IMPLICATVRA, in 18 volumes -- vol. XVI

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

sub-gestum -- suggestum: not necesarilyy ‘falsi.’ The verb is ‘to suggest that…’ which is diaphanous. Note that the ‘su-‘ stands for ‘sub-‘ which conveys the implicitness or covertness of the impicatum. Indirectness. It’s ‘under,’ not ‘above’ board.’ To suggest, advise, prompt, offer, bring to mind: “quoties aequitas restitutionem suggerit,” Dig. 4, 6, 26 fin.; cf.: “quae (res) suggerit, ut Italicarum rerum esse credantur eae res,” reminds, admonishes, ib. 28, 5, 35 fin.: “quaedam de republicā,” Aur. Vict. Vir. Ill. 66, 2. — Absol.: “suggerente conjuge,” at the instigation of, Aur. Vict. Epit. 41, 11; cf.: “suggerente irā,” id. ib. 12, 10.— The implicaturum is a suggestum – ALWAYS cancellable. Or not? Sometimes not, if ‘reasonable,’ but not ‘rational.’ Jill suggests that Jack is brave when she says, “He is an Englishman, he is; therefore, brave.” The tommy suggests that her povery contrasts with her honesty (“’Tis the same the whole world over.”) So the ‘suggestum’ is like the implicaturum. A particular suggesta are ‘conversational suggestum.’ For Grice this is philosophically important, because many philosophical adages cover ‘suggesta’ which are not part of the philosopher’s import! Vide Holdcroft, “Some forms of indirect communication.”

sub-pressum -- suppresum veri: This is a bit like an act of omission – about which Urmson once asked, “Is that ‘to do,’ Grice?” – Strictly, it is implicatural. “Smith has a beautiful handwriting.” Grice’s abductum: “He must be suppressing some ‘veri,’ but surely the ‘suggestio falsi’ is cancellable. On the other hand, my abent-minded uncle, who ‘suppresses,’ is not ‘implicating.’ The ‘suppressio’ has to be ‘intentional,’ as an ‘omission’ is. Since for the Romans, the ‘verum’ applied to a unity (alethic/practical) this was good. No multiplication, but unity – cf. untranslatable (think) – modality ‘the ‘must’, neutral – desideratum-doxa – think – Yes, when Untranslatable discuss ‘vero’ they do say it applies to ‘factual’ and sincerity, I think. At Collections, the expectation is that Grice gives a report on the philosopher’s ability – not on  his handwriting. It is different when Grice applied to St. John’s. “He doesn’t return library books.” G. Richardson. Why did he use this on two occasions? In “Prolegomena,” he uses it for his desideratum of conversational fortitude (“make a strong conversational move”). To suppress. suggestio falsi. Pl. suggestiones falsi.  [mod.L., = suggestion of what is false.]  A misrepresentation of the truth whereby something incorrect is implied to be true; an indirect lie. Often in contexts with suppressio veri.  QUOTES:  1815 H. Maddock Princ. & Pract. Chancery I. 208  Whenever Suppressio veri or Suggestio falsi occur..they afford a sufficient ground for setting aside any Release or Conveyance.   1855 Newspaper & Gen. Reader's Pocket Compan. i.4  He was bound to say that the suppressio veri on that occasion approached very nearly to a positive suggestio falsi.   1898 Kipling Stalky & Co. (1899) 36  It seems..that they had held back material facts; that they were guilty both of suppressio veri and suggestio falsi.  1907 W. de Morgan Alice-for-Short xxxvi. 389   That's suppressio veri and suggestio falsi! Besides, it's fibs!   1962 J. Wilson Public Schools & Private Practice i. 19  It is rare to find a positively verifiable untruth in a school brochure: but it is equally rare not to find a great many suggestiones falsi, particularly as regards the material comfort and facilities available.   1980 D. Newsome On Edge of Paradise 7  There are undoubted cases of suppressio veri; on the other hand, he appears to eschew suggestio falsi.  --- Fibs indeed. Suppress, suggest.   Write: "Griceland, Inc."   "Yes, I agree to become a Doctor in Gricean Studies"   EXAM QUESTION:  1. Discuss suggestio falsi in terms of detachability.  2. Compare suppresio veri and suggestion falsi in connection with "The king of France is bald" uttered during Napoleon's time.  3. Invent things for 'suppressio falsi' and 'suggestio veri'.  4. No. You cannot go to the bathroom.

summum genus. What adjective is the ‘sumum’ translating, Grice wondered. And he soon found out. We know that the Romans were unoriginally enough with their ‘genus’ (cf. ‘gens’) translating Grecian ‘genos.’ The highest category in the ‘arbor griceiana’ -- The categories. There is infimum genus, or sub-summum. Talk of categories becomes informal in Grice when he ‘echoes’ Kant in the mention of four ‘functions’ that generate for Kant twelve categories. Grice however uses the functions themselves, echoing Ariskant, rather, as ‘caegory’. We have then a category of conversational quantity (involved in a principle of maximization of conversational informativeness). We have a category of conversational quality (or a desideratum of conversational candour). We have a category of conversational relation (cf. Strawson’s principle of relevance along with Strawson’s principles of the presumption of knowledge and the presumption of ignorance). Lastly, we have a category of conversational mode. For some reason, Grice uses ‘manner’ sometimes in lieu of Meiklejohn’s apt translation of Kant’s modality into the shorter ‘mode.’ The four have Aristotelian pedigree, indeed Grecian and Graeco-Roman: The quantity is Kant’s quantitat which is Aristotle’s posotes (sic abstract) rendered in Roman as ‘quantitas.’ Of course, Aristotle derives ‘posotes,’ from ‘poson,’ the quantum. No quantity without quantum. The quality is Kant’s qualitat, which again has Grecian and Graeco-Roman pediegree. It is Aristotel’s poiotes (sic in abstract), rendered in Roman as qualitas. Again, derived from the more basic ‘poion,’ or ‘quale.’ Aristotle was unable to find a ‘-tes’ ending form for what Kant has as ‘relation.’ ‘pros it’ is used, and first translated into Roman as ‘relatio.’ We see here that we are talking of a ‘summum genus.’ For who other but a philosopher is going to lecture on the ‘pros it’? What Aristotle means is that Socrates is to the right of Plato. Finally, for Grice’s mode, there is Kant’s wrong ‘modalitat,’ since this refers to Aristotle ‘te’ and translated in Roman as ‘modus,’ which Meiklejohn, being a better classicist than Kant, renders as ‘mode,’ and not the pretentious sounding ‘modality.’ Now for Kant, 12 categories are involved here. Why? Because he subdivides each summum genus into three sub-summum or ‘inferiore’ genus. This is complex. Kant would DISAGREE with Grice’s idea that a subject can JUDGE in generic terms, say, about the quantum. The subject has THREE scenarios. It’s best to reverse the order, for surely unity comes before totality. One scenario, he utters a SINGULAR or individual utterance (Grice on ‘the’). The CATEGORY is the first category, THE UNUM or UNITAS. The one. The unity. Second scenario, he utters a PARTICULAR utterance (Grice’s “some (at least one). Here we encounter the SECOND category, that of PLURALITAS, the plurum, plurality. It’s a good thing Kant forgot that the Greeks had a dual number, and that Urquhart has fourth number, a re-dual. A third scenario: the nirvana. He utters a UNIVERSAL (totum) utterance (Grice on “all”). The category is that of TOTUM, TOTALITAS, totality. Kant does not deign to specify if he means substitutional or non-substitutional. For the quale, there are again three scenarios for Kant, and he would deny that the subject is confronted with the FUNCTION quale and be able to formulate a judgement. The first scenario involves the subject uttering a PROPOSITIO DEDICATIVA (Grice elaborates on this before introducing ‘not’ in “Indicative conditionals” – “Let’s start with some unstructured amorophous proposition.” Here the category is NOT AFFIRMATION, but the nirvana “REALITAS,” Reality, reale.Second scenario, subject utters a PROPOSITIO ABDICATIVA (Grice on ‘not’). While Kant does not consider affirmatio a category (why should he?), he does consider NEGATIO a category. Negation. See abdicatum. Third scenario, subject utters an PROPOSITIO INFINITA. Here the category is that of LIMITATION, which is quite like NEGATIO (cf. privatio, stelesis, versus habitus or hexis), but not quite. Possibly LIMITATUM. Regarding the ‘pros ti.’ The first scenario involves a categorema, PROPOSITIO CATEGORICA. Here Kant seems to think that there is ONE category called “INHERENCE AND SUBSTISTENCE or substance and accident. There seem rather two. He will go to this ‘pair’ formulation in one more case in the relation, and for the three under modus. If we count the ‘categorical pairs’ as being two categories. The total would not be 12 categories but 17, which is a rather ugly number for a list of categories, unles it is not. Kant is being VERY serious here, because if he has SUBSTISTENCE or SUBSTANCE as a category, this is SECUNDA SUBSTANTIA or ‘deutero-ousia.’ It is a no-no to count the prote ousia or PRIMA SUBSTANTIA as a category. It is defined as THE THING which cannot be predicated of anything! “SUMBEBEKOS” is a trick of Kant, for surely EVERYTHING BUT THE SUBSTANCE can be seen as an ‘accidens’ (In fact, those who deny categories, reduce them to ‘attribute’, or ‘property.’ The second scenario involves an ‘if’ Grice on ‘if’ – PROPOSITIO CONDITIONALIS – hypothetike protasis -- this involves for the first time a MOLECULAR proposition. As in the previous case, we have a ‘category pair’, which is formulated either as CAUSALITY (CAUSALITAS) and DEPENDENCE (Dependentia), or “cause’ (CAUSA) and ‘effect’ (Effectum). Kant is having in mind Strawson’s account of ‘if’ (The influence of P. F. Strawson on Kant). For since this is the hypothetical, Kant is suggeseting that in ‘if p, q’ q depends on p, or q is an effect of its cause, p. As in “If it rains, the boots are in the closet.” (J). The third scenario also involves a molectural proposition, A DISJUNCTUM. PROPOSITIO DISJUNCTIVA. Note that in Kant, ‘if’ before ‘or’! His implicaturum: subordination before coordination, which makes sense. Grice on ‘or.’ FOR SOME REASON, the category here for Kant is that of COMMUNITAS (community) or RECIPROCITAS, reciprocity. He seems to be suggesting that if you turn to the right or to the left, you are reciprocally forbidden to keep on going straight. For the modus, similar. Here Kant is into modality. Again, it is best to re-order the scenarios in terms of priority. Here it’s the middle which is basic. The first scenario, subject utters an ASSERTORIC. The category is a pair: EXISTENCE (how is this different from REALITY) and NON-EXISTENCE (how is this different from negation?). He has in mind: ‘the cat is in the room,’ ‘the room is empty.’ Second scenario, the subject doubts. subject utters a problematical. (“The pillar box may be red”). Here we have a category pair: POSSIBILITIAS (possibility) and, yes, IMPOSSIBILITAS – IMPOSSIBILITY. This is odd, because ‘impossibility’ goes rather with the negation of necessity. The third and last scenario, subject utters an APODEICTIC. Here again there is a category pair – yielding 17 as the final number --: NECESSITAS, necessity, and guess what, CONTINGENTIA, or contingency. Surely, possibilitas and contingentia are almost the same thing. It may be what Grice has in mind when he blames a philosopher to state that ‘what is actual is not also possible.’ Or not. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Gilbert Ryle’s criticism of Ariskant’s categories,” Ryle, “Categories.” “The nisnamed categories.” Ryle notes that when it comes to ‘relatio,’ Kant just murders Aristotle’s idea of a ‘relation’ as in higher than, or smaller than. – “His idea of the molecular propositions has nothing to do with Aristotle’s ‘relation’ or ‘pros ti.’”

super-knowing. In WoW. A notion Grice detested. Grice, “I detest superknowing.” “For that reason, I propose a closure clause – for a communicatum to count as one, there should not be any sneaky intention.” The use of ‘super’ is Plotinian. If God is super-good, he is not good. If someobody superknows, he doesn’t know. This is an implicaturum. Surely it is cancellable: “God is supergood; therefore, He is good.” “Smith superknows that p; therefore, Smith, as per a semantic entailment, knows that p.” Grice: “The implicature arise out of the postulate of conversational fortitude: why stop at knowing if you can claim that Smith superknows? Why say that God is love, when He is super-love?”

subjectum – Grecian hypokeimenon – Grice’s ‘implying,’ qua nominalization, is a category shift, a subjectification, or objectificiation. – We have ‘employ,’ ‘imply,’ and then ‘implication,’ ‘implicature, and ‘implying’ Using the participles, we have the active voice present implicans, the active voice future, implicaturum, and the passive perfect ‘impicatum.’ subjectivism, any philosophical view that attempts to understand in a subjective manner what at first glance would seem to be a class of judgments that are objectively either true or false  i.e., true or false independently of what we believe, want, or hope. There are two ways of being a subjectivist. In the first way, one can say that the judgments in question, despite first appearances, are really judgments about our own attitudes, beliefs, emotions, etc. In the second way, one can deny that the judgments are true or false at all, arguing instead that they are disguised commands or expressions of attitudes. In ethics, for example, a subjective view of the second sort is that moral judgments are simply expressions of our positive and negative attitudes. This is emotivism. Prescriptivism is also a subjective view of the second sort; it is the view that moral judgments are really commands  to say “X is good” is to say, details aside, “Do X.” Views that make morality ultimately a matter of conventions or what we or most people agree to can also be construed as subjective theories, albeit of the first type. Subjectivism is not limited to ethics, however. According to a subjective view of epistemic rationality, the standards of rational belief are the standards that the individual or perhaps most members in the individual’s community would approve of insofar as they are interested in believing those propositions that are true and not believing those propositions that are false. Similarly, phenomenalists can be regarded as proposing a subjective account of material object statements, since according to them, such statements are best understood as complex statements about the course of our experiences. 

the subiectum-obiectum-abiectumm-exiectum quartet: Grice: subject-object dichotomy, the distinction between thinkers and what they think about. The distinction is not exclusive, since subjects can also be objects, as in reflexive self-conscious thought, which takes the subject as its intended object. The dichotomy also need not be an exhaustive distinction in the strong sense that everything is either a subject or an object, since in a logically possible world in which there are no thinkers, there may yet be mind-independent things that are neither subjects nor objects. Whether there are non-thinking things that are not objects of thought in the actual world depends on whether or not it is sufficient in logic to intend every individual thing by such thoughts and expressions as ‘We can think of everything that exists’. The dichotomy is an interimplicative distinction between thinkers and what they think about, in which each presupposes the other. If there are no subjects, then neither are there objects in the true sense, and conversely. A subjectobject dichotomy is acknowledged in most Western philosophical traditions, but emphasized especially in Continental philosophy, beginning with Kant, and carrying through idealist thought in Fichte, Schelling, Hegel, and Schopenhauer. It is also prominent in intentionalist philosophy, in the empirical psychology of Brentano, the object theory of Meinong, Ernst Mally, and Twardowski, and the transcendental phenomenology of Husserl. Subjectobject dichotomy is denied by certain mysticisms, renounced as the philosophical fiction of duality, of which Cartesian mindbody dualism is a particular instance, and criticized by mystics as a confusion that prevents mind from recognizing its essential oneness with the world, thereby contributing to unnecessary intellectual and moral dilemmas.

sub-lime, neuter.  sublīmie (collat. form sublīmus , a, um: ex sublimo vertice, Cic. poët. Tusc. 2, 7, 19; Enn. ap. Non. 169; Att. and Sall. ib. 489, 8 sq.; Lucr. 1, 340), adj. etym. dub.; perh. sub-limen, up to the lintel; cf. sublimen (sublimem est in altitudinem elatum, Fest. p. 306 Müll.), I.uplifted, high, lofty, exalted, elevated (mostly poet. and in postAug. prose; not in Cic. or Cæs.; syn.: editus, arduus, celsus, altus). I. Lit. A. In gen., high, lofty: “hic vertex nobis semper sublimis,” Verg. G. 1, 242; cf. Hor. C. 1, 1, 36: “montis cacumen,” Ov. M. 1, 666: “tectum,” id. ib. 14, 752: “columna,” id. ib. 2, 1: “atrium,” Hor. C. 3, 1, 46: “arcus (Iridis),” Plin. 2, 59, 60, § 151: “portae,” Verg. A. 12, 133: “nemus,” Luc. 3, 86 et saep.: os, directed upwards (opp. to pronus), Ov. M. 1, 85; cf. id. ib. 15, 673; Hor. A. P. 457: “flagellum,” uplifted, id. C. 3, 26, 11: “armenta,” Col. 3, 8: “currus,” Liv. 28, 9.—Comp.: “quanto sublimior Atlas Omnibus in Libyā sit montibus,” Juv. 11, 24.—Sup.: “triumphans in illo sublimissimo curru,” Tert. Apol. 33.— B. Esp., borne aloft, uplifted, elevated, raised: “rapite sublimem foras,” Plaut. Mil. 5, 1: “sublimem aliquem rapere (arripere, auferre, ferre),” id. As. 5, 2, 18; id. Men. 5, 7, 3; 5, 7, 6; 5, 7, 13; 5, 8, 3; Ter. And. 5, 2, 20; id. Ad. 3, 2, 18; Verg. A. 5, 255; 11, 722 (in all these passages others read sublimen, q. v.); Ov. M 4, 363 al.: “campi armis sublimibus ardent,” borne aloft, lofty, Verg. A. 11, 602: sublimes in equis redeunt, id. ib. 7, 285: “apparet liquido sublimis in aëre Nisus,” id. G. 1, 404; cf.: “ipsa (Venus) Paphum sublimis abit,” on high through the air, id. A. 1, 415: “sublimis abit,” Liv. 1, 16; 1, 34: “vehitur,” Ov. M. 5, 648 al.— C. On high, lofty, in a high position: “tenuem texens sublimis aranea telum,” Cat. 68, 49: “juvenem sublimem stramine ponunt,” Verg. A. 11, 67: “sedens solio sublimis avito,” Ov. M. 6, 650: “Tyrio jaceat sublimis in ostro,” id. H. 12, 179.— D. Subst.: sublīme , is, n., height; sometimes to be rendered the air: “piro per lusum in sublime jactato,” Suet. Claud. 27; so, in sublime, Auct. B. Afr. 84, 1; Plin. 10, 38, 54, § 112; 31, 6, 31, § 57: “per sublime volantes grues,” id. 18, 35, 87, § 362: “in sublimi posita facies Dianae,” id. 36, 5, 4, § 13: “ex sublimi devoluti,” id. 27, 12, 105, § 129.—Plur.: “antiquique memor metuit sublimia casus,” Ov. M. 8, 259: “per maria ac terras sublimaque caeli,” Lucr. 1, 340.— II. Trop., lofty, exalted, eminent, distinguished. A. In gen.: “antiqui reges ac sublimes viri,” Varr. R. R. 2, 4, 9; cf. Luc. 10, 378: “mens,” Ov. P. 3, 3, 103: “pectora,” id. F. 1, 301: “nomen,” id. Tr. 4, 10, 121: “sublimis, cupidusque et amata relinquere pernix,” aspiring, Hor. A. P. 165; cf.: “nil parvum sapias et adhuc sublimia cures,” id. Ep. 1, 12, 15.—Comp.: “quā claritate nihil in rebus humanis sublimius duco,” Plin. 22, 5, 5, § 10; Juv. 8, 232.—Sup.: “sancimus supponi duos sublimissimos judices,” Cod. Just. 7, 62, 39.— B. In partic., of language, lofty, elevated, sublime (freq. in Quint.): “sublimia carmina,” Juv. 7, 28: “verbum,” Quint. 8, 3, 18: “clara et sublimia verba,” id. ib.: “oratio,” id. 8, 3, 74: “genus dicendi,” id. 11, 1, 3: “actio (opp. causae summissae),” id. 11, 3, 153: “si quis sublimia humilibus misceat,” id. 8, 3, 60 et saep.—Transf., of orators, poets, etc.: “natura sublimis et acer,” Hor. Ep. 2, 1, 165: “sublimis et gravis et grandiloquus (Aeschylus),” Quint. 10, 1, 66: “Trachalus plerumque sublimis,” id. 10, 1, 119.—Comp.: “sublimior gravitas Sophoclis,” Quint. 10, 1, 68: “sublimius aliquid,” id. 8, 3, 14: “jam sublimius illud pro Archiā, Saxa atque solitudines voci respondent,” id. 8, 3, 75.—Hence, advv. 1. Lit., aloft, loftily, on high. (α). Form sub-līmĭter (rare ): “stare,” upright, Cato, R. R. 70, 2; so id. ib. 71: “volitare,” Col. 8, 11, 1: “munitur locus,” id. 8, 15, 1.— (β). Form sub-līme (class. ): “Theodori nihil interest, humine an sublime putescat,” Cic. Tusc. 1, 43, 102; cf.: “scuta, quae fuerant sublime fixa, sunt humi inventa,” id. Div. 2, 31, 67: “volare,” Lucr. 2, 206; 6, 97: “ferri,” Cic. Tusc. 1, 17, 40; id. N. D. 2, 39, 101; 2, 56, 141 Orell. N. cr.: “elati,” Liv. 21, 30: “expulsa,” Verg. G. 1, 320 et saep.— b. Comp.: “sublimius altum Attollit caput,” Ov. Hal. 69.— 2. Trop., of speech, in a lofty manner, loftily (very rare): “alia sublimius, alia gravius esse dicenda,” Quint. 9, 4, 130.

