categoria -- categorical
theory:
kategoria
"accusation, prediction, category," verbal noun from kategorein
"to speak against; to accuse, assert, predicate," from kata
"down to" (or perhaps "against;" see cata-) + agoreuein
"to harangue, to declaim (in the assembly)," from agora "public
assembly" (from PIE root *ger- "to gather"). H. P. Grice
lectured at Oxford on Aristotle’s Categories in joint seminars with J. L.
Austin and P. F. Strawson, a theory all
of whose models are isomorphic. Because of its weak expressive power, in
first-order logic with identity only theories with a finite model can be
categorical; without identity no theories are categorical. A more interesting
property, therefore, is being categorical in power: a theory is categorical in
power a when the theory has, up to isomorphism, only one model with a domain of
cardinality a. Categoricity in power shows the capacity to characterize a
structure completely, only limited by cardinality. For example, the first-order
theory of dense order without endpoints is categorical in power w the
cardinality of the natural numbers. The first-order theory of simple discrete
orderings with initial element, the ordering of the natural numbers, is not categorical
in power w. There are countable discrete orders, not isomorphic to the natural
numbers, that are elementary equivalent to it, i.e., have the same elementary,
first-order theory. In first-order logic categorical theories are complete.
This is not necessarily true for extensions of first-order logic for which no
completeness theorem holds. In such a logic a set of axioms may be categorical
without providing an informative characterization of the theory of its unique
model. The term ‘elementary equivalence’ was introduced around 6 by Tarski for
the property of being indistinguishable by elementary means. According to
Oswald Veblen, who first used the term ‘categorical’ in 4, in a discussion of
the foundations of geometry, that term was suggested to him by the pragmatist John Dewey. categoricity:
Grice distinguishes a meta-category, as categoricity, from category itself. He
gave seminars on Aristotle’s categories at Oxford in joint seminars with J. L.
Austin and P. F. Strawson. the semantic property belonging to a set of
sentences, a “postulate set,” that implicitly defines completely describes, or
characterizes up to isomorphism the structure of its intended interpretation or
standard model. The best-known categorical set of sentences is the postulate
set for number theory attributed to Peano, which completely characterizes the
structure of an arithmetic progression. This structure is exemplified by the
system of natural numbers with zero as distinguished element and successor
addition of one as distinguished function. Other exemplifications of this
structure are obtained by taking as distinguished element an arbitrary integer,
taking as distinguished function the process of adding an arbitrary positive or
negative integer and taking as universe of discourse or domain the result of
repeated application of the distinguished function to the distinguished
element. See, e.g., Russell’s Introduction to the Mathematical Philosophy, 8.
More precisely, a postulate set is defined to be categorical if every two of
its models satisfying interpretations or realizations are isomorphic to each
other, where, of course, two interpretations are isomorphic if between their
respective universes of discourse there exists a one-to-one correspondence by
which the distinguished elements, functions, relations, etc., of the one are
mapped exactly onto those of the other. The importance of the analytic geometry
of Descartes involves the fact that the system of points of a geometrical line
with the “left-of relation” distinguished is isomorphic to the system of real
numbers with the “less-than” relation distinguished. Categoricity, the ideal
limit of success for the axiomatic method considered as a method for
characterizing subject matter rather than for reorganizing a science, is known
to be impossible with respect to certain subject matters using certain formal
languages. The concept of categoricity can be traced back at least as far as
Dedekind; the word is due to Dewey. category:
H. P. Grice and J. L. Austin, “Categories.” H. P. Grice and P. F. Strawson,
“Categories.” an ultimate class. Categories are the highest genera of entities
in the world. They may contain species but are not themselves species of any
higher genera. Aristotle, the first philosopher to discuss categories systematically,
listed ten, including substance, quality, quantity, relation, place, and time.
If a set of categories is complete, then each entity in the world will belong
to a category and no entity will belong to more than one category. A prominent
example of a set of categories is Descartes’s dualistic classification of mind
and matter. This example brings out clearly another feature of categories: an
attribute that can belong to entities in one category cannot be an attribute of
entities in any other category. Thus, entities in the category of matter have
extension and color while no entity in the category of mind can have extension
or color. category
mistake. Grice’s example: You’re the cream in my coffee. Usually a metaphor
is a conversational implicaturum due to a category mistake – But since
obviously the mistake is intentional it is not really a mistake! Grice prefers
to speak of ‘categorial falsity.’ What Ryle has in mind is different and he
does mean ‘mistake.’ the placing of an entity in the wrong category. In one of
Ryle’s examples, to place the activity of exhibiting team spirit in the same
class with the activities of pitching, batting, and catching is to make a
category mistake; exhibiting team spirit is not a special function like
pitching or batting but instead a way those special functions are performed. A
second use of ‘category mistake’ is to refer to the attribution to an entity of
a property which that entity cannot have not merely does not happen to have, as
in ‘This memory is violet’ or, to use an example from Carnap, ‘Caesar is a
prime number’. These two kinds of category mistake may seem different, but both
involve misunderstandings of the natures of the things being talked about. It
is thought that they go beyond simple error or ordinary mistakes, as when one
attributes a property to a thing which that thing could have but does not have,
since category mistakes involve attributions of properties e.g., being a
special function to things e.g., team spirit that those things cannot have. According
to Ryle, the test for category differences depends on whether replacement of
one expression for another in the same sentence results in a type of
unintelligibility that he calls “absurdity.”
category theory, H. P. Grice
lectured on Aristotle’s categories in joint seminars at Oxford with J. L.
Austin and P. F. Strawson, a mathematical theory that studies the universal
properties of structures via their relationships with one another. A category C
consists of two collections Obc and Morc , the objects and the morphisms of C,
satisfying the following conditions: i for each pair a, b of objects there is
associated a collection Morc a, b of morphisms such that each member of Morc
belongs to one of these collections; ii for each object a of Obc , there is a
morphism ida , called the identity on a; iii a composition law associating with
each morphism f: a P b and each morphism g: b P c a morphism gf:a P c, called
the composite of f and g; iv for morphisms f: a P b, g: b P c, and h: c P d,
the equation hgf % hgf holds; v for any morphism f: a P b, we have idbf % f and
fida % f. Sets with specific structures together with a collection of mappings
preserving these structures are categories. Examples: 1 sets with functions
between them; 2 groups with group homomorphisms; 3 topological spaces with
continuous functions; 4 sets with surjections instead of arbitrary maps
constitute a different category. But a category need not be composed of sets
and set-theoretical maps. Examples: 5 a collection of propositions linked by
the relation of logical entailment is a category and so is any preordered set;
6 a monoid taken as the unique object and its elements as the morphisms is a
category. The properties of an object of a category are determined by the
morphisms that are coming out of and going in this object. Objects with a
universal property occupy a key position. Thus, a terminal object a is
characterized by the following universal property: for any object b there is a
unique morphism from b to a. A singleton set is a terminal object in the
category of sets. The Cartesian product of sets, the product of groups, and the
conjunction of propositions are all terminal objects in appropriate categories.
Thus category theory unifies concepts and sheds a new light on the notion of
universality.
cattaneo: essential Italian philosopher. Refs.: Luigi
Speranza, "Grice e Cattaneo," per Il Club Anglo-Italiano, The
Swimming-Pool Library, Villa Grice, Liguria, Italia.
causatum: aetiologicum: from aitia: while Grice would prefer
‘cause,’ he thought that the etymology of Grecian ‘aitia,’ in a legal context,
was interesting. On top, he was dissatisfied that Foucault never realised that
‘les mots et les choses,’ etymologically, means, ‘motus et causae.’ Grecian,
cause. Originally referring to responsibility for a crime, this Grecian term
came to be used by philosophers to signify causality in a somewhat broader
sense than the English ‘cause’ the
traditional rendering of aitia can
convey. An aitia is any answer to a why-question. According to Aristotle, how
such questions ought to be answered is a philosophical issue addressed
differently by different philosophers. He himself distinguishes four types of
answers, and thus four aitiai, by distinguishing different types of questions:
1 Why is the statue heavy? Because it is made of bronze material aitia. 2 Why
did Persians invade Athens? Because the Athenians had raided their territory
moving or efficient aitia. 3 Why are the angles of a triangle equal to two
right angles? Because of the triangle’s nature formal aitia. 4 Why did someone
walk after dinner? Because or for the sake of his health final aitia. Only the
second of these would typically be called a cause in English. Though some
render aitia as ‘explanatory principle’ or ‘reason’, these expressions inaptly
suggest a merely mental existence; instead, an aitia is a thing or aspect of a
thing. The study of the causatum in Grice is key. It appears in “Meaning,”
because he starts discussing Stevenson whom Grice dubs a ‘causalist.’ It continues
with Grice on ‘knowledge,’ and ‘willing’ in “Intention and Uncertainty.” Also
in “Aspects of reasoning.” Is the causatum involved in the communicatum. Grice
relies on this only in Meaning Revisited, where he presents a transcendental
argument for the justification. This is what is referred in the literature as
“H. P. Grice’s Triangle.” Borrowing from Aristotle in De Interpretatione, Grice
speaks of three corners of the triangle and correspondences obtaining between
them. There’s a psychophysical correspondence between the soul of the emissor,
the soul of the emissee, and the shared experience of the denotata of the
communication device the emissor employs. Then there’s the psychosemiotic
correspondence between the communication device and the state of the soul in
the emissor that is transferred, in a soul-to-soul transfer to the emissee. And
finally, there is a semiophyiscal correspondence between the communication
device and the world. When it comes to the causation, the belief that there is
fire is caused by there being fire. The emissor wants to transfer his belief,
and utters. “Smoke!”. The soul-to-soul transfer is effected. The fire that
caused the smoke that caused the belief in the the emissor now causes a belief
in the emissee. If that’s not a causal account of communication, I don’t know
what it is. Grice is no expressionist in that a solipsistic telementational
model is of no use if there is no ‘hookup’ as he puts it with the world that
causes this ‘shared experience’ that is improved by the existence of a
communication device. Grice’s idea of
‘cause’ is his ‘bite’ on reality. He chooses ‘Phenomenalism’ as an enemy.
Causal realism is at the heart of Grice’s programme. As an Oxonian, he was well
aware that to trust a cause is to be anti-Cambridge, where they follow Hume’s
and Kant’s scepticism. Grice uses ‘cause’ rather casually. His most serious
joke is “Charles I’s decapitation willed his death” – but it is not easy to
trace a philosopher who explicitly claim that ‘to cause’ is ‘to will.’ For in God the means and the end preexist in
the cause as willed together.
Causation figures large in Grice, notably re: the perceptum. The agent
perceives that the pillar box is red. The cause is that the pillar box is red.
Out of that, Grice constructs a whole theory of conversation. Why would someone
just report what a THING SEEMS to him when he has no doubt that it was THE
THING that caused the thing to SEEM red to him? Applying some sort of
helpfulness, it works: the addressee is obviously more interested in what the
thing IS, not what it seems. A sense-datum is not something you can eat. An
apple is. So, the assumption is that a report of what a thing IS is more
relevant than a report about what a thing SEEMS. So, Grice needs to find a rationale that
justifies, ceteris paribus, the utterance of “The thing seems phi.” Following
helpfulness, U utters “The thing seems phi” when the U is not in a position to
say what the thing IS phi. The denial, “The thing is not phi” is in the air,
and also the doubt, “The thing may not be phi.” Most without a philosophical
background who do not take Grice’s joke of echoing Kant’s categories (Kant had
12, not 4!) play with quantitas, qualitas, relatio and modus. Grice in “Causal”
uses ‘weak’ and ‘strong’ but grants he won’t ‘determine’ in what way ‘the thing
seems phi’ is ‘weaker’ than ‘the thing is phi.’ It might well be argued that
it’s STRONGER: the thing SEEEMS TO BE phi.’ In the previous “Introduction to
Logical Theory,” Strawson just refers to Grice’s idea of a ‘pragmatic rule’ to
the effect that one utter the LOGICALLY stronger proposition. Let’s revise
dates. Whereas Grice says that his confidence in the success of “Causal,” he
ventured with Strawson’s “Intro,” Strawson is citing Grice already. Admittedly,
Strawson adds, “in a different context.” But Grice seems pretty sure that “The
thing seems phi” is WEAKER than “The thing is phi.” In 1961 he is VERY CLEAR
that while what he may have said to Strawson that Strawson reported in that
footnote was in terms of LOGICAL STRENGTH (in terms of entailment, for
extensional contexts). In “Causal,” Grice is clear that he does not think
LOGICAL STRENGTH applies to intensional contexts. In later revisions, it is not
altogether clear how he deals with the ‘doubt or denial.’ He seems to have been
more interested in refuting G. A. Paul (qua follower of Witters) than anything
else. In his latest reformulation of the principle, now a conversational
category, he is not specific about phenomenalist reports. A causal law is a
statement describing a regular and invariant connection between types of events
or states, where the connections involved are causal in some sense. When one
speaks of causal laws as distinguished from laws that are not 123 category
mistake causal law 123 causal, the
intended distinction may vary. Sometimes, a law is said to be causal if it
relates events or states occurring at successive times, also called a law of
succession: e.g., ‘Ingestion of strychnine leads to death.’ A causal law in
this sense contrasts with a law of coexistence, which connects events or states
occurring at the same time e.g., the Wiedemann-Franz law relating thermal and
electric conductivity in metals. One important kind of causal law is the
deterministic law. Causal laws of this kind state exceptionless connections
between events, while probabilistic or statistical laws specify probability
relationships between events. For any system governed by a set of deterministic
laws, given the state of a system at a time, as characterized by a set of state
variables, these laws will yield a unique state of the system for any later
time or, perhaps, at any time, earlier or later. Probabilistic laws will yield,
for a given antecedent state of a system, only a probability value for the
occurrence of a certain state at a later time. The laws of classical mechanics
are often thought to be paradigmatic examples of causal laws in this sense,
whereas the laws of quantum mechanics are claimed to be essentially
probabilistic. Causal laws are sometimes taken to be laws that explicitly
specify certain events as causes of certain other events. Simple laws of this
kind will have the form ‘Events of kind F cause events of kind G’; e.g.,
‘Heating causes metals to expand’. A weaker related concept is this: a causal
law is one that states a regularity between events which in fact are related as
cause to effect, although the statement of the law itself does not say so laws
of motion expressed by differential equations are perhaps causal laws in this
sense. These senses of ‘causal law’ presuppose a prior concept of causation.
Finally, causal laws may be contrasted with teleological laws, laws that
supposedly describe how certain systems, in particular biological organisms,
behave so as to achieve certain “goals” or “end states.” Such laws are
sometimes claimed to embody the idea that a future state that does not as yet
exist can exert an influence on the present behavior of a system. Just what
form such laws take and exactly how they differ from ordinary laws have not
been made wholly clear, however. Grice
was not too happy with the causal theory of proper names, the view that proper
names designate what they name by virtue of a kind of causal connection to it.
Perhaps his antipathy was due to the fact that he was Herbert Grice, and so was
his father. This led Grice to start using once at Clifton and Oxford, “H. P.”
and eventually, dropping the “Herbert” altogether and become “Paul Grice.” This
view is a special case, and in some instances an unwarranted interpretation, of
a direct reference view of names. On this approach, proper names, e.g.,
‘Machiavelli’, are, as J. S. Mill wrote, “purely denotative. . . . they denote
the individuals who are called by them; but they do not indicate or imply any
attributes as belonging to those individuals” A System of Logic, 1879. Proper
names may suggest certain properties to many competent speakers, but any such
associated information is no part of the definition of the name. Names, on this
view, have no definitions. What connects a name to what it names is not the
latter’s satisfying some condition specified in the name’s definition. Names,
instead, are simply attached to things, applied as labels, as it were. A proper
name, once attached, becomes a socially available device for making the
relevant name bearer a subject of discourse. On the other leading view, the
descriptivist view, a proper name is associated with something like a
definition. ‘Aristotle’, on this view, applies by definition to whoever
satisfies the relevant properties e.g.,
is ‘the teacher of Alexander the Great, who wrote the Nicomachean Ethics’.
Russell, e.g., maintained that ordinary proper names which he contrasted with
logically proper or genuine names have definitions, that they are abbreviated
definite descriptions. Frege held that names have sense, a view whose proper
interpretation remains in dispute, but is often supposed to be closely related
to Russell’s approach. Others, most notably Searle, have defended descendants
of the descriptivist view. An important variant, sometimes attributed to Frege,
denies that names have articulable definitions, but nevertheless associates
them with senses. And the bearer will still be, by definition as it were, the
unique thing to satisfy the relevant mode of presentation. causal overdetermination
causal theory of proper names 124 124
The direct reference approach is sometimes misleadingly called the causal
theory of names. But the key idea need have nothing to do with causation: a
proper name functions as a tag or label for its bearer, not as a surrogate for
a descriptive expression. Whence the allegedly misleading term ‘causal theory
of names’? Contemporary defenders of Mill’s conception like Keith Donnellan and
Kripke felt the need to expand upon Mill’s brief remarks. What connects a present
use of a name with a referent? Here Donnellan and Kripke introduce the notion
of a “historical chains of communication.” As Kripke tells the story, a baby is
baptized with a proper name. The name is used, first by those present at the
baptism, subsequently by those who pick up the name in conversation, reading,
and so on. The name is thus propagated, spread by usage “from link to link as
if by a chain” Naming and Necessity, 0. There emerges a historical chain of
uses of the name that, according to Donnellan and Kripke, bridges the gap
between a present use of the name and the individual so named. This “historical
chain of communication” is occasionally referred to as a “casual chain of
communication.” The idea is that one’s use of the name can be thought of as a
causal factor in one’s listener’s ability to use the name to refer to the same
individual. However, although Kripke in Naming and Necessity does occasionally
refer to the chain of communication as causal, he more often simply speaks of
the chain of communication, or of the fact that the name has been passed “by
tradition from link to link” p. 106. The causal aspect is not one that Kripke
underscores. In more recent writings on the topic, as well as in lectures,
Kripke never mentions causation in this connection, and Donnellan questions
whether the chain of communication should be thought of as a causal chain. This
is not to suggest that there is no view properly called a “causal theory of
names.” There is such a view, but it is not the view of Kripke and Donnellan.
The causal theory of names is a view propounded by physicalistically minded
philosophers who desire to “reduce” the notion of “reference” to something more
physicalistically acceptable, such as the notion of a causal chain running from
“baptism” to later use. This is a view whose motivation is explicitly rejected
by Kripke, and should be sharply distinguished from the more popular anti-Fregean
approach sketched above. Causation is the relation between cause and effect, or
the act of bringing about an effect, which may be an event, a state, or an
object say, a statue. The concept of causation has long been recognized as one
of fundamental philosophical importance. Hume called it “the cement of the
universe”: causation is the relation that connects events and objects of this
world in significant relationships. The concept of causation seems pervasively
present in human discourse. It is expressed by not only ‘cause’ and its
cognates but by many other terms, such as ‘produce’, ‘bring about’, ‘issue’,
‘generate’, ‘result’, ‘effect’, ‘determine’, and countless others. Moreover,
many common transitive verbs “causatives”, such as ‘kill’, ‘break’, and ‘move’,
tacitly contain causal relations e.g., killing involves causing to die. The
concept of action, or doing, involves the idea that the agent intentionally
causes a change in some object or other; similarly, the concept of perception
involves the idea that the object perceived causes in the perceiver an
appropriate perceptual experience. The physical concept of force, too, appears
to involve causation as an essential ingredient: force is the causal agent of
changes in motion. Further, causation is intimately related to explanation: to
ask for an explanation of an event is, often, to ask for its cause. It is
sometimes thought that our ability to make predictions, and inductive inference
in general, depends on our knowledge of causal connections or the assumption
that such connections are present: the knowledge that water quenches thirst
warrants the predictive inference from ‘X is swallowing water’ to ‘X’s thirst
will be quenched’. More generally, the identification and systematic
description of causal relations that hold in the natural world have been
claimed to be the preeminent aim of science. Finally, causal concepts play a
crucial role in moral and legal reasoning, e.g., in the assessment of
responsibilities and liabilities. Event causation is the causation of one event
by another. A sequence of causally connected events is called a causal chain.
Agent causation refers to the act of an agent person, object in bringing about
a change; thus, my opening the window i.e., my causing the window to open is an
instance of agent causation. There is a controversy as to whether agent
causation is reducible to event causation. My opening the window seems
reducible to event causation since in reality a certain motion of my arms, an
event, causes the window to open. Some philosophers, however, have claimed that
not all cases of agent causation are so reducible. Substantival causation is
the creation of a genuinely new substance, or object, rather than causing
changes in preexisting substances, or merely rearranging them. The possibility
of substantival causation, at least in the natural world, has been disputed by
some philosophers. Event causation, however, has been the primary focus of
philosophical discussion in the modern and contemporary period. The analysis of
event causation has been controversial. The following four approaches have been
prominent: the regularity analysis, the counterfactual analysis, the
manipulation analysis, and the probabilistic analysis. The heart of the
regularity or nomological analysis, associated with Hume and J. S. Mill, is the
idea that causally connected events must instantiate a general regularity
between like kinds of events. More precisely: if c is a cause of e, there must
be types or kinds of events, F and G, such that c is of kind F, e is of kind G,
and events of kind F are regularly followed by events of kind G. Some take the
regularity involved to be merely de facto “constant conjunction” of the two
event types involved; a more popular view is that the regularity must hold as a
matter of “nomological necessity” i.e.,
it must be a “law.” An even stronger view is that the regularity must represent
a causal law. A law that does this job of subsuming causally connected events
is called a “covering” or “subsumptive” law, and versions of the regularity
analysis that call for such laws are often referred to as the “covering-law” or
“nomic-subsumptive” model of causality. The regularity analysis appears to give
a satisfactory account of some aspects of our causal concepts: for example,
causal claims are often tested by re-creating the event or situation claimed to
be a cause and then observing whether a similar effect occurs. In other
respects, however, the regularity account does not seem to fare so well: e.g.,
it has difficulty explaining the apparent fact that we can have knowledge of
causal relations without knowledge of general laws. It seems possible to know,
for instance, that someone’s contraction of the flu was caused by her exposure
to a patient with the disease, although we know of no regularity between such
exposures and contraction of the disease it may well be that only a very small
fraction of persons who have been exposed to flu patients contract the disease.
Do I need to know general regularities about itchings and scratchings to know
that the itchy sensation on my left elbow caused me to scratch it? Further, not
all regularities seem to represent causal connections e.g., Reid’s example of
the succession of day and night; two successive symptoms of a disease.
Distinguishing causal from non-causal regularities is one of the main problems
confronting the regularity theorist. According to the counterfactual analysis,
what makes an event a cause of another is the fact that if the cause event had
not occurred the effect event would not have. This accords with the idea that
cause is a condition that is sine qua non for the occurrence of the effect. The
view that a cause is a necessary condition for the effect is based on a similar
idea. The precise form of the counterfactual account depends on how
counterfactuals are understood e.g., if counterfactuals are explained in terms
of laws, the counterfactual analysis may turn into a form of the regularity
analysis. The counterfactual approach, too, seems to encounter various
difficulties. It is true that on the basis of the fact that if Larry had
watered my plants, as he had promised, my plants would not have died, I could
claim that Larry’s not watering my plants caused them to die. But it is also
true that if George Bush had watered my plants, they would not have died; but
does that license the claim that Bush’s not watering my plants caused them to
die? Also, there appear to be many cases of dependencies expressed by
counterfactuals that, however, are not cases of causal dependence: e.g., if
Socrates had not died, Xanthippe would not have become a widow; if I had not
raised my hand, I would not have signaled. The question, then, is whether these
non-causal counterfactuals can be distinguished from causal counterfactuals
without the use of causal concepts. There are also questions about how we could
verify counterfactuals in particular,
whether our knowledge of causal counterfactuals is ultimately dependent on
knowledge of causal laws and regularities. Some have attempted to explain
causation in terms of action, and this is the manipulation analysis: the cause
is an event or state that we can produce at will, or otherwise manipulate, to
produce a certain other event as an effect. Thus, an event is a cause of
another provided that by bringing about the first event we can bring about the
second. This account exploits the close connection noted earlier between the
concepts of action and cause, and highlights the important role that knowledge
of causal connections plays in our control of natural events. However, as an
analysis of the concept of cause, it may well have things backward: the concept
of action seems to be a richer and more complex concept that presupposes the
concept of cause, and an analysis of cause in terms of action could be accused
of circularity. The reason we think that someone’s exposure to a flu patient
was the cause of her catching the disease, notwithstanding the absence of an
appropriate regularity even one of high probability, may be this: exposure to
flu patients increases the probability of contracting the disease. Thus, an
event, X, may be said to be a probabilistic cause of an event, Y, provided that
the probability of the occurrence of Y, given that X has occurred, is greater
than the antecedent probability of Y. To meet certain obvious difficulties,
this rough definition must be further elaborated e.g., to eliminate the possibility
that X and Y are collateral effects of a common cause. There is also the
question whether probabilistic causation is to be taken as an analysis of the
general concept of causation, or as a special kind of causal relation, or
perhaps only as evidence indicating the presence of a causal relationship.
Probabilistic causation has of late been receiving increasing attention from
philosophers. When an effect is brought about by two independent causes either
of which alone would have sufficed, one speaks of causal overdetermination.
Thus, a house fire might have been caused by both a short circuit and a
simultaneous lightning strike; either event alone would have caused the fire,
and the fire, therefore, was causally overdetermined. Whether there are actual
instances of overdetermination has been questioned; one could argue that the
fire that would have been caused by the short circuit alone would not have been
the same fire, and similarly for the fire that would have been caused by the
lightning alone. The steady buildup of pressure in a boiler would have caused
it to explode but for the fact that a bomb was detonated seconds before,
leading to a similar effect. In such a case, one speaks of preemptive, or
superseding, cause. We are apt to speak of causes in regard to changes;
however, “unchanges,” e.g., this table’s standing here through some period of
time, can also have causes: the table continues to stand here because it is
supported by a rigid floor. The presence of the floor, therefore, can be called
a sustaining cause of the table’s continuing to stand. A cause is usually
thought to precede its effect in time; however, some have argued that we must
allow for the possibility of a cause that is temporally posterior to its effect backward causation sometimes called
retrocausation. And there is no universal agreement as to whether a cause can
be simultaneous with its effect
concurrent causation. Nor is there a general agreement as to whether
cause and effect must, as a matter of conceptual necessity, be “contiguous” in
time and space, either directly or through a causal chain of contiguous
events contiguous causation. The attempt
to “analyze” causation seems to have reached an impasse; the proposals on hand
seem so widely divergent that one wonders whether they are all analyses of one
and the same concept. But each of them seems to address some important aspect
of the variegated notion that we express by the term ‘cause’, and it may be
doubted whether there is a unitary concept of causation that can be captured in
an enlightening philosophical analysis. On the other hand, the centrality of
the concept, both to ordinary practical discourse and to the scientific
description of the world, is difficult to deny. This has encouraged some
philosophers to view causation as a primitive, one that cannot be further
analyzed. There are others who advocate the extreme view causal nihilism that
causal concepts play no role whatever in the advanced sciences, such as
fundamental physical theories of space-time and matter, and that the very
notion of cause is an anthropocentric projection deriving from our confused
ideas of action and power. Causatum -- Dretske, Fred b.2, philosopher best known for his externalistic
representational naturalism about experience, belief, perception, and
knowledge. Educated at Purdue and
the of Minnesota, he has taught at
the of Wisconsin 088 and Stanford 898. In Seeing and Knowing 9 Dretske develops
an account of non-epistemic seeing, denying that seeing is believing that for a subject S to see a dog, say, S
must apply a concept to it dog, animal, furry. The dog must look some way to S
S must visually differentiate the dog, but need not conceptually categorize it.
This contrasts with epistemic seeing, where for S to see that a dog is before
him, S would have to believe that it is a dog. In Knowledge and the Flow of
Information 1, a mind-independent objective sense of ‘information’ is applied
to propositional knowledge and belief content. “Information” replaced Dretske’s
earlier notion of a “conclusive reason” 1. Knowing that p requires having a
true belief caused or causally sustained by an event that carries the
information that p. Also, the semantic content of a belief is identified with
the most specific digitally encoded piece of information to which it becomes
selectively sensitive during a period of learning. In Explaining Behavior 8,
Dretske’s account of representation and misrepresentation takes on a
teleological flavor. The semantic meaning of a structure is now identified with
its indicator function. A structure recruited for a causal role of indicating
F’s, and sustained in that causal role by this ability, comes to mean F thereby providing a causal role for the
content of cognitive states, and avoiding epiphenomenalism about semantic
content. In Naturalizing the Mind 5, Dretske’s theory of meaning is applied to
the problems of consciousness and qualia. He argues that the empirically
significant features of conscious experience are exhausted by their functional
and hence representational roles of indicating external sensible properties. He
rejects the views that consciousness is composed of a higher-order hierarchy of
mental states and that qualia are due to intrinsic, non-representational
features of the underlying physical systems. Dretske is also known for his
contributions on the nature of contrastive statements, laws of nature,
causation, and epistemic non-closure, among other topics. CAUSATUM -- Ducasse, C. J., philosopher of
mind and aesthetician. He arrived in the United States in 0, received his Ph.D.
from Harvard 2, and taught at the of
Washington 226 and Brown 658. His most
important work is Nature, Mind and Death 1. The key to his general theory is a
non-Humean view of causation: the relation of causing is triadic, involving i
an initial event, ii the set of conditions under which it occurs, and iii a
resulting event; the initial event is the cause, the resulting event is the
effect. On the basis of this view he constructed a theory of categories an explication of such concepts as those of
substance, property, mind, matter, and body. Among the theses he defended were
that minds are substances, that they causally interact with bodies, and that
human beings are free despite every event’s having a cause. In A Critical Examination
of the Belief in a Life after Death 1, he concluded that “the balance of the
evidence so far obtained is on the side of . . . survival.” Like Schopenhauer,
whom he admired, Ducasse was receptive to the religious and philosophical
writings of the Far East. He wrote with remarkable objectivity on the
philosophical problems associated with so-called paranormal phenomena.
