THESAVRVS GRICEIANVM -- in twelve volumes, vol. II.

Carnap, r: the inventor, with Russell, of the pirot. -- G.-born  philosopher, one of the leaders of the Vienna Circle, a movement loosely called logical positivism or logical empiricism. He made fundamental contributions to semantics and the philosophy of science, as well as to the foundations of probability and inductive logic. He was a staunch advocate of, and active in, the unity of science movement. Carnap received his Ph.D. in philosophy from the  of Jena in 1. His first major work was Die Logische Aufbau der Welt 8, in which he sought to apply the new logic recently developed by Frege and by Russell and Whitehead to problems in the philosophy of science. Although influential, it was not tr. until 7, when it appeared as The Logical Structure of the World. It was important as one of the first clear and unambiguous statements that the important work of philosophy concerned logical structure: that language and its logic were to be the focus of attention. In 5 Carnap left his native G.y for the United States, where he taught at the  of Chicago and then at UCLA. Die Logiche Syntax der Sprach 4 was rapidly tr. into English, appearing as The Logical Syntax of Language 7. This was followed in 1 by Introduction to Semantics, and in 2 by The Formalization of Logic. In 7 Meaning and Necessity appeared; it provided the groundwork for a modal logic that would mirror the meticulous semantic development of first-order logic in the first two volumes. One of the most important concepts introduced in these volumes was that of a state description. A state description is the linguistic counterpart of a possible world: in a given language, the most complete description of the world that can be given. Carnap then turned to one of the most pervasive and important problems to arise in both the philosophy of science and the theory of meaning. To say that the meaning of a sentence is given by the conditions under which it would be verified as the early positivists did or that a scientific theory is verified by predictions that turn out to be true, is clearly to speak loosely. Absolute verification does not occur. To carry out the program of scientific philosophy in a realistic way, we must be able to speak of the support given by inconclusive evidence, either in providing epistemological justification for scientific knowledge, or in characterizing the meanings of many of the terms of our scientific language. This calls for an understanding of probability, or as Carnap preferred to call it, degree of confirmation. We must distinguish between two senses of probability: what he called probability1, corresponding to credibility, and probability2, corresponding to the frequency or empirical conception of probability defended by Reichenbach and von Mises. ‘Degree of confirmation’ was to be the formal concept corresponding to credibility. The first book on this subject, written from the same point of view as the works on semantics, was The Logical Foundations of Probability 0. The goal was a logical definition of ‘ch,e’: the degree of confirmation of a hypothesis h, relative to a body of evidence e, or the degree of rational belief that one whose total evidence was e should commit to h. Of course we must first settle on a formal language in which to express the hypothesis and the evidence; for this Carnap chooses a first-order language based on a finite number of one-place predicates, and a countable number of individual constants. Against this background, we perform the following reductions: ‘ch,e’ represents a conditional probability; thus it can be represented as the ratio of the absolute probabilCarlyle, Thomas Carnap, Rudolf 118   118 ity of h & e to the absolute probability of e. Absolute probabilities are represented by the value of a measure function m, defined for sentences of the language. The problem is to define m. But every sentence in Carnap’s languages is equivalent to a disjunction of state descriptions; the measure to be assigned to it must, according to the probability calculus, be the sum of the measures assigned to its constituent state descriptions. Now the problem is to define m for state descriptions. Recall that state descriptions were part of the machinery Carnap developed earlier. The function c† is a confirmation function based on the assignment of equal measures to each state description. It is inadequate, because if h is not entailed by e, c†h,e % m†h, the a priori measure assigned to h. We cannot “learn from experience.” A measure that does not have that drawback is m*, which is based on the assignment of equal measures to each structure description. A structure description is a set of state descriptions; two state descriptions belong to the same structure description just in case one can be obtained from the other by a permutation of individual constants. Within the structure description, equal values are assigned to each state description. In the next book, The Continuum of Inductive Methods, Carnap takes the rate at which we learn from experience to be a fundamental parameter of his assignments of probability. Like measures on state descriptions, the values of the probability of the singular predictive inference determine all other probabilities. The “singular predictive inference” is the inference from the observation that individual 1 has one set of properties, individual 2 has another set of properties, etc., to the conclusion: individual j will have property k. Finally, in the last works Studies in Inductive Logic and Probability, vols. I [1] and II [0], edited with Richard Jeffrey Carnap offered two long articles constituting his Basic System of Inductive Logic. This system is built around a language having families of attributes e.g., color or sound that can be captured by predicates. The basic structure is still monadic, and the logic still lacks identity, but there are more parameters. There is a parameter l that reflects the “rate of learning from experience”; a parameter h that reflects an inductive relation between values of attributes belonging to families. With the introduction of arbitrary parameters, Carnap was edging toward a subjective or personalistic view of probability. How far he was willing to go down the subjectivist garden path is open to question; that he discovered more to be relevant to inductive logic than the “language” of science seems clear. Carnap’s work on probability measures on formal languages is destined to live for a long time. So too is his work on formal semantics. He was a staunch advocate of the fruitfulness of formal studies in philosophy, of being clear and explicit, and of offering concrete examples. Beyond the particular philosophical doctrines he advocated, these commitments characterize his contribution to philosophy. 

Cartesianism – The word ‘Cartesianism’ shows that the ‘de’ that the English adored (“How to become a Brit” – Mykes) is mostly otiose! -- Descartes, R.: v. H. P. Grice, “Descartes on clear and distinct perception,” -- philosopher, a founder of the “modern age” and perhaps the most important figure in the intellectual revolution of the seventeenth century in which the traditional systems of understanding based on Aristotle were challenged and, ultimately, overthrown. His conception of philosophy was all-embracing: it encompassed mathematics and the physical sciences as well as psychology and ethics, and it was based on what he claimed to be absolutely firm and reliable metaphysical foundations. His approach to the problems of knowledge, certainty, and the nature of the human mind played a major part in shaping the subsequent development of philosophy. Life and works. Descartes was born in a small town near Tours that now bears his name. He was brought up by his maternal grandmother his mother having died soon after his birth, and at the age of ten he was sent to the recently founded Jesuit  of La Flèche in Anjou, where he remained as a boarding pupil for nine years. At La Flèche he studied classical literature and traditional classics-based subjects such as history and rhetoric as well as natural philosophy based on the Aristotelian system and theology. He later wrote of La Flèche that he considered it “one of the best schools in Europe,” but that, as regards the philosophy he had learned there, he saw that “despite being cultivated for many centuries by the best minds, it contained no point which was not disputed and hence doubtful.” At age twenty-two having taken a law degree de re Descartes, René 223   223 at Poitiers, Descartes set out on a series of travels in Europe, “resolving,” as he later put it, “to seek no knowledge other than that which could be found either in myself or the great book of the world.” The most important influence of this early period was Descartes’s friendship with the Dutchman Isaac Beeckman, who awakened his lifelong interest in mathematics  a science in which he discerned precision and certainty of the kind that truly merited the title of scientia Descartes’s term for genuine systematic knowledge based on reliable principles. A considerable portion of Descartes’s energies as a young man was devoted to pure mathematics: his essay on Geometry published in 1637 incorporated results discovered during the 1620s. But he also saw mathematics as the key to making progress in the applied sciences; his earliest work, the Compendium Musicae, written in 1618 and dedicated to Beeckman, applied quantitative principles to the study of musical harmony and dissonance. More generally, Descartes saw mathematics as a kind of paradigm for all human understanding: “those long chains composed of very simple and easy reasonings, which geometers customarily use to arrive at their most difficult demonstrations, gave me occasion to suppose that all the things which fall within the scope of human knowledge are interconnected in the same way” Discourse on the Method, Part II. In the course of his travels, Descartes found himself closeted, on November 10, 1619, in a “stove-heated room” in a town in southern G.y, where after a day of intense meditation, he had a series of vivid dreams that convinced him of his mission to found a new scientific and philosophical system. After returning to Paris for a time, he emigrated to Holland in 1628, where he was to live though with frequent changes of address for most of the rest of his life. By 1633 he had ready a treatise on cosmology and physics, Le Monde; but he cautiously withdrew the work from publication when he heard of the condemnation of Galileo by the Inquisition for rejecting as Descartes himself did the traditional geocentric theory of the universe. But in 1637 Descartes released for publication, in , a sample of his scientific work: three essays entitled the Optics, Meteorology, and Geometry. Prefaced to that selection was an autobiographical introduction entitled Discourse on the Method of rightly conducting one’s reason and reaching the truth in the sciences. This work, which includes discussion of a number of scientific issues such as the circulation of the blood, contains in Part IV a summary of Descartes’s views on knowledge, certainty, and the metaphysical foundations of science. Criticisms of his arguments here led Descartes to compose his philosophical masterpiece, the Meditations on First Philosophy, published in Latin in 1641  a dramatic account of the voyage of discovery from universal doubt to certainty of one’s own existence, and the subsequent struggle to establish the existence of God, the nature and existence of the external world, and the relation between mind and body. The Meditations aroused enormous interest among Descartes’s contemporaries, and six sets of objections by celebrated philosophers and theologians including Mersenne, Hobbes, Arnauld, and Gassendi were published in the same volume as the first edition a seventh set, by the Jesuit Pierre Bourdin, was included in the second edition of 1642. A few years later, Descartes published, in Latin, a mammoth compendium of his metaphysical and scientific views, the Principles of Philosophy, which he hoped would become a  textbook to rival the standard texts based on Aristotle. In the later 1640s, Descartes became interested in questions of ethics and psychology, partly as a result of acute questions about the implications of his system raised by Princess Elizabeth of Bohemia in a long and fruitful correspondence. The fruits of this interest were published in 1649 in a lengthy  treatise entitled The Passions of the Soul. The same year, Descartes accepted after much hesitation an invitation to go to Stockholm to give philosophical instruction to Queen Christina of Sweden. He was required to provide tutorials at the royal palace at five o’clock in the morning, and the strain of this break in his habits he had maintained the lifelong custom of lying in bed late into the morning led to his catching pneumonia. He died just short of his fifty-fourth birthday. The Cartesian system. In a celebrated simile, Descartes described the whole of philosophy as like a tree: the roots are metaphysics, the trunk physics, and the branches are the various particular sciences, including mechanics, medicine, and morals. The analogy captures at least three important features of the Cartesian system. The first is its insistence on the essential unity of knowledge, which contrasts strongly with the Aristotelian conception of the sciences as a series of separate disciplines, each with its own methods and standards of precision. The sciences, as Descartes put it in an early notebook, are all “linked together” in a sequence that is in principle as simple and straightforward as the series of numbers. The second point conveyed by the tree simile is the utility of philosophy for ordinary living: the tree is valued for its fruits, and these are gathered, Descartes points out, “not from the roots or the trunk but from the ends of the branches”  the practical sciences. Descartes frequently stresses that his principal motivation is not abstract theorizing for its own sake: in place of the “speculative philosophy taught in the Schools,” we can and should achieve knowledge that is “useful in life” and that will one day make us “masters and possessors of nature.” Third, the likening of metaphysics or “first philosophy” to the roots of the tree nicely captures the Cartesian belief in what has come to be known as foundationalism  the view that knowledge must be constructed from the bottom up, and that nothing can be taken as established until we have gone back to first principles. Doubt and the foundations of belief. In Descartes’s central work of metaphysics, the Meditations, he begins his construction project by observing that many of the preconceived opinions he has accepted since childhood have turned out to be unreliable; so it is necessary, “once in a lifetime” to “demolish everything and start again, right from the foundations.” Descartes proceeds, in other words, by applying what is sometimes called his method of doubt, which is explained in the earlier Discourse on the Method: “Since I now wished to devote myself solely to the search for truth, I thought it necessary to . . . reject as if absolutely false everything in which one could imagine the least doubt, in order to see if I was left believing anything that was entirely indubitable.” In the Meditations we find this method applied to produce a systematic critique of previous beliefs, as follows. Anything based on the senses is potentially suspect, since “I have found by experience that the senses sometimes deceive, and it is prudent never to trust completely those who have deceived us even once.” Even such seemingly straightforward judgments as “I am sitting here by the fire” may be false, since there is no guarantee that my present experience is not a dream. The dream argument as it has come to be called leaves intact the truths of mathematics, since “whether I am awake or asleep two and three make five”; but Descartes now proceeds to introduce an even more radical argument for doubt based on the following dilemma. If there is an omnipotent God, he could presumably cause me to go wrong every time I count two and three; if, on the other hand, there is no God, then I owe my origins not to a powerful and intelligent creator, but to some random series of imperfect causes, and in this case there is even less reason to suppose that my basic intuitions about mathematics are reliable. By the end of the First Meditation, Descartes finds himself in a morass of wholesale doubt, which he dramatizes by introducing an imaginary demon “of the utmost power and cunning” who is systematically deceiving him in every possible way. Everything I believe in  “the sky, the earth and all external things”  might be illusions that the demon has devised in order to trick me. Yet this very extremity of doubt, when pushed as far as it will go, yields the first indubitable truth in the Cartesian quest for knowledge  the existence of the thinking subject. “Let the demon deceive me as much as he may, he can never bring it about that I am nothing, so long as I think I am something. . . . I am, I exist, is certain, as often as it is put forward by me or conceived in the mind.” Elsewhere, Descartes expresses this cogito argument in the famous phrase “Cogito ergo sum” “I am thinking, therefore I exist”. Having established his own existence, Descartes proceeds in the Third Meditation to make an inventory of the ideas he finds within him, among which he identifies the idea of a supremely perfect being. In a much criticized causal argument he reasons that the representational content or “objective reality” of this idea is so great that it cannot have originated from inside his own imperfect mind, but must have been planted in him by an actual perfect being  God. The importance of God in the Cartesian system can scarcely be overstressed. Once the deity’s existence is established, Descartes can proceed to reinstate his belief in the world around him: since God is perfect, and hence would not systematically deceive, the strong propensity he has given us to believe that many of our ideas come from external objects must, in general, be sound; and hence the external world exists Sixth Meditation. More important still, Descartes uses the deity to set up a reliable method for the pursuit of truth. Human beings, since they are finite and imperfect, often go wrong; in particular, the data supplied by the senses is often, as Descartes puts it, “obscure and confused.” But each of us can nonetheless avoid error, provided we remember to withhold judgment in such doubtful cases and confine ourselves to the “clear and distinct” perceptions of the pure intellect. A reliable intellect was God’s gift to man, and if we use it with the greatest posDescartes, René Descartes, René 225   225 sible care, we can be sure of avoiding error Fourth Meditation. In this central part of his philosophy, Descartes follows in a long tradition going back to Augustine with its ultimate roots in Plato that in the first place is skeptical about the evidence of the senses as against the more reliable abstract perceptions of the intellect, and in the second place sees such intellectual knowledge as a kind of illumination derived from a higher source than man’s own mind. Descartes frequently uses the ancient metaphor of the “natural light” or “light of reason” to convey this notion that the fundamental intuitions of the intellect are inherently reliable. The label ‘rationalist’, which is often applied to Descartes in this connection, can be misleading, since he certainly does not rely on reason alone: in the development of his scientific theories he allows a considerable role to empirical observation in the testing of hypotheses and in the understanding of the mechanisms of nature his “vortex theory” of planetary revolutions is based on observations of the behavior of whirlpools. What is true, nonetheless, is that the fundamental building blocks of Cartesian science are the innate ideas chiefly those of mathematics whose reliability Descartes takes as guaranteed by their having been implanted in the mind by God. But this in turn gives rise to a major problem for the Cartesian system, which was first underlined by some of Descartes’s contemporaries notably Mersenne and Arnauld, and which has come to be known as the Cartesian circle. If the reliability of the clear and distinct perceptions of the intellect depends on our knowledge of God, then how can that knowledge be established in the first place? If the answer is that we can prove God’s existence from premises that we clearly and distinctly perceive, then this seems circular; for how are we entitled, at this stage, to assume that our clear and distinct perceptions are reliable? Descartes’s attempts to deal with this problem are not entirely satisfactory, but his general answer seems to be that there are some propositions that are so simple and transparent that, so long as we focus on them, we can be sure of their truth even without a divine guarantee. Cartesian science and dualism. The scientific system that Descartes had worked on before he wrote the Meditations and that he elaborated in his later work, the Principles of Philosophy, attempts wherever possible to reduce natural phenomena to the quantitative descriptions of arithmetic and geometry: “my consideration of matter in corporeal things,” he says in the Principles, “involves absolutely nothing apart from divisions, shapes and motions.” This connects with his metaphysical commitment to relying only on clear and distinct ideas. In place of the elaborate apparatus of the Scholastics, with its plethora of “substantial forms” and “real qualities,” Descartes proposes to mathematicize science. The material world is simply an indefinite series of variations in the shape, size, and motion of the single, simple, homogeneous matter that he terms res extensa “extended substance”. Under this category he includes all physical and biological events, even complex animal behavior, which he regards as simply the result of purely mechanical processes for non-human animals as mechanical automata, see Discourse, Part V. But there is one class of phenomena that cannot, on Descartes’s view, be handled in this way, namely conscious experience. Thought, he frequently asserts, is completely alien to, and incompatible with, extension: it occupies no space, is unextended and indivisible. Hence Descartes puts forward a dualistic theory of substance: in addition to the res extensa that makes up the material universe, there is res cogitans, or thinking substance, which is entirely independent of matter. And each conscious individual is a unique thinking substance: “This ‘I’  that is, the soul, by which I am what I am, is entirely distinct from the body, and would not fail to be what it is even if the body did not exist.” Descartes’s arguments for the incorporeality of the soul were challenged by his contemporaries and have been heavily criticized by subsequent commentators. In the Discourse and the Second Meditation, he lays great stress on his ability to form a conception of himself as an existing subject, while at the same time doubting the existence of any physical thing; but this, as the critics pointed out, seems inadequate to establish the conclusion that he is a res cogitans  a being whose whole essence consists simply in thought. I may be able to imagine myself without a body, but this hardly proves that I could in reality exist without one see further the Synopsis to the Meditations. A further problem is that our everyday experience testifies to the fact that we are not incorporeal beings, but very much creatures of flesh and blood. “Nature teaches me by the sensations of pain, hunger, thirst and so on,” Descartes admits in the Sixth Meditation, “that I am not merely present in my body as a sailor is present in a ship, but that I am very closely Descartes, René Descartes, René 226   226 joined and as it were intermingled with it.” Yet how can an incorporeal soul interact with the body in this way? In his later writings, Descartes speaks of the “union of soul and body” as a “primitive notion” see letters to Elizabeth of May 21 and June 28, 1643; by this he seems to have meant that, just as there are properties such as length that belong to body alone, and properties such as understanding  that belong to mind alone, so there are items such as sensations that are irreducibly psychophysical, and that belong to me insofar as I am an embodied consciousness. The explanation of such psychophysical events was the task Descartes set himself in his last work, The Passions of the Soul; here he developed his theory that the pineal gland in the brain was the “seat of the soul,” where data from the senses were received via the nervous system, and where bodily movements were initiated. But despite the wealth of physiological detail Descartes provides, the central philosophical problems associated with his dualistic account of humans as hybrid entities made up of physical body and immaterial soul are, by common consent, not properly sorted out. Influence. Despite the philosophical difficulties that beset the Cartesian system, Descartes’s vision of a unified understanding of reality has retained a powerful hold on scientists and philosophers ever since. His insistence that the path to progress in science lay in the direction of quantitative explanations has been substantially vindicated. His attempt to construct a system of knowledge by starting from the subjective awareness of the conscious self has been equally important, if only because so much of the epistemology of our own time has been a reaction against the autocentric perspective from which Descartes starts out. As for the Cartesian theory of the mind, it is probably fair to say that the dualistic approach is now widely regarded as raising more problems than it solves. But Descartes’s insistence that the phenomena of conscious experience are recalcitrant to explanation in purely physical terms remains deeply influential, and the cluster of profound problems that he raised about the nature of the human mind and its relation to the material world are still very far from being adequately resolved.  Cartesianism -- Elizabeth of Bohemia 160, G. Princess whose philosophical reputation rests on her correspondence with Descartes. The most heavily discussed portion of this correspondence focuses on the relationship between the mind and the body and on Descartes’s claim that the mind-body union is a simple notion. Her discussions of free will and of the nature of the sovereign good also have philosophical interest. 

Cassirer, E.  philosopher and intellectual historian. He was born in the G. city of Breslau now Wroclaw, Poland and educated at various G. universities. He completed his studies in 9 at Marburg under Hermann Cohen, founder of the Marburg School of neo-Kantianism. Cassirer lectured at the  of Berlin from 6 to 9, then accepted a professorship at the newly founded  of Hamburg. With the rise of Nazism he left G.y in 3, going first to a visiting appointment at All Souls , Oxford 3 35 and then to a professorship at the  of Göteborg, Sweden 541. In 1 he went to the United States; he taught first at Yale 144 and then at Columbia 445. Cassirer’s works may be divided into those in the history of philosophy and culture and those that present his own systematic thought. The former include major editions of Leibniz and Kant; his four-volume study The Problem of Knowledge vols. 13, 620; vol. 4, 0, which traces the subject from Nicholas of Cusa to the twentieth century; and individual works on Descartes, Leibniz, Kant, Rousseau, Goethe, the Renaissance, the Enlightenment, and English Platonism. The latter include his multivolume The Philosophy of Symbolic Forms 329, which presents a philosophy of human culture based on types of symbolism found in myth, language, and mathematical science; and individual works concerned with problems in such fields as logic, psychology, aesthetics, linguistics, and concept formation in the humanities. Two of his best-known works are An Essay on Man 4 and The Myth of the State 6. Cassirer did not consider his systematic philosophy and his historical studies as separate endeavors; each grounded the other. Because of his involvement with the Marburg School, his philosophical position is frequently but mistakenly typed as neo-Kantian. Kant is an important influence on him, but so are Hegel, Herder, Wilhelm von Humboldt, Goethe, Leibniz, and Vico. Cassirer derives his principal philosophical concept, symbolic form, most directly from Heinrich Hertz’s conception of notation in mechanics and the conception of the symbol in art of the Hegelian aesthetician, Friedrich Theodor Vischer. In a wider sense his conception of symbolic form is a transformation of “idea” and “form” within the whole tradition of philosophical idealism. Cassirer’s conception of symbolic form is not based on a distinction between the symbolic and the literal. In his view all human knowledge depends on the power to form experience through some type of symbolism. The forms of human knowledge are coextensive with forms of human culture. Those he most often analyzes are myth and religion, art, language, history, and science. These forms of symbolism constitute a total system of human knowledge and culture that is the subject matter of philosophy. Cassirer’s influence is most evident in the aesthetics of Susanne Langer 55, but his conception of the symbol has entered into theoretical anthropology, psychology, structural linguistics, literary criticism, myth theory, aesthetics, and phenomenology. His studies of the Renaissance and the Enlightenment still stand as groundbreaking works in intellectual history. 

Griceian casuistry, the case-analysis approach to the interpretation of general moral rules. Casuistry starts with paradigm cases of how and when a given general moral rule should be applied, and then reasons by analogy to cases in which the proper application of the rule is less obvious  e.g., a case in which lying is the only way for a priest not to betray a secret revealed in confession. The point of considering the series of cases is to ascertain the morally relevant similarities and differences between cases. Casuistry’s heyday was the first half of the seventeenth century. Reacting against casuistry’s popularity with the Jesuits and against its tendency to qualify general moral rules, Pascal penned a polemic against casuistry from which the term never recovered see his Provincial Letters, 1656. But the kind of reasoning to which the term refers is flourishing in contemporary practical ethics.

categorical theory: H. P. Grice lectured at Oxford on Aristotle’s Categories in joint seminars with J. L. Austin and P. F. Strawson,  a theory all of whose models are isomorphic. Because of its weak expressive power, in first-order logic with identity only theories with a finite model can be categorical; without identity no theories are categorical. A more interesting property, therefore, is being categorical in power: a theory is categorical in power a when the theory has, up to isomorphism, only one model with a domain of cardinality a. Categoricity in power shows the capacity to characterize a structure completely, only limited by cardinality. For example, the first-order theory of dense order without endpoints is categorical in power w the cardinality of the natural numbers. The first-order theory of simple discrete orderings with initial element, the ordering of the natural numbers, is not categorical in power w. There are countable discrete orders, not isomorphic to the natural numbers, that are elementary equivalent to it, i.e., have the same elementary, first-order theory. In first-order logic categorical theories are complete. This is not necessarily true for extensions of first-order logic for which no completeness theorem holds. In such a logic a set of axioms may be categorical without providing an informative characterization of the theory of its unique model. The term ‘elementary equivalence’ was introduced around 6 by Tarski for the property of being indistinguishable by elementary means. According to Oswald Veblen, who first used the term ‘categorical’ in 4, in a discussion of the foundations of geometry, that term was suggested to him by the  pragmatist John Dewey. 

Categoricity: Grice distinguishes a meta-category, as categoricity, from category itself. He gave seminars on Aristotle’s categories at Oxford in joint seminars with J. L. Austin and P. F. Strawson. the semantic property belonging to a set of sentences, a “postulate set,” that implicitly defines completely describes, or characterizes up to isomorphism the structure of its intended interpretation or standard model. The best-known categorical set of sentences is the postulate set for number theory attributed to Peano, which completely characterizes the structure of an arithmetic progression. This structure is exemplified by the system of natural numbers with zero as distinguished element and successor addition of one as distinguished function. Other exemplifications of this structure are obtained by taking as distinguished element an arbitrary integer, taking as distinguished function the process of adding an arbitrary positive or negative integer and taking as universe of discourse or domain the result of repeated application of the distinguished function to the distinguished element. See, e.g., Russell’s Introduction to the Mathematical Philosophy, 8. More precisely, a postulate set is defined to be categorical if every two of its models satisfying interpretations or realizations are isomorphic to each other, where, of course, two interpretations are isomorphic if between their respective universes of discourse there exists a one-to-one correspondence by which the distinguished elements, functions, relations, etc., of the one are mapped exactly onto those of the other. The importance of the analytic geometry of Descartes involves the fact that the system of points of a geometrical line with the “left-of relation” distinguished is isomorphic to the system of real numbers with the “less-than” relation distinguished. Categoricity, the ideal limit of success for the axiomatic method considered as a method for characterizing subject matter rather than for reorganizing a science, is known to be impossible with respect to certain subject matters using certain formal languages. The concept of categoricity can be traced back at least as far as Dedekind; the word is due to Dewey. 

Category: H. P. Grice and J. L. Austin, “Categories.” H. P. Grice and P. F. Strawson, “Categories.” an ultimate class. Categories are the highest genera of entities in the world. They may contain species but are not themselves species of any higher genera. Aristotle, the first philosopher to discuss categories systematically, listed ten, including substance, quality, quantity, relation, place, and time. If a set of categories is complete, then each entity in the world will belong to a category and no entity will belong to more than one category. A prominent example of a set of categories is Descartes’s dualistic classification of mind and matter. This example brings out clearly another feature of categories: an attribute that can belong to entities in one category cannot be an attribute of entities in any other category. Thus, entities in the category of matter have extension and color while no entity in the category of mind can have extension or color. 

category mistake. Grice’s example: You’re the cream in my coffee. Usually a metaphor is a conversational implicatum due to a category mistake – But since obviously the mistake is intentional it is not really a mistake! Grice prefers to speak of ‘categorial falsity.’ What Ryle has in mind is different and he does mean ‘mistake.’ the placing of an entity in the wrong category. In one of Ryle’s examples, to place the activity of exhibiting team spirit in the same class with the activities of pitching, batting, and catching is to make a category mistake; exhibiting team spirit is not a special function like pitching or batting but instead a way those special functions are performed. A second use of ‘category mistake’ is to refer to the attribution to an entity of a property which that entity cannot have not merely does not happen to have, as in ‘This memory is violet’ or, to use an example from Carnap, ‘Caesar is a prime number’. These two kinds of category mistake may seem different, but both involve misunderstandings of the natures of the things being talked about. It is thought that they go beyond simple error or ordinary mistakes, as when one attributes a property to a thing which that thing could have but does not have, since category mistakes involve attributions of properties e.g., being a special function to things e.g., team spirit that those things cannot have. According to Ryle, the test for category differences depends on whether replacement of one expression for another in the same sentence results in a type of unintelligibility that he calls “absurdity.” 

category theory, H. P. Grice lectured on Aristotle’s categories in joint seminars at Oxford with J. L. Austin and P. F. Strawson, a mathematical theory that studies the universal properties of structures via their relationships with one another. A category C consists of two collections Obc and Morc , the objects and the morphisms of C, satisfying the following conditions: i for each pair a, b of objects there is associated a collection Morc a, b of morphisms such that each member of Morc belongs to one of these collections; ii for each object a of Obc , there is a morphism ida , called the identity on a; iii a composition law associating with each morphism f: a P b and each morphism g: b P c a morphism gf:a P c, called the composite of f and g; iv for morphisms f: a P b, g: b P c, and h: c P d, the equation hgf % hgf holds; v for any morphism f: a P b, we have idbf % f and fida % f. Sets with specific structures together with a collection of mappings preserving these structures are categories. Examples: 1 sets with functions between them; 2 groups with group homomorphisms; 3 topological spaces with continuous functions; 4 sets with surjections instead of arbitrary maps constitute a different category. But a category need not be composed of sets and set-theoretical maps. Examples: 5 a collection of propositions linked by the relation of logical entailment is a category and so is any preordered set; 6 a monoid taken as the unique object and its elements as the morphisms is a category. The properties of an object of a category are determined by the morphisms that are coming out of and going in this object. Objects with a universal property occupy a key position. Thus, a terminal object a is characterized by the following universal property: for any object b there is a unique morphism from b to a. A singleton set is a terminal object in the category of sets. The Cartesian product of sets, the product of groups, and the conjunction of propositions are all terminal objects in appropriate categories. Thus category theory unifies concepts and sheds a new light on the notion of universality. 

category of conversational mode: This is Aristotle’s hexis. This category posed a special conceptual problem to Grice. Recall that his categories are invoked only by their power to generate conversational implciata. But a conversational implicatum is non-detachable. That is, being based on universalistic principles of general rationality, it cannot attach to an EXPRESSION, less so to the ‘meaning’ of an EXPRESSION: “if” and “provided” are REALISATIONS of the concept of the conditionality. Now, the conversational supra-maxim, ‘be perspicuous’ [sic], is supposed to apply NOT to the content, or matter, but to the FORM. (Strictly, quantitas and qualitas applies to matter, RELATIO applies to the link between at least two matters). Grice tweaks things in such a way that he is happy, and so am I. This is a pun on Aristkant’s Kategorie (Ammonius, tropos, Boëthius, modus, Kant Modalitat). Gesichtspuncte der Modalität in assertorische, apodiktische und problematische hat sich aus der Aristotelischen Eintheilung hervorgebildet (Anal. Dr. 1, 2): 7@ợc gócois atv n 100 incozy h kỹ kvayxns Úndozav û toù {VJÉZEo fai Úndozev: Doch geht diese Aristotelische Stelle vielmehr auf die analogen objectiven Verhältnisse, als auf den subjectiven Gewissheitsgrad. Der Zusatz Svvatóv, įvsezóuevov, és åviyans, jedoch auch eine adverbiale Bestimmung wie taméws in dem Satze ý σελήνη ταχέως αποκαθίσταται, heisst bei Ammonius τρόπος (zu περί ερμ. Cap. 12) und bei Boëthius modus. Kant (Kritik der r. Vern. § 9-11; Prolegom. $ 21, Log. § 30) gründet die Eintheilung nach der Modalität auf die modalen Kategorien: Möglichkeit und Unmöglichkeit, Dasein und Nichtsein, Nothwendigkeit und Zufälligkeit, wobei jedoch die Zusammenstellung der Unmöglichkeit, die eine negative Nothwendigkeit ist, mit der Möglichkeit, und ebenso der Zufälligkeit, die das nicht als nothwendig erkannte Dasein bezeichnet, mit der Nothwendigkeit eine Ungenauigkeit enthält: die Erkenntniss der Unmöglichkeit ist nicht ein problematisches, sondern ein (negativ-) apodiktisches Urtheil (was Kant in der Anwendung selbst anerkennt, indem er z. B. Krit. der r. V. S. 191 die Formel: es ist unmöglich etc. als Ausdruck einer apodiktischen Gewissheit betrachtet), und die Erkenntniss des Zufälligen ist nicht ein apodiktisches, sondern ein assertorisches Urtheil. Ausserdem aber hat Kant das subjective und objective Element in den Kategorien der Qualität und Modalität nicht bestimmt genug unterschieden.

category of conversational quality: This is Aristotle’s universal, poiotes. This was originally the desideratum of conversational candour. At that point, there was no Kantian scheme of categories in the horizon. Candour Grice arbitrarily contrasts with clarity – and so the desideratum of conversational candour sometimes clashes with the desideratum of conversational clarity. One may not be able to provide a less convoluted utterance (“It is raining”) but use the less clear, but more candid, “It might be raining, for all I know.” A pun on Aristkan’s Kategorie, poiotes, qualitas, Qualitat.  Expressions which are in no way composite signify substance, quantity, quality, relation, place, time, position, state, action, or affection. To sketch my meaning roughly, examples of substance are 'man' or 'the horse', of quantity, such terms as 'two cubits long' or 'three cubits long', of quality, such attributes as 'white', 'grammatical'.

category of conversational quantity: This is Aristotle’s universal, posotes. Grice would often use ‘a fortiori,’ and then it dawned on him. “All I need is a principle of conversational fortitude. This will give the Oxonians the Graeco-Roman pedigree they deserve.’  a pun on Ariskant’s Kategorie, posotes, quantitas, Quantitat. Grice expands this as ‘quantity of information,’ or ‘informative content’ – which then as he recognises overlaps with the category of conversational quality, because ‘false information’ is a misnomer. Expressions which are in no way composite signify substance, quantity, quality, relation, place, time, position, state, action, or affection. To sketch my meaning roughly, examples of substance are 'man' or 'the horse', of quantity, such terms as 'two cubits long' or 'three cubits long'

category of conversational relation: This is Aristotle’s ‘pros ti.’ f there are categories of being, and categories of thought, and categories of expression, surely there is room for the ‘conversational category.’ A pun on Ariskant’s Kategorie (pros ti, ad aliquid, Relation). Surely a move has to relate to the previous move, and should include a tag as to what move will relate. Expressions which are in no way composite signify substance, quantity, quality, relation, place, time, position, state, action, or affection. To sketch my meaning roughly, examples of substance are 'man' or 'the horse', of quantity, such terms as 'two cubits long' or 'three cubits long', of quality, such attributes as 'white', 'grammatical'. 'Double', 'half', 'greater', fall under the category of relation.

causatum: Is the causatum involved in the communicatum. Grice relies on this only in Meaning Revisited, where he presents a transcendental argument for the justification. This is what is referred in the literature as “H. P. Grice’s Triangle.” Borrowing from Aristotle in De Interpretatione, Grice speaks of three corners of the triangle and correspondences obtaining between them. There’s a psychophysical correspondence between the soul of the emissor, the soul of the emissee, and the shared experience of the denotata of the communication device the emissor employs. Then there’s the psychosemiotic correspondence between the communication device and the state of the soul in the emissor that is transferred, in a soul-to-soul transfer to the emissee. And finally, there is a semiophyiscal correspondence between the communication device and the world. When it comes to the causation, the belief that there is fire is caused by there being fire. The emissor wants to transfer his belief, and utters. “Smoke!”. The soul-to-soul transfer is effected. The fire that caused the smoke that caused the belief in the the emissor now causes a belief in the emissee. If that’s not a causal account of communication, I don’t know what it is. Grice is no expressionist in that a solipsistic telementational model is of no use if there is no ‘hookup’ as he puts it with the world that causes this ‘shared experience’ that is improved by the existence of a communication device.  Grice’s idea of ‘cause’ is his ‘bite’ on reality. He chooses ‘Phenomenalism’ as an enemy. Causal realism is at the heart of Grice’s programme. As an Oxonian, he was well aware that to trust a cause is to be anti-Cambridge, where they follow Hume’s and Kant’s scepticism. Grice uses ‘cause’ rather casually. His most serious joke is “Charles I’s decapitation willed his death” – but it is not easy to trace a philosopher who explicitly claim that ‘to cause’ is ‘to will.’ For in God the means and the end preexist in the cause as willed together. Causation figures large in Grice, notably re: the perceptum. The agent perceives that the pillar box is red. The cause is that the pillar box is red. Out of that, Grice constructs a whole theory of conversation. Why would someone just report what a THING SEEMS to him when he has no doubt that it was THE THING that caused the thing to SEEM red to him? Applying some sort of helpfulness, it works: the addressee is obviously more interested in what the thing IS, not what it seems. A sense-datum is not something you can eat. An apple is. So, the assumption is that a report of what a thing IS is more relevant than a report about what a thing SEEMS. So,  Grice needs to find a rationale that justifies, ceteris paribus, the utterance of “The thing seems phi.” Following helpfulness, U utters “The thing seems phi” when the U is not in a position to say what the thing IS phi. The denial, “The thing is not phi” is in the air, and also the doubt, “The thing may not be phi.” Most without a philosophical background who do not take Grice’s joke of echoing Kant’s categories (Kant had 12, not 4!) play with quantitas, qualitas, relatio and modus. Grice in “Causal” uses ‘weak’ and ‘strong’ but grants he won’t ‘determine’ in what way ‘the thing seems phi’ is ‘weaker’ than ‘the thing is phi.’ It might well be argued that it’s STRONGER: the thing SEEEMS TO BE phi.’ In the previous “Introduction to Logical Theory,” Strawson just refers to Grice’s idea of a ‘pragmatic rule’ to the effect that one utter the LOGICALLY stronger proposition. Let’s revise dates. Whereas Grice says that his confidence in the success of “Causal,” he ventured with Strawson’s “Intro,” Strawson is citing Grice already. Admittedly, Strawson adds, “in a different context.” But Grice seems pretty sure that “The thing seems phi” is WEAKER than “The thing is phi.” In 1961 he is VERY CLEAR that while what he may have said to Strawson that Strawson reported in that footnote was in terms of LOGICAL STRENGTH (in terms of entailment, for extensional contexts). In “Causal,” Grice is clear that he does not think LOGICAL STRENGTH applies to intensional contexts. In later revisions, it is not altogether clear how he deals with the ‘doubt or denial.’ He seems to have been more interested in refuting G. A. Paul (qua follower of Witters) than anything else. In his latest reformulation of the principle, now a conversational category, he is not specific about phenomenalist reports.