Grice’s favoured translation of Grecian ‘hypsos’ -- a feeling brought about by objects that are infinitely large or vast such as the heavens or the ocean or overwhelmingly powerful such as a raging torrent, huge mountains, or precipices. The former in Kant’s terminology is the mathematically sublime and the latter the dynamically sublime. Though the experience of the sublime is to an important extent unpleasant, it is also accompanied by a certain pleasure: we enjoy the feeling of being overwhelmed. On Kant’s view, this pleasure results from an awareness that we have powers of reason that are not dependent on sensation, but that legislate over sense. The sublime thus displays both the limitations of sense experience and hence our feeling of displeasure and the power of our own mind and hence the feeling of pleasure. The sublime was an especially important concept in the aesthetic theory of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Reflection on it was stimulated by the appearance of a translation of Longinus’s Peri hypsous On the Sublime in 1674. The “postmodern sublime” has in addition emerged in late twentieth century thought as a basis for raising questions about art. Whereas beauty is associated with that whose form can be apprehended, the sublime is associated with the formless, that which is “unpresentable” in sensation. Thus, it is connected with critiques of “the aesthetic”  understood as that which is sensuously present  as a way of understanding what is important about art. It has also been given a political reading, where the sublime connects with resistance to rule, and beauty connects with conservative acceptance of existing forms or structures of society. 

sub-sidiarium -- subsidiarity, a basic principle of social order and the common good governing the relations between the higher and lower associations in a political community. Positively, the principle of subsidiarity holds that the common good, i.e., the ensemble of social resources and institutions that facilitate human self-realization, depends on fostering the free, creative initiatives of individuals and of their voluntary associations; thus, the state, in addition to its direct role in maintaining public good which comprises justice, public peace, and public morality also has an indirect role in promoting other aspects of the common good by rendering assistance subsidium to those individuals and associations whose activities facilitate cooperative human self-realization in work, play, the arts, sciences, and religion. Negatively, the principle of subsidiarity holds that higher-level i.e., more comprehensive associations  while they must monitor, regulate, and coordinate  ought not to absorb, replace, or undermine the free initiatives and activities of lower-level associations and individuals insofar as these are not contrary to the common good. This presumption favoring free individual and social initiative has been defended on various grounds, such as the inefficiency of burdening the state with myriad local concerns, as well as the corresponding efficiency of unleashing the free, creative potential of subordinate groups and individuals who build up the shared economic, scientific, and artistic resources of society. But the deeper ground for this presumption is the view subjunctive conditional subsidiarity 886   886 that human flourishing depends crucially on freedom for individual self-direction and for the self-government of voluntary associations and that human beings flourish best through their own personal and cooperative initiatives rather than as the passive consumers or beneficiaries of the initiatives of others. 

sub-sistum -- subsistence translation of G. Bestand, in current philosophy, especially Meinong’s system, the kind of being that belongs to “ideal” objects such as mathematical objects, states of affairs, and abstractions like similarity and difference. By contrast, the kind of being that belongs to “real” wirklich objects, things of the sorts investigated by the sciences other than psychology and pure mathematics, is called existence Existenz. Existence and subsistence together exhaust the realm of being Sein. So, e.g., the subsistent ideal figures whose properties are investigated by geometers do not exist  they are nowhere to be found in the real world  but it is no less true of them that they have being than it is of an existent physical object: there are such figures. Being does not, however, exhaust the realm of objects or things. The psychological phenomenon of intentionality shows that there are in some sense of ‘there are’ objects that neither exist nor subsist. Every intentional state is directed toward an object. Although one may covet the Hope Diamond or desire the unification of Europe, one may also covet a non-existent material object or desire a non-subsistent state of affairs. If one covets a non-existent diamond, there is in some sense of ‘there is’ something that one covets  one’s state of mind has an object  and it has certain properties: it is, e.g., a diamond. It may therefore be said to inhabit the realm of Sosein ‘being thus’ or ‘predication’ or ‘having properties’, which is the category comprising the totality of objects. Objects that do not have any sort of being, either existence or subsistence, belong to non-being Nichtsein. In general, the properties of an object do not determine whether it has being or non-being. But there are special cases: the round square, by its very nature, cannot subsist. Meinong thus maintains that objecthood is ausserseiend, i.e., independent of both existence and subsistence.

sub-statum: hypoeinai, hypostasis, hypokemeinon -- substantia – Grice: “The Romans never felt the need for the word ‘substantia’ but trust Cicero to force them to use it!” -- Grice lectured on this with J. L. Austin and P. F. Strawson. hypousia -- as defined by Aristotle in the Categories, that which is neither predicable “sayable” of anything nor present in anything as an aspect or property of it. The examples he gives are an individual man and an individual horse. We can predicate being a horse of something but not a horse; nor is a horse in something else. He also held that only substances can remain self-identical through change. All other things are accidents of substances and exist only as aspects, properties, or relations of substances, or kinds of substances, which Aristotle called secondary substances. An example of an accident would be the color of an individual man, and an example of a secondary substance would be his being a man. For Locke, a substance is that part of an individual thing in which its properties inhere. Since we can observe, indeed know, only a thing’s properties, its substance is unknowable. Locke’s sense is obviously rooted in Aristotle’s but the latter carries no skeptical implications. In fact, Locke’s sense is closer in meaning to what Aristotle calls matter, and would be better regarded as a synonym of ‘substratum’, as indeed it is by Locke. Substance may also be conceived as that which is capable of existing independently of anything else. This sense is also rooted in Aristotle’s, but, understood quite strictly, leads to Spinoza’s view that there can be only one substance, namely, the totality of reality or God. A fourth sense of ‘substance’ is the common, ordinary sense, ‘what a thing is made of’. This sense is related to Locke’s, but lacks the latter’s skeptical implications. It also corresponds to what Aristotle meant by matter, at least proximate matter, e.g., the bronze of a bronze statue Aristotle analyzes individual things as composites of matter and form. This notion of matter, or stuff, has great philosophical importance, because it expresses an idea crucial to both our ordinary and our scientific understandings of the world. Philosophers such as Hume who deny the existence of substances hold that individual things are mere bundles of properties, namely, the properties ordinarily attributed to them, and usually hold that they are incapable of change; they are series of momentary events, rather than things enduring through time. 

substantialism, the view that the primary, most fundamental entities are substances, everything else being dependent for its existence on them, either as a property of them or a relation between them. Different versions of the view would correspond to the different senses of the word ‘substance’. 

Potts: English philosopher, tutee of H. P. Grice. Semanticist of the best order! Structures and Categories for the Representation of Meaning T.C. Potts. Potts, alla Grice, addresses the representation problem ... how best to represent the meanings of linguistic expressions... One might call this the 'semantic form' of expressions (p. xi, italics in the original). The book begins with "three chapters in which I survey the contributions made by linguistics, logic and computer science respectively to the representation of meaning" (p. xii). These three chapters are not easy to understand, principally because of Potts's obtuse style, an example of which is that instead of saying "'either P or Q' is false if 'P' and 'Q' are both false; otherwise, it is true," he says, "we lay down that a proposition having the structure represented by 'either P or Q' is to be accounted false if a false proposition is substituted for 'P' and a false proposition for 'Q', but is otherwise to be accounted true" (p. 53). These chapters are also outdated. In particular, the chapter on computer science, discussing the work of researchers whose goals are the closest to Potts's own stated goals, is mainly a review of work as of the seventies. There are citations to several of the papers in Findler (1979), but only three to more recent research publications: Hayes (1980), Sowa (1984), and Hobbs and Shieber (1987). Perhaps the most valuable aspect of these three chapters is Potts's criticisms of some of the work he surveys. Of course, some of the problems noted have been corrected in literature that Potts hasn't yet got around to reading. By the end of the three survey chapters, Potts has introduced two techniques that he 427  Computational Linguistics Volume 21, Number 3 then develops into his own representation-- categorial grammars and graphs as representation formalisms. He takes the categorial analysis to be the prior of the two, with his graphs, which he calls categorialgraphs, being the clearer representation of sentence meaning. Unfortunately, "formalism" and "clearer" must be taken with a grain of salt. Potts never formally defines his categorial graphs, let alone gives a formal semantics for them. Although I have had extensive experience reading, interpreting, and devising graphical representations of meaning, I could not understand the details of Potts's graphs. But then, neither, apparently, can he: "The relationship between semantic and syntactic structures has not been spelled out, so that it is not fully determinate what our semantic representations represent at the syntactic level" (p. 168). The four substantive chapters are useful for the linguistic issues that they address, even if they are not useful for the representation scheme that they develop. These issues, which must eventually be faced by all knowledge representation formalisms that aspire to complete coverage of natural language include: quantifier scope; pronouns; relative clauses; count nouns, substance nouns, and proper names; generic propositions; deictic terms; plurals; identity; and adverbs. Appropriately, the book does not end on a note of claimed accomplishment, but on a note of work yet to do: "The purpose of a philosophical book is to stimulate thought, not to put it to rest with solutions to every problem ... It is still premature to formulate a graph grammar for semantic representation of everyday language... The representation problem is commonly not accorded the respect which it deserves" (p. 288). Many people agree, and have, accordingly, produced a vast literature that Potts is apparently not familiar with. (Some relevant collections are Cercone and McCalla 1987, Sowa 1991, and Lehmann 1992.) Nevertheless, Potts is still correct when he suggests that there is much work left to do.--Stuart C. Shapiro, State University of New York at Buffalo References Cercone, Nick and McCalla, Gordon (editors) (1987). The Knowledge Frontier: Essays in the Representation of Knowledge. Springer-Verlag. Findler, Nicholas V. (editor) (1979). Associative Networks: The Representation and Use of Knowledge in Computers. Academic Press. Hayes, Patrick J. (1980). "The logic of frames." In Frame Conceptions and Text Understanding, edited by Dieter Metzing, 46-61. de Gruyter, 1980. Also in Readings in Knowledge Representation, edited by Ronald J. Brachman and Hector J. Levesque, 287-295. Morgan Kaufmann. 1985. Hobbs, Jerry R., and Shieber, Stuart M. (1987). "An algorithm for generating quantifier scopings." Computational Linguistics, 13(1-2), 47-63. Lehmann, Fritz (editor) (1992). Semantic Networks in Artificial Intelligence. Pergamon Press. Sowa, John E (1984). Conceptual Structures. Addison-Wesley. Sowa, John F. (editor) (1991). Principles of Semantic Networks: Explorations in the Representation of Knowledge. Morgan Kaufmann. Refs.: Luigi Speranza, “Potts at Villa Grice.”

The salva-veritate/salva-congruitate distinction:  The phrase occurs in two fragments from Gottfried Leibniz's General Science. Characteristics:  In Chapter 19, Definition 1, Leibniz writes: "Two terms are the same (eadem) if one can be substituted for the other without altering the truth of any statement (salva veritate)." In Chapter 20, Definition 1, Leibniz writes: "Terms which can be substituted for one another wherever we please without altering the truth of any statement (salva veritate), are the same (eadem) or coincident (coincidentia). For example, 'triangle' and 'trilateral', for in every proposition demonstrated by Euclid concerning 'triangle', 'trilateral' can be substituted without loss of truth (salva veritate)." ubstitutivity salva veritate: Grice: “The phrase ‘salva veritate’ has been used at Oxford for years, Kneale tells me!” -- a condition met by two expressions when one is substitutable for the other at a certain occurrence in a sentence and the truth-value truth or falsity of the sentence is necessarily unchanged when the substitution is made. In such a case the two expressions are said to exhibit substitutivity or substitutability salva veritate literally, ‘with truth saved’ with respect to one another in that context. The expressions are also said to be interchangeable or intersubstitutable salva veritate in that context. Where it is obvious from a given discussion that it is the truth-value that is to be preserved, it may be said that the one expression is substitutable for the other or exhibits substitutability with respect to the other at that place. Leibniz proposed to use the universal interchangeability salva veritate of two terms in every “proposition” in which they occur as a necessary and sufficient condition for identity  presumably for the identity of the things denoted by the terms. There are apparent exceptions to this criterion, as Leibniz himself noted. If a sentence occurs in a context governed by a psychological verb such as ‘believe’ or ‘desire’, by an expression conveying modality e.g., ‘necessarily’, ‘possibly’, or by certain temporal expressions such as ‘it will soon be the case that’, then two terms may denote the same thing but not be interchangeable within such a sentence. Occurrences of expressions within quotation marks or where the expressions are both mentioned and used cf. Quine’s example, “Giorgione was so-called because of his size” also exhibit failure of substitutivity. Frege urged that such failures are to be explained by the fact that within such contexts an expression does not have its ordinary denotation but denotes instead either its usual sense or the expression itself. Salva congruitate From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia Jump to navigationJump to search Salva congruitate[1] is a Latin scholastic term in logic, which means "without becoming ill-formed",[2] salva meaning rescue, salvation, welfare and congruitate meaning combine, coincide, agree. Salva Congruitate is used in logic to mean that two terms may be substituted for each other while preserving grammaticality in all contexts.[3][4]   Contents 1 Remarks on salva congruitate 1.1 Timothy C. Potts 1.2 Bob Hale 2See also 3References Remarks on salva congruitate Timothy C. Potts Timothy C. Potts describes salva congruitate as a form of replacement in the context of meaning. It is a replacement which preserves semantic coherence and should be distinguished from a replacement which preserves syntactic coherence but may yield an expression to which no meaning has been given. This means that supposing an original expression is meaningful, the new expression obtained by the replacement will also be meaningful, though it will not necessarily have the same meaning as the original one, nor, if the expression in question happens to be a proposition, will the replacement necessarily preserve the truth value of the original.[5]  Bob Hale Bob Hale explains salva congruitate, as applied to singular terms, as substantival expressions in natural language, which are able to replace singular terms without destructive effect on the grammar of a sentence.[6] Thus the singular term 'Bob' may be replaced by the definite description 'the first man to swim the English Channel' salva congruitate. Such replacement may shift both meaning and reference, and so, if made in the context of a sentence, may cause a change in truth-value. Thus terms which may be interchanged salva congruitate may not be interchangeable salva veritate (preserving truth). More generally, expressions of any type are interchangeable salva congruitate if and only if they can replace one another preserving grammaticality or well-formedness.  See also Salva veritate Reference principle Referential opacity Crispin Wright Peter Geach References  W.V.O. Quine, Philosophy of logic  Dr. Benjamin Schnieder, Canonical Property Designators, P9  W.V.O. Quine, Quiddities, P204  W.V.O. Quine, Philosophy of Logic, P18  Timothy C. Potts, Structures and categories for the representation of meaning, p57  Bob Hale, Singular Terms, P34 Categories: Concepts in logicPhilosophical logicPhilosophy of languageLatin logical phrases. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Implicaturum salva veritate,” H. P. Grice, “What I learned from T. C. Potts.” – T. C. Potts, “My tutorials with Grice at St. John’s.”

summum bonum: Grice: “that in relation to which all other things have at most instrumental value value only insofar as they are productive of what is the highest good. Philosophical conceptions of the summum bonum have for the most part been teleological in character. That is, they have identified the highest good in terms of some goal or goals that human beings, it is supposed, pursue by their very nature. These natural goals or ends have differed considerably. For the theist, this end is God; for the rationalist, it is the rational comprehension of what is real; for hedonism, it is pleasure; etc. The highest good, however, need not be teleologically construed. It may simply be posited, or supposed, that it is known, through some intuitive process, that a certain type of thing is “intrinsically good.” On such a view, the relevant contrast is not so much between what is good as an end and what is good as a means to this end, as between what is good purely in itself and what is good only in combination with certain other elements the “extrinsically good”. Perhaps the best example of such a view of the highest good would be the position of Moore. Must the summum bonum be just one thing, or one kind of thing? Yes, to this extent: although one could certainly combine pluralism the view that there are many, irreducibly different goods with an assertion that the summum bonum is “complex,” the notion of the highest good has typically been the province of monists believers in a single good, not pluralists.

Urmson’s super-erogation: ‘super-erogatum --. 1520s, "performance of more than duty requires," in Catholic theology, from Late Latin supererogationem (nominative supererogatio) "a payment in addition," noun of action from past participle stem of supererogare "pay or do additionally," from Latin super "above, over" (see super-) + erogare "pay out," from ex "out" (see ex-) + rogare "ask, request," apparently a figurative use of a PIE verb meaning literally "to stretch out (the hand)," from root *reg- "move in a straight line." Grice got interested in this thanks to J. O. Urmson who discussed his ‘saints and heroes’ with the Saturday morning kindergarten held by Austin -- the property of going beyond the call of duty. Supererogatory actions are sometimes equated with actions that are morally good in the sense that they are encouraged by morality but not required by it. Sometimes they are equated with morally commendable actions, i.e., actions that indicate a superior moral character. It is quite common for morally good actions to be morally commendable and vice versa, so that it is not surprising that these two kinds of supererogatory actions are not clearly distinguished even though they are quite distinct. Certain kinds of actions are not normally considered to be morally required, e.g., giving to charity, though morality certainly encourages doing them. However, if one is wealthy and gives only a small amount to charity, then, although one’s act is supererogatory in the sense of being morally good, it is not supererogatory in the sense of being morally commendable, for it does not indicate a superior moral character. Certain kinds of actions are normally morally required, e.g., keeping one’s promises. However, when the harm or risk of harm of keeping one’s promise is sufficiently great compared to the harm caused by breaking the promise to excuse breaking the promise, then keeping one’s promise counts as a supererogatory act in the sense of being morally commendable. Some versions of consequentialism claim that everyone is always morally required to act so as to bring about the best consequences. On such a theory there are no actions that are morally encouraged but not required; thus, for those holding such theories, if there are supererogatory acts, they must be morally commendable. Many versions of non-consequentialism also fail to provide for acts that are morally encouraged but not morally required; thus, if they allow for supererogatory acts, they must regard them as morally required acts done at such significant personal cost that one might be excused for not doing them. The view that all actions are either morally required, morally prohibited, or morally indifferent makes it impossible to secure a place for supererogatory acts in the sense of morally good acts. This view that there are no acts that are morally encouraged but not morally required may be the result of misleading terminology. Both Kant and Mill distinguish between duties of perfect obligation and duties of imperfect obligation, acknowledging that a duty of imperfect obligation does not specify any particular act that one is morally required to do. However, since they use the term ‘duty’ it is very easy to view all acts falling under these “duties” as being morally required. One way of avoiding the view that all morally encouraged acts are morally required is to avoid the common philosophical misuse of the term ‘duty’. One can replace ‘duties of perfect obligation’ with ‘actions required by moral rules’ and ‘duties of imperfect obligation’ with ‘actions encouraged by moral ideals’. However, a theory that includes the kinds of acts that are supererogatory in the sense of being morally good has to distinguish between that sense of ‘supererogatory’ and the sense meaning ‘morally commendable’, i.e., indicating a superior moral character in the agent. For as pointed out above, not all morally good acts are morally commendable, nor are all morally commendable acts morally good, even though a particular act may be supererogatory in both senses. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Urmson’s supererogation,” H. P. Grice, “Urmson no saint, hero perhaps –.” H. P. Grice, “Urmson, my hero.”

Hareian supervenience: a dependence relation between properties or facts of one type, and properties or facts of another type. In the other place, G. E. Moore, for instance, holds that the property intrinsic value is dependent in the relevant way on certain non-moral properties. Moore did not employ the expression ‘supervenience’. As Moore puts it, “if a given thing possesses any kind of intrinsic value in a certain degree,  not only must that same thing possess it, under all circumstances, in the same degree, but also anything exactly like it, must, under all circumstances, possess it in exactly the same degree” (Philosophical Studies, 2). The concept of supervenience, as a relation between properties, is essentially this: A poperties of type A is supervenient (or better, as Grice prefesrs, supervenes) on a property of type B if and only if two objects cannot differ with respect to their A-properties without also differing with respect to their B-properties. Properties that allegedly are supervenient on others are often called consequential properties, especially in ethics; the idea is that if something instantiates a moral property, then it does so in virtue of, i.e., as a non-causal consequence of, instantiating some lower-level property on which the moral property supervenes. In another, related sense, supervenience is a feature of discourse of one type, vis-à-vis discourse of another type. ‘Supervenience’ is so used by Hare. “First, let us take that characteristic of “good” which has been called its ‘supervenience.’” Grice: “Hare has a good ear for the neologism: he loved my ‘implicature,’ and used in an essay he submitted to “Mind,” way before I ventured to publish the thing!” – “Suppose that we say, “St. Francis is a good man.” It is logically impossible to say this and to maintain at the same time that there might have been another man placed exactly in the same circumstances as St. Francis, and who behaved in exactly the same way, but who differed from St. Francis in this respect only, that it is NOT the case that this man is a good man.” (“The Language of Morals”). Here the idea is that it would be a misuse of moral language, a violation of the “logic of moral discourse,” to apply ‘good’ to one thing but not to something else exactly similar in all pertinent non-moral respects. Hare is a meta-ethical irrealist. He denies that there are moral properties or facts. So for him, supervenience is a ‘category of expression,’ a feature of discourse and judgment, not a relation between properties or facts of two types. The notion of supervenience has come to be used quite widely in metaphysics and philosophical philosophy, usually in the way explained above. This use is heralded by Davidson in articulating a position about the relation between a physical property and a property of the ‘soul,’ or statet-ypes, that eschews the reducibility of mental properties to physical ones. “Although the position I describe denies there are psycho-physical laws, it is consistent with the view that mental characteristics are in some sense dependent, or supervenient, or plainly supervene on physical characteristics. Such supervenience might be taken to mean that there cannot be two events alike in all physical respects but differing in some mental respects, or that an object cannot alter in some mental respects without altering in some physical respects. Dependence or supervenience of this kind does not entail reducibility through law or definition. “Mental Events.” A variety of supervenience theses have been propounded in metaphysics and philosophical psychology, usually although not always in conjunction with attempts to formulate metaphysical positions that are naturalistic, in some way, without being strongly reductionistic, if reductive. E. g. it is often asserted that mental properties and facts are supervenient on neurobiological properties, and/or on physicochemical properties and facts. And it is often claimed, more generally, that all properties and facts are supervenient on the properties and facts of the kind described by physics. Much attention has been directed at how to formulate the desired supervenience theses, and thus how to characterize supervenience itself. A distinction has been drawn between weak supervenience, asserting that in any single possible world w, any two individuals in w that differ in their A-properties also differ in their B-properties; and strong supervenience, asserting that for any two individuals i and j, either within a single possible world or in two distinct ones, if i and j differ in A-properties then they also differ in Bproperties. It is sometimes alleged that traditional formulations of supervenience, like Moore’s or Hare’s, articulate only weak supervenience, whereas strong supervenience is needed to express the relevant kind of determination or dependence. It is sometimes replied, however, that the traditional natural-language formulations do in fact express strong supervenience  and that formalizations expressing mere weak supervenience are mistranslations. Questions about how best to formulate supervenience theses also arise in connection with intrinsic and non-intrinsic properties. For instance, the property being a bank, instantiated by the brick building on Main Street, is not supervenient on intrinsic physical properties of the building itself; rather, the building’s having this social-institutional property depends on a considerably broader range of facts and features, some of which are involved in subserving the social practice of banking. The term ‘supervenience base’ is frequently used to denote the range of entities and happenings whose lowerlevel properties and relations jointly underlie the instantiation of some higher-level property like being a bank by some individual like the brick building on Main Street. Supervenience theses are sometimes formulated so as to smoothly accommodate properties and facts with broad supervenience bases. For instance, the idea that the physical facts determine all the facts is sometimes expressed as global supervenience, which asserts that any two physically possible worlds differing in some respect also differ in some physical respect. Or, sometimes this idea is expressed as the stronger thesis of regional supervenience, which asserts that for any two spatiotemporal regions r and s, either within a single physically possible world or in two distinct ones, if r and s differ in some intrinsic respect then they also differ in some intrinsic physical respect. H. P. Grice, “Hare on supervenience.” H. P. Grice, “Supervenience in my method in philosophical psychology: from the banal to the bizarre.” H. P. Grice, “Supervenience and the devil of scientism.”

sub-positum, suppositum – (literally, ‘sub-positum,’) -- cf. presuppositum -- in the Middle Ages, reference. The theory of supposition, the central notion in the theory of proprietates terminorum, was developed in the twelfth century, and was refined and discussed into early modern times. It has two parts their names are a modern convenience. 1 The theory of supposition proper. This typically divided suppositio into “personal” reference to individuals not necessarily to persons, despite the name, “simple” reference to species or genera, and “material” reference to spoken or written expressions. Thus ‘man’ in ‘Every man is an animal’ has personal supposition, in ‘Man is a species’ simple supposition, and in ‘Man is a monosyllable’ material supposition. The theory also included an account of how the range of a term’s reference is affected by tense and by modal factors. 2 The theory of “modes” of personal supposition. This part of supposition theory divided personal supposition typically into “discrete” ‘Socrates’ in ‘Socrates is a man’, “determinate” ‘man’ in ‘Some man is a Grecian’, “confused and distributive” ‘man’ in ‘Every man is an animal’, and “merely confused” ‘animal’ in ‘Every man is an animal’. The purpose of this second part of the theory is a matter of some dispute. By the late fourteenth century, it had in some authors become a theory of quantification. The term ‘suppositio’ was also used in the Middle Ages in the ordinary sense, to mean ‘assumption’, ‘hypothesis’. H. P. Grice, “Implicaturum, implicatum, positum, subpositum;” H. P. Grice: “A communicational analogy: explicatum/expositum:implicatum/impositum,” H. P. Grice, “The positum: between the sub-positum and the supra-positum,” H. P. Grice, “The implicaturum, the sous-entendu, and the sub-positum.”

