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

futurum indicativum: 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principal verb or of have or be; The present tense shall; in general statements of what is right or becoming, = ought, superseded by the past subjunctive should; in OE.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: 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.

grammar: while philosophers would use grammar jocularly, Chomsky didnt. The problem, as Grice notes, is that Chomsky never tells us where grammar ends (“or begins for that matter.”) “Consider the P, karulising elatically.” When Carnap introduces the P, he talks syntax, not grammar. But philosophers always took semiotics more seriously than others. So Carnap is well aware of Morriss triad of the syntactics, the semantics, and the pragmatics. Philosophers always disliked grammar, because back in the days of Aelfric, philosophia was supposed to embrace dialectica and grammatica, and rhetorica. “It is all part of philosophy.” Truth-conditional semantics and implicata. Refs.: One source is an essay on ‘grammar’ in the H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

Gricism.. In analogy with Grecism, we have a Gricism, a Griceian cliché. Cf. a ‘grice’ and ‘griceful’ in ‘philosopher’s lexicon.’

grecianism: why was Grice obsessed with Socrates’s convesations? He does not say. But he implicates it. For the Athenian dialecticians, it is all a matter of ta legomena. Ditto for the Oxonian dialecticians. Ta legomena becomes ordinary language. And the task of the philosopher is to provide reductive analysis of this or that concept in terms of necessary and sufficient conditions. Cf. Hospers. Grices review of the history of philosophy (Philosophy is but footnotes to Zeno.). Grice enjoyed Zenos answer, What is a friend? Alter ego, Allego. ("Only it was the other Zeno." Grice tried to apply the Socratic method during his tutorials. "Nothing like a heartfelt dedication to the Socratic art of mid-wifery, seeking to bring forth error and to strangle it at birth.” μαιεύομαι (A.“μαῖα”), ‘to serve as a midwife, act a; “ἡ Ἄρτεμις μ.” Luc. D Deor.26.2. 2. cause delivery to take place, “ἱκανὴ ἔκπληξις μαιεύσασθαι πρὸ τῆς ὥρας” Philostr. VA1.5. 3. c. acc., bring to the birth, Marin.Procl.6; ὄρνιθας μ. hatch chickens, Anon. ap. Suid.; αἰετὸν κάνθαρος μαιεύσομαι, prov. of taking vengeance on a powerful enemy, Ar. Lys.695 (cf. Sch.). 4. deliver a woman, esp. metaph. in Pl. of the Socratic method, Tht. 149b. II. Act., Poll. 4.208, Sch. OH.4.506. Pass., τὰ ὑπ᾽ ἐμοῦ μαιευθέντα brought into the world by me, Pl. Tht. 150e, cf. Philostr.VA5.13. Refs.: the obvious references are Grice’s allusions to Aristotle, Plato, Socrates, Zeno, The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

hazzing: under conjunctum, we see that the terminology is varied. There is the copulatum. But Grice prefers to restrict to use of the copulatum to izzing and hazzing. Oddly Grice sees hazzing as a predicate which he formalizes as Hxy. To be read x hazzes y, although sometimes he uses ‘x hazz y.’

hint hinting

heterological: Grice and Thomson go heterological. Grice was fascinated by Baron Russell’s remarks on heterological and its implicate. Grice is particularly interested in Russell’s philosophy because of the usual Oxonian antipathy towards his type of philosophising. Being an irreverent conservative rationalist, Grice found in Russell a good point for dissent! If paradoxes were always sets of propositions or arguments or conclusions, they would always be meaningful. But some paradoxes are semantically flawed and some have answers that are backed by a pseudo-argument employing a defective lemma that lacks a truth-value. Grellings paradox, for instance, opens with a distinction between autological and heterological words. An autological word describes itself, e.g., polysyllabic is polysllabic, English is English, noun is a noun, etc. A heterological word does not describe itself, e.g., monosyllabic is not monosyllabic, Chinese is not Chinese, verb is not a verb, etc. Now for the riddle: Is heterological heterological or autological? If heterological is heterological, since it describes itself, it is autological. But if heterological is autological, since it is a word that does not describe itself, it is heterological. The common solution to this puzzle is that heterological, as defined by Grelling, is not what Grice a genuine predicate  ‒ Gricing is!In other words, Is heterological heterological? is without meaning. That does not mean that an utterer, such as Baron Russell, may implicate that he is being very witty by uttering the Grelling paradox! There can be no predicate that applies to all and only those predicates it does not apply to for the same reason that there can be no barber who shaves all and only those people who do not shave themselves. Grice seems to be relying on his friend at Christ Church, Thomson in On Some Paradoxes, in the same volume where Grice published his Remarks about the senses, Analytical Philosophy, Butler (ed.), Blackwell, Oxford, 104–119. Grice thought that Thomson was a genius, if ever there is one! Plus, Grice thought that, after St. Johns, Christ Church was the second most beautiful venue in the city of dreaming spires. On top, it is what makes Oxford a city, and not, as villagers call it, a town. Refs.: the main source is Grice’s essay on ‘heterologicality,’ but the keyword ‘paradox’ is useful, too, especially as applied to Grice’s own paradox and to what, after Moore, Grice refers to as the philosopher’s paradoxes. The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

ideationalism. Alston calls Grice an ideationalist, and Grice takes it as a term of abuse. Grice would occasionally use ‘mental.’ Short and Lewis have "mens.” “terra corpus est, at mentis ignis est;” so too, “istic est de sole sumptus; isque totus mentis est;”  f. from the root ‘men,’ whence ‘memini,’  and ‘comminiscor.’ Lewis and Short render ‘mens’ as ‘the mind, disposition; the heart, soul.’ Lewis and Short have ‘commĭniscor,’ originally conminiscor ), mentus, from ‘miniscor,’ whence also ‘reminiscor,’ stem ‘men,’ whence ‘mens’ and ‘memini,’  cf. Varro, Lingua Latina 6, § 44. Lewis and Short render the verb as, literally, ‘to ponder carefully, to reflect upon;’ ‘hence, as a result of reflection; cf. 1. commentor, II.), to devise something by careful thought, to contrive, invent, feign. Myro is perhaps unaware of the implicata of ‘mental’ when he qualifies his -ism with ‘modest.’ Grice would seldom use mind (Grecian nous) or mental (Grecian noetikos vs. æsthetikos). His sympathies go for more over-arching Grecian terms like the very Aristotelian soul, the anima, i. e. the psyche and the psychological. Grice discusses G. Myro’s essay, ‘In defence of a modal mentalism,’ with attending commentary by R. Albritton and S. Cavell. Grice himself would hardly use mental, mentalist, or mentalism himself, but perhaps psychologism. Grice would use mental, on occasion, but his Grecianism was deeply rooted, unlike Myro’s. At Clifton and under Hardie (let us recall he came up to Oxford under a classics scholarship to enrol in the Lit. Hum.) he knows that mental translates mentalis translates nous, only ONE part, one third, actually, of the soul, and even then it may not include the ‘practical rational’ one! Cf. below on ‘telementational.’ Refs.: The reference to mentalism in the essay on ‘modest mentalism,’ after Myro, in The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

Ideatum. Quite used by Grice. Cf. Conceptum. Sub-perceptual.  

Idem “amicus est tamquam alter idem,” a second self, Identicum. Grecian ‘tautotes.’ late L. identitās (Martianus Capella, c425), peculiarly formed from ident(i)-, for L. idem ‘same’ + -tās, -tātem: see -ty.  Various suggestions have been offered as to the formation. Need was evidently felt of a noun of condition or quality from idem to express the notion of ‘sameness’, side by side with those of ‘likeness’ and ‘oneness’ expressed by similitās and ūnitās: hence the form of the suffix.  But idem had no combining stem.  Some have thought that ident(i)- was taken from the L. adv. "identidem" ‘over and over again, repeatedly’, connexion with which appears to be suggested by Du Cange's explanation of identitās as ‘quævis actio repetita’. Meyer-Lübke suggests that in the formation there was present some association between idem and id ens ‘that being’, whence "identitās" like "entitās." But assimilation to "entitās" may have been merely to avoid the solecism of *idemitās or *idemtās. sameness. However originated, "ident(i)-" (either from adverb "identidem" or an assimilation of "id ens," "id ens," that being, "id entitas" "that entity") became the combining stem of idem, and the series ūnitās, ūnicus, ūnificus, ūnificāre, was paralleled by identitās, identicus, identificus, identificāre: see identic, identific, identify above.] to  OED 3rd: identity, n. Pronunciation:  Brit./ʌɪˈdɛntᵻti/ , U.S. /aɪˈdɛn(t)ədi/ Forms:  15 idemptitie, 15 ydemptyte, 15–16 identitie, 15– identity, 16 idemptity.  Etymology: < Middle French identité, ydemtité, ydemptité, ydentité (French identité) quality or condition of being the same (a1310; 1756 in sense ‘individuality, personality’, 1801 in sense ‘distinct impression of a single person or thing presented to or perceived by others’) and its etymon post-classical Latin identitat-, identitas quality of being the same (4th cent.), condition or fact that a person or thing is itself and not something else (8th cent. in a British source), fact of being the same (from 12th cent. in British sources), continual sameness, lack of variety, monotony (from 12th cent. in British sources; 14th cent. in a continental source) < classical Latin idem same (see idem n.) + -tās (see -ty suffix1) [sameness], after post-classical Latin essentitas ‘being’ (4th cent.).The Latin word was formed to provide a translation equivalent for ancient Greek ταὐτότης (tautotes) identity. identity: identity was a key concept for Grice. Under identity, he views both identity simpliciter and personal identity. Grice advocates psychological or soul criterianism. Psychological or soul criterianism has been advocated, in one form or another, by philosophers such as Locke, Butler, Duncan-Jones, Berkeley, Gallie, Grice, Flew, Haugeland, Jones, Perry, Shoemaker and Parfit, and Quinton. What all of these theories have in common is the idea that, even if it is the case that some kind of physical states are necessary for being a person, it is the unity of consciousness which is of decisive importance for personal identity over time. In this sense, person is a term which picks out a psychological, or mental, "thing". In claiming this, all Psychological Criterianists entail the view that personal identity consists in the continuity of psychological features. It is interesting that Flew has an earlier "Selves," earlier than his essay on Locke on personal identity. The first, for Mind, criticising Jones, "The self in sensory cognition"; the second for Philosophy. Surely under the tutelage of Grice. Cf. Jones, Selves: A reply to Flew, Philosophy.  The stronger thesis asserts that there is no conceivable situation in which bodily identity would be necessary, some other conditions being always both necessary and sufficient. Grice takes it that Locke’s theory (II, 27) is an example of this latter type. To say "Grice remembers that he heard a noise", without irony or inverted commas, is to imply that Grice did hear a noise. In this respect remember is like, know, a factive. It does not follow from this, nor is it true, that each claim to remember, any more than each claim to know, is alethic or veridical; or, not everything one seems to remember is something one really remembers. So much is obvious, although Locke -- although admittedly referring only to the memory of actions, section 13 -- is forced to invoke the providence of God to deny the latter. These points have been emphasised by Flew in his discussion of Locke’s views on personal identity. In formulating Locke’ thesis, however, Flew makes a mistake; for he offers Lockes thesis in the form if Grice can remember Hardies doing such-and-such, Grice and Hardie are the same person. But this obviously will not do, even for Locke, for we constantly say things like I remember my brother Derek joining the army without implying that I and my brother are the same person. So if we are to formulate such a criterion, it looks as though we have to say something like the following. If Derek Grice remembers joining my, he is the person who did that thing. But since remembers doing means remembers himself doing, this is trivially tautologous, and moreover lends colour to Butlers famous objection that memory, so far from constituting personal identity, presupposes it.  As Butler puts it, one should really think it self-evident that consciousness of personal identity presupposes, and therefore cannot constitute, personal identity; any more than knowledge, in any other case, can constitute truth, which it presupposes. Butler then asserts that Locke’s misstep stems from his methodology. This wonderful mistake may possibly have arisen from hence; that to be endued with consciousness is inseparable from the idea of a person, or intelligent being. For this might be expressed inaccurately thus, that consciousness makes personality: and from hence it might be concluded to make personal identity. One of the points that Locke emphasizes—that persistence conditions are determined via defining kind terms—is what, according to Butler, leads Locke astray.  Butler additionally makes the point that memory is not required for personal persistence. But though present consciousness of what we at present do and feel is necessary to our being the persons we now are; yet present consciousness of past actions or feelings is not necessary to our being the same persons who performed those actions, or had those feelings. This is a point that others develop when they assert that Lockes view results in contradiction. Hence the criterion should rather run as follows. If Derek Grice claims to remember joining the army. We must then ask how such a criterion might be used.  Grices example is: I remember I smelled a smell. He needs two experiences to use same. I heard a noise and I smelled a smell.The singular defines the hearing of a noise is the object of some consciousness. The pair defines, "The hearing of a noise and the smelling of a smell are objects of the same -- cognate with self as in I hurt me self, -- consciousness. The standard form of an identity question is Is this x the same x as that x which E and in the simpler situation we are at least presented with just the materials for constructing such a question; but in the more complicated situation we are baffled even in asking the question, since both the transformed persons are equally good candidates for being its Subjects, and the question Are these two xs the same (x?) as the x which E is not a recognizable form of identity question. Thus, it might be argued, the fact that we could not speak of identity in the latter situation is no kind of proof that we could not do so in the former. Certainly it is not a proof, as Strawson points out to Grice. This is not to say that they are identical at all. The only case in which identity and exact similarity could be distinguished, as we have just seen, is that of the body, same body and exactly similar body really do mark a difference. Thus one may claim that the omission of the body takes away all content from the idea of personal identity, as Pears pointed out to Grice. Leaving aside memory, which only partially applies to the case, character and attainments are quite clearly general things. Joness character is, in a sense, a particular; just because Jones’s character refers to the instantiation of certain properties by a particular (and bodily) man, as Strawson points out to Grice (Particular and general). If in ‘Negation and privation,’ Grice tackles Aristotle, he now tackles Locke. Indeed, seeing that Grice went years later to the topic as motivated by, of all people, Haugeland, rather than perhaps the more academic milieu that Perry offers, Grice became obsessed with Hume’s sceptical doubts! Hume writes in the Appendix that when he turns his reflection on himself, Hume never can perceive this self without some one or more perceptions. Nor can Hume ever perceive any thing but the perceptions. It is the composition of these, therefore, which forms the self, Hume thinks. Hume grants that one can conceive a thinking being to have either many or few perceptions. Suppose, says Hume, the mind to be reduced even below the life of an oyster. Suppose the oyster to have only one perception, as of thirst or hunger. Consider the oyster in that situation. Does the oyster conceive any thing but merely that perception? Has the oyster any notion of, to use Gallies pretentious Aristotelian jargon, self or substance? If not, the addition of this or other perception can never give the oyster that notion. The annihilation, which this or that philosopher, including Grices first post-war tutee, Flew, supposes to  follow upon death, and which entirely destroys  the oysters self, is nothing but an extinction  of all particular perceptions; love and hatred,  pain and pleasure, thought and sensation. These therefore must be the same with self; since the one cannot survive the other. Is self the same with substance? If it be, how can that question have place, concerning the subsistence of self, under a change of substance? If they be distinct, what is the difference betwixt them? For his part, Hume claims, he has a notion of neither, when conceived distinct from this or that particular perception. However extraordinary Hume’s conclusion may seem,   it need not surprise us. Most philosophers, such as Locke, seems inclined to think, that personal identity arises from consciousness. But consciousness is nothing but a reflected thought or perception, Hume suggests. This is Grices quandary about personal identity and its implicata. Some philosophers have taken Grice as trying to provide an exegesis of Locke. However, their approaches surely differ. What works for Grice may not work for Locke. For Grice it is analytically true that it is not the case that Person₁ and Person may have the same experience. Grice explicitly states that he thinks that his logical-construction theory is a modification of Locke’s theory. Grice does not seem terribly interested to find why it may not, even if the York-based Locke Society might! Rather than introjecting into Lockes shoes, Grices strategy seems to dismiss Locke, shoes and all. Specifically, it not clear to Grice what Lockes answer in the Essay would be to Grices question about this or that I utterance that he sets his analysis with. Admittedly, Grice does quote, albeit briefly, directly from Lockes Essay. As far as any intelligent being can repeat the idea of any past action with the same consciousness it had of it at first, and with the same consciousness it has of any present action, Locke claims, so far the being is the same personal self. Grice tackles Lockes claim with four objections. These are important to consider since Grice sees as improving on Locke. A first objection concerns icircularity, with which Grice easily disposes by following Hume and appealing to the experience of memory or introspection. A second objection is Reid’s alleged counterexample about the long-term memory of the admiral who cannot remember that he was flogged as a boy. Grice dismisses this as involving too long-term of a memory. A third objection concerns Locke’s vagueness about the aboutness of consciousness, a point made by Hume in the Appendix. A fourth objection concerns again circularity, this time in Locke’s use of same in the definiens ‒ cf. Wiggins, Sameness and substance. It’s extraordinary that Wiggins is philosophising on anything Griceian. Grice is concerned with the implicatum involved in the use of the first person singular. I will be fighting soon. Grice means in body and soul. The utterance also indicates that this is Grices pre-war days at Oxford. No wonder his choice of an example. What else could he have in his soul? The topic of personal identity, which label Hume and Austin found pretentious, and preferred to talk about the illocutionary force of I, has a special Oxonian pedigree, perhaps as motivated by Humes challenge, that Grice has occasion to study and explore for his M. A. Lit. Hum. with Locke’s Essay as mandatory reading. Locke, a philosopher with whom Oxford identifies most, infamously defends this memory-based account of I. Up in Scotland, Reid reads it and concocts this alleged counter-example. Hume, or Home, if you must, enjoys it. In fact, while in the Mind essay he is not too specific about Hume, Grice will, due mainly to his joint investigations with Haugeland, approach, introjecting into the shoes of Hume ‒ who is idolised in The New World ‒ in ways he does not introject into Lockes. But Grices quandary is Hume’s quandary, too. In his own approach to I, the Cartesian ego, made transcendental and apperceptive by Kant, Grice updates the time-honoured empiricist mnemonic analysis by Locke. The first update is in style. Grice embraces, as he does with negation, a logical construction, alla Russell, via Broad, of this or that “I” (first-person) utterance, ending up with an analysis of a “someone,” third-person, less informative, utterance. Grices immediate source is Gallie’s essay on self and substance in Mind. Mind is still a review of psychology and philosophy, so poor Grice has not much choice. In fact, Grice is being heterodoxical or heretic enough to use Broad’s taxonomy, straight from the other place of I utterances. The logical-construction theory is a third proposal, next to the Bradleyian idealist pure-ego theory and the misleading covert-description theory. Grice deals with the Reids alleged counterexample of the brave officer. Suppose, Reid says, and Grice quotes verbatim, a brave officer to have been flogged when a boy at school, for robbing an orchard, to have taken a standard from the enemy in his first campaign, and to have been made a general in advanced life. Suppose also, which must be admitted to be possible, that when he₂ took the standard, he₂ was conscious of his having been flogged at school, and that, when made a general, he₃ was conscious of his₂ taking the standard, but had absolutely lost the consciousness of his1 flogging. These things being supposed, it follows, from Lockes doctrine, that he1 who is flogged at school is the same person as him₂ who later takes the standard, and that he₂ who later takes the standard is the same person as him₃ who is still later made a general. When it follows, if there be any truth in logic, that the general is the same person with him₁ who is flogged at school. But the general’s consciousness does emphatically not reach so far back as his1 flogging. Therefore, according to Locke’s doctrine, he₃ is emphatically not the same person as him1 who is flogged. Therefore, we can say about the general that he₃ is, and at the same time, that he₃ is not the same person as him₁ who was flogged at school. Grice, wholl later add a temporal suffix to =t yielding, by transitivity. The flogged boy =_t1 the brave officer. And the brave officer =_t2 the admiral. But the admiral ≠_t3 the flogged boy. In Mind, Grice tackles the basic analysans, and comes up with a rather elaborate analysans for a simple I or Someone statement. Grice just turns to a generic affirmative variant of the utterance he had used in Negation. It is now someone, viz. I, who hears that the bell tolls. It is the affirmative counterpart of the focus of his earlier essay on negation, I do not hear that the bell tolls. Grice dismisses what, in the other place, was referred to as privileged-access, and the indexicality of I, an approach that will be made popular by Perry, who however reprints Grices essay in his influential collection for the University of California Press. By allowing for someone, viz. I, Grice seems to be relying on a piece of reasoning which hell later, in his first Locke lecture, refer to as too good. I hear that the bell tolls; therefore, someone hears that the bell tolls. Grice attempts to reduce this or that I utterance (Someone, viz. I, hears that the bell tolls) is in terms of a chain or sequence of mnemonic states. It poses a few quandaries itself. While quoting from this or that recent philosopher such as Gallie and Broad, it is a good thing that Grice has occasion to go back to, or revisit, Locke and contest this or that infamous and alleged counterexample presented by Reid and Hume. Grice adds a methodological note to his proposed logical-construction theory of personal identity. There is some intricacy of his reductive analysis, indeed logical construction, for an apparently simple and harmless utterance (cf. his earlier essay on I do not hear that the bell tolls). But this intricacy does not prove the analysis wrong. Only that Grice is too subtle. If the reductive analysis of not is in terms of each state which I am experiencing is incompatible with phi), that should not be a minus, or drawback, but a plus, and an advantage in terms of philosophical progress. The same holds here in terms of the concept of a temporary state. Much later, Grice reconsiders, or revisits, indeed, Broads remark and re-titles his approach as the (or a) logical-construction theory of personal identity. And, with Haugeland, Grice re-considers Humes own vagaries, or quandary, with personal identity. Unlike the more conservative Locke that Grice favours in the pages of Mind, eliminationist Hume sees ‘I’ as a conceptual muddle, indeed a metaphysical chimæra. Hume presses the point for an empiricist verificationist account of I. For, as Russell would rhetorically ask, ‘What can be more direct that the experience of myself?’ The Hume Society should take notice of Grices simplification of Hume’s implicatum on I, if The Locke Society won’t. As a matter of fact, Grice calls one of his metaphysical construction routines the Humeian projection, so it is not too adventurous to think that Grice considers I  as an intuitive concept that needs to be metaphysically re-constructed and be given a legitimate Fregeian sense. Why that label for a construction routine? Grice calls this metaphysical construction routine Humeian projection, since the mind (or soul) as it were, spreads over its objects. But, by mind, Hume does not necessarily mean the I. Cf. The minds I. Grice is especially concerned with the poverty and weaknesses of Humes criticism to Lockes account of personal identity. Grice opts to revisit the Lockeian memory-based of this or that someone, viz. I utterance that Hume rather regards as vague, and confusing. Unlike Humes, neither Lockes nor Grices reductive analysis of personal identity is reductionist and eliminationist. The reductive-reductionist distinction Grice draws in Retrospective epilogue as he responds to Rountree-Jack on this or that alleged wrong on meaning that. It is only natural that Grice would be sympathetic to Locke. Grice explores these issues with Haugeland mainly at seminars. One may wonder why Grice spends so much time in a philosopher such as Hume, with whom he agreed almost on nothing! The answer is Humes influence in the Third World that forced Grice to focus on this or that philosopher. Surely Locke is less popular in the New World than Hume is. One supposes Grice is trying to save Hume at the implicatum level, at least. The phrase or term of art, logical construction is Russells and Broads, but Grice loved it. Rational reconstruction is not too dissimilar. Grice prefers Russells and Broads more conservative label. This is more than a terminological point. If Hume is right and there is NO intuitive concept behind I, one cannot strictly re-construct it, only construct it. Ultimately, Grice shows that, if only at the implicatum level, we are able to provide an analysandum for this or that someone, viz. I utterance without using I, by implicating only this or that mnemonic concept, which belongs, naturally, as his theory of negation does, in a theory of philosophical psychology, and again a lower branch of it, dealing with memory. The topic of personal identity unites various interests of Grice. The first is identity “=” simpliciter. Instead of talking of the meaning of I, as, say, Anscombe would, Grice sticks to the traditional category, or keyword, for this, i. e. the theory-laden, personal identity, or even personal sameness. Personal identity is a type of identity, but personal adds something to it. Surely Hume was stretching person a bit when using the example of a soul with a life lower than an oyster. Since Grice follows Aristotles De Anima, he enjoys Hume’s choice, though. It may be argued that personal adds Locke’s consciousness, and rational agency. Grice plays with the body-soul distinction. I, viz someone or somebody, fell from the stairs, perhaps differs from I will be fighting soon. This or that someone, viz. I utterance may be purely bodily. Grice would think that the idea that his soul fell from the stairs sounds, as it would to Berkeley, harsh. But then theres this or that one may be mixed utterance. Someone, viz. I, plays cricket, where surely your bodily mechanisms require some sort of control by the soul. Finally, this or that may be purely souly ‒ the one Grice ends up analysing, Someone, viz. I, hear that the bell tolls. At the time of his Mind essay, Grice may have been unaware of the complications that the concept of a person may bring as attached in adjective form to identity. Ayer did, and Strawson and Wiggins will, and Grice learns much from Strawson. Since Parfit, this has become a common-place topic for analysis at Oxford. A person as a complexum of a body-soul spatio-temporal continuant substance. Ultimately, Grice finds a theoretical counterpart here. A P may become a human, which Grice understands physiologically. That is not enough. A P must aspire, via meteousis, to become a person. Thus, person becomes a technical term in Grices grand metaphysical scheme of things. Someone, viz. I, hear that the bell is tolls is analysed as  ≡df, or if and only if, a hearing that the bell tolls is a part of a total temporary t_n souly state S₁ which is one in a s. such that any state S_n,  given this or that condition, contains as a part a memory M_n of the experience of hearing that the bell tolls, which is a component in some pre-sequent t₁n item, or contains an experience of hearing that the bell tolls a memory M of which would, given this or that condition, occur as a component in some sub-sequent t₂>t_n item, there being no sub-set of items which is independent of the rest. Grice simplifies the reductive analysans. Someone, viz. I, hears that the bell tolls iff a hearing that the bell tolls is a component in an item of an interlocking s. with emphasis on lock, s. of this or that memorable and memorative total temporary t_n state S₁. Is Grice’s Personal identity ever referred to in the Oxonian philosophical literature? Indeeed. Parfit mentions, which makes it especially memorable and memorative. P. Edwards includes a reference to Grices Mind essay in the entry for Personal identity, as a reference to Grice et al on Met. , is referenced in Edwardss encyclopædia entry for metaphysics. Grice does not attribute privileged access or incorrigibility to I or the first person. He always hastens to add that I can always be substituted, salva veritate (if baffling your addressee A) by someone or other, if not some-body or other, a colloquialism Grice especially detested. Grices agency-based approach requires that. I am rational provided thou art, too. If, by explicitly saying he is a Lockeian, Grice surely does not wish us to see him as trying to be original, or the first to consider this or that problem about I; i.e. someone. Still, Grice is the philosopher who explores most deeply the reductive analysis of I, i.e. someone. Grice needs the reductive analysis because human agency (philosophically, rather than psychologically interpreted) is key for his approach to things. By uttering The bell tolls, U means that someone, viz. himself, hears that the bell tolls, or even, by uttering I, hear, viz. someone hears, that the bell tolls, U means that the experience of a hearing that the bell tolls is a component in a total temporary state which is a member of a s. such that each member would, given certain conditions, contain as an component one memory of an experience which is a component in a pre-sequent member, or contains as a component some experience a memory of which would, given certain conditions, occur as a component in a post-sequent member; there being no sub-set of members which is independent of the rest. Thanks, the addressee might reply. I didnt know that! The reductive bit to Grices analysis needs to be emphasised. For Grice, a person, and consequently, a someone, viz. I utterance, is, simpliciter, a logical construction out of this or that Humeian experience. Whereas in Russell, as Broad notes, a logical construction of this or that philosophical concept, in this case personal identity, or cf. Grices earlier reductive analysis of not, is thought of as an improved, rationally reconstructed conception. Neither Russell nor Broad need maintain that the logical construction preserves the original meaning of the analysandum someone, viz. I, hears that the bell tolls, or I do not hear that the bell tolls ‒ hence their paradox of reductionist analysis. This change of Subjects does not apply to Grice. Grice emphatically intends to be make explicit, if rationally reconstructed (if that is not an improvement) through reductive (if not reductionist) analysis, the concept Grice already claims to have. One particular development to consider is within Grices play group, that of Quinton. Grice and Quinton seem to have been the only two philosophers in Austins play group who showed any interest on someone, viz. I. Or not. The fact that Quinton entitles his thing “The soul” did not help. Note that Woozley was at the time editing Reid on “Identity,” Cf. Duncan-Jones on mans mortality. Note that Quintons immediate trigger is Shoemaker. Grice writes that he is not “merely a series of perceptions,” for he is “conscious of a permanent self, an I who experiences these perceptions and who is now identical with the I who experienced perceptions yesterday.” So, leaving aside that he is using I with the third person verb, but surely this is no use-mention fallacy, it is this puzzle that provoked his thoughts on temporal-relative “=” later on. As Grice notes, Butler argued that consciousness of experience can contribute to identity but not define it. Grice will use Butler in his elaboration of conversational benevolence versus conversational self-interest. Better than Quinton, it is better to consider Flew in Philosophy, 96, on Locke and the problem of personal identity, obviously suggested as a term paper by Grice! Wiggins cites Flew. Flew actually notes that Berkeley saw Lockes problem earlier than Reid, which concerns the transitiveness of =. Recall that Wigginss tutor at Oxford was a tutee by Grice, Ackrill. Refs.: The main references covering identity simpliciter are in “Vacuous Names,” and his joint work on metaphysics with G. Myro. The main references relating to the second group, of personal identity, are his “Mind” essay, an essay on ‘the logical-construction theory of personal identity,’ and a second set of essays on Hume’s quandary, The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

illusion: hallucination is Grice’s topic.Malcolm argues in Dreaming and Skepticism and in his Dreaming that the notion of a dream qua conscious experience that occurs at a definite time and has definite duration during sleep, is unintelligible. This contradicts the views of philosophers like Descartes (and indeed Moore!), who, Malcolm holds, assume that a human being may have a conscious thought and a conscious experience during sleep. Descartes claims that he had been deceived during sleep. Malcolms point is that ordinary language contrasts consciousness and sleep. The claim that one is conscious while one is sleep-walking is stretching the use of the term. Malcolm rejects the alleged counter-examples based on sleepwalking or sleep-talking, e.g. dreaming that one is climbing stairs while one is actually doing so is not a counter-example because, in such a case, the individual is not sound asleep after all. If a person is in any state of consciousness, it logically follows that he is not sound asleep. The concept of dreaming is based on our descriptions of dreams after we have awakened in telling a dream. Thus, to have dreamt that one has a thought during sleep is not to have a thought any more than to have dreamt that one has climbed Everest is to have climbed Everest. Since one cannot have an experience during sleep, one cannot have a mistaken experience during sleep, thereby undermining the sort of scepticism based on the idea that our experience might be wrong because we might be dreaming. Malcolm further argues that a report of a conscious state during sleep is unverifiable. If Grice claims that he and Strawson saw a big-foot in charge of the reserve desk at the Bodleian library, one can verify that this took place by talking to Strawson and gathering forensic evidence from the library. However, there is no way to verify Grices claim that he dreamed that he and Strawson saw a big-foot working at the Bodleian. Grices only basis for his claim that he dreamt this is that Grice says so after he wakes up. How does one distinguish the case where Grice dreamed that he saw a big-foot working at The Bodleian and the case in which he dreamed that he saw a person in a big-foot suit working at the library but, after awakening, mis-remembered that person in a big-foot suit as a big-foot proper? If Grice should admit that he had earlier mis-reported his dream and that he had actually dreamed he saw a person in a big-foot suit at The Bodleian, there is no more independent verification for this new claim than there was for the original one. Thus, there is, for Malcolm, no sense to the idea of mis-remembering ones dreams. Malcolm here applies one of Witters ideas from his private language argument. One would like to say: whatever is going to seem right to me is right. And that only means that here we cannot talk about right. For a similar reason, Malcolm challenges the idea that one can assign a definite duration or time of occurrence to a dream. If Grice claims that he ran the mile in 3.4 minutes, one could verify this in the usual ways. If, however, Grice says he dreamt that he ran the mile in 3.4 minutes, how is one to measure the duration of his dreamt run? If Grice says he was wearing a stopwatch in the dream and clocked his run at 3.4 minutes, how can one know that the dreamt stopwatch is not running at half speed (so that he really dreamt that he ran the mile in 6.8 minutes)? Grice might argue that a dream report does not carry such a conversational implicata. But Malcolm would say that just admits the point. The ordinary criteria one uses for determining temporal duration do not apply to dreamt events. The problem in both these cases (Grice dreaming one saw a bigfoot working at The Bodleian and dreaming that he ran the mile in 3.4 minutes) is that there is no way to verify the truth of these dreamt events — no direct way to access that dreamt inner experience, that mysterious glow of consciousness inside the mind of Grice lying comatose on the couch, in order to determine the facts of the matter. This is because, for Malcolm, there are no facts of the matter apart from the report by the dreamer of the dream upon awakening. Malcolm claims that the empirical evidence does not enable one to decide between the view that a dream experience occurs during sleep and the view that they are generated upon the moment of waking up. Dennett agrees with Malcolm that nothing supports the received view that a dream involves a conscious experience while one is asleep but holds that such issues might be settled empirically. Malcolm also argues against the attempt to provide a physiological mark of the duration of a dream, for example, the view that the dream lasted as long as the rapid eye movements. Malcolm replies that there can only be as much precision in that common concept of dreaming as is provided by the common criterion of dreaming. These scientific researchers are misled by the assumption that the provision for the duration of a dream is already there, only somewhat obscured and in need of being made more precise. However, Malcolm claims, it is not already there (in the ordinary concept of dreaming). These scientific views are making radical conceptual changes in the concept of dreaming, not further explaining our ordinary concept of dreaming. Malcolm admits, however, that it might be natural to adopt such scientific views about REM sleep as a convention. Malcolm points out, however, that if REM sleep is adopted as a criterion for the occurrence of a dream, people would have to be informed upon waking up that they had dreamed or not. As Pears observes, Malcolm does not mean to deny that people have dreams in favour of the view that they only have waking dream-behaviour. Of course it is no misuse of language to speak of remembering a dream. His point is that since the concept of dreaming is so closely tied to our concept of waking report of a dreams, one cannot form a coherent concept of this alleged inner (private) something that occurs with a definite duration during sleep. Malcolm rejects a certain philosophical conception of dreaming, not the ordinary concept of dreaming, which, he holds, is neither a hidden private something nor mere outward behaviour.The account of dreaming by Malcolm has come in for considerable criticism. Some argue that Malcolms claim that occurrences in dreams cannot be verified by others does not require the strict criteria that Malcolm proposes but can be justified by appeal to the simplicity, plausibility, and predictive adequacy of an explanatory system as a whole. Some argue that Malcolms account of the sentence I am awake is inconsistent. A comprehensive programme in considerable detail has been offered for an empirical scientific investigation of dreaming of the sort that Malcolm rejects. Others have proposed various counterexamples and counter arguments against dreaming by Malcolm. Grices emphasis is in Malcolms easy way out with statements to the effect that implicata do or do not operate in dream reports. They do in mine! Grice considers, I may be dreaming in the two essays opening the Part II: Explorations on semantics and metaphysics in WOW. Cf. Urmson on ‘delusion’ in ‘Parentheticals’ as ‘conceptually impossible.’ Refs.: The main reference is Grice’s essay on ‘Dreaming,’ but there are scattered references in his treatment of Descartes, and “The causal theory of perception” (henceforth, “Causal theory”), The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

imperative mode: like Hare, Grice loves an imperative. In this essay, Grice attempts an exploration of the logical form of Kant’s concoction. Grice is especially irritated by the ‘the.’ ‘They speak of Kant’s categorical imperative, when he cared to formulate a few versions of it!” Grice lists them all in Abbott’s version. There are nine of them!  Grice is interested in the conceptual connection of the categorical imperative with the hypothetical or suppositional imperative, in terms of the type of connection between the protasis and the apodosis. Grice spends the full second Carus lecture on the conception of value on this. Grice is aware that the topic is central to Oxonian philosophers such as Hare, a member of Austin’s Play Group, too, who regard the universability of an imperative as a mark of its categoricity, and indeed, moral status. Grice chose some of the Kantian terminology on purpose.Grice would refer to this or that ‘conversational maxim.’A ‘conversational maxim’ contributes to what Grice jocularly refers to as the ‘conversational immanuel.’But there is an admission test.The ‘conversational maxim’ has to be shown that, qua items under an overarching principle of conversational helpfulness, the maxim displays a quality associated with conceptual, formal, and applicational generality. Grice never understood what Kant meant by the categoric imperative. But for Grice, from the acceptability of the the immanuel you can deduce the acceptability of this or that maxim, and from the acceptability of the conversational immanuel, be conversationally helpful, you can deduce the acceptability of this or that convesational maxim. Grice hardly considered Kants approach to the categoric imperative other than via the universability of this or that maxim. This or that conversational maxim, provided by Grice, may be said to be universalisable if and only if it displays what Grice sees as these three types of generality: conceptual, formal, and applicational. He does the same for general maxims of conduct. The results are compiled in a manual of universalisable maxims, the conversational immanuel, an appendix to the general immanuel. The other justification by Kant of the categoric imperative involve an approach other than the genitorial justification, and an invocation of autonomy and freedom. It is the use by Plato of imperative as per categoric imperative that has Grice expanding on modes other than the doxastic, to bring in the buletic, where the categoric imperative resides. Note that in the end Kant DOES formulate the categoric imperative, as Grice notes, as a real imperative, rather than a command, etc. Grice loved Kant, but he loved Kantotle best. In the last Kant lecture, he proposes to define the categorical imperative as a counsel of prudence, with a protasis Let Grice be happy. The derivation involves eight stages! Grice found out that out of his play-group activities with this or that linguistic nuance he had arrived at the principle, or imperative of conversational helpfulness, indeed formulated as an imperative: Make your contribution such as is required, at the stage at which it occurs, by the accepted purpose of the conversation in which you are engaged. He notes that the rationality behind the idea of conversation as rational co-operation does not preclude seeing rationality in conversation as other than cooperation. The fact that he chooses maxim, and explicitly echoes Kant, indicates where Grice is leading! An exploration on Paton on the categorical imperative. Grice had previously explored the logical form of hypothetical or suppositional imperatives in the Kant (and later Locke) lectures, notably in Lecture IV, Further remarks on practical and alethic reasons. Here he considers topics related to Hares tropic-clistic neustic-phrastic quartet. What does it mean to say that a command is conditional? The two successors of Grices post as Tutorial Fellow at St. Johns, Baker Hacker, will tackle the same issue with humour, in Sense and nonsense, published by Blackwell (too irreverent to be published by the Clarendon). Is the logical form of a maxim, .p⊃!q, or !(.p ⊃.q), etc. Kant thought that there is a special sub-class of hypothetical or suppositional  imperative (which he called a counsels of prudence) which is like his class of technical imperative, except in that the end specified in a full specfication of the imperative is the special end of eudæmonia (the agents eudæmonia). For Grice, understanding Kant’s first version of the categorical imperative involves understanding what a maxim is supposed to be. Grice explores at some length four alternative interpretations of an iffy buletic (as opposed to a non-iffy buletic): three formal, one material. The first interpretation is the horseshoe interpretation. A blind logical nose might lead us or be led to the assumption of a link between a buletically iffy utterance and a doxastically iffy utterance. Such a link no doubt exists, but the most obvious version of it is plainly inadequate. At least one other philosopher besides Grice has noticed that If he torments the cat, have him arrested! is unlikely to express an buletically iffy utterance, and that even if one restricts oneself to this or that case in which the protasis specifies a will, we find pairs of examples like If you will to go to Oxford, travel by AA via Richmond! or If you will to go to Cambridge, see a psychiatrist! where it is plain that one is, and the other is not, the expression of a buletically iffy utterance. For fun, Grice does not tell which! A less easily eliminable suggestion, yet one which would still interprets the notion of a buletically iffy utterance in terms of that particular logical form to which if, hypothetical or suppositional  and conditional attach, would be the following. Let us assume that it is established, or conceded, as legitimate to formulate an if utterance in which not only the apodosis is couched in some mode other than the doxastic, as in this or that conditional command. If you see the whites of their eyes, shoot fire! but also the protasis or some part (clause) of them. In which case all of the following might be admissible conditionals. Thus, we might have a doxastic protasis (If the cat is sick, take it to the vet), or a mixed (buletic-cum-doxastic protasis (If you are to take the cat to the vet and theres no cage available, put it on Marthas lap!), and buletic protasis (If you are to take the cat to the vet, put it in a cage!). If this suggestion seems rebarbative, think of this or that quaint if utterance (when it is quaint) as conditionalised versions of this or that therefore-sequence, such as: buletic-cum-doxastic premises (Take the cat to the vet! There isnt a cage. Therefore; Put the cat on Marthas lap!), buletic premise (Take the cat to the vet! Put it in a cage!). And then, maybe, the discomfort is reduced. Grice next considers a second formal interpretation or approach to the buletically iffy/non-iffy utterance. Among if utterances with a buletic apodosis some will have, then, a mixed doxastic-cum buletic protasis (partly doxastic, partly buletic), and some will have a purely doxastic protasis (If the cat is sick, take him to the vet!). Grice proposes a definition of the iffy/non-iffy distinction. A buletically iffy utterance is an iffy utterance the apodosis of which is buletic and the protasis of which is buletic or mixed (buletic-cum-dxastic) or it is an elliptical version of such an iffy utterance. A buletically non-iffy utterance is a buletic utterance which is not iffy or else, if it is iffy, has a purely doxastic protasis. Grice makes three quick comments on this second interpretation. First, re: a real imperative. The structures which are being offered as a way of interpreting an iffy and a non-iffy  imperative do not, as they stand, offer any room for the appearance this or that buletic modality like ought and should which are so prominently visible in the standard examples of those kinds of imperatives. The imperatives suggested by Grice are explicit imperatives. An explicit buletic utterance is Do such-and-such! and not You ought to do such and such or, worse, One ought to do such and such. Grice thinks, however, that one can modify this suggestion to meet the demand for the appearance or occurrence of ought (etc) if such occurrence is needed. Second, it would remain to be decided how close the preferred reading of Grices deviant conditional imperatives would be to the accepted interpretation of standard hypothetical or suppositional imperatives. But even if there were some divergence that might be acceptable if the new interpretation turns out to embody a more precise notion than the standard conception. Then theres the neustical versus tropical protases. There are, Grice thinks, serious doubts of the admissibility of conditionals with a NON-doxastic protasis, which are for Grice connected with the very difficult question whether the doxastic and the buletic modes are co-ordinate or whether the doxastic mode is in some crucial fashion (but not in other) prior (to use Suppess qualification) to the buletic. Grice confesses he does not know the answer to that question. A third formal interpretation links the iffy/non-iffy distinction to the absolute-relative value distinction. An iffy imperatives would be end-relative and might be analogous to an evidence-relative probability. A non-iffy imperatives would not be end-relative. Finally, a fourth Interpretation is not formal, but material. This is close to part of what Kant says on the topic. It is a distinction between an imperative being escapable (iffy), through the absence of a particular will and its not being escapable (non-iffy). If we understand the idea of escabability sufficiently widely, the following imperatives are all escapable, even though their logical form is not in every case the same: Give up popcorn!, To get slim, give up popcorn!, If you will to get slim, give up popcorn! Suppose Grice has no will to get slim. One might say that the first imperative (Give up popcorn!) is escaped, provided giving up popcorn has nothing else to recommend it, by falsifying You should give up popcorn. The second and the third imperatives (To get slim, give up pocorn! and If you will to get slim, give up popcorn!) would not, perhaps, involve falsification but they would, in the circumstances, be inapplicable to Grice – and inapplicability, too, counts, as escape. A non-iffy imperative however, is in no way escapable. Re: the Dynamics of Imperatives in Discourse, Grice then gives three examples which he had discussed in “Aspects,” which concern arguments (or therefore-chains). This we may see as an elucidation to grasp the logical form of buletically iffy utterance (elided by the therefore, which is an if in the metalanguage) in its dynamics in argumentation. We should, Grice suggests, consider not merely imperatives of each sort, together with the range of possible characterisations, but also the possible forms of argument into which_particular_ hypothetical or suppositional imperatives might enter. Consider: Defend the Philosophy Department! If you are to defend the philosophy department, learn to use bows and arrows! Therefore, learn to use bows and arrows! Grice says he is using the dichotomy of original-derived value. In this example, in the first premise, it is not specified whether the will is original or derived, the second premise specifies conducive to (means), and the conclusion would involve a derived will, provided the second premise is doxastically satisfactory. Another example would be: Fight for your country! If you are to fight for your country, join up one of the services! Therefore, join up! Here, the first premise and the conclusion do not specify the protasis. If the conclusion did, it would repeat the second premise. Then theres Increase your holdings in oil shares! If you visit your father, hell give you some oil shares. Therefore, visit your father! This argument (purportedly) transmits value. Let us explore these characterisations by Grice with the aid of Hares distinctions. For Hare in a hypothetical or suppositional imperative, the protasis contains a neustic-cum-tropic. A distinction may be made between this or that hypothetical or suppositional imperative and a term used by Grice in his first interpretation of the hypothetical or suppositional imperative, that of conditional command (If you see the whites of their eyes, shoot fire!). A hypothetical or suppositional imperative can be distinguished from a conditional imperative (If you want to make bread, use yeast! If you see anything suspicious, telephone the police!) by the fact that modus ponens is not valid for it. One may use hypothetical, suppositional or conditional imperative for a buletic utterance which features if, and reserve conditional command for a command which is expressed by an imperative, and which is conditional on the satisfaction of the protasis. Thus, on this view, treating the major premise of an argument as a hypothetical or suppositional imperative turns the therefore-chain invalid. Consider the sequence with the major premise as a hypothetical or suppositional imperative. If you will to make someone mad, give him drug D! You will to make Peter mad; therefore, give Peter drug D! By uttering this hypothetical or suppositional imperative, the utterer tells his addressee A only what means to adopt to achieve a given end in  a way which does not necessarily endorse the adoption of that end, and hence of the means to it. Someone might similarly say, if you will to make someone mad, give him drug D! But, of course, even if you will to do that, you must not try to do so. On the other hand, the following is arguably valid because the major premise is a conditional imperative and not a mere hypothetical or suppositional one. We have a case of major premise as a conditional imperative: You will to make someone mad, give him drug D! Make Peter mad! Therefore, give Peter drug D!. We can explain this in terms of the presence of the neustic in the antecedent of the imperative working as the major premise. The supposition that the protasis of a hypothetical or suppositional imperative contains a clause in the buletic mode neatly explains why the argument with the major premise as a hypothetical or suppositional imperative is not valid. But the argument with the major premise as a conditional imperative is, as well as helping to differentiate a suppositional or hypothetical or suppositional iffy imperative from a conditional iffy imperative. For, if the protasis of the major premise in the hypothetical or suppositional imperative is volitival, the mere fact that you will to make Peter mad does not license the inference of the imperative to give him the drug; but this _can_ be inferred from the major premise of the hypothetical or suppositional imperative together with an imperative, the minor premise in the conditional imperative, to make Peter mad. Whether the subordinate clause contains a neustic thus does have have a consequence as to the validity of inferences into which the complex sentence enters. Then theres an alleged principle of mode constancy in buletic and and doxastic inference. One may tries to elucidate Grices ideas on the logical form of the hypothetical or suppositional imperative proper. His suggestion is, admittedly, rather tentative. But it might be argued, in the spirit of it, that an iffy imperative is of the form ((!p⊃!q) Λ .p)) ∴ !q But this violates a principle of mode constancy. A phrastic must remain in the same mode (within the scope of the same tropic) throughout an argument. A conditional imperative does not violate the principle of Modal Constancy, since it is of the form ((p⊃!q) Λ !p)) ∴ !q The question of the logical form of the hypothetical or suppositional  imperative is too obscure to base much on arguments concerning it. There is an alternative to Grices account of the validity of an argument featuring a conditional imperative.  This is to treat the major premise of a conditional imperative, as some have urged it should be as a doxastic utterance tantamount to In order to make someone mad, you have to give him drug D.  Then an utterer who explicitly conveys or asserts the major premise of a conditional imperative and commands the second premise is in consistency committed to commanding the conclusion. If does not always connect phrastic with phrastic but sometimes connects two expressions consisting of a phrastic and a tropic. Consider: If you walk past the post office, post the letter! The antecedent of this imperative states, it seems, the condition under which the imperative expressed becomes operative, and so can not be construed buletically, since by uttering a buletic utterance, an utterer cannot explicitly convey or assert that a condition obtains. Hence, the protasis ought not be within the scope of the buletic !, and whatever we take to represent the form of the utterance above we must not take !(if p, q) to do so. One way out. On certain interpretation of the isomorphism or æqui-vocality Thesis between Indicative and Imperative Inference the utterance has to be construed as an imperative (in the generic reading)  to make the doxasatic conditional If you will walk past the post office,  you will post the letter satisfactory. Leaving aside issues of the implicature of if, that the utterance can not be so construed  seems to be shown by the fact that the imperative to make the associated doxastically iffy utterance satisfactory is conformed with by one who does not walk past the post office. But it seems strange at best to say that the utterance is conformed with in the same circumstances. This strangeness or bafflingliness, as Grice prefers, is aptly explained away in terms of the implicatum. At Oxford, Dummett is endorsing this idea that a conditional imperative be construed as an imperative to make an indicative if utterance true. Dummett urges to divide conditional imperatives into those whose antecedent is within the power of the addressee, like the utterance in question, and those in which it is not. Consider: If you go out, wear your coat! One may be not so much concerned with how to escape this, as Grice is, but how to conform it. A child may choose not to go out in order to comply with the imperative. For an imperative whose protasis is_not_ within the power of the addressee (If anyone tries to escape, shoot him!) it is indifferent whether we treat it as a conditional imperative or not, so why bother. A small caveat here. If no one tries to escape, the imperative is *not violated*. One might ask, might there not be an important practical difference bewteen saying that an imperative has not been violated and that it has been complied with? Dummett ignores this distinction. One may feel think there is much of a practical difference there. Is Grice an intuitionist? Suppose that you are a frontier guard and the antecedent has remained unfulfilled. Then, whether we say that you complied with it, or simply did not *violate* it will make a great deal of difference if you appear before a war crimes tribunal.  For Dummett, the fact that in the case of an imperative expressed by a conditional imperative in which the antecedent is not within the agents power, we should *not* say that the agent had obeyed just on the ground that the protassi is false, is no ground for construing an imperative as expressing a conditional command: for there is no question of fixing what shall constitute obedience independently of the determination of what shall constitute disobedience. This complicates the issues. One may with Grice (and Hare, and Edgley) defend imperative inference against other Oxonian philosophers, such as Kenny or Williams. What is questioned by the sceptics about imperative inference is whether if each one of a set of imperatives is used with the force of a command, one can infer a _further_ imperative with that force from them. Cf. Wiggins on Aristotle on the practical syllogism. One may be more conservative than Hare, if not Grice. Consider If you stand by Jane, dont look at her! You stand by Jane; therefore, dont look at her! This is valid. However, the following, obtained by anti-logism, is not: If you stand by Jane, dont look at her! Look at her! Therefore, you dont stand by Jane. It may seem more reasonable to some to deny Kants thesis, and maintain that anti-logism is valid in imperative inference than it is to hold onto Kants thesis and deny that antilogism is valid in the case in question. Then theres the question of the implicata involved in the ordering of modes. Consider: Varnish every piece of furniture you make! You are going to make a table; therefore, varnish it! This is prima facie valid. The following, however, switching the order of the modes in the premises is not. You are going to varnish every piece of furniture that you make. Make a table! Therefore; varnish it! The connection between the if and the therefore is metalinguistic, obviously – the validity of the therefore chain is proved by the associated if that takes the premise as, literally, the protasis and the consequence as the apodosis.  Conversational Implicature at the Rescue. Problems with or: Consider Rosss infamous example: Post the letter! Therefore, post the letter or burn it! as invalid, Ross – and endorsed at Oxford by Williams. To permit to do p or q is to permit to do p and to permit to do q. Similarly, to give permission to do something is to lift a prohibition against doing it. Admittedly, Williams does not need this so we are stating his claim more strongly than he does. One may review Grices way out (defense of the validity of the utterance above in terms of the implicatum. Grice claims that in Rosss infamous example (valid, for Grice), whilst (to state it roughly) the premises permissive presupposition (to use the rather clumsy term introduced by Williams) is entailed by it, the conclusions is only conversationally implicated. Typically for an isomorphist, Grice says this is something shared by indicative inferences. If, being absent-minded, Grice asks his wife, What have I done with the letter? And she replies, You have posted it or burnt it, she conversationally implicates that she is not in a position to say which Grice has done. She also conversationally implicates that Grice may not have post it, so long as he has burnt it. Similarly, the future tense indicative, You are going to post the letter has the conversational implicature You may be not going to post the letter so long as you are going to burn it.  But this surely does not validate the introduction rule for OR, to wit:  p; therefore, p or q. One can similarly, say: Eclipse will win. He may not, of course, if it rains. And I *know* it will *not* rain. Problems with and. Consider: Put on your parachute AND jump out! Therefore, jump out! Someone who _only_ jumps out of an æroplane does not fulfil Put on your parachute and jump out!  He has done only what is necessary, but not sufficient to fulfil it.  Imperatives do not differ from indicatives in this respect, except that fulfilment takes the place of belief or doxa, which is the form of acceptance apprpriate to a doxasatic utterance, as the Names implies.  Someone who is told Smith put on his parachute AND jumped out is entitled to believe that Smith jumped out. But if he believes that this is _all_ Smith did he is in error (Cf. Edgley). One may discuss Grices test of cancellability in the case of the transport officer who says: Go via Coldstream or Berwick! It seems the transport officers way of expressing himself is extremely eccentric, or conversationally baffling, as Grice prefers – yet validly. If the transport officer is not sure if a storm may block one of the routes, what he should say is _Prepare_ to go via Coldstream or Berwick! As for the application of Grices test of explicit cancellation here, it yield, in the circumstances, the transport officer uttering Go either via Coldstream or Berwick!  But you may not go via Coldstream if you do not go via Berwick, and you may not go via Berwick if you do not go via Coldstream. Such qualifications  ‒ what Grice calls explicit cancellation of the implicature  ‒ seem to the addressee to empty the buletic mode of utterance of all content and is thus reminiscent of Henry Fords utterance to the effect that people can choose what colour car they like provided it is black. But then Grice doesnt think Ford is being illogical, only Griceian and implicatural! Refs.: There is at least one essay just about the categorical imperative, but there are scattered references wherever Grice considers the mood markers, The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