Ducasse’s epistemological views are developed in Truth, Knowledge and Causation
8. He sets forth a realistic theory of perception he says, about
sense-qualities, “Berkeley is right and the realists are wrong” and, of
material things, “the realists are right and Berkeley is wrong”. He provides
the classical formulation of the “adverbial theory” or sense-qualities,
according to which such qualities are not objects of experience or awareness
but ways of experiencing or of being aware. One does not perceive a red
material object by sensing a red sense-datum; for then perceiving would involve
three entities i the perceiving subject,
ii the red sense-datum, and iii the red material object. But one may perceive a
red material object by sensing redly; then the only entities involved are i the
perceiving subject and ii the material object. Ducasse observes that,
analogously, although it may be natural to say “dancing a waltz,” it would be
more accurate to speak of “dancing waltzily.”
causatum – causarum causare
causaturus causatum causans – Grice: “The Romans never needed a verb, to cause
– the monks did!” But the Romans had ‘causari, and causatum, surely. -- causa sui: an expression used by Grice’s
mother, a High Church, as applied to God to mean in part that God owes his
existence to nothing other than himself. It does not mean that God somehow
brought himself into existence. The idea is that the very nature of God
logically requires that he exists. What accounts for the existence of a being
that is causa sui is its own nature.
celsus: philosopher known only as the author of a work called
“Alethes logos,” which is quoted extensively by Origen of Alexandria in his
response, Against Celsus. “Alethes logos” is mainly important because it is the
first anti-Christian polemic of which we have significant knowledge. Origen
considers Celsus to be an Epicurean, but he is uncertain about this. There are
no traces of Epicureanism in Origen’s quotations from Celsus, which indicate
instead that he is a platonist, whose conception of an unnameable first deity
transcending being and knowable only by “synthesis, analysis, or analogy” is
based on Plato’s description of the Good in Rep. VI. In accordance with the
Timaeus, Celsus believes that God created “immortal things” and turned the
creation of “mortal things” over to them. According to him, the universe has a
providential organization in which humans hold no special place, and its
history is one of eternally repeating sequences of events separated by
catastrophes.
centro per la filosofia italiana – the title is telling. A centro is like a a ‘centre,’ but Oxford
would not have a ‘centre.’ – It’s more of a ‘new-world’ thing – Center for
Advanced Studies, say. A centro is like a ‘circle,’ as in the Vienna Circcle.
This ‘centro’ is not for philosophical research, but for Italian philosophy
simpliciter.
certum: While Grice plays with ‘certum,’ he is happier with
UNcertum. To be certain is to have dis-cerned. Oddly, Grice ‘evolved’ from an
interest in the certainty and incorrigibility that ‘ordinary’ and the
first-person gives to situations of ‘conversational improbability’ and
indeterminate implicatura under conditions of ceteris paribus risk and
uncertainty in survival. “To be certain that p” is for Grice one of those
‘diaphanous’ verbs. While it is best to improve Descartes’s fuzzy lexicon – and
apply ‘certus’ to the emissor, if Grice is asked, “What are you certain of?,”
“I have to answer, ‘p’”. certum:
certitude, from ecclesiastical medieval Roman “certitudo,” designating in
particular Christian conviction, is heir to two meanings of “certum,” one
objective and the other subjective: beyond doubt, fixed, positive, real,
regarding a thing or knowledge, or firm in his resolutions, decided, sure,
authentic, regarding an individual. Although certitudo has no Grecian
equivalent, the Roman verb “cernere,” (cf. discern), from which “certum” is
derived, has the concrete meaning of pass through a sieve, discern, like the
Grecian “ϰρίνειν,” select, sieve, judge, which comes from the same root. Thus
begins the relationship between certitude, judgment, and truth, which since
Descartes has been connected with the problematics of the subject and of
self-certainty. The whole terminological system of truth is thus involved, from
unveiling and adequation to certitude and obviousness. Then there’s Certainty,
Objectivity, Subjectivity, and Linguistic Systems The objective aspect manifests itself first,
“certitudo” translating e. g. the
determined nature of objects or known properties as the commentaries on
Aristotle’s Met. translated into Roman, or the incontestably true nature of
principles. With the revolution of the subject inaugurated by Cartesian Phil. ,
the second aspect comes to the fore: some reasons, ideas, or propositions are
true and certain, or true and evident, but the most certain and the most
evident of all, and thus in a sense the truest, is the certitude of my own existence,
a certainty that the subject attributes to itself: The thematics of certainty
precedes that of consciousness both historically and logically, but it ends up
being incorporated and subordinated by it. Certainty thus becomes a quality or
disposition of the subject that reproduces, in the field of rational knowledge,
the security or assurance that the believer finds in religious faith, and that
shields him from the wavering of the soul. It will be noted that Fr. retains the possibility of reversing the
perspective by exploiting the Roman etymology, as Descartes does in the
Principles of Phil. when he transforms
the certitudo probabilis of the Scholastics Aquinas into moral certainty. On
the other hand, Eng. tends to objectify “certainty” to the maximum in
opposition to belief v. BELIEF, whereas G.
hears in “Gewissheit” the root “wissen,” to know, to have learned and
situates it in a series with Bewusstsein and Gewissen, clearly marking the
constitutive relationship to the subject in opposition to Glaube on the one
hand, and to Wahrheit and Wahrscheinlichkeit lit., appearance of truth, i.e.,
probability on the other. Then there’s Knots of Problems On the relations between certainty and
belief, the modalities of subjective experience. On the relation between
individual certainty and the wise man’s constancy. On the relations between
certainty and truth, the confrontation between subjectivity and objectivity in
the development of knowledge. On the relations between certainty and
probability, the modalities of objective knowledge insofar as it is related to
a subject’s experience. uncertainty.
This is Grice’s principle of uncertainty. One of Grice’s problem is with ‘know’
and ‘certainty.’ He grants that we only know that 2 + 2 = 4. He often
identifies ‘knowledge’ with ‘certainty.’ He does not explore a cancellation
like, “I am certain but I do not know.” The reason being that he defends common
sense against the sceptic, and so his attitude towards certainty has to be very
careful. The second problem is that he wants ‘certainty’ to deal within the
desiderative realm. To do that, he divides an act of intending into two: an act
of accepting and act of willing. The ‘certainty’ is found otiose if the
intender is seen as ‘willing that p’ and accepting that the willing will be the
cause for the desideratum to obtain. n
WoW:141, Grice proposes that ‘A is certain that p’ ENTAILS either ‘A is certain
that he is certain that p, OR AT LEAST that it is not the case that A is UNCERTAIN
that A is certain that p.” ‘Certainly,’ appears to apply to utterances in the
credibility and the desirability realm. Grice sometimes uses ‘to be sure.’ He
notoriously wants to distinguish it from ‘know.’ Grice explores the topic of
incorrigibility and ends up with corrigibility which almost makes a Popperian
out of him. In the end, its all about the converational implciata and
conversation as rational co-operation. Why does P2 should judge that P1 is
being more or less certain about what he is talking? Theres a rationale for
that. Our conversation does not consist of idle remarks. Grices example:
"The Chairman of the British Academy has a corkscrew in his pocket.
Urmsons example: "The king is visiting Oxford tomorrow. Why? Oh, for no
reason at all. As a philosophical psychologist, and an empiricist with realist
tendencies, Grice was obsessed with what he called (in a nod to the Kiparskys)
the factivity of know. Surely, Grices preferred collocation, unlike surely
Ryles, is "Grice knows that p." Grice has no problem in seeing this as
involving three clauses: First, p. Second, Grice believes that p, and third, p
causes Grices belief. No mention of certainty. This is the neo-Prichardian in
Grice, from having been a neo-Stoutian (Stout was obsessed, as a few Oxonians
like Hampshire and Hart were, with certainty). If the three-prong analysis of
know applies to the doxastic, Grices two-prong analysis of intending in
‘Intention and UNcertainty,’ again purposively avoiding certainty, covers the
buletic realm. This does not mean that Grice, however proud he was of his
ignorance of the history of philosophy (He held it as a badge of honour, his
tuteee Strawson recalls), had read some of the philosophical classics to
realise that certainty had been an obsession of what Ryle abusively (as he
himself puts it) called Descartes and the Establishments "official
doctrine"! While ps true in Grices analysis of know is harmless enough,
there obviously is no correlate for ps truth in the buletic case. Grices
example is Grice intending to scratch his head, via his willing that Grice
scratches his head in t2. In this case, as he notes, the doxastic eleent
involves the uniformity of nature, and ones more or less relying that if Grice
had a head to be scratched in t1, he will have a head to be sratched in t2,
when his intention actually GETS satisfied, or fulfilled. Grice was never
worried about buletic satisfaction. As the intentionalist that Suppes showed us
Grice was, Grice is very much happy to say that if Smith intends to give Joness
a job, the facct as to whether Jones actually gets the job is totally
irrelevant for most philosophical purposes. He gets more serious when he is
happier with privileged access than incorrigibility in “Method.” But he is less
strict than Austin. For Austin, "That is a finch implies that the utterer
KNOWS its a finch. While Grice has a maxim, do not say that for which you lack
adequate evidence (Gettiers analysandum) and a super-maxim, try to make
your contribution one that is true, the very phrasing highlights Grices
cavalier to this! Imagine Kant turning on his grave. "Try!?". Grice
is very clever in having try in the super-maxim, and a prohibition as the
maxim, involving falsehood avoidance, "Do not say what you believe to be
false." Even here he is cavalier. "Cf. "Do not say what you KNOW
to be false." If Gettier were wrong, the combo of maxims yields, "Say
what you KNOW," say what you are certain about! Enough for Sextus
Empiricus having one single maxim: "Either utter a phenomenalist
utterance, a question or an order, or keep your mouth shut!." (cf. Grice,
"My lips are sealed," as cooperative or helfpul in ways -- "At
least he is not lying."). Hampshire, in the course of some recent
remarks,l advances the view that self-prediction is (logically) impossible.
When I say I know that I shall do X (as against, e.g., X will happen to me, or
You will do X), I am not contemplating myself, as I might someone else, and
giving tongue to a conjecture about myself and my future acts, as I might be
doing about someone else or about the behaviour ofan animal -for that would be
tantamount (if I understand him rightly) to looking upon myself from outside,
as it were, and treating my own acts as mere caused events. In saying that I
know that I shall do X, I am, on this view, saying that I have decided to do X:
for to predict that I shall in certain circumstances in fact do X or decide to
do X, with no reference to whether or not I have already decided to do it - to
say I can tell you now that I shall in fact act in manner X, although I am, as
a matter of fact, determined to do the very opposite - does not make sense. Any
man who says I know myself too well to believe that, whatever I now decide, I
shall do anything other than X when the circumstances actually arise is in
fact, if I interpret Hampshires views correctly, saying that he does not
really, i.e. seriously, propose to set himself against doing X, that he does
not propose even to try to act otherwise, that he has in fact decided to let
events take their course. For no man who has truly decided to try to avoid X
can, in good faith, predict his own failure to act as he has decided. He may
fail to avoid X, and he may predict this; but he cannot both decide to try to
avoid X and predict that he will not even try to do this; for he can always
try; and he knows this: he knows that this is what distinguishes him from
non-human creatures in nature. To say that he will fail even to try is
tantamount to saying that he has decided not to try. In this sense I know means
I have decided and (Murdoch, Hampshire, Gardiner and Pears, Freedom and
Knowledge, in Pears, Freedom and the Will) cannot in principle be predictive.
That, if I have understood it, is Hampshires position, and I have a good deal
of sympathy with it, for I can see that self-prediction is often an evasive way
of disclaiming responsibility for difficult decisions, while deciding in fact
to let events take their course, disguising this by attributing responsibility
for what occurs to my own allegedly unalterable nature. But I agree with
Hampshires critics in the debate, whom I take to be maintaining that, although
the situation he describes may often occur, yet circumstances may exist in
which it is possible for me both to say that I am, at this moment, resolved not
to do X, and at the same time to predict that I shall do X, because I am not
hopeful that, when the time comes, I shall in fact even so much as try to
resist doing X. I can, in effect, say I know myself well. When the crisis
comes, do not rely on me to help you. I may well run away; although I am at
this moment genuinely resolved not to be cowardly and to do all I can to stay
at your side. My prediction that my resolution will not in fact hold up is
based on knowledge of my own character, and not on my present state of mind; my
prophecy is not a symptom of bad faith (for I am not, at this moment,
vacillating) but, on the contrary, of good faith, of a wish to face the facts.
I assure you in all sincerity that my present intention is to be brave and
resist. Yet you would run a great risk if you relied too much on my present
decision; it would not be fair to conceal my past failures of nerve from you. I
can say this about others, despite the most sincere resolutions on their part,
for I can foretell how in fact they will behave; they can equally predict this
about me. Despite Hampshires plausible and tempting argument, I believe that
such objective self-knowledge is possible and occur. From Descartes to
Stout and back. Stout indeed uses both intention and certainty, and in the
same paragraph. Stout notes that, at the outset, performance falls far short of
intention. Only a certain s. of contractions of certain muscles, in proper
proportions and in a proper order, is capable of realising the end aimed at,
with the maximum of rapidity and certainty, and the minimum of obstruction and
failure, and corresponding effort. At the outset of the process of acquisition,
muscles are contracted which are superfluous, and which therefore operate as
disturbing conditions. Grices immediate trigger, however, is Ayer on sure
that, and having the right to be sure, as his immediate trigger later will be
Hampshire and Hart. Grice had high regard for Hampshires brilliant Thought and
action. He was also concerned with Stouts rather hasty UNphilosophical,
but more scientifically psychologically-oriented remarks about assurance in
practical concerns. He knew too that he was exploring an item of the
philosophers lexicon (certus) that had been brought to the forum when Anscombe
and von Wright translate Witters German expression Gewißheit in Über
Gewißheit as Certainty. The Grecians were never sure about being sure. But
the modernist turn brought by Descartes meant that Grice now had to deal with
incorrigibility and privileged access to this or that P, notably himself (When
I intend to go, I dont have to observe myself, Im on the stage, not in the
audience, or Only I can say I will to London, expressing my intention to do so.
If you say, you will go you are expressing yours! Grice found Descartes
very funny ‒ in a French way. Grice is interested in contesting Ayer and other
Oxford philosophers, on the topic of a criterion for certainty. In so
doing, Grice choses Descartess time-honoured criterion of clarity and
distinction, as applied to perception. Grice does NOT quote
Descartes in French! In the proceedings, Grice distinguishes between two
kinds of certainty apparently ignored by Descartes: (a) objective
certainty: Ordinary-language variant: It is certain that p, whatever
it refers to, cf. Grice, it is an illusion; what is it? (b) Subjective
certainty: Ordinary-language variant: I am certain that p. I
being, of course, Grice, in my bestest days, of course! There are further
items on Descartes in the Grice Collection, notably in the last s. of topics
arranged alphabetically. Grice never cared to publish his views on
Descartes until he found an opportunity to do so when compiling his WOW. Grice
is not interested in an exegesis of Descartess thought. He doesnt care to give
a reference to any edition of Descartess oeuvre. But he plays with certain. It
is certain that p is objective certainty, apparently. I am certain that p is
Subjectsive certainty, rather. Oddly, Grice will turn to UNcertainty as it
connects with intention in his BA lecture. Grices interest in Descartes
connects with Descartess search for a criterion of certainty in terms of
clarity and distinction of this or that perception. Having explored the
philosophy of perception with Warnock, its only natural he wanted to give
Descartess rambles a second and third look! Descartes on clear and distinct
perception, in WOW, II semantics and metaphysics, essay, Descartes on clear and
distinct perception and Malcom on dreaming, perception, Descartes, clear and
distinct perception, Malcolm, dreaming. Descartes meets Malcolm, and vice
versa. Descartes on clear and distinct perception, in WOW, Descartes
on clear and distinct perception, Descartes on clear and distinct perception,
in WOW, part II, semantics and metaphysics, essay. Grice gives a short overview
of Cartesian metaphysics for the BBC 3rd programme. The best example,
Grice thinks, of a metaphysical snob is provided by Descartes, about
whose idea of certainty Grice had philosophised quite a bit, since it is in
total contrast with Moore’s. Descartes is a very scientifically
minded philosopher, with very clear ideas about the proper direction for science. Descartes,
whose middle Names seems to have been Euclid, thinks that mathematics, and in
particular geometry, provides the model for a scientific procedure, or
method. And this determines all of Descartess thinking in two ways. First,
Descartes thinks that the fundamental method in science is the axiomatic
deductive method of geometry, and this Descartes conceives (as Spinoza morality
more geometrico) of as rigorous reasoning from a self-evident axiom (Cogito,
ergo sum.). Second, Descartes thinks that the Subjects matter of physical
science, from mechanics to medicine, must be fundamentally the same as the
Subjects matter of geometry! The only characteristics that the objects studied
by geometry poses are spatial characteristics. So from the point of view of
science in general, the only important features of things in the physical world
were also their spatial characteristics, what he called extensio, res extensa.
Physical science in general is a kind of dynamic, or kinetic, geometry.
Here we have an exclusive preference for a certain type of scientific
method, and a certain type of scientific explanation: the method is deductive,
the type of explanation mechanical. These beliefs about the right way to do
science are exactly reflected in Descartess ontology, one of the two branches
of metaphysics; the other is philosophical eschatology, or the study of
categories), and it is reflected in his doctrine, that is, about what really
exists. Apart from God, the divine substance, Descartes recognises just
two kinds of substance, two types of real entity. First, there is material
substance, or matter; and the belief that the only scientifically important
characteristics of things in the physical world are their spatial
characteristics goes over, in the language of metaphysics, into the doctrine
that these are their only characteristics. Second, and to Ryle’s horror,
Descartes recognizes the mind or soul, or the mental substance, of which the essential
characteristic is thinking; and thinking itself, in its pure form at least, is
conceived of as simply the intuitive grasping of this or that
self-evident axiom and this or that of its deductive consequence. These
restrictive doctrines about reality and knowledge naturally call for
adjustments elsewhere in our ordinary scheme of things. With the help of the
divine substance, these are duly provided. It is not always obvious that
the metaphysicians scheme involves this kind of ontological preference, or
favoritism, or prejudice, or snobbery this tendency, that is, to promote one or
two categories of entity to the rank of the real, or of the ultimately real, to
the exclusion of others, Descartess entia realissima. One is taught at Oxford
that epistemology begins with the Moderns such as Descartes, which is not true.
Grice was concerned with “certain,” which was applied in Old Roman times to
this or that utterer: the person who is made certain in reference to a thing,
certain, sure. Lewis and Short have a few quotes: “certi sumus periisse omnia;”
“num quid nunc es certior?,” “posteritatis, i. e. of posthumous fame,”
“sententiæ,” “judicii,” “certus de suā geniturā;” “damnationis;” “exitii,”
“spei,” “matrimonii,” “certi sumus;” in the phrase “certiorem facere aliquem;”
“de aliquā re, alicujus rei, with a foll, acc. and inf., with a rel.-clause or
absol.;” “to inform, apprise one of a thing: me certiorem face: “ut nos facias
certiores,” “uti Cæsarem de his rebus certiorem faciant;” “qui certiorem me sui
consilii fecit;” “Cæsarem certiorem faciunt, sese non facile ab oppidis vim
hostium prohibere;” “faciam te certiorem quid egerim;” with subj. only,
“milites certiores facit, paulisper intermitterent proelium,” pass., “quod
crebro certior per me fias de omnibus rebus,” “Cæsar certior factus est, tres
jam copiarum partes Helvetios id flumen transduxisse;” “factus certior, quæ res
gererentur,” “non consulibus certioribus factis,” also in posit., though
rarely; “fac me certum quid tibi est;” “lacrimæ suorum tam subitæ matrem certam
fecere ruinæ,” uncertainty, Grice loved the OED, and its entry for will
was his favourite. But he first had a look to shall. For Grice, "I shall
climb Mt. Everest," is surely a prediction. And then Grice turns to the
auxiliary he prefers, will. Davidson, Intending, R. Grandy and Warner,
PGRICE. “Uncertainty,” “Aspects.” “Conception,” Davidson on intending,
intending and trying, Brandeis.”Method,” in “Conception,” WOW . Hampshire and
Hart. Decision, intention, and certainty, Mind, Harman, Willing and intending
in PGRICE. Practical reasoning. Review of Met.
29. Thought, Princeton, for functionalist approach alla Grice’s
“Method.” Principles of reasoning. Rational action and the extent of intention.
Social theory and practice. Jeffrey, Probability kinematics, in The logic of
decision, cited by Harman in PGRICE. Kahneman and Tversky, Judgement under
uncertainty, Science, cited by Harman in PGRICE. Nisbet and Ross, Human
inference, cited by Harman in PGRICE. Pears, Predicting and deciding. Prichard,
Acting, willing, and desiring, in Moral obligations, Oxford ed. by Urmson Speranza, The Grice Circle Wants You. Stout,
Voluntary action. Mind 5, repr in Studies in philosophy and psychology,
Macmillan, cited by Grice, “Uncertainty.” Urmson, ‘Introduction’ to Prichard’s
‘Moral obligations.’ I shant but Im not certain I wont – Grice. How
uncertain can Grice be? This is the Henriette Herz BA lecture, and as such
published in The Proceedings of the BA. Grice calls himself a
neo-Prichardian (after the Oxford philosopher) and cares to quote from a few
other philosophers ‒ some of whom he was not necessarily associated
with: such as Kenny and Anscombe, and some of whom he was, notably
Pears. Grices motto: Where there is a neo-Prichardian willing, there is a palæo-Griceian
way! Grice quotes Pears, of Christ Church, as the philosopher he found
especially congenial to explore areas in what both called philosophical
psychology, notably the tricky use of intending as displayed by a few
philosophers even in their own circle, such as Hampshire and Hart in Intention,
decision, and certainty. The title of Grices lecture is meant to provoke
that pair of Oxonian philosophers Grice knew so well and who were too ready to
bring in certainty in an area that requires deep philosophical
exploration. This is the Henriette Herz Trust annual lecture. It
means its delivered annually by different philosophers, not always Grice! Grice
had been appointed a FBA earlier, but he took his time to deliver his lecture. With
your lecture, you implicate, Hi! Grice, and indeed Pears, were motivated by
Hampshires and Harts essay on intention and certainty in Mind. Grice knew
Hampshire well, and had actually enjoyed his Thought and Action. He preferred
Hampshires Thought and action to Anscombes Intention. Trust Oxford being what
it is that TWO volumes on intending are published in the same year! Which one
shall I read first? Eventually, neither ‒ immediately. Rather, Grice managed to
unearth some sketchy notes by Prichard (he calls himself a neo-Prichardian)
that Urmson had made available for the Clarendon Press ‒ notably Prichards
essay on willing that. Only a Corpus-Christi genius like Prichard will
distinguish will to, almost unnecessary, from will that, so crucial. For Grice,
wills that , unlike wills to, is
properly generic, in that p, that follows the that-clause, need NOT refer to
the Subjects of the sentence. Surely I can will that Smith wins the match! But
Grice also quotes Anscombe (whom otherwise would not count, although they did
share a discussion panel at the American Philosophical Association) and Kenny,
besides Pears. Of Anscombe, Grice borrows (but never returns) the
direction-of-fit term of art, actually Austinian. From Kenny, Grice borrows
(and returns) the concept of voliting. His most congenial approach was
Pearss. Grice had of course occasion to explore disposition and intention
on earlier occasions. Grice is especially concerned with a dispositional
analysis to intending. He will later reject it in “Uncertainty.” But
that was Grice for you! Grice is especially interested in distinguishing his
views from Ryles over-estimated dispositional account of intention, which Grice
sees as reductionist, and indeed eliminationist, if not boringly behaviourist,
even in analytic key. The logic of dispositions is tricky, as Grice will later
explore in connection with rationality, rational propension or propensity, and
metaphysics, the as if operator). While Grice focuses on uncertainty, he is
trying to be funny. He knew that Oxonians like Hart and Hampshire were obsessed
with certainty. I was so surprised that Hampshire and Hart were claiming
decision and intention are psychological states about which the agent is
certain, that I decided on the spot that that could certainly be a nice
topic for my BA lecture! Grice granted that in some cases, a declaration of an
intention can be authorative in a certain certain way, i. e. as implicating
certainty. But Grice wants us to consider: Marmaduke Bloggs intends to climb
Mt. Everest. Surely he cant be certain hell succeed. Grice used the
same example at the APA, of all places. To amuse Grice, Davidson, who was
present, said: Surely thats just an implicaturum! Just?! Grice was
almost furious in his British guarded sort of way. Surely not
just! Pears, who was also present, tried to reconcile: If I may,
Davidson, I think Grice would take it that, if certainty is implicated, the
whole thing becomes too social to be true. They kept discussing implicaturum
versus entailment. Is certainty entailed then? Cf. Urmson on certainly vs.
knowingly, and believably. Davidson asked. No, disimplicated! is Grices
curt reply. The next day, he explained to Davidson that he had invented
the concept of disimplicaturum just to tease him, and just one night before,
while musing in the hotel room! Talk of uncertainty was thus for Grice
intimately associated with his concern about the misuse of know to mean
certain, especially in the exegeses that Malcolm made popular about, of all
people, Moore! V. Scepticism and common sense and Moore and philosophers
paradoxes above, and Causal theory and Prolegomena for a summary of Malcoms
misunderstanding Moore! Grice manages to quote from Stouts Voluntary action and
Brecht. And he notes that not all speakers are as sensitive as they should be (e.g.
distinguishing modes, as realised by shall vs. will). He emphasizes the fact
that Prichard has to be given great credit for seeing that the accurate
specification of willing should be willing that and not willing to. Grice is
especially interested in proving Stoutians (like Hampshire and Hart) wrong by
drawing from Aristotles prohairesis-doxa distinction, or in his parlance, the
buletic-doxastic distinction. Grice quotes from Aristotle. Prohairesis cannot
be opinion/doxa. For opinion is thought to relate to all kinds of things, no
less to eternal things and impossible things than to things in our own power;
and it is distinguished by its falsity or truth, not by its badness or
goodness, while choice is distinguished rather by these. Now with opinion in general
perhaps no one even says it is identical. But it is not identical even with any
kind of opinion; for by choosing or deciding, or prohairesis, what is good or
bad we are men of a certain character, which we are not by holding this or that
opinion or doxa. And we choose to get or avoid something good or bad, but we
have opinions about what a thing is or whom it is good for or how it is good
for him; we can hardly be said to opine to get or avoid anything. And choice is
praised for being related to the right object rather than for being rightly
related to it, opinion for being truly related to its object. And we choose
what we best know to be good, but we opine what we do not quite know; and it is
not the same people that are thought to make the best choices and to have the
best opinions, but some are thought to have fairly good opinions, but by reason
of vice to choose what they should not. If opinion precedes choice or
accompanies it, that makes no difference; for it is not this that we are
considering, but whether it is identical with some kind of opinion. What, then,
or what kind of thing is it, since it is none of the things we have mentioned?