more grice to the mill: SOUS-ENTENDU, -UE, part. passé, adj. et subst. masc. I. − Part. passé de sous-entendre*. A. − Empl. impers. Il est sous-entendu que + complét. à l'ind. Il est inutile de préciser que. Synon. il va sans dire que.Elle lui écrivit (...) que (...) elle aurait enfin, après avoir été si souvent reçue chez eux, le plaisir de les inviter à son tour. De lui, elle ne disait pas un mot, il était sous-entendu que leur présence excluait la sienne (Proust,Swann,1913, p. 301). B. − Empl. ell. à valeur de prop. part. Sous-entendu (inv., le locuteur suppléant ce qui n'est pas exprimé mais suggéré). Ce qui signifie par là (que). Mon cher Ami, Encore une! sous-entendu: demande de croix d'honneur (Flaub.,Corresp.,1871, p. 287). II. − Adjectif A. − Synon. implicite, tacite; anton. avoué, explicite, formulé. 1. Qu'on laisse entendre sans l'exprimer. Le lendemain, à table, mon mari me dit (je me demandai d'abord s'il n'y avait pas là quelque dessein sous-entendu): − Sais-tu ce que m'a annoncé Brassy? Gurgine a essayé de se tuer (Daniel-Rops,Mort,1934, p. 291). 2. Qui reste implicite. Je me rappelle (...) d'avoir lu dans la déclaration des droits de l'homme cette maxime sous-entendue dans tous les codes qu'on nous a donnés depuis: « Tout ce qui n'est pas défendu par la loi ne peut être empêché, et nul ne peut être contraint à faire ce qu'elle n'ordonne pas » (Bonald,Législ. primit.,t. 1, 1802, p. 152).Toute mélodie commence par une anacrouse exprimée ou sous-entendue (D'Indy,Compos. mus.,t. 1, 1897-1900, p. 35). B. − GRAMM. Qui n'est pas exprimé, mais que le sens ou la syntaxe pourrait suppléer aisément. Observez qu'ainsi est tantôt adverbe, tantôt conjonction. (...) Il est encore adverbe dans celle-ci [cette phrase], ainsi que la vertu, le crime a ses degrés; il signifie de la même manière. C'est que, qui est la conjonction qui lie ensemble la phrase exprimée, le crime a ses degrés, avec la phrase sous-entendue, la vertu a ses degrés (Destutt de Tr.,Idéol. 2,1803, p. 140).L'intelligence fait donc naturellement usage des rapports d'équivalent à équivalent, de contenu à contenant, de cause à effet, etc., qu'implique toute phrase, où il y a un sujet, un attribut, un verbe, exprimé ou sous-entendu (Bergson,Évol. créatr.,1907, p. 149). III. − Subst. masc. A. − Au sing. Comportement de celui qui sous-entend les choses sans les exprimer explicitement. C'est la plus immense personnalité que je connaisse [Zola], mais elle est toute dans le sous-entendu: l'homme ne parle pas de lui, mais toutes les théories, toutes les idées, toutes les logomachies qu'il émet combattent uniquement, à propos de tout et de n'importe quoi, en faveur de sa littérature et de son talent (Goncourt, Journal, 1883, p. 251). B. − P. méton. 1. Parfois péj. Ce qui est sous-entendu, insinué dans des propos ou dans un texte, ou p. ext., par un comportement. Synon. allusion, insinuation.Plus libre que ses confrères, il ne craignait pas, − bien timidement encore, avec des clignements d'yeux et des sous-entendus, − de fronder les gens en place (Rolland,J.-Chr.,Adolesc., 1905, p. 365). − Au sing. à valeur de neutre. Henry Céard a passé avec moi toute la journée, causant du roman qu'il fait, − et qu'il veut faire dans le gris, le voilé, le sous-entendu (Goncourt,, Journal1878, p. 1276). − En partic. Allusion grivoise. Les conversations fourmillaient d'allusions et de sous-entendus dont la grivoiserie me choquait (Beauvoir,Mém. j. fille,1958, p. 165). 2. Ce qui n'est pas exprimé explicitement. Synon. restriction, réticence.Personne ne dit: « Je suis », si ce n'est dans une certaine attitude très instable et généralement apprise, et on ne le dit alors qu'avec quantité de sous-entendus: il y faut parfois un long commentaire (Valéry, Variété IV,1938, p. 228). REM. Sous-entente, subst. fém.,vx. a) Action de sous-entendre par artifice; p. méton., ce qui est ainsi sous-entendu. Il ne parle jamais qu'il n'y ait quelque sous-entente à ce qu'il dit. Il y a quelque sous-entente à cela (Ac. 1798-1878). b) Gramm. Synon. de sous-entendu. (Ds Bally 1951). Prononc. et Orth.: [suzɑ ̃tɑ ̃dy]. Ac. 1694: sousentendu, -ue, 1718: sousentendu, -üe, dep. 1740: sous-entendu, -ue. Fréq. abs. littér.: 249. Fréq. rel. littér.: xixes.: a) 189, b) 230; xxes.: a) 480, b) 484. Bbg. Ducrot (O.). Le Dire et le dit. Paris, 1984, pp. 13-31. − Kerbrat-Orecchioni (C.). L'Énonciation. De la subjectivité ds le lang. Paris, 1980, 290 p., passim.

survival: discussed by Grice in what he calls the ‘genoritorial programme, where the philosopher posits himself as a creature-constructor. It’s an expository device that allows to ask questions in the third person, “seeing that we can thus avoid the so-called ‘first-person bias’” -- continued existence after one’s biological death. So understood, survival can pertain only to beings that are organisms at some time or other, not to beings that are disembodied at all times as angels are said to be or to beings that are embodied but never as organisms as might be said of computers. Theories that maintain that one’s individual consciousness is absorbed into a universal consciousness after death or that one continues to exist only through one’s descendants, insofar as they deny one’s own continued existence as an individual, are not theories of survival. Although survival does not entail immortality or anything about reward or punishment in an afterlife, many theories of survival incorporate these features. Theories about survival have expressed differing attitudes about the importance of the body. supervenient behaviorism survival 892   892 Some philosophers have maintained that persons cannot survive without their own bodies, typically espousing a doctrine of resurrection; such a view was held by Aquinas. Others, including the Pythagoreans, have believed that one can survive in other bodies, allowing for reincarnation into a body of the same species or even for transmigration into a body of another species. Some, including Plato and perhaps the Pythagoreans, have claimed that no body is necessary, and that survival is fully achieved by one’s escaping embodiment. There is a similar spectrum of opinion about the importance of one’s mental life. Some, such as Locke, have supposed that survival of the same person would require memory of one’s having experienced specific past events. Plato’s doctrine of recollection, in contrast, supposes that one can survive without any experiential memory; all that one typically is capable of recollecting are impersonal necessary truths. Philosophers have tested the relative importance of bodily versus mental factors by means of various thought experiments, of which the following is typical. Suppose that a person’s whole mental life  memories, skills, and character traits  were somehow duplicated into a data bank and erased from the person, leaving a living radical amnesiac. Suppose further that the person’s mental life were transcribed into another radically amnesiac body. Has the person survived, and if so, as whom? 

swedenborgianism: the theosophy professed by a worldwide movement established as the New Jerusalem Church in London by the followers of the philosopher Emanuel Swedenborg. Swedenborg fuses the rationalist Cartesian and empiricist Lockean legacies into a natural philosophy “Principia Rerum Naturalium,” that propounds the harmony of the mechanistic universe with biblical revelation. Inspired by Liebniz, Malebranche, Platonism, and Neoplatonism, Swedenborg unfolds a doctrine of correspondence, “A Hieroglyphic Key,” to account for the relation between body and soul and between the natural and spiritual worlds, and applied it to biblical exegesis. What attracts the wide following of the “Spirit-Seer” are his speculations in the line of Boehme and the mystical, prophetic tradition in which he excelled, as in Heavenly Arcana. Grice’s great uncle was a Swedenborgian.

swinburne: Grice: “Those Savoyards among us should never confuse Swinburne, parodied in “Patience,” and the Oxonian theologian – hardly an aesthete!” -- English philosopher of religion and of science. In philosophy of science, he has contributed to confirmation theory and to the philosophy of space and time. His work in philosophy of religion is the most ambitious project in philosophical theology undertaken by a British philosopher in the twentieth century. Its first part is a trilogy on the coherence and justification of theistic belief and the rationality of living by that belief: TheCoherence of Theism 7, The Existence of God 9, and Faith and Reason 1. Since 5, when Swinburne became Nolloth Professor of the Philosophy of the Christian Religion at the  of Oxford, he has written a tetralogy about some of the most central of the distinctively Christian religious doctrines: Responsibility and Atonement 9, Revelation 2, The Christian God 4, and Providence and the Problem of Evil 8. The most interesting feature of the trilogy is its contribution to natural theology. Using Bayesian reasoning, Swinburne builds a cumulative case for theism by arguing that its probability is raised sustaining cause Swinburne, Richard 893   893 by such things as the existence of the universe, its order, the existence of consciousness, human opportunities to do good, the pattern of history, evidence of miracles, and religious experience. The existence of evil does not count against the existence of God. On our total evidence theism is more probable than not. In the tetralogy he explicates and defends such Christian doctrines as original sin, the Atonement, Heaven, Hell, the Trinity, the Incarnation, and Providence. He also analyzes the grounds for supposing that some Christian doctrines are revealed truths, and argues for a Christian theodicy in response to the problem of evil. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Swinburne et moi.”

synaesthesia: cum-perceptum: co-sensibile – cum-sensibile – co-sensatio, co-sensation -- a conscious experience in which qualities normally associated with one sensory modality are or seem to be sensed in another. Examples include auditory and tactile visions such as “loud sunlight” and “soft moonlight” as well as visual bodily sensations such as “dark thoughts” and “bright smiles.” Two features of synaesthesia are of philosophic interest. First, the experience may be used to judge the appropriateness of sensory metaphors and similes, such as Baudelaire’s “sweet as oboes.” The metaphor is appropriate just when oboes sound sweet. Second, synaesthesia challenges the manner in which common sense distinguishes among the external senses. It is commonly acknowledged that taste, e.g., is not only unlike hearing, smell, or any other sense, but differs from them because taste involves gustatory rather than auditory experiences. In synaesthesia, however, one might taste sounds sweet-sounding oboes. G.A.G. syncategoremata, 1 in grammar, words that cannot serve by themselves as subjects or predicates of categorical propositions. The opposite is categoremata, words that can do this. For example, ‘and’, ‘if’, ‘every’, ‘because’, ‘insofar’, and ‘under’ are syncategorematic terms, whereas ‘dog’, ‘smooth’, and ‘sings’ are categorematic ones. This usage comes from the fifth-century Latin grammarian Priscian. It seems to have been the original way of drawing the distinction, and to have persisted through later periods along syllogism, demonstrative syncategoremata 896   896 with other usages described below. 2 In medieval logic from the twelfth century on, the distinction was drawn semantically. Categoremata are words that have a definite independent signification. Syncategoremata do not have any independent signification or, according to some authors, not a definite one anyway, but acquire a signification only when used in a proposition together with categoremata. The examples used above work here as well. 3 Medieval logic distinguished not only categorematic and syncategorematic words, but also categorematic and syncategorematic uses of a single word. The most important is the word ‘is’, which can be used both categorematically to make an existence claim ‘Socrates is’ in the sense ‘Socrates exists’ or syncategorematically as a copula ‘Socrates is a philosopher’. But other words were treated this way too. Thus ‘whole’ was said to be used syncategorematically as a kind of quantifier in ‘The whole surface is white’ from which it follows that each part of the surface is white, but categorematically in ‘The whole surface is two square feet in area’ from which it does not follow that each part of the surface is two square feet in area. 4 In medieval logic, again, syncategoremata were sometimes taken to include words that can serve by themselves as subjects or predicates of categorical propositions, but may interfere with standard logical inference patterns when they do. The most notorious example is the word ‘nothing’. If nothing is better than eternal bliss and tepid tea is better than nothing, still it does not follow by the transitivity of ‘better than’ that tepid tea is better than eternal bliss. Again, consider the verb ‘begins’. Everything red is colored, but not everything that begins to be red begins to be colored it might have been some other color earlier. Such words were classified as syncategorematic because an analysis called an expositio of propositions containing them reveals implicit syncategoremata in sense 1 or perhaps 2. Thus an analysis of ‘The apple begins to be red’ would include the claim that it was not red earlier, and ‘not’ is syncategorematic in both senses 1 and 2. 5 In modern logic, sense 2 is extended to apply to all logical symbols, not just to words in natural languages. In this usage, categoremata are also called “proper symbols” or “complete symbols,” while syncategoremata are called “improper symbols” or “incomplete symbols.” In the terminology of modern formal semantics, the meaning of categoremata is fixed by the models for the language, whereas the meaning of syncategoremata is fixed by specifying truth conditions for the various formulas of the language in terms of the models. H. P. Grice, “Implicatures of synaesthesia,” “Some remarks about the senses.”

syneidesis, conscientia -- synderesis: Grice disliked the word as a ‘barbarism.’ Grice: “synderesis was by most of us at the Playgroup reckoned to be a corruption of the Greician “συνείδησις” shared knowledge, literally ‘co-ideatio,’ formed from ‘syn’ and ‘eidesis,’ ‘co-vision,’ or conscience,  the corruption appearing in the medieval manuscripts of what Austin called ‘that ignorant saint,’ Jerome in his Commentary.” Douglas Kries in Traditio vol. 57: Origen, Plato, and Conscience (Synderesis) in Jerome's Ezekiel Commentary, p. 67. συνείδησις , εως, ἡ, A. Liddell and Scott render as “knowledge shared with another,” -- τῶν ἀλγημάτων (in a midwife) Sor.1.4. 2. communication, information, εὑρήσεις ς. PPar. p.422 (ii A.D.); “ς. εἰσήνεγκαν τοῖς κολλήγαις αὐτῶν” POxy. 123.13 (iii/iv A.D.). 3. knowledge, λῦε ταῦτα πάντα μὴ διαλείψας ἀγαθῇ ς. (v.l. ἀγαθῇ τύχῃ) Hp.Ep.1. 4. consciousness, awareness, [τῆς αὑτοῦ συστάσεως] Chrysipp.Stoic.3.43, cf. Phld.Rh.2.140 S., 2 Ep.Cor.4.2, 5.11, 1 Ep.Pet.2.19; “τῆς κακοπραγμοσύνης” Democr.297, cf. D.S.4.65, Ep.Hebr.10.2; “κατὰ συνείδησιν ἀτάραχοι διαμενοῦσι” Hero Bel.73; inner consciousness, “ἐν ς. σου βασιλέα μὴ καταράσῃ” LXX Ec. 10.20; in 1 Ep.Cor.8.7 συνειδήσει is f.l. for συνηθείᾳ. 5. consciousness of right or wrong doing, conscience, Periander and Bias ap. Stob.3.24.11,12, Luc.Am.49; ἐὰν ἐγκλήματός τινος ἔχῃ ς. Anon. Oxy.218 (a） ii 19; “βροτοῖς ἅπασιν ἡ ς. θεός” Men.Mon.654, cf. LXX Wi.17.11, D.H.Th.8 (but perh. interpol.); “ς. ἀγαθή” Act.Ap.23.1; ἀπρόσκοπος πρὸς τὸν θεόν ib.24.16; “καθαρά” 1 Ep.Ti.3.9, POsl.17.10 (ii A.D.); “κολαζομένους κατὰ συνείδησιν” Vett.Val.210.1; “θλειβομένη τῇ ς. περὶ ὧν ἐνοσφίσατο” PRyl.116.9 (ii A.D.); τὸν . . θεὸν κεχολωμένον ἔχοιτο καὶ τὴν ἰδίαν ς. Ath.Mitt.24.237 (Thyatira); conscientiousness, Arch.Pap.3.418.13 (vi A.D.).--Senses 4 and 5 sts. run one into the other, v. 1 Ep.Cor.8.7, 10.27 sq. 6. complicity, guilt, crime, “περὶ τοῦ πεφημίσθαι αὐτὴν ἐν ς. τοιαύτῃ” Supp.Epigr.4.648.13 (Lydia, ii A.D.). Grice: “The rough Romans could not do with the ‘cum-‘ of the ‘syn-‘ but few of us at Oxford think of Laurel and Hardy or Grice and Strawson when they say ‘conscientia’!” con-scĭo , īre, v. a. * I. To be conscious of wrong: nil sibi, * Hor. Ep. 1, 1, 61.— II. To know well (late Lat.): “consciens Christus, quid esset,” Tert. Carn. Chr. 3. moral theology, conscience. Jerome used ‘synderesis.’ ‘Synderesis’ becomes a fixture because of Peter Lombard’s inclusion of it in his Sentences. Despite this origin, Grecian ‘synderesis’ is distinguished from Roman ‘conscience’ (from cum-scire) --  by Aquinas. For Aquinas, Grecian ‘synderesis’ is the quasi-habitual grasp of the most common principles of the moral order i.e., natural law, whereas ‘conscienntia’ is the *application* of such knowledge to fleeting and unrepeatable circumstances. ’Conscientia,’ Aquinas misleadingly claims, is allegedly ambiguous in the way in which ‘knowledge’ is. Knowledge (Scientia) can be the mental state of the knower or what the knower knows (scitum, cognitum) – Grice: “In fact, Roman has four participles, active present, sciens, passive perfect, sctium, future active, sciendus, future passive, sciturus -- But ‘conscientia’  like ‘synderesis’, is typically used for the state of the soul. Sometimes, however, conscientia is taken to include general moral knowledge as well as its application here and now; but the content of synderesis is the most general precepts, whereas the content of conscience, if general knowledge, will be less general precepts. Since conscience can be erroneous, the question arises as to whether synderesis and its object, natural law precepts, can be obscured and forgotten because of bad behavior or upbringing. Aquinas holds that while great attrition can take place, such common moral knowledge cannot be wholly expunged from the soul. This is a version of the Aristotelian doctrine that there are starting points of knowledge so easily grasped that the grasping of them is a defining mark of the human being. However perversely the human agent behaves there will remain not only the comprehensive realization that good (bonum) is to be done and evil (malum) avoided, but also the recognition of some substantive human goods. Refs.: Luigi Speranza, “Grice ad Aquino,” Villa Grice --. H. P. Grice, “Kenny on Aquinas,” “Kenny uses barbaric Griceian and Grecian.”

Implicaturum: Grice fought with this. It’s a term of art, and he mainly wants to avoid, fastidiously, equivocation. “I say fastidiously because at Oxford, few – Hare is one of them – followed suit --. Most stuck with ‘implicatio.’  “So, if we stick with Roman, we have ‘implicatio.’ This gives English ‘implication,’ because the Anglo-Norman nominative proceeded via the Roman accusative, i. e. ‘implicationem.’ The use of –ure is also Anglo-Norman, for Roman ‘-ura.’ So we have ‘implicatura,’ and in Anglo-Norman, ‘implicature.’ ‘Implicatio’ is a feminine noun, and so is ‘implicatura.’ ‘Implicatio’ is a ‘active voice’ noun; so is ‘implicatura.’ The Roman allows for a correlative neuter to the past participle, ‘implicatum,’ or ‘implicitum’ (there are vowel alternation here). So, the two neuter correlative active forms for the two neuter passive perfect forms, ‘implicatum’ and ‘implicitum’ are ‘implicaturum’ and ‘impliciturum.’ Kneale has expanded on the use of ‘implicans.’ If ‘implicans’ is the active PRESENT participle for ‘implicare,’ ‘implicaturum’ is the active FUTURE participle. There is no need to specify the vehicle, as per Kneale, ‘propositio implicans,’ ‘propositio implicata’ – Since ‘implicatura’ is definitely constructed out of the active-voice future participle, we should have in fact a trio, where the two second items get two variants, each: the implicans, the implicaturum/impliciturum, and the implicatum/implicitum. Note that in the present participle, the vowel alternation does not apply: there’s ‘implicans’ (masculine, feminine, and neuter) only, which then yields, in the neuter forms, the future, ‘implicaturum’/’impliciturum,’ and the perfect, ‘implicatum’/’implicitum.’ The same for ‘explicare’: explicatio, explicatura, -- explicans, yielding explicaturum/expliciturm, explicatum/explciitum. Note that when I speak of what is seen, ‘see’ being diaphanous, I refer to ‘visum,’ what is seen. – There is no need, and in fact it is best not to, spceficy the vehicle. The Romans used the neuter, singular, for each case --.”  “If I were serious about ‘implicature’ being feminine, I would speak of the ‘implicata’ as a singular form, but I do not. I use ‘implicatum,’ what is implied – and use ‘implicata’ as plural neuter. Since an implicatum is usually indeterminate, it’s best to refer to the plural, ‘implicata’ – Ditto for the ‘implicaturum,’ which becomes, in the plural, ‘implicatura.’ – the vehicles are various in that stress, emphasis, context, all change the vehicle, somehow --. Implicatio then is like ‘conceptio,’ it is an abstract form (strictly feminine) that has a process-producti ambiguity that the neuter family: implicans, implicaturum/impliciturm, implicatum/implicitum avoids. Note that while –ure form in Anglo-Norman does not derive from the accusative, as ‘implication,’ does hence no accusative nasal ‘n’ (of ‘implicatioN,’ but not ‘implicatio’) in ‘implicature.’ The fact that the Anglo-Normans confused it all by turning this into ‘employ,’ and ‘imply’ should not deter the Oxonian for his delightful coinages!” Active Nominal Forms Infinitive: implicā́re Present participle: implicāns; implicántis Future participle: implicītúrus; implicātúrus Gerund: implicándum Gerundive: implicándus Passive Nominal Forms Infinitive: implicā́re Perfect participle: implicī́tum; implicā́tum. implicitura (Latin Dictionary)  lemma part voice mood tense gender number case implicare verb active participle future feminine singularnominative ablative vocative lemma part voice mood tense gender number case implicare verb active participle future neuter plural nominative accusative vocative INFLECTION Temporal inflection present – masculine implicans future – masculine impliciturus / implicaturus present – feminine implicans future – feminine implicitura / implicatura present – neuter implicans future – neuter impliciturum / implicaturum. De camptgii , vel eampacis dicemus inlra in vita Galheni apud TtebeUtum Pollionem, ratdeiorum cajcci ISc imperatotum ita vocabantur , non "gamba," vel  "campa," qua pro crure pofteriores wfuipatunt, quod crure tenus calcea xeniui: id k corrigiarum flexuris, & implicaturis , quibus circumligabantur. lologiae et Mercurii di Marziano Capella (I 68), e avanza una nuova ipotesi di ... naculis implicaturis in retia sua praecipites implagabuntur, syllogismis tuae pro- ... miliae suae longo ordine ac multis stemmatum inligata flexuris in parte prima. It may be argued that when Grice compares ‘impicature’ to “the ‘implying,’ that’s a feminine form, cognate with German/Dutch, -ung. Cf. Grice, “The conception of value” – The conceiving of value,” the concept of value, the conceptus of value, the conceptum of value. Active Nominal Forms Present participle: cōncipiēns; cōncipiéntis Future participle: cōnceptúrus Passive Nominal Forms Perfect participle: cōnceptum. Since Grice plays with this in “Conception of value,” let’s compare. “Grice: “It is worth comparing ‘to conceive’ with ‘to employ’.” Active present participle: implicans – concipiens, concipientis --. Active future participle: implicaturum/impliciturm, concepturus --. Passive perfect participle: implicatum/implicitum – conceptum. Hardie would ask, “what do you mean ‘of’?” – The implication of implication. The conception of value. In an objective (passive) interpretation: it’s the conceptum of ‘value’. In a subjective (active) interpretion, it’s the ‘conceiving’ of ‘value.’ Cfr. “the love of god,” “the fear of the enemy.” “The implication of implication.” For Grice, it’s the SENDER who implicates, a rational agent – although he may allow for an expression to ‘imply’ – via connotation --, and provided the sender does, or would occasionally do. In terms of the subjective/active, and objective/passive distinction, we would have, ‘implication,’ as in Strawson’s implication, meaning Strawson’s ‘implying’ (originally a feminine noun), i. e. Strawson’s ‘implicatio’ and Strawson’s ‘implicatura’, and Strawson’s ‘implicature,’ and Strawson’s ‘implicaturum’/’impliciturm.’ In terms of the passive/objective realm, what is implied by Strawson – the implicatum, and the implicitum. There passive interpretation allows for only one form (with two vowel alternates): implicatum and implicitum. The active forms can be present: ‘implicans’ and ‘implicaturum’. If it’s Strawson the ‘implier’ – implicans is ‘masculine.’ If it’s Strawson the one about to imply, it’s “Strawson implicaturus” --. By use of the genitive – “Ciceronis” we would have, “implicatura Ciceronis” – Cicero’s implicature --, Cicero the implier, Cicero implicans --. Surely Cicero did something to imply. This ‘something’ is best conceived in the neuter, ‘implicans,’ as applied, say, to sententia, or propositio – ‘propositio implicans – ‘sententia implicans’ – ‘implicatura’ would refer to the act of implying – as the conceiving of value --. Since ‘implicatura’ is formed out of the future participle, its corresponding form in the neuter would be ‘implicaturum.’ By his handwave (implicaturum/implicitum – qua vehicle of Cicero’s implicature – or implicatura – his act of implying), Cicero (implicans) implies (implicat) this or that ‘implicatum’ or ‘implicitum.’