Implicatum. Wht is implicated may not be the result of any maxim, and yet not conventional – depending on a feature of context. But nothing like a maxim – Strawson Wiggins p. 523.

incorrigibility: On WoW: 142, Grice refers to the ‘authority’ of the utterer as a ‘rational being’ to DEEM that an M-intention is an antecedent condition for his act of meaning. Grice uses ‘privilege’ as synonym for ‘authority’ here. But not in the phrase ‘privileged access.’ His point is not so much about the TRUTH (which ‘incorrigibility’ suggests), but about the DEEMING. It is part of the authority or privilege of the utterer as rational to provide an ACCEPTABLE assignment of an M-intention behind his utterance.

inscriptum -- inscriptionalism -- nominalism. While Grice pours scorn on the American School of Latter-Day  Nominalists, nominalism, as used by Grice is possibly a misnomer. He doesn’t mean Occam, and Occam did not use ‘nominalismus.’ “Terminimus’ at most. So one has to be careful. The implicature is that the nominalist calls a ‘name’ what others shouldn’t.  Mind, Grice had two nominalist friends: S. N. Hamphsire (Scepticism and meaning”) and A. M. Quinton, of the play group! In “Properties and classes,” for the Aristotelian Society. And the best Oxford philosophical stylist, Bradley, is also a nominalist. There are other, more specific arguments against universals. One is that postulating such things leads to a vicious infinite regress. For suppose there are universals, both monadic and relational, and that when an entity instantiates a universal, or a group of entities instantiate a relational universal, they are linked by an instantiation relation. Suppose now that a instantiates the universal F. Since there are many things that instantiate many universals, it is plausible to suppose that instantiation is a relational universal. But if instantiation is a relational universal, when a instantiates F, a, F and the instantiation relation are linked by an instantiation relation. Call this instantiation relation i₂ (and suppose it, as is plausible, to be distinct from the instantiation relation (i₁) that links a and F). Then since i₂ is also a universal, it looks as if a, F, i₁ and i₂ will have to be linked by another instantiation relation i₃, and so on ad infinitum. (This argument has its source in Bradley 1893, 27–8.)

insinuation insinuate

intensionalism: Grice finds a way to relieve a predicate that is vacuous from the embarrassing consequence of denoting or being satisfied by the empty set. Grice exploits the nonvoidness of a predicate which is part of the definition of the void predicate. Consider the vacuous predicate:‘... is married to a daughter of an English queen and a pope.'The class '... is a daugther of an English queen and a pope.'is co-extensive with the predicate '... stands in relation  to a sequence composed of the class married to, daughters, English queens, and popes.'We correlate the void predicate with the sequence composed of relation R, the set ‘married to,’ the set ‘daughters,’ the set ‘English queens,’ and the set ‘popes.'Grice uses this sequence, rather than the empty set, to determine the explanatory potentiality of a void predicate. The admissibility of a nonvoid predicate in an explanation of a possible phenomenon (why it would happen if it did happen) may depends on the availability of a generalisation whithin which the predicate specifies the antecedent condition. A non-trivial generalisations of this sort is certainly available if derivable from some further generalisation involving a less specific antecedent condition, supported by an antecedent condition that is specified by means a nonvoid predicate. 

intentionalism: when Anscombe comes out with her “Intention,” Grice’s Play Group does not know what to do. Hampshire is almost finished with his “Thought and action” that came out the following year. Grice is lecturing on how a “dispositional” reductive analysis of ‘intention’ falls short of his favoured instrospectionalism. Had he not fallen for an intention-based semantics (or strictly, an analysis of "U means that p" in terms of U intends that p"), Grice would be obsessed with an analysis of ‘intending that …’ James makes an observation about the that-clause. I will that the distant table slides over the floor toward me. It does not. The Anscombe Society. Irish-born Anscombe’s views are often discussed by Oxonian philosophers. She brings Witters to the Dreaming Spires, as it were. Grice is especially connected with Anscombes reflections on intention. While he favoures an approach such as that of Hampshire in Thought and Action, Grice borrows a few points from Anscombe, notably that of direction of fit, originally Austin’s. Grice explicitly refers to Anscombe in “Uncertainty,” and in his reminiscences he hastens to add that Anscombe would never attend any of the Saturday mornings of the play group, as neither does Dummett. The view of Ryle is standardly characterised as a weaker or softer version of behaviourism According to this standard interpretation, the view by Ryle is that a statements containin this or that term relating to the ‘soul’ can be translated, without loss of meaning, into an ‘if’ utterance about what an agent does. So Ryle, on this account, is to be construed as offering a dispositional analysis of a statement about the soul into a statement about behaviour. It is conceded that Ryle does not confine a description of what the agent does to purely physical behaviour—in terms, e. g. of a skeletal or a muscular description. Ryle is happy to speak of a full-bodied action like scoring a goal or paying a debt. But the soft behaviourism attributed to Ryle still attempts an analysis or translation of statement about the soul into this or that dispositional statement which is itself construed as subjunctive if describing what the agent does. Even this soft behaviourism fails. A description of the soul is not analysable or translatable into a statement about behaviour or praxis even if this is allowed to include a non-physical descriptions of action. The list of conditions and possible behaviour is infinite since any one proffered translation may be ‘defeated,’ as Hart and Hall would say, by a slight alteration of the circumstances. The defeating condition in any particular case may involve a reference to a fact about the agent’s soul, thereby rendering the analysis circular. In sum, the standard interpretation of Ryle construes him as offering a somewhat weakened form of reductive behaviourism whose reductivist ambition, however weakened, is nonetheless futile. This characterisation of Ryle’s programme is wrong. Although it is true that he is keen to point out the disposition behind this or that concept about the soul, it would be wrong to construe Ryle as offering a programme of analysis of a ‘soul’ predicate in terms of an ‘if’ utterance. The relationship between a ‘soul’ predicate and the ‘if’ utterance with which he unpack it is other than that required by this kind of analysis. It is helpful to keep in mind that Ryle’s target is the official doctrine with its eschatological commitment. Ryle’s argument serves to remind one that we have in a large number of cases ways of telling or settling disputes, e. g., about someone’s character or intellect. If A disputes a characterisation of Smith as willing that p, or judging that p, B may point to what Smith says and does in defending the attribution, as well as to features of the circumstances. But the practice of giving a reason of this kind to defend or to challenge an ascription of a ‘soul’ predicates would be put under substantial pressure if the official doctrine is correct. For Ryle to remind us that we do, as a matter of fact, have a way of settling disputes about whether Smith wills that he eat an apple is much weaker than saying that the concept of willing is meaningless unless it is observable or verifiable; or even that the successful application of a soul predicate requires that we have a way of settling a dispute in every case. Showing that a concept is one for which, in a large number of cases, we have an agreement-reaching procedure, even if it do not always guarantee success, captures an important point, however: it counts against any theory of, e. g., willing that would render it unknowable in principle or in practice whether or not the concept is correctly applied in every case. And this is precisely the problem with the official doctrine (and is still a problem, with some of its progeny. Ryle points out that there is a form of dilemma that pits the reductionist against the dualist: those whose battle-cry is ‘nothing but…’ and those who insist on ‘something else as well.’ Ryle attempts a dissolution of the dilemma by rejecting the two horns; not by taking sides with either one, though part of what dissolution requires in this case, as in others, is a description of how each side is to be commended for seeing what the other side does not, and criticised for failing to see what the other side does. The attraction of behaviourism, Ryle reminds us, is simply that it does not insist on an occult happening as the basis upon which a ‘soul’ term is given meaning, and points to a perfectly observable criterion that is by and large employed when we are called upon to defend or correct our employment of a ‘soul’ term. The problem with behaviourism is that it has a too-narrow view both of what counts as behaviour and of what counts as observable. Then comes Grice to play with meaning and intending, and allowing for deeming an avowal of this or that souly state as, in some fashion, incorrigible. For Grice, while U does have, ceteris paribus privileged access to each state of his soul, only his or that avowal of this or that souly state is deemed incorrigible. This concerns communication as involving intending. Grice goes back to this at Brighton. He plays with G judges that it is raining, G judges that G judges that it is raining. Again, Grice uses a subscript: “G judges₂ that it is raining.” If now G expresses that it is raining, G judges₂ that it is raining. A second-order avowal is deemed incorrigible. It is not surprising the the contemporary progeny of the official doctrine sees a behaviourist in Grice. Yet a dualist is badly off the mark in his critique of Grice. While Grice does appeal to a practice and a habif, and even the more technical ‘procedure’ in the ordinary way as ‘procedure’ is used in ordinary discussion. Grice does not make a technical concept out of them as one expect of some behavioural psychologist, which he is not. He is at most a philosophical psychologist, and a functionalist one, rather than a reductionist one. There is nothing in any way that is ‘behaviourist’ or reductionist or physicalist about Grice’s talk. It is just ordinary talk about behaviour. There is nothing exceptional in talking about a practice, a customs, or a habit regarding communication. Grice certainly does not intend that this or that notion, as he uses it, gives anything like a detailed account of the creative open-endedness of a communication-system. What this or that anti-Griceian has to say IS essentially a diatribe first against empiricism (alla Quine), secondarily against a Ryle-type of behaviourism, and in the third place, Grice. In more reasoned and dispassionate terms, one would hardly think of Grice as a behaviourist (he in fact rejects such a label in “Method”), but as an intentionalist. When we call Grice an intentionalist, we are being serious. As a modista, Grice’s keyword is intentionalism, as per the good old scholastic ‘intentio.’ We hope so. This is Aunt Matilda’s conversational knack. Grice keeps a useful correspondence with Suppes which was helpful. Suppes takes Chomsky more seriously than an Oxonian philosopher would. An Oxonian philosopher never takes Chomsky too seriously. Granted, Austin loves to quote “Syntactic Structures” sentence by sentence for fun, knowing that it would never count as tutorial material. Surely “Syntactic Structures” would not be a pamphlet a member of the play group would use to educate his tutee. It is amusing that when he gives the Locke lectures, Chomsky cannot not think of anything better to do but to criticise Grice, and citing him from just one reprint in the collection edited by, of all people, Searle. Some gratitude. The references are very specific to Grice. Grice feels he needs to provide, he thinks, an analysis ‘mean’ as metabolically applied to an expression. Why? Because of the implicatum. By uttering x (thereby explicitly conveying that p), U implicitly conveys that q iff U relies on some procedure in his and A’s repertoire of procedures of U’s and A’s communication-system. It is this talk of U’s being ‘ready,’ and ‘having a procedure in his repertoire’ that sounds to New-World Chomsky too Morrisian, as it does not to an Oxonian. Suppes, a New-Worlder, puts himself in Old-Worlder Grice’s shoes about this. Chomsky should never mind. When an Oxonian philosopher, not a psychologist, uses ‘procedure’ and ‘readiness,’ and having a procedure in a repertoire, he is being Oxonian and not to be taken seriously, appealing to ordinary language, and so on. Chomsky apparently does get it. Incidentally, Suppess has defended Grice against two other targets, less influential. One is Hungarian-born J. I. Biro, who does not distinguish between reductive analysis and reductionist analysis, as Grice does in his response to Somervillian Rountree-Jack. The other target is perhaps even less influential: P. Yu in a rather simplistic survey of the Griceian programme for a journal that Grice finds too specialized to count, “Linguistics and Philosophy.” Grice is always ashamed and avoided of being described as “our man in the philosophy of language.” Something that could only have happened in the Old World in a red-brick university, as Grice calls it.  Suppes contributes to PGRICE with an excellent ‘The primacy of utterers meaning,’ where he addresses what he rightly sees as an unfair characterisations of Grice as a behaviourist. Suppes’s use of “primacy” is genial, since its metabole which is all about. Biro actually responds to Suppes’s commentary on Grice as proposing a reductive but not reductionist analysis of meaning. Suppes rightly characterises Grice as an Oxonian ‘intentionalist’ (alla Ogden), as one would characterize Hampshire, with philosophical empiricist, and slightly idealist, or better ideationalist, tendencies, rather. Suppes rightly observes that Grice’ use of such jargon is meant to impress. Surely there are more casual ways of referring to this or that utterer having a basic procedure in his repertoire. It is informal and colloquial, enough, though, rather than behaviouristically, as Ryle would have it. Grice is very happy that in the New World Suppes teaches him how to use ‘primacy’ with a straight face! Intentionalism is also all the vogue in Collingwood reading Croce, and Gardiner reading Marty via Ogden, and relates to expression. In his analysis of intending Grice is being very Oxonian, and pre-Austinian: relying, just to tease leader Austin, on Stout, Wilson, Bosanquet, MacMurray, and Pritchard. Refs.: There are two sets of essays. An early one on ‘disposition and intention,’ and the essay for The British Academy (henceforth, BA). Also his reply to Anscombe and his reply to Davidson. There is an essay on the subjective condition on intention. Obviously, his account of communication has been labeled the ‘intention-based semantic’ programme, so references under ‘communication’ above are useful. BANC.

izzing: under ‘conjunctum,’ we see that there is an alternative vocabulary, of ‘copulatum.’ But Grice prefers to narrow the use of ‘copula’ to izzing’ and ‘hazzing.’ Oddly, Grice sees izzing as a ‘predicate,’ and symbolises it as Ixy. While he prefers ‘x izzes y,’ he also uses ‘x izz y.’

linguistic botany: Grice was a meta-linguistic botanist. His point was to criticise ordinary-language philosophers criticising philosophers. Say: Plato and Ayer say that episteme is a kind of doxa. The contemporary, if dated, ordinary-language philosopher detects a nuance, and embarks risking collision with the conversational facts or data: rushes ahead to exploit the nuance without clarifying it, with wrong dicta like: What I known to be the case I dont believe to be the case. Surely, a cancellable implicatum generated by the rational principle of conversational helpfulness is all there is to the nuance. Grice knew that unlike the ordinary-language philosopher, he was not providing a taxonomy or description, but a theoretical explanation. To not all philosophers analysis fits them to a T. It did to Grice. It did not even fit Strawson. Grice had a natural talent for analysis. He could not see philosophy as other than conceptual analysis. “No more, no less.” Obviously, there is an evaluative side to the claim that the province of philosophy is to be identified with conceptual analysis. Listen to a theoretical physicist, and hell keep talking about concepts, and even analysing them! The man in the street may not! So Grice finds himself fighting with at least three enemies: the man in the street (and trying to reconcile with him:  What I do is to help you), the scientists (My conceptual analysis is meta-conceptual), and synthetic philosophers who disagree with Grice that analysis plays a key role in philosophical methodology. Grice sees this as an update to his post-war Oxford philosophy. But we have to remember that back when he read that paper, post-war Oxford philosophy, was just around the corner and very fashionable. By the time he composed the piece on conceptual analysis as overlapping with the province of philosophy, he was aware that, in The New World, anaytic had become, thanks to Quine, a bit of an abusive term, and that Grices natural talent for linguistic botanising (at which post-war Oxford philosophy excelled) was not something he could trust to encounter outside Oxford, and his Play Group! Since his Negation and Personal identity Grice is concerned with reductive analysis. How many angels can dance on a needles point? A needless point? This is Grices update to his Post-war Oxford philosophy. More generally concerned with the province of philosophy in general and conceptual analysis beyond ordinary language. It can become pretty technical. Note the Roman overtone of province. Grice is implicating that the other province is perhaps science, even folk science, and the claims and ta legomena of the man in the street. He also likes to play with the idea that a conceptual enquiry need not be philosophical. Witness the very opening to Logic and conversation, Prolegomena. Surely not all inquiries need be philosophical. In fact, a claim to infame of Grice at the Play Group is having once raised the infamous, most subtle, question: what is it that makes a conceptual enquiry philosophically interesting or important? As a result, Austin and his kindergarten spend three weeks analysing the distinct inappropriate implicata of adverbial collocations of intensifiers like highly depressed, versus very depressed, or very red, but not highly red, to no avail. Actually the logical form of very is pretty complicated, and Grice seems to minimise the point. Grices moralising implicature, by retelling the story, is that he has since realised (as he hoped Austin knew) that there is no way he or any philosopher can dictate to any other philosopher, or himself, what is it that makes a conceptual enquiry philosophically interesting or important. Whether it is fun is all that matters. Refs.: The main references are meta-philosophical, i. e. Grice talking about linguistic botany, rather than practicing it. “Reply to Richards,” and the references under “Oxonianism” below are helpful. For actual practice, under ‘rationality.’ There is a specific essay on linguistic botanising, too. The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

lit. hum. While Grice would take tutees under different curricula, he preferred Lit. Hum. So how much philosophy did this include. Plato, Aristotle, Locke, Kant, and Mill. And that was mainly it. We are referring to the ‘philosophy’ component. Ayer used to say that he would rather have been a judge. But at Oxford of that generation, having a Lit. Hum. perfectly qualified you as a philosopher. And people like Ayer, who would rather be a juddge, end up being a philosopher after going through the Lit. Hum. Grice himself comes as a “Midlands scholarship boy” straight from Clifton on a classics scholarship, and being from the Midlands, straight to Corpus. The fact that he got on so well with Hardie helped. The fact that his interim at Merton worked was good. The fact that the thing at Rossall did NOT work was good. The fact that he becamse a fellow at St. John’s OBVIOUSLY helped. The fact that he had Strawson as a tutee ALSO helped helped. H. P. Grice, Literae Humaniores (Philosophy), Oxon.

logical form: If you can’t put it in symbols, it’s not worth saying. Oh, no, if you can put it in symbols, it’s not worth saying. Grice loved the adage, “quod per litteras demonstrare volumus, universaliter demonstramus.”

low-subjective contraster: in WoW: 140, Grice distinguishes between a subjective contraster (such as “The pillar box seems red,” “I see that the pillar box is red,” “I believe that the pillar box is red” and “I know that the pillar box is red”) and an objective contraster (“The pillar box is red.”) Within these subjective contraster, Grice proposes a sub-division between nonfactive (“low-subjective”) and (“high-subjective”). Low-subjective contrasters are “The pillar box seems red” and “I believe that the pillar box is red,” which do NOT entail the corresponding objective contraster. The high-subjective contraster, being factive or transparent, does. The entailment in the case of the high-subjective contraster is explained via truth-coniditions: “A sees that the pillar box is red” and “A knows that the pillar box is red” are analysed ‘iff’ the respective low-subjective contraster obtains (“The pillar box seems red,” and “A believes that the pillar box is red”), the corresponding objective contraster also obtains (“The pillar box is red”), and a third condition specifying the objective contraster being the CAUSE of the low-subjective contraster. Grice repeats his account of suprasegmental. Whereas in “Further notes about logic and conversation,” he had focused on the accent on the high-subjective contraster (“I KNOW”), he now focuses his attention on the accent on the low subjective contraster. “I BELIEVE that the pillar box is red.” It is the accented version that gives rise to the implicatum, generated by the utterer’s intention that the addressee’s will perceive some restraint or guardedness on the part of the utterer of ‘going all the way’ to utter a claim to  ‘seeing’ or ‘knowing’, the high-subjective contraster, but stopping short at the low-subjective contraster.

martian conversational implicatum: Grice converses with a Martian. About Martian x-s that the pillar box is red. (upper x-ing organ) Martian y-s that the pillar box is red. (lower y-ing organ). Grice: Is x-ing that the pillar box is red LIKE y-ing that the pillar-box is red? Martian: Oh, no; there's all the difference in the world! Analogy x smells sweet. x tastes sweet. Martian x-s the the pillar box is red-x. Martian y-s that the pillar box is red-y. Martian x-s the pillar box is medium red. Martian y-s the pillar box is light red.

maximum: Grice uses ‘maximum’ variously. “Maximally effective exchange of information.” Maximum is used in decision theory and in value theory. Cfr. Kasher on maximin. “Maximally effective exchange of information” (WOW: 28) is the exact phrase Grice uses, allowing it should be generalised. He repeats the idea in “Epilogue.” Things did not change.

mentatum: If perhaps Grice was unhappy about the artificial flavour to saying that a word is a sign, Grice surely should have checked with all the Grecian-Roman cognates of mean, as in his favourite memorative-memorable distinction, and the many Grecian realisations, or with Old Roman mentire and mentare. Lewis and Short have “mentĭor,” f. mentire, L and S note, is prob. from root men-, whence mens and memini, q. v. The original meaning, they say, is to invent,  hence, but alla Umberto Eco with sign, mentire comes to mean in later use what Grice (if not the Grecians) holds is the opposite of mean. Short and Lewis render mentire as to lie, cheat, deceive, etc., to pretend, to declare falsely: mentior nisi or si mentior, a form of asseveration, I am a liar, if, etc.: But also, animistically (modest mentalism?) of things, as endowed with a mind. L and S go on: to deceive, impose upon, to deceive ones self, mistake, to lie or speak falsely about, to assert falsely, make a false promise about; to feign, counterfeit, imitate a shape, nature, etc.: to devise a falsehood,  to assume falsely,  to promise falsely, to invent, feign, of a poetical fiction: “ita mentitur (sc. Homerus),  Trop., of inanim. grammatical Subjects, as in Semel fac illud, mentitur tua quod subinde tussis, Do what your cough keeps falsely promising, i. e. die, Mart. 5, 39, 6. Do what your cough means! =imp. die!; hence, mentĭens,  a fallacy, sophism: quomodo mentientem, quem ψευδόμενον vocant, dissolvas;” mentītus, imitated, counterfeit, feigned (poet.): “mentita tela;” For “mentior,” indeed, there is a Griceian implicatum involving rational control. The rendition of mentire as to lie stems from a figurative shift from to be mindful, or inventive, to have second thoughts" to "to lie, conjure up". But Grice would also have a look at cognate “memini,” since this is also cognate with “mind,” “mens,” and covers subtler instances of mean, as in Latinate, “mention,” as in Grices “use-mention” distinction. mĕmĭni, cognate with "mean" and German "meinen," to think = Grecian ὑπομένειν, await (cf. Schiffer, "remnants of meaning," if I think, I hesitate, and therefore re-main, cf. Grecian μεν- in μένω, Μέντωρ; μαν- in μαίνομαι, μάντις; μνᾶ- in μιμνήσκω, etc.; cf.: maneo, or manere, as in remain. The idea, as Schiffer well knows or means, being that if you think, you hesitate, and therefore, wait and remain], moneo, reminiscor [cf. reminiscence], mens, Minerva, etc. which L and S render as “to remember, recollect, to think of, be mindful of a thing; not to have forgotten a person or thing, to bear in mind (syn.: reminiscor, recordor).” Surely with a relative clause, and to make mention of, to mention a thing, either in speaking or writing (rare but class.). Hence. mĕmĭnens, mindful And then Grice would have a look at moneo, as in adMONish, also cognate is “mŏnĕo,” monere, causative from the root "men;" whence memini, q. v., mens (mind), mentio (mention); lit. to cause to think, to re-mind, put in mind of, bring to ones recollection; to admonish, advise, warn, instruct, teach (syn.: hortor, suadeo, doceo). L and S are Griceian if not Grecian when they note that ‘monere’ can be used "without the accessory notion [implicatum or entanglement, that is] of reminding or admonishing, in gen., to teach, instruct, tell, inform, point out; also, to announce, predict, foretell, even if also to punish, chastise (only in Tacitus): “puerili verbere moneri.” And surely, since he loved to re-minisced, Grice would have allowed to just earlier on just minisced. Short and Lewis indeed have rĕmĭniscor, which, as they point out, features the root men; whence mens, memini; and which they compare to comminiscere, v. comminiscor, to recall to mind, recollect, remember (syn. recordor), often used by the Old Romans  with with Grices beloved that-clause, for sure. For what is the good of reminiscing or comminiscing, if you cannot reminisce that Austin always reminded Grice that skipping the dictionary was his big mistake! If Grice uses mention, cognate with mean, he loved commenting Aristotle. And commentare is, again, cognate with mean. As opposed to the development of the root in Grecian, or English, in Roman the root for mens is quite represented in many Latinate cognates. But a Roman, if not a Grecian, would perhaps be puzzled by a Grice claiming, by intuition, to retrieve the necessary and sufficient conditions for the use of this or that expression. When the Roman is told that the Griceian did it for fun, he understands, and joins in the fun! Indeed, hardly a natural kind in the architecture of the world, but one that fascinated Grice and the Grecian philosophers before him! Communication.

meta-ethics: For Grice it is complicated, since there is an ethical or practical side even to an eschatological argument. Grice’s views on ethics are Oxonian. At Oxford, meta-ethics is a generational thing: there’s Grice, and the palaeo-Gricieans, and the post-Gricieans. There’s Hampshire, and Hare, and Nowell-Smith, and Warnock. P. H. Nowell Smith felt overwhelmed by Grice’s cleverness and they would hardly engage in meta-ethical questions. But Nowell Smith felt that Grice was ‘too clever.’ Grice objected Hare’s use of descriptivism and Strawsons use of definite descriptor. Grice preferred to say “the the.”. “Surely Hare is wrong when sticking with his anti-descriptivist diatribe. Even his dictum is descriptive!” Grice was amused that it all started with Abbott BEFORE 1879, since Abbott’s first attempt was entitled, “Kant’s theory of ethics, or practical philosophy” (1873). ”! Grices explorations on morals are language based. With a substantial knowledge of the classical languages (that are so good at verb systems and modes like the optative, that English lacks), Grice explores modals like should, (Hampshire) ought to (Hare) and, must (Grice ‒ necessity). Grice is well aware of Hares reflections on the neustic qualifications on the phrastic. The imperative has usually been one source for the philosophers concern with the language of morals. Grice attempts to balance this with a similar exploration on good, now regarded as the value-paradeigmatic notion par excellence. We cannot understand, to echo Strawson, the concept of a person unless we understand the concept of a good person, i.e. the philosopher’s conception of a good person.   Morals is very Oxonian. There were in Grices time only three chairs of philosophy at Oxford: the three W: the Waynflete chair of metaphysical philosophy, the Wykeham chair of logic (not philosophy, really), and the White chair of moral philosophy. Later, the Wilde chair of philosophical psychology was created. Grice was familiar with Austin’s cavalier attitude to morals as Whites professor of moral philosophy, succeeding Kneale. When Hare succeeds Austin, Grice knows that it is time to play with the neustic implicatum! Grices approach to morals is very meta-ethical and starts with a fastidious (to use Blackburns characterisation, not mine!) exploration of modes related to propositional phrases involving should, ought to, and must. For Hampshire, should is the moral word par excellence. For Hare, it is ought. For Grice, it is only must that preserves that sort of necessity that, as a Kantian rationalist, he is looking for. However, Grice hastens to add that whatever hell say about the buletic, practical or boulomaic must must also apply to the doxastic must, as in What goes up must come down. That he did not hesitate to use necessity operators is clear from his axiomatic treatment, undertaken with Code, on Aristotelian categories of izzing and hazzing. To understand Grices view on ethics, we should return to the idea of creature construction in more detail. Suppose we are genitors-demigods-designing living creatures, creatures Grice calls Ps. To design a type of P is to specify a diagram and table for that type plus evaluative procedures, if any. The design is implemented in animal stuff-flesh and bones typically. Let us focus on one type of P-a very sophisticated type that Grice, borrowing from Locke, calls very intelligent rational Ps. Let me be a little more explicit, and a great deal more speculative, about the possible relation to ethics of my programme for philosophical psychology. I shall suppose that the genitorial programme has been realized to the point at which we have designed a class of Ps which, nearly following Locke, I might call very intelligent rational Ps. These Ps will be capable of putting themselves in the genitorial position, of asking how, if they were constructing themselves with a view to their own survival, they would execute this task; and, if we have done our work aright, their answer will be the same as ours . We might, indeed, envisage the contents of a highly general practical manual, which these Ps would be in a position to compile. The contents of the initial manual would have various kinds of generality which are connected with familiar discussions of universalizability. The Ps have, so far, been endowed only with the characteristics which belong to the genitorial justified psychological theory; so the manual will have to be formulated in terms of that theory, together with the concepts involved in the very general description of livingconditions which have been used to set up that theory; the manual will therefore have conceptual generality. There will be no way of singling out a special subclass of addressees, so the injunctions of the manual will have to be addressed, indifferently, to any very intelligent rational P, and will thus have generality of form. And since the manual can be thought of as being composed by each of the so far indistinguishable Ps, no P would include in the manual injunctions prescribing a certain line of conduct in circumstances to which he was not likely to be Subjects; nor indeed could he do so even if he would. So the circumstances for which conduct is prescribed could be presumed to be such as to be satisfied, from time to time, by any addressee; the manual, then, will have generality of application. Such a manual might, perhaps, without ineptitude be called an immanuel; and the very intelligent rational Ps, each of whom both composes it and from time to time heeds it, might indeed be ourselves (in our better moments, of course). Refs.: Most of Grice’s theorizing on ethics counts as ‘meta-ethic,’ especially in connection with R. M. Hare, but also with less prescriptivist Oxonian philosophers such as Nowell-Smith, with his bestseller for Penguin, Austin, Warnock, and Hampshire. Keywords then are ‘ethic,’ and ‘moral.’ There are many essays on both Kantotle, i.e. on Aristotle and Kant. The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

mode: The category of mode translates ‘tropos,’ modus. Kant wrongly assumed it was Modalitat, which irritated Grice so much that he echoed Kant as saying ‘manner’! Grice is a modista. He sometimes uses ‘modus,’ after Abbott. The earliest record is of course “Meaning.” After elucidating what he calls ‘informative cases,’ he moves to ‘imperative’ ones. Grice agreed with Thomas Urquhart that English needed a few more moods! Grice’s seven modes.Thirteenthly, In lieu of six moods which other languages have at most, this one injoyeth seven in its conjugable words. Ayer had said that non-indicative utterances are hardly significant. Grice had been freely using the very English not Latinate ‘mood’ until Moravcsik, of all people, corrects him: What you mean ain’t a mood. I shall call it mode just to please you, J. M. E. The sergeant is to muster the men at dawn is a perfect imperative. They shall not pass is a perfect intentional. A version of this essay was presented in a conference whose proceedings were published, except for Grices essay, due to technical complications, viz. his idiosyncratic use of idiosyncratic symbology! By mode Grice means indicative or imperative. Following Davidson, Grice attaches probability to the indicative, via the doxastic, and desirability to the indicative, via the buletic-boulomaic.  He also allows for mixed utterances. Probability is qualified with a suboperator indicating a degree d; ditto for desirability, degree d. In some of the drafts, Grice kept using mode until Moravsik suggested to him that mode was a better choice, seeing that Grices modality had little to do with what other authors were referring to as mood. Probability, desirability, and modality, modality, desirability, and probability; modality, probability, desirability. He would use mode operator. Modality is the more correct term, for things like should, ought, and must, in that order. One sense. The doxastic modals are correlated to probability. The buletic or boulomaic modals are correlated to desirability. There is probability to a degree d. But there is also desirability to a degree d.  They both combine in Grices attempt to show how Kants categorical imperative reduces to the hypothetical or suppositional. Kant uses modality in a way that Grice disfavours, preferring modus. Grice is aware of the use by Kant of modality qua category in the reduction by Kant to four of the original ten categories in Aristotle). The Jeffrey-style entitled Probability, desirability, and mode operators finds Grice at his formal-dress best. It predates the Kant lectures and it got into so much detail that Grice had to leave it at that. So abstract it hurts. Going further than Davidson, Grice argues that structures expressing probability and desirability are not merely analogous. They can both be replaced by more complex structures containing a common element. Generalising over attitudes using the symbol ψ, which he had used before, repr. WoW:v, Grice proposes G ψ that p. Further, Grice uses i as a dummy for sub-divisions of psychological attitudes. Grice uses Op supra i sub α, read: operation supra i sub alpha, as Grice was fastidious enough to provide reading versions for these, and where α is a dummy taking the place of either A or B, i. e. Davidsons prima facie or desirably, and probably. In all this, Grice keeps using the primitive !, where a more detailed symbolism would have it correspond exactly to Freges composite turnstile (horizontal stroke of thought and vertical stroke of assertoric force, Urteilstrich) that Grice of course also uses, and for which it is proposed, then: !─p. There are generalising movements here but also merely specificatory ones. α is not generalised. α is a dummy to serve as a blanket for this or that specifications. On the other hand, ψ is indeed generalised. As for i, is it generalising or specificatory? i is a dummy for specifications, so it is not really generalising. But Grice generalises over specifications. Grice wants to find buletic, boulomaic or volitive as he prefers when he does not prefer the Greek root for both his protreptic and exhibitive versions (operator supra exhibitive, autophoric, and operator supra protreptic, or hetero-phoric). Note that Grice (WoW:110) uses the asterisk * as a dummy for either assertoric, i.e., Freges turnstile, and non-assertoric, the !─ the imperative turnstile, if you wish. The operators A are not mode operators; they are such that they represent some degree (d) or measure of acceptability or justification. Grice prefers acceptability because it connects with accepting that which is a psychological, souly attitude, if a general one. Thus, Grice wants to have It is desirable that p and It is believable that p as understood, each, by the concatenation of three elements. The first element is the A-type operator. The second element is the protreptic-type operator. The third element is the phrastic, root, content, or proposition itself. It is desirable that p and It is believable that p share the utterer-oriented-type operator and the neustic or proposition. They only differ at the protreptic-type operator (buletic/volitive/boulomaic or judicative/doxastic). Grice uses + for concatenation, but it is best to use ^, just to echo who knows who. Grice speaks in that mimeo (which he delivers in Texas, and is known as Grices Performadillo talk ‒ Armadillo + Performative) of various things. Grice speaks, transparently enough, of acceptance: V-acceptance and J-acceptance. V not for Victory but for volitional, and J for judicative. The fact that both end with -acceptance would accept you to believe that both are forms of acceptance. Grice irritatingly uses 1 to mean the doxastic, and 2 to mean the bulematic. At Princeton in Method, he defines the doxastic in terms of the buletic and cares to do otherwise, i. e. define the buletic in terms of the doxastic. So whenever he wrote buletic read doxastic, and vice versa. One may omits this arithmetic when reporting on Grices use. Grice uses two further numerals, though: 3 and 4. These, one may decipher – one finds oneself as an archeologist in Tutankamons burial ground, as this or that relexive attitude. Thus, 3, i. e. ψ3, where we need the general operator ψ, not just specificatory dummy, but the idea that we accept something simpliciter. ψ3 stands for the attitude of buletically accepting an or utterance: doxastically accepting that p or doxastically accepting that ~p. Why we should be concerned with ~p is something to consider.  G wants to decide whether to believe p or not. I find that very Griceian. Suppose I am told that there is a volcano in Iceland. Why would I not want to believe it? It seems that one may want to decide whether to believe p or not when p involves a tacit appeal to value. But, as Grice notes, even when it does not involve value, Grice still needs trust and volition to reign supreme. On the other hand, theres 4, as attached to an attitude, ψ4. This stands for an attitude of buletically accepting an or utterance: buletically accepting that p, or G buletically accepting that ~p, i. e. G wants to decide whether to will, now that p or not. This indeed is crucial, since, for Grice, morality, as with Kantotle, does cash in desire, the buletic. Grice smokes. He wills to smoke. But does he will to will to smoke? Possibly yes. Does he will to will to will to smoke? Regardless of what Grice wills, one may claim this holds for a serious imperatives (not Thou shalt not reek, but Thou shalt not kill, say) or for any p if you must (because if you know that p causes cancer (p stands for a proposition involving cigarette) you should know you are killing yourself. But then time also kills, so what gives? So I would submit that, for Kant, the categoric imperative is one which allows for an indefinite chain, not of chain-smokers, but of good-willers. If, for some p, we find that at some stage, the P does not will that he wills that he wills that he wills that, p can not be universalisable. This is proposed in an essay referred to in The Philosophers Index but Marlboro Cigarettes took no notice. One may go on to note Grices obsession on make believe. If I say, I utter expression e because the utterer wants his addressee to believe that the utterer believes that p, there is utterer and addresse, i. e. there are two people here  ‒ or any soul-endowed creature  ‒ for Grices squarrel means things to Grice. It even implicates. It miaows to me while I was in bed. He utters miaow. He means that he is hungry, he means (via implicatum) that he wants a nut (as provided by me). On another occasion he miaowes explicating, The door is closed, and implicating Open it, idiot. On the other hand, an Andy-Capps cartoon read: When budgies get sarcastic Wild-life programmes are repeating One may note that one can want some other person to hold an attitude. Grice uses U or G1 for utterer and A or G2 for addressee. These are merely roles. The important formalism is indeed G1 and G2. G1 is a Griceish utterer-person; G2 is the other person, G1s addressee. Grice dislikes a menage a trois, apparently, for he seldom symbolises a third party, G3. So, G ψ-3-A that p is 1 just in case G ψ2(G ψ1 that p) or G ψ1 that ~p is 1. And here the utterers addressee, G2 features: G1 ψ³ protreptically that p is 1 just in case G buletically accepts ψ² (G buletically accepts ψ² (G doxastically accepts ψ1 that p, or G doxastically accepts ψ1 that ~p))) is 1. Grice seems to be happy with having reached four sets of operators, corresponding to four sets of propositional attitudes, and for which Grice provides the paraphrases. The first set is the doxastic proper. It is what Grice has as doxastic,and which is, strictly, either indicative, of the utterers doxastic, exhibitive state, as it were, or properly informative, if addressed to the addressee A, which is different from U himself, for surely one rarely informs oneself. The second is the buletic proper. What Grice dubs volitive, but sometimes he prefers the Grecian root. This is again either self- or utterer-addressed, or utterer-oriented, or auto-phoric, and it is intentional, or it is other-addressed, or addressee-addressed, or addressee- oriented, or hetero-phoric, and it is imperative, for surely one may not always say to oneself, Dont smoke, idiot!. The third is the doxastic-interrogative, or doxastic-erotetic. One may expand on ? here is minimal compared to the vagaries of what I called the !─ (non-doxastic or buletic turnstile), and which may be symbolised by ?─p, where ?─ stands for the erotetic turnstile. Geachs and Althams erotetic somehow Grice ignores, as he more often uses the Latinate interrogative. Lewis and Short have “interrŏgātĭo,” which they render as “a questioning, inquiry, examination, interrogation;” “sententia per interrogationem, Quint. 8, 5, 5; instare interrogation; testium; insidiosa; litteris inclusæ; verbis obligatio fit ex interrogatione et responsione; as rhet. fig., Quint. 9, 2, 15; 9, 3, 98. B. A syllogism: recte genus hoc interrogationis ignavum ac iners nominatum est, Cic. Fat. 13; Sen. Ep. 87 med. Surely more people know what interrogative means what erotetic means, he would not say ‒ but he would. This attitude comes again in two varieties: self-addressed or utterer-oriented, reflective (Should I go?) or again, addresee-addressed, or addressee-oriented, imperative, as in Should you go?, with a strong hint that the utterer is expecting is addressee to make up his mind in the proceeding, not just inform the utterer. Last but not least, there is the fourth kind, the buletic-cum-erotetic. Here again, there is one varietiy which is reflective, autophoric, as Grice prefers, utterer-addressed, or utterer-oriented, or inquisitive (for which Ill think of a Greek pantomime), or addressee-addressed, or addressee-oriented. Grice regrets that Greek (and Latin, of which he had less ‒ cfr. Shakespeare who had none) fares better in this respect the Oxonian that would please Austen, if not Austin, or Maucalay, and certainly not Urquhart -- his language has twelve parts of speech: each declinable in eleven cases, four numbers, eleven genders (including god, goddess, man, woman, animal, etc.); and conjugable in eleven tenses, seven moods, and four voices.These vocal mannerisms will result in the production of some pretty barbarous English sentences; but we must remember that what I shall be trying to do, in uttering such sentences, will be to represent supposedly underlying structure; if that is ones aim, one can hardly expect that ones speech-forms will be such as to excite the approval of, let us say, Jane Austen or Lord Macaulay. Cf. the quessertive, or quessertion, possibly iterable, that Grice cherished. But then you cant have everything. Where would you put it? Grice: The modal implicatum. Grice sees two different, though connected questions about mode. First, there is the obvious demand for a characterisation, or partial characterisation, of this or that mode as it emerges in this or that conversational move, which is plausible to regard as modes primary habitat) both at the level of the explicatum or the implicatum, for surely an indicative conversational move may be the vehicle of an imperatival implicatum. A second, question is how, and to what extent, the representation of mode (Hares neustic) which is suitable for application to this or that conversational move may be legitimately exported into philosophical psychology, or rather, may be grounded on questions of philosophical psychology, matters of this or that psychological state, stance, or attitude (notably desire and belief, and their species). We need to consider the second question, the philosophico- psychological question, since, if the general rationality operator is to read as something like acceptability, as in U accepts, or A accepts, the appearance of this or that mode within its scope of accepting is proper only if it may properly occur within the scope of a generic psychological verb I accept that . Lewis and Short have “accepto,” “v. freq. a. accipio,” which Short and Lewis render as “to take, receive, accept,” “argentum,” Plaut. Ps. 2, 2, 32; so Quint. 12, 7, 9; Curt. 4, 6, 5; Dig. 34, 1, 9: “jugum,” to submit to, Sil. Ital. 7, 41. But in Plin. 36, 25, 64, the correct read. is coeptavere; v. Sillig. a. h. l. The easiest way Grice finds to expound his ideas on the first question is by reference to a schematic table or diagram (Some have complained that I seldom use a board, but I will today. Grice at this point reiterates his temporary contempt for the use/mention distinction, which which Strawson is obsessed. Perhaps Grices contempt is due to Strawsons obsession. Grices exposition would make the hair stand on end in the soul of a person especially sensitive in this area. And Im talking to you, Sir Peter! (He is on the second row). But Grices guess is that the only historical philosophical mistake properly attributable to use/mention confusion is Russells argument against Frege in On denoting, and that there is virtually always an acceptable way of eliminating disregard of the use-mention distinction in a particular case, though the substitutes are usually lengthy, obscure, and tedious. Grice makes three initial assumptions. He avails himself of two species of acceptance, Namesly, volitive acceptance and judicative acceptance, which he, on occasion, calls respectively willing that p and willing that p.  These are to be thought of as technical or semi-technical, theoretical or semi-theoretical, though each is a state which approximates to what we vulgarly call thinking that p and wanting that p, especially in the way in which we can speak of a beast such as a little squarrel as thinking or wanting something  ‒ a nut, poor darling little thing. Grice here treats each will and judge (and accept) as a primitive. The proper interpretation would be determined by the role of each in a folk-psychological theory (or sequence of folk-psychological theories), of the type the Wilde reader in mental philosophy favours at Oxford, designed to account for the behaviours of members of the animal kingdom, at different levels of psychological complexity (some classes of creatures being more complex than others, of course). As Grice suggests in Us meaning, sentence-meaning, and word-meaning, at least at the point at which (Schema Of Procedure-Specifiers For Mood-Operators) in ones syntactico-semantical theory of Pirotese or Griceish, one is introducing this or that mode (and possibly earlier), the proper form to use is a specifier for this or that resultant procedure. Such a specifier is of the general form, For the utterer U to utter x if C, where the blank is replaced by the appropriate condition. Since in the preceding scheme x represents an utterance or expression, and not a sentence or open sentence, there is no guarantee that this or that actual sentence in Pirotese or Griceish contains a perspicuous and unambiguous modal representation. A sentence may correspond to more than one modal structure. The sentence is structurally ambiguous (multiplex in meaning  ‒ under the proviso that senses are not to be multiplied beyond necessity) and will have more than one reading, or parsing, as every schoolboy at Clifton knows when translating viva voce from Greek or Latin, as the case might be. The general form of a procedure-specifier for a modal operator involves a main clause and an antecedent clause, which follows if. In the schematic representation of the main clause, U represents an utterer, A his addressee, p the radix or neustic; and Opi represents that operator whose number is i (1, 2, 3, or 4), e.g g., Op3A represents Operator 3A, which, since ?⊢ appears in the Operator column for 3A) would be ?A ⊢ p. This reminds one of Grandys quessertions, for he did think they were iterable (possibly)). The antecedent clause consists of a sequence whose elements are a preamble, as it were, or preface, or prefix, a supplement to a differential (which is present only in a B-type, or addressee-oriented case), a differential, and a radix. The preamble, which is always present, is invariant, and reads: The U U wills (that) A A judges (that) U  (For surely meaning is a species of intending is a species of willing that, alla Prichard, Whites professor, Corpus). The supplement, if present, is also invariant. And the idea behind its varying presence or absence is connected, in the first instance, with the volitive mode. The difference between an ordinary expression of intention  ‒ such as I shall not fail, or They shall not pass  ‒  and an ordinary imperative (Like Be a little kinder to him) is accommodated by treating each as a sub-mode of the volitive mode, relates to willing that p) In the intentional case (I shall not fail), the utterer U is concerned to reveal to his addressee A that he (the utterer U) wills that p. In the imperative case (They shall not pass), the utterer U is concerned to reveal to his addressee A that the utterer U wills that the addresee A will that p.  In each case, of course, it is to be presumed that willing that p will have its standard outcome, viz., the actualization, or realisation, or direction of fit, of the radix (from expression to world, downwards). There is a corresponding distinction between two uses of an indicative. The utterer U may be declaring or affirming that p, in an exhibitive way, with the primary intention to get his addressee A to judge that the utterer judges that p. Or the U is telling (in a protreptic way) ones addressee that p, that is to say, hoping to get his addressee to judge that p. In the case of an indicative, unlike that of a volitive, there is no explicit pair of devices which would ordinarily be thought of as sub-mode marker. The recognition of the sub-mode is implicated, and comes from context, from the vocative use of the Names of the addressee, from the presence of a speech-act verb, or from a sentence-adverbial phrase (like for your information, so that you know, etc.). But Grice has already, in his initial assumptions, allowed for such a situation. The exhibitive-protreptic distinction or autophoric-heterophoric distinction, seems to Grice to be also discernible in the interrogative mode (?). Each differentials is associated with, and serve to distinguish, each of the two basic modes (volitive or judicative) and, apart from one detail in the case of the interrogative mode, is invariant between autophoric-exhibitive) and heterophoric-protreptic sub-modes of any of the two basic modes. They are merely unsupplemented or supplemented, the former for an exhibitive sub-mode and the latter for a protreptic sub-mode. The radix needs (one hopes) no further explanation, except that it might be useful to bear in mind that Grice does not stipulated that the radix for an intentional (buletic exhibitive utterer-based) incorporate a reference to the utterer, or be in the first person, nor that the radix for an imperative (buletic protreptic addressee-based) incorporate a reference of the addresee, and be in the second person. They shall not pass is a legitimate intentional, as is You shall not get away with it; and The sergeant is to muster the men at dawn, as uttered said by the captain to the lieutenant) is a perfectly good imperative. Grice gives in full the two specifiers derived from the schema. U to utter to A autophoric-exhibitive ⊢ p if U wills that A judges that U judges p. Again, U to utter to A ! heterophoric-protreptic p if U wills that A A judges that U wills that A wills that p. Since, of the states denoted by each differential, only willing that p and judging that p are strictly cases of accepting that p, and Grices ultimate purpose of his introducing this characterization of mode is to reach a general account of expressions which are to be conjoined, according to his proposal, with an acceptability operator, the first two numbered rows of the figure are (at most) what he has a direct use for. But since it is of some importance to Grice that his treatment of mode should be (and should be thought to be) on the right lines, he adds a partial account of the interrogative mode. There are two varieties of interrogatives, a yes/no interrogatives (e. g. Is his face clean? Is the king of France bald? Is virtue a fire-shovel?) and x-interrogatives, on which Grice qua philosopher was particularly interested, v. his The that and the why.  (Who killed Cock Robin?, Where has my beloved gone?, How did he fix it?). The specifiers derivable from the schema provide only for yes/no interrogatives, though the figure could be quite easily amended so as to yield a restricted but very large class of x-interrogatives. Grice indicates how this could be done. The distinction between a buletic and a doxastic interrogative corresponds with the difference between a case in which the utterer U indicates that he is, in one way or another, concerned to obtain information (Is he at home?), and a case in which the utterer U indicates that he is concerned to settle a problem about what he is to do ‒ Am I to leave the door open?, Shall I go on reading? or, with an heterophoric Subjects, Is the prisoner to be released? This difference is fairly well represented in grammar, and much better represented in the grammars of some other languages. The hetero-phoric-cum-protreptic/auto-phoric-cum- exhibitive difference may not marked at all in this or that grammar, but it should be marked in Pirotese. This or that sub-mode is, however, often quite easily detectable. There is usually a recognizable difference between a case in which the utterer A says, musingly or reflectively, Is he to be trusted?  ‒ a case in which the utterer might say that he is just wondering  ‒ and a case in which he utters a token of the same sentence as an enquiry. Similarly, one can usually tell whether an utterer A who utters Shall I accept the invitation?  is just trying to make up his mind, or is trying to get advice or instruction from his addressee. The employment of the variable α needs to be explained. Grice borrows a little from an obscure branch of logic, once (but maybe no longer) practised, called, Grice thinks, proto-thetic ‒ Why? Because it deals with this or that first principle or axiom, or thesis), the main rite in which is to quantify over, or through, this or that connective. α is to have as its two substituents positively and negatively, which may modify either will or judge, negatively willing or negatively judging that p is judging or willing that ~p. The quantifier (∃1α) . . . has to be treated substitutionally. If, for example, I ask someone whether John killed Cock Robin (protreptic case), I do not want the addressee merely to will that I have a particular logical quality in mind which I believe to apply. I want the addressee to have one of the Qualities in mind which he wants me to believe to apply. To meet this demand, supplementation must drag back the quantifier. To extend the schema so as to provide specifiers for a single x-interrogative (i. e., a question like What did the butler see? rather than a question like Who went where with whom at 4 oclock yesterday afternoon?), we need just a little extra apparatus. We need to be able to superscribe a W in each interrogative operator e.g., together with the proviso that a radix which follows a superscribed operator must be an open radix, which contains one or more occurrences of just one free variable. And we need a chameleon variable λ, to occur only in this or that quantifier. (∃λ).Fx is to be regarded as a way of writing (∃x)Fx. (∃λ)Fy is a way of writing (∃y)Fy. To provide a specifier for a x-superscribed operator, we simply delete the appearances of α in the specifier for the corresponding un-superscribed operator, inserting instead the quantifier (∃1λ) () at the position previously occupied by (∃1α) (). E.g. the specifiers for Who killed Cock Robin?, used as an enquiry, would be: U to utter to A  killed Cock Robin if U wills A to judge U to will that (∃1λ) (A should will that U judges (x killed Cock Robin)); in which (∃1λ) takes on the shape (∃1x) since x is the free variable within its scope. Grice compares his buletic-doxastic distinction to prohairesis/doxa distinction by Aristotle in Ethica Nichomachea. Perhaps his simplest formalisation is via subscripts: I will-b but will-d not. Refs.: The main references are given above under ‘desirability.’ The most systematic treatment is the excursus in “Aspects,” Clarendon. BANC.

