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Tuesday, April 14, 2020

H. P. Grice

H. P. Grice, St. John's Oxford.


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, pq, 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 pq 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. Gexhibits 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. Ghas 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 (pq). 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 SelfSufficiency, 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 wellbeing 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. notp (~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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