 synergism: in soteriology, the cooperation within human consciousness of free will and divine grace in the processes of conversion and regeneration. Synergism became an issue in sixteenth-century Lutheranism during a controversy prompted by Philip Melanchthon 1497 syncategorematic synergism 897   897 1569. Under the influence of Erasmus, Melanchthon mentioned, in the 1533 edition of his Common Places, three causes of good actions: “the Word, the Holy Spirit, and the will.” Advocated by Pfeffinger, a Philipist, synergism was attacked by the orthodox, predestinarian, and monergist party, Amsdorf and Flacius, who retorted with Gnesio-Lutheranism. The ensuing Formula of Concord 1577 officialized monergism. Synergism occupies a middle position between uncritical trust in human noetic and salvific capacity Pelagianism and deism and exclusive trust in divine agency Calvinist and Lutheran fideism. Catholicism, Arminianism, Anglicanism, Methodism, and nineteenth- and twentieth-century liberal Protestantism have professed versions of synergism. 

systems theory: the transdisciplinary study of the abstract organization of phenomena, independent of their substance, type, or spatial or temporal scale of existence. It investigates both the principles common to all complex entities and the usually mathematical models that can be used to describe them. Systems theory was proposed in the 0s by the biologist Ludwig von Bertalanffy and furthered by Ross Ashby Introduction to Cybernetics, 6. Von Bertalanffy was both reacting against reductionism and attempting to revive the unity of science. He emphasized that real systems are open to, and interact with, their environments, and that they can acquire qualitatively new properties through emergence, resulting in continual evolution. Rather than reduce an entity e.g. the human body to the properties of its parts or elements e.g. organs or cells, systems theory focuses on the arrangement of and relations among the parts that connect them into a whole cf. holism. This particular organization determines a system, which is independent of the concrete substance of the elements e.g. particles, cells, transistors, people. Thus, the same concepts and principles of organization underlie the different disciplines physics, biology, technology, sociology, etc., providing a basis for their unification. Systems concepts include: system environment boundary, input, output, process, state, hierarchy, goal-directedness, and information. The developments of systems theory are diverse Klir, Facets of Systems Science, 1, including conceptual foundations and philosophy e.g. the philosophies of Bunge, Bahm, and Laszlo; mathematical modeling and information theory e.g. the work of Mesarovic and Klir; and practical applications. Mathematical systems theory arose from the development of isomorphies between the models of electrical circuits and other systems. Applications include engineering, computing, ecology, management, and family psychotherapy. Systems analysis, developed independently of systems theory, applies systems principles to aid a decision maker with problems of identifying, reconstructing, optimizing, and controlling a system usually a socio-technical organization, while taking into account multiple objectives, constraints, and resources. It aims to specify possible courses of action, together with their risks, costs, and benefits. Systems theory is closely connected to cybernetics, and also to system dynamics, which models changes in a network of synergy systems theory 898   898 coupled variables e.g. the “world dynamics” models of Jay Forrester and the Club of Rome. Related ideas are used in the emerging “sciences of complexity,” studying self-organization and heterogeneous networks of interacting actors, and associated domains such as far-from-equilibrium thermodynamics, chaotic dynamics, artificial life, artificial intelligence, neural networks, and computer modeling and simulation. 

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

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

‘that’: a demonstrative. Since Grice would make so many references to the ‘that’-clause, he is aware that ‘that’ is etymologically a demonstrative, that has lost its efficacy there. But the important etymological lesson is that what follows a ‘that’-clause (cf. the classical languages Grice learned at Clifton, Greek and Latin) is a ‘propositio’ just because the ‘that’ POINTS at the proposition. Sometimes he refers to ‘obliquus casus,’ and ‘oratio obliqua,’ but he is more at home with things like ‘verba percipienda,’ verba volendi, etc.

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

theism:  as an Aristotelian scholar, H. P. Grice is aware of the centrality of God, nous nouseos, in Aristotle’s philosophy -- atheism from Grecian a-, ‘not’, and theos, ‘god’, the view that there are no gods. A widely used sense denotes merely not believing in God and is consistent with agnosticism. A stricter sense denotes a belief that there is no God; this use has become the standard one. In the Apology Socrates is accused of atheism for not believing in the official Athenian gods. Some distinguish between theoretical atheism and practical atheism. A theoretical atheist is one who self-consciously denies the existence of a supreme being, whereas a practical atheist may believe that a supreme being exists but lives as though there were no god.

theology -- Grice’s philosophical theology -- concursus dei, God’s concurrence. The notion derives from a theory from medieval philosophical theology, according to which any case of causation involving created substances requires both the exercise of genuine causal powers inherent in creatures and the exercise of God’s causal activity. In particular, a person’s actions are the result of the person’s causal powers, often including the powers of deliberation and choice, and God’s causal endorsement. Divine concurrence maintains that the nature of God’s activity is more determinate than simply conserving the created world in existence. Although divine concurrence agrees with occasionalism in holding God’s power to be necessary for any event to occur, it diverges from occasionalism insofar as it regards creatures as causally active. 

theory-theory, v. Grice’s theory-theory.

theseus’s ship. Grice sails on Theseus’s ship. Theseus’ ship: Example used by Grice to relativise ‘identity.’ After the hero Theseus accomplished his mission to sail to Crete to kill the Minotaur, his ship (Ship 1) was put on display in Athens. As the time went by, its original planks and other parts were replaced one by one with new materials until one day all of its parts were new, with none of its original parts remaining. Do we want to say that the completely rebuilt ship (Ship 2) is the same as the original or that it is a different ship? The case is further complicated. If all the original materials were kept and eventually used to construct a ship (Ship 3), would this ship be the same as the original? This example has inspired much discussion concerning the problems of identity and individuation. “To be something later is to be its closest continuer. Let us apply this view to one traditional puzzle about identity over time: the puzzle of the ship of Theseus.” Nozick, Philosophical Explanation. Grice basically formalized this with G. Myro. Refs.: Collingwood, translation of Benedetto Croce, “Il paradosso della nave di Teseo,” H. P. Grice, “Relative identity,” The Grice Papers, BANC.

thomson: Grice did not collaborate with that many friends. He did with his tutee Strawson. He later did it with G. J. Warnock only on the theory of perception (notably the ‘visum’). He collaborated with two more Oxonian philosophers, and with both on the philosophy of action: D. F. Pears and J. F. Thomson.  J. F. Scots London-born philosopher who would often give seminars with H. P. Grice. They also explored ‘philosophy of action.’ Thomson presented his views on public occasons on the topic, usually under the guidance of D. F. Pears – on topics such as ‘freedom of the will.’ Thomson has assocations with University, and is a Fellow of Corpus, Grice’s alma.

thomsonianism: Grice explored philosophy of action with J. F. Thomson. Thomson would socialize mainly with Grice and D. F. Pears. Oddly, Thomson was also interested in ‘if’ and reached more or less the same Philonian consequences that Grice does.

three-year-old’s guide to Russell’s theory of types, the – by H. P. Grice, with an appendix by P. F. Strawson, “Advice to parents,” v. Grice’s three-year-old’s guide.

transcendens -- transcendental argument: Transcendental argument -- Davidson, D.: H. P. Grice, “Reply to Davidson,” philosopher of mind and language. His views on the relationship between our conceptions of ourselves as persons and as complex physical objects have had an enormous impact on contemporary philosophy. Davidson regards the mindbody problem as the problem of the relation between mental and physical events; his discussions of explanation assume that the entities explained are events; causation is a relation between events; and action is a species of events, so that events are the very subject matter of action theory. His central claim concerning events is that they are concrete particulars  unrepeatable entities located in space and time. He does not take for granted that events exist, but argues for their existence and for specific claims as to their nature. In “The Individuation of Events” in Essays on Actions and Events, 0, Davidson argues that a satisfactory theory of action must recognize that we talk of the same action under different descriptions. We must therefore assume the existence of actions. His strongest argument for the existence of events derives from his most original contribution to metaphysics, the semantic method of truth Essays on Actions and Events, pp. 10580; Essays on Truth and Interpretation, 4, pp. 214. The argument is based on a distinctive trait of the English language one not obviously shared by signal systems in lower animals, namely, its productivity of combinations. We learn modes of composition as well as words and are thus prepared to produce and respond to complex expressions never before encountered. Davidson argues, from such considerations, that our very understanding of English requires assuming the existence of events. To understand Davidson’s rather complicated views about the relationships between mind and body, consider the following claims: 1 The mental and the physical are distinct. 2 The mental and the physical causally interact. 3 The physical is causally closed. Darwinism, social Davidson, Donald 206   206 1 says that no mental event is a physical event; 2, that some mental events cause physical events and vice versa; and 3, that all the causes of physical events are physical events. If mental events are distinct from physical events and sometimes cause them, then the physical is not causally closed. The dilemma posed by the plausibility of each of these claims and by their apparent incompatibility just is the traditional mind body problem. Davidson’s resolution consists of three theses: 4 There are no strict psychological or psychophysical laws; in fact, all strict laws are expressible in purely physical vocabulary. 5 Mental events causally interact with physical events. 6 Event c causes event e only if some strict causal law subsumes c and e. It is commonly held that a property expressed by M is reducible to a property expressed by P where M and P are not logically connected only if some exceptionless law links them. So, given 4, mental and physical properties are distinct. 6 says that c causes e only if there are singular descriptions, D of c and DH of e, and a “strict” causal law, L, such that L and ‘D occurred’ entail ‘D caused D'’. 6 and the second part of 4 entail that physical events have only physical causes and that all event causation is physically grounded. Given the parallel between 13 and 4 6, it may seem that the latter, too, are incompatible. But Davidson shows that they all can be true if and only if mental events are identical to physical events. Let us say that an event e is a physical event if and only if e satisfies a basic physical predicate that is, a physical predicate appearing in a “strict” law. Since only physical predicates or predicates expressing properties reducible to basic physical properties appear in “strict” laws, every event that enters into causal relations satisfies a basic physical predicate. So, those mental events which enter into causal relations are also physical events. Still, the anomalous monist is committed only to a partial endorsement of 1. The mental and physical are distinct insofar as they are not linked by strict law  but they are not distinct insofar as mental events are in fact physical events. 

transcendental club. “A club I created to discuss what I call a ‘metaphysical argument,’ but Kant calls ‘transcendental.’ Strawson objected to my calling it “The Metaphysical Club.” transcendentalism: Also called “New England transcendentalism,” an early nineteenth-century spiritual and philosophical movement in the United States, represented by Ralph Waldo Emerson and Henry David Thoreau. It was centered in the so-called The Transcendental Club in Boston, and published a quarterly journal The Dial. Influenced by German idealism and Romanticism, it claimed that there is a spirit of the whole, the over-soul, which is beyond the space and time of the everyday world but at the same time immanent in it, and which forms a higher spiritual reality. It advocated an ascetic lifestyle, emphasized selfreliance and communal living, and rejected contemporary civilization. The eventual goal of life is to achieve a mystical unity with this spiritual reality, that is, with nature. Transcendentalism is viewed as a mixture of speculative philosophy and semi-religious faith. This philosophical movement had a deep influence upon existentialism, James’s pragmatism, and contemporary environmental philosophy. In a broad sense, transcendentalism is any doctrine that emphasizes the transcendental, and is taken as a synonym of transcendental philosophy. In this sense, all types of absolute philosophy, especially those idealist systems that emphasize the transcendence of the Absolute over the finite world, are considered examples of transcendentalism. Thus, transcendentalists had aims differing from those of Kant’s transcendental philosophy, which criticized those who wished to extend knowledge beyond experience and instead sought to use a transcendental argument to establish the conditions for the possibility of experience. “The transcendentalists believed in man’s ability to apprehend absolute Truth, absolute Justice, absolute Rectitude, absolute goodness. They spoke of the Right, the True, the Beautiful as eternal realities which man can discover in the world and which he can incorporate into his life. And they were convinced of the unlimited perfectibility of man.” Werkmeister, A History of Philosophical Ideas in America.

