Grice's Dictionary -- In Two Volumes, Vol. I.

Grice’s Dictionary

H. P. Grice, St. John’s Oxford

Compiled by Grice’s Playgroup, The Bodleian

“a” Grice knows that his problem with Strawson is the Square of Opposition. So he is well aware of the question about Barbara and Celarent. So there should be entries for “E,” “I,” and “O,” too. The square is generated by overlapping the two categories -- of ‘quantity’ into two: universalis and particularis, and the category of quality into two: the dedicativa and the abdicative. This gives A: universalis dedicativa, E, universalis abdicativa, I: particularis dedicativa, and O: particularis abdicativa.

∀: (∀x) – rendered by Grice as “all.”. Grice thinks that Whitehead and Russell did perfectly well with their substitutional account to ‘all,’ “even it that displeased my tutee P. F. Strawson.” Parsons, who Grice admires, suggests that one treat quantification over predicative classes substitutionally, and capture “the idea that classes are not“real” independently of the expression forthem. Grice perceives a difficulty relating to the allegedly dubious admissibility of propositions as entities. A perfectly sound, though perhaps somewhat superficial, reply to the objection as it is presented would be that in any definition of “Emissor E communicates that p” iff “Emissor E desires that p.” which Grice would be willing to countenance,  'p' operates simply as a ‘gap sign.’ ‘p’ does appear in the analysandum, and re-appears in the corresponding analysans. If Grice were to advance the not wholly plausible thesis that “to feel Byzantine” is just to have a an anti-rylean agitation which is caused by the thought that Grice is or might *be* Byzantine, it would surely be ridiculous to criticize Grice on the grounds that Grice saddles himself with an ontological commitment to feelings, or to modes of feeling. And why? Well, because, alla Parsons, if a quantifier is covertly involved at all, it will only be a universal quantifier which in such a case as this is more than adequately handled by a substitutional account of quantification. Grice’s situation vis-a-vis the ‘proposition’ is in no way different. There should be an entry for the inverted E, the first entry under the E.

abderites: Grice was something of a logical atomist, so he used to refer to himself as a neo-Abderite. The reference being to Democritus and Leucippus, from Abdera.

abdicativa. While one can draw a skull communicating that there is danger; one can then cross out the skull indicating that there is no danger. So the emissor communicates that there is no danger. Or rather, the emissor communicates that it is not the case that there is danger. Since this involves a ‘that’-clause, it is not unreasonable to speak of a ‘propositio,’ and such would be ‘abdicativa.’ In his earliest reflections on the topic, Grice draws on sub-perceptual illustrations rendered more or less as involving two items of ‘propositio dedicativa’ and their negation and privation: ‘The bell tolls in Gb” and “The pillar box is red.” For the latter, “The pillar box is not blue” can be uttered as a conclusion (“If the pillar box is red, it is not the case that the pillar box is blue.”). For the former case, “The bell tolls in Ab” may do. “If the bell tolls in Gb, it is not the case that the bell tolls in Ab.” For Grice, the métier of a propositio abidcativa has to do with the abdicatum of a conjunctum. For a more primitive rationale, Grice does not see the complete justification. That means that Grice sees that there are OPTIONS TO introducing a ‘propositio abdicativa’. These options are of two kinds. One is the ‘stroke.’ If you draw a skull, a stroke, and a skull, you communicate that it is not the case there is danger. The other involves “other than” or “incompatible.” Again, drawsing a skull and writing INCOMPATIBLE and drawing another skull and you communicate that it is not the case that there is danger.

abdicatum: Apuleius makes an analogy that Grice (and the Grecians before) finds interesting. It is the ‘propositio dedicative’ apophatike’/’propositio abdicativa’ kataphatike distinction. The ‘abdicatum’ would be the ‘negatum.’ The ‘dedicatum’ would be the ‘affirmatum.’ Apuleius’s terms make the correlation evident and Grice preferred it to that of ‘affirmatum’ and ‘negatum,’ – “where the correlation is not that obvious.” So there is the abdicatum, the negatum, and the negation. ‘Negatum’ and ‘affirmatum’ are actually used when translating Husserl from the vernacular! For Husserl, Negation negation a noetic modification of a positing, noematic cancellation  every ‘negatum’ an Object posited as existing, reiterated negation; a ‘negatum’ not a determination produced by reflection; non-being equivalent to being validly negated. Grice’s interest in ‘not’ as a unary functor is central. Grice was ablet to tutor Strawson in philosophy in that famous term. In his “Introduction to logical theory,” Strawson alleges to show that some logical ‘laws,’ taken together, show that any truth-functional sentence or formula in which the main constant is “~ “ is the contradictory of the sentence or formula which results from omitting that sign.” Strawson goes on to say: “A standard and primary use of “not” in a sentence is to assert the contradictory of the statement which would be made by the use, in the same context, of the same sentence without “not.” Of course we must not suppose that the insertion of “not” anywhere in any sentence always has this effect. “Some bulls are not dangerous” is not the contradictory of “Some bulls are dangerous.” This is why the identification of “~” with “it is not the case that” is to be preferred to its identification with “not” simpliciter. This identification, then, involves only those minimum departures from the logic of ordinary language which must always result from the formal logician's activity of codifying rules with the help of verbal patterns : viz., (i) the adoption of a rigid rule when ordinary language permits variations and deviations from the standard use (cf. rules “ ~(p Λ ~p)” and “ ~~p ≡ p” and the discussions in 1-8, and 2-9); (ii) that stretching of the sense of ‘exemplify’ which allows, us, e.g., to regard ‘Tom is not mad’ as well as ‘Not all bulls are dangerous’ as 'exemplifications’ of  not-p.’” Strawson goes on: “So we shall call ‘~’ the negation sign, and read ‘~’as ‘not.’ One might be tempted to suppose that declaring formulae “ ~(p Λ ~p)” and “p v ~p” laws of the system was the same as saying that, as regards this system, a statement cannot be both true and false and must be either true or false. But it is not. The rules that  “ ~(p Λ ~p)” and “p v ~p” are analytic are not rules about ‘true’ and ‘false;’ they are rules about ‘~.; They say that, given that a statement has one of the two truth-values, then it is logically impossible for both that statement and the corresponding statement of the form ‘ ~p’  to be true, and for both that statement and the corresponding statement of the form ‘~p’ to be false.” A bit of palæo-Griceian history is in order. Sheffer, defines ‘not’ and negation in terms of incompatibility in ‘A set of five independent postulates for Boolean algebras, with application to logical constants,’ Trans. American Mathematical Society. Grice does refers to ‘the strokes.’ His use of the plural is interesting as a nod to Peirce’s minute logic in his ‘Boolian [sic] algebra with one constant.’ There is indeed Peirce’s stroke, or ampheck (↓), Sheffer’s stroke (|, /, ↑), and and Quine’s stroke (†, strictly Quine’s dagger). Some philosophers prefer to refer to Peirces Stroke as Peirce’s arrow, or strictly stressed double-edged sword. His editors disambiguate his ampheck, distinguishing between the dyadic functor or connective equivalent to Sheffer’s stroke and ‘nor.’ While Whitehead, Russell, and Witters love Sheffer’s stroke, Hilbert does not: ‘‘p/p’ ist dann gleichbedeutend mit ‘X̄.’ Grice explores primitiveness. It is possible, to some extent, to qualify this or that device in terms of primitiveness. As regards ‘not,’ if a communication-system did not contain a unitary negative device, there would be many things that communicators can now communicate that they would be then unable to communicate. He has two important caveats. That would be the case unless, first, the communication-system contained some very artificial-seeming connective like one or other of the strokes, and, second, communicators put themselves to a good deal of trouble, as Plato does in ‘The Sophist’ with ‘diaphoron,’ that Wiggins symbolises with ‘Δ,’ to find, more or less case by case, complicated forms of expression, not necessarily featuring a connective, but involving such expressions as ‘other than’or ‘incompatible with.’ Grice further refers to Aristotle’s ‘apophasis’ in De Int.17a25. Grice, always lured by the potentiality of a joint philosophical endeavour, treasures his collaboration with Strawson that is followed by one with Austin on Cat. and De Int. So what does Aristotle say in De Int.? Surely Aristotle could have started by referring to Plato’s Parmenides, aptly analysed by Wiggins. Since Aristotle is more of a don than a poet, he has to give ‘not’ a name: ‘ἀπόφασις ἐστιν ἀπόφανσίς τινος ἀπό τινος,’a predication of one thing away from another, i.e. negation of it. This is Grice’s reflection, in a verificationist vein, of two types of this or that negative utterance. His immediate trigger is Ryle’s contribution on a symposium on Bradley’s idea of an internal relation, where Grice appeals to Peirce’s incompatibility. ‘The proposition ‘This is red’ is imcompatible with the proposition, ‘This is not coloured.’ While he uses a souly verb or predicate for one of them, Grice will go back to the primacy of ‘potching’ at a later stage. A P potches that the obble is not fang, but feng. It is convenient to introduce this or that soul-state, ψ, sensing that …, or perceiving that … Grice works mainly with two scenarios, both involved with the first-person singular pronoun ‘I’ with which he is obsessed. Grice’s first scenario concerns a proposition that implies another proposition featuring ‘someone, viz. I,’ the first-person singular pronoun as subject, a sensory modal verb, and an object, the proposition, it is not the case that ‘the α is φ₁.’ The denotatum of the first-person pronoun perceives that a thing displays this or the visual sense-datum of a colour, and the corresponding sensory modal predicate. Via a reductive (but not reductionist) analysis, we get that, by uttering ‘It is not the case that I see that the pillar box is blue,’ the utterer U means, i. e. m-intends his addressee A to believe, U he sees that the pillar box is red. U’s source, reason, ground, knowledge, or belief, upon which he bases his uttering his utterance is U’s *indirect* mediated actual experience, belief, or knowledge, linked to a sense-datum φ₂ (red) other than φ₁ (blue). Grice’s second scenario concerns a proposition explicitly featuring the first-person singular pronoun, an introspection, involving an auditory sense-datum of a noise. Via reductive (but not reductionist) analysis, we get that, by uttering ‘It is not the case that I hear that the bell tolls in Gb,’ U means that he lacks the experience of hearing that the bell tolls simpliciter. U’s source, reason, ground, knowledge, or belief, upon which he bases his uttering his utterance is the *direct* unmediated felt absence, or absentia, or privatio or privation, or apophasis, verified by introspection, of the co-relative ψ, which Grice links to the absence of the experience, belief, or knowledge, of the sense-datum, the apophasis of the experience, which is thereby negated. In either case, Grice’s analysans do not feature ‘not.’ Grice turns back to the topic in seminars later at Oxford in connection with Strawson’s cursory treatment of ‘not’ in “Logical Theory.”‘Not’ (and ~.) is the first pair, qua unary satisfactory-value-functor (unlike this or that dyadic co-ordinate, and, or, or the dyadic sub-ordinate if) in Grice’s list of this or that vernacular counterpart attached to this or that formal device. Cf. ‘Smith has not ceased from eating iron,’ in ‘Causal theory.’ In the fourth James lecture, Grice explores a role for negation along the lines of Wilson’s Statement and Inference.’ Grice’s ‘Vacuous Names’ contains Gentzen-type syntactic inference rules for both ‘not’’s introduction (+, ~) and the elimination (-, ~) and the correlative value assignation. Note that there are correlative rules for Peirce’s arrow. Grice’s motivation is to qualify ‘not’ with a subscript scope-indicating device on ~ for a tricky case like ‘The climber of Mt. Everest on hands and knees is not to atttend the party in his honour.’ The logical form becomes qualified: ‘~₂(Marmaduke Bloggs is coming)₁’, or ‘~₂(Pegasus flies)₁.’ generic formula is ~₂p₁, which indicates that p is introduced prior to ~. In the earlier James lectures he used the square bracket device. The generic formula being ‘~[p],’ where [p] reads that p is assigned common-ground status. Cancelling the implicata may be trickier. ‘It is not the case that I hear that the bell tolls because it is under reparation.’ ‘That is not blue; it’s an optical illusion.’ Cf. Grice on ‘It is an illusion. What is it?’ Cf. The king of France is not bald because there is no king of France. In Presupposition, the fourth Urbana lecture, Grice uses square brackets for the subscript scope indicating device. ‘Do not arrest [the intruder]!,’ the device meant to assign common-ground status. In ‘Method” Grice plays with the internalisation of a pre-theoretical concept of not within the scope of ‘ψ.’ In the Kant lectures on “Aspects,” Grice explores ‘not’ within the scope of this or that mode operator, as in the buletic utterance, ‘Do not arrest the intruder!’ Is that internal narrow scope, ‘!~p,’ or external wide scope, ‘~!p’? Grice also touches on this or that mixed-mode utterance, and in connection with the minor problem of presupposition within the scope of an operator other than the indicative-mode operator. ‘Smith has not ceased from eating iron, because Smith does not exist ‒ cf. Hamlet sees that his father is on the rampants, but the sight is not reciprocated ‒ Macbeth sees that Banquo is near him, but his vision is not reciprocated. Grice is having in mind Hare’s defense of a non-doxastic utterance. In his commentary in PGRICE, Grice expands on this metaphysical construction routine of Humeian projection with the pre-intuitive concept of  ‘not,’ specifying the different stages the intuitive concept undergoes until it becomes fully rationally recostructed, as something like a Fregeian sense. In the centerpiece lecture of the William James set, Grice explores Wilson’s Statement and inference to assign a métier to ‘not,’ and succeeds in finding one. The conversational métier of ‘not’ is explained in terms of the conversational implicatum. By uttering ‘Smith has not been to prison yet,’ U implies that some utterer has, somewhere, sometime, expressed an opinion to the contrary. This is connected by Grice with the ability a rational creature has to possess to survive. The creature has to be able, as Sheffer notes, to deny this or that. Grices notable case is the negation of a conjunction. So it may well be that the most rational role for ‘not’ is not primary in that it is realised once less primitive operators are introduced. Is there a strict conceptual distinction, as Grice suggests, between negation and privation? If privation involves or presupposes negation, one might appeal to something like Modified Occam’s Razor (M. O. R.), do not multiply negations beyond necessity. In his choice of examples, Grice seems to be implicating negation for an empirically verifiable, observational utterance, such as U does not see that the pillar box is blue not because U does not exist, but on the basis of U’s experiencing, knowing, believing and indeed seeing that the pillar box is red. This is a negation, proper, or simpliciter (even if it involves a sense-datum phi2 incompatible with sense-datum phi1. Privation, on the other hand, would be involved in an utterance arrived via introspection, such as U does not hear that the bell is ringing on the basis of his knowing that he is aware of the absence, simpliciter, of an experience to that effect. Aristotle, or some later Aristotelian, may have made the same distinction, within apophasis between negation or negatio and privation or privatio. Or not. Of course, Grice is ultimately looking for the rationale behind the conversational implicatum in terms of a principle of conversational helpfulness underlying his picture of conversation as rational co-operation. To use his Pological jargon in Method, in Pirotese and Griceish There is the P₁, who potches that the obble is not fang, but feng. P₁ utters p explicitly conveying that p. P₂ alternatively feels like negating that. By uttering ~p, P₂ explicitly conveys that ~p. P₁ volunteers to P₂, ~p, explicitly conveying that ~p. Not raining! Or No bull. You are safe. Surely a rational creature should be capable to deny this or that, as Grice puts it in Indicative conditionals. Interestingly, Grice does not consider, as Gazdar does, under Palmer), he other possible unitary functors (three in a standard binary assignation of values) – just negation, which reverses the satisfactory-value of the radix or neustic.  In terms of systematics, thus, it is convenient to regard Grices view on negation and privation as his outlook on the operators as this or that procedure by the utterer that endows him with this or that basic expressive, operative power. In this case, the expressive power is specifically related to his proficiency with not. The proficiency is co-related with this or that device in general, whose vernacular expression will bear a formal counterpart. Many of Grices comments addressed to this more general topic of this or that satisfactoriness-preserving operator apply to not, and thus raise the question about the explicitum or explicatum of not. A Griceian should not be confused. The fact that Grice does not explicitly mention not or negation when exploring the concept of a generic formal device does not mean that what he says about formal device may not be particularised to apply to not or negation. His big concession is that Whitehead and Russell (and Peano before them) are right about the explicitum or explicatum of not being ~, even if Grice follows Hilbert and Ackermann in dismissing Peirces arrow for pragmatic reasons. This is what Grice calls the identity thesis to oppose to Strawsons divergence thesis between not and ~. More formally, by uttering Not-p, U explicitly conveys that ~p. Any divergence is explained via the implicatum. A not utterance is horribly uninformative, and not each of them is of philosophical interest. Grice joked with Bradley and Searles The man in the next table is not lighting the cigarette with a twenty-dollar bill, the denotatum of the Subjects being a Texas oilman in his country club. The odd implicatum is usually to the effect that someone thought otherwise. In terms of Cook Wilson, the role of not has more to do with the expressive power of a rational creature to deny a molecular or composite utterance such as p and q Grice comments that in the case of or, the not may be addressed, conversationally, to the utterability of the disjunction. His example involves the logical form Not (p or q). It is not the case that Wilson or Heath will be prime minister. Theres always hope for Nabarro or Thorpe.  The utterer is, at the level of the implicatum, not now contradicting what his co-conversationalist has utterered. The utterer is certainly not denying that Wilson will be Prime Minister. It is, rather, that the utterer U wishes not to assert or state, say, what his co-conversant has asserted, but, instead, to substitute a different statement or claim which the utterer U regards as preferable under the circumstances. Grice calls this substitutive disagreement. This was a long-standing interest of Grices: an earlier manuscript reads Wilson or MacMillan will be prime minister. Let us take a closer look at the way Grice initially rephrases his two scenarios involving not as attached to an auditory and a visual sense datum. I do not hear that the bell is ringing is rationally justified by the absence or absentia of the experience of hearing it. I do not see that the pillar box is blue is rationally justified by U’s sensing that the pillar box is red. The latter depends on Kant’s concept of the synthetic a priori with which Grice tests with his childrens playmates. Can a sweater be red and green all over? No stripes allowed! Can a pillar box be blue and red all over? Cf. Ryles’ssymposium on negation with Mabbott, for the Aristotelian Society, a source for Grices reflexion. Ryle later discussing Bradleys internal relations, reflects that that the proposition, ‘This pillar box is only red’ is incompatible with ‘This pillar box is only blue.’ As bearing this or that conversational implicata, Grices two scenarios can be re-phrased, unhelpfully, as I am unhearing a noise and That is  unred. The apparently unhelpful point bears however some importance. It shows that negation and not are not co-extensive. The variants also demonstrate that the implicatum, qua conversational, rather than conventional, is non-detachable. Not is hardly primtive pure Anglo-Saxon. It is the rather convoluted abbreviation of ne-aught. Its ne that counts as the proper, pure, amorphous Anglo-Saxon negation, as in a member of parliament (if not a horse) uttering nay.  Grices view of conversation as rational co-operation, as displayed in this or that conversational implicatum necessitates that the implicatum is never attached to this or that expression. Here the favoured, but not exclusive expression, is not, since Strawson uses it. But the vernacular provides a wealth of expressive ways to be negative! Grice possibly chose negation not because, as with this or that nihilistic philosopher, such as Schopenhauer, or indeed Parmenides, he finds the concept a key one. But one may well say that this is the Schopenhauerian or the Parmenidesian in Griceian. Grice is approaching not in linguistic, empiricist, or conceptual key. He is applying the new Oxonian methodology: the reductive analysis alla Russell in terms of logical construction. Grices implies priority is with by uttering x, by which U explicitly conveys that ~p, U implicitly conveys that q. The essay thus elaborates on this implicated q. For the record, nihilism was coined by philosopher Jacobi, while the more primitive negatio and privatio is each a time-honoured item in the philosophical lexicon, with which mediaeval this or that speculative grammarian is especially obsessed. Negatio translates the ‘apophasis’ of Aristotle, and has a pretty pedigreed history. The philosophical lexicon has nĕgātĭo, f. negare, which L and S, unhelpfully, render as a denying, denial, negation, Cicero, Sull. 13, 39: negatio inficiatioque facti, id. Part. 29, 102. L and S go on to add that negatio is predicated of to the expression that denies, a negative. Grice would say that L and S should realise that its the utterer who denies. The source L and S give is ADogm. Plat. 3, p. 32, 38. As for Grices other word, there is “prīvātĭo,” f. privare, which again unhelpfully, L and S render as a taking away, privation of a thing. doloris, Cic. Fin. 1, 11, 37, and 38, or pain-free, as Grice might prefer, cf. zero-tolerance. L and S also cite: 2, 9, 28: culpæ, Gell. 2, 6, 10. The negatio-privatio distinction is attested in Grecian, indeed the distinction requires its own entry. For it is Boethius who first renders Aristotle’s ‘hexis’ into ‘habitus’ and Aristotle’s steresis’ into ‘privatio.’ So the the Grecians were never just happy with “ἀπόφασις (A)” and they had to keep multiplying negations beyond necessity. The noun is from “ἀπόφημι.” Now L and S unhepfully render the noun as as denial, negation, adding “oκατάφασις,” for which they cites from The Sophista by Plato (263e), to  give then the definition “ἀπόφασις ἐστιν ἀπόφανσίς τινος ἀπό τινος,” a predication of one thing away from another, i.e. negation of it, for which they provide the source that Grice is relying.  on: Arist. Int.17a25, cf. APo. 72a14; ἀπόφασις τινός, negation, exclusion of a thing,  Pl. Cra. 426d; δύο ἀ. μίαν κατάφασιν ἀποτελοῦσι Luc. Gall.11. If he was not the first to explore philosophically negation, Grice may be regarded as a philosopher who most explored negation as occurring in a that-clause followed by a propositional complexus that contains ~, and as applied to a personal agent, in a lower branch of philosophical psychology. It is also the basis for his linguistic botany. He seems to be trying to help other philosopher not to fall in the trap of thinking that not has a special sense. The utterer means that ~p. In what ways is that to be interpreted? Grice confessed to never been impressed by Ayer. The crudities and dogmatisms seemed too pervasive. Is Grice being an empiricist and a verificationist? Let us go back to This is not red and I am not hearing a noise. Grices suggestion is that the incompatible fact offering a solution to this problem is the fact that the utterer of Someone, viz. I, does not hear that the bell tolls is indicating (and informing) that U merely entertains the positive (affirmative) proposition, Someone, viz. I, hears that the bell tolls, without having an attitude of certainty towards it. More generally, Grice is proposing, like Bradley and indeed Bosanquet, who Grice otherwise regards as a minor philosopher, a more basic Subjects-predicate utterance. The α is not β. The utterer states I do not know that α is β if and only if every present mental or souly process, of mine, has some characteristic incompatible with the knowledge that α is β. One may propose a doxastic weaker version, replacing the dogmatic Oxonian know with believe. Grices view of compatibility is an application of the Sheffer stroke that Grice will later use in accounts of not. ~p iff p|p or ~p ≡df p|p. But then, as Grice points out, Sheffer is hardly Griceian. If Pirotese did not contain a unitary negative device, there would be many things that a P should be able to express that the P should be unable to express unless Pirotese contained some very artificially-looking dyadic functor like one or other of the strokes, or the P put himself to a good deal of trouble to find, more or less case by case, complicated forms of expression, as Platos Parmenides does, involving such expressions as other than, or incompatible with. V. Wiggins on Platos Parmenides in a Griceian key. Such a complicate form of expression would infringe the principle of conversational helpfulness, notably in its desideratum of conversational clarity, or conversational perspicuity [sic], where the sic is Grices seeing that unsensitive Oxonians sometimes mistake perspicuity for the allegedly, cognate perspicacity (L. perspicacitas, like perspicuitas, from perspicere). Grice finds the unitary brevity of not-p attractive. Then theres the pretty Griceian idea of the pregnant proposition. Im not hearing a nose is pregnant, as Occam has it, with I am hearing a noise. A scholastic and mediæval philosopher loves to be figurative. Grices main proposal may be seen as drawing on this or that verificationist assumption by Ayer, who actually has a later essay on not falsely connecting it with falsity. Grices proposed better analysis would please Ayer, had Grice been brought on the right side of the tracks, since it can be Subjectsed to a process of verification, on the understanding that either perception through the senses (It is red) or introspection (Every present mental or souly process of mine ) is each an empirical phenomenon. But there are subtleties to be drawn. At Oxford, Grices view on negation will influence philosophers like Wiggins, and in a negative way, Cohen, who raises the Griceian topic of the occurrence of negation in embedded clauses, found by Grice to be crucial for the rational genitorial justification of not as a refutation of the composite p and q), and motivating Walker with a reply (itself countered by Cohen  ‒ Can the conversationalist hypothesis be defended?). So problems are not absent, as they should not! Grice re-read Peirces definition or reductive analysis of not and enjoyed it!  Peirce discovers the logical connective Grice calls the Sheffer Stroke, as well as the related connective nor (also called Joint Denial, and quite appropriately Peirces Arrow, with other Namess in use being Quines Arrow or Quines Dagger and today usually symbolized by “/”). The relevant manuscript, numbered MS 378 in a subsequent edition and titled A Boolian [sic] Algebra with One Constant, MS 378, was actually destined for discarding and was salvaged for posterity A fragmentary text by Peirce also shows familiarity with the remarkable meta-logical characteristics that make a single function functionally complete, and this is also the case with Peirces unfinished Minute Logic: these texts are published posthumously. Peirce designates the two truth functions, nand and nor, by using the symbol “” which he called ampheck, coining this neologism from the Grecian ἀμφήκης, of equal length in both directions. Peirces editors disambiguate the use of symbols by assigning “” to the connective we call Sheffers troke while preserving the symbol /  for nor.   In MS 378, A Boolian Algebra with One Constant, by Peirce, tagged “to be discarded” at the Department of Philosophy at Harvard, Peirce reduces the number of logical operators to one constant. Peirce states that his notation uses the minimum number of different signs and shows for the first time the possibility of writing both universal and particular propositions with but one copula. Peirce’s notation is later termed Sheffers stroke, and is also well-known as the nand operation, in Peirce’s terms the operation by which two propositions written in a pair are considered to be both denied. In the same manuscript, Peirce also discovers what is the expressive completeness of ‘nor,’ indeed today rightly recognized as the Peirce arrow. Like Sheffer, of Cornell, independently does later (only to be dismissed by Hilbert and Ackermann), Peirce understands that these two connectives can be used to reduce all mathematically definable connectives (also called primitives and constants) of propositional logic. This means that all definable connectives of propositional logic can be defined by using only Sheffers stroke or nor as the single connective. No other connective (or associated function) that takes one or two variables as inputs has this property. Standard, two-valued propositional logic has no unary functions that have the remarkable property of functional completeness. At first blush, availability of this option ensures that economy of resources can be obtained—at least in terms of how many functions or connectives are to be included as undefined. Unfortunately, as Grice, following Hilbert and Ackermann realise, there is a trade-off between this philosophical semantic gain in economy of symbolic resources and the pragmatically unwieldy length and rather counterintuitive, to use Grices phrase, appearance of the formulas that use only the one connective.  It is characteristic of his logical genius, however, and emblematic of his rather under-appreciated, surely not by Grice, contributions to the development of semiotics that Peirce grasps the significance of functional completeness and figure out what truth functions — up to arity 2 — are functionally complete for two-valued propositional logic, never mind helping the philosopher to provide a reductive analysis of negation that Grice is looking for. Strictly, this is the property of weak functional completeness, given that we disregard whether constants or zero-ary functions like 1 or 0 can be defined. Peirce subscribes to a semeiotic view, popular in the Old World with Ogden and Welby, and later Grice, according to which the fundamental nature and proper tasks of the formal study of communication are defined by the rules set down for the construction and manipulation of symbolic resources. A proliferation of symbols for the various connectives that are admitted into the signature of a logical system suffers from a serious defect on this view. The symbolic grammar fails to match or represent the logical fact of interdefinability of the connectives, and reductive analysis of all to one. Peirce is willing sometimes to accept constructing a formal signature for two-valued propositional logic by using the two-members set of connectives, which is minimally functionally complete. This means that these two connectives — or, if we are to stick to an approach that emphasizes the notational character of logical analysis, these two symbols —are adequate expressively. Every mathematically definable connective of the logic can be defined by using only these two. And the set is minimally functionally complete in that neither of these connectives can be defined by the other (so, as we say, they are both independent relative to each other.) The symbol   can be viewed as representing a constant truth function (either unary or binary) that returns the truth value 0 for any input or inputs. Or it can be regarded as a constant, which means that it is a zero=ary (zero-input) function, a degenerate function, which refers to the truth value 0. Although not using, as Grice does, Peanos terminology, Peirce takes the second option. This set has cardinality 2 (it has exactly 2 members) but it is not the best we can do. Peirces discovery of what we have called the Sheffer functions or strokes (anachronistically and unfairly to Peirce, as Grice notes, but bowing to convention) shows that we can have a set of cardinality 1 (a one-member set or a so-called singleton) that is minimally functionally complete with respect to the definable connectives of two-valued propositional logic. Thus, either one of the following sets can do. The sets are functionally complete and, because they have only one member each, we say that the connectives themselves have the property of functional completeness. / is the symbol of Sheffers stroke or nand and /is the symbol of the Peirce Arrow or nor. Grice stipulates as such, even though he does not introduce his grammar formally. It is important to show ow these functions can define other functions. Algebraically approached, this is a matter of functional composition In case one wonders why the satisfaction with defining the connectives of the set that comprises the symbols for negation, inclusive disjunction, and conjunction, Namesly , there is an explanation. There is an easy, although informal, way to show that this set is functionally complete. It is not minimally functionally complete because nor and nand are inter-definable. But it is functionally complete. Thus, showing that one can define these functions suffices for achieving functional completeness. Definability should be thought as logical equivalence. One connective can be defined by means of others if and only if the formulae in the definition (what is defined and what is doing the defining) are logically equivalent. Presuppose the truth-tabular definitions of the connectives.  Grice enjoyed that. Meanwhile, at Corpus, Grice is involved in serious philosophical studies under the tutelage of Hardie. While his philosophical socialising is limited, having been born on the wrong side of the tracks, first at Corpus, and then at Merton, and ending at St. Johns, Grice fails to attend the seminal meetings at All Souls held on Thursday evenings by the play group of the seven (Austin, Ayer, Berlin, Hampshire, MacDermott, MacNabb, and Woozley). Three of them will join Grice in the new play group after the war: Austin, Hampshire, and Woozley. But at St. Johns Grice tutors Strawson, and learns all about the linguistic botany methodology on his return from the navy. Indeed, his being appointed Strawson as his tutee starts a life-long friendship and collaboration. There are separate entries for the connectives: conjunction, disjunction, and conditional. Refs.: Allusions to negation are scattered, notably in Essay 4 in WoW, but also in “Method in philosophical psychology,” and “Prejudices and predilections” (repr. in “Conception”), and under semantics and syntax. There are specific essays of different dates, in s. V, in two separate folders, in BANC.

absolutum: If we say, emissor E communicates that p, what is relatatum about that? Nothing. The theory of communication NEEDS to be relative. To search for the absolute in the theory of communication is otiose, for in communication there is an unavoidable relatum, which is the emissor himself. Now Grice is interested in an emissor that communicates that p is absolute. So we need absolute and meta-absolute. I.e. if the emissor can communicate that ‘p’ is absolute, he has more ground to exert his authority into inducing in his addressee that the addressee believe what he is intended to believe.

The absolutum is one, unlike Grice’s absoluta, or absolutes. Trust Grice to pluralise Bradley’s absolute. While it is practical to restore the root of ‘axis’ for Grice’s value (validum, optimum), it is not easy to find a grecianism for the absolutum absolute. Lewis and Short have “absolvere,” which they render as ‘to loosen from, to make loose, set free, detach, untie (usu. trop., the fig. being derived from fetters, qs. a vinculis solvere, like “vinculis exsolvere,” Plaut. Truc. 3, 4, 10). So that makes sense. Lewis and Short also have “absolutum,” which they render as“absolute, unrestricted, unconditional,” – as in Cicero: “hoc mihi videor videre, esse quasdam cum adjunctione necessitudines, quasdam simplices et absolutas” (Inv. 2, 57, 170). Grice repatedly uses the plural ‘abosolutes,’ and occasionally the singular. Obviously, Grice has in mind the absolute-relative distinction, not wanting to be seen as relativist, unless it is a constructionist relativist. Grice refers to Bradley in ‘Prolegomena,’ and has an essay on the ‘absolutes.’ It is all back to when German philosopher F. Schiller, of Corpus, publishes “Mind!” Its frontispiece is a portrait of the absolute, “very much like the Bellman’s completely blank map in The hunting of the snark.” The absolutum is the sum of all being, an emblem of idealism. Idealism dominates Oxford for part of Grice’s career. The realist mission, headed by Wilson, is to clean up philosophy’s act Bradley’s Appearance and reality, mirrors the point of the snark. Bradley uses the example of a lump of sugar. It all begins to crumble, In Oxonian parlance, the absolute is a boo-jum, you see. Bradley is clear here, to irritate Ayer: the absolutum is, put simply, a higher unity, pure spirit. “It can never and it enters into, but is itself incapable of, evolution and progress.” Especially at Corpus, tutees are aware of Hartmann’s absolutum. Barnes thinks he can destroy with his emotivism. Hartmann, otherwise a naturalist, is claims that this or that value exists, not in the realm (Reich) of nature, but as an ideal essence of a thing, but in a realm which is not less, but more real than nature. For Hartmann, if a value exists, it is not relative, but absolute, objective, and rational, and so is a value judgment. Like Grice, for Hartmann, the relativity dissolves upon conceiving and constructing a value as an absolutum, not a relativum. The essence of a thing need not reduce to a contingence. To conceive the essence of a table is to conceive what the métier of a table. Like Hartmann, Grice is very ‘systematik’ axiologist, and uses ‘relative’ variously. Already in the Oxford Philosophical Society, Grice conceives of an utterer’s meaning and his communicatum is notoriously relative. It is an act of communication relative to an agent. For Grice, there is hardly a realm of un-constructed reality, so his construction of value as an absolutum comes as no surprise. Grice is especially irritated by Julie Andrews in Noël Coward’s “Relative values” and this Oxonian cavalier attitude he perceives in Barnes and Hare, a pinko simplistic attitude against any absolute. Unlike Hartmann, Grice adopts not so much a neo-Kantian as an Ariskantian tenet. The ratiocinative part of the soul of a personal being is designated the proper judge in the power structure of the soul. Whatever is relative to this particular creature successfully attains, ipso facto, absolute value. Refs.: For a good overview of emotivism in Oxford v. Urmson’s The emotive theory of ethics. Grice, “Values, morals, absolutes, and the metaphysical,” The H. P. Grice Papers, Series V (Topical), c 9-f. 24, BANC MSS 90/135c, The Bancroft Library, University of California, Berkeley.

abstractum: In an emissor draws a skull to communicate that there is danger, the addressee comes to think that there is danger, in the air. Let’s formalise that proposition as “The air is dangerous.” Is that abstract? It is: it involves two predicates which may be said to denote two abstracta: the property of being air, and the property of being dangerous. So abstracta are unavoidable in a communicatum, that reaches the sophistication of requiring a ‘that’-clause.  The usual phrase in Grice is ‘abstract’ as adjective and applied to ‘entity’ as anything troublesome to nominalism. At Oxford, Grice belongs to the class for members whose class have no members. If class C and class C have the same members, they are the same. A class xx is a set just in case there is a class yy such that x∈yx∈y. A class which is not a set is an improper, not a proper class, or a well-ordered one, as Burali-Forti puts it in ‘Sulle classi ben ordinate.’ Grice reads Cantor's essay and finds an antinomy on the third page. He mmediately writes his uncle “I am reading Cantor and find an antinomy.” The antinomy is obvious and concerns the class of all classes that are not members of themselves. This obviously leads to a pragmatic contradiction, to echo Moore, since this class must be and not be a member of itself and not a member of itself. Grice had access to the Correspondence of Zermelo and re-wrote the antinomy.Which leads Grice to Austin. For Austin thinks he can lead a class, and that Saturday morning is a good time for a class of members whose classes have no members, almost an insult. Grice is hardly attached to canonicals, not even first-order predicate logic with identity and class theory. Grice sees extensionalism asa a position imbued with the spirit of nominalism yet dear to the philosopher particularly impressed by the power of class theory. But Grice is having in mind the concretum-abstractum distinction, and as an Aristotelian, he wants to defend a category as an abstractum or universalium. Lewis and Short have ‘concrescere,’ rendered as ‘to grow together; hence with the prevailing idea of uniting, and generally of soft or liquid substances which thicken; to harden, condense, curdle, stiffen, congeal, etc. (very freq., and class. in prose and poetry).’ For ‘abstractum,’ they have ‘abstrăhere, which they render as ‘to draw away from a place or person, to drag or pull away.’ The ability to see a horse (hippos) without seeing horseness (hippotes), as Plato remarks, is a matter of stupidity. Yet, perhaps bue to the commentary by his editors, Grice feels defensive about proposition. Expanding on an essay on the propositional complexum,’ the idea is that if we construct a complexum step by step, in class-theoretical terms, one may not committed to an ‘abstract entity.’ But how unabstract is class theory? Grice hardly attaches to the canonicals of first-order predicate calculus with identity together with class theory. An item i is a universalium and 'abstractum' iff i fails to occupy a region in space and time. This raises a few questions. It is conceivable that an items that is standardly regarded as an 'abstractum' may nonetheless occupy a volumes of space and time.  The school of latter-day nominalism is for ever criticised at Oxford, and Grice is no exception. The topic of the abstractum was already present in Grice’s previous generation, as in the essay by Ryle on the systematically misleading expression, and the category reprinted in Flew. For it to be, a particular concretum individuum or prima substantia has to be something, which is what an abstractum universaium provides. A universal is part of the ‘essentia’ of the particular. Ariskants motivation for for coining “to katholou” is doxastic. Aristotle claims that to have a ‘doxa’ requires there to be an abstract universalium, not apart from (“para”), but holding of (“kata”) a concretum individuum. Within the “this” (“tode”) there is an aspect of “something” (“ti.”). Aristotle uses the “hêi” (“qua”) locution, which plays a crucial role in perceiving. Ariskant’s remark that a particular horse is always a horse (with a species and a genus) may strike the non-philosopher as trivial. Grice strongly denies that its triviality is unenlightening, and he loves to quote from Plato. Liddell and Scott have “ἱππότης,” rendered as “horse-nature, the concept of horse,” Antisth. et Pl. ap. Simp.in Cat. 208.30,32, Sch. Arist Id.p.167F. Then there is the ‘commensurate universal,’ the major premise is a universal proposition. Grice provides a logical construction of such lexemes as “abstractum” and “universalium,” and “concretum” and “individuum,” or “atomon” in terms of two relations, “izzing” and “hazzing.” x is an individuum or atomon iff nothing other than x izzes x. Austin is Austin, and Strawson is Strawson. Now, x is a primum individuum, proton atomon, or prima substantia, iff x is an individuum, and nothing hazzes x.  One needs to distinguish between a singular individuum and a particular (“to kathekaston,” particulare) simpliciter. Short and Lewis have “partĭcŭlāris, e, adj.” which they render, unhelpfully, as “particular,” but also 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; opp. “generaliter,” Firm. Math. 1, 5 fin.; opp. “universaliter,” Aug. Retract. 1, 5 fin. Cf. Strawson, “Particular and general,” crediting Grice twice; the second time about a fine point of denotatum: ‘the tallest man that ever lived, lives, or will live.” To define a ‘particular,’ you need to introduce, as Ariskant does, the idea of predication. (∀x)(x is an individuum)≡◻(∀y)(y izzes x)⊃(x izzes y). (∀x)(x izz a particulare(≡◻(∀y)(x izzes predicable of y)⊃(x izzes y Λ y izzes x).  Once we have defined a ‘particular,’ we can go and define a ‘singulare,’ a ‘tode ti,’ a ‘this what.” (∀x)(x izzes singulare)⊃(x izzes an individuum). There’s further implicate to come. (∀x)(x izzes a particulare)⊃(x izzes an individuum)).  The concern by Grice with the abstractum as a “universalium in re” can be traced back to his reading of Aristotle’s Categoriæ, for his Lit. Hum., and later with Austin and Strawson. Anything but a ‘prima substantia,’ ‒ viz. essence, accident, attribute, etc.  ‒ may be said to belong in the realm of the abstractum or universalium qua predicable. As such, an abstractum and univeralium is not a spatio-temporal continuant. However, a category shift or ‘subjectification,’ by Grice allows a universalium as subject. 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 Strawson’s use of the term. A higher-order predicate calculus ranges over this or that abstractum, a feature, and beyond. An abstractum universalium is only referred to in a second-order predicate calculus. This is Grice’s attempt to approach Aristkant in pragmatic key. In his exploration of the abstractum, Grice is challenging extensionalism, so fashionable in the New World within The School of Latter-Day Nominalists. Grice is careful here since he is well aware that Bennett has called him a meaning-nominalist. Refs.: For pre-play group reflections see Ryle’s Categories and Systematically misleading expressions. Explorations by other members of Grice’s playgroup are Strawson, ‘Particular and general’ and Warnock, ‘Metaphysics in logic,’ The main work by Grice at Oxford on the ‘abstractum’ is with Austin (f. 15) and later with Strawson (f.23). Grice, “Aristotle’s Categoriae,” The H. P. Grice Papers, S. II, c. 6-f. 15 and c. 6, f. 23, BANC MSS 90/135c, The Bancroft Library, The University of California, Berkeley.

acceptability: Grice generalizes his desirability and credibility functions into a single acceptability. Acceptability has obviously degrees. Grice is thinking of ‘scales’ alla: must, optimal acceptability (for both modalities), should (medium acceptability), and ought (defeasible acceptability). He develops the views in The John Locke lectures, having introduced ‘accept,’ in his BA lecture on ‘Intention and Uncertainty.’ In fact, much as in “Causal Theory” he has an excursus on ‘Implication,’ here he has, also in italics, an excursus on “acceptance.” It seems that a degree of analogy between intending and believing has to be admitted; likewise the presence of a factual commitment in the case of an expression of intention. We can now use the term ‘acceptance’ to express a generic concept applying both to cases of intention and to cases of belief. He who intends to do A and he who believes that he will do A can both be said to accept (or to accept it as being the case) that he will do A. We could now attempt to renovate the three-pronged analysis discussed in Section I, replacing references in that analysis to being sure or certain that one will do A by references to accepting that one will do A. We might reasonably hope thereby to escape the objections raised in Section I, since these objections seemingly centred on special features of the notion of certainty which would NOT attach to the generic notion of acceptance. Hope that the renovated analysis will enable us to meet the sceptic will not immediately be realised, for the sceptic can still as (a) why some cases of acceptance should be specially dispensed from the need for evidential backing, and (b) if certain cases are exempt from evidential justification but not from justification, what sort of justification is here required. Some progress might be achieved by adopting a different analysis of intention in terms of acceptance. We might suggest that ‘Grice intends to go to Harborne’ is very roughly equivalent to the conjunction of ‘Grice accepts-1 that he will go to Harborne’ and ‘Grice accepts-2 that his going to Harborne will result from the effect of his acceptance-1 that he will go to Harborne. The idea is that when a case of acceptance is also a case of belief, the accepter does NOT regard his acceptance as contributing towards the realisation of the state of affairs the future the existence of which he accepts; whereas when a case of acceptance is not a case of belief but a case of intention, he does regard the acceptance as so contributing. Such an analysis clearly enables us to deal with the sceptic with regard to this question (a), viz. why some cases of acceptance (those which are cases of intention) should be specially exempt from the need of evidential backing. For if my going to Harborne is to depend causally on my acceptance that I shall-c go, the possession of satisfactory evidence that I shall-c go will involve possession of the information that I accept that I shall-c go. Obviously, then, I cannot (though others can) come to accept that I shall-c go on the basis of satisfactory evidence, for to have such evidence I should have already to have accepted that I shall-c go. I cannot decide whether or not to accept-1 that I shall-c go on the strength of evidence which includes as a datum that I do accept-1 that I shall-c go. Grice grants that we are still unable to deal with the sceptic as regards question (b), viz. what sort of justification is available for those cases of acceptance which require non-evidential justification even though they involve a factual commitment. Though it is clear that, on this analysis, one must not expect the intender to rely on evidence for his statements of what he will in fact do, we have not provided any account of the nature of the non-evidential considerations which may be adduced to justify such a statement, nor (a fortiori) of the reasons why such considerations might legitimately thought to succeed in justifying such a statement. Refs.: Grice, “Intention and uncertainty,” The British Academy, and BANC, MSS 90/135c, The Bancroft Library.

acceptum: As a meta-ethicist, like Hare, Grice is interested in providing criteria for acceptability. He proposes three formal universalizability, conceptual universalizability, and applicational universalizability. This is Grice’s Golden Rule, which is Biblical in nature. Grice needs a past participle for a ‘that’-clause of something ‘thought’. He has ‘creditum’ for what is believed, and ‘desideratum’ for what is desired. So he uses ‘acceptum’ for what is accepted, a neutral form to cover both the desideratum and the creditum. Short and Lewis have ‘accipio,’ f. ‘capio.’ Grice uses the abbreviation “Acc” for this. As he puts it in the Locke lectures: "An idea I want to explore is that we represent the sentences ‘Smith should be recovering his health by now’ and ‘Smith should join the cricket club’ as having the following structures. First, a common "rationality" operator 'Acc', to be heard as "it is reasonable that", "it is acceptABLE that", "it ought to be that", "it should be that", or in some other similar way.Next, one or other of two mode operators, which in the case of the first are to be written as '⊢' and in the case of the second are to be written as '!.’ Finally a 'radical', to be represented by 'r' or some other lower-case letter. The structure for the second is ‘Acc + ⊢ + r. For the second, ‘Acc + ! + r,’ with each symbol falling within the scope of its predecessor. Grice is not a psychologist, but he speaks of the ‘soul.’ He was a philosopher engaged in philosophical psychology. The psychological theory which Grice envisages 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. We should recall that the first rendering that Liddell and Scott give for “ψυχή” is “life;” the tripartite division of “ψ., οἱ δὲ περὶ Πλάτωνα καὶ Ἀρχύτας καὶ οἱ λοιποὶ Πυθαγόρειοι τὴν ψ. τριμερῆ ἀποφαίνονται, διαιροῦντες εἰς λογισμὸν καὶ θυμὸν καὶ ἐπιθυμίαν,” Pl.R.439e sqq.; in Arist. “ἡ ψ. τούτοις ὥρισται, θρεπτικῷ, αἰσθητικῷ, διανοητικῷ, κινήσει: πότερον δὲ τοὔτων ἕκαστόν ἐστι ψ. ἢ ψυχῆς μόριον;” de An.413b11, cf. PA641b4; “ἡ θρεπτικὴ ψ.” Id.de An.434a22, al.; And Aristotle also has Grice’s favourite, ‘psychic,’ ψυχικός , ή, όν, “of the soul or life, spiritual, opp. “σωματικός, ἡδοναί” Arist.EN1117b28. The compound “psichiologia” is first used in "Psichiologia de ratione animae humanae," (in Bozicevic-Natalis, Vita Marci Maruli Spalatensis). A footnote in “Method,” repr. in “Conception” dates Grice’s lectures at Princeton. Grice is forever grateful to Carnap for having coined ‘pirot,’ 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 the dispositional behaviouristic analysis by Ryle. The second focal problem is the alleged analytic status of a psychological law. One problem concerns some respect for Grice’s 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. D and C are is each predicate-constant in some law L in some psychological theory θ. This or that instantiable of D or C may well be a set or a property or neither. Grices way of Ramseyified naming: There is just one predicate D, such that nomological generalization L introducing D via implicit definition in theory θ obtains. Uniqueness is essential since D is assigned to a names for a particular instantiable (One can dispense with uniqueness by way of Ramseyified description discussed under ‘ramseyified description.’) Grice trusts he is not overstretching Ramsey’s 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 Pology. He cares to mention 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 Pology as a creature-construction discipline. Repr. in “Conception,” 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! “Method” in “Conception,” philosophical psychology, Pirotology. The Immanuel section is perhaps the most important from the point of view of conversation as rational cooperation. 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 “Uncertainty,” Grice warns that his interpretation of Prichards willing that as a state should not preclude a physicalist analysis, but in Method it is all against physicalism.  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: P judges that p iff P wills as follows: given any situation in which P wills some end E and here are two non-empty classes K₁ and K₂ of action types, such that: the performance by P of an action-type belonging to K₁ realises E₁ just in case p obtains, and the performance by the P 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 P of an action type belonging to  will realise E whether p is true or p is false, in such situation, the P is to will that the P performs some action type belonging to K₁. Creature construction allows for an account of freedom that will metaphysically justify absolute value. Frankfurt has become famous for his second-order and higher-order desires. Grice is exploring similar grounds in what comes out as his “Method” (originally APA presidential address, now repr. in “Conception”). Refs.: The obvious source is his “Method,” repr. in “Conception,” but the keyword: “philosophical psychology” is useful in the Grice papers. There is a specific essay on the power structure of the soul, The H. P. Grice Collection, BANC.

accidentia. If there is accidentia, there is ‘essentia.’ One philosophical mistake: what is essential is not also accidental. Grice follows Kripke in the account of existence and essence. If Grice’s essence is his rational nature, if Grice becomes irrational, he ceases to exist. Not so for any property that Grice has which is NOT essential. An essential property is the first predicable, in that it is not one of this or that genus that is redundant. So Grice applies ‘accidental,’ like ‘essential’ to ‘attribute,’ and to attribute is to predicate. An essential attribute is manifested by an essential predicate. A non-essential predicate is an accidental attribute. There is the ‘idea’ of the ‘proprium,’ idion, with which Grice has to struggle a little. For what is the implicatum of a ‘proprium’ ascripition? “Man is a laughing animal.” Why would someone say such an idiocy in the first place?!

additum -- ad-do , dĭdi, dĭtum, 3, v. a. 2. do (addues for addideris, Paul. ex Fest. p. 27 Müll.),addition. Strawson Wiggins p. 520. The utterer implies something more or different from what he explicitly conveys. Cfr. Disimplicatum, ‘less’ under ‘different from’ How seriously are we taking the ‘more.’ Not used by Grice. They seem cross-categorial. If emissor draws a skull and then a cross he means that there is danger and death in the offing. He crosses the cross, so it means death is avoidable. Urmson says that Warnock went to bed and took off his boots. He implicates in that order. So he means MORE than the ‘ampersand.” The “and” is expanded into “and then.” But in not every case things are so easy that it’s a matter of adding stuff. Cf. summatum, conjunctum.

additive implicature: By uttering ‘and,’ Russell means the Boolean adition. Whitehead means ‘and then’. Whithead’s implicatum is ADDITIVE, as opposed to diaphoron.

agitation: a Byzantine feeling is a Ryleian agitation. If Grice were to advance the not wholly plausible thesis that ‘to feel Byzantine’ is just to have a an anti-rylean agitation which is caused by the thought that Grice is or might *be* Byzantine, it would surely be ridiculous to criticise Grice on the grounds that Grice saddles himself with an ontological commitment to feelings, or to modes of feeling. And why? Well, because, alla Parsons, if a quantifier is covertly involved at all, it will only be a universal quantifier which in such a case as this is more than adequately handled by a substitutional account of quantification. Grice’s situation vis-a-vis the ‘proposition’ is in no way different. In the idiolect of Ryle, “a serious student of Grecian philosophy,” as Grice puts it, ‘emotion’ designates at least three or four different kinds of things, which Ryle calls an ‘inclination, or ‘motive,’ a ‘mood’, an ‘agitation,’ or a ‘commotion,’ and a ‘feeling.’ An inclination or a mood, including an agitation, is not occurrences and doest not therefore take place either publicly or privately. It is a propensity, not an act or state. An inclination is, however, a propensity of this or that kind, and the kind is important. A feeling, on the other hand, IS an occurrence, but the place that mention of it should take in a description of human behaviour is very different from that which the standard theories accord to it. A susceptibility to a specific agitation is on the same general footing with an inclination, viz. that each is a general propensity and not an occurrence. An agitation is not a motive. But an agitation does presuppose a motive, or rather an agitataion presupposes a behaviour trend of which a motive is for us the most interesting sort. There is however a matter of expression which is the source of some confusion, even among Oxonian Wilde readers, and that did confuse philosophical psychologists of the ability of G. F. Stout. An expression may signify both an inclination and an agitation. But an expression may signify anything but an agitations. Again, some other expression may signify anything but an inclination. An expression like ‘uneasy’, ‘anxious’, ‘distressed’, ‘excited’, ‘startled’ always signifies an agitations. An expression like ‘fond of fishing’, ‘keen on gardening’, ‘bent on becoming a bishop’ never signifies an agitation. But an expression like ‘love’, ‘want’, ‘desire’, ‘proud’, ‘eager,’ or many others, stands sometimes for a simple inclination and sometimes for an agitations which is resultant upon the inclinations and interferences with the exercise of it. Thus ‘hungry’ for ‘having a good appetite’ means roughly ‘is eating or would eat heartily and without sauces, etc..’ This is different from ‘hungry’ in which a person might be said to be ‘too hungry to concentrate on his work’. Hunger in this second expression is a distress, and requires for its existence the conjunction of an appetite with the inability to eat. Similarly the way in which a boy is proud of his school is different from the way in which he is speechless with pride on being unexpectedly given a place in a school team. To remove a possible misapprehension, it must be pointed out that an agitation may be quite agreeable. A man may voluntarily subject himself to suspense, fatigue, uncertainty, perplexity, fear and surprise in such practices as angling, rowing, travelling, crossword puzzles, rock-climbing and joking. That a thing like a thrill, a rapture, a surprise, an amusement and an relief is an agitation is shown by the fact that we can say that someone is too much thrilled, amused or relieved to act, think or talk coherently. It is helpful to notice that, anyhow commonly, the expression which completes  ‘pang of . . .’ or ‘chill of . . .’ denotes an agitation. A feeling, such as a man feeling Byzantine, is intrinsically connected with an agitation. But a feeling, e. g. of a man who is feeling Byzantine, is not intrinsically connected with an inclination, save in so far as the inclination is a factor in the agitation. This is no novel psychological hypothesis; It is part of the logic of our descriptions of a feeling that a feeling (such as a man feeling Byzantine) is a sign of an agitation and is not an exercise of an inclination. A feeling, such as a man feeling Byzantine, in other words, is not a thing of which it makes sense to ask from what motive it issues. The same is true, for the same reasons, of any sign of any agitation. This point shows why we were right to suggest above that a feeling (like a man feeling Byzantine) does not belong directly to a simple inclination. An inclination is a certain sort of proneness or readiness to do certain sorts of things on purpose. These things are therefore describable as being done from that motive. They are the exercises of the disposition that we call ‘a motive’. A feeling (such as a man feeling Byzantine) is not from a motive and is therefore not among the possible exercise of such a propensiy. The widespread theory that a motive such as vanity, or affection, is in the first instance a disposition to experience certain specific feeling is therefore absurd. There may be, of course, a tendency to have a feeling, such as feeling Byzantine; being vertiginous and rheumatic are such tendencies. But we do not try to modify a tendency of these kinds by a sermon. What a feeling, such as being Byzantine, does causally belong to is the agitation. A feeling (such as feeling Byzantine) is a sign of an agitation in the same sort of way as a stomach-ache is a sign of indigestion. Roughly, we do not, as the prevalent theory holds, act purposively because we experience a feeling (such as feeling Byzantine); we experience a feeling (such as feeling Byzantine), as we wince and shudder, because we are inhibited from acting purposively. A sentimentalist is a man who indulges in this or that induced feeling (such as feeling Byzantine) without acknowledging the fictitiousness of his agitation. It seems to be generally supposed that ‘pleasure’ or ‘desire’ is always used to signify a feeling. And there certainly are feelings which can be described as a feeling of pleasure or desire. Some thrills, shocks, glows and ticklings are feelings of delight, surprise, relief and amusement; and things like a hankering, an itche, a gnawing and a yearning is a sign that something is both wanted and missed. But the transports, surprises, reliefs and distresses of which such a feeling is diagnosed, or mis-diagnosed, as a sign is not itself a feeling. It is an agitation or a mood, just as are the transports and distresses which a child betrays by his skips and his whimpers. Nostalgia is an agitation and one which can be called a ‘desire’; but it is not merely a feeling or series of feelings. There is the sense of ‘pleasure’ in which it is commonly replaced by such expressions as ‘delight’, ‘transport’, ‘rapture’, ‘exultation’ and ‘joy’. These are expressions of this or that mood signifying this or that agitation. There are two quite different usages of ‘emotion’, in which we explain people’s behaviour by reference to emotions. In the first usage of ‘emotion,’ we are referring to the motives or inclinations from which more or less intelligent actions are done. In a second usage we are referring to a mood, including the agitation or perturbation of which some aimless movement may be a sign. In neither of these usages are we asserting or implicating that the overt behaviour is the effect of a felt turbulence in the agent’s stream of consciousness. In a third usage of ‘emotion’, pangs and twinges are feelings or emotions, but they are not, save per accidens, things by reference to which we explain behaviour. They are things for which diagnoses are required, not things required for the diagnoses of behaviour. Since a convulsion of merriment is not the state of mind of the sober experimentalist, the enjoyment of a joke is also not an introspectible happening. States of mind such as these more or less violent agitations can be examined only in retrospect. Yet nothing disastrous follows from this restriction. We are not shorter of information about panic or amusement than about other states of mind. If retrospection can give us the data we need for our knowledge of some states of mind, there is no reason why it should not do so for all. And this is just what seems to be suggested by the popular phrase ‘to catch oneself doing so and so’. We catch, as we pursue and overtake, what is already running away from us. I catch myself daydreaming about a mountain walk after, perhaps very shortly after, I have begun the daydream; or I catch myself humming a particular air only when the first few notes have already been hummed. Retrospection, prompt or delayed, is a genuine process and one which is exempt from the troubles ensuing from the assumption of multiply divided attention; it is also exempt from the troubles ensuing from the assumption that violent agitations could be the objects of cool, contemporary scrutiny. One may be aware that he is whistling ‘Tipperary’ and not know that he is whistling it in order to give the appearance of a sang-froid which he does not feel. Or, again, he may be aware that he is shamming sang-froid without knowing that the tremors which he is trying to hide derive from the agitation of a guilty conscience.

