ordinary-language philosopher Austin for spending too much valuable time on
linguistic botany, without an aim in his head. Instead, his inclination, a
dissenting one, is to look for the big picture of it all, and disregard a
piece-meal analysis. Conversation is a good example. While Austin would Subjectsify
Language (Linguistic Nature), Grice rather places rationality squarely on the
behaviour displayed by utterers as they make conversational moves that their
addressees will judge as rational along specific lines. Observation of the
principle of conversational helpfulness is rational (reasonable) along the
following lines: anyone who cares about the two goals which are central to
conversation, viz. giving and receiving information, and influencing and being
influenced by others, is expected to have an interest in taking part in a
conversation which will only be profitable (if not possible) under the
assumption that it is conducted along the lines of the principle of
conversational helpfulness. Grice is not interested in conversation per se, but
as a basis for a theory that explains the mistakes ordinary-language
philosophers are making. The case of What is known to be the case is not
believed to be the case.
LINGUISTIC BOTANY: Grice was a meta-linguistic botanist. His point
was to criticise ordinary-language philosophers criticising philosophers. Say:
Plato and Ayer say that episteme is a kind of doxa. The contemporary, if dated,
ordinary-language philosopher detects a nuance, and embarks risking collision
with the conversational facts or data: rushes ahead to exploit the nuance
without clarifying it, with wrong dicta like: What I known to be the case I
dont believe to be the case. Surely, a cancellable implicatum generated by the
rational principle of conversational helpfulness is all there is to the nuance.
Grice knew that unlike the ordinary-language philosopher, he was not providing
a taxonomy or description, but a theoretical explanation.
META-ETHICS: Grice objected Hares use of descriptivism and
Strawsons use of definite descriptor. Grice preferred to say “the the.”. “Surely
Hare is wrong when sticking with his anti-descriptivist diatribe. Even his
dictum is descriptive!” Grice was amused that it all started with Abbott BEFORE
1879, since Abbott’s first attempt was entitled, “Kant’s theory of ethics, or
practical philosophy” (1873). ”! Grices explorations on morals are language
based. With a substantial knowledge of the classical languages (that are so
good at verb systems and modes like the optative, that English lacks), Grice
explores modals like should, (Hampshire) ought to (Hare) and, must
(Grice ‒ necessity). Grice is well aware of Hares reflections on the neustic
qualifications on the phrastic. The imperative has usually been one source for
the philosophers concern with the language of morals. Grice attempts to
balance this with a similar exploration on good, now regarded as the
value-paradeigmatic notion par excellence. We cannot understand, to echo
Strawson, the concept of a person unless we understand the concept of a good
person, i.e. the philosopher’s conception of a good person. Morals
is very Oxonian. There were in Grices time only three chairs of philosophy at
Oxford: the three W: the Waynflete chair of metaphysical philosophy, the
Wykeham chair of logic (not philosophy, really), and the White chair of moral
philosophy. Later, the Wilde chair of philosophical psychology was
created. Grice was familiar with Austin’s cavalier attitude to morals as
Whites professor of moral philosophy, succeeding Kneale. When Hare
succeeds Austin, Grice knows that it is time to play with the neustic
implicatum! Grices approach to morals is very meta-ethical and starts with
a fastidious (to use Blackburns characterisation, not mine!) exploration of
modes related to propositional phrases involving should, ought to, and
must. For Hampshire, should is the moral word par excellence. For
Hare, it is ought. For Grice, it is only must that preserves that sort of
necessity that, as a Kantian rationalist, he is looking for. However, Grice
hastens to add that whatever hell say about the buletic, practical or boulomaic
must must also apply to the doxastic must, as in What goes up must come down.
That he did not hesitate to use necessity operators is clear from his axiomatic
treatment, undertaken with Code, on Aristotelian categories of izzing and
hazzing. To understand Grices view on ethics, we should return to the idea
of creature construction in more detail. Suppose we are
genitors-demigods-designing living creatures, creatures Grice calls pirots. To
design a type of pirot is to specify a diagram and table for that type plus
evaluative procedures, if any. The design is implemented in animal stuff-flesh
and bones typically. Let us focus on one type of pirot-a very sophisticated
type that Grice, borrowing from Locke, calls very intelligent rational pirots.
Think of them very roughly as creatures with the capacities for thought and
action characteristic of persons. Being benevolent genitors, we want to design
these pirots so as to maximize their chances for survival. As Grice recently
pointed out in conversation-by talk of survival, he does not, in the case of
very intelligent rational pirots, mean simply staying alive. A full explanation
of what Grice has in mind here would require an account of his views on
teleology; however, for our purposes a full explanation is unnecessary. We need
note only the following points. First, in constructing pirots we build in
certain ends, and for our purposes we may imagine ourselves as having a fairly
free hand in deciding what ends to select. To build in an end is to construct
the diagram and table so that the pirots have that end as a standing, constant
end-an end where they strive to realize in all appropriate circumstances. The
restriction to appropriate circumstances is necessary for two reasons. First,
we will want to endow the pirots with a variety of ends, and we will not want a
pirot to try to realize each end at each moment of time. We want them to
schedule their pursuit of ends in a way that maximizes the realization of the
whole array in the long run. Second, we will, in the case of very
intelligent rational pirots, want to give them the (limited) ability to
eliminate (or inhibit for a long time the pursuit of) built-in ends should
circumstances prove especially inappropriate. Now we can explain what, for
present purposes, we mean by survival: to maximize chances for survival is to
maximize chances for the realization of built-in ends. How are we to design the
pirots so as to maximize their chances for realizing the built-in ends? The
answer would be easy if we could take as given a very detailed specification of
the environment in which the pirots live. Then we could tailor the diagram and
table to that specific environment by building in exactly the responses that
the environment demands. But we cannot assume such a specific description of
the environment; on the contrary, we know that the pirots will face a variety
of changing environments. So we need to design the pirots to function
effectively in the widest possible range of environments. We could, of course,
avoid this if we were willing to descend periodically from Olympus in order to
redesign the pirots in response to each significant change in the environment.
But there is a more efficient way to achieve the same result: we give the
pirots the ability to redesign themselves. There are two aspects to this
ability. First among the ends we build in is the end of being an end-setter. To
be an end-setter requires that one have the (limited) ability to adopt new ends
and to eliminate ends one already has. To have the end of being an end-setter
is to have the end of employing this ability to adopt and eliminate ends. This
is not, as we will see, a complete specification of what it is to be an
end-setter, but it will suffice for the moment. By making the pirots
end-setters we will enable them to redesign themselves by altering what they
aim at. Second, to enable pirots to determine when to use their end-setting
ability, we have given them an appropriate set of evaluative principles. These
principles incorporate in the pirots some of our wisdom as genitors. We do not
need to descend periodically to redesign them because in a sense we are always
present-having endowed them with some of our divine knowledge. What does this
have to do with ethics? Grice answers this question in Method in Philosophical
Psychology. To interpret the reference to rational capacities and dispositions
in the following passage, recall that, given the connection between evaluative
principles and rationality Grice spells it out, we have, in giving the pirots
evaluative principles, given them a capacity for rational evaluation. Let me be
a little more explicit, and a great deal more speculative, about the possible
relation to ethics of my programme for philosophical psychology. I shall suppose
that the genitorial programme has been realized to the point at which we have
designed a class of pirots which, nearly following Locke, I might call very
intelligent rational pirots. These pirots will be capable of putting themselves
in the genitorial position, of asking how, if they were constructing themselves
with a view to their own survival, they would execute this task; and, if we
have done our work aright, their answer will be the same as ours . We might,
indeed, envisage the contents of a highly general practical manual, which these
pirots would be in a position to compile. The contents of the initial manual
would have various kinds of generality which are connected with familiar
discussions of universalizability. The pirots have, so far, been endowed only
with the characteristics which belong to the genitorial justified psychological
theory; so the manual will have to be formulated in terms of that theory,
together with the concepts involved in the very general description of
livingconditions which have been used to set up that theory; the manual will
therefore have conceptual generality. There will be no way of singling out a
special subclass of addressees, so the injunctions of the manual will have to
be addressed, indifferently, to any very intelligent rational pirot, and will
thus have generality of form. And since the manual can be thought of as being
composed by each of the so far indistinguishable pirots, no pirot would include
in the manual injunctions prescribing a certain line of conduct in
circumstances to which he was not likely to be Subjects; nor indeed could he do
so even if he would. So the circumstances for which conduct is prescribed could
be presumed to be such as to be satisfied, from time to time, by any addressee;
the manual, then, will have generality of application. Such a manual might,
perhaps, without ineptitude be called an immanuel; and the very intelligent
rational pirots, each of whom both composes it and from time to time heeds it,
might indeed be ourselves (in our better moments, of course). We can both
explain and motivate this approach to ethics by considering three objections.
First, one may complain that the above remarks are extremely vague. In
particular, what are the evaluative principles-the rational capacities and
dispositions-with which we endow the pirots? These principles play a central
role in compiling the manual (Immanuel). How can we evaluate the suggested
approach to ethics until we are told what these evaluative principles are? This
complaint is somewhat unjust-in the context of Method in Philosophical
Psychology at least, for there Grice labels his remarks as speculative. But,
more importantly, Grice has done a considerable amount of work directed toward
providing this objection with the information it demands; this work includes
investigations of happiness, freedom, reasoning, and teleology. While the
examination of these projects is unfortunately beyond the scope of our
introduction, we should comment briefly on Grices work on happiness. In Some
Reflections about Ends and Happiness, Grice develops an account of happiness,
and on this account it is clear that the conception of happiness could
certainly function as a central evaluative principle in endsetting. It is also
worth remarking here that Grices views on happiness are very Aristotelian;
Grice emphasizes the Kantian aspect of his view in the passage quoted, but when
the views are worked out, one finds a blend of Kantian and Aristotelian themes.
The second objection is that Grices approach makes it too easy to escape the
demands of morality. What can Grice say to a personor pirot-who rejects the
manual, rejects moral demands and constraints? Suppose, for example, that a
person reasons as follows: If I continue to heed the voice of morality, I will
continue on occasion to sacrifice my welfare and interests in favor of anothers
welfare and interests. Why should I be such a fool? After all, what am I after
except getting as much as I can of what I want. Thorough-going egoism is the
path to take; Ill have to resist these impulses to help others, in the way I
resist sweets when I am dieting. Perhaps I will be able to condition such
impulses out of myself in time. Does Grices approach have a reply to the
consistent thorough-going egoist? It does-as Grice pointed out in a recent
conversation; the considerations which follow are based on that conversation.
First we need to provide a more detailed account of end-setting. When we give
our pirots the end of end-setting we have a good reason for giving them each of
the evaluative principles in order to build in the capacity to redesign
themselves, and we build in that capacity in order to maximize their chances of
realizing their ends over the widest possible range of environments. So we have
a good reason for giving them each of the end-setting evaluative principles: Namesly,
each one contributes to the capacity of redesigning in a way that maximizes the
chances of realizing endls. The pirots themselves are capable of recognizing
that the evaluative principles make such a contribution, so each pirot has (or
can have) a reason for having the evaluative principles. (We are assuming that
contributing to the maximization of the realization of ends constitutes a good
reason; a defence of this assumption would require an examination of Grices
view on teleology.) A second essential point is that we design the pirots so
that they do not simply adopt or eliminate ends at will; rather, they do so
only when they have good reasons to do so-good reasons derived from the
evaluative principles that govern end-setting. We design them this way in order
to maximize their chances for the realization of their ends. We want them to
use their ability for end-setting only when the evaluative principles we have
built in determine that a change of ends is called for in order to maximize the
overall realization of ends. (In the typical case at least, an end-setter will
only alter some of his ends as to maximize the realization of all his
(remaining and newly adopted) ends.) An end-setter then has the end of adopting
or eliminating ends when he has good reasons to do so-where these reasons are
provided by evaluative principles; and these evaluative principles are such
that he has a good reason for having each of those principles. Let us call such
an end-setter a Griceian end-setter. Returning now to egoism, we can
distinguish three different situations in which one might try to reject the
demands of morality. Before going on, one may insist on knowing what we mean by
the demands of morality, but it is enough for present purposes that we agree
that morality demands at least that one does not always treat others purely as
means to ones own ends. It is this demand that the egoist described earlier
rejects. First, if the egoist is a Griceian end-setter who wishes to remain a
Griceian end-setter, then he cannot abandon the non-egotistical principles
since they are self-justifying and do not depend on other premisses. Second, if
the egoist envisioned is one who would cease to be a Griceian end-setter, this too
is impossible for a rational agent. Being a Griceian end-setter is itself one
of the self-justifying ends, and thus it can be abandoned only if one abandons
reasoning. Finally, there is the question of whether an agent who is not a
Griceian end-setter can be an egoist. Again the answer appears to be no, if the
agent is rational and considers the question. For being a Griceian end-setter
can be seen on reflection to be a self-justifying end, and thus must be adopted
by any reflective rational agent. Let this suffice as a brief indication of
Grices approach to the second objection, and let us turn to the third and last
objection. This objection concerns what we have been calling the demands of
morality; the objection is that the notion of demand is vague. What do we mean
by demand when we talk of the demands of morality? What kind of demand is this?
What sort of claim is it that morality has on us? Grice has done a considerable
amount of work relevant to this question including Probability, Desirability,
and Mood Operators, the John Locke Lectures, and recent work on Kant. In
explaining the claim morality has on us, Grice employs distinctions and
notation provided by his theory of meaning. We can begin with the sentence Pay
Jones the money! Grice assigns this sentence the following structure: !+I pay
Jones the money where ! is the imperative mood operator and I pay Jones the
money is a moodless sentence radical. This structure is embeddable in other
sentences. In particular, it occurs in both I should pay Jones the money and I
should not pay Jones the money. Grice assigns these the following structures:
Acc+!+I pay Jones the money; Not+ Acc+! +I pay Jones the money, where Ace may
be read as it is acceptable that. So if we read ! as let it be the case that,
the whole string, Acc+! I pay Jones the money may be read as: It is acceptable
that (let) it be the case that I pay Jones the money (whole Not+ Acc.+! +I pay
Jones the money may be read as It is not the case that it is acceptable that
(let) it be the case that I pay Jones the money). In Probability, Desirability,
and Mode Operators Grice motivates this assignment of structures by arguing, in
effect, that the sentence I should pay Jones the money means-on the central and
important reading-that it is acceptable that (let) it be the case that I pay
Jones the money. The argument rests on an analysis of practical reasoning and
on the analysis of sentence meaning. Actually, Grice does not say that I should
pay Jones the money means what we just said it means. In Probability,
Desirability, and Mode Operators he is much more circumspect. After discussing
probability inferences, Grice notes that, bearing in mind the variety of
interpretations to which sentences containing ought and should are susceptible,
he finds it natural to take, as practical analogues to sentences like an
invalid is likely to be in retirement, sentences like it is desirable for an
invalid to keep in touch with his doctor. For expositional purposes, he uses
should-sentences since the interpretation we want these sentences to bear is
clear, and the use of should-sentences highlights the connections with ordinary
moral reasoning. Suppose morality demands that I pay Jones the money; that is,
I act morally only if I pay Jones the money. Grice holds that this is true only
if an appropriate sentence (or thought) is derivable from my evaluative
principles-a sentence (or thought) whose underlying structure is Acc+!+I pay
Jones the money. I can, that is, derive that it is acceptable that (let) it be
the case that I pay Jones the money; in other words, that I should pay Jones
the money. Grice holds that since I derive this from evaluative principles, it
is necessary; that is, it is necessary that I should pay Jones the money. There
are two points to note in order to explain the claim morality has on us. First,
Grice holds that the self-justifying evaluative principles are necessarily
true, and he holds that I can show, e.g. that it is necessarily true that I
should pay Jones the money, by constructing a suitable derivation of I should
pay Jones the money from my self-justifying evaluative principles. These claims
follow from a general view Grice has of the nature of necessity, a view that he
considers elsewhere. To be more precise, what I derive from my evaluative principles
is a sentence with the underlying structure: Acc+!I pay Jones the money, which
we read as It is acceptable that (let) it be the case that I pay Jones the
money. Since it is possible to construct an appropriate derivation it is
necessary that it is acceptable that (let) it be the case that I pay Jones the
money. This is how we should understand attaching necessary to a
should-statement. The sentence Necessarily, I should pay Jones the money
expresses the necessary acceptability of the imperative Pay Jones the money!
(Since my derivation will involve contingent information about the
circumstances C, we should represent what I derive as I should in these
circumstances C pay Jones the money; this will be what is necessary. We ignore
this detail.) Second, it does not follow from the fact that it is necessary
that I should pay Jones the money that I will pay him the money. Even if it is
necessary that it is acceptable that (let) it be the case that I pay Jones the
money, and even if I derive this, I may not act on it. It is true that I cannot
have a good reason not to act on it; after all, I have derived the necessity of
accepting the imperative, Pay Jones the money!; and as a Griceian end-setter I
am committed to acting on such reasons; but this does not mean I will. A person
is capable of irrationality-even in the face of acknowledged necessity. Now we
are in a position to explain what we mean by talk of the demands of morality.
The demands of morality are expressed by necessary should-statements. Or perhaps
we may want to say that they are expressed by a special subset of such
statements. We need not investigate this possibility since it would not alter
the point we are making here-which is that the demands of morality express the
necessity of rational agents accepting and acting on certain imperatives (in so
far as they act rationally). Consider the role elements of Grices theory of
meaning play in the above discussion of ethics, we have in a way returned to
the startingpoint of our exposition of Grices views. And it is certainly high
time we let the discoverer of M-intentions formulate some in response to what
we have written. High time but not quite time. For one thing, we should note
that the discussion of ethics resolves an issue we suppressed when discussing
psychological explanation. At one point in that section, we wrote, with respect
to M-intending, Given our ends and our environment, there is good and decisive
reason to have such a pre-rational structure. We did not raise the question of
what makes those considerations into a reason; we tacitly assumed that
relations to happiness and survival secured that the considerations counted as
reasons. The ethics discussion points the way to detailed and informative
treatment of this issue. Not that the discussion suggests that we were wrong to
appeal tacitly to happiness and survival; on the contrary, it indicates that we
should explain the reason-giving force of such considerations by examining the
role they play for a Griceian-end-setter.
