THESAVRVS GRICEIANVUM -- In Four Volumes, Vol. II.

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

desirability: Correlative: credibility. For Grice, credibility reduces to desirability (He suggests that the reverse may also be possible but does not give a proposal). This Grice calls the Jeffrey operator. If Urmson likes ‘probably,’ Grice likes ‘desirably.’ This theorem is a corollary of the desirability axiom by Jeffrey, which is: "If prob XY = 0, for a prima facie  PF(A V B) A (x E w)] = PFA A (x E w)] + PfB A (x El+ w)]. This is the account by Grice of the adaptability of a pirot to its changeable environs. Grice borrows the notion of probability (henceforth, “pr”) from Davidson, whose early claim to fame was to provide the logic of the notion. Grice abbreviates probability by Pr. and compares it to a buletic operator ‘pf,’ ‘for prima facie,’ attached to ‘De’ for desirability. A rational agent must calculate both the probability and the desirability of his action. For both probability and desirability, the degree is crucial. Grice symbolises this by d: probability in degree d; probability in degree d. The topic of life Grice relates to that of adaptation and surival, and connects with his genitorial programme of creature construction (Pology.): life as continued operancy. Grice was fascinated with life (Aristotle, bios) because bios is what provides for Aristotle the definition (not by genus) of psyche. The steps are as follows. Pf(p ⊃!q)/Pr(p ⊃ q); pf((p1 ^  p2) ⊃!q)/pr(p1 ^  p2 ⊃q); pf((p1 ^ p2 ^  p3) ⊃!q)/pr(p1 ^  p2 ^  p3 ^  p4 ⊃q); pf (all things before me ⊃!q)/pr (all things before me ⊃ q); pf (all things considered ⊃ !q)/pr(all things considered ⊃ q); !q/|- q; G wills !q/G judges q. Strictly, Grice avoids using the noun probability (other than for the title of this or that lecture). One has to use the sentence-modifier ‘probably,’ and ‘desirably.’ So the specific correlative to the buletic prima facie ‘desirably’ is the doxastic ‘probably.’ Grice liked the Roman sound to ‘prima facie,’ ‘at first sight’:  “exceptio, quae prima facie justa videatur.” Refs.: The two main sources are “Probability, desirability, and mood operators,” c. 2-f. 11, and “Modality, desirability and probability,” c. 8-ff. 14-15. But most of the material is collected in “Aspects,” especially in the third and fourth lectures. The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

Detachability. How to interpret this in an one-off predicament. Cf. non-detachability. And the other features or tests or catalysts that Grice uses. In Causal Theory of Perception, the ideas are FOUR, which he nicely summarises in WoW on the occasion of eliminating the excursus. And then he expands on Essay II, as an update. His tutees at Oxford are aware of the changes. Few care, though. Even his colleagues don’t, they are into their own things. So let’s compare the two versions of the catalysts in Causal and Essay II. Version of the four catalysts up to the first two examples in “Causal”: The first cxample is a stock case of what is sometimes called " prcsupposition " and it is often held that here 1he truth of what is irnplicd is a necessary condition of the original statement's beirrg cither true or false. This might be disputed, but it is at lcast arguable that it is so, and its being arguable might be enough to distinguish-this type of case from others. I shall however for convenience assume that the common view mentioned is correct. This consideration clearly distinguishes (1) from (2); even if the implied proposition were false, i.e. if there were no reason in the world to contrast poverty with honesty either in general or in her case, the original statement could still be false; it would be false if for example she were rich and dishonest. One might perhaps be less comfortable about assenting to its truth if the implied contrast did not in fact obtain; but the possibility of falsity is enough for the immediate purpose. My next experiment on these examples is to ask what it is in each case which could properly be said to be the vehicle of implication (to do the implying). There are at least four candidates, not necessarily mutually exclusive. Supposing someone to have uttered one or other of my sample sentences, we may ask whether the vehicle of implication would be (a) what the speaker said (or asserted), or (b) the speaker (" did he imply that . . . .':) or (c) the words the speaker used, or (d) his saying that (or again his saying that in that way); or possibly some plurality of these items. As regards (a) I think (1) and (2) differ; I think it would be correct to say in the case of (l) that what he speaker said (or asserted) implied that Smith had been beating this wife, and incorrect to say in the case of (2) that what te said (or asserted) implied that there was a contrast between e.g., honesty and poverty. A test on which I would rely is the following : if accepting that the implication holds involves one in r27 128 H. P. GRICE accepting an hypothetical' if p then q ' where 'p ' represents the original statement and ' q' represents what is implied, then what the speaker said (or asserted) is a vehicle of implication, otherwise not. To apply this rule to the given examples, if I accepted the implication alleged to hold in the case of (1), I should feel compelled to accept the hypothetical " If Smith has left off beating his wife, then he has been beating her "; whereas if I accepted the alleged implication in the case of (2), I should not feel compelled to accept the hypothetical " If she was poor but honest, then there is some contrast between poverty and honesty, or between her poverty and her honesty." The other candidates can be dealt with more cursorily; I should be inclined to say with regard to both (l) and (2) that the speaker could be said to have implied whatever it is that is irnplied; that in the case of (2) it seems fairly clear that the speaker's words could be said to imply a contrast, whereas it is much less clear whether in the case of (1) the speaker's words could be said to imply that Smith had been beating his wife; and that in neither case would it be evidently appropriate to speak of his saying that, or of his saying that in that way, as implying what is implied. The third idea with which I wish to assail my two examples is really a twin idea, that of the detachability or cancellability of the implication. (These terms will be explained.) Consider example (1): one cannot fi.nd a form of words which could be used to state or assert just what the sentence " Smith has left off beating his wife " might be used to assert such that when it is used the implication that Smith has been beating his wife is just absent. Any way of asserting what is asserted in (1) involves the irnplication in question. I shall express this fact by saying that in the case of (l) the implication is not detqchable from what is asserted (or simpliciter, is not detachable). Furthermore, one cannot take a form of words for which both what is asserted and what is implied is the same as for (l), and then add a further clause withholding commitment from what would otherwise be implied, with the idea of annulling the implication without annulling the assertion. One cannot intelligibly say " Smith has left off beating his wife but I do not mean to imply that he has been beating her." I shall express this fact by saying that in the case of (1) the implication is not cancellable (without THE CAUSAL THEORY OF PERCEPTION r29 cancelling the assertion). If we turn to (2) we find, I think, that there is quite a strong case for saying that here the implication ls detachable. Thcrc sccms quitc a good case for maintaining that if, instead of sayirrg " She is poor but shc is honcst " I were to say " She is poor and slre is honcst", I would assert just what I would havc asscrtcct ii I had used thc original senterrce; but there would now be no irnplication of a contrast between e.g', povery and honesty. But the question whether, in tl-re case of (2), thc inrplication is cancellable, is slightly more cornplex. Thcrc is a sonse in which we may say that it is non-cancellable; if sorncone were to say " She is poor but she is honest, though of course I do not mean to imply that there is any contrast between poverty and honesty ", this would seem a puzzling and eccentric thing to have said; but though we should wish to quarrel with the speaker, I do not think we should go so far as to say that his utterance was unintelligible; we should suppose that he had adopted a most peculiar way of conveying the the news that she was poor and honesl. The fourth and last test that I wish to impose on my exarnples is to ask whether we would be inclined to regard the fact that the appropriate implication is present as being a matter of the meaning of some particular word or phrase occurring in the sentences in question. I am aware that this may not be always a very clear or easy question to answer; nevertheless Iwill risk the assertion that we would be fairly happy to say that, as regards (2), the factthat the implication obtains is a matter of the meaning of the word ' but '; whereas so far as (l) is concerned we should have at least some inclination to say that the presence of the implication was a matter of the meaning of some of the words in the sentence, but we should be in some difficulty when it came to specifying precisely which this word, or words are, of which this is true. After third example introduced:It is plain that there is no case at all for regarding the truth of what is implied here as a pre-condition of the truth or falsity cf 130 H. P. GRICB what I have asserted; a denial of the truth of what is implied would have no bearing at all on whether what I have asserted is true or false. So (3) is much closer to (2) than (1) in this respect. Next, I (the speaker) could certainly be said to have implied that Jones is hopeless (provided that this is what I intended to get across) and my saying that (at any rate my saying /s/ that and no more) is also certainly a vehicle of implication. On the other hand my words and what I say (assert) are, I think, not here vehicles of implication. (3) thus differs from both (1) and (2). The implication is cancellable but not detachable; if I add o'I do not of course mean to imply that he is no good at philosophy " my whole utterance is intelligible and linguistically impeccable, even though it may be extraordinary tutorial behaviour; and I can no longer be said to have implied that he was no good, even though perhaps that is what my colleagues might conclude to be the case if I had nothing else to say. The implication is not however, detachable; any other way of making, in the same context of utterance, just the assertion I have made would involve the same implication. Finally, the fact that the implication holds is not a matter of any particular word or phrase within the sentence which I have uttered; so in this respect (3) is certainly different from (2) and, possibly different from (1). One obvious fact should be mentioned before I pass to the last example. This case of implication is unlike the others in that the utterance of the sentence " Jones has beautiful handwriting etc." does not standardly involve the implication here attributed to it; it requires a special context (that it should be uttered at Collections) to attach the implication to its uttgrance. After fourth and last example is introduced: in the case of (a) I can produce a strong argument in favour of holding that the fulfllment of the THE CAUSAL THEORY OF PERCEPTION implication of the speaker's ignorance is not a precaution of the truth or falsity of the disjunctive statement. Suppose (c) that the speaker knows that his wife is in the kitchen, (b) that the house has only two rooms (and no passages etc.) Even though (a) is the casc, thc spcaker can certainly say truly " My wife is in the housc "; he is merely not being as informative as he could bc if nccd arose. But the true proposition that his wife is in thc housc together with the true proposition that the house consists entirely of a kitchen and a bedroom, entail the proposition that his wife is either in the kitchen or in the bedroom. But il to cxpress the proposition p in certain circumstances would bc to spcak truly, and p, togelher with another true proposition, crrtails q, then surely to express 4 in the same circvmstances must be to speak truly. So I shall take it that the disjunctive statement in (4) does not fail to be true or false if the implied ignorance is in fact not realized. Secondly, I think it is fairly clear that in this case, as in the case of (3), we could say that the speaker had irnplied that he did not know, and also that his saying that (or his saying that rather than something else, v2., in which room she was) implied that he did not know. Thirdly, the irnplication is in a sense non-detachable, in that if in a given context the utterance of the disjunctive sentence would involve the implication that the speaker did not know in which room his his wife was, this implication would also be involved in the utterance of any other form of words which would make the same assertion(e.g., "The alternatives are (1) .(2) " or " One of the following things is the case: (a) (r) "). ln another possible sense, however, the implication could perhaps bc said to be detachable: for there will be some contexls of ruttcrance in Which the normal implication will not hold; e.g., thc spokesman who announces, " The next conference will be cither in Geneva or in New York " perhaps does not imply that lrc does not know which; for he may well be just not saying which. This points to the fact that the implication is cancellablg; :r nrarl could say, " My wife is either in the kitchen or in the bctlroorn " in circumstances in which the implication would rrornrally be present, and then go on, " Mind you, I'm not saying tlrrrt I don't know which"; this might be unfriendly (and grcr'lrrps ungrammatical) but would be perfectly intelligible, I2 131 132 H. P. GRICB Finally, the fact that the utterance of the disjunctive sentence normally involves the implication of the speaker's ignorance of the truth-values of the disjuncts is, I should like to say, to be explained by reference to a general principle governing the use of language. Exactly what this principle is I am uncertain, but L first sftol would be the following: "One should not make a weaker statement rather than a stronger one unless there is a good reason for so doing." This is certainly not an adequate formulation but will perhaps be good enough for my present purpose. On the assumption that such a principle as this is of general application, one can draw the conclusion that the utterance of a disjunctive sentence would imply the speaker's ignorance of the truth-values of the disjuncts, given that (a) the obvious reason for not making a statemcnt which there is some call on one to make is that one is not in a position to make it, and given (6) the logical fact that each disjunct entails the disjunctive, but not vice versa; which being so, the disjuncts are stronger than the disjunctive. lf the outline just given js on the right lines, then I would wish to say, we have a reason for refusing in the case of (4) to regard the implication of the speaker's ignorance as being part of the meaning of the word'or'; someone who knows about the logical relation between a disjunction and its disjuncts, and who also knew about the alleged general principle governing discourse, could work out for hirnself that disjunctive utterances would involve the implication which they do in fact involve. I must insist, however, that my aim in discussing this last point has been merelyto indicate the position I would wish to take up, and not to argue scriously in favour of it. My main purpose in this sub-section has been to introduce four ideas of which l intend to make some use; and to provide some conception of tlre ways in which they apply or fail to apply to various types of implication. By the numbering of it, it seems he has added an extra. It’s FIVE catalysts now. He’ll go back to them in Essay IV, and in Presupposition and Conversational Impicature. He needs those catalysts. Why? It seems like he is always thinking that someone will challenge him! This is Grice: “We can now show that, it having been stipulated as being what it is, a conversational implicatum must possess certain features. Or rather here are some catalyst ideas which will help us to determine or individuate. Four tests for implicatum as it were. First, CANCELLABILITY – as noted in “Causal Theory” – for two of the examples (‘beautiful handwriting’ and ‘kitchen or bedroom’ and NEGATIVE version of “You don’t cease to eat iron”) and the one of the pillar box -- Since, to assume the presence of a conversational implicum, we have to assume that the principle of conversational co-operation is being observed, and since it is possible to opt out of the observation of this principle, it follows that an implicatum can be canceled in a particular case. It may be explicitly canceled, if need there be, by the addition of a clause by which the utterer states or implies that he  has opted out (e. g. “The pillar box seems red but it is.”). Then again it may be contextually (or implicitly) canceled (e. g. to a very honest person, who knows I disbelieve the examiner exists, “The loyalty examiner won’t be summoning you at any rate”). The utterance that usually would carry an implicatum is used on an occasion that makes it clear or obvious that the utterer IS opting out without having to bore his addressee by making this obviousness explicit. There is a second litmus test or catalyst idea. nsofar as the calculation that a implicatum is present requires, besides contextual and background information only a knowledge or understanding or processing of what has been said or explicitly conveyed (‘are you playing squash? B shows bandaged leg) (or the ‘conventional’ ‘commitment’ of the utterance), and insofar as the manner or style, of FORM, rather than MATTER, of expression plays no role in the calculation, it will NOT be possible to find another way of explicitly conveying or putting forward the same thing, the same so-and-so (say that q follows from p) which simply ‘lacks’ the unnecessary implicatum in question -- except [will his excluders never end?] where some special feature of the substituted version [this other way which he says is not conceivable] is itself relevant to the determination of the implicatum (in virtue of this or that conversational maxims pertaining to the category of conversational mode. If we call this feature, as Grice does in “Causal Theory,” ‘non-detachability’ – in that the implicatum cannot be detached from any alternative expression that makes the same point -- one may expect the implicatum carried by this or that locution to have a high degree of non-detachability. ALTERNATIVES FOR “NOT” Not, it is not the case, it is false that. There’s nothing unique about ‘not’.ALTERNATIVES FOR “AND” and, nothing, furthermore, but. There isnothing unique about ‘and’ALTERNATIVES FOR “OR”: One of the following is true. There is nothing unique about ‘or’ALTERNATIVES FOR “IF” Provided. ‘There is nothing unique about ‘if’ALTERNATIVES FOR “THE” – There is at least one and at most one. And it exists. (existence and uniqueness). There is nothing unique about ‘the’.THIS COVERS STRAWSON’S first problem.What about the other English philosophers?AUSTIN – on ‘voluntarily’ ALTERNATIVES to ‘voluntarily,’ with the will, willingly, intentionally. Nothing unique about ‘voluntarily.’STRAWSON on ‘true’ – it is the case, redundance theory, nothing. Nothing unique about ‘true’HART ON good. To say that ‘x is commendable’ is to recommend x. Nothing unique about ‘good.’HART on ‘carefully.’ Da Vinci painted Mona Lisa carefully, with caution, with precaution. Nothing unique about ‘carefully.’THIRD LITMUS TEST or idea. To speak approximately, since the calculation of the presence of an implicatum presupposes an initial knowledge, or grasping, or understanding, or taking into account of the ‘conventional’ force (not in Austin’s sense, but translating Latin ‘vis’) of the expression the utterance of which carries the implicatum, a conversational implicatum will be a condition that is NOT, be definition, on risk of circularity of otiosity, included in the original specification of the expression's conventional force. If I’m saying that ‘seems’ INVOLVES, as per conventional force, ‘doubt or denial,’what’s my point? If Strawson is right that ‘if’ has the conventional force of conventionally committing the utterer with the belief that q follows from p, why bother? And if that were so, how come the implicatum is still cancellable?Though it may not be impossible for what starts life, so to speak, as a conversational implicature to become conventionalized, to suppose that this is so in a given case would require special justification. (Asking Lewis). So, initially at least, a conversational implicatum is, by definition and stipulation, not part of the sense, truth-condition, conventional force, or part of what is explicitly conveyed or put forward, or ‘meaning’ of the expression to the employment of which the impicatum attaches. FOURTH LITMUS TEST or catalyst idea.Mentioned in “Causal theory” The alethic value – conjoined with the test about the VEHICLE --. He has these as two different tests in “Causal”. Since the truth of a conversational implicatum is not required by (is not a condition for) the truth of what is said or explicitly conveyed (what is said or explicated – the explicatum or explcitum, or what is explicitly conveyed or communicated) may be true -- what is implicated may be false – that he has beautiful handwriting, that q follows from p, that the utterer is ENDORSING what someone else said, that the utterer is recommending x, that the person who is said to act carefully has taken precaution), the implicatum is NOT carried by what is said or the EXPLICATUM or EXPLICITUM, or is explicitly conveyed, but only by the ‘saying’ or EXPLICATING or EXPLICITING of what is said or of the explicatum or explicitum, or by 'putting it that way.’.The fifth and last litmus test or catalyst idea. Since, to calculate a conversational implicatum is to calculate what has to be supposed in order to preserve the supposition that the utterer is a rational, benevolent, altruist agent, and that the principle of conversational cooperation is being observed, and since there may be various possible specific explanations or alternatives that fill the gap here – as to what is the content of the psychological attitude to be ascribed to the utterer, a list of which may be open, or open-ended, the conversational implicatum in such cases will technically be an open-ended disjunction of all such specific explanations, which may well be infinitely non-numerable. Since the list of these IS open, the implicatum will have just the kind of INDETERMINACY or lack of determinacy that an implicatum appears in most cases to possess.

deutero-esperanto: Arbitrariness need not be a two-party thing. E communicates to himself that there is danger by drawing a skull. Grice genially opposed to the idea of a convention. He hated a convention. A language is not conventional. Meaning is not conventional. Communication is not conventional. He was even unhappy with the account of convention by Lewis in terms of an arbitrary co-ordination. While the co-ordination bit passes rational muster, the arbitrary element is deemed a necessary condition, and Grice hated that. For Grice there is natural, and iconic. When a representation ceases to be iconic and becomes, for lack of a better expression, non-iconic, things get, we may assume conventional. One form of correlation in his last definition of meaing allows for a conventional correlation. “Pain!,” the P cries. There is nothing in /pein/ that minimally resembles the pain the P is suffering. So from his involuntary “Ouch” to his simulated “Ouch,” he thinks he can say “Pain.” Bennett explored the stages after that. The dog is shaggy is Grices example. All sorts of resultant procedures are needed for reference and predication, which may be deemed conventional. One may refer nonconventionally, by ostension. It seems more difficult to predicate non-conventionally. But there may be iconic predication. Urquhart promises twelve parts of speech: each declinable in eleven cases, four numbers, eleven genders (including god, goddess, man, woman, animal, etc.); and conjugable in eleven tenses, seven moods, and four voices. The language will translate any idiom in any other language, without any alteration of the literal sense, but fully representing the intention. Later, one day, while lying in his bath, Grice designed deutero-esperanto. The obble is fang may be current only for Griceian members of the class of utterers. It is only this or that philosophers practice to utter The obble is fang in such-and-such circumstances. In this case, the utterer U does have a readiness to utter The obble is feng in such-and-such circumstances. There is also the scenario in which The obble is fang is may be conceived by the philosopher not to be deemed current at all, but the utterance of The obble is feng in such-and-such circumstances is part of some system of communication which the utterer U (Lockwith,, Urquart, Wilkins, Edmonds, Grice) has devised but which has never been put into operation, like the highway code which Grice invent another day again while lying in his bath. In that case, U does this or that basic or resultant procedure for the obble is feng in an attenuated but philosophically legitimate fashion. U has envisaged a possible system of practices which involve a readiness to utter Example by Grice that does NOT involve a convention in this usage. Surely Grice can as he indeed did, invent a language, call it Deutero-Esperanto, Griceish, or Pirotese, which nobody at Oxford ever uses to communicat. That makes Grice the authority - cf. arkhe, authority, government (in plural), "authorities" - and Grice can lay down, while lying in the tub, no doubt - what is proper. A P can be said to potch of some obble o as fang or as feng. Also to cotch of some obble o, as fang or feng; or to cotch of one obble o and another obble o as being fid to one another.” In symbols: (Ex)(Ey).Px ^ Oy ^ potch(x, y, fang) (Ex)(Ey).Px ^ Oy ^ potch(x, y, feng) (Ex)(Ey).Px ^ Oy ^ cotch(x, y, fang) (Ex)(Ey).Px ^ Ox ^ cotch(x, y, feng) (Ex)(Ey).Px ^ Oz ^ Oy ^ cotch(x, fid(y,z)). Let’s say that Ps (as Russell and Carnap conceived them) inhabit a world of obbles, material objects, or things. To potch is something like to perceive; to cotch something like to think. Feng and fang are possible descriptions, much like our adjectives. Fid is a possible relation between obbles. Grice provides a symbolisation for content internalisation.  The perceiver or cognitive Subjects perceives or cognises two objects, x, y, as holding a relation of some type.  There is a higher level that Ps can reach when the object of their potchings and cotchings is not so much objects but states of affairs.  Its then that the truth-functional operators will be brought to existence “^”: cotch(p ^ q) “V”:  cotch(p v q) “)”: )-cotch(p ) q)  A P will be able to reject a content, refuse-thinking: ~. Cotch(~p). When P1 perceives P2, the reciprocals get more complicated.  P2 cotches that P1!-judges that p.  Grice uses ψ1 for potching and ψ2 for cotching. If P2 is co-operative, and abides by "The Ps Immanuel," P2 will honour, in a Kantian benevolent way, his partners goal by adopting temporarily his partners goal potch(x (portch(y, !p)) ⊃ potch(x, !p). But by then, its hardly simpler ways. Especially when the Ps outdo their progenitor Carnap as metaphysicians. The details are under “eschatology,” but the expressions are here “α izzes α.” This would be the principle of non-contradiction or identity. P1 applies it war, and utters War is war which yields a most peculiar implicature. “if α izzes β ∧ β izzes γ, α izz γ.” This is transitivity, which is crucial for Ps to overcome Berkeley’s counterexample to Locke, and define their identity over time. “if α hazzes β, α izzes β.” Or, what is accidental is not essential. A P may allow that what is essential is accidental while misleading, is boringly true. “α hazzes β iff α hazzes x ∧ x izzes β.” “If β is a katholou or universalium, β is an eidos or forma.” For surely Ps need not be stupid to fail to see squarrelhood. “if α hazzes β ∧ α izzes a particular, γ≠α ∧ α izz β.” “α izzes predicable of β iff ((β izzes α) ∨ (∃x)(β hazzes x ∧ x izzes α). “α izzes essentially predicable of β ⊃⊂ β izzes α  α izzes non-essentially/accidentally predicable of β ⊃⊂ (∃x)(β hazzes x ∧ x izzes α). α = β iff α izzes β ∧ β izzes α. “α izzes an atomon, or individuum ⊃⊂ □(∀β)(β izzes α ⊃ α izzes β). “α izzes a particular ⊃⊂ □(∀β)(α izzes predicable of β ⊃ (α izzes β ∧ β izzes α)). α izzes a universalium ⊃⊂ ◊(∃β)(α izzes predicable of α ∧ ~(α izzes β ∧ β izzes α). α izzes some-thing ⊃ α izzes an individuum. α izzes an eidos or forma ⊃ (α izzes some-thing ∧ α izzes a universalium); α izzes predicable of β ⊃⊂ (β izzes α) ∨ (∃x)(β hazzes x ∧ x izzes α). “ α izzes essentially predicable of α  α izzes accidentally predicable of β ⊃ α ≠ β.  ~(α izzes accidentally predicable of β) ⊃ α ≠ β. α izzes an kathekaston or particular ⊃ α izzes an individuum; α izz a particular ⊃ ~(∃x)(x ≠ α ∧ x izz α). ~(∃x).(x izzes a particular ∧ x izzes a forma)  ⊢ α izzes a forma ⊃ ~(∃x)(x ≠ α ∧ x izzes α). x izzes a particular ⊃ ~(∃β)(α izzes β); α izzes a forma ⊃ ((α izzes predicable of β ∧ α ≠ β) ⊃ β hazzes α);  α izzes a forma ∧ β izzes a particular ⊃ (α izzes predicable of β ⊃⊂ β hazzes A); (α izzes a particular ∧ β izzes a universalium ∧ β izzes predicable of α) ⊃ (∃γ)(α ≠ γ ∧ γ izzes essentially predicable of α). (∃x) (∃y)(x izzes a particular ∧ y izzes a universalium ∧ y izzes predicable of x ⊃ ~(∀x)(x izzes a universalium ∧ x izzes some-thing).  (∀β)(β izzes a universalium ⊃ β izzes some-thing). α izzes a particular) ⊃ ~∃β.(α ≠ β ∧ β izzes essentially predicable of α). (α izzes predicable of β ∧ α ≠ β) ⊃ α izzes non-essentially or accidentally predicable of β.   Grice is following a Leibnizian tradition. A philosophical language is any constructed language that is constructed from first principles or certain ideologies.  It is considered a type of engineered language.  Philosophical languages were popular in Early Modern times, partly motivated by the goal of recovering the lost Adamic or Divine language.  The term “ideal language” is sometimes used near-synonymously, though more modern philosophical languages such as “Toki Pona” are less likely to involve such an exalted claim of perfection.  It may be known as a language of pure ideology.  The axioms and grammars of the languages together differ from commonly spoken languages today.  In most older philosophical languages, and some newer ones, words are constructed from a limited set of morphemes that are treated as "elemental" or fundamental. "Philosophical language" is sometimes used synonymously with "taxonomic language", though more recently there have been several conlangs constructed on philosophical principles which are not taxonomic. Vocabularies of oligo-synthetic communication-systems are made of compound expressions, which are coined from a small (theoretically minimal) set of morphemes; oligo-isolating communication-systems, such as Toki Pona, similarly use a limited set of root words but produce phrases which remain s. of distinct words.  Toki Pona is based on minimalistic simplicity, incorporating elements of Taoism. Láadan is designed to lexicalize and grammaticalise the concepts and distinctions important to women, based on muted group theory.  A priori languages are constructed languages where the vocabulary is invented directly, rather than being derived from other existing languages (as with Esperanto, or Grices Deutero-Esperanto, or Pirotese or Ido). It all starts when Carnap claims to know that pritos karulise elatically. Grice as engineer.  Pirotese is the philosophers engaging in Pology. Actually, Pirotese is the lingo the Ps parrot. Ps karulise elatically. But not all of them. Grice finds that the Pological talk allows to start from zero.  He is constructing a language, (basic) Pirotese, and the philosophical psychology and world that that language is supposed to represent or denote.  An obble is a Ps object. Grice introduces potching and cotching. To potch, in Pirotese, is what a P does with an obble: he perceives it. To cotch is Pirotese for what a P can further do with an obble: know or cognise it. Cotching, unlike potching, is factive.  Pirotese would not be the first language invented by a philosopher. Refs.: While the reference to “Deutero-Esperanto’ comes from “Meaning revisited,” other keywords are useful, notably “Pirotese” and “Symbolo.” Also keywords like “obble,” and “pirot.” The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

diagoge: Cf. Grice’s emphasis on the ‘argument’ involved in the conversational implciatum, though. To work out an impilcatum is to reach it ‘by argument.’ No argument, no conversational implicatum. But cf. argument in Emissor draws skull and communicates that there is danger. ARGUMENT involved in that Emissor intends his addressee WILL REASON. Can the lady communicate to the pigeons that she is selling ‘twopence a bag’ for their pleasure? Grice contrasted epagoge with diagoge. Cooperation with competition. Cooperative game with competitive game. But epagoge is induction, so here we’ll consider his views on probability and how it contrastds with diagoge. The diagoge is easy to identity: Grice is a social animal, with the BA, Philosophy, conferences, discussion, The American Philosophical Association, transcripts by Randall Parker, from the audio-tapes contained in c. 10 within the same s. IV miscellaneous, Beanfest, transcripts and audio-cassettes, s. IV, c. 6-f. 8, and f. 10, and s. V, c. 8-f.  4-8 Unfortunately, Parker typed carulise for karulise, or not. Re: probability, Grice loves to reminisce an anecdote concerning his tutor Hardie at Corpus when Hardie invoked Mills principles to prove that Hardie was not responsible for a traffic jam. In drafts on word play, Grice would speak of not bringing more Grice to your Mill. Mills System of Logic was part of the reading material for his degree in Lit. Hum.at Oxford, so he was very familiar with it. Mill represents the best of the English empiricist tradition. Grice kept an interest on inductive methodology. In his Life and opinions he mentions some obscure essays by Kneale and Keynes on the topic. Grice was interested in Kneales secondary induction, since Grice saw this as an application of a construction routine. He was also interested in Keyness notion of a generator property, which he found metaphysically intriguing. Induction. Induction ‒ Mill’s Induction, induction, deduction, abduction, Mill. More Grice to the Mill. Grice loved Hardies playing with Mill’s method of difference with an Oxford copper. He also quotes Kneale and Keynes on induction. Note that his seven-step derivation of akrasia relies on an inductive step! Grice was fortunate to associate with Davidson, whose initial work is on porbability. Grice borrows from Davidson the idea that inductive probability, or probable, attaches to the doxastic, while prima facie attaches to desirably, or desirability.  Jeffreys notion of desirability is partition-invariant in that if a proposition, A, can be expressed as the disjoint disjunction of both {B1, B2, B3} and {C1, C2, C3}, ∑ Bi ∈ AProb (Bi ∣∣ A). Des (Bi) = ∑Ci ∈ A Prob (Ci ∣∣ A). Des (Ci). It follows that applying the rule of desirability maximization will always lead to the same recommendation, irrespective of how the decision problem is framed, while an alternative theory may recommend different courses of action, depending on how the decision problem is formulated.  Here, then, is the analogue of Jeffreys desirability axiom (D), applied to sentences rather than propositions: (D) (prob(s and t) = 0 and prob(s or t) "# 0, ⊃ d ( ) prob(s)des(s)+ prob(t)des(t) es s or t =-"---- prob( s) + prob(t ) (Grice writes prob(s) for the Subjectsive probability of sand des(s) for the desirability or utility of s.) B. Jeffrey admits that "desirability" (his terms for evidential value) does not directly correspond to any single pre-theoretical notion of desire. Instead, it provides the best systematic explication of the decision theoretic idea, which is itself our best effort to make precise the intuitive idea of weighing options. As Jeffrey remarks, it is entirely possibly to desire someone’s love when you already have it. Therefore, as Grice would follow, Jeffrey has the desirability operator fall under the scope of the probability operator. The agents desire that p provided he judges that p does not obtain. Diagoge/epagoge, Grices audio-files, the audio-files, audio-files of various lectures and conferences, some seminars with Warner and J. Baker, audio files of various lectures and conferences. Subjects: epagoge, diagoge. A previous folder in the collection contains the transcripts. These are the audio-tapes themselves, obviously not in folder. The kind of metaphysical argument which I have in mind might be said, perhaps, to exemplify a dia-gogic or trans-ductive as opposed to epa-gogic or in-ductive approach to philosophical argumentation. Hence Short and Lewis have, for ‘diagoge,’ the cognates of ‘trādūco,’ f. transduco. Now, the more emphasis is placed on justification by elimination of the rival, the greater is the impetus given to refutation, whether of theses or of people. And perhaps a greater emphasis on a diagogic procedure, if it could be shown to be justifiable, would have an eirenic effect. Cf. Aristotle on diagoge, schole, otium. Liddell and Scott have “διαγωγή,” which they render as “literally carrying across,” -- “τριήρων” Polyaen.5.2.6, also as “carrying through,” and “hence fig.” “ἡ διὰ πάντων αὐτῶν δ., “taking a person through a subject by instruction, Pl. Ep.343; so, course of instruction, lectures, ἐν τῇ ἐνεστώσῃ δ. prob. in Phld. Piet.25; also passing of life, way or course of life, “δ. βίου” Pl. R.344e: abs., Id. Tht.177a, etc., way of passing time, amusement, “δ. μετὰ παιδιᾶς” Arist. EN 1127b34, cf. 1177a27; “δ. ἐλευθέριος” Id. Pol.1339b5; διαγωγαὶ τοῦ συζῆν public pastimes, ib.1280b37, cf. Plu.126b (pl.). also delay, D.C. 57.3. management, τῶν πραγμάτων δ. dispatch of business, Id.48.5. IV. station for ships, f. l. in Hdn.4.2.8. And there are other entries to consider: διαγωγάν: διαίρεσιν, διανομήν, διέλευσιν. Grice knew what he was talking about! Refs.: The main sources listed under ‘desirability,’ above. There is a specific essay on ‘probability and life.’ Good keywords, too, are epagoge and induction The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