animatum: In an act of communication, Emissor communicates that p, there is a psi involved, therefore a soul, therefore what the Romans called an ‘anima,’ and the Greeks called the ‘psyche.’ For surely there can be no psi-transmission without a psi. Grice loved to abbreviate this as the psi, since Lady Asquith, who was a soul, would not have desired any less from Grice. Grice, like Plato and Aristotle, holds a tripartite theory of the soul. Where, ‘part’ (Aristotelian ‘meros’) is taken very seriously. Anything thought. From ‘psyche,’ anima. Grice uses the symbol of the letter psi here which he renders as ‘animatum.’ Why Grice prefers ‘soul’ to mind. The immortality of a the chicken soul. By Shropshire. Shropshire claims that the immortality of the soul is proved by the fact that, if you cut off a chicken's head, the chicken will run round the yard for a quarter of an hour before dropping. Grice has an an 'expansion' of Shropshire's ingenious argument.If the soul is not dependent on the body, it is immortal. If the soul is dependent on the body, it is dependent on that part of the body in which it is located. If the soul is located in the body, it is located in the head. If the chicken's soul were located in its head, the chicken's soul would be destroyed if the head were rendered inoperative by removal from the body. The chicken runs round the yard after head-removal. It could do this only if animated, and controlled by its soul. So the chicken's soul is not located in, and not dependent on, the chicken's head. So the chicken's soul is not dependent on the chicken's body. So the chicken's soul is immortal. end p.11 If the chicken's soul is immortal, a fortiori the human soul is immortal. So the soul is immortal. The question I now ask myself is this: why is it that I should be quite prepared to believe that the Harvard students ascribed their expansion of Botvinnik's proof, or at least some part of it, to Botvinnik (as what he had in mind), whereas I have no inclination at all to ascribe any part of my expansion to Shropshire? Considerations which at once strike me as being likely to be relevant are: (1) that Botvinnik's proof without doubt contained more steps than Shropshire's claim; (2) that the expansion of Botvinnik's proof probably imported, as extra premisses, only propositions which are true, and indeed certain; whereas my expansion imports premisses which are false or dubious; (3) that Botvinnik was highly intelligent and an accomplished logician; whereas Shropshire was neither very intelligent nor very accomplished as a philosopher. No doubt these considerations are relevant, though one wonders whether one would be much readier to accord Shropshire's production the title of 'reasoning' if it had contained some further striking 'deductions', such as that since the soul is immortal moral principles have absolute validity; and one might also ask whether the effect of (3) does not nullify that of (2), since, if Shropshire was stupid, why should not one ascribe to him a reconstructed argument containing plainly unacceptable premisses? But, mainly, I would like some further light on the following question: if such considerations as those which I have just mentioned are relevant, why are they relevant? I should say a word about avowals. The following contention might be advanced. If you want to know whether someone R, who has produced what may be an incomplete piece of reasoning, has a particular completion in mind, the direct way to find out is to ask him. That would settle the matter. If, however, you are unable to ask him, then indirect methods will have to be used, which may well be indecisive. Indeterminacy springs merely from having to rely on indirect methods. I have two comments to make. First: it end p.12 is far from clear to what extent avowals do settle the matter. Anyone who has taught philosophy is familiar with the situation in which, under pressure to expand an argument they have advanced, students, particularly beginners, make statements which, one is inclined to say, misrepresent their position. This phenomenon is perhaps accounted for by my much more important second point: that avowals in this kind of context generally do not have the character which one might without reflection suppose them to have; they are not so much reportive as constructive. If I ask someone if he thinks that so-and-so is a consequence of such-and-such, what I shall receive will be primarily a defence of this supposition, not a report on what, historically, he had in mind in making it. We are in general much more interested in whether an inferential step is a good one to make than we are in what a particular person had in mind at the actual moment at which he made the step. One might perhaps see an analogy between avowals in this area and the specification of plans. If someone has propounded a plan for achieving a certain objective, and I ask him what he proposes to do in such-and-such a contingency, I expect him to do the best he can to specify for me a way of meeting that contingency, rather than to give a historically correct account of what thoughts he had been entertaining. This feature of what I might call inferential avowals is one for which we shall have to account.Let us take stock. The thesis which we proposed for examination has needed emendation twice, once in the face of the possibility of bad reasoning, and once to allow for informal and incomplete reasoning. The reformulation needed to accommodate the latter is proving difficult to reach. Let us take s and s′ to be sequences consisting of a set of premisses and a conclusion (or, perhaps it would be better to say, a set of propositions and a further proposition), or a sequence (sorites) of such sequences. (This is not fully accurate, but will serve.) Let us suppose that x has produced s (in speech or in thought). Let "formally cogent" mean "having true premisses, and being such that steps from premisses to conclusions are formally valid". (1) We cannot define "s is a piece of reasoning by x" as "x thinks s to be formally cogent", because if s is an incomplete piece of reasoning s is not, and could not reasonably be thought by x to be, formally cogent. end p.13 (2) We cannot define "s is a piece of reasoning by x" as "(∃s′) (s′ is an expansion of s and s′ is formally cogent)" because (a) it does not get in the idea that x thinks s′ formally cogent and (b) it would exclude bad reasoning. (3) We cannot define "s is a piece of reasoning by x" as "x thinks that (∃s′) (s′ is an expansion of s and s′ is formally cogent)", for this is too weak, and would allow as reasoning any case in which x believed (for whatever reason, or lack of reason) that an informal sequence had some formally cogent expansion or other. (Compare perhaps Shropshire.).” In Latin indeed, ‘animus’ and ‘anima’ make a world of a difference, as Shropshire well knows. Psyche transliterates as ‘anima’ only; ‘animus’ the Greeks never felt the need for. Of course a chicken is an animal, as in man. “Homo animalis rationalis.” Grice prefers ‘human,’ but sometimes he uses ‘animal,’ as opposed to ‘vegetal, sometimes, when considering stages of freedom. A stone (mineral) displays a ‘free’ fall, which is metabolical. And then, a vegetable is less free than an animal, which can move, and a non-human animal (that Grice calls ‘a beast’) is less free than man, who is a rational animal. Grice notes that back in the day, when the prince came from a hunt, “I brought some animals,” since these were ‘deer,’ ‘deer’ was taken as meaning ‘animal,’ when the implicatum was very much cancellable. The Anglo-Saxons soon dropped the ‘deer’ and adopted the Latinate ‘animal.’ They narrowed the use of ‘deer’ for the ‘cervus cervus.’ But not across the North Sea where the zoo is still called a ‘deer-garden.’ When Aelfric studied philosophy he once thought man was a rational deer.

aporia: Cognate with porosity. No porosity, and you get an impasse. While aware of Baker’s and Deutsch’s treatment of the ‘aporia’ in Aristotle’s account of ‘philos,’ Grice explores ‘aporia’ in Plato in the Thrasymachus on ‘legal justice’ prior to ‘moral justice’ in Republic. in Dialectic, question for discussion, difficulty, puzzle, “ἀπορίᾳ σχόμενος” Pl.Prt.321c; ἀ. ἣν ἀπορεῖς ib.324d; “ἡ ἀ. ἰσότης ἐναντίων λογισμῶν” Arist. Top.145b1, al.; “ἔχει ἀπορίαν περί τινος” Id.Pol.1285b28; “αἱ μὲν οὖν ἀ. τοιαῦταί τινες συμβαίνουσιν” Id.EN1146b6; “οὐδεμίαν ποιήσει ἀ.” Id.Metaph.1085a27; ἀ. λύειν, διαλύειν, Id.MM 1201b1, Metaph.1062b31; “ἀπορίᾳ ἀπορίαν λύειν” D.S.1.37.Discussion with the Sophist Thrasymachus can only lead to aporia. And the more I trust you, the more I sink into an aporia of sorts. —Aha! roared Thrasymachus to everyone's surprise. There it is! Socratic aporia is back! Charge! neither Socrates' company nor Socrates himself gives any convincing answer. So, he says, finding himself in a real aporia, he visits Thrasymachus as well, and ... I argue that a combination of these means in form that I call “provocative-aporetic” better accounts for the means that Plato uses to exert a protreptic effect on readers. Aporia is a simultaneously intellectual and affective experience, and the way that readers choose to respond to aporia has a greater protreptic effect than either affective or intellectual means alone. When Socrates says he can 'transfer' the use of "just" to things related to the 'soul,' what kind of conversational game is that? Grice took Socrates's manoeuvre very seriously.Socrates relies on the tripartite theory of the soul. Plato, actually -- since Socrates is a drammatis persona! In "Philosophical Eschatology, Metaphysics, and Plato's Republic," H. P. Grice's purpose is to carry out a provocative-aporetic reading Book I Grice argues that it is a dispute between two ways of understanding 'just' which causes the aporia when Socrates tries to analyse 'just.' Although Socrates will not argue for the complexity and tripartition of the soul until Bk. IV, we can at least note the contrast with Thrasymachus' “idealize user” theory.For Socrates, agents are complex, and justice coordinates the parts of the agent.For Thrasymachus, agents are simple “users,” and justice is a tool for use. (2 - 3) Justice makes its possessor happy; the function (telos, metier) argument. To make the argument that justice is an excellence (virtus, arete) of soul (psyche) that makes its possessor happy, Socrates relies on a method for discovering the function (ἔργον, ergon, 352e1, cf. telos, metier, causa finalis) of any object whatsoever. Socrates begins by differentiating between an exclusive functions and an optimal function, so that we may discover the functions in different types of objects, i.e., natural and artificial objects. We can say an object performs some function (ergon) if one of the following conditions holds.If the object is the only one that can do the work in question, or If it is the object that does that work best.Socrates then provides examples from different part-whole complexes to make his point. The eye's exclusive function is to see, because no other organ is specialized so as to perform just that function. A horse's work is to carry riders into battle. Even though this might not be a horse's EXCLUSIVE function, it may be its “optimal” function in that the horse is best suited or designed by God to the task. Finally, the pruning knife is best for tending to vines, not because it cannot cut anything else, but because it is optimally suited for that task. Socrates' use of the pruning knife of as an example of a thing's function resembles a return to the technē model, since a craftsman must make the knife for a gardener to Socrates asks, “Would you define this as the function of a horse and of anything else, as that which someone does either through that thing alone, or best?” (...τοῦτο ἄν θείης καὶ ἵππου καὶ ἄλλου ὁτουοῦν ἔργον, ὅ ἄν ἤ μόνῳ ἐκείνῳ ποιῇ τις ἤ ἄριστα; 352e1-2) Thrasymachus agrees to this definition of function. 91 use.But his use of the eye — a bodily organ — should dissuade us from this view. One may use these examples to argue that Socrates is in fact offering a new method to investigate the nature of justice: 1) Find out what the functions of such objects are2) determine (by observation, experiment, or even thought experiment) cases where objects of such a kind perform their functions well and cases where they perform them poorly; and 3) finally find out the qualities that enable them to perform such functions well (and in the absence of which they perform poorly), and these are their virtues.A crucial difference between this method and technē model of justice lies in the interpretation that each assigns to the realm of human artifacts. Polemarchus and Thrasymachus both assume that the technē is unique as a form of knowledge for the power and control that it offers users. In Polemarchus' case, the technē of justice, “helping friends and harming enemies,” may be interpreted as a description of a method for gaining political power within a traditional framework of communal life, which assumes the oikos as the basic unit of power. Those families that help their friends and harm their enemies thrive. Thrasymachus, on the other hand, emphasizes the ways that technai grant users the power to exploit nature to further their own, distinctively individual ends. Thus, the shepherd exploits the sheep to make a livelihood for himself. Socrates' approach differs from these by re-casting “mastery” over nature as submission to norms that structure the natural world. For example, many factors contribute to making This points to a distinction Socrates draws in Book X between producers and users of artifacts. He uses the example of the blacksmith who makes a bridle and the horseman who uses the bridle to argue that production and use correspond to two gradations of knowledge (601c). The ultimate purpose of the example is to provide a metaphor — using the craft analogy — for identifying gradations of knowledge on a copy-original paradigm of the form-participant relation. the pruning knife the optimal tool for cutting vines: the shape of the human hand, the thickness and shape of the vines, and the metal of the blade. Likewise, in order for horses to optimally perform their “work,” they must be "healthy" and strong. The conditions that bring about their "health" and strength are not up to us, however."Control” only comes about through the recognition of natural norms. Thus technē is a type of knowledge that coordinates structures in nature.It is not an unlimited source of power. Socrates' inclusion of the human soul (psyche) among those things that have a function is the more controversial aspect of function argument.Socrates says that the functions (erga) of the soul (psyche) are “to engage in care-taking, ruling, and deliberation” and, later, simply that the ergon (or function) of the soul (or psyche) is “to live” (τὸ ζῆν, "to zen," 353d6). But the difficulty seems to be this: the functions of pruning knives, horses, and bodily organs are determined with respect to a limited and fairly unambiguous context that is already defined for them. But what is this context with respect to the soul (psyche) of a human individual? One answer might be that the social world — politics — provides the context that defines the soul's function, just as the needs of the human organism define the context in which the eye can perform a function. But here a challenger might reply that in aristocracies, oligarchies, and democracies, “care-taking, ruling, and deliberation” are utilized for different ends.In these contexts, individual souls might have different functions, according to the “needs” that these different regimes have. Alternatively, one might deny altogether that the human soul has a function: the distinctive feature of human beings might be their position “outside” of nature. Thus, even if Socrates' description of the soul's function is accurate, it is too general to be really informative.Socrates must offer more details for the function argument to be convincing. Nonetheless, the idea that justice is a condition that lets the soul perform its functions is a significant departure from the technē model of justice, and one that will remain throughout the argument of the Republic. […] τὸ ἐπιμελεῖσθαι καὶ ἄρχειν καὶ βουλεύεσθαι (353d3). As far as Bk. I is concerned, “justice” functions as a place-holder for that condition of the soul which permits the soul to perform its functions well. What that condition is, however, remains unknown.For this reason, Plato has Socrates concludes Bk. I by likening himself to a “glutton” (ὥσπερ οἱ λίχνοι, 354b1), who takes another dish before “moderately enjoying the previous” serving (πρὶν τοῦ προτέρου μετρίως ἀπολαύσαι, 354b2-3). For Socrates wants to know what effects the optimal condition of soul brings about before knowing what the condition itself is. Thus Bk. I concludes in "aporia," but not in a way that betrays the dialogue's lack of unity.The “separatist” thesis concerning Bk. I goes back to Hermann in "Geschichte und System der Platonischen Philosophie." One can argue on behalf of the “separatist” view as well. One can argue against the separatist thesis, even granting some evidence in favour of the separatist thesis. To the contrary, the "aporia" clearly foreshadows the argument that Socrates makes about the soul in Bk. IV, viz. that the soul (psyche) is a complex whole of parts -- an implicatum in the “justice is stronger” argument -- and that 'just' is the condition that allows this complex whole be integrated to an optimal degree. Thus, Bk. I does not conclude negatively, but rather provides the resources for going beyond the "technē" model of justice, which is the primary cause of Polemarchus's and Thrasymachus's encounter with "aporia" in Bk. I. Throughout conversation of "The Republic," Socrates does not really alter the argument he gives for justice in Bk. I, but rather states the same argument in a different way.  My gratitude to P. N. Moore. Refs: Wise guys and smart alecks in Republic 1 and 2; Proleptic composition in the Republic, or why Bk. 1 was never a separate dialogue, The Classical Quarterly; "Socrates: ironist and moral philosopher."

Argo. Boethius argumentum. argŭo , ŭi, ūtum (ŭĭtum, hence arguiturus, Sall. Fragm. ap. Prisc. p. 882 P.), 3, v. a. cf. ἀργής, white; ἀργός, bright; Sanscr. árgunas, bright; ragatas, white; and rag, to shine (v. argentum and argilla); after the same analogy we have clarus, bright; and claro, to make bright, to make evident; and the Engl. clear, adj., and to clear = to make clear; v. Georg Curtius p. 171.  I. A.. In gen., to make clear, to show, prove, make known, declare, assert, μηνύειν: “arguo Eam me vidisse intus,” Plaut. Mil. 2, 3, 66: “non ex auditu arguo,” id. Bacch. 3, 3, 65: “M. Valerius Laevinus ... speculatores, non legatos, venisse arguebat,” Liv. 30, 23: “degeneres animos timor arguit,” Verg. A. 4, 13: “amantem et languor et silentium Arguit,” Hor. Epod. 11, 9; id. C. 1, 13, 7.—Pass., in a mid. signif.: “apparet virtus arguiturque malis,” makes itself known, Ov. Tr. 4, 3, 80: “laudibus arguitur vini vinosus Homerus,” betrays himself, Hor. Ep. 1, 19, 6.— B. Esp. a. With aliquem, to attempt to show something, in one's case, against him, to accuse, reprove, censure, charge with: Indicāsse est detulisse; “arguisse accusāsse et convicisse,” Dig. 50, 16, 197 (cf. Fest. p. 22: Argutum iri in discrimen vocari): tu delinquis, ego arguar pro malefactis? Enn. (as transl. of Eurip. Iphig. Aul. 384: Εἶτ̓ ἐγὼ δίκην δῶ σῶν κακῶν ὁ μὴ σφαλείς) ap. Rufin. § “37: servos ipsos neque accuso neque arguo neque purgo,” Cic. Rosc. Am. 41, 120: “Pergin, sceleste, intendere hanc arguere?” Plaut. Mil. 2, 4, 27; 2, 2, 32: “hae tabellae te arguunt,” id. Bacch. 4, 6, 10: “an hunc porro tactum sapor arguet oris?” Lucr. 4, 487: “quod adjeci, non ut arguerem, sed ne arguerer,” Vell. 2, 53, 4: “coram aliquem arguere,” Liv. 43, 5: “apud praefectum,” Tac. A. 14, 41: “(Deus) arguit te heri,” Vulg. Gen. 31, 42; ib. Lev. 19, 17; ib. 2 Tim. 4, 2; ib. Apoc. 3, 19 al.— b. With the cause of complaint in the gen.; abl. with or without de; with in with abl.; with acc.; with a clause as object; or with ut (cf. Ramsh. p. 326; Zumpt, § 446). (α). With gen.: “malorum facinorum,” Plaut. Ps. 2, 4, 56 (cf. infra, argutus, B. 2.): “aliquem probri, Stupri, dedecoris,” id. Am. 3, 2, 2: “viros mortuos summi sceleris,” Cic. Rab. Perd. 9, 26: “aliquem tanti facinoris,” id. Cael. 1: “criminis,” Tac. H. 1, 48: “furti me arguent,” Vulg. Gen. 30, 33; ib. Eccl. 11, 8: “repetundarum,” Tac. A. 3, 33: “occupandae rei publicae,” id. ib. 6, 10: “neglegentiae,” Suet. Caes. 53: “noxae,” id. Aug. 67: “veneni in se comparati,” id. Tib. 49: “socordiae,” id. Claud. 3: “mendacii,” id. Oth. 10: “timoris,” Verg. A. 11, 384: “sceleris arguemur,” Vulg. 4 Reg. 7, 9; ib. Act. 19, 40 al.— (β). With abl.: “te hoc crimine non arguo,” Cic. Verr. 2, 5, 18; Nep. Paus. 3 fin.— (γ). With de: “de eo crimine, quo de arguatur,” Cic. Inv 2, 11, 37: “de quibus quoniam verbo arguit, etc.,” id. Rosc. Am. 29 fin.: “Quis arguet me de peccato?” Vulg. Joan. 8, 46; 16, 8.— (δ). With in with abl. (eccl. Lat.): “non in sacrificiis tuis arguam te,” Vulg. Psa. 49, 8.—（ε) With acc.: quid undas Arguit et liquidam molem camposque natantīs? of what does he impeach the waves? etc., quid being here equivalent to cujus or de quo, Lucr. 6, 405 Munro.—（ζ) With an inf.-clause as object: “quae (mulier) me arguit Hanc domo ab se subripuisse,” Plaut. Men. 5, 2, 62; id. Mil. 2, 4, 36: “occidisse patrem Sex. Roscius arguitur,” Cic. Rosc. Am. 13, 37: “auctor illius injuriae fuisse arguebatur?” Cic. Verr. 2, 1, 33: “qui sibimet vim ferro intulisse arguebatur,” Suet. Claud. 16; id. Ner. 33; id. Galb. 7: “me Arguit incepto rerum accessisse labori,” Ov. M. 13, 297; 15, 504.—（η) With ut, as in Gr. ὡς (post-Aug. and rare), Suet. Ner. 7: “hunc ut dominum et tyrannum, illum ut proditorem arguentes,” as being master and tyrant, Just. 22, 3.— II. Transf. to the thing. 1. To accuse, censure, blame: “ea culpa, quam arguo,” Liv. 1, 28: “peccata coram omnibus argue,” Vulg. 1 Tim. 5, 20: “tribuni plebis dum arguunt in C. Caesare regni voluntatem,” Vell. 2, 68; Suet. Tit. 5 fin.: “taciturnitatem pudoremque quorumdam pro tristitiā et malignitate arguens,” id. Ner. 23; id. Caes. 75: “arguebat et perperam editos census,” he accused of giving a false statement of property, census, id. Calig. 38: “primusque animalia mensis Arguit imponi,” censured, taught that it was wrong, Ov. M. 15, 73: “ut non arguantur opera ejus,” Vulg. Joan. 3, 20.— 2. Trop., to denounce as false: “quod et ipsum Fenestella arguit,” Suet. Vit. Ter. p. 292 Roth.—With reference to the person, to refute, confute: “aliquem,” Suet. Calig. 8.—Hence, argūtus , a, um, P. a. A. Of physical objects, clear. 1. To the sight, bright, glancing, lively: “manus autem minus arguta, digitis subsequens verba, non exprimens,” not too much in motion, Cic. de Or. 3, 59, 220 (cf. id. Or. 18, 59: nullae argutiae digitorum, and Quint. 11, 3, 119-123): “manus inter agendum argutae admodum et gestuosae,” Gell. 1, 5, 2: “et oculi nimis arguti, quem ad modum animo affecti sumus, loquuntur,” Cic. Leg. 1, 9, 27: “ocelli,” Ov. Am. 3, 3, 9; 3, 2, 83: “argutum caput,” a head graceful in motion, Verg. G. 3, 80 (breve, Servius, but this idea is too prosaic): aures breves et argutae, ears that move quickly (not stiff, rigid), Pall. 4, 13, 2: “argutā in soleā,” in the neat sandal, Cat. 68, 72.— 2. a.. To the hearing, clear, penetrating, piercing, both of pleasant and disagreeable sounds, clear-sounding, sharp, noisy, rustling, whizzing, rattling, clashing, etc. (mostly poet.): linguae, Naev. ap. Non. p. 9, 24: “aves,” Prop. 1, 18, 30: “hirundo,” chirping, Verg. G. 1, 377: “olores,” tuneful, id. E. 9, 36: ilex, murmuring, rustling (as moved by the wind), id. ib. 7, 1: “nemus,” id. ib. 8, 22 al.—Hence, a poet. epithet of the musician and poet, clear-sounding, melodious: “Neaera,” Hor. C. 3, 14, 21: “poëtae,” id. Ep. 2, 2, 90: “fama est arguti Nemesis formosa Tibullus,” Mart. 8, 73, 7: forum, full of bustle or din, noisy, Ov. A.A. 1, 80: “serra,” grating, Verg. G. 1, 143: “pecten,” rattling, id. ib. 1, 294; id. A. 7, 14 (cf. in Gr. κερκὶς ἀοιδός, Aristoph. Ranae, v. 1316) al.—Hence, of rattling, prating, verbose discourse: “sine virtute argutum civem mihi habeam pro preaeficā, etc.,” Plaut. Truc. 2, 6, 14: “[Neque mendaciloquom neque adeo argutum magis],” id. Trin. 1, 2, 163 Ritschl.— b. Trop., of written communications, rattling, wordy, verbose: “obviam mihi litteras quam argutissimas de omnibus rebus crebro mittas,” Cic. Att. 6, 5: vereor, ne tibi nimium arguta haec sedulitas videatur, Cael. ap. Cic. Fam. 8, 1. —Transf. to omens, clear, distinct, conclusive, clearly indicative, etc.: “sunt qui vel argutissima haec exta esse dicant,” Cic. Div. 2, 12 fin.: “non tibi candidus argutum sternuit omen Amor?” Prop. 2, 3, 24.— 3. To the smell; sharp, pungent: “odor argutior,” Plin. 15, 3, 4, § 18.— 4. To the taste; sharp, keen, pungent: “sapor,” Pall. 3, 25, 4; 4, 10, 26.— B. Of mental qualities. 1. In a good sense, bright, acute, sagacious, witty: “quis illo (sc. Catone) acerbior in vituperando? in sententiis argutior?” Cic. Brut. 17, 65: “orator,” id. ib. 70, 247: “poëma facit ita festivum, ita concinnum, ita elegans, nihil ut fieri possit argutius,” id. Pis. 29; so, “dicta argutissima,” id. de Or. 2, 61, 250: “sententiae,” id. Opt. Gen. 2: “acumen,” Hor. A. P. 364: “arguto ficta dolore queri,” dexterously-feigned pain, Prop. 1, 18, 26 al.— 2. In a bad sense, sly, artful, cunning: “meretrix,” Hor. S. 1, 10, 40: calo. id. Ep. 1, 14, 42: “milites,” Veg. Mil. 3, 6.—As a pun: ecquid argutus est? is he cunning? Ch. Malorum facinorum saepissime (i.e. has been accused of), Plaut. Ps. 2, 4, 56 (v. supra, I. B. a.).—Hence, adv.: argūtē (only in the signif. of B.). a. Subtly, acutely: “respondere,” Cic. Cael. 8: “conicere,” id. Brut. 14, 53: “dicere,” id. Or. 28, 98.—Comp.: “dicere,” Cic. Brut. 11, 42.— Sup.: “de re argutissime disputare,” Cic. de Or. 2, 4, 18.— b. Craftily: “obrepere,” Plaut. Trin. 4, 2, 132; Arn. 5, p. 181.

Ariskant: Grice, of course, read Ariskant in the vernacular. Critique of Pure Reason. Translated by Francis Haywood. William Pickering. 1838. critick of pure reason. (first English translation) Critique of Pure Reason. Translated by J. M. D. Meiklejohn. 1855 – via Project Gutenberg.Critique of Pure Reason. Translated by Thomas Kingsmill Abbott. 1873.Critique of Pure Reason. Translated by Friedrich Max Müller. The Macmillan Company. 1881. (Introduction by Ludwig Noiré)Critique of Pure Reason. Translated by Norman Kemp Smith. Palgrave Macmillan. 1929. ISBN 1-4039-1194-0. Archived from the original on 2009-04-27.Critique of Pure Reason. Translated by Wolfgang Schwartz. Scientia Verlag und Antiquariat. 1982. ISBN 978-3-5110-9260-3.Critique of Pure Reason. Translated by Werner S. Pluhar. Hackett Publishing. 1996. ISBN 978-0-87220-257-3.Critique of Pure Reason, Abridged. Translated by Werner S. Pluhar. Hackett Publishing. 1999. ISBN 978-1-6246-6605-6.Critique of Pure Reason. Translated and edited by Paul Guyer and Allen W. Wood. Cambridge University Press. 1999. ISBN 978-0-5216-5729-7.Critique of Pure Reason. Translated by Marcus Weigelt. Penguin Books. 2007. ISBN 978-0-1404-4747-7. Grice’s favourite philosopher is Ariskant. One way to approach Grice’s meta-philosophy is by combining teleology with deontology. Eventually, Grice embraces a hedonistic eudaimonism, if rationally approved. Grice knows how to tutor in philosophy: he tutor on Kant as if he is tutoring on Aristotle, and vice versa. His tutees would say, Here come [sic] Kantotle. Grice is obsessed with Kantotle. He would teach one or the other as an ethics requirement. Back at Oxford, the emphasis is of course Aristotle, but he is aware of some trends to introduce Kant in the Lit.Hum. curriculum, not with much success. Strawson does his share with the pure reason in Kant in The bounds of sense, but White professors of moral philosophy are usually not too keen on the critique by Kant of practical reason. Grice is fascinated that an Irishman, back in 1873, cares to translate (“for me”) all that Kant has to say about the eudaimonism and hedonism of Aristotle. An Oxonian philosopher is expected to be a utilitarian, as Hare is, or a Hegelian, and that is why Grice prefers, heterodoxical as he is, to be a Kantian rationalist instead. But Grice cannot help being Aristotelian, Hardie having instilled the “Eth. Nich.” on him at Corpus. While he can’t read Kant in German, Grice uses Abbott’s Irish vernacular. Note the archaic metaphysic sic in singular.  More Kant. Since Baker can read the vernacular even less than Grice, it may be good to review the editions. It all starts when Abbott thinks that his fellow Irishmen are unable to tackle Kant in the vernacular. Abbott’s thing comes out in 1873: Kant’s critique of practical reason and other works on the theory of tthics, with Grice quipping. Oddly, I prefer his other work! Grice collaborates with Baker mainly on work on meta-ethics seen as an offspring, alla Kant, of philosophical psychology. Akrasia or egkrateia is one such topic. Baker contributes to PGRICE, a festschrift for Grice, with an essay on the purity, and alleged lack thereof, of this or that morally evaluable motive – rhetorically put: do ones motives have to be pure? For Grice morality cashes out in self-love, self-interest, and desire. Baker also contributes to a volume on Grice’s honour published by Palgrave, Meaning and analysis: essays on Grice. Baker organises of a symposium on the thought of Grice for the APA, the proceedings of which published in The Journal of Philosophy, with Bennett as chair, contributions by Baker and Grandy, commented by Stalnaker andWarner. Grice explores with Baker problems of egcrateia and the reduction of duty to self-love and interest. Refs.: The obvious keyword is “Kant,” – especially in the Series III on the doctrines, in collaboration with Baker. There are essays on the Grundlegung, too. The keyword for “Kantotle,” and the keywords for ‘free,’ and ‘freedom,’ and ‘practical reason,’ and ‘autonomy, are also helpful. Some of this material in “Actions and events,” “The influence of Kant on Aristotle,” by H. P. Grice, John Locke Scholar (failed), etc., Oxford (Advisor: J. Dempsey). The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

arbor griceiana: ramification – Starwson Wiggins p. 520,  the principle ramifies into the maxims. This is Strawson and Wiggins way of putting this. It’s a difficult issue. What the connection is between Grice’s principle of conversational helpfulness and the attending conversational maxims. Strawson and Wiggins state that Grice should not feel the burden to make the maxims ‘necessarily independent.’ The image of the ramification is a good one – Grice called it ‘arbor griceiana.’

Grice’s pilgrimage. In his pilgrimage towards what he calls the city of Eternal Truth he finds twelve perils – which he lists. The first is Extensionalism (as opposed to Intensionalism – vide intentum -- consequentes rem intellectam: intendere est essentialiter ipsum esse intentio ... quam a concepto sibi adequato: Odint 226; esse intentum est esse non reale: The second is Nominalism (opposite Realism and Conceptualism – Universalism, Abstractionism). It is funny that Grice was criticised for representing each of the perils!The third is Positivism. Opposite to Negativism. Just kidding.  Opposite to anything Sir Freddie Ayer was opposite to!The fourth is Naturalism. Opposite Non-Naturalism. Just joking! But that’s the hateful word brought by G. E. Moore, whom Grice liked (“Some like Witters, but Moore’s MY man.”) The fifth is Mechanism. Opposite Libertarianism, or Finalism, But I guess one likes Libertarianism.The sixth is Phenomenalism. You cannot oppose it to Physicalism, beause that comes next. So this is G. A. Paul (“Is there a problem about sense data?). And the opposite is anything this Scots philosopher was against!The seventh is Reductionism. Opposite Reductivism. Grice was proud to teach J. M. Rountree the distinction between a benevolent reductionist and a malignant eliminationist reductionist. The eighth is physicalism.Opposite metaphysicalism.  The ninth is materialism. Hyleism. Opposite Formalism. Or Immaterialism. The tenth is Empiricism. Opposite Rationalism. The eleventh is Scepticism.Opposite Dogmatism.and the twelfth is functionalism. Opposite Grice! So now let’s order the twelve perils alphabetically. Empiricism. Extensionalism. Functionalism. MaterialismMechanism. Naturalism. Nominalism. Phenomenalism. Positivism. Physicalism. Reductionism. Scepticism. Now let us see how they apply to the theory of the conversational implicatum and conversation as rational cooperation. Empiricism – Grice is an avowed rationalist.Extensionalism – His main concern is that the predicate in the proposition which is communicated is void, we yield the counterintuitive result that an emissor who communicates that the S is V, where V is vacuous communicates the same thing he would be communicating for any other vacuous predicate V’Functionalism – There is a purely experiential qualia in some emissor communicating that p that is not covered by the common-or-garden variety of functionalism. E.g. “I love myself.” Materialism – rationalism means dealing with a realm of noumena which goes beyond materialismMechanism – rationalism entails end-setting unweighed finality and freedom. Naturalism – communication involves optimality which is beyond naturalism Nominalism – a predicate is an abstractum. Phenomenalism – there is realism which gives priority to the material thing, not the sense datum. A sense datum of an apple does not nourish us. Positivism – an emissor may communicate a value, which is not positivistically reduced to something verifiable. Physicalism – there must be multiple realization, and many things physicalists say sound ‘harsh’ to Grice’s ears (“Smith’s brain being in state C doesn’t have adequate evidence”). Reductionism – We are not eliminating anything. Scepticism – there are dogmas which are derived from paradigm cases, even sophisticated ones.How to introduce the twelve entriesEmpiricism – from Greek empereia – cf. etymology for English ‘experience.’Extensionalism -- extensumFunctionalism – functum. Materialism  -- Mechanism Naturalism Nominalism Phenomenalism Positivism Physicalism Reductionism Scepticism.  this section events are reviewed according to principal scenes of action. Place names appear in the order in which major incidents occur. City of Destruction. The city stands as a symbol of the entire world as it is, with all of its sins, corruptions, and sorrows. No one living there can have any hope of salvation. Convinced that the city is about to be blasted by the wrath of God, Christian flees and sets out alone on a pilgrimage which he hopes will lead him to Mount Zion, to the Celestial City, where he can enjoy eternal life in the happy company of God and the Heavenly Host. Slough of Despond. A swamp, a bog, a quagmire, the first obstacle in Christian's course. Pilgrims are apt to get mired down here by their doubts and fears. After much difficulty and with some providential help, Christian finally manages to flounder across the treacherous bog and is on his way again. Village of Morality. Near the village Christian meets Mr. Worldly Wiseman, who, though not religiously inclined, is a friendly and well-disposed person. He tells Christian that it would be foolish of him to continue his pilgrimage, the end of which could only be hunger, pain, and death. Christian should be a sensible fellow and settle down in the Village of Morality. It would be a good place to raise a family, for living was cheap there and they would have honest, well-behaved people as neighbors — people who lived by the Ten Commandments. More than a little tempted by this, Christian decides that he should at least have a look at Morality. But along the way he is stopped by his friend Evangelist, who berates him sharply for having listened to anything Mr. Worldly Wiseman might have to say. If Christian is seriously interested in saving his soul, he would be well advised to get back as quickly as possible on the path to the Wicket Gate which Evangelist had pointed out to him before. Wicket Gate. Arriving almost out of breath, Christian reads the sign on the gate: "Knock and it shall be opened unto you." He knocks a number of times before arousing the gatekeeper, a "grave person" named Good-will, who comes out to ask what Christian wants. After the latter has explained his mission, he is let through the gate, which opens on the Holy Way, a straight and narrow path leading toward the Celestial City. Christian asks if he can now be relieved of the heavy burden — a sack filled with his sins and woes — that he has been carrying on his back for so long. Good-will replies that he cannot help him, but that if all goes well, Christian will be freed of his burden in due course. Interpreter's House. On Good-will's advice, Christian makes his first stop at the large house of Interpreter, a character symbolizing the Holy Spirit. Interpreter shows his guest a number of "excellent things." These include a portrait of the ideal pastor with the Bible in his hand and a crown of gold on his head; a dusty parlor which is like the human heart before it is cleansed with the Gospel; a sinner in an iron cage, an apostate doomed to suffer the torments of Hell through all eternity; a wall with a fire burning against it. A figure (the Devil himself) is busily throwing water on the fire to put it out. But he would never succeed, Interpreter explains, because the fire represents the divine spirit in the human heart and a figure on the far side of the wall keeps the fire burning brightly by secretly pouring oil on it — "the oil of Christ's Grace." The Cross. Beyond Interpreter's House, Christian comes to the Cross, which stands on higher ground beside the Holy Way. Below it, at the foot of the gentle slope, is an open sepulcher. When Christian stops by the Cross, the burden on his back suddenly slips from his shoulders, rolls down the slope, and falls into the open sepulcher, to be seen no more. As Christian stands weeping with joy, three Shining Ones (angels) appear. They tell him all his sins are now forgiven, give him bright new raiment to replace his old ragged clothes, and hand him a parchment, "a Roll with a seal upon it." For his edification and instruction, Christian is to read the Roll as he goes along, and when he reaches the Pearly Gates, he is to present it as his credentials a sort of passport to Heaven, as it were. Difficulty Hill. The Holy Way beyond the Cross is fenced in with a high wall on either side. The walls have been erected to force all aspiring Pilgrims to enter the Holy Way in the proper manner, through the Wicket Gate. As Christian is passing along, two men — Formalist and Hypocrisy — climb over the wall and drop down beside him. Christian finds fault with this and gives the wall-jumpers a lecture on the dangers of trying shortcuts. They have been successfully taking shortcuts all their lives, the intruders reply, and all will go well this time. Not too pleased with his company, Christian proceeds with Hypocrisy and Formalist to the foot of Difficulty Hill, where three paths join and they must make a choice. One path goes straight ahead up the steep slope of the hill; another goes around the base of the hill to the right; the third, around the hill to the left. Christian argues that the right path is the one leading straight ahead up Difficulty Hill. Not liking the prospect of much exertion, Formalist and Hypocrisy decide to take the easier way on the level paths going around the hill. Both get lost and perish. Halfway up Difficulty Hill, so steep in places that he has to inch forward on hands and knees, Christian comes to a pleasant arbor provided for the comfort of weary Pilgrims. Sitting down to rest, Christian reaches into his blouse and takes out his precious Roll. While reading it, he drops off to sleep, being awakened when he hears a voice saying sternly: "Go to the ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise." Jumping up, Christian makes with all speed to the top of the hill, where he meets two Pilgrims coming toward him — Timorous and Mistrust. They have been up ahead, they say, and there are lions there. They are giving up their pilgrimage and returning home, and unsuccessfully try to persuade Christian to come with them. Their report about the lions disturbs Christian, who reaches into his blouse to get his Roll so that he may read it and be comforted. To his consternation, the Roll is not there. Carefully searching along the way, Christian retraces his steps to the arbor, where, as he recalls, he had been reading the Roll when he allowed himself to doze off in "sinful sleep." Not finding his treasure immediately, he sits down and weeps, considering himself utterly undone by his carelessness in losing "his pass into the Celestial City." When in deepest despair, he chances to see something lying half-covered in the grass. It is his precious Roll, which he tucks away securely in his blouse. Having offered a prayer of thanks "to God for directing his eye to the place where it lay," Christian wearily climbs back to the top of Difficulty Hill. From there he sees a stately building and as it is getting on toward dark, hastens there. Palace Beautiful. A narrow path leads off the Holy Way to the lodge in front of Palace Beautiful. Starting up the path, Christian sees two lions, stops, and turns around as if to retreat. The porter at the lodge, Watchful, who has been observing him, calls out that there is nothing to be afraid of if one has faith. The lions are chained, one on either side of the path, and anyone with faith can pass safely between them if he keeps carefully to the middle of the path, which Christian does. Arriving at the lodge, he asks if he can get lodging for the night. The porter, Watchful, replies that he will find out from those in charge of Palace Beautiful. Soon, four virgins come out to the lodge, all of them "grave and beautiful damsels": Discretion, Prudence, Piety, and Charity. Satisfied with Christian's answers to their questions, they invite him in, introduce him to the rest of the family, serve him supper, and assign him to a beautiful bedroom — Peace — for the night. Next morning, the virgins show him the "rarities" of the place: First, the library, filled with ancient documents dating back to the beginning of time; next, the armory, packed with swords, shields, helmets, breastplates, and other things sufficient to equip all servants of the Lord, even if they were as numerous as the stars in the sky. Leading their guest to the roof of the palace, the virgins point to mountains in the distance — the Delectable Mountains, which lie on the way to the Celestial City. Before allowing Christian to depart, the virgins give him arms and armor to protect himself during the next stretch of his journey, which they warn will be dangerous. Valley of Humiliation. Here Christian is attacked and almost overcome by a "foul fiend" named Apollyon — a hideous monster with scales like a fish, wings like a dragon, mouth like a lion, and feet like a bear; flames and smoke belch out of a hole in his belly. Christian, after a painful struggle, wounds the fiend with his sword and drives him off. Valley of the Shadow of Death. This is a wilderness, a land of deserts and pits, inhabited only by yowling hobgoblins and other dreadful creatures. The path here is very narrow, edged on one side by a deep, water-filled ditch in which many have drowned; on the other side, by a treacherous bog. Walking carefully, Christian goes on and soon finds himself close to the open mouth of Hell, the Burning Pit, out of which comes a cloud of noxious fumes, long fingers of fire, showers of sparks, and hideous noises. With flames flickering all around and smoke almost choking him, Christian manages to get through by use of "All-prayer." Nearing the end of the valley, he hears a shout raised by someone up ahead: "Though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I will fear none ill, for Thou art with me." As only a Pilgrim could have raised that cry, Christian hastens forward to see who it might be. To his surprise and delight he finds that it is an old friend, Faithful, one of his neighbors in the City of Destruction. Vanity Fair. Happily journeying together, exchanging stories about their adventures and misadventures, the two Pilgrims come to the town of Vanity Fair, through which they must pass. Interested only in commerce and money-making, the town holds a year-round fair at which all kinds of things are bought and sold — "houses, lands, trades, titles, . . . lusts, pleasures, . . . bodies, souls, silver, gold, pearls, precious stones, and what not." Christian and Faithful infuriate the merchandisers by turning up their noses at the wares offered them, saying that they would buy nothing but the Truth. Their presence and their attitude cause a hubbub in the town, which leads the authorities to jail them for disturbing the peace. The prisoners conduct themselves so well that they win the sympathy of many townspeople, producing more strife and commotion in the streets, and the prisoners are held responsible for this, too, though they have done nothing. It is decided to indict them on the charge of disrupting trade, creating dissension, and treating with contempt the customs and laws laid down for the town by its prince, old Beelzebub himself. Brought to trial first, Faithful is convicted and sentenced to be executed in the manner prescribed by the presiding judge, Lord Hate-good. The hapless Faithful is scourged, brutally beaten, lanced with knives, stoned, and then burned to ashes at the stake. Thus, he becomes another of the Christian martyrs assured of enjoying eternal bliss up on high. Doubting Castle and Giant Despair. In a manner only vaguely explained, Christian gets free and goes on his way — but not alone, for he has been joined by Hopeful, a native of Vanity Fair who is fleeing in search of better things. After a few minor adventures, the two reach a sparkling stream, the River of the Water of Life, which meanders through beautiful meadows bright with flowers. For a time the Holy Way follows the river bank but then veers off into rougher ground which is hard on the sore tired feet of the travelers. Wishing there were an easier way, they plod along until they come to another meadow behind a high fence. Having climbed the fence to have a look, Christian persuades Hopeful that they should move over into By-path Meadow, where there is a soft grassy path paralleling theirs. Moving along, they catch up with Vain-confidence, who says that he is bound for the Celestial City and knows the way perfectly. Night comes on, but he continues to push ahead briskly, with Christian and Hopeful following. Suddenly, the latter hear a frightened cry and a loud thud. Vain-confidence has been dashed to pieces by falling into a deep pit dug by the owner of the meadow. Christian and Hopeful retreat, but as they can see nothing in the dark, they decide to lie down in the meadow to pass the night. Next morning, they are surprised and seized by the prince of By-path Meadow, a giant named Despair. Charging them with malicious trespassing, he hauls them to his stronghold, Doubting Castle, and throws them into a deep dark dungeon, where they lie for days without food or drink. At length, Giant Despair appears, beats them almost senseless, and advises them to take their own lives so that he will not have to come back to finish them off himself. When all seems hopeless, Christian suddenly brightens up, "as one half amazed," and exclaims: "What a fool am I, thus to lie in a stinking dungeon when I may as well walk at liberty. I have a key in my bosom called Promise which will (I am persuaded) open any lock in Doubting Castle." Finding that the magic key works, the prisoners are soon out in the open and running as fast as they can to get back onto the Holy Way, where they erect a sign warning other Pilgrims against being tempted by the apparent ease of traveling by way of By-path Meadow. Delectable Mountains. Christian and Hopeful next come to the Delectable Mountains, where they find gardens, orchards, vineyards, and fountains of water. Four shepherds — Experience, Knowledge, Watchful, and Sincere — come to greet them, telling them that the mountains are the Lord's, as are the flocks of sheep grazing there. Having been escorted around the mountains and shown the sights there, the two Pilgrims on the eve of their departure receive from the shepherds a paper instructing them on what to do and what to avoid on the journey ahead. For one thing, they should not lie down and sleep in the Enchanted Ground, for that would be fatal. Country of Beulah. This is a happy land where the sun shines day and night, flowers bloom continuously, and the sweet and pleasant air is filled with bird-song. There is no lack of grain and wine. Christian and Hopeful stop to rest and enjoy themselves here, pleased that the Celestial City is now within sight, which leads them to assume that the way there is now clear. Dark River. Proceeding, they are amazed when they come to the Dark River, a wide, swift-flowing stream. They look around for a bridge or boat on which to cross. A Shining One appears and tells them that they must make their way across as best they can, that fording the river is a test of faith, that those with faith have nothing to fear. Wading into the river, Hopeful finds firm footing, but Christian does not He is soon floundering in water over his head, fearing that he will be drowned, that he will never see "the land that flows with milk and honey." Hopeful helps Christian by holding his head above water, and the two finally achieve the crossing. Celestial City. On the far side of the river, two Shining Ones are waiting for the Pilgrims and take them by the arm to assist them in climbing the steep slope to the Celestial City, which stands on a "mighty hill . . . higher than the clouds." Coming to the gate of the city, built all of precious stones, Christian and Hopeful present their credentials, which are taken to the King (God). He orders the gate to be opened, and the two weary but elated Pilgrims go in, to find that the streets are paved with gold and that along them walk many men with crowns on their heads and golden harps in their hands.