modified Occam’s razor: Grice loved a razor, and being into analogy and focal meaning, if he HAD to have semantic multiplicity, for the case of ‘is,’ (being) or ‘good,’ it had to be a UNIFIED semantic multiplicity, as displayed by paronymy. The essay had circulated since the Harvard days, and it was also repr. in Pragmatics, ed. Cole for Academic Press. Personally, I prefer dialectica.  ‒ Grice. This is the third James lecture at Harvard. It is particularly useful for Grices introduction of his razor, M. O. R., or Modified Occams Razor, jocularly expressed by Grice as: Senses are not to be multiplied beyond necessity. An Englishing of the Ockhams Latinate, Entia non sunt multiplicanda præter necessitatem. But what do we mean sense. Surely Occam was right with his Entia non sunt multiplicanda præter necessitatem. We need to translate that alla linguistic turn. Grice jokes: Senses are not be multiplied beyond necessity. He also considers irony, stress (supra-segmental fourth-articulatory phonology), and truth, which the Grice Papers have under a special f. in the s. V . Three topics where the implicatum helps. He is a scoundrel may well be the implicatum of He is a fine friend. But cf. the pretense theory of irony. Grice, being a classicist, loved the etymological connection. With Stress, he was concerned with anti-Gettier uses of emphatic know: I KNOW. (Implicatum: I do have conclusive evidence). Truth (or  is true) sprang from the attention by Grice to that infamous Bristol symposium between Austin and Strawson. Cf. Moores paradox. Grice wants to defend correspondence theory of Austin against the performative approach of Strawson. If  is true implicates someone previously affirmed this, that does not mean a ditto implicatum is part of the entailment of a  is true utterance, further notes on logic and conversation, in Cole, repr. in a revised form, Modified Occams Razor, irony, stress, truth. The preferred citation should be the Harvard. This is originally the third James lecture, in a revised form.In that lecture, Grice introduced the M. O. R., or Modified Occams Razor. Senses are not be multiplied beyond necessity. The point is that entailment-cum-implicatum does the job that multiplied senses should not do! The Grice Papers contains in a different f. the concluding section for that lecture, on irony, stress, and truth. Grice went back to the Modified Occams razor, but was never able to formalise it! It is, as he concedes, almost a vacuous methodological thingy! It is interesting that the way he defines the alethic value of true alrady cites satisfactory. I shall use, to Names such a property, not true but factually satisfactory. Grices sympathies dont lie with Strawsons Ramsey-based redundance theory of truth, but rather with Tarskis theory of correspondence. He goes on to claim his trust in the feasibility of such a theory. It is, indeed, possible to construct a theory which treats truth as (primarily) a property, not true but factually satisfactory. One may see that point above as merely verbal and not involving any serious threat. Lets also assume that it will be a consequence, or theorem, of such a theory that there will be a class C of utterances (utterances of affirmative Subjects-predicate sentences [such as snow is white or the cat is on the mat of the dog is hairy-coated such that each member of C designates or refers to some item and indicates or predicates some class (these verbs to be explained within the theory), and is factually satisfactory if the item belongs to the class. Let us also assume that there can be a method of introducing a form of expression, it is true that /it is buletic that  and linking it with the notion of factually or alethic or doxastic satisfactory, a consequence of which will be that to say it is true that Smith is happy will be equivalent to saying that any utterance of class C which designates Smith and indicates the class of happy people is factually satisfactory (that is, any utterance which assigns Smith to the class of happy people is factually satisfactory. Mutatis mutandis for Let Smith be happy, and buletic satisfactoriness. The move is Tarskian. TBy stress, Grice means suprasegmental phonology, but he was too much of a philosopher to let that jargon affect him! Refs.: The locus classicus, if that does not sound too pretentious, is Essay 3 in WoW, but there are references elsewhere, such as in “Meaning Revisited,” and under ‘semantics.’ The only one who took up Grice’s challenge at Oxford was L. J. Cohen, “Grice on the particles of natural language,” which got a great response by Oxonian R. C. S. Walker (citing D. Bostock, a tutee of Grice), to which Cohen again responded “Can the conversationalist hypothesis be defended.” Cohen clearly centres his criticism on the razor. He had an early essay, citing Grice, on the DIVERSITY of meaning. Cohen opposes Grice’s conversationalist hypothesis to his own ‘semantic hypothesis’ (“Multiply senses all you want.”)

myth: “My succession of stages is a methodological myth designed to exhibit the conceptual link between expression and communication. Rather than Plato, he appeals to Rawls and the myth of the social conpact! Grice knows a little about Descartess “Discours de la methode,” and he is also aware of similar obsession by Collingwood with philosopical methodology. Grice would joke on midwifery, as the philosopher’s apter method at Oxford: to strangle error at its birth. Grice typifies a generation at Oxford. While he did not socialize with the crème de la crème in pre-war Oxford, he shared some their approach. E.g. a love affair with Russell’s logical construction. After the war, and in retrospect, Grice liked to associate himself with Austin. He obviously felt the need to belong to a group, to make a difference, to make history. Many participants of the play group saw themselves as doing philosophy, rather than reading about it! It was long after that Grice started to note the differences in methodology between Austin and himself. His methodology changed a little. He was enamoured with formalism for a while, and he grants that this love never ceased. In a still later phase, he came to realise that his way of doing philosophy was part of literature (essay writing). And so he started to be slightly more careful about his style – which some found florid. The stylistic concerns were serious. Oxonian philosophers like Holloway had been kept away from philosophy because of the stereotype that the Oxonian philosophers style is pedantic, when it neednt! A philosopher should be allowed, as Plato was, to use a myth, if he thinks his tutee will thank him for that! Grice loved to compare his Oxonian dialectic with Platos Athenian (strictly, Academic) dialectic. Indeed, there is some resemblance of the use of myth in Plato and Grice for philosophical methodological purposes. Grice especially enjoys a myth in his programme in philosophical psychology. In this, he is very much being a philosopher. Non-philosophers usually criticise this methodological use of a myth, but they would, wouldnt they. Grice suggests that a myth has diagogic relevance. Creature construction, the philosopher as demi-god, if mythical, is an easier way for a philosophy don to instil his ideas on his tutee than, say, privileged access and incorrigibility. Refs.: The main source is Grice’s essay on ‘myth’, in The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

objectivism: Grice reads Meinong on objectivity and finds it funny! Meinong distinguishes four classes of objects: ‘Objekt,’ simpliciter, which can be real (like horses) or ideal (like the concepts of difference, identity, etc.) and “Objectiv,” e.g. the affirmation of the being (Sein) or non-being (Nichtsein), of a being-such (Sosein), or a being-with (Mitsein) - parallel to existential, categorical and hypothetical judgements. An “Objectiv” is close to what contemporary philosophers call states of affairs (where these may be actual—may obtain—or not). The third class is the dignitative, e.g. the true, the good, the beautiful. Finally, there is the desiderative, e.g. duties, ends, etc. To these four classes of objects correspond four classes of psychological acts:  (re)presentation (das Vorstellen), for objects thought (das Denken), for the objectives feeling (das Fühlen), for dignitatives desire (das Begehren), for the desideratives. Grice starts with subjectivity. Objectivity can be constructed as non-relativised subjectivity. Grice discusses of Inventing right and wrong by Mackie. In the proceedings, Grice quotes the artless sexism of Austin in talking about the trouser words in Sense and Sensibilia. Grice tackles all the distinctions Mackie had played with: objective/Subjectsive, absolute/relative, categorical/hypothetical or suppositional. Grice quotes directly from Hare: Think of one world into whose fabric values are objectively built; and think of another in which those values have been annihilated. And remember that in both worlds the people in them go on being concerned about the same things—there is no difference in the Subjectsive value. Now I ask, what is the difference between the states of affairs in these two worlds? Can any answer be given except, none whatever? Grice uses the Latinate objective (from objectum). Cf. Hare on what he thinks the oxymoronic sub-jective value. Grice considered more seriously than Barnes did the systematics behind Nicolai Hartmanns stratification of values. Refs.: the most explicit allusion is a specific essay on “objectivity” in The H. P. Grice Papers. Most of the topic is covered in “Conception,” Essay 1. BANC.

objectivum. Here the contrast is what what is subjective, or subjectivum. Notably value. For Hartmann and Grice, a value is rational, objective and absolute, and categorical (not relative).

objectum. For Grice the subjectum is prior. While ‘subject’ and ‘predicate’ are basic Aristotelian categories, the idea of the direct object or indirect object seems to have little philosophical relevance. (but cf. “What is the meaning of ‘of’? Genitivus subjectivus versus enitivus objectivus. The usage that is more widespread is a misnomer for ‘thing’. When an empiricist like Grice speaks of an ‘obble’ or an ‘object,’ he means a thing. That is because, since Hume there’s no such thing as a ‘subject’ qua self. And if there is no subject, there is no object. No Copernican revolution for empiricists.

ontogenesis. it is interesting that Grice was always enquiring his childrens playmates: Can a sweater be red and green all over? No stripes allowed! One found a developmental account of the princile of conversational helpfulness boring, or as he said, "dull." Refs.: There is an essay on the semantics of children’s language, BANC.

optimum: If (a) S accepts at t an alethic acceptability-conditional C 1 , the antecedent of which favours, to degree d, the consequent of C 1 , (b) S accepts at t the antecedent of C 1 , end p.81 (c) after due search by S for such a (further) conditional, there is no conditional C 2 such that (1) S accepts at t C 2 and its antecedent, (2) and the antecedent of C 2 is an extension of the antecedent of C 1 , (3) and the consequent of C 2 is a rival (incompatible with) of the consequent of C 1 , (4) and the antecedent of C 2 favours the consequent of C 2 more than it favours the consequent of C 1 : then S may judge (accept) at t that the consequent of C 1 is acceptable to degree d. For convenience, we might abbreviate the complex clause (C) in the antecedent of the above rule as 'C 1 is optimal for S at t'; with that abbreviation, the rule will run: "If S accepts at t an alethic acceptability-conditional C 1 , the antecedent of which favours its consequent to degree d, and S accepts at t the antecedent of C 1 , and C 1 is optimal for S at C 1 , then S may accept (judge) at t that the consequent of C 1 is acceptable to degree d." Before moving to the practical dimension, I have some observations to make.

ontological marxism:  Ontological for Grice is at least liberal. He is hardly enamoured of some of the motivations which prompt the advocacy of psycho-physical identity. He has in mind a concern to exclude an entity such as as a ‘soul,’ an event of the soul, or a property of the soul. His taste is for keeping open house for all sorts of conditions of entities, just so long as when the entity comes in it helps with the housework, i. e., provided that Grice see the entity work, and provided that it is not detected in illicit logical behaviour, which need not involve some degree of indeterminacy, The entity works? Ergo, the entity exists. And, if it comes on the recommendation of some transcendental argument the entity may even qualify as an entium realissimum. To exclude an honest working entitiy is metaphysical snobbery, a reluctance to be seen in the company of any but the best. A category, a universalium plays a role in Grice’s meta-ethics. A principles or laws of psychology may be self-justifying, principles connected with the evaluation of ends. If these same principles play a role in determining what we count as entia realissima, metaphysics, and an abstractum would be grounded in part in considerations about value (a not unpleasant project). This ontological Marxism is latter day. In “Some remarks,” he expresses his disregard for what he calls a “Wittgensteinian” limitation in expecting behavioural manifestation of an ascription about a soul. Yet in “Method” he quotes almost verbatim from Witters, “No psychological postulation without the behaviour the postulation is meant to explain.” It was possibly D. K. Lewis who made him change his mind. Grice was obsessed with Aristotle on ‘being,’ and interpreted Aristotle as holding a thesis of unified semantic ‘multiplicity.’ This is in agreement with the ontological Marxism, in more than one ways. By accepting a denotatum for a praedicatum like ‘desideratum,’ Grice is allowing the a desideratum may be the subject of discourse. It is an ‘entity’ in this fashion.

oratio obliqua: The use of ‘oratio’ here Grice disliked. One can see a squarrel grabbing a nut, Toby judges that a nut is to eat. So we would have a ‘that’-clause, and in a way, an ‘oratio obliqua,’ which is what the UTTERER (not the squarrel) would produce as ‘oratio recta,’ ‘A nut is to eat,’ should the circumstance obtains. At some points he allows things like “Snow is white” means that snow is white. Something at the Oxford Philosohical Society he would not. Grice is vague in this. If the verb is a ‘verbum dicendi,’ ‘oratio obliqua’ is literal. If it’s a verbum sentiendi or percipiendi, volendi, credendi, or cognoscenti, the connection is looser. Grice was especially concerned that buletic verbs usually do not take a that-clause (but cf. James: I will that the distant table sides over the floor toward me. It does not!). Also that seems takes a that-clause in ways that might not please Maucalay. Grice had explored that-clauses with Staal. He was concerned about the viability of an initially appealing etymological approach by Davidson to the that-clause in terms of demonstration. Grice had presupposed the logic of that-clauses from a much earlier stage, Those spots mean that he has measles.The f. contains a copy of Davidsons essay, On saying that, the that-clause, the that-clause, with Staal . Davidson quotes from Murray et al. The Oxford English Dictionary, Oxford. Cf. Onions, An Advanced English Syntax, and remarks that first learned that that in such contexts evolved from an explicit demonstrative from Hintikkas Knowledge and Belief. Hintikka remarks that a similar development has taken place in German Davidson owes the reference to the O.E.D. to Stiezel. Indeed Davidson was fascinated by the fact that his conceptual inquiry repeated phylogeny. It should come as no surprise that a that-clause utterance evolves through about the stages our ruminations have just carried us. According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the use of that in a that-clause is generally held to have arisen out of the demonstrative pronoun pointing to the clause which it introduces. The sequence goes as follows. He once lived here: we all know that; that, now this, we all know: he once lived here; we all know that, or this: he once lived here; we all know that he once lived here. As Hintikka notes, some pedants trying to display their knowledge of German, use a comma before that: We all know, that he once lived here, to stand for an earlier :: We all know: that he once lived here. Just like the English translation that, dass can be omitted in a sentence. Er glaubt, dass die Erde eine Scheibe sei. He believes that the Earth is a disc. Er glaubt, die Erde sei eine Scheibe. He believes the Earth is a disc. The that-clause is brought to the fore by Davidson, who, consulting the OED, reminds philosophers that the English that is very cognate with the German idiom. More specifically, that is a demonstrative, even if the syntax, in English, hides this fact in ways which German syntax doesnt. Grice needs to rely on that-clauses for his analysis of mean, intend, and notably will. He finds that Prichards genial discovery was the license to use willing as pre-facing a that-clause. This allows Grice to deals with willing as applied to a third person. I will that he wills that he wins the chess match. Philosophers who disregard this third-person use may indulge in introspection and Subjectsivism when they shouldnt! Grice said that Prichard had to be given great credit for seeing that the accurate specification of willing should be willing that and not willing to. Analogously, following Prichard on willing, Grice does not stipulate that the radix for an intentional (utterer-oriented or exhibitive-autophoric-buletic) incorporate a reference to the utterer (be in the first person), nor that the radix for an imperative (addressee-oriented or hetero-phoric protreptic buletic) or desiderative in general, incorporate a reference of the addressee (be in the second person). They shall not pass is a legitimate intentional as is the ‘you shall not get away with it,’either involves Prichards wills that, rather than wills to). And the sergeant is to muster the men at dawn (uttered by a captain to a lieutenant) is a perfectly good imperative, again involving Prichards wills that, rather than wills to. Refs.: The allusions are scattered, but there are specific essays, one on the ‘that’-clause, and also discussions on Davidson on saying that. There is a reference to ‘oratio obliqua’ and Prichard in “Uncertainty,” BANC.

optimum. Grice uses ‘optimality’ as one guise of value. Obviously, it is, as Short and Lewis have it, the superlative of ‘bonum,’ so one has to be careful. Optimum is used in value theory and decision theory, too.  Cf. Maximum, and minimax. In terms of the principle of least conversational effort, the optimal move is the least costly. To utter, “The pillar box seems red” when you can utter, “The pillar box IS red” is to go into the trouble when you shouldn’t. So this maximin regulates the conversational exchange. The utterer is meant to be optimally efficient, and the addressee is intended to recognise that.

ostensum: In his analysis of the two basic procedures, one involving the subjectum, and another the praedicatum, Grice would play with the utterer OSTENDING that p. This relates to his semiotic approach to communication, and avoiding to the maximum any reference to a linguistic rule or capacity or faculty as different from generic rationality. In WoW:134 Grice explores what he calls ‘ostensive correlation.’ He is exploring communication scenarios where the Utterer is OSTENDING that p, or in predicate terms, that the A is B. He is not so much concerned with the B, but with the fact that “B” is predicated of a particular denotatum of “the A,” and by what criteria. He is having in mind his uncle’s dog, Fido, who is shaggy, i.e. fairy coated. So he is showing to Strawson that that dog over there is the one that belongs to his uncle, and that, as Strawson can see, is a shaggy dog, by which Grice means hairy coated. That’s the type of ‘ostensive correlation’ Grice is having in mind. In an attempted ostensive correlation of the predicate B (‘shaggy’) with the feature or property of being hairy coated, as per a standard act of communication in which Grice, uttering, “Fido is shaggy’ will have Strawson believe that Uncle Grice’s dog is hairy coated – (1) U will perform a number of acts in each of which he ostends a thing  (a1, a2, a3, etc.). (2) Simultaneously with each ostension, he utters a token of the predicate “shaggy.” (3) It is his intention TO OSTEND, and to be recognised as ostending, only things which are either, in his view, plainly hairy-coated, or are, in his view, plainly NOT hairy-coated. (4) In a model sequence these intentions are fulfilled. Grice grants that this does not finely distinguish between ‘being hairy-coated’ from ‘being such that the UTTERER believes to be unmistakenly hairy coated.’ But such is a problem of any explicit correlation, which are usually taken for granted – and deemed ‘implicit’ in standard acts of communication. In primo actu non indiget volunta* diiectivo , sed sola_» objecti ostensio ... non potest errar* ciica finem in universali ostensum , potest tamen secundum eos ...

oxonianism: See playgroup. The playgroup was Oxonian. There are aspects of Grice’s philosophy which are Oxonian but not playgroup-related, and had to do with his personal inclinations. The fact that it was Hardie who was his tutor and instilled on him a love for Aristotle. Grice’s rapport with H. A. Prichard. Grice would often socialize with members of Ryle’s group, such as O. P. Wood, J. D. Mabbott, and W. C. Kneale. And of course, he had a knowleddge of the history of Oxford philosophy, quoting from J. C. Wilson, G. F. Stout, H. H. Price, Bosanquet, Bradley. He even had his Oxonian ‘enemies,’ Dummett, Anscombe. And he would quote from independents, like A. J. P. Kenny. But if he had to quote someone first, it was a member of his beloved playgroup: Austin, Strawson, Warnock, Urmson, Hare, Hart, Hampshire. Grice cannot possibly claim to talk about post-war Oxford philosophy, but his own! Cf. Oxfords post-war philosophy.  What were Grices first impressions when arriving at Oxford. He was going to learn. Only the poor learn at Oxford was an adage he treasured, since he wasnt one! Let us start with an alphabetical listing of Grices play Group companions: Austin, Butler, Flew, Gardiner, Grice, Hare, Hampshire, Hart, Nowell-Smith, Parkinson, Paul, Pears, Quinton, Sibley, Strawson, Thomson, Urmson, and Warnock.  Grices main Oxonian association is St. Johns, Oxford. By Oxford Philosophy, Grice notably refers to Austins Play Group, of which he was a member. But Grice had Oxford associations pre-war, and after the demise of Austin. But back to the Play Group, this, to some, infamous, playgroup, met on Saturday mornings at different venues at Oxford, including Grices own St. John’s ‒ apparently, Austins favourite venue. Austin regarded himself and his kindergarten as linguistic or language botanists. The idea was to list various ordinary uses of this or that philosophical notion. Austin: They say philosophy is about language; well, then, let’s botanise! Grices involvement with Oxford philosophy of course predated his associations with Austins play group. He always said he was fortunate of having been a tutee to Hardie at Corpus. Corpus, Oxford. Grice would occasionally refer to the emblematic pelican, so prominently displayed at Corpus. Grice had an interim association with the venue one associates most directly with philosophy, Merton ‒: Grice, Merton, Oxford. While Grice loved to drop Oxonian Namess, notably his rivals, such as Dummett or Anscombe, he knew when not to. His Post-war Oxford philosophy, as opposed to more specific items in The Grice Collection, remains general in tone, and intended as a defense of the ordinary-language approach to philosophy. Surprisingly, or perhaps not (for those who knew Grice), he takes a pretty idiosyncratic characterisation of conceptual analysis. Grices philosophical problems emerge with Grices idiosyncratic use of this or that expression. Conceptual analysis is meant to solve his problems, not others, repr. in WOW . Grice finds it important to reprint this since he had updated thoughts on the matter, which he displays in his Conceptual analysis and the province of philosophy. The topic represents one of the strands he identifies behind the unity of his philosophy. By post-war Oxford philosophy, Grice meant the period he was interested in. While he had been at Corpus, Merton, and St. Johns in the pre-war days, for some reason, he felt that he had made history in the post-war period. The historical reason Grice gives is understandable enough. In the pre-war days, Grice was the good student and the new fellow of St. Johns ‒ the other one was Mabbott. But he had not been able to engage in philosophical discussion much, other than with other tutees of Hardie. After the war, Grice indeed joins Austins more popular, less secretive Saturday mornings. Indeed, for Grice, post-war means all philosophy after the war (and not just say, the forties!) since he never abandoned the methods he developed under Austin, which were pretty congenial to the ones he had himself displayed in the pre-war days, in essays like Negation and Personal identity. Grice is a bit of an expert on Oxonian philosophy. He sees himself as a member of the school of analytic philosophy, rather than the abused term ordinary-language philosophy. This is evident by the fact that he contributed to such polemic  ‒ but typically Oxonian  ‒ volumes such as Butler, Analytic Philosophy, published by Blackwell (of all publishers). Grice led a very social life at Oxford, and held frequent philosophical discussions with the Play group philosophers (alphabetically listed above), and many others, such as Wood.  Post-war Oxford philosophy, miscellaneous, Oxford philosophy, in WOW, II, Semantics and Met. , Essay. By Oxford philosophy, Grice means his own. Grice went back to the topic of philosophy and ordinary language, as one of his essays is precisely entitled, Philosophy and ordinary language, philosophy and ordinary language, : ordinary-language philosophy, linguistic botanising. Grice is not really interested in ordinary language as a philologist might. He spoke ordinary language, he thought. The point had been brought to the fore by Austin. If they think philosophy is a play on words, well then, lets play the game. Grices interest is methodological. Malcolm had been claiming that ordinary language is incorrigible. While Grice agreed that language can be clever, he knew that Aristotle was possibly right when he explored ta legomena in terms of the many and the selected wise, philosophy and ordinary language, philosophy and ordinary language, : philosophy, ordinary language. At the time of writing, ordinary-language philosophy had become, even within Oxford, a bit of a term of abuse. Grice tries to defend Austins approach to it, while suggesting ideas that Austin somewhat ignored, like what an utterer implies by the use of an ordinary-language expression, rather than what the expression itself does. Grice is concerned, contra Austin, in explanation (or explanatory adequacy), not taxonomy (or descriptive adequacy). Grice disregards Austins piecemeal approach to ordinary language, as Grice searches for the big picture of it all. Grice never used ordinary language seriously. The phrase was used, as he explains, by those who HATED ordinary-language philosophy. Theres no such thing as ordinary language. Surely you cannot fairly describe the idiosyncratic linguistic habits of an Old Cliftonian as even remotely ordinary. Extra-ordinary more likely! As far as the philosophy bit goes, this is what Bergmann jocularly described as the linguistic turn. But as Grice notes, the linguistic turn involves both the ideal language and the ordinary language. Grice defends the choice by Austin of the ordinary seeing that it was what he had to hand! While Grice seems to be in agreement with the tone of his Wellesley talk, his idioms there in. Youre crying for the moon! Philosophy need not be grand! These seem to contrast with his more grandiose approach to philosophy. His struggle was to defend the minutiæ of linguistic botanising, that had occupied most of his professional life, with a grander view of the discipline. He blamed Oxford for that. Never in the history of philosophy had philosophers shown such an attachment to ordinary language as they did in post-war Oxford, Grice liked to say.  Having learned Grecian and Latin at Clifton, Grice saw in Oxford a way to go back to English! He never felt the need to explore Continental modern languages like German or French. Aristotle was of course cited in Greek, but Descartes is almost not cited, and Kant is cited in the translation available to Oxonians then. Grice is totally right that never has philosophy experienced such a fascination with ordinary use except at Oxford. The ruthless and unswerving association of philosophy with ordinary language has been peculiar to the Oxford scene. While many found this attachment to ordinary usage insidious, as Warnock put it, it fit me and Grice to a T, implicating you need a sort of innate disposition towards it! Strawson perhaps never had it! And thats why Grices arguments contra Strawson rest on further minutiæ whose detection by Grice never ceased to amaze his tutee! In this way, Grice felt he WAS Austins heir! While Grice is associated with, in chronological order, Corpus, Merton, and St. Johns, it is only St. Johns that counts for the Griceian! For it is at St. Johns he was a Tutorial Fellow in Philosophy! And we love him as a philosopher. Refs.: The obvious keyword is “Oxford.” His essay in WoW on post-war Oxford philosophy is general – the material in the H. P. Grice papers is more anecdotic. Also “Reply to Richards,” and references above under ‘linguistic botany’ and ‘play group,’ in BANC.

palæo-Griceian: H. P. Grice was the first member of the play group to come up with a system of ‘pragmatic rules.’ Or perhaps he wasn’t. In any case, palaeo-Griceian refers to any attempt by someone who is an Oxonian English philosopher who suggested something like H. P. Grice later did! There are palaeo-Griceian suggestions in Bradley – “Logic” --, Bosanquet, J. C. Wilson (“Statement and inference”) and a few others. Within those who interacted with Grice to provoke him into the ‘pragmatic rule’ account were two members of the play group. One was not English, but a Scot: G. A. Paul. Paul had been to ‘the other place,’ and was at Oxford trying to spread Witters’s doctrine. The bafflement one gets from “I certainly don’t wish to cast any doubt on the matter, but that pillar box seems red to me; and the reason why it is does, it’s because it is red, and its redness causes in my sense of vision the sense-datum that the thing is red.” Grice admits that he first came out with the idea when confronted with this example. Mainly Grice’s motivation is to hold that such a ‘statement’ (if statement, it is, -- vide Bar-Hillel) is true. The other member was English: P. F. Strawson. And Grice notes that it was Strawson’s Introduction to logical theory that motivated him to apply a technique which had proved successful in the area of the philosophy of perception to this idea by Strawson that Whitehead and Russell are ‘incorrect.’ Again, Grice’s treatment concerns holding a ‘statement’ to be ‘true.’

Besides these two primary cases, there are others. First, is the list of theses in “Causal Theory.” None of them are assigned to a particular philosopher, so the research may be conducted towards the identification of these. The theses are, besides the one he is himself dealing, the sense-datum ‘doubt or denial’ implicatum: One, What is actual is not also possible. Two, What is known to be the case is not also believed to be the case. Three, Moore was guilty of misusing the lexeme ‘know.’ Four, To say that someone is responsible is to say that he is accountable for something condemnable. Six, A horse cannot look like a horse. Now, in “Prolegomena” he add further cases. Again, since this are palaeo-Griceian, it may be a matter of tracing the earliest occurrences. In “Prolegomena,” Grice divides the examples in Three Groups. The last is an easy one to identity: the ‘performatory’ approach: for which he gives the example by Strawson on ‘true,’ and mentions two other cases: a performatory use of ‘I know’ for I guarantee; and the performatory use of ‘good’ for ‘I approve’ (Ogden). The second group is easy to identify since it’s a central concern and it is exactly Strawson’s attack on Whitehead and Russell. But Grice is clear here. It is mainly with regard to ‘if’ that he wants to discuss Strawson, and for which he quotes him at large. Before talking about ‘if’, he mentions the co-ordinating connectives ‘and’ and ‘or’, without giving a source. So, here there is a lot to research about the thesis as held by other philosophers even at Oxford (where, however, ‘logic’ was never considered a part of philosophy proper). The first group is the most varied, and easier to generalise, because it refers to any ‘sub-expression’ held to occur in a full expression which is held to be ‘inappropriate.’ Those who judge the utterance to be inappropriate are sometimes named. Grice starts with Ryle and The Concept of Mind – palaeo-Griceian, in that it surely belongs to Grice’s previous generation. It concerns the use of the adverb ‘voluntary’ and Grice is careful to cite Ryle’s description of the case, using words like ‘incorrect,’ and that a ‘sense’ claimed by philosophers is an absurd one. Then there is a third member of the playgroup – other than G. A. Paul and P. F. Strawson – the Master Who Wobbles, J. L. Austin. Grice likes the way Austin offers himself as a good target – Austin was dead by then, and Grice would otherwise not have even tried – Austin uses variables: notably Mly, and a general thesis, ‘no modification without aberration.’ But basically, Grice agrees that it’s all about the ‘philosophy of action.’ So in describing an agent’s action, the addition of an adverb makes the whole thing inappropriate. This may relate to at least one example in “Causal” involving ‘responsible.’ While Grice there used the noun and adjective, surely it can be turned into an adverb. The fourth member of the playgroup comes next: H. L. A. Hart. Grice laughs at Hart’s idea that to add ‘carefully’ in the description of an action the utterer is committed to the idea that the agent THINKS the steps taken for the performance are reasonable. There is a thesis he mentions then which alla “Causal Theory,” gets uncredited – about ‘trying.’ But he does suggest Witters. And then there is his own ‘doubt or denial’ re: G. A. Paul, and another one in the field of the philosophy of perception that he had already mentioned vaguely in “Causal”: a horse cannot look like a horse. Here he quotes Witters in extenso, re: ‘seeing as.’ While Grice mentions ‘philosophy of action,’ there is at least one example involving ‘philosophical psychology’: B. S. Benjamin on C. D. Broad on the factiveness of ‘remember.’ When one thinks of all the applications that the ‘conversational model’ has endured, one realizes that unless your background is philosophical, you are bound not to realise the centrality of Grice’s thesis for philosophical methodology.

paradigm-case argument: I wonder if Grice thought that STRAWSON’s appeal to resentment to prove freewill is paradigm case? The idiom was coined by Grice’s first tutee at St. John’s, G. N. A. Flew, and he applied it to ‘free will.’ Grice later used it to describe the philosophising by Urmson (in “Retrospetive”). he issue of analyticity is, as Locke puts it, the issue of whats trifle. That a triangle is trilateral Locke considers a trifling proposition, like Saffron is yellow. Lewes (who calls mathematical propositions analytic) describes the Kantian problem. The reductive analysis of meaning Grice offers depends on the analytic. Few Oxonian philosophers would follow Loar, D. Phil Oxon, under Warnock, in thinking of Grices conversational maxims as empirical inductive generalisations over functional states! Synthesis may do in the New World,but hardly in the Old! The locus classicus for the ordinary-language philosophical response to Quine in Two dogmas of empiricism. Grice and Strawson claim that is analytic does have an ordinary-language use, as attached two a type of behavioural conversational response. To an analytically false move (such as My neighbours three-year-old son is an adult) the addressee A is bound to utter, I dont understand you! You are not being figurative, are you? To a synthetically false move, on the other hand (such as My neighbours three-year-old understands Russells Theory of Types), the addressee A will jump with, Cant believe it! The topdogma of analyticity is for Grice very important to defend. Philosophy depends on it! He knows that to many his claim to fame is his In defence of a dogma, the topdogma of analyticity, no less. He eventually turns to a pragmatist justification of the distinction. This pragmatist justification is still in accordance with what he sees as the use of analytic in ordinary language. His infamous examples are as follows. My neighbours three-year old understands Russells Theory of Types. A: Hard to believe, but I will. My neighbours three-year old is an adult. Metaphorically? No. Then I dont understand you, and what youve just said is, in my scheme of things, analytically false. Ultimately, there are conversational criteria, based on this or that principle of conversational helfpulness. Grice is also circumstantially concerned with the synthetic a priori, and he would ask his childrens playmates: Can a sweater be red and green all over? No stripes allowed! The distinction is ultimately Kantian, but it had brought to the fore by the linguistic turn, Oxonian and other! In defence of a dogma, Two dogmas of empiricism, : the analytic-synthetic distinction. For Quine, there are two. Grice is mainly interested in the first one: that there is a distinction between the analytic and the synthetic. Grice considers Empiricism as a monster on his way to the Rationalist City of Eternal Truth. Grice came back time and again to explore the analytic-synthetic distinction. But his philosophy remained constant. His sympathy is for the practicality of it, its rationale. He sees it as involving formal calculi, rather than his own theory of conversation as rational co-operation which does not presuppose the analytic-synthetic distinction, even if it explains it! Grice would press the issue here: if one wants to prove that such a theory of conversation as rational co-operation has to be seen as philosophical, rather than some other way, some idea of analyticity may be needed to justify the philosophical enterprise. Cf. the synthetic a priori, that fascinated Grice most than anything Kantian else! Can a sweater be green and red all over? No stripes allowed. With In defence of a dogma, Grice and Strawson attack a New-World philosopher. Grice had previously collaborated with Strawson in an essay on Met.  (actually a three-part piece, with Pears as the third author). The example Grice chooses to refute attack by Quine of the top-dogma is the Aristotelian idea of the peritrope, as Aristotle refutes Antiphasis in Met.  (v. Ackrill, Burnyeat and Dancy). Grice explores chapter Γ 8 of Aristotles Met. .  In Γ 8, Aristotle presents two self-refutation arguments against two theses, and calls the asserter, Antiphasis, T1 = Everything is true, and T2 = Everything is false, Metaph. Γ 8, 1012b13–18. Each thesis is exposed to the stock objection that it eliminates itself. An utterer who explicitly conveys that everything is true also makes the thesis opposite to his own true, so that his own is not true (for the opposite thesis denies that his is true), and any utterer U who explicitly conveys that everything is false also belies himself.  Aristotle does not seem to be claiming that, if everything is true, it would also be true that it is false that everything is true and, that, therefore, Everything is true must be false: the final, crucial inference, from the premise if, p, ~p to the conclusion ~p is missing. But it is this extra inference that seems required to have a formal refutation of Antiphasiss T1 or T2 by consequentia mirabilis. The nature of the argument as a purely dialectical silencer of Antiphasis is confirmed by the case of T2, Everything is false. An utterer who explicitly conveys that everything is false unwittingly concedes, by self-application, that what he is saying must be false too. Again, the further and different conclusion Therefore; it is false that everything is false is missing. That proposal is thus self-defeating, self-contradictory (and comparable to Grices addressee using adult to apply to three-year old, without producing the creature), oxymoronic, and suicidal. This seems all that Aristotle is interested in establishing through the self-refutation stock objection. This is not to suggest that Aristotle did not believe that Everything is true or Everything is false is false, or that he excludes that he can prove its falsehood. Grice notes that this is not what Aristotle seems to be purporting to establish in 1012b13–18. This holds for a περιτροπή (peritrope) argument, but not for a περιγραφή (perigraphe) argument (συμβαίνει δὴ καὶ τὸ θρυλούμενον πᾶσι τοῖς τοιούτοις λόγοις, αὐτοὺς ἑαυτοὺς ἀναιρεῖν. ὁ μὲν γὰρ πάντα ἀληθῆ λέγων καὶ τὸν ἐναντίον αὑτοῦ λόγον ἀληθῆ ποιεῖ, ὥστε τὸν ἑαυτοῦ οὐκ ἀληθῆ (ὁ γὰρ ἐναντίος οὔ φησιν αὐτὸν ἀληθῆ), ὁ δὲ πάντα ψευδῆ καὶ αὐτὸς αὑτόν.) It may be emphasized that Aristotles argument does not contain an explicit application of consequentia mirabilis. Indeed, no extant self-refutation argument before Augustine, Grice is told by Mates, contains an explicit application of consequentia mirabilis. This observation is a good and important one, but Grice has doubts about the consequences one may draw from it. One may take the absence of an explicit application of consequentia mirabilis to be a sign of the purely dialectical nature of the self-refutation argument. This is questionable. The formulation of a self-refutation argument (as in Grices addressee, Sorry, I misused adult.) is often compressed and elliptical and involves this or that implicatum. One usually assumes that this or that piece in a dialectical context has been omitted and should be supplied (or worked out, as Grice prefers) by the addressee. But in this or that case, it is equally possible to supply some other, non-dialectical piece of reasoning. In Aristotles arguments from Γ 8, e.g., the addressee may supply an inference to the effect that the thesis which has been shown to be self-refuting is not true. For if Aristotle takes the argument to establish that the thesis has its own contradictory version as a consequence, it must be obvious to Aristotle that the thesis is not true (since every consequence of a true thesis is true, and two contradictory theses cannot be simultaneously true). On the further assumption (that Grice makes explicit) that the principle of bivalence is applicable, Aristotle may even infer that the thesis is false. It is perfectly plausible to attribute such an inference to Aristotle and to supply it in his argument from Γ 8. On this account, there is no reason to think that the argument is of an intrinsically dialectical nature and cannot be adequately represented as a non-dialectical proof of the non-truth, or even falsity, of the thesis in question. It is indeed difficult to see signs of a dialectical exchange between two parties (of the type of which Grice and Strawson are champions) in Γ8, 1012b13–18. One piece of evidence is Aristotles reference to the person, the utterer, as Grice prefers who explicitly conveys or asserts (ὁ λέγων) that T1 or that T2. This reference by the Grecian philosopher to the Griceian utterer or asserter of the thesis that everything is true would be irrelevant if Aristotles aim is to prove something about T1s or T2s propositional content, independently of the act by the utterer of uttering its expression and thereby explicitly conveying it. However, it is not clear that this reference is essential to Aristotles argument. One may even doubt whether the Grecian philosopher is being that Griceian, and actually referring to the asserter of T1 or T2. The *implicit* (or implicated) grammatical Subjects of Aristotles ὁ λέγων (1012b15) might be λόγος, instead of the utterer qua asserter. λόγος is surely the implicit grammatical Subjects of ὁ λέγων shortly after ( 1012b21–22. 8). The passage may be taken to be concerned with λόγοι ‒ this or that statement, this or that thesis  ‒ but not with its asserter.  In the Prior Analytics, Aristotle states that no thesis (A three-year old is an adult) can necessarily imply its own contradictory (A three-year old is not an adult) (2.4, 57b13–14). One may appeal to this statement in order to argue for Aristotles claim that a self-refutation argument should NOT be analyzed as involving an implicit application of consequentia mirabilis. Thus, one should deny that Aristotles self-refutation argument establishes a necessary implication from the self-refuting thesis to its contradictory. However, this does not explain what other kind of consequence relation Aristotle takes the self-refutation argument to establish between the self-refuting thesis and its contradictory, although dialectical necessity has been suggested. Aristotles argument suffices to establish that Everything is false is either false or liar-paradoxical. If a thesis is liar-paradoxical (and Grice loved, and overused the expression), the assumption of its falsity leads to contradiction as well as the assumption of its truth. But Everything is false is only liar-paradoxical in the unlikely, for Aristotle perhaps impossible, event that everything distinct from this thesis is false. So, given the additional premise that there is at least one true item distinct from the thesis Everything is false, Aristotle can safely infer that the thesis is false. As for Aristotles ὁ γὰρ λέγων τὸν ἀληθῆ λόγον ἀληθῆ ἀληθής,, or eliding the γὰρ,  ὁ  λέγων τὸν ἀληθῆ λόγον ἀληθῆ ἀληθής, (ho legon ton alethe logon alethe alethes) may be rendered as either: The statement which states that the true statement is true is true, or, more alla Grice, as He who says (or explicitly conveys, or indicates) that the true thesis is true says something true. It may be argued that it is quite baffling (and figurative or analogical or metaphoric) in this context, to take ἀληθής to be predicated  of the Griceian utterer, a person (true standing for truth teller, trustworthy), to take it to mean that he says something true, rather than his statement stating something true, or his statement being true. But cf. L and S: ἀληθής [α^], Dor. ἀλαθής, [α^], Dor. ἀλαθής, ές, f. λήθω, of persons, truthful, honest (not in Hom., v. infr.), ἀ. νόος Pi. O.2.92; κατήγορος A. Th. 439; κριτής Th. 3.56; οἶνος ἀ. `in vino veritas, Pl. Smp. 217e; ὁ μέσος ἀ. τις Arist. EN 1108a20. Admittedly, this or that non-Griceian passage in which it is λόγος, and not the utterer, which is the implied grammatical Subjects of ὁ λέγων can be found in Metaph. Γ7, 1012a24–25; Δ6, 1016a33; Int. 14, 23a28–29; De motu an. 10, 703a4; Eth. Nic. 2.6, 1107a6–7. 9. So the topic is controversial. Indeed such a non-Griceian exegesis of the passage is given by Alexander of Aphrodisias (in Metaph. 340. 26–29):9, when Alexander observes that the statement, i.e. not the utterer, that says that everything is false (ὁ δὲ πάντα ψευδῆ εἶναι λέγων λόγος) negates itself, not himself, because if everything is false, this very statement, which, rather than, by which the utterer, says that everything is false, would be false, and how can an utterer be FALSE? So that the statement which, rather than the utterer who, negates it, saying that not everything is false, would be true, and surely an utterer cannot be true. Does Alexander misrepresent Aristotles argument by omitting every Griceian reference to the asserter or utterer qua rational personal agent, of the thesis? If the answer is negative, even if the occurrence of ὁ λέγων at 1012b15 refers to the asserter, or utterer, qua rational personal agent, this is merely an accidental feature of Aristotles argument that cannot be regarded as an indication of its dialectical nature. None of this is to deny that some self-refutation argument may be of an intrinsically dialectical nature; it is only to deny that every one is This is in line with Burnyeats view that a dialectical self-refutation, even if qualified, as Aristotle does, as ancient, is a subspecies of self-refutation, but does not exhaust it. Granted, a dialectical approach may provide a useful interpretive framework for many an ancient self-refutation argument. A statement like If proof does not exist, proof exists ‒ that occurs in an anti-sceptical self-refutation argument reported by Sextus Empiricus  ‒ may receive an attractive dialectical re-interpretation. It may be argued that such a statement should not be understood at the level of what is explicated, but should be regarded as an elliptical reminder of a complex dialectical argument which can be described as follows. Cf. If thou claimest that proof doth not exist, thou must present a proof of what thou assertest, in order to be credible, but thus thou thyself admitest that proof existeth. A similar point can be made for Aristotles famous argument in the Protrepticus that one must philosophise. A number of sources state that this argument relies on the implicature, If one must not philosophize, one must philosophize. It may be argued that this implicature is an elliptical reminder of a dialectical argument such as the following. If thy position is that thou must not philosophise, thou must reflect on this choice and argue in its support, but by doing so thou art already choosing to do philosophy, thereby admitting that thou must philosophise. The claim that every instance of an ancient self-refutation arguments is of an intrinsically dialectical nature is thus questionable, to put it mildly. V also 340.19–26, and A. Madigan, tcomm., Alexander of Aphrodisias: On Aristotles Met.  4, Ithaca, N.Y., Burnyeat, Protagoras and Self-Refutation in Later Greek Philosophy,. Grices implicature is that Quine should have learned Greek before refuting Aristotle. But then *I* dont speak Greek! Strawson refuted. Refs.: The obvious keyword is ‘analytic,’ in The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

paradox: “Misleading but true – could do.” Note that Grice has an essay on the ‘paradoxes of entailment’. As Strawson notes, this is misleading. For Strawson these are not paradoxes. The things are INCORRECT. For Grice, the Philonian paradoxes are indeed paradoxical because each is a truth. Now, Strawson and Wiggins challenge this. For Grice, to utter “if p, q” implicates that the utterer is not in a position to utter anything stronger. He implicates that he has NON-TRUTH-FUNCTIONAL REASON or grounds to utter “if p, q.” For Strawson, THAT is precisely what the ‘consequentialist’ is holding. For Strawson, the utterer CONVENTIONALLY IMPLIES that the consequent or apodosis follows, in some way, from the antecedent or protasis. Not for Grice. For Grice, what the utterer explicitly conveys is that the conditions that obtain are those of the Philonian conditional. He implicitly conveys that there is n inferrability, and this is cancellable. If Strawson holds that it is a matter of a conventional implicatum, the issue of cancellation becomes crucial. For Grice, to add that “But I don’t want to covey that there is any inferrability between the protasis and the apodosis” is NOT a contradiction. The utterer or emissor is NOT self-contradicting. And he isn’t! The first to use the term ‘paracox’ here is a genius. Possibly Philo. It was W. E. Johnson who first used the expression 'paradox of implication', explaining that a paradox of this sort arises when a logician proceeds step by step, using accepted principles, until a formula is reached which conflicts with common sense [Johnson, 1921, 39].The paradox of implication assumes many forms,  some of which are not easily recognised as involving  mere varieties of the same fundamental principle. But     COMPOUND PROPOSITIONS 47   I believe that they can all be resolved by the consider-  ation that we cannot ivithotd qjialification apply a com-  posite and (in particular) an implicative proposition to  the further process of inference. Such application is  possible only when the composite has been reached  irrespectively of any assertion of the truth or falsity of  its components. In other words, it is a necessary con-  dition for further inference that the components of a  composite should really have been entertained hypo-  thetically when asserting that composite.   § 9. The theory of compound propositions leads to  a special development when in the conjunctives the  components are taken — not, as hitherto, assertorically —  but hypothetically as in the composites. The conjunc-  tives will now be naturally expressed by such words as  possible or compatible, while the composite forms which  respectively contradict the conjunctives will be expressed  by such words as necessary or impossible. If we select  the negative form for these conjunctives, we should write  as contradictory pairs :   Conjunctives {possible) Composites {fiecessary)     a. p does not imply q   1, p is not implied by q   c. p is not co-disjunct to q   d. p is not co-alternate to q     a, p implies q   b, p is implied by q   c, p is co-disjunct to q   d, p is co-alternate to q     Or Otherwise, using the term 'possible' throughout,  the four conjunctives will assume the form that the several  conjunctions — pq^pq, pq ^-nd pq — are respectively /^i*-  sidle. Here the word possible is equivalent to being  merely hypothetically entertained, so that the several  conjunctives are now qualified in the same way as are  the simple components themselves. Similarly the four     48 CHAPTER HI   corresponding composites may be expressed negatively  by using the term 'impossible,' and will assume the  form that the ^^;yunctions pq^ pq, pq and pq are re-  spectively impossible, or (which means the same) that  the ^zVjunctions/^, ^^, pq Rnd pq are necessary. Now  just as 'possible* here means merely 'hypothetically  entertained/ so 'impossible' and 'necessary' mean re-  spectively 'assertorically denied' and 'assertorically  affirmed/   The above scheme leads to the consideration of the  determinate relations that could subsist of p to q when  these eight propositions (conjunctives and composites)  are combined in everypossibleway without contradiction.  Prima facie there are i6 such combinations obtained by  selecting a or ay b or 3, c or c, d or J for one of the four  constituent terms. Out of these i6 combinations, how-  ever, some will involve a conjunction of supplementaries  (see tables on pp. 37, 38), which would entail the as-  sertorical affirmation or denial of one of the components  / or q, and consequently would not exhibit a relation of  p to q. The combinations that, on this ground, must be  disallowed are the following nine :   cihcd, abed, abed, abed] abed, bacd, cabd, dabc\ abed.   The combinations that remain to be admitted are  therefore the followino- seven :   abld, cdab\ abed, bald, cdab^ dcab\ abed.   In fact, under the imposed restriction, since a or b  cannot be conjoined with c or d, it follows that we must  always conjoin a with c and d\ b with e and d\ c with  a and b\ ^with a and b. This being understood, the     COMPOUND PROPOSITIONS 49   seven permissible combinations that remain are properly  to be expressed in the more simple forms:   ab, cd\ ab, ba, cd, dc\ and abed   These will be represented (but re-arranged for purposes  of symmetry) in the following table giving all the  possible relations of any proposition/ to any proposition  q. The technical names which 1 propose to adopt for  the several relations are printed in the second column  of the table.   Table of possible relations of propositio7i p to proposition q.     1. {a,b)\ p implies and is implied by q   2. (a, b) : p implies but is not implied by q,   3. {b^d): p is implied by but does not imply q,   4. {djb^'c^d): p is neither implicans nor impli   cate nor co-disjunct nor co-alternate to g.   5. {dy c)\ /is co-alternate but not co-disjunct to $r,   6. {Cyd): /isco-disjunctbutnotco-alternateto$^.   7. {Cjd)'. p is co-disjunct and co-alternate to q,     p is co-implicant to q  p is super-implicant to q.  p is sub-implicant to q.   p is independent of q     p is sub-opponent to q  p is super-opponent to q,  p is co-opponent to q,   Here the symmetry indicated by the prefixes, co-,  super-, sub-, is brought out by reading downwards and  upwards to the middle line representing independence.  In this order the propositional forms range from the  supreme degree of consistency to the supreme degree  of opponency, as regards the relation of/ to ^. In tradi-  tional logic the seven forms of relation are known respec-  tively by the names equipollent, superaltern, subaltern,  independent, sub-contrary, contrary, contradictory. This  latter terminology, however, is properly used to express  the formal relations of implication and opposition,  whereas the terminology which I have adopted will apply  indifferently both for formal and for material relations.