Causatum. causal law, a statement describing a regular and invariant connection between types of events or states, where the connections involved are causal in some sense. When one speaks of causal laws as distinguished from laws that are not 123 category mistake causal law   123 causal, the intended distinction may vary. Sometimes, a law is said to be causal if it relates events or states occurring at successive times, also called a law of succession: e.g., ‘Ingestion of strychnine leads to death.’ A causal law in this sense contrasts with a law of coexistence, which connects events or states occurring at the same time e.g., the Wiedemann-Franz law relating thermal and electric conductivity in metals. One important kind of causal law is the deterministic law. Causal laws of this kind state exceptionless connections between events, while probabilistic or statistical laws specify probability relationships between events. For any system governed by a set of deterministic laws, given the state of a system at a time, as characterized by a set of state variables, these laws will yield a unique state of the system for any later time or, perhaps, at any time, earlier or later. Probabilistic laws will yield, for a given antecedent state of a system, only a probability value for the occurrence of a certain state at a later time. The laws of classical mechanics are often thought to be paradigmatic examples of causal laws in this sense, whereas the laws of quantum mechanics are claimed to be essentially probabilistic. Causal laws are sometimes taken to be laws that explicitly specify certain events as causes of certain other events. Simple laws of this kind will have the form ‘Events of kind F cause events of kind G’; e.g., ‘Heating causes metals to expand’. A weaker related concept is this: a causal law is one that states a regularity between events which in fact are related as cause to effect, although the statement of the law itself does not say so laws of motion expressed by differential equations are perhaps causal laws in this sense. These senses of ‘causal law’ presuppose a prior concept of causation. Finally, causal laws may be contrasted with teleological laws, laws that supposedly describe how certain systems, in particular biological organisms, behave so as to achieve certain “goals” or “end states.” Such laws are sometimes claimed to embody the idea that a future state that does not as yet exist can exert an influence on the present behavior of a system. Just what form such laws take and exactly how they differ from ordinary laws have not been made wholly clear, however. 

causal theory of proper names, the view that proper names designate what they name by virtue of a kind of causal connection to it. This view is a special case, and in some instances an unwarranted interpretation, of a direct reference view of names. On this approach, proper names, e.g., ‘Machiavelli’, are, as J. S. Mill wrote, “purely denotative. . . . they denote the individuals who are called by them; but they do not indicate or imply any attributes as belonging to those individuals” A System of Logic, 1879. Proper names may suggest certain properties to many competent speakers, but any such associated information is no part of the definition of the name. Names, on this view, have no definitions. What connects a name to what it names is not the latter’s satisfying some condition specified in the name’s definition. Names, instead, are simply attached to things, applied as labels, as it were. A proper name, once attached, becomes a socially available device for making the relevant name bearer a subject of discourse. On the other leading view, the descriptivist view, a proper name is associated with something like a definition. ‘Aristotle’, on this view, applies by definition to whoever satisfies the relevant properties  e.g., is ‘the teacher of Alexander the Great, who wrote the Nicomachean Ethics’. Russell, e.g., maintained that ordinary proper names which he contrasted with logically proper or genuine names have definitions, that they are abbreviated definite descriptions. Frege held that names have sense, a view whose proper interpretation remains in dispute, but is often supposed to be closely related to Russell’s approach. Others, most notably Searle, have defended descendants of the descriptivist view. An important variant, sometimes attributed to Frege, denies that names have articulable definitions, but nevertheless associates them with senses. And the bearer will still be, by definition as it were, the unique thing to satisfy the relevant mode of presentation. causal overdetermination causal theory of proper names 124   124 The direct reference approach is sometimes misleadingly called the causal theory of names. But the key idea need have nothing to do with causation: a proper name functions as a tag or label for its bearer, not as a surrogate for a descriptive expression. Whence the allegedly misleading term ‘causal theory of names’? Contemporary defenders of Mill’s conception like Keith Donnellan and Kripke felt the need to expand upon Mill’s brief remarks. What connects a present use of a name with a referent? Here Donnellan and Kripke introduce the notion of a “historical chains of communication.” As Kripke tells the story, a baby is baptized with a proper name. The name is used, first by those present at the baptism, subsequently by those who pick up the name in conversation, reading, and so on. The name is thus propagated, spread by usage “from link to link as if by a chain” Naming and Necessity, 0. There emerges a historical chain of uses of the name that, according to Donnellan and Kripke, bridges the gap between a present use of the name and the individual so named. This “historical chain of communication” is occasionally referred to as a “casual chain of communication.” The idea is that one’s use of the name can be thought of as a causal factor in one’s listener’s ability to use the name to refer to the same individual. However, although Kripke in Naming and Necessity does occasionally refer to the chain of communication as causal, he more often simply speaks of the chain of communication, or of the fact that the name has been passed “by tradition from link to link” p. 106. The causal aspect is not one that Kripke underscores. In more recent writings on the topic, as well as in lectures, Kripke never mentions causation in this connection, and Donnellan questions whether the chain of communication should be thought of as a causal chain. This is not to suggest that there is no view properly called a “causal theory of names.” There is such a view, but it is not the view of Kripke and Donnellan. The causal theory of names is a view propounded by physicalistically minded philosophers who desire to “reduce” the notion of “reference” to something more physicalistically acceptable, such as the notion of a causal chain running from “baptism” to later use. This is a view whose motivation is explicitly rejected by Kripke, and should be sharply distinguished from the more popular anti-Fregean approach sketched above. 

CAUSATUM: causation, the relation between cause and effect, or the act of bringing about an effect, which may be an event, a state, or an object say, a statue. The concept of causation has long been recognized as one of fundamental philosophical importance. Hume called it “the cement of the universe”: causation is the relation that connects events and objects of this world in significant relationships. The concept of causation seems pervasively present in human discourse. It is expressed by not only ‘cause’ and its cognates but by many other terms, such as ‘produce’, ‘bring about’, ‘issue’, ‘generate’, ‘result’, ‘effect’, ‘determine’, and countless others. Moreover, many common transitive verbs “causatives”, such as ‘kill’, ‘break’, and ‘move’, tacitly contain causal relations e.g., killing involves causing to die. The concept of action, or doing, involves the idea that the agent intentionally causes a change in some object or other; similarly, the concept of perception involves the idea that the object perceived causes in the perceiver an appropriate perceptual experience. The physical concept of force, too, appears to involve causation as an essential ingredient: force is the causal agent of changes in motion. Further, causation is intimately related to explanation: to ask for an explanation of an event is, often, to ask for its cause. It is sometimes thought that our ability to make predictions, and inductive inference in general, depends on our knowledge of causal connections or the assumption that such connections are present: the knowledge that water quenches thirst warrants the predictive inference from ‘X is swallowing water’ to ‘X’s thirst will be quenched’. More generally, the identification and systematic description of causal relations that hold in the natural world have been claimed to be the preeminent aim of science. Finally, causal concepts play a crucial role in moral and legal reasoning, e.g., in the assessment of responsibilities and liabilities. Event causation is the causation of one event by another. A sequence of causally connected events is called a causal chain. Agent causation refers to the act of an agent person, object in bringing about a change; thus, my opening the window i.e., my causing the window to open is an instance of agent causation. There is a controversy as to whether agent causation is reducible to event causation. My opening the window seems reducible to event causation since in reality a certain motion of my arms, an event, causes the window to open. Some philosophers, however, have claimed that not all cases of agent causation are so reducible. Substantival causation is the creation of a genuinely new substance, or object, rather than causing changes in preexisting substances, or merely rearranging them. The possibility of substantival causation, at least in the natural world, has been disputed by some philosophers. Event causation, however, has been the primary focus of philosophical discussion in the modern and contemporary period. The analysis of event causation has been controversial. The following four approaches have been prominent: the regularity analysis, the counterfactual analysis, the manipulation analysis, and the probabilistic analysis. The heart of the regularity or nomological analysis, associated with Hume and J. S. Mill, is the idea that causally connected events must instantiate a general regularity between like kinds of events. More precisely: if c is a cause of e, there must be types or kinds of events, F and G, such that c is of kind F, e is of kind G, and events of kind F are regularly followed by events of kind G. Some take the regularity involved to be merely de facto “constant conjunction” of the two event types involved; a more popular view is that the regularity must hold as a matter of “nomological necessity”  i.e., it must be a “law.” An even stronger view is that the regularity must represent a causal law. A law that does this job of subsuming causally connected events is called a “covering” or “subsumptive” law, and versions of the regularity analysis that call for such laws are often referred to as the “covering-law” or “nomic-subsumptive” model of causality. The regularity analysis appears to give a satisfactory account of some aspects of our causal concepts: for example, causal claims are often tested by re-creating the event or situation claimed to be a cause and then observing whether a similar effect occurs. In other respects, however, the regularity account does not seem to fare so well: e.g., it has difficulty explaining the apparent fact that we can have knowledge of causal relations without knowledge of general laws. It seems possible to know, for instance, that someone’s contraction of the flu was caused by her exposure to a patient with the disease, although we know of no regularity between such exposures and contraction of the disease it may well be that only a very small fraction of persons who have been exposed to flu patients contract the disease. Do I need to know general regularities about itchings and scratchings to know that the itchy sensation on my left elbow caused me to scratch it? Further, not all regularities seem to represent causal connections e.g., Reid’s example of the succession of day and night; two successive symptoms of a disease. Distinguishing causal from non-causal regularities is one of the main problems confronting the regularity theorist. According to the counterfactual analysis, what makes an event a cause of another is the fact that if the cause event had not occurred the effect event would not have. This accords with the idea that cause is a condition that is sine qua non for the occurrence of the effect. The view that a cause is a necessary condition for the effect is based on a similar idea. The precise form of the counterfactual account depends on how counterfactuals are understood e.g., if counterfactuals are explained in terms of laws, the counterfactual analysis may turn into a form of the regularity analysis. The counterfactual approach, too, seems to encounter various difficulties. It is true that on the basis of the fact that if Larry had watered my plants, as he had promised, my plants would not have died, I could claim that Larry’s not watering my plants caused them to die. But it is also true that if George Bush had watered my plants, they would not have died; but does that license the claim that Bush’s not watering my plants caused them to die? Also, there appear to be many cases of dependencies expressed by counterfactuals that, however, are not cases of causal dependence: e.g., if Socrates had not died, Xanthippe would not have become a widow; if I had not raised my hand, I would not have signaled. The question, then, is whether these non-causal counterfactuals can be distinguished from causal counterfactuals without the use of causal concepts. There are also questions about how we could verify counterfactuals  in particular, whether our knowledge of causal counterfactuals is ultimately dependent on knowledge of causal laws and regularities. Some have attempted to explain causation in terms of action, and this is the manipulation analysis: the cause is an event or state that we can produce at will, or otherwise manipulate, to produce a certain other event as an effect. Thus, an event is a cause of another provided that by bringing about the first event we can bring about the second. This account exploits the close connection noted earlier between the concepts of action and cause, and highlights the important role that knowledge of causal connections plays in our control of natural events. However, as an analysis of the concept of cause, it may well have things backward: the concept of action seems to be a richer and more complex concept that presupposes the concept of cause, and an analysis of cause in terms of action could be accused of circularity. The reason we think that someone’s exposure to a flu patient was the cause of her catching the disease, notwithstanding the absence of an appropriate regularity even one of high probability, may be this: exposure to flu patients increases the probability of contracting the disease. Thus, an event, X, may be said to be a probabilistic cause of an event, Y, provided that the probability of the occurrence of Y, given that X has occurred, is greater than the antecedent probability of Y. To meet certain obvious difficulties, this rough definition must be further elaborated e.g., to eliminate the possibility that X and Y are collateral effects of a common cause. There is also the question whether probabilistic causation is to be taken as an analysis of the general concept of causation, or as a special kind of causal relation, or perhaps only as evidence indicating the presence of a causal relationship. Probabilistic causation has of late been receiving increasing attention from philosophers. When an effect is brought about by two independent causes either of which alone would have sufficed, one speaks of causal overdetermination. Thus, a house fire might have been caused by both a short circuit and a simultaneous lightning strike; either event alone would have caused the fire, and the fire, therefore, was causally overdetermined. Whether there are actual instances of overdetermination has been questioned; one could argue that the fire that would have been caused by the short circuit alone would not have been the same fire, and similarly for the fire that would have been caused by the lightning alone. The steady buildup of pressure in a boiler would have caused it to explode but for the fact that a bomb was detonated seconds before, leading to a similar effect. In such a case, one speaks of preemptive, or superseding, cause. We are apt to speak of causes in regard to changes; however, “unchanges,” e.g., this table’s standing here through some period of time, can also have causes: the table continues to stand here because it is supported by a rigid floor. The presence of the floor, therefore, can be called a sustaining cause of the table’s continuing to stand. A cause is usually thought to precede its effect in time; however, some have argued that we must allow for the possibility of a cause that is temporally posterior to its effect  backward causation sometimes called retrocausation. And there is no universal agreement as to whether a cause can be simultaneous with its effect  concurrent causation. Nor is there a general agreement as to whether cause and effect must, as a matter of conceptual necessity, be “contiguous” in time and space, either directly or through a causal chain of contiguous events  contiguous causation. The attempt to “analyze” causation seems to have reached an impasse; the proposals on hand seem so widely divergent that one wonders whether they are all analyses of one and the same concept. But each of them seems to address some important aspect of the variegated notion that we express by the term ‘cause’, and it may be doubted whether there is a unitary concept of causation that can be captured in an enlightening philosophical analysis. On the other hand, the centrality of the concept, both to ordinary practical discourse and to the scientific description of the world, is difficult to deny. This has encouraged some philosophers to view causation as a primitive, one that cannot be further analyzed. There are others who advocate the extreme view causal nihilism that causal concepts play no role whatever in the advanced sciences, such as fundamental physical theories of space-time and matter, and that the very notion of cause is an anthropocentric projection deriving from our confused ideas of action and power. Causatum -- Dretske, Fred b.2,  philosopher best known for his externalistic representational naturalism about experience, belief, perception, and knowledge. Educated at Purdue  and the  of Minnesota, he has taught at the  of Wisconsin 088 and Stanford  898. In Seeing and Knowing 9 Dretske develops an account of non-epistemic seeing, denying that seeing is believing  that for a subject S to see a dog, say, S must apply a concept to it dog, animal, furry. The dog must look some way to S S must visually differentiate the dog, but need not conceptually categorize it. This contrasts with epistemic seeing, where for S to see that a dog is before him, S would have to believe that it is a dog. In Knowledge and the Flow of Information 1, a mind-independent objective sense of ‘information’ is applied to propositional knowledge and belief content. “Information” replaced Dretske’s earlier notion of a “conclusive reason” 1. Knowing that p requires having a true belief caused or causally sustained by an event that carries the information that p. Also, the semantic content of a belief is identified with the most specific digitally encoded piece of information to which it becomes selectively sensitive during a period of learning. In Explaining Behavior 8, Dretske’s account of representation and misrepresentation takes on a teleological flavor. The semantic meaning of a structure is now identified with its indicator function. A structure recruited for a causal role of indicating F’s, and sustained in that causal role by this ability, comes to mean F  thereby providing a causal role for the content of cognitive states, and avoiding epiphenomenalism about semantic content. In Naturalizing the Mind 5, Dretske’s theory of meaning is applied to the problems of consciousness and qualia. He argues that the empirically significant features of conscious experience are exhausted by their functional and hence representational roles of indicating external sensible properties. He rejects the views that consciousness is composed of a higher-order hierarchy of mental states and that qualia are due to intrinsic, non-representational features of the underlying physical systems. Dretske is also known for his contributions on the nature of contrastive statements, laws of nature, causation, and epistemic non-closure, among other topics.  CAUSATUM -- Ducasse, C. J., philosopher of mind and aesthetician. He arrived in the United States in 0, received his Ph.D. from Harvard 2, and taught at the  of Washington 226 and Brown  658. His most important work is Nature, Mind and Death 1. The key to his general theory is a non-Humean view of causation: the relation of causing is triadic, involving i an initial event, ii the set of conditions under which it occurs, and iii a resulting event; the initial event is the cause, the resulting event is the effect. On the basis of this view he constructed a theory of categories  an explication of such concepts as those of substance, property, mind, matter, and body. Among the theses he defended were that minds are substances, that they causally interact with bodies, and that human beings are free despite every event’s having a cause. In A Critical Examination of the Belief in a Life after Death 1, he concluded that “the balance of the evidence so far obtained is on the side of . . . survival.” Like Schopenhauer, whom he admired, Ducasse was receptive to the religious and philosophical writings of the Far East. He wrote with remarkable objectivity on the philosophical problems associated with so-called paranormal phenomena. Ducasse’s epistemological views are developed in Truth, Knowledge and Causation 8. He sets forth a realistic theory of perception he says, about sense-qualities, “Berkeley is right and the realists are wrong” and, of material things, “the realists are right and Berkeley is wrong”. He provides the classical formulation of the “adverbial theory” or sense-qualities, according to which such qualities are not objects of experience or awareness but ways of experiencing or of being aware. One does not perceive a red material object by sensing a red sense-datum; for then perceiving would involve three entities  i the perceiving subject, ii the red sense-datum, and iii the red material object. But one may perceive a red material object by sensing redly; then the only entities involved are i the perceiving subject and ii the material object. Ducasse observes that, analogously, although it may be natural to say “dancing a waltz,” it would be more accurate to speak of “dancing waltzily.” 

causa sui Latin, ‘cause of itself’, an expression applied to God to mean in part that God owes his existence to nothing other than himself. It does not mean that God somehow brought himself into existence. The idea is that the very nature of God logically requires that he exists. What accounts for the existence of a being that is causa sui is its own nature. 

Cavellian implicature --  c. s.,  b.6,  philosopher whose work has explored skepticism and its consequences. He was Walter M. Cabot Professor of Aesthetics and General Value Theory at Harvard from 3 until 7. Central to Cavell’s thought is the view that skepticism is not a theoretical position to be refuted by philosophical theory or dismissed as a mere misuse of ordinary language; it is a reflection of the fundamental limits of human knowledge of the self, of others, and of the external world, limits that must be accepted  in his term “acknowledged”  because the refusal to do so results in illusion and risks tragedy. Cavell’s work defends J. L. Austin from both positivism and deconstructionism Must We Mean What We Say?, 9, and The Pitch of Philosophy, 4, but not because Cavell is an “ordinary language” philosopher. Rather, his defense of Austin has combined with his response to skepticism to make him a philosopher of the ordinary: he explores the conditions of the possibility and limits of ordinary language, ordinary knowledge, ordinary action, and ordinary human relationships. He uses both the resources of ordinary language and the discourse of philosophers, such as Vitters, Heidegger, Thoreau, and Emerson, and of the arts. Cavell has explored the ineliminability of skepticism in Must We Mean What We Say?, notably in its essay on King Lear, and has developed his analysis in his 9 magnum opus, The Claim of Reason. He has examined the benefits of acknowledging the limits of human self-understanding, and the costs of refusing to do so, in a broad range of contexts from film The World Viewed, 1; Pursuits of Happiness, 1; and Contesting Tears, 6 to  philosophy The Senses of Walden, 2; and the chapters on Emerson in This New Yet Unapproachable America, 9, and Conditions Handsome and Unhandsome, 0. A central argument in The Claim of Reason develops Cavell’s approach by looking at Vitters’s notion of criteria. Criteria are not rules for the use of our words that can guarantee the correctness of the claims we make by them; rather, criteria bring out what we claim by using the words we do. More generally, in making claims to knowledge, undertaking actions, and forming interpersonal relationships, we always risk failure, but it is also precisely in that room for risk that we find the possibility of freedom. This argument is indebted not only to Vitters but also to Kant, especially in the Critique of Judgment. Cavell has used his view as a key to understanding classics of the theater and film. Regarding such tragic figures as Lear, he argues that their tragedies result from their refusal to accept the limits of human knowledge and human love, and their insistence on an illusory absolute and pure love. The World Viewed argues for a realistic approach to film, meaning that we should acknowledge that our cognitive and emotional responses to films are responses to the realities of the human condition portrayed in them. This “ontology of film” prepared the way for Cavell’s treatment of the genre of comedies of remarriage in Pursuits of Happiness. It also grounds his treatment of melodrama in Contesting Tears, which argues that human beings must remain tragically unknown to each other if the limits to our knowledge of each other are not acknowledged. In The Claim of Reason and later works Cavell has also contributed to moral philosophy by his defense  against Rawls’s critique of “moral perfectionism”  of “Emersonian perfectionism”: the view that no general principles of conduct, no matter how well established, can ever be employed in practice without the ongoing but never completed perfection of knowledge of oneself and of the others on and with whom one acts. Cavell’s Emersonian perfectionism is thus another application of his Vittersian and Kantian recognition that rules must always be supplemented by the capacity for judgment. 

Cavendish, Margaret, Duchess of Newcastle, English author of some dozen works in a variety of forms. Her central philosophical interest was the developments in natural science of her day. Her earliest works endorsed a kind of atomism, but her settled view, in Philosophical Letters 1664, Observations upon Experimental Philosophy 1666, and Grounds of Natural Philosophy 1668, was a kind of organic materialism. Cavendish argues for a hierarchy of increasingly fine matter, capable of self-motion. Philosophical Letters, among other matters, raises problems for the notion of inert matter found in Descartes, and Observations upon Experimental Philosophy criticizes microscopists such as Hooke for committing a double error, first of preferring the distortions introduced by instruments to unaided vision and second of preferring sense to reason. 

Celsus anti-Christian writer known only as the author of a work called The True Doctrine Alethes Logos, which is quoted extensively by Origen of Alexandria in his response, Against Celsus written in the late 240s. The True Doctrine is mainly important because it is the first anti-Christian polemic of which we have significant knowledge. Origen considers Celsus to be an Epicurean, but he is uncertain about this. There are no traces of Epicureanism in Origen’s quotations from Celsus, which indicate instead that he is an eclectic Middle Platonist of no great originality, a polytheist whose conception of the “unnameable” first deity transcending being and knowable only by “synthesis, analysis, or analogy” is based on Plato’s description of the Good in Republic VI. In accordance with the Timaeus, Celsus believes that God created “immortal things” and turned the creation of “mortal things” over to them. According to him, the universe has a providential organization in which humans hold no special place, and its history is one of eternally repeating sequences of events separated by catastrophes.

certum: To be certain is to have dis-cerned. Oddly, Grice ‘evolved’ from an interest in the certainty and incorrigibility that ‘ordinary’ and the first-person gives to situations of ‘conversational improbability’ and indeterminate implicata under conditions of ceteris paribus risk and uncertainty in survival. “To be certain that p” is for Grice one of those ‘diaphanous’ verbs. While it is best to improve Descartes’s fuzzy lexicon – and apply ‘certus’ to the emissor, if Grice is asked, “What are you certain of?,” “I have to answer, ‘p’”.  certum: certitude, from ecclesiastical medieval Roman “certitudo,” designating in particular Christian conviction, is heir to two meanings of “certum,” one objective and the other subjective: beyond doubt, fixed, positive, real, regarding a thing or knowledge, or firm in his resolutions, decided, sure, authentic, regarding an individual. Although certitudo has no Grecian equivalent, the Roman verb “cernere,” (cf. discern), from which “certum” is derived, has the concrete meaning of pass through a sieve, discern, like the Grecian “ϰρίνειν,” select, sieve, judge, which comes from the same root. Thus begins the relationship between certitude, judgment, and truth, which since Descartes has been connected with the problematics of the subject and of self-certainty. The whole terminological system of truth is thus involved, from unveiling and adequation to certitude and obviousness. Then there’s Certainty, Objectivity, Subjectivity, and Linguistic Systems  The objective aspect manifests itself first, “certitudo” translating e. g.  the determined nature of objects or known properties as the commentaries on Aristotle’s Met. translated into Roman, or the incontestably true nature of principles. With the revolution of the subject inaugurated by Cartesian Phil. , the second aspect comes to the fore: some reasons, ideas, or propositions are true and certain, or true and evident, but the most certain and the most evident of all, and thus in a sense the truest, is the certitude of my own existence, a certainty that the subject attributes to itself: The thematics of certainty precedes that of consciousness both historically and logically, but it ends up being incorporated and subordinated by it. Certainty thus becomes a quality or disposition of the subject that reproduces, in the field of rational knowledge, the security or assurance that the believer finds in religious faith, and that shields him from the wavering of the soul. It will be noted that Fr.  retains the possibility of reversing the perspective by exploiting the Roman etymology, as Descartes does in the Principles of Phil.  when he transforms the certitudo probabilis of the Scholastics Aquinas into moral certainty. On the other hand, Eng. tends to objectify “certainty” to the maximum in opposition to belief v. BELIEF, whereas G.  hears in “Gewissheit” the root “wissen,” to know, to have learned and situates it in a series with Bewusstsein and Gewissen, clearly marking the constitutive relationship to the subject in opposition to Glaube on the one hand, and to Wahrheit and Wahrscheinlichkeit lit., appearance of truth, i.e., probability on the other. Then there’s Knots of Problems  On the relations between certainty and belief, the modalities of subjective experience. On the relation between individual certainty and the wise man’s constancy. On the relations between certainty and truth, the confrontation between subjectivity and objectivity in the development of knowledge. On the relations between certainty and probability, the modalities of objective knowledge insofar as it is related to a subject’s experience.  uncertainty. This is Grice’s principle of 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. Certum -- Certainty: cf. H. P. Grice, “Intention and uncertainty.” the property of being certain, which is either a psychological property of persons or an epistemic feature of proposition-like objects e.g., beliefs, utterances, statements. We can say that a person, S, is psychologically certain that p where ‘p’ stands for a proposition provided S has no doubt whatsoever that p is true. Thus, a person can be certain regardless of the degree of epistemic warrant for a proposition. In general, philosophers have not found this an interesting property to explore. The exception is Peter Unger, who argued for skepticism, claiming that 1 psychological certainty is required for knowledge and 2 no person is ever certain of anything or hardly anything. As applied to propositions, ‘certain’ has no univocal use. For example, some authors e.g., Chisholm may hold that a proposition is epistemically certain provided no proposition is more warranted than it. Given that account, it is possible that a proposition is certain, yet there are legitimate reasons for doubting it just as long as there are equally good grounds for doubting every equally warranted proposition. Other philosophers have adopted a Cartesian account of certainty in which a proposition is epistemically certain provided it is warranted and there are no legitimate grounds whatsoever for doubting it. Both Chisholm’s and the Cartesian characterizations of epistemic certainty can be employed to provide a basis for skepticism. If knowledge entails certainty, then it can be argued that very little, if anything, is known. For, the argument continues, only tautologies or propositions like ‘I exist’ or ‘I have beliefs’ are such that either nothing is more warranted or there are absolutely no grounds for doubt. Thus, hardly anything is known. Most philosophers have responded either by denying that ‘certainty’ is an absolute term, i.e., admitting of no degrees, or by denying that knowledge requires certainty Dewey, Chisholm, Vitters, and Lehrer. Others have agreed that knowledge does entail absolute certainty, but have argued that absolute certainty is possible e.g., Moore. Sometimes ‘certain’ is modified by other expressions, as in ‘morally certain’ or ‘metaphysically certain’ or ‘logically certain’. Once again, there is no universally accepted account of these terms. Typically, however, they are used to indicate degrees of warrant for a proposition, and often that degree of warrant is taken to be a function of the type of proposition under consideration. For example, the proposition that smoking causes cancer is morally certain provided its warrant is sufficient to justify acting as though it were true. The evidence for such a proposition may, of necessity, depend upon recognizing particular features of the world. On the other hand, in order for a proposition, say that every event has a cause, to be metaphysically certain, the evidence for it must not depend upon recognizing particular features of the world but rather upon recognizing what must be true in order for our world to be the kind of world it is  i.e., one having causal connections. Finally, a proposition, say that every effect has a cause, may be logically certain if it is derivable from “truths of logic” that do not depend in any way upon recognizing anything about our world. Since other taxonomies for these terms are employed by philosophers, it is crucial to examine the use of the terms in their contexts.  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

character, mid-14c., carecter, "symbol marked or branded on the body;" mid-15c., "symbol or drawing used in sorcery;" late 15c., "alphabetic letter, graphic symbol standing for a sound or syllable;" from Old French caratere "feature, character" (13c., Modern French caractère), from Latin character, from Greek kharaktēr "engraved mark," also "symbol or imprint on the soul," properly "instrument for marking," from kharassein "to engrave," from kharax "pointed stake," a word of uncertain etymology which Beekes considers "most probably Pre-Greek."  The Latin ch- spelling was restored from 1500s.  The meaning of Greek kharaktēr was extended in Hellenistic times by metaphor to "a defining quality, individual feature." In English, the meaning "sum of qualities that define a person or thing and distinguish it from another" is from 1640s. That of "moral qualities assigned to a person by repute" is from 1712.  You remember Eponina, who kept her husband alive in an underground cavern so devotedly and heroically? The force of character she showed in keeping up his spirits would have been used to hide a lover from her husband if they had been living quietly in Rome. Strong characters need strong nourishment. [Stendhal "de l'Amour," 1822]  Sense of "person in a play or novel" is first attested 1660s, in reference to the "defining qualities" he or she is given by the author. Meaning "a person" in the abstract is from 1749; especially "eccentric person" (1773). Colloquial sense of "chap, fellow" is from 1931. Character-actor, one who specializes in characters with marked peculiarities, is attested from 1861; character-assassination is from 1888; character-building (n.) from 1886. -- the comprehensive set of ethical and intellectual dispositions of a person. Intellectual virtues  like carefulness in the evaluation of evidence  promote, for one, the practice of seeking truth. Moral or ethical virtues  including traits like courage and generosity  dispose persons not only to choices and actions but also to attitudes and emotions. Such dispositions are generally considered relatively stable and responsive to reasons. Appraisal of character transcends direct evaluation of particular actions in favor of examination of some set of virtues or the admirable human life as a whole. On some views this admirable life grounds the goodness of particular actions. This suggests seeking guidance from role models, and their practices, rather than relying exclusively on rules. Role models will, at times, simply perceive the salient features of a situation and act accordingly. Being guided by role models requires some recognition of just who should be a role model. One may act out of character, since dispositions do not automatically produce particular actions in specific cases. One may also have a conflicted character if the virtues one’s character comprises contain internal tensions between, say, tendencies to impartiality and to friendship. The importance of formative education to the building of character introduces some good fortune into the acquisition of character. One can have a good character with a disagreeable personality or have a fine personality with a bad character because personality is not typically a normative notion, whereas character is. 

Charron: p., H. P. Grice, “Do not multiply truths beyond necessity.” theologian who became the principal expositor of Montaigne’s ideas, presenting them in didactic form. His first work, The Three Truths 1595, presented a negative argument for Catholicism by offering a skeptical challenge to atheism, nonChristian religions, and Calvinism. He argued that we cannot know or understand God because of His infinitude and the weakness of our faculties. We can have no good reasons for rejecting Christianity or Catholicism. Therefore, we should accept it on faith alone. His second work, On Wisdom 1603, is a systematic presentation of Pyrrhonian skepticism coupled with a fideistic defense of Catholicism. The skepticism of Montaigne and the Grecian skeptics is used to show that we cannot know anything unless God reveals it to us. This is followed by offering an ethics to live by, an undogmatic version of Stoicism. This is the first modern presentation of a morality apart from any religious considerations. Charron’s On Wisdom was extremely popular in France and England. It was read and used by many philosophers and theologians during the seventeenth century. Some claimed that his skepticism opened his defense of Catholicism to question, and suggested that he was insincere in his fideism. He was defended by important figures in the  Catholic church. 

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

choice, v. rational choice. choice sequence, a variety of infinite sequence introduced by L. E. J. Brouwer to express the non-classical properties of the continuum the set of real numbers within intuitionism. A choice sequence is determined by a finite initial segment together with a “rule” for continuing the sequence. The rule, however, may allow some freedom in choosing each subsequent element. Thus the sequence might start with the rational numbers 0 and then ½, and the rule might require the n ! 1st element to be some rational number within ½n of the nth choice, without any further restriction. The sequence of rationals thus generated must converge to a real number, r. But r’s definition leaves open its exact location in the continuum. Speaking intuitionistically, r violates the classical law of trichotomy: given any pair of real numbers e.g., r and ½, the first is either less than, equal to, or greater than the second. From the 0s Brouwer got this non-classical effect without appealing to the apparently nonmathematical notion of free choice. Instead he used sequences generated by the activity of an idealized mathematician the creating subject, together with propositions that he took to be undecided. Given such a proposition, P  e.g. Fermat’s last theorem that for n  2 there is no general method of finding triplets of numbers with the property that the sum of each of the first two raised to the nth power is equal to the result of raising the third to the nth power or Goldbach’s conjecture that every even number is the sum of two prime numbers  we can modify the definition of r: The n ! 1st element is ½ if at the nth stage of research P remains undecided. That element and all its successors are ½ ! ½n if by that stage P is proved; they are ½ † ½n if P is refuted. Since he held that there is an endless supply of such propositions, Brouwer believed that we can always use this method to refute classical laws. In the early 0s Stephen Kleene and Richard Vesley reproduced some main parts of Brouwer’s theory of the continuum in a formal system based on Kleene’s earlier recursion-theoretic interpretation of intuitionism and of choice sequences. At about the same time  but in a different and occasionally incompatible vein  Saul Kripke formally captured the power of Brouwer’s counterexamples without recourse to recursive functions and without invoking either the creating subject or the notion of free choice. Subsequently Georg Kreisel, A. N. Troelstra, Dirk Van Dalen, and others produced formal systems that analyze Brouwer’s basic assumptions about open-futured objects like choice sequences. 

Church’s thesis, the thesis, proposed by Alonzo Church at a meeting of the  Mathematical Society in April 5, “that the notion of an effectively calculable function of positive integers should be identified with that of a recursive function. . . .” This proposal has been called Church’s thesis ever since Kleene used that name in his Introduction to Metamathematics 2. The informal notion of an effectively calculable function effective procedure, or algorithm had been used in mathematics and logic to indicate that a class of problems is solvable in a “mechanical fashion” by following fixed elementary rules. Underlying epistemological concerns came to the fore when modern logic moved in the late nineteenth century from axiomatic to formal presentations of theories. Hilbert suggested in 4 that such formally presented theories be taken as objects of mathematical study, and metamathematics has been pursued vigorously and systematically since the 0s. In its pursuit, concrete issues arose that required for their resolution a delimitation of the class of effective procedures. Hilbert’s important Entscheidungsproblem, the decision problem for predicate logic, was one such issue. It was solved negatively by Church and Turing  relative to the precise notion of recursiveness; the result was obtained independently by Church and Turing, but is usually called Church’s theorem. A second significant issue was the general formulation of the incompleteness theorems as applying to all formal theories satisfying the usual representability and derivability conditions, not just to specific formal systems like that of Principia Mathematica. According to Kleene, Church proposed in 3 the identification of effective calculability with l-definability. That proposal was not published at the time, but in 4 Church mentioned it in conversation to Gödel, who judged it to be “thoroughly unsatisfactory.” In his Princeton Lectures of 4, Gödel defined the concept of a recursive function, but he was not convinced that all effectively calculable functions would fall under it. The proof of the equivalence between l-definability and recursiveness by Church and Kleene led to Church’s first published formulation of the thesis as quoted above. The thesis was reiterated in Church’s “An Unsolvable Problem of Elementary Number Theory” 6. Turing introduced, in “On Computable Numbers, with an Application to the Entscheidungsproblem” 6, a notion of computability by machines and maintained that it captures effective calculability exactly. Post’s paper “Finite Combinatory Processes, Formulation 1” 6 contains a model of computation that is strikingly similar to Turing’s. However, Post did not provide any analysis; he suggested considering the identification of effective calculability with his concept as a working hypothesis that should be verified by investigating ever wider formulations and reducing them to his basic formulation. The classic papers of Gödel, Church, Turing, Post, and Kleene are all reprinted in Davis, ed., The Undecidable, 5. In his 6 paper Church gave one central reason for the proposed identification, namely that other plausible explications of the informal notion lead to mathematical concepts weaker than or equivalent to recursiveness. Two paradigmatic explications, calculability of a function via algorithms or in a logic, were considered by Church. In either case, the steps taken in determining function values have to be effective; and if the effectiveness of steps is, as Church put it, interpreted to mean recursiveness, then the function is recursive. The fundamental interpretative difficulty in Church’s “step-by-step argument” which was turned into one of the “recursiveness conditions” Hilbert and Bernays used in their 9 characterization of functions that can be evaluated according to rules was bypassed by Turing. Analyzing human mechanical computations, Turing was led to finiteness conditions that are motivated by the human computer’s sensory limitations, but are ultimately based on memory limitations. Then he showed that any function calculable by a human computer satisfying these conditions is also computable by one of his machines. Both Church and Gödel found Turing’s analysis convincing; indeed, Church wrote in a 7 review of Turing’s paper that Turing’s notion makes “the identification with effectiveness in the ordinary not explicitly defined sense evident immediately.” This reflective work of partly philosophical and partly mathematical character provides one of the fundamental notions in mathematical logic. Indeed, its proper understanding is crucial for judging the philosophical significance of central metamathematical results  like Gödel’s incompleteness theorems or Church’s theorem. The work is also crucial for computer science, artificial intelligence, and cognitive psychology, providing in these fields a basic theoretical notion. For example, Church’s thesis is the cornerstone for Newell and Simon’s delimitation of the class of physical symbol systems, i.e. universal machines with a particular architecture; see Newell’s Physical Symbol Systems 0. Newell views the delimitation “as the most fundamental contribution of artificial intelligence and computer science to the joint enterprise of cognitive science.” In a turn that had been taken by Turing in “Intelligent Machinery” 8 and “Computing Machinery and Intelligence” 0, Newell points out the basic role physical symbol systems take on in the study of the human mind: “the hypothesis is that humans are instances of physical symbol systems, and, by virtue of this, mind enters into the physical universe. . . . this hypothesis sets the terms on which we search for a scientific theory of mind.” 

Ciceronian implicature: Marcus Tullius, Roman statesman, orator, essayist, and letter writer. He was important not so much for formulating individual philosophical arguments as for expositions of the doctrines of the major schools of Hellenistic philosophy, and for, as he put it, “teaching philosophy to speak Latin.” The significance of the latter can hardly be overestimated. Cicero’s coinages helped shape the philosophical vocabulary of the Latin-speaking West well into the early modern period. The most characteristic feature of Cicero’s thought is his attempt to unify philosophy and rhetoric. His first major trilogy, On the Orator, On the Republic, and On the Laws, presents a vision of wise statesmen-philosophers whose greatest achievement is guiding political affairs through rhetorical persuasion rather than violence. Philosophy, Cicero argues, needs rhetoric to effect its most important practical goals, while rhetoric is useless without the psychological, moral, and logical justification provided by philosophy. This combination of eloquence and philosophy constitutes what he calls humanitas  a coinage whose enduring influence is attested in later revivals of humanism  and it alone provides the foundation for constitutional governments; it is acquired, moreover, only through broad training in those subjects worthy of free citizens artes liberales. In philosophy of education, this Ciceronian conception of a humane education encompassing poetry, rhetoric, history, morals, and politics endured as an ideal, especially for those convinced that instruction in the liberal disciplines is essential for citizens if their rational autonomy is to be expressed in ways that are culturally and politically beneficial. A major aim of Cicero’s earlier works is to appropriate for Roman high culture one of Greece’s most distinctive products, philosophical theory, and to demonstrate Roman superiority. He thus insists that Rome’s laws and political institutions successfully embody the best in Grecian political theory, whereas the Grecians themselves were inadequate to the crucial task of putting their theories into practice. Taking over the Stoic conception of the universe as a rational whole, governed by divine reason, he argues that human societies must be grounded in natural law. For Cicero, nature’s law possesses the characteristics of a legal code; in particular, it is formulable in a comparatively extended set of rules against which existing societal institutions can be measured. Indeed, since they so closely mirror the requirements of nature, Roman laws and institutions furnish a nearly perfect paradigm for human societies. Cicero’s overall theory, if not its particular details, established a lasting framework for anti-positivist theories of law and morality, including those of Aquinas, Grotius, Suárez, and Locke. The final two years of his life saw the creation of a series of dialogue-treatises that provide an encyclopedic survey of Hellenistic philosophy. Cicero himself follows the moderate fallibilism of Philo of Larissa and the New Academy. Holding that philosophy is a method and not a set of dogmas, he endorses an attitude of systematic doubt. However, unlike Cartesian doubt, Cicero’s does not extend to the real world behind phenomena, since he does not envision the possibility of strict phenomenalism. Nor does he believe that systematic doubt leads to radical skepticism about knowledge. Although no infallible criterion for distinguishing true from false impressions is available, some impressions, he argues, are more “persuasive” probabile and can be relied on to guide action. In Academics he offers detailed accounts of Hellenistic epistemological debates, steering a middle course between dogmatism and radical skepticism. A similar strategy governs the rest of his later writings. Cicero presents the views of the major schools, submits them to criticism, and tentatively supports any positions he finds “persuasive.” Three connected works, On Divination, On Fate, and On the Nature of the Gods, survey Epicurean, Stoic, and Academic arguments about theology and natural philosophy. Much of the treatment of religious thought and practice is cool, witty, and skeptically detached  much in the manner of eighteenth-century philosophes who, along with Hume, found much in Cicero to emulate. However, he concedes that Stoic arguments for providence are “persuasive.” So too in ethics, he criticizes Epicurean, Stoic, and Peripatetic doctrines in On Ends 45 and their views on death, pain, irrational emotions, and happiChurch-Turing thesis Cicero, Marcus Tullius 143   143 ness in Tusculan Disputations 45. Yet, a final work, On Duties, offers a practical ethical system based on Stoic principles. Although sometimes dismissed as the eclecticism of an amateur, Cicero’s method of selectively choosing from what had become authoritative professional systems often displays considerable reflectiveness and originality. 