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

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

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

disimplicatum: “We should not conclude from this that an implication of the existence of thing said to be seen is NOT part of the conventional meaning of ‘see’ nor even (as some philosophers have done) that there is one sense of ‘see’ which lacks this implication!” (WoW:44). If Oxonians are obsessed with ‘implication,’ do they NEED ‘disimplicature’? Grice doesn’t think so! But sometimes you have to use it to correct a mistake. Grice does not give names, but he says he has heard a philosopher claim that there are two SENSES of ‘see,’ one which what one sees exists, and one in which it doesn’t! It would be good to trace that! It relates, in any case to ‘remembers,’but not quite, and to ‘know.’ But not quite. The issue of ‘see’ is not that central, since Grice realizes that it is just a modality of perception, even if crucial. He coined ‘visum’ with Warnock to play with the idea of ‘what is seen’ NOT being existent.  On another occasion, when he cannot name a ridiculous philosopher, he invents him: “A philosopher will not be given much credit if he comes with an account of the indefinite ‘one’ as having three senses: one proximate to the emissor (“I broke a finger”), one distant (“He’s meeting a woman”) and one where the link is not specified (“A flower”). he target is of course Davidson having the cheek to quote Grice’s Henriette Herz Trust lecture for the BA! Lewis and Short have ‘intendere’ under ‘in-tendo,’ which they render as ‘to stretch out or forth, extend, also to turn ones attention to, exert one’s self for, to purpose, endeavour,” and finaly as “intend”! “pergin, sceleste, intendere hanc arguere?” Plaut. Mil. 2, 4, 27 Grices tends towards claiming that you cannot extend what you dont intend. In the James lectures, Grice mentions the use of is to mean seem (The tie is red in this light), and see to mean hallucinate. Denying Existence: The Logic, Epistemology and Pragmatics of ...books.google.com › books ... then it seems unidiomatic if not ungrammatical to speak of hallucinations as ... that fighting people and 156 APPEARING UNREALS 4 Two Senses of "See"? A. Chakrabarti - 1997 - ‎Language Arts & Disciplines    The Claim of Reason: Wittgenstein, Skepticism, Morality, and ...books.google.com › books sight, say sense-data; others will then say that there are two senses of 'see'. ... wrong because I am dreaming or hallucinating them, which of course could ... Stanley Cavell - 1999 - ‎Philosophy    Wittgenstein and Perception - Page 37 - Google Books Resultbooks.google.com › books For example, Gilbert Harman characterises the two senses of see as follows: see† = 'the ... which is common to genuine cases of seeing and to hallucinations. Michael Campbell, ‎Michael O'Sullivan - 2015 - ‎Philosophy    The Alleged Ambiguity of'See'www.jstor.org › stable including dreams, hallucinations and the perception of physical objects. ... existence of at least two senses of ' see' were his adherence to the doctrine that 'see' ... by AR White - ‎1963 - ‎Cited by 3 - ‎Related articles    Seeing and Naming - jstorwww.jstor.org › stable there are or aren't two senses of 'see'. If there are, I'm speaking of ... The third kind of case is illustrated by Macbeth's dagger hallucination, at least if we assume ... by RJ Hall - ‎1977 - ‎Cited by 3 - ‎Related articles    Philosophy at LaGuardia Community Collegewww.laguardia.edu › Philosophy › GADFLY-2011 PDF Lastly, I will critically discuss Ayer's two senses of 'see', ... (e.g., hallucinations); it thus seems correct to say that ... Hallucinations are hallucinations. There are.    Talking about seeing: An examination of some aspects of the ...etd.ohiolink.edu › ... I propose a distinction between delusions and hallucinations,'and argue ... say that there are two senses of .'see* in ordinary language or not, he does, as I will ... by KA Emmett - ‎1974 - ‎Related articles    Wittgenstein and Perceptionciteseerx.ist.psu.edu › viewdoc › download PDF 2 Two senses of 'see'. 33 ... may see things that are not there, for example in hallucinations. ... And so, hallucinations are not genuine perceptual experiences. by Y Arahata - ‎Related articles    Allen Blur - University of Yorkwww-users.york.ac.uk › Publications_files PDF of subjectively indistinguishable hallucination (e.g. Crane 2006). ... and material objects of sight, and correlatively for a distinction between two senses of 'see',. by K Allen - ‎Related articles    Austin and sense-data - UBC Library Open Collectionsopen.library.ubc.ca › ... › UBC Theses and Dissertations Sep 15, 2011 - (5) Illusions and Hallucinations It is not enough to reject Austin's way of ... I will not deal with Austin and Ayer on "two senses of 'see'" because I ... by DD Todd - ‎1967 - ‎Cited by 1 - ‎Related articles. Godfrey Vesey (1965, p. 73) deposes, "if a person sees something at all it must look like something to him, even if it only looks like 'somebody doing something.' With Davidson, Grice was more cavalier, because he could blame it on a different ‘New-World’ dialect or idiolect, about ‘intend.’ When Grice uses ‘disimplicatum’ to apply to ‘cream in coffee’ that is a bit tangential – and refers more generally to his theory of communication. What would the rationale of disimplicatum be? In this case, if the emissee realizes the obvious category mistake (“She’s not the cream in your coffee”) there may be a need to disimplicate explicitly. To consider. There is an example that he gives that compares with ‘see’ and it is even more philosophical but he doesn’t give examples: to use ‘is’ when one means ‘seem’ (the tie example).  The reductive analyses of being and seeing hold. We have here two cases of loose use (or disimplicature). Same now with his example in “Intention and Uncertainty” (henceforth, “Uncertainty”): Smith intends to climb Mt. Everest + [common-ground status: this is difficult]. Grices response to Davidsons pretty unfair use of Grices notion of conversational implicature in Davidsons analysis of intention caught a lot of interest. Pears loved Grices reply. Implicatum here is out of the question ‒ disimplicatum may not. Grice just saw that his theory of conversation is too social to be true when applied to intending. The doxastic condition is one of the entailments in an ascription of an intending. It cannot be cancelled as an implicatum can. If it can be cancelled, it is best seen as a disimplicatum, or a loose use by an utterer meaning less than what he says or explicitly conveys to more careful conversants. Grice and Davidson were members of The Grice and Davidson Mutual Admiration Society. Davidson, not being Oxonian, was perhaps not acquainted with Grices polemics at Oxford with Hart and Hampshire (where Grice sided with Pears, rather). Grice and Pears hold a minimalist approach to intending. On the other hand, Davidson makes what Grice sees as the same mistake again of building certainty into the concept. Grice finds that to apply the idea of a conversational implicatum at this point is too social to be true. Rather, Grice prefers to coin the conversational disimplicatum: Marmaduke Bloggs intends to climb Mt Everest on hands and knees. The utterance above, if merely reporting what Bloggs thinks, may involve a loose use of intends. The certainty on the agents part on the success of his enterprise is thus cast with doubt. Davidson was claiming that the agents belief in the probability of the object of the agents intention was a mere conversational implicatum on the utterers part. Grice responds that the ascription of such a belief is an entailment of a strict use of intend, even if, in cases where the utterer aims at a conversational disimplicatum, it can be dropped.  The addressee will still regard the utterer as abiding by the principle of conversational helpfulness. Pears was especially interested in the Davidson-Grice polemic on intending, disimplicature, disimplicature. Strictly, a section of his reply to Davidson. If Grices claim to fame is implicature, he finds disimplicature an intriguing notion to capture those occasions when an utterer means LESS than he says. His examples include: a loose use of intending (without the entailment of the doxastic condition), the uses of see in Shakespeareian contexts (Macbeth saw Banquo, Hamlet saw his father on the ramparts of Elsinore) and the use of is to mean seems (That tie is blue under this light, but green otherwise, when both conversants know that a change of colour is out of the question. He plays with Youre the cream in my coffee being an utterance where the disimplicature (i.e. entailment dropping) is total. Disimplicature does not appeal to a new principle of conversational rationality. It is perfectly accountable by the principle of conversational helpfulness, in particular, the desideratum of conversational candour. In everyday explanation we exploit, as Grice notes, an immense richness in the family of expressions that might be thought of as the wanting family. This wanting family includes expressions like want, desire, would like to, is eager to, is anxious to, would mind not…, the idea of  appeals to me, is thinking of, etc. As Grice remarks, The likeness and differences within this wanting family demand careful attention. In commenting on Davidsons treatment of wanting in Intending, Grice notes: It seems to Grice that the picture of the soul suggested by Davidsons treatment of wanting is remarkably tranquil and, one might almost say, computerized. It is the picture of an ideally decorous board meeting, at which the various heads of sections advance, from the standpoint of their particular provinces, the case for or against some proposed course of action. In the end the chairman passes judgement, effective for action; normally judiciously, though sometimes he is for one reason or another over-impressed with the presentation made by some particular member. Grices soul doesnt seem to him, a lot of the time, to be like that at all. It is more like a particularly unpleasant department meeting, in which some members shout, wont listen, and suborn other members to lie on their behalf; while the chairman, who is often himself under suspicion of cheating, endeavours to impose some kind of order; frequently to no effect, since sometimes the meeting breaks up in disorder, sometimes, though it appears to end comfortably, in reality all sorts of enduring lesions are set up, and sometimes, whatever the outcome of the meeting, individual members go off and do things unilaterally. Could it be that Davidson, of the New World, and Grice, of the Old World, have different idiolects regarding intend? Could well be! It is said that the New World is prone to hyperbole, so perhaps in Grices more cautious use, intend is restricted to the conditions HE wants it to restrict it too! Odd that for all the generosity he displays in Post-war Oxford philosophy (Surely I can help you analyse you concept of this or that, even if my use of the corresponding expression does not agree with yours), he goes to attack Davidson, and just for trying to be nice and apply the conversational implicatum to intend! Genial Grice! It is natural Davidson, with his naturalistic tendencies, would like to see intending as merely invoking in a weak fashion the idea of a strong psychological state as belief. And its natural that Grice hated that! Refs.: The source is Grice’s comment on Davidson on intending. The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

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

distributum: distributio -- undistributed middle: a logical fallacy in traditional syllogistic logic, resulting from the violation of the rule that the middle term (the term that appears twice in premises) must be distributed at least once in the premises. Any syllogism that commits this error is invalid. Consider “All philosophers are persons,” and “Some persons are bad.” No conclusion follows from these two premises because “persons” in the first premise is the predicate of an affirmative proposition, and in the second is the subject of a particular proposition. Neither of them is distributed. “If in a syllogism the middle term is distributed in neither premise, we are said to have a fallacy of undistributed middle.” Keynes, Formal Logic

ditto: Or Strawson’s big mistake. Strawson quite didn’t understand what “Analysis” was for, and submits this essay on the perlocutionary effects of ‘true.’ Grice comes to the resuce of veritable analysis. cf. verum. Grice disliked Strawson’s ditto theory in Analysis of ‘true’ as admittive performatory. 1620s, "in the month of the same name," Tuscan dialectal ditto "(in) the said (month or year)," literary Italian detto, past participle of dire "to say," from Latin dicere "speak, tell, say" (from PIE root *deik- "to show," also "pronounce solemnly").  Italian used the word to avoid repetition of month names in a series of dates, and in this sense it was picked up in English. Its generalized meaning of "the aforesaid, the same thing, same as above" is attested in English by 1670s. In early 19c. a suit of men's clothes of the same color and material through was ditto or dittoes (1755). Dittohead, self-description of followers of U.S. radio personality Rush Limbaugh, attested by 1995. dittoship is from 1869.

dossier: Grice is not clear about the status of this – but some philosophers have been too mentalistic. How would a genitorial programme proceed. Is there a dossier in a handwave by which the emissor communicates that he knows the route or that he is about to leave his emissee. It does not seem so, because the handwave is unstructured. Unlike “Fido is shaggy.” In the case of “Fido is shaggy,” there must be some OVERLAP between the emissor’s soul and the emissee’s soul – in terms of dossier. So perhaps there is overlap in the handwave. There must be an overlap as to WHICH route he means. By making the handwave the emissor communicates that HE, the emissor, subject IS (copula) followed by predicate “knower of the route.” So here we have a definite ‘the route.’ Which route? To heaven, to hell. Cf. The scots ‘high road,’ ‘low road.’ To Loch Lomond. If there is not this minimal common ground nothing can be communicated. In the alternative meaning, “I (subject) am (copula) about to leave you – where again there must be an overlap in the identification of the denotata of the pronouns. In the case of Blackburn’s skull or the arrow at the fork of a road, the common ground is instituted in situu in the one-off predicament, and there still must be some overlap of dossier. In its most technical usage, Grice wants to demystify Donnellan’s identificatory versus non-identificatory uses of ‘the,’ as unnecessary implications to Russell’s otherwise neat account. The topic interested Strawson (“Principle of assumption of ignorance, knowledge and relevance”) and Urmson’s principle of aptitude. Grice’s favourite vacuous name is ‘Bellerophon.’ ‘Vacuous names’ is an essay commissioned by Davison and Hintikka for Words and objections: essays on the work of W. V. Quine (henceforth, W and O) for Reidel, Dordrecht. “W and O” had appeared (without Grices contribution) as a special issue of Synthese. Grices contribution, along with Quines Reply to Grice, appeared only in the reprint of that special issue for Reidel in Dordrecht. Grice cites from various philosophers (and logicians ‒ this was the time when logic was starting to be taught outside philosophy departments, or sub-faculties), such as Mitchell, Myro, Mates, Donnellan, Strawson, Grice was particularly proud to be able to quote Mates by mouth or book. Grice takes the opportunity, in his tribute to Quine, to introduce one of two of his syntactical devices to allow for conversational implicata to be given maximal scope. The device in Vacuous Namess is a subscription device to indicate the ordering of introduction of this or that operation. Grice wants to give room for utterances of a special existential kind be deemed rational/reasonable, provided the principle of conversational helfpulness is thought of by the addressee to be followed by the utterer. Someone isnt attending the party organised by the Merseyside Geographical Society. That is Marmaduke Bloggs, who climbed Mt. Everest on hands and knees. But who, as it happened, turned out to be an invention of the journalists at the Merseyside Newsletter, “W and O,” vacuous name, identificatory use, non-identificatory use, subscript device. Davidson and Hintikka were well aware of the New-World impact of the Old-World ideas displayed by Grice and Strawson in their attack to Quine. Quine had indeed addressed Grices and Strawsons sophisticated version of the paradigm-case argument in Word and Object.  Davidson and Hintikka arranged to publish a special issue for a periodical publication, to which Strawson had already contributed. It was only natural, when Davidson and Hintikka were informed by Reidel of their interest in turning the special issue into a separate volume, that they would approach the other infamous member of the dynamic duo! Commissioned by Davidson and Hintikka for “W and O.” Grice introduces a subscript device to account for implicata of utterances like Marmaduke Bloggs won’t be attending the party; he was invented by the journalists. In the later section, he explores identificatory and non identificatory uses of the without involving himself in the problems Donnellan did! Some philosophers, notably Ostertag, have found the latter section the most intriguing bit, and thus Ostertag cared to reprint the section on Descriptions for his edited MIT volume on the topic. The essay is structured very systematically with an initial section on a calculus alla Gentzen, followed by implicata of vacuous Namess such as Marmaduke Bloggs, to end with definite descriptions, repr. in Ostertag, and psychological predicates. It is best to focus on a few things here. First his imaginary dialogues on Marmaduke Bloggs, brilliant! Second, this as a preamble to his Presupposition and conversational implicature. There is a quantifier phrase, the, and two uses of it: one is an identificatory use (the haberdasher is clumsy, or THE haberdasher is clumsy, as Grice prefers) and then theres a derived, non-identificatory use: the haberdasher (whoever she was! to use Grices and Mitchells addendum) shows her clumsiness. The use of the numeric subscripts were complicated enough to delay the publication of this. The whole thing was a special issue of a journal. Grices contribution came when Reidel turned that into a volume. Grice later replaced his numeric subscript device by square brackets. Perhaps the square brackets are not subtle enough, though. Grices contribution, Vacuous Namess, later repr. in part “Definite descriptions,” ed. Ostertag, concludes with an exploration of the phrases, and further on, with some intriguing remarks on the subtle issues surrounding the scope of an ascription of a predicate standing for a psychological state or attitude.  Grices choice of an ascription now notably involves an opaque (rather than factive, like know) psychological state or attitude: wanting, which he symbolizes as W.  At least Grice does not write, really, for he knew that Austin detested a trouser word! Grice concludes that (xi) and (xiii) will be derivable from each of (ix) and (x), while (xii) will be derivable only from (ix).Grice had been Strawsons logic tutor at St. Johns (Mabbott was teaching the grand stuff!) and it shows! One topic that especially concerned Grice relates to the introduction and elimination rules, as he later searches for generic satisfactoriness. Grice wonders [W]hat should be said of Takeutis conjecture (roughly) that the nature of the introduction rule determines the character of the elimination rule? There seems to be no particular problem about allowing an introduction rule which tells us that, if it is established in Xs personalized system that φ, then it is necessary with respect to X that φ is true (establishable). The accompanying elimination rule is, however, slightly less promising. If we suppose such a rule to tell us that, if one is committed to the idea that it is necessary with respect to X that φ, then one is also committed to whatever is expressed by φ, we shall be in trouble; for such a rule is not acceptable; φ will be a volitive expression such as let it be that X eats his hat; and my commitment to the idea that Xs system requires him to eat his hat does not ipso facto involve me in accepting (buletically) let X eat his hat. But if we take the elimination rule rather as telling us that, if it is necessary with respect to X that let X eat his hat, then let X eat his hat possesses satisfactoriness-with-respect-to-X, the situation is easier; for this version of the rule seems inoffensive, even for Takeuti, we hope. A very interesting concept Grice introduces in the definite-descriptor section of Vacuous Namess is that of a conversational dossier, for which he uses δ for a definite descriptor. The key concept is that of conversational dossier overlap, common ground, or conversational pool. Let us say that an utterer U has a dossier for a definite description δ if there is a set of definite descriptions which include δ, all the members of which the utterer supposes to be satisfied by one and the same item and the utterer U intends his addressee A to think (via the recognition that A is so intended) that the utterer U has a dossier for the definite description δ which the utterer uses, and that the utterer U has specifically selected (or chosen, or picked) this specific δ from this dossier at least partly in the hope that his addressee A has his own dossier for δ which overlaps the utterers dossier for δ, viz. shares a substantial, or in some way specially favoured, su-bset with the utterers dossier. Its unfortunate that the idea of a dossier is not better known amog Oxonian philosophers. Unlike approaches to the phenomenon by other Oxonian philosophers like Grices tutee Strawson and his three principles (conversational relevance, presumption of conversational knowledge, and presumption of conversational ignorance) or Urmson and his, apter than Strawsons, principle of conversational appositeness (Mrs.Smiths husband just delivered a letter, You mean the postman!?), only Grice took to task the idea of formalising this in terms of set-theory and philosophical psychology  ‒ note his charming reference to the utterers hope (never mind intention) that his choice of d from his dossier will overlap with some d in the dossier of his his addressee. The point of adding whoever he may be for the non-identificatory is made by Mitchell, of Worcester, in his Griceian textbook for Hutchinson. Refs.: The main reference is Grice’s “Vacuous names,” in “W and O” and its attending notes, BANC.

E: the ‘universalis abdicative.’ Cf. Grice on the Square of Opposition. Grice, “Circling the square of Opposition.”

Ǝ Ǝx. The existential quantifier. Cited by Grice as translatable by “some (at least one)”. Noting the divergence that Strawson identified but fails to identify as a conversational implicatum. It relates in the case of the square of opposition to the ‘particularis’ but taking into account or NOT taking into account the ‘unnecessary implication,’ as Russell calls it. “Take ‘every man is mortal.’ Surely we don’t need the unnecessary implication that there is a man!”

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

egcrateia: or temperantia. This is a universal. Strictly, it’s the agent who has the power – Or part of his soul – the rational soul has the power – hence Grice’s metaphor of the ‘power structure of the soul.’ Grice is interested in the linguistic side to it. What’s the use of “Don’t p!” if ‘p’ is out of the emissee’s rational control? Cf. Pears on egcreateia as ‘irrationality,’ if motivated. Cfr mesotes. the geniality of Grice was to explore theoretical akrasia. Grice’s genius shows in seeing egcrateia and lack thereof as marks of virtue. “C hasn’t been to prison yet” He is potentially dishonest. But you cannot be HONEST if you are NOT potentially DISHONEST. Of course, it does not paint a good picture of the philosopher why he should be obsessed with ‘akrasia,’ when Aristotle actually opposed the notion to that of ‘enkrateia,’ or ‘continence.’ Surely a philosopher needs to provide a reductive analysis of ‘continence,’ first; and the reductive analysis of ‘incontinence’ will follow. Aristotle, as Grice well knew, is being a Platonist here, so by ‘continence,’ he meant a power structure of the soul, with the ‘rational’ soul containing the pre-rational or non-rational soul (animal soul, and vegetal soul). And right he was, too! So, Grice's twist is Έγκράτεια, sic in capitals! Liddell and Scott has it as ‘ἐγκράτεια’ [ρα^], which they render as “mastery over,” as used by Plato in The Republic: “ἐ. ἑαυτοῦ,” meaning ‘self-control’ (Pl. R.390b; ἐ. ἡδονῶν καὶ ἐπιθυμιῶν control over them, ib.430e, cf. X.Mem.2.1.1, Isoc.1.21; “περί τι” Arist.EN1149a21, al. Liddell and Scott go on to give a reference to Grice’s beloved “Eth. Nich.” (1145b8) II. abs., self-control, X. Mem.1.5.1, Isoc.3.44, Arist. EN. 1145b8, al., LXX Si.18.30, Act.Ap. 24.25, etc. Richards, an emotivist, as well as Collingwood (in “Language”) had made a stereotype of the physicist drawing a formula on the blackboard. “Full of emotion.” So the idea that there is an UN-emotional life is a fallacy. Emotion pervades the rational life, as does akrasia. Grice was particularly irritated by the fact that Davidson, who lacked a background in the humanities and the classics, could think of akrasia as “impossible”! Grice was never too interested in emotion (or feeling) because while we do say I feel that the cat is hungry, we also say, Im feeling byzantine. The concept of emotion needs a philosophical elucidation. Grice was curious about a linguistic botany for that! Akrasia for Grice covers both buletic-boulomaic and doxastic versions. The buletic-boulomaic version may be closer to the concept of an emotion. Grice quotes from Kennys essay on emotion. But Grice is looking for more of a linguistic botany. As it happens, Kennys essay has Griceian implicata. One problem Grice finds with emotion is that feel that  sometimes behaves like thinks that  Another is that there is no good Grecian word for emotio.  Kenny, of St. Benets, completed his essay on emotion under Quinton (who would occasionally give seminars with Grice), and examined by two members of Grices Play Group: Pears and Gardiner. Kenny connects an emotion to a feeling, which brings us to Grice on feeling boringly byzantine! Grice proposes a derivation of akrasia in conditional steps for both buletic-boulomaic and doxastic akrasia.  Liddell and Scott have “ἐπιθυμία,” which they render as desire, yearning, “ἐ. ἐκτελέσαι” Hdt.1.32; ἐπιθυμίᾳ by passion, oπρονοίᾳ, generally, appetite, αἱ κατὰ τὸ σῶμα ἐ. esp. sexual desire, lust, αἱ πρὸς τοὺς παῖδας ἐ.; longing after a thing, desire of or for it, ὕδατος, τοῦ πιεῖν;” “τοῦ πλέονος;” “τῆς τιμωρίας;” “τῆς μεθ᾽ ὑμῶν πολιτείας;’ “τῆς παρθενίας;’ “εἰς ἐ. τινὸς ἐλθεῖν;’ ἐν ἐ. “τινὸς εἶναι;’ “γεγονέναι;” “εἰς ἐ. τινὸς “ἀφικέσθαι θεάσασθαι;” “ἐ. τινὸς ἐμβαλεῖν τινί;” “ἐ. ἐμποιεῖν ἔς τινα an inclination towards;” =ἐπιθύμημα, object of desire, ἐπιθυμίας τυχεῖν;” “ἀνδρὸς ἐ., of woman, “πενήτων ἐ., of sleep. There must be more to emotion, such as philia, than epithumia! cf. Grice on Aristotle on philos. What is an emotion? Aristotle, Rhetoric II.1; Konstan “Pathos and Passion” R. Roberts, “Emotion”; W. Fortenbaugh, Aristotle on Emotion; Simo Knuuttila, Emotions in Ancient and Medieval Philosophy. Aristotle, Rhet. II.2-12; De An., Eth.N., and Top.; Emotions in Plato and Aristotle; Philosophy of Emotion; Aristotle and the Emotions, De An. II.12 and III 1-3; De Mem. 1; Rhet. II.5; Scheiter, “Images, Imagination, and Appearances, V. Caston, Why Aristotle Needs Imagination” M. Nussbaum, “Aristotle on Emotions and Rational Persuasion, J. Cooper, “An Aristotelian Theory of Emotion, G. Striker, Emotions in Context: Aristotles Treatment of the Passions in the Rhetoric and his Moral Psychology." Essays on Aristotles Rhetoric (J. Dow, Aristotles Theory of the Emotions, Moral Psychology and Human Action in Aristotle PLATO. Aristotle, Rhetoric I.10-11; Plato Philebus 31b-50e and Republic IV, D. Frede, Mixed feelings in Aristotles Rhetoric." Essays on Aristotles Rhetoric, J. Moss, “Pictures and Passions in Plato”; Protagoras 352b-c, Phaedo 83b-84a, Timaeus 69c STOICS The Hellenistic philosophers; “The Old Stoic Theory of Emotion” The Emotions in Hellenistic Philosophy, eEmotion and Peace of Mind: From Stoic Agitation to Christian Temptation, Sorabji, Chrysippus Posidonius Seneca: A High-Level Debate on Emotion. Nussbaum, The Therapy of Desire: Theory and Practice in Hellenistic Ethics M. Graver, Preface and Introduction to Cicero on Emotion: Tusculan Disputations 3 and 4 M. Graver, Stoicism and emotion. Tusculan Disputations 3 Recommended: Graver, Margaret. "Philo of Alexandria and the Origins of the Stoic Προπάθειαι." Phronesis. Tusculan Disputations; "The Stoic doctrine of the affections of the soul; The Stoic life: Emotions, duties, and fate”; Emotion and decision in stoic psychology, The stoics, individual emotions: anger, friendly feeling, and hatred.  Aristotle Rhetoric II.2-3; Nicomachean Ethics IV.5; Topics 2.7 and 4.5; Konstan, Anger, Pearson, Aristotle on Desire; Scheiter, Review of Pearsons Aristotle on Desire; S. Leighton, Aristotles Account of Anger: Narcissism and Illusions of Self‐Sufficiency: The Complex Evaluative World of Aristotles Angry Man,” Valuing emotions. Aristotle Rhetoric II. 4; Konstan, “Hatred”  Konstan "Aristotle on Anger and the Emotions: the Strategies of Status." Ancient Anger: Perspectives from Homer to Galen, C. Rapp, The emotional dimension of friendship: notes on Aristotles account of philia in Rhetoric II 4” Grice endeavours to give an answer to the question whether and to what extent philia (friendship), as it is treated by Aristotle in Rhet. II.4, can be considered a genuine emotion as, for example, fear and anger are. Three anomalies are identified in the definition and the account of philia (and of the associated verb philein), which suggest a negative response to the question. However, these anomalies are analysed and explained in terms of the specific notes of philia in order to show that Rhetoric II4 does allow for a consideration of friendship as a genuine emotion. Seneca, On Anger (De Ira) Seneca, On Anger Seneca, On Anger (62-96); K. Vogt, “Anger, Present Injustice, and Future Revenge in Senecas De Ira” FEAR Aristotle, Rhet. II.5; Nicomachean Ethics III.6-9  Aristotles Courageous Passions, Platos Laws; “Pleasure, Pain, and Anticipation in Platos Laws, Book I” Konstan, “Fear”  PITY Aristotle, Rhetoric II. 8-9; Poetics, chs. 6, 9-19 ; Konstan, “Pity”  E. Belfiore, Tragic pleasures: Aristotle on plot and emotion, Konstan, Aristotle on the Tragic Emotions, The Soul of Tragedy: Essays on Athenian Drama  SHAME Aristotle, Rhet. II.6; Nicomachean Ethics IV.9 Konstan, Shame J. Moss, Shame, Pleasure, and the Divided Soul, B. Williams, Shame and Necessity. Aristotle investigates two character traits, continence and incontinence, that are not as blameworthy as the vices but not as praiseworthy as the virtues. The Grecian expressions are’enkrateia,’ continence, literally mastery, and krasia (“incontinence”; literally, lack of mastery. An akratic person goes against reason as a result of some pathos (emotion, feeling”). Like the akratic, an enkratic person experiences a feeling that is contrary to reason; but unlike the akratic, he acts in accordance with reason. His defect consists solely in the fact that, more than most people, he experiences passions that conflict with his rational choice. The akratic person has not only this defect, but has the further flaw that he gives in to feeling rather than reason more often than the average person.  Aristotle distinguishes two kinds of akrasia: “propeteia,” or impetuosity and “astheneia, or weakness. The person who is weak goes through a process of deliberation and makes a choice; but rather than act in accordance with his reasoned choice, he acts under the influence of a passion. By contrast, the impetuous person does not go through a process of deliberation and does not make a reasoned choice; he simply acts under the influence of a passion. At the time of action, the impetuous person experiences no internal conflict. But once his act has been completed, he regrets what he has done. One could say that he deliberates, if deliberation were something that post-dated rather than preceded action; but the thought process he goes through after he acts comes too late to save him from error.  It is important to bear in mind that when Aristotle talks about impetuosity and weakness, he is discussing chronic conditions. The impetuous person is someone who acts emotionally and fails to deliberate not just once or twice but with some frequency; he makes this error more than most people do. Because of this pattern in his actions, we would be justified in saying of the impetuous person that had his passions not prevented him from doing so, he would have deliberated and chosen an action different from the one he did perform.  The two kinds of passions that Aristotle focuses on, in his treatment of akrasia, are the appetite for pleasure and anger. Either can lead to impetuosity and weakness. But Aristotle gives pride of place to the appetite for pleasure as the passion that undermines reason. He calls the kind of akrasia caused by an appetite for pleasure (hedone) “unqualified akrasia”—or, as we might say, akrasia simpliciter, “full stop.’ Akrasia caused by anger he considers a qualified form of akrasia and calls it akrasia ‘with respect to anger.’ We thus have these four forms of akrasia: impetuosity caused by pleasure, impetuosity caused by anger, weakness caused by pleasure, weakness caused by anger. It should be noticed that Aristotle’s treatment of akrasia is heavily influenced by Plato’s tripartite division of the soul. Plato holds that either the spirited part (which houses anger, as well as other emotions) or the appetitive part (which houses the desire for physical pleasures) can disrupt the dictates of reason and result in action contrary to reason. The same threefold division of the soul can be seen in Aristotles approach to this topic. Although Aristotle characterizes akrasia and enkrateia in terms of a conflict between reason and feeling, his detailed analysis of these states of mind shows that what takes place is best described in a more complicated way. For the feeling that undermines reason contains some thought, which may be implicitly general. As Aristotle says, anger “reasoning as it were that one must fight against such a thing, is immediately provoked. And although in the next sentence he denies that our appetite for pleasure works in this way, he earlier had said that there can be a syllogism that favors pursuing enjoyment: “Everything sweet is pleasant, and this is sweet” leads to the pursuit of a particular pleasure. Perhaps what he has in mind is that pleasure can operate in either way: it can prompt action unmediated by a general premise, or it can prompt us to act on such a syllogism. By contrast, anger always moves us by presenting itself as a bit of general, although hasty, reasoning.  But of course Aristotle does not mean that a conflicted person has more than one faculty of reason. Rather his idea seems to be that in addition to our full-fledged reasoning capacity, we also have psychological mechanisms that are capable of a limited range of reasoning. When feeling conflicts with reason, what occurs is better described as a fight between feeling-allied-with-limited-reasoning and full-fledged reason. Part of us—reason—can remove itself from the distorting influence of feeling and consider all relevant factors, positive and negative. But another part of us—feeling or emotion—has a more limited field of reasoning—and sometimes it does not even make use of it.  Although “passion” is sometimes used as a translation of Aristotles word pathos (other alternatives are emotion” and feeling), it is important to bear in mind that his term does not necessarily designate a strong psychological force. Anger is a pathos whether it is weak or strong; so too is the appetite for bodily pleasures. And he clearly indicates that it is possible for an akratic person to be defeated by a weak pathos—the kind that most people would easily be able to control. So the general explanation for the occurrence of akrasia cannot be that the strength of a passion overwhelms reason. Aristotle should therefore be acquitted of an accusation made against him by Austin in a well-known footnote to ‘A Plea For Excuses.’ Plato and Aristotle, Austin says, collapsed all succumbing to temptation into losing control of ourselves — a mistake illustrated by this example. I am very partial to ice cream, and a bombe is served divided into segments corresponding one to one with the persons at High Table. I am tempted to help myself to two segments and do so, thus succumbing to temptation and even conceivably (but why necessarily?) going against my principles. But do I lose control of myself? Do I raven, do I snatch the morsels from the dish and wolf them down, impervious to the consternation of my colleagues? Not a bit of it. We often succumb to temptation with calm and even with finesse. With this, Aristotle can agree. The pathos for the bombe can be a weak one, and in some people that will be enough to get them to act in a way that is disapproved by their reason at the very time of action.  What is most remarkable about Aristotle’s discussion of akrasia is that he defends a position close to that of Socrates. When he first introduces the topic of akrasia, and surveys some of the problems involved in understanding this phenomenon, he says that Socrates held that there is no akrasia, and he describes this as a thesis that clearly conflicts with the appearances (phainomena). Since he says that his goal is to preserve as many of the appearances as possible, it may come as a surprise that when he analyzes the conflict between reason and feeling, he arrives at the conclusion that in a way Socrates was right after all. For, he says, the person who acts against reason does not have what is thought to be unqualified knowledge; in a way he has knowledge, but in a way does not.  Aristotle explains what he has in mind by comparing akrasia to the condition of other people who might be described as knowing in a way, but not in an unqualified way. His examples are people who are asleep, mad, or drunk; he also compares the akratic to a student who has just begun to learn a Subjects, or an actor on the stage. All of these people, he says, can utter the very words used by those who have knowledge; but their talk does not prove that they really have knowledge, strictly speaking.  These analogies can be taken to mean that the form of akrasia that Aristotle calls weakness rather than impetuosity always results from some diminution of cognitive or intellectual acuity at the moment of action. The akratic says, at the time of action, that he ought not to indulge in this particular pleasure at this time. But does he know or even believe that he should refrain? Aristotle might be taken to reply: yes and no. He has some degree of recognition that he must not do this now, but not full recognition. His feeling, even if it is weak, has to some degree prevented him from completely grasping or affirming the point that he should not do this. And so in a way Socrates was right. When reason remains unimpaired and unclouded, its dictates will carry us all the way to action, so long as we are able to act.  But Aristotles agreement with Socrates is only partial, because he insists on the power of the emotions to rival, weaken or bypass reason. Emotion challenges reason in all three of these ways. In both the akratic and the enkratic, it competes with reason for control over action; even when reason wins, it faces the difficult task of having to struggle with an internal rival. Second, in the akratic, it temporarily robs reason of its full acuity, thus handicapping it as a competitor. It is not merely a rival force, in these cases; it is a force that keeps reason from fully exercising its power. And third, passion can make someone impetuous; here its victory over reason is so powerful that the latter does not even enter into the arena of conscious reflection until it is too late to influence action. That, at any rate, is one way of interpreting Aristotle’s statements. But it must be admitted that his remarks are obscure and leave room for alternative readings. It is possible that when he denies that the akratic has knowledge in the strict sense, he is simply insisting on the point that no one should be classified as having practical knowledge unless he actually acts in accordance with it. A practical knower is not someone who merely has knowledge of general premises; he must also have knowledge of particulars, and he must actually draw the conclusion of the syllogism. Perhaps drawing such a conclusion consists in nothing less than performing the action called for by the major and minor premises. Since this is something the akratic does not do, he lacks knowledge; his ignorance is constituted by his error in action. On this reading, there is no basis for attributing to Aristotle the thesis that the kind of akrasia he calls weakness is caused by a diminution of intellectual acuity. His explanation of akrasia is simply that pathos is sometimes a stronger motivational force than full-fledged reason.  This is a difficult reading to defend, however, for Aristotle says that after someone experiences a bout of akrasia his ignorance is dissolved and he becomes a knower again. In context, that appears to be a remark about the form of akrasia Aristotle calls weakness rather than impetuosity. If so, he is saying that when an akratic person is Subjects to two conflicting influences—full-fledged reason versus the minimal rationality of emotion—his state of knowledge is somehow temporarily undone but is later restored. Here, knowledge cannot be constituted by the performance of an act, because that is not the sort of thing that can be restored at a later time. What can be restored is ones full recognition or affirmation of the fact that this act has a certain undesirable feature, or that it should not be performed. Aristotle’s analysis seems to be that both forms of akrasia — weakness and impetuosity —share a common structure: in each case, ones full affirmation or grasp of what one should do comes too late. The difference is that in the case of weakness but not impetuosity, the akratic act is preceded by a full-fledged rational cognition of what one should do right now. That recognition is briefly and temporarily diminished by the onset of a less than fully rational affect.  There is one other way in which Aristotle’s treatment of akrasia is close to the Socratic thesis that what people call akrasia is really ignorance. Aristotle holds that if one is in the special mental condition that he calls practical wisdom, then one cannot be, nor will one ever become, an akratic person. For practical wisdom is present only in those who also possess the ethical virtues, and these qualities require complete emotional mastery. Anger and appetite are fully in harmony with reason, if one is practically wise, and so this intellectual virtue is incompatible with the sort of inner conflict experienced by the akratic person. Furthermore, one is called practically wise not merely on the basis of what one believes or knows, but also on the basis of what one does. Therefore, the sort of knowledge that is lost and regained during a bout of akrasia cannot be called practical wisdom. It is knowledge only in a loose sense. The low-level grasp of the ordinary person of what to do is precisely the sort of thing that can lose its acuity and motivating power, because it was never much of an intellectual accomplishment to begin with. That is what Aristotle is getting at when he compares it with the utterances of actors, students, sleepers, drunks, and madmen. Grice had witnessed how Hare had suffere to try and deal with how to combine the geniality that “The language of morals” is with his account of akrasia. Most Oxonians were unhappy with Hares account of akrasia. Its like, in deontic logic, you cannot actually deal with akrasia. You need buletics. You need the desiderative, so that you can oppose what is desired with the duty, even if both concepts are related. “Akrasia” has a nice Grecian touch about it, and Grice and Hare, as Lit. Hum., rejoiced in being able to explore what Aristotle had to say about it. They wouldnt go far beyond Aristotle. Plato and Aristotle were the only Greek philosophers studied for the Lit. Hum. To venture with the pre-socratics or the hellenistics (even if Aristotle is one) was not classy enough! Like Pears in Motivated irrationality, Grice allows that benevolentia may be deemed beneficentia. If Smith has the good will to give Jones a job, he may be deemed to have given Jones the job, even if Jones never get it. In buletic akrasia we must consider the conclusion to be desiring what is not best for the agents own good, never mind if he refrains from doing what is not best for his own good. Video meliora proboque deteriora sequor. We shouldnt be saying this, but we are saying it! Grice prefers akrasia, but he is happy to use the translation by Cicero, also negative, of this: incontinentia, as if continentia were a virtue! For Grice, the alleged paradox of akrasia, both alethic and practical, has to be accounted for by a theory of rationality from the start, and not be deemed a stumbling block. Grice is interested in both the common-or-garden buletic-boulomaic version of akrasia, involving the volitive soul ‒ in term of desirability  ‒ and doxastic akrasia, involing the judicative soul proper  ‒ in terms of probability. Grice considers buletic akrasia and doxastic akrasia ‒ the latter yet distinct from Moores paradox, p but I dont want to believe that p, in symbols p and ~ψb-dp. Akarsia, see egcrateia. Refs.: The main references here are in three folders in two different series. H. P. Grice, “Akrasia,” The H. P. Grice Papers, S. II, c. 2-ff. 22-23 and S. V, c. 6-f. 32, BANC.