 One of Grice’s claims to fame is his paradox, under ‘Yog and Zog.’ Another paradox that Grice examines at length is paradox by Moore. For Grice, unlike Nowell-Smith, an utterer who, by uttering The cat is on the mat explicitly conveys that the cat is on the mat does not thereby implicitly convey that he believes that the cat is on the mat. He, more crucially expresses that he believes that the cat is on the mat ‒ and this is not cancellable. He occasionally refers to Moores paradox in the buletic mode, Close the door even if thats not my desire. An imperative still expresses someones desire. The sergeant who orders his soldiers to muster at dawn because he is following the lieutenants order. Grices first encounter with paradox remains his studying Malcolms misleading exegesis of Moore. Refs.: The main sources given under ‘heterologicality,’ above. ‘Paradox’ is a good keyword in The H. P. Grice Papers, since he used ‘paradox’ to describe his puzzle about ‘if,’ but also Malcolm on Moore on the philosopher’s paradox, and paradoxes of material implication and paradoxes of entailment. Grice’s point is that a paradox is not something false. For Strawson it is. “The so-called paradoxes of ‘entailment’ and ‘material implication’ are a misnomer. They statements are not paradoxical, they are false.” Not for Grice! Cf. aporia. The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC MSS 90/135c, The Bancroft Library, University of California, Berkeley.

perceptum: the traditional distinction is perceptum-conceptum: nihil est in intellectu quod prius non fuerit in sensu. this is Grice on sense-datum. Grice feels that the kettle is hot; Grice sees that the kettle is hot; Grice perceives that the kettle is hot. WoW:251 uses this example. It may be argued that the use of ‘see’ is there NOT factive. Cf. “I feel hot but it’s not hot.” Grice modifies the thing to read, “DIRECTLY PERCEIVING”: Grice only indirectly perceives that the kettle is hot’ if what he is doing is ‘seeing’ that the kettle is hot. When Grice sees that the kettle is hot, it is a ‘secondary’ usage of ‘see,’ because it means that Grice perceives that the kettle has some visual property that INDICATES the presence of hotness (Grice uses phi for the general formula). Cf. sensum. Lewis and Short have “sentĭo,” which they render, aptly, as “to sense,” ‘to discern by the senses; to feel, hear, see, etc.; to perceive, be sensible of (syn. percipio).” Note that Price is also cited by Grice in Personal identity. Grice: That pillar box seems red to me. The locus classicus in the philosophical literature for Grices implicatum. Grice introduces a dout-or-denial condition for an utterance of a phenomenalist report (That pillar-box seems red to me). Grice attacks neo-Wittgensteinian approaches that regard the report as _false_. In a long excursus on implication, he compares the phenomenalist report with utterances like He has beautiful handwriting (He is hopeless at philosophy), a particularised conversational implicatum; My wife is in the kitchen or the garden (I have non-truth-functional grounds to utter this), a generalised conversational implicatum; She was poor but she was honest (a Great-War witty (her poverty and her honesty contrast), a conventional implicatum; and Have you stopped beating your wife? an old Oxonian conundrum. You have been beating your wife, cf. Smith has not ceased from eating iron, a presupposition. More importantly, he considers different tests for each concoction! Those for the conversational implicatum will become crucial: cancellability, calculability, non-detachability, and indeterminacy. In the proceedings he plays with something like the principle of conversational helpfulness, as having a basis on a view of conversation as rational co-operation, and as giving the rationale to the implicatum. Past the excursus, and back to the issue of perception, he holds a conservative view as presented by Price at Oxford. One interesting reprint of Grices essay is in Daviss volume on Causal theories, since this is where it belongs! White’s response is usually ignored, but shouldnt. White is an interesting Australian philosopher at Oxford who is usually regarded as a practitioner of ordinary-language philosophy. However, in his response, White hardly touches the issue of the implicature with which Grice is primarily concerned. Grice found that a full reprint from the PAS in a compilation also containing the James Harvard would be too repetitive. Therefore, he omits the excursus on implication. However, the way Grice re-formulates what that excursus covers is very interesting. There is the conversational implicatum, particularised (Smith has beautiful handwriting) and generalised (My wife is in the kitchen or in the garden). Then there is the præsuppositum, or presupposition (You havent stopped beating your wife). Finally, there is the conventional implicatum (She was poor, but she was honest). Even at Oxford, Grices implicature goes, philosophers ‒ even Oxonian philosophers ‒ use imply for all those different animals! Warnock had attended Austins Sense and Sensibilia (not to be confused with Sense and Sensibility by Austen), which Grice found boring, but Warnock didnt because Austin reviews his "Berkeley." But Warnock, for obvious reasons, preferred philosophical investigations with Grice. Warnock reminisces that Grice once tells him, and not on a Saturday morning, either, How clever language is, for they find that ordinary language does not need the concept of a visum. Grice and Warnock spent lovely occasions exploring what Oxford has as the philosophy of perception. While Grice later came to see philosophy of perception as a bit or an offshoot of philosophical psychology, the philosophy of perception is concerned with that treasured bit of the Oxonian philosophers lexicon, the sense-datum, always in the singular! The cause involved is crucial. Grice plays with an evolutionary justification of the material thing as the denotatum of a perceptual judgement. If a material thing causes the sense-datum of a nut, that is because the squarrel (or squirrel) will not be nourished by the sense datum of the nut; only by the nut! There are many other items in the Grice Collection that address the topic of perception – notably with Warnock, and criticizing members of the Ryle group like Roxbee-Cox (on vision, cf. visa ‒ taste, and perception, in general – And we should not forget that Grice contributed a splendid essay on the distinction of the senses to Butlers Analytic philosophy, which in a way, redeemed a rather old-fashioned discipline by shifting it to the idiom of the day, the philosophy of perception: a retrospective, with Warnock, the philosophy of perception, : perception, the philosophy of perception, visum. Warnock was possibly the only philosopher at Oxford Grice felt congenial enough to engage in different explorations in the so-called philosophy of perception. Their joint adventures involved the disimplicature of a visum. Grice later approached sense data in more evolutionary terms: a material thing is to be vindicated transcendentally, in the sense that it is a material thing (and not a sense datum or collection thereof) that nourishes a creature like a human. Grice was particularly grateful to Warnock. By reprinting the full symposium on “Causal theory” of perception in his influential s. of Oxford Readings in Philosophy, Warnock had spread Grices lore of implicature all over! In some parts of the draft he uses more on visa, vision, vision, with Warnock, vision. Of the five senses, Grice and Warnock are particularly interested in seeing. As Grice will put it later, see is a factive. It presupposes the existence of the event reported after the that-clause; a visum, however, as an intermediary between the material thing and the perceiver does not seem necessary in ordinary discourse. Warnock will reconsider Grices views too (On what is seen, in Sibley). While Grice uses vision, he knows he is interested in Philosophers paradox concerning seeing, notably Witters on seeing as, vision, taste and the philosophy of perception, vision, seeing. As an Oxonian philosopher, Grice was of course more interested in seeing than in vision. He said that Austin would criticise even the use of things like sensation and volition, taste, The Grice Papers, keyword: taste, the objects of the five senses, the philosophy of perception, perception, the philosophy of perception; philosophy of perception, vision, taste, perception. Mainly with Warnock. Warnock repr. Grice’s “Causal theory” in his influential Reading in Philosophy, The philosophy of perception, perception, with Warnock, with Warner; perception. Warnock learns about perception much more from Grice than from Austin, taste, The philosophy of perception, the philosophy of perception, notes with Warnock on visum, : visum, Warnock, Grice, the philosophy of perception.  Grice kept the lecture notes to a view of publishing a retrospective. Warnock recalled Grice saying, how clever language is! Grice took the offer by Harvard University Press, and it was a good thing he repr. part of “Causal theory.” However, the relevant bits for his theory of conversation as rational co-operation lie in the excursus which he omitted. What is Grices implicature: that one should consider the topic rather than the method here, being sense datum, and causation, rather than conversational helpfulness. After all, That pillar box seems red to me, does not sound very helpful. But the topic of Causal theory is central for his view of conversation as rational co-operation. Why? P₁ gets an impression of danger as caused by the danger out there. He communicates the danger to P₁, causing in P₂ some behaviour. Without causation, or causal links, the very point of offering a theory of conversation as rational co-operation seems minimized. On top, as a metaphysician, he was also concerned with cause simpliciter. He was especially proud that Price’s section on the casual theory of perception, from his Belief, had been repr. along with his essay in the influential volume by Davis on “Causal theories.” In “Actions and events,” Grice further explores cause now in connection with Greek aitia. As Grice notes, the original usage of this very Grecian item is the one we find in rebel without a cause, cause-to, rather than cause-because. The two-movement nature of causing is reproduced in the conversational exchange: a material thing causes a sense datum which causes an expression which gets communicated, thus causing a psychological state which will cause a behaviour. This causation is almost representational. A material thing or a situation cannot govern our actions and behaviours, but a re-præsentatum of it might. Govern our actions and behaviour is Grices correlate of what a team of North-Oxfordshire cricketers can do for North-Oxfordshire: what North Oxfordshire cannot do for herself, Namesly, engage in a game of cricket! In Retrospective epilogue he casts doubts on the point of his causal approach. It is a short paragraph that merits much exploration. Basically, Grice is saying his causalist approach is hardly an established thesis. He also proposes a similar serious objection to his view in Some remarks about the senses, the other essay in the philosophy of perception in Studies. As he notes, both engage with some fundamental questions in the philosophy of perception, which is hardly the same thing as saying that they provide an answer to each question! Grice: The issue with which I have 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 I think need to be examined in order to see whether or not they are sufficiently parallel to the thesis which I have been discussing to be amenable to treatment of the same general kind. Examples which occur to me are the following six. You cannot see a knife ‘as’ a knife, though you may see what is not a knife ‘as’ a knife (keyword: ‘seeing as’). When he said he ‘knew’ that the objects before him were human hands, Moore was guilty of misusing ‘know.’ For an occurrence to be properly said to have a ‘cause,’ it must be something abnormal or unusual (keyword: ‘cause’). For an action to be properly described as one for which the agent is ‘responsible,’ it must be the sort of action for which people are condemned (keyword: responsibility). What is actual is not also possible (keyword: actual). What is known by me to be the case is not also believed by me to be the case (keyword: ‘know’ – cf. Urmson on ‘scalar set’). And cf. with the extra examples he presents in “Prolegomena.” I have no doubt that there will be other candidates besides the six which I have mentioned. I must emphasize that I am not saying that all these examples are importantly similar to the thesis which I have been criticizing, only that, for all I know, they may be. To put the matter more generally, the position adopted by my objector seems to me to involve a type of manoeuvre which is characteristic of more than one contemporary mode of philosophizing. I am not condemning this kind of manoeuvre. I am 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 detectcd, we should make sure that we are reasonably clear what sort of nuances they are. “Causal theory”, knowledge and belief, knowledge, belief, philosophical psychology. Grice: the doxastic implicatum. I know only implicates I do not believe. The following is a mistake by a philosopher. What is known by me to be the case is not also believed by me to be the case. The topic had attracted the attention of some Oxonian philosophers such as Urmson in Parenthetical verbs. Urmson speaks of a scale: I know can be used parenthetically, as I believe can. For Grice, to utter I believe is obviously to make a weaker conversational move than you would if you utter I know. And in this case, an approach to informativeness in terms of entailment is in order, seeing that I know entails I believe. A is thus allowed to infer that the utterer is not in a position to make the stronger claim. The mechanism is explained via his principle of conversational helpfulness. Philosophers tend two over-use these two basic psychological states, attitudes, or stances. Grice is concerned with Gettier-type cases, and also the factivity of know versus the non-factivity of believe. Grice follows the lexicological innovations by Hintikka: the logic of belief is doxastic; the logic of knowledge is epistemic. The last thesis that Grice lists in Causal theory that he thinks rests on a big mistake he formulates as: What is known by me to be the case is NOT also believed by me to be the case. What are his attending remarks? Grice writes: The issue with which I have 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 I think need to be examined in order to see whether or not they are sufficiently parallel to the thesis which I have been discussing to be amenable to treatment of the same general kind. An example which occurs to me is the following: What is known by me to be the case is not also believed by me to be the case. I must emphasise that I am not saying that this example is importantly similar to the thesis which I have been criticising, only that, for all I know, it may be. To put the matter more generally, the position adopted by my objector seems to me to involve a type of manoeuvre which is characteristic of more than one contemporary mode of philosophizing. I am not condemning this kind of manoeuvre. I am 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! The ætiological implicatum. Grice. For an occurrence to be properly said to have a cause, it must be something abnormal or unusual. This is an example Grice lists in Causal theory but not in Prolegomena. But cf. ‘responsible’ – and Hart and Honoré on accusation -- accusare "call to account, make complaint against," from ad causa, from “ad,” with regard to, as in ‘ad-’) + causa, a cause; a lawsuit,’ v. cause. For an occurrence to be properly said to have a cause, it must be something abnormal or unusual. Similar commentary to his example on responsible/condemnable apply. The objector may stick with the fact that he is only concerned with proper utterances. Surely Grice wants to go to a pre-Humeian account of causation, possible Aristotelian, aetiologia. Where everything has a cause, except, for Aristotle, God! What are his attending remarks? Grice writes: The issue with which I have 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 I think need to be examined in order to see whether or not they are sufficiently parallel to the thesis which I have been discussing to be amenable to treatment of the same general kind. An example which occurs to me is the following: What is known by me to be the case is not also believed by me to be the case. 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 my objector seems to me to involve a type of manoeuvre which is characteristic of more than one contemporary mode of philosophising. I am not condemning this kind of manoeuvre. I am 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! Causal theory, cause, causality, causation, conference, colloquium, Stanford, cause, metaphysics, the abnormal/unusual implicatum, ætiology, ætiological implicatum. Grice: the ætiological implicatum. Grices explorations on cause are very rich. He is concerned with some alleged misuse of cause in ordinary language. If as Hume suggests, to cause is to will, one would say that the decapitation of Charles I wills his death, which sounds harsh, if not ungrammatical, too. Grice later relates cause to the Greek aitia, as he should. He notes collocations like rebel without a cause. For the Greeks, or Grecians, as he called them, and the Griceians, it is a cause to which one should be involved in elucidating.  A ‘cause to’ connects with the idea of freedom. Grice was constantly aware of the threat of mechanism, and his idea was to provide philosophical room for the idea of finality, which is not mechanistically derivable. This leads him to discussion of overlap and priority of, say, a physical-cum-physiological versus a psychological theory explaining this or that piece of rational behaviour. Grice can be Wittgensteinian when citing Anscombes translation: No psychological concept without the behaviour the concept is brought to explain.  It is best to place his later treatment of cause with his earlier one in Causal theory. It is surprising Grice does not apply his example of a mistake by a philosopher to the causal bit of his causal theory. Grice states the philosophical mistake as follows: For an occurrence to be properly said to have a cause, it must be something abnormal or unusual. This is an example Grice lists in Causal theory but not in Prolegomena. For an occurrence to be properly said to have a cause, it must be something abnormal or unusual. A similar commentary to his example on responsible/condemnable applies: The objector may stick with the fact that he is only concerned with PROPER utterances. Surely Grice wants to embrace a pre-Humeian account of causation, possible Aristotelian. Keyword: Aitiologia, where everything has a cause, except, for Aristotle, God! What are his attending remarks? Grice writes: The issue with which I have 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 Grice 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. One example which occurs to Grice is the following: For an occurrence to be properly said to have a cause, it must be something abnormal or unusual. Grice feels he must emphasise that he is 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 my objector seems to me to involve a type of manoeuvre which is characteristic of more than one contemporary mode of philosophizing. I am not condemning this kind of manoeuvre. I am 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! Re: responsibility/condemnation. Cf. Mabbott, Flew on punishment, Philosophy. And also Hart. At Corpus, Grice enjoys his tutor Hardies resourcefulness in the defence of what may be a difficult position, a characteristic illustrated by an incident which Hardie himself once told Grice about himself. Hardie had parked his car and gone to a cinema. Unfortunately, Hardie had parked his car on top of one of the strips on the street by means of which traffic-lights were, at the time, controlled by the passing traffic. As a result, the lights are jammed, and it requires four policemen to lift Hardies car off the strip. The police decides to prosecute. Grice indicated to Hardie that this hardly surprised him and asked him how he fared. Oh, Hardie says, I got off. Then Grice asks Hardie how on earth he managed that! Quite simply, Hardie answers. I just invoked Mills method of difference. The police charged me with causing an obstruction at 4 p.m. I told the police that, since my car was parked at 2 p.m., it could not have been my car which caused the obstruction at 4 p.m. This relates to an example in Causal theory that he Grice does not discuss in Prolegomena, but which may relate to Hart, and closer to Grice, to Mabbotts essay on Flew on punishment, in Philosophy. Grice states the philosophical mistake as follows: For an action to be properly described as one for which the agent is responsible, it must be thc sort of action for which people are condemned. As applied to Hardie. Is Hardie irresponsible? In any case, while condemnable, he was not! Grice writes: The issue with which I have 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 I think need to be examined in order to see whether or not they are sufficiently parallel to the thesis which I have been discussing to be amenable to treatment of the same general kind. An example which occurs to me is the following: For an action to be properly described as one for which the agent is responsible, it must be the sort of action for which people are condemned. 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 my objector seems to me to involve a type of manoeuvre which is characteristic of more than one contemporary mode of philosophizing. I am not condemning this kind of manoeuvre. I am 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. The modal example, what is actual is not also possible, should discussed under Indicative conditonals, Grice on Macbeth’s implicature: seeing a dagger as a dagger. Grice elaborates on this in Prolegomena, but the austerity of Causal theory is charming, since he does not give a quote or source. Obviously, Witters. Grice writes: Witters might say that one cannot see a knife as a knife, though one may see what is not a knife as a knife. The issue, Grice notes, with which I have 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 I think need to be examined in order to see whether or not they are sufficiently parallel to the thesis which I have been discussing to be amenable to treatment of the same general kind. An example which occurs to Grice is the following: You cannot see a knife as a knife, though you may see what is not a knife as a knife. Grice feels that he must emphasise that he is 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 my objector seems to me to involve a type of manoeuvre which is characteristic of more than one contemporary mode of philosophizing. I am not condemning this kind of manoeuvre. I am 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! Is this a dagger which I see before me, the handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible to feeling as to sight? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? I see thee yet, in form as palpable as this which now I draw. Thou marshallst me the way that I was going; and such an instrument I was to use. Mine eyes are made the fools o the other senses, Or else worth all the rest; I see thee still, and on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood, which was not so before. Theres no such thing: It is the bloody business which informs Thus to mine eyes. Now oer the one halfworld Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse The curtaind sleep; witchcraft celebrates Pale Hecates offerings, and witherd murder, Alarumd by his sentinel, the wolf, Whose howls his watch, thus with his stealthy pace. With Tarquins ravishing strides, towards his design Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth, Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear Thy very stones prate of my whereabout, And take the present horror from the time, Which now suits with it. Whiles I threat, he lives: Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives. I go, and it is done; the bell invites me. Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell that summons thee to heaven or to hell. The Moore example is used both in “Causal theory” and “Prolegomena.” But the use in “Causal Theory” is more austere: Philosophers mistake: Malcolm: When Moore said he knew that the objects before him were human hands, he was guilty of misusing the word know. Grice writes: The issue with which I have 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 I think need to be examined in order to see whether or not they are sufficiently parallel to the thesis which I have been discussing to be amenable to treatment of the same general kind. An example which occurs to me is the following: When Moore said he knew that the objects before him were human hands, he was guilty of misusing the word know. 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 my objector seems to me to involve a type of manoeuvre which is characteristic of more than one contemporary mode of philosophizing. I am not condemning this kind of manoeuvre. Grice 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! So surely Grice is meaning: I know that the objects before me are human hands as uttered by Moore is possibly true. Grice was amused by the fact that while at Madison, Wisc., Moore gave the example: I know that behind those curtains there is a window. Actually he was wrong, as he soon realised when the educated Madisonians corrected him with a roar of unanimous laughter. You see, the lecture hall of the University of Wisconsin at Madison is a rather, shall we say, striking space. The architect designed the lecture hall with a parapet running around the wall just below the ceiling, cleverly rigged with indirect lighting to create the illusion that sun light is pouring in through windows from outside. So, Moore comes to give a lecture one sunny day. Attracted as he was to this eccentric architectural detail, Moore gives an illustration of certainty as attached to common sense. Pointing to the space below the ceiling, Moore utters. We know more things than we think we know. I know, for example, that the sunlight shining in from outside proves  At which point he was somewhat startled (in his reserved Irish-English sort of way) when his audience burst out laughing! Is that a proof of anything? Grice is especially concerned with I seem He needs a paradeigmatic sense-datum utterance, and intentionalist as he was, he finds it in I seem to see a red pillar box before me. He is relying on Paul. Grice would generalise a sense datum by φ I seem to perceive that the alpha is phi. He agrees that while cause may be too much, any sentence using because will do: At a circus: You seem to be seeing that an elephant is coming down the street because an elephant is coming down the street. Grice found the causalist theory of perception particularly attractive since its objection commits one same mistake twice: he mischaracterises the cancellable implicatum of both seem and cause! While Grice is approaching the philosophical item in the philosophical lexicon, perceptio, he is at this stage more interested in vernacular that- clauses such as sensing that, or even more vernacular ones like seeming that, if not seeing that! This is of course philosophical (cf. aesthetikos vs. noetikos). L and S have “perceptĭo,” f. perceptio, as used by Cicero (Ac. 2, 7, 22) translating catalepsis, and which they render as “a taking, receiving; a gathering in, collecting;’ frugum fruetuumque reliquorum, Cic. Off. 2, 3, 12: fructuum;’ also as perception, comprehension, cf.: notio, cognition; animi perceptiones, notions, ideas; cognitio aut perceptio, aut si verbum e verbo volumus comprehensio, quam κατάληψιν illi vocant; in philosophy, direct apprehension of an object by the mind, Zeno Stoic.1.20, Luc. Par. 4, al.; τῶν μετεώρων;” ἀκριβὴς κ. Certainty; pl., perceptions, Stoic.2.30, Luc. Herm.81, etc.; introduced into Latin by Cicero, Plu. Cic. 40. As for “causa” Grice is even more sure he was exploring a time-honoured philosophical topic. The entry in L and S is “causa,’ perh. root “cav-“ of “caveo,” prop. that which is defended or protected; cf. “cura,” and that they render as, unhelpfully, as “cause,” “that by, on account of, or through which any thing takes place or is done;” “a cause, reason, motive, inducement;” also, in gen., an occasion, opportunity; oeffectis;  factis, syn. with ratio, principium, fons, origo, caput; excusatio, defensio; judicium, controversia, lis; partes, actio; condicio, negotium, commodum, al.); correlated to aition, or aitia, cause, δι᾽ ἣν αἰτίην ἐπολέμησαν,” cf. Pl. Ti. 68e, Phd. 97a sq.; on the four causes of Arist. v. Ph. 194b16, Metaph. 983a26: αἰ. τοῦ γενέσθαι or γεγονέναι Pl. Phd. 97a; τοῦ μεγίστου ἀγαθοῦ τῇ πόλει αἰτία ἡ κοινωνία Id. R. 464b: αἰτίᾳ for the sake of, κοινοῦ τινος ἀγαθοῦ.” Then there is “αἴτιον” (cf. ‘αἴτιος’) is used like “αἰτία” in the sense of cause, not in that of ‘accusation.’ Grice goes back to perception at a later stage, reminiscing on his joint endeavours with akin Warnock, Ps karulise elatically, potching and cotching obbles, Pirotese, Pirotese, creature construction, philosophical psychology. Grice was fascinated by Carnaps Ps which karulise elatically. Grice adds potching for something like perceiving and cotching for something like cognising. With his essay Some remarks about the senses, Grice introduces the question by which criterion we distinguish our five senses into the contemporary philosophy of perception. The literature concerning this question is not very numerous but the discussion is still alive and was lately inspired by the volume The Senses2. There are four acknowledged possible answers to the question how we distinguish the senses, all of them already stated by Grice. First, the senses are distinguished by the properties we perceive by them. Second, the senses are distinguished by the phenomenal qualities of the perception itself or as Grice puts it “by the special introspectible character of the experiences” Third, the senses are distinguished by the physical stimuli that are responsible for the relevant perceptions. Fourth, The senses are distinguished by the sense-organs that are (causally) involved in the production of the relevant perceptions. Most contributions discussing this issue reject the third and fourth answers in a very short argumentation. Nearly all philosophers writing on the topic vote either for the first or the second answer. Accordingly, most part of the debate regarding the initial question takes the form of a dispute between these two positions. Or” was a big thing in Oxford philosophy. The only known published work of Wood, our philosophy tutor at Christ Church, was an essay in Mind, the philosophers journal, entitled “Alternative Uses of “Or” ”, a work which was every bit as indeterminate as its title. Several years later he published another paper, this time for the Aristotelian Society, entitled On being forced to a conclusion. Cf. Grice and Wood on the demands of conversational reason. Wood, The force of linguistic rules. Wood, on the implicatum of or in review in Mind of Connor, Logic. The five senses, as Urmson notes, are to see that the sun is shining, to hear that the car collided, to feel that her pulse is beating, to smell that something has been smoking and to taste that. An interesting piece in that it was commissioned by Butler, who knew Grice from his Oxford days. Grice cites Wood and Albritton. Grice is concerned with a special topic in the philosophy of perception, notably the identification of the traditional five senses: vision, audition, taste, smell, and tact. He introduces what is regarded in the philosophical literature as the first thought-experiment, in terms of the senses that Martians may have. They have two pairs of eyes: are we going to allow that they see with both pairs? Grice introduces a sub-division of seeing: a Martian x-s an object with his upper pair of eyes, but he y-s an object with the lower pair of eyes. In his exploration, he takes a realist stance, which respects the ordinary discursive ways to approach issues of perception. A second interesting point is that in allowing this to be repr. in Butlers Analytic philosophy, Grice is demonstrating that analytic philosophers should NOT be obsessed with ordinary language. Butlers compilation, a rather dry one, is meant as a response to the more linguistic oriented ones by Flew (Grices first tutee at St. Johns, as it happens), also published by Blackwell, and containing pieces by Austin, and company. One philosopher who took Grice very seriously on this was Coady, in his The senses of the Martians. Grice provides a serious objection to his own essay in Retrospective epilogue We see with our eyes. I.e. eye is teleologically defined. He notes that his way of distinguishing the senses is hardly an established thesis. Grice actually advances this topic in his earlier Causal theory. Grice sees nothing absurd in the idea that a non-specialist concept should contain, so to speak, a blank space to be filled in by the specialist; that this is so, e.g., in the case of the concept of seeing is perhaps indicated by the consideration that if we were in doubt about the correctness of speaking of a certain creature with peculiar sense-organs as seeing objects, we might well wish to hear from a specialist a comparative account of the human eye and the relevant sense-organs of the creature in question. He returns to the point in Retrospective epilogue with a bit of doxastic humility, We see with our eyes is analytic  ‒ but philosophers should take that more seriously.  Grice tested the playmates of his children, aged 7 and 9, with Nothing can be green and red all over. Instead, Morley Bunker preferred philosophy undergrads. Aint that boring? To give examples: Summer follows Spring was judged analytic by Morley-Bunkers informants, as cited by Sampson, in Making sense (Clarendon) by highly significant majorities in each group of Subjectss, while We see with our eyes was given near-even split votes by each group. Over all, the philosophers were somewhat more consistent with each other than the non-philosophers. But that global finding conceals results for individual sentences that sometimes manifested the opposed tendency. Thus, Thunderstorms are electrical disturbances in the atmosphere is judged analytic by a highly significant majority of the non-philosophers, while a non-significant majority of the philosophers deemed it non-analytic or synthetic. In this case, it seems, philosophical training, surely not brain-washing, induces the realisation that well-established results of contemporary science are not necessary truths. In other cases, conversely, cliches of current philosophical education impose their own mental blinkers on those who undergo it: Nothing can be completely red and green all over is judged analytic by a significant majority of philosophers but only by a non-significant majority of non-philosophers. All in all, the results argue strongly against the notion that our inability to decide consistently whether or not some statement is a necessary truth derives from lack of skill in articulating our underlying knowledge of the rules of our language. Rather, the inability comes from the fact that the question as posed is unreal. We choose to treat a given statement as open to question or as unchallengeable in the light of the overall structure of beliefs which we have individually evolved in order to make sense of our individual experience. Even the cases which seem clearly analytic or synthetic are cases which individuals judge alike because the relevant experiences are shared by the whole community, but even for such cases one can invent hypothetical or suppositional future experiences which, if they should be realised, would cause us to revise our judgements. This is not intended to call into question the special status of the truths of logic, such as either Either it is raining or it is not. He is of course inclined to accept the traditional view according to which logical particles such as not and or are distinct from the bulk of the vocabulary in that the former really are governed by clear-cut inference rules. Grice does expand on the point. Refs.: Under sense-datum, there are groups of essays. The obvious ones are the two essays on the philosophy of perception in WOW. A second group relates to his research with G. J. Warnock, where the keywords are ‘vision,’ ‘taste,’ and ‘perception,’ in general. There is a more recent group with this research with R. Warner. ‘Visum’ and ‘visa’ are good keywords, and cf. the use of ‘senses’ in “Some remarks about the senses,” in BANC.

philosophical: Grice held a MA (Lit. Hum.) – Literae Humaniores (Philosophy). So he knew what he was talking about. The curriculum was an easy one. He plays with the fact that empiricists don’t regard philosophy as a sovereign monarch: philosophia regina scientiarum, provided it’s queen consort. In “Conceptual analysis and the province of philosophy,” he plays with the idea that Philosophy is the Supreme Science. Grice was somewhat obsessed as to what ‘philosohical’ stood for, which amused the members of his play group! His play group once spends five weeks in an effort to explain why, sometimes, ‘very’ allows, with little or no change of meaning, the substitution of ‘highly’ (as in ‘very unusual’) and sometimes does not (as in ‘very depressed’ or ‘very wicked’); and we reached no conclusion. This episode was ridiculed by some as an ultimate embodiment of fruitless frivolity. But that response is as out of place as a similar response to the medieval question, ‘How many angels can dance on a needle’s point?’” A needless point?For much as this medieval question is raised in order to display, in a vivid way, a difficulty in the conception of an immaterial substance, so The Play Group discussion is directed, in response to a worry from me, towards an examination, in the first instance, of a conceptual question which is generally agreed among us to be a strong candidate for being a question which had no philosophical importance, with a view to using the results of this examination in finding a distinction between philosophically important and philosophically unimportant enquiries. Grice is fortunate that the Lit. Hum. programme does not have much philosophy! He feels free! In fact, the lack of a philosophical background is felt as a badge of honour. It is ‘too clever’ and un-English to ‘know’ things. A pint of philosophy is all Grice wanted. Figurative. This is Harvardite Gordon’s attempt to formulate a philosophy of the minimum fundamental ideas that all people on the earth should come to know. Reviewed by A. M. Honoré: Short measure. Gordon, a Stanley Plummer scholar, e: Bowdoin and Harvard, in The Eastern Gazette. Grice would exclaim: I always loved Alfred Brooks Gordon! Grice was slightly disapppointed that Gordon had not included the fundamental idea of implicature in his pint. Short measure, indeed. Grice gives seminars on Ariskant (“the first part of this individual interested some of my tutees; the second, others.” Ariskant philosophised in Grecian, but also in the pure Teutonic, and Grice collaborated with Baker in this area. Curiously, Baker majors in French and philosophy and does research at the Sorbonne. Grice would sometimes define ‘philoosphy.’ Oddly, Grice gives a nice example of ‘philosopher’ meaning ‘addicted to general, usually stoic, reflections about life.’ In the context where it occurs, the implicatum is Stevensonian. If Stevenson says that an athlete is usually tall, a philosopher may occasionally be inclined to reflect about life in general, as a birrelist would. Grice’s gives an alternate meaning, intended to display circularity: ‘engaged in philosophical studies.’ The idea of Grice of philosophy is the one the Lit. Hum. instills.  It is a unique experience, unknown in the New World, our actually outside Oxford, or post-Grice, where a classicist is not seen as a philosopher. Once a tutorial fellow in philosophy (rather than classics) and later university lecturer in philosophy (rather than classics) strengthens his attachment. Grice needs to regarded by his tutee as a philosopher simpliciter, as oppoosed to a prof: the Waynflete is a metaphysician; the White is a moralist, the Wykeham a logician, and the Wilde a ‘mental’. For Grice’s “greatest living philosopher,” Heidegger, ‘philosophy’ is a misnomer. While philology merely discourses (logos) on love, the philosopher claims to be a wizard (sophos) of love. Liddell and Scott have “φιλοσοφία,” which they render as “love of knowledge, pursuit thereof, speculation,” “ἡ φ. κτῆσις ἐπιστήμης.” Then there’s “ἡ πρώτη φ.,” with striking originality, metaphysic, Arist. Metaph. 1026a24. Just one sense, but various ambiguities remain in ‘philosopher,’ as per Grice’s two  usages. As it happens, Grice is both addicted to general, usually stoic, speculations about life, and he is a member of The Oxford Philosophical Society.Refs.: The main sources in the Grice Papers are under series III, of the doctrines. See also references under ‘lingusitic botany,’ and Oxonianism. Grice liked to play with the adage of ‘philosophia’ as ‘regina scientiarum.’ A specific essay in his update of “post-war Oxford philosophy,” in WoW on “Conceptual analysis and the province of philosophy,” BANC.

physiological. In “Some remarks about the senses,” Grice distinguishes a physicalist identification of the senses (in terms of the different stimuli and the mechanisms that connects the organs to the brain) versus other criteria, notably one involving introspection and the nature of ‘experience’ – “providing,” he adds, that ‘seeing’ is an experience! Grice would use ‘natural,’ relying on the idea that it’s Grecian ‘physis.’ Liddell and Scott have “φύσις,” from “φύω,” and which they render as “origin.” the natural form or constitution of a person or thing as the result of growth, and hence nature, constitution, and nature as an originating power, “φ. λέγεται . . ὅθεν ἡ κίνησις ἡ πρώτη ἐν ἑκάστῳ τῶν φύσει ὄντων” Arist.Metaph.1014b16; concrete, the creation, 'Nature.’ Grice is casual in his use of ‘natural’ versus ‘non-natural’ in 1948 for the Oxford Philosophical Society. In later works, there’s a reference to naturalism, which is more serious. Refs.: The keyword should be ‘naturalism,’ but also Grice’s diatribes against ‘physicalism,’ and of course the ‘natural’ and ‘non-natural,’ BANC.

playgroup: The term was meant ironically. The playgroup activities smack of military or civil service!  while this can be safely called Grice’s playgroup, it was founded by Austin at All Souls, where it had only seven members. After the war, Grice joined in. The full list is found elsewhere. With Austin’s death, Grice felt the responsibility to continue with it, and plus, he enjoyed it! In alphabetical order. It is this group that made history.  J. L. Austin, A. G. N. Flew, P. L. Gardiner, H. P. Grice, S. N. Hampshire, R. M. Hare, H. L. A. Hart,  P. H. Nowell-Smith, G. A. Paul, D. F. Pears, P. F. Strawson, J. F. Thomson, J. O. Urmson, G. J. Warnock, A. D. Woozley. Grice distinguishes it very well from Ryle’s group, and the group of neo-Wittgensteinians. And those three groups were those only involved with ‘ordinary language.’

principle. Grice. Principle of conversational helpfulness. “I call it ‘principle,’ echoing Boethius.”Mention should also he made of Boethius’ conception, that there are certain principles, sentences which have no demonstration — probatio — which he calls principales propositiones or probationis principia. Here is the fragment from his Commentary on Topics treating of principles; El iliac quidem (propositiones) quarum nulla probatio est, maximae ac principales vocantur, quod his illas necesse est approbari, quae ut demonstrari valeant, non recusant/ est auteni maxima proposiiio ut liaec « si de aequalibus aequalia demas, quae derelinquitur aequalia sunt », ita enim hoc per se notion est, ut aliud notius quo approbari valeat esse non possit; quae proposi- tiones cum (idem sui natura propria gerant, non solum alieno ad (idem non egent argumento, oerum ceteris quoque probationis sclent esse principium; igitur per se notae propositiones, quibus nihil est notius, indemonstrabiles ac maxime et principales vocantur (“Indeed those sentences that have no demonstration are called maximum or principal [sentences], because they are not rejected since they are necessary to those that have to be demonstrated and which are valid for making a demonstration ; but a maximum sentence such as « if from equal [quantifies], equal [quantities] are taken, what is left are equal [quantities]*, is self- evident, and there is nothing which can be better known self-evidently valid, and self- demonstrating, therefore they are sentences containing their certitude in their very nature and not only do they need no additional argument to demonstrate their certitude, but are also the principles of demonstration of the other [sentences]; so they are, self-evident sen- tences, nothing being better known than they are, and are called undemonstrable or maxi- mum and principal”). Boethius’ idea coincides with Aristotle’s; deduction must start from somewhere, we must begin with something unproved. The Stagirite, how- ever, gave an explanation of the existence of principles and the possibility of their being grasjied by the active intellect, whereas with Boethius princi- ples appear as severed from the sentences demonstrated in a more formal manner: there are two kinds of sentences: some which are demonstrable and others which need no demonstration

practical reason: In “Epilogue” Grice states that the principle of conversational rationality is a sub-principle of the principle of rationality, simpliciter, which is not involved with ‘communication’ per se. This is an application of Occam’s razor: Rationalities are not to be multiplied beyond necessity.” This motto underlies his aequi-vocality thesis: one reason: desiderative side, judicative side. Literally, ‘practical reason’ is the buletic part of the soul (psyche) that deals with praxis, where the weighing is central. We dont need means-end rationality, we need value-oriented rationality. We dont need the rationality of the means – this is obvious --. We want the rationality of the ends. The end may justify the means. But Grice is looking for what justifies the end. The topic of freedom fascinated Grice, because it merged the practical with the theoretical. Grice sees the conception of freedom as crucial in his elucidation of a rational being. Conditions of freedom are necessary for the very idea, as Kant was well aware. A thief who is forced to steal is just a thief. Grice would engage in a bit of language botany, when exploring the ways the adjective free is used, freely, in ordinary language: free fall, alcohol-free, sugar-free, and his favourite: implicature-free. Grices more systematic reflections deal with Pology, or creature construction. A vegetals, for example is less free than an animal, but more free than a stone! And Humans are more free than non-human. Grice wants to deal with some of the paradoxes identified by Kant about freedom, and he succeeds in solving some of them. There is a section on freedom in Action and events for PPQ  where he expands on eleutheria and notes the idiocy of a phrase like free fall. Grice was irritated by the fact that his friend Hart wrote an essay on liberty and not on freedom, cf. praxis. Refs.: essays on ‘practical reason,’ and “Aspects,” in BANC.

Predicabilia. Something Grice knew by heart from giving seminars at Oxfrod on Aristotle’s categories with Austin and Strawson. He found the topic boring enough to give the seminar ALONE!

prædicatum: vide subjectification, and subjectum. Of especial interest to Grice and Strawson. Lewis and Short have “praedīco,” which they render as “to say or mention before or beforehand, to premise.” Grice as a modista is interested in parts of speech: nomen (onoma) versus verbum (rhema) being the classical, since Plato. The mediaeval modistae like Alcuin adapted Aristotle, and Grice follows suit. Of particular relevance are the ‘syncategoremata,’ since Grice was obsessed with particles, and we cannot say that ‘and’ is a predicate! This relates to the ‘categorema.’ Liddell and Scott have “κατηγόρ-ημα,” which they render as “accusation, charge,” Gorg.Pal.22; but in philosophy, as “predicate,” as per Arist.Int.20b32, Metaph.1053b19, etc.; -- “οὐκ εὔοδον τὸ ἁπλοῖν ἐστι κ.” Epicur.Fr.18. – and as “head of predicables,” in Arist.Metaph.1028a33,Ph.201a1,  Zeno Stoic.1.25, etc.; περὶ κατηγορημάτων Sphaer.ib.140. The term syncategorema comes from a passage of Priscian in his Institutiones grammatice II , 15. “coniunctae plenam faciunt orationem, alias autem partes, κατηγορήματα, hoc est consignificantia, appellabant.” A distinction is made between two types of word classes ("partes orationis," singular, "pars orationis") distinguished by philosophers since Plato, viz. nouns (nomen, onoma) and verbs (verbum, rhema) on the one hand, and a  'syncategorema or consignificantium. A consignificantium, just as the unary functor "non," and any of the three dyadic functors, "et," "vel" (or "aut") and "si," does not have a definitive meaning on its own -- cf. praepositio, cited by Grice, -- "the meaning of 'to,' the meaning of 'of,'" -- rather, they acquire meaning in combination or when con-joined to one or more categorema. It is one thing to say that we employ a certain part of speech when certain conditions are fulfilled and quite another to claim that the role in the language of that part of speech is to say, even in an extended sense, that those conditions are fulfilled. In Logic, the verb 'kategoreo' is 'predicate of a person or thing,' “τί τινος” Arist.Cat.3a19,al., Epicur.Fr.250; κυρίως, καταχρηστικῶς κ., Phld.Po.5.15; “ἐναντίως ὑπὲρ τῶν αὐτῶν” Id.Oec.p.60 J.: —more freq. in Pass., to be predicated of . . , τινος Arist.Cat.2a21, APr. 26b9, al.; “κατά τινος” Id.Cat.2a37; “κατὰ παντὸς ἢ μηδενός” Id.APr.24a15: less freq. “ἐπί τινος” Id.Metaph.998b16, 999a15; so later “ἐφ᾽ ἑνὸς οἴονται θεοῦ ἑκάτερον τῶν ὀνομάτων -εῖσθαι” D.H.2.48; “περί τινος” Arist. Top.140b37; “τὸ κοινῇ -ούμενον ἐπὶ πᾶσιν” Id.SE179a8: abs., τὸ κατηγορούμενον the predicate, opp. τὸ ὑποκείμενον (the subject), Id.Cat.1b11, cf.Metaph.1043a6, al.; κατηγορεῖν καὶ -εῖσθαι to be subject and predicate, Id.APr.47b1. BANC.

prejudices: the life and opinions of H. P. Grice, by H. P. Grice! PGRICE had been in the works for a while. Knowing this, Grice is able to start his auto-biography, or memoir, to which he later adds a specific reply to this or that objection by the editors. The reply is divided in neat sections. After a preamble displaying his gratitude for the volume in his honour, Grice turns to his prejudices and predilections; which become, the life and opinions of H. P. Grice. The third section is a reply to the editorss overview of his work. This reply itself is itself subdivided into questions of meaning and rationality, and questions of Met. , philosophical psychology, and value. As the latter is repr. in “Conception” it is possible to cite this sub-section from the Reply as a separate piece. Grice originally entitles his essay in a brilliant manner, echoing the style of an English non-conformist, almost: Prejudices and predilections; which become, the life and opinions of H. P. Grice. With his Richards, a nice Welsh surNames, Grice is punning on the first Names of both Grandy and Warner. Grice is especially concerned with what Richards see as an ontological commitment on Grices part to the abstract, yet poorly individuated entity of a proposition. Grice also deals with the alleged insufficiency in his conceptual analysis of reasoning. He brings for good measure a point about a potential regressus ad infinitum in his account of a chain of intentions involved in meaning that p and communicating that p. Even if one of the drafts is titled festschrift, not by himself, this is not strictly a festschrift in that Grices Names is hidden behind the acronym: PGRICE. Notably on the philosophy of perception. Also in “Conception,” especially that tricky third lecture on a metaphysical foundation for objective value. Grice is supposed to reply to the individual contributors, who include Strawson, but does not. I cancelled the implicatum! However, we may identify in his oeuvre points of contacts of his own views with the philosophers who contributed, notably Strawson. Most of this material is reproduced verbatim, indeed, as the second part of his Reply to Richards, and it is a philosophical memoir of which Grice is rightly proud. The life and opinions are, almost in a joke on Witters, distinctly separated. Under Life, Grice convers his conservative, irreverent rationalism making his early initial appearance at Harborne under the influence of his non-conformist father, and fermented at his tutorials with Hardie at Corpus, and his associations with Austins play group on Saturday mornings, and some of whose members he lists alphabetically: Austin, Gardiner, Grice, Hampshire, Hare, Hart, Nowell-Smith, Paul, Pears, Strawson, Thomson, Urmson, and Warnock.  Also, his joint philosophising with Austin, Pears, Strawson, Thomson, and Warnock. Under Opinions, Grice expands mainly on ordinary-language philosophy and his Bunyanesque way to the City of Eternal Truth. Met. , Philosophical Psychology, and Value, in “Conception,” is thus part of his Prejudices and predilections. The philosophers Grice quotes are many and varied, such as Bosanquet and Kneale, and from the other place, Keynes. Grice spends some delightful time criticising the critics of ordinary-language philosophy such as Bergmann (who needs an English futilitarian?) and Gellner. He also quotes from Jespersen, who was "not a philosopher but wrote a philosophy of grammar!" And Grice includes a reminiscence of the bombshells brought from Vienna by the enfant terrible of Oxford philosophy Freddie Ayer, after being sent to the Continent by Ryle. He recalls an air marshal at a dinner with Strawson at Magdalen relishing on Cook Wilsons adage, What we know we know. And more besides! After reminiscing for Clarendon, Grice will go on to reminisce for Harvard University Press in the closing section of the Retrospective epilogue. Refs.: The main source is “Reply to Richards,” and references to Oxonianism, and linguistic botanising, BANC.

prescriptivism:  Surely there are for Grice at least two different modes, the buletic, which tends towards the prescriptive, and the doxastic, which is mostly ‘descriptive.’ One has to be careful because Grice thinks that what a philosopher like Strawson does with ‘descriptive’ expression (like ‘true,’ ‘know’ and ‘good’) and talk of pseudo-descriptive. What is that gives the buletic a ‘prescritive’ or deontic ring to it? This is Kant’s question. Grice kept a copy of Foots on morality as a system of hypothetical imperatives. “So Somervillian Oxonian it hurts!”. Grice took virtue ethics more seriously than the early Hare. Hare will end up a virtue ethicist, since he changed from a meta-ethicist to a moralist embracing a hedonistic version of eudaemonist utilitarianism. Grice was more Aristotelianly conservative! Unlike Hares and Grices meta-ethical sensitivities (as members of the Oxonian school of ordinary-language philosophy), Foot suggests a different approach to ethics. Grice admired Foots ability to make the right conceptual distinction. Foot is following a very Oxonian tradition best represented by the work of Warnock. Of course, Grice was over-familiar with the virtue vs. vice distinction, since Hardie had instilled it on him at Corpus! For Grice, virtue and vice (and the mesotes), display an interesting logical grammar, though. Grice would say that rationality is a virtue; fallacious reasoning is a vice. Some things Grice takes more of a moral standpoint about. To cheat is neither irrational nor unreasonble: just plain repulsive.  As such, it would be a vice ‒ mind not getting caught in its grip! Grice is concerned with vice in his account of akrasia or incontinentia. If agent A KNOWS that doing x is virtuous, yet decides to do ~x, which is vicious, A is being akratic. For Grice, akratic behaviour applies both in the buletic or boulomaic realm and in the doxastic realm. And it is part of the philosopher’s job to elucidate the conceptual intricacies attached to it. 1. prima-facie (p⊃!q) V probably (p⊃q). 2. prima-facie ((A and B) ⊃!p) V probably ( (A and B) ⊃p). 3. prima-facie ((A and B and C) ⊃!p) V probably ( (A and B and C,) ⊃p). 4. prima-facie ((all things before P V!p) V probably ((all things before P) ⊃ p). 5. prima-facie ((all things are considered ⊃ !p) V probably (all things are considered, ⊃ p). 6. !q V .q 7. Acc. Reasoning P wills that !q V Acc. Reasoning P that judges q. Refs.: The main sources under ‘meta-ethics,’ above, BANC.