Circulus – Grice’s circle -- Grice’s circle -- circular reasoning, reasoning that, when traced backward from its conclusion, returns to that starting point, as one returns to a starting point when tracing a circle. The discussion of this topic by Richard Whatley in his Logic sets a high standard of clarity and penetration. Logic textbooks often quote the following example from Whatley: To allow every man an unbounded freedom of speech must always be, on the whole, advantageous to the State; for it is highly conducive to the interests of the Community, that each individual should enjoy a liberty perfectly unlimited, of expressing his sentiments. This passage illustrates how circular reasoning is less obvious in a language, such as English, that, in Whatley’s words, is “abounding in synonymous expressions, which have no resemblance in sound, and no connection in etymology.” The premise and conclusion do not consist of just the same words in the same order, nor can logical or grammatical principles transform one into the other. Rather, they have the same propositional content: they say the same thing in different words. That is why appealing to one of them to provide reason for believing the other amounts to giving something as a reason for itself. Circular reasoning is often said to beg the question. ‘Begging the question’ and petitio principii are translations of a phrase in Aristotle connected with a game of formal disputation played in antiquity but not in recent times. The meanings of ‘question’ and ‘begging’ do not in any clear way determine the meaning of ‘question begging’. There is no simple argument form that all and only circular arguments have. It is not logic, in Whatley’s example above, that determines the identity of content between the premise and the conclusion. Some theorists propose rather more complicated formal or syntactic accounts of circularity. Others believe that any account of circular reasoning must refer to the beliefs of those who reason. Whether or not the following argument about articles in this dictionary is circular depends on why the first premise should be accepted: 1 The article on inference contains no split infinitives. 2 The other articles contain no split infinitives. Therefore, 3 No article contains split infinitives. Consider two cases. Case I: Although 2 supports 1 inductively, both 1 and 2 have solid outside support independent of any prior acceptance of 3. This reasoning is not circular. Case II: Someone who advances the argument accepts 1 or 2 or both, only because he believes 3. Such reasoning is circular, even though neither premise expresses just the same proposition as the conclusion. The question remains controversial whether, in explaining circularity, we should refer to the beliefs of individual reasoners or only to the surrounding circumstances. One purpose of reasoning is to increase the degree of reasonable confidence that one has in the truth of a conclusion. Presuming the truth of a conclusion in support of a premise thwarts this purpose, because the initial degree of reasonable confidence in the premise cannot then exceed the initial degree of reasonable confidence in the conclusion. Circulus -- diallelon from ancient Grecian di allelon, ‘through one another’, a circular definition. A definition is circular provided either the definiendum occurs in the definiens, as in ‘Law is a lawful command’, or a first term is defined by means of a second term, which in turn is defined by the first term, as in ‘Law is the expressed wish of a ruler, and a ruler is one who establishes laws.’ A diallelus is a circular argument: an attempt to establish a conclusion by a premise that cannot be known unless the conclusion is known in the first place. Descartes, e.g., argued: I clearly and distinctly perceive that God exists, and what I clearly and distinctly perceive is true. Therefore, God exists. To justify the premise that clear and distinct perceptions are true, however, he appealed to his knowledge of God’s existence.

civil disobedience: explored by H. P. Grice in his analysis of moral vs. legal right -- a deliberate violation of the law, committed in order to draw attention to or rectify perceived injustices in the law or policies of a state. Illustrative questions raised by the topic include: how are such acts justified, how should the legal system respond to such acts when justified, and must such acts be done publicly, nonviolently, and/or with a willingness to accept attendant legal sanctions? 

Clarke, Samuel. Grice analyses Clark’s proof of the existence of God in “Aspects of reasoning” -- English philosopher, preacher, and theologian. Born in Norwich, he was educated at Cambridge, where he came under the influence of Newton. Upon graduation Clarke entered the established church, serving for a time as chaplain to Queen Anne. He spent the last twenty years of his life as rector of St. James, Westminster. Clarke wrote extensively on controversial theological and philosophical issues  the nature of space and time, proofs of the existence of God, the doctrine of the Trinity, the incorporeality and natural immortality of the soul, freedom of the will, the nature of morality, etc. His most philosophical works are his Boyle lectures of 1704 and 1705, in which he developed a forceful version of the cosmological argument for the existence and nature of God and attacked the views of Hobbes, Spinoza, and some proponents of deism; his correspondence with Leibniz 171516, in which he defended Newton’s views of space and time and charged Leibniz with holding views inconsistent with free will; and his writings against Anthony Collins, in which he defended a libertarian view of the agent as the undetermined cause of free actions and attacked Collins’s arguments for a materialistic view of the mind. In these works Clarke maintains a position of extreme rationalism, contending that the existence and nature of God can be conclusively demonstrated, that the basic principles of morality are necessarily true and immediately knowable, and that the existence of a future state of rewards and punishments is assured by our knowledge that God will reward the morally just and punish the morally wicked. 

Class: the class for those philosophers whose class have no members -- a term sometimes used as a synonym for ‘set’. When the two are distinguished, a class is understood as a collection in the logical sense, i.e., as the extension of a concept e.g. the class of red objects. By contrast, sets, i.e., collections in the mathematical sense, are understood as occurring in stages, where each stage consists of the sets that can be formed from the non-sets and the sets already formed at previous stages. When a set is formed at a given stage, only the non-sets and the previously formed sets are even candidates for membership, but absolutely anything can gain membership in a class simply by falling under the appropriate concept. Thus, it is classes, not sets, that figure in the inconsistent principle of unlimited comprehension. In set theory, proper classes are collections of sets that are never formed at any stage, e.g., the class of all sets since new sets are formed at each stage, there is no stage at which all sets are available to be collected into a set. 

classical republicanism: Grice was a British subject and found classical republicanism false -- also known as civic humanism, a political outlook developed by Machiavelli in Renaissance Italy and by James Harrington in England, modified by eighteenth-century British and Continental writers and important for the thought of the  founding fathers. Drawing on Roman historians, Machiavelli argued that a state could hope for security from the blows of fortune only if its male citizens were devoted to its well-being. They should take turns ruling and being ruled, be always prepared to fight for the republic, and limit their private possessions. Such men would possess a wholly secular virtù appropriate to political beings. Corruption, in the form of excessive attachment to private interest, would then be the most serious threat to the republic. Harrington’s utopian Oceana 1656 portrayed England governed under such a system. Opposing the authoritarian views of Hobbes, it described a system in which the well-to-do male citizens would elect some of their number to govern for limited terms. Those governing would propose state policies; the others would vote on the acceptability of the proposals. Agriculture was the basis of economics, civil rights classical republicanism 145   145 but the size of estates was to be strictly controlled. Harringtonianism helped form the views of the political party opposing the dominance of the king and court. Montesquieu in France drew on classical sources in discussing the importance of civic virtue and devotion to the republic. All these views were well known to Jefferson, Adams, and other  colonial and revolutionary thinkers; and some contemporary communitarian critics of  culture return to classical republican ideas. 

Clement, formative teacher in the early Christian church who, as a “Christian gnostic,” combined enthusiasm for Grecian philosophy with a defense of the church’s faith. He espoused spiritual and intellectual ascent toward that complete but hidden knowledge or gnosis reserved for the truly enlightened. Clement’s school did not practice strict fidelity to the authorities, and possibly the teachings, of the institutional church, drawing upon the Hellenistic traditions of Alexandria, including Philo and Middle Platonism. As with the law among the Jews, so, for Clement, philosophy among the pagans was a pedagogical preparation for Christ, in whom logos, reason, had become enfleshed. Philosophers now should rise above their inferior understanding to the perfect knowledge revealed in Christ. Though hostile to gnosticism and its speculations, Clement was thoroughly Hellenized in outlook and sometimes guilty of Docetism, not least in his reluctance to concede the utter humanness of Jesus.

Clifford, W. K., -- H. P. Grice was attracted to Clifford’s idea of the ‘ethics of belief,’ -- philosopher. Educated at King’s , London, and Trinity , Cambridge, he began giving public lectures in 1868, when he was appointed a fellow of Trinity, and in 1870 became professor of applied mathematics at  , London. His academic career ended prematurely when he died of tuberculosis. Clifford is best known for his rigorous view on the relation between belief and evidence, which, in “The Ethics of Belief,” he summarized thus: “It is wrong always, everywhere, and for anyone, to believe anything on insufficient evidence.” He gives this example. Imagine a shipowner who sends to sea an emigrant ship, although the evidence raises strong suspicions as to the vessel’s seaworthiness. Ignoring this evidence, he convinces himself that the ship’s condition is good enough and, after it sinks and all the passengers die, collects his insurance money without a trace of guilt. Clifford maintains that the owner had no right to believe in the soundness of the ship. “He had acquired his belief not by honestly earning it in patient investigation, but by stifling his doubts.” The right Clifford is alluding to is moral, for what one believes is not a private but a public affair and may have grave consequences for others. He regards us as morally obliged to investigate the evidence thoroughly on any occasion, and to withhold belief if evidential support is lacking. This obligation must be fulfilled however trivial and insignificant a belief may seem, for a violation of it may “leave its stamp upon our character forever.” Clifford thus rejected Catholicism, to which he had subscribed originally, and became an agnostic. James’s famous essay “The Will to Believe” criticizes Clifford’s view. According to James, insufficient evidence need not stand in the way of religious belief, for we have a right to hold beliefs that go beyond the evidence provided they serve the pursuit of a legitimate goal. 

Griceian anti-sneak closure. A set of objects, O, is said to exhibit closure or to be closed under a given operation, R, provided that for every object, x, if x is a member of O and x is R-related to any object, y, then y is a member of O. For example, the set of propositions is closed under deduction, for if p is a proposition and p entails q, i.e., q is deducible from p, then q is a proposition simply because only propositions can be entailed by propositions. In addition, many subsets of the set of propositions are also closed under deduction. For example, the set of true propositions is closed under deduction or entailment. Others are not. Under most accounts of belief, we may fail to believe what is entailed by what we do, in fact, believe. Thus, if knowledge is some form of true, justified belief, knowledge is not closed under deduction, for we may fail to believe a proposition entailed by a known proposition. Nevertheless, there is a related issue that has been the subject of much debate, namely: Is the set of justified propositions closed under deduction? Aside from the obvious importance of the answer to that question in developing an account of justification, there are two important issues in epistemology that also depend on the answer. Subtleties aside, the so-called Gettier problem depends in large part upon an affirmative answer to that question. For, assuming that a proposition can be justified and false, it is possible to construct cases in which a proposition, say p, is justified, false, but believed. Now, consider a true proposition, q, which is believed and entailed by p. If justification is closed under deduction, then q is justified, true, and believed. But if the only basis for believing q is p, it is clear that q is not known. Thus, true, justified belief is not sufficient for knowledge. What response is appropriate to this problem has been a central issue in epistemology since E. Gettier’s publication of “Is Justified True Belief Knowledge?” Analysis, 3. Whether justification is closed under deduction is also crucial when evaluating a common, traditional argument for skepticism. Consider any person, S, and let p be any proposition ordinarily thought to be knowable, e.g., that there is a table before S. The argument for skepticism goes like this: 1 If p is justified for S, then, since p entails q, where q is ‘there is no evil genius making S falsely believe that p’, q is justified for S. 2 S is not justified in believing q. Therefore, S is not justified in believing p. The first premise depends upon justification being closed under deduction. 

Cockburn, Catherine Trotter 16791749, English philosopher and playwright who made a significant contribution to the debates on ethical rationalism sparked by Clarke’s Boyle lectures 170405. The major theme of her writings is the nature of moral obligation. Cockburn displays a consistent, non-doctrinaire philosophical position, arguing that moral duty is to be rationally deduced from the “nature and fitness of things” Remarks, 1747 and is not founded primarily in externally imposed sanctions. Her writings, published anonymously, take the form of philosophical debates with others, including Samuel Rutherforth, William Warburton, Isaac Watts, Francis Hutcheson, and Lord Shaftesbury. Her best-known intervention in contemporary philosophical debate was her able defense of Locke’s Essay in 1702.

Cogito ergo sum – cited by Grice in “Descartes on clear and distinct perception.” ‘I think, therefore I am’, the starting point of Descartes’s system of knowledge. In his Discourse on the Method 1637, he observes that the proposition ‘I am thinking, therefore I exist’ je pense, donc je suis is “so firm and sure that the most extravagant suppositions of the skeptics were incapable of shaking it.” The celebrated phrase, in its better-known Latin version, also occurs in the Principles of Philosophy 1644, but is not to be found in the Meditations 1641, though the latter contains the fullest statement of the reasoning behind Descartes’s certainty of his own existence. 

Cognition -- cognitive dissonance, mental discomfort arising from conflicting beliefs or attitudes held simultaneously. Leon Festinger, who originated the theory of cognitive dissonance in a book of that title 7, suggested that cognitive dissonance has motivational characteristics. Suppose a person is contemplating moving to a new city. She is considering both Birmingham and Boston. She cannot move to both, so she must choose. Dissonance is experienced by the person if in choosing, say, Birmingham, she acquires knowledge of bad or unwelcome features of Birmingham and of good or welcome aspects of Boston. The amount of dissonance depends on the relative intensities of dissonant elements. Hence, if the only dissonant factor is her learning that Boston is cooler than Birmingham, and she does not regard climate as important, she will experience little dissonance. Dissonance may occur in several sorts of psychological states or processes, although the bulk of research in cognitive dissonance theory has been on dissonance in choice and on the justification and psychological aftereffects of choice. Cognitive dissonance may be involved in two phenomena of interest to philosophers, namely, self-deception and weakness of will. Why do self-deceivers try to get themselves to believe something that, in some sense, they know to be false? One may resort to self-deception when knowledge causes dissonance. Why do the weak-willed perform actions they know to be wrong? One may become weak-willed when dissonance arises from the expected consequences of doing the right thing. -- cognitive psychotherapy, an expression introduced by Brandt in A Theory of the Good and the Right to refer to a process of assessing and adjusting one’s desires, aversions, or pleasures henceforth, “attitudes”. This process is central to Brandt’s analysis of rationality, and ultimately, to his view on the justification of morality. Cognitive psychotherapy consists of the agent’s criticizing his attitudes by repeatedly representing to himself, in an ideally vivid way and at appropriate times, all relevant available information. Brandt characterizes the key definiens as follows: 1 available information is “propositions accepted by the science of the agent’s day, plus factual propositions justified by publicly accessible evidence including testimony of others about themselves and the principles of logic”; 2 information is relevant provided, if the agent were to reflect repeatedly on it, “it would make a difference,” i.e., would affect the attitude in question, and the effect would be a function of its content, not an accidental byproduct; 3 relevant information is represented in an ideally vivid way when the agent focuses on it with maximal clarity and detail and with no hesitation or doubt about its truth; and 4 repeatedly and at appropriate times refer, respectively, to the frequency and occasions that would result in the information’s having the maximal attitudinal impact. Suppose Mary’s desire to smoke were extinguished by her bringing to the focus of her attention, whenever she was about to inhale smoke, some justified beliefs, say that smoking is hazardous to one’s health and may cause lung cancer; Mary’s desire would have been removed by cognitive psychotherapy. According to Brandt, an attitude is rational for a person provided it is one that would survive, or be produced by, cognitive psychotherapy; otherwise it is irrational. Rational attitudes, in this sense, provide a basis for moral norms. Roughly, the correct moral norms are those of a moral code that persons would opt for if i they were motivated by attitudes that survive the process of cognitive psychotherapy; and ii at the time of opting for a moral code, they were fully aware of, and vividly attentive to, all available information relevant to choosing a moral code for a society in which they are to live for the rest of their lives. In this way, Brandt seeks a value-free justification for moral norms  one that avoids the problems of other theories such as those that make an appeal to intuitions.  -- cognitive science, an interdisciplinary research cluster that seeks to account for intelligent activity, whether exhibited by living organisms especially adult humans or machines. Hence, cognitive psychology and artificial intelligence constitute its core. A number of other disciplines, including neuroscience, linguistics, anthropology, and philosophy, as well as other fields of psychology e.g., developmental psychology, are more peripheral contributors. The quintessential cognitive scientist is someone who employs computer modeling techniques developing computer programs for the purpose of simulating particular human cognitive activities, but the broad range of disciplines that are at least peripherally constitutive of cognitive science have lent a variety of research strategies to the enterprise. While there are a few common institutions that seek to unify cognitive science e.g., departments, journals, and societies, the problems investigated and the methods of investigation often are limited to a single contributing discipline. Thus, it is more appropriate to view cognitive science as a cross-disciplinary enterprise than as itself a new discipline. While interest in cognitive phenomena has historically played a central role in the various disciplines contributing to cognitive science, the term properly applies to cross-disciplinary activities that emerged in the 0s. During the preceding two decades each of the disciplines that became part of cogntive science gradually broke free of positivistic and behavioristic proscriptions that barred systematic inquiry into the operation of the mind. One of the primary factors that catalyzed new investigations of cognitive activities was Chomsky’s generative grammar, which he advanced not only as an abstract theory of the structure of language, but also as an account of language users’ mental knowledge of language their linguistic competence. A more fundamental factor was the development of approaches for theorizing about information in an abstract manner, and the introduction of machines computers that could manipulate information. This gave rise to the idea that one might program a computer to process information so as to exhibit behavior that would, if performed by a human, require intelligence. If one tried to formulate a unifying question guiding cognitive science research, it would probably be: How does the cognitive system work? But even this common question is interpreted quite differently in different disciplines. We can appreciate these differences by looking just at language. While psycholinguists generally psychologists seek to identify the processing activities in the mind that underlie language use, most linguists focus on the products of this internal processing, seeking to articulate the abstract structure of language. A frequent goal of computer scientists, in contrast, has been to develop computer programs to parse natural language input and produce appropriate syntactic and semantic representations. These differences in objectives among the cognitive science disciplines correlate with different methodologies. The following represent some of the major methodological approaches of the contributing disciplines and some of the problems each encounters. Artificial intelligence. If the human cognition system is viewed as computational, a natural goal is to simulate its performance. This typically requires formats for representing information as well as procedures for searching and manipulating it. Some of the earliest AIprograms drew heavily on the resources of first-order predicate calculus, representing information in propositional formats and manipulating it according to logical principles. For many modeling endeavors, however, it proved important to represent information in larger-scale structures, such as frames Marvin Minsky, schemata David Rumelhart, or scripts Roger Schank, in which different pieces of information associated with an object or activity would be stored together. Such structures generally employed default values for specific slots specifying, e.g., that deer live in forests that would be part of the representation unless overridden by new information e.g., that a particular deer lives in the San Diego Zoo. A very influential alternative approach, developed by Allen Newell, replaces declarative representations of information with procedural representations, known as productions. These productions take the form of conditionals that specify actions to be performed e.g., copying an expression into working memory if certain conditions are satisfied e.g., the expression matches another expression. Psychology. While some psychologists develop computer simulations, a more characteristic activity is to acquire detailed data from human subjects that can reveal the cognitive system’s actual operation. This is a challenging endeavor. While cognitive activities transpire within us, they frequently do so in such a smooth and rapid fashion that we are unaware of them. For example, we have little awareness of what occurs when we recognize an object as a chair or remember the name of a client. Some cognitive functions, though, seem to be transparent to consciousness. For example, we might approach a logic problem systematically, enumerating possible solutions and evaluating them serially. Allen Newell and Herbert Simon have refined methods for exploiting verbal protocols obtained from subjects as they solve such problems. These methods have been quite fruitful, but their limitations must be respected. In many cases in which we think we know how we performed a cognitive task, Richard Nisbett and Timothy Wilson have argued that we are misled, relying on folk theories to describe how our minds work rather than reporting directly on their operation. In most cases cognitive psychologists cannot rely on conscious awareness of cognitive processes, but must proceed as do physiologists trying to understand metabolism: they must devise experiments that reveal the underlying processes operative in cognition. One approach is to seek clues in the errors to which the cognitive system cognitive science cognitive science is prone. Such errors might be more easily accounted for by one kind of underlying process than by another. Speech errors, such as substituting ‘bat cad’ for ‘bad cat’, may be diagnostic of the mechanisms used to construct speech. This approach is often combined with strategies that seek to overload or disrupt the system’s normal operation. A common technique is to have a subject perform two tasks at once  e.g., read a passage while watching for a colored spot. Cognitive psychologists may also rely on the ability to dissociate two phenomena e.g., obliterate one while maintaining the other to establish their independence. Other types of data widely used to make inferences about the cognitive system include patterns of reaction times, error rates, and priming effects in which activation of one item facilitates access to related items. Finally, developmental psychologists have brought a variety of kinds of data to bear on cognitive science issues. For example, patterns of acquisition times have been used in a manner similar to reaction time patterns, and accounts of the origin and development of systems constrain and elucidate mature systems. Linguistics. Since linguists focus on a product of cognition rather than the processes that produce the product, they tend to test their analyses directly against our shared knowledge of that product. Generative linguists in the tradition of Chomsky, for instance, develop grammars that they test by probing whether they generate the sentences of the language and no others. While grammars are certainly G.e to developing processing models, they do not directly determine the structure of processing models. Hence, the central task of linguistics is not central to cognitive science. However, Chomsky has augmented his work on grammatical description with a number of controversial claims that are psycholinguistic in nature e.g., his nativism and his notion of linguistic competence. Further, an alternative approach to incorporating psycholinguistic concerns, the cognitive linguistics of Lakoff and Langacker, has achieved prominence as a contributor to cognitive science. Neuroscience. Cognitive scientists have generally assumed that the processes they study are carried out, in humans, by the brain. Until recently, however, neuroscience has been relatively peripheral to cognitive science. In part this is because neuroscientists have been chiefly concerned with the implementation of processes, rather than the processes themselves, and in part because the techniques available to neuroscientists such as single-cell recording have been most suitable for studying the neural implementation of lower-order processes such as sensation. A prominent exception was the classical studies of brain lesions initiated by Broca and Wernicke, which seemed to show that the location of lesions correlated with deficits in production versus comprehension of speech. More recent data suggest that lesions in Broca’s area impair certain kinds of syntactic processing. However, other developments in neuroscience promise to make its data more relevant to cognitive modeling in the future. These include studies of simple nervous systems, such as that of the aplysia a genus of marine mollusk by Eric Kandel, and the development of a variety of techniques for determining the brain activities involved in the performance of cognitive tasks e.g., recording of evoked response potentials over larger brain structures, and imaging techniques such as positron emission tomography. While in the future neuroscience is likely to offer much richer information that will guide the development and constrain the character of cognitive models, neuroscience will probably not become central to cognitive science. It is itself a rich, multidisciplinary research cluster whose contributing disciplines employ a host of complicated research tools. Moreover, the focus of cognitive science can be expected to remain on cognition, not on its implementation. So far cognitive science has been characterized in terms of its modes of inquiry. One can also focus on the domains of cognitive phenomena that have been explored. Language represents one such domain. Syntax was one of the first domains to attract wide attention in cognitive science. For example, shortly after Chomsky introduced his transformational grammar, psychologists such as George Miller sought evidence that transformations figured directly in human language processing. From this beginning, a more complex but enduring relationship among linguists, psychologists, and computer scientists has formed a leading edge for much cognitive science research. Psycholinguistics has matured; sophisticated computer models of natural language processing have been developed; and cognitive linguists have offered a particular synthesis that emphasizes semantics, pragmatics, and cognitive foundations of language. Thinking and reasoning. These constitute an important domain of cognitive science that is closely linked to philosophical interests. Problem cognitive science cognitive science solving, such as that which figures in solving puzzles, playing games, or serving as an expert in a domain, has provided a prototype for thinking. Newell and Simon’s influential work construed problem solving as a search through a problem space and introduced the idea of heuristics  generally reliable but fallible simplifying devices to facilitate the search. One arena for problem solving, scientific reasoning and discovery, has particularly interested philosophers. Artificial intelligence researchers such as Simon and Patrick Langley, as well as philosophers such as Paul Thagard and Lindley Darden, have developed computer programs that can utilize the same data as that available to historical scientists to develop and evaluate theories and plan future experiments. Cognitive scientists have also sought to study the cognitive processes underlying the sorts of logical reasoning both deductive and inductive whose normative dimensions have been a concern of philosophers. Philip JohnsonLaird, for example, has sought to account for human performance in dealing with syllogistic reasoning by describing a processing of constructing and manipulating mental models. Finally, the process of constructing and using analogies is another aspect of reasoning that has been extensively studied by traditional philosophers as well as cognitive scientists. Memory, attention, and learning. Cognitive scientists have differentiated a variety of types of memory. The distinction between long- and short-term memory was very influential in the information-processing models of the 0s. Short-term memory was characterized by limited capacity, such as that exhibited by the ability to retain a seven-digit telephone number for a short period. In much cognitive science work, the notion of working memory has superseded short-term memory, but many theorists are reluctant to construe this as a separate memory system as opposed to a part of long-term memory that is activated at a given time. Endel Tulving introduced a distinction between semantic memory general knowledge that is not specific to a time or place and episodic memory memory for particular episodes or occurrences. More recently, Daniel Schacter proposed a related distinction that emphasizes consciousness: implicit memory access without awareness versus explicit memory which does involve awareness and is similar to episodic memory. One of the interesting results of cognitive research is the dissociation between different kinds of memory: a person might have severely impaired memory of recent events while having largely unimpaired implicit memory. More generally, memory research has shown that human memory does not simply store away information as in a file cabinet. Rather, information is organized according to preexisting structures such as scripts, and can be influenced by events subsequent to the initial storage. Exactly what gets stored and retrieved is partly determined by attention, and psychologists in the information-processing tradition have sought to construct general cognitive models that emphasize memory and attention. Finally, the topic of learning has once again become prominent. Extensively studied by the behaviorists of the precognitive era, learning was superseded by memory and attention as a research focus in the 0s. In the 0s, artificial intelligence researchers developed a growing interest in designing systems that can learn; machine learning is now a major problem area in AI. During the same period, connectionism arose to offer an alternative kind of learning model. Perception and motor control. Perceptual and motor systems provide the inputs and outputs to cognitive systems. An important aspect of perception is the recognition of something as a particular kind of object or event; this requires accessing knowledge of objects and events. One of the central issues concerning perception questions the extent to which perceptual processes are influenced by higher-level cognitive information top-down processing versus how much they are driven purely by incoming sensory information bottom-up processing. A related issue concerns the claim that visual imagery is a distinct cognitive process and is closely related to visual perception, perhaps relying on the same brain processes. A number of cognitive science inquiries e.g., by Roger Shepard and Stephen Kosslyn have focused on how people use images in problem solving and have sought evidence that people solve problems by rotating images or scanning them. This research has been extremely controversial, as other investigators have argued against the use of images and have tried to account for the performance data that have been generated in terms of the use of propositionally represented information. Finally, a distinction recently has been proposed between the What and Where systems. All of the foregoing issues concern the What system which recognizes and represents objects as exemplars of categories. The Where system, in contrast, concerns objects in their environment, and is particularly adapted to the dynamics of movement. Gibson’s ecological psychology is a long-standing inquiry into this aspect of perception, and work on the neural substrates is now attracting the interest of cognitive scientists as well. Recent developments. The breadth of cognitive science has been expanding in recent years. In the 0s, cognitive science inquiries tended to focus on processing activities of adult humans or on computer models of intelligent performance; the best work often combined these approaches. Subsequently, investigators examined in much greater detail how cognitive systems develop, and developmental psychologists have increasingly contributed to cognitive science. One of the surprising findings has been that, contrary to the claims of William James, infants do not seem to confront the world as a “blooming, buzzing confusion,” but rather recognize objects and events quite early in life. Cognitive science has also expanded along a different dimension. Until recently many cognitive studies focused on what humans could accomplish in laboratory settings in which they performed tasks isolated from reallife contexts. The motivation for this was the assumption that cognitive processes were generic and not limited to specific contexts. However, a variety of influences, including Gibsonian ecological psychology especially as interpreted and developed by Ulric Neisser and Soviet activity theory, have advanced the view that cognition is much more dynamic and situated in real-world tasks and environmental contexts; hence, it is necessary to study cognitive activities in an ecologically valid manner. Another form of expansion has resulted from a challenge to what has been the dominant architecture for modeling cognition. An architecture defines the basic processing capacities of the cognitive system. The dominant cognitive architecture has assumed that the mind possesses a capacity for storing and manipulating symbols. These symbols can be composed into larger structures according to syntactic rules that can then be operated upon by formal rules that recognize that structure. Jerry Fodor has referred to this view of the cognitive system as the “language of thought hypothesis” and clearly construes it as a modern heir of rationalism. One of the basic arguments for it, due to Fodor and Zenon Pylyshyn, is that thoughts, like language, exhibit productivity the unlimited capacity to generate new thoughts and systematicity exhibited by the inherent relation between thoughts such as ‘Joan loves the florist’ and ‘The florist loves Joan’. They argue that only if the architecture of cognition has languagelike compositional structure would productivity and systematicity be generic properties and hence not require special case-by-case accounts. The challenge to this architecture has arisen with the development of an alternative architecture, known as connectionism, parallel distributed processing, or neural network modeling, which proposes that the cognitive system consists of vast numbers of neuronlike units that excite or inhibit each other. Knowledge is stored in these systems by the adjustment of connection strengths between processing units; consequently, connectionism is a modern descendant of associationism. Connectionist networks provide a natural account of certain cognitive phenomena that have proven challenging for the symbolic architecture, including pattern recognition, reasoning with soft constraints, and learning. Whether they also can account for productivity and systematicity has been the subject of debate. Philosophical theorizing about the mind has often provided a starting point for the modeling and empirical investigations of modern cognitive science. The ascent of cognitive science has not meant that philosophers have ceased to play a role in examining cognition. Indeed, a number of philosophers have pursued their inquiries as contributors to cognitive science, focusing on such issues as the possible reduction of cognitive theories to those of neuroscience, the status of folk psychology relative to emerging scientific theories of mind, the merits of rationalism versus empiricism, and strategies for accounting for the intentionality of mental states. The interaction between philosophers and other cognitive scientists, however, is bidirectional, and a number of developments in cognitive science promise to challenge or modify traditional philosophical views of cognition. For example, studies by cognitive and social psychologists have challenged the assumption that human thinking tends to accord with the norms of logic and decision theory. On a variety of tasks humans seem to follow procedures heuristics that violate normative canons, raising questions about how philosophers should characterize rationality. Another area of empirical study that has challenged philosophical assumptions has been the study of concepts and categorization. Philosophers since Plato have widely assumed that concepts of ordinary language, such as red, bird, and justice, should be definable by necessary and sufficient conditions. But celebrated studies by Eleanor Rosch and her colleagues indicated that many ordinary-language concepts had a prototype structure instead. On this view, the categories employed in human thinking are characterized by prototypes the clearest exemplars and a metric that grades exemplars according to their degree of typicality. Recent investigations have also pointed to significant instability in conceptual structure and to the role of theoretical beliefs in organizing categories. This alternative conception of concepts has profound implications for philosophical methodologies that portray philosophy’s task to be the analysis of concepts. 

Neo-Kantian. Cohen, Hermann – Grice liked to think of himself as a neo-Kantian (“rather than a palaeo-Kantian, you see”) --  philosopher who originated and led, with Paul Natorp, the Marburg School of neo-Kantianism. He taught at Marburg. Cohen wrote commentaries on Kant’s Critiques prior to publishing System der Philosophie 212, which consisted of parts on logic, ethics, and aesthetics. He developed a Kantian idealism of the natural sciences, arguing that a transcendental analysis of these sciences shows that “pure thought” his system of Kantian a priori principles “constructs” their “reality.” He also developed Kant’s ethics as a democratic socialist ethics. He ended his career at a rabbinical seminary in Berlin, writing his influential Religion der Vernunft aus den Quellen des Judentums “Religion of Reason out of the Sources of Judaism,” 9, which explicated Judaism on the basis of his own Kantian ethical idealism. Cohen’s ethical-political views were adopted by Kurt Eisner 18679, leader of the Munich revolution of 8, and also had an impact on the revisionism of orthodox Marxism of the G. Social Democratic Party, while his philosophical writings greatly influenced Cassirer. 

Coherence – since H. P. Grice was a correspondentist, he hated Bradley. --  theory of truth, the view that either the nature of truth or the sole criterion for determining truth is constituted by a relation of coherence between the belief or judgment being assessed and other beliefs or judgments. As a view of the nature of truth, the coherence theory represents an alternative to the correspondence theory of truth. Whereas the correspondence theory holds that a belief is true provided it corresponds to independent reality, the coherence theory holds that it is true provided it stands in a suitably strong relation of coherence to other beliefs, so that the believer’s total system of beliefs forms a highly or perhaps perfectly coherent system. Since, on such a characterization, truth depends entirely on the internal relations within the system of beliefs, such a conception of truth seems to lead at once to idealism as regards the nature of reality, and its main advocates have been proponents of absolute idealism mainly Bradley, Bosanquet, and Brand Blanshard. A less explicitly metaphysical version of the coherence theory was also held by certain members of the school of logical positivism mainly Otto Neurath and Carl Hempel. The nature of the intended relation of coherence, often characterized metaphorically in terms of the beliefs in question fitting together or dovetailing with each other, has been and continues to be a matter of uncertainty and controversy. Despite occasional misconceptions to the contrary, it is clear that coherence is intended to be a substantially more demanding relation than mere consistency, involving such things as inferential and explanatory relations within the system of beliefs. Perfect or ideal coherence is sometimes described as requiring that every belief in the system of beliefs entails all the others though it must be remembered that those offering such a characterization do not restrict entailments to those that are formal or analytic in character. Since actual human systems of belief seem inevitably to fall short of perfect coherence, however that is understood, their truth is usually held to be only approximate at best, thus leading to the absolute idealist view that truth admits of degrees. As a view of the criterion of truth, the coherence theory of truth holds that the sole criterion or standard for determining whether a belief is true is its coherence with other beliefs or judgments, with the degree of justification varying with the degree of coherence. Such a view amounts to a coherence theory of epistemic justification. It was held by most of the proponents of the coherence theory of the nature of truth, though usually without distinguishing the two views very clearly. For philosophers who hold both of these views, the thesis that coherence is the sole criterion of truth is usually logically prior, and the coherence theory of the nature of truth is adopted as a consequence, the clearest argument being that only the view that perfect or ideal coherence is the nature of truth can make sense of the appeal to degrees of coherence as a criterion of truth.  -- coherentism, in epistemology, a theory of the structure of knowledge or justified beliefs according to which all beliefs representing knowledge are known or justified in virtue of their relations to other beliefs, specifically, in virtue of belonging to a coherent system of beliefs. Assuming that the orthodox account of knowledge is correct at least in maintaining that justified true belief is necessary for knowledge, we can identify two kinds of coherence theories of knowledge: those that are coherentist merely in virtue of incorporating a coherence theory of justification, and those that are doubly coherentist because they account for both justification and truth in terms of coherence. What follows will focus on coherence theories of justification. Historically, coherentism is the most significant alternative to foundationalism. The latter holds that some beliefs, basic or foundational beliefs, are justified apart from their relations to other beliefs, while all other beliefs derive their justification from that of foundational beliefs. Foundationalism portrays justification as having a structure like that of a building, with certain beliefs serving as the foundations and all other beliefs supported by them. Coherentism rejects this image and pictures justification as having the structure of a raft. Justified beliefs, like the planks that make up a raft, mutually support one another. This picture of the coherence theory is due to the positivist Otto Neurath. Among the positivists, Hempel shared Neurath’s sympathy for coherentism. Other defenders of coherentism from the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries were idealists, e.g., Bradley, Bosanquet, and Brand Blanshard. Idealists often held the sort of double coherence theory mentioned above. The contrast between foundationalism and coherentism is commonly developed in terms of the regress argument. If we are asked what justifies one of our beliefs, we characteristically answer by citing some other belief that supports it, e.g., logically or probabilistically. If we are asked about this second belief, we are likely to cite a third belief, and so on. There are three shapes such an evidential chain might have: it could go on forever, if could eventually end in some belief, or it could loop back upon itself, i.e., eventually contain again a belief that had occurred “higher up” on the chain. Assuming that infinite chains are not really possible, we are left with a choice between chains that end and circular chains. According to foundationalists, evidential chains must eventually end with a foundational belief that is justified, if the belief at the beginning of the chain is to be justified. Coherentists are then portrayed as holding that circular chains can yield justified beliefs. This portrayal is, in a way, correct. But it is also misleading since it suggests that the disagreement between coherentism and foundationalism is best understood as concerning only the structure of evidential chains. Talk of evidential chains in which beliefs that are further down on the chain are responsible for beliefs that are higher up naturally suggests the idea that just as real chains transfer forces, evidential chains transfer justification. Foundationalism then sounds like a real possibility. Foundational beliefs already have justification, and evidential chains serve to pass the justification along to other beliefs. But coherentism seems to be a nonstarter, for if no belief in the chain is justified to begin with, there is nothing to pass along. Altering the metaphor, we might say that coherentism seems about as likely to succeed as a bucket brigade that does not end at a well, but simply moves around in a circle. The coherentist seeks to dispel this appearance by pointing out that the primary function of evidential chains is not to transfer epistemic status, such as justification, from belief to belief. Indeed, beliefs are not the primary locus of justification. Rather, it is whole systems of belief that are justified or not in the primary sense; individual beliefs are justified in virtue of their membership in an appropriately structured system of beliefs. Accordingly, what the coherentist claims is that the appropriate sorts of evidential chains, which will be circular  indeed, will likely contain numerous circles  constitute justified systems of belief. The individual beliefs within such a system are themselves justified in virtue of their place in the entire system and not because this status is passed on to them from beliefs further down some evidential chain in which they figure. One can, therefore, view coherentism with considerable accuracy as a version of foundationalism that holds all beliefs to be foundational. From this perspective, the difference between coherentism and traditional foundationalism has to do with what accounts for the epistemic status of foundational beliefs, with traditional foundationalism holding that such beliefs can be justified in various ways, e.g., by perception or reason, while coherentism insists that the only way such beliefs can be justified is by being a member of an appropriately structured system of beliefs. One outstanding problem the coherentist faces is to specify exactly what constitutes a coherent system of beliefs. Coherence clearly must involve much more than mere absence of mutually contradictory beliefs. One way in which beliefs can be logically consistent is by concerning completely unrelated matters, but such a consistent system of beliefs would not embody the sort of mutual support that constitutes the core idea of coherentism. Moreover, one might question whether logical consistency is even necessary for coherence, e.g., on the basis of the preface paradox. Similar points can be made regarding efforts to begin an account of coherence with the idea that beliefs and degrees of belief must correspond to the probability calculus. So although it is difficult to avoid thinking that such formal features as logical and probabilistic consistency are significantly involved in coherence, it is not clear exactly how they are involved. An account of coherence can be drawn more directly from the following intuitive idea: a coherent system of belief is one in which each belief is epistemically supported by the others, where various types of epistemic support are recognized, e.g., deductive or inductive arguments, or inferences to the best explanation. There are, however, at least two problems this suggestion does not address. First, since very small sets of beliefs can be mutually supporting, the coherentist needs to say something about the scope a system of beliefs must have to exhibit the sort of coherence required for justification. Second, given the possibility of small sets of mutually supportive beliefs, it is apparently possible to build a system of very broad scope out of such small sets of mutually supportive beliefs by mere conjunction, i.e., without forging any significant support relations among them. Yet, since the interrelatedness of all truths does not seem discoverable by analyzing the concept of justification, the coherentist cannot rule out epistemically isolated subsystems of belief entirely. So the coherentist must say what sorts of isolated subsystems of belief are compatible with coherence. The difficulties involved in specifying a more precise concept of coherence should not be pressed too vigorously against the coherentist. For one thing, most foundationalists have been forced to grant coherence a significant role within their accounts of justification, so no dialectical advantage can be gained by pressing them. Moreover, only a little reflection is needed to see that nearly all the difficulties involved in specifying coherence are manifestations within a specific context of quite general philosophical problems concerning such matters as induction, explanation, theory choice, the nature of epistemic support, etc. They are, then, problems that are faced by logicians, philosophers of science, and epistemologists quite generally, regardless of whether they are sympathetic to coherentism. Coherentism faces a number of serious objections. Since according to coherentism justification is determined solely by the relations among beliefs, it does not seem to be capable of taking us outside the circle of our beliefs. This fact gives rise to complaints that coherentism cannot allow for any input from external reality, e.g., via perception, and that it can neither guarantee nor even claim that it is likely that coherent systems of belief will make contact with such reality or contain true beliefs. And while it is widely granted that justified false beliefs are possible, it is just as widely accepted that there is an important connection between justification and truth, a connection that rules out accounts according to which justification is not truth-conducive. These abstractly formulated complaints can be made more vivid, in the case of the former, by imagining a person with a coherent system of beliefs that becomes frozen, and fails to change in the face of ongoing sensory experience; and in the case of the latter, by pointing out that, barring an unexpected account of coherence, it seems that a wide variety of coherent systems of belief are possible, systems that are largely disjoint or even incompatible. 

Collier, A.: Grice found the Clavis Universalis quite fun (“to read”). -- English philosopher, a Wiltshire parish priest whose Clavis Universalis 1713 defends a version of immaterialism closely akin to Berkeley’s. Matter, Collier contends, “exists in, or in dependence on mind.” He emphatically affirms the existence of bodies, and, like Berkeley, defends immaterialCoimbra commentaries Collier, Arthur 155   155 ism as the only alternative to skepticism. Collier grants that bodies seem to be external, but their “quasi-externeity” is only the effect of God’s will. In Part I of the Clavis Collier argues as Berkeley had in his New Theory of Vision, 1709 that the visible world is not external. In Part II he argues as Berkeley had in the Principles, 1710, and Three Dialogues, 1713 that the external world “is a being utterly impossible.” Two of Collier’s arguments for the “intrinsic repugnancy” of the external world resemble Kant’s first and second antinomies. Collier argues, e.g., that the material world is both finite and infinite; the contradiction can be avoided, he suggests, only by denying its external existence. Some scholars suspect that Collier deliberately concealed his debt to Berkeley; most accept his report that he arrived at his views ten years before he published them. Collier first refers to Berkeley in letters written in 171415. In A Specimen of True Philosophy 1730, where he offers an immaterialist interpretation of the opening verse of Genesis, Collier writes that “except a single passage or two” in Berkeley’s Dialogues, there is no other book “which I ever heard of” on the same subject as the Clavis. This is a puzzling remark on several counts, one being that in the Preface to the Dialogues, Berkeley describes his earlier books. Collier’s biographer reports seeing among his papers now lost an outline, dated 1708, on “the question of the visible world being without us or not,” but he says no more about it. The biographer concludes that Collier’s independence cannot reasonably be doubted; perhaps the outline would, if unearthed, establish this. 