Blackburn’s drawing. Blackburn's "one-off predicament" of communicating without a shared language illustrates how Grice's theory can be applied to iconic signals such as the drawing of a skull to wam of danger. See his Spreading the Word. III. 112.

bonum: Old Romans did not have an article, so for them it is unum, bonum, verum, and pulchrum. They were trying to translate the very articled Grecian things, ‘to agathon,’ ‘to alethes,’ and ‘to kallon.’ The three references given by Liddell and Scott are good ones. τὸ ἀ., the good, Epich.171.5, cf. Pl.R.506b, 508e, Arist.Metaph.1091a31, etc. The Grecian Grice is able to return to the ‘article’. Grice has an early essay on ‘the good,’ and he uses the same expression at Oxford for the Locke lectures when looking for a ‘desiderative’ equivalent to ‘the true.’ Hare had dedicated the full part of his “Language of Morals” to ‘good,’ so Grice is well aware of the centrality of the topic. He was irritated by what he called a performatory approach to the good, where ‘x is good’ =df. ‘I approve of x.’ Surely that’s a conversational implicatum. However, in his analysis of reasoning (the demonstratum – since he uses the adverb ‘demonstrably’ as a marker of pretty much like ‘concusively,’ as applied to both credibility and desirability, we may focus on what Grice sees as ‘bonum’ as one of the ‘absolutes,’ the absolute in the desirability realm, as much as the ‘verum’ is the absolute in the credibility realm. Grice has an excellent argument regarding ‘good.’ His example is ‘cabbage,’ but also ‘sentence.’ Grice’s argument is to turn the disimpicatum into an explicitum. To know what a ‘cabbage,’ or a formula is, you need to know first what a ‘good’ cabbage is or a ‘well-formed formula,’ is. An ill-formed sentence is not deemed by Grice a sentence. This means that we define ‘x’ as ‘optimum x.’ This is not so strange, seeing that ‘optimum’ is actually the superlative of ‘bonum’ (via the comparative). It does not require very sharp eyes, but only the willingness to use the eyes one has, to see that our speech and thought are permeated with the notion of purpose; to say what a certain kind of thing is is only too frequently partly to say what it is for. This feature applies to our talk and thought of, for example, ships, shoes, sealing wax, and kings; and, possibly and perhaps most excitingly, it extends even to cabbages.“There is a range of cases in which, so far from its being the case that, typically, one first learns what it is to be a F and then, at the next stage, learns what criteria distinguish a good F from a F which is less good, or not good at all, one needs first to learn what it is to be a good F, and then subsequently to learn what degree of approximation to being a good F will qualify an item as a F; if the gap between some item x and good Fs is sufficently horrendous, x is debarred from counting as a F at all, even as a bad F.”“In the John Locke Lectures, I called a concept which exhibits this feature as a ‘value-paradeigmatic’ concept. One example of a value-paradeigmatic concept is the concept of reasoning; another, I now suggest, is that of sentence. It may well be that the existence of value-oriented concepts (¢b ¢ 2 . • • . ¢n) depends on the prior existence of pre-rational concepts ( ¢~, ¢~ . . . . ¢~), such that an item x qualifies for the application of the concept ¢ 2 if and only if x satisfies a rationally-approved form or version of the corresponding pre-rational concept ¢'. We have a (primary) example of a step in reasoning only if we have a transition of a certain rationally approved kind from one thought or utterance to another.

bootstrap: a principle introduced by Grice in “Prejudices and predilections; which become, the life and opinions of H. P. Grice,” to limit the power of the meta-language. The weaker your metalanguage the easier you’ll be able to pull yourself by your own bootstraps. He uses bootlaces in “Metaphysics, Philosophical Eschatology, and Plato’s Republic.”

byzantine. How Byzantine can Grice feel. Does feeling Byzantine entail a feeling of BEING Byzantine? originally used of the style of art and architecture developed there 4c.-5c. C.E.; later in reference to the complex, devious, and intriguing character of the royal court of Constantinople (1937). Bȳzantĭum , ii, n., = Βυζάντιον,I.a city in Thrace, on the Bosphorus, opposite the Asiatic Chalcedon, later Constantinopolis, now Constantinople; among the Turks, Istamboul or Stamboul (i.e. εις τὴν πόλιν), Mel. 2, 2, 6; Plin. 4, 11, 18, § 46; 9, 15, 20, § 50 sq.; Nep. Paus. 2, 2; Liv. 38, 16, 3 sq.; Tac. A. 12, 63 sq.; id. H. 2. 83; 3, 47 al.—II. Derivv.A. Bȳzantĭus , a, um, adj., of Byzantium, Byzantine: “litora,” the Strait of Constantinople, Ov. Tr. 1, 10, 31: “portus,” Plin. 9, 15, 20, § 51.—Subst.: Bȳ-zantĭi , ōrum, m., the inhabitants of Byzantium, Cic. Prov. Cons. 3, 5; 4, 6 sq.; Cic. Verr. 2, 2, 31, § 76; Nep. Timoth. 1, 2; Liv. 32, 33, 7.—B. Bȳzantĭăcus , a, um, adj., of Byzantium: “lacerti,” Stat. S. 4, 9, 13. — C. Bȳzantīnus , a, um, adj., the same (post-class.): “Lygos,” Aus. Clar. Urb. 2: “frigora,” Sid. Ep. 7, 17.

captainship. Strawson calls Grice his captain. In the inaugural lecture. . A struggle on what seems to be such a From Meaning and Truth (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1970) TRUTH AND MEANING central issue in philosophy should have something of a Homeric quality; and a Homeric struggle calls for gods and heroes. I can at least, though tentatively, name some living captains and benevolent shades: on the one side, say, Grice, Austin, and the later Wittgenstein; on the other, Chomsky, Frege, and the earlier Wittgenstein.

category of conversational mode: a pun on Aristkant’s Kategorie (Ammonius, tropos, Boëthius, modus, Kant Modalitat). Gesichtspuncte der Modalität in assertorische, apodiktische und problematische hat sich aus der Aristotelischen Eintheilung hervorgebildet (Anal. Dr. 1, 2): 7@ợc gócois atv n 100 incozy h kỹ kvayxns Úndozav û toù {VJÉZEo fai Úndozev: Doch geht diese Aristotelische Stelle vielmehr auf die analogen objectiven Verhältnisse, als auf den subjectiven Gewissheitsgrad. Der Zusatz Svvatóv, įvsezóuevov, és åviyans, jedoch auch eine adverbiale Bestimmung wie taméws in dem Satze ý σελήνη ταχέως αποκαθίσταται, heisst bei Ammonius τρόπος (zu περί ερμ. Cap. 12) und bei Boëthius modus. Kant (Kritik der r. Vern. § 9-11; Prolegom. $ 21, Log. § 30) gründet die Eintheilung nach der Modalität auf die modalen Kategorien: Möglichkeit und Unmöglichkeit, Dasein und Nichtsein, Nothwendigkeit und Zufälligkeit, wobei jedoch die Zusammenstellung der Unmöglichkeit, die eine negative Nothwendigkeit ist, mit der Möglichkeit, und ebenso der Zufälligkeit, die das nicht als nothwendig erkannte Dasein bezeichnet, mit der Nothwendigkeit eine Ungenauigkeit enthält: die Erkenntniss der Unmöglichkeit ist nicht ein problematisches, sondern ein (negativ-) apodiktisches Urtheil (was Kant in der Anwendung selbst anerkennt, indem er z. B. Krit. der r. V. S. 191 die Formel: es ist unmöglich etc. als Ausdruck einer apodiktischen Gewissheit betrachtet), und die Erkenntniss des Zufälligen ist nicht ein apodiktisches, sondern ein assertorisches Urtheil. Ausserdem aber hat Kant das subjective und objective Element in den Kategorien der Qualität und Modalität nicht bestimmt genug unterschieden.

category of conversational quality: a pun on Aristkan’s Kategorie, poiotes, qualitas, Qualitat.  Expressions which are in no way composite signify substance, quantity, quality, relation, place, time, position, state, action, or affection. To sketch my meaning roughly, examples of substance are 'man' or 'the horse', of quantity, such terms as 'two cubits long' or 'three cubits long', of quality, such attributes as 'white', 'grammatical'.

category of conversational quantity: ua pun on Ariskant’s Kategorie, posotes, quantitas, Quantitat. Expressions which are in no way composite signify substance, quantity, quality, relation, place, time, position, state, action, or affection. To sketch my meaning roughly, examples of substance are 'man' or 'the horse', of quantity, such terms as 'two cubits long' or 'three cubits long'

category of conversational relation: a pun on Ariskant’s Kategorie (pros ti, ad aliquid, Relation). Expressions which are in no way composite signify substance, quantity, quality, relation, place, time, position, state, action, or affection. To sketch my meaning roughly, examples of substance are 'man' or 'the horse', of quantity, such terms as 'two cubits long' or 'three cubits long', of quality, such attributes as 'white', 'grammatical'. 'Double', 'half', 'greater', fall under the category of relation.

causatum: causation figures large in Grice, notably re: the perceptum. The agent perceives that the pillar box is red. The cause is that the pillar box is red. Out of that, Grice constructs a whole theory of conversation. Why would someone just report what a THING SEEMS to him when he has no doubt that it was THE THING that caused the thing to SEEM red to him? Applying some sort of helpfulness, it works: the addressee is obviously more interested in what the thing IS, not what it seems. A sense-datum is not something you can eat. An apple is. So, the assumption is that a report of what a thing IS is more relevant than a report about what a thing SEEMS. So,  Grice needs to find a rationale that justifies, ceteris paribus, the utterance of “The thing seems phi.” Following helpfulness, U utters “The thing seems phi” when the U is not in a position to say what the thing IS phi. The denial, “The thing is not phi” is in the air, and also the doubt, “The thing may not be phi.” Most without a philosophical background who do not take Grice’s joke of echoing Kant’s categories (Kant had 12, not 4!) play with quantitas, qualitas, relatio and modus. Grice in “Causal” uses ‘weak’ and ‘strong’ but grants he won’t ‘determine’ in what way ‘the thing seems phi’ is ‘weaker’ than ‘the thing is phi.’ It might well be argued that it’s STRONGER: the thing SEEEMS TO BE phi.’ In the previous “Introduction to Logical Theory,” Strawson just refers to Grice’s idea of a ‘pragmatic rule’ to the effect that one utter the LOGICALLY stronger proposition. Let’s revise dates. Whereas Grice says that his confidence in the success of “Causal,” he ventured with Strawson’s “Intro,” Strawson is citing Grice already. Admittedly, Strawson adds, “in a different context.” But Grice seems pretty sure that “The thing seems phi” is WEAKER than “The thing is phi.” In 1961 he is VERY CLEAR that while what he may have said to Strawson that Strawson reported in that footnote was in terms of LOGICAL STRENGTH (in terms of entailment, for extensional contexts). In “Causal,” Grice is clear that he does not think LOGICAL STRENGTH applies to intensional contexts. In later revisions, it is not altogether clear how he deals with the ‘doubt or denial.’ He seems to have been more interested in refuting G. A. Paul (qua follower of Witters) than anything else. In his latest reformulation of the principle, now a conversational category, he is not specific about phenomenalist reports.

ceteris  paribus. Strawson and Wiggins: that the principle holds ceteris paribus is a necessary condition for the very existence of the activity in question. Central.

chiliagon: referred to by Grice in “Some remarks about the senses.’ In geometry, a chiliagon, or 1000-gon is a polygon with 1,000 sides. Philosophers commonly refer to chiliagons to illustrate ideas about the nature and workings of thought, meaning, and mental representation. A chiliagon is a regular chiliagon Polygon 1000.svg A regular chiliagon Type Regular polygon Edges and vertices 1000 Schläfli symbol {1000}, t{500}, tt{250}, ttt{125} Coxeter diagram CDel node 1.pngCDel 10.pngCDel 0x.pngCDel 0x.pngCDel node.png CDel node 1.pngCDel 5.pngCDel 0x.pngCDel 0x.pngCDel node 1.png Symmetry group Dihedral (D1000), order 2×1000 Internal angle (degrees) 179.64° Dual polygon Self Properties Convex, cyclic, equilateral, isogonal, isotoxal  A whole regular chiliagon is not visually discernible from a circle. The lower section is a portion of a regular chiliagon, 200 times as large as the smaller one, with the vertices highlighted. In geometry, a chiliagon (/ˈkɪliəɡɒn/) or 1000-gon is a polygon with 1,000 sides. Philosophers commonly refer to chiliagons to illustrate ideas about the nature and workings of thought, meaning, and mental representation.   Contents 1 Regular chiliagon 2 Philosophical application 3 Symmetry 4 Chiliagram 5 See also 6 References Regular chiliagon A regular chiliagon is represented by Schläfli symbol {1,000} and can be constructed as a truncated 500-gon, t{500}, or a twice-truncated 250-gon, tt{250}, or a thrice-truncated 125-gon, ttt{125}.  The measure of each internal angle in a regular chiliagon is 179.64°. The area of a regular chiliagon with sides of length a is given by  {\displaystyle A=250a^{2}\cot {\frac {\pi }{1000}}\simeq 79577.2\,a^{2}}A=250a^{2}\cot {\frac  {\pi }{1000}}\simeq 79577.2\,a^{2} This result differs from the area of its circumscribed circle by less than 4 parts per million.  Because 1,000 = 23 × 53, the number of sides is neither a product of distinct Fermat primes nor a power of two. Thus the regular chiliagon is not a constructible polygon. Indeed, it is not even constructible with the use of neusis or an angle trisector, as the number of sides is neither a product of distinct Pierpont primes, nor a product of powers of two and three.  Philosophical application René Descartes uses the chiliagon as an example in his Sixth Meditation to demonstrate the difference between pure intellection and imagination. He says that, when one thinks of a chiliagon, he "does not imagine the thousand sides or see them as if they were present" before him – as he does when one imagines a triangle, for example. The imagination constructs a "confused representation," which is no different from that which it constructs of a myriagon (a polygon with ten thousand sides). However, he does clearly understand what a chiliagon is, just as he understands what a triangle is, and he is able to distinguish it from a myriagon. Therefore, the intellect is not dependent on imagination, Descartes claims, as it is able to entertain clear and distinct ideas when imagination is unable to. Philosopher Pierre Gassendi, a contemporary of Descartes, was critical of this interpretation, believing that while Descartes could imagine a chiliagon, he could not understand it: one could "perceive that the word 'chiliagon' signifies a figure with a thousand angles [but] that is just the meaning of the term, and it does not follow that you understand the thousand angles of the figure any better than you imagine them."[2]  The example of a chiliagon is also referenced by other philosophers, such as Immanuel Kant. David Hume points out that it is "impossible for the eye to determine the angles of a chiliagon to be equal to 1996 right angles, or make any conjecture, that approaches this proportion."[4] Gottfried Leibniz comments on a use of the chiliagon by John Locke, noting that one can have an idea of the polygon without having an image of it, and thus distinguishing ideas from images. Henri Poincaré uses the chiliagon as evidence that "intuition is not necessarily founded on the evidence of the senses" because "we can not represent to ourselves a chiliagon, and yet we reason by intuition on polygons in general, which include the chiliagon as a particular case."  Inspired by Descartes's chiliagon example, Grice, R. M. Chisholm and other 20th-century philosophers have used similar examples to make similar points. Chisholm's ‘speckled hen,’ which need not have a determinate number of speckles to be successfully imagined, is perhaps the most famous of these. Symmetry  The symmetries of a regular chiliagon. Light blue lines show subgroups of index 2. The 4 boxed subgraphs are positionally related by index 5 subgroups. The regular chiliagon has Dih1000 dihedral symmetry, order 2000, represented by 1,000 lines of reflection. Dih100 has 15 dihedral subgroups: Dih500, Dih250, Dih125, Dih200, Dih100, Dih50, Dih25, Dih40, Dih20, Dih10, Dih5, Dih8, Dih4, Dih2, and Dih1. It also has 16 more cyclic symmetries as subgroups: Z1000, Z500, Z250, Z125, Z200, Z100, Z50, Z25, Z40, Z20, Z10, Z5, Z8, Z4, Z2, and Z1, with Zn representing π/n radian rotational symmetry.  John Conway labels these lower symmetries with a letter and order of the symmetry follows the letter.[8] He gives d (diagonal) with mirror lines through vertices, p with mirror lines through edges (perpendicular), i with mirror lines through both vertices and edges, and g for rotational symmetry. a1 labels no symmetry.  These lower symmetries allow degrees of freedom in defining irregular chiliagons. Only the g1000 subgroup has no degrees of freedom but can be seen as directed edges.  Chiliagram A chiliagram is a 1,000-sided star polygon. There are 199 regular forms[9] given by Schläfli symbols of the form {1000/n}, where n is an integer between 2 and 500 that is coprime to 1,000. There are also 300 regular star figures in the remaining cases.  For example, the regular {1000/499} star polygon is constructed by 1000 nearly radial edges. Each star vertex has an internal angle of 0.36 degrees.[10]  {1000/499} Star polygon 1000-499.svg Star polygon 1000-499 center.png Central area with moiré patterns See also Myriagon Megagon Philosophy of Mind Philosophy of Language References  Meditation VI by Descartes (English translation).  Sepkoski, David (2005). "Nominalism and constructivism in seventeenth-century mathematical philosophy". Historia Mathematica. 32: 33–59. doi:10.1016/j.hm.2003.09.002.  Immanuel Kant, "On a Discovery," trans. Henry Allison, in Theoretical Philosophy After 1791, ed. Henry Allison and Peter Heath, Cambridge UP, 2002 [Akademie 8:121]. Kant does not actually use a chiliagon as his example, instead using a 96-sided figure, but he is responding to the same question raised by Descartes.  David Hume, The Philosophical Works of David Hume, Volume 1, Black and Tait, 1826, p. 101.  Jonathan Francis Bennett (2001), Learning from Six Philosophers: Descartes, Spinoza, Leibniz, Locke, Berkeley, Hume, Volume 2, Oxford University Press, ISBN 0198250924, p. 53.  Henri Poincaré (1900) "Intuition and Logic in Mathematics" in William Bragg Ewald (ed) From Kant to Hilbert: A Source Book in the Foundations of Mathematics, Volume 2, Oxford University Press, 2007, ISBN 0198505361, p. 1015.  Roderick Chisholm, "The Problem of the Speckled Hen", Mind 51 (1942): pp. 368–373. "These problems are all descendants of Descartes's 'chiliagon' argument in the sixth of his Meditations" (Joseph Heath, Following the Rules: Practical Reasoning and Deontic Constraint, Oxford: OUP, 2008, p. 305, note 15).  The Symmetries of Things, Chapter 20  199 = 500 cases − 1 (convex) − 100 (multiples of 5) − 250 (multiples of 2) + 50 (multiples of 2 and 5)  0.36 = 180 (1 - 2 /(1000 / 499) ) = 180 ( 1 – 998 / 1000 ) = 180 ( 2 / 1000 ) = 180 / 500 chiliagon vte Polygons (List) Triangles Acute Equilateral Ideal IsoscelesObtuseRight Quadrilaterals Antiparallelogram Bicentric CyclicEquidiagonalEx-tangentialHarmonic Isosceles trapezoidKiteLambertOrthodiagonal Parallelogram Rectangle Right kite Rhombus Saccheri SquareTangentialTangential trapezoidTrapezoid By number of sides Monogon (1) Digon (2) Triangle (3) Quadrilateral (4) Pentagon (5) Hexagon (6) Heptagon (7) Octagon (8) Nonagon (Enneagon, 9) Decagon (10) Hendecagon (11) Dodecagon (12) Tridecagon (13) Tetradecagon (14) Pentadecagon (15) Hexadecagon (16) Heptadecagon (17) Octadecagon (18) Enneadecagon (19)Icosagon (20)Icosihenagon [de] (21)Icosidigon (22) Icositetragon (24) Icosihexagon (26) Icosioctagon (28) Triacontagon (30) Triacontadigon (32) Triacontatetragon (34) Tetracontagon (40) Tetracontadigon (42)Tetracontaoctagon (48)Pentacontagon (50) Pentacontahenagon [de] (51) Hexacontagon (60) Hexacontatetragon (64) Heptacontagon (70)Octacontagon (80) Enneacontagon (90) Enneacontahexagon (96) Hectogon (100) 120-gon257-gon360-gonChiliagon (1000) Myriagon (10000) 65537-gonMegagon (1000000) 4294967295-gon [ru; de]Apeirogon (∞) Star polygons Pentagram Hexagram Heptagram Octagram Enneagram Decagram Hendecagram Dodecagram Classes Concave Convex Cyclic Equiangular Equilateral Isogonal Isotoxal Pseudotriangle Regular Simple SkewStar-shaped Tangential Categories: Polygons1000 (number)

communicatum: One who likes ‘communication’ is refined Strawson (I’m using refined as J. Barnes does it, “turn Plato into refined Strawson”). Both in his rat-infested example and at the inaugural lecture at Oxford. Grice, for one, has given us reason to think that, with sufficient care, and far greater refinement than I have indicated, it is possible to expound such a concept of communication-intention or, as he calls it, utterer's meaning, which is proof against objection.  it is a commonplace that Grice belongs, as most philosophers of the twentieth century, to the movement of the linguistic turn. Short and Lewis have “commūnĭcare,” earlier “conmunicare,” f. communis, and thus sharing the prefix with “conversare.” Now “communis” is an interesting lexeme that Grice uses quite centrally in his idea of the ‘common ground’ – when a feature of discourse is deemed to have been assigned ‘common-ground status.’ “Communis” features the “cum-” prefix, commūnis (comoinis); f. “con” and root “mu-,” to bind; Sanscr. mav-; cf.: immunis, munus, moenia. The ‘communicatum’ (as used by Tammelo in  social philosophy) may well cover what Grice would call the total ‘significatio,’ or ‘significatum.’ Grice takes this seriously. Let us start then by examining what we mean by ‘linguistic,’ or ‘communication.’ It is curious that while most Griceians overuse ‘communicative’ as applied to ‘intention,’ Grice does not. Communicator’s intention, at most. This is the Peirce in Grice’s soul. Meaning provides an excellent springboard for Grice to centre his analysis on psychological or soul-y verbs as involving the agent and the first person: smoke only figuratively means fire, and the expression smoke only figuratively (or metabolically) means that there is fire. It is this or that utterer (say, Grice) who means, say, by uttering Where theres smoke theres fire, or ubi fumus, ibi ignis, that where theres smoke theres fire. A means something by uttering x, an utterance-token is roughly equivalent to utterer U intends the utterance of x to produce some effect in his addressee A by means of the recognition of this intention; and we may add that to ask what U means is to ask for a specification of the intended effect - though, of course, it may not always be possible to get a straight answer involving a that-clause, for example, a belief that  He does provide a more specific example involving the that-clause at a later stage. By uttering x, U means that-ψ­_b-dp ≡ (Ǝφ)(Ǝf)(Ǝc) U utters x  intending x to be such that anyone who has φ think that x has f, f is correlated in way c with ψ-ing that p, and (Ǝφ') U intends x to be such that anyone who has φ' think, via thinking that x has f and that f is correlated in way c with ψ-ing that p, that U ψ-s that p, and in view of (Ǝφ') U intending x to be such that anyone who has φ' think, via thinking that x has f, and f is correlated in way c with ψ-ing that p, that U ψ-s that p, U ψ-s that p, and, for some substituends of ψ_b-d, U utters x intending that, should there actually be anyone who has φ, he will, via thinking in view of (Ǝφ') U intending x to be such that anyone who has φ' think, via thinking that x has f, and  f is correlated in way c with ψ-ing that p, that U ψ-s that p, U ψ-s that p himself ψ that p, and it is not the case that, for some inference element E, U intends x to be such that anyone who has φ both rely on E in coming to ψ, or think that U ψ-s, that p and  think that (Ǝφ) U intends x to be such that anyone who has φ come to ψ (or think that U ψ-s) that p without relying on E. Besides St. John The Baptist, and Salome, Grice cites few Namess in Meaning. But he makes a point about Stevenson! For Stevenson, smoke means fire. Meaning develops out of an interest by Grice on the philosophy of Peirce. In his essays on Peirce, Grice quotes from many other authors, including, besides Peirce himself (!), Ogden, Richards, and Ewing, or A. C. Virtue is not a fire-shovel Ewing, as Grice calls him, and this or that cricketer. In the characteristic Oxonian fashion of a Lit. Hum., Grice has no intention to submit Meaning to publication. Publishing is vulgar. Bennett, however, guesses that Grice decides to publish it just a year after his Defence of a dogma. Bennett’s argument is that Defence of a dogma pre-supposes some notion of meaning. However, a different story may be told, not necessarily contradicting Bennetts. It is Strawson who submits the essay by Grice to The Philosophical Review (henceforth, PR) Strawson attends Grices talk on Meaning for The Oxford Philosophical Society, and likes it. Since In defence of a dogma was co-written with Strawson, the intention Bennett ascribes to Grice is Strawsons. Oddly, Strawson later provides a famous alleged counter-example to Grice on meaning in Intention and convention in speech acts, following J. O. Urmson’s earlier attack to the sufficiency of Grices analysans -- which has Grice dedicating a full James lecture (No. 5) to it. there is Strawsons rat-infested house for which it is insufficient. An interesting fact, that confused a few, is that Hart quotes from Grices Meaning in his critical review of Holloway for The Philosophical Quarterly. Hart quotes Grice pre-dating the publication of Meaning. Harts point is that Holloway should have gone to Oxford! In Meaning, Grice may be seen as a practitioner of ordinary-language philosophy: witness his explorations of the factivity (alla know, remember, or see) or lack thereof of various uses of to mean. The second part of the essay, for which he became philosophically especially popular, takes up an intention-based approach to semantic notions. The only authority Grice cites, in typical Oxonian fashion, is, via Ogden and Barnes, Stevenson, who, from The New World (and via Yale, too!) defends an emotivist theory of ethics, and making a few remarks on how to mean is used, with scare quotes, in something like a causal account (Smoke means fire.). After its publication Grices account received almost as many alleged counterexamples as rule-utilitarianism (Harrison), but mostly outside Oxford, and in The New World. New-World philosophers seem to have seen Grices attempt as reductionist and as oversimplifying. At Oxford, the sort of counterexample Grice received, before Strawson, was of the Urmson-type: refined, and subtle. I think your account leaves bribery behind. On the other hand, in the New World ‒ in what Grice calls the Latter-Day School of Nominalism, Quine is having troubles with empiricism. Meaning was repr. in various collections, notably in Philosophical Logic, ed. by Strawson. It should be remembered that it is Strawson who has the thing typed and submitted for publication. Why Meaning should be repr. in a collection on Philosophical Logic only Strawson knows. But Grice does say that his account may help clarify the meaning of entails! It may be Strawsons implicature that Parkinson should have repr. (and not merely credited) Meaning by Grice in his series for Oxford on The theory of meaning. The preferred quotation for Griceians is of course The Oxford Philosophical Society quote, seeing that Grice recalled the exact year when he gave the talk for the Philosophical Society at Oxford! It is however, the publication in The Philosophi, rather than the quieter evening at the Oxford Philosophical Society, that occasioned a tirade of alleged counter-examples by New-World philosophers. Granted, one or two Oxonians ‒ Urmson and Strawson ‒ fell in! Urmson criticises the sufficiency of Grices account, by introducing an alleged counter-example involving bribery. Grice will consider a way out of Urmsons alleged counter-example in his fifth Wiliam James Lecture, rightly crediting and thanking Urmson for this! Strawsons alleged counter-example was perhaps slightly more serious, if regressive. It also involves the sufficiency of Grices analysis. Strawsons rat-infested house alleged counter-example started a chain which required Grice to avoid, ultimately, any sneaky intention by way of a recursive clause to the effect that, for utterer U to have meant that p, all meaning-constitutive intentions should be above board. But why this obsession by Grice with mean? He is being funny. Spots surely dont mean, only mean.They dont have a mind. Yet Grice opens with a specific sample. Those spots mean, to the doctor, that you, dear, have measles. Mean? Yes, dear, mean, doctors orders. Those spots mean measles. But how does the doctor know? Cannot he be in the wrong? Not really, mean is factive, dear! Or so Peirce thought. Grice is amazed that Peirce thought that some meaning is factive. The hole in this piece of cloth means that a bullet went through is is one of Peirce’s examples. Surely, as Grice notes, this is an unhappy example. The hole in the cloth may well have caused by something else, or fabricated. (Or the postmark means that the letter went through the post.) Yet, Grice was having Oxonian tutees aware that Peirce was krypto-technical. Grice chose for one of his pre-Meaning seminars on Peirce’s general theory of signs, with emphasis on general, and the correspondence of Peirce and Welby. Peirce, rather than the Vienna circle, becomes, in vein with Grices dissenting irreverent rationalism, important as a source for Grices attempt to English Peirce. Grices implicature seems to be that Peirce, rather than Ayer, cared for the subtleties of meaning and sign, never mind a verificationist theory about them! Peirce ultra-Latinate-cum-Greek taxonomies have Grice very nervous, though. He knew that his students were proficient in the classics, but still. Grice thus proposes to reduce all of Peirceian divisions and sub-divisions (one sub-division too many) to mean. In the proceedings, he quotes from Ogden, Richards, and Ewing. In particular, Grice was fascinated by the correspondence of Peirce with Lady Viola Welby, as repr. by Ogden/Richards in, well, their study on the meaning of meaning. Grice thought the science of symbolism pretentious, but then he almost thought Lady Viola Welby slightly pretentious, too, if youve seen her; beautiful lady. It is via Peirce that Grice explores examples such as those spots meaning measles. Peirce’s obsession is with weathercocks almost as Ockham was with circles on wine-barrels. Old-World Grices use of New-World Peirce is illustrative, thus, of the Oxonian linguistic turn focused on ordinary language. While Peirce’s background was not philosophical, Grice thought it comical enough. He would say that Peirce is an amateur, but then he said the same thing about Mill, whom Grice had to study by heart to get his B. A. Lit. Hum.! Plus, as Watson commented, what is wrong with amateur? Give me an amateur philosopher ANY day, if I have to choose from professional Hegel! In finding Peirce krypo-technical, Grice is ensuing that his tutees, and indeed any Oxonian philosophy student (he was university lecturer) be aware that to mean should be more of a priority than this or that jargon by this or that (New World?) philosopher!? Partly! Grice wanted his students to think on their own, and draw their own conclusions! Grice cites Ewing, Ogden/Richards, and many others. Ewing, while Oxford-educated, had ended up at Cambridge (Scruton almost had him as his tutor) and written some points on Meaninglessness! Those spots mean measles. Grice finds Peirce krypto-technical and proposes to English him into an ordinary-language philosopher. Surely it is not important whether we consider a measles spot a sign, a symbol, or an icon. One might just as well find a doctor in London who thinks those spots symbolic. If Grice feels like Englishing Peirce, he does not altogether fail! meaning, reprints, of Meaning and other essays, a collection of reprints and offprints of Grices essays. Meaning becomes a central topic of at least two strands in Retrospective epilogue. The first strand concerns the idea of the centrality of the utterer. What Grice there calls meaning BY (versus meaning TO), i.e. as he also puts it, active or agents meaning. Surely he is right in defending an agent-based account to meaning. Peirce need not, but Grice must, because he is working with an English root, mean, that is only figurative applicable to non-agentive items (Smoke means rain). On top, Grice wants to conclude that only a rational creature (a person) can meanNN properly. Non-human animals may have a correlate. This is a truly important point for Grice since he surely is seen as promoting a NON-convention-based approach to meaning, and also defending from the charge of circularity in the non-semantic account of propositional attitudes. His final picture is a rationalist one. P₁ G wants to communicate about a danger to P₂. This presupposes there IS a danger (item of reality). Then P₁ G believes there is a danger, and communicates to P₂ G2 that there is a danger. This simple view of conversation as rational co-operation underlies Grices account of meaning too, now seen as an offshoot of philosophical psychology, and indeed biology, as he puts it. Meaning as yet another survival mechanism. While he would never use a cognate like significance in his Oxford Philosophical Society talk, Grice eventually starts to use such Latinate cognates at a later stage of his development. In Meaning, Grice does not explain his goal. By sticking with a root that the Oxford curriculum did not necessarily recognised as philosophical (amateur Peirce did!), Grice is implicating that he is starting an ordinary-language botanising on his own repertoire! Grice was amused by the reliance by Ewing on very Oxonian examples contra Ayer: Surely Virtue aint a fire-shovel is perfectly meaningful, and if fact true, if, Ill admit, somewhat misleading and practically purposeless at Cambridge. Again, the dismissal by Grice of natural meaning is due to the fact that natural meaning prohibits its use in the first person and followed by a that-clause. ‘I mean-n that p’ sounds absurd, no communication-function seems in the offing, there is no ‘sign for,’ as Woozley would have it. Grice found, with Suppes, all types of primacy (ontological, axiological, psychological) in utterers meaning. In Retrospective epilogue, he goes back to the topic, as he reminisces that it is his suggestion that there are two allegedly distinguishable meaning concepts, even if one is meta-bolical, which may be called natural meaning and non-natural meaning. There is this or that test (notably factivity-entailment vs. cancelation, but also scare quotes) which may be brought to bear to distinguish one concept from the other. We may, for example, inquire whether a particular occurrence of the predicate mean is factive or non-factive, i. e., whether for it to be true that [so and so] means that p, it does or does not have to be the case that it is true that p. Again, one may ask whether the use of quotation marks to enclose the specification of what is meant would be inappropriate or appropriate. If factivity, as in know, remember, and see, is present and quotation marks, oratio recta, are be inappropriate, we have a case of natural meaning. Otherwise the meaning involved is non-natural meaning. We may now ask whether there is a single overarching idea which lies behind both members of this dichotomy of uses to which the predicate meaning that seems to be Subjects. If there is such a central idea it might help to indicate to us which of the two concepts is in greater need of further analysis and elucidation and in what direction such elucidation should proceed. Grice confesses that he has only fairly recently come to believe that there is such an overarching idea and that it is indeed of some service in the proposed inquiry. The idea behind both uses of mean is that of consequence, or consequentia, as Hobbes has it. If x means that p, something which includes p or the idea of p, is a consequence of x. In the metabolic natural use of meaning that p, p, this or that consequence, is this or that state of affairs. In the literal, non-metabolic, basic, non-natural use of meaning that p, (as in Smith means that his neighbour’s three-year child is an adult), p, this or that consequence is this or that conception or complexus which involves some other conception. This perhaps suggests that of the two concepts it is, as it should, non-natural meaning which is more in need of further elucidation. It seems to be the more specialised of the pair, and it also seems to be the less determinate. We may, e. g., ask how this or that conception enters the picture. Or we may ask whether what enters the picture is the conception itself or its justifiability. On these counts Grice should look favorably on the idea that, if further analysis should be required for one of the pair, the notion of non-natural meaning would be first in line. There are factors which support the suitability of further analysis for the concept of non-natural meaning. Meaning_NN that p (non-natural meaning) does not look as if it Namess an original feature of items in the world, for two reasons which are possibly not mutually independent. One reason is that, given suitable background conditions, meaning, can be changed by fiat. The second reason is that the presence of meaning_NN is dependent on a framework provided by communication, if that is not too circular.  Communication is in the philosophical lexicon. Lewis and Short have “commūnĭcātĭo,” f. communicare,"(several times in Cicero, elsewhere rare), and as they did with negatio and they will with significatio, Short and Lewis render, unhelpfully, as a making common, imparting, communicating. largitio et communicatio civitatis;” “quaedam societas et communicatio utilitatum,” “consilii communicatio, “communicatio sermonis,” criminis cum pluribus; “communicatio nominum, i. e. the like appellation of several objects; “juris; “damni; In rhetorics, communicatio, trading on the communis, a figure, translating Grecian ἀνακοίνωσις, in accordance with which the utterer turns to his addressee, and, as it were, allows him to take part in the inquiry. It seems to Grice, then, at least reasonable and possibly even emphatically mandatory, to treat the claim that a communication vehicle, such as this and that expression means that p, in this transferred, metaphoric, or meta-bolic use of means that as being reductively analysable in terms of this or that feature of this or that utterer, communicator, or user of this or that expression. The use of meaning that as applied to this or that expression is posterior to and explicable through the utterer-oriented, or utterer-relativised use, i.e. involving a reference to this or that communicator or user of this or that expression. More specifically, one should license a metaphorical use of mean, where one allows the claim that this or that expression means that p, provided that this or that utterer, in this or that standard fashion, means that p, i.e. in terms of this or that souly statee toward this or that propositional complexus this or that utterer ntends, in a standardly fashion, to produce by his uttering this or that utterance. That this or that expression means (in this metaphorical use) that p is thus explicable either in terms of this or that souly state which is standardly intended to produce in this or that addressee A by this or that utterer of this or that expression, or in this or that souly staken up by this or that utterer toward this or that activity or action of this or that utterer of this or that expression. Meaning was in the air in Oxfords linguistic turn. Everybody was talking meaning. Grice manages to quote from Hares early “Mind” essay on the difference between imperatives and indicatives, also Duncan-Jones on the fugitive proposition,  and of course his beloved Strawson. Grice was also concerned by the fact that in the manoeuvre of the typical ordinary-language philosopher, there is a constant abuse of mean. Surely Grice wants to stick with the utterers meaning as the primary use. Expressions mean only derivatively. To do that, he chose Peirce to see if he could clarify it with meaning that. Grice knew that the polemic was even stronger in London, with Ogden and Lady Viola Welby. In the more academic Oxford milieu, Grice knew that a proper examination of meaning, would lead him, via Kneale and his researches on the history of semantics, to the topic of signification that obsessed the modistae (and their modus significandi). For what does L and S say about about this? This is Grice’s reply to popular Ogden. They want to know what the meaning of meaning is? Here is the Oxononian response by Grice, with a vengeance. Grice is not an animist nor a mentalist, even modest.  While he allows for natural phenomena to mean (smoke means fire), meaning is best ascribed to some utterer, where this meaning is nothing but the intentions behind his utterance. This is the fifth James lecture. Grice was careful enough to submit it to PR, since it is a strictly philosophical development of the views expressed in Meaning which Strawson had submitted on Grice’s behalf to the same Review and which had had a series of responses by various philosophers. Among these philosophers is Strawson himself in Intention and convention in the the theory of speech acts, also in PR. Grice quotes from very many other philosophers in this essay, including: Urmson, Stampe, Strawson, Schiffer, and Searle. Strawson is especially relevant since he started a series of alleged counter-examples with his infamous example of the rat-infested house. Grice particularly treasured Stampes alleged counter-example involving his beloved bridge! Avramides earns a D. Phil Oxon. on that, under Strawson! This is Grices occasion to address some of the criticisms ‒ in the form of alleged counter-examples, typically, as his later reflections on epagoge versus diagoge note  ‒ by Urmson, Strawson, and other philosophers associated with Oxford, such as Searle, Stampe, and Schiffer. The final analysandum is pretty complex (of the type that he did find his analysis of I am hearing a sound complex in Personal identity  ‒ hardly an obstacle for adopting it), it became yet another target of attack by especially New-World philosophers in the pages of Mind, Nous, and other journals, This is officially the fifth James lecture. Grice takes up the analysis of meaning he had presented way back at the Oxford Philosophical Society. Motivated mainly by the attack by Urmson and by Strawson in Intention and convention in speech acts, that offered an alleged counter-example to the sufficiency of Grices analysis, Grice ends up introducing so many intention that he almost trembled. He ends up seeing meaning as a value-paradeigmatic concept, perhaps never realisable in a sublunary way. But it is the analysis in this particular essay where he is at his formal best. He distinguishes between protreptic and exhibitive utterances, and also modes of correlation (iconic, conventional). He symbolises the utterer and the addressee, and generalises over the type of psychological state, attitude, or stance, meaning seems to range (notably indicative vs. imperative). He formalises the reflexive intention, and more importantly, the overtness of communication in terms of a self-referential recursive intention that disallows any sneaky intention to be brought into the picture of meaning-constitutive intentions. Grice thought he had dealt with Logic and conversation enough! So he feels of revising his Meaning. After all, Strawson had had the cheek to publish Meaning by Grice and then go on to criticize it in Intention and convention in speech acts. So this is Grices revenge, and he wins! He ends with the most elaborate theory of mean that an Oxonian could ever hope for. And to provoke the informalists such as Strawson (and his disciples at Oxford – led by Strawson) he pours existential quantifiers like the plague! He manages to quote from Urmson, whom he loved! No word on Peirce, though, who had originated all this! His implicature: Im not going to be reprimanted in informal discussion about my misreading Peirce at Harvard! The concluding note is about artificial substitutes for iconic representation, and meaning as a human institution. Very grand. This is Grices metabolical projection of utterers meaning to apply to anything OTHER than utterers meaning, notably a token of the utterers expression and a TYPE of the utterers expression, wholly or in part. Its not like he WANTS to do it, he NEEDS it to give an account of implicatum. The phrase utterer is meant to provoke. Grice thinks that speaker is too narrow. Surely you can mean by just uttering stuff! This is the sixth James lecture, as published in “Foundations of Language” (henceforth, “FL”), or “The foundations of language,” as he preferred. As it happens, it became a popular lecture, seeing that Searle selected this from the whole set for his Oxford reading in philosophy on the philosophy of language. It is also the essay cited by Chomsky in his influential Locke lectures. Chomsky takes Grice to be a behaviourist, even along Skinners lines, which provoked a reply by Suppes, repr. in PGRICE. In The New World, the H. P. is often given in a more simplified form. Grice wants to keep on playing. In Meaning, he had said x means that p is surely reducible to utterer U means that p. In this lecture, he lectures us as to how to proceed. In so doing he invents this or that procedure: some basic, some resultant. When Chomsky reads the reprint in Searles Philosophy of Language, he cries: Behaviourist! Skinnerian! It was Suppes who comes to Grices defence. Surely the way Grice uses expressions like resultant procedure are never meant in the strict behaviourist way. Suppes concludes that it is much fairer to characterise Grice as an intentionalist. Published in FL, ed. by Staal, Repr.in Searle, The Philosophy of Language, Oxford, the sixth James Lecture, FL, resultant procedure, basic procedure. Staal asked Grice to publish the sixth James lecture for a newish periodical publication of whose editorial board he was a member. The fun thing is Grice complied! This is Grices shaggy-dog story. He does not seem too concerned about resultant procedures. As he will ll later say, surely I can create Deutero-Esperanto and become its master! For Grice, the primacy is the idiosyncratic, particularized utterer in this or that occasion. He knows a philosopher craves for generality, so he provokes the generality-searcher with divisions and sub-divisions of mean. But his heart does not seem to be there, and he is just being overformalistic and technical for the sake of it. I am glad that Putnam, of all people, told me in an aside, you are being too formal, Grice. I stopped with symbolism since! 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, which should be the preferred citation. The date 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, 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 modified Occam’s 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 the meaning by the utterer to the meaning by the expression. 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 keeps, meaningfully, changing the order. It is not arbitrary that the fascinating exploration by Grice 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. Stevenson is right when using scare quotes for smoke ‘meaning’ fire utterance. Grice is 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 Pology. While he knows his audience is not philosophical ‒ it is not Oxford ‒ he thinks they still may get some entertainment! We have a P 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 it is 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 at a later stage, too! And he meant it! Surely, there is no way to understand the stages of Grice’s development of his ideas about meaning 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 Humpty-Dumpty m-intends that it and Alice are to change the topic. 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. However, since he kept rewriting, one has to be careful. These seven folder 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 a suggestion by Bennett 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. 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. 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. It is interesting to review the Names index to the volume, as well as the Subjects index. This is a huge collection, comprising 14 folders. By contract, Grice was engaged with Harvard, since it is the President of the 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. WOW is 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. Grice explores Aristotle’s “to alethes”: “For the true and the false exist with respect to synthesis and division (peri gar synthesin kai diaireisin esti to pseudos kai to alethes).” Aristotle insists upon the com-positional form of truth in several texts: cf. De anima, 430b3 ff.: “in truth and falsity, there is a certain composition (en hois de kai to pseudos kai to alethes, synthesis tis)”; cf. also Met. 1027b19 ff.: the true and the false are with respect to (peri) composition and decomposition (synthesis kai diaresis).” 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 on 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. 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 BA 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. 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 “Logical Theory.” Early on, Hart quotes Grice on meaning in his review in The Philosophical Quarterly of Holloways Language and Intelligence before Meaning had been published. Obviously, once Grice and Strawson, In defense of a dogma and Grice, Meaning are published by The Philosophical Review, Grice is discussed profusely. References to the implicatum start to appear in the literature at Oxford in the mid-1960s, within the playgroup, 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! The way to search the Grice Papers here is using alternate keywords, notably “meaning.” “Meaning” s. II, “Utterer’s meaning and intentions,” s. II, “Utterer’s meaning, sentence-meaning, and word meaning,” s. II, “Meaning revisited,” s. II. – but also “Meaning and psychology,” s. V, c.7-ff.  24-25. While Grice uses “signification,” and lectured on Peirce’s “signs,” “Peirce’s general theory of signs,” (s. V, c. 8-f. 29), he would avoid such pretentiously sounding expressions. Searching under ‘semantic’ and ‘semantics’ (“Grammar and semantics,” c. 7-f. 5; “Language semantics,” c. 7-f.20, “Basic Pirotese, sentence semantics and syntax,” c. 8-f. 30, “Semantics of children’s language,” c. 9-f. 10, “Sentence semantics” (c. 9-f. 11); “Sentence semantics and propositional complexes,” c. 9-f.12, “Syntax and semantics,” c. 9-ff. 17-18) may help, too. Folder on Schiffer (“Schiffer,” c. 9-f. 9), too.

commitment: Grice’s commitment to the 39 Articles. An utterer is committed to those and only those entities to which the bound variables of his utterance must be capable of referring in order that the utterance made be true.” Cf. Grice on substitutional quantification for his feeling Byzantine, and ‘gap’ sign in the analysis.

common-ground status assignment: Strwson and Wiggins view that this is only tentative for Grice. the regulations for common-ground assignment have to do with general rational constraints on conversation. Grice is clear in “Causal,” and as Strawson lets us know, he was already clear in “Introduction” when talking of a ‘pragmatic rule.’ Strawson states the rule in terms of making your conversational contribution the logically strongest possible. If we abide by an imperative of conversational helpfulness, enjoining the maximally giving and receiving of information and the influencing and being influenced by others in the institution of a decisions, the sub-imperative follows to the effect, ‘Thou shalt NOT make a weak move compared to the stronger one that thou canst truthfully make, and with equal or greater economy of means.’“Causal” provides a more difficult version, because it deals with non-extensional contexts where ‘strong’ need not be interpreted as ‘logical strength’ in terms of entailment. Common ground status assignment springs from the principle of conversational helpfulness or conversational benevolence. What would be the benevolent point of ‘informing’ your addressee what you KNOW your addressee already knows? It is not even CONCEPTUALLY possible. You are not ‘informing’ him if you are aware that he knows it. So, what Strawson later calls the principle of presumption of ignorance and the principle of the presumption of knowledge are relevant. There is a balance between the two. If Strawson asks Grice, “Is the king of France bald?” Grice is entitled to assume that Strawson thinks two things Grice will perceive as having been assigned a ‘common-ground’ status as uncontroversial topic not worth conversing about. First, Strawson thinks that there is one king. (∃x)Fx. Second, Strawson thinks that there is at most one king. (x)(y)((Fx.Fy)⊃ x=y). That the king is bald is NOT assigned common-ground status, because Grice cannot expect that Strawson thinks that Grice KNOWS that. Grice symbolises the common-ground status by means of subscripts. He also uses square-bracekts, so that anything within the scope of the square brackets is immune to controversy, or as Grice also puts it, conversationally _inert_: things we don’t talk about.

complexum: the topic is essential in seeing Grice within the British empiricist tradition. Empiricists always loved a simplex, like ‘red.’ In his notes on ‘Meaning’ and “Peirce,’ Grice notes that for a ‘simplex’ like “red,” the best way to deal with it is via a Russellian function, ‘x is red.’ The opposite of ‘simplex’ is of course a ‘complexum.’ hile Grice does have an essay on the ‘complexum,’ he is mostly being jocular. His dissection of the proposition proceds by considering ‘the a,’ and its denotatum, or reference, and ‘is the b,’ which involves then the predication. This is Grice’s shaggy-dog story. Once we have ‘the dog is shaggy,’ we have a ‘complexum,’ and we can say that the utterer means, by uttering ‘Fido is shaggy,’ that the dog is hairy-coated. Simple, right? It’s the jocular in Grice. He is joking on philosophers who look at those representative of the linguistic turn, and ask, “So what do you have to say about reference and predication,’ and Grice comes up with an extra-ordinary analysis of what is to believe that the dog is hairy-coat, and communicating it. In fact, the ‘communicating’ is secondary. Once Grice has gone to metabolitical extension of ‘mean’ to apply to the expression, communication becomes secondary in that it has to be understood in what Grice calls the ‘atenuated’ usage involving this or that ‘readiness’ to have this or that procedure, basic or resultant, in one’s repertoire! 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. Grice explored the matter of subperception at Oxford only with G. J. Warnock. Refs.: The main reference is in ‘Reply to Richards.’ But there is “Sentence semantics and propositional complexes,” c. 9-f. 12, BANC.

conatum: ... (orme) the technical Stoic definition of πάθος, viz. as a particular kind of conation, or impulse (ορμή). ... 4 ' This definition (amorem ipsum conatum amicitiae faeiendae ex ... emotion and moral self-management in Galen's philosophical psychology', ..cōnātum , i, usu. in plur.: cōnāta , ōrum, n., v. conor.. The term is used by an the Wilde Reader at Oxford, that Grice once followed – until he became a neo-Prichardian instead.(philosophy) The power or act which directs or impels to effort of any kind, whether muscular or psychical. quotations 1899, George Frederick Stout, A Manual of Psychology, page 234:Any pleasing sense-experience, when it has once taken place, will, on subsequent occasions, give rise to a conation, when its conditions are only partially repeated...

conceptum: Grice obviously uses Frege’s notion of a ‘concept.’ One of Grice’s metaphysical routines is meant to produce a logical construction of a concept or generate a new concept. Aware of the act/product distinction, Grice distinguishes between the conceptum, or concept, and the conception, or conceptio. Grice allows that ‘not’ may be a ‘concept,’ so he is not tied to the ‘equine’ idea by Frege of the ‘horse.’ Since an agent can fail to conceive that his neighbour’s three-year old is an adult, Grice accepts that ‘conceives’ may take a ‘that’-clause. In ‘ordinary’ language, one does not seem to refer, say, to the concept that e = mc2, but that may be a failure or ‘ordinary’ language. In the canonical cat-on-the-mat, we have Grice conceiving that the cat is on the mat, and also having at least four concepts: the concept of ‘cat,’ the concept of ‘mat,’ the concept of ‘being on,’ and the concept of the cat being on the mat.

conditionalis: This is an interesting Latinism. For those in the know, it’s supposed to translate ‘hypothetical,’ that Grice also uses. But literally, the transliteration of ‘hypothetica’ is ‘sub-positio,’ i.e. ‘suppositio,’ so infamous in the Dark Ages! So one has to be careful. For some reason, Boethius disliked ‘suppositio,’ and preferred to add to the Latinate philosophical vocabulary, with ‘conditionalis,’ the hypothetical, versus the categoric, become the ‘conditionale.’ And the standard was not the Diodoran, but the Philonian, also known, after Whitehead, as the ‘implicatio materialis.’ While this sounds scholastic, it isn’t. Cicero may have used ‘implicatio materialis.’ But Whitehead’s and Russell’s motivation is a different one. They start with the ‘material’, by which they mean a proposition WITH A TRUTH VALUE. For implication that does not have this restriction, they introduce ‘implicatio formalis,’ or ‘formal implication.’ In their adverbial ways, it goes p formally implies q.  trictly, propositio conditionalis: vel substitutive, versus propositio praedicativa in Apuleius.  Classical Latin condicio was confused in Late Latin with conditio "a making," from conditus, past participle of condere "to put together." The sense evolution in Latin apparently was from "stipulation" to "situation, mode of being." Grice lists ‘if’ as the third binary functor in his response to Strawson. The relations between “if” and “⊃” have already, but only in part, been discussed. 1 The sign “⊃” is called the Material Implication sign a name I shall consider later. Its meaning is given by the rule that any statement of the form ‘p⊃q’ is false in the case in which the first of its constituent statements is true and the second false, and is true in every other case considered in the system; i. e., the falsity of the first constituent statement or the truth of the second are, equally, sufficient conditions of the truth of a statement of material implication ; the combination of truth in the first with falsity in the second is the single, necessary and sufficient, condition (1 Ch. 2, S. 7) of its falsity. The standard or primary -- the importance of this qualifying phrase can scarcely be overemphasized. There are uses of “if … then … ”  which do not answer to the description given here,, or to any other descriptions given in this chapter -- use of an  “if … then …” sentence, on the other hand, we saw to be in circumstances where, not knowing whether some statement which could be made by the use of a sentence corresponding in a certain way to the first clause of the hypothetical is true or not, or believing it to be false, we nevertheless consider that a step in reasoning from that statement to a statement related in a similar way to the second clause would be a sound or reasonable step ; the second statement also being one of whose truth we are in doubt, or which we believe to be false. Even in such circumstances as these we may sometimes hesitate to apply the word ‘true’ to hypothetical statements (i.e., statements which could be made by the use of “if ... then …,” in its standard significance), preferring to call them reasonable or well-founded ; but if we apply ‘true’ to them at all, it will be in such circumstances as these. Now one of the sufficient conditions of the truth of a statement of material implication may very well be fulfilled without the conditions for the truth, or reasonableness, of the corresponding hypothetical statement being fulfilled ; i.e., a statement of the form ‘p⊃q’ does not entail the corresponding statement of the form “if p then q.” But if we are prepared to accept the hypothetical statement, we must in consistency be prepared to deny the conjunction of the statement corresponding to the first clause of the sentence used to make the hypothetical statement with the negation of the statement corresponding to its second clause ; i.e., a statement of the form “if p then q” does entail the corresponding statement of the form ‘p⊃q.’ The force of “corresponding” needs elucidation. Consider the three following very ordinary specimens of hypothetical sentences. If the Germans had invaded England in 1940, they would have won the war. If Jones were in charge, half the staff would have been dismissed. If it rains, the match will be cancelled. The sentences which could be used to make statements corresponding in the required sense to the subordinate clauses can be ascertained by considering what it is that the speaker of each hypothetical sentence must (in general) be assumed either to be in doubt about or to believe to be not the case. Thus, for (1) to (8), the corresponding pairs of sentences are as follows. The Germans invaded England in 1940; they won the war. Jones is in charge; half the staff has been dismissed. It will rain; the match will be cancelled. Sentences which could be used to make the statements of material implication corresponding to the hypothetical statements made by these sentences can now be framed from these pairs of sentences as follows. The Germans invaded England in 1940 ⊃ they won the war. Jones is in charge ⊃ half the staff has been, dismissed. It will rain ⊃ the match will be cancelled. The very fact that these verbal modifications are necessary, in order to obtain from the clauses of the hypothetical sentence the clauses of the corresponding material implication sentence is itself a symptom of the radical difference between hypothetical statements and truth-functional statements. Some detailed differences are also evident from these examples. The falsity of a statement made by the use of ‘The Germans invaded England in 1940’ or ‘Jones is in charge’ is a sufficient condition of the truth of the corresponding statements made by the use of (Ml) and (M2) ; but not, of course, of the corresponding statements made by the use of (1) and (2). Otherwise, there would normally be no point in using sentences like (1) and (2) at all; for these sentences would normally carry – but not necessarily: one may use the pluperfect or the imperfect subjunctive when one is simply working out the consequences of an hypothesis which one may be prepared eventually to accept -- in the tense or mood of the verb, an implication of the utterer's belief in the falsity of the statements corresponding to the clauses of the hypothetical. It is not raining is sufficient to verify a statement made by the use of (MS), but not a statement made by the use of (3). Its not raining Is also sufficient to verify a statement made by the use of “It will rain ⊃ the match will not be cancelled.” The formulae ‘p revise ⊃q’ and ‘q revise⊃ q' are consistent with one another, and the joint assertion of corresponding statements of these forms is equivalent to the assertion of the corresponding statement of the form * *-~p. But “If it rains, the match will be cancelled” is inconsistent with “If it rains, the match will not be cancelled,” and their joint assertion in the same context is self-contradictory. Suppose we call the statement corresponding to the first clause of a sentence used to make a hypothetical statement the antecedent of the hypothetical statement; and the statement corresponding to the second clause, its consequent. It is sometimes fancied that whereas the futility of identifying conditional statements with material implications is obvious in those cases where the implication of the falsity of the antecedent is normally carried by the mood or tense of the verb (e.g., (I) or (2)), there is something to be said for at least a partial identification in cases where no such implication is involved, i.e., where the possibility of the truth of both antecedent and consequent is left open (e.g., (3). In cases of the first kind (‘unfulfilled’ or ‘subjunctive’ conditionals) our attention is directed only to the last two lines of the truth-tables for * p ⊃ q ', where the antecedent has the truth-value, falsity; and the suggestion that ‘~p’ entails ‘if p, then q’ is felt to be obviously wrong. But in cases of the second kind we may inspect also the first two lines, for the possibility of the antecedent's being fulfilled is left open; and the suggestion that ‘p . q’ entails ‘if p, then q’ is not felt to be obviously wrong. This is an illusion, though engendered by a reality. The fulfilment of both antecedent and consequent of a hypothetical statement does not show that the man who made the hypothetical statement was right; for the consequent might be fulfilled as a result of factors unconnected with, or in spite of, rather than because of, the fulfilment of the antecedent. We should be prepared to say that the man who made the hypothetical statement was right only if we were also prepared to say that the fulfilment of the antecedent was, at least in part, the explanation of the fulfilment of the consequent. The reality behind the illusion is complex : en. 3 it is, partly, the fact that, in many cases, the fulfilment of both antecedent and consequent may provide confirmation for the view that the existence of states of affairs like those described by the antecedent is a good reason for expecting states of affairs like those described by the consequent ; and it is, partly, the fact that a man whosays, for example, 4 If it rains, the match will be cancelled * makes a prediction (viz.. that the match will be cancelled) under a proviso (viz., that it rains), and that the cancellation of the match because of the rain therefore leads us to say, not only that the reasonableness of the prediction was confirmed, but also that the prediction itself was confirmed. Because a statement of the form “p⊃q” does not entail the corresponding statement of the form ' if p, then q ' (in its standard employment), we shall expect to find, and have found, a divergence between the rules for '⊃' and the rules for ' if J (in its standard employment). Because ‘if p, then q’ does entail ‘p⊃q,’ we shall also expect to find some degree of parallelism between the rules; for whatever is entailed by ‘p "3 q’ will be entailed by ‘if p, then q,’ though not everything which entails ‘p⊃q’ will entail ‘if p, then q.’ Indeed, we find further parallels than those which follow simply from the facts that ‘if p, then q’ entails ‘p⊃q’ and that entailment is transitive. To laws (19)-(23) inclusive we find no parallels for ‘if.’ But for (15) (p⊃j).JJ⊃? (16) (P ⊃q).~qZ)~p (17) p'⊃q s ~q1)~p (18) (?⊃j).(? ⊃r) ⊃ (p⊃r) we find that, with certain reservations, 1 the following parallel laws hold good : (1 The reservations are important. It is, e. g., often impossible to apply entailment-rule (iii) directly without obtaining incorrect or absurd results. Some modification of the structure of the clauses of the hypothetical is commonly necessary. But formal logic gives us no guide as to which modifications are required. If we apply rule (iii) to our specimen hypothetical sentences, without modifying at all the tenses or moods of the individual clauses, we obtain expressions which are scarcely English. If we preserve as nearly as possible the tense-mood structure, in the simplest way consistent with grammatical requirements, we obtain the sentences : If the Germans had not won the war, they would not have invaded England in 1940.) If half the staff had not been dismissed, Jones would not be in charge. If the match is not cancelled, it will not rain. But these sentences, so far from being logically equivalent to the originals, have in each case a quite different sense. It is possible, at least in some such cases, to frame sentences of more or less the appropriate pattern for which one can imagine a use and which do stand in the required logical relationship to the original sentences (e.g., ‘If it is not the case that half the staff has been dismissed, then Jones can't be in charge;’ or ‘If the Germans did not win the war, it's only because they did not invade England in 1940;’ or even (should historical evidence become improbably scanty), ‘If the Germans did not win the war, it can't be true that they invaded England in 1940’). These changes reflect differences in the circumstances in which one might use these, as opposed to the original, sentences. Thus the sentence beginning ‘If Jones were in charge …’ would normally, though not necessarily, be used by a man who antecedently knows that Jones is not in charge : the sentence beginning ‘If it's not the case that half the staff has been dismissed …’ by a man who is working towards the conclusion that Jones is not in charge. To say that the sentences are nevertheless logically equivalent is to point to the fact that the grounds for accepting either, would, in different circumstances, have been grounds for accepting the soundness of the move from ‘Jones is in charge’ to ‘Half the staff has been dismissed.’)  (i) (if p, then q; and p)^q (ii) (if p, then qt and not-g) Dnot-j? (iii) (if p, then f) ⊃ (if not-0, then not-j?) (iv) (if p, then f ; and iff, then r) ⊃(if j>, then r) (One must remember that calling the formulae (i)-(iv) is the same as saying that, e.g., in the case of (iii), c if p, then q ' entails 4 if not-g, then not-j> '.) And similarly we find that, for some steps which would be invalid for 4 if ', there are corresponding steps that would be invalid for “⊃,”  e. g.  (p^q).q :. p are invalid inference-patterns, and so are if p, then q ; and q /. p if p, then ; and not-j? /. not-f .The formal analogy here may be described by saying that neither * p 13 q ' nor * if j?, then q * is a simply convertible formula. We have found many laws (e.g., (19)-(23)) which hold for “⊃” and not for “if.” As an example of a law which holds for “if,”  but not for “⊃,” we may give the analytic formula “ ~[(if p, then q) * (if p, then not-g)]’. The corresponding formula 4 ~[(P 3 ?) * (j? 3 ~?}]’ is not analytic, but (el (28)) is equivalent to the contingent formula ‘~~p.’ The rules to the effect that formulae such as (19)-{23) are analytic are sometimes referred to as ‘paradoxes of implication.’ This is a misnomer. If ‘⊃’ is taken as identical either with ‘entails’ or, more widely, with ‘if  ... then …’ in its standard use, the rules are not paradoxical, but simply incorrect. If ‘⊃’ is given the meaning it has in the system of truth functions, the rules are not paradoxical, but simple and platitudinous consequences of the meaning given to the symbol. Throughout this section, I have spoken of a ‘primary or standard’ use of “if … then …,” or “if,” of which the main characteristics were: that for each hypothetical statement made by this use of “if,” there could be made just one statement which would be the antecedent of the hypothetical and just one statement which would be its consequent; that the hypothetical statement is acceptable (true, reasonable) if the antecedent statement, if made or accepted, would, in the circumstances, be a good ground or reason for accepting the consequent statement; and that the making of the hypothetical statement carries the implication either of uncertainty about, or of disbelief in, the fulfilment of both antecedent and consequent. (1 Not all uses of * if ', however, exhibit all these characteristics. In particular, there is a use which has an equal claim to rank as standard and which is closely connected with the use described, but which does not exhibit the first characteristic and for which the description of the remainder must consequently be modified. I have in mind what are sometimes called 'variable' or 'general’ hypothetical : e.g., ‘lf ice is left in the sun, it melts,’ ‘If the side of a triangle is produced, the exterior angle is equal to the sum of the two interior and opposite angles ' ; ' If a child is very strictly disciplined in the nursery, it will develop aggressive tendencies in adult life,’ and so on. To a statement made by the use of a sentence such as these there corresponds no single pair of statements which are, respectively, its antecedent and consequent. On the other 1 There is much more than this to be said about this way of using ‘if;’ in particular, about the meaning of the question whether the antecedent would be a good ground or reason for accepting the consequent and about the exact way in which this question is related to the question of whether the hypothetical is true {acceptable, reasonable) or not hand, for every such statement there is an indefinite number of non-general hypothetical statements which might be called exemplifications, applications, of the variable hypothetical; e.g., a statement made by the use of the sentence ‘If this piece of ice is left in the sun, it will melt.’ To the subject of variable hypothetical I may return later. 1 Two relatively uncommon uses of ‘if’ may be illustrated respectively by the sentences ‘If he felt embarrassed, he showed no signs of it’ and ‘If he has passed his exam, I’m a Dutchman (I'll eat my hat, &c.)’ The sufficient and necessary condition of the truth of a statement made by the first is that the man referred to showed no sign of embarrassment. Consequently, such a statement cannot be treated either as a standard hypothetical or as a material implication. Examples of the second kind are sometimes erroneously treated as evidence that ‘if’ does, after all, behave somewhat as ‘⊃’ behaves. The evidence for this is, presumably, the facts (i) that there is no connexion between antecedent and consequent; (ii) that the consequent is obviously not (or not to be) fulfilled ; (iii) that the intention of the speaker is plainly to give emphatic expression to the conviction that the antecedent is not fulfilled either ; and (iv) the fact that “(p ⊃ q) . ~q” entails “~p.” But this is a strange piece of logic. For, on any possible interpretation, “if p then q” has, in respect of (iv), the same logical powers as ‘p⊃q;’ and it is just these logical powers that we are jokingly (or fantastically) exploiting. It is the absence of connexion referred to in (i) that makes it a quirk, a verbal flourish, an odd use of ‘if.’ If hypothetical statements were material implications, the statements would be not a quirkish oddity, but a linguistic sobriety and a simple truth. Finally, we may note that ‘if’  can be employed not simply in making statements, but in, e.g., making provisional announcements of intention (e.g., ‘If it rains, I shall stay at home’) which, like unconditional announcements of intention, we do not call true or false but describe in some other way. If the man who utters the quoted sentence leaves home in spite of the rain, we do not say that what he said was false, though we might say that he lied (never really intended to stay in) ; or that he changed his mind. There are further uses of ‘if’ which I shall not discuss. 1 v. ch. 7, I. The safest way to read the material implication sign is, perhaps, ‘not both … and not …’ The material equivalence sign ‘≡’ has the meaning given by the following definition : p q =df=⊃/'(p⊃ff).(sOj)' and the phrase with which it is sometimes identified, viz., ‘if and only if,’ has the meaning given by the following definition: ‘p if and only if q’ =df ‘if p then g, and if q then p.’ Consequently, the objections which hold against the identification of ‘p⊃q” with ‘if p then q’ hold with double force against the identification of “p≡q’ with ‘p if and only if q.’ ‘If’ is of particular interest to Grice. The interest in the ‘if’ is double in Grice. In doxastic contexts, he needs it for his analysis of ‘intending’ against an ‘if’-based dispositional (i.e. subjective-conditional) analysis. He is of course, later interested in how Strawson misinterpreted the ‘indicative’ conditional! It is later when he starts to focus on the ‘buletic’ mode marker, that he wants to reach to Paton’s categorical (i.e. non-hypothetical) imperative. And in so doing, he has to face the criticism of those Oxonian philosophers who were sceptical about the very idea of a conditional buletic (‘conditional command – what kind of a command is that?’. Grice would refere to the protasis, or antecedent, as a relativiser – where we go again to the ‘absolutum’-‘relativum’ distinction. The conditional is also paramount in Grice’s criticism of Ryle, where the keyword would rather be ‘disposition.’ Then ther eis the conditional and disposition. Grice is a philosophical psychologist. Does that make sense? So are Austin (Other Minds), Hampshire (Dispositions), Pears (Problems in philosophical psychology) and Urmson (Parentheticals). They are ALL against Ryle’s silly analysis in terms of single-track disposition" vs. "many-track disposition," and "semi-disposition." If I hum and walk, I can either hum or walk. But if I heed mindfully, while an IN-direct sensing may guide me to YOUR soul, a DIRECT sensing guides me to MY soul. When Ogden consider attacks to meaning, theres what he calls the psychological, which he ascribes to Locke Grices attitude towards Ryle is difficult to assess. His most favourable assessment comes from Retrospective epilogue, but then he is referring to Ryle’s fairy godmother. Initially, he mentions Ryle as a philosopher engaged in, and possibly dedicated to the practice of the prevailing Oxonian methodology, i.e. ordinary-language philosophy. Initially, then, Grice enlists Ryle in the regiment of ordinary-language philosophers. After introducing Athenian dialectic and Oxonian dialectic, Grice traces some parallelisms, which should not surprise. It is tempting to suppose that Oxonian dialectic reproduces some ideas of Athenian dialectic.  It would actually be surprising if there were no parallels. Ryle was, after all, a skilled and enthusiastic student of Grecian philosophy. Interestingly, Grice then has Ryles fairy godmother as proposing the idea that, far from being a basis for rejecting the analytic-synthetic distinction, opposition that there are initially two distinct bundles of statements, bearing the labels analytic and synthetic, lying around in the world of thought waiting to be noticed, provides us with the key to making the analytic-synthetic distinction acceptable. The essay has a verificationist ring to it. Recall Ayer and the verificationists trying to hold water with concepts like fragile and the problem of counterfactual conditionals vis-a-vis observational and theoretical concepts. Grices essay has two parts: one on disposition as such, and the second, the application to a type of psychological disposition, which would be phenomenalist in a way, or verificationist, in that it derives from introspection of, shall we say, empirical phenomena. Grice is going to analyse, I want a sandwich. One person wrote in his manuscript, there is something with the way Grice goes to work. Still. Grice says that I want a sandwich (or I will that I eat a sandwich) is problematic, for analysis, in that it seems to refer to experience that is essentially private and unverifiable. An analysis of intending that p in terms of being disposed that p is satisfied solves this. Smith wants a sandwich, or he wills that he eats a sandwich, much as Toby needs nuts, if Smith opens the fridge and gets one. Smith is disposed to act such that p is satisfied. This Grice opposes to the ‘special-episode’ analysis of intending that p. An utterance like I want a sandwich iff by uttering the utterance, the utterer is describing this or that private experience, this or that private sensation. This or that sensation may take the form of a highly specific souly sate, like what Grice calls a sandwich-wanting-feeling. But then, if he is not happy with the privacy special-episode analysis, Grice is also dismissive of Ryles behaviourism in The concept of mind, fresh from the press, which would describe the utterance in terms purely of this or that observable response, or behavioural output, provided this or that sensory input. Grice became friendlier with functionalism after Lewis taught him how.  The problem or crunch is with the first person. Surely, Grice claims, one does not need to wait to observe oneself heading for the fridge before one is in a position to know that he is hungry.  Grice poses a problem for the protocol-reporter. You see or observe someone else, Smith, that Smith wants a sandwich, or wills that he eats a sandwich. You ask for evidence. But when it is the agent himself who wants the sandwich, or wills that he eats a sandwich, Grice melodramatically puts it, I am not in the audience, not even in the front row of the stalls; I am on the stage. Genial, as you will agree. Grice then goes on to offer an analysis of intend, his basic and target attitude, which he has just used to analyse and rephrase Peirces mean and which does relies on this or that piece of dispositional evidence, without divorcing itself completely from the privileged status or access of first-person introspective knowledge. In “Uncertainty,” Grice weakens his reductive analysis of intending that, from neo-Stoutian, based on certainty, or assurance, to neo-Prichardian, based on predicting. All very Oxonian: Stout was the sometime Wilde reader in mental philosophy (a post usually held by a psychologist, rather than a philosopher ‒ Stouts favourite philosopher is psychologist James! ‒ and Prichard was Cliftonian and the proper White chair of moral philosophy. And while in “Uncertainty” he allows that willing that may receive a physicalist treatment, qua state, hell later turn a functionalist, discussed under ‘soul, below, in his “Method in philosophical psychology (from the banal to the bizarre” (henceforth, “Method”), in the Proceedings and Addresses of the American Philosophical Association, repr. in “Conception.” Grice can easily relate to Hamsphires "Thought and Action," a most influential essay in the Oxonian scene. Rather than Ryle! And Grice actually addresses further topics on intention drawing on Hampshire, Hart, and his joint collaboration with Pears. Refs.: The main reference is Grice’s early essay on disposition and intention, The H. P. Grice. Refs.: The main published source is Essay 4 in WOW, but there are essays on ‘ifs and cans,’ so ‘if’ is a good keyword, on ‘entailment,’ and for the connection with ‘intending,’ ‘disposition and intention,’ BANC.