KANTIANISM: Since Baker, unlike Grice, did not read the
vernacular, it might be good to review the editions. It all started when T. K. Abbott
thought that his fellow Irishmen were unable to tackle Kant in the vernacular.
Abbott’s thing came out in 1973. Kant’s critique of practical reason and other
works on the theory of tthics (London 1889), with Grice quipping, “Oddly, I
prefer his other work!”. 1895 Fundamental principles of the metaphysics of
ethics, tr. Thomas Kingsmill Abbott (1829–1913). London, New York [etc.]:
Longmans, Green and co. 1949 Fundamental Principles of the Metaphysic of Morals,
tr. Abbott; introduction by Marvin Fox. Indianapolis, NY: Bobbs-Merrill. 2005
Fundamental principles of the metaphysics of ethics, tr. Abbott. Mineola, NY:
Dover Publications. 2005 Groundwork for the metaphysics of morals, tr. Abbott,
edited with revisions by L. Denis, Peterborough, Ont.; Orchard Park, NY: Broadview
Press; 1938 The fundamental principles of the metaphysic of ethics, tr. O.
Manthey-Zorn. New York, London: D. Appleton-Century Company, Incorporated. 1948
The moral law, tr. H. Paton, London, New York: Hutchinsons University Library.
1967 The moral law; Kants Groundwork of the metaphysic of morals, tr. H. Paton,
New York, Barnes & Noble. 1991 The moral law: Kant’s groundwork of the
metaphysic of morals, tr. H. Paton, London; New York: Routledge. 1959
Foundations of the metaphysics of morals, and What is enlightenment?
translated, with an introduction by L. Beck. New York: Liberal Arts Press. 1969
Foundations of the metaphysics of morals, tr. Lewis White Beck (1913-1997),
with critical essays edited by Robert Paul Wolff. Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill.
1990 Foundations of the metaphysics of morals and What is enlightenment (Second
Edition, Revised), tr., with an introduction by L. Beck, New York: Macmillan;
London Collier Macmillan. 1970 Kant on the foundation of morality; a modern
version of the Grundlegung, translated with commentary by Brendan E. A.
Liddell. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. 1981 Grounding for the
metaphysics of morals, tr. J. Ellington, Indianapolis: Hackett Pub. Co.; 1983
Ethical philosophy : the complete texts of Grounding for the metaphysics of
morals, and Metaphysical principles of virtue, part II of The metaphysics of
morals, tr. J. Ellington (1927-); introduction by Warner A. Wick. Indianapolis:
Hackett Pub. Co. 1993 Grounding for the metaphysics of morals; with, On a
supposed right to lie because of philanthropic concerns (Third Edition), tr. J.
Ellington, Indianapolis: Hackett Pub. Co. 1994 Ethical philosophy : the
complete texts of grounding for the metaphysics of morals and metaphysical
principles of virtue, tr. J. Ellington. Indianapolis, IN: Hackett Pub. ; Groundwork
of the metaphysics of morals, tr. M. Gregor, with an introduction by C.
Korsgaard. Cambridge, U.K. 1998; New York: Cambridge; Groundwork for the
metaphysics of morals, tr. Arnulf Zweig, edited by Thomas E. Hill, Jr. and
Arnulf Zweig. Oxford, 2002. Groundwork for the metaphysics of morals, tr. Allen
W. Wood, with essays by J. B. Schneewind, et al. New Haven: Yale University
Press. 2005 Groundwork for the Metaphysic of Morals, edited for easier reading
by J. Bennett. 2011 Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals: A German-English
Edition, ed. and tr. Mary Gregor and Jens Timmermann. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press. ISBN 978-0-521-51457-6 (hardcover) 2013 Groundlaying toward
the Metaphysics of Morals, two translations (one for scholars, one for
students) in multiple formats, by S. Orr. Grice collaborated with Baker mainly
on work on ethics seen as an offspring, alla Kant, of philosophical psychology.
Akrasia was one such topic. Baker contributes to PGRICE, a festschrift for
Grice, with an essay on the purity, and alleged lack thereof, of morally
evaluable motives. Do ones motives have to be pure? For Grice
morality cashes out in interest, or desire. Baker also contributes to a volume
on Grices honour published by Palgrave, Meaning and analysis: essays on H.
P. Grice. Baker is the organiser of a symposium on the thought of Grice
for the American Philosophical Association, the proceedings of which are
published in The Journal of Philosophy, with Bennett as chair, and
contributions by Baker, Grandy, and comments by Stalnaker andWarner. Grice
explored with Baker problems of akrasia and the reduction of duty to interest.
BULETIC: The system of values of the agents society forms the external standard for judging the relative importance of the agents commitments. There are three dimensions of value: universally human, cultural that vary with societies and times; and personal that vary with individuals. Each dimension has a standard for judging the adequacy of the relevant values. Human values are adequate if they satisfy basic needs; cultural values are adequate if they provide a system of values that sustains the allegiance of the inhabitants of a society; and personal values are adequate if the conceptions of well‐being formed out of them enable individuals to live satisfying lives. These values conflict and our well‐being requires some way of settling their conflicts, but there is no universal principle for settling the conflicts; it can only be done by attending to the concrete features of particular conflicts. These features vary with circumstances and values. Grice reads Porter.The idea of the value chain is based on the process view of organizations, the idea of seeing a manufacturing (or service) organization as a system, made up of subsystems each with inputs, transformation processes and outputs. Inputs, transformation processes, and outputs involve the acquisition and consumption of resources – money, labour, materials, equipment, buildings, land, administration and management. How value chain activities are carried out determines costs and affects profits.In his choice of value system and value sub-system, Grice is defending objectivity, since its usually the axiological relativist who uses such a pretentious phrasing! More than a value may co-ordinate in a system. One such is eudæmonia (cf. system of ends). Kants problem is the reduction of the categorical imperative to the hypothetical or suppositional imperative. For Kant, a value tends towards the Subjectsive. Grice, rather, wants to offer a metaphysical defence of objective value. Grice called the manual of conversational maxims the Conversational Immanuel.
AXIOLOGY: Grice quotes from Berlin of
Corpus. Oppenheim draws the distinction usually attributed to Hume between
descriptive and value judgements and points to the existence of a chasm across
which no logical bridge can be thrown.
He maintains, if I understand him rightly, that the predicate rational
may legitimately be used only to describe judgements or beliefs about matters
of fact or logical relations – for example, about facts or events, including
such issues as whether a given means is adequate for the fulfilment of a given
end or whether a particular policy is compatible with some other policy pursued
by the same agent, and the like. But the term rational cannot, I gather, be
applied to ends themselves; those are neither rational nor irrational, since
values are not the kind of entity to which the conception of rationality is
applicable. I have much sympathy with this view, which I myself once used to
hold. But it seems to me that negative
instances can be produced which falsify the proposition that this gap between
means and ends is logically unbridgeable. Let me suggest one. Suppose I meet a man who is in the habit
of pushing pins into other people. I ask him why he does this, he says that it
gives him pleasure. I ask him whether it is the fact that he causes pain that
gives him pleasure. He replies that he does not mind whether he causes pain or
not, since what gives him pleasure is the physical sensation of driving a pin
into human bodies. I ask him whether he is aware that his actions cause pain.
He says that he is. I ask him whether he would not feel pain if others did this
to him. He agrees that he would. I ask him whether he would allow this to
happen. He says that he would seek to
prevent it by every means that he could command. I ask him whether he does not
think that others must feel pain when he drives pins into them, and whether he
should do to others what he would try to prevent them from doing to him. He
says that he does not understand. Pins
driven into him cause him pain and he wishes to prevent this. Pins driven by
him into others do not cause him pain, but on the contrary, positive pleasure,
and he therefore wishes to continue to do it.
I ask him whether the fact that he causes pain to other people does not
seem to him to be relevant to the question of whether it is desirable to drive
pins into people or not. He says he cannot see what I am driving at: what
possible difference can pain caused to others, or the absence of it, make to
the desirability of obtaining pleasure in the way that he seeks to obtain
it? I ask him what it is that gives
him pleasure in this particular activity. He replies that he likes driving pins
into resilient bodies. I ask whether he would derive equal pleasure from
driving pins into, say, tennis balls. He says that he would, that what he
drives his pins into, human beings or tennis balls, makes little difference to
him – the pleasure is similar, and he is quite prepared to have tennis balls
substituted, if that is what I want; he cannot understand my strange concern –
what possible difference can it make whether his pins perforate living men or
tennis balls? At this point, I begin to suspect that he is in some way
deranged. I do not say (with Hume), Here
is a man with a very different scale or moral values from my own. Values are
not susceptible to argument. I can disagree but not reason with him, as I
should be inclined to say of a man who believes in hara-kiri or genocide. I
rather incline to the belief that the pin-pusher who is puzzled by my questions
is to be classified with homicidal lunatics and should be confined in an asylum
and not in an ordinary prison. I do this because a man who cannot see that the
suffering of pain is an issue of major importance in human life – that it
matters at all – who cannot see why anyone should wish to know – still less
mind – whether pain is caused or not, provided he does not suffer it himself,
is virtually beyond the reach of communication from the world occupied by me
and my fellow men. His whole pattern of experience is remote from mine;
communication is as unattainable as it is with a man who thinks that he is
Julius Caesar or that he is dead or that he is a doorknob, like the characters
in the stories of E. T. A. Hoffman. This seems to me to show that recognition
of some values – however general and however few – enters into the normal
definition of what constitutes a sane human being. We may find that these ends
do not remain constant if we look far enough in time and space; yet this does
not alter the fact that beings totally lacking such ends can scarcely be
described as human; still less as rational. In this sense, then, pursuit of, or
failure to pursue, certain ends can be regarded as evidence of – and in extreme
cases part of the definition of – irrationality. Although in general I agree
with Oppenheim, if my example is valid, it is incompatible with the general
proposition which I take to be the basis of his view of the relation of facts
to ends, descriptive judgements to those of values; it would demand a radical
modification of this view. I do not, of course, wish to claim any originality
for my position (which owes as much to Aristotle as to Kant), only validity.Grices
implicature is that rationalism and axiology are incompatible, and he wants to
cancel that! So the keyword here is rationalistic axiology, in the neo-Kantian
continental vein, with a vengeance! Grice arrives at value (optimum, deeming)
via Peirces meaning. But then theres the truth-value. The sorry story, as
Grice calls it, of Deontic logic faces Jørgensens dilemma. Jørgensens
dilemma is best seen as a trilemma, Grice says. The following three claims
are incompatible: An inference requires that each element (the premise and
the conclusion) has what Boole, Peirce, and Frege call a truth value.But an
imperative dos not have a truth-value. It is alleged that there may be an
inference between this or that imperative. Responses to this problem
involve rejecting one of the three premises. The input-output logics
reject the first premise. They provide inference mechanism on elements
without presupposing that these elements have a truth
value. Alternatively, one can deny the second premise. One way to do
this is to distinguish between the buletic itself and a doxastic about
it. According to this response, only the doxastic about the buletic has a
satisfactory, indeed doxastically satisfactory, value. Finally, one can
deny the third premise. But this is to deny that there is a logic of
imperatives worth investigating. Grice preferred to define value =df.
satisfactoriness. Thus, .p can be 0 or 1, !p can be 0 or 1. The form of
the utterance will guide you as to how to read satisfactoriness, which is my
jargon for value applicable both to an indicative and an imperative. With
satisfactoriness, Grice offers a variant to Hofstadter and McKinseys
satisfaction. In their On the Logic of Imperatives, a syntax is elaborated for
the imperative mode, using satisfaction. We understand an imperative to be
satisfied (as The door is closed may also be said to be satisfied iff the door
is closed) iff what is commanded is the case. Thus the fiat Let the door be
closed! is satisfied if the door is closed. We shall thus refer to the
satisfaction of an imperative. According to Hofstadter and McKinsey, the
function is a satisfaction-function. This or that unary operator and this
or that dyadic operator become this or that satisfaction-function. As Grice puts it, an inferential rule, which
flat rationality is the capacity to apply, is not an arbitrary
rule. An inferential rule picks out this or that transitions of
acceptance in which transmission of the predicate satisfactory (buletic/doxastic) is
guaranteed or (in this or that non-deductive case) to be expected. As
Grice notes, since the sentential form will indicate what species of value is
involved, he uses the generic satisfactory. He imports into the object-language
the phrase It is buletically satisfactory that and It is doxastically
satisfactory that !p is buletically satisfactory just in case !p is buletically
satisfactory. ⊢p is doxastically satisfactory just in case ⊢ p
is doxastically satisfactory. As Grice introduces it is acceptable that
(with the syntactical provisions which he is using); on the buletic side, It is
acceptable that !p is doxastically satisfactory just in case !p is buletically
satisfactory is doxastically satisfactory. Grice goes on to provide this or that generic
or generalized versions of this or that satisfactoriness-functor,
using φ and ψ to represent sentences (in either mode). Using 1-b/d for satisfactory
and 0-b/d for unsatisfactory Grice stipulates. φ and ψ is 1-b/d just in
case φ 1-b/d and ψ is 1-b/d. φ or ψ is 1-b/d just in case one of
the pair, φ and ψ, is 1-b/d. if φ, ψ is satisfactory just in case either
φ is 0-b/d or ψ is 0-b/d. There are, however, a number of points to
be made. It is not fully clear to Grice just how strong the motivation would be
for introducing this or that mode-neutral connective ‒ co-ordinators
and, or, and sub-ordinator if ‒ nor whether, if this or that
connective is introduced, this or that restriction should not be imposed. The
problematic examples are be, of course, the mixed-mode ones (those in which one
clause is buletic and the other doxastic). Grice, an Austinian at heart, finds
it natural to look for guidance from ordinary language. The beast is filthy and
dont touch it (.p and ~!p) and The beast is filthy and I shant touch it (.p and
~!p) seem all right to Grice. But the commutated Dont touch the beast and it is
filthy (~!q and .p) seems dubious. Touch the beast and it will bite you (!p and
.q), while idiomatic, is not, at the implicatum level, a conjunction, nor a
genuine invitation to touch the beast. Smith is taking a bath or leave the
bath-room door open (.p or !q) is, perhaps, intelligible. But the commutated
Leave the bath-room door open or Smith is taking a bath (!q or .p) seems
considerably less so. It is perhaps worth noting that, in this or that
non-mixed case, satisfactoriness is specifiable as buletic satisfactoriness or
doxastic satisfactoriness. But, for this or that mixed case, no such
specification would be available unless we make a special case, as Grice does
in Method, for the buletic mode to be dominant over the doxastic mode. The
crunch comes, however, with NOT, or negation, one of the four possible unary
satisfactoriness-functor, which Grice has been carefully ignoring. not⊢p (~⊢p) might,
perhaps, be treated as satisfactoriness-functional/conditional equivalent to ⊢ not-p
(⊢~p). But what about not!p (~!p)? Should we
treat is as buletically-satisfactoriness-functionally/conditionally equivalent
to !notp (!~p)? And what do we say in a case like, perhaps, Let it be that I
now put my hand on my head (!p) or Let it be that my bicycle faces north (!p),
in which, at least on occasion, it seems to be that neither !p nor !~p is
either buletically satisfactory or buletically unsatisfactory? And what buletic
satisfactory value do we assign to ~!p (how do we now introduce not?) and to
~!~p (how do we go on to eliminate not)? Do we proscribe this or that form
altogether, for every cases? But that would seem to be a pity, since ~ ! ~p
seems to be quite promising as a representation for you may (permissive) do
alpha that satisfies p; i.e., the utterer explicitly conveys his refusal to
prohibit his addressee A doing alpha. Do we disallow embedding of (or
iterating) this or that form? But that (again if we use ~!p and ~!~p to
represent may) seems too restrictive. Again, if !p is neither buletically
satisfactory nor buletically unsatisfactory (the utterer could care less) do we
assign a value other than 1 or 0 to !p (buletically neuter, 0.5). Or do we say,
echoing Quine, that we have a buletically satisfactoriness value gap? These and
other such problems would require careful consideration. Yet Grice cannot see that
those problems would prove insoluble, any more than this or that analogous
problem connected with Strawsons presupposition (Dont arrest the intruder!) are
insoluble. In Strawsons case, the difficulty is not so much to find a solution
as to select the best solution from those which present themselves. Grice takes
up the topic of a calculus in connection with the introduction rule and the
elimination rule of a modal such as must. We might hope to find, for each
member of a certain family of modalities, an introduction rule and an
elimination rule which would be analogous to the rules available for classical
logical constants. Suggestions are not hard to come by. Let us suppose that we
are seeking to provide such a pair of rules for the particular modality of necessity
‒ necessary (□). For an introduction rule (□, +) Grice considers the following
(Grice thinks equivalent) forms: if φ is demonstrable, □φ is demonstrable. Provided φ is dependent on
no assumptions, derive φ from □φ . For
an elimination rule (□,
-), Grice
considers From □φ derive φ. It is to be
understood, of course, that the values of the syntactical variable φ would
contain either a buletic or a doxastic mode markers. Both !p and .p would be
proper substitutes for φ but p would not. Grice wonders: [W]hat should be said
of Takeuti’s conjecture (roughly) that the nature of the introduction rule
determines the character of the elimination rule? There seems to be no
particular problem about allowing an introduction rule which tells us that, if
it is established in P’s personalised system that φ, it is necessary, with
respect to P, that φ is doxastically satisfactory (establishable). The
accompanying elimination rule is, however, slightly less promising. If we
suppose such a rule to tell us that, if one is committed to the idea that it is
necessary, with respect to P, that φ, one is also committed to whatever is
expressed by φ, we shall be in trouble. For such a rule is not acceptable. φ
will be a buletic expression such as Let it be that Smith eats his hat. And my
commitment to the idea that Smiths system requires him to eat his hat does not
ipso facto involve me in accepting (volitively) Let Smith eat his hat. But if
we take the elimination rule rather as telling us that, if it is necessary,
with respect to X, that let X eat his hat, then let X eat his hat possesses
satisfactoriness-with-respect-to-X, the situation is easier. For this
person-relativised version of the rule seems inoffensive, even for Takeuti, we
hope. Grice, following Mackie, uses absolutism, as opposed to relativism, which
denies the rational basis to attitude ascriptions (but cf. Hare on Subjectsivism).