See index to all Grice’s books with index – the first three of them.

Einheitswissenschaft:  Used by Grice ironically. While he was totally ANTI-Einheitwisseschaft, he was ALL for einheitsphilosophie!  The phrase is used by Grice in a more causal way. He uses the expression ‘unity of science’ vis-à-vis the topic of teleology. Note that ‘einheitswissenschaft,’ literally translates as unity-science – there is nothing about ‘making’ if one, which is what –fied implies. The reason why ‘einheitswissenschaft’ was transliterated as ‘unified science’ was that Neurath thought that ‘unity-science’ would be a yes-yes in New England, most New Englanders being Unitarians, but they would like to include Theology there, ‘into the bargain.’  “Die Einheit von Wissenschaft.” Die Einheit der Wissenschaft und die neopositivistische Theorie der „Einheitswissenschaft”. O. Neurath, „Einheit der Wissenschaft als Aufgabe“,Einheitswissenschaft oder Einheit der Wissenschaft? | Frank F Vierter Internationaler Kongress für Einheit der Wissenschaft, Cambridge 1938 ... Einheitswissenschaft als Basis der Wissenschaftsgeschichte (pp. positivists held that no essential differences in aim and method exist between the various branches of science. The scientists of all disciplines should collaborate closely with each other and should unify the vocabulary of sciences by logical analysis. According to this view, there is no sharp demarcation between natural sciences and social sciences. In particular, to establish universal laws in the social sciences may be difficult in practice, but it is not impossible in principle. Through Otto Neurath, this ideal of scientific unity became a program for logical positivists, who published a series of books in Vienna under the heading Unified Science. After the dissolution of the Vienna Circle, Neurath renamed the official journal Erkenntnis as The Journal of Unified Science, and planned to continue publication of a series of works in the United States under the general title The International Encyclopedia of Unified Science. He thought that the work would be similar in historical importance to the eighteenth-century French Encyclopédie under the direction of Diderot. Unfortunately, this work was never completed, although Carnap and Morris published some volumes originally prepared for it under the title Foundations of the Unity of Science. “We have repeatedly pointed out that the formation of the constructional system as a whole is the task of unified science.” Carnap, The Logical Structure of the World.

Sender and sendee: Emissee: this is crucial. There’s loads of references on this. Apparently, some philosopher cannot think of communication without the emissee. But surely Grice loved Virginia Woolf. “And when she was writing ‘The Hours,’ I’m pretty sure she cared a damn whether the rest of the world existed!” Let's explore the issue of the UTTERER'S OCCASION-MEANING IN THE ABSENCE OF A (so-called) AUDIENCE -- or sender without sendee, as it were. There are various scenarios of utterances by which the utterer or sender is correctly said to have communicated that so-and-so, such that there is no actual person or set of persons (or sentient beings) whom the utterer or sender is addressing and in whom the sender intends to induce a response. The range of these scenarios includes, or might be thought to include, such items as -- the posting of a notice, like "Keep out" or "This bridge is dangerous," -- an entry in a diary, -- the writing of a note to clarify one's thoughts when working on some problem, -- soliloquizing, -- rehearsing a part in a projected conversation, and -- silent thinking. At least some of these scenarios are unprovided for in the reductive analysis so far proposed. The examples which Grice's account should cover fall into three groups: (a) Utterances for which the utterer or sender thinks there may (now or later) be an audience or sendee (as when Grice's son sent a letter to Santa). U may think that some particular person, e. g. himself at a future date in the case of a diary entry, may (but also may not) encounter U's utterance.Or U may think that there may or may not be some person or other who is or will be an auditor or sendee or recipient of his utterance. (b) An utterances which the utterer knows that it is not to be addressed to any actual sendee, but which the utterer PRETENDS to address or send to some particular person or type of person, OR which he thinks of as being addressed (or sent) to some imagined sendee or type of sendee (as in the rehearsal of a speech or of his part in a projected conversation, or Demosthenes or Noel Coward talking to the gulls.(c) An utterances (including what Occam calls an "internal" utterance) with respect to which the utterer NEITHER thinks it possible that there may be an actual sendee nor imagines himself as addressing sending so-and-so to a sendee, but nevertheless intends his utterance to be such that it would induce a certain sort of response in a certain perhaps fairly indefinite kind of sendee were it the case that such a sendee *were* present.In the case of silent thinking the idea of the presence of a sendee will have to be interpreted 'liberally,' as being the idea of there being a sendee for a public counter-part of the utterer's internal, private speech, if there is one. Austin refused to discuss Vitters's private-language argument.In this connection it is perhaps worth noting that some cases of verbal thinking (especially the type that Vitters engages in) do fall outside the scope of Grice's account. When a verbal though  merely passes through Vitters's head (or brain) as distinct from being "framed" by Vitters, it is utterly inappropriate (even in Viennese) to talk of Vitters as having communicated so-and-so by "the very thought of you," to echo Noble. Vitters is, perhaps, in such a case, more like a sendee than a sender -- and wondering who such an intelligent sender might (or then might not) be. In any case, to calm the neo-Wittgensteinians, Grice propose a reductive analysis which surely accounts for the examples which need to be accounted for, and which will allow as SPECIAL (if paradigmatic) cases (now) the range of examples in which there is, and it is known by the utterer that there is, an actual sendee. A soul-to-soul transfer. This redefinition is relatively informal. Surely Grice could present a more formal version which would gain in precision at the cost of ease of comprehension. Let "p" (and k') range over properties of persons (possible sendees); appropriate substituends for "O" (and i') will include such diverse expressions as "is a passer-by," "is a passer-by who sees this notice," "understands the Viennese cant," "is identical with Vitters." As will be seen, for Grice to communicate that so-and-so it will have to be possible to identify the value of "/" (which may be fairly indeterminate) which U has in mind; but we do not have to determine the range from which U makes a selection. "U means by uttering x that *iP" is true iff (30) (3f (3c):  I. U utters x intending x to be such that anyone who has q would think that (i) x has f (2) f is correlated in way c with M-ing that p (3) (3 0'): U intends x to be such that anyone who has b' would think, via thinking (i) and (2), that U4's that p (4) in view of (3), U O's that p; and II. (operative only for certain substituends for "*4") U utters x intending that, should there actually be anyone who has 0, he would via thinking (4), himself a that p; ' and III. It is not the case that, for some inference-element E, U intends x to be such that anyone who has 0 will both (i') rely on E in coming to O+ that p and (2') think that (3k'): Uintends x to be such that anyone who has O' will come to /+ that p without relying on E. Notes: (1) "i+" is to be read as "p" if Clause II is operative, and as "think that UO's" if Clause II is non-operative. (2) We need to use both "i" and "i'," since we do not wish to require that U should intend his possible audience to think of U's possible audience under the same description as U does himself. Explanatory comments: (i) It is essential that the intention which is specified in Clause II should be specified as U's intention "that should there be anyone who has 0, he would (will) . . ." rather than, analogously with Clauses I and II, as U's intention "that x should be such that, should anyone be 0, he would ... ." If we adopt the latter specification, we shall be open to an objection, as can be shown with the aid of an example.Suppose that, Vitters is married, and further, suppose he married an Englishwoman. Infuriated by an afternoon with his mother-in-law, when he is alone after her departure, Vitters relieves his feelings by saying, aloud and passionately, in German:"Do not ye ever comest near me again!"It will no doubt be essential to Vitters's momentary well-being that Vitters should speak with the intention that his remark be such that were his mother-in-law present, assuming as we say, that he married and does have one who, being an Englishwoman, will most likely not catch the Viennese cant that Vitters is purposively using, she should however, in a very Griceian sort of way, form the intention not to come near Vitters again. It would, however, be pretty unacceptable if it were represented as following from Vitters's having THIS intention (that his remark be such that, were his mother-in-law be present, she should form the intnetion to to come near Vitters again) that what Vitters is communicating (who knows to who) that the denotatum of 'Sie' is never to come near Vitters again.For it is false that, in the circumstances, Vitters is communicating that by his remark. Grice's reductive analysis is formulated to avoid that difficulty. (2) Suppose that in accordance with the definiens o U intends x to be such that anyone who is f will think ... , and suppose that the value of "O" which U has in mind is the property of being identical with a particular person A. Then it will follow that U intends A to think . . . ; and given the further condition, fulfilled in any normal (paradigmatic, standard, typical, default) case, that U intends the sendee to think that the sendee is the intended sendee, we are assured of the truth of a statement from which the definiens is inferrible by the rule of existential generalisation (assuming the legitimacy of this application of existential generalisation to a statement the expression of which contains such "intensional" verbs as "intend" and "think"). It can also be shown that, for any case in which there is an actual sendee who knows that he is the intended sendee, if the definiens in the standard version is true then the definiens in the adapted version will be true. If that is so, given the definition is correct, for any normal case in which there IS an actual sendee the fulfillment of the definiens will constitute a necessary and sufficient condition for U's having communicated that *1p. 

Sendeeless: ‘audienceless’.

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

emotum: the emotum, the motum. Grice enjoyed a bit of history of philosophy. Cf. conatum. And Urmson’s company helped. Urmson produced a brilliant study of the ‘emotive’ theory of ethics, which is indeed linguistic and based on Ogden. Diog. Laert. of Zeno of Citium. πρὸς τὸν εἰπόντα, "πολλοί σου καταγελῶσιν," "ἀλλ ἐγώ," ἔφη, "οὐ κατα- γελῶμαι; to the question, who is a friend?, Zeno’s answer is, ‘a second self (alter ego). One direct way to approach friend is via emotion, as Aristotle did, and found it aporetic as did Grice. Aristotle discusses philia in Eth. Nich. but it is in Rhet. where he allows for phulia to be an emotion. Grice was very fortunate to have Hardie as his tutor. He overused Hardies lectures on Aristotle, too, and instilled them on his own tutees! Grice is concerned with the rather cryptic view by Aristotle of the friend (philos, amicus) as the alter ego. In Grices cooperative, concerted, view of things, a friend in need is a friend indeed! Grice is interested in Aristotle finding himself in an aporia. In Nicomachean Ethics IX.ix, Aristotle poses the question whether the happy man will need friends or not. Kosman correctly identifies this question as asking not whether friends are necessary in order to achieve eudæmonia, but why we require friends even when we are happy. The question is not why we need friends to become happy, but why we need friends when we are happy, since the eudæmon must be self-sufficient. Philia is required for the flourishing of the life of practical virtue. The solution by Aristotle to the aporia here, however, points to the requirement of friendships even for the philosopher, in his life of theoretical virtue. The olution by Aristotle to the aporia in Nicomachean Ethics IX.ix is opaque, and the corresponding passage in Eudeiman Ethics VII.xii is scarcely better. Aristotle thinks he has found the solution to this aporia. We must take two things into consideration, that life is desirable and also that the good is, and thence that it is desirable that such a nature should belong to oneself as it belongs to them. If then, of such a pair of corresponding s. there is always one s. of the desirable, and the known and the perceived are in general constituted by their participation in the nature of the determined, so that to wish to perceive ones self is to wish oneself to be of a certain definite character,—since, then we are not in ourselves possessed of each such characters, but only in participation in these qualities in perceiving and knowing—for the perceiver becomes perceived in that way in respect in which he first perceives, and according to the way in which and the object which he perceives; and the knower becomes known in the same way— therefore it is for this reason that one always desires to live, because one always desires to know; and this is because he himself wishes to be the object known. Refs.: There is an essay on “Emotions and akrasia,” but the topic is scattered in various places, such as Grice’s reply to Davidson on intending. Grice has an essay on ‘Kant and friendship,’ too, The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