triangulus -- Grice’s triangle. He uses the word in “Meaning Revisited,” (WoW: 286). It’s the semiotic triange between what he calls the ‘communication device,’ the denotatum, and the soul. While often referred to as H. P. Grice’s triangle, or H. P. Grice’s semiotic triangle, or "Ogden/Richards triangle" the idea is also expressed in 1810, by Bernard Bolzano, in his rather obscure, Grice grants, “Beiträge zu einer begründeteren Darstellung der Mathematik.” However, the triangle can be traced back to the 4th century BC, in Aristotle's Peri Hermeneias (often referred to in its Latin translation De Interpretatione, second book of his Organon, on which Grice gave seminars as University Lecturer at Oxford with J. L. Austin). H. P. Grice’s semiotic Triangle relates to the problem of universals, a philosophical debate which split ancient and medieval philosophers (mainly realists and nominalists).  The triangle describes a simplified form of relationship between the emissor as subject, a concept as object or referent or denotatum, and its designation (sign, signans, or as Grice prefers ‘communication device’). For more elaborated research see Semiotics.  Ogden semiotic triangle.png  Contents 1Interlocutory applications 1.1Other triangles 1.2The communicative stand 1.3Direction of fit 2See also 3References 4External links Interlocutory applications Other triangles The relations between the triangular corners may be phrased more precisely in causal terms as follows[citation needed][original research?]. The matter evokes the emissor's soul. The emissor refers the matter to the symbol. The symbol evokes the emissee’s soul. The emissee refers the symbol back to the matter. The communicative stand Such a triangle represents ONE agent, the emissor, whereas communication takes place between TWO (objects, not necessarily agents). So imagine another triangle and consider that for the two to understand each other, the content that the "triangles" represent must fit or be aligned. Clearly, this calls for synchronisation and an interface as well as scale among other things. Notice also, that we perceive the world mostly through our eyes and in alternative phases of seeing and not seeing with change in the environment as the most important information to look for. Our eyes are lenses and we see a surface (2D) in ONE direction (focusing) if we are stationary and the object is not moving either. This is why you may position yourself in one corner of the triangle and by replicating (mirroring) it, you will be able to see the whole picture, your cognitive epistemological and the ontological existential or physical model of life, the universe, existence, etc. combined.[citation needed][original research?]  Direction of fit Main article: Direction of fit  This section has multiple issues. Please help improve it or discuss these issues on the talk page. (Learn how and when to remove these template messages) This section does not cite any sources. (December 2012) This section is written like a personal reflection, personal essay, or argumentative essay that states a Wikipedia editor's personal feelings or presents an original argument about a topic. (December 2012) Grice uses the notion of "direction of fit" (in “Intention and Uncertainty”) to create a taxonomy of acts. [3] [4]   This table possibly contains original research. Please improve it by verifying the claims made and adding inline citations. Statements consisting only of original research should be removed. (December 2012) (Learn how and when to remove this template message) World or Referentintended →Writer's Thought   decoded ↑ ↓ encoded  Thought Emissee's← extendedSymbol or Word   Emissor's THOUGHT retrieves SYMBOL suited to REFERENT, Word suited to World.   Reader's THOUGHT retrieves REFERENT suited to SYMBOL, World suited to Word. Actually the arrows indicate that there is something exchanged between the two parties and it is a feedback cycle. Especially, if you imagine that the world is represented in the soul of both the emissor and the emissee and used for reality check. If you look at the triangle above again, remember that reality check is not what is indicated there between the sign and the referent and marked as "true', because a term or a sign is allocated "arbitrarily'. What you check for is the observance of the law of identity which requires you and your partner to sort out that you are on the same page, that the emissor is communicating and the emissee is understanding about the same thing. So the chunk of reality and the term are replaceable/interchangeable within limits and your concepts in the soul as presented in some appropriate way are all related and mean the same thing. Usually the check does not stop there, your ideas must also be tested for feasibility and doability to make sure that they are "real" and not "phantasy". Reality check comes from consolidating your experience with other people's experience to avoid solipsism and/or by putting your ideas (projection) in practice (production) and see the reaction. Notice, however how vague the verbs used and how the concept of a fit itself is left unexplained in details.[editorializing]  See also The Delta Factor De dicto De se De re References  Colin Cherry (1957) On Human Communication  C. K. Ogden and I. A. Richards (1923) The Meaning of Meaning  John Searle (1975) "A Taxonomy of Illocutionary Acts", in: Gunderson, K. (ed.), Language, Mind, and Knowledge (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press) pp. 344-369.  John Searle (1976) "A Classification of Illocutionary Acts", Language in Society, Vol.5, pp. 1-24. External links Jessica Erickstad (1998) Richards' Meaning of Meaning Theory. University of Colorado at Boulder. Allie Cahill (1998) "Proper Meaning Superstition" (I. A. Richards). University of Colorado at Boulder. Categories: SemioticsSemanticsPragmaticsPhilosophy of languagePhilosophy of mind. Semiotisches Dreieck Zur Navigation springen. Zur Suche springen. Das semiotische Dreieck stellt die Relation zwischen dem Symbol, dem dadurch hervorgerufenen Begriff und dem damit gemeinten realen Ding dar. Das semiotische Dreieck ist ein in der Sprachwissenschaft und Semiotik verwendetes Modell. Es soll veranschaulichen, dass ein Zeichenträger (Graphem, Syntagma, Symbol) sich nicht direkt und unmittelbar auf einen außersprachlichen Gegenstand bezieht, sondern dieser Bezug nur mittelbar durch eine Vorstellung/einen Begriff erfolgt. Das semiotische Dreieck publizierten erstmals Charles Kay Ogden und Ivor Armstrong Richards in dem Werk The Meaning of Meaning. Das semiotische Dreieck in vereinfachter Beschreibung. Die Welt besteht aus Gegenständen, Sachverhalten, Ereignissen und Ähnlichem. Diese sind wirklich und bestimmen alles, was geschieht. Das Symbol für ein Einzelnes davon steht in den folgenden Dreiecken rechts und bedeutet vereinfacht: Ding oder „was Sache ist“. Wenn der Mensch ein Ding bemerkt oder sich vorstellt, macht er sich ein gedachtes Bild davon. Das Symbol dafür steht in den folgenden Dreiecken oben und bedeutet: Begriff oder „was man meint“. Wenn Menschen mit diesen Begriffen von Dingen reden, so verwenden sie Zeichen (meist hörbar, gelegentlich auch sichtbar oder anders wahrnehmbar). Das sind Wörter (auch Bezeichnungen, Benennungen, Symbole oder Ähnliches). Das Symbol dafür steht in den folgenden DREIECKEN links und bedeutet: Wort oder „was man dazu sagt“. Ding, Begriff und Wort sollen eindeutig zusammengehören. Das gelingt nicht immer, vielmehr muss man immerzu aufpassen, ob der eben verwendete Begriff das betrachtete Ding richtig erfasst, ob das eben verwendete Wort den gemeinten Begriff trifft, und sogar ob das eben betrachtete Ding überhaupt eins ist und nicht etwa einige oder gar keins. Passen die drei Ecken nicht zueinander, „So entstehen leicht die fundamentalsten Verwechslungen (deren die ganze Philosophie voll ist).“  Vitters: Tractatus 3.324. Das semiotische Dreieck als bildliche Darstellung der Mehrdimensionalität der Zeichen  Begriff  /\  /  \    /    \    /      \     /   \ Zeichen ...... Gegenstand  (Wort)  (Ding). Das semiotische Dreieck ist zunächst nur ein bildliches Hilfsmittel, um sich Beziehungen „im“ bzw. „des“ Zeichens zu veranschaulichen. Seine Interpretation und nähere Ausgestaltung hängt daher von der zugrunde gelegten Erkenntnistheorie ab.  In entscheidender Weise wird durch das semiotische Dreieck veranschaulicht, dass zwischen dem Wort (der Zeichenform, d. h. dem Schriftbild oder dem Lautbild) und dem Bezeichneten (Ding, Gegenstand) keine direkte Beziehung, sondern nur durch (mindestens) eine hier so genannte Vermittlungsinstanz vermittelte Beziehung besteht. Graphisch wird dies durch eine unterschiedliche Linie dargestellt.  Gebräuchlich ist ein Dreieck. Entscheidend ist die nicht-direkte Beziehung zwischen Zeichen (Wort) und Gegenstand (Ding). Je nach Anzahl der zu veranschaulichenden (nicht auszublendenden) Bezugspunkte und Vermittlungsinstanzen und der Art der betonten Beziehungen kann man auch ein Quadrat, ein sonstiges Vieleck bzw. einen mehrdimensionalen Körper benutzen.  Darauf hinzuweisen ist, dass die Vermittlungsinstanz – hier mit dem mehrdeutigen Ausdruck „Begriff“ bezeichnet – sehr unterschiedlich gesehen wird, was aus dem Terminologiebefund unten deutlich wird.  Das semiotische Dreieck ist Veranschaulichung eines Zeichenverständnisses, das dem Zeichenbegriff von Ferdinand de Saussure, wonach ein Zeichen eine „psychische Einheit“ zwischen einem „akustischen Bild“ (Signifikanten) und einem „Begriff“ (Signifikat) (bei ihm im Sinne einer psychischen Vorstellung)[2] sein soll, widersprechen dürfte:[3] statt der „Papierblattmetapher“ für das Verhältnis von Signifikant/Signifikat (von de Saussure) wird im semiotischen Dreieck eine optische Trennung und Distanzierung von Zeichenkörper und Begriff (Sinn) vorgenommen.  Das semiotische Dreieck blendet auch pragmatische Bedingungen und Bezüge aus bzw. reduziert sie auf die semantische Dimension und wird daher von pragmatischen Bedeutungstheorien kritisiert (vgl. Semiotik).  Das Fehlen einer unmittelbaren Beziehung zwischen Zeichen und Gegenstand wird zugleich als Ausdruck der (von de Saussure betonten) Arbitrarität und Konventionalität von Zeichen interpretiert.  Geschichte Man muss unterscheiden zwischen dem semiotischen Dreieck als Bild und einem dreiseitigen (triadischen) Zeichenbegriff, dessen Veranschaulichung es dient.  Verbreitet wird die sprachwissenschaftliche Entwicklung so dargestellt, als gäbe es ein semiotisches Dreieck erst seit Ogden/Richards, die damit einen nur zweigliedrigen Zeichenbegriff von de Saussure modifiziert/überwunden hätten.[4] Es heißt, bis ins 19. Jahrhundert sei der Zeichenbegriff im Wesentlichen hinsichtlich seines Sachbezugs als „zweistellige Relation“ diskutiert worden.[5]  Andere betonen den zugrunde liegenden dreiseitigen („triadischen“) Zeichenbegriff, der meist bei Aristoteles, mitunter auch schon bei Platon angesetzt wird. Schon bei Platon findet sich ein gedankliches Wort-Gegenstand-Modell zwischen Namen (Zeichen) – Idee (Begriff) und Ding. Bei Aristoteles ist ein Zeichen (semeion, damit meint er ein Wort) ein Symptom für eine Seelenregung, d. h. für etwas, das der Sprecher sich vorstellt. Diese Vorstellung des Sprechers ist dann ein Ikon für ein Ding. Dies sind für ihn die primären Zeichenrelationen (rot in der untenstehenden Figur). Davon abgeleitet ist die sekundäre Zeichenrelation (schwarz in der Figur).   Das Semiotische Dreieck bei Aristoteles Seit Aristoteles wird vertreten, dass Zeichen Dinge der Welt nicht unvermittelt, sondern vermittelt über einen „Begriff“, „Vorstellung“ etc. bezeichnen. Dies bedeutet eine Differenzierung gegenüber der einfachen aliquid-stat-pro-aliquo-Konzeption und ist „für die ganze Geschichte der Semiotik entscheidend“. Bei Aristoteles stehen „Zeichen […] für Sachen, welche von den Bewußtseinsinhalten abgebildet worden sind“. „Die Sachen werden von den Zeichen nicht präsentiert, sondern repräsentiert.“. Die Interpretation von De interpretatione ist dabei seit Jahrtausenden kontrovers. Die oben wiedergegebene Interpretation entspricht einer psychologischen Deutung, die einen Psychologismus nahelegt. Dies erscheint fraglich, da Aristoteles eher einen erkenntnistheoretischen Realismus vertreten haben dürfte.  Scholastik In der Sprachphilosophie der Scholastik finden sich Überlegungen zum Dreierschema res (Sache, Ding), intellectus (Verstand, Gedanken, Begriff), vox (Wortzeichen). Logik von Port-Royal. In der Grammatik von Port-Royal (Mitte des 17. Jh.) soll das semiotische Dreieck eingeführt worden sein.[10] In der Logik von Port-Royal sind die Gegenstände und die Sprachzeichen nicht unmittelbar, sondern über Universalien miteinander verknüpft. Nach KANT ist das zwischen Begrifflichkeit und Sinnlichkeit bzw. Gegenstand vermittelnde Element das Schema als ein bildhaftes und anschauliches Zeichen. Das Verfahren des Verstandes, mit Hilfe der ‚Einbildungskraft‘ die reinen Verstandesbegriffe zu versinnlichen, heißt Schematismus. Auch Arthur Schopenhauer, ein deutscher Philosoph des 19. Jahrhunderts, unterscheidet in seinem Hauptwerk Die Welt als Wille und Vorstellung strikt zwischen Wort, Begriff und Anschauung. Ausblendung des Referenzbezugs im Zeichenmodell von de Saussure Nach verbreiteter Auffassung haben die moderne Sprachwissenschaft und der moderne Zeichenbegriff erst mit de Saussure eingesetzt. Nach de Saussure ist ein Zeichen die Verbindung eines Ausdrucks (signifiant) mit einem Inhalt (signifié), wobei das Zeichen als „psychische Einheit mit zwei Seiten“[14] aufgefasst wurde. In diesem zweigliedrigen (dyadischen) Zeichenmodell „hat die reale Welt keine Bedeutung“:[15] „Hier Bezeichnetes als geistige Vorstellung, dort Bezeichnendes als dessen Materialisation in der Sprache, aber kein Platz für das Objekt selbst“. Triadisches Zeichenmodells bei Peirce. Charles S. Peirce entwickelte eine pragmatische Semiotik[16] und die Pragmatik soll auf dem triadischen Zeichenmodell von Peirce beruhen.[17] Statt eines dyadischen entwickelte Peirce ein kommunikativ-pragmatisches, triadisches Zeichenmodell: das Zeichen ist eine „triadische Relation (semiotisches Dreieck)“. Dies, indem er zu Zeichenmittel und Objekt den „Interpretanten“ ergänzte, d. h. die Bedeutung, die durch Interpretation der Zeichenbenutzer (Sprecher bzw. Hörer) in einem Handlungszusammenhang zustande kommt. „Das, was als Bewusstseinsinhalt erscheint, der Interpretant, ist der individuell erkannte Sinn, der seinerseits kulturell vor- oder mitgeprägt sein kann. Daher wird in diesem Konzept die Zeichenbedeutung (…) auch als „kulturelle Einheit“ (Eco, 1972) postuliert.“Peirce-Interpreten wie Floyd Merrell oder Gerhard Schönrich wenden sich gegen die Dreiecksdarstellung peircescher Zeichentriaden, da sie suggerieren könnte, dass sich die irreduzible triadische Relation zerlegen lasse in einzelne zweistellige Relationen. Stattdessen schlagen sie eine Y-förmige Darstellung vor, bei der die drei Relate jeweils durch eine Linie mit dem Mittelpunkt verbunden sind, aber entlang der Seiten des „Dreiecks“ keine Linien verlaufen.  Charles Kay Ogden / Ivor Armstrong Richards Als „die“ Vertreter eines dreiseitigen Zeichenmodells bzw. eines semiotischen Dreiecks (unter Ausblendung ihrer Vorläufer) werden verbreitet Charles Kay Ogden und Ivor Armstrong Richards angeführt. Diese erkannten eine Welt außerhalb des menschlichen Bewusstseins ausdrücklich an und wandten sich gegen „idealistische Konzepte“. Nach Charles Kay Ogden und Ivor Armstrong Richards symbolisiert das Zeichen (symbol) etwas und ruft einen entsprechenden Bewusstseinsinhalt (reference) hervor, der sich auf das Objekt (referent) bezieht.[6] Das semiotische Dreieck wird wie folgt erklärt: „Umweltsachverhalte werden im Gedächtnis begrifflich bzw. konzeptuell repräsentiert und mit Sprachzeichen assoziiert. So ist z. B. das Wort „Baum“ ein Sprachzeichen, das mit dem Begriff bzw. Konzept von „BAUM“ assoziiert ist und über diesen auf reale Bäume (Buchen, Birken, Eichen usw.) verweisen kann.“. Siehe auch Organon-Modell (von Karl Bühler) Literatur Metamorphosen des semiotischen Dreieck. In: Zeitschrift für Semiotik. Band 10, (darin 8 einzelne Artikel). Umberto Eco: Semiotik – Entwurf einer Theorie der Zeichen. 2. Auflage. Wilhelm Fink Verlag, München 1991, ISBN 3-7705-2323-7. Umberto Eco: Einführung in die Semiotik. Wilhelm Fink Verlag, München 1994, ISBN 3-7705-0633-2. Einzelnachweise  C. K. Ogden, I. A. Richards: The Meaning of Meaning. 1923  Kassai: Sinn. In: Martinet (Hrsg.): Linguistik. Ohne Problematisierung trotz der Nähe zu Saussure hingegen bei Kassai: Sinn. In: Martinet (Hrsg.): Linguistik. 1973, S. 251 (S. 254 f.) referiert  So wohl Fischer Kolleg Abiturwissen, Deutsch (2002), S. 27  So z. B. Schülerduden, Philosophie (2002), Semiotik  Triadische Zeichenrelation. In: Homberger: Sachwörterbuch zur Sprachwissenschaft. 2000  Trabant: Semiotik. Trabant: Semiotik. So auch Triadische Zeichenrelation. In: Homberger: Sachwörterbuch zur Sprachwissenschaft. 2000, wonach Aristoteles das Platonische Modell „psychologisiert“ haben soll  So Schülerduden, Philosophie (2002), Sprachphilosophie  Schülerduden, Philosophie (2002), Sprachphilosophie  Baumgartner: Kants „Kritik der reinen Vernunft“, Anleitung zur Lektüre. [1988], neu ersch. 5. Auflage. ALBER, Freiburg Hierzu vor allem das Kapitel: „Zur Lehre von der abstrakten, oder Vernunft-Erkenntnis“ (Zweiter Band)  Fischer Kolleg Abiturwissen, Deutsch (2002), S. 26  Ernst: Pragmalinguistik. 2002, S. 66  Schülerduden, Philosophie (2002), Peirce  So Pelz: Linguistik. 1996, S. 242  Zeichenprozess. In: Homberger: Sachwörterbuch zur Sprachwissenschaft. 2000  Bedeutung. In: Homberger: Sachwörterbuch zur Sprachwissenschaft. 2000 Kategorien: SemiotikSemantik. For Grice, the triangle represents the three correspondences. First, psychophysical, second psychosemiotic, and third semio-physical.

tukey’s bit: from binary digit, a unit or measure of information. Suggested by John W. Tukey, a bit is both an amount of information a reduction of eight equally likely possibilities to one generates three bits [% log2 8] of information and a system of representing that quantity. The binary system uses 1’s and 0’s.

type: v. Grice’s three-year-old’s guide to Russell’s theory of type

tarski: a., cited by Grice. Grice liked Tarski because unlike Strawson, he was an Aristotelian correspondenntist at heart, philosopher of logic famous for his investigations of the concepts of truth and consequence conducted in the 0s. His analysis of the concept of truth in syntactically precise, fully interpreted languages resulted in a definition of truth and an articulate defense of the correspondence theory of truth. Sentences of the following kind are now known as Tarskian biconditionals: ‘The sentence “Every perfect number is even” is true if and only if every perfect number is even.’ One of Tarski’s major philosophical insights is that each Tarskian biconditional is, in his words, a partial definition of truth and, consequently, all Tarskian biconditionals whose right-hand sides exhaust the sentences of a given formal language together constitute an implicit definition of ‘true’ as applicable to sentences of that given formal language. This insight, because of its penetrating depth and disarming simplicity, has become a staple of modern analytic philosophy. Moreover, it in effect reduced the philosophical problem of defining truth to the logical problem of constructing a single sentence having the form of a definition and having as consequences each of the Tarskian biconditionals. Tarski’s solution to this problem is the famous Tarski truth definition, versions of which appear in virtually every mathematical logic text. Tarski’s second most widely recognized philosophical achievement was his analysis and explication of the concept of consequence. Consequence is interdefinable with validity as applied to arguments: a given conclusion is a consequence of a given premise-set if and only if the argument composed of the given conclusion and the given premise-set is valid; conversely, a given argument is valid if and only if its conclusion is a consequence of its premise-set. Shortly after discovering the truth definition, Tarski presented his “no-countermodels” definition of consequence: a given sentence is a consequence of a given set of sentences if and only if every model of the set is a model of the sentence in other words, if and only if there is no way to reinterpret the non-logical terms in such a way as to render the sentence false while rendering all sentences in the set true. As Quine has emphasized, this definition reduces the modal notion of logical necessity to a combination of syntactic and semantic concepts, thus avoiding reference to modalities and/or to “possible worlds.” After Tarski’s definitive work on truth and on consequence he devoted his energies largely to more purely mathematical work. For example, in answer to Gödel’s proof that arithmetic is incomplete and undecidable, Tarski showed that algebra and geometry are both complete and decidable. Tarski’s truth definition and his consequence definition are found in his 6 collection Logic, Semantics, Metamathematics 2d ed., 3: article VIII, pp. 152278, contains the truth definition; article XVI, pp. 40920, contains the consequence definition. His published articles, nearly 3,000 s in all, have been available together since 6 in the four-volume Alfred Tarski, Collected Papers, edited by S. Givant and R. McKenzie.

tautologicum – Grice gives two examples: War is war, and Women are women – “Note that “Men are men” sounds contingent.” tautology, a proposition whose negation is inconsistent, or self- contradictory, e.g. ‘Socrates is Socrates’, ‘Every human is either male or nonmale’, ‘No human is both male and non-male’, ‘Every human is identical to itself’, ‘If Socrates is human then Socrates is human’. A proposition that is or is logically equivalent to the negation of a tautology is called a self-contradiction. According to classical logic, the property of being Tao Te Ching tautology 902   902 implied by its own negation is a necessary and sufficient condition for being a tautology and the property of implying its own negation is a necessary and sufficient condition for being a contradiction. Tautologies are logically necessary and contradictions are logically impossible. Epistemically, every proposition that can be known to be true by purely logical reasoning is a tautology and every proposition that can be known to be false by purely logical reasoning is a contradiction. The converses of these two statements are both controversial among classical logicians. Every proposition in the same logical form as a tautology is a tautology and every proposition in the same logical form as a contradiction is a contradiction. For this reason sometimes a tautology is said to be true in virtue of form and a contradiction is said to be false in virtue of form; being a tautology and being a contradiction tautologousness and contradictoriness are formal properties. Since the logical form of a proposition is determined by its logical terms ‘every’, ‘some’, ‘is’, etc., a tautology is sometimes said to be true in virtue of its logical terms and likewise mutatis mutandis for a contradiction. Since tautologies do not exclude any logical possibilities they are sometimes said to be “empty” or “uninformative”; and there is a tendency even to deny that they are genuine propositions and that knowledge of them is genuine knowledge. Since each contradiction “includes” implies all logical possibilities which of course are jointly inconsistent, contradictions are sometimes said to be “overinformative.” Tautologies and contradictions are sometimes said to be “useless,” but for opposite reasons. More precisely, according to classical logic, being implied by each and every proposition is necessary and sufficient for being a tautology and, coordinately, implying each and every proposition is necessary and sufficient for being a contradiction. Certain developments in mathematical logic, especially model theory and modal logic, seem to support use of Leibniz’s expression ‘true in all possible worlds’ in connection with tautologies. There is a special subclass of tautologies called truth-functional tautologies that are true in virtue of a special subclass of logical terms called truthfunctional connectives ‘and’, ‘or’, ‘not’, ‘if’, etc.. Some logical writings use ‘tautology’ exclusively for truth-functional tautologies and thus replace “tautology” in its broad sense by another expression, e.g. ‘logical truth’. Tarski, Gödel, Russell, and many other logicians have used the word in its broad sense, but use of it in its narrow sense is widespread and entirely acceptable. Propositions known to be tautologies are often given as examples of a priori knowledge. In philosophy of mathematics, the logistic hypothesis of logicism is the proposition that every true proposition of pure mathematics is a tautology. Some writers make a sharp distinction between the formal property of being a tautology and the non-formal metalogical property of being a law of logic. For example, ‘One is one’ is not metalogical but it is a tautology, whereas ‘No tautology is a contradiction’ is metalogical but is not a tautology. 

taylor, philosopher, educated at Oxford where he taught. Taylor’s oeuvre has a broadly analytic character, although he has consistently opposed the naturalistic and reductionist tendencies that were associated with the positivist domination of analytic philosophy during the 0s and 0s. He was, for example, a strong opponent of behaviorism and defended the essentially interpretive nature of the social sciences against efforts to reduce their methodology to that of the natural sciences. Taylor has also done important work on the histiory of philosophy, particularly on Hegel, and has connected his work with that of Continental philosophers such as Heidegger and Merleau-Ponty. He has contributed to political theory and written on contemporary political issues such as multiculturalism in, e.g., The Ethics of Authenticity, 1, often with specific reference to  politics. He has also taken an active political role in Quebec. Taylor’s most important work, Sources of the Self 9, is a historical and critical study of the emergence of the modern concept of the self. Like many other critics of modernity, Taylor rejects modern tendencies to construe personal identity in entirely scientific or naturalistic terms, arguing that these construals lead to a view of the self that can make no sense of our undeniable experience of ourselves as moral agents. He develops this critique in a historical mode through discussion of the radical Enlightenment’s e.g., Locke’s reduction of the self to an atomic individual, essentially disengaged from everything except its own ideas and desires. But unlike many critics, Taylor also finds in modernity other, richer sources for a conception of the self. These include the idea of the self’s inwardness, traceable as far back as Augustine but developed in a distinctively modern way by Montaigne and Descartes; the affirmation of ordinary life and of ourselves as participants in it, particularly associated with the Reformation; and the expressivism of, e.g., the Romantics for which the self fulfills itself by embracing and articulating the voice of nature present in its depths. Taylor thinks that these sources constitute a modern self that, unlike the “punctual self” of the radical Enlightenment, is a meaningful ethical agent. He suggests, nonetheless, that an adequate conception of the modern self will further require a relation of human inwardness to God. This suggestion so far remains undeveloped.  Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Taylor et moi.”

teichmüller: philosopher who contributes to the history of philosophy and develops a theory of knowledge and a metaphysical conception based on these historical studies. Born in Braunschweig, Teichmüller teaches at Göttingen and Basel and is influenced by Lotze and Leibniz. Teichmüller’s major works are “Aristotelische Forschungen” and “Die wirkliche und scheinbar Welt.” His other works are “Ueber die Unsterblichkeit der Seele,”  vide H. P. Grice, “The immortality of Shropshire’s soul” Old English steorfan "to die" (past tense stearf, past participle storfen), literally "become stiff," from Proto-Germanic *sterbanan "be stiff, starve" (source also of Old Frisian sterva, Old Saxon sterban, Dutch sterven, Old High German sterban "to die," Old Norse stjarfi "tetanus"), from extended form of PIE root *ster- (1) "stiff."  The conjugation became weak in English by 16c. The sense narrowed to "die of cold" (14c.); transitive meaning "to kill with hunger" is first recorded 1520s (earlier to starve of hunger, early 12c.). Intransitive sense of "to die of hunger" dates from 1570s. German cognate sterben retains the original sense of the word, but the English has come so far from its origins that starve to death (1910) is now common. “Studien zur Geschichte der Begriffe,” “Darwinismus und Philosophie,” “Ueber das Wesen der Liebe,” “ Religionsphilosophie,” and “Neue Grundlegung der Psychologie und Logik.” Teichmüller maintains that the self of immediate experience, the “I,” is the most fundamental reality and that the conceptual world is a projection of its constituting activity. On the basis of his studies in the history of metaphysics and his sympathies with Leibniz’s monadology, he held that each metaphysical system contained partial truths and construed each metaphysical standpoint as a perspective on a complex reality. Thinking of both metaphysical interpretations of reality and the subjectivity of individual immediate experience, Teichmüller christened his own philosophical position “perspectivism.” His work influenced later thought through its impact on the philosophical reflections of Nietzsche, who was probably influenced by him in the development of his perspectival theory of knowledge. 

teilhard: philosopher whose oeuvre is vigorously discussed throughout his career. Teilhard de Chardin’s philosophy generates considerable controversy within the church, since one of his principal concerns is to bring about a forceful yet generous reconciliation between the traditional Christian dogma and the dramatic advances yielded by modern science. His philosophy consisted of systematic reflections on cosmology, biology, physics, anthropology, social theory, and theology  reflections guided, he maintains, by his fascination with the nature of life, energy, and matter, and by his profound respect for human spirituality. Teilhard is educated in philosophy at Mongré. He entered the Jesuit order at the age of eighteen and was ordained a priest.He went on to study at Aix-en-Provence, Laval, and Caen, as well as on the Isle of Jersey and at Hastings, England. Returning to Paris after the war, he studies biology, geology, and paleontology at the Museum of Natural History and at the Institut Catholique, receiving a doctoral degree in geology. Shortly after appointment to the faculty of geology at the Institut Catholique, he takes leave to pursue field research. His research resulted in the discovery of “Sinanthropus pekinensis,” which he saw as “perhaps the next to the last step traceable between the anthropoids and man.” It was during this period that Teilhard begins to compose one of his major theoretical works, “Le phenomene de l’homme,” in which he stressed the deep continuity of evolutionary development and the emergence of humanity from the animal realm. He argues that received evolutionary theory is fully compatible with Christian doctrine. Indeed, it is the synthesis of evolutionary theory with his own Christian theology that perhaps best characterizes the broad tenor of his thought. Starting with the very inception of the evolutionary trajectory, i.e., with what he termed the “alpha point” of creation, Teilhard’s general theory resists any absolute disjunction between the inorganic and organic. Indeed, matter and spirit are two “stages” or “aspects” of the same cosmic stuff. These transitions from one state to another may be said to correspond to those between the somatic and psychic, the exterior and interior, according to the state of relative development, organization, and complexity. Hence, for Teilhard, much as for Bergson whose work greatly influenced him, evolutionary development is characterized by a progression from the simplest components of matter and energy what he termed the lithosphere, through the organization of flora and fauna the biosphere, to the complex formations of sentient and cognitive human life the noosphere. In this sense, evolution is a “progressive spiritualization of matter.” He held this to be an orthogenetic process, one of “directed evolution” or “Genesis,” by which matter would irreversibly metamorphose itself, in a process of involution and complexification, toward the psychic. Specifically, Teilhard’s account sought to overcome what he saw as a prescientific worldview, one based on a largely antiquated and indefensible metaphysical dualism. By accomplishing this, he hoped to realize a productive convergence of science and religion. The end of evolution, what he termed “the Omega point,” would be the full presence of Christ, embodied in a universal human society. Many have tended to see a Christian pantheism expressed in such views. Teilhard himself stressed a profoundly personalist, spiritual perspective, drawn not only from the theological tradition of Thomism, but from that of Pauline Neoplatonism and Christian mysticism as well  especially that tradition extending from Meister Eckhart through Cardinal Bérulle and Malebranche. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Teilhard et moi,” – “Method in philosophical psychology: from the banal to the bizarre.”

telesio: philosopher whose empiricism influences Francis Bacon and Galileo. Telesio studies in Padova, where he completed his doctorate,  and practiced philosophy in Naples and Cosenza without holding any academic position. His major oeuvre, “De rerum natura iuxta propria principia,” contains an attempt to interpret nature on the basis of its own principles, which Telesio identifies with the two incorporeal active forces of heat and cold, and the corporeal and passive physical substratum. As the two active forces permeate all of nature and are endowed with sensation, Telesio argues that all of nature possesses some degree of sensation. Human beings share with animals a material substance produced by heat and coming into existence with the body, called spirit. They are also given a mind by God. Telesio knew various interpretations of Aristotle. However, Telesio  broke with foreign exegeses, criticizing Aristotle’s Physics and claiming that nature is investigated better by the senses than by the intellect.