Grice is concerned with the absence of a thorough discussion of value by
English philosophers, other than Hare (and he is only responding to Mackie!).
Continental philosophers, by comparison, have a special discipline, axiology,
for it! Similarly, a continental-oriented tradition Grice finds in The New
World in philosophers of a pragmatist bent, such as Carus. Grice wants to
say that rationality is a value, because it is a faculty that a creature
(human) displays to adapt and survive to his changing environments. The
implicature of the title is that values have been considered in the English
philosophical tradition, almost alla Nietzsche, to belong to the realm
irrational. Grice grants that axiological implicatum rests on a PRE-rational
propension.
AKRASIA: Aristotle
investigates two character traits, continence and incontinence, that are not as
blameworthy as the vices but not as praiseworthy as the virtues. The Grecian
expressions are’enkrateia,’ continence, literally mastery, and krasia (“incontinence”;
literally, lack of mastery. An akratic person goes against reason as a result
of some pathos (emotion, feeling”). Like the akratic, an enkratic person
experiences a feeling that is contrary to reason; but unlike the akratic, he
acts in accordance with reason. His defect consists solely in the fact that,
more than most people, he experiences passions that conflict with his rational
choice. The akratic person has not only this defect, but has the further flaw
that he gives in to feeling rather than reason more often than the average
person. Aristotle distinguishes two
kinds of akrasia: “propeteia,” or impetuosity and “astheneia, or weakness. The
person who is weak goes through a process of deliberation and makes a choice;
but rather than act in accordance with his reasoned choice, he acts under the
influence of a passion. By contrast, the impetuous person does not go through a
process of deliberation and does not make a reasoned choice; he simply acts
under the influence of a passion. At the time of action, the impetuous person
experiences no internal conflict. But once his act has been completed, he
regrets what he has done. One could say that he deliberates, if deliberation
were something that post-dated rather than preceded action; but the thought
process he goes through after he acts comes too late to save him from
error. It is important to bear in mind
that when Aristotle talks about impetuosity and weakness, he is discussing
chronic conditions. The impetuous person is someone who acts emotionally and
fails to deliberate not just once or twice but with some frequency; he makes
this error more than most people do. Because of this pattern in his actions, we
would be justified in saying of the impetuous person that had his passions not
prevented him from doing so, he would have deliberated and chosen an action
different from the one he did perform.
The two kinds of passions that Aristotle focuses on, in his treatment of
akrasia, are the appetite for pleasure and anger. Either can lead to
impetuosity and weakness. But Aristotle gives pride of place to the appetite
for pleasure as the passion that undermines reason. He calls the kind of
akrasia caused by an appetite for pleasure (hedone) “unqualified akrasia”—or,
as we might say, akrasia simpliciter, “full stop.’ Akrasia caused by anger he
considers a qualified form of akrasia and calls it akrasia ‘with respect to
anger.’ We thus have these four forms of akrasia: impetuosity caused by pleasure,
impetuosity caused by anger, weakness caused by pleasure, weakness caused by
anger. It should be noticed that Aristotle’s treatment of akrasia is heavily
influenced by Plato’s tripartite division of the soul. Plato holds that either
the spirited part (which houses anger, as well as other emotions) or the
appetitive part (which houses the desire for physical pleasures) can disrupt
the dictates of reason and result in action contrary to reason. The same
threefold division of the soul can be seen in Aristotles approach to this
topic. Although Aristotle characterizes akrasia and enkrateia in terms of a
conflict between reason and feeling, his detailed analysis of these states of
mind shows that what takes place is best described in a more complicated way. For
the feeling that undermines reason contains some thought, which may be
implicitly general. As Aristotle says, anger “reasoning as it were that one
must fight against such a thing, is immediately provoked. And although in the
next sentence he denies that our appetite for pleasure works in this way, he
earlier had said that there can be a syllogism that favors pursuing enjoyment:
“Everything sweet is pleasant, and this is sweet” leads to the pursuit of a particular
pleasure. Perhaps what he has in mind is that pleasure can operate in either
way: it can prompt action unmediated by a general premise, or it can prompt us
to act on such a syllogism. By contrast, anger always moves us by presenting
itself as a bit of general, although hasty, reasoning. But of course Aristotle does not mean that a
conflicted person has more than one faculty of reason. Rather his idea seems to
be that in addition to our full-fledged reasoning capacity, we also have
psychological mechanisms that are capable of a limited range of reasoning. When
feeling conflicts with reason, what occurs is better described as a fight
between feeling-allied-with-limited-reasoning and full-fledged reason. Part of
us—reason—can remove itself from the distorting influence of feeling and
consider all relevant factors, positive and negative. But another part of
us—feeling or emotion—has a more limited field of reasoning—and sometimes it
does not even make use of it. Although
“passion” is sometimes used as a translation of Aristotles word pathos (other
alternatives are emotion” and feeling), it is important to bear in mind that
his term does not necessarily designate a strong psychological force. Anger is
a pathos whether it is weak or strong; so too is the appetite for bodily
pleasures. And he clearly indicates that it is possible for an akratic person
to be defeated by a weak pathos—the kind that most people would easily be able
to control. So the general explanation for the occurrence of akrasia cannot be
that the strength of a passion overwhelms reason. Aristotle should therefore be
acquitted of an accusation made against him by Austin in a well-known footnote
to ‘A Plea For Excuses.’ Plato and Aristotle, Austin says, collapsed all
succumbing to temptation into losing control of ourselves — a mistake illustrated
by this example. I am very partial to ice cream, and a bombe is served divided
into segments corresponding one to one with the persons at High Table. I am
tempted to help myself to two segments and do so, thus succumbing to temptation
and even conceivably (but why necessarily?) going against my principles. But do
I lose control of myself? Do I raven, do I snatch the morsels from the dish and
wolf them down, impervious to the consternation of my colleagues? Not a bit of
it. We often succumb to temptation with calm and even with finesse. With this,
Aristotle can agree. The pathos for the bombe can be a weak one, and in some
people that will be enough to get them to act in a way that is disapproved by
their reason at the very time of action.
What is most remarkable about Aristotle’s discussion of akrasia is that
he defends a position close to that of Socrates. When he first introduces the
topic of akrasia, and surveys some of the problems involved in understanding
this phenomenon, he says that Socrates held that there is no akrasia, and he
describes this as a thesis that clearly conflicts with the appearances
(phainomena). Since he says that his goal is to preserve as many of the appearances
as possible, it may come as a surprise that when he analyzes the conflict
between reason and feeling, he arrives at the conclusion that in a way Socrates
was right after all. For, he says, the person who acts against reason does not
have what is thought to be unqualified knowledge; in a way he has knowledge,
but in a way does not. Aristotle
explains what he has in mind by comparing akrasia to the condition of other
people who might be described as knowing in a way, but not in an unqualified
way. His examples are people who are asleep, mad, or drunk; he also compares the
akratic to a student who has just begun to learn a Subjects, or an actor on the
stage. All of these people, he says, can utter the very words used by those who
have knowledge; but their talk does not prove that they really have knowledge,
strictly speaking. These analogies can
be taken to mean that the form of akrasia that Aristotle calls weakness rather
than impetuosity always results from some diminution of cognitive or
intellectual acuity at the moment of action. The akratic says, at the time of
action, that he ought not to indulge in this particular pleasure at this time.
But does he know or even believe that he should refrain? Aristotle might be
taken to reply: yes and no. He has some degree of recognition that he must not
do this now, but not full recognition. His feeling, even if it is weak, has to
some degree prevented him from completely grasping or affirming the point that
he should not do this. And so in a way Socrates was right. When reason remains
unimpaired and unclouded, its dictates will carry us all the way to action, so
long as we are able to act. But
Aristotles agreement with Socrates is only partial, because he insists on the
power of the emotions to rival, weaken or bypass reason. Emotion challenges
reason in all three of these ways. In both the akratic and the enkratic, it
competes with reason for control over action; even when reason wins, it faces
the difficult task of having to struggle with an internal rival. Second, in the
akratic, it temporarily robs reason of its full acuity, thus handicapping it as
a competitor. It is not merely a rival force, in these cases; it is a force
that keeps reason from fully exercising its power. And third, passion can make
someone impetuous; here its victory over reason is so powerful that the latter
does not even enter into the arena of conscious reflection until it is too late
to influence action. That, at any rate, is one way of interpreting Aristotle’s
statements. But it must be admitted that his remarks are obscure and leave room
for alternative readings. It is possible that when he denies that the akratic
has knowledge in the strict sense, he is simply insisting on the point that no
one should be classified as having practical knowledge unless he actually acts
in accordance with it. A practical knower is not someone who merely has
knowledge of general premises; he must also have knowledge of particulars, and
he must actually draw the conclusion of the syllogism. Perhaps drawing such a
conclusion consists in nothing less than performing the action called for by
the major and minor premises. Since this is something the akratic does not do,
he lacks knowledge; his ignorance is constituted by his error in action. On
this reading, there is no basis for attributing to Aristotle the thesis that
the kind of akrasia he calls weakness is caused by a diminution of intellectual
acuity. His explanation of akrasia is simply that pathos is sometimes a
stronger motivational force than full-fledged reason. This is a difficult reading to defend,
however, for Aristotle says that after someone experiences a bout of akrasia
his ignorance is dissolved and he becomes a knower again. In context, that
appears to be a remark about the form of akrasia Aristotle calls weakness
rather than impetuosity. If so, he is saying that when an akratic person is Subjects
to two conflicting influences—full-fledged reason versus the minimal
rationality of emotion—his state of knowledge is somehow temporarily undone but
is later restored. Here, knowledge cannot be constituted by the performance of
an act, because that is not the sort of thing that can be restored at a later
time. What can be restored is ones full recognition or affirmation of the fact
that this act has a certain undesirable feature, or that it should not be
performed. Aristotle’s analysis seems to be that both forms of akrasia — weakness
and impetuosity —share a common structure: in each case, ones full affirmation
or grasp of what one should do comes too late. The difference is that in the
case of weakness but not impetuosity, the akratic act is preceded by a
full-fledged rational cognition of what one should do right now. That
recognition is briefly and temporarily diminished by the onset of a less than
fully rational affect. There is one
other way in which Aristotle’s treatment of akrasia is close to the Socratic
thesis that what people call akrasia is really ignorance. Aristotle holds that
if one is in the special mental condition that he calls practical wisdom, then
one cannot be, nor will one ever become, an akratic person. For practical
wisdom is present only in those who also possess the ethical virtues, and these
qualities require complete emotional mastery. Anger and appetite are fully in
harmony with reason, if one is practically wise, and so this intellectual
virtue is incompatible with the sort of inner conflict experienced by the
akratic person. Furthermore, one is called practically wise not merely on the
basis of what one believes or knows, but also on the basis of what one does.
Therefore, the sort of knowledge that is lost and regained during a bout of
akrasia cannot be called practical wisdom. It is knowledge only in a loose
sense. The ordinary persons low-level grasp of what to do is precisely the sort
of thing that can lose its acuity and motivating power, because it was never
much of an intellectual accomplishment to begin with. That is what Aristotle is
getting at when he compares it with the utterances of actors, students,
sleepers, drunks, and madmen. Grice had witnessed how Hare had suffere to try
and deal with how to combine the geniality that “The language of morals” is
with his account of akrasia. Most Oxonians were unhappy with Hares account of
akrasia. Its like, in deontic logic, you cannot actually deal with akrasia. You
need buletics. You need the desiderative, so that you can oppose what is
desired with the duty, even if both concepts are related. “Akrasia” has a nice
Grecian touch about it, and Grice and Hare, as Lit. Hum., rejoiced in being
able to explore what Aristotle had to say about it. They wouldnt go far beyond
Aristotle. Plato and Aristotle were the only Greek philosophers studied for the
Lit. Hum. To venture with the pre-socratics or the hellenistics (even if
Aristotle is one) was not classy enough! Like Pears in Motivated irrationality,
Grice allows that benevolentia may be deemed beneficentia. If Smith has the
good will to give Jones a job, he may be deemed to have given Jones the job,
even if Jones never get it. In buletic akrasia we must consider the conclusion
to be desiring what is not best for the agents own good, never mind if he
refrains from DOING what is not best for his own good. Video meliora proboque
deteriora sequor. We shouldnt be saying this, but we are saying it! Grice
prefers akrasia, but he is happy to use Ciceros translation, also negative, of
this: incontinentia, as if continentia were a virtue! For Grice, the alleged
paradox of akrasia, both alethic and practical, has to be accounted for by a
theory of rationality from the start, and not be deemed a stumbling block. Grice
is interested in both the common-or-garden buletic-boulomaic version of
akrasia, involving the volitive soul ‒ in term of desirability ‒ and
doxastic akrasia, involing the judicative soul proper ‒ in terms of
probability. Grice considers buletic akrasia and doxastic akrasia ‒ the latter
yet distinct from Moores paradox, p but I dont want to believe that p, in
symbols p and ~ψb-dp.
AXIOLOGY: While Grice could play with “the good” in the New World,
as a Lit. Hum. he knew he had to be slightly more serious. The good is one of
the values, but what is valuing? Would the New Worlders understand valuing
unattached to the pragmatism that defines them? Grice starts by invoking Hume
on his bright side: the concept of value, versus the conception of value. Or
rather, how the concept of value derives from the conception of value. A
distinction that would even please Aquinas (conceptum/conceptio), and the
Humeian routine. Some background for his third Carus lecture. He tries to find
out what Mackie means when he says that a value is ultimately Subjectsive. What
about inter-Subjectsive, and constructively objective? Grice constructs
absolute value out of relative value. But once a rational pirot constructs
value, the pirot assigns absolute status to rationality qua value. The pirot
cannot then choose not to be rational at the risk of ceasing to exist (qua
person, or essentially rationally human agent). A human, as opposed to a
person, assigns relative value to his rationality. A human is accidentally
rational. A person is necessarily so. A distinction seldom made by Aristotle and
some of his dumbest followers obsessed with the modal-free adage, Homo
rationale animal. hūmānus (old form: hemona humana et hemonem hominem
dicebant, Paul. ex Fest. p. 100 Müll.; cf. homo I.init.), a, um, adj. homo, of
or belonging to man, human. Grice considers the etymology of ‘person,’
from ‘persōna,’ from, according to Gabius Bassus ap. Gell. 5, 7, 1 sq., from ‘per-sŏno,’
to sound through, with the second syllable lengthened.’ Falsa est (finitio), si
dicas, Equus est animal rationale: nam est equus animal, sed irrationale,
Quint.7,3,24:homo est animal rationale, id. 5, 10, 56; cf. id. 5, 8, 7; and:
nec si mutis finis voluptas, rationalibus quoque: quin immo ex contrario, quia
mutis, ideo non rationalibus, id. 5, 11, 35; so without a subst.:a rationali ad
rationale (translatio), id.8,6,13. τὸ λογικόν ζῷον ‒ τὸ λ. ζῷον ChrysiStoic.3.95;
ἀρεταὶ λ., = διανοητικαί, oἠθικαί, Arist. EN1108b9.λογικός, ή, όν, (λόγος),
ζῶον λόγον ἔχον NE, 1098a3-5. λόγον δὲ μόνον ἄνθρωπος ἔχει τῶν ζῴων, man alone
of all animals possesses speech, from the Politics! Grice took Hartmanns
stratification of values much more seriously than Barnes!
AXIOLOGY: With rational motivation, Grice is playing. He means it
seriously. The motivation is the psychological bite, but since its qualified by
rational, it corresponds to the higher more powerful bit of the soul, the
rational soul. There are, for Grice, the Grecians, Kantotle and Plathegel,
three souls: the vegetal, the animal, and the rational. As a matter of history,
Grice reaches value (in its guises of optimum and deeming) via his analysis of
Peirces meaning. Many notions are value-paradeigmatic. The most important
of all philosophical notions, that of rationality, presupposes objective value
as one of its motivations. For Grice, ratio can be understood cognoscendi
but also essendi. Rational motivation involves both types of ratio. While
it is practical to restore axis for Grices value, its not easy to find
Grecianisms for absolute (L. absolutus, from absolvere, In rhet. lang.,
unrestricted, unconditional, absolute hoc mihi videor videre, esse quasdam cum
adjunctione necessitudines, quasdam simplices et absolutas, Cic. Inv. 2, 57,
170. objective (L. objectum, from obicio ‒ objectus , ūs, m.
obicio, I. a casting before, a putting against, in the way, or opposite, an
opposing; or, neutr., a lying before or opposite (mostly poet. and in postAug.
prose): dare objectum parmaï, the opposing of the shield, Lucr. 4, 847: vestis,
Col. 3, 19: insula portum Efficit objectu laterum, by the opposition, Verg.
A.1,160:cum terga flumine, latera objectu paludis tegerentur, Tac. H. 3,9:
molis, id.ib.5,14:regiones, quæ Tauri montis objectu separantur, Gell. 12, 13,
27: solem interventu lunæ occultari, lunamque terræ objectu, the interposition,
Plin. 2, 10, 7, § 47; cf.: eademque (terra) objectu suo umbram noctemque
efficiat, Cic. Fragm. ap. Non. 243, 13 dub. (al. objecta soli): hi molium
objectus (i. e. moles objectas) scandere, the projection, Tac. A. 14, 8. II.
Transf., that which presents itself to the sight, an object, appearance, sight,
spectacle, Nep. Hann. 5, 2 (al. objecto)) and if not categoric. (This is
analogous to Grices overuse of psychoLOGICAL when he just means souly. It
is perhaps his use of psychological for souly that leads to take any souly
concept as a theoretical concept within a folksy psychoLOGICAL
theory. Grice considered the stratification of values, alla Hartmann,
unlike Barnes, who dismissed him in five minutes.