Prince Maurice’s Parrot: Since I think I may be confident, that, whoever should see a creature of his own shape or make, though it had no more reason all its life than a cat or a parrot, would call him still a man; or whoever should hear a cat or a parrot discourse, reason, and philosophize, would call or think it nothing but a cat or a parrot; and say, the one was a dull irrational man, and the other a very intelligent rational parrot. A relation we have in an author of great note, is sufficient to countenance the supposition of a rational parrot. His words are: "I had a mind to know, from Prince Maurice's own mouth, the account of a common, but much credited story, that I had heard so often from many others, of an old parrot he had in Brazil, during his government there, that spoke, and asked, and answered common questions, like a reasonable creature: so that those of his train there generally concluded it to be witchery or possession; and one of his chaplains, who lived long afterwards in Holland, would never from that time endure a parrot, but said they all had a devil in them. I had heard many particulars of this story, and as severed by people hard to be discredited, which made me ask Prince Maurice what there was of it. He said, with his usual plainness and dryness in talk, there was something true, but a great deal false of what had been reported. I desired to know of him what there was of the first. He told me short and coldly, that he had heard of such an old parrot when he had been at Brazil; and though he believed nothing of it, and it was a good way off, yet he had so much curiosity as to send for it: that it was a very great and a very old one; and when it came first into the room where the prince was, with a great many Dutchmen about him, it said presently, What a company of white men are here! They asked it, what it thought that man was, pointing to the prince. It answered, Some General or other. When they brought it close to him, he asked it, D'ou venez-vous? It answered, De Marinnan. The Prince, A qui estes-vous? The Parrot, A un Portugais. The Prince, Que fais-tu la? Parrot, Je garde les poulles. The Prince laughed, and said, Vous gardez les poulles? The Parrot answered, Oui, moi; et je scai bien faire; and made the chuck four or five times that people use to make to chickens when they call them. I set down the words of this worthy dialogue in French, just as Prince Maurice said them to me. I asked him in what language the parrot spoke, and he said in Brazilian. I asked whether he understood Brazilian; he said No, but he had taken care to have two interpreters by him, the one a Dutchman that spoke Brazilian, and the other a Brazilian that spoke Dutch; that he asked them separately and privately, and both of them agreed in telling him just the same thing that the parrot had said. I could not but tell this odd story, because it is so much out of the way, and from the first hand, and what may pass for a good one; for I dare say this Prince at least believed himself in all he told me, having ever passed for a very honest and pious man: I leave it to naturalists to reason, and to other men to believe, as they please upon it; however, it is not, perhaps, amiss to relieve or enliven a busy scene sometimes with such digressions, whether to the purpose or no." I have taken care that the reader should have the story at large in the author's own words, because he seems to me not to have thought it incredible; for it cannot be imagined that so able a man as he, who had sufficiency enough to warrant all the testimonies he gives of himself, should take so much pains, in a place where it had nothing to do, to pin so close, not only on a man whom he mentions as his friend, but on a Prince in whom he acknowledges very great honesty and piety, a story which, if he himself thought incredible, he could not but also think ridiculous. The Prince, it is plain, who vouches this story, and our author, who relates it from him, both of them call this talker a parrot: and I ask any one else who thinks such a story fit to be told, whether, if this parrot, and all of its kind, had always talked, as we have a prince's word for it this one did,- whether, I say, they would not have passed for a race of rational animals; but yet, whether, for all that, they would have been allowed to be men, and not parrots? For I presume it is not the idea of a thinking or rational being alone that makes the idea of a man in most people's sense: but of a body, so and so shaped, joined to it: and if that be the idea of a man, the same successive body not shifted all at once, must, as well as the same immaterial spirit, go to the making of the same man.

principle of economy of rational effort: vide principle of least conversational effort. Principle of conversational least effort. No undue effort (candour), no unnecessary trouble (self-love) if doing A involves too much conversational effort, never worry: you will be DEEMED to have made the effort. Invoked by Grice in “Prejudices and predilections; which become, the life and opinions of H. P. Grice.” When Grice qualifies this as ‘rational’ effort, what other efforts are there? Note that the lexeme ‘effort’ does NOT feature in the formulation of the principle itself. Grice confesses to be strongly inclined to assent to the principle of economy of rational conversational effort or the principle of economy of conversational effort, or the principle of economy of conversational expenditure, or the principle of minimisation of rational expenditure, or the principle of minimization of conversational expenditure, or the principle of minimisation of rational cost, or the conversational maximin. The principle of least cost. The principle of economy of rational expenditure states that, where there is a ratiocinative procedure for arriving rationally at certain outcome, a procedure which, because it is ratiocinative, involves an expenditure of time and energy, if there is a NON-ratiocinative, and so more economical procedure which is likely, for the most part, to reach the same outcome as the ratiocinative procedure, provided the stakes are not too high, it is rational to employ the cheaper though somewhat less reliable non-ratiocinative procedure as a substitute for ratiocination. Grice thinks this principle would meet with genitorial approval, in which case the genitor would install it for use should opportunity arise. This applies to the charge of overcomplexity and ‘psychological irreality’ of the reasoning involved in the production and design of the maximally efficient conversational move and the reasoning involved in the recognition of the implicatum by the addressee. In “Epilogue” he goes by yet another motto, Do not multiply rationalities beyond necessity: The principle of conversational rationality, as he calls it in the Epilogue, is a sub-principle of a principle of rationality simpiciter, not applying to a pursuit related to ‘communication,’ as he puts it.

propositio universalis Vide inverted A. A proposition (protasis), then, is a sentence affirming or denying something of something; and this is either universal or particular or indefinite. By universal I mean a statement that something belongs to all or none of something; by particular that it belongs to some or not to some or not to all; by indefinite that it does or does not belong, without any mark of being universal or particular, e.g. ‘contraries are subjects of the same science’, or ‘pleasure is not good’. (Prior Analytics I, 1, 24a16–21.)

propositional complexum: In logic, the first proposition of a syllogism (class.): “propositio est, per quem locus is breviter exponitur, ex quo vis omnis oportet emanet ratiocinationis,” Cic. Inv. 1, 37, 67; 1, 34, 35; Auct. Her. 2, 18, 28.— B. Transf. 1. A principal subject, theme (class.), Cic. de Or. 3, 53; Sen. Ben. 6, 7, 1; Quint. 5, 14, 1.— 2. Still more generally, a proposition of any kind (post-Aug.), Quint. 7, 1, 47, § 9; Gell. 2, 7, 21.—Do not expect Grice to use the phrase ‘propositional content,’ as Hare does so freely. Grices proposes a propositional complexum, rather, which frees him from a commitment to a higher-order calculus and the abstract entity of a feature or a proposition. Grice regards a proposition as an extensional family of propositional complexa (Paul saw Peter; Peter was seen by Paul). The topic of a propositional complex Grice regards as Oxonian in nature. Peacocke struggles with the same type of problems, in his essays on content. Only a perception-based account of content in terms of qualia gets the philosopher out of the vicious circle of appealing to a linguistic entity to clarify a psychological entity. One way to discharge the burden of giving an account of a proposition involves focusing on a range of utterances, the formulation of which features no connective or quantifier. Each expresses a propositional complexum which consists of a sequence simplex-1 and simplex-2, whose elements would be a set and an ordered sequence of this or that individuum which may be a member of the set. The propositional complexum ‘Fido is shaggy’ consists of a sequence of the set of shaggy individua and the singleton consisting of the individuum Fido. ‘Smith loves Fido’ is a propositional complexum, i. e., a sequence whose first element is the class “love” correlated to a two-place predicate) and a the ordered pair of the singletons Smith and Fido. We define alethic satisfactoriness. A propositional complexum is alethically satisfactory just in case the sequence is a member of the set. A “proposition” (prosthesis) simpliciter is defined as a family of propositional complexa. Family unity may vary in accordance with context. 

ψ-transmissum: A good way to formulate the point of communication. Note that Grice is never sure about analsans and analysandum: Emissor communicates THAT P iff Emissor M-INTENDS THAT addressee is to psi- that P. Which seems otiose. “It is raining” can be INFORMATIVE, but it is surely INDICATIVE first. So it’s moke like the emissor intends his addressee to believe that he, the utterer believes that p (the belief itself NOT being part of what is meant, of course). So, there is psi-transmission not necessarily when the utterer convinces his addressee, but just when he gets his addressee to BELIEF that he, the utterer, psi-s that p. So the psi HAS BEEN TRANSMITTED. Surely when the Beatles say “HELP” they don’t expect that their addressee will need help. They intend their addressee to HELP them! Used by Grice in WoW: 287, and emphasised by J. Baker. The gist of communication. trans-mitto or trāmitto , mīsi, missum, 3, v. a. I. To send, carry, or convey across, over, or through; to send off, despatch, transmit from one place or person to another (syn.: transfero, traicio, traduco). A. Lit.: “mihi illam ut tramittas: argentum accipias,” Plaut. Ep. 3, 4, 27: “illam sibi,” id. ib. 1, 2, 52: “exercitus equitatusque celeriter transmittitur (i. e. trans flumen),” are conveyed across, Caes. B. G. 7, 61: “legiones,” Vell. 2, 51, 1: “cohortem Usipiorum in Britanniam,” Tac. Agr. 28: “classem in Euboeam ad urbem Oreum,” Liv. 28, 5, 18: “magnam classem in Siciliam,” id. 28, 41, 17: “unde auxilia in Italiam transmissurus erat,” id. 23, 32, 5; 27, 15, 7: transmissum per viam tigillum, thrown over or across, id. 1, 26, 10: “ponte transmisso,” Suet. Calig. 22 fin.: in partem campi pecora et armenta, Tac. A. 13, 55: “materiam in formas,” Col. 7, 8, 6.— 2. To cause to pass through: “per corium, per viscera Perque os elephanto bracchium transmitteres,” you would have thrust through, penetrated, Plaut. Mil. 1, 30; so, “ensem per latus,” Sen. Herc. Oet. 1165: “facem telo per pectus,” id. Thyest. 1089: “per medium amnem transmittit equum,” rides, Liv. 8, 24, 13: “(Gallorum reguli) exercitum per fines suos transmiserunt,” suffered to pass through, id. 21, 24, 5: “abies folio pinnato densa, ut imbres non transmittat,” Plin. 16, 10, 19, § 48: “Favonios,” Plin. Ep. 2, 17, 19; Tac. A. 13, 15: “ut vehem faeni large onustam transmitteret,” Plin. 36, 15, 24, § 108.— B. Trop. 1. To carry over, transfer, etc.: “bellum in Italiam,” Liv. 21, 20, 4; so, “bellum,” Tac. A. 2, 6: “vitia cum opibus suis Romam (Asia),” Just. 36, 4, 12: vim in aliquem, to send against, i. e. employ against, Tac. A. 2, 38.— 2. To hand over, transmit, commit: “et quisquam dubitabit, quin huic hoc tantum bellum transmittendum sit, qui, etc.,” should be intrusted, Cic. Imp. Pomp. 14, 42: “alicui signa et summam belli,” Sil. 7, 383: “hereditas transmittenda alicui,” to be made over, Plin. Ep. 8, 18, 7; and with inf.: “et longo transmisit habere nepoti,” Stat. S. 3, 3, 78 (analog. to dat habere, Verg. A. 9, 362; “and, donat habere,” id. ib. 5, 262); “for which: me famulo famulamque Heleno transmisit habendam,” id. ib. 3, 329: “omne meum tempus amicorum temporibus transmittendum putavi,” should be devoted, Cic. Imp. Pomp. 1, 1: “poma intacta ore servis,” Tac. A. 4, 54.— 3. To let go: animo transmittente quicquid acceperat, letting pass through, i. e. forgetting, Sen. Ep. 99, 6: “mox Caesarem vergente jam senectā munia imperii facilius tramissurum,” would let go, resign, Tac. A. 4, 41: “Junium mensem transmissum,” passed over, omitted, id. ib. 16, 12 fin.: “Gangen amnem et quae ultra essent,” to leave unconquered, Curt. 9, 4, 17: “leo imbelles vitulos Transmittit,” Stat. Th. 8, 596.— II. To go or pass over or across, to cross over; to cross, pass, go through, traverse, etc. A. Lit. 1. In gen. (α). Act.: “grues cum maria transmittant,” Cic. N. D. 2, 49, 125: “cur ipse tot maria transmisit,” id. Fin. 5, 29, 87; so, “maria,” id. Rep. 1, 3, 6: “satis constante famā jam Iberum Poenos transmisisse,” Liv. 21, 20, 9 (al. transisse): “quem (Euphratem) ponte,” Tac. A. 15, 7: “fluvium nando,” Stat. Th. 9, 239: “lacum nando,” Sil. 4, 347: “murales fossas saltu,” id. 8, 554: “equites medios tramittunt campos,” ride through, Lucr. 2, 330; cf.: “cursu campos (cervi),” run through, Verg. A. 4, 154: quantum Balearica torto Funda potest plumbo medii transmittere caeli, can send with its hurled bullet, i. e. can send its bullet, Ov. M. 4, 710: “tectum lapide vel missile,” to fling over, Plin. 28, 4, 6, § 33; cf.: “flumina disco,” Stat. Th. 6, 677.—In pass.: “duo sinus fuerunt, quos tramitti oporteret: utrumque pedibus aequis tramisimus,” Cic. Att. 16, 6, 1: “transmissus amnis,” Tac. A. 12, 13: “flumen ponte transmittitur,” Plin. Ep. 8, 8, 5.— (β). Neutr.: “ab eo loco conscendi ut transmitterem,” Cic. Phil. 1, 3, 7: “cum exercitus vestri numquam a Brundisio nisi summā hieme transmiserint,” id. Imp. Pomp. 12, 32: “cum a Leucopetrā profectus (inde enim tramittebam) stadia circiter CCC. processissem, etc.,” id. Att. 16, 7, 1; 8, 13, 1; 8, 11, 5: “ex Corsicā subactā Cicereius in Sardiniam transmisit,” Liv. 42, 7, 2; 32, 9, 6: “ab Lilybaeo Uticam,” id. 25, 31, 12: “ad vastandam Italiae oram,” id. 21, 51, 4; 23, 38, 11; 24, 36, 7: “centum onerariae naves in Africam transmiserunt,” id. 30, 24, 5; Suet. Caes. 58: “Cyprum transmisit,” Curt. 4, 1, 27. — Pass. impers.: “in Ebusum insulam transmissum est,” Liv. 22, 20, 7.—* 2. In partic., to go over, desert to a party: “Domitius transmisit ad Caesa rem,” Vell. 2, 84 fin. (syn. transfugio).— B. Trop. (post-Aug.). 1. In gen., to pass over, leave untouched or disregarded (syn praetermitto): “haud fas, Bacche, tuos taci tum tramittere honores,” Sil. 7, 162; cf.: “sententiam silentio, deinde oblivio,” Tac. H. 4, 9 fin.: “nihil silentio,” id. ib. 1, 13; “4, 31: aliquid dissimulatione,” id. A. 13, 39: “quae ipse pateretur,” Suet. Calig. 10; id. Vesp. 15. — 2. In partic., of time, to pass, spend (syn. ago): “tempus quiete,” Plin. Ep. 9, 6, 1: so, “vitam per obscurum,” Sen. Ep. 19, 2: steriles annos, Stat. S. 4, 2, 12: “aevum,” id. ib. 1, 4, 124: “quattuor menses hiemis inedia,” Plin. 8, 25, 38, § 94: “vigiles noctes,” Stat. Th. 3, 278 et saep. — Transf.: “febrium ardorem,” i. e. to undergo, endure, Plin. Ep. 1, 22, 7; cf. “discrimen,” id. ib. 8, 11, 2: “secessus, voluptates, etc.,” id. ib. 6, 4, 2.

quasi-demonstratum: Grice was obsessed with this or that. An abstractum (such as “philosopher”) needs to be attached in a communicatum by what Grice calls a ‘quasi-demonstrative,’ and for which he uses “φ.” Consider, Grice says, an utterance, out of the blue, such as ‘The philosopher in the garden seems bored,’ involving two iota-operators. As there may be more that a philosopher in a garden in the great big world, the utterer intends his addressee to treat the utterance as expandable into ‘The A which is φ is B,’ where “φ” is a quasi-demonstrative epithet to be identified in a particular context of utterance. The utterer intends that, to identify  the denotatum of “φ” for a particular utterance of ‘The philosopher in the garden seems bored,’ the addressee wil proceed via the identification of a particular philosopher, say Grice, as being a good candidate for being the philosopher meant. The addressee is also intended to identify the candidate for a denotatum of φ by finding in the candidate a feature, e. g., that of being the garden at St. John’s, which is intended to be used to yield a composite epithet (‘philosopher in St. John’s garden’), which in turn fills the bill of being the epithet which the utterer believes is being uniquely satisfied by the philosopher selected as the candidate. Determining the denotatum of “φ” standardly involve determining what feature the utterer believes is uniquely instantiated by the predicate “philosopher.” This in turn involves satisfying oneself that some particular feature is in fact uniquely satisfied by a particular actual item, viz. a particular philosopher such as Grice seeming bored in the garden of St. John’s.

ramseyified description. Applied by Grice in “Method.”Agent A is in a D state just in case there is a predicate “D”  introduced via implicit definition by nomological generalisation L within theory θ, such L obtains, A instantiates D. Grice distinguishes the ‘descriptor’ from a more primitive ‘name.’ The reference is to Ramsey. Refs: “Philosophical psychology,” in BANC.

re-praesentatum. Suppose Grice joins the Oxfordshire cricket club. He will represent Oxfordshire. He will do for Oxfordshire what Oxfordshire cannot do for herself. Similarly, by uttering “Smoke!,” the utterer means that there is fire somewhere. “Smoke!” is a communication-device if it does for smoke what smoke cannot do for itself, influence thoughts and behaviour. Or does it?! It MWheIGHT. But suppose that the fire is some distant from the addresse. And the utterer HAS LEARNED That there is fire in the distance. So he utters ‘Smoke!’ Where? Oh, you won’t see it. But I was told there is smoke on the outskirts. Thanks for warning me! rĕ-praesento , āvi, ātum, 1, v. a.  I. To bring before one, to bring back; to show, exhibit, display, manifest, represent (class.): “per quas (visiones) imagines rerum absentium ita repraesentantur animo, ut eas cernere oculis ac praesentes habere videamur,” Quint. 6, 2, 29: “memoriae vis repraesentat aliquid,” id. 11, 2, 1; cf. Plin. Ep. 9, 28, 3: “quod templum repraesentabat memoriam consulatūs mei,” Cic. Sest. 11, 26: si quis vultu torvo ferus simulet Catonem, Virtutemne repraesentet moresque Catonis? * Hor. Ep. 1, 19, 14: “imbecillitatem ingenii mei,” Val. Max. 2, 7, 6: “movendi ratio aut in repraesentandis est aut imitandis adfectibus,” Quint. 11, 3, 156: “urbis species repraesentabatur animis,” Curt. 3, 10, 7; cf.: “affectum patris amissi,” Plin. Ep. 4, 19, 1: “nam et vera esse et apte ad repraesentandam iram deūm ficta possunt,” Liv. 8, 6, 3 Weissenb. ad loc.: “volumina,” to recite, repeat, Plin. 7, 24, 24, § 89: “viridem saporem olivarum etiam post annum,” Col. 12, 47, 8: “faciem veri maris,” id. 8, 17, 6: “colorem constantius,” to show, exhibit, Plin. 37, 8, 33, § 112: “vicem olei,” i. e. to supply the place of, id. 28, 10, 45, § 160; cf. id. 18, 14, 36, § 134.— B. Of painters, sculptors, etc., to represent, portray, etc. (post-Aug. for adumbro): “Niceratus repraesentavit Alcibiadem,” Plin. 34, 8, 19, § 88.—With se, to present one's self, be present, Col. 1, 8, 11; 11, 1, 26; Dig. 48, 5, 15, § 3.— II. In partic., mercant. t. t., to pay immediately or on the spot; to pay in ready money: reliquae pecuniae vel usuram Silio pendemus, dum a Faberio vel ab aliquo qui Faberio debet, repraesentabimus, shall be enabled to pay immediately, Cic. Att. 12, 25, 1; 12, 29, 2: “summam,” Suet. Aug. 101: “legata,” id. Calig. 16: “mercedem,” id. Claud. 18; id. Oth. 5; Front. Strat. 1, 11, 2 Oud. N. cr.: “dies promissorum adest: quem etiam repraesentabo, si adveneris,” shall even anticipate, Cic. Fam. 16, 14, 2; cf. fideicommissum, to discharge immediately or in advance, Dig. 35, 1, 36.— B. Transf., in gen., to do, perform, or execute any act immediately, without delay, forthwith; hence, not to defer or put off; to hasten (good prose): se, quod in longiorem diem collaturus esset, repraesentaturum et proximā nocte castra moturum, * Caes. B. G. 1, 40: “festinasse se repraesentare consilium,” Curt. 6, 11, 33: “petis a me, ut id quod in diem suum dixeram debere differri, repraesentem,” Sen. Ep. 95, 1; and Front. Aquaed. 119 fin.: “neque exspectare temporis medicinam, quam repraesentare ratione possimus,” to apply it immediately, Cic. Fam. 5, 16, 6; so, “improbitatem suam,” to hurry on, id. Att. 16, 2, 3: “spectaculum,” Suet. Calig. 58: “tormenta poenasque,” id. Claud. 34: “poenam,” Phaedr. 3, 10, 32; Val. Max. 6, 5, ext. 4: “verbera et plagas,” Suet. Vit. 10: “vocem,” to sing immediately, id. Ner. 21 et saep.: “si repraesentari morte meā libertas civitatis potest,” can be immediately recovered, Cic. Phil. 2, 46, 118: “minas irasque caelestes,” to fulfil immediately, Liv. 2, 36, 6 Weissenb. ad loc.; cf. Suet. Claud. 38: “judicia repraesentata,” held on the spot, without preparation, Quint. 10, 7, 2.— C. To represent, stand in the place of (late Lat.): nostra per eum repraesentetur auctoritas, Greg. M. Ep. 1, 1.

scepticism: Grice thinks ‘dogmatic’ is the opposite of ‘sceptic,’ and he is right! Liddell and Scott have “δόγμα,” from “δοκέω,” and which they render as “that which seems to one, opinion or belief;” Pl.R.538c; “δ. πόλεως κοινόν;” esp. of philosophical doctrines, Epicur.Nat.14.7; “notion,” Pl.Tht.158d; “decision, judgement,” Pl. Lg.926d; (pl.); public decree, ordinance,  esp. of Roman Senatus-consulta, “δ. συγκλήτου”  “δ. τῆς βουλῆς” So note that there is nothing ‘dogmatic’ about ‘dogma,’ as it derives from ‘dokeo,’ and is rendered as ‘that which seems to one.’ So the keyword should be later Grecian, and in the adjectival ‘dogmatic.’ Liddell and Scott have “δογματικός,” which they render as “of or for doctrines, didactic, [διάλογοι] Quint.Inst.2.15.26, and “of persons, δ. ἰατροί,” “physicians who go by general principles,” opp. “ἐμπειρικοί and μεθοδικοί,” Dsc.Ther.Praef., Gal.1.65; in Philosophy, S.E.M.7.1, D.L.9.70, etc.; “δ. ὑπολήψεις” Id.9.83; “δ. φιλοσοφία” S.E. P.1.4. Adv. “-κῶς” D.L.9.74, S.E.P.1.197: Comp. “-κώτερον” Id.M. 6.4. Why is Grice interested in scepticism. His initial concern, the one that Austin would authorize, relates to ‘ordinary language.’ What if ‘ordinary language’ embraces scepticism? What if it doesn’t? Strawso notes that the world of ordinary language is a world of things, causes, and stuff. None of the good stuff for the sceptic. what is Grice’s answer to the sceptic’s implicature? The sceptic’s implicatum is a topic that always fascinated Girce. While Grice groups two essays as dealing with one single theme, strictly, only this or that philosopher’s paradox (not all) may count as sceptical. This or that philosopher’s paradox may well not be sceptical at all but rather dogmatic. In fact, Grice defines philosophers paradox as anything repugnant to common sense, shocking, or extravagant ‒ to Malcolms ears, that is! While it is, strictly, slightly odd to quote this as a given date just because, by a stroke of the pen, Grice writes that date in the Harvard volume, we will follow his charming practice. This is vintage Grice. Grice always takes the sceptics challenge seriously, as any serious philosopher should. Grices takes both the sceptics explicatum and the scepticss implicatum as self-defeating, as a very affront to our idea of rationality, conversational or other. V: Conversations with a sceptic: Can he be slightly more conversational helpful? Hume’ sceptical attack is partial, and targeted only towards practical reason, though.  Yet, for Grice, reason is one. You cannot really attack practical or buletic reason without attacking theoretical or doxastic reason. There is such thing as a general rational acceptance, to use Grice’s term, that the sceptic is getting at. Grice likes to play with the idea that ultimately every syllogism is buletic or practical. If, say, a syllogism by Eddington looks doxastic, that is because Eddington cares to omit the practical tail, as Grice puts it. And Eddington is not even a philosopher, they say. Grice is here concerned with a Cantabrigian topic popularised by Moore. As Grice recollects, Some like Witters, but Moore’s my man. Unlike Cambridge analysts such as Moore, Grice sees himself as a linguistic-turn Oxonian analyst. So it is only natural that Grice would connect time-honoured scepticism of Pyrrhos vintage, and common sense with ordinary language, so mis-called, the elephant in Grices room. Lewis and Short have “σκέψις,” f. σκέπτομαι, which they render as “viewing, perception by the senses, ἡ διὰ τῶν ὀμμάτων ςκέψις, Pl. Phd. 83a; observation of auguries; also as examination, speculation, consideration, τὸ εὕρημα πολλῆς σκέψιος; βραχείας ςκέψις; ϝέμειν ςκέψις take thought of a thing; ἐνθεὶς τῇ τέχνῃ ςκέψις; ςκέψις ποιεῖσθαι; ςκέψις προβέβληκας; ςκέψις λόγων; ςκέψις περί τινος inquiry into, speculation on a thing; περί τι Id. Lg. 636d;ἐπὶ σκέψιν τινὸς ἐλθεῖν; speculation, inquiry,ταῦτα ἐξωτερικωτέρας ἐστὶ σκέψεως; ἔξω τῆς νῦν ςκέψεως; οὐκ οἰκεῖα τῆς παρούσης ςκέψις; also hesitation, doubt, esp. of the Sceptic or Pyrthonic philosophers, AP 7. 576 (Jul.); the Sceptic philosophy, S. E. P. 1.5; οἱ ἀπὸ τῆς ςκέψεως, the Sceptics, ib. 229. in politics, resolution, decree, συνεδρίον Hdn. 4.3.9, cf. Poll. 6.178. If scepticism attacks common sense and fails, Grice seems to be implicating, that ordinary language philosophy is a good antidote to scepticism. Since what language other than ordinary language does common sense speak? Well, strictly, common sense doesnt speak. The man in the street does. Grice addresses this topic in a Mooreian way in a later essay, also repr. in Studies, Moore and philosophers paradoxes, repr. in Studies. As with his earlier Common sense and scepticism, Grice tackles Moores and Malcolms claim that ordinary language, so-called, solves a few of philosophers paradoxes. Philosopher is Grices witty way to generalise over your common-or-garden, any, philosopher, especially of the type he found eccentric, the sceptic included. Grice finds this or that problem in this overarching Cantabrigian manoeuvre, as over-simplifying a pretty convoluted terrain. While he cherishes Austins Some like Witters, but Moores MY man! Grice finds Moore too Cantabrigian to his taste. While an Oxonian thoroughbred, Grice is a bit like Austin, Some like Witters, but Moores my man, with this or that caveat. Again, as with his treatment of Descartes or Locke, Grice is hardly interested in finding out what Moore really means. He is a philosopher, not a historian of philosophy, and he knows it. While Grice agrees with Austins implicature that Moore goes well above Witters, if that is the expression (even if some like him), we should find the Oxonian equivalent to Moore. Grice would not Names Ryle, since he sees him, and his followers, almost every day. There is something apostolic about Moore that Grice enjoys, which is just as well, seeing that Moore is one of the twelve. Grice found it amusing that the members of The Conversazione Society would still be nickNamesd apostles when their number exceeded the initial 12. Grice spends some time exploring what Malcolm, a follower of Witters, which does not help, as it were, has to say about Moore in connection with that particularly Oxonian turn of phrase, such as ordinary language is. For Malcolms Moore, a paradox by philosopher [sic], including the sceptic, arises when philosopher [sic], including the sceptic, fails to abide by the dictates of ordinary language. It might merit some exploration if Moore’s defence of common sense is against: the sceptic may be one, but also the idealist. Moore the realist, armed with ordinary language attacks the idealists claim. The idealist is sceptical of the realists claim. But empiricist idealism (Bradley) has at Oxford as good pedigree as empiricist realism (Cook Wilson). Malcolm’s simplifications infuriate Grice, and ordinary language has little to offer in the defense of common sense realism against sceptical empiricist idealism. Surely the ordinary man says ridiculous, or silly, as Russell prefers, things, such as Smith is lucky, Departed spirits walk along this road on their way to Paradise, I know there are infinite stars, and I wish I were Napoleon, or I wish that I had been Napoleon, which does not mean that the utterer wishes that he were like Napoleon, but that he wishes that he had lived not in the his century but in the XVIIIth century. Grice is being specific about this. It is true that an ordinary use of language, as Malcolm suggests, cannot be self-contradictory unless the ordinary use of language is defined by stipulation as not self-contradictory, in which case an appeal to ordinary language becomes useless against this or that paradox by Philosopher. I wish that I had been Napoleon seems to involve nothing but an ordinary use of language by any standard but that of freedom from absurdity. I wish that I had been Napoleon is not, as far as Grice can see, philosophical, but something which may have been said and meant by numbers of ordinary people. Yet, I wish that I had been Napoleon is open to the suspicion of self-contradictoriness, absurdity, or some other kind of meaninglessness. And in this context suspicion is all Grice needs. By uttering I wish that I had been Napoleon U hardly means the same as he would if he uttered I wish I were like Napoleon. I wish that I had been Napoleon is suspiciously self-contradictory, absurd, or meaningless, if, as uttered by an utterer in a century other than the XVIIIth century, say, the utterer is understood as expressing the proposition that the utterer wishes that he had lived in the XVIIIth century, and not in his century, in which case he-1 wishes that he had not been him-1? But blame it on the buletic. That Moore himself is not too happy with Malcolms criticism can be witnessed by a cursory glimpse at hi reply to Malcolm. Grice is totally against this view that Malcolm ascribes to Moore as a view that is too broad to even claim to be true. Grices implicature is that Malcolm is appealing to Oxonian turns of phrase, such as ordinary language, but not taking proper Oxonian care in clarifying the nuances and stuff in dealing with, admittedly, a non-Oxonian philosopher such as Moore. When dealing with Moore, Grice is not necessarily concerned with scepticism. Time is unreal, e.g. is hardly a sceptic utterance. Yet Grice lists it as one of Philosophers paradoxes. So, there are various to consider here. Grice would start with common sense. That is what he does when he reprints this essay in WOW, with his attending note in both the preface and the Retrospective epilogue on how he organizes the themes and strands. Common sense is one keyword there, with its attending realism. Scepticism is another, with its attending empiricist idealism. It is intriguing that in the first two essays opening Grices explorations in semantics and metaphysics it seems its Malcolm, rather than the dryer Moore, who interests Grice most. While he would provide exegeses of this or that dictum by Moore, and indeed, Moore’s response to Malcolm, Grice seems to be more concerned with applications of his own views. Notably in Philosophers paradoxes. The fatal objection Grice finds for the paradox propounder (not necessarily a sceptic, although a sceptic may be one of the paradox propounders) significantly rests on Grices reductive analysis of meaning that  as ascribed to this or that utterer U. Grice elaborates on circumstances that hell later take up in the Retrospective epilogue. I find myself not understanding what I mean is dubiously acceptable. If meaning, Grice claims, is about an utterer U intending to get his addressee A to believe that U ψ-s that p, U must think there is a good chance that A will recognise what he is supposed to believe, by, perhaps, being aware of the Us practice or by a supplementary explanation which might come from U. In which case, U should not be meaning what Malcolm claims U might mean. No utterer should intend his addressee to believe what is conceptually impossible, or incoherent, or blatantly false (Charles Is decapitation willed Charles Is death.), unless you are Queen in Through the Looking Glass. I believe five impossible things before breakfast, and I hope youll soon get the proper training to follow suit. Cf. Tertulian, Credo, quia absurdum est. Admittedly, Grice edits the Philosophers paradoxes essay. It is only Grices final objection which is repr. in WOW, even if he provides a good detailed summary of the previous sections. Grice appeals to Moore on later occasions. In Causal theory, Grice lists, as a third philosophical mistake, the opinion by Malcolm that Moore did not know how to use knowin a sentence. Grice brings up the same example again in Prolegomena. The use of factive know of Moore may well be a misuse. While at Madison, Wisconsin, Moore lectures at a hall eccentrically-built with indirect lighting simulating sun rays, Moore infamously utters, I know that there is a window behind that curtain, when there is not. But it is not the factiveness Grice is aiming at, but the otiosity Malcolm misdescribes in the true, if baffling, I know that I have two hands. In Retrospective epilogue, Grice uses M to abbreviate Moore’s fairy godmother – along with G (Grice), A (Austin), R (Ryle) and Q (Quine)! One simple way to approach Grices quandary with Malcolm’s quandary with Moore is then to focus on know. How can Malcolm claim that Moore is guilty of misusing know? The most extensive exploration by Grice on know is in Grices third James lecture (but cf. his seminar on Knowledge and belief, and his remarks on some of our beliefs needing to be true, in Meaning revisited. The examinee knows that the battle of Waterloo was fought in 1815. Nothing odd about that, nor about Moores uttering I know that these are my hands. Grice is perhaps the only one of the Oxonian philosophers of Austins play group who took common sense realsim so seriously, if only to crticise Malcoms zeal with it. For Grice, common-sense realism = ordinary language, whereas for the typical Austinian, ordinary language = the language of the man in the street. Back at Oxford, Grice uses Malcolm to contest the usual criticism that Oxford ordinary-language philosophers defend common-sense realist assumptions just because the way non-common-sense realist philosopher’s talk is not ordinary language, and even at Oxford. Cf. Flews reference to Joness philosophical verbal rubbish in using self as a noun. Grice is infuriated by all this unclear chatter, and chooses Malcolms mistreatment of Moore as an example. Grice is possibly fearful to consider Austins claims directly! In later essays, such as ‘the learned’ and ‘the lay,’ Grice goes back to the topic criticising now the scientists jargon as an affront to the ordinary language of the layman that Grice qua philosopher defends. Refs.: The obvious source is the essay on scepticism in WoW, but there are allusions in “Prejudices and predilections, and elsewhere, in The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

semantic: Grice would freely use ‘semantic,’ and the root for ‘semantics,’ that Grice does use, involves the richest root of all Grecian roots: the ‘semion.’ Liddell and Scott have “τό σημεῖον,” Ion. σημήϊον , Dor. σα_μήϊον IG12(3).452 (Thera, iv B.C.), σα_μεῖον IPE12.352.25 (Chersonesus, ii B.C.), IG5(1).1390.16 (Andania, i B.C.), σα_μᾶον CIG5168 (Cyrene); = σῆμα in all senses, and more common in Prose, but never in Hom. or Hes.; and which they render as “mark by which a thing is known,” Hdt.2.38;” they also have “τό σῆμα,” Dor. σᾶμα Berl.Sitzb.1927.161 (Cyrene), etc.; which they render as “sign, mark, token,” “ Il.10.466, 23.326, Od.19.250, etc.” Grice lectured not only on Cat. But the next, De Int. As Arsitotle puts it, an expression is a symbol (symbolon) or sign (semeion) of an affections or impression (pathematon) of the soul (psyche). An affection of the soul, of which a word is  primarily a sign, are the same for the whole of mankind, as is also objects (pragmaton) of which the affections is a representation or likenes, image, or copiy (homoiomaton).  [De Int., 1.16a4]  while Grice is NOT concerned about the semantics of utterers meaning (how could he, when he analyses  means  in terms of  intends , he is about the semantics of  expression-meaning. Grices second stage (expression meaing) of his programme about meaning begins with specifications of means as applied to x, a token of X. He is having Tarski and Davidson in their elaborations of schemata like ‘p’ ‘means’ that p. ‘Snow is white’ ‘means’ that snow is white, and stuff! Grice was especially concerned with combinatories, for both unary and dyadic operators, and with multiple quantifications within a first-order predicate calculus with identity. Since in Grice’s initial elaboration on meaning he relies on Stevenson, it is worth exploring how ‘semantics’ and ‘semiotics’ were interpreted by Peirce and the emotivists. Stevenson’s main source is however in the other place, though, under Stevenson. Refs.: The main sources are his lectures on language and reality – part of them repr. in WOW. The keywords under ‘communication,’ and ‘signification,’ that Grice occasionally uses ‘the total signification’ of a remark, above, BANC.

semiological: or is it semiotics? Cf. semiological, semotic. Since Grice uses ‘philosophical psychology’ and ‘philosopical biology,’ it may do to use ‘semiology,’ indeed ‘philosophical semiology,’ here.  Oxonian semiotics is unique. Holloway published his “Language and Intelligence” and everyone was excited. It is best to see this as Grices psychologism. Grice would rarely use ‘intelligent,’ less so the more pretentious, ‘intelligence,’ as a keyword. If he is doing it, it is because what he saw as the misuse of it by Ryle and Holloway. Holloway, a PPE, is a tutorial fellow in philosophy at All Souls. He acknowledges Ryle as his mentor. (Holloway also quotes from Austin). Grice was amused that J. N. Findlay, in his review of Holloway’s essay in “Mind,” compares Holloway to C. W. Morris, and cares to cite the two relevant essay by Morris: The Foundation in the theory of signs, and Signs, Language, and Behaviour. Enough for Grice to feel warmly justified in having chosen another New-World author, Peirce, for his earlier Oxford seminar. Morris studied under G. H. Mead. But is ‘intelligence’ part of The Griceian Lexicon?Well, Lewis and Short have ‘interlegere,’ to chose between. Lewis and Short have ‘interlĕgo , lēgi, lectum, 3, v. a., I’.which they render it as “to cull or pluck off here and there (poet. and postclass.).in tmesi) uncis Carpendae manibus frondes, interque legendae, Verg. G. 2, 366: “poma,” Pall. Febr. 25, 16; id. Jun. 5, 1.intellĕgo (less correctly intellĭgo), exi, ectum (intellexti for intellexisti, Ter. Eun. 4, 6, 30; Cic. Att. 13, 32, 3: I.“intellexes for intellexisses,” Plaut. Cist. 2, 3, 81; subj. perf.: “intellegerint,” Sall. H. Fragm. 1, 41, 23 Dietsch); “inter-lego,” “to see into, perceive, understand.” I. Lit. A. Lewis and Short render as “to perceive, understand, comprehend.” Cf. Grice on his handwriting being legible to few. And The child is an adult as being UNintelligible until the creature is produced. In “Aspects,” he mentions flat rationality, and certain other talents that are more difficult for the philosopher to conceptualise, such as nose (i.e. intuitiveness), acumen, tenacity, and such. Grices approach is Pological. If Locke had used intelligent to refer to Prince Maurices parrot, Grice wants to find criteria for intelligent as applied to his favourite type of P, rather (intelligent, indeed rational.). Refs.: The most specific essay is his lecture on Peirce, listed under ‘communication, above. A reference to ‘criteria of intelligence relates. The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

shaggy-dog story: This is the story that Grice tells in his lecture. He uses a ‘shaggy-dog’ story to explain TWO main notions: that of ‘reference’ or denotatio, and that of predicatio. He had explored that earlier when discussing, giving an illustration “Smith is happy”, the idea of ‘value,’ as correspondence, where he adds the terms for ‘denote’ and ‘predicatio,’ or actually, ‘designatio’ and ‘indicatio’, need to be “explained within the theory.” In the utterance ‘Smith is happy,’ the utterer DESIGNATES an item, Smith. The utterer also INDICATES some class, ‘being happy.’ Grice introduces a shorthand, ‘assign’, or ‘assignatio,’ previous to the value-satisfaction, to involve both the ‘designatio’ and the ‘indicatio’. U assigns the item Smith to the class ‘being happy.’ U’s intention involves A’s belief that U believes that “the item belongs to the class, or that he ASSIGNS the item to the class. A predicate, such as 'shaggy,' in my shaggy-dog story, is a part of a bottom-up, or top-bottom, as I prefer, analysis of this or that sentences, and a predicate, such as 'shaggy,' is the only indispensable 'part,' or 'element,' as I prefer, since a predicate is the only 'pars orationis,' to use the old phrase, that must appear in every sentence. In a later lecture he ventures with ‘reference.’ Lewis and Short have “rĕferre,” rendered as “to bear, carry, bring, draw, or give back,” in a “transf.” usage, they render as “to make a reference, to refer (class.),” asa in “de rebus et obscuris et incertis ad Apollinem censeo referendum; “ad quem etiam Athenienses publice de majoribus rebus semper rettulerunt,” Cic. Div. 1, 54, 122.” While Grice uses ‘Fido,’ he could have used ‘Pegasus’ (Martin’s cat, as it happens) and apply Quine’s adage: we could have appealed to the ex hypothesi unanalyzable, irreducible attribute of being Pegasus, adopting, for its expression, the verb 'is-Pegasus', or 'pegasizes'. And Grice could have played with ‘predicatio’ and ‘subjectio.’ Grice on subject.  Lewis and Short have “sūbĭcĭo,” (less correctly subjĭcĭo ; post-Aug. sometimes sŭb- ), jēci, jectum, 3, v. a. sub-jacio.  which they render as “to throw, lay, place, or bring under or near (cf. subdo),” and in philosophy, “subjectum , i, n. (sc. verbum), as “that which is spoken of, the foundation or subject of a proposition;”  “omne quicquid dicimus aut subjectum est aut de subjecto aut in subjecto est. Subjectum est prima substantia, quod ipsum nulli accidit alii inseparabiliter, etc.,” Mart. Cap. 4, § 361; App. Dogm. Plat. 3, p. 34, 4 et saep.—.” Note that for Mart. Cap. the ‘subject,’ unlike the ‘predicate’ is not a ‘syntactical category.’ “Subjectum est prima substantia,” The subject is a prote ousia. As for correlation, Grice ends up with a reductive analysis. By uttering utterance-token V, the utterer U correlates predicate P1 with (and only with) each member of P2 ≡ (∃R)(∃R') (1) U effects that (∀x)(R P1x ≡ x ∈ P1) and (2) U intends (1), and (3) U intends that (∀y)(R' P1y ≡ y ∈ P1), where R' P1 is an expression-type such that utterance-token V is a sequence consisting of an expression-token p1 of expression-type P1 and an expression-token p2  of expression-type P2, the R-co-relatum of which is a set of which y is a member. And he is back with ‘denotare. Lewis and Short have “dēnŏtare,” which they render as “to mark, set a mark on, with chalk, color, etc.: “pedes venalium creta,”  It is interesting to trace Grice’s earliest investigations on this. Grice and Strawson stage a number of joint seminars on topics related to the notions of meaning, categories, and logical form. Grice and Strawson engage in systematic and unsystematic philosophical exploration. From these discussions springs work on predication and categories, one or two reflections of which are acknowledge at two places (re: the reductive analysis of a ‘particular,’ “the tallest man that did, does, or will exist” --) in Strawson’s “Particular and general” for The Aristotelian Society – and “visible” as Grice puts it, but not acknowledged, in Strawson’s “Individuals: an essay in descriptive metaphysics.””

signatum: Cf. “to sign” as a verb – from French. As Grice notes, there is a distinction between Aristotle’s use, in De Int., of ‘sumbolon,’ for which Aristotle sometimes means ‘semeion,’ and their Roman counterparts, ‘signum’ sounds otiose enough. But ‘significo’ does not. There is this –fico thing that sounds obtrusive. The Romans, however, were able to distinguish between ‘make a sign,’ and just ‘signal.’ The point is important when Grice tries to apply the Graeco-Roman philosophical terminology to a lexeme which does not belong in there: “mean.” His example is someone in pain, uttering “Oh.” If he later gains voluntary control, by uttering “Oh” he means that he is in pain, and even at a later stage, provided he learns ‘lupe,’ he may utter the expression which is somewhat correlated in a non-iconic fashion with something which iconically is a vehicle for U to mean that he is in pain. In this way, in a communication-system, a communication-device, such as “Oh” does for the state of affairs something that the state of affairs cannot do for itself, govern the addresee’s thoughts and behaviour (very much as the Oxfordshire cricket team does for Oxfordshire what Oxfordshire cannot do for herself, viz. to engage in a game of cricket. There’s rae-presentatum, for you! Short and Lewis have ‘signare,’ from ‘signum,’ and which they render as ‘to set a mark upon, to mark, mark out, designate (syn.: noto, designo),’ Lit. A. In gen. (mostly poet. and in post-Aug. prose): discrimen non facit neque signat linea alba, Lucil. ap. Non. 405, 17: “signata sanguine pluma est,” Ov. M. 6, 670: “ne signare quidem aut partiri limite campum Fas erat,” Verg. G. 1, 126: “humum limite mensor,” Ov. M. 1, 136; id. Am. 3, 8, 42: “moenia aratro,” id. F. 4, 819: “pede certo humum,” to print, press, Hor. A. P. 159; cf.: “vestigia summo pulvere,” to mark, imprint, Verg. G. 3, 171: auratā cyclade humum, Prop. 4 (5), 7, 40. “haec nostro signabitur area curru,” Ov. A. A. 1, 39: “locum, ubi ea (cistella) excidit,” Plaut. Cist. 4, 2, 28: “caeli regionem in cortice signant,” mark, cut, Verg. G. 2, 269: “nomina saxo,” Ov. M. 8, 539: “rem stilo,” Vell. 1, 16, 1: “rem carmine,” Verg. A. 3, 287; “for which: carmine saxum,” Ov. M. 2, 326: “cubitum longis litteris,” Plaut. Rud. 5, 2, 7: “ceram figuris,” to imprint, Ov. M. 15, 169: “cruor signaverat herbam,” had stained, id. ib. 10, 210; cf. id. ib. 12, 125: “signatum sanguine pectus,” id. A. A. 2, 384: “dubiā lanugine malas,” id. M. 13, 754: “signata in stirpe cicatrix,” Verg. G. 2, 379: “manibus Procne pectus signata cruentis,” id. ib. 4, 15: “vocis infinitios sonos paucis notis,” Cic. Rep. 3, 2, 3: “visum objectum imprimet et quasi signabit in animo suam speciem,” id. Fat. 19, 43.— B. In partic. 1. To mark with a seal; to seal, seal up, affix a seal to a thing (usually obsignare): “accepi a te signatum libellum,” Cic. Att. 11, 1, 1: “volumina,” Hor. Ep. 1, 13, 2: locellum tibi signatum remisi, Caes. ap. Charis. p. 60 P.: “epistula,” Nep. Pel. 3, 2: “arcanas tabellas,” Ov. Am. 2, 15, 15: “signatis quicquam mandare tabellis,” Tib. 4, 7, 7: “lagenam (anulus),” Mart. 9, 88, 7: “testamentum,” Plin. Ep. 2, 20, 8 sq.; cf. Mart. 5, 39, 2: “nec nisi signata venumdabatur (terra),” Plin. 35, 4, 14, § 33.—Absol., Mart. 10, 70, 7; Quint. 5, 7, 32; Suet. Ner. 17.— 2. To mark with a stamp; hence, a. Of money, to stamp, to coin: “aes argentum aurumve publice signanto,” Cic. Leg. 3, 3, 6; cf.: “qui primus ex auro denarium signavit ... Servius rex primus signavit aes ... Signatum est nota pecudum, unde et pecunia appellata ... Argentum signatum est anno, etc.,” Plin. 33, 3, 13, § 44: “argentum signatum,” Cic. Verr. 2, 5, 25, § 63; Quint. 5, 10, 62; 5, 14, 26: “pecunia signata Illyriorum signo,” Liv. 44, 27, 9: “denarius signatus Victoriā,” Plin. 33, 3, 13, § 46: “sed cur navalis in aere Altera signata est,” Ov. F. 1, 230: “milia talentūm argenti non signati formā, sed rudi pondere,” Curt. 5, 2, 11.— Hence, b. Poet.: “signatum memori pectore nomen habe,” imprinted, impressed, Ov. H. 13, 66: “(filia) quae patriā signatur imagine vultus,” i. e. closely resembles her father, Mart. 6, 27, 3.— c. To stamp, i. e. to license, invest with official authority (late Lat.): “quidam per ampla spatia urbis ... equos velut publicos signatis, quod dicitur, calceis agitant,” Amm. 14, 6, 16.— 3. Pregn., to distinguish, adorn, decorate (poet.): “pater ipse suo superūm jam signat honore,” Verg. A. 6, 781 Heyne: caelum corona, Claud. Nupt. Hon. et Mar. 273. to point out, signify, indicate, designate, express (rare; more usually significo, designo; in Cic. only Or. 19, 64, where dignata is given by Non. 281, 10; “v. Meyer ad loc.): translatio plerumque signandis rebus ac sub oculos subiciendis reperta est,” Quint. 8, 6, 19: “quotiens suis verbis signare nostra voluerunt (Graeci),” id. 2, 14, 1; cf.: “appellatione signare,” id. 4, 1, 2: “utrius differentiam,” id. 6, 2, 20; cf. id. 9, 1, 4; 12, 10, 16: “nomen (Caieta) ossa signat,” Verg. A. 7, 4: “fama signata loco est,” Ov. M. 14, 433: “miratrixque sui signavit nomine terras,” designated, Luc. 4, 655; cf.: “(Earinus) Nomine qui signat tempora verna suo,” Mart. 9, 17, 4: “Turnus ut videt ... So signari oculis,” singled out, looked to, Verg. A. 12, 3: signare responsum, to give a definite or distinct answer, Sen. Ben. 7, 16, 1.—With rel.-clause: “memoria signat in quā regione quali adjutore legatoque fratre meo usus sit,” Vell. 2, 115.— B. To distinguish, recognize: “primi clipeos mentitaque tela Adgnoscunt, atque ora sono discordia signant,” Verg. A. 2, 423; cf.: “sonis homines dignoscere,” Quint. 11, 3, 31: “animo signa quodcumque in corpore mendum est,” Ov. R. Am. 417.— C. To seal, settle, establish, confirm, prescribe (mostly poet.): “signanda sunt jura,” Prop. 3 (4), 20, 15. “signata jura,” Luc. 3, 302: jura Suevis, Claud. ap. Eutr. 1, 380; cf.: “precati deos ut velint ea (vota) semper solvi semperque signari,” Plin. Ep. 10, 35 (44). To close, end: “qui prima novo signat quinquennia lustro,” Mart. 4, 45, 3.—Hence, A. signan-ter , adv. (acc. to II. A.), expressly, clearly, distinctly (late Lat. for the class. significanter): “signanter et breviter omnia indicare,” Aus. Grat. Act. 4: “signanter et proprie dixerat,” Hier. adv. Jovin. 1, 13 fin. signātus, a, um, P. a. 1. (Acc. to I. B. 1. sealed; hence) Shut up, guarded, preserved (mostly ante- and post-class.): signata sacra, Varr. ap. Non. 397, 32: limina. Prop. 4 (5), 1, 145. Chrysidem negat signatam reddere, i. e. unharmed, intact, pure, Lucil. ap. Non. 171, 6; cf.: “assume de viduis fide pulchram, aetate signatam,” Tert. Exhort. 12.— 2. (Acc. to II. A.) Plain, clear, manifest (post-class. for “significans” – a back formation!): “quid expressius atque signatius in hanc causam?” Tert. Res. Carn.Adv.: signātē , clearly, distinctly (post-class.): “qui (veteres) proprie atque signate locuti sunt,” Gell. 2, 6, 6; Macr. S. 6, 7 Comp.: “signatius explicare aliquid,” Amm. 23, 6, 1.

significatum: Grice plays with the expression-communication distinction. When dealing with a lexeme that does NOT belong in the Graeco-Roman tradition, that of “mean,” he is never sure. His doubts were hightlighted in essays on “Grice without an audience.” While Grice explicitly says that a ‘word’ is not a sign, he would use ‘signify’ at a later stage, including the implicatum as part of the significatum. There is indeed an entry for signĭfĭcātĭo, f. significare. L and S render it, unhelpfully, as “a pointing out, indicating, denoting, signifying; an expression, indication, mark, sign, token, = indicium, signum, ἐπισημασία, etc., freq. and class. As with Stevenson’s ‘communico,’ Grice goes sraight to ‘signĭfĭco,’ also dep. “signĭfĭcor,” f. ‘significare,’ from signum-facere, to make sign, signum-facio, I make sign, which L and S render as to signify, which is perhaps not too helpful. Grice, if not the Grecians, knew that. Strictly, L and S render significare as to show by signs; to show, point out, express, publish, make known, indicate; to intimate, notify, signify, etc. Note that the cognate signify almost comes last, but not least, if not first. Enough to want to coin a word to do duty for them all. Which is what Grice (and the Grecians) can, but the old Romans cannot, with mean. If that above were not enough, L and S go on, also, to betoken, prognosticate, foreshow, portend, mean (syn. praedico), as in to betoken a change of weather (post-Aug.): “ventus Africus tempestatem significat, etc.,”cf. Grice on those dark clouds mean a storm is coming.  Short and Lewis go on, to say that significare may be rendered as to call, name; to mean, import, signify. Hence, ‘signĭfĭcans,’ in rhet. lang., of speech, full of meaning, expressive, significant; graphic, distinct, clear: adv.: signĭfĭcanter, clearly, distinctly, expressly, significantly, graphically: “breviter ac significanter ordinem rei protulisse;” “rem indicare (with proprie),”  “dicere (with ornate),”  “apertius, significantius dignitatem alicujus defendere,” “narrare,”“disponere,” “appellare aliquid (with consignatius);” “dicere (with probabilius).”