telishment: punishment of one suspected of wrongdoing, but whom the authorities know to be innocent, imposed as a deterrent to future wrongdoers. Telishment is thus not punishment insofar as punishment requires that the recipient’s harsh treatment be deserved. Telishment is classically given as one of the thought experiments challenging utilitarianism and more broadly, consequentialism as a theory of ethics, for such a theory seems to justify telishment on some occasions. Grice considers the sophisma that only the condemnable is supposed to be responsible – as a disregard for the implicaturum.

finis: H. P. Grice, "Cum finis est licitus, etiam media sunt licita" -- "Der Zweck und die Mittel.” Grice: “means-end rationality is a must” -- finitum -- telos, ancient Grecian term meaning ‘end’ or ‘purpose’. Telos is a key concept not only in Grecian ethics but also in Grecian science. The purpose of a human being is a good life, and human activities are evaluated according to whether they lead to or manifest this telos. Plants, animals, and even inanimate objects were also thought to have a telos through which their activities and relations could be understood and evaluated. Though a telos could be something that transcends human activities and sensible things, as Plato thought, it need not be anything apart from nature. Aristotle, e.g., identified the telos of a sensible thing with its immanent form. It follows that the purpose of the thing is simply to be what it is and that, in general, a thing pursues its purpose when it endeavors to preserve itself. Aristotle’s view shows that ‘purpose in nature’ need not mean a higher purpose beyond nature. Yet, his immanent purpose does not exclude “higher” purposes, and Aristotelian teleology was pressed into service by medieval thinkers as a framework for understanding God’s agency through nature. Thinkers in the modern period argued against the prominent role accorded to telos by ancient telepathy telos 906   906 and medieval thinkers, and they replaced it with analyses in terms of mechanism and law. teleology, the philosophical doctrine that all of nature, or at least intentional agents, are goaldirected or functionally organized. Plato first suggested that the organization of the natural world can be understood by comparing it to the behavior of an intentional agent  external teleology. For example, human beings can anticipate the future and behave in ways calculated to realize their telekinesis teleology 905   905 intentions. Aristotle invested nature itself with goals  internal teleology. Each kind has its own final cause, and entities are so constructed that they tend to realize this goal. Heavenly bodies travel as nearly as they are able in perfect circles because that is their nature, while horses give rise to other horses because that is their nature. Natural theologians combined these two teleological perspectives to explain all phenomena by reference to the intentions of a beneficent, omniscient, all-powerful God. God so constructed the world that each entity is invested with the tendency to fulfill its own God-given nature. Darwin explained the teleological character of the living world non-teleologically. The evolutionary process is not itself teleological, but it gives rise to functionally organized systems and intentional agents. Present-day philosophers acknowledge intentional behavior and functional organization but attempt to explain both without reference to a supernatural agent or internal natures of the more metaphysical sort. Instead, they define ‘function’ cybernetically, in terms of persistence toward a goal state under varying conditions, or etiologically, in terms of the contribution that a structure or action makes to the realization of a goal state. These definitions confront a battery of counterexamples designed to show that the condition mentioned is either not necessary, not sufficient, or both; e.g., missing goal objects, too many goals, or functional equivalents. The trend has been to decrease the scope of teleological explanations from all of nature, to the organization of those entities that arise through natural selection, to their final refuge in the behavior of human beings. Behaviorists have attempted to eliminate this last vestige of teleology. Just as natural selection makes the attribution of goals for biological species redundant, the selection of behavior in terms of its consequences is designed to make any reference to intentions on the part of human beings unnecessary.  Kant, in fact, for reasons not unlike these, sought to show the validity of a different but fairly closely related Technical Imperative by just such a method. The form which he selects is one which, in my terms, would be represented by "It is fully acceptable, given let it be that B, that let it be that A" or "It is necessary, given let it be that B, that let it be that A". Applying this to the one fully stated technical imperative given in Grundlegung, we get "It is necessary, given let it be that one bisect a line on an unerring principle, that let it be that I draw from its extremities two intersecting arcs". Call this statement, (α). Though he does not express himself very clearly, I am certain that his claim is that this imperative is validated in virtue of the fact that it is, analytically, a consequence of an indicative statement which is true and, in the present context, unproblematic, namely, the statement vouched for by geometry, that if one bisects a line on an unerring principle, then one does so only as a result of having drawn from its extremities two intersecting arcs. Call this statement, (β). His argument seems to be expressible as follows. (1) It is analytic that he who wills the end (so far as reason decides his conduct), wills the indispensable means thereto. (2) So it is analytic that (so far as one is rational) if one wills that A, and judges that if A, then A as a result of B, then one wills that B. end p.93 (3) So it is analytic that (so far as one is rational) if one judges that if A, then A as a result of B, then if one wills that A then one wills that B. (4) So it is analytic that, if it is true that if A, then A as a result of B, then if let it be that A, then it must be that let it be that B. From which, by substitution, we derive (5): it is analytic that if β then α. Now it seems to me to be meritorious, on Kant's part, first that he saw a need to justify hypothetical imperatives of this sort, which it is only too easy to take for granted, and second that he invoked the principle that "he who wills the end, wills the means"; intuitively, this invocation seems right. Unfortunately, however, the step from (3) to (4) seems open to dispute on two different counts. (1) It looks as if an unwarranted 'must' has appeared in the consequent of the conditional which is claimed, in (4), as analytic; the most that, to all appearances, could be claimed as being true of the antecedent is that 'if let it be that A then let it be that B'. (2) (Perhaps more serious.) It is by no means clear by what right the psychological verbs 'judge' and 'will', which appear in (3), are omitted in (4); how does an (alleged) analytic connection between (i) judging that if A, A as a result of B and (ii) its being the case that if one wills that A then one wills that B yield an analytic connection between (i) it's being the case that if A, A as a result of B and (ii) the 'proposition' that if let it be that A then let it be that B? Can the presence in (3) of the phrase "in so far as one is rational" legitimize this step? I do not know what remedy to propose for the first of these two difficulties; but I will attempt a reconstruction of Kant's line of argument which might provide relief from the second. It might, indeed, even be an expansion of Kant's actual thinking; but whether or not this is so, I am a very long way from being confident in its adequacy. (1) Let us suppose it to be a fundamental psychological law that, ceteris paribus, for any creature x (of a sufficiently developed kind), no matter what A and B are, if x wills A and judges that if A, A only as a result of B, then x wills B. This I take to be a proper representation of "he who wills the end, wills the indispensable means"; and in calling it a fundamental law I mean that it is the end p.94 law, or one of the laws, from which 'willing' and 'judging' derive their sense as names of concepts which explain behaviour. So, I assume, to reject it would be to deprive these words of their sense. If x is a rational creature, since in this case his attitudes of acceptance are at least to some degree under his control (volitive or judicative assent can be withheld or refused), this law will hold for him only if the following is true: (2) x wills (it is x's will) that (for any A, B) if x wills that A and judges that if A, A only as a result of B, then x is to will that B. In so far as x proceeds rationally, x should will as specified in (2) only if x judges that if it is satisfactory to will that A and also satisfactory to judge that if A, A only as a result of B, then it is satisfactory to will that B; otherwise, in willing as specified in (2), he will be willing to run the risk of passing from satisfactory attitudes to unsatisfactory ones. So, given that x wills as specified in (2): (3) x should (qua rational) judge that (for any A, B) if it is satisfactory to will that A and also satisfactory to judge that if A, A only as a result of B, then it is satisfactory to will that B. Since the satisfactoriness of attitudes of acceptance resolves itself into the satisfactoriness (in the sense distinguished in the previous chapter) of the contents of those attitudes (marked by the appropriate mode-markers), if x judges as specified in (3) then: (4) x should (qua rational) judge that (for any A, B) if it is satisfactory that ! A and also satisfactory that if it is the case that A, A only as a result of B, then it is satisfactory that ! B. And, if x judges as in (4), then (because (A & B → C) yields A → (B → C)): (5) x should judge that (for any A, B) if it is satisfactory that if A, A only because B, then it is satisfactory that, if let it be that A, then let it be that B. But if x judges that satisfactoriness is, for any A, B, transmitted in this particular way, then: (6) x should judge that (for any A, B) if A, A only because B, yields if let it be that A, then let it be that B. end p.95 But if any rational being should (qua rational) judge that (for any A, B) the first 'propositional' form yields the second, then the first propositional form does yield the second; so: (7) (For any A, B) if A, A only because B yields if let it be that A, then let it be that B. (A special apology for the particularly violent disregard of 'use and mention'; my usual reason is offered.) Fig. 4 summarizes the steps of the argument. I. Kant's Steps α = It is necessary, given let it be that one bisect a line on an unerring principle, that let it be that I draw from its extremities two intersecting arcs. β = If one bisects a line on an unerring principle, then one does so only as a result of having drawn from its extremities two intersecting arcs. (1) It is analytic that (so far as he is rational) he who wills the end wills the means. (2) It is analytic that (so far as one is rational) if one wills that A, and judges that if A, then A only as a result of B, then one wills that B. (3) It is analytic that (so far as one is rational) if one judges that if A, A as a result of B, then if one wills that A one wills that B. (4) It is analytic that if, if A, then A as a result of B, then, if let it be that A, then it must be that let it be that B. (5) It is analytic that if β, then α. Grice goes on to provide some Reconstruction Steps (1) Fundamental law that (ceteris paribus) for any creature x (for any A, B), if x wills A and judges that if A, then A as a result of B; then x wills B. (2) x wills that (for any A, B) if x wills A and judges that if A, A as a result of B, then x is to will that B. (3) x should (qua rational) judge that (for any A, B) if it is satisfactory to will that A and also satisfactory to judge that if A, A only as a result of B, then it is satisfactory to will that B. (4) x should (qua rational) judge that (for any A, B) if it is satisfactory that ! A and also satisfactory that if ⊢A, then ⊢A only as a result of B, then it is satisfactory that ! B. (5) x should (q.r.) judge that (for any A, B) if it is satisfactory that if ⊢A, ⊢A only because B, then it is satisfactory that, if let it be that A, then let it be that B. (6) x should (q.r.) judge that (for any A, B) if A, A only because B, yields if let it be that A, then let it be that B. (7) (For any A, B) if A, A only because B yields if let it be that A, then let it be that B. Fig. 4. Validation of Technical Acceptabilities end p.96 Prudential Acceptability It will be convenient to initiate the discussion of this topic by again referring to Kant. Kant thought that there is a special sub-class of Hypothetical Imperatives (which he called "counsels of prudence") which were like his class of Technical Imperatives, except in that the end specified in a full statement of the imperative is the special end of Happiness (one's happiness). To translate into my terminology, this seems to amount to the thesis that there is a special subclass of, for example, singular practical acceptability conditionals which exemplifies the structure "it is acceptable, given that let a (an individual) be happy, that let a be (do) G"; an additional indicative sub-antecedent ("that it is the case that a is F") might be sometimes needed, and could be added without difficulty. There would, presumably, be a corresponding special subclass of acceptability generalizations. The main characteristics which Kant would attribute to such prudential acceptability conditionals would, I think, be the following. (1) The foundation for such conditionals is exactly the same as that for technical imperatives; they would be treated as being, in principle, analytically consequences of indicative statements to the effect that so-and-so is a (the) means to such-and-such. The relation between my doing philosophy now and my being happy would be a causal relation not significantly different from the relation between my taking an aspirin and my being relieved of my headache. (2) However, though the relation would be the same, the question whether in fact my doing philosophy now will promote my happiness is insoluble; to solve it, I should have to be omniscient, since I should have to determine that my doing philosophy now would lead to "a maximum of welfare in my present and all future circumstances". (3) The special end (happiness) of specific prudential acceptability conditionals is one which we know that, as a matter of "natural necessity", every human being has; so, unlike technical imperatives, their applicability to himself cannot be disclaimed by any human being. end p.97 (4) Before we bring in the demands of morality (which will prescribe concern for our own happiness as a derivative duty), the only positive evaluation of a desire for one's happiness is an alethic evaluation; one ought to, or must, desire one's own happiness only in the sense that, whoever one may be, it is acceptable that it is the case that one desire one's own happiness; the 'ought' or 'must' is non-practical. (This position seems to me akin to a Humean appeal to 'natural dispositions', in place of justification.) I would wish to disagree with Kant in two, or possibly three, ways.(1) Kant, I think, did not devote a great deal of thought to the nature of happiness, no doubt because he regarded it as being of little importance to the philosophical foundations of morality. So it is not clear whether he regarded happiness as a distinct end from the variety of ends which one might pursue with a view to happiness, rather than as a complex end which includes (in some sense of 'include') some of such ends. If he did regard it as a distinct end, then I think he was wrong. (2) I think he was certainly wrong in thinking of something's being conducive to happiness as being on all fours with, say, something's being conducive to the relief of a headache; as, perhaps, a matter (in both cases) of causal relationship. (3) I would like to think him wrong in thinking that (morality apart) there is no practical interpretation of 'ought' in which one ought to pursue (desire, aim at) one's own happiness. We have, then, three not unconnected questions which demand some attention. (A) What is the nature of happiness? (B) In what sense (if any) (and why) should I desire, or aim at, my own happiness? (C) What is the nature of the connection between things which are conducive to happiness and happiness? (What, specifically, is implied by 'conducive'?) Though it is fiendishly difficult, I shall take up question (C) first. I trust that I will be forgiven if I do not present a full and coherent answer. Let us take a brief look at Aristotle. Aristotle was, I think, more sophisticated in this area. end p.98 (1) Though it is by no means beyond dispute, I am disposed to think that he did regard Happiness (eudaemonia) as a complex end 'containing' (in some sense) the ends which are constitutive of happiness; to use the jargon of recent commentators, I suspect he regarded it as an 'inclusive' and not a 'dominant' end. (2) He certainly thought that one should (practical 'should') aim at one's own happiness. (3) (The matter directly relevant to my present purpose.) I strongly suspect that he did not think that the relationship between, say, my doing philosophy and my happiness was a straightforward causal relationship. The passage which I have in mind is Nicomachean Ethics VI. 12, 13, where he distinguishes between wisdom ("practical wisdom") and cleverness (or, one might say, resourcefulness). He there makes the following statements: (a) that wisdom is not the same as cleverness, though like it, (b) that wisdom does not exist without cleverness, (c) that wisdom is always laudable (to be wise one must be virtuous), but cleverness is not always laudable, for example, in rogues, (d) that the relation between wisdom and cleverness is analogous to the relation between 'natural' virtue and virtue proper (he says this in the same place as he says (a)). Faced with these not exactly voluminous remarks, some commentators have been led (not I think without reluctance) to interpret Aristotle as holding that the only difference between wisdom and cleverness is that the former does, and the latter does not, require the presence of virtue; to be wise is simply to be clever in good causes. Apart from the fact that additional difficulties are generated thereby, with respect to the interpretation of Nicomachean Ethics VI, to attribute this view to Aristotle does not seem to indicate a very high respect for his wisdom, particularly as the text does not seem to demand such an interpretation. Following an idea once given me, long ago, by Austin, I would prefer to think of Aristotle as distinguishing between the characteristic manifestation of wisdom, namely, the ability to determine what one should do (what should be done), and the characteristic manifestation of cleverness, which is the ability to determine how to do what it is that should be done. On this interpretation cleverness would plainly be in a certain sense subordinate to wisdom, since opportunity for cleverness (and associated qualities) will only end p.99 arise after there has been some determination of what it is that is to be done. It may also be helpful (suggestive) to think of wisdom as being (or being assimilable to) administrative ability, with cleverness being comparable with executive ability. I would also like to connect cleverness, initially, with the ability to recognize (devise) technical acceptabilities (though its scope might be larger than this), while wisdom is shown primarily in other directions. On such assumptions, expansion of the still obscureAristotelian distinction is plainly a way of pursuing question (C), or questions closely related to it; for we will be asking what other kinds of acceptabilities (beyond 'technical' acceptabilities) we need in order to engage (or engage effectively) in practical reasoning. I fear my contribution here will be sketchy and not very systematic. We might start by exploring a little further the 'administrative/ executive' distinction, a distinction which, I must admit, is extremely hazy and also not at all hard and fast (lines might be drawn, in different cases, in quite different places). A boss tells his secretary that he will be travelling on business to suchand-such places, next week, and asks her to arrange travel and accommodation for him. I suspect that there is nothing peculiar about that. But suppose, instead of giving her those instructions, he had said to her that he wanted to travel on business somewhere or other, next week, and asked her to arrange destinations, matters to be negotiated, firms to negotiate with, and brief him about what to say to those whom he would visit. That would be a little more unusual, and the secretary might reply angrily, "I am paid to be your secretary, not to run your business for you, let alone run you." What (philosophically) differentiates the two cases? Let us call a desire or intention D which a man has at t "terminal for him at t" if there is no desire or intention which he has at t, which is more specific than D; if, for example, a man wanted at t a car, but it was also true of him that he wanted a Mercedes, then his desire for a car would not be terminal. Now I think we can (roughly) distinguish (at least) three ways in which a terminal desire may be non-specific. (1) D may be finitely non-specific; for example, a man may want a large, fierce dog (to guard his house) and not care at all what kind of large, fierce dog he acquired; any kind will do (at least within end p.100 some normal range). Furthermore, he does not envisage his attitude, that any kind will do, being changed when action-time comes; he will of course get some particular kind of dog, but what kind will simply depend on such things as availability. (2) D may be indeterminately non-specific: that is to say the desirer may recognize, and intend, that before he acts the desire or intention D should be made more specific than it is; he has decided, say, that he wants a large, fierce dog, but has not yet decided what kind he wants. It seems to me that an indeterminately non-specific desire or intention differs from a finitely non-specific desire in a way which is relevant to the application of the concept of 'meanstaking'. If the man with the finitely non-specific desire for a large, fierce dog decides on a mastiff, that would be (or at least could be) a case of choosing a mastiff as a means to having a large, fierce dog, but not something of which getting a large, fierce dog would be an effect. But, if the man with the indeterminate desire for a large, fierce dog decides that he wants a mastiff (as a further determination of that indeterminate desire), that is not a case of meanspicking at all. (3) There is a further kind of non-specificity which I mention only with a view to completeness: a desire D may be vaguely, or indefinitely, non-specific; a man may have decided that he wants a large, fierce dog, but it may not be very well defined what could count as a large, fierce dog; a mastiff would count, and a Pekinese would not, but what about a red setter? In such cases the desire or intention needs to be interpreted, but not to be further specified. With regard to the first two kinds of non-specificity, there are some remarks to be made. (1) We do not usually (if we are sensible) make our desires more determinate than the occasion demands; if getting a dog is not a present prospect, a man who decides exactly what kind of dog he would like is engaging in fantasy. (2) The final stage of determination may be left to the occasion of action; if I want to buy some fancy curtains, I may leave the full determination of the kind until I see them in the store. (3) Circumstances may change the status of a desire; a man may have a finitely non-specific desire for a dog until he talks to end p.101 his wife, who changes things for him (making his desire indeterminately non-specific). (4) Indeterminately non-specific desires may of course be founded (and well founded) on reasons, and so may be not merely desires one does have but also desires which one should have.We may now return to the boss and his secretary. It seems to me that what the 'normally' behaved boss does (assuming that he has a very new and inexperienced secretary) is to reach a finitely non-specific desire or intention (or a set of such), communicate these to his secretary, and leave to her the implementation of this (these) intention(s); he presumes that nothing which she will do, and no problem which she will encounter, will disturb his intention (for, within reasonable limits, he does not care what she does), even though her execution of her tasks may well involve considerable skill and diplomacy (deinotes). If she is more senior, then he may well not himself reach a finitely, but only an indeterminately, non-specific intention, leaving it to her to complete the determination and trusting her to do so more or less as he would himself. If she reaches a position in which she is empowered to make determinate his intentions not as she thinks he would think best, but as she thinks best, then I would say that she has ceased to be a secretary and has become an administrative assistant. This might be a convenient place to refer briefly to a distinction which is of some importance in practical thinking which is not just a matter of finding a means, of one sort or another, to an already fixed goal, and which is fairly closely related to the process of determination which I have been describing. This is the distinction between non-propositional ends, like power, wealth, skill at chess, gardening; and propositional or objective ends, like to get the Dean to agree with my proposal, or that my uncle should go to jail for his peculations of the family money. Non-propositional ends are in my view universals, the kind of items to be named by mass-terms or abstract nouns. I should like to regard their non-propositional appearance as genuine; I would like them to be not only things which we can be said to pursue, but also things which we can be said to care about; and I would not want to reduce 'caring about' to 'caring that', though of course there is an intimate end p.102 connection between these kinds of caring. I would like to make the following points. (1) Non-propositional ends enter into the most primitive kinds of psychological explanation; the behaviour of lower animals is to be explained in terms of their wanting food, not of their wanting (say) to eat an apple. (2) Non-propositional ends are characteristically variable in degree, and the degrees are valuationally ordered; for one who wants wealth, a greater degree of wealth is (normally) preferable to a lesser degree. (3) They are the type, I think, to which ultimate ends which are constitutive of happiness belong; and not without reason, since their non-propositional, and often non-temporal, character renders them fit members of an enduring system which is designed to guide conduct in particular cases. (4) The process of determination applies to them, indeed, starts with them; desire for power is (say) rendered more determinate as desire for political power; and objectives (to get the position of Prime Minister) may be reached by determination applied to non-propositional ends. (5) Though it is clear to me that the distinction exists, and that a number of particular items can be placed on one side or another of the barrier, there is a host of uncertain examples, and the distinction is not easy to apply. Let us now look at things from her (the secretary's) angle. First, many (indeed most) of the things she does, though perhaps cases of means-finding, will not be cases of finding means of the kind which philosophers usually focus on, namely, causal means. She gets him an air-ticket, which enables, but does not cause, him to travel to Kalamazoo, Michigan; she arranges by telephone for him to stay at the Hotel Goosepimple; his being booked in there is not an effect but an intended outcome of her conversation on the telephone; and his being booked in at that hotel is not a cause of his being booked at a hotel, but a way in which that situation or circumstance is realized. Second, if during her operations she discovers that there is an epidemic of yellow fever at Kalamazoo, she does not (unless she wishes to be fired) go blindly ahead and book him in; she consults him, because something has now happened end p.103 which will (if he knows of it) disturb his finitely non-specific intention; indeed may confront the boss with a plurality of conflicting (or apparently conflicting) ends or desiderata; a situation which is next in line for consideration. Before turning to it, however, I think I should remark that the kind of featureswhich have shown up in this interpersonal transaction are also characteristic of solitary deliberation, when the deliberator executes his own decisions. We are now, we suppose, at a stage at which the secretary has come back to the boss to announce that if she executes the task given her (implements the decision about what to do which he has reached), there is such-and-such a snag; that is, the decision can be implemented only at the cost of a consequence which will (or which she suspects may) dispromote some further end which he wants to promote, or promote some "counter-end" which he wants to dispromote. (1) We may remark that this kind of problem is not something which only arises after a finitely non-specific intention has been formed; exactly parallel problems are frequently, though not invariably, encountered on the way towards a finitely non-specific intention or desire. This prompts a further comment on Aristotle's remark that, though wisdom is not identical with cleverness, wisdom does not exist without cleverness. This dictum covers two distinct truths; first, that if a man were good at deciding what to do, but terrible at executing it (he makes a hash of working out train times, he is tactless with customs officials, he irritates hotel clerks into non-cooperation), one might hesitate to confer upon him the title 'wise'; at least a modicum of cleverness is required. Second, and more interestingly, cleverness is liable to be manifested at all stages of deliberation; every time a snag arises in connection with a tentative determination of one's will, provided that the snag is not blatantly obvious, some degree of cleverness is manifested in seeing that, if one does such-and-such (as one contemplates doing), then there will be the undesirable result that so-and-so. (2) The boss may now have to determine how 'deep' the snag is, how radically his plan will have to be altered to surmount it. To lay things out a bit, the boss might (in some sense of 'might'), in his deliberation, have formed successively a series of indeterminately non-specific intentions (I i , I ii , I iii , . . . I n ), where each end p.104 member is a more specific determination of its predecessor, and I n represents the