AXIOLOGY: “Some like
Philippa Foot, but Hares MY man,” Grice would say. “Virtue” ethics was becoming
all the fashion, especially around Somerville. Hare was getting irritated by
the worse offender, his Anglo-Welsh tutee, originally with a degree from the
OTHER place, Williams! Enough for Grice to want to lecture on value, and using
Carus as an excuse! Mackie was what Oxonians called a colonial, and a clever
one! In fact, Grice quotes from Hares contribution to a volume on Mackie. Hares
and Mackies backgrounds could not be more different. Like Grice, Hare was a
Lit. Hum., and like Grice, Hare loved the Grundlegung. But unlike Grice and Barnes,
Hare would have nothing to say about Stevenson. Philosophers in Grices play
group never took Ayers critique of emotivism seriously. Stevenson was the
thing! Vide Urmson on the emotive theory of ethics, tracing it to English
philosphers like OgdenW. F. H. Barnes, and Duncan-Jones. Barnes was opposing
both Prichard (who was the Whites professor of moral philosophy – and more of
an interest than Moore was, seeing that Prichard was Barness tutor at Corpus)
and Hartmann. Ryle would have nothing to do with Hartmann, but these were the
days BEFORE Ryle took over Oxford, and forbade any reference to a continental
philosopher, -- even worse if a “Hun”! Grice reaches the notion of value
through that of meaning. If Peirce was simplistic, Grice aint! But his
ultra-sophisticated analysis ends up being deemed to hold in this or that
utterer. And deeming is valuing, as is optimum. While Grice rarely used
axiology, he should! A set of three lectures, which are individually
identified below. I love Carus! Grice was undecided as to what his Paul Carus
lectures were be on. He explores meaning under its value optimality guise
in Meaning revisited. Grice thinks that a value-paradeigmatic notion
allows him to respond in a more apt way to what some critics were raising as a
possible vicious circle in his approach to semantic and psychological
notions. The Carus lectures are then dedicated to the construction, alla
Hume, of a value-paradeigmatic notion in general, and value itself. Grice
starts by quoting Austin and Mackie, of Oxford. The lectures are intended
to a general audience, provided it is a philosophical general audience. Most of
the second lecture is Grices subtle exploration of Kants categorical
imperative, with which he had struggled in the last John Locke lecture on
aspects of reasoning, notably the reduction of the categorical imperative to
this or that counsel of prudence with an implicated protasis to the effect that
the agent is aiming at eudæmonia. The three Paul Carus
Lectures, Objectivity and value, Relative and absolute value, and Met. and value. There were three Paul Carus
lectures. The first lecture, Objectivity and value, is a review of Mackies
Inventing right and wrong; the second lecture, Relative and absolute
value, is an exploration on the categorical imperative, and its connection with
a prior hypothetical or suppositional imperative; the third
lecture, Met. and value, is a metaphysical
defence of absolute value. The collective citation should be identified by each
lecture separately, and this is done below.
OBJECTIVISM: Grice had read
Meinong on objectivity and found it funny! Meinong distinguishes four classes
of objects: ‘Objekt,’ simpliciter, which can be real (like horses) or ideal
(like the concepts of difference, identity, etc.) and “Objectiv,” e.g. the
affirmation of the being (Sein) or non-being (Nichtsein), of a being-such
(Sosein), or a being-with (Mitsein) - parallel to existential, categorical and
hypothetical judgements. Am “Objectiv” is close to what contemporary
philosophers call states of affairs (where these may be actual—may
"obtain"—or not). The third class is the "Dignitative",
e.g. the true, the good, the beautiful. Finally, there is the "Desiderative",
e.g. duties, ends, etc. To these four classes of objects correspond four
classes of psychological acts:
(re)presentation (das Vorstellen), for objects thought (das Denken), for
the objectives feeling (das Fühlen), for dignitatives desire (das Begehren),
for the desideratives. Grice starts with Subjectsivity. Objectivity can be
constructed as non-relativised Subjectsivity. A discussion of Mackies
Inventing right and wrong. In the proceedings, Grice quotes the
artless sexism of Austin in talking about the trouser words in Sense and
Sensibilia. Grice tackles all the distinctions Mackie had played with:
objective/Subjectsive, absolute/relative, categorical/hypothetical or
suppositional. Grice quotes directly from Hare: Think of one world into whose
fabric values are objectively built; and think of another in which those values
have been annihilated. And remember that in both worlds the people in them go
on being concerned about the same things—there is no difference in the Subjectsive
value. Now I ask, what is the difference between the states of affairs in these
two worlds? Can any answer be given except, none whatever? Grice uses the
Latinate objective (from objectum). Cf. Hare on what he thinks the oxymoronic
sub-jective value. Grice considered more seriously than Barnes did the
systematics behind Nicolai Hartmanns stratification of values.
CATEGORICAL IMPERATIVE: An exploration on Paton on the categorical
imperative. Grice had previously explored the logical form of hypothetical
or suppositional imperatives in the Kant (and later Locke) lectures,
notably in Lecture IV, Further remarks on practical and alethic reasons.
Here he considers topics related to Hares tropic-clistic neustic-phrastic
quartet. What does it mean to say that a command is conditional? The two
successors of Grices post as Tutorial Fellow at St. Johns, Baker Hacker,
will tackle the same issue with humour, in Sense and nonsense, published by
Blackwell (too irreverent to be published by the Clarendon). Is the
logical form of a maxim, .p⊃!q,
or !(.p ⊃.q), etc. Kant thought that there is a special sub-class of
hypothetical or suppositional imperative (which he called a counsels
of prudence) which is like his class of technical imperative, except in that
the end specified in a full specfication of the imperative is the special end
of eudæmonia (the agents eudæmonia). For Grice, understanding Kant’s first
version of the categorical imperative involves understanding what a maxim is
supposed to be. Grice explores at some length four alternative interpretations of an
iffy buletic (as opposed to a non-iffy buletic): three formal, one material.
The first interpretation is the horseshoe interpretation. A blind logical
nose might lead us or be led to the assumption of a link between a
buletically iffy utterance and a doxastically iffy utterance. Such a link
no doubt exists, but the most obvious version of it is plainly
inadequate. At least one other philosopher besides Grice has noticed that If he
torments the cat, have him arrested! is unlikely to express an
buletically iffy utterance, and that even if one restricts oneself to
this or that case in which the protasis specifies a will, we find pairs of
examples like If you will to go to Oxford, travel by AA via Richmond! or
If you will to go to Cambridge, see a psychiatrist! where it is plain that one
is, and the other is not, the expression of a buletically iffy utterance. For
fun, Grice does not tell which! A less easily eliminable suggestion, yet one
which would still interprets the notion of a buletically iffy utterance in
terms of that particular logical form to which if, hypothetical or
suppositional and conditional attach,
would be the following. Let us assume that it is established, or conceded, as
legitimate to formulate an if utterance in which not only the apodosis is
couched in some mode other than the doxastic, as in this or that conditional
command. If you see the whites of their eyes, shoot fire! but also the protasis
or some part (clause) of them. In which case all of the following might be
admissible conditionals. Thus, we might have a doxastic protasis (If the cat is
sick, take it to the vet), or a mixed (buletic-cum-doxastic protasis (If you
are to take the cat to the vet and theres no cage available, put it on Marthas
lap!), and buletic protasis (If you are to take the cat to the vet, put it in a
cage!). If this suggestion seems rebarbative, think of this or that quaint if
utterance (when it is quaint) as conditionalised versions of this or that
therefore-sequence, such as: buletic-cum-doxastic premises (Take the cat
to the vet! There isnt a cage. Therefore; Put the cat on Marthas lap!), buletic
premise (Take the cat to the vet! Put it in a cage!). And then, maybe, the
discomfort is reduced. Grice next considers a second formal interpretation or
approach to the buletically iffy/non-iffy utterance. Among if utterances with a
buletic apodosis some will have, then, a mixed doxastic-cum buletic protasis
(partly doxastic, partly buletic), and some will have a purely doxastic
protasis (If the cat is sick, take him to the vet!). Grice proposes a
definition of the iffy/non-iffy distinction. A buletically iffy utterance is an
iffy utterance the apodosis of which is buletic and the protasis of which is
buletic or mixed (buletic-cum-dxastic) or it is an elliptical version of such
an iffy utterance. A buletically non-iffy utterance is a buletic utterance
which is not iffy or else, if it is iffy, has a purely doxastic protasis. Grice
makes three quick comments on this second interpretation. First, re: a real
imperative. The structures which are being offered as a way of interpreting an
iffy and a non-iffy imperative do not, as they stand, offer any room for
the appearance this or that buletic modality like ought and should which are so
prominently visible in the standard examples of those kinds of imperatives. The
imperatives suggested by Grice are explicit imperatives. An explicit buletic
utterance is Do such-and-such! and not You ought to do such and such or, worse,
One ought to do such and such. Grice thinks, however, that one can modify this
suggestion to meet the demand for the appearance or occurrence of ought (etc)
if such occurrence is needed. Second, it would remain to be decided how close
the preferred reading of Grices deviant conditional imperatives would be to the
accepted interpretation of standard hypothetical or
suppositional imperatives. But even if there were some divergence that
might be acceptable if the new interpretation turns out to embody a more
precise notion than the standard conception. Then theres the neustical versus
tropical protases. There are, Grice thinks, serious doubts of the admissibility
of conditionals with a NON-doxastic protasis, which are for Grice connected
with the very difficult question whether the doxastic and the buletic modes are
co-ordinate or whether the doxastic mode is in some crucial fashion (but
not in other) prior (to use Suppess qualification) to the buletic. Grice
confesses he does not know the answer to that question. A third formal interpretation links
the iffy/non-iffy distinction to the absolute-relative value distinction. An
iffy imperatives would be end-relative and might be analogous
to an evidence-relative probability. A non-iffy imperatives would not
be end-relative. Finally, a fourth Interpretation is not formal, but
material. This is close to part of what Kant says on the topic. It is a
distinction between an imperative being escapable (iffy), through the
absence of a particular will and its not being escapable (non-iffy). If
we understand the idea of escabability sufficiently widely, the
following imperatives are all escapable, even though their logical form is
not in every case the same: Give up popcorn!, To get slim, give up
popcorn!, If you will to get slim, give up popcorn! Suppose Grice has no
will to get slim. One might say that the first imperative (Give up
popcorn!) is escaped, provided giving up popcorn has nothing else
to recommend it, by falsifying You should give up popcorn. The
second and the third imperatives (To get slim, give up pocorn! and If
you will to get slim, give up popcorn!) would not, perhaps, involve
falsification but they would, in the circumstances, be inapplicable
to Grice – and inapplicability, too, counts, as escape. A non-iffy
imperative however, is in no way escapable. Re: the Dynamics of
Imperatives in Discourse, Grice then gives three examples which he had
discussed in Aspects of Reason, which concern arguments (or therefore-chains).
This we may see as an elucidation to grasp the logical form of buletically
iffy utterance (elided by the therefore, which is an if in the metalanguage)
in its dynamics in argumentation. We should, Grice suggests,
consider not merely imperatives of each sort, together with the range
of possible characterisations, but also the possible forms of argument into
which_particular_ hypothetical or suppositional imperatives might enter.
Consider: Defend the Philosophy Department! If you are to defend the
philosophy department, learn to use bows and arrows! Therefore, learn to use
bows and arrows! Grice says he is using the dichotomy of original-derived
value. In this example, in the first premise, it is not specified whether the
will is original or derived, the second premise specifies conducive to (means),
and the conclusion would involve a derived will, provided the second premise is
doxastically satisfactory. Another example would be: Fight for your country! If
youre to fight for your country, join up (one of the services)! Therefore, join
up! Here, the first premise and the conclusion do not specify the protasis. If
the conclusion did, it would repeat the second premise. Then theres Increase
your holdings in oil shares! If you visit your father, hell give you some oil
shares. Therefore, visit your father! This argument (purportedly) transmits
value. Let us explore these characterisations by Grice with the aid of
Hares distinctions. For Hare in a hypothetical or suppositional imperative, the
protasis contains a neustic-cum-tropic. A distinction may be made between this
or that hypothetical or suppositional imperative and a term used by Grice
in his first interpretation of the hypothetical or suppositional
imperative, that of conditional command (If you see the whites of their
eyes, shoot fire!). A hypothetical or suppositional imperative can
be distinguished from a conditional imperative (If you want to make bread,
use yeast!, If you see anything suspicious, telephone the police!) by the
fact that modus ponens is not valid for it. One may use hypothetical,
suppositional or conditional imperative for a buletic utterance which features
if, and reserve conditional command for a command which is expressed by an
imperative, and which is conditional on the satisfaction of the protasis.
Thus, on this view, treating the major premise of an argument as a hypothetical
or suppositional imperative turns the therefore-chain invalid. Consider the
sequence with the major premise as a hypothetical or suppositional imperative.
If you will to make someone mad, give him drug D! You will to make
Peter mad; therefore, give Peter drug D! By uttering this hypothetical or
suppositional imperative, the utterer tells his addressee A only
what means to adopt to achieve a given end in a way which does
not necessarily endorse the adoption of that end, and hence of the
means to it. Someone might similarly say, If you will to make someone
mad, give him drug D! But, of course, even if you will to do that, you
must not try to do so. On the other hand, the following is arguably
valid because the major premise is a conditional imperative and
not a mere hypothetical or suppositional one. We have a case of major
premise as a conditional imperative: You will to make someone mad, give him
drug D! Make Peter mad! Therefore, give Peter drug D!. We can explain
this in terms of the presence of the neustic in the antecedent of the
imperative working as the major premise. The supposition that
the protasis of a hypothetical or suppositional imperative contains a clause in
the buletic mode neatly explains why the argument with the major
premise as a hypothetical or suppositional imperative is not valid.
But the argument with the major premise as a conditional imperative is, as
well as helping to differentiate a suppositional or hypothetical or
suppositional iffy imperative from a conditional iffy imperative. For, if the
protasis of the major premise in the hypothetical or suppositional imperative
is volitival, the mere fact that you will to make Peter mad does
not license the inference of the imperative to give him the
drug; but this _can_ be inferred from the major premise of
the hypothetical or suppositional imperative together with an
imperative, the minor premise in the conditional
imperative, to make Peter mad. Whether the subordinate
clause contains a neustic thus does have have a consequence as
to the validity of inferences into which the complex sentence
enters. Then theres an alleged principle of mode constancy in buletic and
and doxastic inference. One may tries to elucidate Grices ideas on the
logical form of the hypothetical or suppositional imperative proper.
His suggestion is, admittedly, rather tentative. But it might be
argued, in the spirit of it, that an iffy imperative is of the
form ((!p⊃!q) Λ .p)) ∴ !q But this violates a principle of mode
constancy. A phrastic must remain in the same mode (within the scope
of the same tropic) throughout an argument. A conditional imperative does
not violate the principle of Modal Constancy, since it is of the form
((p⊃!q) Λ !p)) ∴ !q The question of the logical form of
the hypothetical or suppositional imperative is
too obscure to base much on arguments concerning it. There is an
alternative to Grices account of the validity of an argument featuring a conditional
imperative. This is to treat the major premise of a conditional
imperative, as some have urged it should be as a doxastic utterance tantamount
to In order to make someone mad, you have to give him drug D. Then an
utterer who explicitly conveys or asserts the major premise of a conditional
imperative and commands the second premise is in consistency committed to
commanding the conclusion. If does not always connect phrastic with
phrastic but sometimes connects two expressions consisting of a phrastic
and a tropic. Consider: If you walk past the post office, post the
letter! The antecedent of this imperative states, it seems, the
condition under which the imperative expressed becomes operative,
and so can not be construed buletically, since by uttering a buletic
utterance, an utterer cannot explicitly convey or assert that a condition
obtains. Hence, the protasis ought not be within the scope of the
buletic !, and whatever we take to represent the form of the
utterance above we must not take !(if p, q) to do so. One way out. On
certain interpretation of the isomorphism or æqui-vocality Thesis between
Indicative and Imperative Inference the utterance has to be construed
as an imperative (in the generic reading) to make the doxasatic
conditional If you will walk past the post office, you will post
the letter satisfactory. Leaving aside issues of the implicature of if,
that the utterance can not be so construed seems to be shown by
the fact that the imperative to make the associated doxastically iffy
utterance satisfactory is conformed with by one who does not walk past the
post office. But it seems strange at best to say that the utterance
is conformed with in the same circumstances. This strangeness or
bafflingliness, as Grice prefers, is aptly explained away in terms of the
implicatum. At Oxford, Dummett was endorsing this idea that a
conditional imperative be construed as an imperative to make an
indicative if utterance true. Dummett urges to divide conditional
imperatives into those whose antecedent is within the power of
the addressee, like the utterance in question, and those in which it
is not. Consider: If you go out, wear your coat! One may be not so much
concerned with how to escape this, as Grice is, but how to conform it. A child
may choose not to go out in order to comply with the imperative. For an
imperative whose protasis is_not_ within the power of the addressee (If anyone
tries to escape, shoot him!) it is indifferent whether we treat it as a
conditional imperative or not, so why bother. A small
caveat here. If no one tries to escape, the imperative is *not violated*.