Strawson’s rat-infested house. Few in Grice’s playgroup had Grice’s analytic skills. Only a few cared to join him in his analysis of ‘mean.’ The first was Urmson with the ‘bribe.’ The second was Strawson, with his rat-infested house. Grice re-writes Strawson’s alleged counterexample. To deal with his own rat-infested house example, Strawson proposes that the analysans of "U means that p" might be restricted by the addition of a further condition, namely that the utterer U should utter x not only, as already provided, with the intention that his addressee should think that U intends to obtain a certain response from his addressee, but also with the intention that his addressee should think (recognize) that U has the intention just mentioned. In Strawson's example, in The Philosohical Review (that Grice cites on WOW:x) repr. in his "Logico-Linguistic Papers," the potential home buyer is intended to think that the realtor wants him to think that the house is rat-infested. However, the potential house-buyer is not intended by the realtor to think that he is intended to think that the realtor wants him to think that the house is rat infested. The addressee is intended to think that it is only as a result of being too clever for the realtor that he has learned that the potential home buyer wants him to think that the house is rat-infested; the potential home-buyer is to think that he is supposed to take the artificially displayed dead rat  as a evidence that the house is rat infested. U wants to get A to believe that the house A is thinking of buying is rat-infested. S decides to· bring about this belief in A by taking into the house and letting loose a big fat sewer rat. For S has the following scheme. He knows that A is watching him and knows that A believes that S is unaware that he, A, is watching him. It isS's intention that A should (wrongly) infer from the fact that S let the rat loose that S did so with the intention that A should arrive at the house, see the rat, and, taking the rat as "natural evidence", infer therefrom that the house is rat-infested. S further intends A to realize that given the nature of the rat's arrival, the existence of the rat cannot be taken as genuine or natural evidence that the house is rat-infested; but S kilows that A will believe that S would not so contrive to get A to believe the house is rat-infested unless Shad very good reasons for thinking that it was, and so S expects and intends A to infer that the house is rat-infested from the fact that Sis letting the rat loose with the intention of getting A to believe that the house is rat-infested. Thus S satisfies the conditions purported to be necessary and sufficient for his meaning something by letting the rat loose: S lets the rat loose intending (4) A to think that the house is rat-infested, intending (1)-(3) A to infer from the fact that S let the rat loose that S did so intending A to think that the house is rat-infested, and intending (5) A's recognition of S's . intention (4) to function as his reason for thinking that the house is rat-infested. But even though S's action meets these conditions, Strawson feels that his scenario fits Grice's conditions in Grice's reductive analysis and not yet Strawson's intuition about his own use of 'communicate.' To minimise Strawson's discomfort, Grice brings an anti-sneaky clause. ("Although I never shared Strawson's intuition about his use of 'communicate;' in fact, I very rarely use 'communicate that...' To exterminate the rats in Strawson's rat-infested house, Grice uses, as he should, a general "anti-deception" clause. It may be that the use of this exterminating procedure is possible. It may be that any 'backward-looking' clauses can be exterminated, and replaced by a general prohibitive, or closure clause, forbidding an intention by the utterer to be sneaky. It is a conceptual point that if you intend your addressee NOT TO REALISE that p, you are not COMMUNICATING that p. (3A) (if) (3r) (ic): (a) U utters x intending (I) A to think x possesses f (2) A to thinkf correlated in way c with the type to which r belongs (3) A to think, on the basis of the fulfillment of (I) and (3) that U intends A to produce r (4) A, on the basis of the fulfillment of (3) to produce r, and (b) There is no inference-element E such that U intends both (I') A in his determination of r to rely on E (2') A to think Uto intend (I') to be false. In the final version Grice reaches after considering alleged counterexamples to the NECESSITY of some of the conditions in the analysans, Grice reformulates. 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. Embedded in the general definition. 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.

subjectification: Grice plays with this. It is a derivation of the ‘subjectum,’ which Grice knows it is Aristotelian. Liddell and Scott have the verb first, and the neuter singular later. “τὸ ὑποκείμενον,” Liddell and Scott note “has three main applications.” The first is “to the matter (hyle) which underlies the form (eidos), as opp. To both “εἶδος” and “ἐντελέχεια” Met. 983a30; second, to the substantia (hyle + morphe) which underlies the accidents, and as opposed to “πάθη,” and “συμβεβηκότα,” as in Cat. 1a20,27 and Met.1037b16, 983b16; third, and this is the use that ‘linguistic’ turn Grice and Strawson are interested in, “to the logical subject to which attributes are ascribed,” and here opp. “τὸ κατηγορούμενον,” (which would be the ‘praedicatum’), as per Cat.1b10,21, Ph.189a31. If Grice uses Kiparsky’s factive, he is also using ‘nominalisation’ as grammarians use it. Refs.: Grice, “Reply to Richards,” in PGRICE, also BANC.

subjectivism: When Grice speaks of the subjective condition on intention, he is using ‘subject,’ in a way a philosophical psychologist would. He does not mean Kant’s transcendental subject or ego. Grice means the simpler empiricist subject, personal identity, or self. The choice is unfelicitious in that ‘subject’ contrasts with ‘object.’ So when he speaks of a ‘subjective’ person he means an ‘ego-centric’ condition, or a self-oriented condition, or an agent-oriented condition, or an ‘utterer-oriented’ or ‘utterer-relative’ condition. But this is tricky. His example: “Nixon should get that chair of theology.” The utterer may have to put into Nixon’s shoes. He has to perceive Nixon as a PERSON, a rational agent, with views of his own. So, the philosophical psychologist that Grice is has to think of a conception of the self by the self, and the conception of the other by the self. Wisdom used to talk of ‘other minds;’ Grice might speak of other souls. Grice was concerned with intending folloed by a that-clause. Jeffrey defines desirability as doxastically modified. It is entirely possible for someone to desire the love that he already has. It is what he thinks that matters. Cf. his dispositional account to intending. A Subjectsive condition takes into account the intenders, rather than the ascribers, point of view: Marmaduke Bloggs intends to climb Mt. Everest on hands and knees. Bloggs might reason: Given my present state, I should do what is fun. Given my present state, the best thing for me to do would be to do what is fun. For me in my present state it would make for my well-being, to have fun. Having fun is good, or, a good. Climbing a mountain would be fun. Climbing the Everest would be/make for climbing fun. So, I shall climb the Everest. Even if a critic insisted that a practical syllogism is the way to represent Bloggs finding something to be appealing, and that it should be regarded as a respectable evaluation, the assembled propositions dont do the work of a standard argument. The premises do not support or yield the conclusion as in a standard argument. The premises may be said to yield the conclusion, or directive, for the particular agent whose reasoning process it is, only on the basis of a Subjectsive condition: that the agent is in a certain Subjectsive state, e.g. feels like going out for dinner-fun. Rational beings (the agent at some other time, or other individuals) who do not have that feeling, will not accept the conclusion. They may well accept as true. It is fun to climb Everest, but will not accept it as a directive unless they feel like it now. Someone wondering what to do for the summer might think that if he were to climb Everest he would find it fun or pleasant, but right now she does not feel like it. That is in general the end of the matter. The alleged argument lacks normativity. It is not authoritative or directive unless there is a supportive argument that he needs/ought to do something diverting/pleasant in the summer. A practical argument is different. Even if an agent did not feel like going to the doctor, an agent would think I ought to have a medical check up yearly, now is the time, so I should see my doctor to be a directive with some force. It articulates a practical argument. Perhaps the strongest attempt to reconstruct an (acceptable or rational) thought transition as a standard arguments is to treat the Subjectsive condition, I feel like having climbing fun in the summer, as a premise, for then the premises would support the conclusion. But the individual, whose thought transition we are examining, does not regard a description of his psychological state as a consideration that supports the conclusion. It will be useful to look more closely at a variant of the example to note when it is appropriate to reconstruct thinking in the form of argument. Bloggs, now hiking with a friend in the Everest, comes to a difficult spot and says: I dont like the look of that, I am frightened. I am going back. That is usually enough for Bloggs to return, and for the friend to turn back with him. Bloggss action of turning back, admittedly motivated by fear, is, while not acting on reasons, nonetheless rational unless we judge his fear to be irrational. Bloggss Subjectsive condition can serve as a premise, but only in a very different situation. Bloggs resorts to reasons. Suppose that, while his friend does not think Bloggss fear irrational, the friend still attempts to dissuade Bloggs from going back. After listening and reflecting, Bloggs may say I am so frightened it is not worth it. I am not enjoying this climbing anymore. Or I am too frightened to be able to safely go on. Or I often climb the Everest and dont usually get frightened. The fact that I am now is a good indication that this is a dangerous trail and I should turn back. These are reasons, considerations implicitly backed by principles, and they could be the initial motivations of someone. But in Bloggss case they emerged when he was challenged by his friend. They do not express his initial practical reasoning. Bloggs was frightened by the trail ahead, wanted to go back, and didnt have any reason not to. Note that there is no general rational requirement to always act on reasons, and no general truth that a rational individual would be better off the more often he acted on reasons. Faced with his friends objections, however, Bloggs needed justification for acting on his fear. He reflected and found reason(s) to act on his fear. Grice plays with Subjectsivity already in Prolegomena. Consider the use of carefully. Surely we must include the agents own idea of this. Or consider the use of phi and phi – surely we dont want the addressee to regard himself under the same guise with which the utterer regards him. Or consider “Aspects”: Nixon must be appointed professor of theology at Oxford. Does he feel the need? Grice raises the topic of Subjectsivity again in the Kant lectures just after his discussion of mode, in a sub-section entitled, Modalities: relative and absolute. He finds the topic central for his æqui-vocality thesis: Subjectsive conditions seem necessary to both practical and alethic considerations. Refs.: The source is his essay on intentions and the subjective condition, The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

subjectum. Grice is very familiar with this since it’s the literal transliteration of Aristotle’s hypokeimenon, opp. in a specific context, to the ‘prae-dicatum,’ or categoroumenon. And with the same sort of ‘ambiguity,’ qua opposite a category of expression, thought, or reality. In philosophical circles, one has to be especially aware of the subject-object distinction (which belong in philosophical psychology) and the thing which belongs in ontology. Of course there’s the substance (hypousia, substantia), the essence, and the sumbebekon, accidens. So one has to be careful. Grice expands on Strawson’s explorations here. Philosophy, to underlie, as the foundation in which something else inheres, to be implied or presupposed by something else, “ἑκάστῳ τῶν ὀνομάτων . . ὑ. τις ἴδιος οὐσία” Pl.Prt.349b, cf. Cra.422d, R.581c, Ti.Locr.97e: τὸ ὑποκείμενον has three main applications: (1) to the matter which underlies the form, opp. εἶδος, ἐντελέχεια, Arist.Metaph.983a30; (2) to the substance (matter + form) which underlies the accidents, opp. πάθη, συμβεβηκότα, Id.Cat.1a20,27, Metaph.1037b16, 983b16; (3) to the logical subject to which attributes are ascribed, opp. τὸ κατηγορούμενον, Id.Cat.1b10,21, Ph.189a31: applications (1) and (2) are distinguished in Id.Metaph.1038b5, 1029a1-5, 1042a26-31: τὸ ὑ. is occasionally used of what underlies or is presupposed in some other way, e. g. of the positive termini presupposed by change, Id.Ph.225a3-7. b. exist, τὸ ἐκτὸς ὑποκείμενον the external reality, Stoic.2.48, cf. Epicur.Ep.1pp.12,24 U.; “φῶς εἶναι τὸ χρῶμα τοῖς ὑ. ἐπιπῖπτον” Aristarch. Sam. ap. Placit.1.15.5; “τὸ κρῖνον τί τε φαίνεται μόνον καὶ τί σὺν τῷ φαίνεσθαι ἔτι καὶ κατ᾽ ἀλήθειαν ὑπόκειται” S.E.M.7.143, cf. 83,90,91, 10.240; = ὑπάρχω, τὰ ὑποκείμενα πράγματα the existing state of affairs, Plb.11.28.2, cf. 11.29.1, 15.8.11,13, 3.31.6, Eun.VSp.474 B.; “Τίτος ἐξ ὑποκειμένων ἐνίκα, χρώμενος ὁπλις μοῖς καὶ τάξεσιν αἷς παρέλαβε” Plu.Comp.Phil.Flam.2; “τῆς αὐτῆς δυνάμεως ὑποκειμένης” Id.2.336b; “ἐχομένου τοῦ προσιόντος λόγου ὡς πρὸς τὸν ὑποκείμενον” A.D.Synt.122.17. c. ὁ ὑ. ἐνιαυτός the year in question, D.S.11.75; οἱ ὑ. καιροί the time in question, Id.16.40, Plb.2.63.6, cf. Plu.Comp.Sol.Publ.4; τοῦ ὑ. μηνός the current month, PTeb.14.14 (ii B. C.), al.; ἐκ τοῦ ὑ. φόρου in return for a reduction from the said rent, PCair.Zen.649.18 (iii B. C.); πρὸς τὸ ὑ. νόει according to the context, Gp.6.11.7. Note that both Grice and Strawson oppose Quine’s Humeian dogma that, since the subjectum is beyond comprehension, we can do with a ‘predicate’ calculus, only. Vide Strawson, “Subject and predicate in logic and grammar.” Refs: H. P. Grice, Work on the categories with P. F. Strawson, The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC MSS 90/135c.

subperceptum. In WoW:139, Grice refers to “the pillar box seems red” as “SUB-PERCEPTUAL,” the first of a trio. The second is the perceptual, “A perceives that the pillar box is red,” and the third, “The pillar box is red.” He wishes to explore the truth-conditons of the subperceptum, and although first in the list, is last in the analsysis. Grice proposes: ‘The pillar box seems red” iff (1) the pillar box is red; (2) A perceives that the pillar box is red; and (3) (1) causes (2). In this there is a parallelism with his quasi-causal account of ‘know’ (and his caveat that ‘literally,’ we may just know that 2 + 2 = 4 (and such) (“Meaning Revisited). In what he calls ‘accented sub-perceptum,’ the idea is that the U is choosing the superceptum (“seems”) as opposed to his other obvious choices (“The pillar box IS red,”) and the passive-voice version of the ‘perceptum’: “The pillar box IS PERCEIVED red.” The ‘accent’ generates the D-or-D implicatum: By uttering “The pillar box seems red,” U IMPLICATES that it is denied that or doubted that the pillar box is perceived red by U or that the pillar box is red. In this, the accented version contrasts with the unaccented version where the implicatum is NOT generated, and the U remains uncommitted re: this doubt or denial implicatum. It is this uncommitment that will allow to disimplicate or cancel the implicatum should occasion arise. The reference Grice makes between the sub-perceptum and the perceptum is grammatical, not psychological. Or else he may be meaning that in uttering, “I perceive that the pillar box is red,” one needs to appeal to Kant’s apperception of the ego. Refs.: Pecocke, Sense and content, Grice, BANC.

subscriptum: Grice plays with various roots of ‘scriptum.’ He was bound to. Moore had showed that ‘good’ was not ‘descriptive.’ Grice thinks it’s pseudo-descriptive. So here we have the first, ‘descriptum,’ where what is meant is Griceian: By uttering the “The cat is on the mat” U means, by his act of describing, that the cat is on the mat. Then there’s the ‘prae-scriptum.’ Oddly, Grice, when criticizing the ‘descriptive’ fallacy, seldom mentions the co-relative ‘prescriptum.’ “Good” would be understood in terms of a ‘prae-scriptum’ that appeals to his utterer’s intentions. Then there’s the subscriptum. This may have various use, both in Grice. “I subscribe,” and in the case of “Pegasus flies.” Where the utterer subscribes to his ontological commitment. subscript device. Why does Grice think we NEED a subscript device? Obviously, his wife would not use it. I mean, you cannot pronounce a subscript device or a square-bracket device. So his point is ironic. “Ordinary” language does not need it. But if Strawson and Quine are going to be picky about stuff – ontological commitment, ‘existential presupposition,’ let’s subscribe and bracket! Note that Quine’s response to Grice is perfunctory: “Brackets would have done!” Grice considers a quartet of utterances: Jack wants someone to marry him; Jack wants someone or other to marry him; Jack wants a particular person to marry him, and There is someone whom Jack wants to marry him.Grice notes that there are clearly at least two possible readings of an utterance like our (i): a first reading in which, as Grice puts it, (i) might be paraphrased by (ii). A second reading is one in which it might be paraphrased by (iii) or by (iv). Grice goes on to symbolize the phenomenon in his own version of a first-order predicate calculus. Ja wants that p becomes W^jap where ja stands for the individual constant Jack as a super-script attached to the predicate standing for Jacks psychological state or attitude. Grice writes: Using the apparatus of classical predicate logic, we might hope to represent, respectively, the external reading and the internal reading (involving an intentio secunda or intentio obliqua) as (Ǝx)W^jaFxja and W^ja(Ǝx)Fxja. Grice then goes on to discuss a slightly more complex, or oblique, scenario involving this second internal reading, which is the one that interests us, as it involves an intentio seconda.Grice notes: But suppose that Jack wants a specific individual, Jill, to marry him, and this because Jack has been deceived into thinking that his friend Joe has a highly delectable sister called Jill, though in fact Joe is an only child. The Jill Jack eventually goes up the hill with is, coincidentally, another Jill, possibly existent. Let us recall that Grices main focus of the whole essay is, as the title goes, emptiness! In these circumstances, one is inclined to say that (i) is true only on reading (vii), where the existential quantifier occurs within the scope of the psychological-state or -attitude verb, but we cannot now represent (ii) or (iii), with Jill being vacuous, by (vi), where the existential quantifier (Ǝx) occurs outside the scope of the psychological-attitude verb, want, since [well,] Jill does not really exist, except as a figment of Jacks imagination. In a manoeuver that I interpret as purely intentionalist, and thus favouring by far Suppess over Chomskys characterisation of Grice as a mere behaviourist, Grice hopes that we should be provided with distinct representations for two familiar readings of, now: Jack wants Jill to marry him and Jack wants Jill to marry him. It is at this point that Grice applies a syntactic scope notation involving sub-scripted numerals, (ix) and (x), where the numeric values merely indicate the order of introduction of the symbol to which it is attached in a deductive schema for the predicate calculus in question. Only the first formulation represents the internal reading (where ji stands for Jill): W₂^ja4F₁ji₃ja₄ and W₃^ja4F₂ji₁ja_4. Note that in the second formulation, the individual constant for Jill, ji, is introduced prior to want, – jis sub-script is 1, while Ws sub-script is the higher numerical value 3. Grice notes: Given that Jill does not exist, only the internal reading can be true, or alethically satisfactory. Grice sums up his reflections on the representation of the opaqueness of a verb standing for a psychological state or attitude like that expressed by wanting with one observation that further marks him as an intentionalist, almost of a Meinongian type. He is willing to allow for existential phrases in cases of vacuous designata, provided they occur within opaque psychological-state or attitude verbs, and he thinks that by doing this, he is being faithful to the richness and exuberance of ordinary discourse, while keeping Quine happy. As Grice puts it, we should also have available to us also three neutral, yet distinct, (Ǝx)-quantificational forms (together with their isomorphs), as a philosopher who thinks that Wittgenstein denies a distinction, craves for a generality! Jill now becomes x. W4ja5Ǝx3F1x2ja5, Ǝx5W2ja5F1x4ja3, Ǝx5W3ja4F1x2ja4. As Grice notes, since in (xii) the individual variable x (ranging over Jill) does not dominate the segment following the (Ǝx) quantifier, the formulation does not display any existential or de re, force, and is suitable therefore for representing the internal readings (ii) or (iii), if we have to allow, as we do have, if we want to faithfully represent ordinary discourse, for the possibility of expressing the fact that a particular person, Jill, does not actually exist.

sousentendu, used by, of all people, Mill. An Examination of Sir William Hamilton's Philosophybooks.google.com › books ... and speak with any approach to precision, and adopting into logic a mere sous-entendu of common conversation in its most unprecise form. If I say to any one, .

suggestio falsi – suggest. Grice explores hint versus suggest in Retrospective epilogue. Also cited by Strawson and Wiggins. The emissor’s implication is exactly this suggestio, for which suggestum. To suggest, advise, prompt, offer, bring to mind: “quoties aequitas restitutionem suggerit,” Dig. 4, 6, 26 fin.; cf.: “quae (res) suggerit, ut Italicarum rerum esse credantur eae res,” reminds, admonishes, ib. 28, 5, 35 fin.: “quaedam de republicā,” Aur. Vict. Vir. Ill. 66, 2. — Absol.: “suggerente conjuge,” at the instigation of, Aur. Vict. Epit. 41, 11; cf.: “suggerente irā,” id. ib. 12, 10 suggestio falsi. Pl. suggestiones falsi.  [mod.L., = suggestion of what is false.]  A misrepresentation of the truth whereby something incorrect is implied to be true; an indirect lie. Often in contexts with suppressio veri.  QUOTES:  1815 H. Maddock Princ. & Pract. Chancery I. 208  Whenever Suppressio veri or Suggestio falsi occur..they afford a sufficient ground for setting aside any Release or Conveyance.   1855 Newspaper & Gen. Reader's Pocket Compan. i.4  He was bound to say that the suppressio veri on that occasion approached very nearly to a positive suggestio falsi.   1898 Kipling Stalky & Co. (1899) 36  It seems..that they had held back material facts; that they were guilty both of suppressio veri and suggestio falsi.  1907 W. de Morgan Alice-for-Short xxxvi. 389   That's suppressio veri and suggestio falsi! Besides, it's fibs!   1962 J. Wilson Public Schools & Private Practice i. 19  It is rare to find a positively verifiable untruth in a school brochure: but it is equally rare not to find a great many suggestiones falsi, particularly as regards the material comfort and facilities available.   1980 D. Newsome On Edge of Paradise 7  There are undoubted cases of suppressio veri; on the other hand, he appears to eschew suggestio falsi.  --- Fibs indeed. Suppress, suggest.   Write: "Griceland, Inc."   "Yes, I agree to become a Doctor in Gricean Studies"   EXAM QUESTION:  1. Discuss suggestio falsi in terms of detachability.  2. Compare suppresio veri and suggestion falsi in connection with "The king of France is bald" uttered during Napoleon's time.  3. Invent things for 'suppressio falsi' and 'suggestio veri'.  4. No. You cannot go to the bathroom.

suppresio veri: to suppress. suggestio falsi. Pl. suggestiones falsi.  [mod.L., = suggestion of what is false.]  A misrepresentation of the truth whereby something incorrect is implied to be true; an indirect lie. Often in contexts with suppressio veri.  QUOTES:  1815 H. Maddock Princ. & Pract. Chancery I. 208  Whenever Suppressio veri or Suggestio falsi occur..they afford a sufficient ground for setting aside any Release or Conveyance.   1855 Newspaper & Gen. Reader's Pocket Compan. i.4  He was bound to say that the suppressio veri on that occasion approached very nearly to a positive suggestio falsi.   1898 Kipling Stalky & Co. (1899) 36  It seems..that they had held back material facts; that they were guilty both of suppressio veri and suggestio falsi.  1907 W. de Morgan Alice-for-Short xxxvi. 389   That's suppressio veri and suggestio falsi! Besides, it's fibs!   1962 J. Wilson Public Schools & Private Practice i. 19  It is rare to find a positively verifiable untruth in a school brochure: but it is equally rare not to find a great many suggestiones falsi, particularly as regards the material comfort and facilities available.   1980 D. Newsome On Edge of Paradise 7  There are undoubted cases of suppressio veri; on the other hand, he appears to eschew suggestio falsi.  --- Fibs indeed. Suppress, suggest.   Write: "Griceland, Inc."   "Yes, I agree to become a Doctor in Gricean Studies"   EXAM QUESTION:  1. Discuss suggestio falsi in terms of detachability.  2. Compare suppresio veri and suggestion falsi in connection with "The king of France is bald" uttered during Napoleon's time.  3. Invent things for 'suppressio falsi' and 'suggestio veri'.  4. No. You cannot go to the bathroom.

summum genus. The categories. There is infimum genus, or sub-summum. Talk of categories becomes informal in Grice when he ‘echoes’ Kant in the mention of four ‘functions’ that generate for Kant twelve categories. Grice however uses the functions themselves, echoing Ariskant, rather, as ‘caegory’. We have then a category of conversational quantity (involved in a principle of maximization of conversational informativeness). We have a category of conversational quality (or a desideratum of conversational candour). We have a category of conversational relation (cf. Strawson’s principle of relevance along with Strawson’s principles of the presumption of knowledge and the presumption of ignorance). Lastly, we have a category of conversational mode. For some reason, Grice uses ‘manner’ sometimes in lieu of Meiklejohn’s apt translation of Kant’s modality into the shorter ‘mode.’ The four have Aristotelian pedigree, indeed Grecian and Graeco-Roman: The quantity is Kant’s quantitat which is Aristotle’s posotes (sic abstract) rendered in Roman as ‘quantitas.’ Of course, Aristotle derives ‘posotes,’ from ‘poson,’ the quantum. No quantity without quantum. The quality is Kant’s qualitat, which again has Grecian and Graeco-Roman pediegree. It is Aristotel’s poiotes (sic in abstract), rendered in Roman as qualitas. Again, derived from the more basic ‘poion,’ or ‘quale.’ Aristotle was unable to find a ‘-tes’ ending form for what Kant has as ‘relation.’ ‘pros it’ is used, and first translated into Roman as ‘relatio.’ We see here that we are talking of a ‘summum genus.’ For who other but a philosopher is going to lecture on the ‘pros it’? What Aristotle means is that Socrates is to the right of Plato. Finally, for Grice’s mode, there is Kant’s wrong ‘modalitat,’ since this refers to Aristotle ‘te’ and translated in Roman as ‘modus,’ which Meiklejohn, being a better classicist than Kant, renders as ‘mode,’ and not the pretentious sounding ‘modality.’ Now for Kant, 12 categories are involved here. Why? Because he subdivides each summum genus into three sub-summum or ‘inferiore’ genus. This is complex. Kant would DISAGREE with Grice’s idea that a subject can JUDGE in generic terms, say, about the quantum. The subject has THREE scenarios. It’s best to reverse the order, for surely unity comes before totality. One scenario, he utters a SINGULAR or individual utterance (Grice on ‘the’). The CATEGORY is the first category, THE UNUM or UNITAS. The one. The unity. Second scenario, he utters a PARTICULAR utterance (Grice’s “some (at least one). Here we encounter the SECOND category, that of PLURALITAS, the plurum, plurality. It’s a good thing Kant forgot that the Greeks had a dual number, and that Urquhart has fourth number, a re-dual. A third scenario: the nirvana. He utters a UNIVERSAL (totum) utterance (Grice on “all”). The category is that of TOTUM, TOTALITAS, totality. Kant does not deign to specify if he means substitutional or non-substitutional. For the quale, there are again three scenarios for Kant, and he would deny that the subject is confronted with the FUNCTION quale and be able to formulate a judgement. The first scenario involves the subject uttering a PROPOSITIO DEDICATIVA (Grice elaborates on this before introducing ‘not’ in “Indicative conditionals” – “Let’s start with some unstructured amorophous proposition.” Here the category is NOT AFFIRMATION, but the nirvana “REALITAS,” Reality, reale.Second scenario, subject utters a PROPOSITIO ABDICATIVA (Grice on ‘not’). While Kant does not consider affirmatio a category (why should he?), he does consider NEGATIO a category. Negation. See abdicatum. Third scenario, subject utters an PROPOSITIO INFINITA. Here the category is that of LIMITATION, which is quite like NEGATIO (cf. privatio, stelesis, versus habitus or hexis), but not quite. Possibly LIMITATUM. Regarding the ‘pros ti.’ The first scenario involves a categorema, PROPOSITIO CATEGORICA. Here Kant seems to think that there is ONE category called “INHERENCE AND SUBSTISTENCE or substance and accident. There seem rather two. He will go to this ‘pair’ formulation in one more case in the relation, and for the three under modus. If we count the ‘categorical pairs’ as being two categories. The total would not be 12 categories but 17, which is a rather ugly number for a list of categories, unles it is not. Kant is being VERY serious here, because if he has SUBSTISTENCE or SUBSTANCE as a category, this is SECUNDA SUBSTANTIA or ‘deutero-ousia.’ It is a no-no to count the prote ousia or PRIMA SUBSTANTIA as a category. It is defined as THE THING which cannot be predicated of anything! “SUMBEBEKOS” is a trick of Kant, for surely EVERYTHING BUT THE SUBSTANCE can be seen as an ‘accidens’ (In fact, those who deny categories, reduce them to ‘attribute’, or ‘property.’ The second scenario involves an ‘if’ Grice on ‘if’ – PROPOSITIO CONDITIONALIS – hypothetike protasis -- this involves for the first time a MOLECULAR proposition. As in the previous case, we have a ‘category pair’, which is formulated either as CAUSALITY (CAUSALITAS) and DEPENDENCE (Dependentia), or “cause’ (CAUSA) and ‘effect’ (Effectum). Kant is having in mind Strawson’s account of ‘if’ (The influence of P. F. Strawson on Kant). For since this is the hypothetical, Kant is suggeseting that in ‘if p, q’ q depends on p, or q is an effect of its cause, p. As in “If it rains, the boots are in the closet.” (J). The third scenario also involves a molectural proposition, A DISJUNCTUM. PROPOSITIO DISJUNCTIVA. Note that in Kant, ‘if’ before ‘or’! His implicature: subordination before coordination, which makes sense. Grice on ‘or.’ FOR SOME REASON, the category here for Kant is that of COMMUNITAS (community) or RECIPROCITAS, reciprocity. He seems to be suggesting that if you turn to the right or to the left, you are reciprocally forbidden to keep on going straight. For the modus, similar. Here Kant is into modality. Again, it is best to re-order the scenarios in terms of priority. Here it’s the middle which is basic. The first scenario, subject utters an ASSERTORIC. The category is a pair: EXISTENCE (how is this different from REALITY) and NON-EXISTENCE (how is this different from negation?). He has in mind: ‘the cat is in the room,’ ‘the room is empty.’ Second scenario, the subject doubts. subject utters a problematical. (“The pillar box may be red”). Here we have a category pair: POSSIBILITIAS (possibility) and, yes, IMPOSSIBILITAS – IMPOSSIBILITY. This is odd, because ‘impossibility’ goes rather with the negation of necessity. The third and last scenario, subject utters an APODEICTIC. Here again there is a category pair – yielding 17 as the final number --: NECESSITAS, necessity, and guess what, CONTINGENTIA, or contingency. Surely, possibilitas and contingentia are almost the same thing. It may be what Grice has in mind when he blames a philosopher to state that ‘what is actual is not also possible.’ Or not.

syntactics: When Grice uses ‘unsructured’ he sometimes expands this into ‘syntactically unstructured.’ Since syntax need not be linguistic, this is an interesting semiotic perspective by Grice. He is allowing for compositionality in a semotic system with a comibinatory other than the first, second, and third articulation. The Latinate is ‘contactum.’ Morris thought he was being bright when he proposed ‘syntactics,’ “long for syntax,” he wrote.  syntax, περὶ τῆς ς. τῶν λεγομένων, title of work by Chrysipp., Stoic.2.6, cf. Plu.2.731f (pl.); “τὴν ς. τῶν ὀνομάτων” Gal.16.736, cf. 720; περὶ συντάξεως, title of work by A.D.; but also, compound forms, Id.Conj.214.7; ποιεῖσθαι μετά τινος τὴν ς. ib.221.19; also, rule for combination of sounds or letters, τὸ χ (in δέγμενος）“ εἰς γ μετεβλήθη, τῆς ς. οὕτως ἀπαιτούσης” EM252.45, cf. Luc.Jud. Voc.3; also, connected speech, ἐν τῇ ς. ἐγκλιτέον Sch.Il.16.85.Grice’s presupposition is that a ‘syntactics’ is not enough for a system to be a ‘communication-system’. Nothing is communicated. With the syntagma, there is no communicatum. Grice loved two devices of the syntactic kind: subscripts and square brackets (for the assignment of common-ground status).  Grice is a conservative (dissenting rationalist) when it comes to syntax and semantics. He hardly uses pragmatics albeit in a loose way (pragmatic import, pragmatic inference), but was aware of Morriss triangle. Syntax is presented along the lines of Gentzen, i.e. a system of natural deduction in terms of inference rules of introduction and elimination for each formal device. Semantics pertains rather to Witterss truth-values, i.e. the assignment of a satisfactory-valuation: the true and the good. A syntactic approach to Grice’s System does not require value-assignment. The system is constructed alla Gentzen with introduction and elimination rules which are regarded as syntactic in nature.  One can easily check that the rules statedabove adequately characterise the meaning of classical conjunction which is true iff both conjuncts are true. Hence the syntactic deducibility relation coincides with the semantic relation of /= or logical consequence (or entailment).  Refs.: The most direct source is “Vacuous names,” but the keyword ‘syntax’ is helpful. The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

tautologum: As Strawson and Wiggins note, by coining implicature Grice is mainly interested in having the MAN implying this or that, as opposed to what the man implies implying this or that. So, in Strawson and Wiggins’s rephrasing, the implicature is to be distinguished with the logical and necessary implication, i. e., the ‘tautological’ implication. Grice uses ‘tautological’ variously. It is tautological that we smell smells, for example. This is an extension of ‘paradigm-case,’ re: analyticity. Without ‘analytic’ there is no ‘tautologicum.’ tautŏlŏgĭa , ae, f., = ταυτολογία,I.a repetition of the same meaning in different words, tautology, Mart. Cap. 5, § 535; Charis, p. 242 P. ταὐτολογ-έω ,A.repeat what has been said, “περί τινος” Plb.1.1.3; “ὑπέρ τινος” Id.1.79.7; “τ. τὸν λόγον” Str.12.3.27:—abs., Plb.36.12.2, Phld. Po.Herc.994.30, Hermog.Inv.3.15. Oddly why Witters restricts tautology to truth-table propositional logic, Grice’s two examples are predicate calculus: Women are women and war is war. 4.46 GER [→OGD | →P/M] Unter den möglichen Gruppen von Wahrheitsbedingungen gibt es zwei extreme Fälle. In dem einen Fall ist der Satz für sämtliche Wahrheitsmöglichkeiten der Elementarsätze wahr. Wir sagen, die Wahrheitsbedingungen sind t a u t o l o g i s c h. Im zweiten Fall ist der Satz für sämtliche Wahrheitsmöglichkeiten falsch: Die Wahrheitsbedingungen sind k o n t r a d i k t o r i s c h. Im ersten Fall nennen wir den Satz eine Tautologie, im zweiten Fall eine Kontradiktion. 4.461 GER [→OGD | →P/M] Der Satz zeigt was er sagt, die Tautologie und die Kontradiktion, dass sie nichts sagen. Die Tautologie hat keine Wahrheitsbedingungen, denn sie ist bedingungslos wahr; und die Kontradiktion ist unter keiner Bedingung wahr. Tautologie und Kontradiktion sind sinnlos. (Wie der Punkt, von dem zwei Pfeile in entgegengesetzter Richtung auseinandergehen.) (Ich weiß z. B. nichts über das Wetter, wenn ich weiß, dass es regnet oder nicht regnet.) 4.4611 GER [→OGD | →P/M] Tautologie und Kontradiktion sind aber nicht unsinnig; sie gehören zum Symbolismus, und zwar ähnlich wie die „0“ zum Symbolismus der Arithmetik. 4.462 GER [→OGD | →P/M] Tautologie und Kontradiktion sind nicht Bilder der Wirklichkeit. Sie stellen keine mögliche Sachlage dar. Denn jene lässt j e d e mögliche Sachlage zu, diese k e i n e. In der Tautologie heben die Bedingungen der Übereinstimmung mit der Welt—die darstellenden Beziehungen—einander auf, so dass sie in keiner darstellenden Beziehung zur Wirklichkeit steht. 4.463 GER [→OGD | →P/M] Die Wahrheitsbedingungen bestimmen den Spielraum, der den Tatsachen durch den Satz gelassen wird. (Der Satz, das Bild, das Modell, sind im negativen Sinne wie ein fester Körper, der die Bewegungsfreiheit der anderen beschränkt; im positiven Sinne, wie der von fester Substanz begrenzte Raum, worin ein Körper Platz hat.) Die Tautologie lässt der Wirklichkeit den ganzen—unendlichen—logischen Raum; die Kontradiktion erfüllt den ganzen logischen Raum und lässt der Wirklichkeit keinen Punkt. Keine von beiden kann daher die Wirklichkeit irgendwie bestimmen. 4.464 GER [→OGD | →P/M] Die Wahrheit der Tautologie ist gewiss, des Satzes möglich, der Kontradiktion unmöglich. (Gewiss, möglich, unmöglich: Hier haben wir das Anzeichen jener Gradation, die wir in der Wahrscheinlichkeitslehre brauchen.) 4.465 GER [→OGD | →P/M] Das logische Produkt einer Tautologie und eines Satzes sagt dasselbe, wie der Satz. Also ist jenes Produkt identisch mit dem Satz. Denn man kann das Wesentliche des Symbols nicht ändern, ohne seinen Sinn zu ändern. 4.466 GER [→OGD | →P/M] Einer bestimmten logischen Verbindung von Zeichen entspricht eine bestimmte logische Verbindung ihrer Bedeutungen; j e d e b e l i e - b i g e Verbindung entspricht nur den unverbundenen Zeichen. Das heißt, Sätze, die für jede Sachlage wahr sind, können überhaupt keine Zeichenverbindungen sein, denn sonst könnten ihnen nur bestimmte Verbindungen von Gegenständen entsprechen. (Und keiner logischen Verbindung entspricht k e i n e Verbindung der Gegenstände.) Tautologie und Kontradiktion sind die Grenzfälle der Zeichenverbindung, nämlich ihre Auflösung. 4.4661 GER [→OGD | →P/M] Freilich sind auch in der Tautologie und Kontradiktion die Zeichen noch mit einander verbunden, d. h. sie stehen in Beziehungen zu einander, aber diese Beziehungen sind bedeu- tungslos, dem S y m b o l unwesentlich. 4.46 OGD [→GER | →P/M] Among the possible groups of truthconditions there are two extreme cases. In the one case the proposition is true for all the truth-possibilities of the elementary propositions. We say that the truth-conditions are tautological. In the second case the proposition is false for all the truth-possibilities. The truth-conditions are self-contradictory. In the first case we call the proposition a tautology, in the second case a contradiction. 4.461 OGD [→GER | →P/M] The proposition shows what it says, the tautology and the contradiction that they say nothing. The tautology has no truth-conditions, for it is unconditionally true; and the contradiction is on no condition true. Tautology and contradiction are without sense. (Like the point from which two arrows go out in opposite directions.) (I know, e.g. nothing about the weather, when I know that it rains or does not rain.) 4.4611 OGD [→GER | →P/M] Tautology and contradiction are, however, not nonsensical; they are part of the symbol- ism, in the same way that “0” is part of the symbolism of Arithmetic. 4.462 OGD [→GER | →P/M] Tautology and contradiction are not pictures of the reality. They present no possible state of affairs. For the one allows every possible state of affairs, the other none. In the tautology the conditions of agreement with the world—the presenting relations— cancel one another, so that it stands in no presenting relation to reality. 4.463 OGD [→GER | →P/M] The truth-conditions determine the range, which is left to the facts by the proposition. (The proposition, the picture, the model, are in a negative sense like a solid body, which restricts the free movement of another: in a positive sense, like the space limited by solid substance, in which a body may be placed.) Tautology leaves to reality the whole infinite logical space; contradiction fills the whole logi- cal space and leaves no point to reality. Neither of them, therefore, can in any way determine reality. 4.464 OGD [→GER | →P/M] The truth of tautology is certain, of propositions possible, of contradiction impossible. (Certain, possible, impossible: here we have an indication of that gradation which we need in the theory of probability.) 4.465 OGD [→GER | →P/M] The logical product of a tautology and a proposition says the same as the proposition. Therefore that product is identical with the proposition. For the essence of the symbol cannot be altered without altering its sense. 4.466 OGD [→GER | →P/M] To a definite logical combination of signs corresponds a definite logical combination of their meanings; every arbitrary combination only corresponds to the unconnected signs. That is, propositions which are true for ev- ery state of affairs cannot be combinations of signs at all, for otherwise there could only correspond to them definite combinations of objects. (And to no logical combination corresponds no combination of the objects.) Tautology and contradiction are the limiting cases of the combination of symbols, namely their dissolution. 4.4661 OGD [→GER | →P/M] Of course the signs are also combined with one another in the tautology and contradiction, i.e. they stand in relations to one another, but these relations are meaningless, unessential to the symbol. 4.46 P/M [→GER | →OGD] Among the possible groups of truthconditions there are two extreme cases. In one of these cases the proposition is true for all the truth-possibilities of the elementary propositions. We say that the truth-conditions are tautological. In the second case the proposition is false for all the truth-possibilities: the truth-conditions are contradictory. In the first case we call the proposition a tautology; in the second, a contradiction. 4.461 P/M [→GER | →OGD] Propositions show what they say: tautolo- gies and contradictions show that they say nothing. A tautology has no truth-conditions, since it is unconditionally true: and a contradiction is true on no condition. Tautologies and contradictions lack sense. (Like a point from which two arrows go out in opposite directions to one another.) (For example, I know nothing about the weather when I know that it is either raining or not raining.) 4.4611 P/M [→GER | →OGD] Tautologies and contradictions are not, however, nonsensical. They are part of the symbolism, much as ‘0’ is part of the symbolism of arithmetic. 4.462 P/M [→GER | →OGD] Tautologies and contradictions are not pictures of reality. They do not represent any possible situations. For the former admit all possible situations, and latter none. In a tautology the conditions of agreement with the world—the representational relations—cancel one another, so that it does not stand in any representational relation to reality. 4.463 P/M [→GER | →OGD] The truth-conditions of a proposition determine the range that it leaves open to the facts. (A proposition, a picture, or a model is, in the negative sense, like a solid body that restricts the freedom of movement of others, and, in the positive sense, like a space bounded by solid substance in which there is room for a body.) A tautology leaves open to reality the whole—the infinite whole—of logical space: a contradiction fills the whole of logical space leaving no point of it for reality. Thus neither of them can determine reality in any way. 4.464 P/M [→GER | →OGD] A tautology’s truth is certain, a proposition’s possible, a contradiction’s impossible. (Certain, possible, impossible: here we have the first indication of the scale that we need in the theory of probability.) 4.465 P/M [→GER | →OGD] The logical product of a tautology and a proposition says the same thing as the proposition. This product, therefore, is identical with the proposition. For it is impossible to alter what is essential to a symbol without altering its sense. 4.466 P/M [→GER | →OGD] What corresponds to a determinate logical combination of signs is a determinate logical combination of their meanings. It is only to the uncombined signs that absolutely any combination corresponds. In other words, propositions that are true for every situation cannot be combinations of signs at all, since, if they were, only determinate combinations of objects could correspond to them. (And what is not a logical combination has no combination of objects corresponding to it.) Tautology and contradiction are the limiting cases—indeed the disintegration—of the combination of signs. 4.4661 P/M [→GER | →OGD] Admittedly the signs are still combined with one another even in tautologies and contradictions—i.e. they stand in certain relations to one another: but these relations have no meaning, they are not essential to the symbol. Grice would often use ‘tautological,’ and ‘self-contradiction’ presupposes ‘analyticity,’ or rather the analytic-synthetic distinction. Is it contradictory, or a self-contradiction, to say that one’s neighbour’s three-year-old child is an adult? Is there an implicatum for ‘War is not war’? Grice refers to Bayes in WOW re Grices paradox, and to crazy Bayesy, as Peter Achinstein does (Newton was crazy, but not Bayesy).  We can now, in principle, characterize the desirability of the action a 1 , relative to each end (E1 and E2), and to each combination of ends (here just E1 and E2), as a function of the desirability of the end and the probability that the action a 1 will realize that end, or combination of ends. If we envisage a range of possible actions, which includes a 1 together with other actions, we can imagine that each such action has a certain degree of desirability relative to each end (E1 and (or) E2) and to their combination. If we suppose that, for each possible action, these desirabilities can be compounded (perhaps added), then we can suppose that one particular possible action scored higher (in actiondesirability relative to these ends) than any alternative possible action; and that this is the action which wins out; that is, is the action which is, or at least should, end p.105 be performed. (The computation would in fact be more complex than I have described, once account is taken of the fact that the ends involved are often not definite (determinate) states of affairs  (like becoming President), but are variable in respect of the degree to which they might be realized (if ones end is to make a profit from a deal, that profit might be of a varying magnitude); so one would have to consider not merely the likelihood of a particular actions realizing the end of making a profit, but also the likelihood of its realizing that end to this or that degree; and this would considerably complicate the computational problem.) No doubt most readers are far too sensible ever to have entertained any picture even remotely resembling the "Crazy-Bayesy" one I have just described. Grice was fascinated by the fact that paradox translates the Grecian neuter paradoxon. Some of the paradoxes of entailment, entailment and paradoxes. This is not the first time Grice uses paradox. As a classicist, he was aware of the nuances between paradox (or paradoxon, as he preferred, via Latin paradoxum, and aporia, for example. He was interested in Strawsons treatment of this or that paradox of entailment. He even called his own paradox involving if and probablility Grices paradox.