final decision which he imparted to the secretary. He now (the idea is) goes back to this sequence to find the most general (least specific) member which is such that if he has that intention, then he is saddled with the unwanted consequences. He then knows where modification is required. Of course, in practice he may very well not have constructed such a convenient sequence; if he has not, then he has partially to construct one on receipt of the bad news from the secretary, to construct one (that is) which is just sufficiently well filled in to enable him to be confident that a particular element in it is the most generic intention of those he has, which generates the undesirable consequence. Having now decided which desire or intention to remove, how does he decide what to put in its place? How, in effect, does he 'compound' his surviving end or ends with the new desideratum, the attainment of the end (or the avoidance of the counter-end) which has been brought to light by the snag? Now I have to confess that in connection with this kind of problem, I used to entertain a certain kind of picture. Let us label (for simplicity) initially just two ends E1 and E2, with degrees of "objective desirability" d 1 and d 2 . For any action a 1 which might realize E1, or E2, there will be a certain probability p 1 that it will realize E1, a certain probability p 2 that it will realize E2, and a probability p 12 (a function of p 1 and p 2 ) that it will realize both. If E1 and E2 are inconsistent (again, for simplicity, let us suppose they are) p 12 will be zero. We can now, in principle, characterize the desirability of the action a 1 , relative to each end (E1 and E2), and to each combination of ends (here just E1 and E2), as a function of the desirability of the end and the probability that the action a 1 will realize that end, or combination of ends. If we envisage a range of possible actions, which includes a 1 together with other actions, we can imagine that each such action has a certain degree of desirability relative to each end (E1 and (or) E2) and to their combination. If we suppose that, for each possible action, these desirabilities can be compounded (perhaps added), then we can suppose that one particular possible action scored higher (in actiondesirability relative to these ends) than any alternative possible action; and that this is the action which wins out; that is, is the action which is, or at least should, end p.105 be performed. (The computation would in fact be more complex than I have described, once account is taken of the fact that the ends involved are often not definite (determinate) states of affairs(like becoming President), but are variable in respect of the degree to which they might be realized (if one's end is to make a profit from a deal, that profit might be of a varying magnitude); so one would have to consider not merely the likelihood of a particular action's realizing the end of making a profit, but also the likelihood of its realizing that end to this or that degree; and this would considerably complicate the computational problem.) No doubt most readers are far too sensible ever to have entertained any picture even remotely resembling the "Crazy-Bayesy" one I have just described. I was not, of course, so foolish as to suppose that such a picture represents the manner in which anybody actually decides what to do, though I did (at one point) consider the possibility that it might mirror, or reflect, a process actually taking place in the physiological underpinnings of psychological states (desires and beliefs), a process in the 'animal spirits', so to speak. I rather thought that it might represent an ideal, a procedure which is certainly unrealized in fact, and quite possibly one which is in principle unrealizable in fact, but still something to which the procedures we actually use might be thought of as approximations, something for which they are substitutes; with the additional thought that the closer the approximation the better the procedure. The inspirational source of such pictures as this seems to me to be the very pervasive conception of a mechanical model for the operations of the soul; desires are like forces to which we are subject; and their influence on us, in combination, is like the vectoring of forces. I am not at all sure that I regard this as a good model; the strength of its appeal may depend considerably on the fact that some model is needed, and that, if this one is not chosen, it is not clear what alternative model is available. If we are not to make use of any variant of my one-time picture, how are we to give a general representation of the treatment of conflicting or competing ends? It seems to me that, for example, the accountant with the injured wife in Boise might, in the first instance, try to keep everything, to fulfil all relevant ends; he might think of telephoning Redwood City to see if his firm could postpone for a week the preparation of their accounts. If this is end p.106 ineffective, then he would operate on some system of priorities. Looking after his wife plainly takes precedence over attention to his firm's accounting, and over visiting his mother. But having settled on measures which provide adequately for his wife's needs, he then makes whatever adjustments he can to provide for the ends which have lost the day. What he does not do, as a rule, is to compromise; even with regard to his previous decision involving the conflict between the claims of his firm and his mother, substantially he adopted a plan which would satisfy the claims of the firm, incorporating therein a weekend with mother as a way of doing what he could for her, having given priority to the claims of the firm. Such systems of priorities seem to me to have, among their significant features, the following. (1) They may be quite complex, and involve sub-systems of priorities within a single main level of priority. It may be that, for me, family concerns have priority over business concerns; and also that, within the area of family concerns, matters affecting my children have priority over matters concerning Aunt Jemima, whs been living with us all these years. (2) There is a distinction between a standing, relatively long-term system of priorities, and its application to particular occasions, with what might be thought of as divergences between the two. Even though my relations with my children have, in general, priority over my relations with Aunt Jemima, on a particular occasion I may accord priority to spending time with Aunt Jemima to get her out of one of her tantrums over taking my son to the zoo to see the hippopotami. It seems to me that a further important feature of practical thinking, which plays its part in simplifying the handling of problems with which such thinking is concerned, is what I might call its 'revisionist' character (in a non-practical sense of that term). Our desires, and ascriptions of desirability, may be relative in more than one way. They may be 'desire-relative' in that my desiring A, or my regarding A as desirable, may be dependent on my desiring, or regarding as desirable, B; the desire for, or the desirability of, A may be parasitic on a desire for, or the desirability of, B. This is the familiar case of A's being desired, or desirable for the sake of B. But desires and desirabilities may be relative in another slightly less banal way, which end p.107 (initially) one might think of as 'fact-relativity'. They may be relative to some actual or supposed prevailing situation; and, relative to such prevailing situations, things may be desired or thought desirablewhich would not normally be so regarded. A man who has been sentenced to be hanged, drawn, and quartered may be relieved and even delighted when he hears that the sentence has been changed to beheading; and a man whose wealth runs into hundreds of millions may be considerably upset if he loses a million or so on a particular transaction. Indeed, sometimes, one is led to suspect that the richer one is, the more one is liable to mind such decrements; witness the story, no doubt apocryphal, that Paul Getty had pay-telephones installed in his house for the use of his guests. The phenomenon of 'fact-relativity' seems to reach at least to some extent into the area of moral desirabilities. It can be used, I think, to provide a natural way of disposing of the Good Samaritan paradox; and if one recalls the parable of the Prodigal Son, one may reflect that what incensed the for so long blameless son was that there should be all that junketing about a fact-relative desirability manifested by his errant brother; why should one get a party for that? It perhaps fits in very well with these reflections that our practical thinking, or a great part of it, should be revisionist or incremental in character; that what very frequently happens is that we find something in the prevailing situation (or the situation anticipated as prevailing) which could do with improvement or remove a blemish. We do not, normally, set to work to construct a minor Utopia. It is notable that aversions play a particularly important role in incremental deliberations; and it is perhaps just that (up to a point) the removal of objects of aversion should take precedence over the installation of objects of desire. If I have to do without something which I desire, the desired object is not (unless the desire is extreme) constantly present in imagination to remind me that I am doing without it; but if I have to do or have something which I dislike, the object of aversion is present in reality, and so difficult to escape. This revisionist kind of thinking seems to me to extend from the loftiest problems (how to plan my life, which becomes how to improve on the pattern which prevails) to the smallest (how to arrange the furniture); and it extends also, at the next move so to speak, to the projected improvements which I entertain in thought; I seek to improve on them; a master chess-player, end p.108 it is said, sees at once what would be a good move for him to make; all his thought is devoted to trying to find a better one. When one looks at the matter a little more closely, one sees that 'fact-relative' desirability is really desirability relative to an anticipated, expected, or feared temporal extension of the actual state of affairs which prevails (an extension which is not necessarily identical with what prevails, but which will come about unless something is done about it). And looked at a little more closely still, such desires or desirabilities are seen to be essentially comparative; what we try for is thought of as better than the anticipated state which prompts us to try for it. This raises the large and difficult question, how far is desirability of its nature comparative? Is it just that the pundits have not yet given us a non-comparative concept of desirability, or is there something in the nature of desire, or in the use we want to make of the concept of desirability, which is a good reason why we cannot have, or should not have, a noncomparative concept? Or, perhaps, we do have one, which operates only in limited regions? Certainly we do not have to think in narrowly incremental ways, as is attested by those who seek to comfort us (or discomfort us) by getting us to count our blessings (or the reverse); by, for example, pointing out that being beheaded is not really so hot, or that, if you have 200 million left after a bad deal, you are not doing so badly. Are such comforters abandoning comparative desirability, or are they merely shifting the term of comparison? Do we find non-comparative desirability (perhaps among other regions) in moral regions? If we say that a man is honest, we are likely to mean that he is at least not less honest than the average; but we do not expect a man, who wants or tries to be honest, just to want or try to be averagely honest. Nor do we expect him to aspire to supreme or perfect honesty (that might be a trifle presumptuous). We do expect, perhaps, that he try to be as honest as he can, which may mean that we don't expect him to form aspirations with regard to a lifetime record of any sort for honesty, but we do expect him to try on each occasion, or limited bunch of occasions, to be impeccably honest on those occasions, even though we know (and he knows) that on some occasions at some times there will or may be lapses. If something like this interpretation be correct, it may correspond to a general feature of universals (non-propositional ends) of which one cannot have end p.109 too much, a type of which certain moral universals are specimens; desirabilities in the case of such universals are, perhaps, not comparative. But these are unworked-out speculations.To summarize briefly this rambling, hopefully somewhat diagnostic, and certainly unsystematic discussion. I have suggested, in a preliminary enquiry into practical acceptability which is other than technical acceptability: (1) that practical thinking, which is not just means-end thinking, includes the determination or sharpening of antecedently indeterminate desires and intentions; (2) that means-end thinking is involved in the process of such determination; (3) that a certain sort of computational model may not be suitable; (4) that systems of priorities, both general and tailored to occasions, are central; (5) that much, though not perhaps all, of practical thinking is revisionist and comparative in character. I turn now to a brief consideration of questions (A) and (B) which I distinguished earlier, and left on one side. These questions are: (A) What is the nature of happiness? (B) In what sense, and why, should I desire or aim at my own happiness? I shall take them together. First, question (B) seems to me to divide, on closer examination, into three further questions. (1) Is there justification for the supposition that one should, other things being equal, voluntarily continue one's existence, rather than end it? (2) (Given that the answer to (1) is 'yes'.) Is there justification for the idea that one should desire or seek to be happy? (3) (Given that the answer to (2) is 'yes'.) Is there a way of justifying (evaluating favourably) the acceptance of some particular set of ends (as distinct from all other such sets) as constitutive of happiness (or of my happiness)? end p.110 The second and third questions, particularly the third, are closely related to, and likely to be dependent on, the account of happiness provided in answer to question (A); indeed, such an account might wholly or partly provide an answer to question (3), since "happiness" might turn out to be a valueparadigmatic term, the meaning of which dictates that to be happy is to have a combination of ends which (the combination) is valuable with respect to some particular purpose or point of view. I shall say nothing about the first two questions; one or both of these would, I suspect, require a careful treatment of the idea of Final Causes, which so far I have not even mentioned. I will discuss the third question and question (A) in the next chapter. end p.111 5 Some Reflections About Ends and Happiness I The topic which I have chosen is one which eminently deserves a thorough, systematic, and fully theoretical treatment; such an approach would involve, I suspect, a careful analysis of the often subtly different kinds of state which may be denoted by the word 'want', together with a comprehensive examination of the role which different sorts of wanting play in the psychological equipment of rational (and non-rational) creatures. While I hope to touch on matters of this sort, I do not feel myself to be quite in a position to attempt an analysis of this kind, which would in any case be a very lengthy undertaking. So, to give direction to my discussion, and to keep it within tolerable limits, I shall relate it to some questions arising out of Aristotle's handling of this topic in the Nicomachean Ethics; such a procedure on my part may have the additional advantage of emphasizing the idea, in which I believe, that the proper habitat for such great works of the past as the Nicomachean Ethics is not the museums but the marketplaces of philosophy. My initial Aristotelian question concerns two conditions which Aristotle supposes to have to be satisfied by whatever is to be recognized as being the good for man. At the beginning of Nicomachean Ethics I. 4, Aristotle notes that there is general agreement that the good for man is to be identified with eudaemonia (which may or may not be well rendered as 'happiness'), and that this in turn is to be identified with living well and with doing well; but remarks that there is large-scale disagreement with respect to any further and more informative specification of eudaemonia. In I. 7 he seeksend p.112 to confirm the identification of the good for man with eudaemonia by specifying two features, maximal finality (unqualified finality) and self-sufficiency, which, supposedly, both are required of anything which is to qualify as the good for man, and are also satisfied by eudaemonia. 'Maximal finality' is defined as follows: "Now we call that which is in itself worthy of pursuit more final than that which is worthy of pursuit for the sake of something else, and that which is never desirable for the sake of something else more final than the things which are desirable both in themselves and for the sake of that other thing, and therefore we call final without qualification that which is always desirable in itself and never for the sake of something else." Eudaemonia seems (intuitively) to satisfy this condition; such things as honour, pleasure, reason, and virtue (the most popular candidates for identification with the good for man and with eudaemonia) are chosen indeed for themselves (they would be worthy of choice even if nothing resulted from them); but they are also chosen for the sake of eudaemonia, since "we judge that by means of them we shall be happy". Eudaemonia, however, is never chosen for the sake of anything other than itself. After some preliminaries, the relevant sense of 'self-sufficiency' is defined thus: "The selfsufficient we now define as that which when isolated makes life desirable and lacking in nothing." Eudaemonia, again, appears to satisfy this condition too; and Aristotle adds the possibly important comment that eudaemonia is thought to be "the most desirable of all things, without being counted as one good thing among others". This remark might be taken to suggest that, in Aristotle's view, it is not merely true that the possession of eudaemonia cannot be improved upon by the addition of any other good, but it is true because eudaemonia is a special kind of good, one which it would be inappropriate to rank alongside other goods. This passage in Nicomachean Ethics raises in my mindseveral queries: (1) It is, I suspect, normally assumed by commentators that Aristotle thinks of eudaemonia as being the only item which satisfies the condition of maximal finality. This uniqueness claim is not, however, explicitly made in the passage (nor, so far as I can recollect, elsewhere); nor is it clear to me that if it were made it end p.113 would be correct. Might it not be that, for example, lazing in the sun is desired, and is desirable, for its own sake, and yet is not something which is also desirable for the sake of something else, not even for the sake of happiness? If it should turn out that there is a distinction, within the class of things desirable for their own sake (I-desirables), between those which are also desirable for the sake of eudaemonia (H-desirables) and those which are not, then the further question arises whether there is any common feature which distinguishes items which are (directly) H-desirable, and, if so, what it is. This question will reappear later. (2) Aristotle claims that honour, reason, pleasure, and virtue are all both I-desirable and Hdesirable. But, at this stage in the Nicomachean Ethics, these are uneliminated candidates for identification with eudaemonia; and, indeed, Aristotle himself later identifies, at least in a sort of way, a special version of one of them (metaphysical contemplation) with eudaemonia. Suppose that it were to be established that one of these candidates (say, honour) is successful. Would not Aristotle then be committed to holding that honour is both desirable for its own sake, and also desirable for the sake of something other than honour, namely, eudaemonia, that is, honour? It is not clear, moreover, that this prima facie inconsistency can be eliminated by an appeal to the non-extensionality of the context "——is desirable". For while the argument-pattern 'α is desirable for the sake of β, β is identical with γ; so, α is desirable for the sake of γ' may be invalid, it is by no means clear that the argument-pattern 'α is desirable for the sake of β, necessarily β is identical with γ; so, α is desirable for the sake of γ' is invalid. And, if it were true that eudaemonia is to be identified with honour, this would presumably be a non-contingent truth. (3) Suppose the following: (a) playing golf and playing tennis are each I-desirables, (b) each is conducive to physical fitness, which is itself I-desirable, (c) that a daily round of golf and a daily couple of hours of tennis are each sufficient for peak physical fitness, and (if you like, for simplicity), (d) that there is no third route to physical fitness. Now, X and Y accept all these suppositions; X plays golf daily, and Y plays both golf and tennis daily. It seems difficult to deny, first, that it is quite conceivable that allof the sporting activities of these gentlemen are undertaken both for their own sake and also for the sake of physical fitness, and, second, that (pro end p.114 tanto) the life of Y is more desirable than the life of X, since Y has the value of playing tennis while X does not. The fact that in Y's life physical fitness is overdetermined does not seem to be a ground for denying that he pursues both golf and tennis for the sake of physical fitness; if we wished to deny this, it looks as if we could, in certain circumstances, be faced with the unanswerable question, "If he doesn't pursue each for the sake of physical fitness, then which one does he pursue for physical fitness?" Let us now consider how close an analogy to this example we can construct if we search for one which replaces references to physical fitness by references to eudaemonia. We might suppose that X and Y have it in common that they have distinguished academic lives, satisfying family situations, and are healthy and prosperous; that they value, and rightly value, these aspects of their existences for their own sakes and also regard them as contributing to their eudaemonia. Each regards himself as a thoroughly happy man. But Y, unlike X, also composes poetry, an activity which he cares about and which he also thinks of as something which contributes to his eudaemonia; the time which Y devotes to poetic endeavour is spent by X pottering about the house doing nothing in particular. We now raise the question whether or not Y's life is more desirable than X's, on the grounds that it contains an I-desirable element, poetic composition, which X's life does not contain, and that there is no counterbalancing element present in X's life but absent in Y's. One conceivable answer would be that Y's life is indeed more desirable than X's, since it contains an additional value, but that this fact is consistent with their being equal in respect of eudaemonia, in line with the supposition that each regards himself as thoroughly happy. If we give this answer we, in effect, reject the Aristotelian idea that eudaemonia is, in the appropriate sense, self-sufficient. There seems to me, however, to be good reason not to give this answer. Commentators have disagreed about the precise interpretation of the word "eudaemonia", but none, so far as I know, has suggested what I think of as much the most plausible conjecture; namely, that "eudaemonia" is to be understood as the name for that state or condition which one's good daemon would (if he could) ensure for one; and my good daemon is a being motivated, with respect to me, solely by concern for my well-being or happiness. end p.115 To change the idiom, "eudaemonia" is the general characterization of what a full-time and unhampered fairy godmother would secure for you. The identifications regarded by Aristotle as unexcitingly correct, of eudaemonia with doing well and with living well, now begin to look like necessary truths. If this interpretation of "eudaemonia" is correct (as I shall brazenly assume) then it would be quite impossible for Y's life to be more desirable than X's, though X and Y are equal in respect of eudaemonia; for this would amount to Y's being better off than X, though both are equally well-off. Various other possible answers remain. It might be held that not only is Y's life more desirable than X's, but Y is more eudaemon (better off) than X. This idea preserves the proposed conceptual connection between eudaemonia and being well-off, and relies on the not wholly implausible principle that the addition of a value to a life enhances the value of that life (whatever, perhaps, the liver may think). One might think of such a principle, when more fully stated, as laying down or implying that any increase in the combined value of the H-desirable elements realized in a particular life is reflected, in a constant proportion, in an increase in the degree of happiness or well-being exemplified by that life; or, more cautiously, that the increase in happiness is not determined by a constant proportion, but rather in some manner analogous to the phenomenon of diminishing marginal utility. I am inclined to see the argument of this chapter as leading towards a discreet erosion of the idea that the degree of a particular person's happiness is the value of a function the arguments of which are measures of the particular Hdesirables realized in that person's life, no matter what function is suggested; but at the present moment it will be sufficient to cast doubt on the acceptability of any of the crudest versions of this idea. To revert to the case of X and Y: it seems to me that when we speak of the desirability of X's life or of Y's life, the desirability of which we are speaking is the desirability of that life from the point of view of the person whose life it is; and that it is therefore counterintuitive to suppose that, for example, X who thinks of himself as "perfectly happy" and so not to be made either better off or more happy (though perhaps more accomplished) by an injection of poetry composition, should be making a misassessment of what his stateof well-being would be if the composition of poetry were added to his occupation. Furthermore, if the pursuit end p.116 of happiness is to be the proper end, or even a proper end, of living, to suppose that the added realization of a further H-desirable to a life automatically increases the happiness or well-being of the possessor of that life will involve a commitment to an ethical position which I, for one, find somewhat unattractive; one would be committed to advocating too unbridled an eudaemonic expansionism. A more attractive position would be to suppose that we should invoke, with respect to the example under consideration, an analogue not of diminishing marginal utility, but of what might be called vanishing marginal utility; to suppose, that is, that X and Y are, or at least may be, equally well-off and equally happy even though Y's life contains an H-desirable element which is lacking in X's life; that at a certain point, so to speak, the bucket of happiness is filled, and no further inpouring of realized Hdesirables has any effect on its contents. This position would be analogous to the view I adopted earlier with respect to the possible overdetermination of physical fitness. Even should this position be correct, it must be recognized that the really interesting work still remains to be done; that would consist in the characterization of the conditions which determine whether the realization of a particular set of Hdesirables is sufficient to fill the bucket. The main result, then, of the discussion has been to raise two matters for exploration; first, the possibility of a distinction between items which are merely I-desirable and items which are not only Idesirable but also H-desirable; and, second, the possibility that the degree of happiness exemplified by a life may be overdetermined by the set of H-desirables realized in that life, together with the need to characterize the conditions which govern such overdetermination. (4) Let us move in a different direction. I have already remarked that, with respect to the desirability-status of happiness and of the means thereto, Aristotle subscribed to two theses, with which I have no quarrel (or, at least, shall voice no quarrel). (A) That some things are both I-desirable and H-desirable (are both ends in themselves and also means to happiness). (B) That happiness, while desirable in itself, is not desirable for the sake of any further end. end p.117 I have suggested the possibility that a further thesis might be true (though I have not claimed that it is true), namely: (C) That some things are I-desirable without being H-desirable (and, one might add, perhaps without being desirable for the sake of any further end, in which case happiness will not be the only item which is not desirable for the sake of any further end). But there are two further as yet unmentioned theses which I am inclined to regard as being not only true, but also important: first, (D) Any item which is directly H-desirable must be I-desirable. And second, (E) Happiness is attainable only via the realization of items which are I-desirable (and also of course H-desirable). Thesis (D) would allow that an item could be indirectly H-desirable without being I-desirable; engaging in morning press-ups could be such an item, but only if it were desirable for the sake of (let us say) playing cricket well, which would plainly be itself an item which was both I-desirable and Hdesirable. A thesis related to (D), namely, (D′). (An item can be directly conducive to the happiness of an individual x only if it is regarded by x as being I-desirable) seems to me very likely to be true; the question whether not only (D′) but (D) are true would depend on whether a man who misconceives (if that be possible) certain items as being I-desirable could properly be said to achieve happiness through the realization of those items. To take an extreme case, could a wicked man who pervertedly regards cheating others in an ingenious way as being I-desirable, and who delights in so doing, properly be said to be (pro tanto) achieving happiness? I think Aristotle would answer negatively, and I am rather inclined to side with him; but I recognize that there is much to debate. A consequence of thesis (D), if true, would be that there cannot be a happiness-pill (a pill the taking of which leads directly tohappiness); there could be (and maybe there is) a pill which leads directly to "feeling good" or to euphoria; but these states would have to be distinguishable from happiness. Thesis (E) would imply that happiness is essentially a dependent state; happiness cannot just