One might ask, might there not be an important practical difference
bewteen saying that an imperative has not been violated and that
it has been complied with? Dummett ignores this distinction. One may
feel think there is much of a practical difference there. Is Grice
an intuitionist? Suppose that you are a frontier guard and
the antecedent has remained unfulfilled. Then, whether we say that you complied with
it, or simply did not *violate* it will make a great deal
of difference if you appear before a war crimes tribunal. For
Dummett, the fact that in the case of an imperative expressed by a conditional
imperative in which the antecedent is not within the agents power, we should
*not* say that the agent had obeyed just on the ground that the protassi is
false, is no ground for construing an imperative as expressing a
conditional command: for there is no question of fixing what shall
constitute obedience independently of the determination of what shall
constitute disobedience. This complicates the issues. One may with Grice (and
Hare, and Edgley) defend imperative inference against other Oxonian
philosophers, such as Kenny or Williams. What is questioned by the sceptics about imperative
inference is whether if each one of a set of imperatives is used with
the force of a command, one can infer a _further_ imperative with that
force from them. Cf. Wiggins on Aristotle on the practical syllogism. One
may be more conservative than Hare, if not Grice. Consider If you stand by
Jane, dont look at her! You stand by Jane; therefore, dont look at her! This is
valid. However, the following, obtained by anti-logism, is not: If you stand by
Jane, dont look at her! Look at her! Therefore, you dont stand by Jane. It may
seem more reasonable to some to deny Kants thesis, and maintain that
anti-logism is valid in imperative inference than it is to hold onto Kants
thesis and deny that antilogism is valid in the case in question. Then theres
the question of the implicata involved in the ordering of modes. Consider:
Varnish every piece of furniture you make! You are going to make a table;
therefore, varnish it! This is prima facie valid. The following, however,
switching the order of the modes in the premises is not. You are going to
varnish every piece of furniture that you make. Make a table! Therefore;
varnish it! The connection between the if and the therefore is metalinguistic,
obviously – the validity of the therefore chain is proved by the associated if
that takes the premise as, literally, the protasis and the consequence as the
apodosis. Conversational Implicature at the Rescue. Problems with
or: Consider Rosss infamous example: Post the letter! Therefore, post the
letter or burn it! as invalid, Ross 1944:38 – and endorsed at Oxford by
Williams. To permit to do p or q is to permit to do p and to permit to do
q. Similarly, to give permission to do something is to lift a prohibition
against doing it. Admittedly, Williams does not need this so we are
stating his claim more strongly than he does. One may review Grices way
out (defense of the validity of the utterance above in terms of the
implicatum. Grice claims that in Rosss infamous example (valid, for Grice),
whilst (to state it roughly) the premises permissive presupposition (to
use the rather clumsy term introduced by Williams) is entailed
by it, the conclusions is only *conversationally
implicated*. Typically for an isomorphist, Grice says this is
something shared by indicative inferences. If, being absent-minded,
Grice asks his wife, What have I done with the letter? and she replies, You
have posted it or burnt it, she conversationally implicates that she is not in
a position to say which Grice has done. She also conversationally implicates
that Grice may not have post it, so long as he has burnt it. Similarly, the
future tense indicative, You are going to post the letter has the
conversational implicature You may be not going to post the letter so long as
you are going to burn it. But this surely does not validate the
introduction rule for OR, to wit: p; therefore, p or q One can similarly,
say: Eclipse will win. He may not, of course, if it rains. And I *know* it will
*not* rain. Problems with and. Consider: Put on your parachute AND jump out!
Therefore, jump out! Someone who _only_ jumps out of an æroplane does not
fulfil Put on your parachute and jump out! He has done only what is
necessary, but not sufficient to fulfil it. Imperatives do not differ
from indicatives in this respect, except that fulfilment takes the place of
belief or doxa, which is the form of acceptance apprpriate to a doxasatic
utterance, as the Names implies. Someone who is told Smith put on his
parachute AND jumped out is entitled to believe that Smith jumped out. But
if he believes that this is _all_ Smith did he is in error (Cf. Edgley). One
may discuss Grices test of cancellability in the case of the transport officer
who says: Go via Coldstream or Berwick! It seems the transport officers way of
expressing himself is extremely eccentric, or conversationally baffling,
as Grice prefers – yet validly. If the transport officer is not sure if a
storm may block one of the routes, what he should say is _Prepare_ to go
via Coldstream or Berwick! As for the application of Grices test of explicit
cancellation here, it yield, in the circumstances, the transport officer
uttering Go either via Coldstream or Berwick! But you may not go via
Coldstream if you do not go via Berwick, and you may not go via Berwick if you
do not go via Coldstream. Such qualifications ‒ what Grice calls
explicit cancellation of the implicature ‒ seem to the addressee to
empty the buletic mode of utterance of all content and is thus reminiscent of
Henry Fords utterance to the effect that people can choose what colour car they
like provided it is black. But then Grice doesnt think Ford is being illogical,
only Griceian and implicatural!
AXIOLOGY: A metaphysical defence of absolute value. The topic
fascinates Grice, and he invents a few routines to cope with it. Humeian
projection rationally reconstructs the intuitive concept being of
value. Category shift allows to put a value such as Smiths
disinterestedness in grammatical Subjects position, thus avoiding to answer
that his disinterestedness is in the next room ‒ since it is not a
spatio-temporal continuan prote ousia as Smith is. But the most important
routine is that of trans-substantatio, or metousiosis. A human reconstructs as
a rational personal being, and alla Kantotle, whatever he judges is
therefore of absolute value. The issue involves for Grice the introduction
of a telos qua aition, causa finalis (final cause), role, or métier. The final
cause of a tiger is to tigerise, the final cause of a reasoner is to
reason, the final cause of a person is to personise. And this entails absolute
value, now metaphysically defended. The justification involves the ideas of
end-setting, unweighed rationality, autonomy, and freedom. In something
like a shopping list that Grice provides for issues on free. Attention to
freedom calls for formidably difficult undertakings including the search for a
justification for the adoption or abandonment of an ultimate end. The point is
to secure that freedom does not dissolve into compulsion or chance. Grice proposes
four items for this shopping list. A first point is that full action calls for
strong freedom. Here one has to be careful that since Grice abides by what he
calls the Modified Occams Razor in the third James lecture on Some remarks
about logic and conversation, he would not like to think of this two (strong
freedom and weak freedom) as being different senses of free. Again, his calls
for is best understood as presupposes. It may connect with, say, Kanes
full-blown examples of decisions in practical settings that call for or
presuppose libertarianism. A second point is that the buletic-doxastic
justification of action has to accomodate for the fact that we need freedom
which is strong. Strong or serious autonomy or freedom ensures that this or
that action is represented as directed to this or that end E which are is not
merely the agents, but which is also freely or autonomously adopted or pursued
by the agent. Grice discusses the case of the gym instructor commanding, Raise
your left arm! The serious point then involves this free adoption or free
pursuit. Note Grices use of this or that personal-identity pronoun: not merely
mine, i.e. not merely the agents, but in privileged-access position. This
connects with what Aristotle says of action as being up to me, and Kant’s idea
of the transcendental ego. An end is the agents in that the agent adopts
it with liberum arbitrium. This or that ground-level desire may be
circumstantial. A weak autonomy or freedom satisfactorily accounts for this or
that action as directed to an end which is mine. However, a strong autonomy or
freedom, and a strong autonomy or freedom only, accounts for this or that
action as directed to an end which is mine, but, unlike, say, some ground-level
circumstantial desire which may have sprung out of some circumstantial
adaptability to a given scenario, is, first, autonomously or freely adopted by
the agent, and, second, autonomously or freely pursued by the agent. The use of
the disjunctive particle or in the above is of some interest. An agent may
autonomously or freely adopt an end, yet not care to pursue it autonomously or
freely, even in this strong connotation that autonomous or free sometimes has.
A further point relates to causal indeterminacy. Any attempt to remedy this
situation by resorting to causal indeterminacy or chance will only infuriate
the scientist without aiding the philosopher. This remark by Grice has to be
understood casually. For, as it can be shown, this or that scientist may well
have resorted to precisely that introduction and in any case have not
self-infuriated. The professional tag that is connoted by philosopher should
also be seen as best implicated than entailed. A scientist who does resort to
the introduction of causal indeterminacy may be eo ipso be putting forward a
serious consideration regarding ethics or meta-ethics. In other words, a
cursory examination of the views of a scientist like Eddington, beloved by
Grice, or this or that moral philosopher like Kane should be born in mind when
considering this third point by Grice. Grices reference to chance, random, and
causal indeterminacy, should best be understood vis-à-vis Aristotles emphasis
on tykhe (fatum) to the effect that this or that event may just happen just by
accident, which may well open a can of worms for the naive Griceian, but surely
not the sophisticated one (cf. his remarks on accidentally, in Prolegomena). A
further item in Grices shopping list involves the idea of autonomous or free as
a value, or optimum. The specific character of what Grice has as strong
autonomy or freedom may well turn out to consist, Grice hopes, in the idea of
this or that action as the outcome of a certain kind of strong
valuation ‒ where this would include the rational selection, as per
e.g. rational-decision theory, of this or that ultimate end. What Grice
elsewhere calls out-weighed or extrinsically weighed rationality, where
rational includes the buletic, of the end and not the means to it. This or that
full human action calls for the presence of this or that reason, which require
that this or that full human action for which this or that reason accounts
should be the outcome of a strong rational valuation. Like a more
constructivist approach, this line suggests that this or that action may
require, besides strong autonomy or freedom, now also strong valuation. Grice
sets to consider how to adapt the buletic-doxastic soul progression to reach
these goals. In the case of this or that ultimate end E, justification should
be thought of as lying, directly, at least, in this or that outcome, not on the
actual phenomenal fulfilment of this or that end, but rather of the, perhaps
noumenal, presence qua end. Grice relates to Kants views on the benevolentia or
goodwill and malevolentia, or evil will, or illwill. Considers Smiths action of
giving Jones a job. Smith may be deemed to have given Jones a job, whether or
not Jones actually gets the job. It is Smiths benevolentia, or goodwill, not
his beneficentia, that matters. Hence in Short and Lewis, we have bĕnĕfĭcentĭa,
from beneficus, like magnificentia, munificentia, from magnificus, munificus;
cf. Beier and Gernh. upon Cicero, Off. 1, 7, 20, the quality of beneficus,
kindness, beneficence, an honorable and kind treatment of others
(omaleficentia, Lact. Ira Dei, 1, 1; several times in the philos. writings of
Cicero. Elsewhere rare: quid praestantius bonitate et beneficentiā?” Cic. N.D.
1, 43, 121: “beneficentia, quam eandem vel benignitatem vel liberalitatem
appellari licet,” id. Off. 1, 7, 20; 1, 14, 42 sq.; “2, 15, 52 and 53: comitas
ac beneficentia,” id. de Or. 2, 84, 343: “uti beneficentiā adversus supplices,”
Tacitus A. 12, 20: “beneficentia augebat ornabatque Subjectsos,” Sen. Ep. 90,
5; Vulg. Heb. 13, 16. In a more general fashion then, it is the mere
presence of an end qua end of a given action that provides the justification of
the end, and not its phenomenal satisfaction or fulfilment. Furthermore,
the agents having such and such an end, E1, or such and such a combination of
ends, E1 and E2, would be justified by showing that the agents having this end
exhibits some desirable feature, such as this or that combo being harmonious.
For how can one combine ones desire to smoke with ones desire to lead a healthy
life? Harmony is one of Grices six requirements for an application of happy to
Smiths life. The buletic-doxastic souly ascription is back in business at a
higher level. The suggestion would involve an appeal, in the justification of
this or that end, to this or that higher-order end which would be realised by
having this or that lower, or first-order end of a certain sort. Such valuation
of this or that lower-order end lies within reach of a buletic-doxastic souly
ascription. Grice has an important caveat at this point. This or that
higher-order end involved in the defense would itself stand in need of
justification, and the regress might well turn out to be vicious. One is
reminded of Watson’s requirement for a thing like freedom or personal identity
to overcome this or that alleged counterexample to freewill provided by H.
Frankfurt. It is after the laying of a shopping list, as it were, and
considerations such as those above that Grice concludes his reflection with a
defense of a noumenon, complete with the inner conflict that it brings.
Attention to the idea of autonomous and free leads the philosopher to the need
to resolve if not dissolve the most important unsolved problem of philosophy,
viz. how an agent can be, at the same time, a member of both the phenomenal
world and the noumenal world, or, to settle the internal conflict between one
part of our rational nature, the doxastic, even scientific, part which seems to
call for the universal reign of a deterministic law and the other buletic part
which insists that not merely moral responsibility but every variety of rational
belief demands exemption from just such a reign. In this lecture, Grice
explores freedom and value from a privileged-access incorrigible perspective
rather than the creature construction genitorial justification.
ABSOLUTES: The pragmatist philosopher and provocateur F. Schiller
created a parody edition of Mind called Mind! The frontispiece was a Portrait
of Its Immanence the Absolute, which, Schiller notes, is very like the
Bellman’s map in The Hunting of the Snark: completely blank. The Absolute – or
the Infinite or Ultimate Reality, among other grand aliases – is the sum of all
experience and being, and inconceivable to the human mind. It is monistic,
consuming all into the One. If it sounded like something you’d struggle to get
your head around, that is pretty much the point. The Absolute is an emblem of
metaphysical idealism, the doctrine that truth exists only within the domain of
thought. Idealism dominates the academy for the entirety of Carroll’s career,
and it was beginning to come under attack. The realist mission, headed by
Russell, is to clean up philosophys act with the sound application of
mathematics and objective facts, and it felt like a breath of fresh air.
Schiller delights in trolling absolute idealists in general and Bradley in
particular. In Mind!, Schiller claims that the Snark is a satire on the
Absolute, whose notorious ineffability drove its seekers to derangement. But
this was disingenuous. Bradley’s major work, Appearance and Reality, mirrors the
point, insofar that there is one, of the Snark. When you home in on a thing and
try to pin it down by describing its attributes, and then try to pin down what
those are too – Bradley uses the example of a lump of sugar – it all begins to
crumble, and must be something other instead. What appears to be there is only
ever an idea. Carroll is, contrariwise, in line with idealist thinking. A
passionate logician, Carroll had been working on a three-part book on symbolic
logic that remained unfinished at his death. Two logical paradoxes that he
posed in Mind and shared privately with friends and colleagues, such as
Bradley, hint at a trouble-making sentiment regarding where logic might be
headed. ‘A Logical Paradox’ results in two contradictory statements being simultaneously
true. ‘What the Tortoise Said to Achilles’ sets up a predicament in which each
proposition requires an additional supporting proposition, creating an infinite
regress. A few years after Carroll’s death, Russell begins to flex logic as a
tool for denoting the world and testing the validity of propositions about it.
Carroll’s paradoxes are problematic and demand a solution. Russell’s response
to ‘A Logical Paradox’ is to legislate nonsense away into a null-class – a set
of non-existent propositions that, because it had no real members, don’t exist
either. Russell’s solution to ‘What the Tortoise Said to Achilles,’ tucked away
in a footnote to The Principles of Mathematics, entails a recourse to sense in
order to determine whether or not a proposition should be asserted in the first
place, teetering into the mind-dependent realm of idealism. Mentally
determining meaning is a bit like mentally determining reality, and it isn’t a
neat win for logics role as objective sword of truth. In the Snark, the principles of narrative
self-immolate, so that the story, rather than describing things and events in
the world, undoes them into something other. It ends like this: In the midst of the word he was trying to
say, In the midst of his laughter and glee, He had softly and suddenly vanished
away – For the Snark was a Boojum, you see. Strip the plot down to those eight
final words, and it is all there. The thing sought turned out, upon
examination, to be something else entirely. Beyond the flimsy veil of appearance,
formed from words and riddled with holes, lies an inexpressible reality. By the late-20th century, when Russell had
won the battle of ideas and commonsense realism prevailed, critics such as
Martin Gardner, author of The Annotated Hunting of the Snark, were rattled by
Carroll’s antirealism. If the reality we perceive is all there is, and it falls
apart, we are left with nothing. Carroll’s attacks on realism might look
nihilistic or radical to a postwar mind steeped in atheist scientism, but they
were neither. Carroll was a man of his time, taking a philosophically
conservative party line on absolute idealism and its theistic implications. But
he was also prophetic, seeing conflict at the limits of language, logic and
reality, and laying as. of conceptual traps that continue to provoke it. The Snark is one such trap. Carroll rejects
his illustrator Henry Holiday’s image of the Boojum on the basis that it needed
to remain unimaginable, for, after all, how can you illustrate the
incomprehensible nature of ultimate reality? It is a task as doomed as saying
the unsayable – which, paradoxically, was a task Carroll himself couldnt quite
resist. At Oxford, they laughed at Bradleys Absolute, but now Grice has an
essay on absolutes, sic in plural. In the Oxonian received parlance, the
Absolute was a Boo-jum, so it cannot be plural. Bradley, however, does not
help. Bradley writes of “a higher unity, and, on the other hand, pure spirit is
not realized except in the Absolute. It can never and it enters into, but is
itself incapable of, evolution and progress. It may repay us too.” At Oxford,
and especially at Corpus, tutees were aware of Hartmann on axiology. Barnes was
destroying Hartmann for the Jowett! But was Barnes understanding Hartmann?