telementationalism: The coinage is interesting. Since Grice has an essay on ‘modest mentalism,’ and would often use ‘mental’ for ‘psychological,’ it does make sense. ‘Ideationalism’ is analogous. this is a special note, or rather, a very moving proem, on Grices occasion of delivering his lectures on ‘Aspects of reason and reasoning’ at Oxford as the Locke Lectures at Merton. Particularly apt in mentioning, with humility, his having failed, *thrice* [sic] to obtain the Locke lectureship, Strawson did, at once, but feeling safe under the ægis of that great English philosopher (viz. Locke! always implicated, never explicited) now. Grice starts the proem in a very moving, shall we say, emotional, way: I find it difficult to convey to you just how happy I am, and how honoured I feel, in being invited to give these lectures. Difficult, but not impossible. I think of this university and this city, it has a cathedral, which were my home for thirty-six years, as my spiritual and intellectual parents. The almost majestic plural is Grices implicature to the town and gown! Whatever I am was originally fashioned here; I never left Oxford, Oxford made me, and I find it a moving experience to be, within these splendid and none too ancient walls, once more engaged in my old occupation of rendering what is clear obscure, by flouting the desideratum of conversational clarity and the conversational maxim, avoid obscurity of expression, under be perspicuous [sic]!. Grices implicature on none too ancient seems to be addressed to the truly ancient walls that saw Athenian dialectic! On the other hand, Grices funny variant on the obscurum per obscurius ‒ what Baker found as Grices skill in rendering an orthodoxy into a heterodoxy! Almost! By clear Grice implicates Lewis and his clarity is not enough! I am, at the same time, proud of my mid-Atlantic [two-world] status, and am, therefore, delighted that the Old World should have called me in, or rather recalled me, to redress, for once, the balance of my having left her for the New. His implicature seems to be: Strictly, I never left? Grice concludes his proem: I am, finally, greatly heartened by my consciousness of the fact that that great English philosopher, under whose ægis I am now speaking, has in the late afternoon of my days extended to me his Lectureship as a gracious consolation for a record threefold denied to me, in my early morning, of his Prize. I pray that my present offerings may find greater favour in his sight than did those of long ago. They did! Even if Locke surely might have found favour to Grices former offerings, too, Im sure. Refs.: The allusions to Locke are in “Aspects.” Good references under ‘ideationalism,’ above, especially in connection with Myro’s ‘modest mentalism,’ The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

teleology: the objectivum. Grice speaks of the objective as a maxim. This is very Latinate. So if the maxim is an objective, the goal is the objective, or objectivum. Meaning "goal, aim" (1881) is from military term objective point (1852), reflecting a sense evolution in French. This is an expansion on the desideratum. Cf. ‘desirable,’ and ‘desirability,’ and ‘end.’ Grice feels like introducing goal-oriented conceptual machinery. In a later stage of his career he ensured that this machinery be seen as NOT mechanistically derivable. Which is odd seeing that in the ‘progression’ of the ‘soul,’ he allows for talk of adaptiveness and survival which suggest a mechanist explanation. If an agent has a desideratum that means that, to echo Bennett, A displays a goal-oriented behaviour, where the goal is the ‘telos.’ Smoke cannot ‘mean’ fire, because smoke doesn’t really behave in a goal-oriented matter. Grice does play with the idea of finality in nature, because that would allow him to justify the objectivity of his system. how does soul originate from matter? Does the vegetal soul have a telos. Purposive-behaviour is obvious in plants (phototropism). If it is present in the vegetal soul, it is present in the animal soul. If it is present in the animal soul, it is present in the rational soul. With each stage, alla Hartmann, there are distinctions in the specification of the telos. Grice could be more continental than Scheler! Grices métier. Unity of science was a very New-World expression that Grice did not quite buy. Grice was brought up in a world, the Old World, indeed, as he calls it in his Proem to the Locke lectures, of Snows two cultures. At the time of Grices philosophising, philosophers such as Winch (who indeed quotes fro Grice) were contesting the idea that science is unitary, when it comes to the explanation of rational behaviour. Since a philosophical approach to the explanation of rational behaviour, including conversational behaviour (to account for the conversational implicata) is his priority, Grice needs to distinguish himself from those who propose a unified science, which Grice regards as eliminationist and reductionist. Grice is ambivalent about science and also playful (philosophia regina scientiarum). Grice seems to presuppose, or implicate, that, since there is the devil of scientism, science cannot get at teleology. The devil is in the physiological details, which are irrelevant. The language Grice uses to describe his Ps as goal-oriented, aimed at survival and reproduction, seems teleological and somewhat scientific, though. But he means that ironically! As the scholastics use it, teleology is a science, the science of telos, or finality (cf. Aristotle on telos aitia, causa finalis. The unity of science is threatened by teleology, and vice versa. Unified science seeks for a mechanistically derivable teleology. But Grices sympathies lie for detached finality. Grice is obsessed with the Greek idea of a telos, as slightly overused by Aristotle. Grice thinks that some actions are for their own sake. What is the telos of Oscar Wilde? Can we speak of Oscar Wilde’s métier? If a tiger is to tigerise, a human is to humanise, and a person is to personise. Grice thought that teleology is a key philosophical way to contest mechanism, so popular in The New World. Strictly, and Grice knew this, teleology is constituted as a discipline. One term that Cicero was unable to translate! For the philosopher, teleology is that part of philosophy that studies the realm of the telos. Informally, teleological is opposed to mechanistic. Grice is interested in the mechanism/teleology debate, indeed jumps into it, with a goal in mind! Grice finds some New-World philosophers too mechanistic-oriented, in contrast with the more two-culture atmosphere he was familiar with at Oxford! Code is the Aristotelian, and he and Grice are especially concerned in the idea of causa finalis. For Grice only detached finality poses a threat to Mechanism, as it should! Axiological objectivity is possible only given finality or purpose in Nature, the admissibility of a final cause. Refs.: There are specific essays on ‘teleology,’ ‘final cause,’ and ‘finality,’ the The Grice Papers. Some of the material published in “Reply to Richards” (repr. in “Conception”) and “Actions and events,” The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

‘that’-clause: Grice’s priority for the ‘that’-clause is multiple. He dislikes what he calls an ‘amorphous’ propositional complex. His idea is to have at least ‘The S is P,’ one act involving a subjectum or denotatum, and one involving the praedicatum. There is also what he calls sub-perceptual utterances. They do look like structured (“That red pillar seems red”) but they are not perceptual reports like “I perceive that the pillar box is red.” At points he wanst to restrict utterer’s communucatum to a ‘that’-clause; but ignoring Austin’s remark that to wonder about what a ‘word’ ‘means’ is senseless, Grice sometimes allows for things like ‘The cat sat on the mat’ to ‘mean’ that the cat sat on the mat. Grice thinks that his account of ‘the red-seeming pillar box’ succeeded, and that it was this success that prompted him to apply the thing to other areas, notably Strawson, but one hopes, all the theses he presents in “Causal” and “Prolegomena.” But he does not go back to the is/seems example, other than perhaps the tie is/seems blue. The reason is that the sense-datum theory is very complex. Note “seems.” “It seems to me that…” but the ‘that’-clause not as a content of a state of the agent. If the pillar box seems red to Grice because it is red, what ‘that’-clause are we talking about to involve in the implicatum? And what generates the implicatum. “By uttering “The pillar box seems red,” U conversationally implicates that there is a denial or doubt, somewhere as to whether the pillar box IS red.” Grice thought of Staal as particularly good at this type of formalistic philosophy, which was still adequate to reflect the subtleties of ordinary language.  How do we define a Griceian action? How do we define a Griceian event? This is Grices examination and criticism of Davidson, as a scientific realist, followed by a Kantian approach to freedom and causation. Grice is especially interested in the logical form, or explicitum, so that he can play with the implicatum. One of his favourite examples: He fell on his sword, having tripped as he crossed the Galliæ. Grice manages to quote from many and varied authors (some of which you would not expect him to quote) such as Reichenbach, but also Robinson, of Oriel, of You Names it fame (for any x, if you can Names it, x exists). Robinson has a brilliant essay on parts of Cook Wilsons Statement and inference, so he certainly knows what he is talking about. Grice also quotes from von Wright and Eddington. Grice offers a linguistic botanic survey of autonomy and free (sugar-free, free fall, implicature-free) which some have found inspirational. His favourite is Finnegans alcohol-free. Finnegans obvious implicature is that everything is alcohol-laden. Grice kept a copy of Davidsons The logical form of action sentences, since surely Davidson, Grice thought, is making a primary philosophical point. Horses run fast; therefore, horses run. A Davidsonian problem, and there are more to come! Smith went fishing. Grices category shift allows us to take Smiths fishing as the grammatical Subjects of an action sentence. Cf. indeed the way to cope with entailment in The horse runs fast; therefore, the horse runs. Grices Actions and events is Davidsonian in motivation, but Kantian in method, one of those actions by Grice to promote a Griceian event! Davidson had published, Grice thought, some pretty influential (and provocative, anti-Quineian) stuff on actions and events, or events and actions, actually, and, worse, he was being discussed at Oxford, too, over which Grice always keeps an eye! Davidsons point, tersely put, is that while p.q (e.g. It is raining, and it is pouring) denotes a concatenation of events. Smith is fishing denotes an action, which is a kind of event, if you are following him (Davidson, not Smith). However, Davidson is fighting against the intuition, if you are a follower of Whitehead and Russell, to symbolise the Smith is fishing as Fs, where s stands for Smith and F for fishing. The logical form of a report of an event or an action seems to be slightly more complicated. Davidsons point specifically involves adverbs, or adverbial modifiers, and how to play with them in terms of entailment. The horse runs fast; therefore, the horse runs. Symbolise that! as Davidson told Benson Mates! But Mates had gone to the restroom. Grice explores all these and other topics and submits the thing for publication. Grice quotes, as isnt his wont, from many and various philosophers, not just Davidson, whom he saw every Wednesday, but others he didnt, like Reichenbach, Robinson, Kant, and, again even a physicist like Eddington. Grice remarks that Davidson is into hypothesis, suppositio, while he is, as he should, into hypostasis, substantia. Grice then expands on the apparent otiosity of uttering, It is a fact that grass is green. Grice goes on to summarise what he ironically dubs an ingenious argument. Let σ abbreviate the operator  consists in the fact that , which, when prefixed to a sentence, produces a predicate or epithet. Let S abbreviate Snow is white, and let G abbreviate Grass is green. In that case, xσS is 1 just in case xσ(y(y=y and S) = y(y=y) is 1, since the first part of the sub-sentence which follows σ in the main sentence is logically equivalent logically equivalent to the second part. And xσ(y(y=y and S) = y(y=y) is 1 just in case xσ(y(if y=y, G) = y(y=y) is 1, since y(if y=y, S) and y(if y=y, G) are each a singular term, which, if S and G are both true, each refers to y(y=y), and are therefore co-referential and inter-substitutable. And xσ(y(if y=y, G) = y(y=y) is true just in case xσG is 1, since G is logically equivalent to the sub-sentence which follows σ. So, this fallacy goes, provided that S and G are both 1, regardless of what an utterer explicitly conveys by uttering a token of it, any event which consists of the otiose fact that S also consists of the otiose fact that G, and vice versa, i. e. this randomly chosen event is identical to any other randomly chosen event. Grice hastens to criticise this slingshot fallacy licensing the inter-substitution of this or that co-referential singular term and this or that logically equivalent sub-sentence as officially demanded because it is needed to license a patently valid, if baffling, inference. But, if in addition to providing this benefit, the fallacy saddles the philosopher with a commitment to a hideous consequence, the rational course is to endeavour to find a way of retaining the benefit while eliminating the disastrous accompaniment, much as in set theory it seems rational to seek as generous a comprehension axiom as the need to escape this or that paradox permits. Grice proposes to retain the principle of co-reference, but prohibit is use after the principle of logical equivalence has been used. Grice finds such a measure to have some intuitive appeal. In the fallacy, the initial deployment of the principle of logical equivalence seems tailored to the production of a sentence which provides opportunity for trouble-raising application of the principle of co-referentiality. And if that is what the game is, why not stop it? On the assumption that this or that problem which originally prompts this or that analysis is at least on their way towards independent solution, Grice turns his attention to the possibility of providing a constructivist treatment of things which might perhaps have more intuitive appeal than a naïve realist approach. Grice begins with a class of happenstance attributions, which is divided into this or that basic happenstance attribution, i.e. ascriptions to a Subjects-item of an attribute which is metabolically expressible, and this or that non-basic resultant happenstance attribution, in which the attribute ascribed, though not itself metabolically expressible, is such that its possession by a Subjects item is suitably related to the possession by that or by some other Subjects item, of this or that attribute which is metabolically expressible. Any member of the class of happenstance attributions may be used to say what happens, or happens to be the case, without talking about any special entity belonging to a class of a happening or a happenstance. A next stage involves the introduction of the operator  consists of the fact that  This operator, when prefixed to a sentence S that makes a happen-stance attribution to a Subjects-item, yields a predicate which is satisfied by an entity which is a happenstance, provided that sentence S is doxastically satisfactory, i. e., 1, and that some further metaphysical condition obtains, which ensures the metaphysical necessity of the introduction into reality of the category of a happenstance, thereby ensuring that this new category is not just a class of this or that fiction. As far as the slingshot fallacy, and the hideous consequence that all facts become identical to one Great Big Fact, in the light of a defence of Reichenbach against the realist attack, Grice is reasonably confident that a metaphysical extension of reality will not saddle him with an intolerable paradox, pace the caveat that, to some, the slingshot is not contradictory in the way a paradox is, but merely an unexpected consequence ‒ not seriously hideous, at that. What this metaphysical condition would be which would justify the metaphysical extension remains, alas, to be determined. It is tempting to think that the metaphysical condition is connected with a theoretical need to have this or that happenstance as this or that item in, say, a causal relation. Grice goes on to provide a progression of linguistic botanising including free. Grice distinguishes four elements or stages in the step-by-step development of freedom. A first stage is the transeunt causation one finds in inanimate objects, as when we experience a stone in free fall. This is Hume’s realm, the atomistss realm. This is external or transeunt casuation, when an object is affected by processes in other objects. A second stage is internal or immanent causation, where a process in an object is the outcome of previous stages in that process, as in a freely moving body. A third stage is the internal causation of a living being, in which changes are generated in a creature by internal features of the creature which are not earlier stages of the same change, but independent items, the function or finality of which is to provide for the good of the creature in question. A fourth stage is a culminating stage at which the conception of a certain mode by a human of something as being for that creatures good is sufficient to initiate the doing of that thing. Grice expands on this interesting last stage. At this stage, it is the case that the creature is liberated from every factive cause. There is also a discussion of von Wrights table of adverbial modifiers, or Grices pentagram. Also an exploration of specificity: Jack buttering a parsnip in the bathroom in the presence of Jill. Grice revisits some of his earlier concerns, and these are discussed in the appropriate places, such as his exploration on the Grecian etymology of aition. “That”-clause should be preferred to ‘oratio obliqua,’ since the latter is a misnomer when you ascribe a psychological state rather than an utterance. Refs.: The main sources are given under ‘oratio obliqua’ above, The BANC.

theory: Grice needs a theory. For those into implicata and conversation as rational cooperation, when introducing the implicatum he mentions ‘pre-theoretical adequacy’ of the model. So he is thinking of the conversational theory as a theory in the strict sense, with ‘explanatory’ and not merely taxonomical power. So one task is to examine in which way the conversational theory is a theory that explains, rather than merely ad hoc ex post facto commentary.  Not so much for his approach to mean. He polemises with Rountree, of Somerville, that you dont need a thory to analyse mean. Indeed, you cannot have a theory to analyse mean, because mean is a matter of intuition, not a theoretical concept. But Grice appeals to theory, when dealing with willing. He knows what willing means because he relies on a concept of folk-science. In this folk-science, willing is a theoretical concept. Grice arrived at this conclusion by avoiding the adjective souly, and seeing that there is no word to describe willing other than by saying it is a psychoLOGICAL concept, i.e. part of a law within that theory of folk-science. That law will include, by way of ramsified naming or describing willing as a predicate-constant. Now, this is related to metaphysics. His liberal or ecunmenical metaphysics is best developed in terms of his ontological marxism presented just after he has expanded on this idea of willing as a theoretical concept, within a law involving willing (say, Grices Optimism-cum-Pesimism law), within the folk-science of psychology that explains his behaviour. For Aristotle, a theoria, was quite a different animal, but it had to do with contemplatio, hence the theoretical (vita contemplativa) versus the practical (vita activa). Grices sticking to Aristotle’srare use of theory inspires him to develop his fascinating theory of the theory-theory.  Grice realised that there is no way to refer to things like intending except with psychological, which he takes to mean, belonging to a pscyhological theory. Grice was keen to theorise on theorising. He thought that Aristotle’s first philosophy (prote philosophia) is best rendered as Theory-theory. Grice kept using Oxonian English spelling, theorising, except when he did not! Grice calls himself folksy: his theories, even if Subjects to various types of Ramseyfication, are popular in kind! And ceteris paribus! Metaphysical construction is disciplined and the best theorising the philosopher can hope for! The way Grice conceives of his theory-theory is interesting to revisit. A route by which Grice hopes to show the centrality of metaphysics (as prote philosophia) involves taking seriously a few ideas. If any region of enquiry is to be successful as a rational enterprise, its deliverance must be expressable in the shape of one or another of the possibly different types of theory. A characterisation of the nature and range of a possible kind of theory θ is needed. Such a body of characterisation must itself be the outcome of rational enquiry, and so must itself exemplify whatever requirement it lays down for any theory θ in general. The characterisation must itself be expressible as a theory θ, to be called, if you like, Grice politely puts it, theory-theory, or meta-theory, θ2. Now, the specification and justification of the ideas and material presupposed by any theory θ, whether such account falls within the bounds of Theory-theory, θ2 would be properly called prote philosophia (first philosophy) and may turn out to relate to what is generally accepted as belonging to the Subjects matter of metaphysics. It might, for example, turn out to be establishable that any theory θ has to relate to a certain range of this or that Subjects item, has to attribute to each item this or that predicate or attribute, which in turn has to fall within one or another of the range of types or categories. In this way, the enquiry might lead to recognised metaphysical topics, such as the nature of being, its range of application, the nature of predication and a systematic account of categories. Met. , philosophical eschatology, and Platos Republic, Thrasymachus, social justice, Socrates, along with notes on Zeno, and topics for pursuit, repr.in Part II, Explorations in semantics and  metaphysics to WOW , metaphysics, philosophical eschatology, Platos Republic, Socrates, Thrasymachus, justice, moral right, legal right, Athenian dialectic. Philosophical eschatology is a sub-discipline of metaphysics concerned with what Grice calls a category shift. Grice, having applied such a technique to Aristotle’s aporia on philos (friend) as alter ego, uses it now to tackle Socratess view, against Thrasymachus, that right applies primarily to morality, and secondarily to legality. Grice has a specific reason to include this in his WOW Grices exegesis of Plato on justice displays Grices take on the fact that metaphysics needs to be subdivided into ontology proper and what he calls philosophical eschatology, for the study of things like category shift and other construction routines. The exploration of Platos Politeia thus becomes an application of Grices philosophically eschatological approach to the item just, as used by Socrates (morally just) and Thrasymachus (legally just). Grice has one specific essay on Aristotle in PPQ. So he thought Plato merited his own essay, too! Grices focus is on Plato’s exploration of dike. Grice is concerned with a neo-Socratic (versus neo-Thrasymachean) account of moral justice as conceptually (or axiologically) prior to legal justice. In the proceeding, he creates philosophical eschatology as the other branch to metaphysics, along with good ol ontology. To say that just crosses a categorial barrier (from the moral to the legal) is to make a metaphysical, strictly eschatological, pronouncement. The Grice Papers locate the Plato essay in s.  II, the Socrates essay in s.  III, and the Thrasymachus essay, under social justice, in s. V. Grice is well aware that in his account of fairness, Rawls makes use of his ideas on personal identity. The philosophical elucidation of fairness is of great concern for Grice. He had been in touch with such explorations as Nozicks and Nagels along anti-Rawlsian lines. Grices ideas on rationality guide his exploration of social justice. Grice keeps revising the Socrates notes. The Plato essay he actually dates. As it happens, Grices most extensive published account of Socrates is in this commentary on Platos Republic: an eschatological commentary, as he puts it. In an entertaining fashion, Grice has Socrates, and neo-Socrates, exploring the logic and grammar of just against the attack by Thrasymachus and neo-Thrasymachus. Grices point is that, while the legal just may be conceptually prior to the moral just, the moral just is evaluationally or axiologically prior. Refs.: There is a specific essay on ‘theorising’ in the Grice Papers, but there are scattered sources elsewhere, such as “Method” (repr. in “Conception”), BANC.

uncertainty: One of Grice’s problem is with ‘know’ and ‘certainty.’ He grants that we only know that 2 + 2 = 4. He often identifies ‘knowledge’ with ‘certainty.’ He does not explore a cancellation like, “I am certain but I do not know.” The reason being that he defends common sense against the sceptic, and so his attitude towards certainty has to be very careful. The second problem is that he wants ‘certainty’ to deal within the desiderative realm. To do that, he divides an act of intending into two: an act of accepting and act of willing. The ‘certainty’ is found otiose if the intender is seen as ‘willing that p’ and accepting that the willing will be the cause for the desideratum to obtain.  n WoW:141, Grice proposes that ‘A is certain that p’ ENTAILS either ‘A is certain that he is certain that p, OR AT LEAST that it is not the case that A is UNCERTAIN that A is certain that p.” ‘Certainly,’ appears to apply to utterances in the credibility and the desirability realm. Grice sometimes uses ‘to be sure.’ He notoriously wants to distinguish it from ‘know.’ Grice explores the topic of incorrigibility and ends up with corrigibility which almost makes a Popperian out of him. In the end, its all about the converational implciata and conversation as rational co-operation. Why does P2 should judge that P1 is being more or less certain about what he is talking? Theres a rationale for that. Our conversation does not consist of idle remarks. Grices example: "The Chairman of the British Academy has a corkscrew in his pocket. Urmsons example: "The king is visiting Oxford tomorrow. Why? Oh, for no reason at all. As a philosophical psychologist, and an empiricist with realist tendencies, Grice was obsessed with what he called (in a nod to the Kiparskys) the factivity of know. Surely, Grices preferred collocation, unlike surely Ryles, is "Grice knows that p." Grice has no problem in seeing this as involving three clauses: First, p. Second, Grice believes that p, and third, p causes Grices belief. No mention of certainty. This is the neo-Prichardian in Grice, from having been a neo-Stoutian (Stout was obsessed, as a few Oxonians like Hampshire and Hart were, with certainty). If the three-prong analysis of know applies to the doxastic, Grices two-prong analysis of intending in ‘Intention and UNcertainty,’ again purposively avoiding certainty, covers the buletic realm. This does not mean that Grice, however proud he was of his ignorance of the history of philosophy (He held it as a badge of honour, his tuteee Strawson recalls), had read some of the philosophical classics to realise that certainty had been an obsession of what Ryle abusively (as he himself puts it) called Descartes and the Establishments "official doctrine"! While ps true in Grices analysis of know is harmless enough, there obviously is no correlate for ps truth in the buletic case. Grices example is Grice intending to scratch his head, via his willing that Grice scratches his head in t2. In this case, as he notes, the doxastic eleent involves the uniformity of nature, and ones more or less relying that if Grice had a head to be scratched in t1, he will have a head to be sratched in t2, when his intention actually GETS satisfied, or fulfilled. Grice was never worried about buletic satisfaction. As the intentionalist that Suppes showed us Grice was, Grice is very much happy to say that if Smith intends to give Joness a job, the facct as to whether Jones actually gets the job is totally irrelevant for most philosophical purposes. He gets more serious when he is happier with privileged access than incorrigibility in “Method.” But he is less strict than Austin. For Austin, "That is a finch implies that the utterer KNOWS its a finch. While Grice has a maxim, do not say that for which you lack adequate evidence (Gettiers analysandum)  and a super-maxim, try to make your contribution one that is true,  the very phrasing highlights Grices cavalier to this! Imagine Kant turning on his grave. "Try!?". Grice is very clever in having try in the super-maxim, and a prohibition as the maxim, involving falsehood avoidance, "Do not say what you believe to be false." Even here he is cavalier. "Cf. "Do not say what you KNOW to be false." If Gettier were wrong, the combo of maxims yields, "Say what you KNOW," say what you are certain about! Enough for Sextus Empiricus having one single maxim: "Either utter a phenomenalist utterance, a question or an order, or keep your mouth shut!." (cf. Grice, "My lips are sealed," as cooperative or helfpul in ways -- "At least he is not lying."). Hampshire, in the course of some recent remarks,l advances the view that self-prediction is (logically) impossible. When I say I know that I shall do X (as against, e.g., X will happen to me, or You will do X), I am not contemplating myself, as I might someone else, and giving tongue to a conjecture about myself and my future acts, as I might be doing about someone else or about the behaviour ofan animal -for that would be tantamount (if I understand him rightly) to looking upon myself from outside, as it were, and treating my own acts as mere caused events. In saying that I know that I shall do X, I am, on this view, saying that I have decided to do X: for to predict that I shall in certain circumstances in fact do X or decide to do X, with no reference to whether or not I have already decided to do it - to say I can tell you now that I shall in fact act in manner X, although I am, as a matter of fact, determined to do the very opposite - does not make sense. Any man who says I know myself too well to believe that, whatever I now decide, I shall do anything other than X when the circumstances actually arise is in fact, if I interpret Hampshires views correctly, saying that he does not really, i.e. seriously, propose to set himself against doing X, that he does not propose even to try to act otherwise, that he has in fact decided to let events take their course. For no man who has truly decided to try to avoid X can, in good faith, predict his own failure to act as he has decided. He may fail to avoid X, and he may predict this; but he cannot both decide to try to avoid X and predict that he will not even try to do this; for he can always try; and he knows this: he knows that this is what distinguishes him from non-human creatures in nature. To say that he will fail even to try is tantamount to saying that he has decided not to try. In this sense I know means I have decided and (Murdoch, Hampshire, Gardiner and Pears, Freedom and Knowledge, in Pears, Freedom and the Will) cannot in principle be predictive. That, if I have understood it, is Hampshires position, and I have a good deal of sympathy with it, for I can see that self-prediction is often an evasive way of disclaiming responsibility for difficult decisions, while deciding in fact to let events take their course, disguising this by attributing responsibility for what occurs to my own allegedly unalterable nature. But I agree with Hampshires critics in the debate, whom I take to be maintaining that, although the situation he describes may often occur, yet circumstances may exist in which it is possible for me both to say that I am, at this moment, resolved not to do X, and at the same time to predict that I shall do X, because I am not hopeful that, when the time comes, I shall in fact even so much as try to resist doing X. I can, in effect, say I know myself well. When the crisis comes, do not rely on me to help you. I may well run away; although I am at this moment genuinely resolved not to be cowardly and to do all I can to stay at your side. My prediction that my resolution will not in fact hold up is based on knowledge of my own character, and not on my present state of mind; my prophecy is not a symptom of bad faith (for I am not, at this moment, vacillating) but, on the contrary, of good faith, of a wish to face the facts. I assure you in all sincerity that my present intention is to be brave and resist. Yet you would run a great risk if you relied too much on my present decision; it would not be fair to conceal my past failures of nerve from you. I can say this about others, despite the most sincere resolutions on their part, for I can foretell how in fact they will behave; they can equally predict this about me. Despite Hampshires plausible and tempting argument, I believe that such objective self-knowledge is possible and occur. From Descartes to Stout and back. Stout indeed uses both intention and certainty, and in the same paragraph. Stout notes that, at the outset, performance falls far short of intention. Only a certain s. of contractions of certain muscles, in proper proportions and in a proper order, is capable of realising the end aimed at, with the maximum of rapidity and certainty, and the minimum of obstruction and failure, and corresponding effort. At the outset of the process of acquisition, muscles are contracted which are superfluous, and which therefore operate as disturbing conditions. Grices immediate trigger, however, is Ayer on sure that, and having the right to be sure, as his immediate trigger later will be Hampshire and Hart. Grice had high regard for Hampshires brilliant Thought and action.  He was also concerned with Stouts rather hasty UNphilosophical, but more scientifically psychologically-oriented remarks about assurance in practical concerns. He knew too that he was exploring an item of the philosophers lexicon (certus) that had been brought to the forum when Anscombe and von Wright translate Witters German expression Gewißheit in Über Gewißheit as Certainty. The Grecians were never sure about being sure. But the modernist turn brought by Descartes meant that Grice now had to deal with incorrigibility and privileged access to this or that P, notably himself (When I intend to go, I dont have to observe myself, Im on the stage, not in the audience, or Only I can say I will to London, expressing my intention to do so. If you say, you will go you are expressing yours! Grice found Descartes very funny ‒ in a French way. Grice is interested in contesting Ayer and other Oxford philosophers, on the topic of a criterion for certainty. In so doing, Grice choses Descartess time-honoured criterion of clarity and distinction, as applied to perception.  Grice does NOT quote Descartes in French! In the proceedings, Grice distinguishes between two kinds of certainty apparently ignored by Descartes: (a) objective certainty: Ordinary-language variant: It is certain that p, whatever it refers to, cf. Grice, it is an illusion; what is it? (b) Subjective certainty: Ordinary-language variant: I am certain that p. I being, of course, Grice, in my bestest days, of course! There are further items on Descartes in the Grice Collection, notably in the last s. of topics arranged alphabetically. Grice never cared to publish his views on Descartes until he found an opportunity to do so when compiling his WOW. Grice is not interested in an exegesis of Descartess thought. He doesnt care to give a reference to any edition of Descartess oeuvre. But he plays with certain. It is certain that p is objective certainty, apparently. I am certain that p is Subjectsive certainty, rather. Oddly, Grice will turn to UNcertainty as it connects with intention in his BA lecture. Grices interest in Descartes connects with Descartess search for a criterion of certainty in terms of clarity and distinction of this or that perception.  Having explored the philosophy of perception with Warnock, its only natural he wanted to give Descartess rambles a second and third look! Descartes on clear and distinct perception, in WOW, II semantics and metaphysics, essay, Descartes on clear and distinct perception and Malcom on dreaming, perception, Descartes, clear and distinct perception, Malcolm, dreaming. Descartes meets Malcolm, and vice versa.  Descartes on clear and distinct perception, in WOW, Descartes on clear and distinct perception, Descartes on clear and distinct perception, in WOW, part II, semantics and metaphysics, essay. Grice gives a short overview of Cartesian metaphysics for the BBC 3rd programme. The best example, Grice thinks, of a metaphysical snob is provided by Descartes, about whose idea of certainty Grice had philosophised quite a bit, since it is in total contrast with Moore’s. Descartes is a very scientifically minded philosopher, with very clear ideas about the proper direction for science.  Descartes, whose middle Names seems to have been Euclid, thinks that mathematics, and in particular geometry, provides the model for a scientific procedure, or method. And this determines all of Descartess thinking in two ways. First, Descartes thinks that the fundamental method in science is the axiomatic deductive method of geometry, and this Descartes conceives (as Spinoza morality more geometrico) of as rigorous reasoning from a self-evident axiom (Cogito, ergo sum.). Second, Descartes thinks that the Subjects matter of physical science, from mechanics to medicine, must be fundamentally the same as the Subjects matter of geometry! The only characteristics that the objects studied by geometry poses are spatial characteristics. So from the point of view of science in general, the only important features of things in the physical world were also their spatial characteristics, what he called extensio, res extensa. Physical science in general is a kind of dynamic, or kinetic, geometry.   Here we have an exclusive preference for a certain type of scientific method, and a certain type of scientific explanation: the method is deductive, the type of explanation mechanical. These beliefs about the right way to do science are exactly reflected in Descartess ontology, one of the two branches of metaphysics; the other is philosophical eschatology, or the study of categories), and it is reflected in his doctrine, that is, about what really exists.  Apart from God, the divine substance, Descartes recognises just two kinds of substance, two types of real entity. First, there is material substance, or matter; and the belief that the only scientifically important characteristics of things in the physical world are their spatial characteristics goes over, in the language of metaphysics, into the doctrine that these are their only characteristics. Second, and to Ryle’s horror, Descartes recognizes the mind or soul, or the mental substance, of which the essential characteristic is thinking; and thinking itself, in its pure form at least, is conceived of as simply the intuitive grasping of   this or that self-evident axiom and this or that of its deductive consequence. These restrictive doctrines about reality and knowledge naturally call for adjustments elsewhere in our ordinary scheme of things. With the help of the divine substance, these are duly provided.  It is not always obvious that the metaphysicians scheme involves this kind of ontological preference, or favoritism, or prejudice, or snobbery this tendency, that is, to promote one or two categories of entity to the rank of the real, or of the ultimately real, to the exclusion of others, Descartess entia realissima. One is taught at Oxford that epistemology begins with the Moderns such as Descartes, which is not true. Grice was concerned with “certain,” which was applied in Old Roman times to this or that utterer: the person who is made certain in reference to a thing, certain, sure. Lewis and Short have a few quotes: “certi sumus periisse omnia;” “num quid nunc es certior?,” “posteritatis, i. e. of posthumous fame,” “sententiæ,” “judicii,” “certus de suā geniturā;” “damnationis;” “exitii,” “spei,” “matrimonii,” “certi sumus;” in the phrase “certiorem facere aliquem;” “de aliquā re, alicujus rei, with a foll, acc. and inf., with a rel.-clause or absol.;” “to inform, apprise one of a thing: me certiorem face: “ut nos facias certiores,” “uti Cæsarem de his rebus certiorem faciant;” “qui certiorem me sui consilii fecit;” “Cæsarem certiorem faciunt, sese non facile ab oppidis vim hostium prohibere;” “faciam te certiorem quid egerim;” with subj. only, “milites certiores facit, paulisper intermitterent proelium,” pass., “quod crebro certior per me fias de omnibus rebus,” “Cæsar certior factus est, tres jam copiarum partes Helvetios id flumen transduxisse;” “factus certior, quæ res gererentur,” “non consulibus certioribus factis,” also in posit., though rarely; “fac me certum quid tibi est;” “lacrimæ suorum tam subitæ matrem certam fecere ruinæ,” uncertainty, Grice loved the OED, and its entry for will was his favourite. But he first had a look to shall. For Grice, "I shall climb Mt. Everest," is surely a prediction. And then Grice turns to the auxiliary he prefers, will. Davidson, Intending, R. Grandy and Warner, PGRICE. “Uncertainty,” “Aspects.” “Conception,” Davidson on intending, intending and trying, Brandeis.”Method,” in “Conception,” WOW . Hampshire and Hart. Decision, intention, and certainty, Mind, Harman, Willing and intending in PGRICE. Practical reasoning. Review of Met.  29. Thought, Princeton, for functionalist approach alla Grice’s “Method.” Principles of reasoning. Rational action and the extent of intention. Social theory and practice. Jeffrey, Probability kinematics, in The logic of decision, cited by Harman in PGRICE. Kahneman and Tversky, Judgement under uncertainty, Science, cited by Harman in PGRICE. Nisbet and Ross, Human inference, cited by Harman in PGRICE. Pears, Predicting and deciding. Prichard, Acting, willing, and desiring, in Moral obligations, Oxford ed. by Urmson  Speranza, The Grice Circle Wants You. Stout, Voluntary action. Mind 5, repr in Studies in philosophy and psychology, Macmillan, cited by Grice, “Uncertainty.” Urmson, ‘Introduction’ to Prichard’s ‘Moral obligations.’ I shant but Im not certain I wont – Grice. How uncertain can Grice be? This is the Henriette Herz BA lecture, and as such published in The Proceedings of the BA. Grice calls himself a neo-Prichardian (after the Oxford philosopher) and cares to quote from a few other philosophers  ‒ some of whom he was not necessarily associated with: such as Kenny and Anscombe, and some of whom he was, notably Pears. Grices motto: Where there is a neo-Prichardian willing, there is a palæo-Griceian way! Grice quotes Pears, of Christ Church, as the philosopher he found especially congenial to explore areas in what both called philosophical psychology, notably the tricky use of intending as displayed by a few philosophers even in their own circle, such as Hampshire and Hart in Intention, decision, and certainty. The title of Grices lecture is meant to provoke that pair of Oxonian philosophers Grice knew so well and who were too ready to bring in certainty in an area that requires deep philosophical exploration. This is the Henriette Herz Trust annual lecture. It means its delivered annually by different philosophers, not always Grice! Grice had been appointed a FBA earlier, but he took his time to deliver his lecture. With your lecture, you implicate, Hi! Grice, and indeed Pears, were motivated by Hampshires and Harts essay on intention and certainty in Mind. Grice knew Hampshire well, and had actually enjoyed his Thought and Action. He preferred Hampshires Thought and action to Anscombes Intention. Trust Oxford being what it is that TWO volumes on intending are published in the same year! Which one shall I read first? Eventually, neither ‒ immediately. Rather, Grice managed to unearth some sketchy notes by Prichard (he calls himself a neo-Prichardian) that Urmson had made available for the Clarendon Press ‒ notably Prichards essay on willing that. Only a Corpus-Christi genius like Prichard will distinguish will to, almost unnecessary, from will that, so crucial. For Grice, wills that , unlike  wills to, is properly generic, in that p, that follows the that-clause, need NOT refer to the Subjects of the sentence. Surely I can will that Smith wins the match! But Grice also quotes Anscombe (whom otherwise would not count, although they did share a discussion panel at the American Philosophical Association) and Kenny, besides Pears. Of Anscombe, Grice borrows (but never returns) the direction-of-fit term of art, actually Austinian. From Kenny, Grice borrows (and returns) the concept of voliting. His most congenial approach was Pearss. Grice had of course occasion to explore disposition and intention on earlier occasions. Grice is especially concerned with a dispositional analysis to intending. He will later reject it in “Uncertainty.” But that was Grice for you! Grice is especially interested in distinguishing his views from Ryles over-estimated dispositional account of intention, which Grice sees as reductionist, and indeed eliminationist, if not boringly behaviourist, even in analytic key. The logic of dispositions is tricky, as Grice will later explore in connection with rationality, rational propension or propensity, and metaphysics, the as if operator). While Grice focuses on uncertainty, he is trying to be funny. He knew that Oxonians like Hart and Hampshire were obsessed with certainty. I was so surprised that Hampshire and Hart were claiming decision and intention are psychological states about which the agent is certain, that I decided on the spot that that could certainly be a nice topic for my BA lecture! Grice granted that in some cases, a declaration of an intention can be authorative in a certain certain way, i. e. as implicating certainty. But Grice wants us to consider: Marmaduke Bloggs intends to climb Mt. Everest. Surely he cant be certain hell succeed. Grice used the same example at the APA, of all places. To amuse Grice, Davidson, who was present, said: Surely thats just an implicature! Just?! Grice was almost furious in his British guarded sort of way. Surely not just! Pears, who was also present, tried to reconcile: If I may, Davidson, I think Grice would take it that, if certainty is implicated, the whole thing becomes too social to be true.  They kept discussing implicature versus entailment. Is certainty entailed then? Cf. Urmson on certainly vs. knowingly, and believably. Davidson asked. No, disimplicated! is Grices curt reply. The next day, he explained to Davidson that he had invented the concept of disimplicature just to tease him, and just one night before, while musing in the hotel room! Talk of uncertainty was thus for Grice intimately associated with his concern about the misuse of know to mean certain, especially in the exegeses that Malcolm made popular about, of all people, Moore! V. Scepticism and common sense and Moore and philosophers paradoxes above, and Causal theory and Prolegomena for a summary of Malcoms misunderstanding Moore! Grice manages to quote from Stouts Voluntary action and Brecht. And he notes that not all speakers are as sensitive as they should be (e.g. distinguishing modes, as realised by shall vs. will). He emphasizes the fact that Prichard has to be given great credit for seeing that the accurate specification of willing should be willing that and not willing to. Grice is especially interested in proving Stoutians (like Hampshire and Hart) wrong by drawing from Aristotles prohairesis-doxa distinction, or in his parlance, the buletic-doxastic distinction. Grice quotes from Aristotle. Prohairesis cannot be opinion/doxa. For opinion is thought to relate to all kinds of things, no less to eternal things and impossible things than to things in our own power; and it is distinguished by its falsity or truth, not by its badness or goodness, while choice is distinguished rather by these. Now with opinion in general perhaps no one even says it is identical. But it is not identical even with any kind of opinion; for by choosing or deciding, or prohairesis, what is good or bad we are men of a certain character, which we are not by holding this or that opinion or doxa. And we choose to get or avoid something good or bad, but we have opinions about what a thing is or whom it is good for or how it is good for him; we can hardly be said to opine to get or avoid anything. And choice is praised for being related to the right object rather than for being rightly related to it, opinion for being truly related to its object. And we choose what we best know to be good, but we opine what we do not quite know; and it is not the same people that are thought to make the best choices and to have the best opinions, but some are thought to have fairly good opinions, but by reason of vice to choose what they should not. If opinion precedes choice or accompanies it, that makes no difference; for it is not this that we are considering, but whether it is identical with some kind of opinion. What, then, or what kind of thing is it, since it is none of the things we have mentioned? It seems to be voluntary, but not all that is voluntary to be an object of choice. Is it, then, what has been decided on by previous deliberation? At any rate choice involves a rational principle and thought. Even the Names seems to suggest that it is what is chosen before other things. His final analysis of G intends that p is in terms of, B1, a buletic condition, to the effect that G wills that p, and D2, an attending doxastic condition, to the effect that G judges that B1 causes p. Grice ends this essay with a nod to Pears and an open point about the justifiability (other than evidential) for the acceptability of the agents deciding and intending versus the evidential justifiability of the agents predicting that what he intends will be satisfied. It is important to note that in his earlier Disposition and intention, Grice dedicates the first part to counterfactual if general. This is a logical point. Then as an account for a psychological souly concept ψ. If G does A, sensory input, G does B, behavioural output. No ψ without the behavioural output that ψ is meant to explain. His problem is with the first person. The functionalist I does not need a black box. The  here would be both incorrigibility and privileged access. Pology only explains their evolutionary import. Refs.: The main source is his BA lecture on ‘uncertainty,’ but using the keyword ‘certainty’ is useful too. His essay on Descartes in WoW is important, and sources elsehere in the Grice Papers, such as the predecessor to the “Uncertainty” lecture in “Disposition and intention,” also his discussion of avowal (vide references above), incorrigibility and privileged access in “Method,” repr. in “Conception,” BANC

universalium: see totum for Grice on “all” -- This is a Gricism. It all started with arbor porphyriana. It is supposed to translate Aristotle’s “to kath’olou” (which happens to be one of the categories in Kant, “alleheit,” and which Aristotle contrasts with “to kath’ekastou,” (which Kant has as a category, SINGULARITAS. For a nominalist, any predicate is a ‘name,’ hence ‘nominalism.’ Opposite ‘realism.’ “Nominalism” is actually a misnomer. The opposite of realism is anti-realism. We need something like ‘universalism,’ (he who believes in the existence, not necessary ‘reality’ of a universal) and a ‘particularist,’ or ‘singularist,’ who does not. Note that the opposite of ‘particularism,’ is ‘totalism.’ (Totum et pars). Grice holds a set-theoretical approach to the universalium. Grice is willing to provide always a set-theoretical extensionalist (in terms of predicate) and an intensionalist variant in terms of property and category. Grice explicitly uses ‘X’ for utterance-type (WOW:118), implying a distinction with the utterance-token. Grice gets engaged in a metabolical debate concerning the reductive analysis of what an utterance-type means in terms of a claim to the effect that, by uttering x, an utterance-token of utterance-type X, the utterer means that p. The implicature is x (utterance-token). Grice is not enamoured with the type/token or token/type distinction. His thoughts on logical form are provocative. f you cannot put it in logical form, it is not worth saying. Strawson infamously reacted with a smile. Oh, no: if you CAN put it in logical form, it is not worth saying. Grice refers to the type-token distinction when he uses x for token and X for type. Since Bennett cares to call Grice a meaning-nominalist we should not care about the type X anyway. He expands on this in Retrospective Epilogue. Grice should have payed more attention to the distinction seeing that it was Ogdenian. A common mode of estimating the amount of matter in a printed book is to count the number of words. There will ordinarily be about twenty thes on a page, and, of course, they count as twenty words. In another use of the word word, however, there is but one word the in the English language; and it is impossible that this word should lie visibly on a page, or be heard in any voice. Such a Form, Peirce, as cited by Ogden and Richards, proposes to term a type. A single object such as this or that word on a single line of a single page of a single copy of a book, Peirce ventures to call a token. In order that a type may be used, it has to be embodied in a token which shall be a sign of the type, and thereby of the object the type signifies, and Grice followed suit. Refs.: Some of the sources are given under ‘abstractum.’ Also under ‘grecianism,’ since Grice was keen on exploring what Aristotle has to say about this in Categoriae, due to his joint research with Austin, Code, Friedman, and Strawson. Grice also has a specific Peirceian essay on the type-token distinction. BANC.