conjunctum: One has to be careful because the scholastic vocabulary also misleadingly has ‘copulatum’ for this. The ‘copulatum’ should be restricted to other usages, which Grice elaborates on ‘izzing’ and hazing. traditional parlance, one ‘pars orationis.’  Aulus Gellius writes; “What the Greeks call cup.TrsTrXeYF®'^® we call conjunctum or copulatum, copulative sentence. For example. The Stoic copulative sentence — CTU|j.7rE7rXEY(iEvov dEltofia — is translated by “conjunctum” or “copulatum,” for example: „P. Scipio, son of Paulus, was a consul twice and was given the honour of triumph and also performed the function of censor and was the colleague of L. Mummius during his censorship”. Here, Aulus Gellius made a noteworthy remark, referring to the value of truth of the composing propositions ■ (a Stoic problem). In keeping with the Stoics, he wrote: “If one element of the copulative sentence is false, even if all the other elements are true, the copulative sentence is false” (“in omni aiitem conjuncto si unum est mendacium etiamsi, caetera vera sunt, totum esse mendacium dicitur”). In the identification of ‘and’ with ‘Λ’ there is already a considerable distortion of the facts. ‘And’ can perform many jobs which ‘Λ’ cannot perform. It can, for instance, be used to couple nouns (“Tom and William arrived”), or adjectives (“He was hungry and thirsty”), or adverbs (“He walked slowly and painfully”); while ' . ' can be used only to couple expressions which could appear as separate sentences. One might be tempted to say that sentences in which “and” coupled words or phrases, were short for sentences in which “and” couples clauses; e.g., that “He was hungry and thirsty” was short for “He was hungry and he was thirsty.” But this is simply false. We do not say, of anyone who uses sentences like “Tom and William arrived,” that he is speaking elliptically, or using abbreviations. On the contrary, it is one of the functions of “and,” to which there is no counterpart In the case of “.,” to form plural subjects or compound predicates. Of course it is true of many statements of the forms “x and y” are/* or ' x is /and g \ that they are logically equivalent to corresponding statements of the" form * x Is /and yisf'oT^x is /and x is g \ But, first, this is a fact about the use, in certain contexts, of  “and,” to which there corresponds no rule for the use of * . '. And, second, there are countless contexts for which such an equivalence does not hold; e.g. “Tom and Mary made friends” is not equivalent to “Tom made friends and Mary made friends.” They mean, usually, quite different things. But notice that one could say “Tom and Mary made friends; but not with one another.” The implication of mutuality in the first phrase is not so strong but that it can be rejected without self-contradiction; but it is strong enough to make the rejection a slight shock, a literary effect. Nor does such an equivalence hold if we replace “made friends” by “met yesterday,” “were conversing,” “got married,” or “were playing chess.” Even “Tom and William arrived” does not mean the same as “Tom arrived and William arrived;” for the first suggests “together” and the second an order of arrival. It might be conceded that “and” has functions which “ .” has not (e.g., may carry in certain contexts an implication of mutuality which ‘.’  does not), and yet claimed that the rules which hold for “and,” where it is used to couple clauses, are the same as the rules which hold for “.” Even this is not true. By law (11), " p , q ' is logically equivalent to * q . p ' ; but “They got married and had a child” or “He set to work and found a job” are by no means logically equivalent to “They had a child and got married” or “He found a job and set to work.” One might try to avoid these difficulties by regarding ‘.’ as having the function, not of ' and ', but of what it looks like, namely a full stop. We should then have to desist from talking of statements of the forms ' p .q\ * p . J . r * &CM and talk of sets-of-statements of these forms instead. But this would not avoid all, though it would avoid some, of the difficulties. Even in a passage of prose consisting of several indicative sentences, the order of the sentences may be in general vital to the sense, and in particular, relevant (in a way ruled out by law (II)) to the truth-conditions of a set-of-statements made by such a passage. The fact is that, in general, in ordinary speech and writing, clauses and sentences do not contribute to the truthconditions of things said by the use of sentences and paragraphs in which they occur, in any such simple way as that pictured by the truth-tables for the binary connectives (' D ' * . ', 4 v ', 35 ') of the system, but in far more subtle, various, and complex ways. But it is precisely the simplicity of the way in which, by the definition of a truth-function, clauses joined by these connectives contribute to the truth-conditions of sentences resulting from the junctions, which makes possible the stylized, mechanical neatness of the logical system. It will not do to reproach the logician for his divorce from linguistic realities, any more than it will do to reproach the abstract painter for not being a representational artist; but one may justly reproach him if he claims to be a representational artist. An abstract painting may be, recognizably, a painting of something. And the identification of “.” with ‘and,’ or with a full stop, is not a simple mistake. There is a great deal of point in comparing them. The interpretation of, and rules for, “.”define a minimal linguistic operation, which we might call ‘simple conjunction’ and roughly describe as the joining together of two (or more) statements in the process of asserting them both (or all). And this is a part of what we often do with ' and ', and with the full stop. But we do not string together at random any assertions we consider true; we bring them together, in spoken or written sentences or paragraphs, only when there is some further reason for the rapprochement, e.g., when they record successive episodes in a single narrative. And that for the sake of which we conjoin may confer upon the sentences embodying the conjunction logical features at variance with the rules for “.” Thus we have seen that a statement of the form “p and q” may carry an implication of temporal order incompatible with that carried by the corresponding statement of the form “q and p.” This is not to deny that statements corresponding to these, but of the forms ‘pΛq’ and ‘qΛp’would be, if made, logically equivalent; for such statements would carry no implications, and therefore no incompatible implications, of temporal order. Nor is it to deny the point, and merit, of the comparison; the statement of the form ‘pΛq’ means at least a part of what is meant by the corresponding statement of the form ‘p and q.’ We might say:  the form ‘p q’ is an abstraction from the different uses of the form ‘p and q.’  Simple conjunction is a minimal element in colloquial conjunction. We may speak of ‘. ‘ as the conjunctive sign; and read it, for simplicity's sake, as “and” or “both … and … “I have already remarked that the divergence between the meanings given to the truth-functional constants and the meanings of the ordinary conjunctions with which they are commonly identified is at a minimum in the cases of ' ~ ' and ‘.’ We have seen, as well, that the remaining constants of the system can be defined in terms of these two. Other interdefinitions are equally possible. But since ^’ and ‘.’  are more nearly identifiable with ‘not’ and ‘and’ than any other constant with any other English word, I prefer to emphasize the definability of the remaining constants in terms of ‘ .’ and ‘~.’ It is useful to remember that every rule or law of the system can be expressed in terms of negation and simple conjunction. The system might, indeed, be called the System of Negation and Conjunction. Grice lists ‘and’ as the first binary functor in his response to Strawson. Grice’s conversationalist hypothesis applies to this central ‘connective.’ Interestingly, in his essay on Aristotle, and discussing, “French poet,” Grice distinguishes between conjunction and adjunction. “French” is adjuncted to ‘poet,’ unlike ‘fat’ in ‘fat philosopher.’  Refs.The main published source is “Studies in the Way of Words” (henceforth, “WOW”), I (especially Essays 1 and 4), “Presupposition and conversational implicature,” in P. Cole, and the two sets on ‘Logic and conversation,’ in The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

non-conventional – Strawson and Wiggins “P therefore q”: What is said: “p and q” not made false if the implicated consequence relation fails to hold. Strawson and Wiggins give other examples: therefore, so, but, although, because, alas, and in its ‘misusage,’hopefully.’

conversational avowal:  Grice’s favourite conversational avowal, mentioned by Grice, is a declaration of an intention.. Grice starts using the phrase ‘conversational avowal’ after exploring Ryle’s rather cursory exploration of them in The Concept of Mind. This is interesting because in general Grice is an anti-ryleist. The verb is of course ‘to avow,’ which is ultimately a Latinate from ‘advocare.’ A processes or event of the soul is, on the official view, supposed to be played out in a private theatre. Such an event is known directly by the man who has them either through the faculty of introspection or the ‘phosphorescence’ of consciousness. The subject is, on this view, incorrigible—his avowals of the state of his soul cannot be corrected by others—and he is infallible—he cannot be wrong about which states he is in. The official doctrine mistakenly construes an avowals or a report of such an episode as issuing from a special sort of observation or perception of shadowy existents. We should consider some differences between two sorts of 'conversational' avowals: (i) I feel a tickle and (ii) I feel ill. If a man feels a tickle, he has a tickle, and if he has a tickle, he feels it. But if he feels ill, he may not be ill, and if he is ill, he may not feel ill. Doubtless a man’s feeling ill is some evidence for his being ill. But feeling a tickle is not evidence for his having a tickle, any more than striking a blow is evidence for the occurrence of a blow. In ‘feel a tickle’ and ‘strike a blow’, ‘tickle’ and ‘blow’ are cognate accusatives to the verbs ‘feel’ and ‘strike’. The verb and its accusative are two expressions for the same thing, as are the verbs and their accusatives in ‘I dreamt a dream’ and ‘I asked a question’. But ‘ill’ and ‘capable of climbing the tree’ are not cognate accusatives to the verb ‘to feel.' So they are not in grammar bound to signify feelings, as ‘tickle’ is in grammar bound to signify a feeling. Another purely grammatical point shows the same thing. It is indifferent whether I say ‘I feel a tickle’ or ‘I have a tickle’; but ‘I have . . .’ cannot be completed by ‘. . . ill’, (cf. ‘I have an illness’), ‘. . . capable of climbing the tree’, (cf. I have a capability to climb that tree’) ‘. . . happy’ (cf. ‘I have a feeling of happiness’ or ‘I have happiness in my life’) or ‘. . . discontented’ (cf. ‘I have a feeling of strong discontent towards behaviourism’). If we try to restore the verbal parallel by bringing in the appropriate abstract nouns, we find a further incongruity; ‘I feel happiness’(I feel as though I am experiencing happiness), ‘I feel illness’ (I feel as though I do have an illness’) or ‘I feel ability to climb the tree’ (I feel that I am endowed with the capability to climb that tree), if they mean anything, they do not mean at all what a man means by uttering ‘I feel happy,’ or ‘I feel ill,’ or ‘I feel capable of climbing the tree’. On the other hand, besides these differences between the different uses of ‘I feel . . .’ there are important CONVERSATIONAL analogies as well. If a man says that he has a tickle, his co-conversationalist does not ask for his evidence, or requires him to make quite sure. Announcing a tickle is not proclaiming the results of an investigation. A tickle is not something established by careful witnessing, or something inferred from a clue, nor do we praise for his powers of observation or reasoning a man who let us know that he feels tickles, tweaks and flutters. Just the same is true of avowals of moods. If a man makes a conversational contribution, such as‘I feel bored’, or ‘I feel depressed’, his co-conversationalist does not usually ask him for his evidence, or request him to make sure. The co-conversationalist may accuse the man of shamming to him or to himself, but the co-conversationalist does not accuse him of having been careless in his observations or rash in his inferences, since a co-conversationalist would not usually think that his conversational avowal is a report of an observation or a conclusion.  He has not been a good or a bad detective; he has not been a detective at all. Nothing would surprise us more than to hear him say ‘I feel depressed’ in the alert and judicious tone of voice of a detective, a microscopist, or a diagnostician, though this tone of voice is perfectly congruous with the NON-AVOWAL past-tense ‘I WAS feeling depressed’ or the NON-AVOWAL third-person report, ‘HE feels depressed’. If the avowal is to do its conversational job, it must be said in a depressed tone of voice. The conversational avowal must be blurted out to a sympathizer, not reported to an investigator. Avowing ‘I feel depressed’ is doing one of the things, viz. one CONVERSATIONAL thing, that depression is the mood to do. It is not a piece of scientific premiss-providing, but a piece of ‘conversational moping.’That is why, if the co-conversationalist is suspicious, he does not ask ‘Fact or fiction?’, ‘True or false?’, ‘Reliable or unreliable?’, but ‘Sincere or shammed?’ The CONVERSATIONAL avowal of moods requires not acumen, but openness. It comes from the heart, not from the head. It is not discovery, but voluntary non-concealment. Of course people have to learn how to use avowal expressions appropriately and they may not learn these lessons very well. They learn them from ordinary discussions of the moods of others and from such more fruitful sources as novels and the theatre. They learn from the same sources how to cheat both other people and themselves by making a sham conversational avowal in the proper tone of voice and with the other proper histrionic accompaniments. If we now raise the question ‘How does a man find out what mood he is in?’ one can answer that if, as may not be the case, he finds it out at all, he finds it out very much as we find it out. As we have seen, he does not groan ‘I feel bored’ because he has found out that he is bored, any more than the sleepy man yawns because he has found out that he is sleepy. Rather, somewhat as the sleepy man finds out that he is sleepy by finding, among other things, that he keeps on yawning, so the bored man finds out that he is bored, if he does find this out, by finding that among other things he glumly says to others and to himself ‘I feel bored’ and ‘How bored I feel’. Such a blurted avowal is not merely one fairly reliable index among others. It is the first and the best index, since being worded and voluntarily uttered, it is meant to be heard and it is meant to be understood. It calls for no sleuth-work.In some respects a conversational avowal of a moods, like ‘I feel cheerful,’ more closely resemble announcements of sensations like ‘I feel a tickle’ than they resemble utterances like ‘I feel better’ or ‘I feel capable of climbing the tree’. Just as it would be absurd to say ‘I feel a tickle but maybe I haven’t one’, so, in ordinary cases, it would be absurd to say ‘I feel cheerful but maybe I am not’. But there would be no absurdity in saying ‘I FEEL better but, to judge by the doctor’s attitude, perhaps I am WORSE’, or ‘I do FEEL as if I am capable of climbing the tree but maybe I cannot climb it.’This difference can be brought out in another way. Sometimes it is natural to say ‘I feel AS IF I could eat a horse’, or ‘I feel AS IF my temperature has returned to normal’. But, more more immediate conversational avowals, it would seldom if ever be natural to say ‘I feel AS IF I were in the dumps’, or ‘I feel AS IF I were bored’, any more than it would be natural to say ‘I feel AS IF I had a pain’. Not much would be gained by discussing at length why we use ‘feel’ in these different ways. There are hosts of other ways in which it is also used. I can say ‘I felt a lump in the mattress’, ‘I felt cold’, ‘I felt queer’, ‘I felt my jaw-muscles stiffen’, ‘I felt my gorge rise’, ‘I felt my chin with my thumb’, ‘I felt in vain for the lever’, ‘I felt as if something important was about to happen’, ‘I felt that there was a flaw somewhere in the argument’, ‘I felt quite at home’, ‘I felt that he was angry’. A feature common to most of these uses of ‘feel’ is that the utterer does not want further questions to be put. They would be either unanswerable questions, or unaskable questions. That he felt it is enough to settle some debates.That he merely felt it is enough to show that debates should not even begin. Names of moods, then, are not the names of feelings. But to be in a particular mood is to be in the mood, among other things, to feel certain sorts of feelings in certain sorts of situations. To be in a lazy mood, is, among other things, to tend to have sensations of lassitude in the limbs when jobs have to be done, to have cosy feelings of relaxation when the deck-chair is resumed, not to have electricity feelings when the game begins, and so forth. But we are not thinking primarily of these feelings when we say that we feel lazy; in fact, we seldom pay much heed to sensations of these kinds, save when they are abnormally acute. Is a  name of a mood a name of an emotion? The only tolerable reply is that of course they are, in that some people some of the time use ‘emotion’. But then we must add that in this usage an emotion is not something that can be segregated from thinking, daydreaming, voluntarily doing things, grimacing or feeling pangs and itches. To have the emotion, in this usage, which we ordinarily refer to as ‘being bored’, is to be in the mood to think certain sorts of thoughts, and not to think other sorts, to yawn and not to chuckle, to converse with stilted politeness, and not to talk with animation, to feel flaccid and not to feel resilient. Boredom is not some unique distinguishable ingredient, scene or feature of all that its victim is doing and undergoing. Rather it is the temporary complexion of that totality. It is not like a gust, a sunbeam, a shower or the temperature; it is like the morning’s weather.  An unstudied conversational utterance may embody an explicit interest phrase, or a conversational avowal, such as ‘I want it’, ‘I hope so’, ‘That’s what I intend’, ‘I quite dislike it’, ‘Surely I am depressed’, ‘I do wonder, too’, ‘I guess so’ and ‘I am feeling hungry.’The surface grammar (if not logical form) makes it tempting to misconstrue all the utterances as a description. But in its primary employment such a conversational avowal as ‘I want it’ is not used to convey information.‘I want it’ is used to make a request or demand. ‘I want it’ is no more meant as a contribution to general knowledge than ‘please’. For a co-conversationalist to respond with the tag ‘Do you?’ or worse, as Grice’s tutee, with ‘*how* do you *know* that you want it?’ is glaringly inappropriate. Nor, in their primary employment, are conversational avowals such as ‘I hate it’ or ‘That’s what I I intend’ used for the purpose of telling one’s addressee facts about the utterer; or else we should not be surprised to hear them uttered in the cool, informative tones of voice in which one says ‘HE hates it’ and ‘That’s what he intends’. We expect a conversational avowal, on the contrary, to be spoken in a revolted and a resolute tone of voice respectively. It is an utterances of a man in a revolted and resolute frame of mind. A conversational avowal is a thing said in detestation and resolution and not a thing said in order to advance biographical knowledge about detestations and resolutions. A man who notices the unstudied utterances of the utterer, who may or may not be himself, is, if his interest in the utterer has the appropriate direction, especially well situated to pass comments upon the qualities and frames of mind of its author.‘avowal’ as a philosophical lexeme may not invite an immediate correlate in the Graeco-Roman, ultimately Grecian, tradition. ‘Confessio’ springs to mind, but this is not what Grice is thinking about. He is more concerned with issues of privileged access and incorrigibility, or corrigibility, rather, as per the alleged immediacy of a first-person report of the form, “I feel that …” . Grice does use ‘avowal’ often especially in the early stages, when the logical scepticism about incorrigibility comes under attack. Just to be different, Grice is interested in the corrigibility of the avowal. The issue is of some importance in his account of the act of communication, and how one can disimplicate what one means. Grice loves to play with his tutee doubting as to whether he means that p or q. Except at Oxford, the whole thing has a ridiculous ring to it. I want you to bring me a paper by Friday. You mean the newspaper? You very well know what I mean. But perhaps you do not. Are you sure you mean a philosophy paper when you utter, ‘I want you to bring a paper by Friday’? As Grice notes, in case of self-deception and egcrateia, it may well be that the utterer does not know what he desires, if not what he intends, if anything. Freud and Foucault run galore. The topic will interest a collaborator of Grice’s, Pears, with his concept of ‘motivated irrationality.’ Grice likes to discuss a category mistake. I may be categorically mistaken but I am not categorically confused. Now when it comes to avowal-avowal, it is only natural that if he is interested in Aristotle on ‘hedone,’ Grice would be interested in Aristotle on ‘lupe.’ This is very philosophical, as Urmson agrees. Can one ‘fake’ pain? Why would one fake pain? Oddly, this is for Grice the origin of language. Is pleasure just the absence of pain? Liddell and Soctt have “λύπη” and render it as pain of body, oἡδον; also, sad plight or condition, but also pain of mind, grief; “ά; δῆγμα δὲ λύπης οὐδὲν ἐφ᾽ ἧπαρ προσικνεῖται; τί γὰρ καλὸν ζῆν βίοτον, ὃς λύπας φέρει; ἐρωτικὴ λ.’ λύπας προσβάλλειν;” “λ. φέρειν τινί; oχαρά.” Oddly, Grice goes back to pain in Princeton, since it is explored by Smart in his identity thesis. Take pain. Surely, Grice tells the Princetonians, it sounds harsh, to echo Berkeley, to say that it is the brain of Smith being in this or that a state which is justified by insufficient evidence; whereas it surely sounds less harsh that it is the C-fibres that constitute his ‘pain,’ which he can thereby fake. Grice distinguishes between a complete unstructured utterance token – “Ouch” – versus a complete syntactically structured erotetic utterance of the type, “Are you in pain?”. At the Jowett, Corpus Barnes has read Ogden and says ‘Ouch’ (‘Oh’) bears an ‘emotional’ or ‘emotive’ communicatum provided there is an intention there somewhere. Otherwise, no communicatum occurs. But if there is an intention, the ‘Oh’ can always be a fake. Grice distinguishes between a ‘fake’ and a ‘sneak.’ If U intends A to perceive ‘Oh’ as a fake, U means that he is in pain. If there is a sneaky intention behind the utterance, which U does NOT intend his A to recognise, there is no communicatum. Grice criticises emotivism as rushing ahead to analyse a nuance before exploring what sort of a nuance it is. Surely there is more to the allegedly ‘pseudo-descriptive’ ‘x is good,’ than U meaning that U emotionally approves of x. In his ‘myth,’ Grice uses pain magisterially as an excellent example for a privileged-access allegedly incorrigible avowal, and stage 0 in his creature progression. By uttering ‘Oh!,’ under voluntary control, Barnes means, iconically, that he is in pain. Pain fall under the broader keyword: emotion, as anger does. Cf. Aristotle on the emotion in De An., Rhet., and Eth. Nich. Knowing that at Oxford, if you are a classicist, you are not a philosopher, Grice never explores the Stoic, say, approach to pain, or lack thereof (“Which is good, since Walter Pater did it for me!”). Refs.: “Can I have a pain in my tail?” The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC MSS 90/135c, The Bancroft Library, The University of California, Berkeley.

conversational benevolence: Grice uses ‘conversational benevolence’ narrowly, to refer to the assumption that conversationalists will agree to make a contribution appropriate to the shared purposes of the exhcnage. It contrasts with the limiting conversational self-love, which is again taken narrowly to indicate that conversationalists are assumed to be conversationally ‘benevolent,’ in the interpretation above, provided doing that does not get them into unnecessary trouble. The type of rationality that Grice sees in conversational is one that sees conversation as ‘rational co-operation.’ So it is obvious that he has to invoke some level of benevolence. When tutoring his rather egoistic tutees he had to be careful, so he hastened to add a principle of conversational self-love. It was different when lecturing outside a tutorial! In fact ‘benevolence’ here is best understood as ‘altruism’. So, if there is a principle of conversational egoism, there is a correlative principle of conversational altruism. If Grice uses ‘self-love,’ there is nothing about ‘love,’ in ‘benevolence.’ Butler may have used ‘other-love’! Even if of course we must start with the Grecians! We must not forget that Plato and Aristotle despised "autophilia", the complacency and self-satisfaction making it into the opposite of "epimeleia heautou” in Plato’s Alcibiades. Similarly, to criticize Socratic ethics as a form of egoism in opposition to a selfless care of others is inappropriate. Neither a self-interested seeker of wisdom nor a dangerous teacher of self-love, Socrates, as the master of epimeleia heautou, is the hinge between the care of self and others. One has to be careful here. A folk-etymological connection between ‘foam’ may not be needed – when the Romans had to deal with Grecian ‘aphrodite.’ This requires that we look for another linguistic botany for Grecian ‘self-love’ that Grice opposes to ‘benevolentia.’ Hesiod derives Aphrodite from “ἀφρός,” ‘sea-foam,’ interpreting the name as "risen from the foam", but most modern scholars regard this as a spurious folk etymology. Early modern scholars of classical mythology attempted to argue that Aphrodite's name was of Griceain or Indo-European origin, but these efforts have now been mostly abandoned. Aphrodite's name is generally accepted to be of non-Greek, probably Semitic, origin, but its exact derivation cannot be determined. Scholars in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, accepting Hesiod's "foam" etymology as genuine, analyzed the second part of Aphrodite's name as -odítē "wanderer" or -dítē "bright". Janda, also accepting Hesiod's etymology, has argued in favor of the latter of these interpretations and claims the story of a birth from the foam as an Indo-European mytheme. Similarly, an Indo-European compound abʰor-, very" and dʰei- "to shine" have been proposed, also referring to Eos. Other have argued that these hypotheses are unlikely since Aphrodite's attributes are entirely different from those of both Eos and the Vedic deity Ushas.A number of improbable non-Greek etymologies have also been suggested. One Semitic etymology compares Aphrodite to the Assyrian ‘barīrītu,’ the name of a female demon that appears in Middle Babylonian and Late Babylonian texts. Hammarström looks to Etruscan, comparing eprϑni "lord", an Etruscan honorific loaned into Greek as πρύτανις.This would make the theonym in origin an honorific, "the lady".Most scholars reject this etymology as implausible, especially since Aphrodite actually appears in Etruscan in the borrowed form Apru (from Greek Aphrō, clipped form of Aphrodite). The medieval Etymologicum Magnum offers a highly contrived etymology, deriving Aphrodite from the compound habrodíaitos (ἁβροδίαιτος), "she who lives delicately", from habrós and díaita. The alteration from b to ph is explained as a "familiar" characteristic of Greek "obvious from the Macedonians". It is much easier with the Romans.  Lewis and Short have ‘ămor,’ old form “ămŏs,” “like honos, labos, colos, etc.’ obviously from ‘amare,’ and which they render as ‘love,’ as in Grice’s “conversational self-love.” Your tutor will reprimand you if you spend too much linguistic botany on ‘eros.’ “Go straight to ‘philos.’” But no. There are philosophical usages of ‘eros,’ especially when it comes to the Grecian philosophers Grice is interested in: Aristotle reading Plato, which becomes Ariskant reading Plathegel. So, Liddell and Scott have “ἔρως” which of course is from a verb, or two: “ἕραμαι,” “ἐράω,” and which they render as “love, mostly of the sexual passion, ““θηλυκρατὴς ἔ.,” “ἐρῶσ᾽ ἔρωτ᾽ ἔκδημον,” “ἔ. τινός love for one, S.Tr.433, “παίδων” E. Ion67, and “generally, love of a thing, desire for it,” ““πατρῴας γῆς” “δεινὸς εὐκλείας ἔ.” “ἔχειν ἔμφυτον ἔρωτα περί τι” Plato, Lg. 782e ; “πρὸς τοὺς λόγους” (love of law), “ἔρωτα σχὼν τῆς Ἑλλάδος τύραννος γενέσθαι” Hdt.5.32 ; ἔ. ἔχει με c. inf., A.Supp.521 ; “θανόντι κείνῳ συνθανεῖν ἔρως μ᾽ ἔχει” S.Fr.953 ; “αὐτοῖς ἦν ἔρως θρόνους ἐᾶσθαι” Id.OC367 ; ἔ. ἐμπίπτει μοι c. inf., A.Ag.341, cf. Th.6.24 ; εἰς ἔρωτά τινος ἀφικέσθαι, ἐλθεῖν, Antiph.212.3,Anaxil.21.5 : pl., loves, amours, “ἀλλοτρίων” Pi.N.3.30 ; “οὐχ ὅσιοι ἔ.” E.Hipp.765 (lyr.) ; “ἔρωτες ἐμᾶς πόλεως” Ar.Av.1316 (lyr.), etc. ; of dolphins, “πρὸς παῖδας” Arist.HA631a10 : generally, desires, S.Ant.617 (lyr.). 2. object of love or desire, “ἀπρόσικτοι ἔρωτες” Pi.N.11.48, cf. Luc.Tim.14. 3. passionate joy, S.Aj.693 (lyr.); the god of love, Anacr.65, Parm.13, E.Hipp.525 (lyr.), etc.“Έ. ἀνίκατε μάχαν” S.Ant.781 (lyr.) : in pl., Simon.184.3, etc. III. at Nicaea, a funeral wreath, EM379.54. IV. name of the κλῆρος Ἀφροδίτης, Cat.Cod.Astr.1.168 ; = third κλῆρος, Paul.Al.K.3; one of the τόποι, Vett.Val.69.16. And they’ll point to you that the Romans had ‘amor’ AND ‘cupidus’ (which they meant as a transliteration of epithumia). 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) pretty early. 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! Refs.: The source is Grice’s seminar in the first set on ‘Logic and conversation.’ The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

conversational category. One has to be careful here. Grice does speak of this or that ‘conversational category.’ Seeing that he is ‘echoing,’ as he puts it, Ariskant, we migt just as well have an entry for each of the four. These would be the category of conversational quantity, the category of conversational quality, the category of conversational relation, and the category of conversational modality. Note that in this rephrasing Grice applies ‘conversational’ directly to the category. As Boethius pointed out (and Grice loved to read Minio-Paullelo’s edition of Boethus’s commentary on the Categories), the motivation by Aristotle to posit this or that category was expository. A mind cannot know a multitude of things, so we have to ‘reduce’ things. It is important to note that while ‘quantitas,’ ‘qualitas’ ‘relatio’ and ‘modus’ are used by Kant, he actually augments the number of categories. These four would be supra-categories. The sub-categories, or categories themselves turn out to be twelve. Kant proposed 12 categories: unity, plurality, and totality for concept of quantity; reality, negation, and limitation, for the concept of quality; inherence and subsistence, cause and effect, and community for the concept of relation; and possibility-impossibility, existence-nonexistence, and necessity and contingency. Kategorien sind nach Kant apriorisch und unmittelbar gegeben. Sie sind Werkzeuge des Urteilens und Werkzeuge des Denkens. Als solche dienen sie nur der Anwendung und haben keine Existenz. Sie bestehen somit nur im menschlichen Verstand. Sie sind nicht an Erfahrung gebunden.^[5] Durch ihre Unmittelbarkeit sind sie auch nicht an Zeichen gebunden.^[6] Kants erkenntnistheoretisches Ziel ist es, über die Bedingungen der Geltungskraft von Urteilen Auskunft zu geben. Ohne diese Auskunft können zwar vielerlei Urteile gefällt werden, sie müssen dann allerdings als „systematische Doktrin(en)“ bezeichnet werden.^[7] Kant kritisiert damit das rein analytische Denken der Wissenschaft als falsch und stellt ihm die Notwendigkeit des synthetisierenden Denkens gegenüber.^[8] Kant begründet die Geltungskraft mit dem Transzendentalen Subjekt.^[9] Das Transzendentalsubjekt ist dabei ein reiner Reflexionsbegriff, welcher das synthetisierende Dritte darstellt (wie in späteren Philosophien Geist (Hegel), Wille, Macht, Sprache und Wert (Marx)), das nicht durch die Sinne wahrnehmbar ist. Kant sucht hier die Antwort auf die Frage, wie der Mensch als vernunftbegabtes Wesen konstituiert werden kann, nicht in der Analyse, sondern in einer Synthesis.^[10]Bei Immanuel Kant, der somit als bedeutender Erneuerer der bis dahin „vorkritischen“ Kategorienlehre gilt, finden sich zwölf „Kategorien der reinen Vernunft“. Für Kant sind diese Kategorien Verstandesbegriffe, nicht aber Ausdruck des tatsächlichen Seins der Dinge an sich. Damit wandelt sich die ontologische Sichtweise der Tradition in eine erkenntnistheoretische Betrachtung, weshalb Kants „kritische“ Philosophie (seit der Kritik der reinen Vernunft) oft auch als „Kopernikanische Wende in der Philosophie“ bezeichnet wird.Quantität, Qualität, Relation und Modalität sind die vier grundlegenden Urteilsfunktionen des Verstandes, nach denen die Kategorien gebildet werden. Demnach sind z. B. der Urteilsfunktion „Quantität“ die Kategorien bzw. Urteile „Einheit“, „Vielheit“ und „Allheit“ untergeordnet, und der Urteilsfunktion „Relation“ die Urteile der „Ursache“ und der „Wirkung“.Siehe auch: Kritik der reinen Vernunft und Transzendentale AnalytikBereits bei Friedrich Adolf Trendelenburg findet man den Hinweis auf die verbreitete Kritik, dass Kant die den Kategorien zugrunde liegenden Urteilsformen nicht systematisch hergeleitet und damit als notwendig begründet hat. Einer der Kritikpunkte ist dabei, dass die Kategorien sich teilweise auf Anschauungen (Einzelheit, Realität, Dasein), teilweise auf Abstraktionen wie Zusammenfassen, Begrenzen oder Begründen (Vielheit, Allheit, Negation, Limitation, Möglichkeit, Notwendigkeit) beziehen.

conversational co-operation – used by Grice WOW:368 – previously, ‘rational cooperation’ – what cooperation is not rational? Grice says that if Smith promised Jones a job; Jones doesn’t get it. Smith must be DEEMED to have given the job to Jones. It’s the intention, as Kant shows, the pure motive, that matters. Ditto for communication. If Blackburn draws a skull, he communicates that there is danger. If his addressee fails to recognise the emissor’s intention the emissor will still be deemed to have communicated that there is danger. So communication does NOT require co-operation. His analysis of “emissor communicates that p” is not one of “emissor successfully communicates that p,” because “communicates” reduces to “intends” not to ‘fulfilled intention.’ Cooperation enters when we go beyond ONE act of communication. To communicate is to give information and to influence another, and it is also to receive information and to be influenced by another. When these communicative objectives are made explicit, helpfulness or cooperation becomes essential. He uses ‘converational cooperation” and “supreme principle of conversational cooperation” (369). He uses ‘supreme conversational principle” of “cooperativeness” (369), to avoid seeing the conversational imperatives as an unorganized heap of conversational obligations. Another variant is Grice’s use of “principle of conversational co-operation.” He also uses “principle of conversational rational co-operation.” Note that irrational or non-rational co-operation is not an oxymoron. Another expression is conversational cooperative rationality. So Grice was amused that you can just as well refer to ‘cooperative rationality” or “rational cooperation,” “a category shift if ever there was one.”

conversational explicitum: If the emissor draws a skull what he explicitly conveys is that this is a skull. This is the EPLICITUM. If he communicates that there is danger, that’s via some further reasoning. That associates a skull with death. Grice’s example is Grice displaying his bandaged leg. Strictly, he communicates that he has a bandaged leg. Second, that his leg is bandaged (the bandage may be fake). And third, that he cannot play cricket. It all started in Oxford when they started to use ‘imply’ in a sense other than the ‘logical’ one. This got Grice immersed in a deep exploration of types of ‘implication.’ There is the implicatum, and the implicitum, both from ‘implico.’ As correlative there is the explicatio, which yields both the explicatum and the explicitum. Grice has under the desideratum of conversational clarity that a conversationalist is assumed to make the point of his conversational contribution ‘explicit.’ So in his polemic with G. A. Paul, Grice knows that the ‘doubt-or-denial’ condition will be at the level NOT of the explicitum or explicatum. Surely an implicatum can be CANCELLED explicitly. Grice uses ‘contextual’ or ‘explicit,’ here but grants that the ‘contextual’ may be subsumed under the ‘explicit.’  It is when the sub-perceptual utterance is copulated with the formulation of the explicatum of the implicatum that Grice shows G. A. Paul that the statement is still ‘true,’ and which Grice sees as a reivindication of the causal theory of perception. In the twenty or so examples of philosophical mistakes, both in “Causal” and “Prolegomena,” all the mistakes can be rendered back to the ‘explicatum’ versus ‘implicatum’ distinction. Unfortunately, each requires a philosophical background to draw all the ‘implications,’ and Grice has been read by people without a philosophical background who go on to criticise him for ignoring things where he never had focused his attention on. His priority is to deal with these philosophical mistakes. He also expects the philosopher to come up with a general methodological statement. Grice distinguishes between the conversational explicitum and the conversational explicatum. Grice plays with ‘explicit’ and ‘implicit’ at various places. He often uses ‘explicit’and ‘implicit’ adverbially: the utterer explicitly conveys that p versus the utterer implicitly conveys that p (hints that p, suggests that p, indicates that p, implicates that p, implies that p). Grice regards that both dimensions form part of the total act of signification, accepting as a neutral variant, that the utterer has signified that p.

conversational futilitarianism: from futile: Can there be a futilitarian theory of communication? Grice’s! The issue is a complex one. Some may interpret Grice’s theory as resting “on Kantian grounds.” Not everybody was present at Grice’s seminars at Oxford on helpfulness, where he discusses the kind of reasoning that a participant to a conversation will display in assuming that his co-conversationalist is being conversationally helpful, conversationally benevolent, conversationally ‘altruist,’ almost, and conversationally, well, co-operative. So, as to the basis for this. We can simplify the scenario by using the plural. A conversationalist assumes that his co-conversationalist is being co-operative on Kantian grounds. What are the alternatives, if any? One can re-describe “Kantian grounds” as “moral grounds.” Conversationalists abide with the principle of conversational helpfulness on Kantian, moral grounds. Kant wrote the “Critique of practical reason,” so Kant would allow for a rephrase of this as follows. Conversationalists abide with the principle of conversational helpfulness on practical, indeed moral, grounds – which is the topic of Grice’s last Kant lecture at Stanford. How to turn a ‘counsel of prudence,’ which is ‘practical’ into something that covers Kant’s “Kategorische Imperativ.” And then there’s the utilitarian. Utilitarianism IS a moral theory, or a meta-ethical theory. So one would have to allow for the possibility that conversationalists abide by the principle of conversational helpfulness on “utilitarian grounds,” which would be “practical grounds,” AND “moral grounds,” if not Kantian grounds. In any case, the topic WAS raised, and indeed, for someone like Grice who wrote on ‘pleasure,’ and ‘happiness,’ it does not seem futilitarian to see him as a futilitarian. Unfortunately, you need a serious philosophical background to appreciate all this, since it touches on the very serious, or ‘deep,’ as Grice would say, “and fascinating,” suburbia or practicality. But surely the keyword ‘utilitarian’ as per “conversationalists abide by the principle of conversational helpfulness on utilitarian grounds” is a possibility. Cf. Grice’s reference to the ‘least effort,’ and in the Oxford lectures on helpfulness to a conversationalist not getting involved in “undue effort,” or getting into “unnecessary trouble.” “Undue effort” is ‘forbidden’ by the desideratum of conversational candour; the ‘unnecessary trouble’ is balanced by the ‘principle of conversational self-love.’ And I don’t think Kant would ever considered loving himself! Grice being keen on neuter adjectives, he saw the ‘utile’ at the root of utilitarianism. There is much ‘of value’ in the old Roman concept of ‘utile.’ Lewis and Short have it as Neutr. absol.: ūtĭle , is, n., what is useful, the useful: omne tulit punctum, qui miscuit utile dulci, Hor. A. P. 343: “bonus atque fidus Judex honestum praetulit utili,” id. C. 4, 9, 41: “utilium tardus provisor,” id. A. P. 164: “sententiae de utilibus honestisque,” Quint. 3, 8, 13; cf. id. 1, 2, 29. —Ultimately, Grice’s meta-ethics, like Hare’s, Nowell-Smith’s, Austin’s, Hampshire’s, and Warnock’s derives into a qualified utilitarianism, with notions of agreeableness and eudaemonia being crucial. Grice well knows that for Aristotle pleasure is just one out of the three sources for phulia; the others being profit, and virtue. As an English utilitarian, or English futilitarian, Grice plays with Griceian pleasures. Democritus, as Grice remarks, seems to be the earliest philosopher to have categorically embraced a hedonistic philosophy. Democritus claims that the supreme goal of life is contentment or cheerfulness, stating that joy and sorrow are the distinguishing mark of things beneficial and harmful. The Cyrenaics are an ultra-hedonist Grecoam school of philosophy founded by Aristippus. Many of the principles of the school were set by his grandson, Aristippus the Younger, and Theodorus. The Cyrenaic school is one of the earliest Socratic schools. The Cyrenaics teach that the only intrinsic ‘agathon’ is pleasure ‘hedone,’ which means not just the absence of pain, but a positively enjoyable momentary sensation. A physical pleasure is stronger than a pleasure of anticipation or memory. The Cyrenaics do, however, recognize the value of social obligation, and that pleasure may be gained from altruism. The Cyrenaic school dies out within a century, and is replaced by Epicureanism.  The Cyrenaics are known for their sceptical epistemology. The Cyrenaics reduce logic to a basic doctrine concerning the criterion of truth. The Cyrenaics think that one can only know with certainty his immediate sense-experience, e. g., that he is having a sweet sensation. But one can know nothing about the nature of the object that causes this sensation, e.g., that honey is sweet. The Cyrenaics also deny that we can have knowledge of what the experience of others are like. All knowledge is immediate sensation. Sensation is a motion which is purely subjective, and is painful, indifferent or pleasant, according as it is violent, tranquil or gentle. Further, sensation is entirely individual and can in no way be described as constituting absolute objective knowledge. Feeling, therefore, is the only possible criterion of knowledge and of conduct. The way of being affected is alone knowable. Thus the sole aim for everyone should be pleasure. Cyrenaicism deduces a single, universal aim for all which is pleasure. Furthermore, feeling is momentary and homogeneous. It follows that past and future pleasure have no real existence for us, and that in present pleasure there is no distinction of kind. Socrates speaks of the higher pleasure of the intellect. The Cyrenaics denies the validity of this distinction and say that bodily pleasure (hedone somatike), being more simple and more intense, is preferable. Momentary pleasure, preferably of a physical kind, is the only good for a human. However, an action which gives immediate pleasure can create more than their equivalent of pain. The wise person should be in control (egcrateia) of pleasure rather than be enslaved to it, otherwise pain results, and this requires judgement to evaluate this or that pleasure of life. Regard should be paid to law and custom, because even though neither law nor custom have an intrinsic value on its own, violating law or custom leads to an unpleasant penalty being imposed by others. Likewise, friendship and justice are useful because of the pleasure they provide. Thus the Cyrenaics believe in the hedonistic value of social obligation and altruistic behaviour.  Epicureanism is a system of philosophy based upon the teachings of Epicurus, an atomic materialist, following in the steps of Democritus and Leucippus. Epicurus’s materialism leads him to a general stance against superstition or the idea of divine intervention. Following Aristippus, Epicurus believes that the greatest good is to seek modest, sustainable pleasure in the form of a state of tranquility and freedom from fear (ataraxia) and absence of bodily pain (aponia) through knowledge of the workings of the world and the limits of desire. The combination of these two states, ataraxia and aponia, is supposed to constitute happiness in its highest form. Although Epicureanism is a form of hedonism, insofar as it declares pleasure as the sole intrinsic good, its conception of absence of pain as the greatest pleasure and its advocacy of a simple life make it different from hedonism as it is commonly understood. In the Epicurean view, the highest pleasure (tranquility and freedom from fear) is obtained by knowledge, friendship and living a virtuous and temperate life. Epicurus lauds the enjoyment of a simple pleasure, by which he means abstaining from the bodily desire, such as sex and the appetite, verging on asceticism. Epicurus argues that when eating, one should not eat too richly, for it could lead to dissatisfaction later, such as the grim realization that one could not afford such delicacies in the future. Likewise, sex could lead to increased lust and dissatisfaction with the sexual partner. Epicurus does not articulate a broad system of social ethics that has survived but had a unique version of the golden rule.  It is impossible to live a pleasant life without living wisely and well and justly, agreeing neither to harm nor be harmed, and it is impossible to live wisely and well and justly without living a pleasant life. Epicureanism is originally a challenge to Platonism, though later it became the main opponent of Stoicism. Epicurus and his followers shun politics. After the death of Epicurus, his school is headed by Hermarchus. Later many Epicurean societies flourish in the Late Hellenistic era and during the Roman era, such as those in Antiochia, Alexandria, Rhodes and Ercolano. The poet Lucretius is its most known Roman proponent. By the end of the Roman Empire, having undergone attack and repression, Epicureanism has all but died out, and would be resurrected in the seventeenth century by the atomist Pierre Gassendi. Some writings by Epicurus have survived. Some scholars consider the epic poem “De natura rerum” by Lucretius to present in one unified work the core arguments and theories of Epicureanism. Many of the papyrus scrolls unearthed at the Villa of the Papyri at Herculaneum are Epicurean texts. At least some are thought to have belonged to the Epicurean Philodemus. Cf. Barnes on epicures and connoiseurs. Many a controversy arising out of this or that value judgement is settled by saying, ‘I like it and you don’t, and that s the end of the matter.’ I am content to adopt this solution of the difficulty on matters such as food and drink. Even here, though, we admit the existence of epicures and connoisseurs.Why are we not content to accept the same solution on every matter where value is concerned? The reason I am not so content lies in the fact that the action of one man dictated by his approval of something is frequently incompatible with the action of another man dictated by his approval of something. This is obviously philosophical, especially for the Grecian hedonistic Epicureians made popular by Marius and Walter Pater at Oxford. L and S have "ἡδονή,” also “ἁδονά,” or in a chorus in tragedy, “ἡδονά,” ultimately from "ἥδομαι,” which they render it as “enjoyment, pleasure,” “prop. of sensual pleasure.” αἱ τοῦ σώματος or περὶ τὸ σῶμα ἡ.; αἱ κατὰ τὸ σῶμα ἡ. Plato, Republic, 328d; σωματικαὶ ἡ. Arist. Eth. Nich. 1151a13; αἱ περὶ πότους καὶ περὶ ἐδωδὰς ἡ. Plato, Republic, 389e; but also ἀκοῆς ἡ; ἡ ἀπὸ τοῦ εἰδέναι ἡ. Pl. R. 582b; of malicious pleasure, ἡ ἐπὶ τοῖς τῶν φίλων κακοῖς, ἐπὶ ταῖς λοιδορίαις ἡ.; ἡδονῇ ἡσσᾶσθαι, ἡδοναῖς χαρίζεσθαι, to give way to pleasure; Pl. Lg. 727c; κότερα ἀληθείη χρήσομαι ἢ ἡδονῆ; shall I speak truly or so as to humour you? εἰ ὑμῖν ἡδονὴ τοῦ ἡγεμονεύειν; ἡ. εἰσέρχεταί τιϝι εἰ, “one feels pleasure at the thought that …” ; ἡδονὴν ἔχειν τινός to be satisfied with; ἡδονὴν ἔχει, φέρει; ἡδονὴ ἰδέσθαι (θαῦμα ἰδέσθαι), of a temple; δαίμοσιν πρὸς ἡδονήν;  ὃ μέν ἐστι πρὸς ἡ.; πρὸς ἡ. Λέγειν, “to speak so as to please another”; δημηγορεῖν; οὐ πρὸς ἡ. οἱ ἦν τὰ ἀγγελλόμενα; πάντα πρὸς ἡ. ἀκούοντας; later πρὸς ἡδονῆς εἶναί τινι; καθ᾽ ἡδονὴν κλύειν; καθ᾽ ἡδονήν ἐστί μοι; καθ᾽ ἡ. τι δρᾶν, ποιεῖν; καθ᾽ ἡδονὰς τῷ δήμῳ τὰ πράγματα ἐνδιδόναι; ἐν ἡδονῇ ἐστί τινι, it is a pleasure or delight to another; ἐν ἡδονῇ ἔχειν τινάς, to take pleasure in them; ἐν ἡδονῇ ἄρχοντες, oοἱ λυπηροί; μεθ᾽ ἡδονῆς; ὑφ᾽ ἡδονῆς; ὑπὸ τῆς ἡ; ἡδονᾷ with pleasure; a pleasure; ἡδοναὶ τραγημάτων sweetmeats; plural., desires after pleasure, pleasant lusts. In Ionic philosophers, taste, flavour, usually joined with χροιή. Note that Aristotle uses somatike hedone. As a Lit. Hum. Oxon., and especially as a tutee of Hardie at Corpus, Grice is almost too well aware of the centrality of hedone in Aristotles system. Pleasure is sometimes rendered “placitum,” as in “ad placitum,” in scholastic philosophy, but that is because scholastic philosophy is not as Hellenic as it should be. Actually, Grice prefers “agreeable.” One of Grices requisites for an ascription of eudaemonia (to have a fairy godmother) precisely has the system of ends an agent chooses to realise to be an agreeable one. One form or mode of agreeableness, Grice notes, is, unless counteracted, automatically attached to the attainment of an object of desire, such attainment being routinely a source of satisfaction. The generation of such a satisfaction thus provides an independent ground for preferring one system of ends to another. However, some other mode of agreeableness, such as e. g. being a source of delight, which is not routinely associated with the fulfilment of this or that desire, could discriminate, independently of other features relevant to such a preference, between one system of ends and another. Further, a system of ends the operation of which is especially agreeable is stable not only vis-à-vis a rival system, but also against the somewhat weakening effect of ‘egcrateia,’ incontinence, or akrasia, if you mustn’t. A disturbing influence, as Aristotle knows from experience, is more surely met by a principle in consort with a supporting attraction than by the principle alone. Grices favourite hedonistic implicatum was “please,” as in “please, please me,” by The Beatles. While Grice claims to love Kantotle, he cannot hide his greater reverence for Aristotle, instilled early on at Corpus. An Oxonian need not recite Kant in what during the Second World War was referred to as the Hun, and while Aristotle was a no-no at Clifton (koine!), Hardie makes Grice love him. With eudaemonia, Grice finds a perfect synthetic futilitarian concept to balance his innate analytic tendencies. There is Grecian eudaemonism and there is Griceian eudaemonism. L and S are not too helpful. They have “εὐδαιμονία” (Ion. –ιη), which they render not as happiness, but as “prosperity, good fortune, opulence;” “χρημάτων προσόδῳ καὶ τῇ ἄλλῃ εὐ.;” of countries; “μοῖρ᾽ εὐδαιμονίας.” In a second use, the expression is indeed rendered as “true, full happiness;” “εὐ. οὐκ ἐν βοσκήμασιν οἰκεῖ οὐδ᾽ ἐν χρυσῷ; εὐ. ψυχῆς, oκακοδαιμονίη, cf. Pl. Def. 412d, Arist. EN 1095a18, sometimes personified as a divinity. There is eudaemonia and there is kakodaemonia. Of course, Grice’s locus classicus is EN 1095a18, which is Grice’s fairy godmother, almost. Cf. Austin on agathon and eudaimonia in Aristotle’s ethics, unearthed by Urmson and Warnock, a response to an essay by Prichard in “Philosophy” on the meaning of agathon in Aristotle’s ethics. Pritchard argues that Aristotle regards “agathon” to mean conducive to “eudaemonia,” and, consequently, that Aristotle maintains that every deliberate action stems, ultimately, from the desire for eudaemonia. Austin finds fault with this. First, agathon in Aristotle does not have a single usage, and a fortiori not the one Pritchard suggests. Second, if one has to summarise the usage of “agathon” in one phrase, “being desired” cannot fulfil this function, for there are other objects of desire besides “τό άγαθόν,” even if Davidson would disagree. Prichard endeavours to specify what Aristotle means by αγαθον. In some contexts, “agathon” seems to mean simply that being desired or an ultimate or non‐ultimate end or aim of a person. In other contexts, “αγαθον” takes on a normative quality. For his statements to have content, argues Prichard, Aristotle must hold that when we pursue something of a certain kind, such as an honour, we pursue it as “a good.” Prichard argues that by "αγαθον" Aristotle actually means, except in the Nicomachean Ethics, conducive to eudaemonia, and holds that when a man acts deliberately, he does it from a desire to attain eudaemonia. Prichard attributes this position to Plato as well, despite the fact that both thinkers make statements inconsistent with this view of man’s ultimate aim. Grice takes life seriously: philosophical biology. He even writes an essay entitled “Philosophy of life,” listed is in PGRICE. Grice bases his thought on his tutee Ackrill’s Dawes Hicks essay for the BA, who quotes extensively from Hardie. Grice also reviews that “serious student of Greek philosophy,” Austin, in his response to Prichard, Grice’s fairy godmother. Much the most plausible conjecture regarding what Grecian eudaimonia means is that eudaemonia is to be understood as the name for that state or condition which one’s good dæmon would, if he could, ensure for one. One’s good dæmon is a being motivated, with respect to one, solely by concern for one’s eudaemonia, well-being or happiness. To change the idiom, eudæmonia is the general characterisation of what a full-time and unhampered fairy godmother would secure for one. Grice is concerned with the specific system of ends that eudaemonia consists for Ariskant. Grice borrows, but never returns, some reflections by his fomer tuttee at St. Johns, Ackrill. Ackrills point is about the etymological basis for eudaemonia, from eudaemon, the good dæmon, as Grice prefers. Grice thinks the metaphor should be disimplicated, and taken literally. Grice concludes with a set of ends that justify our ascription of eudaemonia to the agent. For Grice, as for Kantotle, telos and eudaemonia are related in subtle ways. For eudaemonia we cannot deal with just one end, but a system of ends, although such a system may be a singleton. Grice specifies a subtle way of characterising end so that a particular ascription of an end may entail an ascription of eudaemonia. Grice follows the textual criticism of his tutee Ackrill, in connection with the Socratic point that eudaemonia is literally related to the eudaemon. In PGRICE Warner explores Grice’s concept of eudaemonia. Warner is especially helpful with the third difficult Carus lecture by Grice, a metaphysical defence of absolute value. Warner connects with Grice in such topics as the philosophy of perception seen in an evolutionary light and the Kantotelian idea of eudaemonia. In response to Warner’s overview of the oeuvre of Grice for the festschrift that Warner co-edited with Grandy, Grice refers to the editors collectively as Richards. While he feels he has to use “happiness,” Grice is always having Aristotle’s eudaemonia in mind. The implicatum of Smith is ‘happy’ is more complex than Kantotle thinks. Austen knew. For Emma, you decide if youre happy. Ultimately, for Grice, the rational life is the happy life. Grice took life seriously: philosophical biology! Grice is clear when reprinting the Descartes essay in WOW, where he does quote from Descartes sources quite a bit, even if he implicates he is no Cartesian scholar – what Oxonian would? It concerns certainty. And certainty is originally Cantabrigian (Moore), but also Oxonian, in parts. Ayer says that to know is to assure that one is certain or sure. So he could connect. Grice will at various stages of his development play and explore this authoritative voice of introspection: incorrigibility and privileged access. He surely wants to say that a declaration of an intention is authoritative. And Grice plays with meaning, too when provoking Malcolm in a don recollection: Grice: I want you to bring me a paper tomorrow. Strawson: You mean a newspaper? Grice: No, a philosophical essay. Strawson: How do you know? Are you certain you mean that? Grice finds not being certain about what one means Strawsonian and otiose. Tutees. Grice loved to place himself in the role of the philosophical hack, dealing with his tutees inabilities, a whole week long – until he could find refreshment in para-philosophy on the Saturday morning. Now, the logical form of certain is a trick. Grice would symbolize it as numbering of operators. If G ψs p, G ψs ψs p, and G ψs ψs ψs p, and so ad infinitum. This is a bit like certainty. But not quite! When he explores trust, Grice considers something like a backing for it. But does conclusive evidence yield certainty? He doesnt think so. Certainty, for Grice should apply to any psychological attitude, state or stance. And it is just clever of him that when he had to deliver his BA lecture he chooses ‘intention and uncertainty’ as its topic, just to provoke. Not surprisingly, the “Uncertainty” piece opens with the sceptics challenge. And he will not conclude that the intender is certain. Only that theres some good chance (p ˃0.5) that what he intends will get through! When there is a will, there is a way, when there is a neo-Prichardian will-ing, there is a palæo-Griceian way-ing! Perhaps by know Moore means certain. Grice was amused by the fact that Moore thought that he knew that behind the curtains at the lecture hall at the University of Wisconsin at Madison, there was a window, when there wasnt. He uses Moores misuse of know – according to Malcolm – both in Causal theory and Prolegomena. And of course this relates to the topic of the sceptics implicature, above, with the two essays Scepticism and Common sense and Moore and Philosophers Paradoxes repr. partially in WOW. With regard to certainty, it is interesting to compare it, as Grice does, not so much with privileged access, but with incorrigibility. Do we not have privileged access to our own beliefs and desires? And, worse still, may it not be true that at least some of our avowals of our beliefs and desires are incorrigible? One of Grices problems is, as he puts it, how to accommodate privileged access and, maybe, incorrigibility. This or that a second-order state may be, in some fashion, incorrigible. On the contrary, for Grice, this or that lower-order, first-order judging is only a matter for privileged access. Note that while he is happy to allow privileged access to lower-order souly states, only those who are replicated at a higher-order or second-order may, in some fashion, be said to count as an incorrigible avowal. It rains. P judges it rains (privileged access). P judges that P judges that it rains (incorrigible). The justification is conversational. It rains says the P, or expresses the P. Grice wants to be able to say that if a P expresses that p, the P judges₂ that p. If the P expresses that it rains, the P judges that he judges that it rains. In this fashion, his second-order, higher-order judging is incorrigible, only. Although Grice may allow for it to be corrected by a third-order judging. It is not required that we should stick with judging here. Let Smith return the money that he owes to Jones. If P expresses !p, P ψ-s₂ that !p. His second-order, higher-order buletic state is incorrigible (if ceteris paribus is not corrected by a third-order buletic or doxastic state). His first-order buletic state is a matter only of privileged access. For a study of conversation as rational co-operation this utilitarian revival modifies the standard exegesis of Grice as purely Kantian, and has him more in agreement with the general Oxonian meta-ethical scene. Refs.: Under ‘futilitarianism,’ we cover Grice’s views on ‘pleasure’ (he has an essay on “Pleasure,”) and “eudaemonia” (He has an essay on ‘happiness’); other leads are given under ‘grecianism,’ since this is the Grecian side to Grice’s Ariskant; for specific essays on ‘pleasure,’ and ‘eudaimonia,’ the keywords ‘pleasure’ and ‘happiness’ are useful. A good source is the essay on happiness in “Aspects,” which combines ‘eudaemonia’ and ‘agreebleness,’ his futilitarianism turned Kantotelian. BANC.