According to Barnes, Hartmann, otherwise a naturalist, was claiming that this
or that value may exist which is not a natural value. If it can be shown
that values are genuine existent entities, it will be shown that moral
principles are objective, in that their relativity rests upon the discernment
of values that are absolute, not upon the relativity of values. For Hartmann,
as Grice explains, values are genuine existent entities because they are
essences, where Essences form a realm of entities which is not less real, and in
a way more real, than the world of existing things. For Grice, however,
this conception of value as the essence or common ideal property of a thing is
false. This is because, Grice argues, our knowledge of the essence of a thing
relates simply to our necessarily imperfect and contingent observations of what
it is, and how it resembles similar existing objects. It therefore
follows that this knowledge does not relate to some alleged property the form
of which is perfect and eternal. As Grice puts it, to know the essence of a
table, e. g., is simply to know what a table is. It is an imperfect knowledge
of things, not a perfect knowledge of an ideal entity. As such, Grice
claims that Hartmanns notion that moral principles are objective and absolute
if understood un-constructively, is groundless because it i s based upon a
conception of ideal value essences which is mistaken. Like Hartmann, Grice
is very systematik [sic]. In der Ethik, einem seiner zentralen Werke,
entwarf Hartmann im Anschluss an Max Scheler eine materiale Wertethik. Werte
haben danach wie auch die Gegenstände der Mathematik oder Logik die Seinsweise
eines idealen Seins und werden durch Wertfühlen erfasst Werte sind Gebilde
einer ethisch idealen Sphäre eines Reichs mit eigenen Strukturen, eigenen
Gesetzen, eigener Ordnung. Zunächst setzte Hartmann sich kritisch mit
verschiedenen alternativen ethischen Systemen auseinander. Hierzu gehören
zunächst der Utilitarismus in seinen verschiedenen Varianten (Maximierung des
Nutzens) sowie, als Pendant, Schopenhauers Mitleidsethik (Minimierung des
Schadens). Bei diesen Konzepten liegt nach Hartmann eine Verwechselung von
Nützlichkeit und Gutem vor. Dies führt zu einer Verkennung und Verarmung des
Wertgefühls und am Ende zu einem Wertenihilismus. Gegenüber dem
Eudaimonismus wendete Hartmann ein, Glück sei keineswegs der höchste
Wert. Es gäbe wertloses und sogar wertwidriges Glück, jedenfalls Glück
ohne sittliche Grundlage. An Kant kritisierte Hartmann die rein
subjektivistische (im Subjekt liegende) Begründung der Werte. Das
Sittliche in der Gesinnung und die Autonomie des Willens eines Einzelnen
reichten allein nicht zur Begründung der Werte. Zudem seien Kants
Prinzipien nur formal. Nach Hartmann müssen apriorische ethische Prinzipien
auch inhaltlich material sein. Zudem sind Werte nicht nur rational,
sondern haben auch eine Komponente der Intuition. Es gibt eben ein reines
Wert-Apriori. Das unmittelbar, intuitiv, gefühlsmäßig unser praktisches
Bewusstsein, unsere ganze Lebensauffassung durchzieht, und allem, was in
unseren Gesichtskreis fällt, die Wert-Unwert-Akzente verleiht.“ Struktur,
Werte, Sittliche. Grund: das Gute, das Edle, die Fülle, die
Reinheit; 2. Spezielle, a) antike b) mittelalterliche c)
neuzeitliche: Gerechtigkeit Nächstenliebe Fernstenliebe: Weisheit
Wahrhaftigkeit schenkende Tugend Tapferkeit Treue Persönlichkeit Beherrschung
Demut Liebe;
außermoralische: personale, Güter, ästhetische. Im zweiten
Teil seiner Ethik beschrieb Hartmann in einer Werteschau die wesentlichen
Phänomene ethischer Werte. Philosophische Ethik ist eine Maieutik des
sittlichen Bewusstseins. Zum Reich der Werte zählte er Lustwerte, Güterwerte,
Vitalwerte und sittliche Werte. Ähnlich wie in seiner Ontologie sah
Hartmann zwischen den Wertebenen einen Schichtenaufbau. Bei der Ermittlung
der materialen Werte stützte er sich stark auf Aristoteles, aber auch auf
Nietzsche, den er als Entdecker neuer Werte würdigte. Hierzu zählt er zum
Beispiel die Fernstenliebe, die man als frühes Konzept der Umweltethik, als
Beschreibung des Nachhaltigkeitsprinzips, betrachten: „Es mag uns Heutigen
utopisch klingen, wenn von uns der aufgeklärte Blick auf Generationen verlangt
wird, die doch ohne unser Zutun Kinder eines anderen Geistes und einer anderen
Weltlage sein werden. Dennoch bleibt es wahr, dass diese Generation unsere
geschichtlichen Erben sein und die Früchte unseres Tuns ernten werden, und daß
wir die Verantwortung tragen für das, was wir ihnen zu tragen geben. Im dritten
Teil der Ethik setzte sich Hartmann mit der Frage der Freiheit als Voraussetzung
jeder Ethik und der Begründung einer Ablehnung der Relativität von Werten
auseinander. Hinsichtlich der menschlichen Willensfreiheit vertrat
Hartmann die Auffassung, dass innerhalb eines deterministischen Systems die
Intention bzw. der Wille als „überformender“ Faktor wirkt und so
Entscheidungsfreiheit konstituiert. Ähnlich wie Kant betonte er, dass
Willensfreiheit auf der Möglichkeit von rationalen Entscheidungen beruht, aber
auch von äußeren und inneren Bedingtheiten stark beeinträchtigt ist. Erst
aus diesem Zwiespalt heraus kann man jemandem Verantwortung zuschreiben, da er
sich auch anders entscheiden könnte. Allerdings kann man die
Selbstbestimmung ähnlich wie die Realität und die Existenz von Werten nicht
rational beweisen, sondern muss sie als begründetes Faktum annehmen. Die
Begründung gegen die Relativität von Werten verfolgte Hartmann mit
ontologischen Argumenten. Das mit einem Wert verbundene Sollen ist kein
Tunsollen, sondern ein Seinssollen. Ein ideales Seinssollen ist unabhängig vom
Subjekt. Der einzelne Mensch ist dagegen mit einem aktualen Seinssollen
konfrontiert und dafür verantwortlich, dass die Möglichkeit eines Wertes zur
Realität wird. Im Menschen erfolgt ein Übergang vom Idealen zum Realen
durch seine Handlungen. Gegen den Konstruktivismus betonte Hartmann: Nicht
die Person konstituiert die Werte, sondern die Werte konstituieren die Person.
Allerdings sind nicht alle Personen durch die gleichen, unveränderlichen Werte
auf die jeweils gleiche Art bestimmt. Es gibt vielmehr ein sich ständig
wandelndes Wertebewusstsein. Die Werte selbst verschieben sich nicht in
der Revolution des Ethos. Ihr Wesen ist überzeitlich, übergeschichtlich. Aber
das Wertebewusstsein verschiebt sich.“ Grice uses relative variously. His
utterers meaning, e. g. is relative. It is meaning-qua utterer-relativised, as
he puts it. The absolute, versus the relative, is constructed out of the
relative, though. There is hardly a realm of un-constructed reality. Grice
is especially concerned with Barnes, Mackies and Hares rather cavalier (Oxford
pinko) attitude towards the relative and the absolute. Surely the absolute
IS a construction out of the relative. Grice takes a Kantotelian attitude.
We designate, in the power structure of the soul, a proper judge, the ratiocinative
part of the soul of a personal being. Whatever is relative to this particular
creature attains, ipso facto, absolute value. Grice proposes a reduction
of what is valuable-absolute to what is valuable-relative, and succeeds. He was
possibly irritated by Julie Andrews in Noël Cowards Relative values.
PREJUDICES: The life and opinions of H. P. Grice, by H. P. Grice! PGRICE
had been in the works for a while. Knowing this, Grice is able to start his
auto-biography, or memoir, to which he later adds a specific reply to this or
that objection by the editors. The reply is divided in neat sections. After a
preamble displaying his gratitude for the volume in his honour, Grice
turns to his prejudices and predilections; which become, the life and opinions
of H. P. Grice. The third section is a reply to the editorss overview of his
work. This reply itself is itself subdivided into questions of meaning and
rationality, and questions of Met. , philosophical psychology, and value. As
the latter is reprinted in The conception of value, Clarendon, it is possible
to cite this sub-section from the Reply as a separate piece. Grice
originally entitles his essay in a brilliant manner, echoing the style of an
English non-conformist, almost: Prejudices and predilections; which become, the
life and opinions of H. P. Grice. With his Richards, a nice Welsh surNames,
Grice is punning on the first Names of both Grandy and Warner. Grice is
especially concerned with what Richards see as an ontological commitment
on Grices part to the abstract, yet poorly individuated entity of a
proposition. Grice also deals with the alleged insufficiency in his conceptual
analysis of reasoning. He brings for good measure a point about a potential
regressus ad infinitum in his account of a chain of intentions involved in
meaning that p and communicating that p. Even if one of the drafts is titled
festschrift, not by himself, this is not strictly a festschrift in that Grices Names
is hidden behind the acronym: PGRICE. Notably on the philosophy of perception.
Also on the conception of value, especially that tricky third lecture on a
metaphysical foundation for objective value. Grice is supposed to reply to
the individual contributors, who include Strawson, but does not. I cancelled
the implicatum! However, we may identify in his oeuvre points of contacts of
his own views with the philosophers who contributed, notably Strawson. Most of
this material is reproduced verbatim, indeed, as the second part of his Reply
to Richards, and it is a philosophical memoir of which Grice is rightly proud.
The life and opinions are, almost in a joke on Witters, distinctly separated.
Under Life, Grice convers his conservative, irreverent rationalism making his
early initial appearance at Harborne under the influence of his non-conformist
father, and fermented at his tutorials with Hardie at Corpus, and his
associations with Austins play group on Saturday mornings, and some of whose
members he lists alphabetically: Austin, Gardiner, Grice, Hampshire, Hare,
Hart, Nowell-Smith, Paul, Pears, Strawson, Thomson, Urmson, and Warnock.
Also, his joint philosophising with Austin, Pears, Strawson, Thomson, and
Warnock. Under Opinions, Grice expands mainly on ordinary-language philosophy
and his Bunyanesque way to the City of Eternal Truth. Met. , Philosophical
Psychology, and Value, in The conception of value, is thus part of his
Prejudices and predilections. The philosophers Grice quotes are many and
varied, such as Bosanquet and Kneale, and from the other place, Keynes. Grice
spends some delightful time criticising the critics of ordinary-language
philosophy such as Bergmann (who needs an English futilitarian?) and Gellner.
He also quotes from Jespersen, who was "not a philosopher but wrote a
philosophy of grammar!" And Grice includes a reminiscence of the
bombshells brought from Vienna by the enfant terrible of Oxford philosophy
Freddie Ayer, after being sent to the Continent by Ryle. He recalls an air
marshal at a dinner with Strawson at Magdalen relishing on Cook Wilsons adage,
What we know we know. And more besides! After reminiscing for Clarendon, Grice
will go on to reminisce for Harvard University Press in the closing section of
the Retrospective epilogue.
ABSTRACTA: Cf. Ryle, “Categories,” in Flew, cf. Perin on
substantial universal in Aristotle. Cf. Gasser-Winget on perception of
universal. In order to understand and appreciate Aristotle’s views on
universals, it is important to take into account the context in which he
philosophizes. In the days of what Grice
calls “Athenian dialectics,” the contemporary teaching treats a form as a thing
in its own right and distinguishes it sharply from a sensible particular.
Platonism, as Aristotle understands it, has a form standing entirely apart from
a concrete particular participating in it, leaving it hard to see how it could
possibly contribute to the being and knowledge of a particular thing. It is not
surprising that such a sharp distinction invokes difficult questions concerning
the existence and ontological status of a form – the questions concerning the
existence and range of a form are disputed among the Platonists themselves.
Aristotle takes the theory of form to be a theory of the universalium, but
Aristotle’s ‘katholou’ is not simply a synonym for the Platonic form, idea, or
eidos. It is easy to miss this point, since talk of a universalium is often
understood as talk of some independent or additional entity, posited by the
metaphysician usually called “a realist” and not by others. So, in contemporary
usage, “universalium” is associated with something like the Platonic form. This
association, however, is quite misleading when applied to Aristotle’s katholou.
He is very careful to disassociate his katholou from the Platonic Form. He says
repeatedly that a universalium is not, strictly speaking, a substance (they do
not signify “this somethings”) and that they are not separate from sensible
particulars. Since Aristotle is very much concerned with rejecting the
existence of separate Forms, he is evidently aware of the problems concerning
the existence and ontological status. Grice mainly avoids speaking about
Plato’s own views, but it should be pointed out Plato raises many of the problems
himself in the Parmenides. Nonetheless, he nowhere tries to prove the existence
of his universals (at least not in the way the Platonists try to prove the
existence of Forms). Most significantly, his positive remarks on universals
remain neutral with regard to their ontological status (and escape the standard
divide of realism and nominalism). It is difficult to determine the precise
reasons for his neutrality but it is clear that since Aristotle is aware of the
ontological problem, his neutrality cannot simply be the result of ignorance.
Instead, Aristotle might think that his rejection of a separate form gives him
certain immunity against these ontological questions. He might think that the ontological
status of a universalium is not particularly worrisome as long as we do not
separate it from a particular and treat a universalium as a thing in its own
right, extending to them an irreducible ontological status. None of Aristotle’s
commentators (except perhaps Grice) have tried to develop a positive account of
his neutrality. Aristotle’s commentators instead concentrate on the question
concerning the ontological status of his universals. Indeed, it is hard to
avoid this question, given that the concept of universal has long been
understood in association with the “problem of universals”. Furthermore, this
problem might appear to be particularly worrisome in the context of Aristotles
philosophy because Aristotle remains painstakingly non-committal with regard to
the ontological status of universals. Nonetheless, I do not think the reason
why Aristotles commentators have focused on, and disputed over, the ontological
status of his universals lies simply in his neutrality on the topic, though
this plays a role. Above all, this dispute seems to rely on the widely accepted
view that Aristotle commits himself to a dualism of a particular and a
universalium, where Aristotle mentions five arguments for the existence of a
platonic form, which are discussed in greater detail in ‘Peri Ideôn,’ portions
of which are preserved by Alexander in his commentary on Met. A. 149 which differs from the Platonic dualism
only in that he denies that universals could exist independently from
particulars of which they are predicated. The most important motivations for
attributing to Aristotle a Platonic dualism of particulars and universals come
from his standard definitions of the “universal” and “particular” in the De
Int., and from his account of primary and secondary substances in the
Categories. Aristotles standard definitions. By universal Aristotle means that
which is by nature predicated of many things; by particular, what is not. This seems
to set up some sort of distinction between particulars and universals. If a universal
is that which is predicated of many things and particular is that which is not,
then it follows (by definition) that what Aristotle calls “universal” and what
he calls “particular” cannot be strictly identical. No universal can be a
particular (or vice versa), since no universal can be both predicated and not
predicated of many things. From this it is easy to draw a further conclusion
that the distinction between particulars and universals is absolute (both
exclusive and exhaustive), and hence Aristotle, like Plato, treats particulars
and universals as irreducibly distinct kinds of things. This is a natural
conclusion to draw in light of contemporary discussions. On the contemporary
conception, the alternative between universals and particulars is seen as
absolute, and it is often assumed that this is the case with Aristotles
distinction as well.179 However, it should be pointed out that Aristotle
defines particular in the De Int. only negatively and his positive discussions
indicate that the particular stands in a peculiarly intimate relation to the
universal (which cannot be characterized as a kind of dualism. Some argue that
Aristotles definitions of universal and particular commit him to a dichotomy
between particular and universal which appears to be both exclusive and
exhaustive. Another (and perhaps the most important) reason for attributing to
Aristotle a Platonic dualism goes back to his Categories. Aristotles discussion
in the Categories throws some light on the ontological commitments that lie
behind his standard definition of the “universal” as “that which is by nature
predicated of many things”. In the Categories, Aristotle argues that everything
that is predicated of some Subjects is ultimately predicated of some primary
substance, and famously concludes that ‘if the primary substances did not exist
it would be impossible for any of the other things to exist.’ This conclusion
indicates that Aristotle takes the opposite position to Platonists with regard
to the ontological dependence of universals: while universals cannot exist
without or independently of particulars, Forms can. However, according to the
traditional interpretation, their disagreement runs even deeper and concerns
the issue of ontological priority. Aristotles conclusion that universals cannot
exist independently of particulars is traditionally understood as implying that
particulars can exist independently of universals predicated of them. Hence
particulars enjoy ontological priority over universals, i.e., universals cannot
exist without particulars but not vice versa. Consequently, Aristotle turns the
Platonic position upside down. Whereas the Platonists ascribe an ontological
priority to universal Forms, Aristotle attributes it to concrete particulars.
This well-established interpretation is, I believe, the main reason for
attributing to Aristotle a dualist position. It implies that both Plato and
Aristotle separate two things, the one of which can exist without the other.
The only difference is that, while the Platonists separate universals from
particulars (they hold that universal Forms can exist without particulars, but
not vice versa), Aristotle separates particulars from universals (he holds that
particulars can exist without universals, but not vice versa. The latter separation,
however, has a result similar to the Platonic separation – it immediately 151
brings to the forefront questions concerning the existence and ontological
status of universals. I have argued that Aristotles conclusion that universals
cannot exist without particulars does not imply that particulars can therefore
exist without universals. More precisely, I have developed an interpretation
according to which particulars and universals are ontologically interdependent,
i.e., it is no more possible for particulars to exist without universals than
it is for universals to exist without particulars. This interpretation suggests
that although Aristotle does not turn the Platonic position “upside down”, he
definitely changes it, and he does so in a more radical manner than is
traditionally thought. The traditional interpretation holds that particulars
can exist independently from universals, thereby committing Aristotle to a
dualism (i.e., the view that there is an exhaustive distinction between
particulars and universals, so that the one can exist without the other). My
interpretation, on the other hand, holds that particulars and universals are
ontologically interdependent, and their ontological interdependence implies
that “particular” and “universal” (or “primary substance” and “secondary
substance”) cannot be labels for irreducibly distinct types of things.
Aristotle thinks that for a particular to be it has to be something and
universals provide the something that the thing is. However, universals add
nothing “extra” to particular things; they are no extra entities. Rather, they
are embedded in the very nature and being of particulars: the universal is what
the particular is. Hence, we could say that talk of particulars and universals
(or, primary and secondary substances) is really a shorthand way of talking
about universalized particulars and particularized universals. Thus, Aristotle
does not commit himself to a dualism of universals and particulars. Universals
are part of the essential being of particulars and this might well be the
reason 152 why Aristotle does not feel the need to prove the existence of
universals. Their existence is as obvious as the existence of particular
things. After all, we do not – at least, not until we have been influenced by
post-Cartesian philosophy – assume that the existence of particular physical
objects needs to be proved in some special way. Nonetheless, although Aristotle
does not want to set up an exhaustive distinction between universals and
particulars, he does not go to the other extreme and identify universals with
particulars. Accordingly, while “interdependence” is not a dualism it is not a
strict identity either. Strict identity is governed by the principle (Leibniz
Law) which can be loosely expressed by saying that if A and B are identical,
then whatever is true of the one is true of another. But it does not seem to be
the case that whatever is true of a particular is true of a universal, and vice
versa. This is suggested byAristotles definitions of the “universal” and
“particular”: universals are said of many things, whereas particulars are not.