It seems to be voluntary, but not all that is voluntary to be an object of
choice. Is it, then, what has been decided on by previous deliberation? At any
rate choice involves a rational principle and thought. Even the Names seems to
suggest that it is what is chosen before other things. His final analysis of G
intends that p is in terms of, B1, a buletic condition, to the effect that G
wills that p, and D2, an attending doxastic condition, to the effect that G
judges that B1 causes p. Grice ends this essay with a nod to Pears and an open
point about the justifiability (other than evidential) for the acceptability of
the agents deciding and intending versus the evidential justifiability of the
agents predicting that what he intends will be satisfied. It is important to
note that in his earlier Disposition and intention, Grice dedicates the first
part to counterfactual if general. This is a logical point. Then as an account
for a psychological souly concept ψ. If G does A, sensory input, G does B,
behavioural output. No ψ without the behavioural output that ψ is meant to
explain. His problem is with the first person. The functionalist I does not
need a black box. The here would be both
incorrigibility and privileged access. Pology only explains their evolutionary
import. Certum -- Certainty: cf. H. P. Grice, “Intention and uncertainty.” the
property of being certain, which is either a psychological property of persons
or an epistemic feature of proposition-like objects e.g., beliefs, utterances,
statements. We can say that a person, S, is psychologically certain that p
where ‘p’ stands for a proposition provided S has no doubt whatsoever that p is
true. Thus, a person can be certain regardless of the degree of epistemic
warrant for a proposition. In general, philosophers have not found this an
interesting property to explore. The exception is Peter Unger, who argued for
skepticism, claiming that 1 psychological certainty is required for knowledge
and 2 no person is ever certain of anything or hardly anything. As applied to
propositions, ‘certain’ has no univocal use. For example, some authors e.g.,
Chisholm may hold that a proposition is epistemically certain provided no
proposition is more warranted than it. Given that account, it is possible that
a proposition is certain, yet there are legitimate reasons for doubting it just
as long as there are equally good grounds for doubting every equally warranted
proposition. Other philosophers have adopted a Cartesian account of certainty
in which a proposition is epistemically certain provided it is warranted and
there are no legitimate grounds whatsoever for doubting it. Both Chisholm’s and
the Cartesian characterizations of epistemic certainty can be employed to
provide a basis for skepticism. If knowledge entails certainty, then it can be
argued that very little, if anything, is known. For, the argument continues,
only tautologies or propositions like ‘I exist’ or ‘I have beliefs’ are such
that either nothing is more warranted or there are absolutely no grounds for
doubt. Thus, hardly anything is known. Most philosophers have responded either
by denying that ‘certainty’ is an absolute term, i.e., admitting of no degrees,
or by denying that knowledge requires certainty Dewey, Chisholm, Vitters, and
Lehrer. Others have agreed that knowledge does entail absolute certainty, but
have argued that absolute certainty is possible e.g., Moore. Sometimes
‘certain’ is modified by other expressions, as in ‘morally certain’ or
‘metaphysically certain’ or ‘logically certain’. Once again, there is no
universally accepted account of these terms. Typically, however, they are used
to indicate degrees of warrant for a proposition, and often that degree of
warrant is taken to be a function of the type of proposition under
consideration. For example, the proposition that smoking causes cancer is
morally certain provided its warrant is sufficient to justify acting as though
it were true. The evidence for such a proposition may, of necessity, depend
upon recognizing particular features of the world. On the other hand, in order
for a proposition, say that every event has a cause, to be metaphysically certain,
the evidence for it must not depend upon recognizing particular features of the
world but rather upon recognizing what must be true in order for our world to
be the kind of world it is i.e., one
having causal connections. Finally, a proposition, say that every effect has a
cause, may be logically certain if it is derivable from “truths of logic” that
do not depend in any way upon recognizing anything about our world. Since other
taxonomies for these terms are employed by philosophers, it is crucial to examine
the use of the terms in their contexts. Refs.:
The main source is his BA lecture on ‘uncertainty,’ but using the keyword
‘certainty’ is useful too. His essay on Descartes in WoW is important, and
sources elsehere in the Grice Papers, such as the predecessor to the
“Uncertainty” lecture in “Disposition and intention,” also his discussion of
avowal (vide references above), incorrigibility and privileged access in
“Method,” repr. in “Conception,” BANC
character, mid-14c., carecter,
"symbol marked or branded on the body;" mid-15c., "symbol or
drawing used in sorcery;" late 15c., "alphabetic letter, graphic
symbol standing for a sound or syllable;" from Old French caratere
"feature, character" (13c., Modern French caractère), from Latin
character, from Greek kharaktēr "engraved mark," also "symbol or
imprint on the soul," properly "instrument for marking," from
kharassein "to engrave," from kharax "pointed stake," a
word of uncertain etymology which Beekes considers "most probably
Pre-Greek." The Latin ch- spelling was restored from 1500s.
The meaning of Greek kharaktēr was extended in Hellenistic times by metaphor to
"a defining quality, individual feature." In English, the meaning
"sum of qualities that define a person or thing and distinguish it from another"
is from 1640s. That of "moral qualities assigned to a person by
repute" is from 1712. You remember Eponina, who kept her husband
alive in an underground cavern so devotedly and heroically? The force of
character she showed in keeping up his spirits would have been used to hide a
lover from her husband if they had been living quietly in Rome. Strong
characters need strong nourishment. [Stendhal "de l'Amour,"
1822] Sense of "person in a play or novel" is first attested 1660s,
in reference to the "defining qualities" he or she is given by the
author. Meaning "a person" in the abstract is from 1749; especially
"eccentric person" (1773). Colloquial sense of "chap,
fellow" is from 1931. Character-actor, one who specializes in characters
with marked peculiarities, is attested from 1861; character-assassination is
from 1888; character-building (n.) from 1886. -- the comprehensive set
of ethical and intellectual dispositions of a person. Intellectual virtues like carefulness in the evaluation of
evidence promote, for one, the practice
of seeking truth. Moral or ethical virtues
including traits like courage and generosity dispose persons not only to choices and
actions but also to attitudes and emotions. Such dispositions are generally
considered relatively stable and responsive to reasons. Appraisal of character
transcends direct evaluation of particular actions in favor of examination of
some set of virtues or the admirable human life as a whole. On some views this
admirable life grounds the goodness of particular actions. This suggests
seeking guidance from role models, and their practices, rather than relying
exclusively on rules. Role models will, at times, simply perceive the salient
features of a situation and act accordingly. Being guided by role models
requires some recognition of just who should be a role model. One may act out
of character, since dispositions do not automatically produce particular
actions in specific cases. One may also have a conflicted character if the
virtues one’s character comprises contain internal tensions between, say,
tendencies to impartiality and to friendship. The importance of formative
education to the building of character introduces some good fortune into the
acquisition of character. One can have a good character with a disagreeable
personality or have a fine personality with a bad character because personality
is not typically a normative notion, whereas character is.
chiliagon: referred to by Grice in “Some remarks about the
senses.’ In geometry, a chiliagon, or 1000-gon is a polygon with 1,000 sides. Philosophers commonly refer to chiliagons
to illustrate ideas about the nature and workings of thought, meaning, and
mental representation. A chiliagon is a regular
chiliagon Polygon 1000.svg A regular chiliagon Type Regular polygon Edges and
vertices 1000 Schläfli symbol {1000}, t{500}, tt{250}, ttt{125} Coxeter diagram
CDel node 1.pngCDel 10.pngCDel 0x.pngCDel 0x.pngCDel node.png CDel node
1.pngCDel 5.pngCDel 0x.pngCDel 0x.pngCDel node 1.png Symmetry group Dihedral
(D1000), order 2×1000 Internal angle (degrees) 179.64° Dual polygon Self
Properties Convex, cyclic, equilateral, isogonal, isotoxal A whole
regular chiliagon is not visually discernible from a circle. The lower section
is a portion of a regular chiliagon, 200 times as large as the smaller one,
with the vertices highlighted. In geometry, a chiliagon (/ˈkɪliəɡɒn/) or
1000-gon is a polygon with 1,000 sides. Philosophers commonly refer to
chiliagons to illustrate ideas about the nature and workings of thought,
meaning, and mental representation. Contents 1 Regular chiliagon 2
Philosophical application 3 Symmetry 4 Chiliagram 5 See also 6 References
Regular chiliagon A regular chiliagon is represented by Schläfli symbol {1,000}
and can be constructed as a truncated 500-gon, t{500}, or a twice-truncated
250-gon, tt{250}, or a thrice-truncated 125-gon, ttt{125}. The measure of
each internal angle in a regular chiliagon is 179.64°. The area of a regular
chiliagon with sides of length a is given by {\displaystyle
A=250a^{2}\cot {\frac {\pi }{1000}}\simeq 79577.2\,a^{2}}A=250a^{2}\cot
{\frac {\pi }{1000}}\simeq 79577.2\,a^{2} This result differs from the
area of its circumscribed circle by less than 4 parts per million.
Because 1,000 = 23 × 53, the number of sides is neither a product of distinct
Fermat primes nor a power of two. Thus the regular chiliagon is not a
constructible polygon. Indeed, it is not even constructible with the use of
neusis or an angle trisector, as the number of sides is neither a product of
distinct Pierpont primes, nor a product of powers of two and three.
Philosophical application René Descartes uses the chiliagon as an example in
his Sixth Meditation to demonstrate the difference between pure intellection
and imagination. He says that, when one thinks of a chiliagon, he "does
not imagine the thousand sides or see them as if they were present" before
him – as he does when one imagines a triangle, for example. The imagination
constructs a "confused representation," which is no different from
that which it constructs of a myriagon (a polygon with ten thousand sides).
However, he does clearly understand what a chiliagon is, just as he understands
what a triangle is, and he is able to distinguish it from a myriagon.
Therefore, the intellect is not dependent on imagination, Descartes claims, as
it is able to entertain clear and distinct ideas when imagination is unable to.
Philosopher Pierre Gassendi, a contemporary of Descartes, was critical of this
interpretation, believing that while Descartes could imagine a chiliagon, he
could not understand it: one could "perceive that the word 'chiliagon'
signifies a figure with a thousand angles [but] that is just the meaning of the
term, and it does not follow that you understand the thousand angles of the
figure any better than you imagine them." The example of a chiliagon is
also referenced by other philosophers, such as Immanuel Kant. David Hume points
out that it is "impossible for the eye to determine the angles of a
chiliagon to be equal to 1996 right angles, or make any conjecture, that
approaches this proportion."[4] Gottfried Leibniz comments on a use of the
chiliagon by John Locke, noting that one can have an idea of the polygon
without having an image of it, and thus distinguishing ideas from images. Henri
Poincaré uses the chiliagon as evidence that "intuition is not necessarily
founded on the evidence of the senses" because "we can not represent
to ourselves a chiliagon, and yet we reason by intuition on polygons in
general, which include the chiliagon as a particular case." Inspired by Descartes's chiliagon example,
Grice, R. M. Chisholm and other 20th-century philosophers have used similar
examples to make similar points. Chisholm's ‘speckled hen,’ which need not have
a determinate number of speckles to be successfully imagined, is perhaps the
most famous of these. Symmetry The symmetries of a regular chiliagon.
Light blue lines show subgroups of index 2. The 4 boxed subgraphs are
positionally related by index 5 subgroups. The regular chiliagon has Dih1000
dihedral symmetry, order 2000, represented by 1,000 lines of reflection. Dih100
has 15 dihedral subgroups: Dih500, Dih250, Dih125, Dih200, Dih100, Dih50,
Dih25, Dih40, Dih20, Dih10, Dih5, Dih8, Dih4, Dih2, and Dih1. It also has 16
more cyclic symmetries as subgroups: Z1000, Z500, Z250, Z125, Z200, Z100, Z50,
Z25, Z40, Z20, Z10, Z5, Z8, Z4, Z2, and Z1, with Zn representing π/n radian
rotational symmetry. John Conway labels these lower symmetries with a
letter and order of the symmetry follows the letter.[8] He gives d (diagonal)
with mirror lines through vertices, p with mirror lines through edges
(perpendicular), i with mirror lines through both vertices and edges, and g for
rotational symmetry. a1 labels no symmetry. These lower symmetries allow
degrees of freedom in defining irregular chiliagons. Only the g1000 subgroup
has no degrees of freedom but can be seen as directed edges. Chiliagram A
chiliagram is a 1,000-sided star polygon. There are 199 regular forms[9] given
by Schläfli symbols of the form {1000/n}, where n is an integer between 2 and
500 that is coprime to 1,000. There are also 300 regular star figures in the
remaining cases. For example, the regular {1000/499} star polygon is
constructed by 1000 nearly radial edges. Each star vertex has an internal angle
of 0.36 degrees.[10] {1000/499} Star polygon 1000-499.svg Star polygon
1000-499 center.png Central area with moiré patterns See also Myriagon Megagon
Philosophy of Mind Philosophy of Language References Meditation VI by Descartes
(English translation). Sepkoski, David (2005). "Nominalism and
constructivism in seventeenth-century mathematical philosophy". Historia
Mathematica. 32: 33–59. doi:10.1016/j.hm.2003.09.002. Immanuel Kant,
"On a Discovery," trans. Henry Allison, in Theoretical Philosophy
After 1791, ed. Henry Allison and Peter Heath, Cambridge UP, 2002 [Akademie
8:121]. Kant does not actually use a chiliagon as his example, instead using a
96-sided figure, but he is responding to the same question raised by Descartes.
David Hume, The Philosophical Works of David Hume, Volume 1, Black and Tait,
1826, p. 101. Jonathan Francis Bennett (2001), Learning from Six
Philosophers: Descartes, Spinoza, Leibniz, Locke, Berkeley, Hume, Volume 2,
Oxford University Press, ISBN 0198250924, p. 53. Henri Poincaré (1900)
"Intuition and Logic in Mathematics" in William Bragg Ewald (ed) From
Kant to Hilbert: A Source Book in the Foundations of Mathematics, Volume 2,
Oxford University Press, 2007, ISBN 0198505361, p. 1015. Roderick Chisholm,
"The Problem of the Speckled Hen", Mind 51 (1942): pp. 368–373.
"These problems are all descendants of Descartes's 'chiliagon' argument in
the sixth of his Meditations" (Joseph Heath, Following the Rules:
Practical Reasoning and Deontic Constraint, Oxford: OUP, 2008, p. 305, note
15). The Symmetries of Things, Chapter 20 199 = 500 cases − 1
(convex) − 100 (multiples of 5) − 250 (multiples of 2) + 50 (multiples of 2 and
5) 0.36 = 180 (1 - 2 /(1000 / 499) ) = 180 ( 1 – 998 / 1000 ) = 180 ( 2 /
1000 ) = 180 / 500 chiliagon vte Polygons (List) Triangles Acute Equilateral Ideal
IsoscelesObtuseRight Quadrilaterals Antiparallelogram Bicentric CyclicEquidiagonalEx-tangentialHarmonic
Isosceles trapezoidKiteLambertOrthodiagonal Parallelogram Rectangle Right kite Rhombus
Saccheri SquareTangentialTangential trapezoidTrapezoid By number of
sides Monogon (1) Digon (2) Triangle (3) Quadrilateral (4) Pentagon (5) Hexagon
(6) Heptagon (7) Octagon (8) Nonagon (Enneagon, 9) Decagon (10) Hendecagon (11)
Dodecagon (12) Tridecagon (13) Tetradecagon (14) Pentadecagon (15) Hexadecagon
(16) Heptadecagon (17) Octadecagon (18) Enneadecagon (19)Icosagon
(20)Icosihenagon [de] (21)Icosidigon (22) Icositetragon (24) Icosihexagon (26) Icosioctagon
(28) Triacontagon (30) Triacontadigon (32) Triacontatetragon (34) Tetracontagon
(40) Tetracontadigon (42)Tetracontaoctagon (48)Pentacontagon (50) Pentacontahenagon
[de] (51) Hexacontagon (60) Hexacontatetragon (64) Heptacontagon
(70)Octacontagon (80) Enneacontagon (90) Enneacontahexagon (96) Hectogon (100) 120-gon257-gon360-gonChiliagon
(1000) Myriagon (10000) 65537-gonMegagon (1000000) 4294967295-gon [ru;
de]Apeirogon (∞) Star polygons Pentagram Hexagram Heptagram Octagram Enneagram Decagram
Hendecagram Dodecagram Classes Concave Convex Cyclic Equiangular Equilateral Isogonal
Isotoxal Pseudotriangle Regular Simple SkewStar-shaped Tangential Categories:
Polygons1000 (number).
ad- ad-rbiter
– from ad-biter, where ‘bito,’ ‘betere’ is cognate with ‘vado’ and ‘baino’ -- arbitrium
-- choose -- choice, v. rational
choice. choice sequence, a variety of infinite sequence introduced by L. E. J.
Brouwer to express the non-classical properties of the continuum the set of
real numbers within intuitionism. A choice sequence is determined by a finite
initial segment together with a “rule” for continuing the sequence. The rule,
however, may allow some freedom in choosing each subsequent element. Thus the
sequence might start with the rational numbers 0 and then ½, and the rule might
require the n ! 1st element to be some rational number within ½n of the nth
choice, without any further restriction. The sequence of rationals thus
generated must converge to a real number, r. But r’s definition leaves open its
exact location in the continuum. Speaking intuitionistically, r violates the
classical law of trichotomy: given any pair of real numbers e.g., r and ½, the
first is either less than, equal to, or greater than the second. From the 0s
Brouwer got this non-classical effect without appealing to the apparently nonmathematical
notion of free choice. Instead he used sequences generated by the activity of
an idealized mathematician the creating subject, together with propositions
that he took to be undecided. Given such a proposition, P e.g. Fermat’s last theorem that for n 2 there is no general method of finding
triplets of numbers with the property that the sum of each of the first two
raised to the nth power is equal to the result of raising the third to the nth
power or Goldbach’s conjecture that every even number is the sum of two prime
numbers we can modify the definition of
r: The n ! 1st element is ½ if at the nth stage of research P remains
undecided. That element and all its successors are ½ ! ½n if by that stage P is
proved; they are ½ † ½n if P is refuted. Since he held that there is an endless
supply of such propositions, Brouwer believed that we can always use this
method to refute classical laws. In the early 0s Stephen Kleene and Richard
Vesley reproduced some main parts of Brouwer’s theory of the continuum in a
formal system based on Kleene’s earlier recursion-theoretic interpretation of
intuitionism and of choice sequences. At about the same time but in a different and occasionally
incompatible vein Saul Kripke formally
captured the power of Brouwer’s counterexamples without recourse to recursive
functions and without invoking either the creating subject or the notion of
free choice. Subsequently Georg Kreisel, A. N. Troelstra, Dirk Van Dalen, and
others produced formal systems that analyze Brouwer’s basic assumptions about
open-futured objects like choice sequences.
Ciceronian implicaturum: Marcus Tullius, Roman statesman, orator, essayist,
and letter writer. He was important not so much for formulating individual
philosophical arguments as for expositions of the doctrines of the major
schools of Hellenistic philosophy, and for, as he put it, “teaching philosophy
to speak Latin.” The significance of the latter can hardly be overestimated.
Cicero’s coinages helped shape the philosophical vocabulary of the
Latin-speaking West well into the early modern period. The most characteristic
feature of Cicero’s thought is his attempt to unify philosophy and rhetoric.
His first major trilogy, On the Orator, On the Republic, and On the Laws,
presents a vision of wise statesmen-philosophers whose greatest achievement is
guiding political affairs through rhetorical persuasion rather than violence.
Philosophy, Cicero argues, needs rhetoric to effect its most important
practical goals, while rhetoric is useless without the psychological, moral,
and logical justification provided by philosophy. This combination of eloquence
and philosophy constitutes what he calls humanitas a coinage whose enduring influence is
attested in later revivals of humanism
and it alone provides the foundation for constitutional governments; it
is acquired, moreover, only through broad training in those subjects worthy of
free citizens artes liberales. In philosophy of education, this Ciceronian
conception of a humane education encompassing poetry, rhetoric, history,
morals, and politics endured as an ideal, especially for those convinced that
instruction in the liberal disciplines is essential for citizens if their
rational autonomy is to be expressed in ways that are culturally and politically
beneficial. A major aim of Cicero’s earlier works is to appropriate for Roman
high culture one of Greece’s most distinctive products, philosophical theory,
and to demonstrate Roman superiority. He thus insists that Rome’s laws and
political institutions successfully embody the best in Grecian political
theory, whereas the Grecians themselves were inadequate to the crucial task of
putting their theories into practice. Taking over the Stoic conception of the
universe as a rational whole, governed by divine reason, he argues that human
societies must be grounded in natural law. For Cicero, nature’s law possesses
the characteristics of a legal code; in particular, it is formulable in a
comparatively extended set of rules against which existing societal institutions
can be measured. Indeed, since they so closely mirror the requirements of
nature, Roman laws and institutions furnish a nearly perfect paradigm for human
societies. Cicero’s overall theory, if not its particular details, established
a lasting framework for anti-positivist theories of law and morality, including
those of Aquinas, Grotius, Suárez, and Locke. The final two years of his life
saw the creation of a series of dialogue-treatises that provide an encyclopedic
survey of Hellenistic philosophy. Cicero himself follows the moderate
fallibilism of Philo of Larissa and the New Academy. Holding that philosophy is
a method and not a set of dogmas, he endorses an attitude of systematic doubt.
However, unlike Cartesian doubt, Cicero’s does not extend to the real world
behind phenomena, since he does not envision the possibility of strict
phenomenalism. Nor does he believe that systematic doubt leads to radical
skepticism about knowledge. Although no infallible criterion for distinguishing
true from false impressions is available, some impressions, he argues, are more
“persuasive” probabile and can be relied on to guide action. In Academics he
offers detailed accounts of Hellenistic epistemological debates, steering a
middle course between dogmatism and radical skepticism. A similar strategy
governs the rest of his later writings. Cicero presents the views of the major
schools, submits them to criticism, and tentatively supports any positions he
finds “persuasive.” Three connected works, On Divination, On Fate, and On the
Nature of the Gods, survey Epicurean, Stoic, and Academic arguments about
theology and natural philosophy. Much of the treatment of religious thought and
practice is cool, witty, and skeptically detached much in the manner of eighteenth-century
philosophes who, along with Hume, found much in Cicero to emulate. However, he
concedes that Stoic arguments for providence are “persuasive.” So too in
ethics, he criticizes Epicurean, Stoic, and Peripatetic doctrines in On Ends 45
and their views on death, pain, irrational emotions, and happiChurch-Turing
thesis Cicero, Marcus Tullius 143 143
ness in Tusculan Disputations 45. Yet, a final work, On Duties, offers a
practical ethical system based on Stoic principles. Although sometimes
dismissed as the eclecticism of an amateur, Cicero’s method of selectively
choosing from what had become authoritative professional systems often displays
considerable reflectiveness and originality.
circulus – Grice: “I prefer ‘kreis,’ which I learned from Ayer
– its etymology is so obscure!” -- Grice’s circle -- Grice’s circle -- circular
reasoning, reasoning that, when traced backward from its conclusion, returns to
that starting point, as one returns to a starting point when tracing a circle.
The discussion of this topic by Richard Whatley in his Logic sets a high
standard of clarity and penetration. Logic textbooks often quote the following
example from Whatley: To allow every man an unbounded freedom of speech must
always be, on the whole, advantageous to the State; for it is highly conducive
to the interests of the Community, that each individual should enjoy a liberty
perfectly unlimited, of expressing his sentiments. This passage illustrates how
circular reasoning is less obvious in a language, such as English, that, in
Whatley’s words, is “abounding in synonymous expressions, which have no
resemblance in sound, and no connection in etymology.” The premise and
conclusion do not consist of just the same words in the same order, nor can
logical or grammatical principles transform one into the other. Rather, they
have the same propositional content: they say the same thing in different
words. That is why appealing to one of them to provide reason for believing the
other amounts to giving something as a reason for itself. Circular reasoning is
often said to beg the question. ‘Begging the question’ and petitio principii
are translations of a phrase in Aristotle connected with a game of formal
disputation played in antiquity but not in recent times. The meanings of ‘question’
and ‘begging’ do not in any clear way determine the meaning of ‘question
begging’. There is no simple argument form that all and only circular arguments
have. It is not logic, in Whatley’s example above, that determines the identity
of content between the premise and the conclusion. Some theorists propose
rather more complicated formal or syntactic accounts of circularity. Others
believe that any account of circular reasoning must refer to the beliefs of
those who reason. Whether or not the following argument about articles in this
dictionary is circular depends on why the first premise should be accepted: 1
The article on inference contains no split infinitives. 2 The other articles
contain no split infinitives. Therefore, 3 No article contains split
infinitives. Consider two cases. Case I: Although 2 supports 1 inductively,
both 1 and 2 have solid outside support independent of any prior acceptance of
3. This reasoning is not circular. Case II: Someone who advances the argument
accepts 1 or 2 or both, only because he believes 3. Such reasoning is circular,
even though neither premise expresses just the same proposition as the
conclusion. The question remains controversial whether, in explaining
circularity, we should refer to the beliefs of individual reasoners or only to
the surrounding circumstances. One purpose of reasoning is to increase the
degree of reasonable confidence that one has in the truth of a conclusion.
Presuming the truth of a conclusion in support of a premise thwarts this
purpose, because the initial degree of reasonable confidence in the premise
cannot then exceed the initial degree of reasonable confidence in the
conclusion. Circulus -- diallelon from ancient Grecian di allelon, ‘through one
another’, a circular definition. A definition is circular provided either the
definiendum occurs in the definiens, as in ‘Law is a lawful command’, or a
first term is defined by means of a second term, which in turn is defined by
the first term, as in ‘Law is the expressed wish of a ruler, and a ruler is one
who establishes laws.’ A diallelus is a circular argument: an attempt to
establish a conclusion by a premise that cannot be known unless the conclusion
is known in the first place. Descartes, e.g., argued: I clearly and distinctly
perceive that God exists, and what I clearly and distinctly perceive is true.
Therefore, God exists. To justify the premise that clear and distinct
perceptions are true, however, he appealed to his knowledge of God’s existence.
civil
disobedience: explored by H. P. Grice
in his analysis of moral vs. legal right -- a deliberate violation of the law,
committed in order to draw attention to or rectify perceived injustices in the
law or policies of a state. Illustrative questions raised by the topic include:
how are such acts justified, how should the legal system respond to such acts
when justified, and must such acts be done publicly, nonviolently, and/or with
a willingness to accept attendant legal sanctions?
clarke: s. Grice
analyses Clark’s proof of the existence of God in “Aspects of reasoning” --
English philosopher, preacher, and theologian. Born in Norwich, he was educated
at Cambridge, where he came under the influence of Newton. Upon graduation
Clarke entered the established church, serving for a time as chaplain to Queen
Anne. He spent the last twenty years of his life as rector of St. James,
Westminster. Clarke wrote extensively on controversial theological and
philosophical issues the nature of space
and time, proofs of the existence of God, the doctrine of the Trinity, the
incorporeality and natural immortality of the soul, freedom of the will, the
nature of morality, etc. His most philosophical works are his Boyle lectures of
1704 and 1705, in which he developed a forceful version of the cosmological argument
for the existence and nature of God and attacked the views of Hobbes, Spinoza,
and some proponents of deism; his correspondence with Leibniz 171516, in which
he defended Newton’s views of space and time and charged Leibniz with holding
views inconsistent with free will; and his writings against Anthony Collins, in
which he defended a libertarian view of the agent as the undetermined cause of
free actions and attacked Collins’s arguments for a materialistic view of the
mind. In these works Clarke maintains a position of extreme rationalism,
contending that the existence and nature of God can be conclusively
demonstrated, that the basic principles of morality are necessarily true and
immediately knowable, and that the existence of a future state of rewards and
punishments is assured by our knowledge that God will reward the morally just
and punish the morally wicked.
class: the class for those philosophers whose class have no
members -- a term sometimes used as a synonym for ‘set’. When the two are distinguished,
a class is understood as a collection in the logical sense, i.e., as the
extension of a concept e.g. the class of red objects. By contrast, sets, i.e.,
collections in the mathematical sense, are understood as occurring in stages,
where each stage consists of the sets that can be formed from the non-sets and
the sets already formed at previous stages. When a set is formed at a given
stage, only the non-sets and the previously formed sets are even candidates for
membership, but absolutely anything can gain membership in a class simply by
falling under the appropriate concept. Thus, it is classes, not sets, that
figure in the inconsistent principle of unlimited comprehension. In set theory,
proper classes are collections of sets that are never formed at any stage,
e.g., the class of all sets since new sets are formed at each stage, there is
no stage at which all sets are available to be collected into a set.
clemens: formative teacher in the early Christian church who,
as a “Christian gnostic,” combined enthusiasm for Grecian philosophy with a
defense of the church’s faith. He espoused spiritual and intellectual ascent
toward that complete but hidden knowledge or gnosis reserved for the truly
enlightened. Clement’s school did not practice strict fidelity to the
authorities, and possibly the teachings, of the institutional church, drawing
upon the Hellenistic traditions of Alexandria, including Philo and Middle
Platonism. As with the law among the Jews, so, for Clement, philosophy among
the pagans was a pedagogical preparation for Christ, in whom logos, reason, had
become enfleshed. Philosophers now should rise above their inferior
understanding to the perfect knowledge revealed in Christ. Though hostile to
gnosticism and its speculations, Clement was thoroughly Hellenized in outlook
and sometimes guilty of Docetism, not least in his reluctance to concede the
utter humanness of Jesus.