Collingwood, R. G.—cited by H. P. Grice in “Metaphysics,” in D. F. Pears, “The nature of metaphysics.” – Like Grice, Collingwood was influenced by J. C. Wilson’s subordinate interrogation. English philosopher and historian. His father, W. G. Collingwood, John Ruskin’s friend, secretary, and biographer, at first educated him at home in Coniston and later sent him to Rugby School and then Oxford. Immediately upon graduating in 2, he was elected to a fellowship at Pembroke ; except for service with admiralty intelligence during World War I, he remained at Oxford until 1, when illness compelled him to retire. Although his Autobiography expresses strong disapproval of the lines on which, during his lifetime, philosophy at Oxford developed, he was a varsity “insider.” He was elected to the Waynflete Professorship, the first to become vacant after he had done enough work to be a serious candidate. He was also a leading archaeologist of Roman Britain. Although as a student Collingwood was deeply influenced by the “realist” teaching of John Cook Wilson, he studied not only the British idealists, but also Hegel and the contemporary  post-Hegelians. At twenty-three, he published a translation of Croce’s book on Vico’s philosophy. Religion and Philosophy 6, the first of his attempts to present orthodox Christianity as philosophically acceptable, has both idealist and Cook Wilsonian elements. Thereafter the Cook Wilsonian element steadily diminished. In Speculum Mentis4, he investigated the nature and ultimate unity of the four special ‘forms of experience’  art, religion, natural science, and history  and their relation to a fifth comprehensive form  philosophy. While all four, he contended, are necessary to a full human life now, each is a form of error that is corrected by its less erroneous successor. Philosophy is error-free but has no content of its own: “The truth is not some perfect system of philosophy: it is simply the way in which all systems, however perfect, collapse into nothingness on the discovery that they are only systems.” Some critics dismissed this enterprise as idealist a description Collingwood accepted when he wrote, but even those who favored it were disturbed by the apparent skepticism of its result. A year later, he amplified his views about art in Outlines of a Philosophy of Art. Since much of what Collingwood went on to write about philosophy has never been published, and some of it has been negligently destroyed, his thought after Speculum Mentis is hard to trace. It will not be definitively established until the more than 3,000 s of his surviving unpublished manuscripts deposited in the Bodleian Library in 8 have been thoroughly studied. They were not available to the scholars who published studies of his philosophy as a whole up to 0. Three trends in how his philosophy developed, however, are discernible. The first is that as he continued to investigate the four special forms of experience, he came to consider each valid in its own right, and not a form of error. As early as 8, he abandoned the conception of the historical past in Speculum Mentis as simply a spectacle, alien to the historian’s mind; he now proposed a theory of it as thoughts explaining past actions that, although occurring in the past, can be rethought in the present. Not only can the identical thought “enacted” at a definite time in the past be “reenacted” any number of times after, but it can be known to be so reenacted if colligation physical evidence survives that can be shown to be incompatible with other proposed reenactments. In 334 he wrote a series of lectures posthumously published as The Idea of Nature in which he renounced his skepticism about whether the quantitative material world can be known, and inquired why the three constructive periods he recognized in European scientific thought, the Grecian, the Renaissance, and the modern, could each advance our knowledge of it as they did. Finally, in 7, returning to the philosophy of art and taking full account of Croce’s later work, he showed that imagination expresses emotion and becomes false when it counterfeits emotion that is not felt; thus he transformed his earlier theory of art as purely imaginative. His later theories of art and of history remain alive; and his theory of nature, although corrected by research since his death, was an advance when published. The second trend was that his conception of philosophy changed as his treatment of the special forms of experience became less skeptical. In his beautifully written Essay on Philosophical Method 3, he argued that philosophy has an object  the ens realissimum as the one, the true, and the good  of which the objects of the special forms of experience are appearances; but that implies what he had ceased to believe, that the special forms of experience are forms of error. In his Principles of Art 8 and New Leviathan 2 he denounced the idealist principle of Speculum Mentis that to abstract is to falsify. Then, in his Essay on Metaphysics 0, he denied that metaphysics is the science of being qua being, and identified it with the investigation of the “absolute presuppositions” of the special forms of experience at definite historical periods. A third trend, which came to dominate his thought as World War II approached, was to see serious philosophy as practical, and so as having political implications. He had been, like Ruskin, a radical Tory, opposed less to liberal or even some socialist measures than to the bourgeois ethos from which they sprang. Recognizing European fascism as the barbarism it was, and detesting anti-Semitism, he advocated an antifascist foreign policy and intervention in the  civil war in support of the republic. His last major publication, The New Leviathan, impressively defends what he called civilization against what he called barbarism; and although it was neglected by political theorists after the war was won, the collapse of Communism and the rise of Islamic states are winning it new readers. 

Grice’s combinatory logic, a branch of logic that deals with formal systems designed for the study of certain basic operations for constructing and manipulating functions as rules, i.e. as rules of calculation expressed by definitions. The notion of a function was fundamental in the development of modern formal or mathematical logic that was initiated by Frege, Peano, Russell, Hilbert, and others. Frege was the first to introduce a generalization of the mathematical notion of a function to include propositional functions, and he used the general notion for formally representing logical notions such as those of a concept, object, relation, generality, and judgment. Frege’s proposal to replace the traditional logical notions of subject and predicate by argument and function, and thus to conceive predication as functional application, marks a turning point in the history of formal logic. In most modern logical systems, the notation used to express functions, including propositional functions, is essentially that used in ordinary mathematics. As in ordinary mathematics, certain basic notions are taken for granted, such as the use of variables to indicate processes of substitution. Like the original systems for modern formal logic, the systems of combinatory logic were designed to give a foundation for mathematics. But combinatory logic arose as an effort to carry the foundational aims further and deeper. It undertook an analysis of notions taken for granted in the original systems, in particular of the notions of substitution and of the use of variables. In this respect combinatory logic was conceived by one of its founders, H. B. Curry, to be concerned with the ultimate foundations and with notions that constitute a “prelogic.” It was hoped that an analysis of this prelogic would disclose the true source of the difficulties connected with the logical paradoxes. The operation of applying a function to one of its arguments, called application, is a primitive operation in all systems of combinatory logic. If f is a function and x a possible argument, then the result of the application operation is denoted fx. In mathematics this is usually written fx, but the notation fx is more convenient in combinatory logic. The G. logician M. Schönfinkel, who started combinatory logic in 4, observed that it is not necessary to introduce color realism combinatory logic functions of more than one variable, provided that the idea of a function is enlarged so that functions can be arguments as well as values of other functions. A function Fx,y is represented with the function f, which when applied to the argument x has, as a value, the function fx, which, when applied to y, yields Fx,y, i.e. fxy % Fx,y. It is therefore convenient to omit parentheses with association to the left so that fx1 . . . xn is used for  . . . fx1 . . . xn. Schönfinkel’s main result was to show how to make the class of functions studied closed under explicit definition by introducing two specific primitive functions, the combinators S and K, with the rules Kxy % x, and Sxyz % xzyz. To illustrate the effect of S in ordinary mathematical notation, let f and g be functions of two and one arguments, respectively; then Sfg is the function such that Sfgx % fx,gx. Generally, if ax1, . . . ,xn is an expression built up from constants and the variables shown by means of the application operation, then there is a function F constructed out of constants including the combinators S and K, such that Fx1 . . . xn % ax1, . . . , xn. This is essentially the meaning of the combinatory completeness of the theory of combinators in the terminology of H. B. Curry and R. Feys, Combinatory Logic 8; and H. B. Curry, J. R. Hindley, and J. P. Seldin, Combinatory Logic, vol. II 2. The system of combinatory logic with S and K as the only primitive functions is the simplest equation calculus that is essentially undecidable. It is a type-free theory that allows the formation of the term ff, i.e. self-application, which has given rise to problems of interpretation. There are also type theories based on combinatory logic. The systems obtained by extending the theory of combinators with functions representing more familiar logical notions such as negation, implication, and generality, or by adding a device for expressing inclusion in logical categories, are studied in illative combinatory logic. The theory of combinators exists in another, equivalent form, namely as the type-free l-calculus created by Church in 2. Like the theory of combinators, it was designed as a formalism for representing functions as rules of calculation, and it was originally part of a more general system of functions intended as a foundation for mathematics. The l-calculus has application as a primitive operation, but instead of building up new functions from some primitive ones by application, new functions are here obtained by functional abstraction. If ax is an expression built up by means of application from constants and the variable x, then ax is considered to define a function denoted lx.a x, whose value for the argument b is ab, i.e. lx.a xb % ab. The function lx.ax is obtained from ax by functional abstraction. The property of combinatory completeness or closure under explicit definition is postulated in the form of functional abstraction. The combinators can be defined using functional abstraction i.e., K % lx.ly.x and S % lx.ly.lz.xzyz, and conversely, in the theory of combinators, functional abstraction can be defined. A detailed presentation of the l-calculus is found in H. Barendregt, The Lambda Calculus, Its Syntax and Semantics 1. It is possible to represent the series of natural numbers by a sequence of closed terms in the lcalculus. Certain expressions in the l-calculus will then represent functions on the natural numbers, and these l-definable functions are exactly the general recursive functions or the Turing computable functions. The equivalence of l-definability and general recursiveness was one of the arguments used by Church for what is known as Church’s thesis, i.e., the identification of the effectively computable functions and the recursive functions. The first problem about recursive undecidability was expressed by Church as a problem about expressions in the l calculus. The l-calculus thus played a historically important role in the original development of recursion theory. Due to the emphasis in combinatory logic on the computational aspect of functions, it is natural that its method has been found useful in proof theory and in the development of systems of constructive mathematics. For the same reason it has found several applications in computer science in the construction and analysis of programming languages. The techniques of combinatory logic have also been applied in theoretical linguistics, e.g. in so-called Montague grammar. In recent decades combinatory logic, like other domains of mathematical logic, has developed into a specialized branch of mathematics, in which the original philosophical and foundational aims and motives are of little and often no importance. One reason for this is the discovery of the new technical applications, which were not intended originally, and which have turned the interest toward several new mathematical problems. Thus, the original motives are often felt to be less urgent and only of historical significance. Another reason for the decline of the original philosophical and foundational aims may be a growing awareness in the philosophy of mathematics of the limitations of formal and mathematical methods as tools for conceptual combinatory logic combinatory logic clarification, as tools for reaching “ultimate foundations.” 

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

common-ground status assignment: While Grice was invited to a symposium on ‘mutual knowledge,’ he never was for ‘regressive accounts’ of ‘know,’ perhaps because he had to be different, and the idea of the mutual or common knowledge was the obvious way to deal with his account of communication. He rejects it and opts for an anti-sneak clause. In the common-ground he uses the phrase, “What the eye no longer sees, the heart no longer grieves for.” What does he mean? He means that in the case of some recognizable divergence between the function of a communication device in a rational calculus and in the vernacular, one may have to assign ‘common ground status’ to certain features, e. g. [The king of France is] bald. By using the square brackets, or subscripts, in “Vacuous names and descriptions,” the material within their scope is ‘immune’ to refutation. It has some sort of conversational ‘inertia.’ So the divergence, for which Grice’s heart grieved, is no more to be seen by Grice’s eye. Strwson and Wiggins view that this is only tentative for Grice. the regulations for common-ground assignment have to do with general rational constraints on conversation. Grice is clear in “Causal,” and as Strawson lets us know, he was already clear in “Introduction” when talking of a ‘pragmatic rule.’ Strawson states the rule in terms of making your conversational contribution the logically strongest possible. If we abide by an imperative of conversational helpfulness, enjoining the maximally giving and receiving of information and the influencing and being influenced by others in the institution of a decisions, the sub-imperative follows to the effect, ‘Thou shalt NOT make a weak move compared to the stronger one that thou canst truthfully make, and with equal or greater economy of means.’“Causal” provides a more difficult version, because it deals with non-extensional contexts where ‘strong’ need not be interpreted as ‘logical strength’ in terms of entailment. Common ground status assignment springs from the principle of conversational helpfulness or conversational benevolence. What would be the benevolent point of ‘informing’ your addressee what you KNOW your addressee already knows? It is not even CONCEPTUALLY possible. You are not ‘informing’ him if you are aware that he knows it. So, what Strawson later calls the principle of presumption of ignorance and the principle of the presumption of knowledge are relevant. There is a balance between the two. If Strawson asks Grice, “Is the king of France bald?” Grice is entitled to assume that Strawson thinks two things Grice will perceive as having been assigned a ‘common-ground’ status as uncontroversial topic not worth conversing about. First, Strawson thinks that there is one king. (∃x)Fx. Second, Strawson thinks that there is at most one king. (x)(y)((Fx.Fy)⊃ x=y). That the king is bald is NOT assigned common-ground status, because Grice cannot expect that Strawson thinks that Grice KNOWS that. Grice symbolises the common-ground status by means of subscripts. He also uses square-bracekts, so that anything within the scope of the square brackets is immune to controversy, or as Grice also puts it, conversationally _inert_: things we don’t talk about.

communication device: Grice always has ‘or communication devices’ at the tip of his tongue. “Language or communication devices” (WoW: 284). A device is produced. A device can be misunderstood.

communicatum: With the linguistic turn, as Grice notes, it was all about ‘language.’ But at Oxford they took a cavalier attitude to language, that Grice felt like slightly rectifying, while keeping it cavalier as we like it at Oxford. The colloquialism of ‘mean’ does not translate well in the Graeco-Roman tradition Grice was educated via his Lit. Hum. (Philos.) and at Clifton. ‘Communicate’ might do. On top, Grice does use ‘communicate’ on various occasions in WoW.  By psi-transmission, something that belonged in the emissor becomes ‘common property,’ ‘communion’ has been achived. Now the recipient KNOWS that it is raining (shares the belief with the emissor) and IS GOING to bring that umbrella (has formed a desire). “Communication” is cognate with ‘communion,’ while conversation is cognate with ‘sex’! When Grice hightlights the ‘common ground’ in ‘communication’ he is being slightly rhetorical, so it is good when he weakens the claim from ‘common ground’ to ‘non-trivial.’ A: I’m going to the concert. My uncle’s brother went to that concert. The emissor cannot presume that his addressee KNEW that he had an unlce let alone that his uncle had a brother (the emissor’s father). But any expansion would trigger the wrong implicatum. One who likes ‘communication’ is refined Strawson (I’m using refined as J. Barnes does it, “turn Plato into refined Strawson”). Both in his rat-infested example and at the inaugural lecture at Oxford. Grice, for one, has given us reason to think that, with sufficient care, and far greater refinement than I have indicated, it is possible to expound such a concept of communication-intention or, as he calls it, utterer's meaning, which is proof against objection.  it is a commonplace that Grice belongs, as most philosophers of the twentieth century, to the movement of the linguistic turn. Short and Lewis have “commūnĭcare,” earlier “conmunicare,” f. communis, and thus sharing the prefix with “conversare.” Now “communis” is an interesting lexeme that Grice uses quite centrally in his idea of the ‘common ground’ – when a feature of discourse is deemed to have been assigned ‘common-ground status.’ “Communis” features the “cum-” prefix, commūnis (comoinis); f. “con” and root “mu-,” to bind; Sanscr. mav-; cf.: immunis, munus, moenia. The ‘communicatum’ (as used by Tammelo in  social philosophy) may well cover what Grice would call the total ‘significatio,’ or ‘significatum.’ Grice takes this seriously. Let us start then by examining what we mean by ‘linguistic,’ or ‘communication.’ It is curious that while most Griceians overuse ‘communicative’ as applied to ‘intention,’ Grice does not. Communicator’s intention, at most. This is the Peirce in Grice’s soul. Meaning provides an excellent springboard for Grice to centre his analysis on psychological or soul-y verbs as involving the agent and the first person: smoke only figuratively means fire, and the expression smoke only figuratively (or metabolically) means that there is fire. It is this or that utterer (say, Grice) who means, say, by uttering Where theres smoke theres fire, or ubi fumus, ibi ignis, that where theres smoke theres fire. A means something by uttering x, an utterance-token is roughly equivalent to utterer U intends the utterance of x to produce some effect in his addressee A by means of the recognition of this intention; and we may add that to ask what U means is to ask for a specification of the intended effect - though, of course, it may not always be possible to get a straight answer involving a that-clause, for example, a belief that  He does provide a more specific example involving the that-clause at a later stage. By uttering x, U means that-ψ­_b-dp ≡ (Ǝφ)(Ǝf)(Ǝc) U utters x  intending x to be such that anyone who has φ think that x has f, f is correlated in way c with ψ-ing that p, and (Ǝφ') U intends x to be such that anyone who has φ' think, via thinking that x has f and that f is correlated in way c with ψ-ing that p, that U ψ-s that p, and in view of (Ǝφ') U intending x to be such that anyone who has φ' think, via thinking that x has f, and f is correlated in way c with ψ-ing that p, that U ψ-s that p, U ψ-s that p, and, for some substituends of ψ_b-d, U utters x intending that, should there actually be anyone who has φ, he will, via thinking in view of (Ǝφ') U intending x to be such that anyone who has φ' think, via thinking that x has f, and  f is correlated in way c with ψ-ing that p, that U ψ-s that p, U ψ-s that p himself ψ that p, and it is not the case that, for some inference element E, U intends x to be such that anyone who has φ both rely on E in coming to ψ, or think that U ψ-s, that p and  think that (Ǝφ) U intends x to be such that anyone who has φ come to ψ (or think that U ψ-s) that p without relying on E. Besides St. John The Baptist, and Salome, Grice cites few Namess in Meaning. But he makes a point about Stevenson! For Stevenson, smoke means fire. Meaning develops out of an interest by Grice on the philosophy of Peirce. In his essays on Peirce, Grice quotes from many other authors, including, besides Peirce himself (!), Ogden, Richards, and Ewing, or A. C. Virtue is not a fire-shovel Ewing, as Grice calls him, and this or that cricketer. In the characteristic Oxonian fashion of a Lit. Hum., Grice has no intention to submit Meaning to publication. Publishing is vulgar. Bennett, however, guesses that Grice decides to publish it just a year after his Defence of a dogma. Bennett’s argument is that Defence of a dogma pre-supposes some notion of meaning. However, a different story may be told, not necessarily contradicting Bennetts. It is Strawson who submits the essay by Grice to The Philosophical Review (henceforth, PR) Strawson attends Grices talk on Meaning for The Oxford Philosophical Society, and likes it. Since In defence of a dogma was co-written with Strawson, the intention Bennett ascribes to Grice is Strawsons. Oddly, Strawson later provides a famous alleged counter-example to Grice on meaning in Intention and convention in speech acts, following J. O. Urmson’s earlier attack to the sufficiency of Grices analysans -- which has Grice dedicating a full James lecture (No. 5) to it. there is Strawsons rat-infested house for which it is insufficient. An interesting fact, that confused a few, is that Hart quotes from Grices Meaning in his critical review of Holloway for The Philosophical Quarterly. Hart quotes Grice pre-dating the publication of Meaning. Harts point is that Holloway should have gone to Oxford! In Meaning, Grice may be seen as a practitioner of ordinary-language philosophy: witness his explorations of the factivity (alla know, remember, or see) or lack thereof of various uses of to mean. The second part of the essay, for which he became philosophically especially popular, takes up an intention-based approach to semantic notions. The only authority Grice cites, in typical Oxonian fashion, is, via Ogden and Barnes, Stevenson, who, from The New World (and via Yale, too!) defends an emotivist theory of ethics, and making a few remarks on how to mean is used, with scare quotes, in something like a causal account (Smoke means fire.). After its publication Grices account received almost as many alleged counterexamples as rule-utilitarianism (Harrison), but mostly outside Oxford, and in The New World. New-World philosophers seem to have seen Grices attempt as reductionist and as oversimplifying. At Oxford, the sort of counterexample Grice received, before Strawson, was of the Urmson-type: refined, and subtle. I think your account leaves bribery behind. On the other hand, in the New World ‒ in what Grice calls the Latter-Day School of Nominalism, Quine is having troubles with empiricism. Meaning was repr. in various collections, notably in Philosophical Logic, ed. by Strawson. It should be remembered that it is Strawson who has the thing typed and submitted for publication. Why Meaning should be repr. in a collection on Philosophical Logic only Strawson knows. But Grice does say that his account may help clarify the meaning of entails! It may be Strawsons implicature that Parkinson should have repr. (and not merely credited) Meaning by Grice in his series for Oxford on The theory of meaning. The preferred quotation for Griceians is of course The Oxford Philosophical Society quote, seeing that Grice recalled the exact year when he gave the talk for the Philosophical Society at Oxford! It is however, the publication in The Philosophi, rather than the quieter evening at the Oxford Philosophical Society, that occasioned a tirade of alleged counter-examples by New-World philosophers. Granted, one or two Oxonians ‒ Urmson and Strawson ‒ fell in! Urmson criticises the sufficiency of Grices account, by introducing an alleged counter-example involving bribery. Grice will consider a way out of Urmsons alleged counter-example in his fifth Wiliam James Lecture, rightly crediting and thanking Urmson for this! Strawsons alleged counter-example was perhaps slightly more serious, if regressive. It also involves the sufficiency of Grices analysis. Strawsons rat-infested house alleged counter-example started a chain which required Grice to avoid, ultimately, any sneaky intention by way of a recursive clause to the effect that, for utterer U to have meant that p, all meaning-constitutive intentions should be above board. But why this obsession by Grice with mean? He is being funny. Spots surely dont mean, only mean.They dont have a mind. Yet Grice opens with a specific sample. Those spots mean, to the doctor, that you, dear, have measles. Mean? Yes, dear, mean, doctors orders. Those spots mean measles. But how does the doctor know? Cannot he be in the wrong? Not really, mean is factive, dear! Or so Peirce thought. Grice is amazed that Peirce thought that some meaning is factive. The hole in this piece of cloth means that a bullet went through is is one of Peirce’s examples. Surely, as Grice notes, this is an unhappy example. The hole in the cloth may well have caused by something else, or fabricated. (Or the postmark means that the letter went through the post.) Yet, Grice was having Oxonian tutees aware that Peirce was krypto-technical. Grice chose for one of his pre-Meaning seminars on Peirce’s general theory of signs, with emphasis on general, and the correspondence of Peirce and Welby. Peirce, rather than the Vienna circle, becomes, in vein with Grices dissenting irreverent rationalism, important as a source for Grices attempt to English Peirce. Grices implicature seems to be that Peirce, rather than Ayer, cared for the subtleties of meaning and sign, never mind a verificationist theory about them! Peirce ultra-Latinate-cum-Greek taxonomies have Grice very nervous, though. He knew that his students were proficient in the classics, but still. Grice thus proposes to reduce all of Peirceian divisions and sub-divisions (one sub-division too many) to mean. In the proceedings, he quotes from Ogden, Richards, and Ewing. In particular, Grice was fascinated by the correspondence of Peirce with Lady Viola Welby, as repr. by Ogden/Richards in, well, their study on the meaning of meaning. Grice thought the science of symbolism pretentious, but then he almost thought Lady Viola Welby slightly pretentious, too, if youve seen her; beautiful lady. It is via Peirce that Grice explores examples such as those spots meaning measles. Peirce’s obsession is with weathercocks almost as Ockham was with circles on wine-barrels. Old-World Grices use of New-World Peirce is illustrative, thus, of the Oxonian linguistic turn focused on ordinary language. While Peirce’s background was not philosophical, Grice thought it comical enough. He would say that Peirce is an amateur, but then he said the same thing about Mill, whom Grice had to study by heart to get his B. A. Lit. Hum.! Plus, as Watson commented, what is wrong with amateur? Give me an amateur philosopher ANY day, if I have to choose from professional Hegel! In finding Peirce krypo-technical, Grice is ensuing that his tutees, and indeed any Oxonian philosophy student (he was university lecturer) be aware that to mean should be more of a priority than this or that jargon by this or that (New World?) philosopher!? Partly! Grice wanted his students to think on their own, and draw their own conclusions! Grice cites Ewing, Ogden/Richards, and many others. Ewing, while Oxford-educated, had ended up at Cambridge (Scruton almost had him as his tutor) and written some points on Meaninglessness! Those spots mean measles. Grice finds Peirce krypto-technical and proposes to English him into an ordinary-language philosopher. Surely it is not important whether we consider a measles spot a sign, a symbol, or an icon. One might just as well find a doctor in London who thinks those spots symbolic. If Grice feels like Englishing Peirce, he does not altogether fail! meaning, reprints, of Meaning and other essays, a collection of reprints and offprints of Grices essays. Meaning becomes a central topic of at least two strands in Retrospective epilogue. The first strand concerns the idea of the centrality of the utterer. What Grice there calls meaning BY (versus meaning TO), i.e. as he also puts it, active or agents meaning. Surely he is right in defending an agent-based account to meaning. Peirce need not, but Grice must, because he is working with an English root, mean, that is only figurative applicable to non-agentive items (Smoke means rain). On top, Grice wants to conclude that only a rational creature (a person) can meanNN properly. Non-human animals may have a correlate. This is a truly important point for Grice since he surely is seen as promoting a NON-convention-based approach to meaning, and also defending from the charge of circularity in the non-semantic account of propositional attitudes. His final picture is a rationalist one. P₁ G wants to communicate about a danger to P₂. This presupposes there IS a danger (item of reality). Then P₁ G believes there is a danger, and communicates to P₂ G2 that there is a danger. This simple view of conversation as rational co-operation underlies Grices account of meaning too, now seen as an offshoot of philosophical psychology, and indeed biology, as he puts it. Meaning as yet another survival mechanism. While he would never use a cognate like significance in his Oxford Philosophical Society talk, Grice eventually starts to use such Latinate cognates at a later stage of his development. In Meaning, Grice does not explain his goal. By sticking with a root that the Oxford curriculum did not necessarily recognised as philosophical (amateur Peirce did!), Grice is implicating that he is starting an ordinary-language botanising on his own repertoire! Grice was amused by the reliance by Ewing on very Oxonian examples contra Ayer: Surely Virtue aint a fire-shovel is perfectly meaningful, and if fact true, if, Ill admit, somewhat misleading and practically purposeless at Cambridge. Again, the dismissal by Grice of natural meaning is due to the fact that natural meaning prohibits its use in the first person and followed by a that-clause. ‘I mean-n that p’ sounds absurd, no communication-function seems in the offing, there is no ‘sign for,’ as Woozley would have it. Grice found, with Suppes, all types of primacy (ontological, axiological, psychological) in utterers meaning. In Retrospective epilogue, he goes back to the topic, as he reminisces that it is his suggestion that there are two allegedly distinguishable meaning concepts, even if one is meta-bolical, which may be called natural meaning and non-natural meaning. There is this or that test (notably factivity-entailment vs. cancelation, but also scare quotes) which may be brought to bear to distinguish one concept from the other. We may, for example, inquire whether a particular occurrence of the predicate mean is factive or non-factive, i. e., whether for it to be true that [so and so] means that p, it does or does not have to be the case that it is true that p. Again, one may ask whether the use of quotation marks to enclose the specification of what is meant would be inappropriate or appropriate. If factivity, as in know, remember, and see, is present and quotation marks, oratio recta, are be inappropriate, we have a case of natural meaning. Otherwise the meaning involved is non-natural meaning. We may now ask whether there is a single overarching idea which lies behind both members of this dichotomy of uses to which the predicate meaning that seems to be Subjects. If there is such a central idea it might help to indicate to us which of the two concepts is in greater need of further analysis and elucidation and in what direction such elucidation should proceed. Grice confesses that he has only fairly recently come to believe that there is such an overarching idea and that it is indeed of some service in the proposed inquiry. The idea behind both uses of mean is that of consequence, or consequentia, as Hobbes has it. If x means that p, something which includes p or the idea of p, is a consequence of x. In the metabolic natural use of meaning that p, p, this or that consequence, is this or that state of affairs. In the literal, non-metabolic, basic, non-natural use of meaning that p, (as in Smith means that his neighbour’s three-year child is an adult), p, this or that consequence is this or that conception or complexus which involves some other conception. This perhaps suggests that of the two concepts it is, as it should, non-natural meaning which is more in need of further elucidation. It seems to be the more specialised of the pair, and it also seems to be the less determinate. We may, e. g., ask how this or that conception enters the picture. Or we may ask whether what enters the picture is the conception itself or its justifiability. On these counts Grice should look favorably on the idea that, if further analysis should be required for one of the pair, the notion of non-natural meaning would be first in line. There are factors which support the suitability of further analysis for the concept of non-natural meaning. Meaning_NN that p (non-natural meaning) does not look as if it Namess an original feature of items in the world, for two reasons which are possibly not mutually independent. One reason is that, given suitable background conditions, meaning, can be changed by fiat. The second reason is that the presence of meaning_NN is dependent on a framework provided by communication, if that is not too circular.  Communication is in the philosophical lexicon. Lewis and Short have “commūnĭcātĭo,” f. communicare,"(several times in Cicero, elsewhere rare), and as they did with negatio and they will with significatio, Short and Lewis render, unhelpfully, as a making common, imparting, communicating. largitio et communicatio civitatis;” “quaedam societas et communicatio utilitatum,” “consilii communicatio, “communicatio sermonis,” criminis cum pluribus; “communicatio nominum, i. e. the like appellation of several objects; “juris; “damni; In rhetorics, communicatio, trading on the communis, a figure, translating Grecian ἀνακοίνωσις, in accordance with which the utterer turns to his addressee, and, as it were, allows him to take part in the inquiry. It seems to Grice, then, at least reasonable and possibly even emphatically mandatory, to treat the claim that a communication vehicle, such as this and that expression means that p, in this transferred, metaphoric, or meta-bolic use of means that as being reductively analysable in terms of this or that feature of this or that utterer, communicator, or user of this or that expression. The use of meaning that as applied to this or that expression is posterior to and explicable through the utterer-oriented, or utterer-relativised use, i.e. involving a reference to this or that communicator or user of this or that expression. More specifically, one should license a metaphorical use of mean, where one allows the claim that this or that expression means that p, provided that this or that utterer, in this or that standard fashion, means that p, i.e. in terms of this or that souly statee toward this or that propositional complexus this or that utterer ntends, in a standardly fashion, to produce by his uttering this or that utterance. That this or that expression means (in this metaphorical use) that p is thus explicable either in terms of this or that souly state which is standardly intended to produce in this or that addressee A by this or that utterer of this or that expression, or in this or that souly staken up by this or that utterer toward this or that activity or action of this or that utterer of this or that expression. Meaning was in the air in Oxfords linguistic turn. Everybody was talking meaning. Grice manages to quote from Hares early “Mind” essay on the difference between imperatives and indicatives, also Duncan-Jones on the fugitive proposition,  and of course his beloved Strawson. Grice was also concerned by the fact that in the manoeuvre of the typical ordinary-language philosopher, there is a constant abuse of mean. Surely Grice wants to stick with the utterers meaning as the primary use. Expressions mean only derivatively. To do that, he chose Peirce to see if he could clarify it with meaning that. Grice knew that the polemic was even stronger in London, with Ogden and Lady Viola Welby. In the more academic Oxford milieu, Grice knew that a proper examination of meaning, would lead him, via Kneale and his researches on the history of semantics, to the topic of signification that obsessed the modistae (and their modus significandi). For what does L and S say about about this? This is Grice’s reply to popular Ogden. They want to know what the meaning of meaning is? Here is the Oxononian response by Grice, with a vengeance. Grice is not an animist nor a mentalist, even modest.  While he allows for natural phenomena to mean (smoke means fire), meaning is best ascribed to some utterer, where this meaning is nothing but the intentions behind his utterance. This is the fifth James lecture. Grice was careful enough to submit it to PR, since it is a strictly philosophical development of the views expressed in Meaning which Strawson had submitted on Grice’s behalf to the same Review and which had had a series of responses by various philosophers. Among these philosophers is Strawson himself in Intention and convention in the the theory of speech acts, also in PR. Grice quotes from very many other philosophers in this essay, including: Urmson, Stampe, Strawson, Schiffer, and Searle. Strawson is especially relevant since he started a series of alleged counter-examples with his infamous example of the rat-infested house. Grice particularly treasured Stampes alleged counter-example involving his beloved bridge! Avramides earns a D. Phil Oxon. on that, under Strawson! This is Grices occasion to address some of the criticisms ‒ in the form of alleged counter-examples, typically, as his later reflections on epagoge versus diagoge note  ‒ by Urmson, Strawson, and other philosophers associated with Oxford, such as Searle, Stampe, and Schiffer. The final analysandum is pretty complex (of the type that he did find his analysis of I am hearing a sound complex in Personal identity  ‒ hardly an obstacle for adopting it), it became yet another target of attack by especially New-World philosophers in the pages of Mind, Nous, and other journals, This is officially the fifth James lecture. Grice takes up the analysis of meaning he had presented way back at the Oxford Philosophical Society. Motivated mainly by the attack by Urmson and by Strawson in Intention and convention in speech acts, that offered an alleged counter-example to the sufficiency of Grices analysis, Grice ends up introducing so many intention that he almost trembled. He ends up seeing meaning as a value-paradeigmatic concept, perhaps never realisable in a sublunary way. But it is the analysis in this particular essay where he is at his formal best. He distinguishes between protreptic and exhibitive utterances, and also modes of correlation (iconic, conventional). He symbolises the utterer and the addressee, and generalises over the type of psychological state, attitude, or stance, meaning seems to range (notably indicative vs. imperative). He formalises the reflexive intention, and more importantly, the overtness of communication in terms of a self-referential recursive intention that disallows any sneaky intention to be brought into the picture of meaning-constitutive intentions. Grice thought he had dealt with Logic and conversation enough! So he feels of revising his Meaning. After all, Strawson had had the cheek to publish Meaning by Grice and then go on to criticize it in Intention and convention in speech acts. So this is Grices revenge, and he wins! He ends with the most elaborate theory of mean that an Oxonian could ever hope for. And to provoke the informalists such as Strawson (and his disciples at Oxford – led by Strawson) he pours existential quantifiers like the plague! He manages to quote from Urmson, whom he loved! No word on Peirce, though, who had originated all this! His implicature: Im not going to be reprimanted in informal discussion about my misreading Peirce at Harvard! The concluding note is about artificial substitutes for iconic representation, and meaning as a human institution. Very grand. This is Grices metabolical projection of utterers meaning to apply to anything OTHER than utterers meaning, notably a token of the utterers expression and a TYPE of the utterers expression, wholly or in part. Its not like he WANTS to do it, he NEEDS it to give an account of implicatum. The phrase utterer is meant to provoke. Grice thinks that speaker is too narrow. Surely you can mean by just uttering stuff! This is the sixth James lecture, as published in “Foundations of Language” (henceforth, “FL”), or “The foundations of language,” as he preferred. As it happens, it became a popular lecture, seeing that Searle selected this from the whole set for his Oxford reading in philosophy on the philosophy of language. It is also the essay cited by Chomsky in his influential Locke lectures. Chomsky takes Grice to be a behaviourist, even along Skinners lines, which provoked a reply by Suppes, repr. in PGRICE. In The New World, the H. P. is often given in a more simplified form. Grice wants to keep on playing. In Meaning, he had said x means that p is surely reducible to utterer U means that p. In this lecture, he lectures us as to how to proceed. In so doing he invents this or that procedure: some basic, some resultant. When Chomsky reads the reprint in Searles Philosophy of Language, he cries: Behaviourist! Skinnerian! It was Suppes who comes to Grices defence. Surely the way Grice uses expressions like resultant procedure are never meant in the strict behaviourist way. Suppes concludes that it is much fairer to characterise Grice as an intentionalist. Published in FL, ed. by Staal, Repr.in Searle, The Philosophy of Language, Oxford, the sixth James Lecture, FL, resultant procedure, basic procedure. Staal asked Grice to publish the sixth James lecture for a newish periodical publication of whose editorial board he was a member. The fun thing is Grice complied! This is Grices shaggy-dog story. He does not seem too concerned about resultant procedures. As he will ll later say, surely I can create Deutero-Esperanto and become its master! For Grice, the primacy is the idiosyncratic, particularized utterer in this or that occasion. He knows a philosopher craves for generality, so he provokes the generality-searcher with divisions and sub-divisions of mean. But his heart does not seem to be there, and he is just being overformalistic and technical for the sake of it. I am glad that Putnam, of all people, told me in an aside, you are being too formal, Grice. I stopped with symbolism since! Communication. This is Grice’s clearest anti-animist attack by Grice. He had joins Hume in mocking causing and willing: The decapitation of Charles I as willing Charles Is death. Language semantics alla Tarski. Grice know sees his former self. If he was obsessed, after Ayer, with mean, he now wants to see if his explanation of it (then based on his pre-theoretic intuition) is theoretically advisable in terms other than dealing with those pre-theoretical facts, i.e. how he deals with a lexeme like mean. This is a bit like Grice: implicatum, revisited. An axiological approach to meaning. Strictly a reprint of Grice, which should be the preferred citation. The date is given by Grice himself, and he knew! Grice also composed some notes on Remnants on meaning, by Schiffer. This is a bit like Grices meaning re-revisited. Schiffer had been Strawsons tutee at Oxford as a Rhode Scholar in the completion of his D. Phil. on Meaning, Clarendon. Eventually, Schiffer grew sceptic, and let Grice know about it! Grice did not find Schiffers arguments totally destructive, but saw the positive side to them. Schiffers arguments should remind any philosopher that the issues he is dealing are profound and bound to involve much elucidation before they are solved. This is a bit like Grice: implicatum, revisited. Meaning revisited (an ovious nod to Evelyn Waughs Yorkshire-set novel) is the title Grice chose for a contribution to a symposium at Brighton organised by Smith. Meaning revisited (although Grice has earlier drafts entitled Meaning and philosophical psychology) comprises three sections. In the first section, Grice is concerned with the application of his modified Occam’s razor now to the very lexeme, mean. Cf. How many senses does sense have? Cohen: The Senses of Senses. In the second part, Grice explores an evolutionary model of creature construction reaching a stage of non-iconic representation. Finally, in the third section, motivated to solve what he calls a major problem ‒ versus the minor problem concerning the transition from the meaning by the utterer to the meaning by the expression. Grice attempts to construct meaning as a value-paradeigmatic notion. A version was indeed published in the proceedings of the Brighton symposium, by Croom Helm, London. Grice has a couple of other drafts with variants on this title: philosophical psychology and meaning, psychology and meaning. He keeps, meaningfully, changing the order. It is not arbitrary that the fascinating exploration by Grice is in three parts. In the first, where he applies his Modified Occams razor to mean, he is revisiting Stevenson. Smoke means fire and I mean love, dont need different senses of mean. Stevenson is right when using scare quotes for smoke ‘meaning’ fire utterance. Grice is very much aware that that, the rather obtuse terminology of senses, was exactly the terminology he had adopted in both Meaning and the relevant James lectures (V and VI) at Harvard! Now, its time to revisit and to echo Graves, say, goodbye to all that! In the second part he applies Pology. While he knows his audience is not philosophical ‒ it is not Oxford ‒ he thinks they still may get some entertainment! We have a P feeling pain, simulating it, and finally uttering, I am in pain. In the concluding section, Grice becomes Plato. He sees meaning as an optimum, i.e. a value-paradeigmatic notion introducing value in its guise of optimality. Much like Plato thought circle works in his idiolect. Grice played with various titles, in the Grice Collection. Theres philosophical psychology and meaning. The reason is obvious. The lecture is strictly divided in sections, and it is only natural that Grice kept drafts of this or that section in his collection. In WOW Grice notes that he re-visited his Meaning re-visited at a later stage, too! And he meant it! Surely, there is no way to understand the stages of Grice’s development of his ideas about meaning without Peirce! It is obvious here that Grice thought that mean two figurative or metabolical extensions of use. Smoke means fire and Smoke means smoke. The latter is a transferred use in that impenetrability means lets change the topic if Humpty-Dumpty m-intends that it and Alice are to change the topic. Why did Grice feel the need to add a retrospective epilogue? He loved to say that what the “way of words” contains is neither his first, nor his last word. So trust him to have some intermediate words to drop. He is at his most casual in the very last section of the epilogue. The first section is more of a very systematic justification for any mistake the reader may identify in the offer. The words in the epilogue are thus very guarded and qualificatory. Just one example about our focus: conversational implicate and conversation as rational co-operation. He goes back to Essay 2, but as he notes, this was hardly the first word on the principle of conversational helpfulness, nor indeed the first occasion where he actually used implicature. As regards co-operation, the retrospective epilogue allows him to expand on a causal phrasing in Essay 2, “purposive, indeed rational.” Seeing in retrospect how the idea of rationality was the one that appealed philosophers most – since it provides a rationale and justification for what is otherwise an arbitrary semantic proliferation. Grice then distinguishes between the thesis that conversation is purposive, and the thesis that conversation is rational. And, whats more, and in excellent Griceian phrasing, there are two theses here, too. One thing is to see conversation as rational, and another, to use his very phrasing, as rational co-operation! Therefore, when one discusses the secondary literature, one should be attentive to whether the author is referring to Grices qualifications in the Retrospective epilogue. Grice is careful to date some items. However, since he kept rewriting, one has to be careful. These seven folder contain the material for the compilation. Grice takes the opportunity of the compilation by Harvard of his WOW, representative of the mid-60s, i. e. past the heyday of ordinary-language philosophy, to review the idea of philosophical progress in terms of eight different strands which display, however, a consistent and distinctive unity. Grice keeps playing with valediction, valedictory, prospective and retrospective, and the different drafts are all kept in The Grice Papers. The Retrospective epilogue, is divided into two sections. In the first section, he provides input for his eight strands, which cover not just meaning, and the assertion-implication distinction to which he alludes to in the preface, but for more substantial philosophical issues like the philosophy of perception, and the defense of common sense realism versus the sceptial idealist. The concluding section tackles more directly a second theme he had idenfitied in the preface, which is a methodological one, and his long-standing defence of ordinary-language philosophy. The section involves a fine distinction between the Athenian dialectic and the Oxonian dialectic, and tells the tale about his fairy godmother, G*. As he notes, Grice had dropped a few words in the preface explaining the ordering of essays in the compilation. He mentions that he hesitated to follow a suggestion by Bennett that the ordering of the essays be thematic and chronological. Rather, Grice chooses to publish the whole set of seven James lectures, what he calls the centerpiece, as part I. II, the explorations in semantics and metaphysics, is organised more or less thematically, though. In the Retrospective epilogue, Grice takes up this observation in the preface that two ideas or themes underlie his Studies: that of meaning, and assertion vs. implication, and philosophical methodology. The Retrospective epilogue is thus an exploration on eight strands he identifies in his own philosophy. Grices choice of strand is careful. For Grice, philosophy, like virtue, is entire. All the strands belong to the same knit, and therefore display some latitudinal, and, he hopes, longitudinal unity, the latter made evidence by his drawing on the Athenian dialectic as a foreshadow of the Oxonian dialectic to come, in the heyday of the Oxford school of analysis, when an interest in the serious study of ordinary language had never been since and will never be seen again. By these two types of unity, Grice means the obvious fact that all branches of philosophy (philosophy of language, or semantics, philosophy of perception, philosophical psychology, metaphysics, axiology, etc.) interact and overlap, and that a historical regard for ones philosophical predecessors is a must, especially at Oxford. Why is Grice obsessed with asserting? He is more interested, technically, in the phrastic, or dictor. Grice sees a unity, indeed, equi-vocality, in the buletic-doxastic continuum. Asserting is usually associated with the doxastic. Since Grice is always ready to generalise his points to cover the buletic (recall his Meaning, “theres by now no reason to stick to informative cases,”), it is best to re-define his asserting in terms of the phrastic. This is enough of a strong point. As Hare would agree, for emotivists like Barnes, say, an utterance of buletic force may not have any content whatsoever. For Grice, there is always a content, the proposition which becomes true when the action is done and the desire is fulfilled or satisfied. Grice quotes from Bennett. Importantly, Grice focuses on the assertion/non-assertion distinction. He overlooks the fact that for this or that of his beloved imperative utterance, asserting is out of the question, but explicitly conveying that p is not.  He needs a dummy to stand for a psychological or souly state, stance, or attitude of either boule or doxa, to cover the field of the utterer mode-neutrally conveying explicitly that his addressee A is to entertain that p. The explicatum or explicitum sometimes does the trick, but sometimes it does not. It is interesting to review the Names index to the volume, as well as the Subjects index. This is a huge collection, comprising 14 folders. By contract, Grice was engaged with Harvard, since it is the President of the College that holds the copyrights for the James lectures. The title Grice eventually chooses for his compilation of essays, which goes far beyond the James, although keeping them as the centerpiece, is a tribute to Locke, who, although obsessed with his idealist and empiricist new way of ideas, leaves room for both the laymans and scientists realist way of things, and, more to the point, for this or that philosophical semiotician to offer this or that study in the way of words. Early in the linguistic turn minor revolution, the expression the new way of words, had been used derogatorily. WOW is organised in two parts: Logic and conversation and the somewhat pretentiously titled Explorations in semantics and metaphysics, which offers commentary around the centerpiece. It also includes a Preface and a very rich and inspired Retrospective epilogue. From part I, the James lectures, only three had not been previously published. The first unpublished lecture is Prolegomena, which really sets the scene, and makes one wonder what the few philosophers who quote from The logic of grammar could have made from the second James lecture taken in isolation. Grice explores Aristotle’s “to alethes”: “For the true and the false exist with respect to synthesis and division (peri gar synthesin kai diaireisin esti to pseudos kai to alethes).” Aristotle insists upon the com-positional form of truth in several texts: cf. De anima, 430b3 ff.: “in truth and falsity, there is a certain composition (en hois de kai to pseudos kai to alethes, synthesis tis)”; cf. also Met. 1027b19 ff.: the true and the false are with respect to (peri) composition and decomposition (synthesis kai diaresis).” It also shows that Grices style is meant for public delivery, rather than reading. The second unpublished lecture is Indicative conditionals. This had been used by a few philosophers, such as Gazdar, noting that there were many mistakes in the typescript, for which Grice is not to be blamed. The third is on some models for implicature. Since this Grice acknowledges is revised, a comparison with the original handwritten version of the final James lecture retrieves a few differences From Part II, a few essays had not been published before, but Grice, nodding to the longitudinal unity of philosophy, is very careful and proud to date them. Commentary on the individual essays is made under the appropriate dates. Philosophical correspondence is quite a genre. Hare would express in a letter to the Librarian for the Oxford Union, “Wiggins does not want to be understood,” or in a letter to Bennett that Williams is the worse offender of Kantianism! It was different with Grice. He did not type. And he wrote only very occasionally! These are four folders with general correspondence, mainly of the academic kind. At Oxford, Grice would hardly keep a correspondence, but it was different with the New World, where academia turns towards the bureaucracy. Grice is not precisely a good, or reliable, as The BA puts it, correspondent. In the Oxford manner, Grice prefers a face-to-face interaction, any day. He treasures his Saturday mornings under Austins guidance, and he himself leads the Play Group after Austins demise, which, as Owen reminisced, attained a kind of cult status. Oxford is different. As a tutorial fellow in philosophy, Grice was meant to tutor his students; as a University Lecturer he was supposed to lecture sometimes other fellowss tutees! Nothing about this reads: publish or perish! This is just one f. containing Grices own favourite Griceian references. To the historian of analytic philosophy, it is of particular interest. It shows which philosophers Grice respected the most, and which ones the least. As one might expect, even on the cold shores of Oxford, as one of Grices tutees put it, Grice is cited by various Oxford philosophers. Perhaps the first to cite Grice in print is his tutee Strawson, in “Logical Theory.” Early on, Hart quotes Grice on meaning in his review in The Philosophical Quarterly of Holloways Language and Intelligence before Meaning had been published. Obviously, once Grice and Strawson, In defense of a dogma and Grice, Meaning are published by The Philosophical Review, Grice is discussed profusely. References to the implicatum start to appear in the literature at Oxford in the mid-1960s, within the playgroup, as in Hare and Pears. It is particularly intriguing to explore those philosophers Grice picks up for dialogue, too, and perhaps arrange them alphabetically, from Austin to Warnock, say. And Griceian philosophical references, Oxonian or other, as they should, keep counting! The way to search the Grice Papers here is using alternate keywords, notably “meaning.” “Meaning” s. II, “Utterer’s meaning and intentions,” s. II, “Utterer’s meaning, sentence-meaning, and word meaning,” s. II, “Meaning revisited,” s. II. – but also “Meaning and psychology,” s. V, c.7-ff.  24-25. While Grice uses “signification,” and lectured on Peirce’s “signs,” “Peirce’s general theory of signs,” (s. V, c. 8-f. 29), he would avoid such pretentiously sounding expressions. Searching under ‘semantic’ and ‘semantics’ (“Grammar and semantics,” c. 7-f. 5; “Language semantics,” c. 7-f.20, “Basic Pirotese, sentence semantics and syntax,” c. 8-f. 30, “Semantics of children’s language,” c. 9-f. 10, “Sentence semantics” (c. 9-f. 11); “Sentence semantics and propositional complexes,” c. 9-f.12, “Syntax and semantics,” c. 9-ff. 17-18) may help, too. Folder on Schiffer (“Schiffer,” c. 9-f. 9), too.