Stated otherwise, while universals may have different instances, it makes no
sense to speak of different instances of particulars. Furthermore, if the
universal is strictly identical with the particular, then it seems to be no
less of a “this something” than the concrete particular itself. And this would
make Aristotles view as “impossible” as the view of the Platonists who treated
universals as particulars beyond their particular instances. That the
separation of universal Forms from particulars turns Forms themselves into
particular substances is one of Aristotles most important criticisms of
Platonism, which predates the contemporary criticism according to which
realists tacitly assimilate general terms to proper Namess (they assume that
general terms signify some particulars entities). This criticism suggests,
again, that universals cannot be strictly identical with particulars. 153 The
above considerations indicate that Aristotle is trying to work out a middle
position between dualism and strict identity. On the one hand, Aristotle does
not want to attribute to universals an irreducible ontological status. The
universal could not exist as a thing in its own right; there are no universals
per se. On the other hand, he wants to give to universals a weak sort of
ontological status which cannot be reduced entirely to the status of
particulars, but which does not entail independent existence from particulars.
Aristotles motivation for attributing to universals a weak ontological status
(and perhaps for coining the word katholou in the first place) appears to be
mainly epistemological. He wants to allow there to be knowledge of universals,
which is potentially knowledge of particulars (and not of some “extra” entity),
but which is not knowledge of any particulars in particular. So although
knowledge of the universal is not about a definite thing (it is not tied to one
particular), the knowledge of particulars is potentially there. Therefore, when
we talk about universals, we do talk about particulars and not of some “extra”
entity – in such talk we assert something of each of them, not of some other
thing in addition to or apart from them.180 Since universal knowledge involves
the ability to know any of the particulars that fall under the universal, it is
comparable to a template that can be filled by any of the particulars of a
relevant sort. As Tweedale puts it: “The universal knowledge is like a check
that can be cashed by anyone who can show that they meet certain
qualifications. Science is made up of such checks. It is difficult to give a
positive account of the precise nature of the distinction that holds between
particulars and universals. I have appealed to the notion of interdependence
which can be seen as a middle ground between dualism and strict. Aristotle
claims that knowledge and demonstration does not require there to be Forms, or
things apart from (para) the many, but it requires there to be something that
holds of (kata) many. It can be argued that Aristotle is committed to “tenuous
realism”, i.e., he views universals as real entities but lacking numerical
oneness. 154 identity. The notion of interdependence (that I take to be at work
in Aristotle) is similar to Duns Scotus notion of formal distinction. Formal
distinction is a real distinction (i.e., a distinction which exists
independently of thought) but it is not a distinction between two things (res),
one of which can exist even when the other does not. Rather, it is a distinction
between two aspects of a thing (Scotus calls them “formalities” and
“realities”, realitas) which are really the same but definitionally independent
from one another. So, formal distinction enables us to distinguish between
aspects (within one thing) which are really the same but which need not be such
that what is true of one must be true of another. 181 Scotus formal distinction
appears to be particularly appropriate in the context of Aristotles philosophy,
since it allows us to say (as Aristotle evidently wants to say) that the only
independently existing things are particular things – but particular things of
a certain sort, “this somethings”. These particulars are both most real and
most knowable, but within them we can distinguish between two aspects (that of
a “this” and that of a “something”) and consider particulars either in respect
of their particularity or as falling under universals. Indeed, Aristotle seems
to be the first philosopher to recognize and to exploit the nowadays widely recognized
point that the way something is described or referred to makes a crucial
difference to the truth and falsity of what is said. He starts to (181 Scotus
formal distinction was fiercely criticized by William Ockham. His criticism
turns on the point that contradictory predicates or properties cannot be
simultaneously true of aspects that are really the same. Scotus could escape
the criticism by firmly insisting that contradictory predicates cannot belong
to aspects that are in no way distinct, but they can belong to aspects really
the same but formally distinct. Nonetheless, Ockhams criticism raises the
question concerning the “robustness” of formal distinction: aspects of the same
thing must be ontologically robust enough to serve as property bearers but not
robust enough to be reduced to things in their own right. Translations of the
most important texts concerning Scotus formal distinction and Ockhams criticism
of it can be found in Tweedale (1999). 155 use the “as such” (hêi, qua)
locution, which plays a crucial role in understanding his views on scientific
knowledge (As I have argued in Chapter Three, science cannot regard the
particular in all its non-repeatable particularity and uniqueness (particular
qua particular), but it can regard the particular under a definite aspect that
it shared with other particulars)
Aristotles commitment to the position that the particular is always a
particular of a certain sort (e.g. the particular horse is always a horse) might
strike us a trivial, but I strongly deny that its triviality is unenlightening.
It should make us think twice before we engage ourselves in the longstanding
dispute over the ontological status of Aristotelian universals. From Aristotles perspective, there does not
appear to be any particularly deep problem about the ontological status of
universals (e.g. his species and genera). On his view, what particular horses
have in common is their being horses, nothing more or nothing less. Nothing
less, since Aristotle does not think that particular horses have nothing in
common except that they are called (or thought of as) horses – they are called
horses because they are horses. And nothing more, since Aristotle does not
think that what they have in common is somehow over and above the fact that they
are all horses. Particular horses are horses in virtue of themselves (one can
go on to explain what it is to be a horse, but this does not require the
introduction of any additional entities). To hunt for something beyond the fact
that all particular horses are horses is to go to an ontological wild goose
chase. See: Inwood on the commensurate universal in Aristotle, and Tweedale on
Aristotles universals. Inwood is concerned with the primary universality as
co-extensionality, when the major premise is a universal proposition. Serious
ontological discussion was usually avoided at Oxford, except if you had to
criticise a New-World philosopher as Warnock does in Metaphysics in logic,
pointing out the many mistakes he perceives in Quines hasty treatment of the Subjects
of universals. It would be interesting to trace the earliest concern by Grice
and his Play Group about universals. Surely it wasnt a concern of the Play
Group leader Austin. It was more of a concern of Ryle, of a previous generation
(“Systematically misleading expressions.”). I think that in this respect New
World philosophers or logicians are to blame. In what Grice calls the “American
School of Latter-Day Nominalists,” there was one credo that kept them united:
their hatred for the proposition! So one has to distinguish between abstract,
and universal. As a Lit. Hum,, that Strawson is not, Grice is more inclined
always to go back to Aristotle. Ordinary language may be good, but after all,
Aristotle did not speak it! He spoke koine. In the Oxford of Grices generation,
to quote Plato was a no no. But to quote koine Aristotle was fine. So it is
only natural that Grice goes back to what Aristotle says about abstractions and
universals in “Categoriae,” and if you can quote him in Grecian, the better,
because Grice knew that New-World logicians will not! Grice introduces atomon,
individuum, individual in terms of izzing and hazzing. x is an atomon,
individuum, individual iff nothing other than x izz x. Strawson is Strawson, or
Austin is Austin. x is a proton atomon, individuum primum, primary
individual iff x is an atomon, individuum, individual, and nothing hazz x.
There is a stark contrast between an atomon, individuum, individual, singular,
and a particular (kathekaston, particulare) proper. Grice proposes this
formally. (∀x)(x is individual,
atomon, individuum) iff ◻ (∀y) (y izzes x) ⊃ (x izzes y). Similarly, Grice proposes a
formal approach to a particular. (∀x) x izz particular (kathekaston, particulare)
iff ◻ (∀y). (x izzes predicable of y) ⊃ (x izzes y and y izzes x). Grice proposes
a formal approach to a singular. (∀x) (x izzes tode ti, a this somewhat,
singulare), ⊃ (x izzes individual,
atomon, individuum. Once defined, Grice can play with them. (∀x)(x izzes a particular (kathekaston,
particulare) ⊃ (x izzes individual,
atomon, individuum). The converse of the above is not a theorem. Not
every individuum is a kathekaston. It is important, at Oxford, never to confuse
an individual with a particular. An individual is an item that cannot be truly
izz-predicated of another item. An individual, e. g. an individual white
("to ti leukon", Cat. 2.1a27), may be hazz-predicable of another
thing. A particular (kathekaston) on the other hand, cannot be neither
izz-predicated nor hazz-predicated of any other item. While each particular is
an individual, the converse implication does not hold. A particular cannot
receive a property unless the particular is something essentially. A particular
must be something or other definable in order to even have a property. A
particular must be tode ti, a this some what, where the ti is the something
definable that tode. Tode ti is sometimes used so that ti is the something that
tode picks out. It may also involve quantification over an essence, or
essential property, of the tode. Tode may pick out the essence, and the ti
range over this or that singular or particular endowed with that essence.
Austin is tode ti may thus generalise either Austin is this man or Austin
is a man. As Grice notes, in Aristotles Categoriae, a primary substance, prote
ousia, substantia prima is an individual tode ti (Cat. 1b6-9 3b10-15). The
substantia prima, indeed, the tode ti, is the particular or singular (e. g., a
particular or singular man), which is not predicable of anything further. Only
a substantia prima is a this, i.e. a, a singular, a singleton, a particular.
A particular man is a this. No this is predicable of this this. For
Aristotle, however, matter (hyle, materia) is not tode ti, and hence matter is
not a primary substance (substantia prima). The matter of which a
particular is made is not a this. Grice knew of Cohen through
Code. Grice was obsessed with this or that. Consider, Grice notes, an
utterance, out of the blue, of such a sentence as The philosopher in the
conference is intelligent. As there are, obviously, many philosophers at
many conferences in the great big world, if the addressee is to treat such a
sentence as being of the form The S is P and as being, on that account,
ripe for Russellian expansion, the addressee might do well to treat it as
exemplifying a more specific quasi-demonstrative form, The A which is φ is P,
where φ represents an epithet to be identified in a particular context of
utterance, φ being a sort of quasi-demonstrative. Standardly, to identify
the reference of φ for a particular utterance of The philosopher in the
conference is sarcastic, the addressee would proceed via the
identification of a particular philosopher as being a good candidate for being
the philosopher meant, and would identify the candidate of φ by finding in the
candidate a feature, e. g., that of being in this city, Oxford, which could be
used to yield a composite epithet (philosopher at the conference at Oxford),
which would in turn fill the bill of being the epithet which the utterer has in
mind as being uniquely satisfied by the philosopher selected as candidate.
Determining the reference of phi would, standardly, involve determining what
feature the utterer might have in mind as being uniquely instantiated by an
actual object, or philosopher, and this in turn would standardly involve
satisfying oneself that some particular feature actually is uniquely satisfied
by a particular actual object (e. g. a particular philosopher). Grice
distinguishes individuum, particulare, and universalium. Short and Lewis have
it as ‘partĭcŭlāris, e, adj. particular. Short and Lewis render ‘particularis’ as
of or concerning a part, partial, particular. Propositiones aliae universales,
aliae particulares, ADogm. Plat. 3, p. 35, 34: partĭcŭlārĭter is particularly,
ADogm. Plat. 3, p. 33, 32; so ogeneraliter, Firm. Math. 1, 5 fin.;
“ouniversaliter,” Aug. Retract. 1, 5 fin. A universalium is an
ab-stractum. Grices concern with universalia can be traced back to his
reading of Aristotles Categoriæ, for his Lit. Hum., and later with Austin.
Other than the substantia prima, it may be said that anything else ‒ attribute,
etc. ‒ belongs in the realm of universalia qua predicable. As such,
a univeralium is not a spatio-temporal continuant. However, Grices
category shift allows a universalium as a Subjects of discourse. The topic
is approached formally by means of the notion of order. First-order predicate
calculus ranges over this or that spatio-temporal continuant individual, in
Strawsons use of the term. A higher-order predicate calculus ranges over this
or that predicate and beyond ‒ as such, a universalium can only be referred to
in a second-order calculus. This is Grices attempt to approach the Aristotelian
and mediæval problem in pragmatic key. A higher category (anything but prote
ousia is a universalium. This is Grice doing history of philosophy. His
main concern is with a universalium in re as an abstract entity. He proposes an
exploration of universalium in re as a response to Extensionalism, so
fashionable, he thinks, in the New World, within what he calls The School of
Latter-Day Nominalists. Grice has to be careful here since he is well aware
that Bennett has called him a meaning-nominalist
INTENTIONALISM: It seems to me that Chomsky is badly off the mark
in the passages I have quoted, and I want to try to explain why in some detail.
Grice has used words like practice and habif and even the more technical word
procedure in their ordinary senses as they are used in ordinary discussion. He
has not made technical concepts out of them as one expect of some behavioural
psychologists. There is nothing in any sense that is behaviourist about such
talk-it is just ordinary talk about behaviour. There is also nothing
exceptional in talking about practice, customs, or habits of language use.
Grice certainly does not intend that these notions, as he has used them, give
anything like a detailed account of the creative use of language. What Chomsky
has to say IS essentially a diatribe against empiricism, secondarily against
behaviourism, and in the third place Grice. In terms of more reasoned and
dispassionate analyses of the matter, it seems to me that one would not think
of Grice not as a behaviourist but as an intentionalist. When Suppes calls
Grice an intentionalist, is he being serious. I. e., is he referring to keyword
intentionalism? We hope so! This is Aunt Matilda’s conversational knack! Seeing
that the Grice collection keeps the Suppes correspondence, it is worth
re-examining Suppes defense of Suppes against Chomsky. Oxonian philosophers
never took Chomsky too seriously. Austin loved to quote sentence by sentence,
from “Syntactic Structures,” for fun. Surely it would not be a pamphlet they
would use to educate their tutees. When Chomsky gave the John Locke lectures,
he couldnt think of anything better but to criticise Grice citing from ONE
reprint in the Searle collection. Some gratitude! The references are very
specific to Grice. He is needing to provide, he thinks, an analysis for
expression meaning. Why? Because of the implicatum. “By uttering x (thereby
explicitly conveying that p), utterer U has implicitly conveyed that q iff U is
making some appeal to some procedure which is part of the repertoire of the
utterer. It is this talk of readiness, and having a procedure in ones
repertoire, that sounds to New-World Chomsky too Morrisian, as it doesnt to an
Oxonian. Suppes, a New-Worlder, puts himself in Old-Worlder Grice about this.
“Chomsky should never mind. When an Oxonian PHILOSOPHER, not psychologist, uses
procedure and readiness, and having ones procedure in ones repertoire, they are
being Oxonian, not to be taken seriously, appealing to ordinary language, and
so on. Chomsky apparently did get it. Suppess two other targets are less
influential: Hungarian-born J. I. Biro, who was not distinguishing between the
reductive and the reductionist distinction that Grice brings back in his
response to Rountree-Jack. The third target is perhaps even less influential:
P. Yu in a rather simplistic survey of the Griceian programme for a journal
that Grice would find too specialised: “Linguistics and Philosophy.” Grice was
always ashamed and avoided to be described as “our man in the philosophy of
language.” Something that could only have happened in the Old World in a
red-brick university, as Grice calls them.
Suppes is involved in PGRICE, and contributes an excellent ‘The primacy
of utterers meaning,’ where he addresses what he rightly sees as an unfair
characterisations of Grice as a behaviourist by three philosophers: Yu, Biro,
and Chomsky. Suppess use of primacy is genial, since its metabole which is all
about. Biro is able to respond to Suppess commentary on Grice as proposing a
reductive but not reductionist analysis of meaning. Suppes rightly
characterises Grice as an Oxonian intentionalist, as one would characterize Hampshire,
with philosophical empiricist, and slightly idealist tendencies, rather. Suppes
rightly observes that Grices use of such jargon, meant to impress, as an
utterers having a basic procedure in ones repertoire as informal and
colloquial, rather than behaviouristically, as Ryle would. Grice is very happy
that Suppes, in the New World, taught him how to use primacy with a straight
face!
COMPLEXUM: Bealer is one of Grices most brilliant tutees in the New World. The Grice collection contains a full f. of correspondence with Bealer. Bealer refers to Grice in his influential Clarendon essay on content. Bealer is concerned with how pragmatic inference may intrude in the ascription of a psychological, or souly, state, attitude, or stance. Bealer loves to quote from Grice on definite descriptions in Russell and in the vernacular, the implicature being that Russell is impenetrable! Bealers mentor is Grices close collaborator Myro, so he knows what he is talking about.
THAT-CLAUSE: Grice thought of Staal as particularly good at this
type of formalistic philosophy, which was still adequate to reflect the
subtleties of ordinary language. How do we define a Griceian action?
How do we define a Griceian event? This is Grices examination and criticism of
Davidson, as a scientific realist, followed by a Kantian approach to freedom
and causation. Grice is especially interested in the logical form, or
explicitum, so that he can play with the implicatum. One of his favourite
examples: He fell on his sword, having tripped as he crossed the Galliæ. Grice
manages to quote from many and varied authors (some of which you would not
expect him to quote) such as Reichenbach, but also Robinson, of Oriel, of You Names
it fame (for any x, if you can Names it, x exists). Robinson has a brilliant
essay on parts of Cook Wilsons Statement and inference, so he certainly knows
what he is talking about. Grice also quotes from von Wright and Eddington.
Grice offers a linguistic botanic survey of autonomy and free (sugar-free,
free fall, implicature-free) which some have found inspirational. His favourite
is Finnegans alcohol-free. Finnegans obvious implicature is that everything is
alcohol-laden. Grice kept a copy of Davidsons The logical form of action
sentences, since surely Davidson, Grice thought, is making a primary
philosophical point. Horses run fast; therefore, horses run. A Davidsonian
problem, and there are more to come! Smith went fishing. Grices category shift
allows us to take Smiths fishing as the grammatical Subjects of an action
sentence. Cf. indeed the way to cope with entailment in The horse runs fast;
therefore, the horse runs. Grices Actions and events is Davidsonian in motivation,
but Kantian in method, one of those actions by Grice to promote a Griceian
event! Davidson had published, Grice thought, some pretty influential (and
provocative, anti-Quineian) stuff on actions and events, or events and actions,
actually, and, worse, he was being discussed at Oxford, too, over which Grice
always keeps an eye! Davidsons point, tersely put, is that while p.q (e.g. It
is raining, and it is pouring) denotes a concatenation of events. Smith is
fishing denotes an action, which is a kind of event, if you are following him
(Davidson, not Smith). However, Davidson is fighting against the intuition, if
you are a follower of Whitehead and Russell, to symbolise the Smith is fishing
as Fs, where s stands for Smith and F for fishing. The logical form of a report
of an event or an action seems to be slightly more complicated. Davidsons point
specifically involves adverbs, or adverbial modifiers, and how to play with
them in terms of entailment. The horse runs fast; therefore, the horse runs. Symbolise
that! as Davidson told Benson Mates! But Mates had gone to the restroom. Grice
explores all these and other topics and submits the thing for publication.