Clifford: Grice was attracted to Clifford’s idea of the ‘ethics
of belief,’ -- philosopher. Educated at King’s , London, and Trinity ,
Cambridge, he began giving public lectures in 1868, when he was appointed a
fellow of Trinity, and in 1870 became professor of applied mathematics at , London. His academic career ended
prematurely when he died of tuberculosis. Clifford is best known for his
rigorous view on the relation between belief and evidence, which, in “The
Ethics of Belief,” he summarized thus: “It is wrong always, everywhere, and for
anyone, to believe anything on insufficient evidence.” He gives this example. Imagine
a shipowner who sends to sea an emigrant ship, although the evidence raises
strong suspicions as to the vessel’s seaworthiness. Ignoring this evidence, he
convinces himself that the ship’s condition is good enough and, after it sinks
and all the passengers die, collects his insurance money without a trace of
guilt. Clifford maintains that the owner had no right to believe in the
soundness of the ship. “He had acquired his belief not by honestly earning it
in patient investigation, but by stifling his doubts.” The right Clifford is
alluding to is moral, for what one believes is not a private but a public
affair and may have grave consequences for others. He regards us as morally
obliged to investigate the evidence thoroughly on any occasion, and to withhold
belief if evidential support is lacking. This obligation must be fulfilled
however trivial and insignificant a belief may seem, for a violation of it may
“leave its stamp upon our character forever.” Clifford thus rejected
Catholicism, to which he had subscribed originally, and became an agnostic.
James’s famous essay “The Will to Believe” criticizes Clifford’s view.
According to James, insufficient evidence need not stand in the way of
religious belief, for we have a right to hold beliefs that go beyond the
evidence provided they serve the pursuit of a legitimate goal.
closure – Grice:
The etymology is convoluted: claudere --- cfr. clausura. Griceian anti-sneak
closure: a set of objects, O, is said
to exhibit closure or to be closed under a given operation, R, provided that
for every object, x, if x is a member of O and x is R-related to any object, y,
then y is a member of O. For example, the set of propositions is closed under
deduction, for if p is a proposition and p entails q, i.e., q is deducible from
p, then q is a proposition simply because only propositions can be entailed by
propositions. In addition, many subsets of the set of propositions are also
closed under deduction. For example, the set of true propositions is closed
under deduction or entailment. Others are not. Under most accounts of belief,
we may fail to believe what is entailed by what we do, in fact, believe. Thus,
if knowledge is some form of true, justified belief, knowledge is not closed
under deduction, for we may fail to believe a proposition entailed by a known
proposition. Nevertheless, there is a related issue that has been the subject
of much debate, namely: Is the set of justified propositions closed under
deduction? Aside from the obvious importance of the answer to that question in
developing an account of justification, there are two important issues in
epistemology that also depend on the answer. Subtleties aside, the so-called
Gettier problem depends in large part upon an affirmative answer to that
question. For, assuming that a proposition can be justified and false, it is
possible to construct cases in which a proposition, say p, is justified, false,
but believed. Now, consider a true proposition, q, which is believed and
entailed by p. If justification is closed under deduction, then q is justified,
true, and believed. But if the only basis for believing q is p, it is clear
that q is not known. Thus, true, justified belief is not sufficient for
knowledge. What response is appropriate to this problem has been a central
issue in epistemology since E. Gettier’s publication of “Is Justified True
Belief Knowledge?” Analysis, 3. Whether justification is closed under deduction
is also crucial when evaluating a common, traditional argument for skepticism.
Consider any person, S, and let p be any proposition ordinarily thought to be
knowable, e.g., that there is a table before S. The argument for skepticism
goes like this: 1 If p is justified for S, then, since p entails q, where q is
‘there is no evil genius making S falsely believe that p’, q is justified for
S. 2 S is not justified in believing q. Therefore, S is not justified in
believing p. The first premise depends upon justification being closed under
deduction.
cockburn: c. English philosopher and playwright who made a
significant contribution to the debates on ethical rationalism sparked by Clarke’s
Boyle lectures. The major theme of her writings is the nature of moral
obligation. Cockburn displays a consistent, non-doctrinaire philosophical
position, arguing that moral duty is to be rationally deduced from the “nature
and fitness of things” Remarks, 1747 and is not founded primarily in externally
imposed sanctions. Her writings, published anonymously, take the form of
philosophical debates with others, including Samuel Rutherforth, William
Warburton, Isaac Watts, Francis Hutcheson, and Lord Shaftesbury. Her best-known
intervention in contemporary philosophical debate was her able defense of
Locke’s Essay in 1702.
cogitatum -- cogito
ergo sum – Example given by Grice of
Descartes’s conventional implicaturum. “What Descartes said was, “je pense;
donc, j’existe.” The ‘donc’ implicaturum is an interesting one to analyse. cited
by Grice in “Descartes on clear and distinct perception.” ‘I think, therefore I
am’, the starting point of Descartes’s system of knowledge. In his Discourse on
the Method 1637, he observes that the proposition ‘I am thinking, therefore I
exist’ je pense, donc je suis is “so firm and sure that the most extravagant
suppositions of the skeptics were incapable of shaking it.” The celebrated
phrase, in its better-known Latin version, also occurs in the Principles of
Philosophy 1644, but is not to be found in the Meditations 1641, though the
latter contains the fullest statement of the reasoning behind Descartes’s
certainty of his own existence.
cognitum –
incognitum --
cohaesum- cohaerence – Grice: “All Roman words starting with co- are a
trick. haerĕo , haesi, haesum, 2, v. n. etym. dub.,
I.to hang or hold fast, to hang, stick, cleave, cling, adhere, be fixed, sit
fast, remain close to any thing or in any manner (class. and very freq., esp.
in the trop. sense; cf. pendeo); usually constr. with in, the simple abl. or
absol., less freq. with dat., with ad, sub, ex, etc. since H. P. Grice
was a correspondentist, he hated Bradley. --
theory of truth, the view that either the nature of truth or the sole
criterion for determining truth is constituted by a relation of coherence
between the belief or judgment being assessed and other beliefs or judgments.
As a view of the nature of truth, the coherence theory represents an
alternative to the correspondence theory of truth. Whereas the correspondence
theory holds that a belief is true provided it corresponds to independent
reality, the coherence theory holds that it is true provided it stands in a
suitably strong relation of coherence to other beliefs, so that the believer’s
total system of beliefs forms a highly or perhaps perfectly coherent system.
Since, on such a characterization, truth depends entirely on the internal
relations within the system of beliefs, such a conception of truth seems to
lead at once to idealism as regards the nature of reality, and its main
advocates have been proponents of absolute idealism mainly Bradley, Bosanquet,
and Brand Blanshard. A less explicitly metaphysical version of the coherence
theory was also held by certain members of the school of logical positivism
mainly Otto Neurath and Carl Hempel. The nature of the intended relation of
coherence, often characterized metaphorically in terms of the beliefs in
question fitting together or dovetailing with each other, has been and
continues to be a matter of uncertainty and controversy. Despite occasional
misconceptions to the contrary, it is clear that coherence is intended to be a substantially
more demanding relation than mere consistency, involving such things as
inferential and explanatory relations within the system of beliefs. Perfect or
ideal coherence is sometimes described as requiring that every belief in the
system of beliefs entails all the others though it must be remembered that
those offering such a characterization do not restrict entailments to those
that are formal or analytic in character. Since actual human systems of belief
seem inevitably to fall short of perfect coherence, however that is understood,
their truth is usually held to be only approximate at best, thus leading to the
absolute idealist view that truth admits of degrees. As a view of the criterion
of truth, the coherence theory of truth holds that the sole criterion or
standard for determining whether a belief is true is its coherence with other
beliefs or judgments, with the degree of justification varying with the degree
of coherence. Such a view amounts to a coherence theory of epistemic
justification. It was held by most of the proponents of the coherence theory of
the nature of truth, though usually without distinguishing the two views very
clearly. For philosophers who hold both of these views, the thesis that
coherence is the sole criterion of truth is usually logically prior, and the
coherence theory of the nature of truth is adopted as a consequence, the
clearest argument being that only the view that perfect or ideal coherence is
the nature of truth can make sense of the appeal to degrees of coherence as a
criterion of truth. -- coherentism, in
epistemology, a theory of the structure of knowledge or justified beliefs
according to which all beliefs representing knowledge are known or justified in
virtue of their relations to other beliefs, specifically, in virtue of
belonging to a coherent system of beliefs. Assuming that the orthodox account
of knowledge is correct at least in maintaining that justified true belief is
necessary for knowledge, we can identify two kinds of coherence theories of knowledge:
those that are coherentist merely in virtue of incorporating a coherence theory
of justification, and those that are doubly coherentist because they account
for both justification and truth in terms of coherence. What follows will focus
on coherence theories of justification. Historically, coherentism is the most
significant alternative to foundationalism. The latter holds that some beliefs,
basic or foundational beliefs, are justified apart from their relations to
other beliefs, while all other beliefs derive their justification from that of
foundational beliefs. Foundationalism portrays justification as having a
structure like that of a building, with certain beliefs serving as the
foundations and all other beliefs supported by them. Coherentism rejects this
image and pictures justification as having the structure of a raft. Justified
beliefs, like the planks that make up a raft, mutually support one another.
This picture of the coherence theory is due to the positivist Otto Neurath.
Among the positivists, Hempel shared Neurath’s sympathy for coherentism. Other
defenders of coherentism from the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries
were idealists, e.g., Bradley, Bosanquet, and Brand Blanshard. Idealists often
held the sort of double coherence theory mentioned above. The contrast between
foundationalism and coherentism is commonly developed in terms of the regress
argument. If we are asked what justifies one of our beliefs, we
characteristically answer by citing some other belief that supports it, e.g.,
logically or probabilistically. If we are asked about this second belief, we
are likely to cite a third belief, and so on. There are three shapes such an
evidential chain might have: it could go on forever, if could eventually end in
some belief, or it could loop back upon itself, i.e., eventually contain again
a belief that had occurred “higher up” on the chain. Assuming that infinite
chains are not really possible, we are left with a choice between chains that
end and circular chains. According to foundationalists, evidential chains must
eventually end with a foundational belief that is justified, if the belief at
the beginning of the chain is to be justified. Coherentists are then portrayed
as holding that circular chains can yield justified beliefs. This portrayal is,
in a way, correct. But it is also misleading since it suggests that the
disagreement between coherentism and foundationalism is best understood as
concerning only the structure of evidential chains. Talk of evidential chains
in which beliefs that are further down on the chain are responsible for beliefs
that are higher up naturally suggests the idea that just as real chains
transfer forces, evidential chains transfer justification. Foundationalism then
sounds like a real possibility. Foundational beliefs already have
justification, and evidential chains serve to pass the justification along to
other beliefs. But coherentism seems to be a nonstarter, for if no belief in
the chain is justified to begin with, there is nothing to pass along. Altering
the metaphor, we might say that coherentism seems about as likely to succeed as
a bucket brigade that does not end at a well, but simply moves around in a
circle. The coherentist seeks to dispel this appearance by pointing out that
the primary function of evidential chains is not to transfer epistemic status,
such as justification, from belief to belief. Indeed, beliefs are not the
primary locus of justification. Rather, it is whole systems of belief that are
justified or not in the primary sense; individual beliefs are justified in
virtue of their membership in an appropriately structured system of beliefs.
Accordingly, what the coherentist claims is that the appropriate sorts of
evidential chains, which will be circular
indeed, will likely contain numerous circles constitute justified systems of belief. The
individual beliefs within such a system are themselves justified in virtue of
their place in the entire system and not because this status is passed on to
them from beliefs further down some evidential chain in which they figure. One
can, therefore, view coherentism with considerable accuracy as a version of
foundationalism that holds all beliefs to be foundational. From this
perspective, the difference between coherentism and traditional foundationalism
has to do with what accounts for the epistemic status of foundational beliefs,
with traditional foundationalism holding that such beliefs can be justified in
various ways, e.g., by perception or reason, while coherentism insists that the
only way such beliefs can be justified is by being a member of an appropriately
structured system of beliefs. One outstanding problem the coherentist faces is
to specify exactly what constitutes a coherent system of beliefs. Coherence
clearly must involve much more than mere absence of mutually contradictory
beliefs. One way in which beliefs can be logically consistent is by concerning
completely unrelated matters, but such a consistent system of beliefs would not
embody the sort of mutual support that constitutes the core idea of
coherentism. Moreover, one might question whether logical consistency is even
necessary for coherence, e.g., on the basis of the preface paradox. Similar
points can be made regarding efforts to begin an account of coherence with the
idea that beliefs and degrees of belief must correspond to the probability
calculus. So although it is difficult to avoid thinking that such formal
features as logical and probabilistic consistency are significantly involved in
coherence, it is not clear exactly how they are involved. An account of
coherence can be drawn more directly from the following intuitive idea: a
coherent system of belief is one in which each belief is epistemically
supported by the others, where various types of epistemic support are
recognized, e.g., deductive or inductive arguments, or inferences to the best
explanation. There are, however, at least two problems this suggestion does not
address. First, since very small sets of beliefs can be mutually supporting,
the coherentist needs to say something about the scope a system of beliefs must
have to exhibit the sort of coherence required for justification. Second, given
the possibility of small sets of mutually supportive beliefs, it is apparently
possible to build a system of very broad scope out of such small sets of
mutually supportive beliefs by mere conjunction, i.e., without forging any
significant support relations among them. Yet, since the interrelatedness of
all truths does not seem discoverable by analyzing the concept of justification,
the coherentist cannot rule out epistemically isolated subsystems of belief
entirely. So the coherentist must say what sorts of isolated subsystems of
belief are compatible with coherence. The difficulties involved in specifying a
more precise concept of coherence should not be pressed too vigorously against
the coherentist. For one thing, most foundationalists have been forced to grant
coherence a significant role within their accounts of justification, so no
dialectical advantage can be gained by pressing them. Moreover, only a little
reflection is needed to see that nearly all the difficulties involved in
specifying coherence are manifestations within a specific context of quite
general philosophical problems concerning such matters as induction,
explanation, theory choice, the nature of epistemic support, etc. They are,
then, problems that are faced by logicians, philosophers of science, and
epistemologists quite generally, regardless of whether they are sympathetic to
coherentism. Coherentism faces a number of serious objections. Since according
to coherentism justification is determined solely by the relations among
beliefs, it does not seem to be capable of taking us outside the circle of our
beliefs. This fact gives rise to complaints that coherentism cannot allow for
any input from external reality, e.g., via perception, and that it can neither
guarantee nor even claim that it is likely that coherent systems of belief will
make contact with such reality or contain true beliefs. And while it is widely
granted that justified false beliefs are possible, it is just as widely
accepted that there is an important connection between justification and truth,
a connection that rules out accounts according to which justification is not
truth-conducive. These abstractly formulated complaints can be made more vivid,
in the case of the former, by imagining a person with a coherent system of
beliefs that becomes frozen, and fails to change in the face of ongoing sensory
experience; and in the case of the latter, by pointing out that, barring an
unexpected account of coherence, it seems that a wide variety of coherent
systems of belief are possible, systems that are largely disjoint or even
incompatible.
collier: Grice found the Clavis Universalis quite fun (“to
read”). -- English philosopher, a Wiltshire parish priest whose Clavis
Universalis defends a version of immaterialism closely akin to Berkeley’s.
Matter, Collier contends, “exists in, or in dependence on mind.” He
emphatically affirms the existence of bodies, and, like Berkeley, defends
immaterialCoimbra commentaries Collier, Arthur 155 155 ism as the only alternative to
skepticism. Collier grants that bodies seem to be external, but their
“quasi-externeity” is only the effect of God’s will. In Part I of the Clavis
Collier argues as Berkeley had in his New Theory of Vision, 1709 that the
visible world is not external. In Part II he argues as Berkeley had in the
Principles, 1710, and Three Dialogues, 1713 that the external world “is a being
utterly impossible.” Two of Collier’s arguments for the “intrinsic repugnancy”
of the external world resemble Kant’s first and second antinomies. Collier
argues, e.g., that the material world is both finite and infinite; the
contradiction can be avoided, he suggests, only by denying its external
existence. Some scholars suspect that Collier deliberately concealed his debt
to Berkeley; most accept his report that he arrived at his views ten years
before he published them. Collier first refers to Berkeley in letters written
in 171415. In A Specimen of True Philosophy 1730, where he offers an
immaterialist interpretation of the opening verse of Genesis, Collier writes
that “except a single passage or two” in Berkeley’s Dialogues, there is no
other book “which I ever heard of” on the same subject as the Clavis. This is a
puzzling remark on several counts, one being that in the Preface to the
Dialogues, Berkeley describes his earlier books. Collier’s biographer reports
seeing among his papers now lost an outline, dated 1708, on “the question of
the visible world being without us or not,” but he says no more about it. The
biographer concludes that Collier’s independence cannot reasonably be doubted;
perhaps the outline would, if unearthed, establish this.
collingwood: r. g.— Grice: “The most Italian of English Oxonians!
He loved Gentile, Croce, and de Ruggiero!” – Grice: “I would not count
Collingwood as a philosopher, really, since his tutor was Carritt!” -- cited by
H. P. Grice in “Metaphysics,” in D. F. Pears, “The nature of metaphysics.” –
Like Grice, Collingwood was influenced by J. C. Wilson’s subordinate
interrogation. English philosopher and historian. His father, W. G.
Collingwood, John Ruskin’s friend, secretary, and biographer, at first educated
him at home in Coniston and later sent him to Rugby School and then Oxford.
Immediately upon graduating in 2, he was elected to a fellowship at Pembroke ;
except for service with admiralty intelligence during World War I, he remained
at Oxford until 1, when illness compelled him to retire. Although his
Autobiography expresses strong disapproval of the lines on which, during his
lifetime, philosophy at Oxford developed, he was a varsity “insider.” He was
elected to the Waynflete Professorship, the first to become vacant after he had
done enough work to be a serious candidate. He was also a leading archaeologist
of Roman Britain. Although as a student Collingwood was deeply influenced by
the “realist” teaching of John Cook Wilson, he studied not only the British
idealists, but also Hegel and the contemporary
post-Hegelians. At twenty-three, he published a translation of Croce’s
book on Vico’s philosophy. Religion and Philosophy 6, the first of his attempts
to present orthodox Christianity as philosophically acceptable, has both
idealist and Cook Wilsonian elements. Thereafter the Cook Wilsonian element
steadily diminished. In Speculum Mentis4, he investigated the nature and
ultimate unity of the four special ‘forms of experience’ art, religion, natural science, and
history and their relation to a fifth
comprehensive form philosophy. While all
four, he contended, are necessary to a full human life now, each is a form of
error that is corrected by its less erroneous successor. Philosophy is
error-free but has no content of its own: “The truth is not some perfect system
of philosophy: it is simply the way in which all systems, however perfect,
collapse into nothingness on the discovery that they are only systems.” Some
critics dismissed this enterprise as idealist a description Collingwood
accepted when he wrote, but even those who favored it were disturbed by the
apparent skepticism of its result. A year later, he amplified his views about
art in Outlines of a Philosophy of Art. Since much of what Collingwood went on
to write about philosophy has never been published, and some of it has been
negligently destroyed, his thought after Speculum Mentis is hard to trace. It
will not be definitively established until the more than 3,000 s of his
surviving unpublished manuscripts deposited in the Bodleian Library in 8 have
been thoroughly studied. They were not available to the scholars who published
studies of his philosophy as a whole up to 0. Three trends in how his
philosophy developed, however, are discernible. The first is that as he
continued to investigate the four special forms of experience, he came to
consider each valid in its own right, and not a form of error. As early as 8,
he abandoned the conception of the historical past in Speculum Mentis as simply
a spectacle, alien to the historian’s mind; he now proposed a theory of it as
thoughts explaining past actions that, although occurring in the past, can be
rethought in the present. Not only can the identical thought “enacted” at a
definite time in the past be “reenacted” any number of times after, but it can
be known to be so reenacted if colligation physical evidence survives that can
be shown to be incompatible with other proposed reenactments. In 334 he wrote a
series of lectures posthumously published as The Idea of Nature in which he
renounced his skepticism about whether the quantitative material world can be
known, and inquired why the three constructive periods he recognized in
European scientific thought, the Grecian, the Renaissance, and the modern,
could each advance our knowledge of it as they did. Finally, in 7, returning to
the philosophy of art and taking full account of Croce’s later work, he showed
that imagination expresses emotion and becomes false when it counterfeits
emotion that is not felt; thus he transformed his earlier theory of art as
purely imaginative. His later theories of art and of history remain alive; and
his theory of nature, although corrected by research since his death, was an
advance when published. The second trend was that his conception of philosophy
changed as his treatment of the special forms of experience became less
skeptical. In his beautifully written Essay on Philosophical Method 3, he
argued that philosophy has an object the
ens realissimum as the one, the true, and the good of which the objects of the special forms of
experience are appearances; but that implies what he had ceased to believe,
that the special forms of experience are forms of error. In his Principles of
Art 8 and New Leviathan 2 he denounced the idealist principle of Speculum
Mentis that to abstract is to falsify. Then, in his Essay on Metaphysics 0, he
denied that metaphysics is the science of being qua being, and identified it
with the investigation of the “absolute presuppositions” of the special forms
of experience at definite historical periods. A third trend, which came to
dominate his thought as World War II approached, was to see serious philosophy
as practical, and so as having political implications. He had been, like
Ruskin, a radical Tory, opposed less to liberal or even some socialist measures
than to the bourgeois ethos from which they sprang. Recognizing European
fascism as the barbarism it was, and detesting anti-Semitism, he advocated an
antifascist foreign policy and intervention in the civil war in support of the republic. His
last major publication, The New Leviathan, impressively defends what he called
civilization against what he called barbarism; and although it was neglected by
political theorists after the war was won, the collapse of Communism and the
rise of Islamic states are winning it new readers. Grice: “Collingwood thought of language importantly enough
to dedicate a full seminar at Oxford to it. He entitled it “Language.” The
first section is on “symbol and expression.” Language comes into existence with
imagination, as a feature of experience at the conscious level. . . ‘. . . It
is an imaginative activity whose function is to express emotion. Intel- lectual
language is this same thing intellectualized, or modified so as to express thought.’
A symbol is established by agreement; but this agreement is established in a
language that already exists. In this way, intellectualized language
‘presupposes imaginative language or language proper. . . in the traditional
theory of language these relations are reversed, with disastrous results.’ Children
do not learn to speak by being shown things while their names are uttered; or
if they do, it is because (unlike, say, cats) they already understand the
language of pointing and naming. The child may be accustomed to hearing ‘Hatty
off!’ when its bonnet is removed; then the child may exclaim ‘Hattiaw!’ when it
removes its own bonnet and throws it out of the perambulator. The exclamation
is not a symbol, but an expression of satisfaction at removing the bonnet. The
second section is on “Psychical Expression.” More primitive than linguistic
expression is psychical expression: ‘the doing of involuntary and perhaps even
wholly unconscious bodily acts [such as grimac- ing], related in a peculiar way
to the emotions [such as pain] they are said to express.’ A single experience
can be analyzed: -- sensum (as an abdominal gripe), or the field of sensation
containing this; ) the emotional charge on the sensum (as visceral pain); -- the
psychical expression (as the grimace). We can observe and interpret psychical
expressions intellectually. But there is the possibility of emotional
contagion, or sympathy, whereby expressions can also be sensa for others, with
their own emotional charges. Examples are the spread of panic through a crowd,
or a dog’s urge to attack the person who is afraid of it (or the cat that runs
from it). Psychical emotions can be expressed only psychically. But there are
emotions of consciousness (as hatred, love, anger, shame): these are the
emotional charges, not on sensa, but on modes of consciousness, which can be
expressed in language or psychically. Expressed psychically, they have the same
analysis as psychical emotions; for example, -- ‘consciousness of our own inferiority, )
‘shame -- ) ‘blushing.’ Shame is not the emotional charge on the sensa
associated with blushing. ‘The common-sense view [that we blush because we are
ashamed] is right, and the James–Lange theory is wrong.’ Emotions of
consciousness can be expressed in two different ways because, more generally, a
‘higher level [of experience] differs from the lower in having a new principle
of organization; this does not supersede the old, it is superimposed on it. The
lower type of experience is perpetuated in the higher type’ somewhat as matter
is perpetuated, even with a new form. ‘A mode of consciousness like shame is
thus, formally, a mode of consciousness and nothing else; materially, it is a
constellation or synthesis of psychical expe- riences.’ But consciousness is
‘an activity by which those elements are combined in this particular way.’ It
is not just a new arrangement of those elements— otherwise the sensa of which
shame is the emotional charge would have been obvious, and the James–Lange
theory would not have needed to arise. ‘[E]ach new level [of experience] must
organize itself according to its own principles before a transition can be made
to the next’. Therefore, to move beyond consciousness to intellect, ‘emotions
of consciousness must be formally or linguistically expressed, not only
materially or psychically expressed’. The third section is on “Imaginative
Expression.” Psychical expression is uncontrollable. At the level of awareness,
expressions are experienced ‘as activities belonging to ourselves and controlled
in the same sense as the emotions they express. ‘Bodily actions expressing
certain emotions, insofar as they come under our control and are conceived by
us in our awareness of controlling them, as our way of expressing these
emotions, are language.’ ‘[A]ny theory of language must begin here.’ The
controlled act of expression is materially the same as psychical expression;
the difference is just that it is done ‘on purpose’. ‘[T]he conversion of
impression into idea by the work of consciousness im- mensely multiplies the
emotions that demand expression.’ ‘There are no unexpressed emotions.’ What are
so called are emotions, already expressed at one level, of which somebody is
trying to become conscious. 5From Wikipedia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James-Lange_theory, The theory states that within human beings, as a
response to experiences in the world, the autonomic nervous system creates
physiological events such as muscular tension, a rise in heart rate,
perspiration, and dryness of the mouth. Emotions, then, are feelings which come
about as a result of these physiological changes, rather than being their
cause. Corresponding to the series of sensum, emotional charge, psychical
expression (as in red color, fear, start), we have, say, -- ) bonnet removal,
) feeling of triumph, -- cry of ‘Hattiaw!’ The child imitates the speech of
others only when it realizes that they are speaking. The fourth section is on “Language
and Languages.” Language need not be spoken by the tongue. ‘[T]here is no way
of expressing the same feeling in two different media.’ However, ‘each one of
us, whenever he expresses himself, is doing so with his whole body’, in the
‘original language of total bodily gesture’—this is the ‘motor side’ of the
‘total imaginative experience’ identified as art proper in Book I. The sixth
section is on “Speaker and Hearer.” A child’s first utterances are not
addressed to anybody. But a speaker is always -- ness does not begin as a mere
self-consciousness. . . the consciousness of our own existence is also
consciousness of the existence of’ other persons. These persons could be cats
or trees or shadows: as a form of thought, consciousness can make mistakes [§
.]. In speaking, we do not exactly communicate an emotion to a listener. To
do this would be to cause the listener to have a similar emotion; but to
compare the emotions, we would need language. The single experience of
expressing emotion has two parts: the emotion, and the controlled bodily action
expressing it. This union of idea with expression can be considered from two
points of view: -- ) we can express what we feel only because we know it; -- )
we know what we feel because we can express it. ‘The person to whom speech is
addressed is already familiar with this double situation’. He ‘takes what he
hears exactly as if it were speech of his own. . . and this constructs in
himself the idea which those words express.’ But he attributes the idea to the
speaker. This does not presuppose community of language; it is community of
language. If the hearer is to understand the speaker though, he must have
enough expe- rience to have the impressions from which the ideas of the speaker
are derived. (Collingwood’s footnote to the section title is ‘In this section,
whatever is said of speech is meant of language in general.’) conscious of
himself as speaking, so he is a also a listener. The origin of
self-consciousness will not be discussed. However, ‘Conscious- However,
misunderstanding may be the fault of the speaker, if his consciousness is
corrupt. The seventh section is on Language and Thought: Language is an
activity of thought; but if thought is taken in the narrower sense of
intellect, then language expresses not thought, but emotions. However, these
may be the emotions of a thinker. ‘Everything which imagination presents to
itself is a here, a now’. This might be the song of a thrush in May. One may
imagine, alongside this, the January song of the thrush; but at the level of
imagination, the two songs coalesce into one. By thinking, one may analyze the
song into parts—notes; or one may relate it to things not imagined, such as the
January thrush song that one remembers having heard four months ago at dawn
(though one may not remember the song -- to express any kind of thought (again,
in the narrower sense), language must be adapted. The eighth section is on “The
Grammatical Analysis of Language.” This adaptation of language to the
expression of thought is the function or business of the grammarian. ‘I do not
call it purpose, because he does not propose it to himself as a conscious aim’.
The grammarian analyzes, not the activity of language, but ‘speech’ or
‘discourse’, the supposed product of speech. But this product ‘is a
metaphysical fiction. It is supposed to exist only because the theory of
language is approached from the standpoint of the philosophy of craft. . . what
the grammarian is really doing is to think, not about a product of the activity
of speaking, but about the activity itself, distorted in his thoughts about it
by the assumption that it is not an activity, but a product or “thing”. ‘Next,
this “thing” must be scientifically studied; and this involves a double
process. The first stage of this process is to cut the “thing” up into parts.