Grice on the compactness theorem, a theorem for first-order logic: if every finite subset of a given infinite theory T is consistent, then the whole theory is consistent. The result is an immediate consequence of the completeness theorem, for if the theory were not consistent, a contradiction, say ‘P and not-P’, would be provable from it. But the proof, being a finitary object, would use only finitely many axioms from T, so this finite subset of T would be inconsistent. This proof of the compactness theorem is very general, showing that any language that has a sound and complete system of inference, where each rule allows only finitely many premises, satisfies the theorem. This is important because the theorem immediately implies that many familiar mathematical notions are not expressible in the language in question, notions like those of a finite set or a well-ordering relation. The compactness theorem is important for other reasons as well. It is the most frequently applied result in the study of first-order model theory and has inspired interesting developments within set theory and its foundations by generating a search for infinitary languages that obey some analog of the theorem. 

Grice’s complementary class, the class of all things not in a given class. For example, if C is the class of all red things, then its complementary class is the class containing everything that is not red. This latter class includes even non-colored things, like numbers and the class C itself. Often, the context will determine a less inclusive complementary class. If B 0 A, then the complement of B with respect to A is A  B. For example, if A is the class of physical objects, and B is the class of red physical objects, then the complement of B with respect to A is the class of non-red physical objects. 

Grice on completeness, a property that something  typically, a set of axioms, a logic, a theory, a set of well-formed formulas, a language, or a set of connectives  has when it is strong enough in some desirable respect. 1 A set of axioms is complete for the logic L if every theorem of L is provable using those axioms. 2 A logic L has weak semantical completeness if every valid sentence of the language of L is a theorem of L. L has strong semantical completeness or is deductively complete if for every set G of sentences, every logical consequence of G is deducible from G using L. A propositional logic L is Halldén-complete if whenever A 7 B is a theorem of L, where A and B share no variables, either A or B is a theorem of L. And L is Post-complete if L is consistent but no stronger logic for the same language is consistent. Reference to the “completeness” of a logic, without further qualification, is almost invariably to either weak or strong semantical completeness. One curious exception: second-order logic is often said to be “incomplete,” where what is meant is that it is not axiomatizable. 3 A theory T is negation-complete often simply complete if for every sentence A of the lancommon notions completeness 162   162 guage of T, either A or its negation is provable in T. And T is omega-complete if whenever it is provable in T that a property f / holds of each natural number 0, 1, . . . , it is also provable that every number has f. Generalizing on this, any set G of well-formed formulas might be called omega complete if vA[v] is deducible from G whenever A[t] is deducible from G for all terms t, where A[t] is the result of replacing all free occurrences of v in A[v] by t. 4 A language L is expressively complete if each of a given class of items is expressible in L. Usually, the class in question is the class of twovalued truth-functions. The propositional language whose sole connectives are - and 7 is thus said to be expressively or functionally complete, while that built up using 7 alone is not, since classical negation is not expressible therein. Here one might also say that the set {-,7} is expressively or functionally complete, while {7} is not. 

Completion. Grice speaks of ‘complete’ and ‘incomplete. Consider “Fido is shaggy.” That’s complete. “Fido” is incomplete – like pig. “is shaggy” is incomplete. This is Grice’s Platonism, hardly the nominalism that Bennett abuses Grice with! For the rational pirot (not the parrot) has access to a theory of complete --. When lecturing on Peirce, Grice referred to Russell’s excellent idea of improving on Peirce. “Don’t ask for the meaning of ‘red,’ ask for the meaning of ‘x is red.” Cf. Plato, “Don’t try to see horseness, try to see ‘x is a horse. Don’t be stupid.” Now “x is red” is a bit incomplete. Surely it can be rendered by the complete, “Something, je-ne-sais-quoi, to use Hume’s vulgarism, is red.” So, to have an act of referring without an act of predicating is incomplete. But still useful for philosophical analysis.

complexum: versus the ‘simplex.’ Grice starts with the simplex. All he needs is a handwave to ascribe ‘the emissor communicates that he knows the route.’ The proposition which is being transmitted HAS to be complex: Subject, “The emissor”, copula, “is,” ‘predicate: “a knower of the route.”Grice allows for the syntactically unstructured handwave to be ‘ambiguous’ so that the intention on the emissor’s part involves his belief that the emissee will take this rather than that proposition as being transmitted: Second complex: “Subject: Emissor, copula: is, predicate: about to leave the emissee.”Vide the altogether nice girl, and the one-at-a-time sailor. The topic is essential in seeing Grice within the British empiricist tradition. Empiricists always loved a simplex, like ‘red.’ In his notes on ‘Meaning’ and “Peirce,’ Grice notes that for a ‘simplex’ like “red,” the best way to deal with it is via a Russellian function, ‘x is red.’ The opposite of ‘simplex’ is of course a ‘complexum.’ hile Grice does have an essay on the ‘complexum,’ he is mostly being jocular. His dissection of the proposition proceds by considering ‘the a,’ and its denotatum, or reference, and ‘is the b,’ which involves then the predication. This is Grice’s shaggy-dog story. Once we have ‘the dog is shaggy,’ we have a ‘complexum,’ and we can say that the utterer means, by uttering ‘Fido is shaggy,’ that the dog is hairy-coated. Simple, right? It’s the jocular in Grice. He is joking on philosophers who look at those representative of the linguistic turn, and ask, “So what do you have to say about reference and predication,’ and Grice comes up with an extra-ordinary analysis of what is to believe that the dog is hairy-coat, and communicating it. In fact, the ‘communicating’ is secondary. Once Grice has gone to metabolitical extension of ‘mean’ to apply to the expression, communication becomes secondary in that it has to be understood in what Grice calls the ‘atenuated’ usage involving this or that ‘readiness’ to have this or that procedure, basic or resultant, in one’s repertoire! Bealer is one of Grices most brilliant tutees in the New World. The Grice collection contains a full f. of correspondence with Bealer. Bealer refers to Grice in his influential Clarendon essay on content. Bealer is concerned with how pragmatic inference may intrude in the ascription of a psychological, or souly, state, attitude, or stance. Bealer loves to quote from Grice on definite descriptions in Russell and in the vernacular, the implicature being that Russell is impenetrable! Bealers mentor is Grices close collaborator Myro, so he knows what he is talking about. Grice explored the matter of subperception at Oxford only with G. J. Warnock.

Grice’s complexe significabile plural: -- Grice used to say jocularly that he wasn’t commited to propositions; only to propositional complexes -- complexe significabilia, also called complexum significabile, in medieval philosophy, what is signified only by a complexum a statement or declarative sentence, by a that-clause, or by a dictum an accusative ! infinitive construction, as in: ‘I want him to go’. It is analogous to the modern proposition. The doctrine seems to have originated with Adam de Wodeham in the early fourteenth century, but is usually associated with Gregory of Rimini slightly later. Complexe significabilia do not fall under any of the Aristotelian categories, and so do not “exist” in the ordinary way. Still, they are somehow real. For before creation nothing existed except God, but even then God knew that the world was going to exist. The object of this knowledge cannot have been God himself since God is necessary, but the world’s existence is contingent, and yet did not “exist” before creation. Nevertheless, it was real enough to be an object of knowledge. Some authors who maintained such a view held that these entities were not only signifiable in a complex way by a statement, but were themselves complex in their inner structure; the term ‘complexum significabile’ is unique to their theories. The theory of complexe significabilia was vehemently criticized by late medieval nominalists.  Refs.: The main reference is in ‘Reply to Richards.’ But there is “Sentence semantics and propositional complexes,” c. 9-f. 12, BANC.

Possibility – “what is actual is not also possible – grave mistake!” – H. P. Grice. compossible, capable of existing or occurring together. E.g., two individuals are compossible provided the existence of one of them is compatible with the existence of the other. In terms of possible worlds, things are compossible provided there is some possible world to which all of them belong; otherwise they are incompossible. Not all possibilities are compossible. E.g., the extinction of life on earth by the year 3000 is possible; so is its continuation until the year 10,000; but since it is impossible that both of these things should happen, they are not compossible. Leibniz held that any non-actualized possibility must be incompossible with what is actual. 

Intension -- comprehension, as applied to a term, the set of attributes implied by a term. The comprehension of ‘square’, e.g., includes being four-sided, having equal sides, and being a plane figure, among other attributes. The comprehension of a term is contrasted with its extension, which is the set of individuals to which the term applies. The distinction between the extension and the comprehension of a term was introduced in the Port-Royal Logic by Arnauld and Pierre Nicole in 1662. Current practice is to use the expression ‘intension’ rather than ‘comprehension’. Both expressions, however, are inherently somewhat vague. 

Iron-age metaphysics: Grice on Russellian compresence, an unanalyzable relation in terms of which Russell, in his later writings especially in Human Knowledge: Its Scope and Limits, 8, took concrete particular objects to be analyzable. Concrete particular objects are analyzable in terms of complexes of qualities all of whose members are compresent. Although this relation can be defined only ostensively, Russell states that it appears in psychology as “simultaneity in one experience” and in physics as “overlapping in space-time.” Complete complexes of compresence are complexes of qualities having the following two properties: 1 all members of the complex are compresent; 2 given anything not a member of the complex, there is at least one member of the complex with which it is not compresent. He argues that there is strong empirical evidence that no two complete complexes have all their qualities in common. Finally, space-time pointinstants are analyzed as complete complexes of compresence. Concrete particulars, on the other hand, are analyzed as series of incomplete complexes of compresence related by certain causal laws. 

Grice’s computatio sive logica -- computability, roughly, the possibility of computation on a Turing machine. The first convincing general definition, A. N. Turing’s 6, has been proved equivalent to the known plausible alternatives, so that the concept of computability is generally recognized as an absolute one. Turing’s definition referred to computations by imaginary tape-processing machines that we now know to be capable of computing the same functions whether simple sums and products or highly complex, esoteric functions that modern digital computing machines could compute if provided with sufficient storage capacity. In the form ‘Any function that is computable at all is computable on a Turing machine’, this absoluteness claim is called Turing’s thesis. A comparable claim for Alonzo Church’s 5 concept of lcomputability is called Church’s thesis. Similar theses are enunciated for Markov algorithms, for S. C. Kleene’s notion of general recursiveness, etc. It has been proved that the same functions are computable in all of these ways. There is no hope of proving any of those theses, for such a proof would require a definition of ‘computable’  a definition that would simply be a further item in the list, the subject of a further thesis. But since computations of new kinds might be recognizable as genuine in particular cases, Turing’s thesis and its equivalents, if false, might be decisively refuted by discovery of a particular function, a way of computing it, and a proof that no Turing machine can compute it. The halting problem for say Turing machines is the problem of devising a Turing machine that computes the function hm, n % 1 or 0 depending on whether or not Turing machine number m ever halts, once started with the number n on its tape. This problem is unsolvable, for a machine that computed h could be modified to compute a function gn, which is undefined the machine goes into an endless loop when hn, n % 1, and otherwise agrees with hn, n. But this modified machine  Turing machine number k, say  would have contradictory properties: started with k on its tape, it would eventually halt if and only if it does not. Turing proved unsolvability of the decision problem for logic the problem of devising a Turing machine that, applied to argument number n in logical notation, correctly classifies it as valid or invalid by reducing the halting problem to the decision problem, i.e., showing how any solution to the latter could be used to solve the former problem, which we know to be unsolvable.  computer theory, the theory of the design, uses, powers, and limits of modern electronic digital computers. It has important bearings on philosophy, as may be seen from the many philosophical references herein. Modern computers are a radically new kind of machine, for they are active physical realizations of formal languages of logic and arithmetic. Computers employ sophisticated languages, and they have reasoning powers many orders of magnitude greater than those of any prior machines. Because they are far superior to humans in many important tasks, they have produced a revolution in society that is as profound as the industrial revolution and is advancing much more rapidly. Furthermore, computers themselves are evolving rapidly. When a computer is augmented with devices for sensing and acting, it becomes a powerful control system, or a robot. To understand the implications of computers for philosophy, one should imagine a robot that has basic goals and volitions built into it, including conflicting goals and competing desires. This concept first appeared in Karel C v apek’s play Rossum’s Universal Robots 0, where the word ‘robot’ originated. A computer has two aspects, hardware and programming languages. The theory of each is relevant to philosophy. The software and hardware aspects of a computer are somewhat analogous to the human mind and body. This analogy is especially strong if we follow Peirce and consider all information processing in nature and in human organisms, not just the conscious use of language. Evolution has produced a succession of levels of sign usage and information processing: self-copying chemicals, self-reproducing cells, genetic programs directing the production of organic forms, chemical and neuronal signals in organisms, unconscious human information processing, ordinary languages, and technical languages. But each level evolved gradually from its predecessors, so that the line between body and mind is vague. The hardware of a computer is typically organized into three general blocks: memory, processor arithmetic unit and control, and various inputoutput devices for communication between machine and environment. The memory stores the data to be processed as well as the program that directs the processing. The processor has an arithmetic-logic unit for transforming data, and a control for executing the program. Memory, processor, and input-output communicate to each other through a fast switching system. The memory and processor are constructed from registers, adders, switches, cables, and various other building blocks. These in turn are composed of electronic components: transistors, resistors, and wires. The input and output devices employ mechanical and electromechanical technologies as well as electronics. Some input-output devices also serve as auxiliary memories; floppy disks and magnetic tapes are examples. For theoretical purposes it is useful to imagine that the computer has an indefinitely expandable storage tape. So imagined, a computer is a physical realization of a Turing machine. The idea of an indefinitely expandable memory is similar to the logician’s concept of an axiomatic formal language that has an unlimited number of proofs and theorems. The software of a modern electronic computer is written in a hierarchy of programming languages. The higher-level languages are designed for use by human programmers, operators, and maintenance personnel. The “machine language” is the basic hardware language, interpreted and executed by the control. Its words are sequences of binary digits or bits. Programs written in intermediate-level languages are used by the computer to translate the languages employed by human users into the machine language for execution. A programming language has instructional means for carrying out three kinds of operations: data operations and transfers, transfers of control from one part of the program to the other, and program self-modification. Von Neumann designed the first modern programming language. A programming language is general purpose, and an electronic computer that executes it can in principle carry out any algorithm or effective procedure, including the simulation of any other computer. Thus the modern electronic computer is a practical realization of the abstract concept of a universal Turing machine. What can actually be computed in practice depends, of course, on the state of computer technology and its resources. It is common for computers at many different spatial locations to be interconnected into complex networks by telephone, radio, and satellite communication systems. Insofar as users in one part of the network can control other parts, either legitimately or illegitimately e.g., by means of a “computer virus”, a global network of computers is really a global computer. Such vast computers greatly increase societal interdependence, a fact of importance for social philosophy. The theory of computers has two branches, corresponding to the hardware and software aspects of computers. The fundamental concept of hardware theory is that of a finite automaton, which may be expressed either as an idealized logical network of simple computer primitives, or as the corresponding temporal system of input, output, and internal states. A finite automaton may be specified as a logical net of truth-functional switches and simple memory elements, connected to one another by computer theory computer theory idealized wires. These elements function synchronously, each wire being in a binary state 0 or 1 at each moment of time t % 0, 1, 2, . . . . Each switching element or “gate” executes a simple truth-functional operation not, or, and, nor, not-and, etc. and is imagined to operate instantaneously compare the notions of sentential connective and truth table. A memory element flip-flop, binary counter, unit delay line preserves its input bit for one or more time-steps. A well-formed net of switches and memory elements may not have cycles through switches only, but it typically has feedback cycles through memory elements. The wires of a logical net are of three kinds: input, internal, and output. Correspondingly, at each moment of time a logical net has an input state, an internal state, and an output state. A logical net or automaton need not have any input wires, in which case it is a closed system. The complete history of a logical net is described by a deterministic law: at each moment of time t, the input and internal states of the net determine its output state and its next internal state. This leads to the second definition of ‘finite automaton’: it is a deterministic finite-state system characterized by two tables. The transition table gives the next internal state produced by each pair of input and internal states. The output table gives the output state produced by each input state and internal state. The state analysis approach to computer hardware is of practical value only for systems with a few elements e.g., a binary-coded decimal counter, because the number of states increases as a power of the number of elements. Such a rapid rate of increase of complexity with size is called the combinatorial explosion, and it applies to many discrete systems. However, the state approach to finite automata does yield abstract models of law-governed systems that are of interest to logic and philosophy. A correctly operating digital computer is a finite automaton. Alan Turing defined the finite part of what we now call a Turing machine in terms of states. It seems doubtful that a human organism has more computing power than a finite automaton. A closed finite automaton illustrates Nietzsche’s law of eternal return. Since a finite automaton has a finite number of internal states, at least one of its internal states must occur infinitely many times in any infinite state history. And since a closed finite automaton is deterministic and has no inputs, a repeated state must be followed by the same sequence of states each time it occurs. Hence the history of a closed finite automaton is periodic, as in the law of eternal return. Idealized neurons are sometimes used as the primitive elements of logical nets, and it is plausible that for any brain and central nervous system there is a logical network that behaves the same and performs the same functions. This shows the close relation of finite automata to the brain and central nervous system. The switches and memory elements of a finite automaton may be made probabilistic, yielding a probabilistic automaton. These automata are models of indeterministic systems. Von Neumann showed how to extend deterministic logical nets to systems that contain selfreproducing automata. This is a very basic logical design relevant to the nature of life. The part of computer programming theory most relevant to philosophy contains the answer to Leibniz’s conjecture concerning his characteristica universalis and calculus ratiocinator. He held that “all our reasoning is nothing but the joining and substitution of characters, whether these characters be words or symbols or pictures.” He thought therefore that one could construct a universal, arithmetic language with two properties of great philosophical importance. First, every atomic concept would be represented by a prime number. Second, the truth-value of any logically true-or-false statement expressed in the characteristica universalis could be calculated arithmetically, and so any rational dispute could be resolved by calculation. Leibniz expected to do the computation by hand with the help of a calculating machine; today we would do it on an electronic computer. However, we know now that Leibniz’s proposed language cannot exist, for no computer or computer program can calculate the truth-value of every logically true-orfalse statement given to it. This fact follows from a logical theorem about the limits of what computer programs can do. Let E be a modern electronic computer with an indefinitely expandable memory, so that E has the power of a universal Turing machine. And let L be any formal language in which every arithmetic statement can be expressed, and which is consistent. Leibniz’s proposed characteristica universalis would be such a language. Now a computer that is operating correctly is an active formal language, carrying out the instructions of its program deductively. Accordingly, Gödel’s incompleteness theorems for formal arithmetic apply to computer E. It follows from these theorems that no program can enable computer E to decide of an arbitrary statecomputer theory computer theory 166   166 ment of L whether or not that statement is true. More strongly, there cannot even be a program that will enable E to enumerate the truths of language L one after another. Therefore Leibniz’s characteristica universalis cannot exist. Electronic computers are the first active or “live” mathematical systems. They are the latest addition to a long historical series of mathematical tools for inquiry: geometry, algebra, calculus and differential equations, probability and statistics, and modern mathematics. The most effective use of computer programs is to instruct computers in tasks for which they are superior to humans. Computers are being designed and programmed to cooperate with humans so that the calculation, storage, and judgment capabilities of the two are synthesized. The powers of such humancomputer combines will increase at an exponential rate as computers continue to become faster, more powerful, and easier to use, while at the same time becoming smaller and cheaper. The social implications of this are very important. The modern electronic computer is a new tool for the logic of discovery Peirce’s abduction. An inquirer or inquirers operating a computer interactively can use it as a universal simulator, dynamically modeling systems that are too complex to study by traditional mathematical methods, including non-linear systems. Simulation is used to explain known empirical results, and also to develop new hypotheses to be tested by observation. Computer models and simulations are unique in several ways: complexity, dynamism, controllability, and visual presentability. These properties make them important new tools for modeling and thereby relevant to some important philosophical problems. A humancomputer combine is especially suited for the study of complex holistic and hierarchical systems with feedback cf. cybernetics, including adaptive goal-directed systems. A hierarchical-feedback system is a dynamic structure organized into several levels, with the compounds of one level being the atoms or building blocks of the next higher level, and with cyclic paths of influence operating both on and between levels. For example, a complex human institution has several levels, and the people in it are themselves hierarchical organizations of selfcopying chemicals, cells, organs, and such systems as the pulmonary and the central nervous system. The behaviors of these systems are in general much more complex than, e.g., the behaviors of traditional systems of mechanics. Contrast an organism, society, or ecology with our planetary system as characterized by Kepler and Newton. Simple formulas ellipses describe the orbits of the planets. More basically, the planetary system is stable in the sense that a small perturbation of it produces a relatively small variation in its subsequent history. In contrast, a small change in the state of a holistic hierarchical feedback system often amplifies into a very large difference in behavior, a concern of chaos theory. For this reason it is helpful to model such systems on a computer and run sample histories. The operator searches for representative cases, interesting phenomena, and general principles of operation. The humancomputer method of inquiry should be a useful tool for the study of biological evolution, the actual historical development of complex adaptive goal-directed systems. Evolution is a logical and communication process as well as a physical and chemical process. But evolution is statistical rather than deterministic, because a single temporal state of the system results in a probabilistic distribution of histories, rather than in a single history. The genetic operators of mutation and crossover, e.g., are probabilistic operators. But though it is stochastic, evolution cannot be understood in terms of limiting relative frequencies, for the important developments are the repeated emergence of new phenomena, and there may be no evolutionary convergence toward a final state or limit. Rather, to understand evolution the investigator must simulate the statistical spectra of histories covering critical stages of the process. Many important evolutionary phenomena should be studied by using simulation along with observation and experiment. Evolution has produced a succession of levels of organization: selfcopying chemicals, self-reproducing cells, communities of cells, simple organisms, haploid sexual reproduction, diploid sexuality with genetic dominance and recessiveness, organisms composed of organs, societies of organisms, humans, and societies of humans. Most of these systems are complex hierarchical feedback systems, and it is of interest to understand how they emerged from earlier systems. Also, the interaction of competition and cooperation at all stages of evolution is an important subject, of relevance to social philosophy and ethics. Some basic epistemological and metaphysical concepts enter into computer modeling. A model is a well-developed concept of its object, representing characteristics like structure and funccomputer theory computer theory 167   167 tion. A model is similar to its object in important respects, but simpler; in mathematical terminology, a model is homomorphic to its object but not isomorphic to it. However, it is often useful to think of a model as isomorphic to an embedded subsystem of the system it models. For example, a gas is a complicated system of microstates of particles, but these microstates can be grouped into macrostates, each with a pressure, volume, and temperature satisfying the gas law PV % kT. The derivation of this law from the detailed mechanics of the gas is a reduction of the embedded subsystem to the underlying system. In many cases it is adequate to work with the simpler embedded subsystem, but in other cases one must work with the more complex but complete underlying system. The law of an embedded subsystem may be different in kind from the law of the underlying system. Consider, e.g., a machine tossing a coin randomly. The sequence of tosses obeys a simple probability law, while the complex underlying mechanical system is deterministic. The random sequence of tosses is a probabilistic system embedded in a deterministic system, and a mathematical account of this embedding relation constitutes a reduction of the probabilistic system to a deterministic system. Compare the compatibilist’s claim that free choice can be embedded in a deterministic system. Compare also a pseudorandom sequence, which is a deterministic sequence with adequate randomness for a given finite simulation. Note finally that the probabilistic system of quantum mechanics underlies the deterministic system of mechanics. The ways in which models are used by goaldirected systems to solve problems and adapt to their environments are currently being modeled by humancomputer combines. Since computer software can be converted into hardware, successful simulations of adaptive uses of models could be incorporated into the design of a robot. Human intentionality involves the use of a model of oneself in relation to others and the environment. A problem-solving robot using such a model would constitute an important step toward a robot with full human powers. These considerations lead to the central thesis of the philosophy of logical mechanism: a finite deterministic automaton can perform all human functions. This seems plausible in principle and is treated in detail in Merrilee Salmon, ed., The Philosophy of Logical Mechanism: Essays in Honor of Arthur W. Burks,0. A digital computer has reasoning and memory powers. Robots have sensory inputs for collecting information from the environment, and they have moving and acting devices. To obtain a robot with human powers, one would need to put these abilities under the direction of a system of desires, purposes, and goals. Logical mechanism is a form of mechanism or materialism, but differs from traditional forms of these doctrines in its reliance on the logical powers of computers and the logical nature of evolution and its products. The modern computer is a kind of complex hierarchical physical system, a system with memory, processor, and control that employs a hierarchy of programming languages. Humans are complex hierarchical systems designed by evolution  with structural levels of chemicals, cells, organs, and systems e.g., circulatory, neural, immune and linguistic levels of genes, enzymes, neural signals, and immune recognition. Traditional materialists did not have this model of a computer nor the contemporary understanding of evolution, and never gave an adequate account of logic and reasoning and such phenomena as goaldirectedness and self-modeling. 

conatum: Aristotle distinguishes three types of living beings: vegetables, φυτά, which possess only the ability to nourish themselves τὸ θϱεπτιϰόν; animals, ζαῷ, which possess the faculty of sensing τὸ αἰσθητιϰόν, which opens onto that of desiring, τὸ ὀϱεϰτιϰόν, to orektikon, (desdideratum); and man and — he says—any other similar or superior being, who possess in addition the ability to think, “τὸ διανοητιϰόν τε ϰαὶ νοῦς.” -- De An., 414a 29-b.orme,  the technical Stoic definition of πάθος, viz. as a particular kind of conation, or impulse (ορμή). ... 4 ' This definition (amorem ipsum conatum amicitiae faeiendae ex ... emotion and moral self-management in Galen's philosophical psychology', ..cōnātum , i, usu. in plur.: cōnāta , ōrum, n., v. conor.. The term is used by an the Wilde Reader at Oxford, that Grice once followed – until he became a neo-Prichardian instead.(philosophy) The power or act which directs or impels to effort of any kind, whether muscular or psychical. quotations 1899, George Frederick Stout, A Manual of Psychology, page 234:Any pleasing sense-experience, when it has once taken place, will, on subsequent occasions, give rise to a conation, when its conditions are only partially repeated...

conceptus: Grice obviously uses Frege’s notion of a ‘concept.’ One of Grice’s metaphysical routines is meant to produce a logical construction of a concept or generate a new concept. Aware of the act/product distinction, Grice distinguishes between the conceptum, or concept, and the conception, or conceptio. Grice allows that ‘not’ may be a ‘concept,’ so he is not tied to the ‘equine’ idea by Frege of the ‘horse.’ Since an agent can fail to conceive that his neighbour’s three-year old is an adult, Grice accepts that ‘conceives’ may take a ‘that’-clause. In ‘ordinary’ language, one does not seem to refer, say, to the concept that e = mc2, but that may be a failure or ‘ordinary’ language. In the canonical cat-on-the-mat, we have Grice conceiving that the cat is on the mat, and also having at least four concepts: the concept of ‘cat,’ the concept of ‘mat,’ the concept of ‘being on,’ and the concept of the cat being on the mat. Griceian Meinongianism -- conceivability, capability of being conceived or imagined. Thus, golden mountains are conceivable; round squares, inconceivable. As Descartes pointed out, the sort of imaginability required is not the ability to form mental images. Chiliagons, Cartesian minds, and God are all conceivable, though none of these can be pictured “in the mind’s eye.” Historical references include Anselm’s definition of God as “a being than which none greater can be conceived” and Descartes’s argument for dualism from the conceivability of disembodied existence. Several of Hume’s arguments rest upon the maxim that whatever is conceivable is possible. He argued, e.g., that an event can occur without a cause, since this is conceivable, and his critique of induction relies on the inference from the conceivability of a change in the course of nature to its possibility. In response, Reid maintained that to conceive is merely to understand the meaning of a proposition. Reid argued that impossibilities are conceivable, since we must be able to understand falsehoods. Many simply equate conceivability with possibility, so that to say something is conceivable or inconceivable just is to say that it is possible or impossible. Such usage is controversial, since conceivability is broadly an epistemological notion concerning what can be thought, whereas possibility is a metaphysical notion concerning how things can be. The same controversy can arise regarding the compossible, or co-possible, where two states of affairs are compossible provided it is possible that they both obtain, and two propositions are compossible provided their conjunction is possible. Alternatively, two things are compossible if and only if there is a possible world containing both. Leibniz held that two things are compossible provided they can be ascribed to the same possible world without contradiction. “There are many possible universes, each collection of compossibles making one of them.” Others have argued that non-contradiction is sufficient for neither possibility nor compossibility. The claim that something is inconceivable is usually meant to suggest more than merely an inability to conceive. It is to say that trying to conceive results in a phenomenally distinctive mental repugnance, e.g. when one attempts to conceive of an object that is red and green all over at once. On this usage the inconceivable might be equated with what one can “just see” to be impossible. There are two related usages of ‘conceivable’: 1 not inconceivable in the sense just described; and 2 such that one can “just see” that the thing in question is possible. Goldbach’s conjecture would seem a clear example of something conceivable in the first sense, but not the second. Grice was also interested in conceptualism as an answer to the problem of the universale. conceptualism, the view that there are no universals and that the supposed classificatory function of universals is actually served by particular concepts in the mind. A universal is a property that can be instantiated by more than one individual thing or particular at the same time; e.g., the shape of this , if identical with the shape of the next , will be one property instantiated by two distinct individual things at the same time. If viewed as located where the s are, then it would be immanent. If viewed as not having spatiotemporal location itself, but only bearing a connection, usually called instantiation or exemplification, to things that have such location, then the shape of this  would be transcendent and presumably would exist even if exemplified by nothing, as Plato seems to have held. The conceptualist rejects both views by holding that universals are merely concepts. Most generally, a concept may be understood as a principle of classification, something that can guide us in determining whether an entity belongs in a given class or does not. Of course, properties understood as universals satisfy, trivially, this definition and thus may be called concepts, as indeed they were by Frege. But the conceptualistic substantive views of concepts are that concepts are 1 mental representations, often called ideas, serving their classificatory function presumably by resembling the entities to be classified; or 2 brain states that serve the same function but presumably not by resemblance; or 3 general words adjectives, common nouns, verbs or uses of such words, an entity’s belonging to a certain class being determined by the applicability to the entity of the appropriate word; or 4 abilities to classify correctly, whether or not with the aid of an item belonging under 1, 2, or 3. The traditional conceptualist holds 1. Defenders of 3 would be more properly called nominalists. In whichever way concepts are understood, and regardless of whether conceptualism is true, they are obviously essential to our understanding and knowledge of anything, even at the most basic level of cognition, namely, recognition. The classic work on the topic is Thinking and Experience 4 by H. H. Price, who held 4. 