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

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

eschatologicum: Possibly related to Latin ‘summum, ‘as in ‘summum genus,’ and ‘summun bonum. From Greek, 5. in the Logic of Arist., τὰ ἔ. are the last or lowest species, Metaph.1059b26, or individuals, ib.998b16, cf. AP0.96b12, al.; “τὸ ἔ. ἄτομον” Metaph.1058b10. b. ὁ ἔ. ὅρος the minor term of a syllogism, EN1147b14. c. last step in geom. analysis or ultimate condition of action, “τὸ ἔ. ἀρχὴ τῆς πράξεως” de An.433a16. II. Adv. -τως to the uttermost, exceedingly, “πῦρ ἐ. καίει” Hp.de Arte8; “ἐ. διαμάχεσθαι” Arist.HA613a11 ; “ἐ. φιλοπόλεμος” X.An.2.6.1 ; “φοβοῦμαί σ᾽ ἐ.” Men.912, cf. Epicur.Ep. 1p.31U. b. -τως διακεῖσθαι to be at the last extremity, Plb.1.24.2, D.S.18.48 ; “ἔχειν” Ev.Marc.5.23 ; “ἀπορεῖν” Phld.Oec.p.72J. 2. so ἐς τὸ ἔ.,=ἐσχάτως, Hdt.7.229; “εἰς τὰ ἔ.” X.HG5.4.33 ; “εἰς τὰ ἔ. μάλα” Id.Lac.1.2 ; “τὸ ἔ.” finally, in the end, Pl.Grg.473c ; but, τὸ ἔ. what is worst of all, ib.508d. Why ontology is not enough. The philosopher needs to PLAY with cross-categorial barriers. He is an eschatologist. Socrates was. being and good, for Aristotle and Grice cover all. Good was a favourite of Moore and Hare, as Barnes was well aware! Like Barnes, Grice dislikes Prichards analysis of good. He leans towards the emotion-based approach by Ogden. If Grice, like Humpty Dumpty, opposes the Establishment with his meaning liberalism (what a word means is what I mean by uttering it), he certainly should be concerned with category shifts. Plus, Grice was a closet Platonist. As Plato once remarked, having the ability to see horses but not horsehood (ἱππότης) is a mark of stupidity – rendered by Liddell and Scott as “horse-nature, the concept of horse” (Antisth. et Pl. ap. Simp.in Cat.208.30,32, Sch.AristId.p.167F). Grice would endure the flinty experience of giving joint seminars at Oxford with Austin on the first two books of Aristotles Organon, Categoriae, and De Int. Grice finds the use of a category, κατηγορία, by Aristotle a bit of a geniality. Aristotle is using legalese, from kata, against, on, and agoreuô [ἀγορεύω], speak in public), and uses it to designate both the prosecution in a trial and the attribution in a logical proposition, i. e., the questions that must be asked with regard to a Subjects, and the answers that can be given. As a representative of the linguistic turn in philosophy, Grice is attracted to the idea that a category can thus be understood variously, as applying to the realm of reality (ontology), but also to the philosophy of language (category of expression) and to philosophical psychology (category of representation). Grice kept his explorations on categories under two very separate, shall we say, categories: his explorations with Austin (very serious), and those with Strawson (more congenial). Where is Smiths altruism? Nowhere to be seen. Should we say it is idle (otiose) to speak of altruism? No, it is just an attribute, which, via category shift, can be made the Subjects of your sentence, Strawson. It is not spatio-temporal, though, right. Not really.  ‒ I do not particularly like your trouser words. The essay is easy to date since Grice notes that Strawson reproduced some of the details in his Individuals, which we can very well date. Grice thought Aristotle was the best! Or at any rate almost as good as Kantotle! Aristotle saw Categoriæ, along with De Int. as part of his Organon. However, philosophers of language tend to explore these topics without a consideration of the later parts of the Organon dealing with the syllogism, the tropes, and the topics ‒ the boring bits! The reason Grice is attracted to the Aristotelian category (as Austin and Strawson equally were) is that category allows for a linguistic-turn reading. Plus, its a nice, pretentious (in the Oxonian way) piece of philosophical jargon! Aristotle couldnt find category in the koine, so he had to coin it. While meant by Aristotle in a primarily ontological way, Oxonian philosophers hasten to add that a category of expression, as Grice puts it, is just as valid a topic for philosophical exploration. His tutee Strawson will actually publish a book on Subjects and predicate in grammar! (Trivial, Strawson!). Grice will later add an intermediary category, which is the Subjects of his philosophical psychology. As such, a category can be construed ontologically, or representationally: the latter involving philosophical psychological concepts, and expressions themselves. For Aristotle, as Grice and Austin, and Grice and Strawson, were well aware as they educated some of the poor at Oxford (Only the poor learn at Oxford ‒ Arnold), there are (at least ‒ at most?) ten categories. Grice doesnt (really) care about the number. But the first are important. Actually the very first: theres substantia prima, such as Grice. And then theres substantia secunda, such as Grices rationality. The essentia. Then there are various types of attributes. But, as Grice sharply notes, even substantia secunda may be regarded as an attribute. Grices favourite game with Strawson was indeed Category Shift, or Subjects-ification, as Strawson preferred. Essence may be introduced as a sub-type of an attribute. We would have substantia prima AND attribute, which in turn gets divided into essential, the izzing, and non-essential, the hazzing. While Austin is not so fun to play with, Strawson is. Smith is a very altruist person. Where is his altruism? Nowhere to be seen, really. Yet we may sensically speak of Smiths altruism. It is just a matter of a category shift. Grice scores. Grice is slightly disappointed, but he perfectly understands, that Strawson, who footnotes Grice as the tutor from whom I never ceased to learn about logic in Introduction to logical lheory, fails to acknowledge that most of the research in Strawsons Individuals: an essay in descriptive (not revisionary) metaphysics derives from the conclusions reached at his joint philosophical investigations at joint seminars with Grice. Grice later elaborates on this with Code, who is keen on Grices other game, the hazz and the hazz not, the izz. But then tutor from whom I never ceased to learn about metaphysics sounds slightlier clumsier, as far as the implicature goes. Categories, the Grice-Myro theory of identity, Relative identity, Grice on =, identity, notes, with Myro, metaphysics, philosophy, with Code, Grice izz Grice – or izz he? The idea that = is unqualified requires qualification. Whitehead and Russell ignored this. Grice and Myro didnt. Grice wants to allow for It is the case that a = b /t1 and it is not the case that a = b /t2. The idea is intuitive, but philosophers of a Leibnizian bent are too accustomed to deal with = as an absolute. Grice applies this to human vs. person. A human may be identical to a person, but cease to be so. Indeed, Grices earlier attempt to produce a reductive analsysis of I may be seen as remedying a circularity he detected in Locke about same. Cf. Wiggins, Sameness and substance. Grice makes Peano feel deeply Griceian, as Grice lists his = postulates, here for consideration. And if you wondered why Grice prefers Latinate individuum to the Grecian. The Grecian is “ἄτομον,” in logic, rendered by L and S as ‘individual, of terms,’ Pl. Sph. 229d; of the εἶδος or forma, Arist. Metaph.1034a8, de An. 414b27.2. individual, Id. APo. 96b11, al.: as a subst., τό ἄτομον, Id. Cat. 1b6, 3a38, Metaph.1058a18 (pl.), Plot. 6.2.2, al. subst.; latinised from Grecian. Lewis and Short have “indīvĭdŭum,” an atom, indivisible particle: ex illis individuis, unde omnia Democritus gigni affirmat, Cic. Ac. 2, 17 fin.: ne individuum quidem, nec quod dirimi distrahive non possit, id. N. D. 3, 12, 29. Note the use of individuum in alethic modalities for necessity and possibility, starting with (11).  ⊢ (α izzes α). This would be the principle of non-contradiction or identity. Grice applies it to war: War is war, as yielding a most peculiar implicature. (α izzes β ∧ β izzes γ) ⊃ α izzes γ. This above is transitivity, which is crucial for Grices tackling of Reids counterexample to Locke (and which according to Flew in Locke on personal identity was predated by Berkeley.  α hazzes β ⊃ ~(α izzes β). Or, what is accidental is not essential. Grice allows that what is essential is accidental is, while misleading, true. ⊢ α hazzes β ⊃⊂ (∃x)(α hazzes x ∧ x izzes β)  ⊢ (∀β)(β izzes a universalium ⊃ β izzes a forma). This above defines a universalium as a forma, or eidos. (α hazzes β ∧ α izzes a particular) ⊃ (∃γ).(γ≠α ∧ α izzes β) ⊢ α izzes predicable of β ⊃⊂ ((β izzes α) ∨ (∃x)(β hazzes x ∧ x izzes α)  ⊢ α izzes essentially predicable of β ⊃⊂ β izzes α  ⊢ α izzes non-essentially/accidentally predicable of β ⊃⊂ (∃x)(β hazzes x ∧ x izzes α) α = β ⊃⊂ α izzes β ∧ β izzes α  ⊢ α izzes an individuum ⊃⊂ □(∀β)(β izzes α ⊃ α izzes β)  ⊢ α izzes a particular ⊃⊂ □(∀β)(α izzes predicable of β ⊃ (α izzes β ∧ β izzes α)); α izzes a universalium ⊃⊂ ◊(∃β)(α izzes predicable of α ∧ ~(α izzes β ∧ β izzes α)  ⊢ α izzes some-thing ⊃ α izzes an individuum.  ⊢ α izzes a forma ⊃ (α izzes some-thing ∧ α izzes a universalium) 16. ⊢ α izzes predicable of β ⊃⊂ (β izzes α) ∨ (∃x)(β hazzes x ∧ x izzes α)  ⊢ α izzes essentially predicable of α  ⊢ α izzes accidentally predicable of β ⊃ α ≠ β; ~(α izzes accidentally predicable of β) ⊃ α ≠ β 20. α izzes a particular ⊃ α izzes an individuum. ⊢ α izzes a particular ⊃ ~(∃x)(x ≠ α ∧ x izzes α) 22. ⊢~ (∃x).(x izzes a particular ∧ x izzes a forma) α izzes a forma ⊃ ~(∃x)(x ≠ α ∧ x izzes α)  x izzes a particular ⊃ ~(∃β)(α izz β)  ⊢ α izzes a forma ⊃ ((α izzes predicable of β ∧ α ≠ β) ⊃ β hazz α); α izzes a forma ∧ β izzes a particular ⊃ (α izzes predicable of β ⊃⊂ β hazz A)  ⊢ (α izzes a particular ∧ β izzes a universalium ∧ β izzes predicable of α) ⊃ (∃γ)(α ≠ γ ∧ γ izzes essentially predicable of α) ⊢ (∃x) (∃y)(x izzes a particular ∧ y izzes a universalium ∧ y izzes predicable of x ⊃ ~(∀x)(x izzes a universalium ∧ x izzes some-thing); (∀β)(β izzes a universalium ⊃ β izzes some-thing) ⊢ α izzes a particular) ⊃ ~∃β.(α ≠ β ∧ β izzes essentially predicable of α); (α izzes predicable of β ∧ α ≠ β)⊃ α izzes non-essentially or accidentally predicable of β. The use of this or that doxastic modality, necessity and possibility, starting above, make this a good place to consider one philosophical mistake Grice mentions in “Causal theory.” What is actual is not also possible. Cf. What is essential is also accidental. He is criticising a contemporary, if possible considered dated in the New World, form of ordinary-language philosophy, where the philosopher detects a nuance, and embarks risking colliding with the facts, rushing ahead to exploit it before he can clarify it! Grice liked to see his explorations on = as belonging to metaphysics, as the s.  on his Doctrines at the Grice Collection testifies. While Grice presupposes the use of = in his treatment of the king of France, he also explores a relativisation of =. His motivation was an essay by Wiggins, almost Aristotelian in spirit, against Strawsons criterion of space-time continuancy for the identification of the substantia prima. Grice wants to apply = to cases were the time continuancy is made explicit. This yields that a=b in scenario S, but that it may not be the case that a = b in a second scenario S. Myro had an occasion to expand on Grices views in his contribution on the topic for PGRICE. Myro mentions his System Ghp, a highly powerful/hopefully plausible version of Grices System Q, in gratitude to to Grice. Grice explored also the logic of izzing and hazzing with Code. Grice and Myro developed a Geach-type of qualified identity. The formal aspects were developed by Myro, and also by Code. Grice discussed Wigginss Sameness and substance, rather than Geach. Cf. Wiggins and Strawson on Grice for the BA. At Oxford, Grice was more or less given free rein to teach what he wanted. He found the New World slightly disconcerting at first. At Oxford, he expected his tutees to be willing to read the classics in the vernacular Greek. His approach to teaching was diagogic, as Socratess! Even in his details of izzing and hazzing. Greek enough to me!, as a student recalled! correspondence with Code, Grice sees in Code an excellent Aristotelian. They collaborated on an exploration of Aristotles underlying logic of essential and non-essential predication, for which they would freely use such verbal forms as izzing and hazing, izzing and hazzing, Code on the significance of the middle book in Aristotles Met. , Aristotle, metaphysics, the middle book. Very middle. Grice never knew what was middle for Aristotle, but admired Code too much to air this! The organisation of Aristotle’s metaphysics was a topic of much concern for Grice. With Code, Grice coined izzing and hazzing to refer to essential and non-essential attribution. Izzing and hazzing, “Aristotle on the multiplicity of being” (henceforth, “Aristotle”) PPQ, Aristotle on multiplicity, “The Pacific Philosophical Quarterly” (henceforth, “PPQ,” posthumously ed. by Loar, Aristotle, multiplicity, izzing, hazzing, being, good, Code. Grice offers a thorough discussion of Owens treatment of Aristotle as leading us to the snares of ontology. Grice distinguishes between izzing and hazzing, which he thinks help in clarifying, more axiomatico, what Aristotle is getting at with his remarks on essential versus non-essential predication. Surely, for Grice, being, nor indeed good, should not be multiplied beyond necessity, but izzing and hazzing are already multiplied. The Grice Papers contains drafts of the essay eventually submitted for publication by Loar in memoriam Grice. Note that the Grice Papers contains a typically Griceian un-publication, entitled Aristotle and multiplicity simpliciter. Rather than Aristotle on, as the title for the PPQ piece goes. Note also that, since its multiplicity simpliciter, it refers to Aristotle on two key ideas: being and the good. As Code notes in his contribution to PGRICE, Grice first presents his thoughts on izzing and hazzing publicly at Vancouver. Jones has developed the axiomatic treatment favoured by Grice. For Grice there is multiplicity in both being and good (ton agathon), both accountable in terms of conversational implicata, of course. If in Prolegomena, Grice was interested in criticising himself, in essays of historical nature like these, Grice is seeing Aristotles Athenian dialectic as a foreshadow of the Oxonian dialectic, and treating him as an equal. Grice is yielding his razor: senses are not to be multiplied beyond necessity. But then Aristotle is talking about the multiplicity of is and is good. Surely, there are ways to turn Aristotle into the monoguist he has to be! There is a further item in the Grice collection that combines Aristotle on being with Aristotle on good, which is relevant in connection with this. Aristotle on being and good (ἀγαθόν). Aristotle, being, good (agathon), ἀγαθός. As from this f., the essays are ordered alphabetically, starting with Aristotle, Grice will explore Aristotle on being or is and good (ἀγαθός) in explorations with Code. Grice comes up with izzing and hazzing as the two counterparts to Aristotles views on, respectively, essential and non-essential predication. Grices views on Aristotle on the good (strictly, there is no need to restrict Arisstotles use to the neuter form, since he employs ἀγαθός) connect with Grices Aristotelian idea of eudaemonia, that he explores elsewhere. Strictly: Aristotle on being and the good. If that had been Grices case, he would have used the definite article. Otherwise, good may well translate as masculine, ἀγαθός ‒the agathetic implicatum.  He plays with Dodgson, cabbages and kings. For what is a good cabbage as opposed to a cabbage? It does not require very sharp eyes, but only our willingness to use the eyes one has, to see that speech is permeated with the notion of purpose. To say what a certain kind of thing is is only too frequently partly to say that it is for. This feature applies to talk of, e. g., ships, shoes, sailing wax, and kings; and, possibly and perhaps most excitingly, it extends even to cabbages! Although Grice suspects Urmson might disagree. v. Grice on Urmsons apples. Grice at his jocular best. If he is going to be a Kantian, he will. He uses Kantian jargon to present his theory of conversation. This he does only at Harvard. The implicature being that talking of vaguer assumptions of helpfulness would not sound too convincing. So he has the maxim, the super-maxim, and the sub-maxim. A principle and a maxim is Kantian enough. But when he actually echoes Kant, is when he introduces what he later calls the conversational categories – the keyword here is conversational category, as categoria is used by Aristotle and Kant  ‒ or Kantotle. Grice surely knew that, say, his Category of Conversational Modality had nothing to do with the Kantian Category of Modality. Still, he stuck with the idea of four categories (versus Aristotles ten, eight or seven, as the text you consult may tell you): category of conversational quantity (which at Oxford he had formulated in much vaguer terms like strength and informativeness and entailment), the category of conversational quality (keyword: principle of conversational trust), and the category of conversational relation, where again Kants relation has nothing to do with the maxim Grice associates with this category. In any case, his Kantian joke may be helpful when considering the centrality of the concept category simpliciter that Grice had to fight with with his pupils at Oxford – he was lucky to have Austin and Strawson as co-lecturers! Grice was irritated by L and S defining kategoria as category. I guess I knew that. He agreed with their second shot, predicable. Ultimately, Grices concern with category is his concern with person, or prote ousia, as used by Aristotle, and as giving a rationale to Grices agency-based approach to the philosophical enterprise. Aristotle used kategorein in the sense of to predicate, assert something of something, and kategoria. The prote ousia is exemplified by o tis anthropos. It is obvious that Grice wants to approach Aristotles semantics and Aristotles metaphysics at one fell swoop. Grice reads Aristotles Met. , and finds it understandable. Consider the adjective French (which Aristotle does NOT consider) ‒ as it occurs in phrases such as Michel Foucault is a French citizen.  Grice is not a French citizen. Michel Foucault once wrote a nice French poem.  Urmson once wrote a nice French essay on pragmatics. Michel Foucault was a French professor.  Michel Foucault is a French professor.  Michel Foucault is a French professor of philosophy. The following features are perhaps significant. The appearance of the adjective French, or Byzantine, as the case might be ‒ cf. I’m feeling French tonight. In these phrases is what Grice has as adjunctive rather than conjunctive, or attributive. A French poem is not necessarily something which combines the separate features of being a poem and being French, as a tall philosopher would simply combine the features of being tall and of being a philosopher. French in French poem, occurs adverbially. French citizen standardly means citizen of France. French poem standardly means poem in French. But it is a mistake to suppose that this fact implies that there is this or that meaning, or, worse, this or that Fregeian sense, of the expression French.  In any case, only metaphorically or metabolically can we say that French means this or that or has sense. An utterer means. An utterer makes sense. Cf. R. Pauls doubts about capitalizing major. French means, and figuratively at that, only one thing, viz. of or pertaining to France. And English only means of or pertaining to England.  French may be what Grice (unfollowing his remarks on The general theory of context) call context-sensitive. One might indeed say, if you like, that while French means ‒ or means only this or that, or that its only sense is this or that, French still means, again figuratively, a variety of things. French means-in-context of or pertaining to France. Symbolise that as expression E means-in-context that p. Expression E means-in-context C₂ that p₂. Relative to Context C₁ French means of France; as in the phrase French citizen. Relative to context C₂, French means  in the French language, as in the phrase, French poem ‒ whereas history does not behave, like this. Whether the focal item is a universal or a particular is, contra Aristotle, quite irrelevant to the question of what this or that related adjective means, or what its sense is. The medical art is no more what an utterer means when he utters the adjective medical, as is France what an utterer means by the adjective French. While the attachment of this or that context may suggest an interpretation in context of this or that expression as uttered by the utterer U, it need not be the case that such a suggestion is indefeasible. It might be e.g. that French poem would have to mean, poem composed in French, unless there were counter indications, that brings the utterer and the addressee to a different context C₃. In which case, perhaps what the utterer means by French poem is poem composed by a French competitor in this or that competition. For French professor there would be two obvious things an utterer might mean. Disambiguation will depend on the wider  expression-context  or in the situational context attaching to the this or that circumstance of utterance. Eschatology. Some like Hegel, but Collingwoods *my* man!  ‒ Grice. Grice participated in two consecutive evenings of the s. of programmes on metaphysics organised by Pears. Actually, charming Pears felt pretentious enough to label the meetings to be about the nature of metaphysics! Grice ends up discussing, as he should, Collingwood on presupposition. Met.  remained a favourite topic for Grices philosophical explorations, as it is evident from his essay on Met. , Philosophical Eschatology, and Platos Republic, repr. in his WOW . Possibly Hardie is to blame, since he hardly tutored Grice on metaphysics! Grices two BBC lectures are typically dated in tone. It was the (good ole) days when philosophers thought they could educate the non-elite by dropping Namess like Collingwood and stuff! The Third Programme was extremely popular, especially among the uneducated ones at London, as Pears almost put it, as it was a way for Londoners to get to know what is going on down at Oxford, the only place an uneducated (or educated, for that matter) Londoner at the time was interested in displaying some interest about! I mean, Johnson is right: if a man is tired of the nature of metaphysics, he is tired of life! Since the authorship is Grice, Strawson, and Pears, Met. , in Pears, The Nature of Met., The BBC Third Programme, it is somewhat difficult to identify what paragraphs were actually read by Grice (and which ones by Pears and which ones by Strawson). But trust the sharp Griceian to detect the correct implicature! There are many (too many) other items covered by these two lectures: Kant, Aristotle, in no particular order. And in The Grice Collection, for that matter, that cover the field of metaphysics. In the New World, as a sort of tutor in the graduate programme, Grice was expected to cover the discipline at various seminars. Only I dislike discipline! Perhaps his clearest exposition is in the opening section of his Met. , philosophical eschatology, and Platos Republic, repr. in his WOW , where he states, bluntly that all you need is  metaphysics! metaphysics, Miscellaneous, metaphysics notes, Grice would possible see metaphysics as a class – category figuring large. He was concerned with the methodological aspects of the metaphysical enterprise, since he was enough of a relativist to allow for one metaphysical scheme to apply to one area of discourse (one of Eddingtons tables) and another metaphysical scheme to apply to another (Eddingtons other table). In the third programme for the BBC Grice especially enjoyed criticising John Wisdoms innovative look at metaphysics as a bunch of self-evident falsehoods (Were all alone). Grice focuses on Wisdom on the knowledge of other minds. He also discusses Collingwoods presuppositions, and Bradley on the reality-appearance distinction. Grices reference to Wisdom was due to Ewings treatment of Wisdom on metaphysics. Grices main motivation here is defending metaphysics against Ayer. Ayer thought to win more Oxonian philosophers than he did at Oxford, but he was soon back in London. Post-war Oxford had become conservative and would not stand to the nonsense of Ayers claiming that metaphysics is nonsense, especially, as Ayers implicature also was, that philosophy is nonsense! Perhaps the best summary of Griceian metaphysics is his From Genesis to Revelations: a new discourse on metaphysics. It’s an ontological answer that one must give to Grices metabolic operation from utterers meaning to expression meaning, Grice had been interested in the methodology of metaphysics since his Oxford days. He counts as one memorable experience in the area his participation in two episodes for the BBC Third Programme on The nature of metaphysics with the organiser, Pears, and his former tutee, Strawson on the panel. Grice was particularly keen on Collingwoods views on metaphysical presuppositions, both absolute and relative! Grice also considers John Wisdoms view of the metaphysical proposition as a blatant falsehood. Grice considers Bradleys Hegelian metaphysics of the absolute, in Appearance and reality. Refs.: While Grice’s choice was ‘eschatology,’ as per WoW, Essay, other keywords are useful, notably “metaphysics,” “ontology,” “theorizing,” and “theory-theory,” in The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

explicatum. At Oxford, nobody was interested in the explication. That’s too explicit. It was, being English, all about the ‘innuendo,’ the ‘understatement,’ the implication. The first Oxonian was C. K. Grant, with his ‘pragmatic implication.’ Then came Nowell-Smith with his ‘contextual implication.’ Urmson was there with his ‘implied’ claims. And Strawson was saying that ‘the king of France is not bald’ implies that thereis a king of France. So, it was enough, Grice thought! We have to analyse what we imply by imply, or at least what _I_ do. He thought publishing was always vulgar. But when he was invited for one of those popularisations, when he was invited to contribute to a symposium on a topic of his choice – he chose “The causal theory of perception” and dedicates an ‘extensum excursus’ on ‘implication.’ The conclusion is simple: “The pillar box seems red” implies. And implies a LOT. So much so that neo-Wittgensteinians were saying that what Grice implies is part of what Grice is committed in terms of ‘satisfactoriness’ of what he is expressing. Not so! What Grice implies is, surely, that the pillar box may not be red. But surely he can cancel that EXPLICITLY “The pillar box seems red and is red.” So, what he implies is not part of what he explicitly commits in terms of value satisfactoriness. In terms of value satisfactoriness, Grice distinguishes between the subperceptual (“The pillar box seems red”) and the perceptual proper (“Grice perceives that the pillar box is red”). The causal theory merely states that “Grice perceives that the pillar box is red” (a perceptum for the subperceptum, “the pillar box seems red”) if and only if, first,  the pillar box is red; second, the subperceptum: the pillar box seems red; and third and last, the fact that the pillar box is red CAUSES the pillar box seeming red. None of that is explicit, but none of it is implicit. It is merely a philosophical reductive analysis which has cleared away an unnecessary implication out of the picture. The philosopher, involved in conceptual analysis, has freed from the ‘pragmatic implication’ and can provide, for his clearly stated ‘analysans,’ three different prongs which together constitute the necessary and sufficient conditions – the analysandum. And his problem is resolved. Grice’s cavalier attitude towards the explicit is obvious in the way he treats “Wilson is a great man,” versus “the prime minister is a great man” “I don’t care if I’m not sure if I want to say that an emissor of (i) and an emissor of (ii) have put forward, in an explicit fashion, the same proposition. His account of ‘disambiguation’ is meant even more jocularly. He knows that in the New World, they spell ‘vice’ as  ‘vyse’ – So Wilson being in the grip of a vyse is possibly the same thing put forward as the prime minister being caught in the grip of either a carpenter’s tool or a sort of something like a sin – if not both. (Etymologically, ‘vice’ and ‘vice’ are cognate, since they are ‘violent’ things – cf. violence. While ‘implicare’ developed into vulgar Engish as ‘employ,’ “it’s funny explicature did not develop into ‘exploy.’”A logical construction is an explication. A reductive analysis is an explication. Cf. Grice on Reductionism as a bete noire, sometimes misquoted as Reductivism. Grice used both ‘explanation’ and ‘explication’, so one has to be careful. When he said that he looked for a theory that would explain conversation or the implicatum, he did not mean explication. What is the difference, etymologically, between  explicate and explain? Well, explain is from ‘explanare,’ which gives ‘explanatum.’Trop., of speech, to make plain or clear, to explain (class.:“syn.: explico, expono, interpretor): qualis differentia sit honesti et decori, facilius intelligi quam explanari potest,” Cic.Off. 1, 27, 94; cf. Quint. 5, 10, 4: “rem latentem explicare definiendo, obscuram explanare interpretando, etc.,” Cic. Brut. 42, 152: “explanare apertiusque dicere aliquid,” id. Fin. 2, 19, 60: “docere et explanare,” id. Off. 1, 28, 101: “aliquid conjecturā,” id. de Or. 2, 69, 280: “rem,” id. Or. 24, 80: “quem amicum tuum ais fuisse istum, explana mihi,” Ter. Ph. 2, 3, 33: “de cujus hominis moribus pauca prius explananda sunt, quam initium narrandi faciam,” Sall. C. 4, 5.—Pass.impers.: “juxta quod flumen, aut ubi fuerit, non satis explanatur,” Plin. 6, 23, 26, § 97.—2. To utter distinctly: “et ille juravit, expressit, explanavitque verba, quibus, etc.,” Plin. Pan. 64, 3.Hence, explānātus , a, um, P. a. (acc. to II.), plain, distinct (rare): “claritas in voce, in lingua etiam explanata vocum impressio,” i. e. an articulate pronunciation, Cic. Ac. 1, 5, 19: parum explanatis vocibus sermo praeruptus, Sen. de Ira, 1, 1, 4. Adv. ex-plānāte , plainly, clearly, distinctly: “scriptum,” Gell. 16, 8, 3.—Comp.: “ut definire rem cum explanatius, tum etiam uberius (opp. presse et anguste),” Cic. Or. 33, 117.Cr. Occam. M. O. R. the necessity is explanatory necessity. Senses or conventional implicatata (not reachable by ‘argument’) and Strawson do not explain. G. A. Paul does not explain. Unlike Austin, who was in love with a taxonomy, Grice loved an explanation. “Ἀρχὴν δὲ τῶν πάντων ὕδωρ ὑπεστήσατο, καὶ τὸν κόσμον ἔμψυχον καὶ δαιμόνων πλήρη. “Arkhen de ton panton hudor hupestesato.” Thales’s doctrine is that water is the universal primary substance, and that the world is animate and full of divinities. “Ἀλλὰ Θαλῆς μὲν ὁ τῆς τοιαύτης ἀρχηγὸς φιλοσοφίας ὕδωρ φησὶν εἶναι (διὸ καὶ τὴν γῆν ἐφ᾽ ὕδατος ἀπεφήνατο εἶναι), λαβὼν ἴσως τὴν ὑπόληψιν ταύτην ἐκ τοῦ πάντων ὁρᾶν τὴν τροφὴν ὑγρὰν οὖσαν καὶ αὐτὸ τὸ θερμὸν ἐκ τούτου γιγνόμενον καὶ τούτῳ ζῶν (τὸ δ᾽ ἐξ οὗ γίγνεται, τοῦτ᾽ ἐστὶν ἀρχὴ πάντων) – διά τε δὴ τοῦτο τὴν ὑπόληψιν λαβὼν ταύτην καὶ διὰ τὸ πάντων τὰ σπέρματα τὴν φύσιν ὑγρὰν ἔχειν, τὸ δ᾽ ὕδωρ ἀρχὴν τῆς φύσεως εἶναι τοῖς ὑγροῖς. εἰσὶ δέ τινες οἳ καὶ τοὺς παμπαλαίους καὶ πολὺ πρὸ τῆς νῦν γενέσεως καὶ πρώτους θεολογήσαντας οὕτως οἴονται περὶ τῆς φύσεως ὑπολαβεῖν‧ Ὠκεανόν τε γὰρ καὶ Τηθὺν ἐποίησαν τῆς γενέσεως πατέρας [Hom. Ξ 201], καὶ τὸν ὅρκον τῶν θεῶν ὕδωρ, τὴν καλουμένην ὑπ᾽ αὐτῶν Στύγα τῶν ποιητῶν‧ τιμιώτατον μὲν γὰρ τὸ πρεσβύτατον, ὅρκος δὲ τὸ τιμιώτατόν ἐστιν. εἰ μὲν οὖν [984a] ἀρχαία τις αὕτη καὶ παλαιὰ τετύχηκεν οὖσα περὶ τῆς φύσεως ἡ δόξα, τάχ᾽ ἂν ἄδηλον εἴη, Θαλῆς μέντοι λέγεται οὕτως ἀποφήνασθαι περὶ τῆς πρώτης αἰτίας. (Ἵππωνα γὰρ οὐκ ἄν τις ἀξιώσειε θεῖναι μετὰ τούτων διὰ τὴν εὐτέλειαν αὐτοῦ τῆς διανοίας)‧ Ἀναξιμένης δὲ ἀέρα καὶ Διογένης πρότερον ὕδατος καὶ μάλιστ᾽ ἀρχὴν τιθέασι τῶν ἁπλῶν σωμάτων.” De caelo: “Οἱ δ᾽ ἐφ᾽ ὕδατος κεῖσθαι [sc. τὴν γὴν]. τοῦτον γὰρ ἀρχαιότατον παρειλήφαμεν τὸν λόγον, ὅν φασιν εἰπεῖν Θαλῆν τὸν Μιλήσιον, ὡς διὰ τὸ πλωτὴν εἶναι μένουσαν ὥσπερ ξύλον ἤ τι τοιοῦτον ἕτερον (καὶ γὰρ τούτων ἐπ᾽ ἀέρος μὲν οὐθὲν πέφυκε μένειν, ἀλλ᾽ ἐφ᾽ ὕδατος), ὥσπερ οὐ τὸν αὐτὸν λόγον ὄντα περὶ τῆς γῆς καὶ τοῦ ὕδατος τοῦ ὀχοῦντος τὴν γῆν‧ οὐδὲ γὰρ τὸ ὕδωρ πέφυκε μένειν μετέωρον, ἀλλ᾽ ἐπί τινός [294b] ἐστιν. ἔτι δ᾽ ὥσπερ ἀὴρ ὕδατος κουφότερον, καὶ γῆς ὕδωρ‧ ὥστε πῶς οἷόν τε τὸ κουφότερον κατωτέρω κεῖσθαι τοῦ βαρυτέρου τὴν φύσιν; ἔτι δ᾽ εἴπερ ὅλη πέφυκε μένειν ἐφ᾽ ὕδατος, δῆλον ὅτι καὶ τῶν μορίων ἕκαστον [αὐτῆς]‧ νῦν δ᾽ οὐ φαίνεται τοῦτο γιγνόμενον, ἀλλὰ τὸ τυχὸν μόριον φέρεται εἰς βυθόν, καὶ θᾶττον τὸ μεῖζον. The problem of the nature of matter, and its transformation into the myriad things of which the universe is made, engaged the natural philosophers, commencing with Thales. For his hypothesis to be credible, it was essential that he could explain how all things could come into being from water, and return ultimately to the originating material. It is inherent in Thaless hypotheses that water had the potentiality to change to the myriad things of which the universe is made, the botanical, physiological, meteorological and geological states. In Timaeus, 49B-C, Plato had Timaeus relate a cyclic process. The passage commences with that which we now call “water” and describes a theory which was possibly that of Thales. Thales would have recognized evaporation, and have been familiar with traditional views, such as the nutritive capacity of mist and ancient theories about spontaneous generation, phenomena which he may have observed, just as Aristotle believed he, himself had, and about which Diodorus Siculus, Epicurus (ap. Censorinus, D.N. IV.9), Lucretius (De Rerum Natura) and Ovid (Met. I.416-437) wrote. When Aristotle reported Thales’s pronouncement that the primary principle is water, he made a precise statement: Thales says that it [the nature of things] is water, but he became tentative when he proposed reasons which might have justified Thaless decision. Thales’s supposition may have arisen from observation. It is Aristotle’s opinion that Thales may have observed, that the nurture of all creatures is moist, and that warmth itself is generated from moisture and lives by it; and that from which all things come to be is their first principle. Then, Aristotles tone changed towards greater confidence. He declared: Besides this, another reason for the supposition would be that the semina of all things have a moist nature. In continuing the criticism of Thales, Aristotle wrote: That from which all things come to be is their first principle (Metaph. 983 b25).  Simple metallurgy had been practised long before Thales presented his hypotheses, so Thales knew that heat could return metals to a liquid state. Water exhibits sensible changes more obviously than any of the other so-called elements, and can readily be observed in the three states of liquid, vapour and ice. The understanding that water could generate into earth is basic to Thaless watery thesis. At Miletus it could readily be observed that water had the capacity to thicken into earth. Miletus stood on the Gulf of Lade through which the Maeander river emptied its waters. Within living memory, older Milesians had witnessed the island of Lade increasing in size within the Gulf, and the river banks encroaching into the river to such an extent that at Priene, across the gulf from Miletus the warehouses had to be rebuilt closer to the waters edge. The ruins of the once prosperous city-port of Miletus are now ten kilometres distant from the coast and the Island of Lade now forms part of a rich agricultural plain. There would have been opportunity to observe other areas where earth generated from water, for example, the deltas of the Halys, the Ister, about which Hesiod wrote (Theogony, 341), now called the Danube, the Tigris-Euphrates, and almost certainly the Nile. This coming-into-being of land would have provided substantiation of Thaless doctrine. To Thales water held the potentialities for the nourishment and generation of the entire cosmos. Aëtius attributed to Thales the concept that even the very fire of the sun and the stars, and indeed the cosmos itself is nourished by evaporation of the waters (Aëtius, Placita).  It is not known how Thales explained his watery thesis, but Aristotle believed that the reasons he proposed were probably the persuasive factors in Thaless considerations. Thales gave no role to the Olympian gods. Belief in generation of earth from water was not proven to be wrong until A.D. 1769 following experiments of Antoine Lavoisier, and spontaneous generation was not disproved until the nineteenth century as a result of the work of Louis Pasteur.The first philosophical explanation of the world was speculative not practical. has its intelligibility in being identified with one of its parts (the world is water). First philosophical explanation for Universe human is rational and the world in independent; He said the arché is water; Monist: He believed reality is one  Thales of Miletus, first philosophical explanation of the origin and nature of justice (and  Why after all, did a Thales  is Water.” Without the millions of species that make up the biosphere, and the billions of interactions between them that go on day by day,.Oddly, Grice had spent some time on x-questions in the Kant lectures. And why is an x-question. A philosophical explanation of conversation. A philosophical explanation of implicature. Description vs. explanation. Grice quotes from Fisher, Never contradict. Never explain. Taxonomy, is worse than explanation, always. Grice is exploring the taxonomy-description vs. explanation dichotomy. He would often criticise ordinary-language philosopher Austin for spending too much valuable time on linguistic botany, without an aim in his head. Instead, his inclination, a dissenting one, is to look for the big picture of it all, and disregard a piece-meal analysis. Conversation is a good example. While Austin would Subjectsify Language (Linguistic Nature), Grice rather places rationality squarely on the behaviour displayed by utterers as they make conversational moves that their addressees will judge as rational along specific lines. Observation of the principle of conversational helpfulness is rational (reasonable) along the following lines: anyone who cares about the two goals which are central to conversation, viz. giving and receiving information, and influencing and being influenced by others, is expected to have an interest in taking part in a conversation which will only be profitable (if not possible) under the assumption that it is conducted along the lines of the principle of conversational helpfulness. Grice is not interested in conversation per se, but as a basis for a theory that explains the mistakes ordinary-language philosophers are making. The case of What is known to be the case is not believed to be the case. Refs.: One good source is the “Prejudices and predilections.” Also the first set of ‘Logic and conversation.” There is also an essay on the ‘that’ versus the ‘why.’ The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

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

Stabilitatum – stabilire -- Establishment – Grice speaks of the Establishment twice. Once re: Gellner: non-Establishment criticizing the English Establishment. Second: to refute Lewis. Something can be ‘established’ and not be conventional. “Surely Lewis should know the Graeco-Roman root of establish to figure that out!” stăbĭlĭo , īvi, ītum (sync. I.imperf. stabilibat, Enn. Ann. 44), 4, v. a. stabilis, to make firm, steadfast, or stable; to fix, stay, establish (class.; esp. in the trop. sense). I. Lit.: semita nulla pedem stabilibat, Enn. ap. Cic. Div. 1, 20, 40 (Ann. v. 44 Vahl.): “eo stabilita magis sunt,” Lucr. 3, 202; cf.: confirmandi et stabiliendi causā singuli ab infimo solo pedes terrā exculcabantur, * Caes. B. G. 7, 73: “vineas,” Col. 4, 33, 1: “loligini pedes duo, quibus se velut ancoris stabiliunt,” Plin. 9, 28, 44, § 83.— II. Trop.: regni stabilita scamna solumque, Enn. ap. Cic. Div. 1, 48 fin. (Ann. v. 99 Vahl.): “alicui regnum suom,” Plaut. Am. 1, 1, 39; cf.: libertatem civibus, Att. ap. Cic. Sest. 58, 123: “rem publicam (opp. evertere),” Cic. Fin. 4, 24, 65; so, “rem publicam,” id. Sest. 68, 143: “leges,” id. Leg. 1, 23, 62: “nisi haec urbs stabilita tuis consiliis erit,” id. Marcell. 9, 29: “matrimonia firmiter,” id. Rep. 6, 2, 2: pacem, concordiam, Pseud.-Sall. Rep. Ordin. 1 fin. (p. 267 Gerl.): “res Capuae stabilitas Romana disciplina,” Liv. 9, 20: “nomen equestre in consulatu (Cicero),” Plin. 33, 2, 8, § 34: “(aegrum) ad retinendam patientiam,” to strengthen, fortify him, Gell. 12, 5, 3. While Grice’s play with ‘estaablished’ is in the second metabolical stage of his programme – where ‘means’ applies to things other than the emissor, surely metaphorically – he is allowing that ‘estabalish’ may be used in the one-off predicament. By drawing a skull, U is establishing a procedure. Grice notably wants to make ‘established’ a weaker variant of ‘conventional.’ So that x, whatever, may be ‘established’ but not ‘conventional.’ In fact, it can be argued that to establish you have to do it at least once. Cfr. ‘settled. ‘Greenwich, Conn., settled in 1639.’ ‘Established’ Surely it would be obtuse to say that Greenwich, Conn. Was “conventionalized”.

farquharsonism – Grice enjoyed reading Cook Wilson, and was grateful to A S L Farquharson for making that possible.