conversational helpfulness: There is a fashion in which to help is to cooperate, but co-operate, strictly, requires operation by A and operation by B. We do use cooperate loosely. “She is very cooperative.” “Help” seems less formal. One can help without ever engaging or honouring the other’s goal. I can help you buy a house, say. So the principle of conversational cooperation is stricter and narrower than the principle of conversational helpfulness. Cooperation involves reciprocity and mutuality in a way that helpfulness does not. That’s why Grice needs to emphasise that there is an expectation of MUTUAL helpfulness. One is expected to be helpful, and one expects the other to be helpful. Grice was doubtful about the implicature of ‘co-operative,’ – after all, who at Oxford wants a ‘co-operative.’ It sounds anti-Oxonian. So Grice elaborates on ‘helping others’ and ‘assuming others will help you’ in the event that we ‘are doing something together.’ Does this equate cooperation, he wonders. Just in case, he uses ‘helpfulness’ as a variant. There are other concepts he plays with, notably ‘altruism,’ and ‘benevolence,’ or other-love.’Helpfulness is Grice’s favourite virtue. Grice is clear that reciprocity is essential here. One exhibits helpfulness and expects helpfulness from his conversational partner. He dedicates a set of seven lectures to it, entitled as follows. Lecture 1, Prolegomena; Lecture 2: Logic and Conversation; Lecture 3: Further notes on logic and conversation; Lecture 4: Indicative conditionals; Lecture 5: Us meaning and intentions; Lecture 6: Us meaning, sentence-meaning, and word-meaning; and Lecture 7: Some models for implicature. I hope they dont expect me to lecture on James! Grice admired James, but not vice versa. Grice entitled the set as being Logic and Conversation. That is the title, also, of the second lecture. Grice keeps those titles seeing that it was way the whole set of lectures were frequently cited, and that the second lecture had been published under that title in Davidson and Harman, The Logic of Grammar. The content of each lecture is indicated below. In the first, Grice manages to quote from Witters. In the last, he didnt!  The original set consisted of seven lectures. To wit: Prolegomena, Logic and conversation, Further notes on logic and conversation, Indicative Conditionals, Us meaning and intentions, Us meaning, sentence-meaning, and word meaning, and Some models for implicature. They were pretty successful at Oxford. While the notion of an implicatum had been introduced by Grice at Oxford, even in connection with a principle of conversational helpfulness, he takes the occasion now to explore the type of rationality involved. Observation of the principle of conversational helpfulness is rational (reasonable) along the following lines: anyone who cares about the two central goals to conversation (give/receive information, influence/be influened) is expected to have an interest in participating in a conversation that is only going to be profitable given that it is conducted along the lines set by the principle of conversational helpfulness. In Prolegomena he lists Austin, Strawson, Hare, Hart, and himself, as victims of a disregard for the implicatum. In the third lecture he introduces his razor, Senses are not to be muliplied beyond necessity. In Indicative conditionals he tackles Strawson on if as not representing the horse-shoe of Whitehead and Russell. The next two lectures on the meaning by the utterer and intentions, and meaning by the utterer, sentence-meaning, and word-meaning refine his earlier, more austere, account of this particularly Peirceian phenomenon. He concludes the lectures with an exploration on the relevance of the implicatum to philosophical psychology. Grice was well aware that many philosophers had become enamoured with the s. and would love to give it a continuous perusal. The set is indeed grandiose. It starts with a Prolegomena to set the scene: He notably quotes himself in it, which helps, but also Strawson, which sort of justifies the general title. In the second lecture, Logic and Conversation, he expands on the principle of conversational helpfulness and the explicitum/implicatum distinction – all very rationalist! The third lecture is otiose in that he makes fun of Ockham: Senses are not to be multiplied beyond necessity. The fourth lecture, on Indicative conditionals, is indeed on MOST of the formal devices he had mentioned on Lecture II, notably the functors (rather than the quantifiers and the iota operator, with which he deals in Presupposition and conversational implicature, since, as he notes, they refer to reference). This lecture is the centrepiece of the set. In the fifth lecture, he plays with mean, and discovers that it is attached to the implicatum or the implicitum. In the sixth lecture, he becomes a nominalist, to use Bennetts phrase, as he deals with dog and shaggy in terms of this or that resultant procedure. Dont ask me what they are! Finally, in “Some models for implicature,” he attacks the charge of circularity, and refers to nineteenth-century explorations on the idea of thought without language alla Wundt. I dont think a set of James lectures had even been so comprehensive! Conversational helpfulness. This is Grice at his methodological best. He was aware that the type of philosophying he was about to criticise wass a bit dated, but whats wrong with being old-fashioned? While this may be seen as a development of his views on implicature at that seminal Oxford seminar, it may also be seen as Grice popularising the views for a New-World, non-Oxonian audience. A discussion of Oxonian philosophers of the play group of Grice, notably Austin, Hare, Hart, and Strawson. He adds himself for good measure (“Causal theory”). Philosophers, even at Oxford, have to be careful with the attention that is due to general principles of discourse. Grice quotes philosophers of an earlier generation, such as Ryle, and some interpreters or practitioners of Oxonian analysis, such as Benjamin and Searle. He even manages to quote from Witterss Philosophical investigations, on seeing a banana as a banana. There are further items in the Grice collection that address Austins manoeuvre, Austin on ifs and cans, Ifs and cans, : conditional, power.  Two of Grices favourites. He opposed Strawsons view on if. Grice thought that if was the horseshoe of Whitehead and Russell, provided we add an implicatum to an entailment. The can is merely dispositional, if not alla Ryle, alla Grice! Ifs and cans, intention, disposition. Austin had brought the topic to the fore as an exploration of free will. Pears had noted that conversational implicature may account for the conditional perfection (if yields iff). Cf. Ayers on Austin on if and can. Recall that for Grice the most idiomatic way to express a disposition is with the Subjectsive mode, the if, and the can ‒ The ice can break. Cf. the mistake: It is not the case that what you must do, you can do. The can-may distinction is one Grice played with too. As with will and shall, the attachment of one mode to one of the lexemes is pretty arbitrary and not etymologically justified ‒ pace Fowler on it being a privilege of this or that Southern Englishman as Fowler is. If he calls it Prolegomena, he is being jocular. Philosophers Mistakes would have been too provocative. Benjamin, or rather Broad, erred, and so did Ryle, and Ludwig Witters, and my friends, Austin (the mater that wobbled), and in order of seniority, Hart (I heard him defend this about carefully – stopping at every door in case a dog comes out at breakneck speed), Hare (To say good is to approve), and Strawson (“Logical theory”: To utter if p, q is to implicate some inferrability, To say true! is to endorse – Analysis). If he ends with Searle, he is being jocular. He quotes Searle from an essay in British philosophy in Lecture I, and from an essay in Philosophy in America in Lecture V. He loved Searle, and expands on the Texas oilmens club example! We may think of Grice as a linguistic botanizer or a meta-linguistic botanizer: his hobby was to collect philosophers mistakes, and he catalogued them. In Causal theory he produces his first list of seven. The pillar box seems red to me. One cannot see a dagger as a dagger. Moore didnt know that the objects before him were his own hands. What is actual is not also possible. For someone to be called responsible, his action should be condemnable. A cause must be given only of something abnormal or unusual (cf. ætiology). If you know it, you dont believe it. In the Prolegomena, the taxonomy is more complicated. Examples A (the use of an expression, by Austin, Benjamin, Grice, Hart, Ryle, Wittgenstein), Examples B (Strawson on and, or, and especially if), and Examples C (Strawson on true and Hare on good – the performative theories). But even if his taxonomy is more complicated, he makes it more SO by giving other examples as he goes on to discuss how to assess the philosophical mistake. Cf. his elaboration on trying, I saw Mrs. Smith cashing a cheque, Trying to cash a cheque, you mean. Or cf. his remarks on remember, and There is an analogy here with a case by Wittgenstein. In summary, he wants to say. Its the philosopher who makes his big mistake. He has detected, as Grice has it, some conversational nuance. Now he wants to exploit it. But before rushing ahead to exploit the conversational nuance he has detected, or identified, or collected in his exercise of linguistic botanising, the philosopher should let us know with clarity what type of a nuance it is. For Grice wants to know that the nuance depends on a general principle (of goal-directed behaviour in general, and most likely rational) governing discourse – that participants in a conversation should be aware of, and not on some minutiæ that has been identified by the philosopher making the mistake, unsystematically, and merely descriptively, and taxonomically, but without ONE drop of explanatory adequacy. The fact that he directs this to his junior Strawson is the sad thing. The rest are all Grices seniors! The point is of philosophical interest, rather than other. And he keeps citing philosophers, Tarski or Ramsey, in the third James leture, to elaborate the point about true in Prolegomena. He never seems interested in anything but an item being of philosophical interest, even if that means HIS and MINE! On top, he is being Oxonian: Only at Oxford my colleagues were so obsessed, as it has never been seen anywhere else, about the nuances of conversation. Only they were all making a big mistake in having no clue as to what the underlying theory of conversation as rational co-operation would simplify things for them – and how! If I introduce the explicatum as a concession, I shall hope I will be pardoned! Is Grices intention epagogic, or diagogic in Prolegomena? Is he trying to educate Strawson, or just delighting in proving Strawson wrong? We think the former. The fact that he quotes himself shows that Grice is concerned with something he still sees, and for the rest of his life will see, as a valid philosophical problem. If philosophy generated no problems it would be dead. Refs.: The main sources are the two sets on ‘logic and conversation.’ There are good paraphrases in other essays when he summarises his own views, as he did at Urbana. The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

conversational imperative: What was the Greek for ‘imperative mode’? προστακτική prostaktike. προσ-τακτικός , ή, όν, A.of or for commanding, imperative, imperious, τὸ π. [ἡ ψυχή], opp. τὸ ὑπηρετικόν (of the body), Arist.Top.128b19; “π. τινῶν” Corn.ND16; “λόγος” Plu.2.1037f; Προστακτικός (sc. λόγος), title of work by Protagoras, D.L.9.55; “βραχυλογία” Plu.Phoc.5; also of persons, “ἄρχων” Max.Tyr.13.2 (Sup.). II. Gramm., ἡ -κὴ ἔγκλισις the imperative mood, D.T.638.7, A.D.Synt.31.20; π. ἐκφορὰ τῶν ῥημάτων ib.69.20; “τὸ π. σχῆμα” Anon.Fig.24; also “τὸ -κόν” D.L. 7.66,67, Ps.-Plu.Vit.Hom.53. Adv. “-κῶς” in the imperative mood, D.H.4.18, Sch.Ar.Av.1163.Grice became famous for his ‘maxims,’ which in Nowell-Smith’s view they are more like rules of etiquette for sylish conversation. As such, many had been proposed. But Grice proposes them AS A PHILOSOPHER would, and ONLY TO REBUFF the mistake made by this or that philosopher who would rather EXPLAIN the phenomenon in terms OTHER than involving as PART OF THE DATA, i. e. as a datum (as he says) or assumption, that there are these ‘assumptions,’ which guide behaviour. Grice is having in mind Kant’s “Imperativ.” He also uses ‘conversational objective.” In most versions that Grice provides of the ‘general expectations’ of rational discourse, he chooses the obvious imperative form. On occasion he does use ‘imperative.’ Grice is vague as to the term of choice for this or that ‘expectation.’ According to Strawson, Grice even once used ‘conversational rule,’ and he does use ‘conversational rule of the conversational game of making this or that conversational move.’ Notably, he also uses ‘conversational principle,’ and ‘conversational desideratum.’ And ‘maxim’! And ‘conversational directive (371), and ‘conversational obligation’ (369). By ‘conversational maxim,’ he means ‘conversational maxim.’ He uses ‘conversational sub-maxim’ very occasionally. He rather uses ‘conversational super-maxim.’ He uses ‘immanuel,’ and he uses ‘conversational immanuel.’ It is worth noting that the choice of word influences the exegesis. Loar takes these things to be ‘empirical generalisations over functional states’! And Grice agrees that there is a dull, empiricist way, in which these things can be seen as things people conform to. There is a quasi-contractualist approach to: things people convene on. And there is an Ariskantian approach: things people SHOULD abide by. Surely Grice is not requiring that the conversationalists ARE explicitly or consciously AWARE of these things. There is a principle of effort of economical reason to cope with that!

conversational implicatum. Or implicitum. Grice is being philosophical and sticking with ‘implicatio’ as used by logicians. Implicitum does not have much of a philosophical pedigree. But even ‘implicatio’ was not THAT used, ‘consequentia’ was preferred, as in ‘non sequitur, and seguitur, quod demonstrandumm erat. Strawson criticism of ‘the,’ only tentative by Grice, unlike ‘if,’ so forgivable! See common-ground status. Grice loved an implicatum. The use of ‘conversational’ by Grice is NEVER emphatic. In his detailed, even fastidious, taxonomy of ‘implication,’ he decisively does not want to have a mere conventional implicatum (as in “She was poor but she was honest”) as conversational. Not even a “Thank you”, generated by the maxim “be polite.” That would be an implicatum which is nonconventional and yet NOT conversational, because ‘be polite’ is NOT a conversational maxim (moral, aesthetic, and social maxims are not). And an implicature. An elaboration of his Oxonian seminar on Logic and conversation. Theres a principle of conversational helpfulness, which includes a desideratum of conversational candour and a desideratum of conversational clarity, and the sub-principle of conversational self-interest clashing with the sub-principle of conversational benevolence. The whole point of the manoeuvre is to provide a rational basis for a conversational implicatum, as his term of art goes. Observation of the principle of conversational helpfulness is rational/reasonable along the following lines: anyone who is interested in the two goals conversation is supposed to serve ‒ give/receive information, influence/be influenced ‒ should only care to enter a conversation that will be only profitable under the assumption that it is conducted in accordance with the principle of conversational helfpulness, and attending desiderata and sub-principles. Grice takes special care in listing tests for the proof that an implicatum is conversational in this rather technical usage: a conversational implicatum is rationally calculable (it is the content of a psychological state, attitude or stance that the addressee assigns to the utterer on condition that he is being helpful), non-detachable, indeterminate, and very cancellable, thus never part of the sense and never an entailment of this or that piece of philosophical vocabulary, in Davidson and Harman, the logic of Grammar, also in Cole and Morgan, repr. in a revised form in Grice, logic and conversation, the second James lecture, : principle of conversational helpfulness, implicatum, cancellability. While the essay was also repr. by Cole and Morgan. Grice always cites it from the two-column reprint in The Logic of Grammar, ed. by Davidson and Harman. Most people without a philosophical background first encounter Grice through this essay. A philosopher usually gets first acquainted with his In defence of a dogma, or Meaning. In Logic and Conversation, Grice re-utilises the notion of an implicatum and the principle of conversational helpfulness that he introduced at Oxford to a more select audience. The idea Grice is that the observation of the principle of conversational helfpulness is rational (reasonable) along the following lines: anyone who is concerned with the two goals which are central to conversation (to give/receive information, to influence/be influenced) should be interested in participating in a conversation that is only going to be profitable on the assumption that it is conducted along the lines of the principle of conversational helfpulness. Grices point is methodological. He is not at all interested in conversational exchanges as such. Unfortunately, the essay starts in media res, and skips Grices careful list of Oxonian examples of disregard for the key idea of what a conversant implicates by the conversational move he makes. His concession is that there is an explicatum or explicitum (roughly, the logical form) which is beyond pragmatic constraints. This concession is easily explained in terms of his overarching irreverent, conservative, dissenting rationalism. This lecture alone had been read by a few philosophers leaving them confused. I do not know what Davidson and Harman were thinking when they reprinted just this in The logic of grammar. I mean: it is obviously in media res. Grice starts with the logical devices, and never again takes the topic up. Then he explores metaphor, irony, and hyperbole, and surely the philosopher who bought The logic of grammar must be left puzzled. He has to wait sometime to see the thing in full completion. Oxonian philosophers would, out of etiquette, hardly quote from unpublished material! Cohen had to rely on memory, and thats why he got all his Grice wrong! And so did Strawson in If and the horseshoe. Even Walker responding to Cohen is relying on memory. Few philosophers quote from The logic of grammar. At Oxford, everybody knew what Grice was up to. Hare was talking implicature in Mind, and Pears was talking conversational implicature in Ifs and cans. And Platts was dedicating a full chapter to “Causal Theory”. It seems the Oxonian etiquette was to quote from Causal Theory. It was obvious that Grices implication excursus had to read implicature! In a few dictionaries of philosophy, such as Hamlyns, under implication, a reference to Grices locus classicus Causal theory is made – Passmore quotes from Causal theory in Hundred years of philosophy. Very few Oxonians would care to buy a volume published in Encino. Not many Oxonian philosophers ever quoted The logic of grammar, though. At Oxford, Grices implicata remained part of the unwritten doctrines of a few. And philosophers would not cite a cajoled essay in the references. The implicatum allows a display of truth-functional Grice. For substitutional-quantificational Grice we have to wait for his treatment of the. In Prolegomena, Grice had quoted verbatim from Strawsons infamous idea that there is a sense of inferrability with if. While the lecture covers much more than if (He only said if; Oh, no, he said a great deal more than that! the title was never meant to be original. Grice in fact provides a rational justification for the three connectives (and, or, and if) and before that, the unary functor not. Embedding, Indicative conditionals: embedding, not and If, Sinton on Grice on denials of indicative conditionals, not, if. Strawson had elaborated on what he felt was a divergence between Whiteheads and Russells horseshoe, and if. Grice thought Strawsons observations could be understood in terms of entailment + implicatum (Robbing Peter to Pay Paul). But problems, as first noted to Grice, by Cohen, of Oxford, remain, when it comes to the scope of the implicatum within the operation of, say, negation. Analogous problems arise with implicata for the other earlier dyadic functors, and and or, and Grice looks for a single explanation of the phenomenon.  The qualification indicative is modal. Ordinary language allows for if utterances to be in modes other than the imperative. Counter-factual, if you need to be philosophical krypto-technical, Subjectsive is you are more of a classicist! Grice took a cavalier to the problem: Surely it wont do to say You couldnt have done that, since you were in Seattle, to someone who figuratively tells you hes spend the full summer cleaning the Aegean stables. This, to philosophers, is the centerpiece of the lectures. Grice takes good care of not, and, or, and concludes with the if of the title. For each, he finds a métier, alla Cook Wilson in Statement and Inference. And they all connect with rationality. So he is using material from his Oxford seminars on the principle of conversational helpfulness. Plus Cook Wilson makes more sense at Oxford than at Harvard! The last bit, citing Kripke and Dummett, is meant as jocular. What is important is the teleological approach to the operators, where a note should be made about dyadicity. In Prolegomena, when he introduces the topic, he omits not (about which he was almost obsessed!). He just gives an example for and (He went to bed and took off his dirty boots), one for or (the garden becomes Oxford and the kitchen becomes London, and the implicatum is in terms, oddly, of ignorance: My wife is either in town or country,making fun of Town and Country), and if. His favourite illustration for if is Cock Robin: If the Sparrow did not kill him, the Lark did! This is because Grice is serious about the erotetic, i.e. question/answer, format Cook Wilson gives to things, but he manages to bring Philonian and Megarian into the picture, just to impress! Most importantly, he introduces the square brackets! Hell use them again in Presupposition and Conversational Implicature and turns them into subscripts in Vacuous Namess. This is central. For he wants to impoverish the idea of the implicatum. The explicitum is minimal, and any divergence is syntactic-cum-pragmatic import. The scope devices are syntactic and eliminable, and as he knows: what the eye no longer sees, the heart no longer grieves for!  The modal implicatum. Since Grice uses indicative, for the title of his third James lecture (Indicative Conditionals) surely he implicates subjunctive  ‒ i.e. that someone might be thinking that he should give an account of indicative-cum-subjective. This relates to an example Grice gives in Causal theory, that he does not reproduce in Prolegomena. Grice states the philosophical mistake as follows. What is actual is not also possible. Grice seems to be suggesting that a subjective conditional would involve one or other of the modalities, he is not interested in exploring. On the other hand, Mackie has noted that Grices conversationalist hypothesis (Mackie quotes verbatim from Grices principle of conversational helpfulness) allows for an explanation of the Subjectsive if that does not involve Kripke-type paradoxes involving possible worlds, or other. In Causal Theory, Grice notes that the issue with which he has been mainly concerned may be thought rather a fine point, but it is certainly not an isolated one. There are several philosophical theses or dicta which would he thinks need to be examined in order to see whether or not they are sufficiently parallel to the thesis which Grice has been discussing to be amenable to treatment of the same general kind. An examples which occurs to me is the following. What is actual is not also possible. I must emphasise that I am not saying that this example is importantly similar to the thesis which I have been criticizing, only that, for all I know, it may be. To put the matter more generally, the position adopted by Grices objector seems to Grice to involve a type of manoeuvre which is characteristic of more than one contemporary mode of philosophizing. He is not condemning that kind of manoeuvre. He is merely suggesting that to embark on it without due caution is to risk collision with the facts. Before we rush ahead to exploit the linguistic nuances which we have detected, we should make sure that we are reasonably clear what sort of nuances they are. If was also of special interest to Grice for many other reasons. He defends a dispositional account of intending that in terms of ifs and cans. He considers akrasia conditionally. He explored the hypothetical-categorical distinction in the buletic mode. He was concerned with therefore as involved with the associated if of entailment. Refs.: “Implicatum” is introduced in Essay 2 in WoW – but there are scattered references elsewhere. He often uses the plural ‘implicata’ too, as in “Retrospective Epilogue,” The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC. An implicatum requires a complexum. Frege was the topic of the explorations by Dummett. 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 will not. 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. That is 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 do not want the “.” in p to become a vanishing sign. 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 the utterance by Jill: Jack is an Englishman; he is, therefore, brave. This is interesting because therefore compares to so which Strawson, in PGRICE, claims is the asserted counterpart to if. But Strawson is never associated with the type of linguistic botany that Grice is. Grice also mentions the idiom, on the one hand/on the other hand, in some detail in “Epilogue”: My aunt was a nurse in the Great War; my sister, on the other hand, lives on a peak at Darien. Grice thinks that Frege misuses the use-mention distinction but Russell corrects that. Grice bases this on Church. And of course he is obsessed with the assertion sign by Frege, which Grice thinks has one stroke tooo many. The main reference is give above for ‘complexum.’ Those without a philosophical background tend to ignore a joke by Grice. His echoing Kant in the James is a joke, in the sense that he is using Katns well-known to be pretty artificial quartet of ontological caegories to apply to a totally different phenomenon: the taxonomy of the maxims! In his earlier non-jocular attempts, he applied more philosophical concepts with a more serious rationale. His key concept, conversation as rational co-operation, underlies all his attempts. A pretty worked-out model is in terms then of this central, or overarching principle of conversational helpfulness (where conversation as cooperation need not be qualified as conversation as rational co-operation) and being structured by two contrasting sub-principles: the principle of conversational benevolence (which almost overlaps with the principle of conversational helpfulness) and the slightly more jocular principle of conversational self-love. There is something oxymoronic about self-love being conversational, and this is what leads to replace the two subprinciples by a principle of conversational helfpulness (as used in WoW:IV) simpliciter. His desideratum of conversational candour is key. The clash between the desideratum of conversational candour and the desideratum of conversational clarity (call them supermaxims) explains why I believe that p (less clear than p) shows the primacy of candour over clarity. The idea remains of an overarching principle and a set of more specific guidelines. Non-Oxonian philosophers would see Grices appeal to this or that guideline as ad hoc, but not his tutees! Grice finds inspiration in Joseph Butler’s sermon on benevolence and self-love, in his sermon 9, upon the love of our neighbour, preached on advent Sunday. And if there be any other commandment, it is briefly comprehended in this saying, Namesly, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself, Romans xiii. 9. It is commonly observed, that there is a disposition in men to complain of the viciousness and corruption of the age in which they live, as greater than that of former ones: which is usually followed with this further observation, that mankind has been in that respect much the same in all times. Now, to determine whether this last be not contradicted by the accounts of history: thus much can scarce be doubted, that vice and folly takes different turns, and some particular kinds of it are more open and avowed in some ages than in others; and, I suppose, it may be spoken of as very much the distinction of the present, to profess a contracted spirit, and greater regards to self-interest, than appears to have been done formerly. Upon this account it seems worth while to inquire, whether private interest is likely to be promoted in proportion to the degree in which self-love engrosses us, and prevails over all other principles; "or whether the contracted affection may not possibly be so prevalent as to disappoint itself, and even contradict its own end, private good?" Repr. in revised form as WOW, I. Grice felt the need to go back to his explantion (cf. Fisher, Never contradict. Never explain) of the nuances about seem and cause (“Causal theory”.). Grice uses ‘My wife is in the kitchen or the bedroom,’ by Smith, as relying on a requirement of discourse. But there must be more to it. Variations on a theme by Grice. Make your contribution such as is required, at the stage at which it occurs, by the accepted purpose or direction of the talk exchange in which you are engaged. Variations on a theme by Grice. I wish to represent a certain subclass of non-conventional implicaturcs, which I shall call conversational implicaturcs, as being essentially connected with certain general features of discourse; so my next step is to try to say what these features are. The following may provide a first approximation to a general principle. Our talk exchanges do not normally consist of a succession of disconnected remarks, and would not be rational if they did. They are characteristically, to some degree at least, cooperative efforts; and each participant recognizes in them, to some extent, a common purpose or set of purposes, or at least a mutually accepted direction. This purpose or direction may be fixed from the start (e.g., by an initial proposal of a question for discussion), or it may evolve during the exchange; it may be fairly definite, or it may be so indefinite as to leave very considerable latitude to the participants, as in a casual conversation. But at each stage, some possible conversational moves would be excluded as conversationally unsuitable. We might then formulate a rough general principle which participants will be expected ceteris paribus to observe, viz.: Make your conversational contribution such as is required, at the stage at which it occurs, by the accepted purpose or direction of the talk exchange in which you are engaged. One might label this the co-operative principle. We might then formulate a rough general principle which participants will be expected ceteris paribus to observe, viz.:  Make your contribution such as is required, at the stage at which it occurs, by the accepted purpose or direction of the talk exchange in which you are engaged. One might label this the Cooperative Principle. Strictly, the principle itself is not co-operative: conversants are. Less literary variant: Make your move such as is required by the accepted goal of the conversation in which you are engaged. But why logic and conversation? Logica had been part of the trivium for ages ‒ Although they called it dialectica, then. Grice on the seven liberal arts. Moved by Strawsons treatment of the formal devices in “Introduction to logical theory” (henceforth, “Logical theory”), Grice targets these, in their ordinary-discourse counterparts. Strawson indeed characterizes Grice as his logic tutor – Strawson was following a PPE., and his approach to logic is practical. His philosophy tutor was Mabbott. For Grice, with a M. A. Lit. Hum. the situation is different. Grice knows that the Categoriae and De Int. of his beloved Aristotle are part of the Logical Organon which had been so influential in the history of philosophy. Grice attempts to reconcile Strawsons observations with the idea that the formal devices reproduce some sort of explicatum, or explicitum, as identified by Whitehead and Russell in Principia Mathematica. In the proceedings, Grice has to rely on some general features of discourse, or conversation as a rational co-operation. The alleged divergence between the ordinary-language operators and their formal counterparts is explained in terms of the conversational implicata, then. I.e. the content of the psychological attitude that the addressee A has to ascribe to the utterer U to account for any divergence between the formal device and its alleged ordinary-language counterpart, while still assuming that U is engaged in a co-operative transaction. The utterer and his addressee are seen as caring for the mutual goals of conversation  ‒ the exchange of information and the institution of decisions  ‒ and judging that conversation will only be profitable (and thus reasonable and rational) if conducted under some form of principle of conversational helpfulness. The observation of a principle of  conversational helpfulness is reasonable (rational) along the following lines: anyone who cares about the goals that are central to conversation/communication (such as giving and receiving information, influencing and being influenced by others) must be expected to have an interest, given suitable circumstances, in participating in a conversation that will be profitable ONLY on the assumption that it is conducted in general accordance with a principle of conversational helpfulness. In titling his seminar Logic and conversation, Grice is thinking Strawson. After all, in the seminal “Logical theory,” that every Oxonian student was reading, Strawson had the cheek to admit that he never ceased to learn logic from his tutor, Grice. Yet he elaborates a totally anti Griceian view of things. To be fair to Strawson, the only segment where he acknwoledges Grices difference of opinion is a brief footnote, concerning the strength or lack thereof, of this or that quantified utterance. Strawson uses an adjective that Grice will seldom do, pragmatic. On top, Strawson attributes the adjective to rule. For Grice, in Strawsons wording, there is this or that pragmatic rule to the effect that one should make a stronger rather than a weaker conversational move. Strawsons Introduction was published before Grice aired his views for the Aristotelian Society. In this seminar then Grice takes the opportunity to correct a few misunderstandings. Important in that it is Grices occasion to introduce the principle of conversational helpfulness as generating implicata under the assumption of rationality. The lecture makes it obvious that Grices interest is methodological, and not philological. He is not interest in conversation per se, but only as the source for his principle of conversational helpfulness and the notion of the conversational implicatum, which springs from the distinction between what an utterer implies and what his expression does, a distinction apparently denied by Witters and all too frequently ignored by Austin. Logic and conversation, an Oxford seminar, implicatum, principle of conversational helpfulness, eywords: conversational implicature, conversational implicatum. Conversational Implicature Grices main invention, one which trades on the distinction between what an utterer implies and what his expression does. A distinction apparently denied by Witters, and all too frequently ignored by, of all people, Austin. Grice is implicating that Austins sympathies were for the Subjectsification of Linguistic Nature. Grice remains an obdurate individualist, and never loses sight of the distinction that gives rise to the conversational implicatum, which can very well be hyper-contextualised, idiosyncratic, and perfectly particularized. His gives an Oxonian example. I can very well mean that my tutee is to bring me a philosophical essay next week by uttering It is raining.Grice notes that since the object of the present exercise, is to provide a bit of theory which will explain, for a certain family of cases, why is it that a particular implicature is present, I would suggest that the final test of the adequacy and utility of this model should be: can it be used to construct an explanation of the presence of such an implicature, and is it more comprehensive and more economical than any rival? is the no doubt pre-theoretical explanation which one would be prompted to give of such an implicature consistent with, or better still a favourable pointer towards the requirements involved in the model? cf. Sidonius: Far otherwise: whoever disputes with you will find those protagonists of heresy, the Stoics, Cynics, and Peripatetics, shattered with their own arms and their own engines; for their heathen followers, if they resist the doctrine and spirit of Christianity, will, under your teaching, be caught in their own familiar entanglements, and fall headlong into their own toils; the barbed syllogism of your arguments will hook the glib tongues of the casuists, and it is you who will tie up their slippery questions in categorical clews, after the manner of a clever physician, who, when compelled by reasoned thought, prepares antidotes for poison even from a serpent.qvin potivs experietvr qvisqve conflixerit stoicos cynicos peripateticos hæresiarchas propriis armis propriis qvoqve concvti machiNamesntis nam sectatores eorum Christiano dogmati ac sensvi si repvgnaverint mox te magistro ligati vernaculis implicaturis in retia sua præcipites implagabvntur syllogismis tuæ propositionis vncatis volvbilem tergiversantvm lingvam inhamantibvs dum spiris categoricis lubricas qvæstiones tv potivs innodas acrivm more medicorvm qui remedivm contra venena cum ratio compellit et de serpente conficivnt. If he lectured on Logic and Conversation on implicature, Grice must have thought that Strawsons area was central. Yet, as he had done in Causal theory and as he will at Harvard, Grice kept collecting philosophers mistakes. So its best to see Grice as a methodologist, and as using logic and conversation as an illustration of his favourite manoeuvre, indeed, central philosophical manoeuver that gave him a place in the history of philosophy. Restricting this manoeuvre to just an area minimises it. On the other hand, there has to be a balance: surely logic and conversation is a topic of intrinsic interest, and we cannot expect all philosophers – unless they are Griceians – to keep a broad unitarian view of philosophy as  a virtuous whole. Philosophy, like virtue, is entire. Destructive implicature to it: Mr. Puddle is our man in æsthetics implicates that he is not good at it. What is important to Grice is that the mistakes of these philosophers (notably Strawson!) arise from some linguistic phenomena, or, since we must use singular expressions this or that linguistic phenomenon. Or as Grice puts it, it is this or that linguistic phenomenon which provides the material for the philosopher to make his mistake! So, to solve it, his theory of conversation as rational co-operation is posited – technically, as a way to explain (never merely describe, which Grice found boring ‒ if English, cf. never explain, never apologise ‒ Jacky Fisher: Never contradict. Never explain.) these phenomena – his principle of conversational helpfulness and the idea of a conversational implicatum. The latter is based not so much on rationality per se, but on the implicit-explicit distinction that he constantly plays with, since his earlier semiotic-oriented explorations of Peirce. But back to this or that linguistic phenomenon, while he would make fun of Searle for providing this or that linguistic phenomenon that no philosopher would ever feel excited about, Grice himself was a bit of a master in illustrating this a philosophical point with this or that linguistic phenomenon that would not be necessarily connected with philosophy. Grice rarely quotes authors, but surely the section in “Causal theory,” where he lists seven philosophical theses (which are ripe for an implicatum treatment) would be familiar enough for anybody to be able to drop a names to attach to each. At Harvard, almost every example Grice gives of this or that linguistic phenomenon is UN-authored (and sometimes he expands on his own view of them, just to amuse his audience – and show how committed to this or that thesis he was), but some are not unauthored. And they all belong to the linguistic turn: In his three groups of examples, Grice quotes from Ryle (who thinks he knows about ordinary language), Witters, Austin (he quotes him in great detail, from Pretending, Plea of excuses, and No modification without aberration,), Strawson (in “Logical theory” and on Truth for Analysis), Hart (as I have heard him expand on this), Grice, Searle, and Benjamin. Grice implicates Hare on ‘good,’ etc. When we mention the explicit/implicit distinction as source for the implicatum, we are referring to Grices own wording in Retrospective epilogue where he mentions an utterer as conveying in some explicit fashion this or that, as opposed to a gentler, more (midland or southern) English, way, via implicature, or implIciture, if you mustnt. Cf. Fowler: As a southern Englishman, Ive stopped trying teaching a northern Englishman the distinction between ought and shall. He seems to get it always wrong. It may be worth exploring how this connects with rationality. His point would be that that an assumption that the rational principle of conversational helpfulness is in order allows P-1 not just to convey in a direct explicit fashion that p, but in an implicit fashion that q, where q is the implicatum. The principle of conversational helpfulness as generator of this or that implicata, to use Grices word (generate). Surely, He took off his boots and went to bed; I wont say in which order sounds hardly in the vein of conversational helpfulness – but provided Grice does not see it as logically incoherent, it is still a rational (if not reasonable) thing to say. The point may be difficult to discern, but you never know. The utterer may be conveying, Viva Boole. Grices point about rationality is mentioned in his later Prolegomena, on at least two occasions. Rational behaviour is the phrase he uses (as applied first to communication and then to discourse) and in stark opposition with a convention-based approach he rightly associates with Austin. Grice is here less interested here as he will be on rationality, but coooperation as such. Helpfulness as a reasonable expecation (normative?), a mutual one between decent chaps, as he puts it. His charming decent chap is so Oxonian. His tutee would expect no less ‒ and indeed no more! A rather obscure exploration on the connection of semiotics and philosophical psychology. Grice is aware that there is an allegation in the air about a possible vicious circle in trying to define category of expression in terms of a category of representation. He does not provide a solution to the problem which hell take up in his Method in philosophical psychology, in his role of President of the APA. It is the implicatum behind the lecture that matters, since Grice will go back to it, notably in the Retrospective Epilogue. For Grice, its all rational enough. Theres a P, in a situation, say of danger – a bull ‒. He perceives the bull. The bulls attack causes this perception. Bull! the P₁ G1 screams, and causes in P₂ G2 a rearguard movement. So where is the circularity? Some pedants would have it that Bull cannot be understood in a belief about a bull which is about a bull. Not Grice. It is nice that he brought back implicature, which had become obliterated in the lectures, back to title position! But it is also noteworthy, that these are not explicitly rationalist models for implicature. He had played with a model, and an explanatory one at that, for implicature, in his Oxford seminar, in terms of a principle of conversational helpfulness, a desideratum of conversational clarity, a desideratum of conversational candour, and two sub-principles: a principle of conversational benevolence, and a principle of conversational self-interest! Surely Harvard could be spared of the details! Implicature. Grice disliked a presupposition. BANC also contains a folder 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 are on language and reality. Grice keeps 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. A beliefs by a communicator worth communicating has to be true. An order by a communicator worth communicating has to be satisfactory. The fourth lecture is the one Grice dates in WOW . Smith has not ceased from beating his wife, presupposition and conversational implicature, in Radical pragmatics, ed. by R. Cole, repr. in a revised form in Grice, WOW, II, Explorations in semantics and metaphysics, essay, presupposition and implicature, presupposition, conversational implicature, implicature, Strawson. Grice: The loyalty examiner will not summon you, do not worry. The cancellation by Grice 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 was variously reprinted, but the Urbana 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 that 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 ain’t bald. What made you think he is? For starters, he ain’t real! Grice credits 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. The success by Russell 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 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. 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 WOW 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. The main reference is Essay 2 in WoW, but there are scattered references elsewhere. Refs.: The main sources are the two sets of ‘logic and conversation,’ in BANC, but there are scattered essays on ‘implicature’ simpliciter, too --  “Presupposition and conversational implicature,” c. 2-f. 25; and “Convesational implicature,” c. 4-f. 9, “Happiness, discipline, and implicatures,” c. 7-f. 6; “Presupposition and implicature,” c. 9-f. 3, The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