Urmson’s bribe. Urmson’s use of the bribe is ‘accidental.’ What Urmson is getting at is that if the briber intends the bribe acts as a cause to effect a response, even a cognitive one, in the bribe, the propositional complexum, “This is a bribe,” should not necessarily be communicated. It is amazing how Grice changed the example into one about physical action. They seem different. On the other hand, Grice would not have cared to credit Urmson had it not believed it worth knowing that the criticism arose within the Play Group (Grice admired Urmson). In his earlier “Meaning,” Grice presents his own self-criticisms to arrive at a more refined analysis. But in “Utterer’s meaning and intention,” when it comes to the SUFFICIENCY, it’s all about other people: notably Urmson and Strawson. Grice cites Stampe before Strawson, but many ignore Stampe on the basis that Strawson does not credit him, and there is no reason why he should have been aware of it. But Stampe was at Oxford at the time so this is worth noting. It has to be emphasised that the author list is under ‘sufficiency.’ Under necessity, Grice does not credit the source of the objections, so we can assume it is Grice himself, as he had presented criticisms to his own view within the same ‘Meaning.’ It is curious that Grice loved Stampe. Grice CHANGED Urmon’s example, and was unable to provide a specific scenario to Strawson’s alleged counterexample, because Strawson is vague himself. But Stampe’s, Grice left unchanged. It seems few Oxonian philosohpers of Grice’s playgroup had his analytic acumen. Consider his sophisticated account of ‘meaning.’ It’s different if you are a graduate student from the New World, and you have to prove yourself intelligent. But for Grice’s playgroup companion, only three or four joined in the analysis. The first is Urmson. The second is Strawson. The case by Urmson involved a tutee offering to buy Gardiner an expensive dinner, hoping that Gardiner will give him permission for an over-night visit to London. Gardiner knows that his tutee wants his permission. The appropriate analysans for "By offering to buy Gardiner an expensive dinner, the tuttee means that Gardiner should give him permission for an overnight stay in London" are fulfilled: (1) The tutee offers to buy Gardiner an expensive dinner with the intention of producing a certain response on the part of Gardiner (2) The tutee intends that Gardiner should recognize (know, think) that the tutee is offering to buy him an expensive dinner with the intention of producing this response; (3) The tutee intends that Gardiners recognition (thought) that the tutee has the intention mentioned in (2) should be at least part of Gardiners reason for producing the response mentioned. If in general to specify in (i) the nature of an intended response is to specify what was meant, it should be correct not only to say that by offering to buy Gardiner an expensive dinner, the tutee means that Gardiner is to give him permission for an overnight stay in London, but also to say that he meas that Gardiner should (is to) give him permission for an over-night visit to London. But in fact one would not wish to say either of these things; only that the tutee meant Gardiner to give him permission. A restriction seems to be required, and one which might serve to eliminate this range of counterexamples can be identified from a comparison of two scenarios. Grice goes into a tobacconists shop, ask for a packet of my favorite cigarettes, and when the unusually suspicious tobacconist shows that he wants to see the color of my money before he hands over the goods, I put down the price of the cigarettes on the counter. Here nothing has been meant. Alternatively, Grice goes to his regular tobacconist (from whom I also purchase other goods) for a packet of my regular brand of Players Navy Cuts, the price of which is distinctive, say 43p. Grice says nothing, but puts down 43p. The tobacconist recognizes my need, and hands over the packet. Here, I think, by putting down 43p I meant something-Namesly, that I wanted a packet of Players Navy Cuts. I have at the same time provided an inducement. The distinguishing feature of the second example seems to be that here the tobacconist recognized, and was intended to recognize, what he was intended to do from my "utterance" (my putting down the money), whereas in the first example this was not the case. Nor is it the case with respect to Urmson’s case of the tutees attempt to bribe Gardiner. So one might propose that the analysis of meaning be amended accordingly. U means something by uttering x is true if: (i) U intends, by uttering x, to induce a certain response in A (2) U intends A to recognize, at least in part from the utterance of x, that U intends to produce that response (3) U intends the fulfillment of the intention mentioned in (2) to be at least in part As reason for fulfilling the intention mentioned in (i). This copes with Urmsons counterexample to Grices proposal in the Oxford Philosophical Society talk involving the tutee attempting to bribe Gardiner.

utterer. Cf. emissum, emissor. Or ‘man’. The question of “Homo sapiens sapiens” is an interesting one. Grice is all for ascribing predicates regarding the soul to what he calls the ‘lower animals’. He is not ready to ascribe emissor’s meaning to them. Why? Because of Schiffer! I mean, when it comes to the conditions of necessity of the reductive analysis, he seems okay. When it comes to the sufficiency, there are two types of objection. One by Urmson, easily dismissed. The second, first by Stampe and Strawson, not so easily. But Grice agrees to add a clause limiting intentions to be ‘in the open.’ Those who do not have a philosophical background usually wonder about this. So for their sake, it may be worth considering Grice’s synthetic a posteriori argument to refuse an emissor other than a Homo sapiens sapiens to be able to ‘mean,’ if not ‘communicate,’ or ‘signify.’ There is an objection which is not mentioned by his editors, which seems to Grice to be one to which Grice must respond. The objection may be stated thus. One of the leading strands in Grice’s reductive analysis of an emissor communicating that p is that communication is not to be regarded exclusively, or even primarily, as a ‘feature’ of emissors who use what philosophers of language call ‘language’ (Sprache, Taal, Langage, Linguaggio – to restrict to the philosophical lexicon, cf. Plato’s Cratylus), and a fortiori of an emissor who emits this or that “linguistic” ‘utterance.’ There are many instances of NOTABLY NON-“linguistic” vehicles or devices of communication, within a communication-system, which fulfil this or that communication-function; these vehicles or devices are mostly syntactically un-structured or amorphous. Sometimes, a device may exhibit at least some rudimentary syntactic structure, in that we may distinguish a totum from a pars and identify a ‘simplex’ within a ‘complexum.’ Grice’s intention-based reductive analysis of a communicatum, based on Aristotle, Locke, and Peirce, is designed to allow for the possibility that a non-“linguistic,” and, further, indeed a non-“conventional” 'utterance' token, perhaps even manifesting some degree of syntactic structure, and not just a block of an amorphous signal, may be within the ‘repertoire’ of ‘procedures’ of this or that organism, or creature, or agent, which, even if not relying on any apparatus for communication of the kind that that we may label ‘linguistic’ or otherwise ‘conventional,’  ‘do’ this or that ‘thing’ thereby ‘communicating’ that p, or q. To provide for this possibility, it is plainly necessary that the key ingredient in any representation of ‘communicating,’ viz. intending that p, should be a ‘state’ of the emissor’s soul the capacity for which does not require what we may label the ‘possession’ of, shall we say, a ‘faculty,’ of what philosophers call ‘a’ ‘language’ (Sprache, Taal, langue, lingua – note that in German we do not distinguish between ‘die Deutsche Sprache’ and ‘Sprache’ as ‘ein Facultat.’). Now a philosopher, relying on this or that neo-Prichardian reductive analysis of ‘intending that p,’ may not be willing to allow the possibility of such, shall we call it, pre-linguistic intending that p, or non-linguistic intending that p. Surely if the emissor realizes that his addressee does not share what the Germans call ‘die Deutsche Sprache,” the emissor may still communicate with his addresse this or that by doing this or that. E. g. he may simulate that he wants to smoke a cigarette and wonders if his addressee has one to spare. Against that objection, Grice surely wins the day. But Grice grants that winning the day on THAT front may not be enough. And that is because, as far as Grice’s Oxonian explorations on communication go, in a succession of increasingly elaborate moves – ending with a ‘closure’ clause which cut this succession of increasingly elaborate moves -- designed to thwart this or that scenario, later deemed illegitimate, involving two rational agents where the emissor relies on an ‘inference-element’ that it is not the case that he intends his addressee will recogise – Grice is led to restrict the ‘intending’ which is to constitute a case of an emissor communicating that p to C-intending. Grice suspects that whatever may be the case in general with regard to ‘intending,’ C-intending seems for some reason to Grice to be unsophisticatedly, viz. plainly, too sophisticated a ‘state’ of a soul to be found in an organism, ‘pirot,’ creature, that we may not want to deem ‘rational,’ or as the Germans would say, a creature that is destitute of “Die Deutsche Sprache.” We need the pirot to be “very intelligent, indeed rational.”Grice regrets that some may think that what he thought were unavoidable rear-guard actions (ending with a complex reductive analysis of C-intending) seem to have undermined the raison d'etre of the Griciean campaign.”Unfortunately, Grice provides what he admittedly labels “a brief reply” which “will have to suffice.” Why? Because “a full treatment would require delving deep into crucial problems concerning the boundaries between vicious and virtuous circularity.” Which is promising. It is not something totally UNATTAINABLE. It reduces to the philosopher being virtuously circular, only! Why is the ‘virtuous circle’ so crucial – vide ‘circulus virtuosus.’ virtŭōsus , a, um, adj. virtus, I.virtuous, good (late Lat.), Aug. c. Sec. Man. 10. A circle is virtuous if it is not that bad. In this case, we need the ‘virtuous circle’ because we are dealing with ‘a loop.’ This is exactly Schiffer’s way of putting it in his ‘Introduction’ to Meaning (second edition). There is a ‘conceptual loop.’ Schiffer is not interested in ‘communicating;’ only ‘meaning.’ But his point can be transferred. He is saying that ‘U means that p,’ may rely on ‘U intends that p,’ where ‘U intends that p’ relies on ‘U means that p.’ There is a loop. In more generic terms:We have a creature, call it a pirot P1 that, by doing thing T, communicates that p. Are we talking of the OBSERVER? I hope so, because Grice’s favourite pirot is the parrot. So we have Prince Maurice’s Parrot. Locke: Since I think I may be confident, that, whoever should see a CREATURE of his own shape or make, though it had no more reason all its life than a cat or a PARROT, would call him still A MAN; or whoever should hear a cat or a parrot discourse, reason, and philosophize, would call or think it nothing but a cat or a PARROT; and say, the one was A DULL IRRATIONAL MAN, and the other A VERY INTELLIGENT RATIONAL PARROT. A relation we have in an author of great note, is sufficient to countenance the supposition of A RATIONAL PARROT. The author’s words are: I had a mind to know, from Prince Maurice's own mouth, the account of a common, but much credited story, that I had heard so often from many others, of an old parrot he has, that speaks, and asks, and answers common questions, like A REASONABLE CREATURE. So that those of his train there generally conclude it to be witchery or possession; and one of his chaplains, would never from that time endure A PARROT, but says all PARROTS have a devil in them. I had heard many particulars of this story, and as severed by people hard to be discredited, which made me ask Prince Maurice what there is of it. Prince Maurice says, with his usual plainness and dryness in talk, there is something true, but a great deal false of what is reported. I desired to know of him what there was of the first. Prince Maurice tells me short and coldly, that he had HEARD of such A PARROT; and though he believes nothing of it, and it was a good way off, yet he had so much curiosity as to send for the parrot: that it was a very great parrot; and when the parrot comes first into the room where Prince Maurice is, with a great many men about him, the parrot says presently, What a nice company is here. One of the men asks the parrot, ‘What thinkest thou that man is?,’ ostending his finger, and pointing to Prince Maurice. The parrot answers, ‘Some general -- or other.’ When the man brings the parrot close to Prince Maurice, Prince Maurice asks the parrot., “D'ou venez-vous?” The parrot answers, “De Marinnan.” Then Prince Maurice goes on, and poses a second question to the parrot. “A qui estes-vous?” The Parrot answers: “A un Portugais.” Prince Maurice asks a third question. “Que fais-tu la?” The parrot answers: “Je garde les poulles.”Prince Maurice smiles, which pleases the Parrot. Prince Maurice, violating a Griceian maxim, and being just informed that p, asks whether p. This is his fourth question. “Vous gardez les poulles?” The Parrot answers, “Oui, moi; et je scai bien faire.” The Parrott appeals to Peirce’s iconic system and makes the chuck four or five times that a man uses to make to chickens when a man calls them. I set down the words of this worthy dialogue in French, just as Prince Maurice said them to me. I ask Prince Maurice in what ‘language’ the parrot speaks. Prince Maurice says that the parrot speaks in Brazilian. I ask Prince William whether he understands the Brazilian language. Prince Maurice says: No, but he has taken care to have TWO interpreters by him, the one a Dutchman that spoke Brazilian, and the other a Brazilian that spoke Dutch; that Prince Maurice asked them separatelyand privately, and both of them AGREED in telling Prince Maurice just the same thing that the parrot had said. I could not but tell this ODD story, because it is so much out of the way, and from the first hand, and what may pass for a good one; for I dare say Prince Maurice at least believed himself in all he told me, having ever passed for a very honest and pious man. I leave it to naturalists to reason, and to other men to believe, as they please upon it. However, it is not, perhaps, amiss to relieve or enliven a busy scene sometimes with such digressions, whether to the purpose or no.Locke takes care that the reader should have the story at large in the author's own words, because he seems to me not to have thought it incredible.For it cannot be imagined that so able a man as he, who had sufficiency enough to warrant all the testimonies he gives of himself, should take so much pains, in a place where it had nothing to do, to pin so close, not only on a man whom he mentions as his friend, but on a prince in whom he acknowledges very great honesty and piety, a story which, if he himself thought incredible, he could not but also think RIDICULOUS. Prince Maurice, it is plain, who vouches this story, and our author, who relates it from him, both of them call this talker A PARROT. And Locke asks any one else who thinks such a story fit to be told, whether, if this PARROT, and all of its kind, had always talked, as we have a prince's word for it this one did,- whether, I say, they would not have passed for a race of RATIONAL ANIMALS; but yet, whether, for all that, they would have been allowed to be MEN, and not PARROTS? For I presume it is not the idea of A THINKING OR RATIONAL BEING alone that makes the idea of A MAN in most people's sense: but of A BODY, so and so shaped, joined to it: and if that be the idea of a MAN, the same successive body not shifted all at once, must, as well as  THE SAME IMMATERIAL SPIRIT, go to the making of the same MAN. So back to Grice’s pirotology.But first a precis of the conversation, or languaging:PARROT: What a nice company is here.MAN (pointing to Prince Maurice): What thinkest thou that man is?PARROT: Some general -- or other. (i. e. the parrot displays what Grice calls ‘up-take.’ The parrot recognizes the man’s c-intention. So far is ability to display uptake.PRINCE MAURICE: D'ou venez-vous?PARROT: De Marinnan.PRINCE MAURICE: A qui estes-vous?PARROT: A un Portugais.PRINCE MAURICE: Que fais-tu la?PARROT: Je garde les poulles.PRINCE MAURICE SMILES and flouts a Griceian maxim: Vous gardez les poulles?PARROT (losing patience, and grasping the Prince’s implicature that he doubts it): Oui, moi. Et je scai bien faire.(The Parrott then appeals to Peirce’s iconic system and makes the chuck five times that a man uses to make to chickens when a man calls them.)So back to Grice:“According to my most recent speculations about communication, one should distinguish between what I call the ‘factual’ or ‘de facto’ character of behind the state of affairs that one might describe as ‘rational agent A communicates that p,’ for those communication-relevant features which obtain or are present in the circumstances) the ‘titular’ or ‘de jure’ character, viz. the nested C-intending which is only deemed to be present. And the reason Grice calls it ‘nested’ is that it involves three sub-intentions:(C) Emissor E communicates that (psi*) p iff Emissor E c-intends that A recognises that E psi-s that p iffC1: Emissor E intends A to recognise that A psi-s that p.C2: Emissor intends that A recognise C1 by A recognising C2C3: There is no inference-element which is C-constitutive such that Emissor relies on it and yet does not intend A to recognise.Grice:“The titular or de jure character of the state of affairs that is described as “Emissor communicates that p,” involves self-reference in the closure clause regarding the third intention, C3, may be thought as being ‘regressive,’ or involving what mathematicians mean when they use “, …;” and the translators of Aristotle, ‘eis apeiron,’ translated as ‘ad infinitum.’There may be ways of UNDEEMING this, i. e. of stating that self-reference and closure are meant to BLOCK an infinite regress. Hence the circle, if there is one – one feature of a virtuous circle is that it doesn’t look like a circle simpliciter --  would be virtuous. The ‘de jure’ character stands for a situation which, in Grice’s words, is “infinitely complex,” and so cannot be actually present in toto – only DEEMED to be.”“In which case,” Grice concludes pointing to the otiosity or rendering inoperative, “to point out that THE INCONCEIVABLE actual presence of the ‘de jure’ character of ‘Emissor communicates that p’ WOULD, still, be possible, or would be detectable, only via the ‘use’ of something like ‘die Deutsche Sprache’ seem to serve little, if any, purpose.”“At its most meagre, the factual or ‘de facto’ character consists merely in the pre-rational ‘counterpart’ of the state of affairs describable by “Emissor E communicates that p,” which might amount to no more than making a certain sort of utterance in order thereby to get some creature to think or want some particular thing.This meagre condition does not involve a reference to any expertise regarding anything like ‘die Deutsche Sprache.’Let’s reformulate the condition.It’s just a pirot, at a ‘pre-rational’ level. The pirot does a thing T IN ORDER THEREBY to get some other pirot to think or do some particular thing. To echo Hare,Die Tur ist geschlossen, ja.Die Tur ist geschlossen, bitte.Grice continues as a corollary: “Maybe in a less straightforward instance of “Emissor E communicates that p” there is actually present the C-intention whose feasibility as an ‘intention’ suggests some ability to use ‘die Deutsche Sprache.’But vide “non-verbal communication,” pre-verbal communication, languaging, pre-conventional communication, gestural communication – as in What Grice has as “a gesture (a signal).” Not necessary ‘conventional,’ and MAYBE ‘established’ – is one-off sufficient for ‘established’? I think so. By waving his hand in a particular way (“a particular sort of hand wave”), the emissor communicates that he knows the route (or is about to leave the addressee).  Grice concludes about the less straightforward instances, that there can be no advance guarantee when this will be so, i. e. that there is actually present the C-intention whose feasibility as an intention points to some capacity to use ‘die Deutsche Sprache.’Grice adds: “It is in any case arguable that the use of ‘die Deutsche Sprache’ would here be an indispensable aid to philosophising about communication, rather than it being an element in the PHILOSOPHISING about communication!  Philosophers of Grice’s generation use ‘man’ on purpose to mean ‘mankind’. What a man means. What a man utters. The utterer is the man. In semiotics one can use something more Latinate, like gesturer, or emitter – or profferer. The distinction is between what an utterer means and what the logical and necessary implication. He doesn’t need to say this since ‘imply’ in the logical usage does not take utterer as subject. It’s what the utterer SAYS that implies this or that. (Strawson and Wiggins, p. 519). The utterer is possibly the ‘expresser.’

validum: How common and insidious was the talk of a realm of ‘values’ at Oxford in the early 1930s to have Barnes attack it, and Grice defend it? ‘The realm of values’ sounds like an ordinary man’s expression, and surely Oxford never had a Wilson Chair of Metaphysical Axiology.  validum is the correct form out of Roman ‘valeor.’ Grice finds the need for the English equivalent, and plays with constructing the ‘concept’ “to be of value”! There’s also the axiologicum. The root for ‘value’ as ‘axis’ is found in Grice’s favourite book of the Republic, the First! Grice sometimes enjoys sounding pretentious and uses the definite article ‘the’ indiscriminately, just to tease Flew, his tutee, who said that talking of ‘the self’ is just ‘rubbish’. It is different with Grice’s ‘the good’ (to agathon), ‘the rational,’ (to logikon), ‘the valuable’ (valitum), and ‘the axiological’. Of course, whilesticking with ‘value,’ Grice plays with Grecian “τιμή.” Lewis and Short have ‘vălor,’ f. ‘valeo,’ which they render as ‘value,’ adding that it is supposed to translate in Gloss. Lab, Grecian ‘τιμή.’ ‘valor, τιμή, Gloss. Lab.’ ‘Valere,’ which of course algo gives English ‘valid,’ that Grice overuses, is said by Lewis and Short to be cognate with “vis,” “robur,” “fortissimus,” cf. debilis” and they render as “to be strong.” So one has to be careful here. “Axiology” is a German thing, and not used at Clifton or Oxford, where they stick with ‘virtus’ or ‘arete.’ This or that Graeco-Roman philosopher may have explored a generic approach to ‘value.’ Grice somewhat dismisses Hare who in Language of Morals very clearly distinguishes between deontic ‘ought’ and teleological, value-judgemental ‘good.’ For ‘good’ may have an aesthetic use: ‘that painting is good,’ the food is good). The sexist ‘virtus’ of the Romans perhaps did a disservice to Grecian ‘arete,’ but Grice hardly uses ‘arete,’ himself. It is etymologically unrelated to ‘agathon,’ yet rumour has it that ‘arete,’ qua ‘excellence,’ is ‘aristos,’ the superlative of ‘agathon.’ Since Aristotle is into the ‘mesotes,’ Grice worries not. Liddell and Scott have “ἀρετή” and render it simpliciter as “goodness, excellence, of any kind,” adding that “in Hom. esp. of manly qualities”: “ποδῶν ἀρετὴν ἀναφαίνων;” “ἀμείνων παντοίας ἀρετὰς ἠμὲν πόδας ἠδὲ μάχεσθαι καὶ νόον;” so of the gods, “τῶν περ καὶ μείζων ἀ. τιμή τε βίη τε;” also of women, “ἀ. εἵνεκα for valour,” “ἀ. ἀπεδείκνυντο,” “displayed brave deeds.”  But when Liddell and Scott give the philosophical references (Plathegel and Ariskant), they do render “ἀρετή,” as ‘value,’ generally, excellence, “ἡ ἀ. τελείωσίς τις” Arist. Met. 1021b20, cf. EN1106a15, etc.; of persons, “ἄνδρα πὺξ ἀρετὰν εὑρόντα,” “τὸ φρονεῖν ἀ. μεγίστη,” “forms of excellence, “μυρίαι ἀνδρῶν ἀ.;” “δικαστοῦ αὕτη ἀ.;” esp. moral virtue, opp. “κακία,” good nature, kindness, etc. We should not be so concerned about this, were not for the fact that Grice explored Foot, not just on meta-ethics as a ‘suppositional’ imperratives, but  on ‘virtue’ and ‘vice,’ by Foot, who had edited a reader in meta-ethics for the series of Grice’s friend, Warnock. Grice knows that when he hears the phrases value system, or belief system, he is conversing with a relativist. So he plays jocular here. If a value is not a concept, a value system at least is not what Davidson calls a conceptual scheme. However, in “The conception of value” (henceforth, “Conception”) Grice does argue that value IS a concept, and thus part of the conceptual scheme by Quine. Hilary Putnam congratulates Grice on this in “Fact and value,” crediting Baker – i. e. Judy – into the bargain. While utilitarianism, as exemplified by Bentham, denies that a moral intuition need be taken literally, Bentham assumes the axiological conceptual scheme of hedonistic eudaemonism, with eudaemonia as the maximal value (summum bonum) understood as hedone. The idea of a system of values (cf. system of ends) is meant to unify the goals of the agent in terms of the pursuit of eudæmonia. Grice wants to disgress from naturalism, and the distinction between a description and anything else. Consider the use of ‘rational’ as applied to ‘value.’ A naturalist holds that ‘rational’ can be legitimately apply to the ‘doxastic’ realm, not to the ‘buletic’ realm. A desire (or a ‘value’) a naturalist would say is not something of which ‘rational’ is predicable. Suppose, Grice says, I meet a philosopher who is in the habit of pushing pins into other philosophers. Grice asks the philosopher why he does this. The philosopher says that it gives him pleasure. Grice asks him whether it is the fact that he causes pain that gives him pleasure. The philosopher replies that he does not mind whether he causes pain. What gives him pleasure is the physical sensation of driving a pin into a philosopher’s body. Grice asks him whether he is aware that his actions cause pain. The philosopher says that he is. Grice asks him whether he would not feel pain if others did this to him. The philosopher agrees that he would. I ask him whether he would allow this to happen. He says that he guesses he would seek to prevent it. Grice asks him whether he does not think that others must feel pain when he drives pins into them, and whether he should not do to others what he would try to prevent them from doing to him. The philosopher says that pins driven into him cause him pain and he wishes to prevent this. Pins driven by him into others do not cause him pain, but pleasure, and he therefore wishes to do it. Grice asks him whether the fact that he causes pain to other philosophers does not seem to him to be relevant to the issue of whether it is rationally undesirable to drive pins into people. He says that he does not see what possible difference can pain caused to others, or the absence of it, make to the desirability of deriving pleasure in the way that he does. Grice asks him what it is that gives him pleasure in this particular activity. The philosopher replies that he likes driving pins into a philosopher’s resilient body. Grice asks whether he would derive equal pleasure from driving pins into a tennis ball. The philosopher says that he would derive equal pleasure, that into what he drives his pins, a philosopher or a tennis ball, makes no difference to him – the pleasure is similar, and he is quite prepared to have a tennis ball substituted, but what possible difference can it make whether his pins perforate living men or tennis balls? At this point, Grice begins to suspect that the philosopher is evil. Grice does not feel like agreeing with a naturalist, who reasons that the pin-pushing philosopher is a philosopher with a very different scale of moral values from Grice, that a value not being susceptible to argument, Grice may disagree but not reason with the pin-pushing philosopher. Grice rather sees the pin-pushing philosopher beyond the reach of communication from the world occupied by him. Communication is as unattainable as it is with a philosopher who that he is a doorknob, as in the story by Hoffman. A value enters into the essence of what constitutes a person. The pursuit of a rational end is part of the essence of a person. Grice does not claim any originality for his position (which much to Ariskant), only validity. The implicatum by Grice is that rationalism and axiology are incompatible, and he wants to cancel that. So the keyword here is rationalistic axiology, in the neo-Kantian continental vein, with a vengeance. Grice arrives at value (validitum, optimum, deeming) via Peirce on meaning. And then there is the truth “value,” a German loan-translation (as value judgment, Werturteil). The sorry story of deontic logic, Grice says, faces Jørgensens dilemma. The dilemma by Jørgensens is best seen as a trilemma, Grice says; viz. Reasoning requires that premise and conclusion have what Boole, Peirce, and Frege call a “truth” value. An imperative dos not have a “truth” value. There may be a reasoning with an imperative as premise or conclusion. A philosopher can reject the first horn and provide an inference mechanism on elements – the input of the premise and the output of the conclusion -- which are not presupposed to have a “truth” value. A philosopher can reject the second horn and restrict ‘satisfactory’ value to a doxastic embedding a buletic (“He judges he wills…”). A philosopher can reject the third horn, and refuse to explore the desideratum. Grice generalizes over value as the mode-neutral ‘satisfactory.’ Both ‘p’ and “!p” may be satisfactory. ‘.p’ has doxastic value (0/1); ‘!p’ has buletic value  (0/1). The mode marker of the utterance guides the addresse you as to how to read ‘satisfactory.’ Grice’s ‘satisfactory’ is a variation on a theme by Hofstadter and McKinsey, who elaborate a syntax for the imperative mode, using satisfaction. They refer to what they call the ‘satisfaction-function’ of a fiat. A fiat is ‘satisfied’ (as The door is closed may also be said to be satisfied iff the door is closed) iff what is commanded is the case. The fiat ‘Let the door be closed’ is satisfied if the door is closed. An unary or dyadic operator becomes a satisfaction-functor. As Grice puts it, an inferential rule, which flat rationality is the capacity to apply, is not arbitrary. The inferential rule picks out a transition of acceptance in which transmission of ‘satisfactory’ is guaranteed or expected. As Grice notes, since mode marker indicate the species ‘satisfactory’ does. He imports into the object-language ‘It is satisfactory-d/p that’ just in case psi-d/b-p is satisfactory. Alla Tarski, Grice introduces ‘It is acceptable that’: It is acceptable that psi-d/b-p is satisfactory-b/d just in case ‘psi-d/b-p is satisfactory-d/b’ is satisfactory-b/d. Grice goes on to provide a generic value-assignment for satisfactoriness-functors. For coordinators: “φ Λ ψ” is 1-b/d just in case φ is 1-b/d and ψ is 1-b/d. “φ ν ψ”  is 1-b/d just in case one of the pair, φ and ψ, is 1-b/d. For subordinator: “φ⊃ψ” is 1-b/d just in case either φ is 0-b/d or ψ is 0-b/d. There are, however, a number of points to be made. It is not fully clear to Grice just how strong the motivation is for assigning a value to a mode-neutral, generic functor. Also he is assuming symmetry, leaving room for a functor is introduced if a restriction is imposed. Consider a bi-modal utterance. “The beast is filthy and do not touch it” and “The beast is filthy and I shall not touch it” seem all right. The commutated “Do not touch the beast and it is filthy” is dubious. “Touch the beast and it will bite you,” while idiomatic is hardly an imperative, since ‘and’ is hardly a conjunction. “Smith is taking a bath or leave the bath-room door open” is intelligible. The commutated “Leave the bath-room door open or Smith is taking a bath” is less so. In a bi-modal utterance, Grice makes a case for the buletic to be dominant over the doxastic. The crunch comes, however, with one of the four possible unary satisfactoriness-functors, especially with regard to the equivalence of  “~psi-b/d-p” and “psi-b/d-~p). Consider “Let it be that I now put my hand on my head” or  “Let it be that my bicycle faces north” in which neither seems to be either satisfactory or unsatisfactory. And it is a trick to assign a satisfactory value to “~psi-b/d-p” and “~psi-b/d~p.” Do we proscribe this or that form altogether, for every cases? But that would seem to be a pity, since ~!~p seems to be quite promising as a representation for you may (permissive) do alpha that satisfies p; i.e., the utterer explicitly conveys his refusal to prohibit his addressee A doing alpha. Do we disallow embedding of (or iterating) this or that form? But that (again if we use ~!p and ~!~p  to represent may) seems too restrictive. Again, if !p is neither buletically satisfactory nor buletically unsatisfactory (U could care less) do we assign a value other than 1 or 0 to !p (desideratively neuter, 0.5). Or do we say, echoing Quine, that we have a buletically satisfactoriness value gap? These and other such problems would require careful consideration. Yet Grice cannot see that those problems would prove insoluble, any more than this or that analogous problem connected with Strawsons presupposition (Dont arrest the intruder!) are insoluble. In Strawsons case, the difficulty is not so much to find a solution as to select the best solution from those which present themselves. Grice takes up the topic of a calculus in connection with the introduction rule and the elimination rule of a modal such as must. We might hope to find, for each member of a certain family of modalities, an introduction rule and an elimination rule which would be analogous to the rules available for classical logical constants. Suggestions are not hard to come by. Let us suppose that we are seeking to provide such a pair of rules for the particular modality of necessity □. For (□,+) Grice considers the following (Grice thinks equivalent) forms: if φ is demonstrable, □φ is demonstrable. Provided φ is dependent on no assumptions, derive φ from □φ. For  (□,-), Grice considers From □φ derive φ. It is to be understood, of course, that the values of the syntactical variable φ would contain either a buletic or a doxastic mode markers. Both !p and .p would be proper substitutes for φ but p would not. Grice wonders: [W]hat should be said of Takeuti’s conjecture (roughly) that the nature of the introduction rule determines the character of the elimination rule? There seems to be no particular problem about allowing an introduction rule which tells us that, if it is established in P’s personalised system that φ, it is necessary, with respect to P, that φ is doxastically satisfactory/establishable. The accompanying elimination rule is, however, slightly less promising. If we suppose such a rule to tell us that, if one is committed to the idea that it is necessary, with respect to P, that φ, one is also committed to whatever is expressed by φ, we shall be in trouble. For such a rule is not acceptable. φ will be a buletic expression such as Let it be that Smith eats his hat. And my commitment to the idea that Smiths system requires him to eat his hat does not ipso facto involve me in accepting volitively Let Smith eat his hat. But if we take the elimination rule rather as telling us that, if it is necessary, with respect to X, that let X eat his hat, then let X eat his hat possesses satisfactoriness-with-respect-to-X, the situation is easier. For this person-relativised version of the rule seems inoffensive, even for Takeuti, we hope.  Grice, following Mackie, uses absolutism, as opposed to relativism, which denies the rational basis to attitude ascriptions (but cf. Hare on Subjectsivism). Grice is concerned with the absence of a thorough discussion of value by English philosophers, other than Hare (and he is only responding to Mackie!). Continental philosophers, by comparison, have a special discipline, axiology, for it! Similarly, a continental-oriented tradition Grice finds in The New World in philosophers of a pragmatist bent, such as Carus. Grice wants to say that rationality is a value, because it is a faculty that a creature (human) displays to adapt and survive to his changing environments. The implicature of the title is that values have been considered in the English philosophical tradition, almost alla Nietzsche, to belong to the realm irrational. Grice grants that axiological implicatum rests on a PRE-rational propension. While Grice could play with “the good” in the New World, as a Lit. Hum. he knew he had to be slightly more serious. The good is one of the values, but what is valuing? Would the New Worlders understand valuing unattached to the pragmatism that defines them? Grice starts by invoking Hume on his bright side: the concept of value, versus the conception of value. Or rather, how the concept of value derives from the conception of value. A distinction that would even please Aquinas (conceptum/conceptio), and the Humeian routine. Some background for his third Carus lecture. He tries to find out what Mackie means when he says that a value is ultimately Subjectsive. What about inter-Subjectsive, and constructively objective? Grice constructs absolute value out of relative value. But once a rational pirot P (henceforth, P – Grice liked how it sounded like Locke’s parrot) constructs value, the P assigns absolute status to rationality qua value. The P cannot then choose not to be rational at the risk of ceasing to exist (qua person, or essentially rationally human agent). A human, as opposed to a person, assigns relative value to his rationality. A human is accidentally rational. A person is necessarily so. A distinction seldom made by Aristotle and some of his dumbest followers obsessed with the modal-free adage, Homo rationale animal. Short and Lewis have “hūmānus” (old form: hemona humana et hemonem hominem dicebant, Paul. ex Fest. p. 100 Müll.; cf. homo I.init.), adj., f. “homo,” and which they render as “of or belonging to man, human.” Grice also considers the etymology of ‘person.’ Lewis and Short have ‘persōna,’  according to Gabius Bassus ap. Gell. 5, 7, 1 sq., f. ‘persŏno,’ “to sound through, with the second syllable lengthened.’ Falsa est (finitio), si dicas, Equus est animal rationale: nam est equus animal, sed irrationale, Quint.7,3,24:homo est animal rationale; “nec si mutis finis voluptas, rationalibus quoque: quin immo ex contrario, quia mutis, ideo non rationalibus;” “a rationali ad rationale;” “τὸ λογικόν ζῷον,” ChrysiStoic.3.95; ἀρεταὶ λ., = διανοητικαί, oἠθικαί, Arist. EN1108b9; “λογικός, ή, όν, (λόγος), ζῶον λόγον ἔχον NE, 1098a3-5. λόγον δὲ μόνον ἄνθρωπος ἔχει τῶν ζῴων, man alone of all animals possesses speech, from the Politics. Grice takes the stratification of values by Hartmann much more seriously than Barnes. Grice plays with rational motivation. He means it seriously. The motivation is the psychological bite, but since it is qualified by rational, it corresponds to the higher more powerful bit of the soul, the rational soul. There are, for Grice, the Grecians, Kantotle and Plathegel, three souls: the vegetal, the animal, and the rational. As a matter of history, Grice reaches value (in its guises of optimum and deeming) via his analysis of meaning by Peirce. Many notions are value-paradeigmatic. The most important of all philosophical notions that of rationality, presupposes objective value as one of its motivations. For Grice, ratio can be understood cognoscendi but also essendi, indeed volendi and fiendi, too. Rational motivation involves a ratio cognoscendi and a ratio volendi; objective, “objectum,” and “objectus,” ūs, m. f. “obicio,” rendered as “a casting before, a putting against, in the way, or opposite, an opposing; or, neutr., a lying before or opposite (mostly poet. and in postAug. prose): dare objectum parmaï, the opposing of the shield” “vestis;” “insula portum efficit objectu laterum,” “by the opposition,” “cum terga flumine, latera objectu paludis tegerentur;” “molis;” “regiones, quæ Tauri montis objectu separantur;” “solem interventu lunæ occultari, lunamque terræ objectu, the interposition,” “eademque terra objectu suo umbram noctemque efficiat;” “al. objecta soli: hi molium objectus (i. e. moles objectas) scandere, the projection,” transf., that which presents itself to the sight, an object, appearance, sight, spectacle;” al. objecto;  and if not categoric. This is analogous to the overuse by Grice of psychoLOGICAL when he just means souly. It is perhaps his use of psychological for souly that leads to take any souly concept as a theoretical concept within a folksy psychoLOGICAL theory. Grice considered the stratification of values, alla Hartmann, unlike Barnes, who dismissed him in five minutes. “Some like Philippa Foot, but Hare is MY man,” Grice would say. “Virtue” ethics was becoming all the fashion, especially around Somerville. Hare was getting irritated by the worse offender, his Anglo-Welsh tutee, originally with a degree from the other place, Williams. Enough for Grice to want to lecture on value, and using Carus as an excuse! Mackie was what Oxonians called a colonial, and a clever one! In fact, Grice quotes from Hares contribution to a volume on Mackie. Hares and Mackies backgrounds could not be more different. Like Grice, Hare was a Lit. Hum., and like Grice, Hare loves the Grundlegung. But unlike Grice and Barnes, Hare would have nothing to say about Stevenson. Philosophers in the play group of Grice never took the critique by Ayer of emotivism seriously. Stevenson is the thing. V. Urmson on the emotive theory of ethics, tracing it to English philosphers like Ogden, Barnes, and Duncan-Jones. Barnes was opposing both Prichard (who was the Whites professor of moral philosophy – and more of an interest than Moore is, seeing that Prichard is Barness tutor at Corpus) and Hartmann. Ryle would have nothing to do with Hartmann, but these were the days before Ryle took over Oxford, and forbade any reference to a continental philosopher, even worse if a “Hun.” Grice reaches the notion of value through that of meaning. If Peirce is simplistic, Grice is not. But his ultra-sophisticated analysis ends up being deemed to hold in this or that utterer. And deeming is valuing, as is optimum. While Grice rarely used axiology, he should! A set of three lectures, which are individually identified below. I love Carus! Grice was undecided as to what his Carus lectures were be on. Grice explores meaning under its value optimality guise in Meaning revisited. Grice thinks that a value-paradeigmatic notion allows him to respond in a more apt way to what some critics were raising as a possible vicious circle in his approach to semantic and psychological notions. The Carus lectures are then dedicated to the construction, alla Hume, of a value-paradeigmatic notion in general, and value itself. Grice starts by quoting Austin, Hare, and Mackie, of Oxford. The lectures are intended to a general audience, provided it is a philosophical general audience. Most of the second lecture is a subtle exploration by Grice of the categorical imperative of Kant, with which he had struggled in the last Locke lecture in “Aspects,” notably the reduction of the categorical imperative to this or that counsel of prudence with an implicated protasis to the effect that the agent is aiming at eudæmonia. The Carus Lectures are three: on objectivity and value, on relative and absolute value, and on metaphysics and value. The first lecture, on objectivity and value, is a review Inventing right and wrong by Mackie, quoting Hare’s antipathy for a value being ‘objective’. The second lecture, on relative and absolute value, is an exploration on the categorical imperative, and its connection with a prior hypothetical or suppositional imperative. The third lecture, on metaphycis and value, is an eschatological defence of absolute value. The collective citation should be identified by each lecture separately. This is a metaphysical defence by Grice of absolute value. The topic fascinates Grice, and he invents a few routines to cope with it. Humeian projection rationally reconstructs the intuitive concept being of value. Category shift allows to put a value such as the disinterestedness by Smith in grammatical subject position, thus avoiding to answer that the disinterestedness of Smith is in the next room, since it is not the spatio-temporal continuan prote ousia that Smith is. But the most important routine is that of trans-substantatio, or metousiosis. A human reconstructs as a rational personal being, and alla Kantotle, whatever he judges is therefore of absolute value. The issue involves for Grice the introduction of a telos qua aition, causa finalis (final cause), role, or métier. The final cause of a tiger is to tigerise, the final cause of a reasoner is to reason, the final cause of a person is to personise. And this entails absolute value, now metaphysically defended. The justification involves the ideas of end-setting, unweighed rationality, autonomy, and freedom. In something like a shopping list that Grice provides for issues on free. Attention to freedom calls for formidably difficult undertakings including the search for a justification for the adoption or abandonment of an ultimate end. The point is to secure that freedom does not dissolve into compulsion or chance. Grice proposes four items for this shopping list. A first point is that full action calls for strong freedom. Here one has to be careful that since Grice abides by what he calls the Modified Occams Razor in the third James lecture on Some remarks about logic and conversation, he would not like to think of this two (strong freedom and weak freedom) as being different senses of free. Again, his calls for is best understood as presupposes. It may connect with, say, Kanes full-blown examples of decisions in practical settings that call for or presuppose libertarianism. A second point is that the buletic-doxastic justification of action has to accomodate for the fact that we need freedom which is strong. Strong or serious autonomy or freedom ensures that this or that action is represented as directed to this or that end E which are is not merely the agents, but which is also freely or autonomously adopted or pursued by the agent. Grice discusses the case of the gym instructor commanding, Raise your left arm! The serious point then involves this free adoption or free pursuit. Note Grices use of this or that personal-identity pronoun: not merely mine, i.e. not merely the agents, but in privileged-access position. This connects with what Aristotle says of action as being up to me, and Kant’s idea of the transcendental ego. An end is the agents in that the agent adopts it with liberum arbitrium. This or that ground-level desire may be circumstantial. A weak autonomy or freedom satisfactorily accounts for this or that action as directed to an end which is mine. However, a strong autonomy or freedom, and a strong autonomy or freedom only, accounts for this or that action as directed to an end which is mine, but, unlike, say, some ground-level circumstantial desire which may have sprung out of some circumstantial adaptability to a given scenario, is, first, autonomously or freely adopted by the agent, and, second, autonomously or freely pursued by the agent. The use of the disjunctive particle or in the above is of some interest. An agent may autonomously or freely adopt an end, yet not care to pursue it autonomously or freely, even in this strong connotation that autonomous or free sometimes has. A further point relates to causal indeterminacy. Any attempt to remedy this situation by resorting to causal indeterminacy or chance will only infuriate the scientist without aiding the philosopher. This remark by Grice has to be understood casually. For, as it can be shown, this or that scientist may well have resorted to precisely that introduction and in any case have not self-infuriated. The professional tag that is connoted by philosopher should also be seen as best implicated than entailed. A scientist who does resort to the introduction of causal indeterminacy may be eo ipso be putting forward a serious consideration regarding ethics or meta-ethics. In other words, a cursory examination of the views of a scientist like Eddington, beloved by Grice, or this or that moral philosopher like Kane should be born in mind when considering this third point by Grice. The reference by Grice to chance, random, and causal indeterminacy, should best be understood vis-à-vis Aristotles emphasis on tykhe, fatum, to the effect that this or that event may just happen just by accident, which may well open a can of worms for the naive Griceian, but surely not the sophisticated one (cf. his remarks on accidentally, in Prolegomena). A further item in Grices shopping list involves the idea of autonomous or free as a value, or optimum. The specific character of what Grice has as  strong autonomy or freedom may well turn out to consist, Grice hopes, in the idea of this or that action as the outcome of a certain kind of strong valuation  ‒ where this would include the rational selection, as per e.g. rational-decision theory, of this or that ultimate end. What Grice elsewhere calls out-weighed or extrinsically weighed rationality, where rational includes the buletic, of the end and not the means to it. This or that full human action calls for the presence of this or that reason, which require that this or that full human action for which this or that reason accounts should be the outcome of a strong rational valuation. Like a more constructivist approach, this line suggests that this or that action may require, besides strong autonomy or freedom, now also strong valuation. Grice sets to consider how to adapt the buletic-doxastic soul progression to reach these goals. In the case of this or that ultimate end E, justification should be thought of as lying, directly, at least, in this or that outcome, not on the actual phenomenal fulfilment of this or that end, but rather of the, perhaps noumenal, presence qua end. Grice relates to Kants views on the benevolentia or goodwill and malevolentia, or evil will, or illwill. Considers Smiths action of giving Jones a job. Smith may be deemed to have given Jones a job, whether or not Jones actually gets the job. It is Smiths benevolentia, or goodwill, not his beneficentia, that matters. Hence in Short and Lewis, we have “bĕnĕfĭcentĭa,” f. “beneficus,” like “magnificentia” f. magnificus, and “munificentia” f. munificus; Cicero, Off. 1, 7, 20, and which they thus render as “the quality of beneficus, kindness, beneficence, an honorable and kind treatment of others” (omaleficentia, Lact. Ira Dei, 1, 1; several times in the philos. writings of Cicero. Elsewhere rare: quid praestantius bonitate et beneficentiā?” “beneficentia, quam eandem vel benignitatem vel liberalitatem appellari licet,” “comitas ac beneficentia,” “uti beneficentiā adversus supplices,”“beneficentia augebat ornabatque subjectsos.” In a more general fashion then, it is the mere presence of an end qua end of a given action that provides the justification of the end, and not its phenomenal satisfaction or fulfilment. Furthermore, the agents having such and such an end, E1, or such and such a combination of ends, E1 and E2, would be justified by showing that the agents having this end exhibits some desirable feature, such as this or that combo being harmonious. For how can one combine ones desire to smoke with ones desire to lead a healthy life? Harmony is one of the six requirements by Grice for an application of happy to the life of Smith. The buletic-doxastic souly ascription is back in business at a higher level. The suggestion would involve an appeal, in the justification of this or that end, to this or that higher-order end which would be realised by having this or that lower, or first-order end of a certain sort. Such valuation of this or that lower-order end lies within reach of a buletic-doxastic souly ascription. Grice has an important caveat at this point. This or that higher-order end involved in the defense would itself stand in need of justification, and the regress might well turn out to be vicious. One is reminded of Watson’s requirement for a thing like freedom or personal identity to overcome this or that alleged counterexample to freewill provided by H. Frankfurt. It is after the laying of a shopping list, as it were, and considerations such as those above that Grice concludes his reflection with a defense of a noumenon, complete with the inner conflict that it brings. Attention to the idea of autonomous and free leads the philosopher to the need to resolve if not dissolve the most important unsolved problem of philosophy, viz. how an agent can be, at the same time, a member of both the phenomenal world and the noumenal world, or, to settle the internal conflict between one part of our rational nature, the doxastic, even scientific, part which seems to call for the universal reign of a deterministic law and the other buletic part which insists that not merely moral responsibility but every variety of rational belief demands exemption from just such a reign. In this lecture, Grice explores freedom and value from a privileged-access incorrigible perspective rather than the creature construction genitorial justification. Axiology – v. axiological.  Refs.: The main source is The construction of value, the Carus lectures, Clarendon. But there are scattered essays on value and valuing in the Grice Papers. H. P. Grice, “Objectivity and value,” s. V, c. 8-f. 18, “The rational motivation for objective value,” s. V, c. 8-f. 19, “Value,” s. V, c. 9-f. 20; “Value, metaphysics, and teleology,” s. V, c. 9-f. 23, “Values, morals, absolutes, and the metaphysical,” s. V., c. 9-f.  24; “Value sub-systems and the Kantian problem,” s. V. c. 9-ff. 25-27; “Values and rationalism,” s. V, c. 9-f. 28; while the Carus are in the second series, in five folders, s. II, c-2, ff. 12-16, the H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

verum: H. P. Grice was always happy with a ‘correspondence’ theory of truth. It was what Aristotle thought. So why change? The fact that Austin agreed helped. The fact that Strawson applied Austin’s shining new tool of the performatory had him fashion a new shining skid, and that helped, because, once Grice has identified a philosophical mistake, that justifies his role as methodologist in trying to ‘correct’ the mistake. The Old Romans did not have an article. For them it is the unum, the verum, the bonum, and the pulchrum. They were trying to translate the very articled Grecian ‘to alethes,’ ‘to agathon,’ and ‘to kallon.’ Grecian Grice is able to restore the articles. He would use ‘the alethic’ for the ‘verum,’ after von Wright. But occasionally uses the ‘verum’ root. E. g. when his account of ‘personal identity’ was seen to fail to distinguish between a ‘veridical’ memory and a non-veridical one. If it had not been for Strawson’s ‘ditto’ theory to the ‘verum,’ Grice would not have minded much. Like Austin, his inclination was for a ‘correspondence’ theory of truth alla Aristotle and Tarski, applied to the utterance, or ‘expressum.’ So, while we cannot say that an utterer is TRUE, we can say that he is TRUTHFUL, and trustworthy (Anglo-Saxon ‘trust,’ being cognate with ‘true,’ and covering both the credibility and desirability realms. Grice approaches the ‘verum’ in terms of predicate calculus. So we need at least an utterance of the form, ‘the dog is shaggy.’ An utterance of ‘The dog is shaggy’ is true iff the denotatum of ‘the dog’ is a member of the class ‘shaggy.’ So, when it comes to ‘verum,’ Grice feels like ‘solving’ a problem rather than looking for new ones. He thought that Strawson’s controversial ‘ditto’ was enough of a problem ‘to get rid of.’

Grice’s shining new tool: Or weapon. Grice refers to the implicatum as a philosopher’s tool, and that the fun comes in the application. Strawson and Wiggins p. 522, reminds us of Austin. Austin used to say that when a philosopher “forges a new weapon, he is also fshioning new skids to put under his feet.” It is perhaps inappropriate that a memorial should mention this, but here they were, the memorialists. They were suggesting that Grice forged a shining new tool, the implicature, or implicatum – rather, he proposed a rational explanation for the distinction between what an emissor means (e. g., that p) and what anything else may be said, ‘metabolically,’ to “mean.” Suggesting an analogy with J. L. Austin and his infelicitious notion of infelicity, which found him fashioning a shining new skid, the memorialists suggest the same for Grice – but of course the analogy does not apply.

Yog and Zog: This is an expansion by Grice on the implicatum of a ‘propositio conditionalis.’ Grice, feeling paradoxical, invites us to suppose a scenario involving ‘if.’ He takes it as a proof that his account of the conversational implicatum of ‘if’ is, as Strawson did not agree, correct, and that what an utterer explicitly conveys by ‘if p, q’ is ‘p > q.’  that two chess players, Yog and Zog, play 100 games under the following conditions. Yog is white nine of ten times. There are no draws.  And the results are:  Yog, when white, won 80 of 90 games. Yog, when black, won zero of ten games.  This implies that:  8/9 times, if Yog was white, Yog won. 1/2 of the time, if Yog lost, Yog was black.  9/10 that either Yog wasnt white or he won.  From these statements, it might appear one could make these deductions by contraposition and conditional disjunction: If Yog was white, then 1/2 of the time Yog won. 9/10 times, if Yog was white, then he won.  But both propositions are untrue. They contradict the assumption. In fact, they do not provide enough information to use Bayesian reasoning to reach those conclusions. That might be clearer if the propositions had instead been stated differently. When Yog was white, Yog won 8/9 times. No information is given about when Yog was black. When Yog lost, Yog was black 1/2 the time. No information is given about when Yog won. (9/10 times, either Yog was black and won, Yog was black and lost, or Yog was white and won. No information is provided on how the 9/10 is divided among those three situations. The paradox by Grice shows that the exact meaning of statements involving conditionals and probabilities is more complicated than may be obvious on casual examination. Refs.: Grice’s interest with ‘if’ surely started after he carefully read the section on ‘if’ and the horseshoe in Strawson’s Introduction to Logical Theory. He was later to review his attack on Strawson in view of Strawson’s defense in ‘If and the horseshoe.’ The polemic was pretty much solved as a matter of different intuitions: what Grice sees as a conversational implicatum, Strawson does see as an ‘implicatum,’ but a non-defeasible one – what Grice would qualify as ‘conventional.’ Grice leaves room for an implicatum to be nonconversational and yet nonconventional, but it is not worth trying to fit Strawson’s suggestion in this slot, since Strawson, unlike Grice, has nothing against a convention. Grice was motivated to formulate his ‘paradox,’ seeing that Strawson was saying that the so-called ‘paradoxes’ of ‘entailment’ and ‘implication’ are a misnomer. “They are not paradoxical; they are false!” Grice has specific essays on both the paradoxes of entailment and the paradoxes of implication. The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC MSS 90/135c, The University of California, Berkeley.