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

Freges Sättigung: Frege’s original Sinn. Fregeian saturation. Grice was once at the Bodleian assisting Austin in his translation of Frege’s Grundlegung – and browsing through the old-style library fiches, Grice exclaims: “All these essays in German journals about Fregeian saturation can surely saturate one!’ Austin was not amused. Neben mathematischen und physikalischen Vorlesungen sowie einer in Philosophie hat Frege in Jena Vorlesungen in Chemie besucht und in diesem Fach auch an einem einsemestrigen Praktikum teilgenommen. In seiner wohlbekannten Rede über Bindung und Sättigung von Ausdrücken klingt davon noch etwas nach.Betrachten wir nun die Konsequenzen der Fregeschen Auffassung der prädikativen Natur der Begriffe. Hierfür ist es zunächst erforderlich, abschließend einige Besonderheiten anzumerken, die daraus folgen, daß auch Begriffsausdrücke bedeutungsvoll sein sollen. Zunächst hatten wir ja mit Hilfe der Analogie festgestellt, daß in einem Satz dasjenige, was Begriffsausdrücke bedeuten, denselben ontologischen Status haben muß wie das, was Eigennamen bedeuten. Insofern scheinen sowohl Eigennamen als auch Begriffsausdrücke jeweils bestimmte (wenn auch hinsichtlich ihrer Sättigung oder Bindungsfähigkeit unterschiedene) Entitäten als Bedeutung zu haben. Und Frege erklärt auch explizit „Begriff ist Bedeutung eines Prädikates“ [BG, 198]. Frege’s distinction between saturated expressions and unsaturated expressions corresponds to the distinction between objects and concepts. A saturated expression refers to an object or argument and has a complete sense in itself, while an unsaturated expression refers to a concept or function and does not have a complete sense. For example, in the sentence “Socrates is the teacher of Plato,” “Socrates” and “Plato” are proper names and are saturated, while “. . . is the teacher of . . .” is unsaturated, for it has empty spaces that must be filled with saturated expressions before it gains a complete sense. “Statements in general . . . can be imagined to be split up into two parts; one complete in itself, and the other in need of supplementation, or ‘unsaturated’.” Frege, “Function and Concept,” Philosophical Writings of Gottlob Frege.

liberatum – liberum arbitrium – vide ‘arbitrium’ How can arbitrium not be free? Oddly this concerns rationality. For Grice, as for almost everyone, a rational agent is an autonomous agent. Freewill is proved grammatically. The Romans had a ‘modus deliberativus’, and even a ‘modus optativus’ (ortike ktesis) “in imitationem Graecis.”If you utter “Close the door!” you rely on free will. It would be otiose for a language or system of communication to have as its goal to inform/get informed, and influence/being influenced if determinism and fatalism were true.  freedom: Like identity, crucial in philosophy in covering everything. E cannot communicate that p, unless E is FREE. An amoeba cannot communicate thatp. End setting, unweighed rationality, rationality about the ends, autonomy. Grice was especially concerned with Kants having brought back the old Greek idea of eleutheria for philosophical discussion. Refs.: the obvious keywords are “freedom” and “free,” but most of the material is in “Actions and events,” in PPQ, and below under ‘kantianism’ – The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.Bratman, of Stanford, much influenced by Grice (at Berkeley then) thanks to their Hands-Across-the-Bay programme, helps us to understand this Pological progression towards the idea of strong autonomy or freedom. Recall that Grices Ps combine Lockes very intelligent parrots with Russells and Carnaps nonsensical Ps of which nothing we are told other than they karulise elatically. Grices purpose is to give a little thought to a question. What are the general principles exemplified, in creature-construction, in progressing from one type of P to a higher type? What kinds of steps are being made? The kinds of step with which Grice deals are those which culminate in a licence to include, within the specification of the content of the psychological state of this or that type of P, a range of expressions which would be inappropriate with respect to this lower-type P. Such expressions include this or that connective, this or that quantifier, this or that temporal modifier, this or that mode indicator, this or that modal operator, and (importantly) this or that expression to refer to this or that souly state like  … judges that … and … will that … This or that expression, that is, the availability of which leads to the structural enrichment of the specification of content. In general, these steps will be ones by which this or that item or idea which has, initially, a legitimate place outside the scope of this or that souly instantiable (or, if you will, the expressions for which occur legitimately outside the scope of this or that souly predicate) come to have a legitimate place within the scope of such an instantiable, a step by which, one might say, this or that item or ideas comes to be internalised. Grice is disposed to regard as prototypical the sort of natural disposition or propension which Hume attributes to a person, and which is very important to Hume, viz. the tendency of the soul to spread itself upon objects, i.e. to project into the world items which, properly or primitively considered, is a feature of this or that souly state. Grice sets out in stages the application of aspects of the genitorial programme. We then start with a zero-order, with a P equipped to satisfy unnested, or logically amorphous, judging and willing, i.e. whose contents do not involve judging or willing. We soon reach our first P, G₁. It would be advantageous to a P₀ if it could have this or that judging and this or that willing, which relate to its own judging or willing. Such G₁ could be equipped to control or regulate its own judgings and willings. It will presumably be already constituted so as to conform to the law that, cæteris paribus, if it wills that p and judge that ~p, if it can, it makes it the case that p in its soul To give it some control over its judgings and willings, we need only extend the application of this law to the Ps judging and willing. We equip the P so that, cæteris paribus, if it wills that it is not the case that it wills that p and it judges that they do will that p, if it can, it makes it the case that it does not will that p. And we somehow ensure that sometimes it can do this. It may be that the installation of this kind of control would go hand in had with the installation of the capacity for evaluation. Now, unlike it is the case with a G1, a G2s intentional effort depends on the motivational strength of its considered desire at the time of action. There is a process by which this or that conflicting considered desire motivates action as a broadly causal process, a process that reveals motivational strength. But a G2 might itself try to weigh considerations provided by such a conflicting desire B1 and B2 in deliberation about this or that pro and this or that con of various alternatives. In the simplest case, such weighing treats each of the things desired as a prima facie justifying end. In the face of conflict, it weighs this and that desired end, where the weights correspond to the motivational strength of the associated considered desire. The outcome of such deliberation, Aristotle’s prohairesis, matches the outcome of the causal motivational process envisioned in the description of G₂. But, since the weights it invokes in such deliberation correspond to the motivational strength of this or that relevant considered desire (though perhaps not to the motivational strength of this or that relevant considered desire), the resultant activitiy matches those of a corresponding G₂ (each of whose desires, we are assuming, are considered). To be more realistic, we might limit ourselves to saying that a P₂ has the capacity to make the transition from this or that unconsidered desire to this or that considered desire, but does not always do this. But it will keep the discussion more manageable to simplify and to suppose that each desire is considered. We shall not want this G2 to depend, in each will and act in ways that reveal the motivational strength of this or that considered desire at the time of action, but for a G₃ it will also be the case that in this or that, though not each) case, it acts on the basis of how it weights this or that end favoured by this or that conflicting considered desire. This or that considered desire will concern matters that cannot be achieved simply by action at a single time. E. g. G3 may want to nurture a vegetable garden, or build a house. Such matters will require organized and coordinated action that extends over time. What the G3 does now will depend not only on what it now desires but also on what it now expects it will do later given what it does now. It needs a way of settling now what it will do later given what it does now. The point is even clearer when we remind ourselves that G3 is not alone. It is, we may assume, one of some number of G3; and in many cases it needs to coordinate what it does with what other G3 do so as to achieve ends desired by all participants, itself included. These costs are magnified for G4 whose various plans are interwoven so that a change in one element can have significant ripple effects that will need to be considered. Let us suppose that the general strategies G4 has for responding to new information about its circumstances are sensitive to these kinds of costs. Promoting in the long run the satisfaction of its considered desires and preferences. G₄ is a somewhat sophisticated planning agent but it has a problem. It can expect that its desires and preferences may well change over time and undermine its efforts at organizing and coordinating its activities over time. Perhaps in many cases this is due to the kind of temporal discounting. So for example G4 may have a plan to exercise every day but may tend to prefer a sequence of not exercising on the present day but exercising all days in the future, to a uniform sequence the present day included. At the end of the day it returns to its earlier considered preference in favour of exercising on each and every day. Though G₄, unlike G3, has the capacity to settle on prior plans or plaices concerning exercise, this capacity does not yet help in such a case. A creature whose plans were stable in ways in part shaped by such a no-regret principle would be more likely than G4 to resist temporary temptations. So let us build such a principle into the stability of the plans of a G5, whose plans and policies are not derived solely from facts about its limits of time, attention, and the like. It is also grounded in the central concerns of a planning agent with its own future, concerns that lend special significance to anticipated future regret. So let us add to G5 the capacity and disposition to arrive at such hierarchies of higher-order desires concerning its will. This gives us creature G6. There is a problem with G6, one that has been much discussed. It is not clear why a higher-order desire  ‒ even a higher-order desire that a certain desire be ones will  ‒ is not simply one more desire in the pool of desires (Berkeley Gods will problem). Why does it have the authority to constitute or ensure the agents (i. e. the creatures) endorsement or rejection of a first-order desire? Applied to G6 this is the question of whether, by virtue solely of its hierarchies of desires, it really does succeed in taking its own stand of endorsement or rejection of various first-order desires. Since it was the ability to take its own stand that we are trying to provide in the move to P₆, we need some response to this challenge. The basic point is that G₆ is not merely a time-slice agent. It is, rather, and understands itself to be, a temporally persisting planning agent, one who begins, and continues, and completes temporally extended projects. On a broadly Lockean view, its persistence over time consists in relevant psychological continuities (e.g., the persistence of attitudes of belief and intention) and connections (e.g., memory of a past event, or the later intentional execution of an intention formed earlier). Certain attitudes have as a primary role the constitution and support of such Lockean continuities and connections. In particular, policies that favour or reject various desires have it as their role to constitute and support various continuities both of ordinary desires and of the politicos themselves. For this reason such policies are not merely additional wiggles in the psychic stew. Instead, these policies have a claim to help determine where the agent ‒ i.e., the temporally persisting agent ‒ stands with respect to its desires, or so it seems to me reasonable to say. The psychology of G7 continues to have the hierarchical structure of pro-attitudes introduced with G6. The difference is that the higher-order pro-attitudes of G6 were simply characterized as desires in a broad, generic sense, and no appeal was made to the distinctive species of pro-attitude constituted by plan-like attitudes. That is the sense in which the psychology of G7 is an extension of the psychology of G6. Let us then give G7 such higher-order policies with the capacity to take a stand with respect to its desires by arriving at relevant higher-order policies concerning the functioning of those desires over time. G₇ exhibits a merger of hierarchical and planning structures. Appealing to planning theory and ground in connection to the temporally extended structure of agency to be ones will. G7 has higher-order policies that favour or challenge motivational roles of its considered desires. When G7 engages in deliberative weighing of conflicting, desired ends it seems that the assigned weights should reflect the policies that determine where it stands with respect to relevant desires. But the policies we have so far appealed to ‒ policies concerning what desires are to be ones will ‒ do not quite address this concern. The problem is that one can in certain cases have policies concerning which desires are to motivate and yet these not be policies that accord what those desires are for a corresponding justifying role in deliberation. G8. A solution is to give our creature, G_8, the capacity to arrive at policies that express its commitment to be motivated by a desire by way of its treatment of that desire as providing, in deliberation, a justifying end for action. G₈ has policies for treating (or not treating) certain desires as providing justifying ends, as, in this way, reason-providing, in motivationally effective deliberation. Let us call such policies self-governing policies. We will suppose that these policies are mutually compatible and do not challenge each other. In this way G8 involves an extension of structures already present in G7. The grounds on which G8 arrives at (and on occasion revises) such self-governing policies will be many and varied. We can see these policies as crystallizing complex pressures and concerns, some of which are grounded in other policies or desires. These self-governing policies may be tentative and will normally not be immune to change. If we ask what G8 values in this case, the answer seems to be: what it values is constituted in part by its higher-order self-governing policies. In particular, it values exercise over nonexercise even right now, and even given that it has a considered, though temporary, preference to the contrary. Unlike lower Ps, what P₈ now values is not simply a matter of its present, considered desires and preferences. Now this model of P8 seems in relevant aspects to be a partial) model of us, in our better moments, of course. So we arrive at the conjecture that one important kind of valuing of which we are capable involves, in the cited ways, both our first-order desires and our higher order self-governing policies. In an important sub-class of cases our valuing involves reflexive polices that are both first-order policies of action and higher-order policies to treat the first-order policy as reason providing in motivationally effective deliberation. This may seem odd. Valuing seems normally to be a first-order attitude. One values honesty, say. The proposal is that an important kind of valuing involves higher-order policies. Does this mean that, strictly speaking, what one values (in this sense) is itself a desire ‒ not honesty, say, but a desire for honesty? No, it does not. What I value in the present case is honesty; but, on the theory, my valuing honesty in art consists in certain higher-order self-governing policies. An agents reflective valuing involves a kind of higher-order willing. Freud challenged the power structure of the soul in Plato: it is the libido that takes control, not the logos. Grice takes up this polemic. Aristotle takes up Platos challenge, each type of soul is united to the next by the idea of life. The animal soul, between the vegetative and the rational, is not detachable.

futurum indicativum: The Grecians called it just ‘horistike klesis.’ The Romans transliterated as modus definitivus, inclination anima affectations demonstrans.’ But they had other terms, indicativus, finitus, finitivus, and pronuntiativus. f. H. P. Grice and D. F. Pears, “Predicting and deciding.” The future is essentially involved in “E communicates that p,” i. e. E, the emissor, intends that his addressee, in a time later than t, will come to believe this or that.  Grice is especially concerned with the future for his analysis of the communicatum. “Close the door!” By uttering “Close the door!,” U means that A is to close the door – in the future. So Grice spends HOURS exploring how one can have justification to have an intention about a future event. Grice is aware of the ‘shall.’ Grice uses ‘shall’ in the first person to mean wha the calls ‘futurum indicativum.’ (He considers the case of the ‘shall’ in the second and third persons in his analysis of mode). What are the conditions for the use of “shall” in the first person. “I shall close the door” may be predictable. It is in the indicative mode. “Thou shalt close the door,” and “He shall close the door” are in the imperative mode, or rather they correspond to the ‘futurum intentionale.’  Since Grice is an analytic philosopher, he specifies the analysis in the third person (“U means that…”) one has to be careful. For ‘futurum indicativum’ we have ‘shall’ in the first person, and ‘will’ in the second and third persons. So for the first group, U means that he will go. In the second group, U means that his addressee or a third party shall go. Grice adopts a subscript variant, stick with ‘will,’ but add the mode afterwards: so will-ind. will be ‘futurum indicativum,’ and will-int. will be futurum intentionale. The OED has it as “shall,” and defines as a Germanic preterite-present strong verb. In Old English, it is “sceal,” and which the OED renders as “to owe (money,” 1425 Hoccleve Min. Poems, The leeste ferthyng þat y men shal. To owe (allegiance); 1649 And by that feyth I shal to god and yow; followed by an infinitive, without to. Except for a few instances of shall will, shall may (mowe), "shall conne" in the 15th c., the infinitive after shall is always either that of a principal verb or of have or be; The present tense shall; in general statements of what is right or becoming, = ought, superseded by the past subjunctive should; in OE. the subjunctive present sometimes occurs in this use; 1460 Fortescue Abs. and Lim. Mon. The king shall often times send his judges to punish rioters and risers. 1562 Legh Armory; Whether are Roundells of all suche coloures, as ye haue spoken of here before? or shall they be Namesd Roundelles of those coloures? In OE. and occas. in Middle English used to express necessity of various kinds. For the many shades of meaning in Old English see Bosworth and Toller), = must, "must needs", "have to", "am compelled to", etc.; in stating a necessary condition: = `will have to, `must (if something else is to happen). 1596 Shaks. Merch. V. i. i. 116 You shall seeke all day ere you finde them, & when you haue them they are not worth the search. 1605 Shaks. Lear. He that parts vs, shall bring a Brand from Heauen. c In hypothetical clause, accompanying the statement of a necessary condition: = `is to. 1612 Bacon Ess., Greatn. Kingd., Neither must they be too much broken of it, if they shall be preserued in vigor; ndicating what is appointed or settled to take place = the mod. `is to, `am to, etc. 1600 Shaks. A.Y.L. What is he that shall buy his flocke and pasture? 1625 in Ellis Orig. Lett. Ser. "Tomorrow His Majesty will be present  to begin the Parliament which is thought shall be removed to Oxford; in commands or instructions; n the second person, “shall” is equivalent to an imperative. Chiefly in Biblical language, of divine commandments, rendering the jussive future of the Hebrew and Vulgate. In Old English the imperative mode is used in the ten commandments. 1382 Wyclif Exod. Thow shalt not tak the Names of the Lord thi God in veyn. So Coverdale, etc. b) In expositions: you shall understand, etc. (that). c) In the formula you shall excuse (pardon) me. (now "must"). 1595 Shaks. John. Your Grace shall pardon me, I will not backe. 1630 R. Johnsons Kingd. and Commw. 191 You shall excuse me, for I eat no flesh on Fridayes; n the *third* person. 1744 in Atkyns Chanc. Cases (1782) III. 166 The words shall and may in general acts of parliament, or in private constitutions, are to be construed imperatively, they must remove them; in the second and third persons, expressing the determination by the Griceian utterer to bring about some action, event, or state of things in the future, or (occasionally) to refrain from hindering what is otherwise certain to take place, or is intended by another person; n the second person. 1891 J. S. Winter Lumley. If you would rather not stay then, you shall go down to South Kensington Square then; in third person. 1591 Shaks. Two Gent. Verona shall not hold thee. 1604 Shaks. Oth. If there be any cunning Crueltie, That can torment him much, It shall be his. 1891 J. S. Winter Lumley xiv, `Oh, yes, sir, she shall come back, said the nurse. `Ill take care of that. `I will come back, said Vere; in special interrogative uses, a) in the *first* person, used in questions to which the expected answer is a command, direction, or counsel, or a resolve on the speakers own part. a) in questions introduced by an interrogative pronoun (in oblique case), adverb, or adverbial phrase. 1600 Fairfax Tasso. What shall we doe? shall we be gouernd still, By this false hand? 1865 Kingsley Herew. Where shall we stow the mare? b) in categorical questions, often expressing indignant reprobation of a suggested course of action, the implication (or implicature, or entailment) being that only a negative (or, with negative question an affirmative) answer is conceivable. 1611 Shaks. Wint. T. Shall I draw the Curtaine? 1802 Wordsw. To the Cuckoo i, O Cuckoo! shall I call thee Bird, Or but a wandering Voice? 1891 J. S. Winter Lumley `Are you driving, or shall I call you a cab? `Oh, no; Im driving, thanks. c) In *ironical* affirmative in exclamatory sentence, equivalent to the above interrogative use, cf. Ger. soll. 1741 Richardson Pamela, A pretty thing truly! Here I, a poor helpless Girl, raised from Poverty and Distress, shall put on Lady-airs to a Gentlewoman born. d) to stand shall I, shall I (later shill I, shall I: v. shilly-shally), to be at shall I, shall I (not): to be vacillating, to shilly-shally. 1674 R. Godfrey Inj. and Ab. Physic Such Medicines. that will not stand shall I? shall I? but will fall to work on the Disease presently. b Similarly in the *third* person, where the Subjects represents or includes the utterer, or when the utterer is placing himself at anothers point of view. 1610 Shaks. Temp., Hast thou (which art but aire) a touch, a feeling Of their afflictions, and shall not my selfe, One of their kinde be kindlier moud then thou art? In the second and third person, where the expected answer is a decision on the part of the utterer or of some person OTHER than the Subjects. The question often serves as an impassioned repudiation of a suggestion (or implicature) that something shall be permitted. 1450 Merlin `What shal be his Names? `I will, quod she, `that it haue Names after my fader. 1600 Shaks. A.Y.L.; What shall he haue that kild the Deare? 1737 Alexander Pope, translating Horaces Epistle, And say, to which shall our applause belong, this new court jargon, or the good old song? 1812 Crabbe Tales, Shall a wife complain? In indirect question. 1865 Kingsley Herew, Let her say what shall be done with it; as a mere auxiliary, forming, with present infinitive, the future, and (with perfect infinitive) the future perfect tense. In Old English, the notion of the future tense is ordinarily expressed by the present tense. To prevent ambiguity, wile (will) is not unfrequently used as a future auxiliary, sometimes retaining no trace of its initial usage, connected with the faculty of volition, and cognate indeed with volition. On the other hand, sceal (shall), even when rendering a Latin future, can hardly be said to have been ever a mere future tense-sign in Old English. It always expressed something of its original notion of obligation or necessity, so Hampshire is wrong in saying I shall climb Mt. Everest is predictable. In Middle English, the present early ceases to be commonly employed in futural usage, and the future is expressed by shall or will, the former being much more common. The usage as to the choice between the two auxiliaries, shall and will, has varied from time to time. Since the middle of the seventeenth century, with Wallis, mere predictable futurity is expressed in the *first* person by shall, in the second and third by will, and vice versa. In oratio obliqua, usage allows either the retention of the auxiliary actually used by the original utterer, or the substitution of that which is appropriate to the point of view of the uttering reporting; in Old English, ‘sceal,; while retaining its primary usage, serves as a tense-sign in announcing a future event as fated or divinely decreed, cf. Those spots mean measle. Hence shall has always been the auxiliary used, in all persons, for prophetic or oracular announcements of the future, and for solemn assertions of the certainty of a future event. 1577 in Allen Martyrdom Campion; The queene neither ever was, nor is, nor ever shall be the head of the Church of England. 1601 Shaks. Jul. C. Now do I Prophesie. A Curse shall light vpon the limbes of men. b In the first person, "shall" has, from the early ME. period, been the normal auxiliary for expressing mere futurity, without any adventitious notion. (a) Of events conceived as independent of the volition of the utterer. To use will in these cases is now a mark of, not public-school-educated Oxonian, but Scottish, Irish, provincial, or extra-British idiom. 1595 in Cath. Rec. Soc. Publ. V. 357 My frend, yow and I shall play no more at Tables now. 1605 Shaks. Macb. When shall we three meet againe? 1613 Shaks. Hen. VIII, Then wee shall haue em, Talke vs to silence. 1852 Mrs. Stowe Uncle Toms C.; `But what if you dont hit? `I shall hit, said George coolly; of voluntary action or its intended result. Here I shall or we shall is always admissible except where the notion of a present, as distinguished from a previous, decision or consent is to be expressed, in which case ‘will’ shall be used. Further, I shall often expresses a determination insisted on in spite of opposition. In the 16th c. and earlier, I shall often occurs where I will would now be used. 1559 W. Cunningham Cosmogr. Glasse, This now shall I alway kepe surely in memorye. 1601 Shaks. Alls Well; Informe him so tis our will he should.-I shall my liege. 1885 Ruskin On Old Road, note: Henceforward I shall continue to spell `Ryme without our wrongly added h. c In the *second* person, shall as a mere future auxiliary appears never to have been usual, but in categorical questions it is normal, e.g. Shall you miss your train? I am afraid you will. d In the *third* person, superseded by will, except when anothers statement or expectation respecting himself is reported in the third person, e.g. He conveys that he shall not have time to write. Even in this case will is still not uncommon, but in some contexts leads to serious ambiguity. It might be therefore preferable, to some, to use ‘he shall’ as the indirect rendering of ‘I shall.’ 1489 Caxton Sonnes of Aymon ii. 64 Yf your fader come agayn from the courte, he shall wyll yelde you to the kynge Charlemayne. 1799 J. Robertson Agric. Perth, The effect of the statute labour  has always been, now is, and probably shall continue to be, less productive than it might. Down to the eighteenth century, shall, the auxiliary appropriate to the first person, is sometimes used when the utterer refers to himself in the third person. Cf. the formula: `And your petitioner shall ever pray. 1798 Kemble Let. in Pearsons Catal. Mr. Kemble presents his respectful compliments to the Proprietors of the `Monthly Mirror, and shall have great pleasure at being at all able to aid them; in negative, or virtually negative, and interrogative use, shall often = will be able to. 1600 Shaks. Sonn. lxv: How with this rage shall beautie hold a plea. g) Used after a hypothetical clause or an imperative sentence in a statementsof a result to be expected from some action or occurrence. Now (exc. in the *first* person) usually replaced by will. But shall survives in literary use. 1851 Dasent Jest and Earnest, Visit Rome and you shall find him [the Pope] mere carrion. h) In clause expressing the object of a promise, or of an expectation accompanied by hope or fear, now only where shall is the ordinary future auxiliary, but down to the nineteenth century shall is often preferred to will in the second and third persons. 1628 in Ellis Orig. Lett. Ser., He is confident that the blood of Christ shall wash away his sins. 1654 E. Nicholas in N. Papers, I hope neither your Cosen Wat. Montagu nor  Walsingham shall be permitted to discourse  with  the D. of Gloucester; in impersonal phrases, "it shall be well, needful", etc. (to do so and so). (now "will"). j) shall be, added to a future date in clauses measuring time. 1617 Sir T. Wentworth in Fortescue Papers. To which purpose my late Lord Chancelour gave his direction about the 3. of Decembre shallbe-two-yeares; in the idiomatic use of the future to denote what ordinarily or occasionally occurs under specified conditions, shall was formerly the usual auxiliary. In the *second* and *third* persons, this is now somewhat formal or rhetorical. Ordinary language substitutes will or may. Often in antithetic statements coupled by an adversative conjunction or by and with adversative force. a in the first person. 1712 Steele Spect. In spite of all my Care, I shall every now and then have a saucy Rascal ride by reconnoitring  under my Windows. b) in the *second* person. 1852 Spencer Ess. After knowing him for years, you shall suddenly discover that your friends nose is slightly awry. c) in the *third* person. 1793 W. Roberts Looker-On, One man shall approve the same thing that another man shall condemn. 1870 M. Arnold St. Paul and Prot. It may well happen that a man who lives and thrives under a monarchy shall yet theoretically disapprove the principle of monarchy. Usage No. 10: in hypothetical, relative, and temporal clauses denoting a future contingency, the future auxiliary is shall for all persons alike. Where no ambiguity results, however, the present tense is commonly used for the future, and the perfect for the future-perfect. The use of shall, when not required for clearness, is, Grice grants, apt to sound pedantic by non Oxonians. Formerly sometimes used to express the sense of a present subjunctive. a) in hypothetical clauses. (shall I = if I shall) 1680 New Hampsh. Prov. Papers, If any Christian shall speak contempteously of the Holy Scriptures, such person  shall be punished. b) in relative clauses, where the antecedent denotes an as yet undetermined person or thing: 1811 Southey Let., The minister who shall first become a believer in that book  will obtain a higher reputation than ever statesman did before him. 1874 R. Congreve Ess. We extend our sympathies to the unborn generations which shall follow us on this earth; in temporal clauses: 1830 Laws of Cricket in Nyren Yng. Cricketers Tutor, If in striking, or at any other time, while the ball shall be in play, both his feet be over the popping-crease; in clauses expressing the purposed result of some action, or the object of a desire, intention, command, or request, often admitting of being replaced by may. In Old English, and occasionally as late as the seventeenth century, the present subjunctive was used exactly as in Latin. a) in final clause usually introduced by that. In this use modern idiom prefers should (22 a): see quot. 1611 below, and the appended remarks. 1879 M. Pattison Milton At the age of nine and twenty, Milton has already determined that this lifework shall be an epic poem; in relative clause: 1599 Shaks. Hen. V, ii. iv. 40: As Gardeners doe with Ordure hide those Roots that shall first spring. The choice between should and would follows the same as shall and will as future auxiliaries, except that should must sometimes be avoided on account of liability to be misinterpreted as = `ought to. In present usage, should occurs mainly in the first person. In the other persons it follows the use of shall. III Elliptical and quasi-elliptical uses. Usage No. 24: with ellipsis of verb of motion: = `shall go; he use is common in OHG. and OS., and in later HG., LG., and Du. In the Scandinavian languages it is also common, and instances occur in MSw.] 1596 Shaks. 1 Hen. IV, That with our small coniunction we should on. 1598 Shaks. Merry W. If the bottome were as deepe as hell, I shold down; n questions, what shall = `what shall (it) profit, `what good shall (I) do. Usage No. 26: with the sense `is due, `is proper, `is to be given or applied. Cf. G. soll. Usage No. 27: a) with ellipsis of active infinitive to be supplied from the context. 1892 Mrs. H. Ward David Grieve, `No, indeed, I havnt got all I want, said Lucy `I never shall, neither; if I shall. Now dial. 1390 Gower Conf. II. 96: Doun knelende on mi kne I take leve, and if I schal, I kisse hire. 1390 Gower Conf., II. 96: I wolde kisse hire eftsones if I scholde. 1871 Earle Philol. Engl. Tongue 203: The familiar proposal to carry a basket, I will if I shall, that is, I am willing if you will command me; I will if so required. 1886 W. Somerset Word-bk. Ill warn our Tomll do it vor ee, nif he shall-i.e. if you wish. c) with generalized ellipsis in proverbial phrase: needs must that needs shall = `he must whom fate compels. Usage No. 28: a) with ellipsis of do (not occurring in the context). 1477 Norton Ord. Alch., O King that shall These Workes! b) the place of the inf. is sometimes supplied by that or so placed at the beginning of the sentence. The construction may be regarded as an ellipsis of "do". It is distinct from the use (belonging to 27) in which so has the sense of `thus, `likewise, or `also. In the latter there is usually inversion, as so shall I. 1888 J. S. Winter Bootles Childr. iv: I should like to see her now shes grown up. `So you shall. Usage No. 29: with ellipsis of be or passive inf., or with so in place of this (where the preceding context has is, was, etc.). 1615 J. Chamberlain in Crt. And Times Jas.; He is not yet executed, nor I hear not when he shall. Surely he may not will that he be executed.