conversational maxim. They don’t need to be necessarily independent (Strawson Wiggins p.520).  Grice is echoing Kant. Maximen (subjektive Grundsätze): selbstgesetzte Handlungsregeln, die ein Wollen ausdrücken, vs. Imperative (objektive Grundsätze): durch praktische Vernunft bestimmt; Ratschläge, moralisch relevante Grundsätze. („das Gesetz aber ist das objektive Prinzip, gültig für jedes vernünftige Wesen, und der Grundsatz, nach dem es handeln soll, d. i. ein Imperativ.“) das Problem ist jedoch die Subjektivität der Maxime. When considering Grice’s concept of a ‘conversational maxim,’ one has to be careful. First, he hesitated as to the choice of the label. He used ‘objective’ and ‘desideratum’ before. And while few cite this, in WoW:PandCI he adds one – leading the number of maxims to ten, what he called the ‘conversational catalogue.’ So when exploring the maxims, it is not necessary to see their dependence on the four functions that Kant tabulated: quantitas, qualitas, relatio, and modus, or quantity, quality, relation, and mode (Grice follows Meiklejohn’s translation), but in terms of their own formulation, one by one. Grice formulates the overarching principle: “We might then formulate a rough general principle which participants will be expected (ceteris paribus) to observe, namely: Make your conversational contribution such as is required, at the stage at which it occurs, by the accepted purpose or direction of the talk exchange in which you are engaged. One might label this the COOPEHATIVE PIUNCIPLE.”He then goes on to introduce the concept of a ‘conversational maxim.’“On the assumption that some such general principle as this is acceptable, one may perhaps distinguish four categories under one or another of which will fall certain more specific MAXIMS maxims and submaxims, the following of which will, in general, yield results in accordance with the Cooperative Principle.” Note that in his comparative “more specific maxims,” he is implicating that, in terms of the force, the principle is a MAXIM. Had he not wanted this implicature, he could have expressed it as: “On the assumption that some such general principle as this is acceptable, one may perhaps distinguish four categories under one or another of which will fall certain MAXIMS.” He is comparing the principle with the maxims in terms of ‘specificity.’ I.e. the principle is the ‘summun genus,’ as it were, the category is the ‘inferior genus,’ and the maxim is the ‘species infima.’He is having in mind something like arbor porphyriana. For why otherwise care to distinguish in the introductory passage, between ‘maxims and submaxims.’ This use of ‘submaxim’ is very interesting. Because it is unique. He would rather call the four maxims as SUPRA-maxims, supermaxim, or supramaxim. And leaving ‘maxim’ for what here he is calling the submaxim.Note that if one challenges the ‘species infima,’ one may proceed to distinguish this or that sub-sub-maxim falling under the maxim. Take “Do not say that for which you lack adequate evidence.” Since this, as he grants, applies mainly to informative cases, one may consider that it is actually a subsubmaxim. The submaxim would be: “Do not say that for which you are not entitled” (alla Nowell-Smith). And then provide one subsubmaxim for the desideratum: “Do not give an order which you are not entitled to give” or “Do not order that for you lack adequate authority,” and the other subsubmaxim for the creditum: “Do not say that for which you lack adequate evidence.”Grice: “Echoing Kant, I call these categories Quantity, Quality, Relation, and Manner.” Or Mode. “Manner” may be Ross’s translation of Aristotle’s ‘mode.’ Consider the exploration of Aristotle on ‘modus’ in Categoriae. It is such a mixed bag that surely ‘manner’ is not inappropriate!“The category of QUANTITY” – i. e. either the conversational category of quantity, or as one might prefer, the category of conversational quantity – “relates to the quantity of information to be provided,”So it’s not just ANY QUANTUM, as Aristotle or Kant, or Ariskant have it – just QUANTITY OF INFORMATION, whatever ‘information’ is, and how the quantity of information is to be assessed. E g. Grice surely shed doubts re: the pillar box seems red and the pillar box is red. He had till now used ‘strength,’ even ‘logical strength,’ in terms of entailment – and here, neither the phenomenalist nor the physicalist utterance entail the other.“and under it fall the following maxims:”That is, he goes straight to the ‘conversational maxim.’ He will provide supermaxim for the other three conversational categories.Why is the category of conversational quantity lacking a supermaxim?The reason is that it would seem redundant and verbose: ‘be appropriately informative.’ By having TWO maxims, he is playing with a weighing in, or balance between one maxim and the other. Cf.To say the truth, all the truth, and nothing but the truth.No more no less.One maximm states the ‘at most,’ the other maxim states the ‘at least.’One maxim states the ‘maxi,’ the other maxim states the ‘min.’ Together they state the ‘maximin.’First, “Make your contribution as informative as is required (for the current purposes of the exchange).”It’s the contribution which is informative, not the utterer. Cf. “Be as informative as is required.” Grice implicates that if you make your contribution as informative as is required YOU are being as informative as is required. But there is a category-shift here. Grice means, ‘required BY the goal of the exchange). e.g.How are youFine thanks – the ‘and you’ depends on whether you are willing to ‘keep the conversation going’ or your general mood. Second, “Do not make your contribution more informative than is required.”“ (The second maxim is disputable;”He goes on to give a different reason. But the primary reason is that “Do not make your contribution more informative than is required” is ENTAILED by “Make your contribution as informative as is required (for the current purposes of the exchange)” – vide R. M. Hare on “Imperative inferences” IN a diagram:Make your contribution as informative as is required (for the current purposes of the exchange)Therefore, do not make your contribution more informative than is required (by the current purposes of the exchange).Grice gives another reason (he will give yet a further one) why the maxim is ‘disputable.’“it might be said that to be overinformative is not a transgression of the CP but merely a waste of time.”For both conversationalists, who are thereby abiding by Ferraro’s law of the least conversational effort.”“A waste of time” relates to Grice’s previous elaborations on ‘undue effort’ and ‘unnecessary trouble.’He is proposing a conversational maximin.When he formulates his principle of economy of rational effort, it is a waste of ‘time and energy.’Here it is just ‘time.’ “Energy” is a more generic concept.“However, it might be answered that such overinformativeness may be confusing in that it is liable to raise side issues;”Methinks the lady doth protest too much.His example, “He was in a blacked out city.”It does not seem to relate to the pillar boxA: What color is the pillar boxB: It seems red.Such a ‘confusion’ and ‘side issue,’ if so designed, is part of the implicatum.“and there may also be an indirect effect, in that the hearers (or addressee) may be misled as a result of thinking that there is some particular POINT in the provision of the excess of information.”Cf. Peter Winch on “H. P. Grice’s Conversational Point.”More boringly, it is part of the utterer’s INTENTION to provide an excess of information.”This may be counterproductive, or not.“Meet Mr. Puddle”“Meet Mr. Puddle, our man in nineteenth-century continental philosophy.”The introducer point: to keep the conversation going.Effect on Grice: Mr. Puddle is hopeless at nineteenth-century continental philosophy (OR HE IS BEING UNDERDESCRIBED). One has to think of philosophically relevant examples here, which is all that Grice cares for. Malcolm says, “Moore knows it; because he’s seen it!” – Malcolm implicates that Grice will not take Malcolm’s word. So Malcom needs to provide the excess of information, and add, to his use of ‘know,’ which Malcolm claims Moore does not know how to use, the ‘reason’ – If knowledge is justified true belief, Malcolm is conveying explicitly that Moore knows and ONE OF THE CONDITIONS for it. Cf.I didn’t know you were pregnant.You still do not. (Here the cancellation is to the third clause). Grice: “However this may be, there is perhaps a different [second] reason for doubt about the admission of this second maxim, viz., that its effect will be secured by a later maxim, which concems relevance.)”He could be a lecturer. His use of ‘later’ entails he knows in advance what he is going to say. Cf. Foucault:“there is another reason to doubt. The effect is secured by a maxim concerning relevance.”No “later” about it!Grice:“Under the category of QUALITY falls a supermaxim” – he forgets to add, as per obvious, “The category of quality relates to the QUALITY of information.” In this way, there is some reference to Aristotle’s summumm genus. PROPOSITIO DEDICATIVA, PROPOSITIO ABDICATIVA, PROPOSITIO INFINITA. Cf. Apuleius and Boethius on QUALITAS of propositio. Dedicatio takes priority over abdicatio. So one expects one’s co-conversationalist to say that something IS the case. Note too, that, if he used “more specific maxims and submaxims,” he means “more specific supermaxims and maxims” – He is following Porophyry in being confusing! Cf. supramaxim. Grice “-'Try to make your contribution one that is true' –“This surely requires generality – and Grice spent the next two decades about it. He introduced the predicate ‘acceptability.’ “Try to make your contribution one that is acceptable”“True for your statements; good for your desiderative-mode utterances.”“and two more specific maxims:”“1. Do not say what you believe to be false.”There is logic here. It is easy to TRY to make your contribution one that is true.” And it is easy NOT to say what you believe to be false. Grice is forbidding Kant to have a maxim on us: “Be truthful!” “Say the true!” “MAKE – don’t just TRY – to make your contribution one that is true.”“I was only trying.”Cf. Moses, “Try not to kill” “Thou shalt trye not to kylle.”Grice:“2. Do not say that for which you lack adequate evidence.”This is involved with truth. In “Truth and other enigmas,” Dummett claims that truth is, er, an enigma. For some philosophers, all you can guarantee is that you have evidence. Lacking evidence for what?The qualification, “adequate,” turns the maxim slightly otiose. Do not say that for you lack evidence which would make your contribution not a true one.However, Grice is thinking Gettier. And Gettier allows that one CAN have ADEQUATE EVIDENCE, and p NOT be true.If we are talking ‘acceptability’ it’s more ‘ground’ or ‘reason’, rather than ‘evidential justification.’ Grice is especially obsessed with this, in his explorations on ‘intending,’ where ‘acceptance’ is deemed even in the lack of ‘evidential justification,’ and leaving him wondering what he means by ‘non-evidential justification.’“Under the category of RELATION I place a single maxim, viz., 'Be relevant.'”The category comes from Aristotle, ‘pros it.’ And ‘re-‘ in relation is cognate with ‘re-‘ in ‘relevant.’RELATION refers to ‘refer,’ Roman ‘referre.’ But in Anglo-Norman, you do have ‘relate’ qua verb. To ‘refer’ or ‘re-late,’ is to bring y back to x. As Russell well knows in his fight with Bradley’s theory of ‘relation,’ a relation involves x and y. A relation is a two-place predicate. What about X = xIs identity a relation, in the case of x = x?Can a thing relate to itself?In cases where we introduce two variables. The maxim states that one brings y back to x.“Mrs. Smith is an old windbag.”“The weather has been delightful for this time of year, hasn’t it.”If INTENDED to mean, “You ARE ignorant!,” then the conversationalist IS bring back “totally otiose remark about the weather” to the previous insulting comment.To utter an utterly irrelevant second move you have to be Andre Breton.“Though the maxim itself is terse, its formulation conceals a number of problems that exercise me a good deal: questions about what different kinds and focuses of relevance there may be, how these shift in the course of a talk exchange, how to allow for the fact that subjects of conversation are legitimately changed, and so on. I find the treatment of such questions exceedingly difficult, and I hope to revert to them in a later work.”He is having in mind Nowell-Smith, who had ‘be relevant’ as the most important of the rules of conversational etiquette, or how etiquette becomes logical. But Nowell-Smith felt overwhelmed by Grice and left for the north, to settle in the very fashionable Kent. Grice is also having in mind Urmson’s appositeness (Criteria of intensionality). “Why did you title your painting “Maga’s Daughter”? She’s your wife!” – and Grice is also having in mind P. F. Strawson and what Strawson has as the principle of relevance vis-à-vis the principles of presumption of ignorance and knowledge.So it was in the Oxonian air.“Finally, under the category of MODE, which I understand as relating not (like the previous categories) to what is said [THE CONTENT, THE EXPLICITUM, THE COMMUNICATUM, THE EXPLICATUM] but, rather, to HOW what is said is to be said,”Grice says that ‘meaning’ is diaphanous. An utterer means that p reduces to what an utterer means by x. This diaphanousness ‘meaning’ shares with ‘seeing.’ “To expand on the experience of seeing is just to expand on what is seen.’He is having the form-content distinction.If that is a distinction. This multi-layered dialectic displays the true nature of the speculative form/content distinction: all content is form and all form is content, not in a uniform way, but through being always more or less relatively indifferent or posited.    The Role of the Form/Content Distinction in Hegel's Science of ...deontologistics.files.wordpress.com › 2012/01 › formc... PDF Feedback About Featured Snippets Web results    The Form-Content Distinction in Moral Development Researchwww.karger.com › Article › PDF The form-content distinction is a potentially useful conceptual device for understanding certain characteristics of moral development. In the most general sense it ... by CG Levine - ‎1979 - ‎Cited by 25 - ‎Related articles    The Form-Content Distinction in Moral Development Research ...www.karger.com › Article › Abstract Dec 23, 2009 - The Form-Content Distinction in Moral Development Research. Levine C.G.. Author affiliations. University of Western Ontario, London, Ont. by CG Levine - ‎1979 - ‎Cited by 25 - ‎Related articles    Preschool children's mastery of the form/content distinction in ...www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov › pubmed Preschool children's mastery of the form/content distinction in communicative tasks. Hedelin L(1), Hjelmquist E. Author information: (1)Department of Psychology, ... by L Hedelin - ‎1998 - ‎Cited by 10 - ‎Related articles    Form and Content: An Introduction to Formal Logic - Digital ...digitalcommons.conncoll.edu › cgi › viewcontentPDF terminology has to do with anything. In this context, 'material' means having to do with content. This is our old friend, the form/content distinction again. Consider. by DD Turner - ‎2020    Simmel's Dialectic of Form and Content in Recent Work in ...www.tandfonline.com › doi › full May 1, 2019 - This suggests that for Simmel, the form/content distinction was not a dualism; instead, it was a duality.11 Ronald L. Breiger, “The Duality of ...    Are these distinctions between “form” and “content” intentionally ...www.reddit.com › askphilosophy › comments › are_th... The form/content distinction also doesn't quite fit the distinction between form and matter (say, in Aristotle), although Hegel develops the distinction between form ...    Preschool Children's Mastery of the Form/Content Distinction ...link.springer.com › article Preschoolers' mastery of the form/content distinction in language and communication, along its contingency on the characteristics of p. by L Hedelin - ‎1998 - ‎Cited by 10 - ‎Related articles    Verbal Art: A Philosophy of Literature and Literary Experiencebooks.google.com › books Even if form and content were in fact inseparable in the sense indicated, that would not make the form/content distinction unjustified. Form and matter are clearly ... Anders Pettersson - 2001 - ‎Literary Criticism    One Century of Karl Jaspers' General Psychopathologybooks.google.com › books He then outlines the most important implications of the form–content distinction in a statement which is identical in the first three editions, with only minor ... Giovanni Stanghellini, ‎Thomas Fuchs - 2013 - ‎Medical“I include the supermaxim-'Be perspicuous' –” Or supramaxim. So the “more specific maxims and submaxims” becomes the clumsier “supermaxims and maxims”Note that in under the first category it is about making your contribution, etc. Now it is the utterer himself who has to be ‘perspicuous,’ as it is the utterer who has to be relevant. It’s not the weaker, “Make your contribution a perspicuous one.” Or “Make your contribution a relevant one (to the purposes of the exchange).”Knowing that most confound ‘perspicacity’ with ‘perspicuity,’ he added “sic,” but forgot to pronounce it, in case it was felt as insulting. He has another ‘sic’ under the prolixity maxim.“and various maxims such as: The “such as” is a colloquialism.Surely it was added in the ‘lecture’ format. In written, it becomes viz. The fact that the numbers them makes for ‘such as’ rather disimplicatable. “1. Avoid obscurity of expression.”Unless you are Heracleitus. THEY told me, Heraclitus, they told me you were dead,                  /They brought me bitter news to hear and bitter tears to shed./I wept as I remember'd how often you and I/Had tired the sun with talking and sent him down the sky./And now that thou art lying, my dear old Carian guest,/A handful of grey ashes, long, long ago at rest,/Still are thy pleasant voices, thy nightingales, awake;/For Death, he taketh all away, but them he cannot take. In a way this is entailed by “Be perspicuous,” if that means ‘be clear,’ in obtuse English.Be clearTherefore, or what is the same thing. Thou shalt not not be obscure.2. Avoid ambiguity.”Except as a trope, or ‘figure, (schema, figura). “Aequi-vocate, if that will please your clever addressee.” Cf. Parker’s zeugma: “My apartment was so small, that I've barely enough room to lay a hat and a few friends“3. Be brief (avoid unnecessary prolixity).”Here he added a ‘sic’ that he failed to pronounce in case it may felt as insulting. But the idea of a self-refuting conversational maxim is surely Griceian, in a quessertive way. Since this concerns FORM rather than CONTENT, it is not meant to overlap with ‘informativeness.’So given that p and q are equally informative, if q is less brief (longer – ars longa, vita brevis), utter p. This has nothing to do with logical strength. It is just to be assessed in a SYNTACTICAL way.Vide “Syntactics in Semiotics”“4. Be orderly.”This involves two moves in the contribution or ‘turn.’ One cannot be ‘disorderly,’ if one just utters ‘p.’ So this involves a molecular proposition. The ‘order’ can be of various types. Indeed, one of Grice’s example is “Jones is between Smith and Williams” – order of merit or size?‘Between’ is not ambiguous!There is LOGICAL order, which is prior.But there is a more absolute use of ‘orderly.’ ‘keep your room tidy.’orderly (adj.) 1570s, "arranged in order," from order (n.) + -ly (1). Meaning "observant of rule or discipline, not unruly" is from 1590s. Related: Orderliness.He does not in the lecture give a philosophical example, but later will in revisiting the Urmson example and indeed Strawson, but mainly Urmson, “He went to bed and took off his boots,” and indeed Ryle, “She felt frail and took arsenic.”“And one might need others.”Regarding ‘mode,’ that is. “It is obvious that the observance of some of these maxims is a matter of less urgency than is the observance of others;”Not as per ‘moral’ demands, since he’ll say these are not MORAL.“a man who has expressed himself with undue prolixity would, in general, be open to milder comment than would a man who has said something he believes to be false.”Except in Oscar Wilde’s circle, where they were obsessed with commenting on prolixities! Cf. Hare against Kant, “Where is the prisoner?” “He left [while he is hiding in the attic].”That’s why Grice has the ‘in general.’“Indeed, it might be felt that the importance of at least the first maxim of Quality is such that it should not be included in a scheme of the kind I am constructing;”But since ‘should’ is weak, I will. “other maxims come into operation only on the assumption that this maxim of Quality is satisfied.”So the keyword is co-ordination.“While this may be correct, so far as the generation of implicatures is concerned it seems to play a role not totally different from the other maxims, and it will be convenient, for the present at least, to treat it as a member of the list of maxims.”He is having weighing, and clashing in mind. And he wants a conversationalist to honour truth over informativeness, which begs the question that as he puts it, ‘false’ “information” is no information.In the earlier lectures, tutoring, or as a university lecturer, he was sure that his tutee will know that he was introducing maxims ONLY WITH THE PURPOSE, NEVER TO MORALISE, but as GENERATORS of implicata – in philosophers’s mistakes.But this manoeuver is only NOW disclosed. Those without a philosophical background may not realise about this. “There are, of course, all sorts of other maxims (aesthetic, social, or moral in character), such as 'Be polite', that are also normally observed by participants in talk exchanges, and these may also generate nonconventional implicatures.”He is obviously aware that Émile DurkheimWill  Know that ‘conversational’ is subsumed under ‘social,’ if not Williamson (perhaps).  – keyword: ‘norm.’ Grice excludes ‘moral’ because while a moral maxim makes a man ‘good,’ a conversational maxim makes a man a ‘good’ conversationalist. Not because there is a distinction in principle!“The conversational maxims, however, and the conversational implicatures connected with them, are specially connected (I hope) with”He had this way with idioms.Cf. Einstein,“E =, I hope, mc2.”“the particular purposes that talk (and so, talk exchange)”He is playing Dutch.The English lost the Anglo-Saxon for ‘talk.’ They have ‘language,’ and the Hun has ‘Sprache.’ But only the Dutch have ‘taal.’So he is distinguishing between the TOOL and the USE of the TOOL.“is adapted lo serve and is primlarily employed to serve.”The ‘adapted’ is mechanistic talk. He mentions ‘evolutionarily’ elsewhere. He means ‘the particular goal language evolved to serve, viz.’ groom.Grooming, Gossip and the Evolution of Language is a 1996 book by the anthropologist Robin Dunbar, in which the author argues that language evolved from social grooming. He further suggests that a stage of this evolution was the telling of gossip, an argument supported by the observation that language is adapted for storytelling.  The book has been criticised on the grounds that since words are so cheap, Dunbar's "vocal grooming" would fall short in amounting to an honest signal. Further, the book provides no compelling story[citation needed] for how meaningless vocal grooming sounds might become syntactical speech.  Thesis Dunbar argues that gossip does for group-living humans what manual grooming does for other primates—it allows individuals to service their relationships and thus maintain their alliances on the basis of the principle: if you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours. Dunbar argues that as humans began living in increasingly larger social groups, the task of manually grooming all one's friends and acquaintances became so time-consuming as to be unaffordable.[1] In response to this problem, Dunbar argues that humans invented 'a cheap and ultra-efficient form of grooming'—vocal grooming. To keep allies happy, one now needs only to 'groom' them with low-cost vocal sounds, servicing multiple allies simultaneously while keeping both hands free for other tasks. Vocal grooming then evolved gradually into vocal language—initially in the form of 'gossip'.[1] Dunbar's hypothesis seems to be supported by the fact that the structure of language shows adaptations to the function of narration in general.[2]  Criticism Critics of Dunbar's theory point out that the very efficiency of "vocal grooming"—the fact that words are so cheap—would have undermined its capacity to signal honest commitment of the kind conveyed by time-consuming and costly manual grooming.[3] A further criticism is that the theory does nothing to explain the crucial transition from vocal grooming—the production of pleasing but meaningless sounds—to the cognitive complexities of syntactical speech.[citation needed]  References  Dunbar, R. I. M. (1996). Grooming, gossip and the evolution of language. London: Faber and Faber. ISBN 9780571173969. OCLC 34546743.  von Heiseler, Till Nikolaus (2014) Language evolved for storytelling in a super-fast evolution. In: R. L. C. Cartmill, Eds. Evolution of Language. London: World Scientific, pp. 114-121. https://www.academia.edu/9648129/LANGUAGE_EVOLVED_FOR_STORYTELLING_IN_A_SUPER-FAST_EVOLUTION  Power, C. 1998. Old wives' tales: the gossip hypothesis and the reliability of cheap signals. In J. R. Hurford, M. Studdert Kennedy and C. Knight (eds), Approaches to the Evolution of Language: Social and Cognitive Bases. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, pp. 111 29. Categories: 1996 non-fiction booksAmerican non-fiction booksBooks by Robin DunbarEnglish-language booksEvolution of languageHarvard University Press booksPopular science booksGrice: “I have stated my maxims”the maxims“as if this purpose were a maximally effective exchange of information;”“MAXIMALLY EFFECTIVE”“this specification is, of course, too narrow,”But who cares?This is slightly sad in that he is thinking Strawson and forgetting his (Grice’s) own controversy with G. A. Paul on the sense-datum, for ‘the pillar box seems red’ and ‘the pillar box is red,’ involving an intensional context, are less amenable to fall under the maxims.“and the scheme needs to be generalized to allow for such general purposes as influencing or directing the actions of others.”He has a more obvious way below:Giving and receving informationInfluencing and being influenced by others.He never sees the purpose as MAXIMAL INFORMATION, but maximally effective EXCHANGE of information – does he mean merely ‘transmission.’ It may well be.If I say, “I rain,” I have ex-changed information.I don’t need anything in return.If so, it makes sense that he is equating INFORMING With  INFLUENCING or better DIRECTION your addresse’s talk.Note that, for all he loved introspection and conversational avowals, and self-commands, these do not count.It’s informing your addressee about some state of affairs, and directing his action. Grice is always clear that the ULTIMATE GOAL is the utterer’s ACTION.“As one of my avowed aims is to see talking as a special case or variety of purposive, indeed rational, behavior, it may be worth noting that the specific expectations or presumptions connected with at least some of the foregoing maxims have their analogues in the sphere of transactions that are not talk exchanges.”Transaction is a good one.TRANS-ACTIO“I list briefly one such analog for each conversational category.”While he uses ‘conversational category,’ he also applies it to the second bit: ‘category of conversational quantity,’ ‘category of conversational quality,’ ‘category of conversational relation,’ and ‘category of conversational mode.’ But it is THIS application that justifies the sub-specifications.They are not categories of thought or ontological or ‘expression’.His focus is on the category as conversation.His focus is on the ‘conversational category.’“1. Quantity. If you are assisting me to mend a car, I expect your contribution to be neither more nor less than is required; if, e. g., at a particular stage I need fourscrews, I expect you to hand me four, rather than two or six. He always passed six, since two will drop.“Make your contribution neither more nor less informative than is required (for the purposes of the exchange).”This would have covered the maxi and the min.“NEITHER MORE NOR LESS” is the formula of effectiveness, and economy, and minimization of expenditure.“2. Quality. I expect your contributions to be genuine and not spurious.”Here again he gives an expansion of the conversational category, which is more general than ‘try to make your contribution one that is true,’ and the point about the ‘quality of information,’ which he did not make.Perhaps because it would have led him to realise that ‘false’ information, i.e. ‘information’ which is not genuine and spurious, is not ‘information.’But “Make your contribution one that is genuine and not spurious.”Be candid.Does not need a generalization as it covers both informational and directive utterances.“If I need sugar as an ingredient in the cake you are assisting me to make, I do not expect you to hand me salt;”Or you won’t eat the cake.“if I need a spoon, I do not expect a trick spoon made of rubber.”Spurious and genuine are different.In the ‘trick spoon,’ the conversationalist is just not being SERIOUS.But surely a maxim, “Be serious” is too serious. – Seriously!“3. Relation. I expect a partner's contribution to be appropriate to immediate needs at each stage of the transaction;”Odd that he would use ‘appropriate,’ which was the topic of the “Prolegomena,” and what he was supposed to EXPLAIN, not to use in the explanation.For each of the philosophers making a mistake are giving a judgment of ‘appropriateness,’ conversational appropriateness. Here it is good that he relativises the ‘appropriateness’ TO the ‘need’.Grice is not quite sticking to the etymology of ‘relatio’ and ‘refer,’ bring y back to x. Or he is. Bring y (your contribution) back to the need x.Odd that he thinks he’ll expand more on relation, when he did a good bit!“if I am mixing ingredients for a cake, I do not expect to be handed a good book, or even an oven cloth (though this might be an appropriate contribution at a later stage).”“I just expect you to be silent.”“4. Manner. I expect a partner to make it clear what contribution he is making, and to execute his performance with reasonable dispatch.” For Lewis, clarity is not enough!The ‘Execute your performance with reasonable dispatch!’ seems quite different from “Be perspicuous.”“Execute your performance with reasonable dispatch”Is more like“Execute your performance”And not just STAND there!A: What time is it B just stands there“These analogies are relevant to what I regard as a fundamental question about the principle of conversational helpfulness and its attendant conversational maxims,”For Boethius, it is a PRINCIPLE because it does not need an answer!“viz., what the basis is for the assumption which we seem to make, and on which (I hope) it will appear that a great range of implicatures depend [especially as we keep on EXPLOITING the rather otiose maxims], that talkers will ingeneral (ceteris paribus and in the absence of indications to the contrary) proceed in the manner that these principles prescribe.”Grice really doesn’t care! He is into the EXPLOITING of the maxim, as in his response to the Scots philosopher G. A. Paul:“Paul, I surely do not mean to imply that you may end up believing that I have a doubt about the pillar box being red: it seems red to me, as I have this sense-datum of ‘redness’ which attaches to me as I am standing in front of the pillar box in clear daylight.”Grice is EXPLOITING the desideratum, YET STILL SAYING SOMETHING TRUE, so at least he is not VIOLATING the principle of conversational helpfulness, or the category of conversational quality, or the desideratum of conversational candour.And that is what he is concerned with.  “A dull but, no doubt at a certain level, adequate answer is that it is just a well-recognized empirical fact that *people* (not pirots, although perhaps Oxonians, rather than from Malagasy) DO behave in these ways;”Elinor Ochs was terrified Grice’s maxims are violated – never exploited, she thought – in Madagascar.“they, i. e. people, or Oxonians, have learned to do so in childhood and not lost the habit of doing so; and, indeed, it would involve a good deal of effort to make a radical departure from the habit. It is much easier, for example, to tell the truth than to invent lies.”Effort again; least effort. And ease. Great Griceian guidelines!“I am, however, enough of a rationalist to want to find a basis that underlies these facts,”OR EXPLAIN.“undeniable though they may be;”BEIGIN OF A THEORY FOR A THEORY – not the theory for the generation of implicate, but for the theory of conversation.He is less interested in this than the other. “I would like to be able to think of the standard type of conversational practice not merely as something that all or most do IN FACT follow but as something that it is REASONABLE for us to follow, that we SHOULD NOT abandon. For a time, I was attracted by the idea that observance of the principle of conversational helpfulness and the conversational maxims, in a talk exchange, could be thought of as a quasi-contractual matter, with parallels outside the realm of discourse. If you pass by when I am struggling with my stranded car, I no doubt have some degree of expectation that you will offer help, but once you join me in tinkering under the hood, my expectations become stronger and take more specific forms (in the absence of indications that you are merely an incompetent meddler); and talk exchanges seemed to me to exhibit, characteristically, certain features that jointly distinguish cooperative transactions:”So how is this not quasi-contractual?  He is listing THIS OR THAT FEATURE that jointly distinguishes a cooperative transaction – all grand great words.But he wants to say that ‘quasi-contractual’ is NO RATIONAL!He is playing, as a philosopher, with the very important point of what follows from what.A1. Conversasation is purposiveA2. Conversation is rationalA3. Conversation is cooperativeA4. There is such a thing as non-rational cooperation (is there?)So he is aiming at the fact that the FEATURES that jointly distinguish cooperative transactions NEED NOT BE PRESENT, and Grice surely does not wish THAT to demolish his model. If he bases it in general constraints of rationality, the better.“1. The participants have some common immediate aim, like getting a car mended; their ultimate aims may, of course, be independent and even in conflict-each may want to get the car mended in order to drive off, leaving the other stranded. In characteristic talk exchanges, there is a common aim even if, as in an over-the-wall chat, it is a second-order one,”Is he being logical?“second-order predicate calculus”“meta-language”He means higher or supervenientOr ‘operative’“, that each party should, for the time being, identify himself with the transitory conversational interests of the other.”By identify he means assume.YOU HAVE TO DESIRE what your partner desires.The intersection between your desirability and your addressee’s desirability is not NULL.And the way to do this is conditionalIF: You perceive B has Goal G, you assume Goal G. “2. The contributions of the participants .should be dovetailed, mutually dependent. Unless it’s one of those seminars by Grice and J. F. Thomson!“3. There is some sort of understanding (which may be explicit but which is often tacit)”i.e. implicated rather than explicated – part of the implicatum, or implicitum, rather than the explicatum or explicitum.“that, other things being equal, the transaction should continue in appropriate style unless both parties are agreeable that it should terminate. You do not just shove off or start doing something else.”This is especially tricky over the phone (“He never ends!” Or in psychiatric interviews!)Note that ‘starting doing something else’ may work. E. g. watch your watch!“But while some such quasi-contractual basis as this may apply to some cases, there are too many types of exchange, like quarreling and letter writing, that it fails to fit comfortably.”TWO OPPOSITE EXAMPLES.Fighting is arguing is competition, adversarial, epagogue, not conversation, cooperation,  friendly, collaborative venture, and diagoge.Letter writing is usually otiose – “what, with the tellyphone!” And letter writing is no conversation.“In any case, one feels that the talker who is irrelevant or obscure has primarily let down not his audience but himself.”And the talker who is mendacious has primarily let Kant down!”“So I would like t< be able to show that observance of the principle of conversational helfpulness and maxims is reasonal de (rational) along the following lines”That any Aristkantian rationalist would agree to.“: that any one who cares about the goals that are central to conversation/communication (e.g., giving and receiving information, influencing and being influenced by others) must be expected to have an interest, given suitable circumstances, in participation in talk exchanges that will be profitable only on the assumption that they are conducted in general accordance with the principle of conversational helpfulness and the maxims.”Where the keyword is: profit, effort, least effort, no energy, no undue effort, no unnecessary trouble. That conversation is reasonable unless it is unreasonable. That a conversational exchange should be rational unless it shows features of irrationality.“Whether any such conclusion can be reached, I am uncertain;”It’s not clear what the premises are!Plus, he means DEDUCTIVELY reached? Transcendentally reached? Empirically reached? Philosophically reached? Conclusively reached? Etc.It seems the conclusion need not be reached, because we never departed from the state of the affairs that the conclusion describes.“in any case, I am fairly sure that I cannot reach it until I am a good deal clearer about the nature of relevance and of the circumstances in which it is required.”For perhaps “I don’t want to imply any doubt, but that pillar box seems red.”IS irrelevant, yet true!“It is now time to show the connection between the principle of conversational helfpulness and the conversational maxims, on the one hand, and conversational implicature on the other.”This is clearer in the seminars. The whole thing was a preamble “A participant in a talk exchange may fail to fulfill a maxim in various ways, which include the following: 1. He may quietly and unostentatiously VIOLATE (or fail to observe) a maxim; if so, in some cases he will be liable to mislead.”And be blamed by Kant.Mislead should not worry Grice, cf. “Misleading, but true.”The violate (or fail to observe) shows that (1) covers two specifications. Tom may be unaware that there was such a maxim as to ‘be brief, avoid unnecessary prolixity, unless you need to eschew obfuscation!”This is Grice’s anti-Ryleism. He doesn’t want to say that there is KNOWLEDGE of the maxims. For one may know what the maxims are and fail to observe them “2. He may OPT OUT from the operation both of the maxim and of the principle of conversational helpfulness; he may say, indicate, or allow it to become plain that he is unwilling to cooperate in the way the maxim requires. He may say, e. g., I cannot say more; my lips are sealed.” Where is the criminal?I cannot say more; my lips are sealed.I shall unseal them. What do you mean ‘cannot.’ You don’t mean ‘may not,’ do you?I think Grice means ‘may not.’Is the universe finite? Einstein: I cannot say more; my lips are sealed. “3. He may be faced by a CLASH of maxims [That’s why he needs more than one – or at least two specifications of the same maxim]: He may be unable, e. g., to fulfill the first maxim of Quantity (Be as informative as is required) without violating the second maxim of Quality (Have adequate evidence for what you say).” Odd that he doesn’t think this generates implicature: He has obviously studied the sub-perceptualities here.For usually, a phenomenalist, like Sextus, thinks that by utteringThe pillar box seems red to me – that is all I have adequate evidence forHe is conveying that he is unable to answer the question (“What colour is the pillar box?”) And being as ‘informative’ as is requiredWithout saying something for which it is not the case that he has or will ever have adequate evidence.Cf.Student at Koenigsberg to Kant: What’s the noumenon?Kant: My lips are sealed.It may require some research to list ALL CLASHES.Because each clash shows some EVALUATION qua reasoning, and it may be all VERY CETERIS PARIBUS.Cf.Where is the criminal?My lips are sealed.The utterer has NOT opted out. He has answered, via implicature, that he is not telling. He is being relevant. He is not telling because he doesn’t want to DISCLOSE the whereabouts of the alleged criminal, etc. For Kant, this is not a conversation! Odd that Grice is ‘echoing Kant,’ where Kant would hardly allow a clash with ‘Be truthful!’“4. He may FLOUT a maxim; that is, he may BLATANTLY fail to fulfill (or observe) it.Mock? Taunt?The magic flute. Grice’s magic flute.flout (v.) "treat with disdain or contempt" (transitive), 1550s, intransitive sense "mock, jeer, scoff" is from 1570s; of uncertain origin; perhaps a special use of Middle English “flowten,”"to play the flute" (compare Middle Dutch “fluyten,” "to play the flute," also "to jeer"). Related: Flouted; flouting.Grice: “One thing we do not know is if the flute came to England via Holland.”“Or he may, as we may say, ‘play the flute’ with a maxim, expecting others to be agreeable.”“Or he may, as we might say, ‘play the flute’ with the conversational maxim, expecting others to join with some other musical instrument – or something – occasionally the same.”“On the assumption that the speaker is able to fulfill the maxim and to do so without violating another maxim (because oi a clash), is not opting out, and is not, in view of the blatancy of his performance, trying to mislead,”This is interesting. It’s the TRYING to mislead.Grice and G. A. Paul:Grice cannot be claimed to have TRIED to mislead, and thus deemed to have misled G. A. Paul, even if he had, when he said, “I hardly think there is any doubt about it, but that pillar box seems red to me.”“the hearer is faced with a minor problem:”Implicature: This reasoning is all abductive – to the ‘best’ explanation“How can his saying what he did say be reconciled with the supposition that he is observing the overall principle of conversational helfpulness?”This was one of Grice’s conversations with G. A. Paul:Paul (to Grice): This is what I do not understand, Grice. How can your saying what you did say be reconciled with the supposition that you are not going to mislead me?”Unfortunately, on that Saturday, Paul went to the Irish Sea. Grice “This situation is one that characteristically”There are others – vide clash, above – but not marked by Grice as one such situation – “gives rise to a conversational implicature; and when a conversational implicature is generated”Chomskyan jargon borrowed from Austin (“I don’t see why Austin admired Chomsky so!”)“in this way, I shall say that a maxim is being EXPLOITED.”Why not ‘flouted’? Some liked the idea of playing the flute.EXPLOIT is figurative.Grice exploits a Griceian maxim.exploit (v.) c. 1400, espleiten, esploiten "to accomplish, achieve, fulfill," from Old French esploitier, espleiter "carry out, perform, accomplish," from esploit (see exploit (n.)). The sense of "use selfishly" first recorded 1838, from a sense development in French perhaps from use of the word with reference to mines, etc. (compare exploitation). Related: Exploited; exploiting.exploit (n.) late 14c., "outcome of an action," from Old French esploit "a carrying out; achievement, result; gain, advantage" (12c., Modern French exploit), a very common word, used in senses of "action, deed, profit, achievement," from Latin explicitum "a thing settled, ended, or displayed," noun use of neuter of explicitus, past participle of explicare "unfold, unroll, disentangle," from ex "out" (see ex-) + plicare "to fold" (from PIE root *plek- "to plait").  Meaning "feat, achievement" is c. 1400. Sense evolution is from "unfolding" to "bringing out" to "having advantage" to "achievement." Related: Exploits. exploitative (adj.) "serving for or used in exploitation," 1882, from French exploitatif, from exploit (see exploit (n.)). Alternative exploitive (by 1859) appears to be a native formation from exploit + -ive.exploitation (n.) 1803, "productive working" of something, a positive word among those who used it first, though regarded as a Gallicism, from French exploitation, noun of action from exploiter (see exploit (v.)). Bad sense developed 1830s-50s, in part from influence of French socialist writings (especially Saint Simon), also perhaps influenced by use of the word in U.S. anti-slavery writing; and exploitation was hurled in insult at activities it once had crowned as praise.  It follows from this science [conceived by Saint Simon] that the tendency of the human race is from a state of antagonism to that of an universal peaceful association -- from the dominating influence of the military spirit to that of the industriel one; from what they call l'exploitation de l'homme par l'homme to the exploitation of the globe by industry. ["Quarterly Review," April & July 1831] Grice: “I am now in a position to characterize the notion of conversational implicature.”Not to provide a reductive analysis. The concept is too dear for me to torture it with one of my metaphysical routines.”“A man who, by (in, when) saying (or making as if to say) that p”That seems good for the analysandumGrice loves the “by (in, when)” “(or making as if to). Note the oratio obliqua.Or ‘that’-clause. So this is not ‘uttering’As in the analysans of ‘meaning that.’“By uttering ‘x’ U means that p.’The “by” already involves a clause with a ‘that’-clause.So this is not a report of a physical event.It is a report embued already with intentionality.The utterer is not just ‘uttering’The utterer is EXPLICITLY conveying that p.We cannot say MEANING that p.Because Grice uses “mean” as opposed to “explicitly convey”His borderline scenarios are such,“Keep me company, dear”“If we are to say that when he uttererd that he means that his wife was to keep him company or not is all that will count for me to change my definition of ‘mean’ or not.”Also irony.But here it is more complicated. A man utters, “Grice defeated Strawson”If he means it ironically, to mean that Strawson defeated Grice, it is not the case that the utterer MEANT the opposite. He explicitly conveyed that.Grice considers the Kantian ‘cause and effect,’“If I am dead, I shall have no time for reading.”He is careful here that the utterer does not explicitly conveys that he will have no time for reading – because it’s conditioned on he being dead.“has implicated that q,” “may be said to have conversationally implicated that q,”So this is a specification alla arbor porphyrana of ‘By explicitly conveying that p, U implicitly conveys that q.’Where he is adding the second-order adverb, ‘conversationally.’By explicitly conveying that p, U has implicitly conveyed that q in a CONVERSATIONAL FASHION” iff or if“PROVIDED THAT”“(1) he is to be presumed to be observing the conversational maxims, or at least the principle of conversational helfpulness;”Especially AT LEAST, because he just said that an implicatum is ‘generated’ (Chomskyan jargon) when  AT LEAST A MAXIM IS played the flute.“(2) the supposition that he is aware that, or thinks that, q is required in order to make his saying or making as if to say p (or doing so in THOSE terms) consistent with this presumption;”THIS IS THE CRUCIAL CLAUSE – and the one that not only requires ONE’S RATIONALITY, but the expectation that one’s addressee, BEING RATIONAL, will expect the utterer to BE RATIONAL.This is the ‘rationalisation’ he refers to in “Retrospective Epilogue.”Note that ‘q’ is obviously now the content of a state in the utterer’s soul – a desideratum or a creditum --, at least a CREDITUM, in view of Grice’s view of everything at least exhibitive and perhaps protreptic --“and (3) the speaker thinks (and would expect the hearer to think that the speaker thinks) that it is within the competence of the hearer to work out, or grasp intuitively, that the supposition mentioned in (2) IS required.”All that jargon about mutuality is a result of Strawson tutoring Schiffer!“Apply this to my initial example, to B's remark that C has not yet been to prison.”What made Grice think of such a convoluted example?He was laughing at Searle for providing non-philosophical examples, and there he is!“In a suitable setting A might reason as follows:”“(1) B has APPARENTLY violated – indeed he has played the flute with -- the maxim 'Be relevant' and so may be regarded as [ALSO] having flouted one of the maxims conjoining perspicuity,”In previous versions, under the desideratum of conversational clarity Grice had it that the desideratum included the expectation of this ‘relatedness’ AND that of ‘perspicuity’ (sic). In the above, Grice is stating that if you are irrelevant (or provide an unrelated contribution) you are not being perspicuous.But “He hasn’t been to prison” is perspicuous enough.And so is the link to the question --.Plus, wasn’t perspicuity only to apply to the ‘mode,’ to the ‘form,’ rather than the content.Here it is surely the CONTENT – that it is not the case that C is a criminal – that triggers it all.So, since there is a “not,” here this is parallel to the example examined by Strawson in the footnote to “Logical Theory.”The utterer is saying that it is not the case that C has been in prison yet.The ‘yet’ makes all the difference, even if a Fregeian colouring ‘convention’!“It is not the case that C has been in prison” Is, admittedly, not very perspicuous.“So what, neither has the utterer nor the addressee.”So there is an equivocation here as to the utterance perhaps not being perspicuous, while the utterer IS perspicuous.“yet I have no reason to suppose that he is opting out from the operation of the CP;”Or playing the flute with my beloved principle of conversational helpfulness.“(2) given the circumstances, I can regard his irrelevance as only apparent – as when we say that a plastic flower is not a flower, or to use Austin’s example, “That decoy duck is surely not a duck! That trick rubber spoon is no spoon! -- if, and only if, I suppose him to think that C is potentially dishonest;”As many are!The potentially is the trick.Recall Aristotle: “Will I say that I am potentially dishonest?! Not me! PLATO was! Theophrastus WILL! Or is it ‘shall’?”“(3) B knows that I am capable of working out step (2). So B implicates that C is potentially dishonest.'”Unless he goes on like I go with G. A. Paul, “I do not mean of course to mean that I mean that he is potentially dishonest, because although he is, he shouldn’t, or rather, I don’t think you are expecting me to convey explicitly that he shouln’t or should for that matter.”“The presence of a conversational implicature must be capable of being worked out; for even if it can in fact be intuitively grasped, unless the intuition is replaceable by an argument, the implicature (if present at all) will not count as a CONVERSATIONAL implicature.”This is the Humpty Dumpty in Grice.Cf. Provide the sixteen derivational steps in Jane Austen’s Novel remark, “I sense and sensibilia” – This is what happens sometimes when people who are not philosophers engage with Grice!For a philosopher, it is clear Grice is not being serious there. He is mocking an ‘ideal’-language philosopher (as Waissmann called them). Let’s revise the word:By “counting” he means “DEEM.” He has said that “She is poor, but she is honest,” is NOT CALCULABLE. So if an argument is not produced, this may not be a matter of argument.Philosophers are OBSESSED, and this is Grice’s trick, with ARGUMENT. Recall Grice on Hardie, “Unlike my father, who was rather blunt, Hardie taught me to ARGUE for this or that reason.”His mention of “INTUITION” is not perspicuous. He told J. M. Rountree that meaning is a matter of INTUITION, not a theoretical concept within a theory.So it’s not like Grice does not trust the intuition. So the point is TERMINOLOGICAL and methodological. Terminological, in that this is a specfification of ‘conversationally,’ rather than for cases like “How rude!” (he just flouted the maxim ‘be polite!’ but ‘be polite’ is not a CONVERSATIONAL maxim. Is Grice implicating that nonconversational nonconventional implicate are not calculable? We don’t think so.But he might.I think he will. Because in the case of ‘aesthetic maxim,’ ‘moral maxim,’ and ‘social maxim’ – such as “be polite,” – the calculation may involve such degree of gradation that you better not get Grice started!“it will be a CONVENTIONAL implicature.”OK – So perhaps he does allow that non-conventional non-conversational implicate ARE calculable.But he may add:“Unless the intuition is replaceable by an argument, it will not be a conversational implicature; it will be a conventional implicature.”Strawson: “And what nonconventional nonconversational implicate?Grice: You are right, Strawon. Let me modify and refine the point: “It will be a dull, boring, undetachable, conventional implicatum – OR any of those dull implicate that follow from (or result – I won’t use ‘generate’) one of those maxims that I have explicitly said they were NOT conversational maxims.“For surely, there is something very ‘contradictory-sounding’ to me saying that the implicatum is involved with the flouting of a maxim which is NOT a conversational maxim, and yet that the maxim is a CONVERSATIONAL implicature.”“Therefore, I restrict calculability to CONVERSATIONAL IMPLICATURE, because it involves the conversational maxims that contributors are expected to be reciprocal; whereas you’ll agree that Queen Victoria does not need to be abide with ‘be polite,’ as she frequently did not – “We are not amused, you fools! Only Gilbert and Sullivan amuse me!””“To work out that a particular CONVERSATIONAL [never mind nonconversational nonconventional] implicature is present, the hearer will reply on the following data:”As opposed to ‘sense-datum.’Perhaps assumption, alla Gettier, is better:“ (1) the conventional meaning of the words used, together with the identity of any references that may be involved;”WoW Quite a Bit. This is the reason why Grice entitled WoW his first book.In he hasn’t been to ‘prison’ we are not using ‘prison’ as Witters does (“My language is my prison”).Strawson: But is that the CONVENTIONAL meaning? Even for King Alfred?He hasn't been to prisonprison (n.) early 12c., from Old French prisoun "captivity, imprisonment; prison; prisoner, captive" (11c., Modern French prison), altered (by influence of pris "taken;" see prize (n.2)) from earlier preson, from Vulgar Latin *presionem, from Latin prensionem (nominative prensio), shortening of prehensionem (nominative *prehensio) "a taking," noun of action from past participle stem of prehendere "to take" (from prae- "before," see pre-, + -hendere, from PIE root *ghend- "to seize, take"). "Captivity," hence by extension "a place for captives," the MAIN modern sense.” (There are 34 other unmain ones). He hasn't been to a place for captives yet.You mean he is one.Cf. He hasn't been to asylum.You mean Foucault?(2) the principle of conversational helpfulness and this and that conversational maxim;”This is more crucial seeing that the utterer may utter something which has no conventional meaning?Cf. Austin, “Don’t ask for the meaning of a word! Less so for the ‘conventional’ one!”What Grice needs is ‘the letter,’ so he can have the ‘spirit’ as the implicatum. Or he needs the lines, so he can have the implicatum as a reading ‘between the lines.’If the utterance is a gesture, like showing a bandaged leg, or a Neapolitan rude gesture, it is difficult to distinguish or to identify what is EXPLICITLY conveyed.By showing his bandaged leg, U EXPLICITLY conveys that he has a bandaged leg. And IMPLICITLY conveys that he cannot really play cricket.The requirement of ‘denotatum’ is even tricker, “Swans are beautiful.” Denotata? Quantificational? Substitutional?In any case, Grice is not being circular in requiring that the addressee should use as an assumption or datum that U thinks that the expression E is generally uttered by utterers when they m-intend that p.But there are tricks here.“(3) the context, linguistic or otherwise, of the utterance;”Cf. Grice, “Is there a general context for a general theory of context?”“(4) other items of background knowledge;”So you don’t get:How is C getting on at the bank? My lips are sealed Why do you care Mind your own business. Note that “he hasn’t been to prison yet” (meaning the tautologous ‘he is potentially dishonest’) is the sort of tricky answer to a tricky question! In asking, the asker KNOWS that he’ll get that sort of reply knowing the utterer as he does. “and (5) the fact (or supposed fact) that all relevant items falling under the previous headings are available to both participants and both participants know or assume this to be the case.”This is Schiffer reported by Strawson.“A general pattern for the working out of a conversational implicature might be given as follows:”Again the abductive argument that any tutee worth of Hardie might expect 'He has said that p;”Ie explicitly conveys that p.Note the essential oratio obliqua, or that-clause.“there is no reason to suppose. that he is not observing the maxims, or at least the principle of conversational helpfulness”That is, he is not a prisoner of war, or anything.“He could not be doing this unless he thought that q;”Or rather, even if more tautologically still, he could not be doing so REASONABLY, as Austin would forbid, unless…’ For if the utterer is IRRATIONAL (or always playing the flute) surely he CAN do it!“he knows (and knows that I know that he knows) that I can see that the supposition that he thinks that q IS required;”Assumed MUTUAL RATIONALITY, which Grice fails to have added as assumption or datum. Cf. paraconsistent logics – “he is using ‘and’ and ‘or’ in a ‘deviant’ logical way, to echo Quine,” – He is an intuitionist, his name is Dummett.“he has done nothing to stop me thinking that q; he intends me to think, or is at least willing to allow me to think, that q; and so he has implicated that q.'”The ‘or’ is delightful, for m-intention requires ‘intention,’ but the intention figures in previous positions, so ‘willingess to allow the addressee to think’ does PERFECTLY FINE! Especially at Oxford where we are ever so subtle!

conversational reason. Used in Retrospective, p. 369. Also: conversational rationality. Surely, “principle of conversational rationality” sounds otiose. Expectation of mutual rationality sounds better. Critique of conversational reason sounds best! Grice is careful here. When he provides a reductive analysis of ‘reasoning,’ this goes as follows: the reasoner reasons from premise to conclusion. That’s the analysandum. What’s the analysans? At least it involves TWO clauses: If the reasoner reasons from premise to conclusion, it is assumed that he BELIEVES that the premise obtains; and he believes that the conclusion obtains. This has to be generalised to cover the desiderative, using ‘accept.’ He accepts that the premise obtains, and he accepts that the conclusion obtains. But there is obviously a SECOND condition: that the conclusion follows from the premise! He uses ‘demonstrably’ for that, or the demonstratum.’ He is open as to what kind of yielding is involved because he wants to allow for inductive reasoning and abductive reasoning, not just deductive reasoning. AND THERE IS A TYPICALLY GRICEIAN third condition, involving CAUSATION. He had used ‘cause’ in reductive analyses before – if not so much in ‘meaning,’ due to Urmson’s counterexample involving ‘bribery,’ where ‘cause’ does not seem to do – but in his analysis of ‘intending’ for the British Academy. So at Oxford he promotes this THIRD causal condition as involving that, naturally enough, it is the rasoner’s BELIEF that demonstrably q follows from p, which CAUSES the reasoner TO BELIEVE (or more generally, accept) that the conclusion obtains. Grice is happy with that belief in the validity of the demonstration ‘populates’ the world of alethic beliefs, and does not concern with generalising that into a generic ‘acceptance.’ The word ‘rationalist’ is anathema at Oxford, because tutor after tutor has brainwashed their tutees that the distinction is ‘empiricst-rationalist’ and that at Oxford we are ‘empiricists.’ So Grice is really being ‘heretic’ here in the words of G. P. Baker.

co-operation. The hyphen in Strawson and Wiggins (p. 520).

copulatum. Grice uses ‘copula’ in PPQ.  The term is sometimes used ambiguously, for ‘conjunctum.’ A conjunctive is called a copulative. But Grice obviously narrows down the use of copulatum to izz and hazz. He is having in mind Strawson.The formula does not allow for differences in tense and grammatical number; nor for the enormous class of * all '-sentences which do not contain, as their main verb, the verb * to be '. We might try to recast the sentences so that they at least fitted into one of the two patterns * All x is y ' or ' All x are y ' ; but the results would be, as English, often clumsy andt sometimes absurd. for Aristotle, 'Socrates is a man' is true "in virtue of his being that thing which constitutes existing for him (being which constitutes his mode of existence)," Hermann Weidemann, "In Defense of Aristotle's Theory of Predication," p. 84— only so long as that "being" be taken as an assertion of being per se. But Weidemann wants to take it merely copulatively. In "Prädikation," p. 1196, he says that when 'is' is used as tertium adiacens it has no meaning by itself, but merely signifies the connection of subject and predicate. Cf. his "Aristoteles über das isolierte Aussagenwort," p. 154. H. P. Grice, "Aristotle on the Multiplicity of Being," also rejects an existential reading of tertium adiacens and pushes for a copulative one. Cf. Alan Code, "Aristotle: Essence and Accident," pp. 414-7. Aristotle has connected the semantic multiplicity in the copula not with variation between predicates of one subject, but with variation between essential (per se)predications upon different (indeed categorially different) subjects (such ...eads me to wonder whether Aristotle may be maintaining not only that the copula exhibits semantic ...An extended treatment of my views about izzing and hazzing can be found in Alan.  A crucial ... on occasion admit catégorial variation in the sense of the copulative 'is', evidently is ... Aristotle has connected the semantic multiplicity in the copula not with variation ...with the copulative 'is'; so he rather strangely interprets the last remark. (1017a27-30) as alluding to semantic multiplicity in the copula as being. (supposedly) a consequence of semantic multiplicity in the existential 'is'. This interpretation seems difficult to defend. When Aristotle says that predicates sometimes say what a thing is, sometimes what is it like (its quality), sometimes how much it is (its quantity) and so on, he seems to be saying that if we consider the range of predicates which can be applied to some item, for example to a substance like Socrates or a cow, these predicates are categorically various, and so the uses of the copula in the ascription of these predicates will undergo corresponding variation"H. P. Grice brings the question he had considered with J. L. Austin and P. F. Strawson at Oxford about Aristotle’s categories.In “Categoriae,” Aristotle distinguishes two sorts of case of the application of word or phrase to a range of situations. In one sort of case, both the word and a single definition (account, “logos”) apply throughout that range. In the other sort of case, the word but no single definition applies through the range.These two sorts of case have a different nature. In the first case, the word is applied synonymously (of better as “sunonuma” – literally “sun-onuma”, cognomen). In the second case the word is applied homonymously (or better “homonuma”, or aequi-vocally, literally “homo-numa.”)Grice notes that a homonymous application has some sort of sub-division which Aristotle calls "paronymy" (“paronuma”), literally ‘para onuma.’To put it roughly, homonyms have multiple meanings – what Grice has as “semantic multiplicity.”Synonyms have one meaning or ONE SENSE, but apply to different kinds of thing.A paronym, such as ‘be,’ derives from other things of a different kind. Paronyms display a ‘UNIFIED semantic multiplicity,’ if that’s not too oxymoronic: how can the multiplicity be unified while remaining a multiplicity? Aristotle states, confusingly, that "being is said in many ways". As Grice notes, ‘good’ (agathon) also is a paronym that displays unified semantic multiplicity.In Nichomachean Ethics, even more confusingly, Aristotle says that "good is said in as many ways as being". He doesn’t number the ways.So the main goal for Grice is to answer the question: If, as Aristotle suggests, at least some expressions connected with the notion of "being" exhibit semantic multiplicity, of which expressions is the suggestion true? Grice faces the question of existential being and Semantic Multiplicity. Grice stresses that Semantic Multiplicity of  "be" is not only the case of it interpretation. Other words he wants to know in what way of interpretation of this word the philosophers can detect the SM. Generally speaking there are four possible interpretations of "being": First, "be" is taken to mean "exist.”Second, "be" is taken as a copula in a predication statement.Third, "be" is taken for expressing the identity.Fourth, "Being" is considered to be a noun (equivalent to ‘object' or ‘entity') – subjectification, category shift: “Smith’s being tall suggests he is an athlete.” (cfr. A. G. N. Flew on the ‘rubbish’ that adding ‘the’ to ‘self’ results in – contra J. R. Jones). Philosophers have some problems for this kind of theory with separating interpretations from each other. It is natural for thinkers to unite the first and the fourth. The object or entity should be the things which already exist. So the SM would attach to such a noun as "entity" if, and only if, it also attaches to the word "exist". Furthermore, it seems to be a good idea to unite the first and the third. In some ways theorist can paraphrase the word "exist" in the terms of self-identity. Grice gives an example: “Julius Caesar exists if and only if Julius Caesar is identical for Julius Caesar.” Cf. Grice on ‘relative identity.’So the philosophers should investigate SM in two possible interpretations – when "be" is understood as "exist" and when "be" is understood as copula. From Aristotle's point of view ‘being’ is predicated of everything. From this statement, Grice draws the conclusion that "exist" can apply to every thing, even a square circle.This word should signify a plurality of universals and exhibits semantic multiplicity. But Grice continue his analyses and tries to show, that "exist" has not merely SM, but UNIFIED semantic multiplicity. God forbid that he breaks M. O. R., Modifed Occam’s Razor – Semantic multiplicies are not to be multiplied unificatory necessity.”In “Metaphysics,” Aristotle says that whatever things are signified by the "forms of predication". Philosophers understood the forms of predication (praedicabilium, praedicamentum) as a category. So in this way "being" has as many significations as there are forms of predication. "Be" in this case indicates what a thing is, what is like or how much it is and ctr. And no reasons to make a difference between two utterances like "man walks (flourishes)" and "the man is walking (flourishing)" – cfr. Strawson on no need to have ‘be’ explicitly in the surface form, which render some utterances absurd. Grice says that it is not a problem with interpretation of verb-forms like ‘walks' and ‘flourishes' while we can replace them by expression in a canonical form like ‘is walking' and ‘is flourishing'. Aristotle names them as canonical in form within the multiplicity of use of "be" because ‘is’ is not existential, but copulative.Cf. Descartes, I think therefore I am – I am a res cogitans, ergo I am a res. "When Aristotle says that predicates sometimes say what a thing is, sometimes what is it like (its quality), sometimes how much it is (its quantity) and so on, he seems to be saying that, if we consider the range of predicates which can be applied to some item, for example to a substance like Socrates or a cow, these predicates are categorically various, and so the uses of the copula in the ascription of these predicates will undergo corresponding variation" It means that, from Aristotle's point of view, "Socrates is F" is not an essential predication, where "F" shows the item in the category C. So the logical form of the proposition “Socrates is F” is understood as "Socrates has something which is (C) F" where is (C) represent essential connection to category C. In conclusion it can be said that the copula is a matter of the logical nature of constant connection expressed by "has" and a categorical variant relation expressed by essential "is". So we have both types of interpretation: as existence and as a copula. (Our gratitude to P. A.  Sobolevsky). ases of ''Unified Semantic Multiplicity'' (USM). Prominent among examples of USM is the application of the word 'be'; according to. Aristotle, “being is said in ... Aristotle and the alleged multiplicity of being (or something). Grice is  all for focal unity. Or, to echo Jones, if there is semantic multiplicity  (homonymy), it is in the end UNIFIED semantic multiplicity (paronymy). Or  something.

corpus: Why is Corpus so special? Find out! History of “Corpus Christi.” Cf. St. John’s. Cf. Merton. Each should have an entry. Corpus is Grice’s alma mater – so crucial. Hardieian: you only have one tutor in your life, and Grice’s was Hardie. So an exploration on Hardie may be in order. Grice hastens to add that he only learned ‘form,’ not matter, from Hardie, but the ethical and Aristotelian approach he also admitted.

cotton onto the implicature. B: If he had a more angelic temperament. Fools rushing in – Strawson Wiggins p. 520. The angelic temperament. To like someone or something; to view someone or something favorably. ... After we explained our plan again, the rest of the group seemed to cotton onto it. 2. To begin to understand something. Has nothing to do with cotton 1560s, "to prosper, succeed;" of things, "to agree, suit, fit," a word of uncertain origin. Perhaps from Welsh cytuno "consent, agree;" but perhaps rather a metaphor from cloth-finishing and thus from cotton (n.). Hensleigh Wedgwood compares cot "a fleece of wool matted together." Meaning "become closely or intimately associated (with)," is from 1805 via the sense of "to get along together" (of persons), attested from c. 1600. Related: Cottoned; cottoning.

credibility: Following Jeffrey and Davidson, respectively, Grice uses ‘desirability’ and ‘probability,’ but sometimes ‘credibibility,’ realizing that ‘credibility’ is more symmetrical with ‘desirability’ than ‘probability’ is. Urmson had explored this in “Parenthetical verbs.” Urmson co-relates, ‘certaintly’ with ‘know’ and ‘probably’ with ‘believe.’ But Urmson adds four further adverbs: “knowingly,” “unknowingly,” “believably,” and “unbelievably.” Urmson also includes three more: “uncredibly,” in variation with “incredibly,” and ‘credibly.” The keyword should be ‘credibility.’

creditum: used by Grice for the doxastic equivalent of the buletic or desideratum. A creditum is an implicatum, as Grice defines the implicatum of the content that an addresse has to assume the utterer BELIEVES to deem him rational. The ‘creditum’-condition is essential for Grice in his ‘exhibitive’ account to the communication. By uttering “Smoke!”, U means that there is some if the utterer intends that his addressee BELIEVE that he, the utterer, is in a state of soul which has the propositional complex there is smoke. It is worth noting that BELIEF is not needed for the immediate state of the utterer’s soul: this can always be either a desire or a belief. But a belief is REQUIRED as the immediate (if not ultimate) response intended by the utterer that his addressee adapt. It is curious that given the primacy that Grice held of the desirability over the credibility that many of his conversational maxims are formulated as imperatives aimed at matters of belief, conditions and value of credibility, probability and adequate evidence. In the cases where Grice emphasizes ‘information,’ which one would associate with ‘belief,’ this association may be dropped provided the exhibitive account: you can always influence or be influenced by others in the institution of a common decision provided you give and receive the optimal information, or rather, provided the conversationalists assume that they are engaged in a MAXIMAL exchange of information. That ‘information’ does not necessarily apply to ‘belief’ is obvious in how complicated an order can get, “Get me a bottle”. “Is that all?” “No, get me a bottle and make sure that it is of French wine, and add something to drink the wine with, and drive careful, and give my love to Rosie.” No belief is explicitly transmitted, yet the order seems informative enough. Grice sometimes does use ‘informative’ in a strict context involving credibility. He divides the mode of credibility into informational (when addressed to others) and indicative (when addressed to self), for in a self-addressed utterance such as, “I am being silly,” one cannot intend to inform oneself of something one already knows!

defeasibility. Strawson Wiggins ‘somehwere in the kitchen,’ ‘in one of the dining-room cupboards’ unless some feature of the context defeats the implication. Cf. G. P. Baker on H. L. A. Hart. All very Oxonian. Cf. R. Hall, Oxonian, on ‘Excluders.’ For Strawson and Wiggins that a principle holds ‘generally, ceteris paribus, is a condition for the existence of conversation, or of a good conversation. Defeasibility is a sign of the freedom of the will. The communicators can always opt out. Not a salivating dog. Levinson’s quote, “Probability, Defeasibility, and Mode Operators.”