Some readers will object to this phrase on the ground that I have used a verb
of acting when I ought to have used a verb of thinking. . . [but] philosophical
controversies are not to be settled by a sort of police-regulation governing
people’s choice of words. . . I meant cut. . àBird songs are wonderful to hear;
but I am not sufficiently familiar with them, or I live in the wrong place, to
be able to recognize seasonal variations in them. Looking for my own examples,
I can remember that, last summer, I became drenched in sweat from walking at
midday in the hills above the Aegean coast, before giving a mathematics
lecture; but I need not remember the feeling of the heat.) itself ). Analyzing
and relating are not the only kinds of thought. The point is that. -- ‘The
final process is to devise a scheme of relations between the parts thus
divided. . . a) ‘Lexicography. Every word, as it actually occurs in discourse,
occurs once and once only. . . Thus we get a new fiction: the recurring word’.
‘Meanings’ of words are established in words, so we get another fiction:
synonymity. b) Accidence. The rules whereby a single word is modified into
dominus, domine, dominum are also ‘palpable fictions; for it is notorious that
excep- tions to them occur’. c) Syntax. ‘A grammarian is not a kind of
scientist studying the actual structure of lan- guage; he is a kind of butcher’.
Idioms are another example of how language resists the grammarian’s efforts.
The ninth section is on The Logical Analysis of Language. Logical technique
aims ‘to make language into a perfect vehicle for the expression of thought.’
It asssumes ‘that the grammatical transformation of language has been
successfully accomplished.’ It makes three further assumptions:) the
propositional assumption that some ‘sentences’ make statements; ) the
principle of homolingual translation whereby one sentence can mean exactly the
same as another (or group of others) in the same language;) logical
preferability: one sentence may be preferred to another that has the same
meaning. The criterion is not ease of understanding (this is the stylist’s
concern), but ease of manipulation by the logician’s technique to suit his
aims. The logician’s modification of language can to some extent be carried
out; but it tries to pull language apart into two things: language proper, and
symbolism. ‘No serious writer or speaker ever utters a thought unless he thinks
it worth uttering...Nor does he ever utter it except with a choice of words,
and in a tone of voice, that express his sense of this importance.’ The problem
is that written words do not show tone of voice. One is tempted to believe that
scientific discourse is what is written; what is spoken is this and something
else, emotional expression. Good logic would show that the logical structure of
a proposition is not clear from its written form. Good literature is written so
(8Collingwood imaginatively describes Dr. Richards, who writes of Tolstoy’s
view of art, ‘This is plainly untrue’, as if he were a cat shaking a drop of
water from its paw. Dr. Richards is Ivor Armstrong Richards, to whose
Principles of Literary Criticism Collingwood refers; ac- cording to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/I._A._Richards (accessed December , ), ‘Richards is regularly
considered one of the founders of the contemporary study of literature in
English’.) (In a footnote, Collingwood mentions an example of Cook Wilson:
‘That building is the Bodleian’ could mean ‘That building is the Bodleian’ or
‘That building is the Bodleian.’ that the reader cannot help but read it with
the right tempo and tone. The proposition, as a form of words expressing
thought and not emotion, is a fictitious entity. But ‘a second and more
difficult thesis’ is that words do not express thought at all directly; they
express the emotional charge on a thought, allowing the hearer to rediscover
the thought ‘whose peculiar emotional tone the speaker has expressed.’The
tenth section is on “Language and Symbolism.” Symbols and technical terms are
invented for unemotional scientific purposes, but they always acquire emotional
expressiveness. ‘Every mathematician knows this.’ Intellectualized language, •
as language, expresses emotion, • as symbolism, has meaning; it points beyond
emotion to a thought. ‘The progressive intellectualization of language, its
progressive conversion by the work of grammar and logic into a scientific
symbolism, thus represents not a progressive drying-up of emotion, but its
progressive articulation and specializa- tion. We are
not getting away from an emotional atmosphere into a dry, rational atmosphere;
we are acquiring new emotions and new means of expressing them.’ Grice:
“Collingwood improves on Croce – for one, he makes Croce understandable at
Oxford. Collingwood wants to distinguish between emotion and expression of
emotion. He also speaks of communication of emotion. The keyword is
‘expression.’ Collingwood distinguishes between uncontrolled manifestation and
controlled manifestation. It is the latter that he dignifies with the term
‘expression.’ He makes an interesting point about the recipient. The recipient
must be in some degree of familiarty with the emotion expressed by the utterer
that the utterer is ‘communicating.’ To communicate is not really like
‘transfer.’ It is not THE SAME EMOTION that gets transferred. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Collingwood,” in
“Metaphysics,” in D. F. Pears, The nature of metaphysics. Luigi Speranza, “A
commentary on the language and conversation section of Collingwood’s “The idea
of language.”
colonna
–
e. giles di roma, Rome, original name, a member of the order of the Hermits of
St. Augustine, he studied arts at Augustinian house and theology at the varsity
in Paris but was censured by the theology faculty and denied a license to teach
as tutor. Owing to the intervention of Pope Honorius IV, he later returned from
Italy to Paris to teach theology, was appointed general of his order, and
became archbishop of Bourges. Colonna both defends and criticizes views of
Aquinas. He held that essence and existence are really distinct in creatures,
but described them as “things”; that prime matter cannot exist without some
substantial form; and, early in his career, that an eternally created world is
possible. He defended only one substantial form in composites, including man.
Grice adds: “Colonna supported Pope Boniface VIII in his quarrel with Philip IV
of France – and that was a bad choice.”
commitment: Grice’s commitment to the 39 Articles. An utterer is committed to those and only those
entities to which the bound variables of his utterance must be capable of referring
in order that the utterance made be true.” Cf. Grice on substitutional
quantification for his feeling Byzantine, and ‘gap’ sign in the analysis.
common-ground status assignment: While Grice was invited to a symposium on ‘mutual
knowledge,’ he never was for ‘regressive accounts’ of ‘know,’ perhaps because
he had to be different, and the idea of the mutual or common knowledge was the
obvious way to deal with his account of communication. He rejects it and opts
for an anti-sneak clause. In the common-ground he uses the phrase, “What the
eye no longer sees, the heart no longer grieves for.” What does he mean? He
means that in the case of some recognizable divergence between the function of
a communication device in a rational calculus and in the vernacular, one may
have to assign ‘common ground status’ to certain features, e. g. [The king of
France is] bald. By using the square brackets, or subscripts, in “Vacuous names
and descriptions,” the material within their scope is ‘immune’ to refutation.
It has some sort of conversational ‘inertia.’ So the divergence, for which
Grice’s heart grieved, is no more to be seen by Grice’s eye. Strwson and
Wiggins view that this is only tentative for Grice. the regulations for
common-ground assignment have to do with general rational constraints on
conversation. Grice is clear in “Causal,” and as Strawson lets us know, he was
already clear in “Introduction” when talking of a ‘pragmatic rule.’ Strawson
states the rule in terms of making your conversational contribution the logically
strongest possible. If we abide by an
imperative of conversational helpfulness, enjoining the maximally giving and
receiving of information and the influencing and being influenced by others in
the institution of a decisions, the sub-imperative follows to the effect, ‘Thou
shalt NOT make a weak move compared to the stronger one that thou canst
truthfully make, and with equal or greater economy of means.’“Causal” provides a more difficult version, because it
deals with non-extensional contexts where ‘strong’ need not be interpreted as
‘logical strength’ in terms of entailment. Common ground status assignment
springs from the principle of conversational helpfulness or conversational
benevolence. What would be the benevolent point of ‘informing’ your addressee
what you KNOW your addressee already knows? It is not even CONCEPTUALLY
possible. You are not ‘informing’ him if you are aware that he knows it. So,
what Strawson later calls the principle of presumption of ignorance and the
principle of the presumption of knowledge are relevant. There is a balance
between the two. If Strawson asks Grice, “Is the king of France bald?” Grice is
entitled to assume that Strawson thinks two things Grice will perceive as
having been assigned a ‘common-ground’ status as uncontroversial topic not
worth conversing about. First, Strawson thinks that there is one king. (∃x)Fx. Second, Strawson thinks that there is
at most one king. (x)(y)((Fx.Fy)⊃ x=y). That the king is bald is NOT assigned common-ground
status, because Grice cannot expect that Strawson thinks that Grice KNOWS that.
Grice symbolises the common-ground status by means of subscripts. He also uses
square-bracekts, so that anything within the scope of the square brackets is
immune to controversy, or as Grice also puts it, conversationally _inert_:
things we don’t talk about.
communication device: Grice: “I shall frequently speak of a ‘device,’ because its etymology
is fascinating.” divisare,
frequentative of Latin dividere –
Grice: “So, ultimately, it’s a Platonic notion, since he was into division. The
Romans did not quite need a frequentative for ‘dividere,’ but the Italians did,
and this was passed to the Gallics, and then to the Brits.”Grice always has ‘or
communication devices’ at the tip of his tongue. “Language or communication
devices” (WoW: 284). A device is produced. A device can be misunderstood.
communicatum: With the linguistic turn, as Grice notes, it was all
about ‘language.’ But at Oxford they took a cavalier attitude to language, that
Grice felt like slightly rectifying, while keeping it cavalier as we like it at
Oxford. The colloquialism of ‘mean’ does not translate well in the Graeco-Roman
tradition Grice was educated via his Lit. Hum. (Philos.) and at Clifton.
‘Communicate’ might do. On top, Grice does use ‘communicate’ on various
occasions in WoW. By psi-transmission,
something that belonged in the emissor becomes ‘common property,’ ‘communion’
has been achived. Now the recipient KNOWS that it is raining (shares the belief
with the emissor) and IS GOING to bring that umbrella (has formed a desire). “Communication”
is cognate with ‘communion,’ while conversation is cognate with ‘sex’! When
Grice hightlights the ‘common ground’ in ‘communication’ he is being slightly
rhetorical, so it is good when he weakens the claim from ‘common ground’ to
‘non-trivial.’ A: I’m going to the concert. My uncle’s brother went to that
concert. The emissor cannot presume that his addressee KNEW that he had an
unlce let alone that his uncle had a brother (the emissor’s father). But any
expansion would trigger the wrong implicaturum. One who likes ‘communication’
is refined Strawson (I’m using refined as J. Barnes does it, “turn Plato into
refined Strawson”). Both in his rat-infested example and at the inaugural
lecture at Oxford. Grice, for one, has given us reason to think that, with
sufficient care, and far greater refinement than I have indicated, it is
possible to expound such a concept of communication-intention or, as he calls
it, utterer's meaning, which is proof against objection. it is a commonplace that Grice belongs, as
most philosophers of the twentieth century, to the movement of the linguistic
turn. Short and Lewis have “commūnĭcare,” earlier “conmunicare,” f. communis,
and thus sharing the prefix with “conversare.” Now “communis” is an interesting
lexeme that Grice uses quite centrally in his idea of the ‘common ground’ –
when a feature of discourse is deemed to have been assigned ‘common-ground
status.’ “Communis” features the “cum-” prefix, commūnis (comoinis); f. “con” and
root “mu-,” to bind; Sanscr. mav-; cf.: immunis, munus, moenia. The
‘communicatum’ (as used by Tammelo in
social philosophy) may well cover what Grice would call the total
‘significatio,’ or ‘significatum.’ Grice takes this seriously. Let us start
then by examining what we mean by ‘linguistic,’ or ‘communication.’ It is
curious that while most Griceians overuse ‘communicative’ as applied to
‘intention,’ Grice does not. Communicator’s intention, at most. This is the
Peirce in Grice’s soul. Meaning provides an excellent springboard for Grice to
centre his analysis on psychological or soul-y verbs as involving the agent and
the first person: smoke only figuratively means fire, and the expression smoke
only figuratively (or metabolically) means that there is fire. It is this or
that utterer (say, Grice) who means, say, by uttering Where theres smoke theres
fire, or ubi fumus, ibi ignis, that where theres smoke theres fire. A
means something by uttering x, an utterance-token is roughly equivalent to
utterer U intends the utterance of x to produce some effect in his addressee A
by means of the recognition of this intention; and we may add that to ask what
U means is to ask for a specification of the intended effect - though, of
course, it may not always be possible to get a straight answer involving a
that-clause, for example, a belief that
He does provide a more specific example involving the that-clause at a
later stage. By uttering x, U means that-ψb-dp ≡ (Ǝφ)(Ǝf)(Ǝc) U
utters x intending x to be such that anyone who
has φ think that x has f, f is correlated in way c
with ψ-ing that p, and (Ǝφ') U intends x to be such
that anyone who has φ' think, via thinking that x has
f and that f is correlated in way c with ψ-ing that p, that U ψ-s that
p, and in view of (Ǝφ') U intending x to be such
that anyone who has φ' think, via thinking that x has
f, and f is correlated in way c with ψ-ing that p, that U ψ-s that
p, U ψ-s that p, and, for some
substituends of ψb-d, U utters x
intending that, should there actually be anyone who
has φ, he will, via thinking in view of (Ǝφ') U
intending x to be such that anyone who has φ' think, via
thinking that x has f, and f is correlated in way c
with ψ-ing that p, that U ψ-s that p, U ψ-s that
p himself ψ that p, and it is not
the case that, for some inference element E, U intends x to be such
that anyone who has φ both rely on E in coming to ψ, or think that U ψ-s, that p and think that (Ǝφ) U intends x to be
such that anyone who has φ come to ψ (or think that U ψ-s) that
p without relying on E. Besides St. John The Baptist, and Salome, Grice
cites few Namess in Meaning. But he makes a point about Stevenson! For
Stevenson, smoke means fire. Meaning develops out of an interest by Grice on
the philosophy of Peirce. In his essays on Peirce, Grice quotes from many other
authors, including, besides Peirce himself (!), Ogden, Richards, and Ewing, or
A. C. Virtue is not a fire-shovel Ewing, as Grice calls him, and this or that
cricketer. In the characteristic Oxonian fashion of a Lit. Hum., Grice has no
intention to submit Meaning to publication. Publishing is vulgar. Bennett,
however, guesses that Grice decides to publish it just a year after his Defence
of a dogma. Bennett’s argument is that Defence of a dogma pre-supposes some
notion of meaning. However, a different story may be told, not necessarily
contradicting Bennetts. It is Strawson who submits the essay by Grice to The
Philosophical Review (henceforth, PR) Strawson attends Grices talk on Meaning
for The Oxford Philosophical Society, and likes it. Since In defence of a dogma
was co-written with Strawson, the intention Bennett ascribes to Grice is
Strawsons. Oddly, Strawson later provides a famous alleged counter-example to
Grice on meaning in Intention and convention in speech acts, following J. O.
Urmson’s earlier attack to the sufficiency of Grices analysans -- which has
Grice dedicating a full James lecture (No. 5) to it. there is Strawsons
rat-infested house for which it is insufficient. An interesting fact,
that confused a few, is that Hart quotes from Grices Meaning in his critical
review of Holloway for The Philosophical Quarterly. Hart quotes Grice
pre-dating the publication of Meaning. Harts point is that Holloway should have
gone to Oxford! In Meaning, Grice may be seen as a practitioner of
ordinary-language philosophy: witness his explorations of the factivity (alla
know, remember, or see) or lack thereof of various uses of to mean. The second
part of the essay, for which he became philosophically especially popular,
takes up an intention-based approach to semantic notions. The only authority
Grice cites, in typical Oxonian fashion, is, via Ogden and Barnes, Stevenson,
who, from The New World (and via Yale, too!) defends an emotivist theory of
ethics, and making a few remarks on how to mean is used, with scare quotes, in
something like a causal account (Smoke means fire.). After its publication
Grices account received almost as many alleged counterexamples as
rule-utilitarianism (Harrison), but mostly outside Oxford, and in The New
World. New-World philosophers seem to have seen Grices attempt as reductionist
and as oversimplifying. At Oxford, the sort of counterexample Grice received,
before Strawson, was of the Urmson-type: refined, and subtle. I think your
account leaves bribery behind. On the other hand, in the New World ‒ in what
Grice calls the Latter-Day School of Nominalism, Quine is having troubles with
empiricism. Meaning was repr. in various collections, notably in Philosophical
Logic, ed. by Strawson. It should be remembered that it is Strawson who has the
thing typed and submitted for publication. Why Meaning should be repr. in a
collection on Philosophical Logic only Strawson knows. But Grice does say that
his account may help clarify the meaning of entails! It may be Strawsons implicaturum
that Parkinson should have repr. (and not merely credited) Meaning by Grice in
his series for Oxford on The theory of meaning. The preferred quotation for Griceians
is of course The Oxford Philosophical Society quote, seeing that Grice recalled
the exact year when he gave the talk for the Philosophical Society at Oxford!
It is however, the publication in The Philosophi, rather than the quieter
evening at the Oxford Philosophical Society, that occasioned a tirade of
alleged counter-examples by New-World philosophers. Granted, one or two
Oxonians ‒ Urmson and Strawson ‒ fell in! Urmson criticises the sufficiency of
Grices account, by introducing an alleged counter-example involving bribery.
Grice will consider a way out of Urmsons alleged counter-example in his fifth
Wiliam James Lecture, rightly crediting and thanking Urmson for this! Strawsons
alleged counter-example was perhaps slightly more serious, if regressive. It
also involves the sufficiency of Grices analysis. Strawsons rat-infested house
alleged counter-example started a chain which required Grice to avoid,
ultimately, any sneaky intention by way of a recursive clause to the effect
that, for utterer U to have meant that p, all meaning-constitutive intentions
should be above board. But why this obsession by Grice with mean? He is being
funny. Spots surely dont mean, only mean.They dont have a mind. Yet Grice opens
with a specific sample. Those spots mean, to the doctor, that you, dear, have
measles. Mean? Yes, dear, mean, doctors orders. Those spots mean measles. But
how does the doctor know? Cannot he be in the wrong? Not really, mean is
factive, dear! Or so Peirce thought. Grice is amazed that Peirce thought that
some meaning is factive. The hole in this piece of cloth means that a bullet
went through is is one of Peirce’s examples. Surely, as Grice notes, this is an
unhappy example. The hole in the cloth may well have caused by something else,
or fabricated. (Or the postmark means that the letter went through the post.)
Yet, Grice was having Oxonian tutees aware that Peirce was krypto-technical.
Grice chose for one of his pre-Meaning seminars on Peirce’s general theory of
signs, with emphasis on general, and the correspondence of Peirce and Welby.
Peirce, rather than the Vienna circle, becomes, in vein with Grices dissenting
irreverent rationalism, important as a source for Grices attempt to English
Peirce. Grices implicaturum seems to be that Peirce, rather than Ayer, cared
for the subtleties of meaning and sign, never mind a verificationist theory
about them! Peirce ultra-Latinate-cum-Greek taxonomies have Grice very nervous,
though. He knew that his students were proficient in the classics, but still. Grice
thus proposes to reduce all of Peirceian divisions and sub-divisions (one
sub-division too many) to mean. In the proceedings, he quotes from Ogden,
Richards, and Ewing. In particular, Grice was fascinated by the correspondence of
Peirce with Lady Viola Welby, as repr. by Ogden/Richards in, well, their study
on the meaning of meaning. Grice thought the science of symbolism pretentious,
but then he almost thought Lady Viola Welby slightly pretentious, too, if youve
seen her; beautiful lady. It is via Peirce that Grice explores examples such as
those spots meaning measles. Peirce’s obsession is with weathercocks almost as
Ockham was with circles on wine-barrels. Old-World Grices use of New-World
Peirce is illustrative, thus, of the Oxonian linguistic turn focused on
ordinary language. While Peirce’s background was not philosophical, Grice
thought it comical enough. He would say that Peirce is an amateur, but then he
said the same thing about Mill, whom Grice had to study by heart to get his B.
A. Lit. Hum.! Plus, as Watson commented, what is wrong with amateur? Give me an
amateur philosopher ANY day, if I have to choose from professional Hegel! In
finding Peirce krypo-technical, Grice is ensuing that his tutees, and indeed
any Oxonian philosophy student (he was university lecturer) be aware that to
mean should be more of a priority than this or that jargon by this or that (New
World?) philosopher!? Partly! Grice wanted his students to think on their own,
and draw their own conclusions! Grice cites Ewing, Ogden/Richards, and many
others. Ewing, while Oxford-educated, had ended up at Cambridge (Scruton almost
had him as his tutor) and written some points on Meaninglessness! Those spots
mean measles. Grice finds Peirce krypto-technical and proposes to English him
into an ordinary-language philosopher. Surely it is not important whether we
consider a measles spot a sign, a symbol, or an icon. One might just as well
find a doctor in London who thinks those spots symbolic. If Grice feels like
Englishing Peirce, he does not altogether fail! meaning, reprints, of
Meaning and other essays, a collection of reprints and offprints of Grices
essays. Meaning becomes a central topic of at least two strands in
Retrospective epilogue. The first strand concerns the idea of the centrality of
the utterer. What Grice there calls meaning BY (versus meaning TO), i.e. as he
also puts it, active or agents meaning. Surely he is right in defending an
agent-based account to meaning. Peirce need not, but Grice must, because he is
working with an English root, mean, that is only figurative applicable to
non-agentive items (Smoke means rain). On top, Grice wants to conclude that
only a rational creature (a person) can meanNN properly. Non-human animals may
have a correlate. This is a truly important point for Grice since he surely is
seen as promoting a NON-convention-based approach to meaning, and also
defending from the charge of circularity in the non-semantic account of
propositional attitudes. His final picture is a rationalist one. P1 G
wants to communicate about a danger to P2. This presupposes there IS
a danger (item of reality). Then P1 G believes there is a
danger, and communicates to P2 G2 that there is a danger. This
simple view of conversation as rational co-operation underlies Grices account
of meaning too, now seen as an offshoot of philosophical psychology, and indeed
biology, as he puts it. Meaning as yet another survival mechanism. While he
would never use a cognate like significance in his Oxford Philosophical Society
talk, Grice eventually starts to use such Latinate cognates at a later stage of
his development. In Meaning, Grice does not explain his goal. By sticking with
a root that the Oxford curriculum did not necessarily recognised as
philosophical (amateur Peirce did!), Grice is implicating that he is starting
an ordinary-language botanising on his own repertoire! Grice was amused by the
reliance by Ewing on very Oxonian examples contra Ayer: Surely Virtue aint a
fire-shovel is perfectly meaningful, and if fact true, if, Ill admit, somewhat
misleading and practically purposeless at Cambridge. Again, the dismissal by
Grice of natural meaning is due to the fact that natural meaning prohibits its
use in the first person and followed by a that-clause. ‘I mean-n that p’ sounds
absurd, no communication-function seems in the offing, there is no ‘sign for,’
as Woozley would have it. Grice found, with Suppes, all types of primacy
(ontological, axiological, psychological) in utterers meaning. In Retrospective
epilogue, he goes back to the topic, as he reminisces that it is his
suggestion that there are two allegedly distinguishable meaning concepts, even
if one is meta-bolical, which may be called natural meaning and non-natural
meaning. There is this or that test (notably factivity-entailment vs.
cancelation, but also scare quotes) which may be brought to bear to distinguish
one concept from the other. We may, for example, inquire whether a particular
occurrence of the predicate mean is factive or non-factive, i. e., whether for
it to be true that [so and so] means that p, it does or does not have to be the
case that it is true that p. Again, one may ask whether the use of quotation
marks to enclose the specification of what is meant would be inappropriate or
appropriate. If factivity, as in know, remember, and see, is present and
quotation marks, oratio recta, are be inappropriate, we have a case of natural
meaning. Otherwise the meaning involved is non-natural meaning. We may now ask
whether there is a single overarching idea which lies behind both members of
this dichotomy of uses to which the predicate meaning that seems to be
Subjects. If there is such a central idea it might help to indicate to us which
of the two concepts is in greater need of further analysis and elucidation and
in what direction such elucidation should proceed. Grice confesses that he has
only fairly recently come to believe that there is such an overarching idea and
that it is indeed of some service in the proposed inquiry. The idea behind both
uses of mean is that of consequence, or consequentia, as Hobbes has it. If x
means that p, something which includes p or the idea of p, is a consequence of
x. In the metabolic natural use of meaning that p, p, this or that consequence,
is this or that state of affairs. In the literal, non-metabolic, basic,
non-natural use of meaning that p, (as in Smith means that his neighbour’s
three-year child is an adult), p, this or that consequence is this or that
conception or complexus which involves some other conception. This perhaps
suggests that of the two concepts it is, as it should, non-natural meaning
which is more in need of further elucidation. It seems to be the more
specialised of the pair, and it also seems to be the less determinate. We may,
e. g., ask how this or that conception enters the picture. Or we may ask
whether what enters the picture is the conception itself or its justifiability.
On these counts Grice should look favorably on the idea that, if further
analysis should be required for one of the pair, the notion of non-natural
meaning would be first in line. There are factors which support the suitability
of further analysis for the concept of non-natural meaning. MeaningNN that
p (non-natural meaning) does not look as if it Namess an original feature of
items in the world, for two reasons which are possibly not mutually
independent. One reason is that, given suitable background conditions, meaning,
can be changed by fiat. The second reason is that the presence of meaningNN is
dependent on a framework provided by communication, if that is not too
circular. Communication is in the philosophical lexicon. Lewis and
Short have “commūnĭcātĭo,” f. communicare,"(several times in Cicero,
elsewhere rare), and as they did with negatio and they will with significatio,
Short and Lewis render, unhelpfully, as a making common, imparting,
communicating. largitio et communicatio civitatis;” “quaedam societas et
communicatio utilitatum,” “consilii communicatio, “communicatio sermonis,” criminis
cum pluribus; “communicatio nominum, i. e. the like appellation of several objects;
“juris; “damni; In rhetorics, communicatio, trading on the communis, a figure,
translating Grecian ἀνακοίνωσις, in accordance with which the utterer turns to
his addressee, and, as it were, allows him to take part in the inquiry. It
seems to Grice, then, at least reasonable and possibly even emphatically
mandatory, to treat the claim that a communication vehicle, such as this and
that expression means that p, in this transferred, metaphoric, or meta-bolic
use of means that as being reductively analysable in terms of this or that
feature of this or that utterer, communicator, or user of this or that expression.
The use of meaning that as applied to this or that expression is posterior
to and explicable through the utterer-oriented, or utterer-relativised use,
i.e. involving a reference to this or that communicator or user of this or that
expression. More specifically, one should license a metaphorical use of mean,
where one allows the claim that this or that expression means that p, provided
that this or that utterer, in this or that standard fashion, means that p, i.e.
in terms of this or that souly statee toward this or that propositional
complexus this or that utterer ntends, in a standardly fashion, to produce by
his uttering this or that utterance. That this or that expression means (in
this metaphorical use) that p is thus explicable either in terms of this
or that souly state which is standardly intended to produce in this or that
addressee A by this or that utterer of this or that expression, or in this or
that souly staken up by this or that utterer toward this or that activity or
action of this or that utterer of this or that expression. Meaning was in
the air in Oxfords linguistic turn. Everybody was talking meaning. Grice
manages to quote from Hares early “Mind” essay on the difference between
imperatives and indicatives, also Duncan-Jones on the fugitive
proposition, and of course his beloved Strawson. Grice was also concerned
by the fact that in the manoeuvre of the typical ordinary-language philosopher,
there is a constant abuse of mean. Surely Grice wants to stick with the
utterers meaning as the primary use. Expressions mean only derivatively. To do
that, he chose Peirce to see if he could clarify it with meaning that. Grice
knew that the polemic was even stronger in London, with Ogden and Lady Viola
Welby. In the more academic Oxford milieu, Grice knew that a proper examination
of meaning, would lead him, via Kneale and his researches on the history of
semantics, to the topic of signification that obsessed the modistae (and their
modus significandi). For what does L and S say about about this? This is
Grice’s reply to popular Ogden. They want to know what the meaning of meaning
is? Here is the Oxononian response by Grice, with a vengeance. Grice is not an
animist nor a mentalist, even modest. While he allows for natural
phenomena to mean (smoke means fire), meaning is best ascribed to some utterer,
where this meaning is nothing but the intentions behind his
utterance. This is the fifth James lecture. Grice was careful enough to
submit it to PR, since it is a strictly philosophical development of the views
expressed in Meaning which Strawson had submitted on Grice’s behalf to the same
Review and which had had a series of responses by various philosophers. Among
these philosophers is Strawson himself in Intention and convention in the the
theory of speech acts, also in PR. Grice quotes from very many other
philosophers in this essay, including: Urmson, Stampe,
Strawson, Schiffer, and Searle. Strawson is especially relevant since
he started a series of alleged counter-examples with his infamous example of
the rat-infested house. Grice particularly treasured Stampes alleged
counter-example involving his beloved bridge! Avramides earns a D. Phil Oxon.
on that, under Strawson! This is Grices occasion to address some of the
criticisms ‒ in the form of alleged counter-examples, typically, as his
later reflections on epagoge versus diagoge note ‒ by Urmson,
Strawson, and other philosophers associated with Oxford, such as Searle,
Stampe, and Schiffer. The final analysandum is pretty complex (of the type that
he did find his analysis of I am hearing a sound complex in Personal
identity ‒ hardly an obstacle for adopting it), it became yet
another target of attack by especially New-World philosophers in the pages of
Mind, Nous, and other journals, This is officially the fifth James lecture.