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

Confirmatum – disconfirmatum -- confirmation, an evidential relation between evidence and any statement especially a scientific hypothesis that this evidence supports. It is essential to distinguish two distinct, and fundamentally different, meanings of the term: 1 the incremental sense, in which a piece of evidence contributes at least some degree of support to the hypothesis in question  e.g., finding a fingerprint of the suspect at the scene of the crime lends some weight to the hypothesis that the suspect is guilty; and 2 the absolute sense, in which a body of evidence provides strong support for the hypothesis in question  e.g., a case presented by a prosecutor making it practically certain that the suspect is guilty. If one thinks of confirmation in terms of probability, then evidence that increases the probability of a hypothesis confirms it incrementally, whereas evidence that renders a hypothesis highly probable confirms it absolutely. In each of the two foregoing senses one can distinguish three types of confirmation: i qualitative, ii quantitative, and iii comparative. i Both examples in the preceding paragraph illustrate qualitative confirmation, for no numerical values of the degree of confirmation were mentioned. ii If a gambler, upon learning that an opponent holds a certain card, asserts that her chance of winning has increased from 2 /3 to ¾, the claim is an instance of quantitative incremental confirmation. If a physician states that, on the basis of an X-ray, the probability that the patient has tuberculosis is .95, that claim exemplifies quantitative absolute confirmation. In the incremental sense, any case of quantitative confirmation involves a difference between two probability values; in the absolute sense, any case of quantitative confirmation involves only one probability value. iii Comparative confirmation in the incremental sense would be illustrated if an investigator said that possession of the murder weapon weighs more heavily against the suspect than does the fingerprint found at the scene of the crime. Comparative confirmation in the absolute sense would occur if a prosecutor claimed to have strong cases against two suspects thought to be involved in a crime, but that the case against one is stronger than that against the other. Even given recognition of the foregoing six varieties of confirmation, there is still considerable controversy regarding its analysis. Some authors claim that quantitative confirmation does not exist; only qualitative and/or comparative confirmation are possible. Some authors maintain that confirmation has nothing to do with probability, whereas others  known as Bayesians  analyze confirmation explicitly in terms of Bayes’s theorem in the mathematical calculus of probability. Among those who offer probabilistic analyses there are differences as to which interpretation of probability is suitable in this context. Popper advocates a concept of corroboration that differs fundamentally from confirmation. Many real or apparent paradoxes of confirmation have been posed; the most famous is the paradox of the ravens. It is plausible to suppose that ‘All ravens are black’ can be incrementally confirmed by the observation of one of its instances, namely, a black crow. However, ‘All ravens are black’ is logically equivalent to ‘All non-black things are non-ravens.’ By parity of reasoning, an instance of this statement, namely, any nonblack non-raven e.g., a white shoe, should incrementally confirm it. Moreover, the equivalence condition  whatever confirms a hypothesis must equally confirm any statement logically equivalent to it  seems eminently reasonable. The result appears to facilitate indoor ornithology, for the observation of a white shoe would seem to confirm incrementally the hypothesis that all ravens are black. Many attempted resolutions of this paradox can be found in the literature. 

conjunctum: One has to be careful because the scholastic vocabulary also misleadingly has ‘copulatum’ for this. The ‘copulatum’ should be restricted to other usages, which Grice elaborates on ‘izzing’ and hazing. traditional parlance, one ‘pars orationis.’  Aulus Gellius writes; “What the Greeks call “sympleplegmenon” we call conjunctum or copulatum, copulative sentence. For example. The Stoic copulative sentence — sumpleplegmenon axioma — is translated by “conjunctum” or “copulatum,” for example: „P. Scipio, son of Paulus, was a consul twice and was given the honour of triumph and also performed the function of censor and was the colleague of L. Mummius during his censorship”. Here, Aulus Gellius made a noteworthy remark, referring to the value of truth of the composing propositions ■ (a Stoic problem). In keeping with the Stoics, he wrote: “If one element of the copulative sentence is false, even if all the other elements are true, the copulative sentence is false” (“in omni aiitem conjuncto si unum est mendacium etiamsi, caetera vera sunt, totum esse mendacium dicitur”). In the identification of ‘and’ with ‘Λ’ there is already a considerable distortion of the facts. ‘And’ can perform many jobs which ‘Λ’ cannot perform. It can, for instance, be used to couple nouns (“Tom and William arrived”), or adjectives (“He was hungry and thirsty”), or adverbs (“He walked slowly and painfully”); while ' . ' can be used only to couple expressions which could appear as separate sentences. One might be tempted to say that sentences in which “and” coupled words or phrases, were short for sentences in which “and” couples clauses; e.g., that “He was hungry and thirsty” was short for “He was hungry and he was thirsty.” But this is simply false. We do not say, of anyone who uses sentences like “Tom and William arrived,” that he is speaking elliptically, or using abbreviations. On the contrary, it is one of the functions of “and,” to which there is no counterpart In the case of “.,” to form plural subjects or compound predicates. Of course it is true of many statements of the forms “x and y” are/* or ' x is /and g \ that they are logically equivalent to corresponding statements of the" form * x Is /and yisf'oT^x is /and x is g \ But, first, this is a fact about the use, in certain contexts, of  “and,” to which there corresponds no rule for the use of * . '. And, second, there are countless contexts for which such an equivalence does not hold; e.g. “Tom and Mary made friends” is not equivalent to “Tom made friends and Mary made friends.” They mean, usually, quite different things. But notice that one could say “Tom and Mary made friends; but not with one another.” The implication of mutuality in the first phrase is not so strong but that it can be rejected without self-contradiction; but it is strong enough to make the rejection a slight shock, a literary effect. Nor does such an equivalence hold if we replace “made friends” by “met yesterday,” “were conversing,” “got married,” or “were playing chess.” Even “Tom and William arrived” does not mean the same as “Tom arrived and William arrived;” for the first suggests “together” and the second an order of arrival. It might be conceded that “and” has functions which “ .” has not (e.g., may carry in certain contexts an implication of mutuality which ‘.’  does not), and yet claimed that the rules which hold for “and,” where it is used to couple clauses, are the same as the rules which hold for “.” Even this is not true. By law (11), " p , q ' is logically equivalent to * q . p ' ; but “They got married and had a child” or “He set to work and found a job” are by no means logically equivalent to “They had a child and got married” or “He found a job and set to work.” One might try to avoid these difficulties by regarding ‘.’ as having the function, not of ' and ', but of what it looks like, namely a full stop. We should then have to desist from talking of statements of the forms ' p .q\ * p . J . r * &CM and talk of sets-of-statements of these forms instead. But this would not avoid all, though it would avoid some, of the difficulties. Even in a passage of prose consisting of several indicative sentences, the order of the sentences may be in general vital to the sense, and in particular, relevant (in a way ruled out by law (II)) to the truth-conditions of a set-of-statements made by such a passage. The fact is that, in general, in ordinary speech and writing, clauses and sentences do not contribute to the truthconditions of things said by the use of sentences and paragraphs in which they occur, in any such simple way as that pictured by the truth-tables for the binary connectives (' D ' * . ', 4 v ', 35 ') of the system, but in far more subtle, various, and complex ways. But it is precisely the simplicity of the way in which, by the definition of a truth-function, clauses joined by these connectives contribute to the truth-conditions of sentences resulting from the junctions, which makes possible the stylized, mechanical neatness of the logical system. It will not do to reproach the logician for his divorce from linguistic realities, any more than it will do to reproach the abstract painter for not being a representational artist; but one may justly reproach him if he claims to be a representational artist. An abstract painting may be, recognizably, a painting of something. And the identification of “.” with ‘and,’ or with a full stop, is not a simple mistake. There is a great deal of point in comparing them. The interpretation of, and rules for, “.”define a minimal linguistic operation, which we might call ‘simple conjunction’ and roughly describe as the joining together of two (or more) statements in the process of asserting them both (or all). And this is a part of what we often do with ' and ', and with the full stop. But we do not string together at random any assertions we consider true; we bring them together, in spoken or written sentences or paragraphs, only when there is some further reason for the rapprochement, e.g., when they record successive episodes in a single narrative. And that for the sake of which we conjoin may confer upon the sentences embodying the conjunction logical features at variance with the rules for “.” Thus we have seen that a statement of the form “p and q” may carry an implication of temporal order incompatible with that carried by the corresponding statement of the form “q and p.” This is not to deny that statements corresponding to these, but of the forms ‘pΛq’ and ‘qΛp’would be, if made, logically equivalent; for such statements would carry no implications, and therefore no incompatible implications, of temporal order. Nor is it to deny the point, and merit, of the comparison; the statement of the form ‘pΛq’ means at least a part of what is meant by the corresponding statement of the form ‘p and q.’ We might say:  the form ‘p q’ is an abstraction from the different uses of the form ‘p and q.’  Simple conjunction is a minimal element in colloquial conjunction. We may speak of ‘. ‘ as the conjunctive sign; and read it, for simplicity's sake, as “and” or “both … and … “I have already remarked that the divergence between the meanings given to the truth-functional constants and the meanings of the ordinary conjunctions with which they are commonly identified is at a minimum in the cases of ' ~ ' and ‘.’ We have seen, as well, that the remaining constants of the system can be defined in terms of these two. Other interdefinitions are equally possible. But since ^’ and ‘.’  are more nearly identifiable with ‘not’ and ‘and’ than any other constant with any other English word, I prefer to emphasize the definability of the remaining constants in terms of ‘ .’ and ‘~.’ It is useful to remember that every rule or law of the system can be expressed in terms of negation and simple conjunction. The system might, indeed, be called the System of Negation and Conjunction. Grice lists ‘and’ as the first binary functor in his response to Strawson. Grice’s conversationalist hypothesis applies to this central ‘connective.’ Interestingly, in his essay on Aristotle, and discussing, “French poet,” Grice distinguishes between conjunction and adjunction. “French” is adjuncted to ‘poet,’ unlike ‘fat’ in ‘fat philosopher.’  And Grice:substructural logics, metainference, implicature. Grice explores some of the issues regarding pragmatic enrichment and substructural logics with a special focus on the first dyadic truth-functor, ‘and.’ In particular, attention is given to a sub-structural “rule” pertaining to the commutativeness of conjunction, applying a framework that sees Grice as clarifying the extra material that must be taken into account, and which will referred to as the ‘implicatum.’ Grice is thus presented as defending a “classical-logical” rule that assigns commutativeness to conjunction while accounting for Strawson-type alleged counterexamples to the effect that some utterances of the schema “p and q” hardly allow for a ‘commutative’ “inference” (“Therefore, q and p”). How to proceed conservatively while allowing room for pluralism? Embracing the “classical-logical” syntactic introduction-cum-elimination and semantic interpretation of “and,” the approach by Cook Wilson in “Statement and inference” to the inferential métier of “and” is assessed. If Grice grants that there is some degree of artificiality in speaking of the meaning or sense of “and,” the polemic brings us to the realm of ‘pragmatic inference,’ now contrasted to a ‘logical inference.’ The endorsement by Grice of an ‘impoverished’ reading of conjunction appears conservative vis-à-vis not just Strawson’s ‘informalist’ picture but indeed the formalist frameworks of relevant, linear, and ordered logic. An external practical decision à la Carnap is in order, that allows for an enriched, stronger, reading, if not in terms of a conventional implicatum, as Strawson suggests. A ‘classical-logic’ reading in terms of a conversational implicatum agrees with Grice’s ‘Bootstrap,’ a methodological principle constraining the meta-language/object-language divide. Keywords: conjunction, pragmatic enrichment, H. Paul Grice, Bootstrap. “[I]n recent years, my disposition to resort to formalism has markedly diminished. This retreat may well have been accelerated when, of all people, Hilary Putnam remarked to me that I was too formal!”H.P. Grice, ‘Prejudices and predilections; which become, the life and opinions of Paul Grice,’ in Grandy & Warner, 1986:61 Keywords: metainference, substructural logics, classical logic, conjunction, H. Paul Grice, pragmatic inference; Rudolf Carnap, bootstrap, modernism, formalism, neotraditionalism, informalism, pragmatics, inference, implicature, extensional conjunction, intensional conjunction, multiplicative conjunction, additive conjunction. Grice’s approach consistent with Rudolf Carnap’s logical pluralism that allows room for the account put forward by H. Paul Grice in connection with a specific meta-inference (or second-order “… yields …”) as it may help us take an ‘external’ practical decision as to how to recapture a structural ‘rule’ of classical logic. The attempt involves a reconsideration, with a special focus on the sub-structural classical logic rules for conjunction of Grice’s ultimately metaphilosophical motivation in the opening paragraphs to “Logic and Conversation.” Grice explores stick  the first dyadic truth-functor Grice lists. In fact, it’s the first alleged divergence, between “p and q” and “p. . q” that Grice had quotes in “Prolegomena” to motivate his audience, and the example he brings up vis-à-vis an ‘alleged’ “linguistic offence” (a paradox?) that an utterer may incur by uttering “He got into bed and took his clothes off, but I don’t mean to suggest he did it in that order” (Grice 1981:186). Implicata are cancellable. In the present scheme, which justifies substructural logics, this amounts to any ‘intensional’ reading of a connective (e. g. ‘and’) being susceptible of being turned or ‘trans-formed’ into the correlative extensional one in light of the cancelling clause, which brings new information to the addressee A. This is hardly problematic if we consider that sub-structural logics do not aim to capture the ‘semantics’ of a logical constant, and that the sub-structural logical ‘enrichment’ is relevant, rather, for the constant’s ‘inferential role.’Neither is it problematic that the fact that the ‘inferential role’ of a logical constant (such as ‘and’) may change (allowing this ‘trans-formation’ from classical-logical extensional to sub-structural logical intension, given new information which will be used by the addressee A to ‘work out’ the utterer U’s meaning. The obvious, but worthemphasizing, entailment in Grice’s assertion about the “mistake” shared by Formalism and Informalism is that FORMALISM (as per the standard presentations of ‘classical logic’) does commit a mistake! Re-capturing the FORMALISM of classical logic is hardly as direct in the Griceian programme as one would assume. Grice’s ultimate meta-philosophical motivation, though, seems to be more in agreement with FORMALISM. Formalism can repair the mistake, Grice thinks, not by allowing a change in the assigning of an ‘interpretation’ rule of an empoverished “and” (““p and q” is 1 iff both p and q are 1, 0 otherwise.” (Cfr. Pap: “Obviously, I cannot prove that “(p and q) ≡ (q and p)” is tautologous (and that therefore “He got into bed and took off his clothes’ iff ‘he took of his clothes and got into bed,’) unless I first construct an adequate truth-table defining the use of “and.” But surely one of the points of constructing such a table is to ‘reproduce’ or capture’ the meaning of ‘and’ in a natural language! The proposal seems circular!) and a deductive ‘syntactics’ rule, involving the Gentzen-type elimination of ‘and’ (“ “p and q” yields “p”; and its reciprocal, “ “p and q” yields “q”.” To avoid commiting the mistake, formalism must recognise the conversational implicatum ceteris paribus derived from some constraint of rational co-operation (in particular, the desideratum or conversational maxim, “be orderly!”) and allow for some syntactical scope device to make the implicatum obvious, an ‘explicatum,’ almost (without the need to reinforce “and” into “and then”). In Grice’s examples, it may not even be a VIOLATION, but a FLOUT, of a conversational maxim or desideratum, within the observance of an overarching co-operation principle (A violation goes unnoticed; a flout is a rhetorical device. Cfr. Quintilian’s observation that Homer would often use “p & q” with the implicatum “but not in that order” left to the bard’s audience to work out). Grice’s attempt is to recapture “classical-logic” “and,” however pragmatically ‘enriched,’ shares some features with other sub-structural logics, since we have allowed for a syntactical tweak of the ‘inference’ rules; which we do via the pragmatist (rather than pragmatic) ‘implicatural’ approach to logic, highlighting one pragmatic aspect of a logic without CUT.  Grice grants that “p and q” should read “p . q” “when [“p . q” is] interpreted in the classical two-valued way.” His wording is thus consistent with OTHER ways (notably relevant logic, linear and ordered logic). Grice seems to have as one of his ‘unspeakable truths’ things like “He got into bed and took his clothes off,” “said of a man who proceeds otherwise.” After mentioning “and” “interpreted in the classical two-valued way,” Grice dedicates a full  paragraph to explore the classical logic’s manifesto. The idea is to provide a SYSTEM that will give us an algorithm to decide which formulae are theorems. The ‘logical consequence’ (or “… yields …”) relation is given a precise definition.Grice notes that “some logicians [whom he does not mention] may at some time have wanted to claim that there are in fact no such divergences [between “p and q” and “p . q”]; but such claims, if made at all, have been somewhat rashly made, and those suspected of making them have been subjected to some pretty rough handling.” “Those who concede that such divergences [do] exist” are the formalists. “An outline of a not uncharacteristic FORMALIST position may be given as follows,” Grice notes. We proceed to number the thesis since it sheds light on what makes a sub-structural logic sub-structural“Insofar as logicians are concerned with the formulation of very general patterns of VALID INFERENCE (“… yields…”) the formal device (“p . q”) possesses a decisive advantage over their natural counterpart (“p and q.”) For it will be possible to construct in terms of the formal device (“p . q”) a system of very general formulas, a considerable number of which can be regarded as, or are closely related to, a pattern of inferences the expression of which involves the device.”“Such a system may consist of a certain set of simple formulas that MUST BE ACCEPTABLE if the device has the MEANING (or sense) that has been ASSIGNED to it, and an indefinite number of further formulas, many of them less obviously acceptable (“q . p”), each of which can be shown to be acceptable if the members of the original set are acceptable.”“We have, thus, a way of handling dubiously acceptable patterns of inference (“q. p,” therefore, “p. q”) and if, as is sometimes possible, we can apply A DECISION PROCEDURE, we have an even better way.”“Furthermore, from a PHILOSOPHICAL point of view, the possession by the natural counterpart (“p and q”) of that element in their meaning (or sense), which they do NOT share with the corresponding formal device, is to be regarded as an IMPERFECTION; the element in question is an undesirable excrescence. For the presence of this element has the result that the CONCEPT within which it appears cannot be precisely/clearly defined, and that at least SOME statements involving it cannot, in some circumstances, be assigned a definite TRUTH VALUE; and the indefiniteness of this concept is not only objectionable in itself but leaves open the way to METAPHYSICS: we cannot be certain that the natural-language expression (“p and q”) is METAPHYSICALLY ‘LOADED.’”“For these reasons, the expression, as used in natural speech (“p and q”), CANNOT be regarded as finally acceptable, and may tum out to be, finally, not fully intelligible.” “The proper course is to conceive and begin to construct an IDEAL language, incorporating the formal device (“p . q”), the sentences of which will be clear, determinate in TRUTH-VALUE, and certifiably FREE FROM METAPHYSICAL IMPLICATIONS.”“The foundations of SCIENCE will now be PHILOSOPHICALLY SECURE, since the statements of the scientist will be EXPRESSIBLE (though not necessarily actually expressed) within this ideal language.”What kind of enrichment are we talking about? It may be understood as a third conjunct p_tn-l & q_tn & (t_n > t_n-l) FIRST CONJUNCT + SECOND CONJUNCT + “TEMPORAL SUCCESSION” p AND THEN q To buttress the buttressing of ‘and,’ Grice uses ‘weak’ and ‘strong’ for other operators like ‘disjunction – and his rationale for the Modified Occam’s razor would be: “A STRONGER SENSE for a truth-functional dyadic operator SHOULD NOT BE POSTULATED when A WEAK (or minimal) SENSE does, provided we add the CANCELLABLE IMPLICATUM.” Grice SIMPLIFIES semantics, but there’s no free lunch, since he now has to explain how the IMPLICATUM arises. Let’s revise the way “and,” the first ‘dyadic’ device in “Logic and Conversation,” is invoked by Grice in “Prolegomena.” “He got into bed and took his clothes off,” “said of a someone who took his clothes off and got into bed.”  Cfr. theorems ∧I = ` ∀ φ ψ• [φ; ψ] |= φ ∧ ψ  ∧E = ` ∀ φ ψ• ([φ ∧ ψ] |= φ) ∧ ([φ ∧ ψ] |= ψ)We have: He got into bed and took his clothes off (Grice, 1989:9). He took his clothes off and got into bed (Grice, 1989:9). He got into bed and took his clothes off but I don’t want to suggest that he did those things in that order (Grice, 1981:186). He first took his clothes off and then got into bed (Grice 1989:9). In invoking Strawson’s Introduction to Logical Theory, is Grice being fair? Strawson had noted, provocatively: “[The formula] “p . q’ is logically equivalent to ‘q . p’; but [the English] ‘They got married and had a child’ or ‘He set to work and found a job’ are by no means logically equivalent to ‘They had a child and got married’ or ‘He found a job and set to work.’”How easier things would have gone should Strawson have used the adjective ‘pragmatic’ that he mentions later in his treatise in connection with Grice. Strawson is sticking with the truth-functionality and thinking of ‘equivalence’ in terms of ‘iff’ – but his remark may be rephrased as involving a notion of ‘inference.’ In terms of LOGICAL INFERENCE, the premise “He got into bed and took his clothes off” YIELDS “He took off his clothes and got into bed,” even if that does NOT ‘yield’ in terms of ceteris paribus PRAGMATIC inference. It would  have pleased Grice to read the above as: “[The formula] “p . q’ is equivalent_L to ‘q . p’; but [the English] ‘They got married and had a child’ or ‘He set to work and found a job’ are by no means equivalent_P to ‘They had a child and got married’ or ‘He found a job and set to work.’” By appealing to a desideratum of rational co-operative discourse, “be orderly,” Grice thinks he can restore “and” to its truth-functional sense, while granting that the re-inforced “then” (or an alleged extra sense of “temporal succession,” as he has it in “Prolegomena”) is merely and naturally (if cancellable on occasion) conversationally implicated (even if under a generalised way) under the assumption that the addressee A will recognise that the utterer U is observing the desideratum, and is being orderly. But witness variants to the cancellation (3) above. There is an indifferent, indeterminate form: He got into bed and took off his clothes, though I don’t mean to imply that he did that in that order.versus the less indeterminate He got into bed and took his clothes off, but not in that order. +> i.e. in the reverse one.Postulating a pragmatic desideratum allows Grice to keep any standard sub-structural classical rule for “and” and “&” (as s he does when he goes more formalist in “Vacuous Names,” his tribute to Quine).How are to interpret the Grice/Strawson ‘rivalry’ in meta-inference? Using Frege’s assertion “⊦_LK” as our operator to read “… yields…” we have:p & q ⊦_LK q & p and q & p ⊦_LK p & q. In “Prolegomena,” then, Grice introduces:“B. Examples involve an area of special interest to me [since he was appointed logic tutor at St. John’s], namely that of expressions which are candidates for being natural analogues to logical constants and which may, or may not, ‘diverge’ in meaning [not use] from the related constants (considered as elements in a classical logic, standardly interpreted). It has, for example, been suggested that because it would be incorrect or inappropriate [or misleading, even false?] to say “He got into bed and took off his clothes” of [someone] who first took off his clothes and then got into bed, it is part of the meaning [or sense] or part of one meaning [sub-sense] of “and” to convey temporal succession” (Grice 1989:8). The explanation in terms of a reference to “be orderly” is mentioned in “Presupposition and conversational implicature” (Grice 1981:186). Grice notes: “It has been suggested by [an informalist like] Strawson, in [An] Introduction to Logical Theory [by changing the title of Strawson’s essay, Grice seems to be implicating that Strawson need not sound pretentious] that there is a divergence between the ordinary use or meaning of ‘and’ and the conjunction sign [“.”] of propositional or predicate calculus because “He took off his clothes and got into to bed” does not seem to have the same meaning as “He got into bed and took off his clothes.”” Grice goes on: “[Strawson’s] suggestion here is, of course, that, in order properly to represent the ordinary use of [the word] “and,” one would have to allow a special sense (or sub-sense) for [the word] “and” which contained some reference to the idea that what was mentioned before [the word] “and” was temporally prior to what was mentioned after it, and that, on that supposition, one could deal with this case.”Grice goes on: “[Contra Strawson,] I want to suggest in reply that it is not necessary [call him an Occamist, minimalist] if one operates on some general principle [such as M. O. R., or Modified Occam’s Razor] of keeping down, as far as possible, the number of special sense [sic] of words that one has to invoke, to give countenance to the alleged divergence of meaning.” The constraint is not an arbitrary assignation of sense, but a rational one derived from the nature of conversation:“It is just that there is a general supposition [which would be sub-sidiary to the general maxim of Manner or ‘Modus’ (‘be perspicuous! [sic]’) that one presents one's material in an orderly manner and, if what one is engaged upon is a narration (if one is talking about events), then the most orderly manner for a narration of events is an order that corresponds to the order in which they took place.”Grice concludes: “So, the meaning of the expression ‘He took off his clothes and he got into bed” and the corresponding expression with a [classical] logician's constant "&" [when given a standard two-valued interpretation] (i.e. “He took his clothes off & he got into bed") would be exactly the same.”Grice’s indifference with what type of formalism to adopt is obvious: “And, indeed, if anybody actually used in ordinary speech the "&" as a piece of vocabulary instead of as a formal(ist) device, and used it to connect together sentences of this type, they would collect just the same [generalised conversational] implicata as the ordinary English sentences have without any extra explanation of the meaning of the word ‘and’.” It is then that Grice goes on to test the ‘cancellability,’ producing the typical Gricean idiom,  above:He took his clothes off and got into bed but I don't mean to suggest that he did those things in that order.  Grice goes on: “I should say that I did suggest, in [my essay] on implicature, two sorts of  tests by which  one might hope to identify a conversational implicature. [...] I did not mean to suggest that these tests were final, only that they were useful. One test was the possibility of cancellation; that is to say, could one without [classical] logical absurdity [when we have a standard two-valued interpretation], attach a cancellation clause. For instance, could I say (9)?” Grice: “If that is not a linguistic offense [and ‘false’], or does not seem to be, then, so far as it goes, it is an indication that what one has here is a conversational implicature, and that the original [alleged meaning, sense, or] suggestion of temporal succession [is] not part of the conventional meaning of the sentence.” Grice (1981, p. 186). Formalising the temporal succession is never enough but it may help, and (9) becomes (10):p & q and p_tn-l & q_tn where “tn-l” is a temporal index for a time prior to “tn”. It is interesting to note that Chomsky, of all people, in 1966, a year before Grice’s William James lectures, in Aspects of the theory of syntax refers to “A [sic] P. Grice” as propounding that temporal succession be considered implicature (Since this pre-dates the William James lectures by a year, it was via the seminars at Oxford that reached Chomsky at MIT via some of Grice’s tutees).Let us revise Urmson’s wording in his treatment of the ‘clothes’ example, to check if Grice is being influenced by Urmson’s presentation of the problem to attack Strawson. Urmson notes: “In formal[ist] logic, the connective[…] ‘and’ [is] always given a minimum [empoverished] meaning, as [I] have done above, such that any complex [molecular sentence] formed by the use of [it] alone is [always] a truth-function of its constituents.”Urmson goes on to sound almost like Strawson, whose Introduction to Logical Theory he credits. Urmson notes: “In ordinary discourse the connective[… ‘and]] often [has] a *richer* meaning.”Urmson must be credited, with this use of ‘richer’ as the father of pragmatic enRICHment!Urmson goes on: “Thus ‘He took his clothes off and got into bed’ implies temporal succession and has a different meaning from [the impoverished, unreinforced] ‘He got into bed and took off his clothes.’” Urmson does not play with Grice’s reinforcement: “He first got into bed and then took his clothes off.’ Urmson goes on, however, in his concluding remark, to side with Grice versus Strawson, as he should! Urmson notes: “[Formal(ist) l]ogicians would justify their use of the minimum [impoverished, unreinforced, weak] meaning by pointing out that it is the common element in all our uses [or every use] of ‘and.’” (Urmson, 1956:9-10). The commutativeness of ‘and’ in the examples he gives is rejected by Strawson.  How does Strawson reflect this in his sub-structural rule for ‘and’? As Humberstone puts it, “It is possible to define a version of the calculus, which defines most of the syntax of the logical operators by means of axioms, and which uses only one inference rule.”Axioms: Let φ, χ and ψ stand for well-formed formulae. The wff's themselves would not contain any Greek letters, but only capital Roman letters, connective operators, and parentheses. The axioms include:AND_{FIRST-CONJUNCT}: φ ∧ χ → φ and AND_{SECOND-CONJUNCT}: φ ∧ χ → χ. Our (13) and (14) correspond to Gentzen’s “conjunction elimination” (or (& -), as Grice has it in “Vacuous Names.”).  The relation between (13) and (14) reflects the commutativity of the conjunction operator. Cfr. Cohen 1971: “Another conversational maxim of Grice's, “be orderly”, is intended to govern such matters as the formalist can show that it was not appropriate to postulate a special non-commutative temporal conjunction.”“The locus classicus for complaints of this nature being Strawson (1952).” Note that the commutative “and” is derived from Grice’s elimination of conjunction, “p & q ⊦ p” and “p & q ⊦ q -- as used by Grice in his system Q.Also note that the truth-evaluation would be for Grice ‘semantic,’ rather than ‘syntactic’ as the commutative (understood as part of elimination). Grice has it as: If phi and psi are formulae, “φ and ” is 1 iff both φ and ψ are true, 0 otherwise. Grice grants that however “baffling” (or misleading) would be to utter or assert (7) if no one has doubts about the temporal order of the reported the events, due to the expectation that the utterer is observing the conversational maxim “be orderly” subsumed under the conversational category of ‘Modus’ (‘be perspicuous! [sic]” – cfr. his earlier desideratum of conversational clarity). Relevant logic (which was emerging by the time Grice was delivering his William James lectures) introduces two different formal signs for ‘conjunction’: the truth-functional conjunction relevant logicians call ‘extensional’ conjunction, and they represent by (13). Non-truth-functional conjunction is represented by ‘X’ and termed fusion or ‘intensional’ conjunction: p  ^ q  versus p X q. The truth-table for Strawson’s enriched uses of “and” is not the standard one, since we require the additional condition that “p predates q,” or that one conjunct predates the other. Playing with structural and substructural logical rules is something Carnap would love perhaps more than Grice, and why not, Strawson? They liked to play with ‘deviant’ logics. For Carnap, the choice of a logic is a pragmatic ‘external’ decision – vide his principle of tolerance and the rather extensive bibliography on Carnap as a logic pluralist. For Grice, classical logic is a choice guided by his respect for ordinary language, WHILE attempting to PROVOKE the Oxonian establishment by rallying to the defense of an under-dogma and play the ‘skilful heretic’ (turning a heterodoxy into dogma). Strawson is usually more difficult to classify! In his contribution to Grandy & Warner (1986), he grants that Grice’s theory may be ‘more beautiful,’ and more importantly, seems to suggest that his view be seen as endorsing Grice’s account of a CONVENTIONAL implicature (For Strawson, ‘if’ (used for unasserted antecedent and consequence) conventionally implicates the same inferrability condition that ‘so’ does for asserted equivalents. The aim is to allow for a logically pluralist thesis, almost alla Carnap about the ‘inferential role’ of a logical constant such as ‘and’, which embraces ‘classical,’ (or ‘formalist,’ or ‘modernist’), relevant, linear and ordered logic. PLURALISM (versus MONISM) has it that, for any logical constant c (such as “and”), “c” has more than one *correct* inferential “role.” The pluralist thesis depends on a specific interpretation of the vocabulary of sub-structural logics. According to this specific interpretation, a classical logic captures the literal, or EXPLICIT, explicatum, or truth-functional or truth-conditonal meaning, or what Grice would have as ‘dictiveness’ of a logical constant. A sub-structural logic (relevant logic, linear and ordered logic), on the other hand, encodes a pragmatically,” i.e. not SEMANTICALLY, “-enriched sense” of a logical constant such as “and.” Is this against the spirit of Grice’s overall thesis as formulated in his “M. O. R.,” Modified Occam’s Razor, “Senses [of ‘and’] are not to be multiplied beyond necessity”? But it’s precisely Grice’s Occamism (as Neale calls it) that is being put into question.  At Oxford, at the time, EVERYBODY (except Grice!) was an informalist. He is coming to the defense of Russell, Oxford’s underdog! (underdogma!). Plus, it’s important to understand the INFORMALISM that Grice is attacking – Oxford’s ORTHO-doxy – seriously. Grice is being the ‘skilful HERETIC,’ in the words of his successor as Tutorial Fellow at Oxford, G. P. Baker. We may proceed by four stages.  First, introduce the philosophical motivation for the pluralist thesis. It sounds good to be a PLURALIST. Strawson was not. He was an informalist. Grice was not, he was a post-modernist. But surely we not assuming that one would want to eat the cake and have it! Second, introduce the calculus for the different (or ‘deviant,’ as Haack prefers) logics endorsed in the pluralist thesis – classical itself, relevant, linear and ordered logic. Third, shows how the different “behaviours” of an item of logical vocabulary (such as “and”) of each of these logics (and they all have variants for ‘conjunction.’ In the case of ‘relevant’ logic, beyond Grice’s “&,” or classical conjunction, there is “extensional conjunction,” FORMALISED as “p X q”, or fusion, and “INTENSIONAL conjunction,” formalized by “p O q”. These can be, not semantically (truth-functionally, or truth-conditional, or at the level of the EXPLICATUM), but pragmatically interpreted (at the level of the IMPLICATUM). Fourth, shows how the *different* (or ‘deviant,’ or pluralist), or alternative inferential “roles” (that justifies PLURALISM) that *two* sub-structural logics (say, Grice’s classical “&” the Strawson’s informalist “and”) attribute to a logical constant “c” can co-exist – hence pluralism. A particular version of logical “pluralism” can be argued from the plurality of at least *two* alterative equally legitimate formalisations of the logical vocabulary, such as the first dyadic truth-functor, or connective, “and,” which is symbolized by Grice as “&,” NOT formalized by Strawson (he sticks with “and”) and FORMALISED by relevant logicians as ‘extensional’ truth-functional conjunction (fision, p X a) and intentional non-truth-functional conjunction (p O q).  In particular, it can be argued that the apparent “rivalry” between classical logic (what Grice has as Modernism, but he himself is a post-modernist) and relevant logic (but consider Grice on Strawson’s “Neo-Traditionalism,” first called INFORMALISM by Grice) can be resolved, given that both logics capture and formalise normative and legitimate alternative senses of ‘logical consequence.’  A revision of the second paragraph to “Logic and Conversation” should do here. We can distinguish between two operators for “… yields …”: ├ and ├: “A1, A2, … An├_{MODERNISM/FORMALISM-PAUL} B” and “A1, A2, … An├_{NEO-TRADITIONALISM/INFORMALISM-PETER} B. As Paoli has it: “[U]pholding weakening amounts to failing to take at face value the [slightly Griceian] expression ‘assertable on the basis of’.’”Paoli goes on:“If I am in a position to assert [the conclusion q, “He took his clothes off and got into bed”] on the basis of the information provided by [the premise p, “He got into bed and took his clothes off”], I need NOT be in a position to assert the conclusion P [“He took his clothes off and got into bed”] on the basis of both p (“He got into bed and took off his clothes” and an extra premise C - where C is just an idle assumption (“The events took place in the order reported”) , irrelevant to my conclusion.”Can we regard Strawson as holding that UNFORMALISED “and” is an INTENSIONAL CONJUNCTION? Another option is to see Strawson as holding that the UNFORMALISED “and” can be BOTH truth-functional and NON-truth-functional (for which case, the use of a different expression, “and THEN,” is preferred). The Gricean theory of implicature is capable of explaining this mismatch (bewtween “and” and “&”).Grice argues that the [truth-conditional, truth-functional] semantics [DICTUM or EXPLICATUM, not IMPLICATUM – cfr. his retrospective epilogue for his view on DICTIVENESS] of “and” corresponds [or is identical, hence the name of ‘identity’ thesis versus ‘divergence’ thesis] to the classical “∧,” & of Russell/Whitehead, and Quine, and Suppes, and that the [truth-functional semantics of “if [p,] [q]” corresponds to the classical p ⊃ q.” There is scope for any theory capable of resolving or [as Grice would have it] denying the apparent disagreement [or ‘rivalry’] among two or more logics.” What Grice does is DENY THE APPARENT DISAGREEMENT.  It’s best to keep ‘rivalry’ for the fight of two ‘warring camps’ like FORMALISM and INFORMALISM, and stick with ‘disagreement’ or ‘divergence’ with reference to specific constants. For Strawson, being a thorough-bred Oxonian, who perhaps never read the Iliad in Greek – he was Grice’s PPE student – the RIVALRY is not between TWO different formalisations, but between the ‘brusque’ formalisation of the FORMALISTS (that murder his English!) and NO FORMALISATION at all. Grice calls this ‘neo-traditionalist,’ perhaps implicating that the ‘neo-traditionalists’ WOULD accept some level of formalisation (Aristotle did!) ONLY ONE FORMALISATION, the Modernism. INFORMALISM or Neo-Traditionalism aims to do WITHOUT formalisation, if that means using anything, but, say, “and” and “and then”. Talk of SENSES helps. Strawson may say that “and” has a SENSE which differs from “&,” seeing that he would find “He drank the poison and died, though I do not mean to imply in that order” is a CONTRADICTION. That is why Strawson is an ‘ordinary-LANGUAGE philosopher,” and not a logician! (Or should we say, an ‘ordinary-language logician’? His “Introduction to Logical Theory” was the mandatory reading vademecum for GENERATIONS of Oxonians that had to undergo a logic course to get their M. A. Lit. Hum.Then there’s what we can call “the Gricean picture,” only it’s not too clear who painted it!We may agree that there is an apparent “mismatch,” as opposed to a perfect “match” that Grice would love! Grice thought with Russell that grammar is a pretty good guide to logical form. If the utterer says “and” and NOT “and then,” there is no need to postulate a further SENSE to ‘and.’Russell would criticize Strawson’s attempt to reject modernist “&” as a surrogate for “and” as Strawson’s attempt to regress to a stone-age metaphysics. Grice actually at this point, defended Strawson: “stone-age PHYSICS!”  And this relates to “… yields…” and Frege’s assertion “/-“ as ‘Conclusion follows from Premise’ where ‘Premise yields Conclusion’ seems more natural in that we preserve the order from premise to conclusion. We shouldn’t underestimate one crucial feature of an implicatum: its cancellability, on which Grice expands quite a bit in 1981: “He got into bed and took his clothes off, although I don’t intend to suggest, in any shape or form, that he proceed to do those things in the order I’ve just reported!”The lack of any [fixed, rigid, intolerant] structural rule implies that AN INSTANCE I1 of the a logical constant (such as “and”) that *violate* any of Grice’s conversational maxim (here “be orderly!”) associated with the relevant structural rule [here we may think of ADDITION AND SIMPLIFICATION as two axioms derived from the Gentzen-type elimination of “and”, or the ‘interpretation’ of ‘p & q’ as 1 iff both p and q are 1, but 0 otherwise] and for which the derived conversational implicature is false [“He went to bed and took his clothes off, but not in that order!”] should be distinguished from ANY INSTANCE I2 that does NOT violate the relevant maxim (“be orderly”) and for which the conversational IMPLICATUM (“tn > tn-l”) is true.” We may nitpick here.Grice would rather prefer, ‘when the IMPLICATUM applies.” An implicatum is by definition cancellable (This is clear when Grice expands in the excursus “A causal theory of perception.” “I would hardly be said to have IMPLIED that Smith is hopeless in philosophy should I utter, “He has beautiful handwriting; I don’t mean to imply he is hopeless in philosophy,” “even if that is precisely what my addressee ends up thinking!”When it comes to “and,” we are on clearer ground. The kinds of “and”-implicatures may be captured by a distinction of two ‘uses’ of conjunctions in a single substructural system S that does WITHOUT a ‘structural rule’ such as exchange, contraction or both. Read, relies, very UNLIKE Strawson, on wo FORMALISATIONS besides “and” (for surely English “and” does have a ‘form,’ too, pace Strawson) in Relevant Logic: “p ^ q” and “p X q.”  “p ^ q” and “p X q” have each a different inferential role. If the reason the UTTERER has to assert it – via the DICTUM or EXPLICATUM [we avoid ‘assert’ seeing that we want logical constants to trade on ‘imperative contexts,’ too – Grice, “touch the beast and it will bite you!” -- is the utterer’s belief that Smith took his clothes AND THEN got into bed, it would be illegitimate, unwarranted, stupid, otiose, incorrect, inappropriate, to infer that Smith did not do these two things in that order upon discovering that he in fact DID those things in the order reported.  The very discovery that Smith did the things in the order reported would “just spoil” or unwarrant the derivation that would justify our use of “… yields …” (¬A ¬(A u B) A ¬B”). As Read notes, we have ADJUNCTION ‘p and q’ follows from p and q – or p and q yields ‘p and q.’  And we have SIMPLIFICATION: p and q follow from ‘p and q,’ or ‘p and q’ yields p, and ‘p and q’ yields q.” Stephen Read: “From adjunction and simplification we can infer, by transitivity, that q follows from p and q, and so by the Deduction Equivalence, ‘if p, q’ follows from q.’” “However, […] this has the unacceptable consequence that ‘if’ is truth-functional.”  “How can this consequence be avoided?” “Many options are open.” “We can reject the transitivity of entailment, the deduction equivalence, adjunction, or simplification. Each has been tried; and each seems contrary to intuition.” “We are again in the paradoxical situation that each of these conceptions seems intuitively soundly based; yet their combination appears to lead to something unacceptable.” “Are we nonetheless forced to reject one of these plausible principles?” “Fortunately, there is a fifth option.” Read: “There is a familiar truth-functional conjunction, expressed by ‘p and q’, which entails each of p and q, and so for the falsity (Grice’s 0) of which the falsity of either conjunct suffices, and the truth of both for the truth of the whole.” “But there is also a NON-truth-functional conjunction, a SENSE of ‘p and q’ whose falsity supports the inference from p to ‘~q’.” “These two SENSES of ‘conjunction’ cannot be the same, for, if the ground for asserting ‘not-(p and q)’ (e.g. “It is not the case that he got into bed and took off his clothes”) is simply that ‘p’ is false, to learn that p is true, far from enabling one to proceed to ‘~q’, undercuts the warrant for asserting ‘~(p & q)’ in the first place.” “In this sense, ‘~(p & q)’ is weaker than both ‘~p’ and ‘~q’, and does not, even with the addition of p, entail ‘~q’, even though one possible ground for asserting ‘~(p & q))’, viz ‘~q’, clearly does.” Stephen Read: “The intensional sense of ‘and’ is often referred to as fusion; I will use the symbol ‘×’ for it. Others write ‘◦.’”We add some relevant observations by a palaeo-Griceian: Ryle. Ryle often felt himself to be an outsider. His remarks on “and” are however illuminating in the context of our discussion of meta-inference in substructural logic.Ryle writes: “I have spoken as if our ordinary ‘and’ […] [is] identical with the logical constant with which the formal logician operates.”“But this is not true.”“The logician’s ‘and’ […] [is] not our familiar civilian term[…].”“It is [a] conscript term, in uniform and under military discipline, with memories, indeed, of [its] previous more free and easy civilian life, though it is not leaving that life now.”“If you hear on good authority that she took arsenic and fell ill you will reject the rumour that she fell ill and took arsenic.”“This familiar use of ‘and’ carries with it the temporal notion expressed by ‘and subsequently’ and even the causal notion expressed by ‘and in consequence.’”“The logician’s conscript ‘and’ does only its appointed duty – a duty in which ‘she took arsenic and fell ill’ is an absolute paraphrase of ‘she fell ill and took arsenic.’ This might be call the minimal force of ‘and.’” (Ryle,, 1954:118). When we speaks of PRAGMATIC enrichment, we obviously don’t mean SEMANTIC enrichment. There is a distinction, obviously, between the ‘pragmatic enrichment’ dimension, as to whether the ‘enriched’ content is IMPLICATED or, to use a neologism, ‘EX-plicated.’ Or cf. as Kent Bach would prefer, “IMPLICITATED” (vide his “Implciture.”) Commutative law: p & q iff q & p. “Axiom AND-1” and “Axiom AND-2” correspond to "conjunction elimination". The relation between “AND-1” and “AND-2” reflects the commutativity of the conjunction operator. A VERY IMPORTANT POINT to consider is Grice’s distinction between ‘logical inference’ and ‘pragmatic inference.’ He does so in “Retrospective Epilogue” in 1987. “A few years after the appearance of […] Introduction to Logical Theory, I was devoting much attention to what might be loosely called the distinction between logical and pragmatic inferences. … represented as being a matter not of logical but of pragmatic import.” (Grice 1987:374).Could he be jocular? He is emphasizing the historical role of his research. He mentions FORMALISM and INFORMALISM and notes that his own interest in maxims or desiderata of rational discourse arose from his interest to distinguish between matters of “logical inference” from those of “pragmatic inference.” Is Grice multiplying ‘inference’ beyond necessity? It would seem so. So it’s best to try to reformulate his proposal, in agreement with logical pluralism.By ‘logical inference’ Grice must mean ‘practical/alethic satisfactoriness-based inference,’ notably the syntactics and semantics (‘interpretative’) modules of his own System Q. By ‘pragmatic inference’ he must mean a third module, the pragmatic module, with his desiderata. We may say that for Grice ‘logical inference’ is deductive (and inductive), while ‘pragmatic inference’ is abductive. Let us apply this to the ‘clothes off’ exampleThe Utterer said: “Smith got into bed and took his clothes off, but I’m reporting the events in no particular order.” The ‘logical inference’ allows to treat ‘and’ as “&.” The ‘pragmatic inference’ allows the addressee to wonder what the utterer is meaning! Cf. Terres on “⊢_k” for “logical inference” and “⊢_r,” “⊢_l,” and “⊢_o,” for pragmatic inference, and where the subscripts “k,” “r,” “l” and “o” stand for ‘classical,’ ‘relevant,’ ‘linear’ and ‘ordered’ logic respectively, with each of the three sub-structural notions of “follows from” or “… yields …”  require the pragmatic enrichment of a logical constant, that ‘classical logical’ inference may retain the ‘impoverished’ version (Terres, 2019, Inquiry, p. 13). Grice himself mentions this normative dimension: “I would like to be able to think of the standard type of conversational practice not merely as something that all or most do IN FACT follow but as something that it is REASONABLE for us to follow, that we SHOULD NOT abandon.”Grice, 1989a, p.48]However, the fact that we should observe the conversational maxims may not yet be a reason for endorsing the allegedly ‘deviant’ inferential role of a logical constant in the three sub-structural logics under examination.The legitimacy of the ‘deviant’ ‘inferential role’ of each constant in each sub-structural logic emerges, rather from at least two sources.A first source is a requirement for logic (or reasoning) to be normative: that its truth-bearers [or satisfactoriness-bearers, to allow for ‘imperative’-mode inferences) are related to what Grice calls ‘psychological attitudes’ of ‘belief’ (indicative-mode inference) and ‘desire’ (imperative-mode inference) (Grice, 1975, cfr. Terres, Inquiry, 2019, p. 13). As Steinberg puts it:“Presumably, if logic is normative for thinking or reasoning, its normative force will stem, at least in part, from the fact that truth bearers which act as the relata of our consequence relation and the bearers of other logical properties are identical to (or at least are very closely related in some other way) to the objects of thinking or reasoning: the contents of one’s mental states or acts such as the content of one’s beliefs or inferences, for example.”[Steinberger, 2017a – and cf. Loar’s similar approach when construing Grice’s maxims as ‘empirical generalisations’ of ‘functional states’ for a less committed view of the embedding of logical and pragmatic inference within the scope of psychological-attitude ascriptions). A second source for the legitimacy of the ‘deviant’ inferential role is the fact that the pragmatic enrichment of the logical vocabulary (both a constant and ‘… yields …) is part, or a ‘rational-construction,’ of our psychological representation of certain utterances involving the natural counterparts of those constants.  This may NOT involve a new sense of ‘and’ which is with what Grice is fighting. While the relevant literature emphasizes “reasons to assert” (vide Table on p. 9, Terres, 2019), it is worth pointing out that the model should be applicable to what we might broadly construe as ‘deontic’ reasoning (e.g. Grice on “Arrest the intruder!” in Grice 1989, and more generally his practical syllogisms in Grice 2001). We seem to associate “assert” with ‘indicative-mode’ versions only of premise and conclusion. “Reasons to express” or “reasons to make it explicit” may serve as a generalization to cover both “indicative-mode” and “imperative-mode” versions of the inferences to hand. When Grice says that, contra Strawson, he wants to see things in terms of ‘pragmatic inference,’ not ‘logical inference,’ is he pulling himself up by his own bootstraps? Let us clarify.When thinking of what META-language need be used to formulate both Grice’s final account vis-à-vis Strawson’s, it is relevant to mention that Grice once invoked what he called the “Bootstrap” principle. In the course of considering a ‘fine distinction’ in various levels of conceptual priority, slightly out of the blue, he adds – this is from “Prejudices and predilections, which become, the life and opinions of Paul Grice,” so expect some informality, and willingness to amuse: “It is perhaps reasonable to regard such fine distinctions as indispensable if we are to succeed in the business of pulling ourselves up by our own bootstraps,” Grice writes. And then trust him to add: “In this connection, it will be relevant for me to say that I once invented (though I did not establish its validity) a principle which I labelled as ‘Bootstrap.’” Trust him to call with a good title. “The principle,” Grice goes on, “laid down that, when one is introducing some primitive concept [such as conjunction] of a theory [or calculus or system] formulated in an object-language [G₁], one has freedom to use any concept from a battery of concepts expressible in the meta-language [System G₂], subject to the condition that a *counterpart* of such a concept [say, ‘conjunction’] is sub-sequently definable, or otherwise derivable, in the object-language [System G₁].”Grice concludes by emphasizing the point of the manoeuvre:  “So, the more economically one introduces a primitive object-language concept, the less of a task one leaves oneself for the morrow.” [Grice 1986]. With uncharacteristic humbleness, Grice notes that while he was able to formulate and label “Bootstrap,” he never cared to establish its ‘validity.’ We hope we have! “Q. E. D.,” as they say! Cf. Terres, 2019, Inquiry, p. 17: In conclusion, the pragmatic interpretation of substructural logics may be a new and interesting research field for the logical pluralist who wishes to endorse classical and/or substructural logics, but also for the logical monist who aims to interpret their divergence with a pluralist logician. The possibility is also open of an interesting dialogue between philosophical logicians and philosophers of language as they explore the pragmatic contributions of a logical constant to the meaning of a complete utterance, given that a substructural logic encodes what has been discussed by philosophers of language, the enriched ‘explicatum’ of the logical constant. And Grice.  References: Werner Abraham, ‘A linguistic approach to metaphor.’ in Abraham, Ut videam: contributions to an understanding of linguistics. Jeffrey C. Beall and Greg Restall. ‘Logical consequence,’ in Edward N. Zalta, editor, The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Fall 2009 edition, 2009. Rudolf Carnap, 1942. Introduction to Semantics. L.J. Cohen, 1971. Grice on the logical particles of natural language, in Bar-Hillel, Pragmatics of Natural language, repr. in Cohen, Language and knowledge.L.J. Cohen, 1977. ‘Can the conversationalist hypothesis be defended?’ Philosophical Studies, repr. in Cohen, Logic and knowledge. Davidson, Donald and J. Hintikka (1969). Words and objections: essays on the work of W. V. Quine. Dordrecht: Reidel. Bart Geurts, Quantity implicatures.Bart Geurts and Nausicaa Pouscoulous. Embedded implicatures?!? Semantics and pragmatics, 2:4–1, 2009.Jean-Yves Girard. Linear logic: its syntax and semantics. London Mathematical Society Lecture Note Series, pp. 1–42, 1995.H.P. Grice. 1967a. ‘Prolegomena,’ in Studies in the Way of Words.H.P. Grice. 1967b. Logic and conversation. Studies in the Way of Words, Harvard University Press, Cambridge, MA, pages 22–40, 1989.H.P. Grice. 1967c. ‘Indicative conditionals. Studies in the Way of Words, Harvard University Press, Cambridge, MA, pages 58–85, 1989.H.P. Grice. 1969. ‘Vacuous Names,’ in Words and objections: essays on the work of W. V. Quine, edited by Donald Davidson and Jaako Hintikka, Dordrecht: Reidel. H.P. Grice, 1981. ‘Presupposition and conversational implicature,’ in Paul Cole, Radical Pragmatics, New York, Academic Press. H.P. Grice, 1986. ‘Reply to Richards,’ in Philosophical Grounds of Rationality: Intentions, Categories, Ends, ed. by Richard Grandy and Richard Warner, Oxford: The Clarendon Press.H.P. Grice. 2001. Aspects of reason, being the John Locke Lectures delivered at Oxford, Oxford: Clarendon. H.P. Grice, n.d. ‘Entailment,’ The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC MSS 90/135c, The Bancroft Library, University of California, Berkeley. Loar, B. F. Meaning and mind. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Mates, Benson, Elementary Logic. Oxford: Clarendon Press.George Myro, 1986. ‘Time and identity,’ in Richard Grandy and Richard Warner, Philosophical Grounds of Rationality: Intentions, Categories, Ends. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Francesco Paoli, Substructural logic. Arthur Pap. 1949. ‘Are all necessary propositions analytic?’, repr. in The limits of logical empiricism.Peacocke, Christopher A. B. (1976), What is a logical constant? The Journal of Philosophy.Quine, W. V. O. 1969. ‘Reply to H. P. Grice,’ in Davidson and Hintikka, Words and objections: esssays on the work of W. V. Quine. Dordrecht: Reidel. Stephen Read, A philosophical approach to inference. A.Rieger, A simple theory of conditionals. Analysis, 2006.Robert van Rooij. 2010. ‘Conversational implicatures,’Gilbert Ryle. 1954. ‘Formal and Informal logic,’ in Dilemmas, The Tarner Lectures 1953. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, Chapter 8. Florian Steinberger. The normative status of logic. In Edward N. Zalta, editor, The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Metaphysics Research Lab, Stanford University, spring 2017 edition, 2017.P. F. Strawson (1952). Introduction to Logical Theory. London: Methuen.P. F. Strawson (1986). ‘‘If’ and ‘⊃’’ R. Grandy and R. O. Warner, Philosophical Grounds of Rationality, Intentions, Categories, Ends, repr. in his “Entity and Identity, and Other Essays. Oxford: Clarendon PressJ.O. Urmson. Philosophical analysis: its development between the two world wars. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1956. R. C. S. Walker. “Conversational implicature,” in S. W. Blackburn, Meaning, reference, and necessity. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1975, pp. 133-81A. N. Whitehead and B. A. W. Russell, 1913. Principia Mathematica. Cambridge University Press. Conjunctum -- conjunction, the logical operation on a pair of propositions that is typically indicated by the coordinating conjunction ‘and’. The truth table for conjunction is Besides ‘and’, other coordinating conjunctions, including ‘but’, ‘however’, ‘moreover’, and ‘although’, can indicate logical conjunction, as can the semicolon ‘;’ and the comma ‘,’.  conjunction elimination. 1 The argument form ‘A and B; therefore, A or B’ and arguments of this form. 2 The rule of inference that permits one to infer either conjunct from a conjunction. This is also known as the rule of simplification or 8-elimination.  conjunction introduction. 1 The argument form ‘A, B; therefore, A and B’ and arguments of this form. 2 The rule of inference that permits one to infer a conjunction from its two conjuncts. This is also known as the rule of conjunction introduction, 8-introduction, or adjunction. Conjunctum -- Why Grice used inverse V as symbol for “and” Conjunctum -- De Morgan, A. prolific British mathematician, logician, and philosopher of mathematics and logic. He is remembered chiefly for several lasting contributions to logic and philosophy of logic, including discovery and deployment of the concept of universe of discourse, the cofounding of relational logic, adaptation of what are now known as De Morgan’s laws, and several terminological innovations including the expression ‘mathematical induction’. His main logical works, the monograph Formal Logic 1847 and the series of articles “On the Syllogism” 184662, demonstrate wide historical and philosophical learning, synoptic vision, penetrating originality, and disarming objectivity. His relational logic treated a wide variety of inferences involving propositions whose logical forms were significantly more complex than those treated in the traditional framework stemming from Aristotle, e.g. ‘If every doctor is a teacher, then every ancestor of a doctor is an ancestor of a teacher’. De Morgan’s conception of the infinite variety of logical forms of propositions vastly widens that of his predecessors and even that of his able contemporaries such as Boole, Hamilton, Mill, and Whately. De Morgan did as much as any of his contemporaries toward the creation of modern mathematical logic.  -- De Morgan’s laws, the logical principles - A 8 B S - A 7 - B, - A 7 B S - A 8 - B, - -A 8 - B S A 7 B, and - - A 7 - B S A 8 B, though the term is occasionally used to cover only the first two. Refs.The main published source is “Studies in the Way of Words” (henceforth, “WOW”), I (especially Essays 1 and 4), “Presupposition and conversational implicature,” in P. Cole, and the two sets on ‘Logic and conversation,’ in The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