demonstratum: ‘Rationality’ is one of those words Austin forbids to use. Grice would venture with ‘reason,’ and better, ‘reasons’ to make it countable, and good for botanising. Only in the New World, and when he started to get input from non-philosophers, did Grice explore ‘rationality’ itself. Oxonians philosophers take it for granted, and do not have to philosophise about it. Especially those who belong to Grice’s play group of ‘ordinary-language’ philosophers! 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 eudaemonia may be regarded as the goal involved in the relevant imperative.  “Aspects”, Clarendon, Stanford, The Kant memorial Lectures, “Aspects,” Clarendon, Some aspects of reason, Stanford; reason, reasoning, reasons. The lectures were also delivered as the Locke lectures. Grice is concerned with the reduction of the categorical imperative to the hypothetical or suppositional imperative. His main thesis he calls the æqui-vocality thesis: must has one unique or singular sense, that crosses the buletic-boulomaic/doxastic divide. “Aspects,” Clarendon, Grice, “Aspects, Clarendon, Locke lecture notes: reason. On “Aspects”. 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; also ‘Aspects of reason and reasoning,’ in Grice, “Aspects,” Clarendon, the Locke lectures, the Kant lectures, Stanford, 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 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 pretty early, on reasons, Grice, “Aspects,” Clarendon, 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 behaviour of a rational agent. 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. 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 that is 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. Ped 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 ‘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. 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! 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 a formal system 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 toWOW. 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 intention of the utterer to stand for it! Grice also enjoyed construal by Bennett 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. Refs.: The locus classicus is “Aspects,” Clarendon. But there are allusions on ‘reason’ and ‘rationality, in The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

desideratum: Grice makes a double use of this. It should be thus two entries. There’s the conversational desideratum, where a desideratum is like a maxim or an imperative – and then there are two specific desiderata: the desideratum of conversational clarity, and the desideratum of conversational candour. Grice was never sure what adjective to use for the ‘desiderative.’ He liked buletic. He liked desideratum because it has the co-relate ‘consideratum,’ for belief.  He uses ‘deriderative’ and a few more! Of course what he means is a sub-psychological modality, or rather a ‘soul.’ So he would apply it ‘primarily’ to the soul, as Plato and Aristotle does. The ‘psyche’, or ‘anima’ is what is ‘desiderativa.’ The Grecians are pretty confused about this (but ‘boulemaic’ and ‘buletic’ are used), and the Romans didn’t help. Grice is concerned with a rational-desiderative, that takes a “that”-clause (or oratio obliqua), and qua constructivist, he is also concerned with a pre-rational desiderative (he has an essay on “Needs and Wants,” and his detailed example in “Method” is a squarrel (sic) who needs a nut. On top, while Grice suggest s that it goes both ways: the doxastic can be given a reductive analaysis in terms of the buletic, and the buletic in terms of the doxastic, he only cares to provide the former. Basically, an agent judges that p, if his willing that p correlates to a state of affairs that satisfies his desires. Since he does not provide a reductive analysis for Prichard’s willing-that, one is left wondering. Grice’s position is that ‘willing that…’ attains its ‘sense’ via the specification, as a theoretical concept, in some law in the folk-science that agents use to explain their behaviour. Grice gets subtler when he deals with mode-markers for the desiderative: for these are either utterer-oriented, or addressee-oriented, and they may involve a buletic attitude itself, or a doxastic attitude. When utterer-addressed, utterer wills that utterer wills that p. There is no closure here, and indeed, a regressus ad infinitum is what Grice wants, since this regressus allows him to get univeersabilisability, in terms of conceptual, formal, and applicational kinds of generality. In this he is being Kantian, and Hareian. While Grice praises Kantotle, Aristotle here would stay unashamedly ‘teleological,’ and giving priority to a will that may not be universalisable, since it’s the communitarian ‘good’ that matters. what does Grice have to say about our conversational practice? L and S have “πρᾶξις,” from “πράσσω,” and which they render as ‘moral action,’ oποίησις, τέχνη;” “oποιότης,” “ἤθη καὶ πάθη καὶ π.,” “oοἱ πολιτικοὶ λόγοι;” “ἔργῳ καὶ πράξεσιν, οὐχὶ λόγοις” Id.6.3; ἐν ταῖς πράξεσι ὄντα τε καὶ πραττόμενα, “exhibited in actual life,” action in drama, “oλόγος; “μία π. ὅλη καὶ τελεία.” 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. Grice 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 the terminology by Kant can be confusing. Kant used ‘pure’ reason for reason in the doxastic realm. The critique by Kant 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. The buletic, boulomaic, or volitive, is a part of the soul, as is the doxatic or judicative. And judicative is a trick because there is such a thing as a value judgement, or an evaluative judgement, which is hardly doxastic. Grice plays with two 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. This Grice’s 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. 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 is 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 congratulates Urmson for having introduced him to the brilliant willing that … by Prichard. Why is it, Grice wonders, that many ascriptions of buletic states take to-clause, rather than a that-clause? Even mean, as ‘intend.’ In this Grice is quite different from Austin, who avoids the that-clause. The explanation by Austin is very obscure, like those of all grammars on the that’-clause, the ‘that’ of ‘oratio obliqua’ is not in every way similar to the ‘that’-clause in an explicit performative formula. Here the utterer is not reporting his own ‘oratio’ 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 a ‘that’-clause. In important classes of cases it is followed by ‘to . . .,’ or by or nothing, e. g. ‘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, e. g., when I say ‘I prophesy that …,’ ‘I concede that …’,  ‘I postulate that …,’ the clause following normally looks just like a statement, but the verb itself seems to be  pure performatives. One may 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, etc.), 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,’ or ‘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, which has Grice talking of the pseudo-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. The system of values of the society to which the agent belongs forms the external standard for judging the relative importance of the commitments by the agent. There are three dimensions of value: universally human, cultural that vary with societies and times; and personal that vary with individuals. Each dimension has a standard for judging the adequacy of the relevant values. Human values are adequate if they satisfy basic needs; cultural values are adequate if they provide a system of values that sustains the allegiance of the inhabitants of a society; and personal values are adequate if the conceptions of well‐being formed out of them enable individuals to live satisfying lives. These values conflict and our well‐being requires some way of settling their conflicts, but there is no universal principle for settling the conflicts; it can only be done by attending to the concrete features of particular conflicts. These features vary with circumstances and values. Grice reads Porter.The idea of the value chain is based on the process view of organizations, the idea of seeing a manufacturing (or service) organization as a system, made up of subsystems each with inputs, transformation processes and outputs. Inputs, transformation processes, and outputs involve the acquisition and consumption of resources – money, labour, materials, equipment, buildings, land, administration and management. How value chain activities are carried out determines costs and affects profits.In his choice of value system and value sub-system, Grice is defending objectivity, since it is 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). The problem for Kant 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. The keyword to search the H. P. Grice is ‘will,’ and ‘volitional,’ even ‘ill-will,’ (“Metaphysics and ill-will,” s. V, c. 7-f. 28) and ‘benevolence’ (vide below under ‘conversational benevolence”). Also ‘desirability’: “Modality, desirability, and probability,” s. V, c. 8-ff. 14-15, and the conference lecture in a different series, “Probability, desirability, and mood operators,” s. II, c. 2-f.11).  Grice makes systematic use of ‘practical’ to contrast with the ‘alethic,’ too (“Practical reason,” s. V, c. 9-f.1), The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

desideratum of conversational candour: tThis includes the maximin. It should be noted that candour is DESIRABLE. There is a desirability for candour. Candour is not a given. Ditto for clarity. See conversational desideratum, simpliciter. A rational desideratum is a desideratum by a rational agent and which he expects from another rational agent. One should make the strongest move, and on the other hand try not to mislead.Grice's Oxford "Conversation" Lectures, 1966Grice: Between Self-Love and Benevolence As I was saying (somewhere), Grice uses "self-love", charmingly qualified  with capitals, as "Conversational Self-Love", and, less charmingly,  "Conversational Benevolence", in lectures advertised at Oxford, as "Logic and  Conversation" that he gave at Oxford in 1964 as "University  Lecturer in Philosophy". He also gave seminars on "Conversational helpfulness." A number of the lectures by Grice include discussion of thetypes of behaviour people in general exhibit, and thereforethe types of expectations[cfr. owings]they might bring to a venture such as a conversation.Grice suggests that people in general both exhibitand EXPECT a certain degree of helpfulness [-- alla Rosenschein, epistemic/boulemaic:If A cognizes that B wills p, then A wills p.]  "from OTHERS" [-- reciprocal vs. reflexive, etc.] usually on the understanding that such helpfulness does NOT get in the way of particular goals and does not involve undue effort cf. least effort? - cfr. Hobbes on self-love. It two people, even complete strangers,are going through a gate, the expectation isthat the FIRST ONE through will hold thegate open, or at least leave it open, for thesecond. The expectation is such that todo OTHERWISE without particular reasonwould be interpreted as RUDE. The type of helpfulness exhibited andexpected in conversation is more specificbecause of a particular, although not a unique feature of conversation.It is a COLLABORATIVE venture betweenthe participants.There is a SHARED aimGrice wonders. His words, Does "helpfulness  in something  WE ARE  DOING TOGETHER” equate to 'cooperation'?He seems to have decided that it does. By the later lectures in the series, 'the principle of conversational helpfulness'has been rebranded the expectation of 'cooperation.' During the Oxford lectures, Grice develops his account of the precise nature of this cooperation. It can be seen as governed by certain regularities, or principles, detailing expected behaviour. The expression'maxim' to describe these regularities appears relatively late in the lectures.Grice's INITIAL choices of terms are 'objectives' and 'desiderata'.He was particularly fond of the latter. He was interested in detailing the desirable forms of behaviour for the purpose of achieving a joint goal of the conversation. Initially, Grice posits TWO such desiderata. Those relating to candour on the one hand and clarity on the other. The desideratum of candour contains his general PRINCIPLE of making the strongest (MAX) possible statement and, as a LIMITING (MAX) factor on this, the suggestion that speakers should try not to mislead. (Do not mislead). cfr. our"We are brothers"-- but not mutual."We are married to each other". "You _are_ a boor".----The desideratum of conversational clarity concerns the manner of expression. [His later reference to Modus or Mode as used by Kant as one of the four  categories] for any conversational contribution. It includes the IMPORTANT expectations of relevance to understanding and also insists that the main import of an utterance be clear and explicit. (“Explicate!”) These two factors are constantly to be  WEIGHED against two FUNDAMENTAL and SOMETIMES COMPETING DEMANDS. Contributions to a conversation are aimed towards the agreed current purposes by the PRINCIPLE of Conversational Benevolence. The principle of CONVERSATIONAL SELF-LOVE ensures the assumption on the part of both participants that neither will go to unnecessary trouble [LEAST EFFORT] in framing their contribution. This has been a topic of interest to Noh end. In "Conversational Immanuel" Grice tries different ways of making sense -- it is very easy to do so -- of Grice's distinctions that go over the head of some linguists I know! Reasonable versus rational for example. A Rawlsian distinction of sorts. Rational is too weak. We need 'reasonable'. So, what sort of reasonableness is that which results from this harmonious, we hope, clash of self-love and benevolence? Grice tried, wittily, to extend the purposes of conversation to involve MUTUALLY INFLUENCING EACH OTHER -- a reciprocal. (WoW, ii). And there's a mythical reconstruction of this in his "Meaning Revisited" which he contributed to this symposium organised by N. Smith on Mutua knowledge. But issues remains, we hope. The concept of ‘candour’is especially basic for Grice since it is constitutive of what it means to identify the ‘significatum.’ As he notes, ‘false’ information is no information. This is serious, because it has to do with the acceptum. A contribution which is not trustworthy is not deemed a contribution. It is conceptually impossible to intend to PROVIDE information if you are aware that you are not being trustworthy and not conveying it. As for the degree of explicitness, as Grice puts it. Since in communication in a certain fashion all must be public, if an idea or thesis is heavily obscured, it can no longer be regarded as having been propounded. This gives acceptum justification to the correlative desideratum of conversational clarity. On top, if there is a level of obscurity, the thing is not deemed to have been a communicatum or significatum. It is all about confidence, you know. U expects A will find him confident. Thus we find in Short and Lewis, “confīdo,” wich they render as “to trust confidently in something,” and also, “confide in, rely firmly upon, to believe, be assured of,” as an enhancing of “sperare,” in Cicero’s Att. 6, 9, 1. Trust and rationality are pre-requisites of conversation. Urmson develops this. They phrase in Urmson is "implied claim." Whenever U makes a conversational contribution in a standard context, there is an implied claim to U being trustworthy and reasonable.  What do Grice and Urmson mean by an "implied claim"? It is obvious enough, but they both love to expand. Whenever U utters an expression which can be used to convey truth or falsehood there is an implied claim to trustworthiness by U, unless the situation shows that this is not so. U may be acting or reciting or incredulously echoing the remark of another, or flouting the expectation. This, Grice and Urmson think, may need an explanation.  Suppose that U utters, in an ordinary circumstance, ‘It will rain tomorrow,’ or ‘It rained yesterday,’ or ‘It is raining.’ This act carries with it the claim that U should be trusted and licenses A to believe that it will rain tomorrow. By this is meant that just as it is understood that no U will give an order unless he is entitled to give orders, so it is understood that no U will utter a sentence of a kind which can be used to make a statement unless U is willing to claim that that statement is true, and hence one would be acting in a misleading manner if one uttered the sentence if he was not willing to make that claim. Here, the predicate “implies that …,” Grice, Grant, Moore, Nowell-Smith, and Urmson hasten to add, is being used in such a way that, if there is a an expectation that a thing is done in Circumstance C, U implies that C holds if he does the thing. The point is often made if not always in the terms Grice uses, and it is, Urmson and Grice believe, in substance uncontroversial. Grice and Urmson wish to make the point that, when an utterer U deploys a hedge with an indicative sentence, there is not merely an implied claim that the whole statement is true but also that is true. The implied or expressed claim by the utterer to trustworthiness need not be very strong. The whole point of a hedge is to modify or weaken (if not, as Grice would have it, flout) the claim by U to full trustworthiness which would be implied by the unhedged assertion.  But even if U utters “He is, I suppose, at home;” or “I guess that the penny will come down heads," U expresses, or for Urmson plainly implies, with however little reason, that this is what U accepts as worth the trust by A. Now Grice and Urmson meet an objection which is made by some philosophers to this comparison. Grice and Urmson intend to meet the objection by a fairly detailed examination of the example which they themselves would most likely choose. In doing this Grice and Urmson further explain the use of a parenthetical verb. The adverb is "probably" and the verb is “I believe.” To say, that something is probable, the imaginary objector will say, is to imply that it is reasonable to believe, that the evidence justifies a guarded claim for the trust or trustworthiness of U and the truth of the statement. But to say that someone else, a third person, believes something does not imply that it is reasonable for U or A to believe it, nor that the evidence justifies the guarded or implied claim to factivity or truth which U makes. Therefore, the objector continues, the difference between the use of “I believe” and “probably” is not, as Grice and Urmson suggest, merely one of nuance and degree of impersonality. In one case, “probably,” reasonableness is implied; in the other, “believe,” it is not. This objection is met by Grice and Urmson. They do so by making a general point. To use the rational-reasonable distinction in “Conversational implicature” and “Aspects,” there is an implied claim by U to reasonableness.  Further to an implied claim to trust whenever a sentence is uttered in a standard context, now Grice and Urmson add, to meet the sceptical objection about the contrast between “probably” and “I believe” that, whenever U makes a statement in a standard context there is an implied claim to reasonableness. This contention must be explained alla Kant. Cf. Strawson on the presumption of conversational relevance, and Austin, Moore, Nowell-Smith, Grant, and Warnock. To use Hart’s defeasibility, and Hall’s excluder, unless U is acting or story-telling, or preface his remarks with some such phrase as “I know Im being silly, but …” or, “I admit it is unreasonable, but …”  it is, Grice and Urmson think, a presupposition or expectation of communication or conversation that a communicator will not make a statement, thereby implying this trust, unless he has some  ground, however tenuous, for the statement. To utter “The King is visiting Oxford tomorrow,” or “The President of the BA has a corkscrew in his pocket,” and then, when asked why the utterer is uttering that, to answer “Oh, for no reason at all,” would be to sin, theologically, against the basic conventions governing the use of discourse. Grice goes on to provide a Kantian justification for that, hence his amusing talk of maxims and stuff.  Therefore, Urmson and Grice think there is an implied or expressed claim to  reasonableness  which goes with all our statements, i.e. there is a mutual expectation that a communicator will not make a statement unless he is prepared to claim and defend its reasonablenesss. Cf. Grice’s desideratum of conversational candour, subsumed under the over-arching principle of conversational helpfulness (formerly conversational benevolence-cum-self-love). Grice thinks that the principle of conversational benevolence has to be weighed against the principle of conversational self-love. The result is the overarching principle of conversational helpfulness. Clarity gets in the picture. The desideratum of conversational clarity is a reasonable requirement for conversants to abide by. Grice follows some observations by Warnock. The logical grammar of “trust,” “candour,” “charity,” “sincerity,” “decency,” “honesty,” is subtle, especially when we are considering the two sub-goals of conversation: giving and receiving information/influencing and being influenced by others. In both sub-goals, trust is paramount. The explorations of trust has become an Oxonian hobby, with authors not such like Warnock, but Williams, and others. Grice’s essay is entitled, “Trust, metaphysics, value.” Trust as a corollary of the principle of conversational helpfulness. In a given conversational setting, assuming the principle of conversational helpfulness is operating, U is assumed by A to be trustworthy and candid. There are two modes of trust, which relate to the buletic sub-goal and the doxastic sub-goal which Grice assumes the principle of conversational helpfulness captures:  giving and receiving information, and influencing and being influenced by others. In both sub-goals, trust is key. In the doxastic realm, trust has to do, not so much or only, with truth (with which the expression is cognate), or satisfactoriness-value, but evidence and probability. In the buletic realm, there are the dimensions of satisfactoriness-value (‘good’ versus ‘true’), and ‘ground’ versus evidence, which becomes less crucial. But note that one is trustworthy regarding BOTH the buletic attitude and the doxastic attitude. Grice mentions this or that buletic attitudes which is not usually judged in terms of evidential support (“I vow to thee my country.”) However, in the buletic realm, U is be assumed as trustworthy if U has the buletic attitude he is expressing. The cheater, the insincere, the dishonest, the untrustworthy, for Grice is not irrational, just repugnant. How immoral is the idea that honesty is the best policy? Is Kant right in thinking there is no right to refrain from trust? Surely it is indecent. For Kant, there is no motivation or ‘motive,’ pure or impure, behind telling the truth – it’s just a right, and an obligation – an imperative. Being trustworthy for Kant is associated with a pure motive. Grice agrees. Decency comes into the picture. An indecent agent may still be rational, but in such a case, conversation may still be seen as rational (if not reasonable) and surely not be seen as rational helpfulness or co-operation, but rational adversarial competition, rather, a zero-sum game. Grice found the etymology of ‘decent’ too obscure. Short and Lewis have “dĕcet,” which they deem cognate with Sanscrit “dacas,” ‘fame,’ and Grecian “δοκέω,‘to seem,’ ‘to think,’ and with Latin ‘decus,’ ‘dingus.’ As an impersonal verb, Short and Lewis render it as ‘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). Grice’s idea of decency is connected to his explorations on rational and reasonable. To cheat may be neither unreasonable nor rational. It is just repulsive. Indecent, in other words. In all this, Grice is concerned with ordinary language, and treasures Austin questioning Warnock, when Warnock was pursuing a fellowship at Magdalen. “What would you say the difference is between ‘Smith plays cricket rather properly’ and ‘Smith plays cricket rather incorrectly’?” They spent the whole dinner over the subtlety. By desserts, Warnock was in love with Austin. Cf. Grice on his prim and proper Aunt Matilda. The exploration by Grice on trust is Warnockian in character, or vice versa. In “Object of morality,” Warnock has trust as key, as indeed, the very object of morality. Grice starts to focus on trust in an Oxford seminars on the implicatum. If there is a desideratum of conversational candour, and the goal of the principle of conversational helpfulness is that of giving and receiving information, and influencing and being influenced by others, ‘false’ ‘information’ is just no information – Since exhibiteness trumps protrepsis, this applies to the buletic, too. Grice loved that Latin dictum, “tuus candor.” He makes an early defence of this in his fatal objection to Malcolm. A philosopher cannot intentionally instill a falsehood in his tutee, such as “Decapitation willed the death of Charles I” (the alleged paraphrase of the paradoxical philosopher saying that ‘causing’ is ‘willing’ and rephrasing “Decapitation was the cause of the death of Charles I.” There is, for both Grice and Apel, a transcendental (if weak) justification, not just utilitarian (honesty as the best policy), as Stalnaker notes in his contribution to the Grice symposium for APA. Unlike Apel, the transcendental argument is a weak one in that Grice aims to show that conversation that did not abide by trust would be unreasonable, but surely still ‘possible.’ It is not a transcendental justification for the ‘existence’ of conversation simpliciter, but for the existence of ‘reasonable,’ decent conversation. If we approach charity in the first person, we trust ourselves that some of our beliefs have to be true, and that some of our desires have to be satisfactory valid, and we are equally trusted by our conversational partners. This is Grice’s conversational golden rule. What would otherwise be the point of holding that conversation is rational co-operation? What would be the point of conversation simpliciter? Urmson follows Austin, so Austin’s considerations on this, notably in “Other minds,” deserve careful examination. Urmson was of course a member of Grice’s play group, and these are the philosophers that we consider top priority. Another one was P. H. Nowell-Smith. At least two of his three rules deserve careful examination. Nowell-Smith notes that this or that ‘rule’ of contextual implication is not meant to be taken as a ‘rigid rule’. Unlike this or that rule of entailment, a conversational rule can be broken without the utterer being involved in self-contradiction or absurdity. When U uses an expression to make a statement, it is contextually implied that he believes it to be true. Similarly, when he uses it to perform any of the other jobs for which sentences are used, it is contextually implied that he is using it for one of the jobs that it normally does. This rule is often in fact broken. Anti-Kantian lying, Bernhard-type play-acting, Andersen-type story-telling, and Wildeian irony is each a case in which U breaks the rule, or flouts the expectation, either overtly or covertly. But each of these four cases is a secondary use, i.e. a use to which an expression cannot logically or conceptually be put unless, as Hart would have it, it has a primary use. There is no limit to the possible uses to which an expression may be put. In many cases a man makes his point by deliberately using an expression in a queer way or even using it in the ‘sense’ opposite to its unique normal one, as in irony (“He is a fine friend,” implying that he is a scoundrel). The distinction between a primary and a secondary use is important because many an argument used by a philosopher consists in pointing out some typical example of the way in which some expression E is used. Such an argument is always illegitimate if the example employed is an example of a secondary use, however common such a use may be. U contextually implies that he has what he himself believes to be good reasons for his statement. Once again, we often break this rule and we have special devices for indicating when we are breaking it. Phrases such as ‘speaking offhand …,’ 'I do not really know but …,’ and ‘I should be inclined to say that …,’ are used by scrupulous persons to warn his addressee that U has not got what seem to him good reasons for his statement. But unless one of these guarding phrases is used we are entitled to believe that U believes himself to have good reasons for his statement and we soon learn to *mistrust* people who habitually infringe this rule. It is, of course, a mistake to infer from what someone says categorically that he has in fact good reasons for what he says. If I tell you, or ‘inform’ to you, that the duck-billed platypus is a bird (because I ' remember ' reading this in a book) I am unreliable; but I am not using language improperly. But if I tell you this without using one of the guarding phrases and without having what I think good reasons, I am. What U says may be assumed to be relevant to the interests of his addressee. This is the most important of the three rules; unfortunately it is also the most frequently broken. Bores are more common than liars or careless talkers. This rule is particularly obvious in the case of answers to questions, since it is assumed that the answer is an answer. Not all statements are answers to questions; information may be volunteered. Nevertheless the publication of a text-book on trigonometry implies that the author believes that there are people who want to learn about trigonometry, and to give advice implies a belief that the advice is relevant to one’s addressee's problem. This rule is of the greatest importance for ethics. For the major problem of ethics is that of bridging the gap between a decisions, an ought-sentence, an injunction, and a sentence used to give advice on the one hand and the statements of *fact*, sometime regarding the U’s soul, that constitute the reasons for these on the other. It is in order to bridge these gaps that insight into necessary synthetic connexions is invoked. This rule of contextual implication may help us to show that there is no gap to be bridged because the reason-giving sentence must turn out to be also *practical* from the start and not a statement of *fact*, even concerning the state of the U’s soul, from which a practical sentence can somehow be deduced. This rule is, therefore, more than a rule of good manners; or rather it shows how, in matters of ordinary language, rules of good manners shade into logical rules. Unless we assume that it is being observed we cannot understand the connexions between decisions, advice, and appraisals and the reasons given in support of them. Refs.: The main reference is in the first set of ‘Logic and conversation.’ Many keywords are useful, not just ‘candour,’ but notably ‘trust.’ (“Rationality and trust,” c. 9-f. 5, “Trust, metaphysics, and value,” c. 9-f. 20, and “Aristotle and friendship, rationality, trust, and decency,” c. 6-f. 18), BANC.

desideratum of conversational clarity. If mutual expectation not to mislead and produce the stronger contribution are characteristics of candour, expectation of mutual relevance to interests, and being explicit and clear in your point are two characteristics of this desideratum. “Candour” and “clarity’ are somewhat co-relative for Grice. He is interested in identifying this or that desideratum. By having two of them, he can play. So, how UNCLEAR can a conversationalist be provided he WANTS to be candid? Candour trumps clarity. But too much ‘unperspicuity’ may lead to something not being deemed an ‘implicatum’ at all. Grice is especially concerned with philosopher’s paradoxes. Why would Strawson say that the usage of ‘not,’ ‘and,’ ‘or,’ ‘if,’ ‘if and only if,’ ‘all,’ ‘some (at least one), ‘the,’ do not correspond to the logician’s use? Questions of candour and clarity interact. Grice’s first application, which he grants is not original, relates to “The pillar box seems red” versus “The pillar box is red.” “I would not like to give the false impression that the pillar box is not red” seems less clear than “The pillar box is red” – Yet the unperspicuous contributin is still ‘candid,’ in the sense that it expresses a truth. So one has to be careful. On top, philosophers like Lewis were using ‘clarity is not enough’ as a battle cry! Grice’s favourite formulations of the imperatives here are ‘self-contradictory,’ and for which he uses ‘[sic]’, notably: “Be perspicuous [sic]’ and “Be brief. Avoid unnecessary prolixity [sic].’

desirability: This Grice calls the Jeffrey operator. If Urmson likes ‘probably,’ Grice likes ‘desirably.’ This theorem is a corollary of the desirability axiom by Jeffrey, 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 the account by Grice of the adaptability of a pirot to its changeable environs. Grice borrows the notion of probability (henceforth, “pr”) 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 (Pology.): 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. The steps are as follows. Pf(p ⊃!q)/Pr(p ⊃ q); pf((p1 ^  p2) ⊃!q)/pr(p1 ^  p2 ⊃q); pf((p1 ^ p2 ^  p3) ⊃!q)/pr(p1 ^  p2 ^  p3 ^  p4 ⊃q); pf (all things before me ⊃!q)/pr (all things before me ⊃ q); pf (all things considered ⊃ !q)/pr(all things considered ⊃ q); !q/|- q; G wills !q/G judges q. Strictly, Grice avoids using the noun probability (other than for the title of this or that lecture). One has to use the sentence-modifier ‘probably,’ and ‘desirably.’ So the specific correlative to the buletic prima facie ‘desirably’ is the doxastic ‘probably.’ Grice liked the Roman sound to ‘prima facie,’ ‘at first sight’:  “exceptio, quae prima facie justa videatur.” Refs.: The two main sources are “Probability, desirability, and mood operators,” c. 2-f. 11, and “Modality, desirability and probability,” c. 8-ff. 14-15. But most of the material is collected in “Aspects,” especially in the third and fourth lectures. The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

deutero-esperanto: Arbitrariness need not be a two-party thing. E communicates to himself that there is danger by drawing a skull. Grice genially opposed to the idea of a convention. He hated a convention. A language is not conventional. Meaning is not conventional. Communication is not conventional. He was even unhappy with the account of convention by Lewis 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 P cries. There is nothing in /pein/ that minimally resembles the pain the P 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 P 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 Ps (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 Ps 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 “^”: cotch(p ^ q) “V”:  cotch(p v q) “)”: )-cotch(p ) q)  A P will be able to reject a content, refuse-thinking: ~. Cotch(~p). When P1 perceives P2, the reciprocals get more complicated.  P2 cotches that P1!-judges that p.  Grice uses ψ1 for potching and ψ2 for cotching. If P2 is co-operative, and abides by "The Ps Immanuel," P2 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 Ps outdo their progenitor Carnap as metaphysicians. The details are under “eschatology,” but the expressions are here “α izzes α.” This would be the principle of non-contradiction or identity. P1 applies it war, and utters War is war which yields a most peculiar implicature. “if α izzes β ∧ β izzes γ, α izz γ.” This is transitivity, which is crucial for Ps to overcome Berkeley’s counterexample to Locke, and define their identity over time. “if α hazzes β, α izzes β.” Or, what is accidental is not essential. A P may allow that what is essential is accidental while misleading, is boringly true. “α hazzes β iff α hazzes x ∧ x izzes β.” “If β is a katholou or universalium, β is an eidos or forma.” For surely Ps need not be stupid to fail to see squarrelhood. “if α hazzes β ∧ α izzes a particular, γ≠α ∧ α izz β.” “α izzes predicable of β iff ((β izzes α) ∨ (∃x)(β hazzes x ∧ x izzes α). “α izzes essentially predicable of β ⊃⊂ β izzes α  α izzes non-essentially/accidentally predicable of β ⊃⊂ (∃x)(β hazzes x ∧ x izzes α). α = β iff α izzes β ∧ β izzes α. “α izzes an atomon, or individuum ⊃⊂ □(∀β)(β izzes α ⊃ α izzes β). “α izzes a particular ⊃⊂ □(∀β)(α izzes predicable of β ⊃ (α izzes β ∧ β izzes α)). α izzes a universalium ⊃⊂ ◊(∃β)(α izzes predicable of α ∧ ~(α izzes β ∧ β izzes α). α izzes some-thing ⊃ α izzes an individuum. α izzes an eidos or forma ⊃ (α izzes some-thing ∧ α izzes a universalium); α izzes predicable of β ⊃⊂ (β izzes α) ∨ (∃x)(β hazzes x ∧ x izzes α). “ α izzes essentially predicable of α  α izzes accidentally predicable of β ⊃ α ≠ β.  ~(α izzes accidentally predicable of β) ⊃ α ≠ β. α izzes an kathekaston or particular ⊃ α izzes an individuum; α izz a particular ⊃ ~(∃x)(x ≠ α ∧ x izz α). ~(∃x).(x izzes a particular ∧ x izzes a forma)  ⊢ α izzes a forma ⊃ ~(∃x)(x ≠ α ∧ x izzes α). x izzes a particular ⊃ ~(∃β)(α izzes β); α izzes a forma ⊃ ((α izzes predicable of β ∧ α ≠ β) ⊃ β hazzes α);  α izzes a forma ∧ β izzes a particular ⊃ (α izzes predicable of β ⊃⊂ β hazzes A); (α izzes a particular ∧ β izzes a universalium ∧ β izzes predicable of α) ⊃ (∃γ)(α ≠ γ ∧ γ izzes essentially predicable of α). (∃x) (∃y)(x izzes a particular ∧ y izzes a universalium ∧ y izzes predicable of x ⊃ ~(∀x)(x izzes a universalium ∧ x izzes some-thing).  (∀β)(β izzes a universalium ⊃ β izzes some-thing). α izzes a particular) ⊃ ~∃β.(α ≠ β ∧ β izzes essentially predicable of α). (α izzes 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 communication-systems are made of compound expressions, which are coined from a small (theoretically minimal) set of morphemes; oligo-isolating communication-systems, 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). It all starts when Carnap claims to know that pritos karulise elatically. Grice as engineer.  Pirotese is the philosophers engaging in Pology. Actually, Pirotese is the lingo the Ps parrot. Ps karulise elatically. But not all of them. Grice finds that the Pological 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 Ps object. Grice introduces potching and cotching. To potch, in Pirotese, is what a P does with an obble: he perceives it. To cotch is Pirotese for what a P 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. Refs.: While the reference to “Deutero-Esperanto’ comes from “Meaning revisited,” other keywords are useful, notably “Pirotese” and “Symbolo.” Also keywords like “obble,” and “pirot.” The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

diagoge: Cf. Grice’s emphasis on the ‘argument’ involved in the conversational implciatum, though. To work out an impilcatum is to reach it ‘by argument.’ No argument, no conversational implicatum. But cf. argument in Emissor draws skull and communicates that there is danger. ARGUMENT involved in that Emissor intends his addressee WILL REASON. Can the lady communicate to the pigeons that she is selling ‘twopence a bag’ for their pleasure? Grice contrasted epagoge with diagoge. Cooperation with competition. Cooperative game with competitive game. But epagoge is induction, so here we’ll consider his views on probability and how it contrastds with diagoge. The diagoge is easy to identity: Grice is a social animal, with the BA, 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. Re: probability, Grice loves 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 ‒ Mill’s Induction, induction, deduction, abduction, Mill. More Grice to the Mill. Grice loved Hardies playing with Mill’s 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. As Jeffrey remarks, it is entirely possibly to desire someone’s 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 folder in the collection contains the transcripts. These are the audio-tapes themselves, obviously not in folder. 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, for ‘diagoge,’ the cognates of ‘trādūco,’ f. transduco. 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 diagogic procedure, if it could be shown to be justifiable, would have an eirenic effect. Cf. Aristotle on diagoge, schole, otium. Liddell and Scott have “διαγωγή,” which they render as “literally carrying across,” -- “τριήρων” Polyaen.5.2.6, also as “carrying through,” and “hence fig.” “ἡ διὰ πάντων αὐτῶν δ., “taking a person through a subject by instruction, Pl. Ep.343; 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. EN 1127b34, 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. And there are other entries to consider: διαγωγάν: διαίρεσιν, διανομήν, διέλευσιν. Grice knew what he was talking about! Refs.: The main sources listed under ‘desirability,’ above. There is a specific essay on ‘probability and life.’ Good keywords, too, are epagoge and induction The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

Diaphaneity Grice unique in his subtlety. Strawson and Wiggins. 'the quality of being freely pervious to light; transparency', OED. This is a crucial concept for Grice. He applies it ‘see,’ which which, after joint endeavours with G. J. Warnock, he was obsessed! Grice considers the ascription, “Warnock sees that it is raining.” And then he adds, “And it is true, I see that it is raining, too.” What’s the diference. Then comes Strawson. “Strawson, you see that it is raining, right?” So we have an ascription in the first, second, and third persons. When it comes to the identification of a sense (like vision) via experience or qualia, we are at a problem, because ‘see,’ allowing for what Ryle calls a ‘conversational avowal,’ that nobody has an authority to distrust, is what Grice calls a ‘diaphanous’ predicate. More formally. That means that “Grice sees that it is raining,” in terms of experience, cannot really be expanded except by expanding into WHAT IS that Grice sees, viz. that it is raining. The same with “communicating that p,” and “meaning that p.”

dictum: Cf. dictor, and dictivenss. Not necessarily involved with ‘say,’ but with ‘deixis,’ So a dictum is involved in Emissor E drawing a skull, communicating that there is danger. It is Hare who introduced ‘dictum’ in the Oxonian philosophical literature in his T. H. Green Essay. Hare distinguishes between the ‘dictum,’ that the cat is on the mat, from the ‘dictor,’ ‘I state that the cat is on the mat, yes.’ ‘Cat, on the mat, please.’ Grice often refers to Hare’s play with words, which he obviously enjoys. In “Epilogue,” Grice elaborates on the ‘dictum,’ and turns it into ‘dictivitas.’ How does he coin that word? He starts with Cicero, who has ‘dictivm,’ and creates an abstract noun to match. Grice needs a concept of a ‘dictum’ ambiguous as it is. Grice distinguishes between what an Utterer explicitly conveys, e. g. that Strawson took off his boots and went to bed. Then there’s what Grice implicitly conveys, to wit: that Strawson took off his boots and went to bed – in that order. Surely Grice has STATED that Strawson took off his boots and went to bed. Grice has ASSERTED that Strawson took off his boots and went to bed. But if Grice were to order Strawson: “Put on your parachute and jump!” the implicata may differ. By uttering that utterance, Grice has not asserted or stated anything. So Grice needs a dummy that will do for indicatives and imperatives. ‘Convey’ usually does – especially in the modality ‘explicitly’ convey. Because by uttering that utterance Grice has explicitly conveyed that Strawson is to put on his parachute and jump. Grice has implicitly conveyd that Strawson is to put on his parachute and THEN jump, surely.

disgrice: In PGRICE, Kemmerling speaks of disgricing as the opposite of gricing. The first way to disgrice Kemmerling calls ‘strawsonising.’For Strawson, even the resemblance (for Grice, equivalence in terms of 'iff' -- cf. his account of what an syntactically structured non-complete expression) between (G) There is not a single volume in my uncle’s library which is not by an English author,’and the negatively existential form (LFG) ~ (Ex)(Ax . ~ Bx)’ is deceptive, ‘It is not the case that there exists an x  such that x is a book in Grice’s uncle’s library and x is written by an Englishman. FIRST, 'There is not a single volume in uncle’s library which is not by an English author' -- as normally used, carries the presupposition -- or entails, for Grice --  (G2) Some (at least one) book is in Grice’s uncle’s library. SECOND, 'There is not a single volume in Grice’s uncle’s library which is not by an English author,’ is far from being 'entailed' by (G3e) It is not the case that there is some (at least one) book in my room. If we give ‘There not a single book in my room which is not by an English author’ the modernist logical form ‘~ (Ex)(Ax .~ Bx),’ we see that this is ENTAILED by the briefer, and indeed logicall stronger (in terms of entailments) ~ (Ex)Ax. So when Grice, with a solemn face, utters, ‘There is not a single foreign volume in my uncle’s library, to reveal later that the library is empty, Grice should expect his addressee to get some odd feeling. Surely not the feeling of having been lied to -- or been confronted with an initial false utterance --, because we have not. Strawson gets the feeling of having been made "the victim of a sort of communicative outrage." "What you say is outrageous!" This sounds stronger than it is. An outrage is believed to be an evil deed, offense, crime; affront, indignity, act not within established or reasonable limits," of food, drink, dress, speech, etc., from Old French outrage "harm, damage; insult; criminal behavior; presumption, insolence, overweening" (12c.), earlier oltrage (11c.), From Vulgar Latin ‘ultraticum,’ excess," from Latin ultra, beyond" (from suffixed form of PIE root *al- "beyond"). Etymologically, "the passing beyond reasonable bounds" in any sense. The meaning narrowed in English toward violent excesses because of folk etymology from out + rage. Of injuries to feelings, principles, etc., from outrage, v. outragen, "to go to excess, act immoderately," from outrage (n.) or from Old French oultrager. From 1580s with meaning "do violence to, attack, maltreat." Related: Outraged; outraging. But Strawson gets the feeling of having been made "the victim of a sort of communicative outrage.” When Grice was only trying to tutor him in The Organon. Of course it is not the case that Grice is explicitly conveying or expressing that there there is some (at least one) book in his uncle's room. Grice has not said anything false. Or rather, it is not the case that Grice utters an utterance which is not alethically or doxastically satisfactory. Yet what Grice gives Strawson the defeasible, cancellable, license to to assume that Grice thinks there is at least one book. Unless he goes on to cancel the implicature, Grice may be deemed to be misleading Strawson. What Grice explicitly conveys to be true (or false) it is necessary (though not sufficient) that there should at least one volume in his uncle’s library -- It is not the case that my uncle has a library and in that library all the books are autochthonous to England, i.e. it is not the case that Grice’s uncle has a library; for starters, it is not the case that Grice has a literate uncle. Of this SUBTLE, nuantic, or cloudy or foggy, "slight or delicate degree of difference in expression, feeling, opinion, etc.," from Fr. nuance "slight difference, shade of colour,” from nuer "to shade," from nue "cloud," from Gallo-Roman nuba, from Latin nubes "a cloud, mist, vapour," sneudh- "fog," source also of Avestan snaoda "clouds,"  Latin obnubere "to veil," Welsh nudd "fog," Greek nython, in Hesychius "dark, dusky") According to Klein, the French usage is a reference to "the different colours of the clouds,” in reference to color or tone, "a slight variation in shade; of music, as a French term in English --  'sort' is the relation between ‘There is not a volume in my uncle's library which is not by an English author,’ and ‘My uncle's library is not empty. RE-ENTER GRICE. Grice suggested that Strawson see such a fine point such as that, which Grice had the kindness to call an 'implicatum', the result of an act of an ‘implicatura’ (they were both attending Kneale’s seminar on the growth and ungrowth of logic) is irrelevant to the issue of ‘entailment’. It is a 'merely pragmatic’ implicatum, Grice would say, bringing forward a couple of distinctions: logical/pragmatic point; logical/pragmatic inference; entailment/implicatum; conveying explicitly/conveying implicitly; stating/implicating; asserting/implying; what an utterer means/what the expression 'means' -- but cf. Nowell-Smith, who left Oxford after being overwhelmed by Grice, "this is how the rules of etiquette inform the rules of logic -- on the 'rule' of relevance in "Ethics," 1955. If to call such a point, as Grice does, as "irrelevant to logic" is vacuous in that it may be interpreted as saying that that such a fine foggy point is not considered in a modernist formal system of first-order predicate calculus with identity, this Strawson wishes not to dispute, but to emphasise. Call it his battle cry! But to 'logic' as concerned with this or that relation between this or that general class of statement occurring in ordinary use, and the attending general condition under which this or that statement is correctly called 'true' or 'false,' this fine foggy nice point would hardly be irrelevant. GRICE'S FORMALIST (MODERNIST) INTERPRETATION. Some 'pragmatic' consideration, or assumption, or expectation, a desideratum of conversational conduct obviously underlies and in fact 'explains' the implicatum, without having to change the ‘sense’ of Aristotle’s syllogistics in terms of the logical forms of A, E, I, and O. If we abide by an imperative of conversational helpfulness, enjoining the maximally giving and receiving of information and the influencing and being influenced by others in the institution of a decisions, the sub-imperative follows to the effect, ‘Thou shalt NOT make a weak move compared to the stronger one that thou canst truthfully make, and with equal or greater economy of means.’ Assume the form ‘There is not a single … which is not . . .,’ or ‘It is not the case that ... there is some (at least one) x that ... is not ... is introduced in ‘ordinary’ language with the same SENSE as the expression in the ‘ideal’ language, ~(Ex)(Ax and ~Bx). Then prohibition inhibits the utterance of the form where the utterer can truly and truthfully simply convey explicitly ‘There is not a single ..., i. e. ~(Ex)(Fx). It is defeasible prohibition which tends to confer on the overprolixic form ('it is not the case that ... there is some (at least one) x that is not ...')  just that kind of an implicatum which Strawson identifies.  But having detected a nuance in a conversational phenomenon is not the same thing as rushing ahead to try to explain it BEFORE exploring in some detail what kind of a nuance it is. The mistake is often commited by Austin, too (in "Other Minds," and "A Plea for Excuses"), and by Hart (on 'carefully'), and by Hare (on "good"), and by Strawson on 'true,' (Analysis), ‘the,’ and 'if -- just to restrict to the play group. Grice tries to respond to anti-sense-datum in "That pillar box seems red to me,” but Strawson was not listening.  The overprolixic form in the ‘ordinary’ language, ‘It is not the case that there is some (at least one x) such that ... x is not ...’ would tend, if it does not remain otiose, to develop or generate just that baffling effect in one's addressee ('outrage!') that Strawson identifies, as opposed to the formal-device in the ‘ideal’ language with which the the ‘ordinary’ language counterpart is co-related. What weakens our resistance to the negatively existential analysis in this case more than in the case of the corresponding "All '-sentence is the powerful attraction of the negative opening phrase There is not …'.  To avoid misunderstanding one may add a point about the neo-traditionalist interpretation of the forms of the traditional Aristotelian system. Strawson is not claiming that it faithfully represents this or that intention of the principal exponent of the Square of Opposition. Appuleius, who knows, was perhaps, more interested in formulating this or that theorem governing this or that logical relation of this or that more imposing general statement than this or that everyday general statement that Strawson considers. Appuleius, who knows, might have been interested, e. g., in the logical powers of this or that generalisation, or this or that sentence which approximates more closely to the desired conditions that if its utterance by anyone, at any time, at any place, results in a true statement, so does its utterance by anyone else, at any other time, at any other place.  How far the account by the neo-traditionalist of this or that general sentence of 'ordinary' langauge is adequate for every generalization may well be under debate. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “In defence of Appuleius,” BANC.

disimplicatum: the target is of course Davidson having the cheek to quote Grice’s Henriette Herz Trust lecture for the BA! Lewis and Short have ‘intendere’ under ‘in-tendo,’ which they render 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” (henceforth, “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! Refs.: The source is Grice’s comment on Davidson on intending. The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

disjunctum: Strangely enough Ariskant thought disjunctum, but not conjunctum a categorial related to the category of ‘community’!Aulus Gellius (The Attic Nights, XVI, 8) tells us about this disjunction: “There also is ■ another type of a^twpa which the Greeks call and we call disjunctum, disjunctive sentence. Gellius notes that ‘or’ is by default ‘inclusive’: where one or several propositions may be simultaneously true, without ex- cluding one another, although they may also all be false. Gellius expands on the non-default reading of exclusive disjunction: pleasure is either good or bad or it is neither good nor bad (“Aut malum est voluplas, aut bonum, aul neque bonum, neque malum est”). All the elements of the exclusive disjunctive exclude one another, and their contradictory elements, Gr. avTtxs'-p.sva, are incompatible with one another”. “Ex omnibus quae disjunguntiir, unum esse verum debet, falsa cetera.”Grice lists ‘or’ as the second binary functor in his response to Strawson. But both Grice and Strawson agreed that the Oxonian expert on ‘or’ is Wood. Mitchell is good, too, though. The relations between “v” and “or” (or “either ... or …”) are, on the whole, less intimate than those between “.” and “and,” but less distant than those between “D” and “if.” Let us speak of a statement made by coupling two clauses by “or” as an alternative statement ; and let us speak of the first and second alternatesof such a statement, on analogy with our talk of the antecedent and consequent of a hypothetical statement. At a bus-stop, someone might say: “Either we catch this bus or we shall have to walk all the way home.” He might equally well have said “If we don't catch this bus, we shall have to walk all the way home.” It will be seen that the antecedent of the hypothetical statement he might have made is the negation of the first alternate of the alternative statement he did make. Obviously, we should not regard our catching the bus as a sufficient condition of the 'truth' of either statement; if it turns out that the bus we caught was not the last one, we should say that the man who had made the statement had been wrong. The truth of one of the alternates is no more a sufficient condition of the truth of the alternative statement than the falsity of the antecedent is a sufficient condition of the truth of the hypothetical statement. And since 'p"Dpyq' (and, equally, * q"3p v q ') is a law of the truth-functional system, this fact sufficiently shows a difference between at least one standard use of “or” and the meaning given to “v.” Now in all, or almost all, the cases where we are prepared to say something of the form “p or q,” we are also prepared to say something of the form 4 if not-p, then q \ And this fact may us to exaggerate the difference between “v” and “or” to think that, since in some cases, the fulfilment of one alternate is not a sufficient condition of the truth of the alternative statement of which It is an alternate, the fulfilment of one alternate is a sufficient condition of the truth of an alternative statement. And this is certainly an exaggeration. If someone says ; “Either it was John or it was Robert but I couldn't tell which,” we are satisfied of the truth of the alternative statement if either of the alternates turns out to be true; and we say that the speaker was wrong only if neither turns out to be true. Here we seem to have a puzzle ; for we seem to be saying that * Either it was John or it was Robert ' entails 4 If it wasn't John, it was Robert * and, at the same time, that ‘It was John’ entails the former, but not the latter. What we are suffering from here is perhaps a crudity in our notion of entailraent, a difficulty In applying this too undifferentiated concept to the facts of speech ; or, if we prefer it, an ambiguity in the notion of a sufficient condition. The statement that it was John entails the statement that it was either John or Robert in the sense thai it confirms it; when It turns out to have been John, the man who said that either It was John or it was Robert is shown to have been right. But the first statement does not entail the second in the sense that the step ‘It was John, so it was either John or Robert’ is a logically proper step, unless the person saying this means by it simply that the alternative statement made previously was correct, i.e., 'it was one of the two '. For the alternative statement carries the implication of the speaker's uncertainty as to which of the two it was, and this implication is inconsistent with the assertion that it was John. So in this sense of * sufficient condition ', the statement that it was John is no more a sufficient condition of (no more entails) the statement that it was either John or Robert than it is a sufficient condition of (entails) the statement that if it wasn't John, it was Robert. The further resemblance, which we have already noticed, between the alternative statement and the hypothetical statement, is that whatever knowledge or experience renders it reasonable to assert the alternative statement, also renders it reasonable to make the statement that (under the condition that it wasn't John) it was Robert. But we are less happy about saying that the hypothetical statement is confirmed by the discovery that it was John, than we are about saying that the alternative statement is confirmed by this discovery. For we are inclined to say that the question of confirmation of the hypothetical statement (as opposed to the question of its reasonableness or acceptability) arises only if the condition (that it wasn't John) turns out to be fulfilled. This shows an asymmetry, as regards confirmation, though not as regards acceptability, between 4 if not p, then q ' and * if not qy then p ' which is not mirrored in the forms ‘either p or q’ and ‘either q or p.’ This asymmetry is ignored in the rule that * if not p, then q ' and ‘if not q, then p’ are logically equivalent, for this rule regards acceptability rather than confirmation. And rightly. For we may often discuss the l truth ' of a subjunctive conditional, where the possibility of confirmation is suggested by the form of words employed to be not envisaged. It is a not unrelated difference between * if ' sentences and ‘or’ sentences that whereas, whenever we use one of the latter, we should also be prepared to use one of the former, the converse does not hold. The cases in which it does not generally hold are those of subjunctive conditionals. There is no ‘or’ sentence which would serve as a paraphrase of ‘If the Germans had invaded England in 1940, they would have won the war’ as this sentence would most commonly be used. And this is connected with the fact that c either . . . or . . .' is associated with situations involving choice or decision. 4 Either of these roads leads to Oxford ' does not mean the same as ' Either this road leads to Oxford or that road does’ ; but both confront us with the necessity of making a choice. This brings us to a feature of * or ' which, unlike those so far discussed, is commonly mentioned in discussion of its relation to * v ' ; the fact, namely, that in certain verbal contexts, ‘either … or …’ plainly carries the implication ‘and not both . . . and . . .', whereas in other contexts, it does not. These are sometimes spoken of as, respectively, the exclusive and inclusive senses of ‘or;’ and, plainly, if we are to identify 4 v’ with either, it must be the latter. The reason why, unlike others, this feature of the ordinary use of “or” is commonly mentioned, is that the difference can readily be accommodated (1 Cf. footnote to p. 86.In the symbolism of the truth-functional system: It is the difference between “(p y q) .~ (p . q)” (exclusive sense) and “p v q” (inclusive sense). “Or,” like “and,” is commonly used to join words and phrases as well as clauses. The 4 mutuality difficulties attending the general expansion of 4 x and y are/ 5 into * x is /and y is/' do not attend the expansion of 4 x or y isf into c r Is/or y is/ ? (This is not to say that the expansion can always correctly be made. We may call “v” the disjunctive sign and, being warned against taking the reading too seriously, may read it as ‘or.' While he never approached the topic separately, it’s easy to find remarks about disjunction in his oeuvre. A veritable genealogy of disjunction can be traced along Griceian lines. Refs.: Grice uses an illustration involving ‘or’ in the ‘implication’ excursus in “Causal Theory.” But the systematic account comes from WoW, especially essay 4.

ditto: cf. verum. Grice disliked Strawson’s ditto theory in Analysis of ‘true’ as admittive performatory. 1620s, "in the month of the same name," Tuscan dialectal ditto "(in) the said (month or year)," literary Italian detto, past participle of dire "to say," from Latin dicere "speak, tell, say" (from PIE root *deik- "to show," also "pronounce solemnly").  Italian used the word to avoid repetition of month names in a series of dates, and in this sense it was picked up in English. Its generalized meaning of "the aforesaid, the same thing, same as above" is attested in English by 1670s. In early 19c. a suit of men's clothes of the same color and material through was ditto or dittoes (1755). Dittohead, self-description of followers of U.S. radio personality Rush Limbaugh, attested by 1995. dittoship is from 1869.

dossier: Grice’s favourite vacuous name is ‘Bellerophon.’ ‘Vacuous names’ is an essay commissioned by Davison and Hintikka for Words and objections: essays on the work of W. V. Quine (henceforth, W and O) for Reidel, Dordrecht. “W and O” 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 as Mitchell, Myro, 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, “W and O,” vacuous name, 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 “W and O.” 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. in Ostertag, and psychological predicates. It is 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 repr. in part “Definite descriptions,” ed. Ostertag, 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.  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 δ for a definite descriptor. 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 δ if there is a set of definite descriptions which include δ, 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 δ which the utterer uses, and that the utterer U has specifically selected (or chosen, or picked) this specific δ from this dossier at least partly in the hope that his addressee A has his own dossier for δ which overlaps the utterers dossier for δ, 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. Refs.: The main reference is Grice’s “Vacuous names,” in “W and O” and its attending notes, BANC.

Ǝ Ǝx. The existential quantifier. Cited by Grice as translatable by “some (at least one)”. Noting the divergence that Strawson identified but fails to identify as a conversational implicatum.

economy: and effort. Grice would often refer to ‘no undue effort,’ ‘no unnecessary trouble,’ to go into the effort, ‘not worth the energy,’ and so on. These utilitarian criteria suggest he is more of a futilitarian than the avowed Kantian he says he is. This Grice also refers to as ‘maximum,’ ‘maximal,’ optimal. It is part of his principle of economy of rational effort. Grice leaves it open as how to formulate this. Notably in “Causal,” he allows that ‘The pillar box seems red” and “The pillar box is red” are difficult to formalise in terms in which we legitimize the claim or intuition that ‘The pillar box IS red” is ‘stronger’ than ‘The pillar box seems red.’ If this were so, it would provide a rational justification for going into the effort of uttering something STRONGER (and thus less economical, and more effortful) under the circumstances. As in “My wife is in the kitchen or in the bedroom, and the house has only two rooms (and no passages, etc.)” the reason why the conversational implicatum is standardly carried is to be found in the operation of some such general principle as that giving preference to the making of a STRONGER rather than a weaker statement in the absence of a reason for not so doing. The implicatum therefore is not of a part of the meaning of the expression “seems.” There is however A VERY IMPORTANT DIFFERENCE between the case of a ‘phenomenalist’ statement (Bar-Hillel it does not count as a statement) and that of disjunctives, such as “My wife is in the kitchen or ind the bedroom, and the house has only two rooms (and no passages, etc.).” A disjunctive is weaker than either of its disjuncts in a straightforward LOGICAL fashion, viz., a disjunctive is entailed (alla Moore) by, but does not entail, each of its disjuncts. The statement “The pillar box is red” is NOT STRONGER than the statement, if a statement it is, “The pillar box seems red,” in this way. Neither statement entails the other. Grice thinks that he has, neverthcless a strong inclination to regard the first of these statements as STRONGER than the second. But Grice leaves it open the ‘determination’ of in what fashion this might obtain. He suggests that there may be a way to provide a reductive analysis of ‘strength’ THAT YIELDS that “The pillar box is red” is a stronger conversational contribution than “The pillar box seems red.” Recourse to ‘informativeness’ may not do, since Grice is willing to generalise over the acceptum to cover informative and non-informative cases. While there is an element of ‘exhibition’ in his account of the communicatum, he might not be happy with the idea that it is the utterer’s INTENTION to INFORM his addressee that he, the utterer, INTENDS that his addressee will believe that he, the utterer, believes that it is raining. “Inform” seems to apply only to the content of the propositional complexum, and not to the attending ‘animata.’

egcrateia: or temperantia. Cfr mesotes. the geniality of Grice was to explore theoretical akrasia. Grice’s genius shows in seeing egcrateia and lack thereof as marks of virtue. “C hasn’t been to prison yet” He is potentially dishonest. But you cannot be HONEST if you are NOT potentially DISHONEST. Of course, it does not paint a good picture of the philosopher why he should be obsessed with ‘akrasia,’ when Aristotle actually opposed the notion to that of ‘enkrateia,’ or ‘continence.’ Surely a philosopher needs to provide a reductive analysis of ‘continence,’ first; and the reductive analysis of ‘incontinence’ will follow. Aristotle, as Grice well knew, is being a Platonist here, so by ‘continence,’ he meant a power structure of the soul, with the ‘rational’ soul containing the pre-rational or non-rational soul (animal soul, and vegetal soul). And right he was, too! So, Grice's twist is Έγκράτεια, sic in capitals! Liddell and Scott has it as ‘ἐγκράτεια’ [ρα^], which they render as “mastery over,” as used by Plato in The Republic: “ἐ. ἑαυτοῦ,” meaning ‘self-control’ (Pl. R.390b; ἐ. ἡδονῶν καὶ ἐπιθυμιῶν control over them, ib.430e, cf. X.Mem.2.1.1, Isoc.1.21; “περί τι” Arist.EN1149a21, al. Liddell and Scott go on to give a reference to Grice’s beloved “Eth. Nich.” (1145b8) II. abs., self-control, X. Mem.1.5.1, Isoc.3.44, Arist. EN. 1145b8, al., LXX Si.18.30, Act.Ap. 24.25, etc. 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.  Liddell and Scott have “ἐπιθυμία,” which they render as desire, yearning, “ἐ. ἐκτελέσαι” Hdt.1.32; ἐπιθυμίᾳ by passion, oπρονοίᾳ, generally, appetite, αἱ κατὰ τὸ σῶμα ἐ. esp. sexual desire, lust, αἱ πρὸς τοὺς παῖδας ἐ.; longing after a thing, desire of or for it, ὕδατος, τοῦ πιεῖν;” “τοῦ πλέονος;” “τῆς τιμωρίας;” “τῆς μεθ᾽ ὑμῶν πολιτείας;’ “τῆς παρθενίας;’ “εἰς ἐ. τινὸς ἐλθεῖν;’ ἐν ἐ. “τινὸς εἶναι;’ “γεγονέναι;” “εἰς ἐ. τινὸς “ἀφικέσθαι θεάσασθαι;” “ἐ. τινὸς ἐμβαλεῖν τινί;” “ἐ. ἐμποιεῖν ἔς τινα an inclination towards;” =ἐπιθύμημα, object of desire, ἐπιθυμίας τυχεῖν;” “ἀνδρὸς ἐ., of woman, “πενήτων ἐ., of sleep. 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; Konstan “Pathos and Passion” R. Roberts, “Emotion”; W. Fortenbaugh, Aristotle on Emotion; Simo Knuuttila, Emotions in Ancient and Medieval Philosophy. Aristotle, Rhet. II.2-12; De An., Eth.N., and Top.; Emotions in Plato and Aristotle; Philosophy of Emotion; Aristotle and the Emotions, De An. II.12 and III 1-3; De Mem. 1; Rhet. 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, 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 The Hellenistic philosophers; “The Old Stoic Theory of Emotion” The Emotions in Hellenistic Philosophy, eEmotion and Peace of Mind: From Stoic Agitation to Christian Temptation, Sorabji, Chrysippus Posidonius Seneca: A High-Level Debate on Emotion. 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; "The Stoic doctrine of the affections of the soul; The Stoic life: Emotions, duties, and fate”; 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, Pearson, Aristotle on Desire; Scheiter, Review of Pearsons Aristotle on Desire; S. Leighton, Aristotles Account of Anger: Narcissism and Illusions of Self‐Sufficiency: The Complex Evaluative World of Aristotles Angry Man,” Valuing emotions. Aristotle Rhetoric II. 4; Konstan, “Hatred”  Konstan "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 Rhet. 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, Rhet. II.5; Nicomachean Ethics III.6-9  Aristotles Courageous Passions, Platos Laws; “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, Konstan, Aristotle on the Tragic Emotions, The Soul of Tragedy: Essays on Athenian Drama  SHAME Aristotle, Rhet. II.6; Nicomachean Ethics IV.9 Konstan, Shame J. Moss, Shame, Pleasure, and the Divided Soul, B. Williams, Shame and Necessity. 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 low-level grasp of the ordinary person 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 the translation by Cicero, 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. Akarsia, see egcrateia. Refs.: The main references here are in three folders in two different series. H. P. Grice, “Akrasia,” The H. P. Grice Papers, S. II, c. 2-ff. 22-23 and S. V, c. 6-f. 32, BANC.