futurum intentionale: Surely intention has nothing to do with predictable truth. If Smith promises Jones a job – he intends that Jones get a job. Then the world explodes, so Jones does not get the job. Kant, Austin, or Grice, don’t care. A philosopher is not a scientist. He is into ‘conceptual matters,’ about what is to have a good intention, not whether the intention, in a future scenario, is realised or not. If they are interested in ‘tense,’ as Prior was as Grice was with his time-relative identity, it’s still because in the PRESENT, the emissor emits a future-tense utterance. The future figures more prominently than anything because in “Emissor communicates that p” there is the FUTURE ESSENTIAL. The emissor intends that his addressee in a time later than the present will do this or that. While Grice is always looking to cross the credibility/desirability divide, there is a feature that is difficult to cross in the bridge of asses. This is the shall vs. will. Grice is aware that ‘will,’ in the FIRST person, is not a matter of prediction. When Grice says “I will go to Harborne,” that’s not a prediction. He firmly contrasts it with “I shall go to Harborne” which is a perfect prediction in the indicative mode. “I will go to Harborne” is in the ‘futurum intentionale.’ Grice is also aware that in the SECOND and THIRD persons, ‘will’ reports something that the utterer must judge unpredictable. An utterance like “Thou wilt go to London” and “He will go to London” is in the ‘futurum indicativus.’ This is one nuance that Prichard forgets in the analysis of ‘willing’ that Grice eventually adopts. Prichard uses ‘will’ derivatively, and followed by a ‘that’-clause. Prichard quotes from the New-World, where the dialect is slightly different. For William James had said, “I will that the distant table slides over the floor toward me. And it does not.” Since James is using ‘will’ in the first person, the utterance is indeed NOT in the indicative, but the ‘intentional’ mode. In the case of the ‘communicatum,’ things get complicated, since U intends that A will believe that… In which case, U’s intention (and thus will) is directed towards the ‘will’ of his addressee, too, even if it is merely to adopt a ‘belief.’ So what would be the primary uses of the ‘will.’ In the first person, “I will go to Harborne” is in the futurum intentionale. It is used to report the utterer’s will. In the second and third person – “Thou will go to Harborne” and “He will go to Harborne,” the utterer uses the futurum indicativum and utters a statement which is predictable.  Since analytic philosophers specify the analysis in the third person (“U means that…”) one has to be careful. For ‘futurum intentionale’ we have ‘will’ in the first person, and ‘shall’ in the second and third persons. So for the first group, U means that he SHALL go. In the second group, U means that his addressee or a third party WILL go. Grice adopts a subscript variant, stick with ‘will,’ but add the mode afterwards: so will-ind. will be ‘futurum indicativum,’ and will-int. will be futurum intentionale. Grice distinguishes the ‘futurum imperativum.’ This may be seen as a sub-class of the ‘futurum intentionale,’ as applied to the second and third persons, to avoid the idea that one can issue a ‘self-command.’ Grice has a futurum imperativum, in Latin ending in -tō(te), used to request someone to do something, or if something else happens first. “Sī quid acciderit, scrībitō. If anything happens, write to me' (Cicero). ‘Ubi nōs lāverimus, lavātō.’ 'When*we* have finished washing, *you* get washed.’ (Terence). ‘Crūdam si edēs, in acētum intinguitō.’ ‘If you eat cabbage raw, dip it in vinegar.’ (Cato). ‘Rīdētō multum quī tē, Sextille, cinaedum dīxerit et digitum porrigitō medium.’ 'Laugh loudly at anyone who calls you camp, Sextillus, and stick up your middle finger at him.' (Martial).  In Latin, some verbs have only a futurum imperativum, e. g., scītō 'know', mementō 'remember'. In Latin, there is also a third person imperative also ending in -tō, plural -ntō exists. It is used in very formal contexts such as laws. ‘Iūsta imperia suntō, īsque cīvēs pārentō.’ 'Orders must be just, and citizens must obey them' (Cicero). Other ways of expressing a command or request are made with expressions such as cūrā ut 'take care to...', fac ut 'see to it that...' or cavē nē 'be careful that you don't...' Cūrā ut valeās. 'Make sure you keep well' (Cicero). Oddly, in Roman, the futurum indicativum can be used for a polite commands. ‘Pīliae salūtem dīcēs et Atticae.’  'Will you please give my regards to Pilia and Attica?' (Cicero. The OED has will, would. It is traced to Old English willan, pres.t. wille, willaþ, pa. t. wolde. Grice was especially interested to check Jamess and Prichards use of willing that, Prichards shall will and the will/shall distinction; the present tense will; transitive uses, with simple obj. or obj. clause; occas. intr. 1 trans. with simple obj.: desire, wish for, have a mind to, `want (something); sometimes implying also `intend, purpose. 1601 Shaks. (title) Twelfe Night, Or what you will. 1654 Whitlock Zootomia 44 Will what befalleth, and befall what will. 1734 tr. Rollins Anc. Hist. V. 31 He that can do what ever he will is in great danger of willing what he ought not. b intr. with well or ill, or trans. with sbs. of similar meaning (e.g. good, health), usually with dat. of person: Wish (or intend) well or ill (to some one), feel or cherish good-will or ill-will. Obs. (cf. will v.2 1 b). See also well-willing; to will well that: to be willing that. 1483 Caxton Gold. Leg. I wyl wel that thou say, and yf thou say ony good, thou shalt be pesybly herde. Usage No. 2: trans. with obj. clause (with vb. in pres. subj., or in periphrastic form with should), or acc. and inf.: Desire, wish; sometimes implying also `intend, purpose (that something be done or happen). 1548 Hutten Sum of Diuinitie K viij, God wylle all men to be saued; enoting expression (usually authoritative) of a wish or intention: Determine, decree, ordain, enjoin, give order (that something be done). 1528 Cromwell in Merriman Life and Lett. (1902) I. 320 His grace then wille that thellection of a new Dean shalbe emonges them of the colledge; spec. in a direction or instruction in ones will or testament; hence, to direct by will (that something be done). 1820 Giffords Compl. Engl. Lawyer. I do hereby will and direct that my executrix..do excuse and release the said sum of 100l. to him;  figurative usage. of an abstract thing (e.g. reason, law): Demands, requires. 1597 Shaks. 2 Hen. IV, Our Battaile is more full of Namess then yours Then Reason will, our hearts should be as good. Usage No. 4 transf. (from 2). Intends to express, means; affirms, maintains. 1602 Dolman La Primaud. Fr. Acad. Hee will that this authority should be for a principle of demonstration. 2 With dependent infinitive (normally without "to"); desire to, wish to, have a mind to (do something); often also implying intention. 1697 Ctess DAunoys Trav. I will not write to you often, because I will always have a stock of News to tell you, which..is pretty long in picking up. 1704 Locke Hum. Und.  The great Encomiasts of the Chineses, do all to a man agree and will convince us that the Sect of the Literati are Atheists. 6 In relation to anothers desire or requirement, or to an obligation of some kind: Am (is, are) disposed or willing to, consent to; †in early use sometimes = deign or condescend to.With the (rare and obs.) imper. use, as in quot. 1490, cf. b and the corresponding negative use in 12 b. 1921 Times Lit. Suppl. 10 Feb. 88/3 Literature thrives where people will read what they do not agree with, if it is good. b In 2nd person, interrog., or in a dependent clause after beg or the like, expressing a request (usually courteous; with emphasis, impatient). 1599 Shaks. Hen. V, ii. i. 47 Will you shogge off? 1605 1878 Hardy Ret. Native v. iii, O, O, O,..O, will you have done! Usage No. 7 Expressing voluntary action, or conscious intention directed to the doing of what is expressed by the principal verb (without temporal reference as in 11, and without emphasis as in 10): = choose to (choose v. B. 3 a). The proper word for this idea, which cannot be so precisely expressed by any other. 1685 Baxter Paraphr., When God will tell us we shall know. Usage No. 8 Expressing natural disposition to do something, and hence habitual action: Has the habit, or `a way, of --ing; is addicted or accustomed to --ing; habitually does; sometimes connoting `may be expected to (cf. 15). 1865 Ruskin Sesame, Men, by their nature, are prone to fight; they will fight for any cause, or for none; expressing potentiality, capacity, or sufficiency: Can, may, is able to, is capable of --ing; is (large) enough or sufficient to.†it will not be: it cannot be done or brought to pass; it is all in vain. So, †will it not be? 1833 N. Arnott Physics, The heart will beat after removal from the body. Usage No. 10 As a strengthening of sense 7, expressing determination, persistence, and the like (without temporal reference as in 11); purposes to, is determined to. 1539 Bible (Great) Isa. lxvi. 6, I heare ye voyce of the Lorde, that wyll rewarde, etc; recompence his enemyes; emphatically. Is fully determined to; insists on or persists in --ing: sometimes with mixture of sense 8. (In 1st pers. with implication of futurity, as a strengthening of sense 11 a. Also fig. = must inevitably, is sure to. 1892 E. Reeves Homeward Bound viii. 239, I have spent 6,000 francs to come here..and I will see it! c In phr. of ironical or critical force referring to anothers assertion or opinion. Now arch. exc. in will have it; 1591 Shaks. 1 Hen. VI, This is a Riddling Merchant for the nonce, He will be here, and yet he is not here. 1728 Chambers Cycl., Honey, Some naturalists will have honey to be of a different quality, according to the difference of the flowers..the bees suck it from. Also, as auxiliary of the future tense with implication (entailment rather than cancellable implicatum) of intention, thus distinguished from ‘shall,’ v. B. 8, where see note); in 1st person: sometimes in slightly stronger sense = intend to, mean to. 1600 Shaks. A.Y.L., To morrow will we be married. 1607 Shaks. Cor., Ile run away Till I am bigger, but then Ile fight. 1777 Clara Reeve Champion of Virtue, Never fear it..I will speak to Joseph about it. b In 2nd and 3rd pers., in questions or indirect statements. 1839 Lane Arab. Nts.,  I will cure thee without giving thee to drink any potion When King Yoonán heard his words, he..said.., How wilt thou do this? c will do (with omission of "I"): an expression of willingness to carry out a request. Cf. wilco. colloq. 1967 L. White Crimshaw Memorandum, `And find out where the bastard was `Will do, Jim said. 13 In 1st pers., expressing immediate intention: "I will" = `I am now going to, `I proceed at once to. 1885 Mrs. Alexander At Bay, Very well; I will wish you good-evening. b In 1st pers. pl., expressing a proposal: we will (†wule we) = `let us. 1798 Coleridge Nightingale 4 Come, we will rest on this old mossy bridge!, c figurative, as in It will rain, (in 3rd pers.) of a thing: Is ready to, is on the point of --ing. 1225 Ancr. R. A treou þet wule uallen, me underset hit mid on oðer treou. 14 In 2nd and 3rd pers., as auxiliary expressing mere futurity, forming (with pres. inf.) the future, and (with pf. inf.) the future pf. tense: corresponding to "shall" in the 1st pers. (see note s.v. shall v. B. 8). 1847 Tennyson Princess iii. 12 Rest, rest, on mothers breast, Father will come to thee soon. b As auxiliary of future substituted for the imper. in mild injunctions or requests. 1876 Ruskin St. Marks Rest. That they should use their own balances, weights, and measures; (not by any means false ones, you will please to observe). 15 As auxiliary of future expressing a contingent event, or a result to be expected, in a supposed case or under particular conditions (with the condition expressed by a conditional, temporal, or imper. clause, or otherwise implied). 1861 M. Pattison Ess.  The lover of the Elizabethan drama will readily recal many such allusions; b with pers.sSubjects (usually 1st pers. sing.), expressing a voluntary act or choice in a supposed case, or a conditional promise or undertaking: esp. in asseverations, e.g. I will die sooner than, I’ll be hanged if, etc.). 1898 H. S. Merriman Rodens Corner. But I will be hanged if I see what it all means, now; xpressing a determinate or necessary consequence (without the notion of futurity). 1887 Fowler Deductive Logic, From what has been said it will be seen that I do not agree with Mr. Mill. Mod. If, in a syllogism, the middle term be not distributed in either premiss, there will be no conclusion; ith the notion of futurity obscured or lost: = will prove or turn out to, will be found on inquiry to; may be supposed to, presumably does. Hence (chiefly Sc. and north. dial.) in estimates of amount, or in uncertain or approximate statements, the future becoming equivalent to a present with qualification: e.g. it will be = `I think it is or `it is about; what will that be? = `what do you think that is? 1584 Hornby Priory in Craven Gloss. Where on 40 Acres there will be xiij.s. iv.d. per acre yerely for rent. 1791 Grose Olio (1792) 106, I believe he will be an Irishman. 1791 Grose Olio. C. How far is it to Dumfries? W. It will be twenty miles. 1812 Brackenridge Views Louisiana, The agriculture of this territory will be very similar to that of Kentucky. 1876 Whitby Gloss. sThis word we have only once heard, and that will be twenty years ago. 16 Used where "shall" is now the normal auxiliary, chiefly in expressing mere futurity: since 17th c. almost exclusively in Scottish, Irish, provincial, or extra-British use (see shall. 1602 Shaks. Ham. I will win for him if I can: if not, Ile gaine nothing but my shame, and the odde hits. 1825 Scott in Lockhart Ballantyne-humbug. I expect we will have some good singing. 1875 E. H. Dering Sherborne. `Will I start, sir? asked the Irish groom. Usage No. 3 Elliptical and quasi-elliptical uses; n absol. use, or with ellipsis of obj. clause as in 2: in meaning corresponding to senses 5-7.if you will is sometimes used parenthetically to qualify a word or phrase: = `if you wish it to be so called, `if you choose or prefer to call it so. 1696 Whiston The. Earth. Gravity depends entirely on the constant and efficacious, and, if you will, the supernatural and miraculous Influence of Almighty God. 1876 Ruskin St. Marks Rest. Very savage! monstrous! if you will. b In parenthetic phr. if God will (†also will God, rarely God will), God willing: if it be the will of God, `D.V.In OE. Gode willi&asg.ende (will v.2) = L. Deo volente. 1716 Strype in Thoresbys Lett. Next week, God willing, I take my journey to my Rectory in Sussex; fig. Demands, requires (absol. or ellipt. use of 3 c). 1511 Reg. Privy Seal Scot. That na seculare personis have intrometting with thaim uther wais than law will; I will well: I assent, `I should think so indeed. (Cf. F. je veux bien.) Usage No. 18: with ellipsis of a vb. of motion. 1885 Bridges Eros and Psyche Aug. I will to thee oer the stream afloat. Usage No. 19: with ellipsis of active inf. to be supplied from the context. 1836 Dickens Sk. Boz, Steam Excurs., `Will you go on deck? `No, I will not. This was said with a most determined air. 1853 Dickens Bleak Ho. lii, I cant believe it. Its not that I dont or I wont. I cant! 1885 Mrs. Alexander Valeries Fate vi, `Do you know that all the people in the house will think it very shocking of me to walk with you?.. `The deuce they will!; With generalized ellipsis, esp. in proverbial saying (now usually as in quot. 1562, with will for would). 1639 J. Clarke Paroem. 237 He that may and will not, when he would he shall not. c With so or that substituted for the omitted inf. phr.: now usually placed at the beginning of the sentence. 1596 Shaks. Tam. Shr. Hor. I promist we would beare his charge of wooing Gremio. And so we wil. d Idiomatically used in a qualifying phr. with relative, equivalent to a phr. with indef. relative in -ever; often with a thing as subj., becoming a mere synonym of may: e.g. shout as loud as you will = `however loud you (choose to) shout; come what will = `whatever may come; be that as it will = `however that may be. 1732 Pope Mor. Ess. The ruling Passion, be it what it will, The ruling Passion conquers Reason still. 20 With ellipsis of pass. inf. A. 1774 Goldsm. Surv. Exp. Philos. The airs force is compounded of its swiftness and density, and as these are encreased, so will the force of the wind; in const. where the ellipsis may be either of an obj. clause or of an inf. a In a disjunctive qualifying clause or phr. usually parenthetic, as whether he will or no, will he or not, (with pron. omitted) will or no, (with or omitted) will he will he not, will he nill he (see VI. below and willy-nilly), etc.In quot. 1592 vaguely = `one way or another, `in any case. For the distinction between should and would, v. note s.v. shall; in a noun-clause expressing the object of desire, advice, or request, usually with a person as subj., implying voluntary action as the desired end: thus distinguished from should, which may be used when the persons will is not in view. Also (almost always after wish) with a thing as Subjects, in which case should can never be substituted because it would suggest the idea of command or compulsion instead of mere desire. Cf. shall; will; willest; willeth; wills; willed (wIld); also: willian, willi, wyll, wille, wil, will, willode, will, wyllede, wylled, willyd, ied, -it, -id, willed; wijld, wilde, wild, willid, -yd, wylled,willet, willed; willd(e, wild., OE. willian wk. vb. = German “willen.” f. will sb.1, 1 trans. to wish, desire; sometimes with implication of intention: = will. 1400 Lat. and Eng. Prov. He þt a lytul me 3euyth to me wyllyth optat longe lyffe. 1548 Udall, etc. Erasm. Par. Matt. v. 21-24 Who so euer hath gotten to hymselfe the charitie of the gospell, whyche wylleth wel to them that wylleth yll. 1581 A. Hall Iliad, By Mineruas helpe, who willes you all the ill she may. A. 1875 Tennyson Q. Mary i. iv, A great party in the state Wills me to wed her; To assert, affirm: = will v.1 B. 4. 1614 Selden Titles Hon. None of this excludes Vnction before, but only wils him the first annointed by the Pope. 2 a to direct by ones will or testament (that something be done, or something to be done); to dispose of by will; to bequeath or devise; to determine by the will; to attempt to cause, aim at effecting by exercise of will; to set the mind with conscious intention to the performance or occurrence of something; to choose or decide to do something, or that something shall be done or happen. Const. with simple obj., acc. and inf., simple inf. (now always with to), or obj. clause; also absol. or intr. (with as or so). Nearly coinciding in meaning with will v.1 7, but with more explicit reference to the mental process of volition. 1630 Prynne Anti-Armin. 119 He had onely a power, not to fall into sinne vnlesse he willed it. 1667 Milton P.L. So absolute she seems..that what she wills to do or say, Seems wisest. 1710 J. Clarke tr. Rohaults Nat. Philos. If I will to move my Arm, it is presently moved. 1712 Berkeley Pass. Obed. He that willeth the end, doth will the necessary means conducive to that end. 1837 Carlyle Fr. Rev. All shall be as God wills. 1880 Meredith Tragic Com. So great, heroical, giant-like, that what he wills must be. 1896 Housman Shropsh. Lad xxx, Others, I am not the first, Have willed more mischief than they durst; intr. to exercise the will; to perform the mental act of volition. 1594 Hooker Eccl. Pol. To will, is to bend our soules to the hauing or doing of that which they see to be good. 1830 Mackintosh Eth. Philos. Wks.. But what could induce such a being to will or to act? 1867 A. P. Forbes Explan. Is this infinitely powerful and intelligent Being free? wills He? loves He? c trans. To bring or get (into, out of, etc.) by exercise of will. 1850 L. Hunt Table-t. (1882) 184 Victims of opium have been known to be unable to will themselves out of the chair in which they were sitting. d To control (another person), or induce (another) to do something, by the mere exercise of ones will, as in hypnotism. 1882 Proc. Soc. Psych. Research I. The one to be `willed would go to the other end of the house, if desired, whilst we agreed upon the thing to be done. 1886 19th Cent. They are what is called `willed to do certain things desired by the ladies or gentlemen who have hold of them. 1897 A. Lang Dreams & Ghosts iii. 59 A young lady, who believed that she could play the `willing game successfully without touching the person `willed; to express or communicate ones will or wish with regard to something, with various shades of meaning, cf. will, v.1 3., specifically: a to enjoin, order; to decree, ordain, a) with personal obj., usually with inf. or clause. 1481 Cov. Leet Bk. 496 We desire and also will you that vnto oure seid seruaunt ye yeue your aid. 1547 Edw. VI in Rymer Foedera, We Wyll and Commaunde yowe to Procede in the seid Matters. 1568 Grafton Chron., Their sute was smally regarded, and shortly after they were willed to silence. 1588 Lambarde Eiren. If a man do lie in awaite to rob me, and (drawing his sword upon me) he willeth me to deliver my money. 1591 Shaks. 1 Hen. VI We doe no otherwise then wee are willd. 1596 Nashe Saffron Walden P 4, Vp he was had and.willed to deliuer vp his weapon. 1656 Hales Gold. Rem. The King in the Gospel, that made a Feast, and..willed his servants to go out to the high-ways side. 1799 Nelson in Nicolas Disp., Willing and requiring all Officers and men to obey you; 1565 Cooper Thesaurus s.v. Classicum, By sounde of trumpet to will scilence. 1612 Bacon Ess., Of Empire. It is common with Princes (saith Tacitus) to will contradictories. 1697 Dryden Æneis i. 112 Tis yours, O Queen! to will The Work, which Duty binds me to fulfil. 1877 Tennyson Harold vi. i, Get thou into thy cloister as the king Willd it.; to pray, request, entreat; = desire v. 6. 1454 Paston Lett. Suppl. As for the questyon that ye wylled me to aske my lord, I fond hym yet at no good leyser. 1564 Haward tr. Eutropius. The Romaines sent ambassadoures to him, to wyll him to cease from battayle. 1581 A. Hall Iliad, His errand done, as he was willde, he toke his flight from thence. 1631 [Mabbe] Celestina. Did I not will you I should not be wakened? 1690 Dryden Amphitryon i. i, He has sent me to will and require you to make a swinging long Night for him; fig. of a thing, to require, demand; also, to induce, persuade a person to do something. 1445 in Anglia. Constaunce willeth also that thou doo noughte with weyke corage. Cable and Baugh note that one important s. of prescriptions that now form part of all our grammars -- that governing the use of will and shall -- has its origin in this period. Previous to 1622 no grammar recognized any distinction between will and shall. In 1653 Wallis in his Grammatica Linguae Anglicanae states in Latin and for the benefit of Europeans that Subjectsive intention is expressed by will in the first person, by shall in the second and third, while simple factual indicative predictable futurity is expressed by shall in the first person, by will in the second and third. It is not until the second half of the eighteenth century that the use in questions and subordinate clauses is explicitly defined. In 1755 Johnson, in his Dictionary, states the rule for questions, and in 1765 William Ward, in his Grammar, draws up for the first time the full set of prescriptions that underlies, with individual variations, the rules found in later tracts. Wards pronouncements are not followed generally by other grammarians until Lindley Murray gives them greater currency in 1795. Since about 1825 they have often been repeated in grammars, v. Fries, The periphrastic future with will and shall. Will qua modal auxiliary never had an s. The absence of conjugation is a very old common Germanic phenomenon. OE 3rd person present indicative of willan (and of the preterite-present verbs) is not distinct from the 1st person present indicative. That dates back at least to CGmc, or further if one looks just as the forms and ignore tense and/or mood). Re: Prichard: "Prichard wills that he go to London. This is Prichards example, admired by Grice ("but I expect not pleasing to Maucaulays ears"). The -s is introduced to indicate a difference between the modal and main verb use (as in Prichard and Grice) of will. In fact, will, qua modal, has never been used with a to-infinitive. OE uses present-tense forms to refer to future events as well as willan and sculan. willan would give a volitional nuance; sculan, an obligational nuance. Its difficult to find an example of weorthan used to express the future, but that doesnt mean it didnt happen. In insensitive utterers, will has very little of volition about it, unless one follows Walliss observation for  for I will vs. I shall. Most probably use ll, or be going to for the future.

Get across – used by Grice in Causal: Surely the truth or falsity of Strawson having a beautiful handwriting has no bearing on the truth or falsity of his being hopeless at philosophy (“provided that is what I intended to get across.”). This is the Austinian in Grice. Austin suggested that Grice analysed or consult with Holdcroft for all ‘forms of indirect communication.’ Grice lists: mean, indicate, suggest, imply, insinuate, hint – ‘get across’.

grammar: Sometimes geography, sometimes botany – “Grammatica” the Romans never cared to translate. Although ‘literature’ is the cognate. – For some reasons, the Greeks were obsessed with the alphabet – It was a trivial ‘art’. Like ‘logic,’ and philosophy is NOT an art or ‘techne.’ A philosopher is not a technician – and hardly an artist like William Morris (his ‘arts and crafts’ is a joke since it translates in Latin to ‘ars et ars,’ and ‘techne kai techne’). The sad thing is that at MIT, as Grice knew, Chomsky is appointed professor of philosophy, and he mainly writes about ‘grammar’! Later, Chomsky tries to get more philosophical, but chooses the wrong paradigm – Cartesianism, the ghost in the machine, in Ryle’s parlance. Odly, Oxonians, who rarely go to grammar schools, see ‘grammar’ as a divinity, and talk of the logical grammar of a Ryleian agitation, say. It sounds high class because there is the irony that an Oxonian philosopher is surely not a common-or-garden grammarian, involved in the grammar of, say, “Die Deutsche Sprache.” The Oxonian is into the logical grammar. It is more of a ‘linguistic turn’ expression than the duller ‘conceptual analysis,’ or ‘linguistic philosophy.’ cf. logical form, and Russell, “grammar is a pretty good guide to logical form.” while philosophers would use grammar jocularly, Chomsky didnt. The problem, as Grice notes, is that Chomsky never tells us where grammar ends (“or begins for that matter.”) “Consider the P, karulising elatically.” When Carnap introduces the P, he talks syntax, not grammar. But philosophers always took semiotics more seriously than others. So Carnap is well aware of Morriss triad of the syntactics, the semantics, and the pragmatics. Philosophers always disliked grammar, because back in the days of Aelfric, philosophia was supposed to embrace dialectica and grammatica, and rhetorica. “It is all part of philosophy.” Truth-conditional semantics and implicata. Refs.: One source is an essay on ‘grammar’ in the H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