happen; its realization is conditional end p.118 upon the realization of one or more items which give rise to it. Happiness should be thought of adverbially; to be happy is, for some x, to x happily or with happiness. And reflection on the interchangeability or near-interchangeability of the ideas of happiness and of well-being would suggest that the adverbial in question is an evaluation adverbial. The importance, for present purposes, of the two latest theses is to my mind that questions are now engendered about the idea that items which are chosen (or desirable) for the sake of happiness can be thought of as items which are chosen (or desirable) as means to happiness, at least if the means-end relation is conceived as it seems very frequently to be conceived in contemporary philosophy; if, that is, x is a means to y just in case the doing or producing of x designedly causes (generates, has as an effect) the occurrence of y. For, if items the realization of which give rise to happiness were items which could be, in the above sense, means to happiness, (a) it should be conceptually possible for happiness to arise otherwise than as a consequence of the occurrence of any such items, and (b) it seems too difficult to suppose that so non-scientific a condition as the possession of intrinsic desirability should be a necessary condition of an item's giving rise to happiness. In other words, theses (D) and (E) seem to preclude the idea that what directly gives rise to happiness can be, in the currently favoured sense, a means to happiness. The issue which I have just raised is closely related to a scholarly issue which has recently divided Aristotelian commentators; battles have raged over the question whether Aristotle conceived of eudaemonia as a 'dominant' or as an 'inclusive' end. The terminology derives, I believe, from W. F. R. Hardie; but I cite a definition of the question which is given by Ackrill in a recent paper: "By 'an inclusive end' might be meant any end combining or including two or more values or activities or goods . . . By 'a dominant end' might be meant a monolithic end, an end consisting of just one valued activity or good."1 One's initial reaction to this formulation may fall short of overwhelming enlightenment, among other things, perhaps, because the verb 'include' appears within end p.119 the characterization of an inclusive end. I suspect, however, that this deficiency could be properly remedied only by a logicometaphysical enquiry into the nature of the 'inclusion relation' (or, rather, the family of inclusion relations), which would go far beyond the limits of my present undertaking. But, to be less ambitious, let us, initially and provisionally, think of an inclusive end as being a set of ends. If happiness is in this sense an inclusive end, then we can account for some of the features displayed in the previous section. Happiness will be dependent on the realization of subordinate ends, provided that the set of ends constituting happiness may not be the empty set (a reasonable, if optimistic, assumption). Since the "happiness set" has as its elements I-desirables, what is desirable directly for the sake of happiness must be I-desirable. And if it should turn out to be the case, contrary perhaps to the direction of my argument in the last section, that the happiness set includes all I-desirables, then we should have difficulty in finding any end for the sake of which happiness would be desirable. So far so good, perhaps; but so far may not really be very far at all. Some reservation about the treatment of eudaemonia as an inclusive end is hinted at by Ackrill: It is not necessary to claim that Aristotle has made quite clear how there may be 'components' in the best life or how they may be interrelated. The very idea of constructing a compound end out of two or more independent ends may arouse suspicion. Is the compound to be thought of as a mere aggregate or as an organized system? If the former, the move to eudaemonia seems trivial—nor is it obvious that goods can be just added together. If the latter, if there is supposed to be a unifying plan, what is it?2 From these very pertinent questions, Ackrill detaches himself, on the grounds that his primary concern is with the exposition and not with the justification of Aristotle's thought. But we cannot avail ourselves of this rain check, and so the difficulties which Ackrill touches on must receive further exposure.Let us suppose a next-to-impossible world W, in which there are just three I-desirables, which are also H-desirables, A, B, and C. If you like, you may think of these as being identical, respectively, with honour, wealth, and virtue. If, in general, happiness is end p.120 to be an inclusive end, happiness-in-W will have as its components A, B, and C, and no others. Now one might be tempted to suppose that, since it is difficult or impossible to deny that to achieve happiness-in-W it is necessary and also sufficient to realize A, to realize B, and to realize C, anyone who wanted to realize A, wanted to realize B, and wanted to realize C would ipso facto be someone who wanted to achieve happiness-in-W. But there seems to me to be a good case for regarding such an inference as invalid. To want to achieve happiness-in-W might be equivalent to wanting to realize A and to realize B and to realize C, or indeed to wanting A and B and C; but there are relatively familiar reasons for allowing that, with respect to a considerable range of psychological verbs (represented by 'ψ'), one cannot derive from a statement of the form 'x ψ's (that) A and x ψ's (that) B' a statement of the form 'x ψ's (that) A and B'. For instance, it seems to me a plausible thesis that there are circumstances in which we should want to say of someone that he believed that p and that he believed that q, without being willing to allow that he believed that both p and q. The most obvious cases for the application of the distinction would perhaps be cases in which p and q are inconsistent; we can perhaps imagine someone of whom we should wish to say that he believed that he was a grotesquely incompetent creature, and that he also believed that he was a world-beater, without wishing to say of him that he believed that he was both grotesquely incompetent and a world-beater. Inconsistent beliefs are not, or are not necessarily, beliefs in inconsistencies. Whatever reasons there may be for allowing that a man may believe that p and believe that q without believing that p and q would, I suspect, be mirrored in reasons for allowing that a man may want A and want B without wanting both A and B; if I want a holiday in Rome, and also want some headache pills, it does not seem to me that ipso facto I want a holiday in Rome and some headache pills. Moreover, even if we were to sanction the disputed inference, it would not, I think, be correct to make the further supposition that a man who wants A and B (simply as a consequence of wanting A and wanting B) would, or even could, want A (or want B) for the sake of, or with a view to, realizing A and B. So even if, in world W, a man could be said to want A and B and C, on the strength of wanting each one of them, some further condition would end p.121 have to be fulfilled before we could say of him that he wanted each of them for the sake of realizing A and B and C, that is, for the sake of achieving happiness-in-W. In an attempt to do justice to the idea that happiness should be treated as being an 'inclusive' end, let me put forward a modest proposal; not, perhaps, the only possible proposal, but one which may seem reasonably intuitive. Let us categorize, for present purposes, the I-desirables in world W as 'universals'. I propose that to want, severally, each of these I-desirables should be regarded as equivalent to wanting the set whose members are just those I-desirables, with the understanding that a set of universals is not itself a universal. So to want A, want B, and want C is equivalent to wanting the set whose members are A, B, and C ('the happinessin-W set'). To want happiness-in-W requires satisfaction of the stronger condition of wanting A and B and C, which in turn is equivalent to wanting something which is a universal, namely, a compound universal in which are included just those universals which are elements of the happiness-inW set. I shall not attempt to present a necessary and sufficient condition for the fulfilment of the stronger rather than merely of the weaker condition; but I shall suggest an important sufficient condition for this state of affairs. The condition is the following: for x to want the conjunction of the members of a set, rather than merely for him to want, severally, each member of the set, it is sufficient that his wanting, severally, each member of the set should be explained by (have as one of its explanations) the fact that there is an 'open' feature F which is believed by x to be exemplified by the set, and the realization of which is desired by x. By an open feature I mean a feature the specification of which does not require the complete enumeration of the items which exemplify it. To illustrate, a certain Oxford don at one time desired to secure for himself the teaching, in his subject, at the colleges of Somerville, St Hugh's, St Hilda's, Lady Margaret Hall, and St Anne's. (He failed, by two colleges.) This compound desire was based on the fact that the named colleges constituted the totality of women's colleges in Oxford, and he desired the realization of the open feature consisting in his teaching, in his subject, at all the women's colleges in Oxford. This sufficient condition is important in that it is, I think, fulfilled with respect to all compound desires which are rational, as distinct from end p.122 arbitrary or crazy. There can be, of course, genuinely compound desires which are non-rational, and I shall not attempt to specify the condition which distinguishes them; but perhaps I do not need to, since I think we may take it as a postulate that, if a desire for happiness is a compound desire, it is a rational compound desire. The proposal which I have made does, I think, conform to acceptable general principles for metaphysical construction. For it provides for the addition to an initially given category of items ('universals') of a special sub-category ('compound universals') which are counterparts of certain items which are not universals but rather sets of universals. It involves, so to speak, the conversion of certain non-universals into 'new' universals, and it seems reasonable to suppose that the purpose of this conversion is to bring these non-universals, in a simple and relatively elegant way, within the scope of laws which apply to universals. It must be understood that by 'laws' I am referring to theoretical generalities which belong to any of a variety of kinds of theory, including psychological, practical, and moral theories; so among such laws will be laws of various kinds relating to desires for ends and for means to ends. If happiness is an inclusive end, and if, for it to be an inclusive end the desire for which is rational, there must be an open feature which is exemplified by the set of components of happiness, our next task is plainly to attempt to identify this feature. To further this venture I shall now examine, within the varieties of means-end relation, what is to my mind a particularly suggestive kind of case. II At the start of this section I shall offer a brief sketch of the varieties, or of some of the varieties, of means-end relation; this is a matter which is interesting in itself, which is largely neglected in contemporary philosophy, and which I am inclined to regard as an important bit of background in the present enquiry. I shall then consider a particular class of cases in our ordinary thinking about means and ends, which might be called cases of 'end-fixing', and which might provide an important modification to our consideration of the idea that happiness is an inclusive end. end p.123 I shall introduce the term 'is contributive to' as a general expression for what I have been calling 'means-end' relation, and I shall use the phrase 'is contributive in way w to' to refer, in a general way, to this or that particular specific form of the contributiveness relation. I shall, for convenience, assume that anyone who thinks of some state of affairs or action as being contributive to the realization of a certain universal would have in mind that specific form of contributiveness which would be appropriate to the particular case. We may now say, quite unstartlingly, that x wants to do A for the sake of B just in case x wants to do A because (1) x regards his doing A as something which would be contributive in way w to the realization of B, and (2) x wants B. That leaves us the only interesting task, namely, that of giving the range of specific relations one element in which will be picked out by the phrase 'contributive in way w', once A and B are specified. The most obvious mode of contributiveness, indeed one which has too often been attended to to the exclusion of all others, is that of causal antecedence; x's contributing to y here consists in x's being the (or a) causal origin of y. But even within this mode there may be more complexity than meets the eye. The causal origin may be an initiating cause, which triggers the effect in the way in which flipping a switch sets off illumination in a light bulb; or it may be a sustaining cause, the continuation of which is required in order to maintain the effect in being. In either case, the effect may be either positive or negative; I may initiate a period of non-talking in Jones by knocking him cold, or sustain one by keeping my hand over his mouth. A further dimension, in respect of which examples of each variety of causal contributiveness may vary, is that of conditionality. Doing A may be desired as something which will, given the circumstances which obtain, unconditionally originate the realization of B, or as something which will do so provided that a certain possibility is fulfilled. A specially important subclass of cases of conditional causal contributiveness is the class of cases in which the relevant possibility consists in the desire or will of some agent, either the means-taker or someone else, that B should be realized; these arecases in which x wants to do A in order to enable, or to make it possible for, himself (or someone else) to achieve the realization of B; as when, for example, x puts a corkscrew in his pocket to enable him later, should be wish to do so, to open a bottle of wine. end p.124 But, for present purposes, the more interesting modes of contributiveness may well be those other than that of causal contributiveness. These include the following types. (1) Specificatory contributiveness. To do A would, in the prevailing circumstances, be a specification of, or a way of, realizing B; it being understood that, for this mode of contributiveness, B is not to be a causal property, a property consisting in being such as to cause the realization of C, where C is some further property. A host's seating someone at his right-hand side at dinner may be a specification of treating him with respect; waving a Union Jack might be a way of showing loyalty to the Crown. In these cases, the particular action which exemplifies A is the same as the item which exemplifies B. Two further modes involve relations of inclusion, of one or another of the types to which such relations may belong. (2) To do A may contribute to the realization of B by including an item which realizes B. I may want to take a certain advertised cruise because it includes a visit to Naples. (3) To do A may contribute to the realization of B by being included in an item which realizes B. Here we may distinguish more than one kind of case. A and B may be identical; I may, for example, be hospitable to someone today because I want to be hospitable to him throughout his visit to my town. In such a case the exemplification of B (hospitality) by the whole (my behaviour to him during the week) will depend on a certain distribution of exemplifications of B among the parts, such as my behaviour on particular days. We might call this kind of dependence "componentdependence". In other cases A and B are distinct, and in some of these (perhaps all) B cannot, if it is exemplified by the whole, also be exemplified by any part. These further cases subdivide in ways which are interesting but not germane to the present enquiry. We are now in a position to handle, not quite as Aristotle did, a 'paradox' about happiness raised by Aristotle, which involves Solon's dictum "Call no man happy till he is dead". I give a simplified, but I hope not distorted, version of the 'paradoxical' line of argument. If we start by suggesting that happiness is the end for man, we shall have to modify this suggestion, replacing "happiness" by "happiness in a complete life". (Aristotle himself end p.125 applies the qualification "in a complete life" not to happiness, but to what he gives as constituted of happiness, namely, activity of soul in accordance with excellence). For, plainly, a life which as a whole exemplifies happiness is preferable to one which does not. But since lifelong happiness can only be exemplified by a whole life, non-predictive knowledge that the end for man is realized with respect to a particular person is attainable only at the end of the person's life, and so not (except possibly at the time of his dying gasp) by the person himself. But this is paradoxical, since the end for man should be such that non-predictive knowledge of its realization is available to those who achieve its realization. I suggest that we need to distinguish non-propositional, attributive ends, such as happiness, and propositional ends or objectives, such as that my life, as a whole, should be happy. Now it is not in fact clear that people do, or even should, desire lifelong happiness; it may be quite in order not to think about this as an objective. And, even if one should desire lifelong happiness, it is not clear that one should aim at it, that one should desire, and do, things for the sake of it. But let us waive these objections. The attainment of lifelong happiness, an objective, consists in the realization, in a whole life, of the attributive end happiness. This realization is component-dependent; it depends on a certain distribution of realizations of that same end in episodes or phases of that life. But these realizations are certainly nonpredictively knowable by the person whose life it is. So, if we insist that to specify the end for man is to specify an attributive end and not an objective, then the 'paradox' disappears. The special class of cases to which one might be tempted to apply the term 'end-fixing' may be approached in the following way. For any given mode of contributiveness, say causal contributiveness, the same final position, that x wants (intends, does) A as contributive to the realization of B, may be reached through more than one process of thought. In line with the canonical Aristotelian model, x maydesire to realize B, then enquire what would lead to B, decide that doing A would lead to B, and so come to want, and to do, A. Alternatively, the possibility of doing A may come to his mind, he then enquires what doing A would lead to, sees that it would lead to B, which he wants, and so he comes to want, and perhaps do, A. I now ask whether there are cases in which the following end p.126 conditions are met: (1) doing A is fixed or decided, not merely entertained as a possibility, in advance of the recognition of it as desirable with a view to B, and (2) that B is selected as an end, or as an end to be pursued on this occasion, at least partly because it is something which doing A will help to realize. A variety of candidates, not necessarily good ones, come to mind. (1) A man who is wrecked on a desert island decides to use his stay there to pursue what is a new end for him, namely, the study of the local flora and fauna. Here doing A (spending time on the island) is fixed but not chosen; and the specific performances, which some might think were more properly regarded as means to the pursuit of this study, are not fixed in advance of the adoption of the end. (2) A man wants (without having a reason for so wanting) to move to a certain town; he is uncomfortable with irrational desires (or at least with this irrational desire), and so comes to want to make this move because the town has a specially salubrious climate. Here, it seems, the movement of thought cannot be fully conscious; we might say that the reason why he wants to move to a specially good climate is that such a desire would justify the desire or intention, which he already has, to move to the town in question; but one would baulk at describing this as being his reason for wanting to move to a good climate. The example which interests me is the following. A tyrant has become severely displeased with one of his ministers, and to humiliate him assigns him to the task of organizing the disposal of the palace garbage, making clear that only a high degree of efficiency will save him from a more savage fate. The minister at first strives for efficiency merely in order to escape disaster; but later, seeing that thereby he can preserve his self-respect and frustrate the tyrant's plan to humiliate him, he begins to take pride in the efficient discharge of his duties, and so to be concerned about it for its own sake. Even so, when the tyrant is overthrown and the minister is relieved of his menial duties, he leaves them without regret in spite of having been intrinsically concerned about their discharge. One might say of the minister that he efficiently discharged his office for its own sake in order to frustrate the tyrant; and this is clearly inadequately represented as his being interested in the efficient discharge of his office both for its own sake and for the end p.127 sake of frustrating the tyrant, since he hoped to achieve the latter goal by an intrinsic concern with his office. It seems clear that higher-order desires are involved; the minister wants, for its own sake, to discharge his office efficiently, and he wants to want this because he wants, by so wanting, to frustrate the tyrant. Indeed, wanting to do A for the sake of B can plausibly be represented as having two interpretations. The first interpretation is invoked if we say that a man who does A for the sake of B (1) does A because he wants to do A and (2) wants to do A for the sake of B. Here wanting A for the sake of B involves thinking that A will lead to B. But we can conceive of wanting A for the sake of B (analogously with doing A for the sake of B) as something which is accounted for by wanting to want A for the sake of B; if so, we have the second interpretation, one which implies not thinking that A will help to realize B, but rather thinking that wanting A will help to realize B. The impact of this discussion, on the question of the kind of end which happiness should be taken to be, will be that, if happiness is to be regarded as an inclusive end, the components may be not the realizations of certain ends, but rather the desires for those realizations. Wanting A for the sake of happiness should be given the second mode of interpretation specified above, one which involves thinking that wanting A is one of a set of items which collectively exhibit the open feature associated with happiness. III My enquiry has, I hope, so far given some grounds for the favourable consideration of three theses: (1) happiness is an end for the sake of which certain I-desirables are desirable, but is to beregarded as an inclusive rather than a dominant end; (2) for happiness to be a rational inclusive end, the set of its components must exemplify some particular open feature, yet to be determined; and (3) the components of happiness may well be not universals or states of affairs the realization of which is desired for its own sake, end p.128 but rather the desires for such universals or states of affairs, in which case a desire for happiness will be a higher-order desire, a desire to have, and satisfy, a set of desires which exemplifies the relevant open feature. At this point, we might be faced with a radical assault, which would run as follows. "Your whole line of enquiry consists in assuming that, when some item is desired, or desirable, for the sake of happiness, it is desired, or desirable, as a means to happiness, and in then raising, as the crucial question, what kind of an end happiness is, or what kind of means-end relation is involved. But the initial assumption is a mistake. To say of an item that it is desired for the sake of happiness should not be understood as implying that that item is desired as any kind of a means to anything. It should be understood rather as claiming that the item is desired (for its own sake) in a certain sort of way: 'for the sake of happiness' should be treated as a unitary adverbial, better heard, perhaps, as 'happinesswise'. To desire something happiness-wise is to take the desire for it seriously in a certain sort of way, in particular to take the desire seriously as a guide for living, to have incorporated it in one's overall plan or system for the conduct of life. If one looks at the matter this way, one can see at once that it is conceivable that these should be I-desirables which are not H-desirables; for the question whether something which is desirable is intrinsically desirable, or whether its desirability derives from the desirability of something else, is plainly a different question from the question whether or not the desire for it is to be taken seriously in the planning and direction of one's life, that is, whether the item is H-desirable. One can, moreover, do justice to two further considerations which you have, so far, been ignoring: first, that what goes to make up happiness is relative to the individual whose happiness it is, a truth which is easily seen when it is recognized that what x desires (or should desire) happiness-wise may be quite different from what y so desires; and, second, that intuition is sympathetic to the admittedly vague idea that the decision that certain items are constitutive of one's happiness is not so much a matter of judgement or belief as a matter of will. One's happiness consists in what one makes it consist in, an idea which will be easily accommodated if 'for the sake of happiness' is understood in the way which I propose." end p.129 There is much in this (spirited yet thoughtful) oration towards which I am sympathetic and which I am prepared to regard as important; in particular, the idea of linking H-desirability with desires or concerns which enter into a system for the direction of one's life, and the suggestion that the acceptance of a system of ends as constituting happiness, or one's own happiness, is less a matter of belief or judgement than of will. But, despite these attractive features, and despite its air of simplifying iconoclasm, the position which is propounded can hardly be regarded as tenable. When looked at more closely, it can be seen to be just another form of subjectivism: what are ostensibly beliefs that particular items are conducive to happiness are represented as being in fact psychological states or attitudes, other than beliefs, with regard to these items; and it is vulnerable to variants of stock objections to subjectivist manœuvres. That in common speech and thought we have application for, and so need a philosophical account of, not only the idea of desiring things for the sake of happiness but, also, that of being happy (or well-off), is passed over; and should it turn out that the position under consideration has no account to offer of the latter idea, that would be not only paradoxical but also, quite likely, theoretically disastrous. For it would seem to be the case that the construction or adoption of a system of ends for the direction of life is something which can be done well or badly, or better or less well; that being so, there will be a demand for the specification of the criteria governing this area of evaluation; and it will be difficult to avoid the idea that the conditions characteristic of a good system of ends will be determined by the fact that the adoption of a system conforming to those conditions will lead, or is likely to lead, or other things being equal will lead, to the realization of happiness; to something, that is, which the approach under consideration might well not be able to accommodate. So it begins to look as if we may be back where we were before the start of this latest discussion. But perhaps not quite; for, perhaps, something can be done with the notion of a set or system of endswhich is suitable for the direction of life. The leading idea would be of a system which is maximally stable, one whose employment for the direction of life would be maximally conducive end p.130 to its continued employment for that purpose, which would be maximally self-perpetuating. To put the matter another way, a system of ends would be stable to the extent to which, though not constitutionally immune from modification, it could accommodate changes of circumstances or vicissitudes which would impose modification upon other less stable systems. We might need to supplement the idea of stability by the idea of flexibility; a system will be flexible in so far as, should modifications be demanded, they are achievable by easy adjustment and evolution; flounderings, crises, and revolutions will be excluded or at a minimum. A succession of systems of ends within a person's consciousness could then be regarded as stages in the development of a single life-scheme, rather than as the replacement of one life-scheme by another. We might find it desirable also to incorporate into the working-out of these ideas a distinction, already foreshadowed, between happiness-in-general and happiness-for-an-individual. We might hope that it would be possible to present happiness-in-general as a system of possible ends which would be specified in highly general terms (since the specification must be arrived at in abstraction from the idiosyncrasies of particular persons and their circumstances), a system which would be determined either by its stability relative to stock vicissitudes in the human condition, or (as I suspect) in some other way; and we might further hope that happiness for an individual might lie in the possession, and operation for the guidance of life, of a system of ends which (a) would be a specific and personalized derivative, determined by that individual's character, abilities, and situations in the world, of the system constitutive of happiness in general; and (b) the adoption of which would be stable for that individual in his circumstances. The idea that happiness might be fully, or at least partially, characterized in something like this kind of way would receive some support if we could show reason to suppose that features which could plausibly be regarded, or which indeed actually have been regarded, as characteristic of happiness, or at least of a satisfactory system for the guidance of life, are also features which are conducive to stability. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Means-end rationality.”