Emissor. Grice’s utterer, but turned Griceian, To emit, to translate some Gricism or other. Cf. proffer.

emissor-emissum distinction. Frequently ignored by Austin. Grice usually formulates it ‘roughly.’ Strawson for some reason denied the reducibility of the emissum to the emissor. Vide his footnote in his Inaugural lecture at Oxford. it is a truth implicitly acknowledged by communication theorists themselves -- this acknowledgement is is certainly implicit in Grice's distinction between what speakers actually say, in a favored sense of 'say', and what they imply (see "Utterer's Meaning, SentenceMeaning and Word-Meaning," in Foundations of Language, 1968) -- that in almost all the things we should count as sentences there is a substantial central core of meaning which is explicable either in terms of truth-conditions or in terms of some related notion quite simply derivable from that of a truth-condition, for example the notion, as we might call it, of a compliance condition in the case of an imperative sentence or a fulfillment-condition in the case of an optative. If we suppose, therefore, that an account can be given of the notion of a truthcondition itself, an account which is indeed independent of reference to communicationintention, then we may reasonably think that the greater part of the task of a general theory of meaning has been accomplished without such reference. So let us see if we can rephrase the distinction for a one-off predicament. By drawing a skull, Blackburn communicates to his fellow Pembrokite that there is danger around. The proposition is ‘There is danger around’. Of the claims, one is literal; the other metabolical. Blackburn means that there is danger around. Blackburn communicates that there is danger around, possibly leading to death. The emissum, Blackburn’s drawing of the skull ‘means’ that there is danger around. Since the fact that Blackburn communicates that p is diaphanous, we have yet another way of posing the distinction: Blackburn communicates that there is danger around. What is communicated by Blackburn – his emissum – is true. Note that in this diaphanous change from ‘Blackburn communicates that there is danger around’ and ‘What Blackburn communicates, viz. that there is danger around, is true’ we have progressed quite a bit. There are ways of involving ‘true’ in the first stage. Blackburn communicates that there is danger around, and he communicates something true. In the classical languages, this is done in the accusative case.

emit. A good verb used by Grice. It gives us ‘emitter, and it is more Graeco-Roman than his ‘utterer,’ which Cicero would think a barbarism.

emotion: The emotum, the motum. Grice enjoyed a bit of history of philosophy. Cf. conatum. And Urmson’s company helped. Urmson produced a brilliant study of the ‘emotive’ theory of ethics, which is indeed linguistic and based on Ogden. 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?, Zeno’s answer is, ‘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 the rather cryptic view by Aristotle 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. The solution by Aristotle to the aporia here, however, points to the requirement of friendships even for the philosopher, in his life of theoretical virtue. The olution by Aristotle 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. Refs.: There is an essay on “Emotions and akrasia,” but the topic is scattered in various places, such as Grice’s reply to Davidson on intending. Grice has an essay on ‘Kant and friendship,’ too, The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

entailment: “Paradoxes of entailment,” “Paradoxes of implication.” Philo and his teacher. Grice is not sure about ‘implicatum.’ The quote by Moore, 1919 being:"It might be suggested that we should say "p ent q" 'means' "p ) q AND this proposition is an instance of a formal implication, which is not merely true but self-evident, like the laws of formal logic." This proposed definitions would avoid the paradoxes involved in Strachey's definition, since such true formal implications as 'All the persons in this room are more than five years old' are certainly not self-evident; and, so far as I can see, it may state something which is in fact true of p and q, whenever and only whenp ent q. I do not myself think that it gives the meaning of 'p ent q,' since the kind of relation which I see to hold between the premises and a conclusion of a syllogism seems to me one which is purely 'objective' in the sense that no psychological term, such as is involved in the meaning of 'self-evident' is involved in its definition (it it has one). I am not, however, concerned to dispute that some such definition of "p ent q" as this may be true." --- and so on. So, it is apparently all Strachey's fault. This view as to what φA . ent . ψA means has, for instance, if I understand him rightly, been asserted by Mr. O. Strachey in Mind, N.S., 93; since he asserts that, in his opinion, this is what Professor C. I. Lewis means by “φA strictly implies ψA,” and undoubtedly what Professor Lewis means by this is what I mean by φA . ent . ψA. And the same view has been frequently suggested (though I do not know that he has actually asserted it) by Mr. Russell himself (e.g., Principia Mathematica, p. 21). I 1903 B. Russell Princ. Math. ii. 14 How far formal implication is definable in terms of implication simply, or material implication as it may be called, is a difficult  question.  Source : Principles : Chapter III. Implication and Formal Implication. –  Source : Principia, page 7 : "When it is necessary explicitly to discriminate "implication" [i.e. "if p, then q" ] from "formal implication," it is called "material implication." – Source : Principia, page 20 : "When an implication, say ϕx.⊃.ψx, is said to hold always, i.e. when (x):ϕx.⊃.ψx, we shall say that ϕx formally implies ψx"Many logicians did use ‘implicatum’ not necessarily to mean ‘conversational implicatum,’ but as the result of ‘implicatio’. ‘Implicatio’ was often identified with the Megarian or Philonian ‘if.’ Why? 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 assumption by the addressee 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 the coinage by Moore of entailment for logical consequence. As an analyst, Grice knew that a true conceptual analysis needs to be reductive (if not reductionist). The prongs the analyst lists are thus entailments of the concept in question. Philosophers, however, may misidentify what is an entailment for an implicature, or vice versa. Initially, Grice was interested in the second family of cases. With his coinage of disimplicature, Grice expands his interest to cover the first family of cases, too. Grice remains a philosophical methodologist. He is not so much concerned with any area or discipline or philosophical concept per se (unless its rationality), but with the misuses of some tools in the philosophy of language as committed by some of his colleagues at Oxford. While entailment, was, for Strawson mis-introduced in the philosophical literature by Moore, entailment seems to be less involved in paradoxes than if is. Grice connects the two, as indeed his tutee Strawson did! As it happens, Strawsons Necessary propositions and entailment statements is his very first published essay, with Mind, a re-write of an unpublication unwritten elsewhere, and which Grice read. The relation of consequence may be considered a meta-conditional, where paradoxes arise. Grices Bootstrap is a principle designed to impoverish the metalanguage so that the philosopher can succeed in the business of pulling himself up by his own! Grice then takes a look at Strawsons very first publication (an unpublication he had written elsewhere). Grice finds Strawson thought he could provide a simple solution to the so-called paradoxes of entailment. At the time, Grice and Strawson were pretty sure that nobody then accepted, if indeed anyone ever did and did make, the identification of the relation symbolised by the horseshoe with the relation which Moore calls entailment, p⊃q, i. e. ~(pΛ~q) is rejected as an analysis of p entails q because it involves this or that allegedly paradoxical implicatum, as that any false proposition entails any proposition and any true proposition is entailed by any proposition. It is a commonplace that Lewiss amendment had consequences scarcely less paradoxical in terms of the implicata. For if p is impossible, i.e. self-contradictory, it is impossible that p and ~q. And if q is necessary, ~q is impossible and it is impossible that p and ~q; i. e., if p entails q means it is impossible that p and ~q any necessary proposition is entailed by any proposition and any self-contradictory proposition entails any proposition. On the other hand, Lewiss definition of entailment (i.e. of the relation which holds from p to q whenever q is deducible from p) obviously commends itself in some respects. Now, it is clear that the emphasis laid on the expression-mentioning character of the intensional contingent statement by writing pΛ~q is impossible instead of It is impossible that p and ~q does not avoid the alleged paradoxes of entailment. But it is equally clear that the addition of some provision does avoid them. One may proposes that one should use “entails” such that no necessary statement and no negation of a necessary statement can significantly be said to entail or be entailed by any statement; i. e. the function p entails q cannot take necessary or self-contradictory statements as arguments. The expression p entails q is to be used to mean p⊃q is necessary, and neither p nor q is either necessary or self-contradictory, or pΛ~q is impossible and neither p nor q, nor either of their contradictories, is necessary. Thus, the paradoxes are avoided. For let us assume that p1 expresses a contingent, and q1 a necessary, proposition. p1 and ~q1 is now impossible because ~q1 is impossible. But q1 is necessary. So, by that provision, p1 does not entail q1. We may avoid the paradoxical assertion that p1 entails q2 as merely falling into the equally paradoxical assertion that p1 entails q1 is necessary. For: If q is necessary, q is necessary is, though true, not necessary, but a contingent intensional (Latinate) statement. This becomes part of the philosophers lexicon: intensĭo, f. intendo, which L and S render as a stretching out, straining, effort. E. g. oculorum, Scrib. Comp. 255. Also an intensifying, increase. Calorem suum (sol) intensionibus ac remissionibus temperando fovet,” Sen. Q. N. 7, 1, 3. The tune: “gravis, media, acuta,” Censor. 12. Hence:~(q is necessary) is, though false, possible. Hence “p1Λ~(q1 is necessary)” is, though false, possible. Hence p1 does NOT entail q1 is necessary. Thus, by adopting the view that an entailment statement, and other intensional statements, are non-necessary, and that no necessary statement or its contradictory can entail or be entailed by any statement, Strawson thinks he can avoid the paradox that a necessary proposition is entailed by any proposition, and indeed all the other associated paradoxes of entailment. Grice objected that Strawsons cure was worse than Moores disease! The denial that a necessary proposition can entail or be entailed by any proposition, and, therefore, that necessary propositions can be related to each other by the entailment-relation, is too high a price to pay for the solution of the paradoxes. And here is where Grices implicature is meant to do the trick! Or not! When Levinson proposed + for conversationally implicature, he is thinking of contrasting it with ⊢.  But things aint that easy. Even the grammar is more complicated: By uttering He is an adult, U explicitly conveys that he is an adult. What U explicitly conveys entails that he is not a child. What U implies is that he should be treated accordingly. Refs.: One good reference is the essay on “Paradoxes of entailment,” in the Grice papers; also his contribution to a symposium for the APA under a separate series, The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

eschatology: Why ontology is not enough. The philosopher needs to PLAY with cross-categorial barriers. He is an eschatologist. Socrates was. being and good, for Aristotle and Grice cover all. Good was a favourite of Moore and Hare, as Barnes was well aware! Like Barnes, Grice dislikes Prichards analysis of good. He leans towards the emotion-based approach by Ogden. If Grice, like Humpty Dumpty, opposes the Establishment with his meaning liberalism (what a word means is what I mean by uttering it), he certainly should be concerned with category shifts. Plus, Grice was a closet Platonist. As Plato once remarked, having the ability to see horses but not horsehood (ἱππότης) is a mark of stupidity – rendered by Liddell and Scott as “horse-nature, the concept of horse” (Antisth. et Pl. ap. Simp.in Cat.208.30,32, Sch.AristId.p.167F). Grice would endure the flinty experience of giving joint seminars at Oxford with Austin on the first two books of Aristotles Organon, Categoriae, and De Int. Grice finds the use of a category, κατηγορία, by Aristotle a bit of a geniality. Aristotle is using legalese, from kata, against, on, and agoreuô [ἀγορεύω], speak in public), and uses it to designate both the prosecution in a trial and the attribution in a logical proposition, i. e., the questions that must be asked with regard to a Subjects, and the answers that can be given. As a representative of the linguistic turn in philosophy, Grice is attracted to the idea that a category can thus be understood variously, as applying to the realm of reality (ontology), but also to the philosophy of language (category of expression) and to philosophical psychology (category of representation). Grice kept his explorations on categories under two very separate, shall we say, categories: his explorations with Austin (very serious), and those with Strawson (more congenial). Where is Smiths altruism? Nowhere to be seen. Should we say it is idle (otiose) to speak of altruism? No, it is just an attribute, which, via category shift, can be made the Subjects of your sentence, Strawson. It is not spatio-temporal, though, right. Not really.  ‒ I do not particularly like your trouser words. The essay is easy to date since Grice notes that Strawson reproduced some of the details in his Individuals, which we can very well date. Grice thought Aristotle was the best! Or at any rate almost as good as Kantotle! Aristotle saw Categoriæ, along with De Int. as part of his Organon. However, philosophers of language tend to explore these topics without a consideration of the later parts of the Organon dealing with the syllogism, the tropes, and the topics ‒ the boring bits! The reason Grice is attracted to the Aristotelian category (as Austin and Strawson equally were) is that category allows for a linguistic-turn reading. Plus, its a nice, pretentious (in the Oxonian way) piece of philosophical jargon! Aristotle couldnt find category in the koine, so he had to coin it. While meant by Aristotle in a primarily ontological way, Oxonian philosophers hasten to add that a category of expression, as Grice puts it, is just as valid a topic for philosophical exploration. His tutee Strawson will actually publish a book on Subjects and predicate in grammar! (Trivial, Strawson!). Grice will later add an intermediary category, which is the Subjects of his philosophical psychology. As such, a category can be construed ontologically, or representationally: the latter involving philosophical psychological concepts, and expressions themselves. For Aristotle, as Grice and Austin, and Grice and Strawson, were well aware as they educated some of the poor at Oxford (Only the poor learn at Oxford ‒ Arnold), there are (at least ‒ at most?) ten categories. Grice doesnt (really) care about the number. But the first are important. Actually the very first: theres substantia prima, such as Grice. And then theres substantia secunda, such as Grices rationality. The essentia. Then there are various types of attributes. But, as Grice sharply notes, even substantia secunda may be regarded as an attribute. Grices favourite game with Strawson was indeed Category Shift, or Subjects-ification, as Strawson preferred. Essence may be introduced as a sub-type of an attribute. We would have substantia prima AND attribute, which in turn gets divided into essential, the izzing, and non-essential, the hazzing. While Austin is not so fun to play with, Strawson is. Smith is a very altruist person. Where is his altruism? Nowhere to be seen, really. Yet we may sensically speak of Smiths altruism. It is just a matter of a category shift. Grice scores. Grice is slightly disappointed, but he perfectly understands, that Strawson, who footnotes Grice as the tutor from whom I never ceased to learn about logic in Introduction to logical lheory, fails to acknowledge that most of the research in Strawsons Individuals: an essay in descriptive (not revisionary) metaphysics derives from the conclusions reached at his joint philosophical investigations at joint seminars with Grice. Grice later elaborates on this with Code, who is keen on Grices other game, the hazz and the hazz not, the izz. But then tutor from whom I never ceased to learn about metaphysics sounds slightlier clumsier, as far as the implicature goes. Categories, the Grice-Myro theory of identity, Relative identity, Grice on =, identity, notes, with Myro, metaphysics, philosophy, with Code, Grice izz Grice – or izz he? The idea that = is unqualified requires qualification. Whitehead and Russell ignored this. Grice and Myro didnt. Grice wants to allow for It is the case that a = b /t1 and it is not the case that a = b /t2. The idea is intuitive, but philosophers of a Leibnizian bent are too accustomed to deal with = as an absolute. Grice applies this to human vs. person. A human may be identical to a person, but cease to be so. Indeed, Grices earlier attempt to produce a reductive analsysis of I may be seen as remedying a circularity he detected in Locke about same. Cf. Wiggins, Sameness and substance. Grice makes Peano feel deeply Griceian, as Grice lists his = postulates, here for consideration. And if you wondered why Grice prefers Latinate individuum to the Grecian. The Grecian is “ἄτομον,” in logic, rendered by L and S as ‘individual, of terms,’ Pl. Sph. 229d; of the εἶδος or forma, Arist. Metaph.1034a8, de An. 414b27.2. individual, Id. APo. 96b11, al.: as a subst., τό ἄτομον, Id. Cat. 1b6, 3a38, Metaph.1058a18 (pl.), Plot. 6.2.2, al. subst.; latinised from Grecian. Lewis and Short have “indīvĭdŭum,” an atom, indivisible particle: ex illis individuis, unde omnia Democritus gigni affirmat, Cic. Ac. 2, 17 fin.: ne individuum quidem, nec quod dirimi distrahive non possit, id. N. D. 3, 12, 29. Note the use of individuum in alethic modalities for necessity and possibility, starting with (11).  ⊢ (α izzes α). This would be the principle of non-contradiction or identity. Grice applies it to war: War is war, as yielding a most peculiar implicature. (α izzes β ∧ β izzes γ) ⊃ α izzes γ. This above is transitivity, which is crucial for Grices tackling of Reids counterexample to Locke (and which according to Flew in Locke on personal identity was predated by Berkeley.  α hazzes β ⊃ ~(α izzes β). Or, what is accidental is not essential. Grice allows that what is essential is accidental is, while misleading, true. ⊢ α hazzes β ⊃⊂ (∃x)(α hazzes x ∧ x izzes β)  ⊢ (∀β)(β izzes a universalium ⊃ β izzes a forma). This above defines a universalium as a forma, or eidos. (α hazzes β ∧ α izzes a particular) ⊃ (∃γ).(γ≠α ∧ α izzes β) ⊢ α izzes predicable of β ⊃⊂ ((β izzes α) ∨ (∃x)(β hazzes x ∧ x izzes α)  ⊢ α izzes essentially predicable of β ⊃⊂ β izzes α  ⊢ α izzes non-essentially/accidentally predicable of β ⊃⊂ (∃x)(β hazzes x ∧ x izzes α) α = β ⊃⊂ α izzes β ∧ β izzes α  ⊢ α izzes an individuum ⊃⊂ □(∀β)(β izzes α ⊃ α izzes β)  ⊢ α izzes a particular ⊃⊂ □(∀β)(α izzes predicable of β ⊃ (α izzes β ∧ β izzes α)); α izzes a universalium ⊃⊂ ◊(∃β)(α izzes predicable of α ∧ ~(α izzes β ∧ β izzes α)  ⊢ α izzes some-thing ⊃ α izzes an individuum.  ⊢ α izzes a 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)  ⊢ α izzes essentially predicable of α  ⊢ α izzes accidentally predicable of β ⊃ α ≠ β; ~(α izzes accidentally predicable of β) ⊃ α ≠ β 20. α izzes a particular ⊃ α izzes an individuum. ⊢ α izzes a particular ⊃ ~(∃x)(x ≠ α ∧ x izzes α) 22. ⊢~ (∃x).(x izzes a particular ∧ x izzes a forma) α izzes a forma ⊃ ~(∃x)(x ≠ α ∧ x izzes α)  x izzes a particular ⊃ ~(∃β)(α izz β)  ⊢ α izzes a forma ⊃ ((α izzes predicable of β ∧ α ≠ β) ⊃ β hazz α); α izzes a forma ∧ β izzes a particular ⊃ (α izzes predicable of β ⊃⊂ β hazz A)  ⊢ (α izzes a particular ∧ β izzes a universalium ∧ β izzes predicable of α) ⊃ (∃γ)(α ≠ γ ∧ γ izzes essentially predicable of α) ⊢ (∃x) (∃y)(x izzes a particular ∧ y izzes a universalium ∧ y izzes predicable of x ⊃ ~(∀x)(x izzes a universalium ∧ x izzes some-thing); (∀β)(β izzes a universalium ⊃ β izzes some-thing) ⊢ α izzes a particular) ⊃ ~∃β.(α ≠ β ∧ β izzes essentially predicable of α); (α izzes predicable of β ∧ α ≠ β)⊃ α izzes non-essentially or accidentally predicable of β. The use of this or that doxastic modality, necessity and possibility, starting above, make this a good place to consider one philosophical mistake Grice mentions in “Causal theory.” What is actual is not also possible. Cf. What is essential is also accidental. He is criticising a contemporary, if possible considered dated in the New World, form of ordinary-language philosophy, where the philosopher detects a nuance, and embarks risking colliding with the facts, rushing ahead to exploit it before he can clarify it! Grice liked to see his explorations on = as belonging to metaphysics, as the s.  on his Doctrines at the Grice Collection testifies. While Grice presupposes the use of = in his treatment of the king of France, he also explores a relativisation of =. His motivation was an essay by Wiggins, almost Aristotelian in spirit, against Strawsons criterion of space-time continuancy for the identification of the substantia prima. Grice wants to apply = to cases were the time continuancy is made explicit. This yields that a=b in scenario S, but that it may not be the case that a = b in a second scenario S. Myro had an occasion to expand on Grices views in his contribution on the topic for PGRICE. Myro mentions his System Ghp, a highly powerful/hopefully plausible version of Grices System Q, in gratitude to to Grice. Grice explored also the logic of izzing and hazzing with Code. Grice and Myro developed a Geach-type of qualified identity. The formal aspects were developed by Myro, and also by Code. Grice discussed Wigginss Sameness and substance, rather than Geach. Cf. Wiggins and Strawson on Grice for the BA. At Oxford, Grice was more or less given free rein to teach what he wanted. He found the New World slightly disconcerting at first. At Oxford, he expected his tutees to be willing to read the classics in the vernacular Greek. His approach to teaching was diagogic, as Socratess! Even in his details of izzing and hazzing. Greek enough to me!, as a student recalled! correspondence with Code, Grice sees in Code an excellent Aristotelian. They collaborated on an exploration of Aristotles underlying logic of essential and non-essential predication, for which they would freely use such verbal forms as izzing and hazing, izzing and hazzing, Code on the significance of the middle book in Aristotles Met. , Aristotle, metaphysics, the middle book. Very middle. Grice never knew what was middle for Aristotle, but admired Code too much to air this! The organisation of Aristotle’s metaphysics was a topic of much concern for Grice. With Code, Grice coined izzing and hazzing to refer to essential and non-essential attribution. Izzing and hazzing, “Aristotle on the multiplicity of being” (henceforth, “Aristotle”) PPQ, Aristotle on multiplicity, “The Pacific Philosophical Quarterly” (henceforth, “PPQ,” posthumously ed. by Loar, Aristotle, multiplicity, izzing, hazzing, being, good, Code. Grice offers a thorough discussion of Owens treatment of Aristotle as leading us to the snares of ontology. Grice distinguishes between izzing and hazzing, which he thinks help in clarifying, more axiomatico, what Aristotle is getting at with his remarks on essential versus non-essential predication. Surely, for Grice, being, nor indeed good, should not be multiplied beyond necessity, but izzing and hazzing are already multiplied. The Grice Papers contains drafts of the essay eventually submitted for publication by Loar in memoriam Grice. Note that the Grice Papers contains a typically Griceian un-publication, entitled Aristotle and multiplicity simpliciter. Rather than Aristotle on, as the title for the PPQ piece goes. Note also that, since its multiplicity simpliciter, it refers to Aristotle on two key ideas: being and the good. As Code notes in his contribution to PGRICE, Grice first presents his thoughts on izzing and hazzing publicly at Vancouver. Jones has developed the axiomatic treatment favoured by Grice. For Grice there is multiplicity in both being and good (ton agathon), both accountable in terms of conversational implicata, of course. If in Prolegomena, Grice was interested in criticising himself, in essays of historical nature like these, Grice is seeing Aristotles Athenian dialectic as a foreshadow of the Oxonian dialectic, and treating him as an equal. Grice is yielding his razor: senses are not to be multiplied beyond necessity. But then Aristotle is talking about the multiplicity of is and is good. Surely, there are ways to turn Aristotle into the monoguist he has to be! There is a further item in the Grice collection that combines Aristotle on being with Aristotle on good, which is relevant in connection with this. Aristotle on being and good (ἀγαθόν). Aristotle, being, good (agathon), ἀγαθός. As from this f., the essays are ordered alphabetically, starting with Aristotle, Grice will explore Aristotle on being or is and good (ἀγαθός) in explorations with Code. Grice comes up with izzing and hazzing as the two counterparts to Aristotles views on, respectively, essential and non-essential predication. Grices views on Aristotle on the good (strictly, there is no need to restrict Arisstotles use to the neuter form, since he employs ἀγαθός) connect with Grices Aristotelian idea of eudaemonia, that he explores elsewhere. Strictly: Aristotle on being and the good. If that had been Grices case, he would have used the definite article. Otherwise, good may well translate as masculine, ἀγαθός ‒the agathetic implicatum.  He plays with Dodgson, cabbages and kings. For what is a good cabbage as opposed to a cabbage? It does not require very sharp eyes, but only our willingness to use the eyes one has, to see that speech is permeated with the notion of purpose. To say what a certain kind of thing is is only too frequently partly to say that it is for. This feature applies to talk of, e. g., ships, shoes, sailing wax, and kings; and, possibly and perhaps most excitingly, it extends even to cabbages! Although Grice suspects Urmson might disagree. v. Grice on Urmsons apples. Grice at his jocular best. If he is going to be a Kantian, he will. He uses Kantian jargon to present his theory of conversation. This he does only at Harvard. The implicature being that talking of vaguer assumptions of helpfulness would not sound too convincing. So he has the maxim, the super-maxim, and the sub-maxim. A principle and a maxim is Kantian enough. But when he actually echoes Kant, is when he introduces what he later calls the conversational categories – the keyword here is conversational category, as categoria is used by Aristotle and Kant  ‒ or Kantotle. Grice surely knew that, say, his Category of Conversational Modality had nothing to do with the Kantian Category of Modality. Still, he stuck with the idea of four categories (versus Aristotles ten, eight or seven, as the text you consult may tell you): category of conversational quantity (which at Oxford he had formulated in much vaguer terms like strength and informativeness and entailment), the category of conversational quality (keyword: principle of conversational trust), and the category of conversational relation, where again Kants relation has nothing to do with the maxim Grice associates with this category. In any case, his Kantian joke may be helpful when considering the centrality of the concept category simpliciter that Grice had to fight with with his pupils at Oxford – he was lucky to have Austin and Strawson as co-lecturers! Grice was irritated by L and S defining kategoria as category. I guess I knew that. He agreed with their second shot, predicable. Ultimately, Grices concern with category is his concern with person, or prote ousia, as used by Aristotle, and as giving a rationale to Grices agency-based approach to the philosophical enterprise. Aristotle used kategorein in the sense of to predicate, assert something of something, and kategoria. The prote ousia is exemplified by o tis anthropos. It is obvious that Grice wants to approach Aristotles semantics and Aristotles metaphysics at one fell swoop. Grice reads Aristotles Met. , and finds it understandable. Consider the adjective French (which Aristotle does NOT consider) ‒ as it occurs in phrases such as Michel Foucault is a French citizen.  Grice is not a French citizen. Michel Foucault once wrote a nice French poem.  Urmson once wrote a nice French essay on pragmatics. Michel Foucault was a French professor.  Michel Foucault is a French professor.  Michel Foucault is a French professor of philosophy. The following features are perhaps significant. The appearance of the adjective French, or Byzantine, as the case might be ‒ cf. I’m feeling French tonight. In these phrases is what Grice has as adjunctive rather than conjunctive, or attributive. A French poem is not necessarily something which combines the separate features of being a poem and being French, as a tall philosopher would simply combine the features of being tall and of being a philosopher. French in French poem, occurs adverbially. French citizen standardly means citizen of France. French poem standardly means poem in French. But it is a mistake to suppose that this fact implies that there is this or that meaning, or, worse, this or that Fregeian sense, of the expression French.  In any case, only metaphorically or metabolically can we say that French means this or that or has sense. An utterer means. An utterer makes sense. Cf. R. Pauls doubts about capitalizing major. French means, and figuratively at that, only one thing, viz. of or pertaining to France. And English only means of or pertaining to England.  French may be what Grice (unfollowing his remarks on The general theory of context) call context-sensitive. One might indeed say, if you like, that while French means ‒ or means only this or that, or that its only sense is this or that, French still means, again figuratively, a variety of things. French means-in-context of or pertaining to France. Symbolise that as expression E means-in-context that p. Expression E means-in-context C₂ that p₂. Relative to Context C₁ French means of France; as in the phrase French citizen. Relative to context C₂, French means  in the French language, as in the phrase, French poem ‒ whereas history does not behave, like this. Whether the focal item is a universal or a particular is, contra Aristotle, quite irrelevant to the question of what this or that related adjective means, or what its sense is. The medical art is no more what an utterer means when he utters the adjective medical, as is France what an utterer means by the adjective French. While the attachment of this or that context may suggest an interpretation in context of this or that expression as uttered by the utterer U, it need not be the case that such a suggestion is indefeasible. It might be e.g. that French poem would have to mean, poem composed in French, unless there were counter indications, that brings the utterer and the addressee to a different context C₃. In which case, perhaps what the utterer means by French poem is poem composed by a French competitor in this or that competition. For French professor there would be two obvious things an utterer might mean. Disambiguation will depend on the wider  expression-context  or in the situational context attaching to the this or that circumstance of utterance. Eschatology. Some like Hegel, but Collingwoods *my* man!  ‒ Grice. Grice participated in two consecutive evenings of the s. of programmes on metaphysics organised by Pears. Actually, charming Pears felt pretentious enough to label the meetings to be about the nature of metaphysics! Grice ends up discussing, as he should, Collingwood on presupposition. Met.  remained a favourite topic for Grices philosophical explorations, as it is evident from his essay on Met. , Philosophical Eschatology, and Platos Republic, repr. in his WOW . Possibly Hardie is to blame, since he hardly tutored Grice on metaphysics! Grices two BBC lectures are typically dated in tone. It was the (good ole) days when philosophers thought they could educate the non-elite by dropping Namess like Collingwood and stuff! The Third Programme was extremely popular, especially among the uneducated ones at London, as Pears almost put it, as it was a way for Londoners to get to know what is going on down at Oxford, the only place an uneducated (or educated, for that matter) Londoner at the time was interested in displaying some interest about! I mean, Johnson is right: if a man is tired of the nature of metaphysics, he is tired of life! Since the authorship is Grice, Strawson, and Pears, Met. , in Pears, The Nature of Met., The BBC Third Programme, it is somewhat difficult to identify what paragraphs were actually read by Grice (and which ones by Pears and which ones by Strawson). But trust the sharp Griceian to detect the correct implicature! There are many (too many) other items covered by these two lectures: Kant, Aristotle, in no particular order. And in The Grice Collection, for that matter, that cover the field of metaphysics. In the New World, as a sort of tutor in the graduate programme, Grice was expected to cover the discipline at various seminars. Only I dislike discipline! Perhaps his clearest exposition is in the opening section of his Met. , philosophical eschatology, and Platos Republic, repr. in his WOW , where he states, bluntly that all you need is  metaphysics! metaphysics, Miscellaneous, metaphysics notes, Grice would possible see metaphysics as a class – category figuring large. He was concerned with the methodological aspects of the metaphysical enterprise, since he was enough of a relativist to allow for one metaphysical scheme to apply to one area of discourse (one of Eddingtons tables) and another metaphysical scheme to apply to another (Eddingtons other table). In the third programme for the BBC Grice especially enjoyed criticising John Wisdoms innovative look at metaphysics as a bunch of self-evident falsehoods (Were all alone). Grice focuses on Wisdom on the knowledge of other minds. He also discusses Collingwoods presuppositions, and Bradley on the reality-appearance distinction. Grices reference to Wisdom was due to Ewings treatment of Wisdom on metaphysics. Grices main motivation here is defending metaphysics against Ayer. Ayer thought to win more Oxonian philosophers than he did at Oxford, but he was soon back in London. Post-war Oxford had become conservative and would not stand to the nonsense of Ayers claiming that metaphysics is nonsense, especially, as Ayers implicature also was, that philosophy is nonsense! Perhaps the best summary of Griceian metaphysics is his From Genesis to Revelations: a new discourse on metaphysics. It’s an ontological answer that one must give to Grices metabolic operation from utterers meaning to expression meaning, 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. Refs.: While Grice’s choice was ‘eschatology,’ as per WoW, Essay, other keywords are useful, notably “metaphysics,” “ontology,” “theorizing,” and “theory-theory,” in The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

explanation: Cr. Occam. M. O. R. the necessity is explanatory necessity. Senses or conventional implicatata (not reachable by ‘argument’) and Strawson do not explain. G. A. Paul does not explain. Unlike Austin, who was in love with a taxonomy, Grice loved an explanation. “Ἀρχὴν δὲ τῶν πάντων ὕδωρ ὑπεστήσατο, καὶ τὸν κόσμον ἔμψυχον καὶ δαιμόνων πλήρη. “Arkhen de ton panton hudor hupestesato.” Thales’s doctrine is 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.” De caelo: “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).  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. Refs.: One good source is the “Prejudices and predilections.” Also the first set of ‘Logic and conversation.” There is also an essay on the ‘that’ versus the ‘why.’ The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

explication. A logical construction is an explication. A reductive analysis is an explication. Cf. Grice on Reductionism as a bete noire, sometimes misquoted as Reductivism. Grice used both ‘explanation’ and ‘explication’, so one has to be careful. When he said that he looked for a theory that would explain conversation or the implicatum, he did not mean explication.

expressum:  Darwin, Eckman. Drawing  a skull meaning there is danger. cf. impressum. Inside out. Expression of Impressions. As an empiricist, Grice was into ‘impress.’ But it’s always good to have a correlatum. Grice liked an abbreviation, especially because he loved subscripts. So, he starts to analyse the ‘ordinary-language’ philosohper’s mistake by using a few symbols: there’s the phrase, or utterance, and there’s the expression, for which Grice uses ‘e’ for a ‘token,’ and ‘E’ for a type. So, suppose we are considering Hart’s use of ‘carefully.’ ‘Carefully’ would be the ‘expression,’ occurring within an utterance. Surely, since Grice uses ‘expression’ in that way, he also uses to say what Hart is doing, Hart is expressing. Grice notes that ‘expressing’ may be too strong. Hart is expressing the belief THAT if you utter an utterance containing the ‘expression’ ‘carefully,’ there is an implicatum to the effect that the agent referred to is taking RATIONAL steps towards something. IRRATIONAL behaviour does not count as ‘careful’ behaviour. Grice uses the same abbreviations in discussing philosophy as the ‘conceptual analysis’ of this or that expression. It is all different with Ogden, Collingwood, and Croce, that Collingwood loved!  "Ideas, we may say generally, are symbols, as serving to express some actual moment or phase of experience and guiding towards fuller actualization of what is, or seems to be, involved in its existence or MEANING . That no idea is ever wholly adequate MEANS that the suggestiveness of experience is inexhaustible" Forsyth, English Philosophy, 1910, . Thus the significance of sound, the meaning of an utterance is here identical with the active response to surroundings and with the natural expression of emotions According to Husserl, the function of expression is only directly and immediately adapted to what is usually described as the meaning (Bedeutung) or the sense (Sinn) of the speech or parts of speech. Only because the meaning associated with a wordsowid expresses something, is that word-sound called 'expres- sion' (Ideen, p. 256 f). "Between the ,nearnng and the what is meant, or what it expresses, there exists an essential relation, because the meaning is the expression of the meant through its own content (Gehalt) What is meant (dieses Bedeutete) lies in the 'object' of the thought or speech. We must therefore distinguish these three-Word, Meaning, Object "1 Geyser, Gp cit p z8 PDF compression, OCR, web optimization using a watermarked evaluation copy of CVISION PDFCompresso These complexities are mentioned here to show how vague are most of the terms which are commonly thought satisfactory in this topic. Such a word as 'understand' is, unless specially treated, far too vague to serve except provisionally or at levels of discourse where a real understanding of the matter (in the reference sense) is not possible. The multiple functions of speech will be classified and discussed in the following chapter. There it will be seen that the expression of the speaker's intention is one of the five regular language functions. Grice hated Austin’s joke, the utteratum, “I use ‘utterance’ only as equivalent to 'utteratum;' for 'utteratio' I use ‘the issue of an utterance,’” so he needed something for ‘what is said’ in general, not just linguistic, ‘what is expressed,’ what is explicitly conveyed,’ ex-prĭmo , pressi, pressum, 3, v. a. premo. express (mostly poet. and in postAug. prose; “freq. in the elder Pliny): (faber) et ungues exprimet et molles imitabitur aere capillos,” Hor. A. P. 33; cf.: “alicujus furorem ... verecundiae ruborem,” Plin. 34, 14, 40, § 140: “expressa in cera ex anulo imago,” Plaut. Ps. 1, 1, 54: “imaginem hominis gypso e facie ipsa,” Plin. 35, 12, 44, § 153; cf.: “effigiem de signis,” id. ib.: “optime Herculem Delphis et Alexandrum, etc.,” id. 34, 8, 19, § 66 et saep.: “vestis stricta et singulos artus exprimens,” exhibiting, showing, Tac. G. 17: “pulcher aspectu sit athleta, cujus lacertos exercitatio expressit,” has well developed, made muscular, Quint. 8, 3, 10.

find play – where Grice’s implicature finds play Strawson Wiggins p. 523

freedom: Like identity, crucial in philosophy in covering everything. E cannot communicate that p, unless E is FREE. An amoeba cannot communicate thatp. End setting, unweighed rationality, rationality about the ends, autonomy. Grice was especially concerned with Kants having brought back the old Greek idea of eleutheria for philosophical discussion. Refs.: the obvious keywords are “freedom” and “free,” but most of the material is in “Actions and events,” in PPQ, and below under ‘kantianism’ – The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.Bratman, of Stanford, much influenced by Grice (at Berkeley then) thanks to their Hands-Across-the-Bay programme, helps us to understand this Pological progression towards the idea of strong autonomy or freedom. Recall that Grices Ps combine Lockes very intelligent parrots with Russells and Carnaps nonsensical Ps 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 P 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 P, a range of expressions which would be inappropriate with respect to this lower-type P. 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 P 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 P, G₁. It would be advantageous to a P₀ 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 Ps judging and willing. We equip the P 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, Aristotle’s 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 P₂ 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 P₆, 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, or so it seems to me reasonable to say. The psychology of G7 continues to have the hierarchical structure of pro-attitudes introduced with G6. The difference is that the higher-order pro-attitudes of G6 were simply characterized as desires in a broad, generic sense, and no appeal was made to the distinctive species of pro-attitude constituted by plan-like attitudes. That is the sense in which the psychology of G7 is an extension of the psychology of G6. Let us then give G7 such higher-order policies with the capacity to take a stand with respect to its desires by arriving at relevant higher-order policies concerning the functioning of those desires over time. G₇ exhibits a merger of hierarchical and planning structures. Appealing to planning theory and ground in connection to the temporally extended structure of agency to be ones will. G7 has higher-order policies that favour or challenge motivational roles of its considered desires. When G7 engages in deliberative weighing of conflicting, desired ends it seems that the assigned weights should reflect the policies that determine where it stands with respect to relevant desires. But the policies we have so far appealed to ‒ policies concerning what desires are to be ones will ‒ do not quite address this concern. The problem is that one can in certain cases have policies concerning which desires are to motivate and yet these not be policies that accord what those desires are for a corresponding justifying role in deliberation. G8. A solution is to give our creature, G_8, the capacity to arrive at policies that express its commitment to be motivated by a desire by way of its treatment of that desire as providing, in deliberation, a justifying end for action. G₈ has policies for treating (or not treating) certain desires as providing justifying ends, as, in this way, reason-providing, in motivationally effective deliberation. Let us call such policies self-governing policies. We will suppose that these policies are mutually compatible and do not challenge each other. In this way G8 involves an extension of structures already present in G7. The grounds on which G8 arrives at (and on occasion revises) such self-governing policies will be many and varied. We can see these policies as crystallizing complex pressures and concerns, some of which are grounded in other policies or desires. These self-governing policies may be tentative and will normally not be immune to change. If we ask what G8 values in this case, the answer seems to be: what it values is constituted in part by its higher-order self-governing policies. In particular, it values exercise over nonexercise even right now, and even given that it has a considered, though temporary, preference to the contrary. Unlike lower Ps, what P₈ now values is not simply a matter of its present, considered desires and preferences. Now this model of P8 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. Freud challenged the power structure of the soul in Plato: it is 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.

futurum indicativum: The future is essentially involved in “E communicates that p,” i. e. E, the emissor, intends that his addressee, in a time later than t, will come to believe this or that.  Grice is especially concerned with the future for his analysis of the communicatum. “Close the door!” By uttering “Close the door!,” U means that A is to close the door – in the future. So Grice spends HOURS exploring how one can have justification to have an intention about a future event. Grice is aware of the ‘shall.’ Grice uses ‘shall’ in the first person to mean wha the calls ‘futurum indicativum.’ (He considers the case of the ‘shall’ in the second and third persons in his analysis of mode). What are the conditions for the use of “shall” in the first person. “I shall close the door” may be predictable. It is in the indicative mode. “Thou shalt close the door,” and “He shall close the door” are in the imperative mode, or rather they correspond to the ‘futurum intentionale.’  Since Grice is an analytic philosopher, he specifies the analysis in the third person (“U means that…”) one has to be careful. For ‘futurum indicativum’ we have ‘shall’ in the first person, and ‘will’ in the second and third persons. So for the first group, U means that he will go. In the second group, U means that his addressee or a third party shall go. Grice adopts a subscript variant, stick with ‘will,’ but add the mode afterwards: so will-ind. will be ‘futurum indicativum,’ and will-int. will be futurum intentionale. The OED has it as “shall,” and defines as a Germanic preterite-present strong verb. In Old English, it is “sceal,” and which the OED renders as “to owe (money,” 1425 Hoccleve Min. Poems, The leeste ferthyng þat y men shal. To owe (allegiance); 1649 And by that feyth I shal to god and yow; 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; The present tense shall; 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; 1460 Fortescue Abs. and Lim. Mon. The king shall often times send his judges to punish rioters and risers. 1562 Legh Armory; Whether are Roundells of all suche coloures, as ye haue spoken of here before? or shall they be Namesd Roundelles of those coloures? 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.; 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. 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., Neither must they be too much broken of it, if they shall be preserued in vigor; ndicating what is appointed or settled to take place = the mod. `is to, `am to, etc. 1600 Shaks. A.Y.L. What is he that shall buy his flocke and pasture? 1625 in Ellis Orig. Lett. Ser. "Tomorrow His Majesty will be present  to begin the Parliament which is thought shall be removed to Oxford; in commands or instructions; n 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. 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. 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; n 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; in the second and third persons, expressing the determination by the Griceian utterer 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; n the second person. 1891 J. S. Winter Lumley. If you would rather not stay then, you shall go down to South Kensington Square then; in third person. 1591 Shaks. Two Gent. Verona shall not hold thee. 1604 Shaks. Oth. 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; 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. What shall we doe? shall we be gouernd still, By this false hand? 1865 Kingsley Herew. 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. 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 `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, 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 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., 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? 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 `What shal be his Names? `I will, quod she, `that it haue Names after my fader. 1600 Shaks. A.Y.L.; What shall he haue that kild the Deare? 1737 Alexander Pope, translating Horaces Epistle, And say, to which shall our applause belong, this new court jargon, or the good old song? 1812 Crabbe Tales, Shall a wife complain? In indirect question. 1865 Kingsley Herew, Let her say what shall be done with it; 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; 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; The queene neither ever was, nor is, nor ever shall be the head of the Church of England. 1601 Shaks. Jul. C. 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 volition of the utterer. 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. When shall we three meet againe? 1613 Shaks. Hen. VIII, Then wee shall haue em, Talke vs to silence. 1852 Mrs. Stowe Uncle Toms C.; `But what if you dont hit? `I shall hit, said George coolly; 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, This now shall I alway kepe surely in memorye. 1601 Shaks. Alls Well; Informe him so tis our will he should.-I shall my liege. 1885 Ruskin On Old Road, 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, The effect of the statute labour  has always been, now is, and probably shall continue to be, less productive than it might. 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. 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; 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, 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., He is confident that the blood of Christ shall wash away his sins. 1654 E. Nicholas in N. Papers, I hope neither your Cosen Wat. Montagu nor  Walsingham shall be permitted to discourse  with  the D. of Gloucester; 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. To which purpose my late Lord Chancelour gave his direction about the 3. of Decembre shallbe-two-yeares; 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. 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. 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, One man shall approve the same thing that another man shall condemn. 1870 M. Arnold St. Paul and Prot. 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, 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., 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. We extend our sympathies to the unborn generations which shall follow us on this earth; in temporal clauses: 1830 Laws of Cricket in Nyren Yng. Cricketers Tutor, If in striking, or at any other time, while the ball shall be in play, both his feet be over the popping-crease; 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 At the age of nine and twenty, Milton has already determined that this lifework shall be an epic poem; 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; he use is common in OHG. and OS., and in later HG., LG., and Du. In the Scandinavian languages it is also common, and instances occur in MSw.] 1596 Shaks. 1 Hen. IV, That with our small coniunction we should on. 1598 Shaks. Merry W. If the bottome were as deepe as hell, I shold down; n 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, `No, indeed, I havnt got all I want, said Lucy `I never shall, neither; 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. 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., 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. And Times Jas.; He is not yet executed, nor I hear not when he shall. Surely he may not will that he be executed.

futurum intentionale: The future figures more prominently than anything because in “Emissor communicates that p” there is the FUTURE ESSENTIAL. The emissor intends that his addressee in a time later than the present will do this or that. While Grice is always looking to cross the credibility/desirability divide, there is a feature that is difficult to cross in the bridge of asses. This is the shall vs. will. Grice is aware that ‘will,’ in the FIRST person, is not a matter of prediction. When Grice says “I will go to Harborne,” that’s not a prediction. He firmly contrasts it with “I shall go to Harborne” which is a perfect prediction in the indicative mode. “I will go to Harborne” is in the ‘futurum intentionale.’ Grice is also aware that in the SECOND and THIRD persons, ‘will’ reports something that the utterer must judge unpredictable. An utterance like “Thou wilt go to London” and “He will go to London” is in the ‘futurum indicativus.’ This is one nuance that Prichard forgets in the analysis of ‘willing’ that Grice eventually adopts. Prichard uses ‘will’ derivatively, and followed by a ‘that’-clause. Prichard quotes from the New-World, where the dialect is slightly different. For William James had said, “I will that the distant table slides over the floor toward me. And it does not.” Since James is using ‘will’ in the first person, the utterance is indeed NOT in the indicative, but the ‘intentional’ mode. In the case of the ‘communicatum,’ things get complicated, since U intends that A will believe that… In which case, U’s intention (and thus will) is directed towards the ‘will’ of his addressee, too, even if it is merely to adopt a ‘belief.’ So what would be the primary uses of the ‘will.’ In the first person, “I will go to Harborne” is in the futurum intentionale. It is used to report the utterer’s will. In the second and third person – “Thou will go to Harborne” and “He will go to Harborne,” the utterer uses the futurum indicativum and utters a statement which is predictable.  Since analytic philosophers specify the analysis in the third person (“U means that…”) one has to be careful. For ‘futurum intentionale’ we have ‘will’ in the first person, and ‘shall’ in the second and third persons. So for the first group, U means that he SHALL go. In the second group, U means that his addressee or a third party WILL go. Grice adopts a subscript variant, stick with ‘will,’ but add the mode afterwards: so will-ind. will be ‘futurum indicativum,’ and will-int. will be futurum intentionale. Grice distinguishes the ‘futurum imperativum.’ This may be seen as a sub-class of the ‘futurum intentionale,’ as applied to the second and third persons, to avoid the idea that one can issue a ‘self-command.’ Grice has a futurum imperativum, in Latin ending in -tō(te), used to request someone to do something, or if something else happens first. “Sī quid acciderit, scrībitō. If anything happens, write to me' (Cicero). ‘Ubi nōs lāverimus, lavātō.’ 'When*we* have finished washing, *you* get washed.’ (Terence). ‘Crūdam si edēs, in acētum intinguitō.’ ‘If you eat cabbage raw, dip it in vinegar.’ (Cato). ‘Rīdētō multum quī tē, Sextille, cinaedum dīxerit et digitum porrigitō medium.’ 'Laugh loudly at anyone who calls you camp, Sextillus, and stick up your middle finger at him.' (Martial).  In Latin, some verbs have only a futurum imperativum, e. g., scītō 'know', mementō 'remember'. In Latin, there is also a third person imperative also ending in -tō, plural -ntō exists. It is used in very formal contexts such as laws. ‘Iūsta imperia suntō, īsque cīvēs pārentō.’ 'Orders must be just, and citizens must obey them' (Cicero). Other ways of expressing a command or request are made with expressions such as cūrā ut 'take care to...', fac ut 'see to it that...' or cavē nē 'be careful that you don't...' Cūrā ut valeās. 'Make sure you keep well' (Cicero). Oddly, in Roman, the futurum indicativum can be used for a polite commands. ‘Pīliae salūtem dīcēs et Atticae.’  'Will you please give my regards to Pilia and Attica?' (Cicero. The OED has will, would. It is traced to Old English willan, pres.t. wille, willaþ, pa. t. wolde. Grice was especially interested to check Jamess and Prichards use of willing that, Prichards shall will and the will/shall distinction; the present tense will; 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; to will well that: to be willing that. 1483 Caxton Gold. Leg. 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; enoting 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; 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. I do hereby will and direct that my executrix..do excuse and release the said sum of 100l. to him;  figurative usage. of an abstract thing (e.g. reason, law): Demands, requires. 1597 Shaks. 2 Hen. IV, 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. Hee will that this authority should be for a principle of demonstration. 2 With dependent infinitive (normally without "to"); desire to, wish to, have a mind to (do something); often also implying intention. 1697 Ctess DAunoys Trav. 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.  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., 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, Men, by their nature, are prone to fight; they will fight for any cause, or for none; 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, 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); purposes to, is determined to. 1539 Bible (Great) Isa. lxvi. 6, I heare ye voyce of the Lorde, that wyll rewarde, etc; recompence his enemyes; 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; 1591 Shaks. 1 Hen. VI, This is a Riddling Merchant for the nonce, He will be here, and yet he is not here. 1728 Chambers Cycl., Honey, Some naturalists will have honey to be of a different quality, according to the difference of the flowers..the bees suck it from. Also, 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); in 1st person: sometimes in slightly stronger sense = intend to, mean to. 1600 Shaks. A.Y.L., To morrow will we be married. 1607 Shaks. Cor., Ile run away Till I am bigger, but then Ile fight. 1777 Clara Reeve Champion of Virtue, 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 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, `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, 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. A treou þet wule uallen, me underset hit mid on oðer treou. 14 In 2nd and 3rd pers., as auxiliary expressing 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. 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.  The lover of the Elizabethan drama will readily recal many such allusions; b with pers.sSubjects (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, I’ll be hanged if, etc.). 1898 H. S. Merriman Rodens Corner. But I will be hanged if I see what it all means, now; xpressing a determinate or necessary consequence (without the notion of futurity). 1887 Fowler Deductive Logic, 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; ith 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. 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. C. How far is it to Dumfries? W. It will be twenty miles. 1812 Brackenridge Views Louisiana, The agriculture of this territory will be very similar to that of Kentucky. 1876 Whitby Gloss. sThis 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. 1602 Shaks. Ham. 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. I expect we will have some good singing. 1875 E. H. Dering Sherborne. `Will I start, sir? asked the Irish groom. Usage No. 3 Elliptical and quasi-elliptical uses; n 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. 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. 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. Next week, God willing, I take my journey to my Rectory in Sussex; fig. Demands, requires (absol. or ellipt. use of 3 c). 1511 Reg. Privy Seal Scot. That na seculare personis have intrometting with thaim uther wais than law will; 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 and Psyche Aug. 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!; 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. 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. 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. The airs force is compounded of its swiftness and density, and as these are encreased, so will the force of the wind; in const. where the ellipsis may be either of an obj. clause or of an inf. 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; 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; will; willest; willeth; wills; willed (wIld); also: willian, willi, wyll, wille, wil, will, willode, will, wyllede, wylled, willyd, ied, -it, -id, willed; wijld, wilde, wild, willid, -yd, wylled,willet, willed; willd(e, wild., OE. willian wk. vb. = German “willen.” f. will sb.1, 1 trans. to wish, desire; sometimes with implication of intention: = will. 1400 Lat. and Eng. Prov. 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, 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; To assert, affirm: = will v.1 B. 4. 1614 Selden Titles Hon. 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); to dispose of by will; to bequeath or devise; 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. So absolute she seems..that what she wills to do or say, Seems wisest. 1710 J. Clarke tr. Rohaults Nat. Philos. If I will to move my Arm, it is presently moved. 1712 Berkeley Pass. Obed. He that willeth the end, doth will the necessary means conducive to that end. 1837 Carlyle Fr. Rev. All shall be as God wills. 1880 Meredith Tragic Com. 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; intr. to exercise the will; to perform the mental act of volition. 1594 Hooker Eccl. Pol. 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.. But what could induce such a being to will or to act? 1867 A. P. Forbes Explan. 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. 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. 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; 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, We Wyll and Commaunde yowe to Procede in the seid Matters. 1568 Grafton Chron., Their sute was smally regarded, and shortly after they were willed to silence. 1588 Lambarde Eiren. 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 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. 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., Willing and requiring all Officers and men to obey you; 1565 Cooper Thesaurus s.v. Classicum, By sounde of trumpet to will scilence. 1612 Bacon Ess., Of Empire. 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.; to pray, request, entreat; = desire v. 6. 1454 Paston Lett. Suppl. As for the questyon that ye wylled me to aske my lord, I fond hym yet at no good leyser. 1564 Haward tr. Eutropius. The Romaines sent ambassadoures to him, to wyll him to cease from battayle. 1581 A. Hall Iliad, His errand done, as he was willde, he toke his flight from thence. 1631 [Mabbe] Celestina. 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; fig. of a thing, to require, demand; also, to induce, persuade a person to do something. 1445 in Anglia. Constaunce willeth also that thou doo noughte with weyke corage. 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. Fries, The periphrastic future with will and shall. 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, 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.