gricese: english, being English or the genius of the ordinary. H. P. Grice refers to “The English tongue.” A refusal to rise above the facts of ordinary life is characteristic of classical Eng. Phil.  from Ireland-born Berkeley to Scotland-born Hume, Scotland-born Reid, and very English Jeremy Bentham and New-World Phil. , whether in transcendentalism Emerson, Thoreau or in pragmatism from James to Rorty. But this orientation did not become truly explicit until after the linguistic turn carried out by Vienna-born Witters, translated by C. K. Ogden, very English Brighton-born Ryle, and especially J. L. Austin and his best companion at the Play Group, H. P. Grice, when it was radicalized and systematized under the name of a phrase Grice lauged at: “‘ordinary’-language philosophy.” This preponderant recourse to the ordinary seems inseparable from certain peculiar characteristics of the English Midlanders such as H. P. Grice, such as the gerund that often make it difficult if not impossible to translate. It is all the more important to emphasize this paradox because English Midlander philosopher, such as H. P. Grice, claims to be as simple as it is universal, and it established itself as an important philosophical language in the second half of the twentieth century, due mainly to the efforts of H. P. Grice. English, but especially Oxonian Phil.  has a specific relationship to ‘ordinary’ language (even though for Grice, “Greek and Latin were always more ordinary to me – and people who came to read Eng. at Oxford were laughed at!”), as well as to the requirements of everyday life, that is not limited to the theories of the Phil.  of language, in which an Eng. philosopher such as H. P. Grice appears as a pioneer. It rejects the artificial linguistic constructions of philosophical speculation that is, Met. and always prefers to return to its original home, as Witters puts it: the natural environment of everyday words Philosophical Investigations. Thus we can discern a continuity between the recourse to the ordinary in Scots Hume, Irish Berkeley, Scots Reid, and very English Jeremy Bentham and what will become in Irish London-born G. E. Moore and Witters after he started using English, at least orally and then J. L. Austin’s and H. P. Grice’s ‘ordinary’-language philosophy. This continuity can be seen in several areas. First, in the exploitation of all the resources of the language, which is considered as a source of information and is valid in itself. Second, in the attention given to the specificities—and even the defects, or ‘implicata,’ as Grice calls them —of the vernacular --  which become so many philosophical characteristics from which one can learn. Finally, in the affirmation of the naturalness of the distinctions made in and by ordinary language, seeking to challenge the superiority of the technical language of Philosophy —the former being the object of an agreement deeper than the latter. Then there’s The Variety of Modes of Action. The passive. There are several modes of agency, and these constitute both part of the genius of the language and a main source of its problems in tr.. Agency is a strange intersection of points of view that makes it possible to designate the person who is acting while at the same time concealing the actor behind the act—and thus locating agency in the passive subject itself v. AGENCY. A classic difficulty is illustrated by the following sentence from J. Stuart Mill’s To gauge the naturalness of the passive construction in English, it suffices to examine a couple of newspaper headlines. “Killer’s Car Found” On a retrouvé la voiture du tueur, “Kennedy Jr. Feared Dead.” On craint la mort du fils Kennedy; or the titles of a philosophical essay, “Epistemology Naturalized,” L’Épistémologie naturalisée; Tr.  J. Largeault as L’Épistémologie devenue naturelle; a famous article by Quine that was the origin of the naturalistic turn in American Phil.  and “Consciousness Explained” La conscience expliquée by Daniel Dennett. We might then better understand why this PASSIVE VOICE kind of construction—which seems so awkward in Fr.  compared with the active voice— is perceived by its Eng. users as a more direct and effective way of speaking. More generally, the ellipsis of the agent seems to be a tendency of Eng. so profound that one can maintain that the phenomenon Lucien Tesnière called diathèse récessive the loss of the agent has become a characteristic of the Eng. language itself, and not only of the passive. Thus, e. g. , a Fr.  reader irresistibly gains the impression that a reflexive pronoun is lacking in the following expressions. “This book reads well.” ce livre se lit agréablement. “His poems do not translate well.” ses poèmes se traduisent difficilement. “The door opens.” la porte s’ouvre. “The man will hang.” l’homme sera pendu. In reality, here again, Eng. simply does not need to mark by means of the reflexive pronoun se the presence of an active agent. Do, make, have Eng. has several terms to translate the single Fr.  word faire, which it can render by to do, to make, or to have, depending on the type of agency required by the context. Because of its attenuation of the meaning of action, its value as emphasis and repetition, the verb “to do” has become omnipresent in English, and it plays a particularly important role in philosophical texts. We can find a couple of examples of tr. problems in the Oxonian seminars by J. L. Austin. In Sense and Considerations on Representative Government: “I must not be understood to say that” p. To translate such a passive construction, Fr.  is forced to resort to the impersonal pronoun on and to put it in the position of an observer of the “I” je as if it were considered from the outside: On ne doit pas comprendre que je dis que p. But at the same time, the network of relations internal to the sentence is modified, and the meaning transformed. Necessity is no longer associated with the subject of the sentence and the author; it is made impersonal. Philosophical language also makes frequent use of the diverse characteristics of the passive. Here we can mention the crucial turning point in the history of linguistics represented by Chomsky’s discovery Syntactic Structures,  of the paradigm of the active/ passive relation, which proves the necessity of the transformational component in grammar. A passive utterance is not always a reversal of the active and only rarely describes an undergoing, as is shown by the example She was offered a bunch of flowers. In particular, language makes use of the fact that this kind of construction authorizes the ellipsis of the agent as is shown by the common expression Eng. spoken. For a philosopher, the passive is thus the privileged form of an action when its agent is unknown, indeterminate, unimportant, or, inversely, too obvious. Thus without making his prose too turgid, in Sense and Sensibilia Austin can use five passives in less than a page, and these can be translated in Fr.  only by on, an indeterminate subject defined as differentiated from moi. “It is clearly implied, that “Now this, at least if it is taken to mean The expression is here put forward We are given, as examples, familiar objects The expression is not further defined On sous-entend clairement que Quant à cela, du moins si on l’entend au sens de On avance ici l’expression On nous donne, comme exemples, des objets familiers On n’approfondit pas la définition de l’expression . . . 1 Langage, langue, parole: A virtual distinction. Contrary to what is too often believed, the Eng. language does not conflate under the term language what Fr.  distinguishes following Saussure with the terms langage, langue, and parole. In reality, Eng. also has a series of three terms whose semantic distribution makes possible exactly the same trichotomy as Fr. : First there’s Grice’s “tongue,”which serves to designate a specific language by opposition to another; speech, which refers more specifically to parole but which is often translated in Fr.  by discours; and language in the sense of faculté de langage. Nonetheless, Fr. ’s set of systematic distinctions can only remain fundamentally virtual in English, notably because the latter refuses to radically detach langue from parole. Thus in Chrestomathia, Bentham uses “tongue” (Bentham’s tongue – in Chrestomathia) and language interchangeably and sometimes uses language in the sense of langue: “Of all known languages the Grecian [Griceian] is assuredly, in its structure, the most plastic and most manageable. Bentham even uses speech and language as equivalents, since he speaks of parts of speech. But on the contrary, he sometimes emphasizes differences that he ignores here. And he proceeds exactly like Hume in his essay Of the Standard of Taste, where we find, e. g. , But it must also be allowed, that some part of the seeming harmony in morals may be accounted for from the very nature of language. The word, virtue, with its equivalent in every tongue, implies praise; as that of vice does blame. REFS.: Bentham, Jeremy. ChrestomathiEd.  by M. J. Smith and W. H. Burston. Oxford: Clarendon, . Hume, D. . Of the Standard of Taste. In Four Dissertations. London: Thoemmes Continuum, . First published in 175 Saussure, F. de. Course in General Linguistics. Ed.  by Bally and Sechehaye. Tr.  R. Harris. LaSalle, IL: Open Court, . First published in circulation among these forms. This formal continuity promotes a great methodological inventiveness through the interplay among the various grammatical entities that it enables.  The gerund: The form of -ing that is the most difficult to translate Eng. is a nominalizing language. Any verb can be nominalized, and this ability gives the Eng. philosophical language great creative power. “Nominalization,” as Grice calls it, is in fact a substantivization without substantivization: the verb is not substantivized in order to refer to action, to make it an object of discourse which is possible in any language, notably in philosophical Fr.  and G. , but rather to nominalize the verb while at the same time preserving its quality as a verb, and even to nominalize whole clauses. Fr.  can, of course, nominalize faire, toucher, and sentir le faire, le toucher, even le sentir, and one can do the same, in a still more systematic manner, in G. . However, these forms will not have the naturalness of the Eng. expressions: the making and unmaking the doing and undoing, the feeling, the feeling Byzantine, the meaning. Above all, in these languages it is hard to construct expressions parallel to, e. g. , the making of, the making use of, my doing wrongly, “my meaning this,” (SIGNIFICATUM, COMMUNICATUM), his feeling pain, etc., that is, mixtures of noun and verb having—and this is the grammatical characteristic of the gerund — the external distribution of a nominal expression and the internal distribution of a verbal expression. These forms are so common that they characterize, in addition to a large proportion of book titles e. g. , The Making of the Eng. Working Class, by E. P. Thomson; or, in Phil. , The Taming of Chance, or The taming of the true, by I. Hacking, the language of classical Eng. Phil. . The gerund functions as a sort of general equivalent or exchanger between grammatical forms. In that way, it not only makes the language dynamic by introducing into it a permanent temporal flux, but also helps create, in the language itself, a kind of indeterminacy in the way it is parsed, which the translator finds awkward when he understands the message without being able to retain its lightness. Thus, in A Treatise of Human Nature, Hume speaks, regarding the idea, of the manner of its being conceived, which a Fr.  translator might render as sa façon d’être conçue or perhaps, la façon dont il lui appartient d’être conçue, which is not quite the same thing. And we v. agency and the gerund connected in a language like that of Bentham, who minimizes the gaps between subject and object, verb and noun: much regret has been suggested at the thoughts of its never having yet been brought within the reach of the Eng. reader ChrestomathiTranslators often feel obliged to render the act expressed by a gerund by the expression le fait de, but this has a meaning almost contrary to the English. With its gerund, Eng. avoids the discourse of fact by retaining only the event and arguing only on that basis. The inevitable confusion suggested by Fr.  when it translates the Eng. gerund is all the more unfortunate in this case because it becomes impossible to distinguish when Eng. uses the fact or the case from when it uses the gerund. The importance of the event, along with the distinction between trial, case, and event, on the one hand and happening on the other, is Sensibilia, he has criticized the claim that we never perceive objects directly and is preparing to criticize its negation as well: I am not going to maintain that we ought to embrace the doctrine that we do perceive material things. Je ne vais pas soutenir que nous devons embrasser la doctrine selon laquelle nous percevons vraiment les choses matérielles. Finally, let us recall Austin’s first example of the performative, which plays simultaneously on the anaphoric value of do and on its sense of action, a duality that v.ms to be at the origin of the theory of the performative, I do take this woman to be my lawful wedded wife—as uttered in the course of the marriage ceremony Oui à savoir: je prends cette femme pour épouse’énoncé lors d’une cérémonie de mariage; How to Do Things with Words. On the other hand, whereas faire is colored by a causative sense, Eng. uses to make and to have—He made Mary open her bags il lui fit ouvrir sa valise; He had Mary pour him a drink il se fit verser un verre—with this difference: that make can indicate, as we v., coercion, whereas have presupposes that there is no resistance, a difference that Fr.  can only leave implicit or explain by awkward periphrases. Twentieth-century Eng. philosophers from Austin to Geach and Anscombe have examined these differences and their philosophical implications very closely. Thus, in A Plea for Excuses, Austin emphasizes the elusive meaning of the expression doing something, and the correlative difficulty of determining the limits of the concept of action—Is to sneeze to do an action? There is indeed a vague and comforting idea that doing an action must come down to the making of physical movements. Further, we need to ask what is the detail of the complicated internal machinery we use in acting. Philosophical Papers No matter how partial they may be, these opening remarks show that there is a specific, intimate relation between ordinary language and philosophical language in English language Phil. . This enables us to better understand why the most Oxonian philosophers are so comfortable resorting to idiomatic expressions cf. H. Putnam and even to clearly popular usage: “Meanings ain’t in the head.” It ain’t necessarily so.As for the title of Manx-ancestry Quine’s famous book From a Logical Point of View, which at first seems austere, it is taken from a calypso song: “From a logical point of view, Always marry women uglier than you. The Operator -ing: Properties and Antimetaphysical Consequences -ing: A multifunctional operator Although grammarians think it important to distinguish among the forms of -ing—present participles, adjectives, the progressive, and the gerund—what strikes the reader of scientific and philosophical texts is first of all the free in Phil. , You are v.ing something Austin, Sense and Sensibilia, regarding a stick in water; I really am perceiving the familiar objects Ayer, Foundations of Empirical Knowledge. The passage to the form be + verb + -ing indicates, then, not the progressiveness of the action but rather the transition into the metalanguage peculiar to the philosophical description of phenomena of perception. The sole exception is, curiously, to know, which is practically never used in the progressive: even if we explore the philosophical and epistemological literature, we do not find “I am knowing” or he was knowing, as if knowledge could not be conceived as a process. In English, there is a great variety of what are customarily called aspects, through which the status of the action is marked and differentiated in a more systematic way than in Fr.  or G. , once again because of the -ing ending: he is working / he works / he worked / he has been working. Unlike what happens in Slavic languages, aspect is marked at the outset not by a duality of verbal forms but instead by the use of the verb to be with a verb ending in -ing imperfect or progressive, by opposition to the simple present or past perfect. Moreover, Grice mixes several aspects in a single expression: iterativity, progressivity, completion, as in it cannot fail to have been noticed Austin, How to Do Things. These are nuances, or implicate, as Labov and then Pinker recently observed, that are not peculiar to classical or written Eng. but also exist in certain vernaculars that appear to be familiar or allegedly ungrammatical. The vernacular seems particularly sophisticated on this point, distinguishing “he be working” from “he working” —that is, between having a regular job and being engaged in working at a particular moment, standard usage being limited to “he is working” Pinker, Language Instinct. Whether or not the notion of aspect is used, it seems clear that in Eng. there is a particularly subtle distinction between the different degrees of completion, of the iterativity or development of an action, that leads Oxonian philosophers to pay more attention to these questions and even to surprising inventions, such as that of ‘implicatum,’ or ‘visum,’ or ‘disimplicatum.’ The linguistic dissolution of the idea of substance  Fictive entities Thus the verb + -ing operation simply gives the verb the temporary status of a noun while at the same time preserving some of its syntactic and semantic properties as a verb, that is, by avoiding substantivization. It is no accident that the substantiality of the I think asserted by Descartes was opposed by virtually all the Eng. philosophers of the seventeenth century. If a personal identity can be constituted by the making our distant perceptions influence each other, and by giving us a present concern for our past or future pains or pleasures Hume, Treatise of Human Nature, it does not require positing a substance: the substantivization of making and giving meets the need. We can also consider the way in which Russell Analysis of Matter, ch.27 makes his reader understand far more easily than does Bachelard, and without having to resort to the category of an epistemological obstacle, that one can perfectly well posit an atom as a series of events without according it the status of a substance. crucial in discussions of probability. The very definition of probability with which Bayes operates in An Essay towards Solving a Problem, the first great treatise on subjective probability, is based on this status of the happening, the event conceived not in terms of its realization or accomplishment but in terms of its expectation: The probability of any event is the ratio between the value at which an expectation depending on the happening of the event ought to be computed, and the value of the thing expected upon its happening.  The progressive: Tense and aspect If we now pass from the gerund to the progressive, another construction that uses -ing, a new kind of problem appears: that of the aspect and temporality of actions. An interesting case of tr. difficulty is, e. g. , the one posed by Austin precisely when he attempts, in his presentation of performatives, to distinguish between the sentence and the act of saying it, between statement and utterance: there are utterances, such as the uttering of the sentence is, or is part of, the doing of an action How to Do Things. The tr. difficulty here is caused by the combination in the construction in -ing of the syntactical flexibility of the gerund and a progressive meaning. Does the -ing construction indicate the act, or the progressiveness of the act? Similarly, it is hard to choose to translate “On Referring” P. F. Strawson as De la référence rather than as De l’action de référer. Should one translate On Denoting Russell as De la dénotation the usual tr. or as Du dénoter? The progressive in the strict sense—be + verb + -ing— indicates an action at a specific moment, when it has already begun but is not yet finished. A little farther on, Austin allows us to gauge the ease of Eng. in the whole of these operations. “To utter the sentence is not to describe my doing of what I should be said in so uttering to be doing. The Fr.  tr. gives, correctly: Énoncer la phrase, ce n’est pas décrire ce qu’il faut bien reconnaître que je suis en train de faire en parlant ainsi, but this remains unsatisfying at best, because of the awkwardness of en train de. Moreover, in many cases, en train de is simply not suitable insofar as the -ing does not indicate duration: e. g. , in At last I am v.ing . It is interesting to examine from this point of view the famous category of verbs of perception, verbum percipiendi. It is remarkable that these verbs v., hear can be in some cases used with the construction be + verb + -ing, since it is generally said even in grammar books that they can be used only in the present or simple past and not in the progressive. This rule probably is thought to be connected with something like the immediacy of perception, and it can be compared with the fact that the verbs to know and to understand are also almost always in the present or the simple past, as if the operations of the understanding could not be presented in the progressive form and were by definition instantaneous; or as if, on the contrary, they transcended the course of time. In reality, there are counterexamples. “I don’t know if I’m understanding you correctly”; You are hearing voices; and often Oxonian Phil. , which makes their tr. particularly indigestible, especially in Fr. , where -ismes gives a very Scholastic feel to the classifications translated. In addition to the famous term realism, which has been the object of so many contradictory definitions and so many debates over past decades that it has been almost emptied of meaning, we may mention some common but particularly obscure for anyone not familiar with the theoretical context terms: “cognitivism,” noncognitivism, coherentism, eliminativism, consequentialism, connectionism, etSuch terms in which moral Phil.  is particularly fertile are in general transposed into Fr.  without change in a sort of new, international philosophical language that has almost forgone tr.. More generally, in Eng. as in G. , words can be composed by joining two other words far more easily than in Fr. —without specifying the logical connections between the terms: toothbrush, pickpocket, lowlife, knownothing; or, for more philosophical terms: aspect-blind, language-dependent, rule-following, meaning-holism, observer-relative, which are translatable, of course, but not without considerable awkwardness.  Oxonian philosophese.  Oxonian Phil.  seems to establish a language that is stylistically neutral and appears to be transparently translatable. Certain specific problems—the tr. of compound words and constructions that are more flexible in Eng. and omnipresent in current philosophical discourse, such as the thesis that la thèse selon laquelle, the question whether la question de savoir si, and my saying that le fait que je dise que—make Fr.  tr.s of contemporary Eng. philosophical texts very awkward, even when the author writes in a neutral, commonplace style. Instead, these difficulties, along with the ease of construction peculiar to English, tend to encourage non-Oxonian analytical philosophers to write directly in Gricese, following the example of many of their European colleagues, or else to make use of a technical vernacular we have noted the -isms and compounds that is frequently heavy going and not very inventive when transRomang terms which are usually transliterated. This situation is certainly attributable to the paradoxical character of Gricese, which established itself as a philosophical language in the second half of the twentieth century: it is a language that is apparently simple and accessible and that thus claims a kind of universality but that is structured, both linguistically and philosophically, around major stumbling blocks to do, -ing, etthat often make it untranslatable. It is paradoxically this untranslatability, and not its pseudo-transparency, that plays a crucial role in the process of universalization. . IThe Austinian Paradigm: Ordinary Language and Phil.  The proximity of ordinary language and philosophical language, which is rooted in classical English-language Phil. , was theorized in the twentieth century by Austin and can be summed up in the expression “‘ordinary’-language philosophy”. Ordinary language Phil.  is interested This sort of overall preeminence in Eng. of the verbal and the subjective over the nominal and the objective is clear in the difference in the logic that governs the discourse of affectivity in Fr.  and in English. How would something that one is correspond to something that one has, as in the case of fear in Fr.  avoir peur? It follows that a Fr. man—who takes it for granted that fear is something that one feels or senses—cannot feel at home with the difference that Eng. naturally makes between something that has no objective correlative because it concerns only feeling like fear; and what is available to sensation, implying that what is felt through it has the status of an object. Thus in Eng. something is immediately grasped that in Fr.  v.ms a strange paradox, viz. that passion, as Bentham notes in Deontology, is a fictive entity. Thus what sounds in Fr.  like a nominalist provocation is implicated in the folds of the Eng. language. A symbolic theory of affectivity is thus more easily undertaken in Eng. than in Fr. , and if an ontological conception of affectivity had to be formulated in English, symmetrical difficulties would be encountered.  Reversible derivations Another particularity of English, which is not without consequences in Phil. , is that its poverty from the point of view of inflectional morphology is compensated for by the freedom and facility it offers for the construction of all sorts of derivatives. Nominal derivatives based on adjectives and using suffixes such as -ity, -hood, -ness, -y. The resulting compounds are very difficult to differentiate in Fr.  and to translate in general, which has led, in contemporary Fr.  tr.s, to various incoherent makeshifts. To list the most common stumbling blocks: privacy privé-ité, innerness intériorité, not in the same sense as interiority, vagueness caractère vague, goodness bonté, in the sense of caractère bon, rightness  justesse, “sameness,” similarité, in the sense of mêmeté, ordinariness, “appropriateness,” caractère ordinaire, approprié, unaccountability caractère de ce dont il est impossible de rendre compte. Adjectival derivatives based on nouns, using numerous suffixes: -ful, -ous, -y, -ic, -ish, -al e.g., meaningful, realistic, holistic, attitudinal, behavioral. Verbal derivatives based on nouns or adjectives, with the suffixes -ize, -ify, -ate naturalize, mentalize, falsify, and even without suffixes when possible e.g., the title of an article “How Not to Russell Carnap’s Aufbau,” i.e., how not to Russell Carnap’s Aufbau. d. Polycategorial derivatives based on verbs, using suffixes such as -able, -er, -age, -ismrefutable, truthmaker. The reversibility of these nominalizations and verbalizations has the essential result of preventing the reification of qualities or acts. The latter is more difficult to avoid in Fr.  and G. , where nominalization hardens and freezes notions compare intériorité and innerness, which designates more a quality, or even, paradoxically, an effect, than an entity or a domain. But this kind of ease in making compounds has its flip side: the proliferation of -isms in liberties with the natural uses of the language. The philosophers ask, e. g. , how they can know that there is a real object there, but the question How do I know? can be asked in ordinary language only in certain contexts, that is, where it is always possible, at least in theory, to eliminate doubt. The doubt or question But is it a real one? has always must have a special basis, there must be some reason for suggesting that it isn’t real, in the sense of some specific way in which it is suggested that this experience or item may be phoney. The wile of the metaphysician consists in asking Is it a real table? a kind of object which has no obvious way of being phoney and not specifying or limiting what may be wrong with it, so that I feel at a loss how to prove it is a real one. It is the use of the word real in this manner that leads us on to the supposition that real has a single meaning the real world, material objects, and that a highly profound and puzzling one. Austin, Philosophical Papers This analysis of real is taken up again in Sense and Sensibilia, where Austin criticizes the notion of a sense datum and also a certain way of raising problems supposedly on the basis of common opinion e. g. , the common opinion that we really perceive things—but in reality on the basis of a pure construction. To state the case in this way, Austin says, is simply to soften up the plain man’s alleged views for the subsequent treatment; it is preparing the way for, by practically attributing to him, the so-called philosophers’ view. Phil. ’s frequent recourse to the ordinary is characterized by a certain condescension toward the common man. The error or deception consists in arguing the philosopher’s position against the ordinary position, because if the in what we should say when. It is, in other words, a Phil.  of language, but on the condition that we never forget that we are looking not merely at words or ‘meanings,’ whatever they may be but also at the realities we use the words to talk about, as Austin emphasizes A Plea for Excuses, in Philosophical Papers. During the twentieth century or more precisely, between the 1940s and the s, there was a division of the paradigms of the Phil.  of language between the logical clarification of ordinary language, on the one hand, and the immanent examination of ordinary language, on the other. The question of ordinary language and the type of treatment that it should be given—a normative clarification or an internal examination—is present in and even constitutive of the legacy of logical positivism. Wittgenstein’s work testifies to this through the movement that it manifests and performs, from the first task of the Phil.  of language the creation of an ideal or formal language to clarify everyday language to the second the concern to examine the multiplicity of ordinary language’s uses. The break thus accomplished is such that one can only agree with Rorty’s statement in his preface to The Linguistic Turn that the only difference between Ideal Language Philosophers and Ordinary Language Philosophers is a disagreement about which language is ideal. In the renunciation of the idea of an ideal language, or a norm outside language, there is a radical change in perspective that consists in abandoning the idea of something beyond language: an idea that is omnipresent in the whole philosophical tradition, and even in current analytical Phil. . Critique of language and Phil.  More generally, Austin criticizes traditional Phil.  for its perverse use of ordinary language. He constantly denounces Phil. ’s abuse of ordinary language—not so much that it forgets it, but rather that it exploits it by taking 2 A defect in the Eng. language? Between according to Bentham Eng. philosophers are not very inclined toward etymology—no doubt because it is often less traceable than it is in G.  or even in Fr.  and discourages a certain kind of commentary. There are, however, certain exceptions, like Jeremy Bentham’s analysis of the words “in,” “or,” “between,” “and,” etc., -- cf. Grice on “to” and “or” – “Does it make sense to speak of the ‘sense’ of ‘to’?” -- through which Eng. constructs the kinds of space that belong to a very specific topiLet us take the case of between, which Fr.  can render only by the word entre. Both the semantics and the etymology of entre imply the number three in Fr. , since what is entre intervenes as a third term between two others which it separates or brings closer in Lat., in-ter; in Fr., en tiers; as a third. This is not the case in English, which constructs between in accord with the number two in conformity with the etymology of this word, by tween, in pairs, to the point that it can imagine an ordering, even when it involves three or more classes, only in the binary mode: comon between three? relation between three?—the hue of selfcontradictoriness presents itself on the very face of the phrase. By one of the words in it, the number of objects is asserted to be three: by another, it is asserted to be no more than two. To the use thus exclusively made of the word between, what could have given rise, but a sort of general, howsoever indistinct, perception, that it is only one to one that objects can, in any continued manner, be commodiously and effectually compared. The Eng. language labours under a defect, which, when it is compared in this particular with other European langues, may perhaps be found peculiar to it. By the derivation, and thence by the inexcludible import, of the word between i.e., by twain, the number of the objects, to which this operation is represented as capable of being applied, is confined to two. By the Roman inter—by its Fr.  derivation entre—no such limitation v.ms to be expressed. Chrestomathia REFS.: Bentham, Jeremy. ChrestomathiEd.  by M. J. Smith and W. H. Burston. Oxford: Clarendon, To my mind, experience proves amply that we do come to an agreement on what we should say when such and such a thing, though I grant you it is often long and difficult. I should add that too often this is what is missing in Phil. : a preliminary datum on which one might agree at the outset. We do not claim in this way to discover all the truth that exists regarding everything. We discover simply the facts that those who have been using our language for centuries have taken the trouble to notice. Performatif-Constatif Austinian agreement is possible for two reasons:  Ordinary language cannot claim to have the last word. Only remember, it is the first word Philosophical Papers. The exploration of language is also an exploration of the inherited experience and acumen of many generations of men ibid..  Ordinary language is a rich treasury of differences and embodies all the distinctions men have found worth drawing, and the connections they have found worth marking, in the lifetimes of many generations. These are certainly more subtle and solid than any that you or I are likely to think up in our arm-chairs of an afternoon ibid.. It is this ability to indicate differences that makes language a common instrument adequate for speaking things in the world. Who is we? Cavell’s question It is clear that analytical Phil. , especially as it has developed in the United States since the 1940s, has moved away from the Austinian paradigm and has at the same time abandoned a certain kind of philosophical writing and linguistic subtlety. But that only makes all the more powerful and surprising the return to Austin advocated by Stanley Cavell and the new sense of ordinary language Phil.  that is emerging in his work and in contemporary American Phil. . What right do we have to refer to our uses? And who is this we so crucial for Austin that it constantly recurs in his work? All we have, as we have said, is what we say and our linguistic agreements. We determine the meaning of a given word by its uses, and for Austin, it is nonsensical to ask the question of meaning for instance, in a general way or looking for an entity; v. NONSENSE. The quest for agreement is founded on something quite different from signification or the determination of the common meaning. The agreement Austin is talking about has nothing to do with an intersubjective consensus; it is not founded on a convention or on actual agreements. It is an agreement that is as objective as possible and that bears as much on language as on reality. But what is the precise nature of this agreement? Where does it come from, and why should so much importance be accorded to it? That is the question Cavell asks, first in Must We Mean What We Say? and then in The Claim of Reason: what is it that allows Austin and Witters to say what they say about what we say? A claim is certainly involved here. That is what Witters means by our agreement in judgments, and in language it is based only on itself, on the latter exists, it is not on the same level. The philosopher introduces into the opinion of the common man particular entities, in order then to reject, amend, or explain it. The method of ordinary language: Be your size. Small Men. Austin’s immanent method comes down to examining our ordinary use of ordinary words that have been confiscated by Phil. , such as ‘true’ and ‘real,’ in order to raise the question of truth: Fact that is a phrase designed for use in situations where the distinction between a true statement and the state of affairs about which it is a truth is neglected; as it often is with advantage in ordinary life, though seldom in Phil. . So speaking about the fact that is a compendious way of speaking about a situation involving both words and world. Philosophical Papers We can, of course, maintain along with a whole trend in analytical Phil.  from Frege to Quine that these are considerations too small and too trivial from which to draw any conclusions at all. But it is this notion of fact that Austin relies on to determine the nature of truth and thus to indicate the pertinence of ordinary language as a relationship to the world. This is the nature of Austin’s approach: the foot of the letter is the foot of the ladder ibid.. For Austin, ordinary words are part of the world: we use words, and what makes words useful objects is their complexity, their refinement as tools ibid.: We use words to inform ourselves about the things we talk about when we use these words. Or, if that v.ms too naïve: we use words as a way of better understanding the situation in which we find ourselves led to make use of words. What makes this claim possible is the proximity of dimension, of size, between words and ordinary objects. Thus philosophers should, instead of asking whether truth is a substance, a quality, or a relation, take something more nearly their own size to strain at ibid.. The Fr.  translators render size by mesure, which v.ms excessively theoretical; the reference is to size in the material, ordinary sense. One cannot know everything, so why not try something else? Advantages of slowness and cooperation. Be your size. Small Men. Conversation cited by Urmson in A Symposium Austin emphasizes that this technique of examining words which he ended up calling linguistic phenomenology (and Grice linguistic botany) is not new and that it has existed since Socrates, producing its slow successes. But Grice is the first to make a systematic application of such a method, which is based, on the one hand, on the manageability and familiarity of the objects concerned and, on the other hand, on the common agreement at which it arrives in each of its stages. The problem is how to agree on a starting point, that is, on a given. This given or datum, for Grice, is Gricese, not as a corpus consisting of utterances or words, but as the site of agreement about what we should say when. Austin regards language as an empirical datum or experimental dat -- Bayes, T. . An Essay towards Solving a Problem in the Doctrine of Chances, with Richard Price’s Foreword and Discussion. In Facsimiles of Two Papers by Bayes. : Hafner, . First published in 176 Bentham, Jeremy. ChrestomathiEd.  by M. J. Smith and W. H. Burston. Oxford: Clarendon, . . Deontology. Ed.  by Goldworth. Oxford: Clarendon, . . Essay on Language. In The Works of Jeremy Bentham, ed.  by J. Bowring. Edinburgh: W. Tait, 18384 Berkeley, George. Of Infinities. In vol. 2 of The Works, ed.  by Luce and T. E. Jessop, 4081 London: Nelson, 19485 Reprint, : Kraus, . . A Treatise concerning the Principles of Human Knowledge. Ed.  by J. Dancy. Oxford: Oxford , . Cavell, Stanley. The Claim of Reason. : Oxford , . . In Quest of the Ordinary. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, . . Must We Mean What We Say? Cambridge: Cambridge , . . This New Yet Unapproachable AmericAlbuquerque: Living Batch Press, . Chomsky, Noam. Syntactic Structures. The Hague: Mouton, . Emerson, Ralph Waldo. Essays, First and Second Series. : Library of America, . Hacking, Jan. Why Does Language Matter to Phil. ? Cambridge: Cambridge , . Hume, D. . Dialogues concerning Natural Religion. Ed.  by D. Coleman. Cambridge: Cambridge , . . Essays, Moral, Political and Literary Ed.  by E. F. Miller. Indianapolis, IN: Liberty Classics, . . A Treatise of Human Nature. Ed.  by L. Selby-Bigge. Oxford: Oxford . 197 Laugier, SandrDu réel à l’ordinaire. : Vrin, . . Recommencer la philosophie. : Presses Universitaires de France, . Locke, J.. An Essay concerning Human Understanding. Oxford: Oxford , . Mill, J. Stuart. Considerations on Representative Government. In Essays on Pol. and Society, vol. 19 of Collected Works, ed.  by J. M. Robson. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, . . Essays on Ethics, Religion and Society. Vol. 10 of Collected Works, ed.  by J. M. Robson. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, . . A System of Logic Ratiocinative and Inductive. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, . Nedeljkovic, Maryvonne. D.  Hume, approche phénoménologique de l’action et théorie linguistique. : Presses Universitaires de France, . Pinker, Steven. The Language Instinct: The New Science of Language and Mind. London: Penguin, . Putnam, Hilary. Mind, Language and Reality. Vol. 2 of Philosophical Papers. Cambridge: Cambridge , . . Realism with a Human Face. Ed.  by J. Conant.  , . Quine, Willard V. From a Logical Point of View.  , 195 . Word and Object. , . Ricœur, Paul. Memory, History, Forgetting. Tr.  K. Blamey and D. Pellauer. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, . Rorty, Richard, ed. The Linguistic Turn. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, . First published . Russell, Bertrand. The Analysis of Matter. London: Allen and Unwin, 195 . An Inquiry into Meaning and Truth. : Routledge, . First published in 1950. Tesnière, Lucien. Éléments de syntaxe structural. : Klincksieck, . Urmson, J. O., W.V.O. Quine, and S. Hampshire. A Symposium on Austin’s Method. In Symposium on J. L. Austin, ed.  by K. T. Fann. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, . Wittgenstein, Ludwig. The Blue and the Brown Books. Ed.  by R. Rhees. Oxford: Blackwell, . First published in 195 . Philosophical Investigations. Tr.  G.E.M. Anscombe. Oxford: Blackwell, 195 we, as Cavell says in a passage that illustrates many of the difficulties of tr. we have discussed up to this point: We learn and teach words in certain contexts, and then we are expected, and expect others, to be able to project them into further contexts. Nothing ensures that this projection will take place in particular, not the grasping of universals nor the grasping of books of rules, just as nothing ensures that we will make, and understand, the same projections. That we do, on the whole, is a matter of our sharing routes of interest and feeling, modes of response, senses of humor and ‑of significance and of fulfillment, of what is outrageous, of what is similar to what else, what a rebuke, what forgiveness, of when an utterance is an assertion, when an appeal, when an explanation—all the whirl of organism Witterscalls forms of life. Human speech and activity, sanity and community, rest upon nothing more, but nothing less, than this. It is a vision as simple as it is and because it is  terrifying. Must We Mean What We Say? The fact that our ordinary language is based only on itself is not only a reason for concern regarding the validity of what we do and say, but also the revelation of a truth about ourselves that we do not always want to recognize: the fact that I am the only possible source of such a validity. That is a new understanding of the fact that language is our form of life, precisely its ordinary form. Cavell’s originality lies in his reinvention of the nature of ordinary language in American thought and in the connection he establishes—notably through his reference to Emerson and Thoreau, American thinkers of the ordinary—between this nature of language and human nature, finitude. It is also in this sense that the question of linguistic agreements reformulates that of the ordinary human condition and that the acceptance of the latter goes hand in hand with the recognition of the former. In Cavell’s Americanization of ordinary language Phil.  there thus emerges a radical form of the return to the ordinary. But isn’t this ordinary, e. g. , that of Emerson in his Essays, precisely the one that the whole of Eng. Phil.  has been trying to find, or rather to feel or taste, since its origins? Thus we can compare the writing of Emerson or James, in texts like Experience or Essays in Radical Empiricism, with that of the British empiricists when they discuss experience, the given, and the sensible. This is no doubt one of the principal dimensions of philosophical writing in English: always to make the meaning more available to the senses. J.-Pierre Cléro Sandra Laugier REFS.: Austin, J. L. How to Do Things with Words. Oxford: Clarendon, . . Performatif-Constatif. In La philosophie analytique, ed.  by J. Wahl and L. Beck. : Editions du Minuit, . Tr. in Performative-Constative. In Phil.  and Ordinary Language, ed.  by E. Caton. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, . . Philosophical Papers. Ed.  by J. O. Urmson and G. J. Warnock. Oxford: Clarendon, . . Sense and SensibiliOxford: Clarendon, . Ayer, J. The Foundations of Empirical Knowledge. London: Macmillan, 1940. ENTREPRENEUR 265 form the basis of the kingdom by means of calculated plans; to the legal domain: someone who contravenes the hierarchical order of the professions and subverts their rules; finally, to the economic domain: someone who agrees, on the basis of a prior contract an established price to execute a project collection of taxes, supply of an army, a merchant expedition, construction, production, transaction, assuming the hazards related to exchange and time. This last usage corresponds to practices that became more and more socially prominent starting in the sixteenth century. Let us focus on the term in economics. The engagement of the entrepreneur in his project may be understood in various ways, and the noun entrepreneur translated in various ways into English: by contractor if the stress is placed on the engagement with regard to the client to execute the task according to conditions negotiated in advance a certain time, a fixed price, firm price, tenant farming; by undertaker now rare in this sense when we focus on the engagement in the activity, taking charge of the project, its practical realization, the setting in motion of the transaction; and by adventurer, enterpriser, and projector, to emphasize the risks related to speculation. At the end of the eighteenth century, the Fr.  word entreprise acquired the new meaning of an industrial establishment. Entrepreneur accordingly acquired the sense of the head or direction of a business of production superintendent, employer, manager. In France, at the beginning of the eighteenth century, the noun entrepreneur had strong political connotations, in particular in the abundant pamphlets containing mazarinades denouncing the entrepreneurs of tax farming. The economist Pierre de Boisguilbert wrote the Factum de la France, the largest trial ever conducted by pen against the big financiers, entrepreneurs of the wealth of the kingdom, who take advantage of its good administration its political economy in the name of the entrepreneurs of commerce and industry, who contribute to the increase in its wealth. Boisguilbert failed in his project of reforming the tax farm, or tax business, and it was left to a clever financier, Richard Cantillon, to create the economic concept of the entrepreneur. Chance in Business: Risk and Uncertainty There is no trace of Boisguilbert’s moral indignation in Cantillon’s Essai sur la nature du commerce en générale Essay on the nature of commerce in general. Having shown that all the classes and all the men of a State live or acquire wealth at the expense of the owners of the land bk. 1, ch.12, he suggests that the circulation and barter of goods and merchandise, like their production, are conducted in Europe by entrepreneurs and haphazardly bk. 1, of ch.1 He then describes in detail what composes the uncertain aspect of the action of an entrepreneur, in which he acts according to his ideas and without being able to predict, in which he conceives and executes his plans surrounded by the hazard of events. The uncertainty related to business profits turns especially on the fact that it is dependent on the forms of consumption of the owners, the only members of society who are independent—naturally independent, Cantillon specified. Entrepreneurs are those who are capable of breaking ÉNONCÉ Énoncé, from the Roman enuntiare to express, divulge; from ex out and nuntiare to make known; a nuntius is a messenger, a nuncio, ranges over the same type of entity as do proposition and phrase: it is a basic unit of syntax, the relevant question being whether or not it is the bearer of truth values. An examination of the differences among these entities, and the networks they constitute in different languages especially in English: sentence, statement, utterance, appears under PROPOSITION. V. also DICTUM and LOGOS, both of which may be acceptably Tr.  énoncé. Cf. PRINCIPLE, SACHVERHALT, TRUTH, WORD especially WORD, Box  The essential feature of an énoncé is that it is considered to be a singular occurrence and thus is paired with its énonciation: v. SPEECH ACT; cf. ENGLISH, LANGUAGE, SENSE, SIGN, SIGNIFIER/SIGNIFIED, WITTICISM. v.  DISCOURSE ENTREPRENEUR FR.  ENG. adventurer, contractor, employer, enterpriser, entrepreneur, manager, projector, undertaker, superintendent v.  ACT, AGENCY, BERUF, ECONOMY, LIBERAL, OIKONOMIA, PRAXIS, UTILITY. Refs.: G. J. Warnock, “English philosophy,” H. P. Grice, “Gricese,” BANC.

Grice’s handwave. A sort of handwave can mean in a one-off act of communication something. It’s the example he uses. By a sort of handwave, the emissor communicates either that he knows the route or that he is about to leave the addressee. Handwave signals. Code. Cfr. the Beatles’s HELP. Explicatum: We need some body – Implicatum: Not just Any Body. Why does this matter to the philosopher? The thing is as follows. Grice was provoked by Austin. To defeat Austin, Grice needs a ‘theory of communication.’ This theory applies his early reflections on the intentional side to an act of communication. This allows him to explain the explicatum versus the implicatum. By analysing each, Grice notes that there is no need to refer to linguistic entities. So, the centrality of the handwave is an offshoot of his theory designed to defeat Austin.