Grice takes up the analysis of meaning he had presented way back at the Oxford
Philosophical Society. Motivated mainly by the attack by Urmson and by Strawson
in Intention and convention in speech acts, that offered an alleged
counter-example to the sufficiency of Grices analysis, Grice ends up
introducing so many intention that he almost trembled. He ends up seeing
meaning as a value-paradeigmatic concept, perhaps never realisable in a
sublunary way. But it is the analysis in this particular essay where he is at
his formal best. He distinguishes between protreptic and exhibitive utterances,
and also modes of correlation (iconic, conventional). He symbolises the utterer
and the addressee, and generalises over the type of psychological state,
attitude, or stance, meaning seems to range (notably indicative vs.
imperative). He formalises the reflexive intention, and more importantly, the
overtness of communication in terms of a self-referential recursive intention
that disallows any sneaky intention to be brought into the picture of
meaning-constitutive intentions. Grice thought he had dealt with Logic and
conversation enough! So he feels of revising his Meaning. After all, Strawson
had had the cheek to publish Meaning by Grice and then go on to criticize it in
Intention and convention in speech acts. So this is Grices revenge, and he
wins! He ends with the most elaborate theory of mean that an Oxonian could ever
hope for. And to provoke the informalists such as Strawson (and his disciples
at Oxford – led by Strawson) he pours existential quantifiers like the plague!
He manages to quote from Urmson, whom he loved! No word on Peirce, though, who
had originated all this! His implicaturum: Im not going to be reprimanted in
informal discussion about my misreading Peirce at Harvard! The concluding note
is about artificial substitutes for iconic representation, and meaning as a
human institution. Very grand. This is Grices metabolical projection of
utterers meaning to apply to anything OTHER than utterers meaning, notably a
token of the utterers expression and a TYPE of the utterers expression, wholly
or in part. Its not like he WANTS to do it, he NEEDS it to give an account of implicaturum.
The phrase utterer is meant to provoke. Grice thinks that speaker is too
narrow. Surely you can mean by just uttering stuff! This is the sixth James
lecture, as published in “Foundations of Language” (henceforth, “FL”), or “The
foundations of language,” as he preferred. As it happens, it became a popular
lecture, seeing that Searle selected this from the whole set for his Oxford
reading in philosophy on the philosophy of language. It is also the essay cited
by Chomsky in his influential Locke lectures. Chomsky takes Grice to be a
behaviourist, even along Skinners lines, which provoked a reply by Suppes, repr.
in PGRICE. In The New World, the H. P. is often given in a more simplified
form. Grice wants to keep on playing. In Meaning, he had said x means that p is
surely reducible to utterer U means that p. In this lecture, he lectures us as
to how to proceed. In so doing he invents this or that procedure: some basic,
some resultant. When Chomsky reads the reprint in Searles Philosophy of
Language, he cries: Behaviourist! Skinnerian! It was Suppes who comes to Grices
defence. Surely the way Grice uses expressions like resultant procedure are
never meant in the strict behaviourist way. Suppes concludes that it is much
fairer to characterise Grice as an intentionalist. Published in FL, ed. by
Staal, Repr.in Searle, The Philosophy of Language, Oxford, the sixth James
Lecture, FL, resultant procedure, basic procedure. Staal asked Grice to
publish the sixth James lecture for a newish periodical publication of whose
editorial board he was a member. The fun thing is Grice complied! This is
Grices shaggy-dog story. He does not seem too concerned about resultant
procedures. As he will ll later say, surely I can create Deutero-Esperanto and
become its master! For Grice, the primacy is the idiosyncratic, particularized
utterer in this or that occasion. He knows a philosopher craves for generality,
so he provokes the generality-searcher with divisions and sub-divisions of
mean. But his heart does not seem to be there, and he is just being
overformalistic and technical for the sake of it. I am glad that Putnam, of all
people, told me in an aside, you are being too formal, Grice. I stopped with
symbolism since! Communication. This is Grice’s clearest anti-animist attack by
Grice. He had joins Hume in mocking causing and willing: The decapitation of
Charles I as willing Charles Is death. Language semantics alla Tarski. Grice
know sees his former self. If he was obsessed, after Ayer, with mean, he now wants
to see if his explanation of it (then based on his pre-theoretic intuition) is
theoretically advisable in terms other than dealing with those pre-theoretical
facts, i.e. how he deals with a lexeme like mean. This is a bit like Grice: implicaturum,
revisited. An axiological approach to meaning. Strictly a reprint of Grice, which
should be the preferred citation. The date is given by Grice himself, and he
knew! Grice also composed some notes on Remnants on meaning, by Schiffer. This
is a bit like Grices meaning re-revisited. Schiffer had been Strawsons tutee at
Oxford as a Rhode Scholar in the completion of his D. Phil. on Meaning,
Clarendon. Eventually, Schiffer grew sceptic, and let Grice know about it!
Grice did not find Schiffers arguments totally destructive, but saw the
positive side to them. Schiffers arguments should remind any philosopher that
the issues he is dealing are profound and bound to involve much elucidation
before they are solved. This is a bit like Grice: implicaturum, revisited. Meaning
revisited (an ovious nod to Evelyn Waughs Yorkshire-set novel) is the title
Grice chose for a contribution to a symposium at Brighton organised by Smith.
Meaning revisited (although Grice has earlier drafts entitled Meaning and
philosophical psychology) comprises three sections. In the first section, Grice
is concerned with the application of his modified Occam’s razor now to the very
lexeme, mean. Cf. How many senses does sense have? Cohen: The Senses of Senses.
In the second part, Grice explores an evolutionary model of creature
construction reaching a stage of non-iconic representation. Finally, in the
third section, motivated to solve what he calls a major problem ‒ versus
the minor problem concerning the transition from the meaning by the
utterer to the meaning by the expression. Grice attempts to construct meaning
as a value-paradeigmatic notion. A version was indeed published in the
proceedings of the Brighton symposium, by Croom Helm, London. Grice has a
couple of other drafts with variants on this title: philosophical psychology
and meaning, psychology and meaning. He keeps, meaningfully, changing the order.
It is not arbitrary that the fascinating exploration by Grice is in three
parts. In the first, where he applies his Modified Occams razor to mean, he is
revisiting Stevenson. Smoke means fire and I mean love, dont need different senses
of mean. Stevenson is right when using scare quotes for smoke ‘meaning’ fire
utterance. Grice is very much aware that that, the rather obtuse terminology of
senses, was exactly the terminology he had adopted in both Meaning and the
relevant James lectures (V and VI) at Harvard! Now, its time to revisit and to
echo Graves, say, goodbye to all that! In the second part he applies Pology.
While he knows his audience is not philosophical ‒ it is not Oxford ‒ he
thinks they still may get some entertainment! We have a P feeling pain,
simulating it, and finally uttering, I am in pain. In the concluding section,
Grice becomes Plato. He sees meaning as an optimum, i.e. a value-paradeigmatic
notion introducing value in its guise of optimality. Much like Plato thought
circle works in his idiolect. Grice played with various titles, in the Grice
Collection. Theres philosophical psychology and meaning. The reason is obvious.
The lecture is strictly divided in sections, and it is only natural that Grice
kept drafts of this or that section in his collection. In WOW Grice notes that
he re-visited his Meaning re-visited at a later stage, too! And he meant it!
Surely, there is no way to understand the stages of Grice’s development of his
ideas about meaning without Peirce! It is obvious here that Grice thought that
mean two figurative or metabolical extensions of use. Smoke means fire and Smoke
means smoke. The latter is a transferred use in that impenetrability means lets
change the topic if Humpty-Dumpty m-intends that it and Alice are to change the
topic. Why did Grice feel the need to add a retrospective epilogue? He loved to
say that what the “way of words” contains is neither his first, nor his last
word. So trust him to have some intermediate words to drop. He is at his most
casual in the very last section of the epilogue. The first section is more of a
very systematic justification for any mistake the reader may identify in the
offer. The words in the epilogue are thus very guarded and qualificatory. Just
one example about our focus: conversational implicate and conversation as
rational co-operation. He goes back to Essay 2, but as he notes, this was
hardly the first word on the principle of conversational helpfulness, nor
indeed the first occasion where he actually used implicaturum. As regards
co-operation, the retrospective epilogue allows him to expand on a causal
phrasing in Essay 2, “purposive, indeed rational.” Seeing in retrospect how the
idea of rationality was the one that appealed philosophers most – since it
provides a rationale and justification for what is otherwise an arbitrary
semantic proliferation. Grice then distinguishes between the thesis that
conversation is purposive, and the thesis that conversation is rational. And,
whats more, and in excellent Griceian phrasing, there are two theses here, too.
One thing is to see conversation as rational, and another, to use his very
phrasing, as rational co-operation! Therefore, when one discusses the secondary
literature, one should be attentive to whether the author is referring to
Grices qualifications in the Retrospective epilogue. Grice is careful to date
some items. However, since he kept rewriting, one has to be careful. These
seven folder contain the material for the compilation. Grice takes the
opportunity of the compilation by Harvard of his WOW, representative of the
mid-60s, i. e. past the heyday of ordinary-language philosophy, to review the
idea of philosophical progress in terms of eight different strands which
display, however, a consistent and distinctive unity. Grice keeps playing with
valediction, valedictory, prospective and retrospective, and the different
drafts are all kept in The Grice Papers. The Retrospective epilogue, is divided
into two sections. In the first section, he provides input for his eight
strands, which cover not just meaning, and the assertion-implication
distinction to which he alludes to in the preface, but for more substantial
philosophical issues like the philosophy of perception, and the defense of
common sense realism versus the sceptial idealist. The concluding section
tackles more directly a second theme he had idenfitied in the preface, which is
a methodological one, and his long-standing defence of ordinary-language
philosophy. The section involves a fine distinction between the Athenian
dialectic and the Oxonian dialectic, and tells the tale about his fairy
godmother, G*. As he notes, Grice had dropped a few words in the preface explaining
the ordering of essays in the compilation. He mentions that he hesitated to
follow a suggestion by Bennett that the ordering of the essays be
thematic and chronological. Rather, Grice chooses to publish the whole set
of seven James lectures, what he calls the centerpiece, as part I. II, the
explorations in semantics and metaphysics, is organised more or less
thematically, though. In the Retrospective epilogue, Grice takes up this
observation in the preface that two ideas or themes underlie his Studies: that
of meaning, and assertion vs. implication, and philosophical methodology. The
Retrospective epilogue is thus an exploration on eight strands he identifies in
his own philosophy. Grices choice of strand is careful. For Grice, philosophy,
like virtue, is entire. All the strands belong to the same knit, and therefore
display some latitudinal, and, he hopes, longitudinal unity, the latter made
evidence by his drawing on the Athenian dialectic as a foreshadow of the
Oxonian dialectic to come, in the heyday of the Oxford school of analysis, when
an interest in the serious study of ordinary language had never been since and
will never be seen again. By these two types of unity, Grice means the obvious
fact that all branches of philosophy (philosophy of language, or semantics,
philosophy of perception, philosophical psychology, metaphysics, axiology,
etc.) interact and overlap, and that a historical regard for ones philosophical
predecessors is a must, especially at Oxford. Why is Grice obsessed with
asserting? He is more interested, technically, in the phrastic, or dictor.
Grice sees a unity, indeed, equi-vocality, in the buletic-doxastic continuum.
Asserting is usually associated with the doxastic. Since Grice is always ready
to generalise his points to cover the buletic (recall his Meaning, “theres by
now no reason to stick to informative cases,”), it is best to re-define his
asserting in terms of the phrastic. This is enough of a strong point. As Hare
would agree, for emotivists like Barnes, say, an utterance of buletic force may
not have any content whatsoever. For Grice, there is always a content, the
proposition which becomes true when the action is done and the desire is
fulfilled or satisfied. Grice quotes from Bennett. Importantly, Grice focuses
on the assertion/non-assertion distinction. He overlooks the fact that for this
or that of his beloved imperative utterance, asserting is out of the question,
but explicitly conveying that p is not. He needs a dummy to stand for a
psychological or souly state, stance, or attitude of either boule or doxa, to
cover the field of the utterer mode-neutrally conveying explicitly that his
addressee A is to entertain that p. The explicatum or explicitum sometimes does
the trick, but sometimes it does not. It is interesting to review the Names
index to the volume, as well as the Subjects index. This is a huge collection,
comprising 14 folders. By contract, Grice was engaged with Harvard, since it is
the President of the College that holds the copyrights for the James lectures.
The title Grice eventually chooses for his compilation of essays, which goes
far beyond the James, although keeping them as the centerpiece, is a tribute to
Locke, who, although obsessed with his idealist and empiricist new way of
ideas, leaves room for both the laymans and scientists realist way of things,
and, more to the point, for this or that philosophical semiotician to offer
this or that study in the way of words. Early in the linguistic turn minor
revolution, the expression the new way of words, had been used derogatorily.
WOW is organised in two parts: Logic and conversation and the somewhat
pretentiously titled Explorations in semantics and metaphysics, which offers
commentary around the centerpiece. It also includes a Preface and a very rich
and inspired Retrospective epilogue. From part I, the James lectures, only
three had not been previously published. The first unpublished lecture is
Prolegomena, which really sets the scene, and makes one wonder what the few
philosophers who quote from The logic of grammar could have made from the
second James lecture taken in isolation. Grice explores Aristotle’s “to
alethes”: “For the true and the false exist with respect to synthesis and
division (peri gar synthesin kai diaireisin esti to pseudos kai to alethes).”
Aristotle insists upon the com-positional form of truth in several texts: cf.
De anima, 430b3 ff.: “in truth and falsity, there is a certain composition (en
hois de kai to pseudos kai to alethes, synthesis tis)”; cf. also Met. 1027b19
ff.: the true and the false are with respect to (peri) composition and
decomposition (synthesis kai diaresis).” It also shows that Grices style is
meant for public delivery, rather than reading. The second unpublished lecture
is Indicative conditionals. This had been used by a few philosophers, such as
Gazdar, noting that there were many mistakes in the typescript, for which Grice
is not to be blamed. The third is on some models for implicaturum. Since this
Grice acknowledges is revised, a comparison with the original handwritten
version of the final James lecture retrieves a few differences From Part II, a
few essays had not been published before, but Grice, nodding to the
longitudinal unity of philosophy, is very careful and proud to date
them. Commentary on the individual essays is made under the appropriate
dates. Philosophical correspondence is quite a genre. Hare would express in a
letter to the Librarian for the Oxford Union, “Wiggins does not want to be
understood,” or in a letter to Bennett that Williams is the worse offender of
Kantianism! It was different with Grice. He did not type. And he wrote only
very occasionally! These are four folders with general correspondence, mainly
of the academic kind. At Oxford, Grice would hardly keep a correspondence, but
it was different with the New World, where academia turns towards the
bureaucracy. Grice is not precisely a good, or reliable, as The BA puts it,
correspondent. In the Oxford manner, Grice prefers a face-to-face interaction,
any day. He treasures his Saturday mornings under Austins guidance, and he
himself leads the Play Group after Austins demise, which, as Owen reminisced,
attained a kind of cult status. Oxford is different. As a tutorial fellow in
philosophy, Grice was meant to tutor his students; as a University Lecturer he
was supposed to lecture sometimes other fellowss tutees! Nothing about this
reads: publish or perish! This is just one f. containing Grices own favourite
Griceian references. To the historian of analytic philosophy, it is of
particular interest. It shows which philosophers Grice respected the most, and
which ones the least. As one might expect, even on the cold shores of Oxford,
as one of Grices tutees put it, Grice is cited by various Oxford philosophers.
Perhaps the first to cite Grice in print is his tutee Strawson, in “Logical
Theory.” Early on, Hart quotes Grice on meaning in his review in The
Philosophical Quarterly of Holloways Language and Intelligence before Meaning
had been published. Obviously, once Grice and Strawson, In defense of a dogma
and Grice, Meaning are published by The Philosophical Review, Grice is
discussed profusely. References to the implicaturum start to appear in the
literature at Oxford in the mid-1960s, within the playgroup, as in Hare and
Pears. It is particularly intriguing to explore those philosophers Grice picks
up for dialogue, too, and perhaps arrange them alphabetically, from Austin to
Warnock, say. And Griceian philosophical references, Oxonian or other, as they
should, keep counting! The way to search the Grice Papers here is using
alternate keywords, notably “meaning.” “Meaning” s. II, “Utterer’s meaning and
intentions,” s. II, “Utterer’s meaning, sentence-meaning, and word meaning,” s.
II, “Meaning revisited,” s. II. – but also “Meaning and psychology,” s. V,
c.7-ff. 24-25. While Grice uses
“signification,” and lectured on Peirce’s “signs,” “Peirce’s general theory of
signs,” (s. V, c. 8-f. 29), he would avoid such pretentiously sounding
expressions. Searching under ‘semantic’ and ‘semantics’ (“Grammar and
semantics,” c. 7-f. 5; “Language semantics,” c. 7-f.20, “Basic Pirotese,
sentence semantics and syntax,” c. 8-f. 30, “Semantics of children’s language,”
c. 9-f. 10, “Sentence semantics” (c. 9-f. 11); “Sentence semantics and
propositional complexes,” c. 9-f.12, “Syntax and semantics,” c. 9-ff. 17-18) may
help, too. Folder on Schiffer (“Schiffer,” c. 9-f. 9), too.
compactum: Grice: “One should distinguish between Grice’s
compact and the compact.” G. R. Grice, the Welsh philosopher, speaks of a
contract as a compact. Grice on the compactness theorem, a theorem for
first-order logic: if every finite subset of a given infinite theory T is
consistent, then the whole theory is consistent. The result is an immediate
consequence of the completeness theorem, for if the theory were not consistent,
a contradiction, say ‘P and not-P’, would be provable from it. But the proof,
being a finitary object, would use only finitely many axioms from T, so this
finite subset of T would be inconsistent. This proof of the compactness theorem
is very general, showing that any language that has a sound and complete system
of inference, where each rule allows only finitely many premises, satisfies the
theorem. This is important because the theorem immediately implies that many familiar
mathematical notions are not expressible in the language in question, notions
like those of a finite set or a well-ordering relation. The compactness theorem
is important for other reasons as well. It is the most frequently applied
result in the study of first-order model theory and has inspired interesting
developments within set theory and its foundations by generating a search for
infinitary languages that obey some analog of the theorem.
completum: incompletum: Grice on completeness, a property that
something typically, a set of axioms, a
logic, a theory, a set of well-formed formulas, a language, or a set of
connectives has when it is strong enough
in some desirable respect. 1 A set of axioms is complete for the logic L if
every theorem of L is provable using those axioms. 2 A logic L has weak
semantical completeness if every valid sentence of the language of L is a
theorem of L. L has strong semantical completeness or is deductively complete
if for every set G of sentences, every logical consequence of G is deducible
from G using L. A propositional logic L is Halldén-complete if whenever A 7 B
is a theorem of L, where A and B share no variables, either A or B is a theorem
of L. And L is Post-complete if L is consistent but no stronger logic for the
same language is consistent. Reference to the “completeness” of a logic,
without further qualification, is almost invariably to either weak or strong
semantical completeness. One curious exception: second-order logic is often
said to be “incomplete,” where what is meant is that it is not axiomatizable. 3
A theory T is negation-complete often simply complete if for every sentence A
of the lancommon notions completeness 162
162 guage of T, either A or its negation is provable in T. And T is
omega-complete if whenever it is provable in T that a property f / holds of
each natural number 0, 1, . . . , it is also provable that every number has f.
Generalizing on this, any set G of well-formed formulas might be called omega
complete if vA[v] is deducible from G whenever A[t] is deducible from G for all
terms t, where A[t] is the result of replacing all free occurrences of v in
A[v] by t. 4 A language L is expressively complete if each of a given class of
items is expressible in L. Usually, the class in question is the class of
twovalued truth-functions. The propositional language whose sole connectives
are - and 7 is thus said to be expressively or functionally complete, while
that built up using 7 alone is not, since classical negation is not expressible
therein. Here one might also say that the set {-,7} is expressively or
functionally complete, while {7} is not.
completum – “The idea of the
completum is transformational; i. e. that there are components in a meaningful
string – The unstructured utterance is complete – To speak of an incomplete
segment is quite a step in compositionality.” Grice: “All Roman words starting
with con- are a trick, since they mean togetherness. In this case, plere is to
fill. plĕo , ēre, v. n., I.to fill, to
fulfil, the root of plenus, q. v., compleo, expleo, suppleo: “plentur antiqui etiam sine praepositionibus dicebant,” Fest. p. 230 Müll. And then
there’s completion. Grice speaks of ‘complete’ and ‘incomplete. Consider “Fido
is shaggy.” That’s complete. “Fido” is incomplete – like pig. “is shaggy” is
incomplete. This is Grice’s Platonism, hardly the nominalism that Bennett
abuses Grice with! For the rational pirot (not the parrot) has access to a
theory of complete --. When lecturing on Peirce, Grice referred to Russell’s
excellent idea of improving on Peirce. “Don’t ask for the meaning of ‘red,’ ask
for the meaning of ‘x is red.” Cf. Plato, “Don’t try to see horseness, try to
see ‘x is a horse. Don’t be stupid.” Now “x is red” is a bit incomplete. Surely
it can be rendered by the complete, “Something, je-ne-sais-quoi, to use Hume’s
vulgarism, is red.” So, to have an act of referring without an act of
predicating is incomplete. But still useful for philosophical analysis.
complexum: Grive: “All Roman words starting with con- are a
trick, since they mean an agreement, in this case, the plexum. -- versus the
‘simplex.’ Grice starts with the simplex. All he needs is a handwave to ascribe
‘the emissor communicates that he knows the route.’ The proposition which is
being transmitted HAS to be complex: Subject, “The emissor”, copula, “is,”
‘predicate: “a knower of the route.”Grice allows for the syntactically
unstructured handwave to be ‘ambiguous’ so that the intention on the emissor’s
part involves his belief that the emissee will take this rather than that
proposition as being transmitted: Second complex: “Subject: Emissor, copula:
is, predicate: about to leave the emissee.”Vide the altogether nice girl, and
the one-at-a-time sailor. The topic is essential in seeing Grice within the
British empiricist tradition. Empiricists always loved a simplex, like ‘red.’
In his notes on ‘Meaning’ and “Peirce,’ Grice notes that for a ‘simplex’ like
“red,” the best way to deal with it is via a Russellian function, ‘x is red.’ The
opposite of ‘simplex’ is of course a ‘complexum.’ hile Grice does have an essay
on the ‘complexum,’ he is mostly being jocular. His dissection of the
proposition proceds by considering ‘the a,’ and its denotatum, or reference,
and ‘is the b,’ which involves then the predication. This is Grice’s shaggy-dog
story. Once we have ‘the dog is shaggy,’ we have a ‘complexum,’ and we can say
that the utterer means, by uttering ‘Fido is shaggy,’ that the dog is
hairy-coated. Simple, right? It’s the jocular in Grice. He is joking on
philosophers who look at those representative of the linguistic turn, and ask,
“So what do you have to say about reference and predication,’ and Grice comes
up with an extra-ordinary analysis of what is to believe that the dog is hairy-coat,
and communicating it. In fact, the ‘communicating’ is secondary. Once Grice has
gone to metabolitical extension of ‘mean’ to apply to the expression,
communication becomes secondary in that it has to be understood in what Grice
calls the ‘atenuated’ usage involving this or that ‘readiness’ to have this or
that procedure, basic or resultant, in one’s repertoire! Bealer is one of
Grices most brilliant tutees in the New World. The Grice collection contains a
full f. of correspondence with Bealer. Bealer refers to Grice in his
influential Clarendon essay on content. Bealer is concerned with how pragmatic
inference may intrude in the ascription of a psychological, or souly, state,
attitude, or stance. Bealer loves to quote from Grice on definite descriptions
in Russell and in the vernacular, the implicaturum being that Russell is
impenetrable! Bealers mentor is Grices close collaborator Myro, so he knows
what he is talking about. Grice explored the matter of subperception at Oxford
only with G. J. Warnock.
conceptus: Grice: “The etymology of ‘conceptus’ is a fascinating one.
For one, all Roman words staring with ‘cum-‘ mean a sort of agreement – In this
case it’s cum- plus capio, as in captus,
capture. Grice obviously uses Frege’s notion of a ‘concept.’ One of Grice’s
metaphysical routines is meant to produce a logical construction of a concept
or generate a new concept. Aware of the act/product distinction, Grice
distinguishes between the conceptum, or concept, and the conception, or
conceptio. Grice allows that ‘not’ may be a ‘concept,’ so he is not tied to the
‘equine’ idea by Frege of the ‘horse.’ Since an agent can fail to conceive that
his neighbour’s three-year old is an adult, Grice accepts that ‘conceives’ may
take a ‘that’-clause. In ‘ordinary’ language, one does not seem to refer, say,
to the concept that e = mc2, but that may be a failure or ‘ordinary’ language.
In the canonical cat-on-the-mat, we have Grice conceiving that the cat is on
the mat, and also having at least four concepts: the concept of ‘cat,’ the
concept of ‘mat,’ the concept of ‘being on,’ and the concept of the cat being
on the mat. Griceian
Meinongianism -- conceivability, capability of being conceived or imagined.
Thus, golden mountains are conceivable; round squares, inconceivable. As
Descartes pointed out, the sort of imaginability required is not the ability to
form mental images. Chiliagons, Cartesian minds, and God are all conceivable,
though none of these can be pictured “in the mind’s eye.” Historical references
include Anselm’s definition of God as “a being than which none greater can be
conceived” and Descartes’s argument for dualism from the conceivability of
disembodied existence. Several of Hume’s arguments rest upon the maxim that
whatever is conceivable is possible. He argued, e.g., that an event can occur
without a cause, since this is conceivable, and his critique of induction
relies on the inference from the conceivability of a change in the course of
nature to its possibility. In response, Reid maintained that to conceive is
merely to understand the meaning of a proposition. Reid argued that
impossibilities are conceivable, since we must be able to understand
falsehoods. Many simply equate conceivability with possibility, so that to say
something is conceivable or inconceivable just is to say that it is possible or
impossible. Such usage is controversial, since conceivability is broadly an
epistemological notion concerning what can be thought, whereas possibility is a
metaphysical notion concerning how things can be. The same controversy can
arise regarding the compossible, or co-possible, where two states of affairs
are compossible provided it is possible that they both obtain, and two
propositions are compossible provided their conjunction is possible.