Connective -- connected, said of a relation R where, for any two distinct elements x and y of the domain, either xRy or yRx. R is said to be strongly connected if, for any two elements x and y, either xRy or yRx, even if x and y are identical. Given the domain of positive integers, for instance, the relation ‹ is connected, since for any two distinct numbers a and b, either a ‹ b or b ‹ a. ‹ is not strongly connected, however, since if a % b we do not have either a ‹ b or b ‹ a. The relation o, however, is Confucius connected 174   174 strongly connected, since either a o b or b o a for any two numbers, including the case where a % b. An example of a relation that is not connected is the subset relation 0, since it is not true that for any two sets A and B, either A 0 B or B 0 A.  connectionism, an approach to modeling cognitive systems which utilizes networks of simple processing units that are inspired by the basic structure of the nervous system. Other names for this approach are neural network modeling and parallel distributed processing. Connectionism was pioneered in the period 065 by researchers such as Frank Rosenblatt and Oliver Selfridge. Interest in using such networks diminished during the 0s because of limitations encountered by existing networks and the growing attractiveness of the computer model of the mind according to which the mind stores symbols in memory and registers and performs computations upon them. Connectionist models enjoyed a renaissance in the 0s, partly as the result of the discovery of means of overcoming earlier limitations e.g., development of the back-propagation learning algorithm by David Rumelhart, Geoffrey Hinton, and Ronald Williams, and of the Boltzmann-machine learning algorithm by David Ackley, Geoffrey Hinton, and Terrence Sejnowski, and partly as limitations encountered with the computer model rekindled interest in alternatives. Researchers employing connectionist-type nets are found in a variety of disciplines including psychology, artificial intelligence, neuroscience, and physics. There are often major differences in the endeavors of these researchers: psychologists and artificial intelligence researchers are interested in using these nets to model cognitive behavior, whereas neuroscientists often use them to model processing in particular neural systems. A connectionist system consists of a set of processing units that can take on activation values. These units are connected so that particular units can excite or inhibit others. The activation of any particular unit will be determined by one or more of the following: inputs from outside the system, the excitations or inhibitions supplied by other units, and the previous activation of the unit. There are a variety of different architectures invoked in connectionist systems. In feedforward nets units are clustered into layers and connections pass activations in a unidirectional manner from a layer of input units to a layer of output units, possibly passing through one or more layers of hidden units along the way. In these systems processing requires one pass of processing through the network. Interactive nets exhibit no directionality of processing: a given unit may excite or inhibit another unit, and it, or another unit influenced by it, might excite or inhibit the first unit. A number of processing cycles will ensue after an input has been given to some or all of the units until eventually the network settles into one state, or cycles through a small set of such states. One of the most attractive features of connectionist networks is their ability to learn. This is accomplished by adjusting the weights connecting the various units of the system, thereby altering the manner in which the network responds to inputs. To illustrate the basic process of connectionist learning, consider a feedforward network with just two layers of units and one layer of connections. One learning procedure commonly referred to as the delta rule first requires the network to respond, using current weights, to an input. The activations on the units of the second layer are then compared to a set of target activations, and detected differences are used to adjust the weights coming from active input units. Such a procedure gradually reduces the difference between the actual response and the target response. In order to construe such networks as cognitive models it is necessary to interpret the input and output units. Localist interpretations treat individual input and output units as representing concepts such as those found in natural language. Distributed interpretations correlate only patterns of activation of a number of units with ordinary language concepts. Sometimes but not always distributed models will interpret individual units as corresponding to microfeatures. In one interesting variation on distributed representation, known as coarse coding, each symbol will be assigned to a different subset of the units of the system, and the symbol will be viewed as active only if a predefined number of the assigned units are active. A number of features of connectionist nets make them particularly attractive for modeling cognitive phenomena in addition to their ability to learn from experience. They are extremely efficient at pattern-recognition tasks and often generalize very well from training inputs to similar test inputs. They can often recover complete patterns from partial inputs, making them good models for content-addressable memory. Interactive networks are particularly useful in modeling cognitive tasks in which multiple constraints must be satisfied simultaneously, or in which the goal is to satisfy competing constraints as well as possible. In a natural manner they can override some constraints on a problem when it is not possible to satisfy all, thus treating the constraints as soft. While the cognitive connectionist models are not intended to model actual neural processing, they suggest how cognitive processes can be realized in neural hardware. They also exhibit a feature demonstrated by the brain but difficult to achieve in symbolic systems: their performance degrades gracefully as units or connections are disabled or the capacity of the network is exceeded, rather than crashing. Serious challenges have been raised to the usefulness of connectionism as a tool for modeling cognition. Many of these challenges have come from theorists who have focused on the complexities of language, especially the systematicity exhibited in language. Jerry Fodor and Zenon Pylyshyn, for example, have emphasized the manner in which the meaning of complex sentences is built up compositionally from the meaning of components, and argue both that compositionality applies to thought generally and that it requires a symbolic system. Therefore, they maintain, while cognitive systems might be implemented in connectionist nets, these nets do not characterize the architecture of the cognitive system itself, which must have capacities for symbol storage and manipulation. Connectionists have developed a variety of responses to these objections, including emphasizing the importance of cognitive functions such as pattern recognition, which have not been as successfully modeled by symbolic systems; challenging the need for symbol processing in accounting for linguistic behavior; and designing more complex connectionist architectures, such as recurrent networks, capable of responding to or producing systematic structures. 

Connotatum – intension -- connotation. 1 The ideas and associations brought to mind by an expression used in contrast with ‘denotation’ and ‘meaning’. 2 In a technical use, the properties jointly necessary and sufficient for the correct application of the expression in question. 

Consequentia -- consequentialism, the doctrine that the moral rightness of an act is determined solely by the goodness of the act’s consequences. Prominent consequentialists include J. S. Mill, Moore, and Sidgwick. Maximizing versions of consequentialism  the most common sort  hold that an act is morally right if and only if it produces the best consequences of those acts available to the agent. Satisficing consequentialism holds that an act is morally right if and only if it produces enough good consequences on balance. Consequentialist theories are often contrasted with deontological ones, such as Kant’s, which hold that the rightness of an act is determined at least in part by something other than the goodness of the act’s consequences. A few versions of consequentialism are agentrelative: that is, they give each agent different aims, so that different agents’ aims may conflict. For instance, egoistic consequentialism holds that the moral rightness of an act for an agent depends solely on the goodness of its consequences for him or her. However, the vast majority of consequentialist theories have been agent-neutral and consequentialism is often defined in a more restrictive way so that agentrelative versions do not count as consequentialist. A doctrine is agent-neutral when it gives to each agent the same ultimate aims, so that different agents’ aims cannot conflict. For instance, utilitarianism holds that an act is morally right if and only if it produces more happiness for the sentient beings it affects than any other act available to the agent. This gives each agent the same ultimate aim, and so is agent-neutral. Consequentialist theories differ over what features of acts they hold to determine their goodness. Utilitarian versions hold that the only consequences of an act relevant to its goodness are its effects on the happiness of sentient beings. But some consequentialists hold that the promotion of other things matters too  achievement, autonomy, knowledge, or fairness, for instance. Thus utilitarianism, as a maximizing, agent-neutral, happiness-based view is only one of a broad range of consequentialist theories.  consequentia mirabilis, the logical principle that if a statement follows from its own negation it must be true. Strict consequentia mirabilis is the principle that if a statement follows logically from its own negation it is logically true. The principle is often connected with the paradoxes of strict implication, according to which any statement follows from a contradiction. Since the negation of a tautology is a contradiction, every tautology follows from its own negation. However, if every expression of the form ‘if p then q’ implies ‘not-p or q’ they need not be equivalent, then from ‘if not-p then p’ we can derive ‘not-not-p or p’ and by the principles of double negation and repetition derive p. Since all of these rules are unexceptionable the principle of consequentia mirabilis is also unexceptionable. It is, however, somewhat counterintuitive, hence the name ‘the astonishing implication’, which goes back to its medieval discoverers or rediscoverers. 

Consistentia -- consistency, in traditional Aristotelian logic, a semantic notion: two or more statements are called consistent if they are simultaneously true under some interpretation cf., e.g., W. S. Jevons, Elementary Lessons in Logic, 1870. In modern logic there is a syntactic definition that also fits complex e.g., mathematical theories developed since Frege’s Begriffsschrift 1879: a set of statements is called consistent with respect to a certain logical calculus, if no formula ‘P & P’ is derivable from those statements by the rules of the calculus; i.e., the theory is free from contradictions. If these definitions are equivalent for a logic, we have a significant fact, as the equivalence amounts to the completeness of its system of rules. The first such completeness theorem was obtained for sentential or propositional logic by Paul Bernays in 8 in his Habilitationsschrift that was partially published as Axiomatische Untersuchung des Aussagen-Kalküls der “Principia Mathematica,” 6 and, independently, by Emil Post in Introduction to a General Theory of Elementary Propositions, 1; the completeness of predicate logic was proved by Gödel in Die Vollständigkeit der Axiome des logischen Funktionenkalküls, 0. The crucial step in such proofs shows that syntactic consistency implies semantic consistency. Cantor applied the notion of consistency to sets. In a well-known letter to Dedekind 9 he distinguished between an inconsistent and a consistent multiplicity; the former is such “that the assumption that all of its elements ‘are together’ leads to a contradiction,” whereas the elements of the latter “can be thought of without contradiction as ‘being together.’ “ Cantor had conveyed these distinctions and their motivation by letter to Hilbert in 7 see W. Purkert and H. J. Ilgauds, Georg Cantor, 7. Hilbert pointed out explicitly in 4 that Cantor had not given a rigorous criterion for distinguishing between consistent and inconsistent multiplicities. Already in his Über den Zahlbegriff 9 Hilbert had suggested a remedy by giving consistency proofs for suitable axiomatic systems; e.g., to give the proof of the “existence of the totality of real numbers or  in the terminology of G. Cantor  the proof of the fact that the system of real numbers is a consistent complete set” by establishing the consistency of an axiomatic characterization of the reals  in modern terminology, of the theory of complete, ordered fields. And he claimed, somewhat indeterminately, that this could be done “by a suitable modification of familiar methods.” After 4, Hilbert pursued a new way of giving consistency proofs. This novel way of proceeding, still aiming for the same goal, was to make use of the formalization of the theory at hand. However, in the formulation of Hilbert’s Program during the 0s the point of consistency proofs was no longer to guarantee the existence of suitable sets, but rather to establish the instrumental usefulness of strong mathematical theories T, like axiomatic set theory, relative to finitist mathematics. That focus rested on the observation that the statement formulating the syntactic consistency of T is equivalent to the reflection principle Pra, ‘s’ P s; here Pr is the finitist proof predicate for T, s is a finitistically meaningful statement, and ‘s’ its translation into the language of T. If one could establish finitistically the consistency of T, one could be sure  on finitist grounds  that T is a reliable instrument for the proof of finitist statements. There are many examples of significant relative consistency proofs: i non-Euclidean geometry relative to Euclidean, Euclidean geometry relative to analysis; ii set theory with the axiom of choice relative to set theory without the axiom of choice, set theory with the negation of the axiom of choice relative to set theory; iii classical arithmetic relative to intuitionistic arithmetic, subsystems of classical analysis relative to intuitionistic theories of constructive ordinals. The mathematical significance of relative consistency proofs is often brought out by sharpening them to establish conservative extension results; the latter may then ensure, e.g., that the theories have the same class of provably total functions. The initial motivation for such arguments is, however, frequently philosophical: one wants to guarantee the coherence of the original theory on an epistemologically distinguished basis. 

The English constitution – an example Grice gives of a ‘vacuous name’ -- constitution, a relation between concrete particulars including objects and events and their parts, according to which at some time t, a concrete particular is said to be constituted by the sum of its parts without necessarily being identical with that sum. For instance, at some specific time t, Mt. Everest is constituted by the various chunks of rock and other matter that form Everest at t, though at t Everest would still have been Everest even if, contrary to fact, some particular rock that is part of the sum had been absent. Hence, although Mt. Everest is not identical to the sum of its material parts at t, it is constituted by them. The relation of constitution figures importantly in recent attempts to articulate and defend metaphysical physicalism naturalism. To capture the idea that all that exists is ultimately physical, we may say that at the lowest level of reality, there are only microphysical phenomena, governed by the laws of microphysics, and that all other objects and events are ultimately constituted by objects and events at the microphysical level. 

Context – While Grice jocularly echoes Firth with his ‘context of utterance,’ he thought the theory of context was ‘totally lacking in context.’ H. P. Grice, “The general theory of context,” -- contextualism, the view that inferential justification always takes place against a background of beliefs that are themselves in no way evidentially supported. The view has not often been defended by name, but Dewey, Popper, Austin, and Vitters are arguably among its notable exponents. As this list perhaps suggests, contextualism is closely related to the “relevant alternatives” conception of justification, according to which claims to knowledge are justified not by ruling out any and every logically possible way in which what is asserted might be false or inadequately grounded, but by excluding certain especially relevant alternatives or epistemic shortcomings, these varying from one context of inquiry to another. Formally, contextualism resembles foundationalism. But it differs from traditional, or substantive, foundationalism in two crucial respects. First, foundationalism insists that basic beliefs be self-justifying or intrinsically credible. True, for contemporary foundationalists, this intrinsic credibility need not amount to incorrigibility, as earlier theorists tended to suppose: but some degree of intrinsic credibility is indispensable for basic beliefs. Second, substantive foundational theories confine intrinsic credibility, hence the status of being epistemologically basic, to beliefs of some fairly narrowly specified kinds. By contrast, contextualists reject all forms of the doctrine of intrinsic credibility, and in consequence place no restrictions on the kinds of beliefs that can, in appropriate circumstances, function as contextually basic. They regard this as a strength of their position, since explaining and defending attributions of intrinsic credibility has always been the foundationalist’s main problem. Contextualism is also distinct from the coherence theory of justification, foundationalism’s traditional rival. Coherence theorists are as suspicious as contextualists of the foundationalist’s specified kinds of basic beliefs. But coherentists react by proposing a radically holistic model of inferential justification, according to which a belief becomes justified through incorporation into a suitably coherent overall system of beliefs or “total view.” There are many well-known problems with this approach: the criteria of coherence have never been very clearly articulated; it is not clear what satisfying such criteria has to do with making our beliefs likely to be true; and since it is doubtful whether anyone has a very clear picture of his system of beliefs as a whole, to insist that justification involves comparing the merits of competing total views seems to subject ordinary justificatory practices to severe idealization. Contextualism, in virtue of its formal affinity with foundationalism, claims to avoid all such problems. Foundationalists and coherentists are apt to respond that contextualism reaps these benefits by failing to show how genuinely epistemic justification is possible. Contextualism, they charge, is finally indistinguishable from the skeptical view that “justification” depends on unwarranted assumptions. Even if, in context, these are pragmatically acceptable, epistemically speaking they are still just assumptions. This objection raises the question whether contextualists mean to answer the same questions as more traditional theorists, or answer them in the same way. Traditional theories of justification are framed so as to respond to highly general skeptical questions  e.g., are we justified in any of our beliefs about the external world? It may be that contextualist theories are or should be advanced, not as direct answers to skepticism, but in conjunction with attempts to diagnose or dissolve traditional skeptical problems. Contextualists need to show how and why traditional demands for “global” justification misfire, if they do. If traditional skeptical problems are taken at face value, it is doubtful whether contextualism can answer them. 

Continental breakfast – Grice enjoyed a continental breakfast at Oxford, and an English breakfast in Rome -- Continental philosophy, the gradually changing spectrum of philosophical views that in the twentieth century developed in Continental Europe and that are notably different from the various forms of analytic philosophy that during the same period flourished in the Anglo- world. Immediately after World War II the expression was more or less synonymous with ‘phenomenology’. The latter term, already used earlier in G. idealism, received a completely new meaning in the work of Husserl. Later on the term was also applied, often with substantial changes in meaning, to the thought of a great number of other Continental philosophers such as Scheler, Alexander Pfander, Hedwig Conrad-Martius, Nicolai Hartmann, and most philosophers mentioned below. For Husserl the aim of philosophy is to prepare humankind for a genuinely philosophical form of life, in and through which each human being gives him- or herself a rule through reason. Since the Renaissance, many philosophers have tried in vain to materialize this aim. In Husserl’s view, the reason was that philosophers failed to use the proper philosophical method. Husserl’s phenomenology was meant to provide philosophy with the method needed. Among those deeply influenced by Husserl’s ideas the so-called existentialists must be mentioned first. If ‘existentialism’ is construed strictly, it refers mainly to the philosophy of Sartre and Beauvoir. In a very broad sense it refers to the ideas of an entire group of thinkers influenced methodologically by Husserl and in content by Marcel, Heidegger, Sartre, or Merleau-Ponty. In this case one often speaks of existential phenomenology. When Heidegger’s philosophy became better known at Oxford, ‘Continental philosophy’ received again a new meaning. From Heidegger’s first publication, Being and Time 7, it was clear that his conception of phenomenology differs from that of Husserl in several important respects. That is why he qualified the term and spoke of hermeneutic phenomenology and clarified the expression by examining the “original” meaning of the Grecian words from which the term was formed. In his view phenomenology must try “to let that which shows itself be seen from itself in the very way in which it shows itself from itself.” Heidegger applied the method first to the mode of being of man with the aim of approaching the question concerning the meaning of being itself through this phenomenological interpretation. Of those who took their point of departure from Heidegger, but also tried to go beyond him, Gadamer and Ricoeur must be mentioned. The structuralist movement in France added another connotation to ‘Continental philosophy’. The term structuralism above all refers to an activity, a way of knowing, speaking, and acting that extends over a number of distinguished domains of human activity: linguistics, aesthetics, anthropology, psychology, psychoanalysis, mathematics, philosophy of science, and philosophy itself. Structuralism, which became a fashion in Paris and later in Western Europe generally, reached its high point on the Continent between 0 and 0. It was inspired by ideas first formulated by Russian formalism 626 and Czech structuralism 640, but also by ideas derived from the works of Marx and Freud. In France Foucault, Barthes, Althusser, and Derrida were the leading figures. Structuralism is not a new philosophical movement; it must be characterized by structuralist activity, which is meant to evoke ever new objects. This can be done in a constructive and a reconstructive manner, but these two ways of evoking objects can never be separated. One finds the constructive aspect primarily in structuralist aesthetics and linguistics, whereas the reconstructive aspect is more apparent in philosophical reflections upon the structuralist activity. Influenced by Nietzschean ideas, structuralism later developed in a number of directions, including poststructuralism; in this context the works of Gilles Deleuze, Lyotard, Irigaray, and Kristeva must be mentioned. After 0 ‘Continental philosophy’ received again a new connotation: deconstruction. At first deconstruction presented itself as a reaction against philosophical hermeneutics, even though both deconstruction and hermeneutics claim their origin in Heidegger’s reinterpretation of Husserl’s phenomenology. The leading philosopher of the movement is Derrida, who at first tried to think along phenomenological and structuralist lines. Derrida formulated his “final” view in a linguistic form that is both complex and suggestive. It is not easy in a few sentences to state what deconstruction is. Generally speaking one can say that what is being deconstructed is texts; they are deconstructed to show that there are conflicting conceptions of meaning and implication in every text so that it is never possible definitively to show what a text really means. Derrida’s own deconstructive work is concerned mainly with philosophical texts, whereas others apply the “method” predominantly to literary texts. What according to Derrida distinguished philosophy is its reluctance to face the fact that it, too, is a product of linguistic and rhetorical figures. Deconstruction is here that process of close reading that focuses on those elements where philosophers in their work try to erase all knowledge of its own linguistic and rhetorical dimensions. It has been said that if construction typifies modern thinking, then deconstruction is the mode of thinking that radically tries to overcome modernity. Yet this view is simplistic, since one also deconstructs Plato and many other thinkers and philosophers of the premodern age. People concerned with social and political philosophy who have sought affiliation with Continental philosophy often appeal to the so-called critical theory of the Frankfurt School in general, and to Habermas’s theory of communicative action in particular. Habermas’s view, like the position of the Frankfurt School in general, is philosophically eclectic. It tries to bring into harmony ideas derived from Kant, G. idealism, and Marx, as well as ideas from the sociology of knowledge and the social sciences. Habermas believes that his theory makes it possible to develop a communication community without alienation that is guided by reason in such a way that the community can stand freely in regard to the objectively given reality. Critics have pointed out that in order to make this theory work Habermas must substantiate a number of assumptions that until now he has not been able to justify. 

Grice’s contingency planning -- “What is actual is not also possible” “What is necessary is not also contingent” -- contingent, neither impossible nor necessary; i.e., both possible and non-necessary. The modal property of being contingent is attributable to a proposition, state of affairs, event, or  more debatably  an object. Muddles about the relationship between this and other modal properties have abounded ever since Aristotle, who initially conflated contingency with possibility but later realized that something that is possible may also be necessary, whereas something that is contingent cannot be necessary. Even today many philosophers are not clear about the “opposition” between contingency and necessity, mistakenly supposing them to be contradictory notions probably because within the domain of true propositions the contingent and the necessary are indeed both exclusive and exhaustive of one another. But the contradictory of ‘necessary’ is ‘non-necessary’; that of ‘contingent’ is ‘non-contingent’, as the following extended modal square of opposition shows: These logico-syntactical relationships are preserved through various semantical interpretations, such as those involving: a the logical modalities proposition P is logically contingent just when P is neither a logical truth nor a logical falsehood; b the causal or physical modalities state of affairs or event E is physically contingent just when E is neither physically necessary nor physically impossible; and c the deontic modalities act A is morally indeterminate just when A is neither morally obligatory nor morally forbidden. In none of these cases does ‘contingent’ mean ‘dependent,’ as in the phrase ‘is contingent upon’. Yet just such a notion of contingency seems to feature prominently in certain formulations of the cosmological argument, all created objects being said to be contingent beings and God alone to be a necessary or non-contingent being. Conceptual clarity is not furthered by assimilating this sense of ‘contingent’ to the others. 

contraposition, the immediate logical operation on any categorical proposition that is accomplished by first forming the complements of both the subject term and the predicate term of that proposition and then interchanging these complemented terms. Thus, contraposition applied to the categorical proposition ‘All cats are felines’ yields ‘All non-felines are non-cats’, where ‘nonfeline’ and ‘non-cat’ are, respectively, the complements or complementary terms of ‘feline’ and ‘cat’. The result of applying contraposition to a categorical proposition is said to be the contrapositive of that proposition.  contraries, any pair of propositions that cannot both be true but can both be false; derivatively, any pair of properties that cannot both apply to a thing but that can both fail to apply to a thing. Thus the propositions ‘This object is red all over’ and ‘This object is green all over’ are contraries, as are the properties of being red all over and being green all over. Traditionally, it was considered that the categorical A-proposition ‘All S’s are P’s’ and the categorical E-proposition ‘No S’s are P’s’ were contraries; but according to De Morgan and most subsequent logicians, these two propositions are both true when there are no S’s at all, so that modern logicians do not usually regard the categorical A- and E-propositions as being true contraries.  contravalid, designating a proposition P in a logical system such that every proposition in the system is a consequence of P. In most of the typical and familiar logical systems, contravalidity coincides with self-contradictoriness. 

Rational control – the power structure of the soul -- Grice’s intersubjective conversational control, -- for Grice only what is under one’s control is communicated – spots mean measles only metaphorically, the spots don’t communicate measles. An involuntary cry does not ‘mean.’ Only a simulated cry of pain is a vehicle by which an emissor may mean that he is in pain. an apparently causal phenomenon closely akin to power and important for such topics as intentional action, freedom, and moral responsibility. Depending upon the control you had over the event, your finding a friend’s stolen car may or may not be an intentional action, a free action, or an action for which you deserve moral credit. Control seems to be a causal phenomenon. Try to imagine controlling a car, say, without causing anything. If you cause nothing, you have no effect on the car, and one does not control a thing on which one has no effect. But control need not be causally deterministic. Even if a genuine randomizer in your car’s steering mechanism gives you only a 99 percent chance of making turns you try to make, you still have considerable control in that sphere. Some philosophers claim that we have no control over anything if causal determinism is true. That claim is false. When you drive your car, you normally are in control of its speed and direction, even if our world happens to be deterministic. 