Grice’s myth. Or Griceian myths – The Handbook of Griceian mythology. At one point Grice suggests that his ‘genitorial programme’ a kind of ideal-observer theory is meant as ‘didactic,’ and for expository purposes. It seems easier, as , as Grice and Plato would agree, to answer a question about the genitorial programme rather than use a first-person approach and appeal to introspection. Grice refers to the social contract as a ‘myth,’ which may still explain, as ‘meaning’ does. G. R. Grice built his career on this myth. This is G. R. Grice, of the social-contract fame. Cf. Strawson and Wiggins comparing Grice’s myth with Plato’s, and they know what they are talking about.

Grice’s predicament.  S draws a pic- "one-off predicament"). ... Clarendon, 1976); and Simon Blackburn, Spreading the Word (Oxford: Clarendon, 1984) ... But there is an obvious way of emending the account. Grice points out. ... Blackburn helpfully suggests that we can cut through much of this complexity by ... The above account is intended to capture the notion of one-off meaning. Walking in a forest, having gone some way ahead of the rest of the party, I draw an arrow at a fork of a path, meaning that those who are following me should go straight on. Gricean considerations may be safely ignored. Only when trying to communicate by nonconventional means ("one-off predicament," Blackburn, 1984, chap. Blackburn's mission is to promote the philosophy of language as a pivotal enquiry ... and dismissed; the Gricean model might be suitable to explain one-off acts. The Gricean mechanism with its complex communicative intentions has a clear point in what Blackburn calls “a one-off predicament” - a situation in which an ...

Grice’s shaggy-dog story: While Grice would like to say that it should be in the range of a rational creature to refer and to predicate, what about the hand wave? By his handwave, the emissor means that _HE_ (subject) is a knower of the road (or roate), the predicate after the copula or that he, the emissor, subject, is (the copula) about to leave his emissee – but there is nothing IN THE MATTER (the handwave) that can be ‘de-composed’ like that. The FORM attaches to the communicatum directly. This is strange, but not impossible, and shows Grice’s programme. Because his idea is that a communicatum need not a vehicile which is syntactically structured (as “Fido is shaggy”). This is the story that Grice tells in his lecture. He uses a ‘shaggy-dog’ story to explain TWO main notions: that of ‘reference’ or denotatio, and that of predicatio. He had explored that earlier when discussing, giving an illustration “Smith is happy”, the idea of ‘value,’ as correspondence, where he adds the terms for ‘denote’ and ‘predicatio,’ or actually, ‘designatio’ and ‘indicatio’, need to be “explained within the theory.” In the utterance ‘Smith is happy,’ the utterer DESIGNATES an item, Smith. The utterer also INDICATES some class, ‘being happy.’ Grice introduces a shorthand, ‘assign’, or ‘assignatio,’ previous to the value-satisfaction, to involve both the ‘designatio’ and the ‘indicatio’. U assigns the item Smith to the class ‘being happy.’ U’s intention involves A’s belief that U believes that “the item belongs to the class, or that he ASSIGNS the item to the class. A predicate, such as 'shaggy,' in my shaggy-dog story, is a part of a bottom-up, or top-bottom, as I prefer, analysis of this or that sentences, and a predicate, such as 'shaggy,' is the only indispensable 'part,' or 'element,' as I prefer, since a predicate is the only 'pars orationis,' to use the old phrase, that must appear in every sentence. In a later lecture he ventures with ‘reference.’ Lewis and Short have “rĕferre,” rendered as “to bear, carry, bring, draw, or give back,” in a “transf.” usage, they render as “to make a reference, to refer (class.),” asa in “de rebus et obscuris et incertis ad Apollinem censeo referendum; “ad quem etiam Athenienses publice de majoribus rebus semper rettulerunt,” Cic. Div. 1, 54, 122.” While Grice uses ‘Fido,’ he could have used ‘Pegasus’ (Martin’s cat, as it happens) and apply Quine’s adage: we could have appealed to the ex hypothesi unanalyzable, irreducible attribute of being Pegasus, adopting, for its expression, the verb 'is-Pegasus', or 'pegasizes'. And Grice could have played with ‘predicatio’ and ‘subjectio.’ Grice on subject.  Lewis and Short have “sūbĭcĭo,” (less correctly subjĭcĭo ; post-Aug. sometimes sŭb- ), jēci, jectum, 3, v. a. sub-jacio.  which they render as “to throw, lay, place, or bring under or near (cf. subdo),” and in philosophy, “subjectum , i, n. (sc. verbum), as “that which is spoken of, the foundation or subject of a proposition;”  “omne quicquid dicimus aut subjectum est aut de subjecto aut in subjecto est. Subjectum est prima substantia, quod ipsum nulli accidit alii inseparabiliter, etc.,” Mart. Cap. 4, § 361; App. Dogm. Plat. 3, p. 34, 4 et saep.—.” Note that for Mart. Cap. the ‘subject,’ unlike the ‘predicate’ is not a ‘syntactical category.’ “Subjectum est prima substantia,” The subject is a prote ousia. As for correlation, Grice ends up with a reductive analysis. By uttering utterance-token V, the utterer U correlates predicate P1 with (and only with) each member of P2 ≡ (∃R)(∃R') (1) U effects that (∀x)(R P1x ≡ x ∈ P1) and (2) U intends (1), and (3) U intends that (∀y)(R' P1y ≡ y ∈ P1), where R' P1 is an expression-type such that utterance-token V is a sequence consisting of an expression-token p1 of expression-type P1 and an expression-token p2  of expression-type P2, the R-co-relatum of which is a set of which y is a member. And he is back with ‘denotare. Lewis and Short have “dēnŏtare,” which they render as “to mark, set a mark on, with chalk, color, etc.: “pedes venalium creta,”  It is interesting to trace Grice’s earliest investigations on this. Grice and Strawson stage a number of joint seminars on topics related to the notions of meaning, categories, and logical form. Grice and Strawson engage in systematic and unsystematic philosophical exploration. From these discussions springs work on predication and categories, one or two reflections of which are acknowledge at two places (re: the reductive analysis of a ‘particular,’ “the tallest man that did, does, or will exist” --) in Strawson’s “Particular and general” for The Aristotelian Society – and “visible” as Grice puts it, but not acknowledged, in Strawson’s “Individuals: an essay in descriptive metaphysics.””

Grice’s theory-theory: “I am perhaps not too happy with the word ‘theory,’ as applied to this, but that’s Ramsey for you” (WoW: 285). Grice’s theory-theory: A theory of mind concerning how we come to know about the propositional attitudes of others. It tries to explain the nature of ascribing certain thoughts, beliefs, or intentions to other persons in order to explain their actions. The theory-theory holds that in ascribing beliefs to others we are tacitly applying a theory that enables us to make inferences about the beliefs behind the actions of others. The theory that is applied is a set of rules embedded in folk psychology. Hence, to anticipate and predict the behavior of others, one engages in an intellectual process moving by inference from one set of beliefs to another. This position contrasts with another theory of mind, the simulation theory, which holds that we need to make use of our own motivational and emotional resources and capacities for practical reasoning in explaining actions of others. “So called ‘theory-theorists’ maintain that the ability to explain and predict behaviour is underpinned by a folk-psychological theory of the structure and functioning of the mind – where the theory in question may be innate and modularised, learned individually, or acquired through a process of enculturation.” Carruthers and Smith (eds.), Theories of Theories of Mind. Grice needs a theory. For those into implicata and conversation as rational cooperation, when introducing the implicatum he mentions ‘pre-theoretical adequacy’ of the model. So he is thinking of the conversational theory as a theory in the strict sense, with ‘explanatory’ and not merely taxonomical power. So one task is to examine in which way the conversational theory is a theory that explains, rather than merely ad hoc ex post facto commentary.  Not so much for his approach to mean. He polemises with Rountree, of Somerville, that you dont need a thory to analyse mean. Indeed, you cannot have a theory to analyse mean, because mean is a matter of intuition, not a theoretical concept. But Grice appeals to theory, when dealing with willing. He knows what willing means because he relies on a concept of folk-science. In this folk-science, willing is a theoretical concept. Grice arrived at this conclusion by avoiding the adjective souly, and seeing that there is no word to describe willing other than by saying it is a psychoLOGICAL concept, i.e. part of a law within that theory of folk-science. That law will include, by way of ramsified naming or describing willing as a predicate-constant. Now, this is related to metaphysics. His liberal or ecunmenical metaphysics is best developed in terms of his ontological marxism presented just after he has expanded on this idea of willing as a theoretical concept, within a law involving willing (say, Grices Optimism-cum-Pesimism law), within the folk-science of psychology that explains his behaviour. For Aristotle, a theoria, was quite a different animal, but it had to do with contemplatio, hence the theoretical (vita contemplativa) versus the practical (vita activa). Grices sticking to Aristotle’srare use of theory inspires him to develop his fascinating theory of the theory-theory.  Grice realised that there is no way to refer to things like intending except with psychological, which he takes to mean, belonging to a pscyhological theory. Grice was keen to theorise on theorising. He thought that Aristotle’s first philosophy (prote philosophia) is best rendered as Theory-theory. Grice kept using Oxonian English spelling, theorising, except when he did not! Grice calls himself folksy: his theories, even if Subjects to various types of Ramseyfication, are popular in kind! And ceteris paribus! Metaphysical construction is disciplined and the best theorising the philosopher can hope for! The way Grice conceives of his theory-theory is interesting to revisit. A route by which Grice hopes to show the centrality of metaphysics (as prote philosophia) involves taking seriously a few ideas. If any region of enquiry is to be successful as a rational enterprise, its deliverance must be expressable in the shape of one or another of the possibly different types of theory. A characterisation of the nature and range of a possible kind of theory θ is needed. Such a body of characterisation must itself be the outcome of rational enquiry, and so must itself exemplify whatever requirement it lays down for any theory θ in general. The characterisation must itself be expressible as a theory θ, to be called, if you like, Grice politely puts it, theory-theory, or meta-theory, θ2. Now, the specification and justification of the ideas and material presupposed by any theory θ, whether such account falls within the bounds of Theory-theory, θ2 would be properly called prote philosophia (first philosophy) and may turn out to relate to what is generally accepted as belonging to the Subjects matter of metaphysics. It might, for example, turn out to be establishable that any theory θ has to relate to a certain range of this or that Subjects item, has to attribute to each item this or that predicate or attribute, which in turn has to fall within one or another of the range of types or categories. In this way, the enquiry might lead to recognised metaphysical topics, such as the nature of being, its range of application, the nature of predication and a systematic account of categories. Met. , philosophical eschatology, and Platos Republic, Thrasymachus, social justice, Socrates, along with notes on Zeno, and topics for pursuit, repr.in Part II, Explorations in semantics and  metaphysics to WOW , metaphysics, philosophical eschatology, Platos Republic, Socrates, Thrasymachus, justice, moral right, legal right, Athenian dialectic. Philosophical eschatology is a sub-discipline of metaphysics concerned with what Grice calls a category shift. Grice, having applied such a technique to Aristotle’s aporia on philos (friend) as alter ego, uses it now to tackle Socratess view, against Thrasymachus, that right applies primarily to morality, and secondarily to legality. Grice has a specific reason to include this in his WOW Grices exegesis of Plato on justice displays Grices take on the fact that metaphysics needs to be subdivided into ontology proper and what he calls philosophical eschatology, for the study of things like category shift and other construction routines. The exploration of Platos Politeia thus becomes an application of Grices philosophically eschatological approach to the item just, as used by Socrates (morally just) and Thrasymachus (legally just). Grice has one specific essay on Aristotle in PPQ. So he thought Plato merited his own essay, too! Grices focus is on Plato’s exploration of dike. Grice is concerned with a neo-Socratic (versus neo-Thrasymachean) account of moral justice as conceptually (or axiologically) prior to legal justice. In the proceeding, he creates philosophical eschatology as the other branch to metaphysics, along with good ol ontology. To say that just crosses a categorial barrier (from the moral to the legal) is to make a metaphysical, strictly eschatological, pronouncement. The Grice Papers locate the Plato essay in s.  II, the Socrates essay in s.  III, and the Thrasymachus essay, under social justice, in s. V. Grice is well aware that in his account of fairness, Rawls makes use of his ideas on personal identity. The philosophical elucidation of fairness is of great concern for Grice. He had been in touch with such explorations as Nozicks and Nagels along anti-Rawlsian lines. Grices ideas on rationality guide his exploration of social justice. Grice keeps revising the Socrates notes. The Plato essay he actually dates. As it happens, Grices most extensive published account of Socrates is in this commentary on Platos Republic: an eschatological commentary, as he puts it. In an entertaining fashion, Grice has Socrates, and neo-Socrates, exploring the logic and grammar of just against the attack by Thrasymachus and neo-Thrasymachus. Grices point is that, while the legal just may be conceptually prior to the moral just, the moral just is evaluationally or axiologically prior. Refs.: There is a specific essay on ‘theorising’ in the Grice Papers, but there are scattered sources elsewhere, such as “Method” (repr. in “Conception”), BANC.

Grice’s three-year-old’s guide to Russell’s theory of types, with an advice to parents by Strawson: Grice put forward the empirical hypothesis that a three-year old CAN understand Russell’s theory of types. “In more than one way.” This brought confusion in the household, with some members saying they could not – “And I trust few of your tutees do!” Russell’s influential solution to the problem of logical paradoxes. The theory was developed in particular to overcome Russell’s paradox, which seemed to destroy the possibility of Frege’s logicist program of deriving mathematics from logic. Suppose we ask whether the set of all sets which are not members of themselves is a member of itself. If it is, then it is not, but if it is not, then it is. The theory of types suggests classifying objects, properties, relations, and sets into a hierarchy of types. For example, a class of type 0 has members that are ordinary objects; type 1 has members that are properties of objects of type 0; type 2 has members that are properties of the properties in type 1; and so on. What can be true or false of items of one type can not significantly be said about those of another type and is simply nonsense. If we observe the prohibitions against classes containing members of different types, Russell’s paradox and similar paradoxes can be avoided. The theory of types has two variants. The simple theory of types classifies different objects and properties, while the ramified theory of types further sorts types into levels and adds a hierarchy of levels to that of types. By restricting predicates to those that relate to items of lower types or lower levels within their own type, predicates giving rise to paradox are excluded. The simple theory of types is sufficient for solving logical paradoxes, while the ramified theory of type is introduced to solve semantic paradoxes, that is, paradoxes depending on notions such as reference and truth. “Any expression containing an apparent variable is of higher type than that variable. This is the fundamental principles of the doctrines of types.” Russell, Logic and Knowledge. Grice’s commentary in “In defense of a dogma,” The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

griceism. Gricese. At Oxford, it was usual to refer to Austin’s idiolect as Austinese. In analogy with Grecism, we have a Gricism, a Griceian cliché. Cf. a ‘grice’ and ‘griceful’ in ‘philosopher’s lexicon.’ Gricese is a Latinism, from -ese, word-forming element, from Old French -eis (Modern French -ois, -ais), from Vulgar Latin, from Latin -ensem, -ensis "belonging to" or "originating in."

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

Hampshireism: To add to the philosophers’ mistakes. There’s Austin (in “Plea for Excuses” and “Other Minds”), Strawson (in “Truth” and “Introduction to Logical Theory,” and “On referring”), Hart (in conversation, on ‘carefully,”), Hare (“To say ‘x is good’ is to recommend x”) and Hampshire (“Intention and certainty”). For Grice, the certainty is merely implicated and on occasion, only.  Cited by Grice as a member of the play group. Hampshire would dine once a week with Grice. He would discuss and find very amusing to discuss with Grice on post-war Oxford philosophy. Unlike Grice, Hampshire attended Austin’s Thursday evening meetings at All Souls. Grice wrote “Intention and uncertainty” in part as a response to Hampshire and Hart, Intention and certainty. But Grice brought the issue back to an earlier generation, to a polemic between Stout (who held a certainty-based view) and Prichard.

hazzing: under conjunctum, we see that the terminology is varied. There is the copulatum. But Grice prefers to restrict to use of the copulatum to izzing and hazzing. Oddly Grice sees hazzing as a predicate which he formalizes as Hxy. To be read x hazzes y, although sometimes he uses ‘x hazz y.’ Vide ‘accidentia.’ For Grice the role of métier is basic since it shows finality in nature. Homo sapiens, qua pirot, is to be rational.

hint hinting. Don’t expect Cicero used this. It’s Germanic and related to ‘hunt,’ to ‘seize.’ As if you throw something in the air, and expect your recipient will seize it. Grice spends quite a long section in “Retrospective epilogue” to elucidate “Emissor E communicates that p via a hint,” versus “Emissor E communicates that p via a suggestion.” Some level of explicitness (vide candour) is necessary. If it is too obscure it cannot be held to have been ‘communicated’ in the first place! Cf. Holdcroft, “Some forms of indirect communication” for the Journal of Rhetoric. Grice had to do a bit of linguistic botany for his “E implicates that p”: To do duty for ‘imply,’ suggest, indicate, hint, mean, -- “etc.” indirectly or implicitly convey.

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

Hobson’s choice:  willkür – Hobson’s choice. One of Grice’s favourite words from Kant – “It’s so Kantish!” I told Pears about this, and having found it’s cognate with English ‘choose,’ he immediately set to write an essay on the topic!” f., ‘option, discretion, caprice,’ from MidHG. willekür, f., ‘free choice, free will’; gee kiesen and Kur-kiesen, verb, ‘to select,’ from Middle High German kiesen, Old High German chiosan, ‘to test, try, taste for the purpose of testing, test by tasting, select after strict examination.’ Gothic kiusan, Anglo-Saxon ceósan, English to choose. Teutonic root kus (with the change of s into r, kur in the participle erkoren, see also Kur, ‘choice’), from pre-Teutonic gus, in Latin gus-tus, gus-tare, Greek γεύω for γεύσω, Indian root juš, ‘to select, be fond of.’ Teutonic kausjun passed as kusiti into Slavonic. There is an oil portrait of Thomas Hobson, in the National Portrait Gallery, London. He looks straight to the artist and is dressed in typical Tudor dress, with a heavy coat, a ruff, and tie tails Thomas Hobson, a portrait in the National Portrait Gallery, London. A Hobson's choice is a free choice in which only one thing is offered. Because a person may refuse to accept what is offered, the two options are taking it or taking nothing. In other words, one may "take it or leave it".  The phrase is said to have originated with Thomas Hobson (1544–1631), a livery stable owner in Cambridge, England, who offered customers the choice of either taking the horse in his stall nearest to the door or taking none at all. According to a plaque underneath a painting of Hobson donated to Cambridge Guildhall, Hobson had an extensive stable of some 40 horses. This gave the appearance to his customers that, upon entry, they would have their choice of mounts, when in fact there was only one: Hobson required his customers to choose the horse in the stall closest to the door. This was to prevent the best horses from always being chosen, which would have caused those horses to become overused.[1] Hobson's stable was located on land that is now owned by St Catharine's College, Cambridge.  Early appearances in writing According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the first known written usage of this phrase is in The rustick's alarm to the Rabbies, written by Samuel Fisher in 1660:[3]  If in this Case there be no other (as the Proverb is) then Hobson's choice...which is, chuse whether you will have this or none.  It also appears in Joseph Addison's paper The Spectator (No. 509 of 14 October 1712); and in Thomas Ward's 1688 poem "England's Reformation", not published until after Ward's death. Ward wrote:  Where to elect there is but one, 'Tis Hobson's choice—take that, or none. The term "Hobson's choice" is often used to mean an illusion of choice, but it is not a choice between two equivalent options, which is a Morton's fork, nor is it a choice between two undesirable options, which is a dilemma. Hobson's choice is one between something or nothing.  John Stuart Mill, in his book Considerations on Representative Government, refers to Hobson's choice:  When the individuals composing the majority would no longer be reduced to Hobson's choice, of either voting for the person brought forward by their local leaders, or not voting at all. In another of his books, The Subjection of Women, Mill discusses marriage:  Those who attempt to force women into marriage by closing all other doors against them, lay themselves open to a similar retort. If they mean what they say, their opinion must evidently be, that men do not render the married condition so desirable to women, as to induce them to accept it for its own recommendations. It is not a sign of one's thinking the boon one offers very attractive, when one allows only Hobson's choice, 'that or none'.... And if men are determined that the law of marriage shall be a law of despotism, they are quite right in point of mere policy, in leaving to women only Hobson's choice. But, in that case, all that has been done in the modern world to relax the chain on the minds of women, has been a mistake. They should have never been allowed to receive a literary education.[7]  A Hobson's choice is different from:  Dilemma: a choice between two or more options, none of which is attractive. False dilemma: only certain choices are considered, when in fact there are others. Catch-22: a logical paradox arising from a situation in which an individual needs something that can only be acquired by not being in that very situation. Morton's fork, and a double bind: choices yield equivalent, and often undesirable, results. Blackmail and extortion: the choice between paying money (or some non-monetary good or deed) or risk suffering an unpleasant action. A common error is to use the phrase "Hobbesian choice" instead of "Hobson's choice", confusing the philosopher Thomas Hobbes with the relatively obscure Thomas Hobson[8][9][10] (It's possible they may be confusing "Hobson's choice" with "Hobbesian trap", which refers to the trap into which a state falls when it attacks another out of fear).[11] Notwithstanding that confused usage, the phrase "Hobbesian choice" is historically incorrect.[12][13][14]  Common law In Immigration and Naturalization Service v. Chadha (1983), Justice Byron White dissented and classified the majority's decision to strike down the "one-house veto" as unconstitutional as leaving Congress with a Hobson's choice. Congress may choose between "refrain[ing] from delegating the necessary authority, leaving itself with a hopeless task of writing laws with the requisite specificity to cover endless special circumstances across the entire policy landscape, or in the alternative, to abdicate its lawmaking function to the executive branch and independent agency".  In Philadelphia v. New Jersey, 437 U.S. 617 (1978),[15] the majority opinion ruled that a New Jersey law which prohibited the importation of solid or liquid waste from other states into New Jersey was unconstitutional based on the Commerce Clause. The majority reasoned that New Jersey cannot discriminate between the intrastate waste and the interstate waste with out due justification. In dissent, Justice Rehnquist stated:  [According to the Court,] New Jersey must either prohibit all landfill operations, leaving itself to cast about for a presently nonexistent solution to the serious problem of disposing of the waste generated within its own borders, or it must accept waste from every portion of the United States, thereby multiplying the health and safety problems which would result if it dealt only with such wastes generated within the State. Because past precedents establish that the Commerce Clause does not present appellees with such a Hobson's choice, I dissent.  In Monell v. Department of Social Services of the City of New York, 436 U.S. 658 (1978)[16] the judgement of the court was that  [T]here was ample support for Blair's view that the Sherman Amendment, by putting municipalities to the Hobson's choice of keeping the peace or paying civil damages, attempted to impose obligations to municipalities by indirection that could not be imposed directly, thereby threatening to "destroy the government of the states".  In the South African Constitutional Case MEC for Education, Kwa-Zulu Natal and Others v Pillay, 2008 (1) SA 474 (CC)[17] Chief Justice Langa for the majority of the Court (in Paragraph 62 of the judgement) writes that:  The traditional basis for invalidating laws that prohibit the exercise of an obligatory religious practice is that it confronts the adherents with a Hobson's choice between observance of their faith and adherence to the law. There is however more to the protection of religious and cultural practices than saving believers from hard choices. As stated above, religious and cultural practices are protected because they are central to human identity and hence to human dignity which is in turn central to equality. Are voluntary practices any less a part of a person's identity or do they affect human dignity any less seriously because they are not mandatory?  In Epic Systems Corp. v. Lewis (2018), Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg dissented and added in one of the footnotes that the petitioners "faced a Hobson’s choice: accept arbitration on their employer’s terms or give up their jobs".  In Trump et al v. Mazars USA, LLP, US Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia No. 19-5142, 49 (D.C. Cir. 11 October 2019) ("[w]orse still, the dissent’s novel approach would now impose upon the courts the job of ordering the cessation of the legislative function and putting Congress to the Hobson’s Choice of impeachment or nothing.").  Popular culture Hobson's Choice is a full-length stage comedy written by Harold Brighouse in 1915. At the end of the play, the central character, Henry Horatio Hobson, formerly a wealthy, self-made businessman but now a sick and broken man, faces the unpalatable prospect of being looked after by his daughter Maggie and her husband Will Mossop, who used to be one of Hobson's underlings. His other daughters have refused to take him in, so he has no choice but to accept Maggie's offer which comes with the condition that he must surrender control of his entire business to her and her husband, Will.  The play was adapted for film several times, including versions from 1920 by Percy Nash, 1931 by Thomas Bentley, 1954 by David Lean and a 1983 TV movie.  Alfred Bester's 1952 short story Hobson's Choice describes a world in which time travel is possible, and the option is to travel or to stay in one's native time.  In the 1951 Robert Heinlein book Between Planets, the main character Don Harvey incorrectly mentions he has a Hobson's choice. While on a space station orbiting Earth, Don needs to get to Mars, where his parents are. The only rockets available are back to Earth (where he is not welcome) or on to Venus.  In The Grim Grotto by Lemony Snicket, the Baudelaire orphans and Fiona are said to be faced with a Hobson's Choice when they are trapped by the Medusoid Mycelium Mushrooms in the Gorgonian Grotto: "We can wait until the mushrooms disappear, or we can find ourselves poisoned".In Bram Stoker's short story "The Burial of Rats", the narrator advises he has a case of Hobson's Choice while being chased by villains. The story was written around 1874.  The Terminal Experiment, a 1995 science fiction novel by Robert J. Sawyer, was originally serialised under the title Hobson's Choice.  Half-Life, a video game created in 1998 by Valve includes a Hobson's Choice in the final chapter. A human-like entity, known only as the 'G-Man', offers the protagonist Gordon Freeman a job, working under his control. If Gordon were to refuse this offer, he would be killed in an unwinnable battle, thus creating the 'illusion of free choice'.  In Early Edition, the lead character Gary Hobson is named after the choices he regularly makes during his adventures.  In an episode of Inspector George Gently, a character claims her resignation was a Hobson's choice, prompting a debate among other police officers as to who Hobson is.  In "Cape May" (The Blacklist season 3, episode 19), Raymond Reddington describes having faced a Hobson's choice in the previous episode where he was faced with the choice of saving Elizabeth Keen's baby and losing Elizabeth Keen or losing them both.  In his 1984 novel Job: A Comedy of Justice, Robert A. Heinlein's protagonist is said to have Hobson's Choice when he has the options of boarding the wrong cruise ship or staying on the island.  Remarking about the 1909 Ford Model T, US industrialist Henry Ford is credited as saying “Any customer can have a car painted any color that he wants so long as it is black”[19]  In 'The Jolly Boys' Outing', a 1989 Christmas Special episode of Only Fools and Horses, Alan states they are left with Hobson's Choice after their coach has blown up (due to a dodgy radio, supplied by Del). There's a rail strike, the last bus has gone, and their coach is out of action. They can't hitch-hike as there's 27 of them, and the replacement coach doesn't come till the next morning, thus their only choice is to stay in Margate for the night.  See also Buckley's Chance Buridan's ass Boulwarism Death and Taxes Locus of control Morton's fork No-win situation Standard form contract Sophie's Choice Zugzwang References  Barrett, Grant. "Hobson's Choice", A Way with Words  "Thomas Hobson: Hobson's Choice and Hobson's Conduit". Historyworks.  See Samuel Fisher. "Rusticus ad academicos in exercitationibus expostulatoriis, apologeticis quatuor the rustick's alarm to the rabbies or The country correcting the university and clergy, and ... contesting for the truth ... : in four apologeticall and expostulatory exercitations : wherein is contained, as well a general account to all enquirers, as a general answer to all opposers of the most truly catholike and most truly Christ-like Chistians called Quakers, and of the true divinity of their doctrine : by way of entire entercourse held in special with four of the clergies chieftanes, viz, John Owen ... Tho. Danson ... John Tombes ... Rich. Baxter ." Europeana. Retrieved 8 August 2014.  See The Spectator with Notes and General Index, the Twelve Volumes Comprised in Two. Philadelphia: J.J. Woodward. 1832. p. 272. Retrieved 4 August 2014. via Google Books  Ward, Thomas (1853). English Reformation, A Poem. New York: D.& J. Sadlier & Co. p. 373. Retrieved 8 August 2014. via Internet Archive  See Mill, John Stuart (1861). Considerations on Representative Government (1 ed.). London: Parker, Son, & Bourn. p. 145. Retrieved 23 June 2014. via Google Books  Mill, John Stuart (1869). The Subjection of Women (1869 first ed.). London: Longmans, Green, Reader & Dyer. pp. 51–2. Retrieved 28 July 2014.  Hobbes, Thomas (1982) [1651]. Leviathan, or the Matter, Form, and Power of a Commonwealth, Ecclesiastical and Civil. New York: Viking Press.  Martinich, A. P. (1999). Hobbes: A Biography. Cambridge, UK; New York: Cambridge University Press. ISBN 978-0-521-49583-7.  Martin, Gary. "Hobson's Choice". The Phrase Finder. Archived from the original on 6 March 2009. Retrieved 7 August 2010.  "The Hobbesian Trap" (PDF). 21 September 2010. Retrieved 8 April 2012.  "Sunday Lexico-Neuroticism". boaltalk.blogspot.com. 27 July 2008. Retrieved 7 August 2010.  Levy, Jacob (10 June 2003). "The Volokh Conspiracy". volokh.com. Retrieved 7 August 2010.  Oxford English Dictionary, Editor: "Amazingly, some writers have confused the obscure Thomas Hobson with his famous contemporary, the philosopher Thomas Hobbes. The resulting malapropism is beautifully grotesque". Garner, Bryan (1995). A Dictionary of Modern Legal Usage (2nd ed.). Oxford University Press. pp. 404–405.  https://supreme.justia.com/cases/federal/us/437/617/  "Monell v. Department of Soc. Svcs. - 436 U.S. 658 (1978)". justicia.com. US Supreme Court. 6 June 1978. 436 U.S. 658. Retrieved 19 February 2014.  "MEC for Education: Kwazulu-Natal and Others v Pillay (CCT 51/06) [2007] ZACC 21; 2008 (1) SA 474 (CC); 2008 (2) BCLR 99 (CC) (5 October 2007)". www.saflii.org.  Snicket, Lemony (2004) The Grim Grotto, New York: HarperCollins Publishers p.145 - 147  Henry Ford in collaboration with Samuel Crowther in My Life and Work. 1922. Page 72 External links Chisholm, Hugh, ed. (1911). "Hobson's Choice" . Encyclopædia Britannica. 13 (11th ed.). Cambridge University Press. p. 553. Categories: English-language idiomsFree willMetaphors referring to peopleDilemmas. Refs.: H. P. Grice and D. F. Pears, The philosophy of action, Pears, Choosing and deciding. The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

I: particularis dedicativa.. See Grice, “Circling the Square of Opposition.

ichthyological necessity: topic-neutral: Originally, Ryle’s term for logical constants, such as “of ” “not,” “every.” They are not endowed with special meanings, and are applicable to discourse about any subject-matter. They do not refer to any external object but function to organize meaningful discourse. J. J. C. Smart calls a term topic-neutral if it is noncommittal about designating something mental or something physical. Instead, it simply describes an event without judging the question of its intrinsic nature. In his central-state theory of mind, Smart develops a topic-neutral analysis of mental expressions and argues that it is possible to account for the situations described by mental concepts in purely physical and topic-neutral terms. “In this respect, statements like ‘I am thinking now’ are, as J. J. C. Smart puts it, topic-neutral. They say that something is going on within us, something apt for the causing of certain sorts of behaviour, but they say nothing of the nature of this process.” D. Armstrong, A Materialist Theory of the Mind

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

ideatum. Quite used by Grice. Cf. Conceptum. Sub-perceptual. Cognate with ‘eidos,’ that Grice translates as ‘forma.’ Why is an ‘eidos’ an ‘idea’ and in what sense is an idea a ‘form’? These are deep questions!

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

illatum, f. illātĭo (inl- ), ōnis, f. infero, a logical inference, conclusion: “vel illativum rogamentum. quod ex acceptionibus colligitur et infertur,” App. Dogm. Plat. 3, pp. 34, 15. – infero: to conclude, infer, draw an inference, Cic. Inv. 1, 47, 87; Quint. 5, 11, 27.