Alternatively, two things are compossible if and only if there is a possible
world containing both. Leibniz held that two things are compossible provided
they can be ascribed to the same possible world without contradiction. “There
are many possible universes, each collection of compossibles making one of
them.” Others have argued that non-contradiction is sufficient for neither
possibility nor compossibility. The claim that something is inconceivable is
usually meant to suggest more than merely an inability to conceive. It is to
say that trying to conceive results in a phenomenally distinctive mental
repugnance, e.g. when one attempts to conceive of an object that is red and
green all over at once. On this usage the inconceivable might be equated with
what one can “just see” to be impossible. There are two related usages of
‘conceivable’: 1 not inconceivable in the sense just described; and 2 such that
one can “just see” that the thing in question is possible. Goldbach’s
conjecture would seem a clear example of something conceivable in the first
sense, but not the second. Grice was also interested in conceptualism as an
answer to the problem of the universale. conceptualism, the view that there are
no universals and that the supposed classificatory function of universals is
actually served by particular concepts in the mind. A universal is a property
that can be instantiated by more than one individual thing or particular at the
same time; e.g., the shape of this , if identical with the shape of the next ,
will be one property instantiated by two distinct individual things at the same
time. If viewed as located where the s are, then it would be immanent. If
viewed as not having spatiotemporal location itself, but only bearing a
connection, usually called instantiation or exemplification, to things that
have such location, then the shape of this
would be transcendent and presumably would exist even if exemplified by
nothing, as Plato seems to have held. The conceptualist rejects both views by
holding that universals are merely concepts. Most generally, a concept may be
understood as a principle of classification, something that can guide us in
determining whether an entity belongs in a given class or does not. Of course,
properties understood as universals satisfy, trivially, this definition and
thus may be called concepts, as indeed they were by Frege. But the
conceptualistic substantive views of concepts are that concepts are 1 mental
representations, often called ideas, serving their classificatory function
presumably by resembling the entities to be classified; or 2 brain states that
serve the same function but presumably not by resemblance; or 3 general words
adjectives, common nouns, verbs or uses of such words, an entity’s belonging to
a certain class being determined by the applicability to the entity of the
appropriate word; or 4 abilities to classify correctly, whether or not with the
aid of an item belonging under 1, 2, or 3. The traditional conceptualist holds
1. Defenders of 3 would be more properly called nominalists. In whichever way
concepts are understood, and regardless of whether conceptualism is true, they
are obviously essential to our understanding and knowledge of anything, even at
the most basic level of cognition, namely, recognition. The classic work on the
topic is Thinking and Experience 4 by H. H. Price, who held 4.
conditionalis: Grice: “The etymology of ‘conditionale’ is fascinating. I
wish I knew it.” – It is strictly from conditio "a
making," from conditus, past
participle of condere "to put
together,” i.e. cum- plus dare. dāre (do I.obsol., found only in the
compounds, abdo, “condo,” – which gives ‘conditio,” confused with ‘con-dicio,”
a putting together taken as a ‘speaking-together,” abscondo, indo, etc.), 1, v.
a. Sanscr. root dhā-, da-dhāmi, set, put, place; Gr. θε-, τίθημι;
Ger. thun, thue, that; indeed cognate with English “do,” “deed,” etc.. The root
“dare” in “conditio” is distinct from 1. do, Sanscr. dā, in most of the Arian
langg.; cf. Pott. Etym. Forsch. 2, 484; Corss. Ausspr. 2, 410, “but in Italy the two *seem* to have been confounded – or lumped -- at least in compounds,” Georg Curtius Gr. Etym. p. 254 sq.;
cf. Max Müller, Science of Lang. Ser. 2, p. 220, N. Y. ed.; Fick, Vergl. Wört.
p. 100. The conditional is of special
interest to Grice because his ‘impilcature’ has a conditional form. In other
words, ‘implicaturum’ is a variant on ‘implication,’ and the conditionalis has
been called ‘implication’ – ‘even a material one, versus a formal one by
Whitehead and Russell. So it is of special philosophical interest. Since
Grice’s overarching interest is rationality, ‘conditionalis’ features in the
passage from premise to conclusion, deemed tautological: the ‘associated
conditional” of a valid piece of reasoning. “This is an interesting Latinism,”
as Grice puts it. For those in the know, it’s supposed to translate
‘hypothetical,’ that Grice also uses. But literally, the transliteration of
‘hypothetica’ is ‘sub-positio,’ i.e. ‘suppositio,’ so infamous in the Dark
Ages! So one has to be careful. For some reason, Boethius disliked
‘suppositio,’ and preferred to add to the Latinate philosophical vocabulary,
with ‘conditionalis,’ the hypothetical, versus the categoric, become the
‘conditionale.’ And the standard was not the Diodoran, but the Philonian, also
known, after Whitehead, as the ‘implicatio materialis.’ While this sounds
scholastic, it isn’t. Cicero may have used ‘implicatio materialis.’ But
Whitehead’s and Russell’s motivation is a different one. They start with the
‘material’, by which they mean a proposition WITH A TRUTH VALUE. For
implication that does not have this restriction, they introduce ‘implicatio
formalis,’ or ‘formal implication.’ In their adverbial ways, it goes p formally
implies q. trictly, propositio conditionalis:
vel substitutive, versus propositio praedicativa in Apuleius. Classical Latin condicio was
confused in Late Latin with conditio "a making," from conditus,
past participle of condere "to put together." The sense
evolution in Latin apparently was from "stipulation" to
"situation, mode of being."
Grice lists ‘if’ as the third binary functor in his response to Strawson. The
relations between “if” and “⊃” have already, but only in part,
been discussed. 1 The sign “⊃” is called the Material Implication
sign a name I shall consider later. Its meaning is given by the rule that any
statement of the form ‘p⊃q’ is false in the case in which the first of its
constituent statements is true and the second false, and is true in every other
case considered in the system; i. e., the falsity of the first constituent
statement or the truth of the second are, equally, sufficient conditions of the
truth of a statement of material implication ; the combination of truth in the
first with falsity in the second is the single, necessary and sufficient,
condition (1 Ch. 2, S. 7) of its falsity. The standard or primary -- the
importance of this qualifying phrase can scarcely be overemphasized. There are
uses of “if … then … ” which do not
answer to the description given here,, or to any other descriptions given in
this chapter -- use of an “if …
then …” sentence, on the other hand, we saw to be in circumstances where, not
knowing whether some statement which could be made by the use of a sentence
corresponding in a certain way to the first clause of the hypothetical is true
or not, or believing it to be false, we nevertheless consider that a step in
reasoning from that statement to a statement related in a similar way to the
second clause would be a sound or reasonable step ; the second statement also
being one of whose truth we are in doubt, or which we believe to be false. Even
in such circumstances as these we may sometimes hesitate to apply the word
‘true’ to hypothetical statements (i.e., statements which could be made by the
use of “if ... then …,” in its standard significance), preferring to call them
reasonable or well-founded ; but if we apply ‘true’ to them at all, it will be
in such circumstances as these. Now one of the sufficient conditions of the
truth of a statement of material implication may very well be fulfilled without
the conditions for the truth, or reasonableness, of the corresponding
hypothetical statement being fulfilled ; i.e., a statement of the form ‘p⊃q’ does not entail the corresponding statement of the form
“if p then q.” But if we are prepared to accept the hypothetical statement, we
must in consistency be prepared to deny the conjunction of the statement
corresponding to the first clause of the sentence used to make the hypothetical
statement with the negation of the statement corresponding to its second clause
; i.e., a statement of the form “if p then q” does entail the corresponding statement
of the form ‘p⊃q.’ The force of “corresponding” needs elucidation. Consider
the three following very ordinary specimens of hypothetical sentences. If the
Germans had invaded England in 1940, they would have won the war. If Jones were
in charge, half the staff would have been dismissed. If it rains, the match will
be cancelled. The sentences which could be used to make statements
corresponding in the required sense to the subordinate clauses can be
ascertained by considering what it is that the speaker of each hypothetical
sentence must (in general) be assumed either to be in doubt about or to believe
to be not the case. Thus, for (1) to (8), the corresponding pairs of sentences
are as follows. The Germans invaded England in 1940; they won the war. Jones is
in charge; half the staff has been dismissed. It will rain; the match will be
cancelled. Sentences which could be used to make the statements of material
implication corresponding to the hypothetical statements made by these
sentences can now be framed from these pairs of sentences as follows. The Germans
invaded England in 1940 ⊃ they won the war. Jones is in charge ⊃ half the staff has been, dismissed. It will rain ⊃ the match will be cancelled. The very fact that these
verbal modifications are necessary, in order to obtain from the clauses of the
hypothetical sentence the clauses of the corresponding material implication
sentence is itself a symptom of the radical difference between hypothetical
statements and truth-functional statements. Some detailed differences are also
evident from these examples. The falsity of a statement made by the use of ‘The
Germans invaded England in 1940’ or ‘Jones is in charge’ is a sufficient
condition of the truth of the corresponding statements made by the use of (Ml)
and (M2) ; but not, of course, of the corresponding statements made by the use
of (1) and (2). Otherwise, there would normally be no point in using sentences
like (1) and (2) at all; for these sentences would normally carry – but not
necessarily: one may use the pluperfect or the imperfect subjunctive when one
is simply working out the consequences of an hypothesis which one may be
prepared eventually to accept -- in the tense or mood of the verb, an
implication of the utterer's belief in the falsity of the statements
corresponding to the clauses of the hypothetical. It is not raining is
sufficient to verify a statement made by the use of (MS), but not a
statementmade by the use of (3). Its not raining Is also sufficient to verify a
statement made by the use of “It will rain ⊃
the match will not be cancelled.” The formulae ‘p revise ⊃q’ and ‘q revise⊃
q' are consistent with one another, and the joint assertion of corresponding
statements of these forms is equivalent to the assertion of the corresponding
statement of the form * *-~p. But “If it rains, the match will be cancelled” is
inconsistent with “If it rains, the match will not be cancelled,” and their
joint assertion in the same context is self-contradictory. Suppose we call the
statement corresponding to the first clause of a sentence used to make a
hypothetical statement the antecedent of the hypothetical statement; and the
statement corresponding to the second clause, its consequent. It is sometimes
fancied that whereas the futility of identifying conditional statements with
material implications is obvious in those cases where the implication of the
falsity of the antecedent is normally carried by the mood or tense of the verb
(e.g., (I) or (2)), there is something to be said for at least a partial
identification in cases where no such implication is involved, i.e., where the
possibility of the truth of both antecedent and consequent is left open (e.g.,
(3). In cases of the first kind (‘unfulfilled’ or ‘subjunctive’ conditionals)
our attention is directed only to the last two lines of the truth-tables for *
p ⊃ q ', where the antecedent has the truth-value, falsity; and
the suggestion that ‘~p’ entails ‘if p, then q’ is felt to be obviously wrong.
But in cases of the second kind we may inspect also the first two lines, for
the possibility of the antecedent's being fulfilled is left open; and the
suggestion that ‘p . q’ entails ‘if p, then q’ is not felt to be obviously
wrong. This is an illusion, though engendered by a reality. The fulfilment of
both antecedent and consequent of a hypothetical statement does not show that
the man who made the hypothetical statement was right; for the consequent might
be fulfilled as a result of factors unconnected with, or in spite of, rather
than because of, the fulfilment of the antecedent. We should be prepared to say
that the man who made the hypothetical statement was right only if we were also
prepared to say that the fulfilment of the antecedent was, at least in part,
the explanation of the fulfilment of the consequent. The reality behind the
illusion is complex : en. 3 it is, partly, the fact that, in many cases, the
fulfilment of both antecedent and consequent may provide confirmation for the
view that the existence of states of affairs like those described by the
antecedent is a good reason for expecting states of affairs like those
described by the consequent ; and it is, partly, the fact that a man whosays,
for example, 4 If it rains, the match will be cancelled * makes a prediction
(viz.. that the match will be cancelled) under a proviso (viz., that it rains),
and that the cancellation of the match because of the rain therefore leads us
to say, not only that the reasonableness of the prediction was confirmed, but
also that the prediction itself was confirmed. Because a statement of the form
“p⊃q” does not entail the corresponding statement of the form '
if p, then q ' (in its standard employment), we shall expect to find, and have
found, a divergence between the rules for '⊃'
and the rules for ' if J (in its standard employment). Because ‘if p, then q’
does entail ‘p⊃q,’ we shall also expect to find some degree of parallelism
between the rules; for whatever is entailed by ‘p "3 q’ will be entailed
by ‘if p, then q,’ though not everything which entails ‘p⊃q’ will entail ‘if p, then q.’ Indeed, we find further
parallels than those which follow simply from the facts that ‘if p, then q’
entails ‘p⊃q’ and that entailment is transitive. To laws (19)-(23)
inclusive we find no parallels for ‘if.’ But for (15) (p⊃j).JJ⊃? (16) (P ⊃q).~qZ)~p (17) p'⊃q s ~q1)~p (18) (?⊃j).(?
⊃r) ⊃ (p⊃r) we find that, with certain reservations, 1 the following
parallel laws hold good : (1 The reservations are important. It is, e. g.,
often impossible to apply entailment-rule (iii) directly without obtaining
incorrect or absurd results. Some modification of the structure of the clauses
of the hypothetical is commonly necessary. But formal logic gives us no guide
as to which modifications are required. If we apply rule (iii) to our specimen
hypothetical sentences, without modifying at all the tenses or moods of the
individual clauses, we obtain expressions which are scarcely English. If we
preserve as nearly as possible the tense-mood structure, in the simplest way
consistent with grammatical requirements, we obtain the sentences : If the
Germans had not won the war, they would not have invaded England in
1940.) If half the staff had not been dismissed, Jones would not be in
charge. If the match is not cancelled, it will not rain. But these sentences,
so far from being logically equivalent to the originals, have in each case a
quite different sense. It is possible, at least in some such cases, to frame
sentences of more or less the appropriate pattern for which one can imagine a
use and which do stand in the required logical relationship to the original
sentences (e.g., ‘If it is not the case that half the staff has been dismissed,
then Jones can't be in charge;’ or ‘If the Germans did not win the war, it's
only because they did not invade England in 1940;’ or even (should historical
evidence become improbably scanty), ‘If the Germans did not win the war, it
can't be true that they invaded England in 1940’). These changes reflect
differences in the circumstances in which one might use these, as opposed to
the original, sentences. Thus the sentence beginning ‘If Jones were in charge
…’ would normally, though not necessarily, be used by a man who antecedently
knows that Jones is not in charge : the sentence beginning ‘If it's not the
case that half the staff has been dismissed …’ by a man who is working towards
the conclusion that Jones is not in charge. To say that the sentences are
nevertheless logically equivalent is to point to the fact that the grounds for
accepting either, would, in different circumstances, have been grounds for accepting
the soundness of the move from ‘Jones is in charge’ to ‘Half the staff has been
dismissed.’) (i) (if p, then q; and p)^q
(ii) (if p, then qt and not-g) Dnot-j? (iii) (if p, then f) ⊃ (if not-0, then not-j?) (iv) (if p, then f ; and iff, then
r) ⊃(if j>, then r) (One must remember that calling the
formulae (i)-(iv) is the same as saying that, e.g., in the case of (iii), c if
p, then q ' entails 4 if not-g, then not-j> '.) And similarly we find that,
for some steps which would be invalid for 4 if ', there are corresponding steps
that would be invalid for “⊃,” e. g. (p^q).q :. p are invalid inference-patterns,
and so are if p, then q ; and q /. p if p, then ; and not-j? /. not-f .The
formal analogy here may be described by saying that neither * p 13 q ' nor * if
j?, then q * is a simply convertible formula. We have found many laws (e.g.,
(19)-(23)) which hold for “⊃” and not for “if.” As an example of
a law which holds for “if,” but not for
“⊃,” we may give the analytic formula “ ~[(if p, then q) * (if
p, then not-g)]’. The corresponding formula 4 ~[(P 3 ?) * (j? 3 ~?}]’ is not
analytic, but (el (28)) is equivalent to the contingent formula ‘~~p.’ The
rules to the effect that formulae such as (19)-{23) are analytic are sometimes
referred to as ‘paradoxes of implication.’ This is a misnomer. If ‘⊃’ is taken as identical either with ‘entails’ or, more
widely, with ‘if ... then …’ in its
standard use, the rules are not paradoxical, but simply incorrect. If ‘⊃’ is given the meaning it has in the system of truth functions,
the rules are not paradoxical, but simple and platitudinous consequences of the
meaning given to the symbol. Throughout this section, I have spoken of a
‘primary or standard’ use of “if … then …,” or “if,” of which the main
characteristics were: that for each hypothetical statement made by this use of
“if,” there could be made just one statement which would be the antecedent of
the hypothetical and just one statement which would be its consequent; that the
hypothetical statement is acceptable (true, reasonable) if the antecedent
statement, if made or accepted, would, in the circumstances, be a good ground
or reason for accepting the consequent statement; and that the making of the
hypothetical statement carries the implication either of uncertainty about, or
of disbelief in, the fulfilment of both antecedent and consequent. (1 Not all
uses of * if ', however, exhibit all these characteristics. In particular,
there is a use which has an equal claim to rank as standard and which is
closely connected with the use described, but which does not exhibit the first
characteristic and for which the description of the remainder must consequently
be modified. I have in mind what are sometimes called 'variable' or 'general’
hypothetical : e.g., ‘lf ice is left in the sun, it melts,’ ‘If the side of a
triangle is produced, the exterior angle is equal to the sum of the two
interior and opposite angles ' ; ' If a child is very strictly disciplined in
the nursery, it will develop aggressive tendencies in adult life,’ and so on.
To a statement made by the use of a sentence such as these there corresponds no
single pair of statements which are, respectively, its antecedent and
consequent. On the other 1 There is much more than this to be said about this
way of using ‘if;’ in particular, about the meaning of the question whether the
antecedent would be a good ground or reason for accepting the consequent and
about the exact way in which this question is related to the question of
whether the hypothetical is true {acceptable, reasonable) or not hand, for
every such statement there is an indefinite number of non-general hypothetical
statements which might be called exemplifications, applications, of the
variable hypothetical; e.g., a statement made by the use of the sentence ‘If
this piece of ice is left in the sun, it will melt.’ To the subject of variable
hypothetical I may return later. 1 Two relatively uncommon uses of ‘if’ may be
illustrated respectively by the sentences ‘If he felt embarrassed, he showed no
signs of it’ and ‘If he has passed his exam, I’m a Dutchman (I'll eat my hat,
&c.)’ The sufficient and necessary condition of the truth of a statement
made by the first is that the man referred to showed no sign of embarrassment.
Consequently, such a statement cannot be treated either as a standard
hypothetical or as a material implication. Examples of the second kind are
sometimes erroneously treated as evidence that ‘if’ does, after all, behave
somewhat as ‘⊃’ behaves. The evidence for this is, presumably, the facts
(i) that there is no connexion between antecedent and consequent; (ii) that the
consequent is obviously not (or not to be) fulfilled ; (iii) that the intention
of the speaker is plainly to give emphatic expression to the conviction that
the antecedent is not fulfilled either ; and (iv) the fact that “(p ⊃ q) . ~q” entails “~p.” But this is a strange piece of
logic. For, on any possible interpretation, “if p then q” has, in respect of
(iv), the same logical powers as ‘p⊃q;’
and it is just these logical powers that we are jokingly (or fantastically)
exploiting. It is the absence of connexion referred to in (i) that makes it a
quirk, a verbal flourish, an odd use of ‘if.’ If hypothetical statements were
material implications, the statements would be not a quirkish oddity, but a
linguistic sobriety and a simple truth. Finally, we may note that ‘if’ can be employed not simply in making
statements, but in, e.g., making provisional announcements of intention (e.g.,
‘If it rains, I shall stay at home’) which, like unconditional announcements of
intention, we do not call true or false but describe in some other way. If the
man who utters the quoted sentence leaves home in spite of the rain, we do not
say that what he said was false, though we might say that he lied (never really
intended to stay in) ; or that he changed his mind. There are further uses of
‘if’ which I shall not discuss. 1 v. ch. 7, I. The safest way to read the
material implication sign is, perhaps, ‘not both … and not …’ The material
equivalence sign ‘≡’ has the meaning given by the
following definition : p q =df=⊃/'(p⊃ff).(sOj)'
and the phrase with which it is sometimes identified, viz., ‘if and only if,’
has the meaning given by the following definition: ‘p if and only if q’ =df ‘if
p then g, and if q then p.’ Consequently, the objections which hold against the
identification of ‘p⊃q” with ‘if p then q’ hold with double force against the
identification of “p≡q’ with ‘p if and only if q.’ ‘If’
is of particular interest to Grice. The interest in the ‘if’ is double in
Grice. In doxastic contexts, he needs it for his analysis of ‘intending’
against an ‘if’-based dispositional (i.e. subjective-conditional) analysis. He
is of course, later interested in how Strawson misinterpreted the ‘indicative’
conditional! It is later when he starts to focus on the ‘buletic’ mode marker,
that he wants to reach to Paton’s categorical (i.e. non-hypothetical)
imperative. And in so doing, he has to face the criticism of those Oxonian
philosophers who were sceptical about the very idea of a conditional buletic
(‘conditional command – what kind of a command is that?’. Grice would refere to
the protasis, or antecedent, as a relativiser – where we go again to the
‘absolutum’-‘relativum’ distinction. The conditional is also paramount in
Grice’s criticism of Ryle, where the keyword would rather be ‘disposition.’
Then ther eis the conditional and disposition. Grice is a philosophical
psychologist. Does that make sense? So are Austin (Other Minds), Hampshire
(Dispositions), Pears (Problems in philosophical psychology) and Urmson
(Parentheticals). They are ALL against Ryle’s silly analysis in terms of
single-track disposition" vs. "many-track disposition," and
"semi-disposition." If I hum and walk, I can either hum or walk. But
if I heed mindfully, while an IN-direct sensing may guide me to YOUR soul, a
DIRECT sensing guides me to MY soul. When Ogden consider attacks to meaning,
theres what he calls the psychological, which he ascribes to Locke Grices
attitude towards Ryle is difficult to assess. His most favourable assessment
comes from Retrospective epilogue, but then he is referring to Ryle’s fairy
godmother. Initially, he mentions Ryle as a philosopher engaged in, and
possibly dedicated to the practice of the prevailing Oxonian methodology, i.e.
ordinary-language philosophy. Initially, then, Grice enlists Ryle in
the regiment of ordinary-language philosophers. After introducing Athenian
dialectic and Oxonian dialectic, Grice traces some parallelisms, which should
not surprise. It is tempting to suppose that Oxonian dialectic reproduces some
ideas of Athenian dialectic. It would actually be surprising if there
were no parallels. Ryle was, after all, a skilled and enthusiastic student of
Grecian philosophy. Interestingly, Grice then has Ryles fairy godmother as
proposing the idea that, far from being a basis for rejecting the
analytic-synthetic distinction, opposition that there are initially two
distinct bundles of statements, bearing the labels analytic and synthetic,
lying around in the world of thought waiting to be noticed, provides us with
the key to making the analytic-synthetic distinction acceptable. The
essay has a verificationist ring to it. Recall Ayer and the
verificationists trying to hold water with concepts like fragile and the
problem of counterfactual conditionals vis-a-vis observational and
theoretical concepts. Grices essay has two parts: one on disposition as
such, and the second, the application to a type of psychological
disposition, which would be phenomenalist in a way, or verificationist, in
that it derives from introspection of, shall we say, empirical
phenomena. Grice is going to analyse, I want a sandwich. One person
wrote in his manuscript, there is something with the way Grice goes to work.
Still. Grice says that I want a sandwich (or I will that I eat a sandwich)
is problematic, for analysis, in that it seems to refer to experience that is
essentially private and unverifiable. An analysis of intending that p in terms
of being disposed that p is satisfied solves this. Smith wants a sandwich, or
he wills that he eats a sandwich, much as Toby needs nuts, if Smith opens the
fridge and gets one. Smith is disposed to act such that p is satisfied.
This Grice opposes to the ‘special-episode’ analysis of intending that p. An
utterance like I want a sandwich iff by uttering the utterance, the utterer is
describing this or that private experience, this or that private
sensation. This or that sensation may take the form of a highly specific
souly sate, like what Grice calls a sandwich-wanting-feeling. But then, if
he is not happy with the privacy special-episode analysis, Grice is also
dismissive of Ryles behaviourism in The concept of mind, fresh from
the press, which would describe the utterance in terms purely of this or that observable
response, or behavioural output, provided this or that sensory input. Grice
became friendlier with functionalism after Lewis taught him how. The
problem or crunch is with the first person. Surely, Grice claims, one does not
need to wait to observe oneself heading for the fridge before one is in a
position to know that he is hungry. Grice poses a problem for the
protocol-reporter. You see or observe someone else, Smith, that Smith wants a
sandwich, or wills that he eats a sandwich. You ask for evidence. But when it
is the agent himself who wants the sandwich, or wills that he eats a
sandwich, Grice melodramatically puts it, I am not in the
audience, not even in the front row of the stalls; I am on the
stage. Genial, as you will agree. Grice then goes on to offer an
analysis of intend, his basic and target attitude, which he has just used to
analyse and rephrase Peirces mean and which does relies on this or that piece
of dispositional evidence, without divorcing itself completely from the privileged
status or access of first-person introspective knowledge. In “Uncertainty,”
Grice weakens his reductive analysis of intending that, from neo-Stoutian,
based on certainty, or assurance, to neo-Prichardian, based on predicting. All
very Oxonian: Stout was the sometime Wilde reader in mental philosophy (a post
usually held by a psychologist, rather than a philosopher ‒ Stouts favourite
philosopher is psychologist James! ‒ and Prichard was Cliftonian and the proper
White chair of moral philosophy. And while in “Uncertainty” he allows that
willing that may receive a physicalist treatment, qua state, hell later turn a
functionalist, discussed under ‘soul, below, in his “Method in
philosophical psychology (from the banal to the bizarre” (henceforth, “Method”),
in the Proceedings and Addresses of the American Philosophical Association,
repr. in “Conception.” Grice can easily relate to Hamsphires "Thought and
Action," a most influential essay in the Oxonian scene. Rather than Ryle!
And Grice actually addresses further topics on intention drawing on Hampshire,
Hart, and his joint collaboration with Pears. Refs.: The main reference is
Grice’s early essay on disposition and intention, The H. P. Grice. Refs.: The
main published source is Essay 4 in WOW, but there are essays on ‘ifs and
cans,’ so ‘if’ is a good keyword, on ‘entailment,’ and for the connection with
‘intending,’ ‘disposition and intention,’ BANC.
confirmatum – cf. infirmatum,
firmatum -- disconfirmatum -- confirmation, an evidential relation between evidence
and any statement especially a scientific hypothesis that this evidence
supports. It is essential to distinguish two distinct, and fundamentally
different, meanings of the term: 1 the incremental sense, in which a piece of
evidence contributes at least some degree of support to the hypothesis in
question e.g., finding a fingerprint of
the suspect at the scene of the crime lends some weight to the hypothesis that
the suspect is guilty; and 2 the absolute sense, in which a body of evidence
provides strong support for the hypothesis in question e.g., a case presented by a prosecutor making
it practically certain that the suspect is guilty. If one thinks of
confirmation in terms of probability, then evidence that increases the
probability of a hypothesis confirms it incrementally, whereas evidence that
renders a hypothesis highly probable confirms it absolutely. In each of the two
foregoing senses one can distinguish three types of confirmation: i
qualitative, ii quantitative, and iii comparative. i Both examples in the
preceding paragraph illustrate qualitative confirmation, for no numerical
values of the degree of confirmation were mentioned. ii If a gambler, upon
learning that an opponent holds a certain card, asserts that her chance of
winning has increased from 2 /3 to ¾, the claim is an instance of quantitative
incremental confirmation. If a physician states that, on the basis of an X-ray,
the probability that the patient has tuberculosis is .95, that claim
exemplifies quantitative absolute confirmation. In the incremental sense, any
case of quantitative confirmation involves a difference between two probability
values; in the absolute sense, any case of quantitative confirmation involves
only one probability value. iii Comparative confirmation in the incremental
sense would be illustrated if an investigator said that possession of the
murder weapon weighs more heavily against the suspect than does the fingerprint
found at the scene of the crime. Comparative confirmation in the absolute sense
would occur if a prosecutor claimed to have strong cases against two suspects
thought to be involved in a crime, but that the case against one is stronger
than that against the other. Even given recognition of the foregoing six
varieties of confirmation, there is still considerable controversy regarding
its analysis. Some authors claim that quantitative confirmation does not exist;
only qualitative and/or comparative confirmation are possible. Some authors
maintain that confirmation has nothing to do with probability, whereas
others known as Bayesians analyze confirmation explicitly in terms of
Bayes’s theorem in the mathematical calculus of probability. Among those who
offer probabilistic analyses there are differences as to which interpretation
of probability is suitable in this context. Popper advocates a concept of
corroboration that differs fundamentally from confirmation. Many real or
apparent paradoxes of confirmation have been posed; the most famous is the
paradox of the ravens. It is plausible to suppose that ‘All ravens are black’
can be incrementally confirmed by the observation of one of its instances,
namely, a black crow. However, ‘All ravens are black’ is logically equivalent
to ‘All non-black things are non-ravens.’ By parity of reasoning, an instance of
this statement, namely, any nonblack non-raven e.g., a white shoe, should
incrementally confirm it. Moreover, the equivalence condition whatever confirms a hypothesis must equally
confirm any statement logically equivalent to it seems eminently reasonable. The result
appears to facilitate indoor ornithology, for the observation of a white shoe
would seem to confirm incrementally the hypothesis that all ravens are black.
Many attempted resolutions of this paradox can be found in the literature.
conjunctum: There is the conjunctum, Grice notes, and the disjunctum,
and the adjunctum, as Myro was (adjunct professor). One has to be careful
because the scholastic vocabulary also misleadingly has ‘copulatum’ for this.
The ‘copulatum’ should be restricted to other usages, which Grice elaborates on
‘izzing’ and hazing. traditional parlance, one ‘pars orationis.’ Aulus Gellius writes; “What the Greeks call
“sympleplegmenon” we call conjunctum or copulatum, copulative sentence. For
example. The Stoic copulative sentence — sumpleplegmenon axioma — is translated
by “conjunctum” or “copulatum,” for example: „P. Scipio, son of Paulus, was a
consul twice and was given the honour of triumph and also performed the
function of censor and was the colleague of L. Mummius during his censorship”.