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

conversational benevolence: In Grice it’s not benevolence per se but as a force in a two-force model, with self-love on the other side. The fact that he later subsumed everything under ONE concept: that of co-operation (first helpfulness) testifies that he is placing more conceptual strength on ‘benevolence’ than ‘self love.’ But the self-love’ remains in all the caveats and provisos that Grice keeps guarding his claims with: ‘ceteris paribus,’ ‘provided there’s not much effort involved,’ ‘if no unnecessary trouble arises,’ and so on. It’s never benevolence simpliciter or tout court. When it comes to co-operation, the self-love remains: the mutual goal of that co-operation is in the active and the passive voice – You expect me to be helpful as much as I expect you to be helpful. We are in this together. The active/passive voice formulation is emphatic in Grice: informing AND BEING INFORMED; influencing AND BEING INFLUENCED. The self-love goes: I won’t inform you unless you’ll inform me. I won’t influence you unless you influence me. The ‘influence’ bit does not seem to cooperative. But the ‘inform’ side does. By ‘inform,’ the idea is that the psi-transmission concerns a true belief. “I’ll be truthful if you will.” This is the sort of thing that Nietzsche found repugnant and identified with the golden rule was totally immoral. – It was felt by Russell to be immoral enough that he cared to mention in a letter to The Times about how abusive Nietzsche can be – yet what a gem “Beyond good and evil” still is! In the hypocritical milieu that Grice expects his tuttees know they are engaged in, Grice does not find Nietzsche pointing to a repugnant fact, but a practical, even jocular way of taking meta-ethics in a light way. There is nothing other-oriented about benevolence. What Grice needs is conversational ALTRUISM, or helpfulness – ‘cooperation’ has the advantage, with the ‘co-’, of avoiding the ‘mutuality’ aspect, which is crucial (“What’s the good of helping you – I’m not your servant! – if thou art not going to help me!” It may be said that when Butler uses ‘benevolentia’ he means others. “It is usually understood that one is benevolent towards oneself, if that makes sense.” Grice writes. Then there’s Smith promising Jones a job – and the problem that comes with it. For Grice, if Smith promised a job to Jones, and Jones never gets it – “that’s Jones’s problem.” So we need to distinguish beneficentia and benevolentia. The opposite is malevolentia and maleficientia. Usually Grice states his maxims as PROHIBITIONS: “Do not say what you believe to be false” being the wittiest! So, he might just as well have appealed to or invoked a principle of absence of conversational ill-will. Grice uses ‘conversational benevolence’ narrowly, to refer to the assumption that conversationalists will agree to make a contribution appropriate to the shared purposes of the exhcnage. It contrasts with the limiting conversational self-love, which is again taken narrowly to indicate that conversationalists are assumed to be conversationally ‘benevolent,’ in the interpretation above, provided doing that does not get them into unnecessary trouble. The type of rationality that Grice sees in conversational is one that sees conversation as ‘rational co-operation.’ So it is obvious that he has to invoke some level of benevolence. When tutoring his rather egoistic tutees he had to be careful, so he hastened to add a principle of conversational self-love. It was different when lecturing outside a tutorial! In fact ‘benevolence’ here is best understood as ‘altruism’. So, if there is a principle of conversational egoism, there is a correlative principle of conversational altruism. If Grice uses ‘self-love,’ there is nothing about ‘love,’ in ‘benevolence.’ Butler may have used ‘other-love’! Even if of course we must start with the Grecians! We must not forget that Plato and Aristotle despised "autophilia", the complacency and self-satisfaction making it into the opposite of "epimeleia heautou” in Plato’s Alcibiades. Similarly, to criticize Socratic ethics as a form of egoism in opposition to a selfless care of others is inappropriate. Neither a self-interested seeker of wisdom nor a dangerous teacher of self-love, Socrates, as the master of epimeleia heautou, is the hinge between the care of self and others. One has to be careful here. A folk-etymological connection between ‘foam’ may not be needed – when the Romans had to deal with Grecian ‘aphrodite.’ This requires that we look for another linguistic botany for Grecian ‘self-love’ that Grice opposes to ‘benevolentia.’ Hesiod derives Aphrodite from “ἀφρός,” ‘sea-foam,’ interpreting the name as "risen from the foam", but most modern scholars regard this as a spurious folk etymology. Early modern scholars of classical mythology attempted to argue that Aphrodite's name was of Griceain or Indo-European origin, but these efforts have now been mostly abandoned. Aphrodite's name is generally accepted to be of non-Greek, probably Semitic, origin, but its exact derivation cannot be determined. Scholars in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, accepting Hesiod's "foam" etymology as genuine, analyzed the second part of Aphrodite's name as -odítē "wanderer" or -dítē "bright". Janda, also accepting Hesiod's etymology, has argued in favor of the latter of these interpretations and claims the story of a birth from the foam as an Indo-European mytheme. Similarly, an Indo-European compound abʰor-, very" and dʰei- "to shine" have been proposed, also referring to Eos. Other have argued that these hypotheses are unlikely since Aphrodite's attributes are entirely different from those of both Eos and the Vedic deity Ushas.A number of improbable non-Greek etymologies have also been suggested. One Semitic etymology compares Aphrodite to the Assyrian ‘barīrītu,’ the name of a female demon that appears in Middle Babylonian and Late Babylonian texts. Hammarström looks to Etruscan, comparing eprϑni "lord", an Etruscan honorific loaned into Greek as πρύτανις.This would make the theonym in origin an honorific, "the lady".Most scholars reject this etymology as implausible, especially since Aphrodite actually appears in Etruscan in the borrowed form Apru (from Greek Aphrō, clipped form of Aphrodite). The medieval Etymologicum Magnum offers a highly contrived etymology, deriving Aphrodite from the compound habrodíaitos (ἁβροδίαιτος), "she who lives delicately", from habrós and díaita. The alteration from b to ph is explained as a "familiar" characteristic of Greek "obvious from the Macedonians". It is much easier with the Romans.  Lewis and Short have ‘ămor,’ old form “ămŏs,” “like honos, labos, colos, etc.’ obviously from ‘amare,’ and which they render as ‘love,’ as in Grice’s “conversational self-love.” Your tutor will reprimand you if you spend too much linguistic botany on ‘eros.’ “Go straight to ‘philos.’” But no. There are philosophical usages of ‘eros,’ especially when it comes to the Grecian philosophers Grice is interested in: Aristotle reading Plato, which becomes Ariskant reading Plathegel. So, Liddell and Scott have “ἔρως” which of course is from a verb, or two: “ἕραμαι,” “ἐράω,” and which they render as “love, mostly of the sexual passion, ““θηλυκρατὴς ἔ.,” “ἐρῶσ᾽ ἔρωτ᾽ ἔκδημον,” “ἔ. τινός love for one, S.Tr.433, “παίδων” E. Ion67, and “generally, love of a thing, desire for it,” ““πατρῴας γῆς” “δεινὸς εὐκλείας ἔ.” “ἔχειν ἔμφυτον ἔρωτα περί τι” Plato, Lg. 782e ; “πρὸς τοὺς λόγους” (love of law), “ἔρωτα σχὼν τῆς Ἑλλάδος τύραννος γενέσθαι” Hdt.5.32 ; ἔ. ἔχει με c. inf., A.Supp.521 ; “θανόντι κείνῳ συνθανεῖν ἔρως μ᾽ ἔχει” S.Fr.953 ; “αὐτοῖς ἦν ἔρως θρόνους ἐᾶσθαι” Id.OC367 ; ἔ. ἐμπίπτει μοι c. inf., A.Ag.341, cf. Th.6.24 ; εἰς ἔρωτά τινος ἀφικέσθαι, ἐλθεῖν, Antiph.212.3,Anaxil.21.5 : pl., loves, amours, “ἀλλοτρίων” Pi.N.3.30 ; “οὐχ ὅσιοι ἔ.” E.Hipp.765 (lyr.) ; “ἔρωτες ἐμᾶς πόλεως” Ar.Av.1316 (lyr.), etc. ; of dolphins, “πρὸς παῖδας” Arist.HA631a10 : generally, desires, S.Ant.617 (lyr.). 2. object of love or desire, “ἀπρόσικτοι ἔρωτες” Pi.N.11.48, cf. Luc.Tim.14. 3. passionate joy, S.Aj.693 (lyr.); the god of love, Anacr.65, Parm.13, E.Hipp.525 (lyr.), etc.“Έ. ἀνίκατε μάχαν” S.Ant.781 (lyr.) : in pl., Simon.184.3, etc. III. at Nicaea, a funeral wreath, EM379.54. IV. name of the κλῆρος Ἀφροδίτης, Cat.Cod.Astr.1.168 ; = third κλῆρος, Paul.Al.K.3; one of the τόποι, Vett.Val.69.16. And they’ll point to you that the Romans had ‘amor’ AND ‘cupidus’ (which they meant as a transliteration of epithumia). If for Kant and Grice it is the intention that matters, ill-will counts. If Smith does not want Jones have a job, Smith has ill-will towards Jones. This is all Kant and Grice need to call Smith a bad person. It means it is the ill-will that causes Joness not having a job. A conceptual elucidation. Interesting from a historical point of view seeing that Grice had introduced a principle of conversational benevolence (i.e. conversational goodwill) pretty early. Malevolentia was over-used by Cicero, translating the Grecian. Grice judges that if Jones fails to get the job that benevolent Smith promised, Smith may still be deemed, for Kant, if not Aristotle, to have given him the job. A similar elucidation was carried by Urmson with his idea of supererogation (heroism and sainthood). For a hero or saint, someones goodwill but not be good enough! Which does not mean it is ill, either! Conversational benevolence -- Self-love Philosophical theology -- Edwards, J., philosopher and theologian. He was educated at Yale, preached in New York City, and in 1729 assumed a Congregational pastorate in Northampton, Massachusetts, where he became a leader in the Great Awakening. Because of a dispute with his parishioners over qualifications for communion, he was forced to leave in 1750. In 1751, he took charge of congregations in Stockbridge, a frontier town sixty miles to the west. He was elected third president of Princeton in 1757 but died shortly after inauguration. Edwards deeply influenced Congregational and Presbyterian theology in America for over a century, but had little impact on philosophy. Interest in him revived in the middle of the twentieth century, first among literary scholars and theologians and later among philosophers. While most of Edwards’s published work defends the Puritan version of Calvinist orthodoxy, his notebooks reveal an interest in philosophical problems for their own sake. Although he was indebted to Continental rationalists like Malebranche, to the Cambridge Platonists, and especially to Locke, his own contributions are sophisticated and original. The doctrine of God’s absolute sovereignty is explicated by occasionalism, a subjective idealism similar to Berkeley’s, and phenomenalism. According to Edwards, what are “vulgarly” called causal relations are mere constant conjunctions. True causes necessitate their effects. Since God’s will alone meets this condition, God is the only true cause. He is also the only true substance. Physical objects are collections of ideas of color, shape, and other “corporeal” qualities. Finite minds are series of “thoughts” or “perceptions.” Any substance underlying perceptions, thoughts, and “corporeal ideas” must be something that “subsists by itself, stands underneath, and keeps up” physical and mental qualities. As the only thing that does so, God is the only real substance. As the only true cause and the only real substance, God is “in effect being in general.” God creates to communicate his glory. Since God’s internal glory is constituted by his infinite knowledge of, love of, and delight in himself as the highest good, his “communication ad extra” consists in the knowledge of, love of, and joy in himself which he bestows upon creatures. The essence of God’s internal and external glory is “holiness” or “true benevolence,” a disinterested love of being in general i.e., of God and the beings dependent on him. Holiness constitutes “true beauty,” a divine splendor or radiance of which “secondary” ordinary beauty is an imperfect image. God is thus supremely beautiful and the world is suffused with his loveliness. Vindications of Calvinist conceptions of sin and grace are found in Freedom of the Will 1754 and Original Sin 1758. The former includes sophisticated defenses of theological determinism and compatibilism. The latter contains arguments for occasionalism and interesting discussions of identity. Edwards thinks that natural laws determine kinds or species, and kinds or species determine criteria of identity. Since the laws of nature depend on God’s “arbitrary” decision, God establishes criteria of identity. He can thus, e.g., constitute Adam and his posterity as “one thing.” Edwards’s religious epistemology is developed in A Treatise Concerning Religious Affections 1746 and On the Nature of True Virtue 1765. The conversion experience involves the acquisition of a “new sense of the heart.” Its core is the mind’s apprehension of a “new simple idea,” the idea of “true beauty.” This idea is needed to properly understand theological truths. True Virtue also provides the fullest account of Edwards’s ethics  a moral sense theory that identifies virtue with benevolence. Although indebted to contemporaries like Hutcheson, Edwards criticizes their attempts to construct ethics on secular foundations. True benevolence embraces being in general. Since God is, in effect, being in general, its essence is the love of God. A love restricted to family, nation, humanity, or other “private systems” is a form of self-love.  Refs.: The source is Grice’s seminar in the first set on ‘Logic and conversation.’ The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

conversational category: used jocularly by Grice. But can it be used non-jocularly? How can the concept of ‘category,’ literally, apply to what Grice says it applies, so that we have, assuming Kant is using ‘quantity,’ ‘quality,’ ‘relation’ and ‘mode,’ as SUPRA-categories (functions, strictly) for his twelve categories? Let’s revise, the quantity applies to the quantification (in Frege’s terms) or what Boethius applied to Aristotle’s posotes – and there are three categories involved, but the three deal with the ‘quantum: ‘every,’ ‘some,’ and ‘one.’ ‘some’ Russell would call an indefinite. Strictly, if Grice wants to have a category of conversational quantity – it should relate to the ‘form’ of the ‘conversational move.’ “Every nice girl loves a sailor” would be the one with most ‘quantity.’ Grice sees a problem there, and would have that rather translated as ‘The altogether nice girl loves the one-at-a-time sailor.’ But that would be the most conversational move displaying ‘most quantity.’ (It can be argued it isn’t). When it comes to the category of conversational quality, the three categories by Kant under the ‘function’ of qualitas involves the well known trio, the affirmative, the negative, and the infinite. In terms of the ‘quality’ of a conversational move, it may be argued that a move in negative form (as in Grice, “I’m not hearing any noise,” “That pillar box is not blue” seem to provide ‘less’ quality than the affirmative counterparts. But as in quantity, it is not sure Kant has some ordering in mind. It seems he does. It seems he ascribes more value to the first category in each of the four functions. When it comes to the category of conversational relation, the connection with Kant could be done. Since this involves the categoric, the hypothetic, and the disjunctive. So here we may think that a conversational move will be either a categoric response – A: Mrs Smith is a wind bag. B: The weather has been delightful. Or a hypothetical. A: Mrs Smith is a wind bag. B: If that’s what you think. Or a dijunctive: Mrs. Smith is a wind bag. B: Or she is not. When it comes, lastly, to the category of conversational mode, we have just three strict categories under this ‘function’ in Kant, which relate to the strength of the copula: ‘must be,’ must not be’ and ‘may.’ A conversational move that states a necessity would be the expected move. “You must do it.” Impossibility involves negation, so it is more problematic. And ‘may be’ is an open conversational move. So there IS a way to justify the use of ‘conversational category’ to apply to the four functions that Kant decides the Aristotelian categories may subsumed into. He knows that Kant has TWELVE categories, but he keeps lecturing the Harvardites about Kant having FOUR categories. On top, he finds ‘modus’ boring, and, turned a manierist, changes the idiom. This is what Austin called a ‘philosophical hack’ searching for some para-philosophy! One has to be careful here. Grice does speak of this or that ‘conversational category.’ Seeing that he is ‘echoing,’ as he puts it, Ariskant, we migt just as well have an entry for each of the four. These would be the category of conversational quantity, the category of conversational quality, the category of conversational relation, and the category of conversational modality. Note that in this rephrasing Grice applies ‘conversational’ directly to the category. As Boethius pointed out (and Grice loved to read Minio-Paullelo’s edition of Boethus’s commentary on the Categories), the motivation by Aristotle to posit this or that category was expository. A mind cannot know a multitude of things, so we have to ‘reduce’ things. It is important to note that while ‘quantitas,’ ‘qualitas’ ‘relatio’ and ‘modus’ are used by Kant, he actually augments the number of categories. These four would be supra-categories. The sub-categories, or categories themselves turn out to be twelve. Kant proposed 12 categories: unity, plurality, and totality for concept of quantity; reality, negation, and limitation, for the concept of quality; inherence and subsistence, cause and effect, and community for the concept of relation; and possibility-impossibility, existence-nonexistence, and necessity and contingency. Kategorien sind nach Kant apriorisch und unmittelbar gegeben. Sie sind Werkzeuge des Urteilens und Werkzeuge des Denkens. Als solche dienen sie nur der Anwendung und haben keine Existenz. Sie bestehen somit nur im menschlichen Verstand. Sie sind nicht an Erfahrung gebunden.^[5] Durch ihre Unmittelbarkeit sind sie auch nicht an Zeichen gebunden.^[6] Kants erkenntnistheoretisches Ziel ist es, über die Bedingungen der Geltungskraft von Urteilen Auskunft zu geben. Ohne diese Auskunft können zwar vielerlei Urteile gefällt werden, sie müssen dann allerdings als „systematische Doktrin(en)“ bezeichnet werden.^[7] Kant kritisiert damit das rein analytische Denken der Wissenschaft als falsch und stellt ihm die Notwendigkeit des synthetisierenden Denkens gegenüber.^[8] Kant begründet die Geltungskraft mit dem Transzendentalen Subjekt.^[9] Das Transzendentalsubjekt ist dabei ein reiner Reflexionsbegriff, welcher das synthetisierende Dritte darstellt (wie in späteren Philosophien Geist (Hegel), Wille, Macht, Sprache und Wert (Marx)), das nicht durch die Sinne wahrnehmbar ist. Kant sucht hier die Antwort auf die Frage, wie der Mensch als vernunftbegabtes Wesen konstituiert werden kann, nicht in der Analyse, sondern in einer Synthesis.^[10]Bei Immanuel Kant, der somit als bedeutender Erneuerer der bis dahin „vorkritischen“ Kategorienlehre gilt, finden sich zwölf „Kategorien der reinen Vernunft“. Für Kant sind diese Kategorien Verstandesbegriffe, nicht aber Ausdruck des tatsächlichen Seins der Dinge an sich. Damit wandelt sich die ontologische Sichtweise der Tradition in eine erkenntnistheoretische Betrachtung, weshalb Kants „kritische“ Philosophie (seit der Kritik der reinen Vernunft) oft auch als „Kopernikanische Wende in der Philosophie“ bezeichnet wird.Quantität, Qualität, Relation und Modalität sind die vier grundlegenden Urteilsfunktionen des Verstandes, nach denen die Kategorien gebildet werden. Demnach sind z. B. der Urteilsfunktion „Quantität“ die Kategorien bzw. Urteile „Einheit“, „Vielheit“ und „Allheit“ untergeordnet, und der Urteilsfunktion „Relation“ die Urteile der „Ursache“ und der „Wirkung“.Siehe auch: Kritik der reinen Vernunft und Transzendentale AnalytikBereits bei Friedrich Adolf Trendelenburg findet man den Hinweis auf die verbreitete Kritik, dass Kant die den Kategorien zugrunde liegenden Urteilsformen nicht systematisch hergeleitet und damit als notwendig begründet hat. Einer der Kritikpunkte ist dabei, dass die Kategorien sich teilweise auf Anschauungen (Einzelheit, Realität, Dasein), teilweise auf Abstraktionen wie Zusammenfassen, Begrenzen oder Begründen (Vielheit, Allheit, Negation, Limitation, Möglichkeit, Notwendigkeit) beziehen.

Conversational compact -- Conversational pact -- Grice’s conversational quasi-contractualism -- contractarianism, a family of moral and political theories that make use of the idea of a social contract. Traditionally philosophers such as Hobbes and Locke used the social contract idea to justify certain conceptions of the state. In the twentieth century philosophers such as John Rawls have used the social contract notion to define and defend moral conceptions both conceptions of political justice and individual morality, often but not always doing so in addition to developing social contract theories of the state. The term ‘contractarian’ most often applies to this second type of theory. There are two kinds of moral argument that the contract image has spawned, the first rooted in Hobbes and the second rooted in Kant. Hobbesians start by insisting that what is valuable is what a person desires or prefers, not what he ought to desire or prefer for no such prescriptively powerful object exists; and rational action is action that achieves or maximizes the satisfaction of desires or preferences. They go on to insist that moral action is rational for a person to perform if and only if such action advances the satisfaction of his desires or preferences. And they argue that because moral action leads to peaceful and harmonious living conducive to the satisfaction of almost everyone’s desires or preferences, moral actions are rational for almost everyone and thus “mutually agreeable.” But Hobbesians believe that, to ensure that no cooperative person becomes the prey of immoral aggressors, moral actions must be the conventional norms in a community, so that each person can expect that if she behaves cooperatively, others will do so too. These conventions constitute the institution of morality in a society. So the Hobbesian moral theory is committed to the idea that morality is a human-made institution, which is justified only to the extent that it effectively furthers human interests. Hobbesians explain the existence of morality in society by appealing to the convention-creating activities of human beings, while arguing that the justification of morality in any human society depends upon how well its moral conventions serve individuals’ desires or preferences. By considering “what we could agree to” if we reappraised and redid the cooperative conventions in our society, we can determine the extent to which our present conventions are “mutually agreeable” and so rational for us to accept and act on. Thus, Hobbesians invoke both actual agreements or rather, conventions and hypothetical agreements which involve considering what conventions would be “mutually agreeable” at different points in their theory; the former are what they believe our moral life consists in; the latter are what they believe our moral life should consist in  i.e., what our actual moral life should model. So the notion of the contract does not do justificational work by itself in the Hobbesian moral theory: this term is used only metaphorically. What we “could agree to” has moral force for the Hobbesians not because make-believe promises in hypothetical worlds have any binding force but because this sort of agreement is a device that merely reveals how the agreed-upon outcome is rational for all of us. In particular, thinking about “what we could all agree to” allows us to construct a deduction of practical reason to determine what policies are mutually advantageous. The second kind of contractarian theory is derived from the moral theorizing of Kant. In his later writings Kant proposed that the “idea” of the “Original Contract” could be used to determine what policies for a society would be just. When Kant asks “What could people agree to?,” he is not trying to justify actions or policies by invoking, in any literal sense, the consent of the people. Only the consent of real people can be legitimating, and Kant talks about hypothetical agreements made by hypothetical people. But he does believe these make-believe agreements have moral force for us because the process by which these people reach agreement is morally revealing. Kant’s contracting process has been further developed by subsequent philosophers, such as Rawls, who concentrates on defining the hypothetical people who are supposed to make this agreement so that their reasoning will not be tarnished by immorality, injustice, or prejudice, thus ensuring that the outcome of their joint deliberations will be morally sound. Those contractarians who disagree with Rawls define the contracting parties in different ways, thereby getting different results. The Kantians’ social contract is therefore a device used in their theorizing to reveal what is just or what is moral. So like Hobbesians, their contract talk is really just a way of reasoning that allows us to work out conceptual answers to moral problems. But whereas the Hobbesians’ use of contract language expresses the fact that, on their view, morality is a human invention which if it is well invented ought to be mutually advantageous, the Kantians’ use of the contract language is meant to show that moral principles and conceptions are provable theorems derived from a morally revealing and authoritative reasoning process or “moral proof procedure” that makes use of the social contract idea. Both kinds of contractarian theory are individualistic, in the sense that they assume that moral and political policies must be justified with respect to, and answer the needs of, individuals. Accordingly, these theories have been criticized by communitarian philosophers, who argue that moral and political policies can and should be decided on the basis of what is best for a community. They are also attacked by utilitarian theorists, whose criterion of morality is the maximization of the utility of the community, and not the mutual satisfaction of the needs or preferences of individuals. Contractarians respond that whereas utilitarianism fails to take seriously the distinction between persons, contractarian theories make moral and political policies answerable to the legitimate interests and needs of individuals, which, contra the communitarians, they take to be the starting point of moral theorizing.

conversational co-öperation: Grice is perfectly right that ‘helpfulness’ does not ‘equate’ cooperation. His earlier principle of conversational helpfulness becomes the principle of conversational co-operation.Tthere is a distinction between mutual help and cooperation. First, the Romans never knew. Their ‘servants’ were ‘help’ – and this remains in the British usage of ‘civil servant,’ one who helps. Some philosophical tutees by Hare were often reminded, in the midst of their presenting their essays, “Excuse me for interrupting, Smith, but have you considered a career in the civil service?” Then some Romans found Christianism fashionable, and they were set to translate the Bible. So when this Hebrew concept appeared, they turned it into ad-judicatum, which was translated by Wycliff as ‘help.’ Now ‘operatio’ is quite a different animal. It’s the ‘opus’ of the Romans, who also had ‘labor.’ Surely to ‘co-laborate’ is to ‘co-operate.’ There is an idea that ‘operate,’ can be more otiose, in the view of Rogers Albritton. “He is operating the violin,” was his favourite utterance. “Possibly his opus 5.” The fact that English needs a hyphen and an umlaut does not make it very ‘ordinary’ in Austin’s description. Grice is more interested in the conceptualization of this, notably as it relates to rationality. Can cooperation NOT be rational? For most libertarians, cooperation IS “irrational,” rather. But Grice points is subtler. He is concerned with an emissor communicating that p. The least thing he deserves is a rational recipient. “Otherwise I might just as well scream to the walls!” Used by Grice WOW:368 – previously, ‘rational cooperation’ – what cooperation is not rational? Grice says that if Smith promised Jones a job; Jones doesn’t get it. Smith must be DEEMED to have given the job to Jones. It’s the intention, as Kant shows, the pure motive, that matters. Ditto for communication. If Blackburn draws a skull, he communicates that there is danger. If his addressee fails to recognise the emissor’s intention the emissor will still be deemed to have communicated that there is danger. So communication does NOT require co-operation. His analysis of “emissor communicates that p” is not one of “emissor successfully communicates that p,” because “communicates” reduces to “intends” not to ‘fulfilled intention.’ Cooperation enters when we go beyond ONE act of communication. To communicate is to give information and to influence another, and it is also to receive information and to be influenced by another. When these communicative objectives are made explicit, helpfulness or cooperation becomes essential. He uses ‘converational cooperation” and “supreme principle of conversational cooperation” (369). He uses ‘supreme conversational principle” of “cooperativeness” (369), to avoid seeing the conversational imperatives as an unorganized heap of conversational obligations. Another variant is Grice’s use of “principle of conversational co-operation.” He also uses “principle of conversational rational co-operation.” Note that irrational or non-rational co-operation is not an oxymoron. Another expression is conversational cooperative rationality. So Grice was amused that you can just as well refer to ‘cooperative rationality” or “rational cooperation,” “a category shift if ever there was one.”

conversational explicitum: To be explicit is bad manners at Oxford if not in Paris or MIT. The thing is to imply! Englishmen are best at implying – their love for understatement is unequalled in the world. Grice needs the explicatio, or explicit. Because the mistake the philosopher makes is at the level of the implicatio, as Nowell-Smith, and C. K. Grant had noted. It is not OBVIOUSLY at the explicit level. Grice was never interested in the explicit level, and takes a very cavalier attitude to it. “This brief indication of my use of say leaves it open whether a man who says (today) Harold Wilson is a great man and another who says (also today) The British Prime Minister is a great man would, if each knew that the two singular terms had the same reference, have said the same thing. But whatever decision is made about this question, the apparatus that I am about to provide will be capable of accounting for any implicatures that might depend on the presence of one rather than another of these singular terms in the sentence uttered. Such implicatures would merely be related to different maxims.”Rephrase: “A brief indication of my use of ‘the explicit’ leaves it open whether a man who states (today), ‘Harold Wilson is a great man’ thereby stating that Wilson is a great man, and another who states (also today),‘The British Prime Minister is a great man,’ viz. that the Prime Minister is a great mand, would, if each singular term, ‘the Prime Minister’ and ‘Wilson’ has the same denotatum (co-relata) have put forward in an explicit fashion the same propositional complex, and have stated the same thing. On the face of it, it would seem they have not. But cf. ‘Wilson will be the prime minister’ versus ‘Wilson shall be the prime minister.’ Again, a subtler question arises as to whether the first emissor who has stated that Wilson will be the next prime minster and the other one who has stated that Wilson *shall* be the next prime minster, have both but forward the same proposition. If the futurm indicatum is ENTAILED by the futurum intentionale, the question is easy to settle. Whatever methodological decision or stipulation I end up making about the ‘explicitum,’ the apparatus that I rely on is capable of accounting for any implicatum that might depend on the presence of this or that singular term in the utterance. Such an implicatum would merely be related to a different conversational maxims. Urmson has elaborated on this, “Mrs. Smith’s husband just passed by.” “You mean the postman! Why did you use such contrived ‘signular term’?” If the emissor draws a skull what he explicitly conveys is that this is a skull. This is the EPLICITUM. If he communicates that there is danger, that’s via some further reasoning. That associates a skull with death. Grice’s example is Grice displaying his bandaged leg. Strictly, he communicates that he has a bandaged leg. Second, that his leg is bandaged (the bandage may be fake). And third, that he cannot play cricket. It all started in Oxford when they started to use ‘imply’ in a sense other than the ‘logical’ one. This got Grice immersed in a deep exploration of types of ‘implication.’ There is the implicatum, and the implicitum, both from ‘implico.’ As correlative there is the explicatio, which yields both the explicatum and the explicitum. Grice has under the desideratum of conversational clarity that a conversationalist is assumed to make the point of his conversational contribution ‘explicit.’ So in his polemic with G. A. Paul, Grice knows that the ‘doubt-or-denial’ condition will be at the level NOT of the explicitum or explicatum. Surely an implicatum can be CANCELLED explicitly. Grice uses ‘contextual’ or ‘explicit,’ here but grants that the ‘contextual’ may be subsumed under the ‘explicit.’  It is when the sub-perceptual utterance is copulated with the formulation of the explicatum of the implicatum that Grice shows G. A. Paul that the statement is still ‘true,’ and which Grice sees as a reivindication of the causal theory of perception. In the twenty or so examples of philosophical mistakes, both in “Causal” and “Prolegomena,” all the mistakes can be rendered back to the ‘explicatum’ versus ‘implicatum’ distinction. Unfortunately, each requires a philosophical background to draw all the ‘implications,’ and Grice has been read by people without a philosophical background who go on to criticise him for ignoring things where he never had focused his attention on. His priority is to deal with these philosophical mistakes. He also expects the philosopher to come up with a general methodological statement. Grice distinguishes between the conversational explicitum and the conversational explicatum. Grice plays with ‘explicit’ and ‘implicit’ at various places. He often uses ‘explicit’and ‘implicit’ adverbially: the utterer explicitly conveys that p versus the utterer implicitly conveys that p (hints that p, suggests that p, indicates that p, implicates that p, implies that p). Grice regards that both dimensions form part of the total act of signification, accepting as a neutral variant, that the utterer has signified that p.

conversational game: In a conversational game, you don’t say “The pillar box seems red” if you know it IS red. So, philosophers at Oxford (like Austin, Strawson, Hare, Hampshire, and Hart) are all victims of ignoring the rules of the game, and just not understanding that a game is being played.  the expression is used by Grice systematically. He speaks of players making the conversational move in the conversational game following the conversational rule, v. rational choice

conversational haggling -- bargaining theory, the branch of game theory that treats agreements, e.g., wage agreements between labor and management. In the simplest bargaining problems there are two bargainers. They can jointly realize various outcomes, including the outcome that occurs if they fail to reach an agreement. Each bargainer assigns a certain amount of utility to each outcome. The question is, what outcome will they realize if they are rational? Methods of solving bargaining problems are controversial. The best-known proposals are Nash’s and Kalai and Smorodinsky’s. Nash proposes maximizing the product of utility gains with respect to the disagreement point. Kalai and Smorodinsky propose maximizing utility gains with respect to the disagreement point, subject to the constraint that the ratio of utility gains equals the ratio of greatest possible gains. These methods of selecting an outcome have been axiomatically characterized. For each method, there are certain axioms of outcome selection such that that method alone satisfies the axioms. The axioms incorporate principles of rationality from cooperative game theory. They focus on features of outcomes rather than bargaining strategies. For example, one axiom requires that the outcome selected be Pareto-optimal, i.e., be an outcome such that no alternative is better for one of the bargainers and not worse for the other. Bargaining problems may become more complicated in several ways. First, there may be more than two bargainers. If unanimity is not required for beneficial agreements, splinter groups or coalitions may form. Second, the protocol for offers, counteroffers, etc., may be relevant. Then principles of non-cooperative game theory concerning strategies are needed to justify solutions. Third, the context of a bargaining problem may be relevant. For instance, opportunities for side payments, differences in bargaining power, and interpersonal comparisons of utility may influence the solution. Fourth, simplifying assumptions, such as the assumption that bargainers have complete information about their bargaining situation, may be discarded. Bargaining theory is part of the philosophical study of rationality. It is also important in ethics as a foundation for contractarian theories of morality and for certain theories of distributive justice. 

conversational helpfulness: Grice is right that ‘cooperation’ does NOT equate ‘helpfulness’ and he appropriately changes  his earlier principle of conversational helpfulness to a principle of conversational co-operation. Was there a Graeco-Roman equivalent for Anglo-Saxon ‘help’? helpmeet (n.) a ghost word from the 1611 translation of the Bible, where it originally was a two-word noun-adjective phrase translating Latin adjutorium simile sibi [Genesis ii.18] as "an help meet for him," and meaning literally "a helper like himself." See help (n.) + meet (adj.). By 1670s it was hyphenated help-meet and mistaken as a modified noun. Compare helpmate. The original Hebrew is 'ezer keneghdo. Related entries & more   aid (v.) "to assist, help," c. 1400, from Old French aidier "help, assist" (Modern French aider), from Latin adiutare, frequentative of adiuvare (past participle adiutus) "to give help to," from ad "to" (see ad-) + iuvare "to help, assist, give strength, support, sustain," which is from a PIE source perhaps related to the root of iuvenis "young person" (see young (adj.)). Related: Aided; aiding. Related entries & more   succor (n.) c. 1200, socour, earlier socours "aid, help," from Anglo-French succors "help, aid," Old French socors, sucurres "aid, help, assistance" (Modern French secours), from Medieval Latin succursus "help, assistance," from past participle of Latin succurrere "run to help, hasten to the aid of," from assimilated form of sub "up to" (see sub-) + currere "to run" (from PIE root *kers- "to run"). Final -s mistaken in English as a plural inflection and dropped late 13c. Meaning "one who aids or helps" is from c. 1300. There is a fashion in which to help is to cooperate, but co-operate, strictly, requires operation by A and operation by B. We do use cooperate loosely. “She is very cooperative.” “Help” seems less formal. One can help without ever engaging or honouring the other’s goal. I can help you buy a house, say. So the principle of conversational cooperation is stricter and narrower than the principle of conversational helpfulness. Cooperation involves reciprocity and mutuality in a way that helpfulness does not. That’s why Grice needs to emphasise that there is an expectation of MUTUAL helpfulness. One is expected to be helpful, and one expects the other to be helpful. Grice was doubtful about the implicature of ‘co-operative,’ – after all, who at Oxford wants a ‘co-operative.’ It sounds anti-Oxonian. So Grice elaborates on ‘helping others’ and ‘assuming others will help you’ in the event that we ‘are doing something together.’ Does this equate cooperation, he wonders. Just in case, he uses ‘helpfulness’ as a variant. There are other concepts he plays with, notably ‘altruism,’ and ‘benevolence,’ or other-love.’Helpfulness is Grice’s favourite virtue. Grice is clear that reciprocity is essential here. One exhibits helpfulness and expects helpfulness from his conversational partner. He dedicates a set of seven lectures to it, entitled as follows. Lecture 1, Prolegomena; Lecture 2: Logic and Conversation; Lecture 3: Further notes on logic and conversation; Lecture 4: Indicative conditionals; Lecture 5: Us meaning and intentions; Lecture 6: Us meaning, sentence-meaning, and word-meaning; and Lecture 7: Some models for implicature. I hope they dont expect me to lecture on James! Grice admired James, but not vice versa. Grice entitled the set as being Logic and Conversation. That is the title, also, of the second lecture. Grice keeps those titles seeing that it was way the whole set of lectures were frequently cited, and that the second lecture had been published under that title in Davidson and Harman, The Logic of Grammar. The content of each lecture is indicated below. In the first, Grice manages to quote from Witters. In the last, he didnt!  The original set consisted of seven lectures. To wit: Prolegomena, Logic and conversation, Further notes on logic and conversation, Indicative Conditionals, Us meaning and intentions, Us meaning, sentence-meaning, and word meaning, and Some models for implicature. They were pretty successful at Oxford. While the notion of an implicatum had been introduced by Grice at Oxford, even in connection with a principle of conversational helpfulness, he takes the occasion now to explore the type of rationality involved. Observation of the principle of conversational helpfulness is rational (reasonable) along the following lines: anyone who cares about the two central goals to conversation (give/receive information, influence/be influened) is expected to have an interest in participating in a conversation that is only going to be profitable given that it is conducted along the lines set by the principle of conversational helpfulness. In Prolegomena he lists Austin, Strawson, Hare, Hart, and himself, as victims of a disregard for the implicatum. In the third lecture he introduces his razor, Senses are not to be muliplied beyond necessity. In Indicative conditionals he tackles Strawson on if as not representing the horse-shoe of Whitehead and Russell. The next two lectures on the meaning by the utterer and intentions, and meaning by the utterer, sentence-meaning, and word-meaning refine his earlier, more austere, account of this particularly Peirceian phenomenon. He concludes the lectures with an exploration on the relevance of the implicatum to philosophical psychology. Grice was well aware that many philosophers had become enamoured with the s. and would love to give it a continuous perusal. The set is indeed grandiose. It starts with a Prolegomena to set the scene: He notably quotes himself in it, which helps, but also Strawson, which sort of justifies the general title. In the second lecture, Logic and Conversation, he expands on the principle of conversational helpfulness and the explicitum/implicatum distinction – all very rationalist! The third lecture is otiose in that he makes fun of Ockham: Senses are not to be multiplied beyond necessity. The fourth lecture, on Indicative conditionals, is indeed on MOST of the formal devices he had mentioned on Lecture II, notably the functors (rather than the quantifiers and the iota operator, with which he deals in Presupposition and conversational implicature, since, as he notes, they refer to reference). This lecture is the centrepiece of the set. In the fifth lecture, he plays with mean, and discovers that it is attached to the implicatum or the implicitum. In the sixth lecture, he becomes a nominalist, to use Bennetts phrase, as he deals with dog and shaggy in terms of this or that resultant procedure. Dont ask me what they are! Finally, in “Some models for implicature,” he attacks the charge of circularity, and refers to nineteenth-century explorations on the idea of thought without language alla Wundt. I dont think a set of James lectures had even been so comprehensive! Conversational helpfulness. This is Grice at his methodological best. He was aware that the type of philosophying he was about to criticise wass a bit dated, but whats wrong with being old-fashioned? While this may be seen as a development of his views on implicature at that seminal Oxford seminar, it may also be seen as Grice popularising the views for a New-World, non-Oxonian audience. A discussion of Oxonian philosophers of the play group of Grice, notably Austin, Hare, Hart, and Strawson. He adds himself for good measure (“Causal theory”). Philosophers, even at Oxford, have to be careful with the attention that is due to general principles of discourse. Grice quotes philosophers of an earlier generation, such as Ryle, and some interpreters or practitioners of Oxonian analysis, such as Benjamin and Searle. He even manages to quote from Witterss Philosophical investigations, on seeing a banana as a banana. There are further items in the Grice collection that address Austins manoeuvre, Austin on ifs and cans, Ifs and cans, : conditional, power.  Two of Grices favourites. He opposed Strawsons view on if. Grice thought that if was the horseshoe of Whitehead and Russell, provided we add an implicatum to an entailment. The can is merely dispositional, if not alla Ryle, alla Grice! Ifs and cans, intention, disposition. Austin had brought the topic to the fore as an exploration of free will. Pears had noted that conversational implicature may account for the conditional perfection (if yields iff). Cf. Ayers on Austin on if and can. Recall that for Grice the most idiomatic way to express a disposition is with the Subjectsive mode, the if, and the can ‒ The ice can break. Cf. the mistake: It is not the case that what you must do, you can do. The can-may distinction is one Grice played with too. As with will and shall, the attachment of one mode to one of the lexemes is pretty arbitrary and not etymologically justified ‒ pace Fowler on it being a privilege of this or that Southern Englishman as Fowler is. If he calls it Prolegomena, he is being jocular. Philosophers Mistakes would have been too provocative. Benjamin, or rather Broad, erred, and so did Ryle, and Ludwig Witters, and my friends, Austin (the mater that wobbled), and in order of seniority, Hart (I heard him defend this about carefully – stopping at every door in case a dog comes out at breakneck speed), Hare (To say good is to approve), and Strawson (“Logical theory”: To utter if p, q is to implicate some inferrability, To say true! is to endorse – Analysis). If he ends with Searle, he is being jocular. He quotes Searle from an essay in British philosophy in Lecture I, and from an essay in Philosophy in America in Lecture V. He loved Searle, and expands on the Texas oilmens club example! We may think of Grice as a linguistic botanizer or a meta-linguistic botanizer: his hobby was to collect philosophers mistakes, and he catalogued them. In Causal theory he produces his first list of seven. The pillar box seems red to me. One cannot see a dagger as a dagger. Moore didnt know that the objects before him were his own hands. What is actual is not also possible. For someone to be called responsible, his action should be condemnable. A cause must be given only of something abnormal or unusual (cf. ætiology). If you know it, you dont believe it. In the Prolegomena, the taxonomy is more complicated. Examples A (the use of an expression, by Austin, Benjamin, Grice, Hart, Ryle, Wittgenstein), Examples B (Strawson on and, or, and especially if), and Examples C (Strawson on true and Hare on good – the performative theories). But even if his taxonomy is more complicated, he makes it more SO by giving other examples as he goes on to discuss how to assess the philosophical mistake. Cf. his elaboration on trying, I saw Mrs. Smith cashing a cheque, Trying to cash a cheque, you mean. Or cf. his remarks on remember, and There is an analogy here with a case by Wittgenstein. In summary, he wants to say. Its the philosopher who makes his big mistake. He has detected, as Grice has it, some conversational nuance. Now he wants to exploit it. But before rushing ahead to exploit the conversational nuance he has detected, or identified, or collected in his exercise of linguistic botanising, the philosopher should let us know with clarity what type of a nuance it is. For Grice wants to know that the nuance depends on a general principle (of goal-directed behaviour in general, and most likely rational) governing discourse – that participants in a conversation should be aware of, and not on some minutiæ that has been identified by the philosopher making the mistake, unsystematically, and merely descriptively, and taxonomically, but without ONE drop of explanatory adequacy. The fact that he directs this to his junior Strawson is the sad thing. The rest are all Grices seniors! The point is of philosophical interest, rather than other. And he keeps citing philosophers, Tarski or Ramsey, in the third James leture, to elaborate the point about true in Prolegomena. He never seems interested in anything but an item being of philosophical interest, even if that means HIS and MINE! On top, he is being Oxonian: Only at Oxford my colleagues were so obsessed, as it has never been seen anywhere else, about the nuances of conversation. Only they were all making a big mistake in having no clue as to what the underlying theory of conversation as rational co-operation would simplify things for them – and how! If I introduce the explicatum as a concession, I shall hope I will be pardoned! Is Grices intention epagogic, or diagogic in Prolegomena? Is he trying to educate Strawson, or just delighting in proving Strawson wrong? We think the former. The fact that he quotes himself shows that Grice is concerned with something he still sees, and for the rest of his life will see, as a valid philosophical problem. If philosophy generated no problems it would be dead. Refs.: The main sources are the two sets on ‘logic and conversation.’ There are good paraphrases in other essays when he summarises his own views, as he did at Urbana. The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

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