Grice quotes, as isnt his wont, from many and various philosophers, not just
Davidson, whom he saw every Wednesday, but others he didnt, like Reichenbach,
Robinson, Kant, and, again even a physicist like Eddington. Grice remarks that
Davidson is into hypothesis, suppositio, while he is, as he should, into
hypostasis, substantia. Grice then expands on the apparent otiosity of
uttering, It is a fact that grass is green. Grice goes on to summarise what he
ironically dubs an ingenious argument. Let σ abbreviate the
operator consists in the fact that , which,
when prefixed to a sentence, produces a predicate or
epithet. Let S abbreviate Snow is white, and
let G abbreviate Grass is green. In that case, xσS is 1 just in
case xσ(y(y=y and S) = y(y=y) is 1, since the first part of the
sub-sentence which follows σ in the main sentence is logically equivalent logically
equivalent to the second part. And xσ(y(y=y and S) = y(y=y) is
1 just in case xσ(y(if y=y, G) = y(y=y) is 1, since y(if y=y, S)
and y(if y=y, G) are each a singular term, which, if S and G are both
true, each refers to y(y=y), and are therefore co-referential and
inter-substitutable. And xσ(y(if y=y, G) = y(y=y) is true just in
case xσG is 1, since G is logically equivalent to the sub-sentence which
follows σ. So, this fallacy goes, provided that S and G are both 1,
regardless of what an utterer explicitly conveys by uttering a token of it, any
event which consists of the otiose fact that S also consists of the otiose fact
that G, and vice versa, i. e. this randomly chosen event is identical to
any other randomly chosen event. Grice hastens to criticise this slingshot
fallacy licensing the inter-substitution of this or that co-referential
singular term and this or that logically equivalent sub-sentence as
officially demanded because it is needed to license a patently valid, if
baffling, inference. But, if in addition to providing this benefit, the
fallacy saddles the philosopher with a commitment to a hideous consequence, the
rational course is to endeavour to find a way of retaining the benefit
while eliminating the disastrous accompaniment, much as in set theory it
seems rational to seek as generous a comprehension axiom as the need to
escape this or that paradox permits. Grice proposes to retain the
principle of co-reference, but prohibit is use after the principle of
logical equivalence has been used. Grice finds such a measure to have
some intuitive appeal. In the fallacy, the initial deployment of
the principle of logical equivalence seems tailored to the production
of a sentence which provides opportunity for trouble-raising application
of the principle of co-referentiality. And if that is what the game
is, why not stop it? On the assumption that this or that problem which
originally prompts this or that analysis is at least on their way towards
independent solution, Grice turns his attention to the possibility of
providing a constructivist treatment of things which might perhaps have
more intuitive appeal than a naïve realist approach. Grice begins with a
class of happenstance attributions, which is divided into this or that
basic happenstance attribution, i.e. ascriptions to a Subjects-item of an
attribute which is metabolically expressible, and this or that non-basic
resultant happenstance attribution, in which the attribute ascribed,
though not itself metabolically expressible, is such that its possession
by a Subjects item is suitably related to the possession by that or by some
other Subjects item, of this or that attribute which is metabolically
expressible. Any member of the class of happenstance attributions may be
used to say what happens, or happens to be the case, without talking about
any special entity belonging to a class of a happening or a happenstance. A
next stage involves the introduction of the operator consists of the fact that This operator,
when prefixed to a sentence S that makes a happen-stance attribution to a Subjects-item,
yields a predicate which is satisfied by an entity which is a happenstance,
provided that sentence S is doxastically satisfactory, i. e., 1, and that some
further metaphysical condition obtains, which ensures the metaphysical
necessity of the introduction into reality of the category of a happenstance,
thereby ensuring that this new category is not just a class of this or
that fiction. As far as the slingshot fallacy, and the hideous consequence
that all facts become identical to one Great Big Fact, in the light of a
defence of Reichenbach against the realist attack, Grice is reasonably
confident that a metaphysical extension of reality will not saddle him with an
intolerable paradox, pace the caveat that, to some, the slingshot is not
contradictory in the way a paradox is, but merely an unexpected
consequence ‒ not seriously hideous, at that. What this metaphysical
condition would be which would justify the metaphysical extension remains,
alas, to be determined. It is tempting to think that the metaphysical
condition is connected with a theoretical need to have this or that
happenstance as this or that item in, say, a causal relation. Grice goes on to
provide a progression of linguistic botanising including free. Grice
distinguishes four elements or stages in the step-by-step development of
freedom. A first stage is the transeunt causation one finds in
inanimate objects, as when we experience a stone in free fall. This is Humes
realm ‒ the atomistss realm. This is external or transeunt casuation, when an
object is affected by processes in other objects. A second stage is internal or
immanent causation, where a process in an object is the outcome of previous
stages in that process, as in a freely moving body. A third stage is the
internal causation of a living being, in which changes are generated in a
creature by internal features of the creature which are not earlier stages of
the same change, but independent items, the function or finality of which is to
provide for the good of the creature in question. A fourth stage is a
culminating stage at which the conception of a certain mode by a human of
something as being for that creatures good is sufficient to initiate the doing
of that thing. Grice expands on this interesting last stage. At this stage, it
is the case that the creature is liberated from every factive cause. There is
also a discussion of von Wrights table of adverbial modifiers, or Grices
pentagram. Also an exploration of specificity: Jack buttering a parsnip in the
bathroom in the presence of Jill. Grice revisits some of his earlier concerns,
and these are discussed in the appropriate places, such as his exploration on
the Grecian etymology of aition.
LINGUISTIC BOTANY: To not all philosophers analysis fits them to a
T. It did to Grice. It did not even fit Strawson. Grice had a natural talent
for analysis. He could not see philosophy as OTHER than conceptual analysis.
“No more, no less.” Obviously, there is an evaluative side to the claim that
the province of philosophy is to be identified with conceptual analysis. Listen
to a theoretical physicist, and hell keep talking about concepts, and even
analysing them! The man in the street may not! So Grice finds himself fighting
with at least three enemies: the man in the street (and trying to reconcile with
him: What I do is to help you), the
scientists (My conceptual analysis is meta-conceptual), and synthetic
philosophers who disagree with Grice that analysis plays a key role in
philosophical methodology. Grice sees this as an update to his post-war Oxford
philosophy. But we have to remember that back when he read that paper, post-war
Oxford philosophy, was just around the corner and very fashionable. By the time
he composed the 1987 piece on conceptual analysis as overlapping with the
province of philosophy, he was aware that, in The New World, anaytic had
become, thanks to Quine, a bit of an abusive term, and that Grices natural
talent for linguistic botanising (at which post-war Oxford philosophy excelled)
was not something he could trust to encounter outside Oxford, and his Play
Group! Since his Negation and Personal identity Grice is concerned with
reductive analysis. How many angels can dance on a needles point? A needless
point? This is Grices update to his Post-war Oxford philosophy. More generally concerned
with the province of philosophy in general and conceptual analysis beyond
ordinary language. It can become pretty technical. Note the Roman overtone of
province. Grice is implicating that the other province is perhaps science, even
folk science, and the claims and ta legomena of the man in the street. He also
likes to play with the idea that a conceptual enquiry need not be
philosophical. Witness the very opening to Logic and conversation, Prolegomena.
Surely not all inquiries need be philosophical. In fact, a claim to infame of
Grice at the Play Group is having once raised the infamous, most subtle,
question: what is it that makes a conceptual enquiry philosophically
interesting or important? As a result, Austin and his kindergarten spend three weeks
analysing the distinct inappropriate implicata of adverbial collocations of
intensifiers like highly depressed, versus very depressed, or very red, but not
highly red, to no avail. Actually the logical form of very is pretty
complicated, and Grice seems to minimise the point. Grices moralising
implicature, by retelling the story, is that he has since realised (as he hoped
Austin knew) that there is no way he or any philosopher can dictate to any
other philosopher, or himself, what is it that makes a conceptual enquiry
philosophically interesting or important. Whether it is fun is all that
matters.
COMMUNICATION: Why did
Grice feel the need to add a retrospective epilogue? He loved to say that what
the “Way of words” contains is neither his first, nor his last word. So trust
him to have some intermediate words to drop. He is at his most casual in the
very last section of the epilogue. The first section is more of a very
systematic justification for any mistake the reader may identify in the offer.
The words in the epilogue are thus very guarded and qualificatory. Just one
example about our focus: conversational implicate and conversation as rational
co-operation. He goes back to Essay 2, but as he notes, this was hardly the
first word on the principle of conversational helpfulness, nor indeed the first
occasion where he actually used implicature. As regards co-operation, the
retrospective epilogue allows him to expand on a causal phrasing in Essay 2,
“purposive, indeed rational.” Seeing in retrospect how the idea of RATIONALITY
was the one that appealed philosophers most – since it provides a rationale and
justification for what is otherwise an arbitrary semantic proliferation. Grice
then distinguishes between the thesis that conversation is purposive, and the
thesis that conversation is rational. And, whats more, and in excellent
Griceian phrasing, there are two theses here, too. One thing is to see
conversation as rational, and another, to use his very phrasing, as rational
co-operation! Therefore, when one discusses the secondary literature, one
should be attentive to whether the author is referring to Grices qualifications
in the Retrospective epilogue. Grice is careful to date some items 1987 and
some 1988. “Eschatology,” for example, is 1988 – since he refers to this in
things he dates 1987, one has to be careful. These seven f. contain the material for the compilation.
Grice takes the opportunity of the compilation by Harvard of his WOW ,
representative of the mid-60s, i. e. past the heyday of ordinary-language
philosophy, to review the idea of philosophical progress in terms of eight
different strands which display, however, a consistent and distinctive unity.
Grice keeps playing with valediction, valedictory, prospective and
retrospective, and the different drafts are all kept in The Grice Papers. The
Retrospective epilogue, is divided into two sections. In the first section, he
provides input for his eight strands, which cover not just meaning, and the
assertion-implication distinction to which he alludes to in the preface, but
for more substantial philosophical issues like the philosophy of perception,
and the defense of common sense realism versus the sceptial idealist. The
concluding section tackles more directly a second theme he had idenfitied in
the preface, which is a methodological one, and his long-standing defence of
ordinary-language philosophy. The section involves a fine distinction between
the Athenian dialectic and the Oxonian dialectic, and tells the tale about his
fairy godmother, G*. As he notes, Grice had dropped a few words in the preface
explaining the ordering of essays in the compilation. He mentions that he
hesitated to follow Bennetts suggestion that the ordering of the essays be
thematic and chronological. Rather, Grice chooses to publish the whole set
of seven James lectures, what he calls the centerpiece, as part I. Part II, the
explorations in semantics and metaphysics, is organised more or less
thematically, though. In the Retrospective epilogue, Grice takes up this
observation in the preface that two ideas or themes underlie his Studies: that
of meaning, and assertion vs. implication, and philosophical methodology. The
Retrospective epilogue is thus an exploration on eight strands he identifies in
his own philosophy. Grices choice of strand is careful. For Grice, philosophy,
like virtue, is entire. All the strands belong to the same knit, and therefore
display some latitudinal, and, he hopes, longitudinal unity, the latter made
evidence by his drawing on the Athenian dialectic as a foreshadow of the
Oxonian dialectic to come, in the heyday of the Oxford school of analysis, when
an interest in the serious study of ordinary language had never been since and
will never be seen again. By these two types of unity, Grice means the obvious
fact that all branches of philosophy (philosophy of language, or semantics,
philosophy of perception, philosophical psychology, metaphysics, axiology,
etc.) interact and overlap, and that a historical regard for ones philosophical
predecessors is a must, especially at Oxford.
COMMUNICATION: Why is Grice obsessed with asserting? He is more
interested, technically, in the phrastic, or dictor. Grice sees a unity,
indeed, equi-vocality, in the buletic-doxastic continuum. Asserting is usually
associated with the doxastic. Since Grice is always ready to generalise his
points to cover the buletic (recall his Meaning, “theres by now no reason to
stick to informative cases,”), it is best to re-define his asserting in terms
of the phrastic. This is enough of a strong point. As Hare would agree, for
emotivists like Barnes, say, an utterance of buletic force may not have any
content whatsoever. For Grice, there is always a content, the proposition which
becomes true when the action is done and the desire is fulfilled or satisfied.
Grice quotes from Bennett. Importantly, Grice focuses on the
assertion/non-assertion distinction. He overlooks the fact that for this or
that of his beloved imperative utterance, asserting is out of the question, but
explicitly conveying that p is not. He needs a dummy to stand for a
psychological or souly state, stance, or attitude of either boule or doxa, to
cover the field of the utterer mode-neutrally conveying explicitly that his
addressee A is to entertain that p. The explicatum or explicitum sometimes does
the trick, but sometimes it does not. Grice in fact subdivides a first theme.
The first subdivision
COMMUNICATION: It is interesting to review the Names index to the
volume, as well as the Subjects index. This is a huge collection, comprising 14
f. . By contract, Grice was engaged with The Harvard University Press, since
its the President of Harvard College that holds the copyrights for the James
lectures. The title Grice eventually chooses for his compilation of essays,
which goes far beyond the James, although keeping them as the centerpiece, is a
tribute to Locke, who, although obsessed with his idealist and empiricist new
way of ideas, leaves room for both the laymans and scientists realist way of
things, and, more to the point, for this or that philosophical semiotician to
offer this or that study in the way of words. Early in the linguistic turn
minor revolution, the expression the new way of words, had been used
derogatorily. The studies are organised in two parts: Logic and conversation
and the somewhat pretentiously titled Explorations in semantics and
metaphysics, which offers commentary around the centerpiece. It also includes a
Preface and a very rich and inspired Retrospective epilogue. From part I, the James
lectures, only three had not been previously published. The first unpublished
lecture is Prolegomena, which really sets the scene, and makes one wonder what
the few philosophers who quote from The logic of grammar could have made from
the second James lecture taken in isolation. It also shows that Grices style is
meant for public delivery, rather than reading. The second unpublished lecture
is Indicative conditionals. This had been used by a few philosophers, such as
Gazdar, noting that there were many mistakes in the typescript, for which Grice
is not to be blamed. The third is Some models for implicature. Since this Grice
acknowledges is revised, a comparison with the original handwritten version of
the final James lecture retrieves a few differences From Part II, a few essays
had not been published before, but Grice, nodding to the longitudinal unity of
philosophy, is very careful and proud to date them. Commentary on the
individual essays is made under the appropriate dates.
RATIONALITY: Bennett is an excellent correspondent. He holds a
very interesting philosophical correspondence with Hare. This is just one f.
with Grices correspondence with Bennett. Oxford don, Christchurh, NZ-born
Bennett, of Magdalen, B. Phil. Oxon. Bennett has an essay on The interpretation
of formal systems under Austin. It is interesting that Bennett was led to
consider the interpretation of a formal system under Austins Play Group.
Bennett attends Grices seminars. He is my favourite philosopher. Bennett quotes
Grice in his Linguistic behaviour. In return, Grice quotes Bennett in the
Preface to WOW . Bennett has an earlier essay on rationality, which
evidences that the topic is key at Grices Oxford. Bennett has studied better
than anyone the way Locke is Griceian. A word or expression does not just stand
for idea, but for the utterers intention to stand for it! Grice also enjoyed
Bennetts construal of Grice as a nominalist. Bennett makes a narrow use of the
epithet. Since Grice does distinguish between an utterance-token (x) and an
utterance-type, and considers that the attribution of meaning from token to
type is metabolic, this makes Grice a nominalist. Bennett is one of the few to
follow Kantotle and make him popular on the pages of the Times Literary
Supplement, of all places.
COMMUNICATION: Philosophical correspondence is quite a genre. Hare
would express in a letter to the Librarian for the Oxford Union, “Wiggins does
not want to be understood,” or in a letter to Bennett that Williams is the
worse offender of Kantianism! It was different with Grice. He did not type. And
he wrote only very occasionally! These are four folders with general
correspondence, mainly of the academic kind. At Oxford, Grice would hardly keep
a correspondence, but it was different with the New World, where academia turns
towards the bureaucracy. Grice is not precisely a good, or reliable, as The
British Academy puts it, correspondent. In the Oxford manner, Grice prefers a
face-to-face interaction, any day. He treasures his Saturday mornings under
Austins guidance, and he himself leads the Play Group after Austins demise,
which, as Owen reminisced, attained a kind of cult status.
GRICEIANA: Oxford is different. As a tutorial fellow in
philosophy, Grice was meant to tutor his students; as a University Lecturer he
was supposed to lecture sometimes other fellowss tutees! Nothing about this
reads: publish or perish! This is just one f. containing Grices own favourite
Griceian references. To the historian of analytic philosophy, it is of
particular interest. It shows which philosophers Grice respected the most, and
which ones the least. As one might expect, even on the cold shores of Oxford,
as one of Grices tutees put it, Grice is cited by various Oxford philosophers.
Perhaps the first to cite Grice in print is his tutee Strawson, in Introduction
to Logical Theory. Early on, Hart quotes Grice on meaning in his review in The
Philosophical Quarterly of Holloways Language and Intelligence before Grices
Meaning had been published. Obviously, once Grices and Strawsons In defense of
a dogma and Grices Meaning are published by The Philosophical Review,
Grice is discussed profusely. References to his implicature start to appear in
the literature at Oxford in the mid-1960s, within Grices Play Group, as in Hare
and Pears. It is particularly intriguing to explore those philosophers Grice
picks up for dialogue, too, and perhaps arrange them alphabetically, from
Austin to Warnock, say. And Griceian philosophical references, Oxonian or
other, as they should, keep counting!
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