Here, Aulus Gellius made a noteworthy remark, referring to the value of truth
of the composing propositions ■ (a Stoic problem). In keeping with the Stoics,
he wrote: “If one element of the copulative sentence is false, even if all the
other elements are true, the copulative sentence is false” (“in omni aiitem
conjuncto si unum est mendacium etiamsi, caetera vera sunt, totum esse
mendacium dicitur”). In the identification of ‘and’ with ‘Λ’
there is already a considerable
distortion of the facts. ‘And’ can perform many jobs which ‘Λ’ cannot perform. It can, for instance, be used to couple
nouns (“Tom and William arrived”), or adjectives (“He was hungry and thirsty”),
or adverbs (“He walked slowly and painfully”); while ' . ' can be used only to
couple expressions which could appear as separate sentences. One might be
tempted to say that sentences in which “and” coupled words or phrases, were
short for sentences in which “and” couples clauses; e.g., that “He was hungry
and thirsty” was short for “He was hungry and he was thirsty.” But this is
simply false. We do not say, of anyone who uses sentences like “Tom and William
arrived,” that he is speaking elliptically, or using abbreviations. On the
contrary, it is one of the functions of “and,” to which there is no counterpart
In the case of “.,” to form plural subjects or compound predicates. Of course
it is true of many statements of the forms “x and y” are/* or ' x is /and g \
that they are logically equivalent to corresponding statements of the"
form * x Is /and yisf'oT^x is /and x is g \ But, first, this is a fact about
the use, in certain contexts, of “and,”
to which there corresponds no rule for the use of * . '. And, second, there are
countless contexts for which such an equivalence does not hold; e.g. “Tom and
Mary made friends” is not equivalent to “Tom made friends and Mary made
friends.” They mean, usually, quite different things. But notice that one could
say “Tom and Mary made friends; but not with one another.” The implication of
mutuality in the first phrase is not so strong but that it can be rejected
without self-contradiction; but it is strong enough to make the rejection a
slight shock, a literary effect. Nor does such an equivalence hold if we
replace “made friends” by “met yesterday,” “were conversing,” “got married,” or
“were playing chess.” Even “Tom and William arrived” does not mean the same as
“Tom arrived and William arrived;” for the first suggests “together” and the
second an order of arrival. It might be conceded that “and” has functions which
“ .” has not (e.g., may carry in certain contexts an implication of mutuality
which ‘.’ does not), and yet claimed
that the rules which hold for “and,” where it is used to couple clauses, are
the same as the rules which hold for “.” Even this is not true. By law (11),
" p , q ' is logically equivalent to * q . p ' ; but “They got married and
had a child” or “He set to work and found a job” are by no means logically
equivalent to “They had a child and got married” or “He found a job and set to
work.” One might try to avoid these difficulties by regarding ‘.’ as having the
function, not of ' and ', but of what it looks like, namely a full stop. We
should then have to desist from talking of statements of the forms ' p .q\ * p
. J . r * &CM and talk of sets-of-statements of these forms instead.
But this would not avoid all, though it would avoid some, of the difficulties.
Even in a passage of prose consisting of several indicative sentences, the
order of the sentences may be in general vital to the sense, and in particular,
relevant (in a way ruled out by law (II)) to the truth-conditions of a
set-of-statements made by such a passage. The fact is that, in general, in
ordinary speech and writing, clauses and sentences do not contribute to the
truthconditions of things said by the use of sentences and paragraphs in which
they occur, in any such simple way as that pictured by the truth-tables for the
binary connectives (' D ' * . ', 4 v ', 35 ') of the system, but in far more
subtle, various, and complex ways. But it is precisely the simplicity of the
way in which, by the definition of a truth-function, clauses joined by these
connectives contribute to the truth-conditions of sentences resulting from the
junctions, which makes possible the stylized, mechanical neatness of the
logical system. It will not do to reproach the logician for his divorce from
linguistic realities, any more than it will do to reproach the abstract painter
for not being a representational artist; but one may justly reproach him if he
claims to be a representational artist. An abstract painting may be,
recognizably, a painting of something. And the identification of “.” with
‘and,’ or with a full stop, is not a simple mistake. There is a great deal of
point in comparing them. The interpretation of, and rules for, “.”define a
minimal linguistic operation, which we might call ‘simple conjunction’ and
roughly describe as the joining together of two (or more) statements in the
process of asserting them both (or all). And this is a part of what we often do
with ' and ', and with the full stop. But we do not string together at random
any assertions we consider true; we bring them together, in spoken or written
sentences or paragraphs, only when there is some further reason for the
rapprochement, e.g., when they record successive episodes in a single
narrative. And that for the sake of which we conjoin may confer upon the
sentences embodying the conjunction logical features at variance with the rules
for “.” Thus we have seen that a statement of the form “p and q” may carry an
implication of temporal order incompatible with that carried by the
corresponding statement of the form “q and p.” This is not to deny that
statements corresponding to these, but of the forms ‘pΛq’ and ‘qΛp’would
be, if made, logically equivalent; for such statements would carry no
implications, and therefore no incompatible implications, of temporal order.
Nor is it to deny the point, and merit, of the comparison; the statement of the
form ‘pΛq’ means at least a part of what is
meant by the corresponding statement of the form ‘p and q.’ We might say: the form ‘p q’ is an abstraction from the
different uses of the form ‘p and q.’ Simple conjunction is a minimal element in
colloquial conjunction. We may speak of ‘. ‘ as the conjunctive sign; and read
it, for simplicity's sake, as “and” or “both … and … “I have already remarked
that the divergence between the meanings given to the truth-functional
constants and the meanings of the ordinary conjunctions with which they are
commonly identified is at a minimum in the cases of ' ~ ' and ‘.’ We have seen,
as well, that the remaining constants of the system can be defined in terms of
these two. Other interdefinitions are equally possible. But since ^’ and ‘.’ are more nearly identifiable with ‘not’ and
‘and’ than any other constant with any other English word, I prefer to
emphasize the definability of the remaining constants in terms of ‘ .’ and ‘~.’
It is useful to remember that every rule or law of the system can be expressed
in terms of negation and simple conjunction. The system might, indeed, be
called the System of Negation and Conjunction. Grice lists ‘and’ as the first
binary functor in his response to Strawson. Grice’s conversationalist hypothesis
applies to this central ‘connective.’ Interestingly, in his essay on Aristotle,
and discussing, “French poet,” Grice distinguishes between conjunction and
adjunction. “French” is adjuncted to ‘poet,’ unlike ‘fat’ in ‘fat philosopher.’ And Grice:substructural logics,
metainference, implicaturum. Grice explores some of the issues regarding
pragmatic enrichment and substructural logics with a special focus on the first
dyadic truth-functor, ‘and.’ In particular, attention is given to a
sub-structural “rule” pertaining to the commutativeness of conjunction,
applying a framework that sees Grice as clarifying the extra material that must
be taken into account, and which will referred to as the ‘implicaturum.’ Grice
is thus presented as defending a “classical-logical” rule that assigns
commutativeness to conjunction while accounting for Strawson-type alleged
counterexamples to the effect that some utterances of the schema “p and q”
hardly allow for a ‘commutative’ “inference” (“Therefore, q and p”). How to
proceed conservatively while allowing room for pluralism? Embracing the
“classical-logical” syntactic introduction-cum-elimination and semantic
interpretation of “and,” the approach by Cook Wilson in “Statement and
inference” to the inferential métier of “and” is assessed. If Grice grants that
there is some degree of artificiality in speaking of the meaning or sense of
“and,” the polemic brings us to the realm of ‘pragmatic inference,’ now
contrasted to a ‘logical inference.’ The endorsement by Grice of an ‘impoverished’
reading of conjunction appears conservative vis-à-vis not just Strawson’s
‘informalist’ picture but indeed the formalist frameworks of relevant, linear,
and ordered logic. An external practical decision à la Carnap is in order, that
allows for an enriched, stronger, reading, if not in terms of a conventional implicaturum,
as Strawson suggests. A ‘classical-logic’ reading in terms of a conversational implicaturum
agrees with Grice’s ‘Bootstrap,’ a methodological principle constraining the
meta-language/object-language divide. Keywords:
conjunction, pragmatic enrichment, H. Paul Grice, Bootstrap. “[I]n recent
years, my disposition to resort to formalism has markedly diminished. This
retreat may well have been accelerated when, of all people, Hilary Putnam
remarked to me that I was too formal!”H.P. Grice, ‘Prejudices and
predilections; which become, the life and opinions of Paul Grice,’ in Grandy
& Warner, 1986:61 Keywords: metainference, substructural logics, classical
logic, conjunction, H. Paul Grice, pragmatic inference; Rudolf Carnap,
bootstrap, modernism, formalism, neotraditionalism, informalism, pragmatics,
inference, implicaturum, extensional conjunction, intensional conjunction,
multiplicative conjunction, additive conjunction. Grice’s approach consistent
with Rudolf Carnap’s logical pluralism that allows room for the account put
forward by H. Paul Grice in connection with a specific meta-inference (or
second-order “… yields …”) as it may help us take an ‘external’ practical
decision as to how to recapture a structural ‘rule’ of classical logic. The
attempt involves a reconsideration, with a special focus on the sub-structural
classical logic rules for conjunction of Grice’s ultimately metaphilosophical
motivation in the opening paragraphs to “Logic and Conversation.” Grice
explores stick the first dyadic
truth-functor Grice lists. In fact, it’s the first alleged divergence, between
“p and q” and “p. . q” that Grice had quotes in “Prolegomena” to motivate his
audience, and the example he brings up vis-à-vis an ‘alleged’ “linguistic
offence” (a paradox?) that an utterer may incur by uttering “He got into bed
and took his clothes off, but I don’t mean to suggest he did it in that order”
(Grice 1981:186). Implicatura
are cancellable. In the present scheme, which justifies substructural logics,
this amounts to any ‘intensional’ reading of a connective (e. g. ‘and’) being
susceptible of being turned or ‘trans-formed’
into
the correlative extensional one in light of the cancelling clause, which brings
new information to the addressee A. This is hardly problematic if we consider
that sub-structural logics do not aim to capture the ‘semantics’ of a
logical constant, and that the sub-structural logical ‘enrichment’ is relevant,
rather, for the constant’s ‘inferential role.’Neither is it problematic that
the fact that the ‘inferential role’ of a logical constant (such as ‘and’) may
change (allowing this ‘trans-formation’ from classical-logical extensional to
sub-structural logical intension, given new information which will be used by
the addressee A to ‘work out’ the utterer U’s meaning. The obvious, but worthemphasizing, entailment in Grice’s
assertion about the “mistake” shared by Formalism and Informalism is that
FORMALISM (as per the standard presentations of ‘classical logic’) does commit
a mistake! Re-capturing the FORMALISM of classical logic is hardly as direct in
the Griceian programme as one would assume. Grice’s ultimate meta-philosophical
motivation, though, seems to be more in agreement with FORMALISM. Formalism can
repair the mistake, Grice thinks, not by allowing a change in the assigning of
an ‘interpretation’ rule of an empoverished “and” (““p and q” is 1 iff both p
and q are 1, 0 otherwise.” (Cfr. Pap: “Obviously, I cannot prove that
“(p and q) ≡ (q and p)” is tautologous (and that
therefore “He got into bed and took off his clothes’ iff ‘he took of his
clothes and got into bed,’) unless I first
construct an adequate truth-table defining the use of “and.”
But surely one of the points of constructing such a table is to ‘reproduce’ or
capture’ the meaning of ‘and’ in a natural language! The proposal seems
circular!) and a deductive ‘syntactics’ rule,
involving the Gentzen-type elimination of ‘and’ (“ “p and q” yields “p”; and
its reciprocal, “ “p and q” yields “q”.” To avoid commiting the mistake,
formalism must recognise the conversational implicaturum ceteris paribus
derived from some constraint of rational co-operation (in particular, the
desideratum or conversational maxim, “be orderly!”) and allow for some
syntactical scope device to make the implicaturum obvious, an ‘explicatum,’
almost (without the need to reinforce “and” into “and then”). In Grice’s
examples, it may not even be a VIOLATION, but a FLOUT, of a conversational
maxim or desideratum, within the observance of an overarching co-operation
principle (A violation goes unnoticed; a flout is a rhetorical device. Cfr.
Quintilian’s observation that Homer would often use “p & q” with the implicaturum
“but not in that order” left to the bard’s audience to work out). Grice’s attempt
is to recapture “classical-logic” “and,” however pragmatically ‘enriched,’
shares some features with other sub-structural logics, since we have allowed
for a syntactical tweak of the ‘inference’ rules; which we do via the
pragmatist (rather than pragmatic) ‘implicatural’ approach to logic,
highlighting one pragmatic aspect of a logic without CUT. Grice grants that “p and q” should read “p .
q” “when [“p . q” is] interpreted in the classical two-valued way.” His wording
is thus consistent with OTHER ways (notably relevant logic, linear and ordered
logic). Grice seems to have as one of his ‘unspeakable truths’ things like “He
got into bed and took his clothes off,” “said of a man who proceeds otherwise.”
After mentioning “and” “interpreted in the classical
two-valued way,” Grice dedicates a full
paragraph to explore the classical logic’s manifesto. The idea is to
provide a SYSTEM that will give us an algorithm to decide which formulae are
theorems. The ‘logical consequence’ (or “… yields …”) relation is given a
precise definition.Grice
notes that “some logicians [whom he does not mention] may at some time have
wanted to claim that there are in fact no such divergences [between “p and q”
and “p . q”]; but such claims, if made at all, have been somewhat rashly made,
and those suspected of making them have been subjected to some pretty rough
handling.” “Those who concede that such
divergences [do] exist” are the formalists. “An outline of a not
uncharacteristic FORMALIST position may be given as follows,” Grice notes. We
proceed to number the thesis since it sheds light on what makes a
sub-structural logic sub-structural“Insofar as logicians are concerned with the
formulation of very general patterns of VALID INFERENCE (“… yields…”) the
formal device (“p . q”) possesses a decisive advantage over their natural
counterpart (“p and q.”) For it will be possible to construct in terms of the
formal device (“p . q”) a system of very general formulas, a considerable
number of which can be regarded as, or are closely related to, a pattern of
inferences the expression of which involves the device.”“Such a system may
consist of a certain set of simple formulas that MUST BE ACCEPTABLE if the
device has the MEANING (or sense) that has been ASSIGNED to it, and an
indefinite number of further formulas, many of them less obviously acceptable
(“q . p”), each of which can be shown to be acceptable if the members of the
original set are acceptable.”“We have, thus, a way of handling dubiously acceptable
patterns of inference (“q. p,” therefore, “p. q”) and if, as is sometimes
possible, we can apply A DECISION PROCEDURE, we have an even better
way.”“Furthermore, from a PHILOSOPHICAL point of view, the possession by the
natural counterpart (“p and q”) of that element in their meaning (or sense),
which they do NOT share with the corresponding formal device, is to be regarded
as an IMPERFECTION; the element in question is an undesirable excrescence. For
the presence of this element has the result that the CONCEPT within which it
appears cannot be precisely/clearly defined, and that at least SOME statements
involving it cannot, in some circumstances, be assigned a definite TRUTH VALUE;
and the indefiniteness of this concept is not only objectionable in itself but
leaves open the way to METAPHYSICS: we cannot be certain that the
natural-language expression (“p and q”) is METAPHYSICALLY ‘LOADED.’”“For these
reasons, the expression, as used in natural speech (“p and q”), CANNOT be
regarded as finally acceptable, and may tum out to be, finally, not fully
intelligible.” “The proper course is to conceive and begin to construct an
IDEAL language, incorporating the formal device (“p . q”), the sentences of
which will be clear, determinate in TRUTH-VALUE, and certifiably FREE FROM
METAPHYSICAL IMPLICATIONS.”“The foundations of SCIENCE will now be
PHILOSOPHICALLY SECURE, since the statements of the scientist will be
EXPRESSIBLE (though not necessarily actually expressed) within this ideal
language.”What kind of enrichment are we talking
about? It may be understood as a third conjunct ptn-l & qtn
& (tn > tn-l) FIRST
CONJUNCT + SECOND CONJUNCT + “TEMPORAL SUCCESSION” p AND THEN q To
buttress the buttressing of ‘and,’ Grice uses ‘weak’ and ‘strong’ for other
operators like ‘disjunction – and his rationale for the Modified Occam’s razor
would be: “A STRONGER SENSE for a truth-functional dyadic operator SHOULD NOT
BE POSTULATED when A WEAK (or minimal) SENSE does, provided we add the
CANCELLABLE IMPLICATURUM.” Grice SIMPLIFIES semantics, but there’s no free
lunch, since he now has to explain how the IMPLICATURUM arises. Let’s revise the way “and,” the first ‘dyadic’ device in
“Logic and Conversation,” is invoked by Grice in “Prolegomena.” “He got into
bed and took his clothes off,” “said of a someone who took his clothes off and
got into bed.” Cfr. theorems ∧I
= ` ∀ φ ψ• [φ; ψ] |= φ ∧
ψ ∧E = ` ∀
φ ψ• ([φ ∧ ψ] |= φ) ∧ ([φ ∧
ψ] |= ψ)We have: He got into bed and took his clothes off (Grice, 1989:9). He took his clothes off and got into bed (Grice, 1989:9). He got into bed and took his clothes off but I don’t want to
suggest that he did those things in that order (Grice, 1981:186). He first took his clothes off and then got into bed (Grice
1989:9). In invoking Strawson’s Introduction to Logical Theory, is Grice being
fair? Strawson had noted, provocatively: “[The formula] “p . q’ is
logically equivalent to ‘q . p’; but [the English] ‘They got married and had a
child’ or ‘He set to work and found a job’ are by no means logically equivalent
to ‘They had a child and got married’ or ‘He found a job and set to work.’”How
easier things would have gone should Strawson have used the adjective
‘pragmatic’ that he mentions later in his treatise in connection with Grice. Strawson
is sticking with the truth-functionality and thinking of ‘equivalence’ in terms
of ‘iff’ – but his remark may be rephrased as involving a notion of
‘inference.’ In terms of LOGICAL INFERENCE, the premise “He got into bed and
took his clothes off” YIELDS “He took off his clothes and got into bed,” even
if that does NOT ‘yield’ in terms of ceteris paribus PRAGMATIC inference. It
would have pleased Grice to read the
above as: “[The formula] “p . q’ is
equivalentL to ‘q . p’; but [the English] ‘They got married and had
a child’ or ‘He set to work and found a job’ are by no means equivalentP
to ‘They had a child and got married’ or ‘He found a job and set to work.’” By appealing to a desideratum of rational co-operative
discourse, “be orderly,” Grice thinks he can restore “and” to its
truth-functional sense, while granting that the re-inforced “then” (or an
alleged extra sense of “temporal succession,” as he has it in “Prolegomena”) is
merely and naturally (if cancellable on occasion) conversationally implicated
(even if under a generalised way) under the assumption that the addressee A
will recognise that the utterer U is observing the desideratum, and is being
orderly. But witness variants to the cancellation (3) above. There is an indifferent,
indeterminate form: He got into bed and took off his clothes, though I don’t
mean to imply that he did that in that order.versus the less indeterminate He
got into bed and took his clothes off, but not in that order. +> i.e. in the
reverse one.Postulating a pragmatic desideratum allows Grice to keep any
standard sub-structural classical rule for “and” and “&” (as s he does when
he goes more formalist in “Vacuous Names,” his tribute to Quine).How are to
interpret the Grice/Strawson ‘rivalry’ in meta-inference? Using Frege’s
assertion “⊦LK” as our operator to read “… yields…” we have:p & q ⊦LK q & p and q & p ⊦LK p & q. In
“Prolegomena,” then, Grice introduces:“B. Examples involve an area of special
interest to me [since he was appointed logic tutor at St. John’s], namely
that of expressions which are candidates for being natural analogues to logical
constants and which may, or may not, ‘diverge’ in meaning [not use] from the
related constants (considered as elements in a classical logic, standardly
interpreted). It has, for example, been suggested that because it would be
incorrect or inappropriate [or misleading, even false?] to say “He got into bed
and took off his clothes” of [someone] who first took off his clothes and then
got into bed, it is part of the meaning [or sense] or part of one meaning
[sub-sense] of “and” to convey temporal succession” (Grice 1989:8). The
explanation in terms of a reference to “be orderly” is mentioned in
“Presupposition and conversational implicaturum” (Grice 1981:186). Grice notes: “It
has been suggested by [an informalist like] Strawson, in [An] Introduction to
Logical Theory [by changing the title of Strawson’s essay, Grice seems to be
implicating that Strawson need not sound pretentious] that there is a
divergence between the ordinary use or meaning of ‘and’ and the conjunction
sign [“.”] of propositional or predicate calculus because “He took off his
clothes and got into to bed” does not seem to have the same meaning as “He got
into bed and took off his clothes.”” Grice goes on: “[Strawson’s] suggestion here is, of course, that, in order properly
to represent the ordinary use of [the
word] “and,” one would have to allow a special sense (or sub-sense) for [the word] “and” which contained
some reference to the idea that what was
mentioned before [the word] “and” was temporally prior to what was mentioned
after it, and that, on that supposition,
one could deal with this case.”Grice goes on: “[Contra Strawson,] I want to
suggest in reply that it is not necessary
[call him an Occamist, minimalist] if one operates on some general principle
[such as M. O. R., or Modified Occam’s Razor] of keeping down, as far as possible, the number of special sense
[sic] of words that one has to invoke, to give countenance to the
alleged divergence of meaning.” The
constraint is not an arbitrary assignation of sense, but a rational one derived
from the nature of conversation:“It is just that there is a general supposition
[which would be sub-sidiary to the general maxim of Manner or ‘Modus’ (‘be
perspicuous! [sic]’) that one presents one's material in an orderly manner and, if what one is engaged upon is a narration (if
one is talking about events), then the
most orderly manner for a narration of events is an order that corresponds to the order in which they took
place.”Grice concludes: “So, the meaning of the expression ‘He took off his
clothes and he got into bed” and the
corresponding expression with a [classical] logician's constant
"&" [when given a standard two-valued interpretation] (i.e. “He took his clothes off & he got into
bed") would be exactly the same.”Grice’s
indifference with what type of formalism to adopt is obvious: “And, indeed, if
anybody actually used in ordinary speech the "&" as a piece of vocabulary instead of as a formal(ist)
device, and used it to connect together sentences of this type, they would collect just the same
[generalised conversational] implicatura as the ordinary English sentences have without any extra explanation
of the meaning of the word ‘and’.” It is
then that Grice goes on to test the ‘cancellability,’ producing the
typical Gricean idiom, above:He took his
clothes off and got into bed but I don't mean to suggest that he did those
things in that order. Grice goes on: “I
should say that I did suggest, in [my essay] on implicaturum, two sorts of tests by which one might hope to identify a conversational implicaturum.
[...] I did not mean to suggest that these tests were final, only that they
were useful. One test was the possibility of cancellation; that is to say,
could one without [classical] logical absurdity [when we have a standard
two-valued interpretation], attach a cancellation clause. For instance, could I
say (9)?” Grice: “If that is not a linguistic offense [and ‘false’], or does
not seem to be, then, so far as it goes, it is an indication that what one has
here is a conversational implicaturum, and that the original [alleged meaning,
sense, or] suggestion of temporal succession [is] not part of the conventional
meaning of the sentence.” Grice (1981, p. 186). Formalising the temporal succession
is never enough but it may help, and (9) becomes (10):p & q and ptn-l &
qtn where “tn-l” is a temporal index
for a time prior to “tn”. It is interesting to note that Chomsky, of all
people, in 1966, a year before Grice’s William James lectures, in Aspects of
the theory of syntax refers to “A [sic] P. Grice” as propounding that temporal
succession be considered implicaturum (Since this pre-dates the William James
lectures by a year, it was via the seminars at Oxford that reached Chomsky at
MIT via some of Grice’s tutees).Let us revise Urmson’s wording in his treatment
of the ‘clothes’ example, to check if Grice is being influenced by Urmson’s
presentation of the problem to attack Strawson. Urmson notes: “In
formal[ist] logic, the connective[…] ‘and’ [is] always given a minimum
[empoverished] meaning, as [I] have done above, such that any complex
[molecular sentence] formed by the use of [it] alone is [always] a
truth-function of its constituents.”Urmson goes on to sound almost like
Strawson, whose Introduction to Logical Theory he credits. Urmson notes: “In
ordinary discourse the connective[… ‘and]] often [has] a *richer* meaning.”Urmson
must be credited, with this use of ‘richer’ as the father of pragmatic
enRICHment!Urmson goes on: “Thus ‘He took his clothes off and got into bed’
implies temporal succession and has a different meaning from [the impoverished,
unreinforced] ‘He got into bed and took off his clothes.’” Urmson does not play
with Grice’s reinforcement: “He first got into bed and then took his clothes
off.’ Urmson goes on, however, in his concluding remark, to side with Grice
versus Strawson, as he should! Urmson notes: “[Formal(ist) l]ogicians would
justify their use of the minimum [impoverished, unreinforced, weak] meaning by
pointing out that it is the common element in all our uses [or every use] of
‘and.’” (Urmson, 1956:9-10). The
commutativeness of ‘and’ in the examples he gives is rejected by Strawson. How
does Strawson reflect this in his sub-structural rule for ‘and’?
As Humberstone puts it, “It
is possible to define a version of the calculus, which defines most of the
syntax of the logical operators by means of axioms, and which uses only one
inference rule.”Axioms: Let φ, χ and ψ stand for
well-formed formulae. The wff's themselves would not contain any Greek letters,
but only capital Roman letters, connective operators, and parentheses. The
axioms include:ANDFIRST-CONJUNCT: φ ∧ χ → φ and ANDSECOND-CONJUNCT:
φ ∧ χ → χ. Our (13) and (14) correspond to
Gentzen’s “conjunction elimination” (or (& -), as Grice has it in “Vacuous
Names.”). The relation between (13) and
(14) reflects the commutativity of the conjunction operator. Cfr. Cohen 1971: “Another conversational maxim of Grice's,
“be orderly”, is intended to govern such matters as the
formalist can show that it was not appropriate to postulate a special non-commutative temporal
conjunction.”“The locus classicus for complaints of this nature being Strawson (1952).”
Note that the commutative “and” is derived from Grice’s elimination of
conjunction, “p & q ⊦
p” and “p & q ⊦ q
-- as used by Grice in his system Q.Also note that the truth-evaluation would
be for Grice ‘semantic,’ rather than ‘syntactic’ as the commutative (understood
as part of elimination). Grice has it as: If phi and psi are formulae, “φ and ”
is 1 iff both φ and ψ are true, 0 otherwise. Grice grants
that however “baffling” (or misleading) would be to utter or assert (7)
if no one has doubts about the
temporal order of the reported the events, due to the expectation that the
utterer is observing the conversational maxim “be orderly” subsumed under the
conversational category of ‘Modus’ (‘be perspicuous! [sic]” – cfr. his earlier
desideratum of conversational clarity). Relevant logic (which was emerging by
the time Grice was delivering his William James lectures) introduces two
different formal signs for ‘conjunction’: the truth-functional conjunction
relevant logicians call ‘extensional’ conjunction, and they represent by (13).
Non-truth-functional conjunction is represented by ‘X’ and termed fusion or
‘intensional’ conjunction:
p ^ q versus p X q.
The truth-table for Strawson’s enriched uses of
“and” is not the standard one, since we require the additional condition that
“p predates q,” or that one conjunct predates the other. Playing with structural and substructural logical rules is
something Carnap would love perhaps more than Grice, and why not, Strawson?
They liked to play with ‘deviant’ logics. For Carnap, the choice of a logic is
a pragmatic ‘external’ decision – vide his principle of tolerance and the
rather extensive bibliography on Carnap as a logic pluralist. For Grice,
classical logic is a choice guided by his respect for ordinary language, WHILE
attempting to PROVOKE the Oxonian establishment by rallying to the defense of
an under-dogma and play the ‘skilful heretic’ (turning a heterodoxy into
dogma). Strawson is usually more difficult to classify! In his contribution to
Grandy & Warner (1986), he grants that Grice’s theory may be ‘more
beautiful,’ and more importantly, seems to suggest that his view be seen as
endorsing Grice’s account of a CONVENTIONAL implicaturum (For Strawson, ‘if’
(used for unasserted antecedent and consequence) conventionally implicates the
same inferrability condition that ‘so’ does for asserted equivalents. The
aim is to allow for a logically pluralist thesis, almost alla Carnap about the
‘inferential role’ of a logical constant such as ‘and’, which embraces
‘classical,’ (or ‘formalist,’ or ‘modernist’), relevant, linear and ordered
logic. PLURALISM (versus MONISM) has it that, for any logical constant c (such as “and”), “c” has more
than one *correct* inferential “role.” The pluralist thesis depends on a
specific interpretation of the vocabulary of sub-structural logics. According
to this specific interpretation, a classical logic captures the literal, or
EXPLICIT, explicatum, or truth-functional or truth-conditonal meaning, or what
Grice would have as ‘dictiveness’ of a logical constant. A sub-structural logic
(relevant logic, linear and ordered logic), on the other hand, encodes a
pragmatically,” i.e. not SEMANTICALLY, “-enriched sense” of a logical constant
such as “and.” Is this against the spirit of Grice’s overall thesis as
formulated in his “M. O. R.,” Modified Occam’s Razor, “Senses [of ‘and’] are
not to be multiplied beyond necessity”? But it’s precisely Grice’s Occamism (as
Neale calls it) that is being put into question. At Oxford, at the time, EVERYBODY (except
Grice!) was an informalist. He is coming to the defense of Russell, Oxford’s
underdog! (underdogma!). Plus, it’s important to understand the INFORMALISM
that Grice is attacking – Oxford’s ORTHO-doxy – seriously. Grice is being the
‘skilful HERETIC,’ in the words of his successor as Tutorial Fellow at Oxford,
G. P. Baker. We may proceed by four stages.
First, introduce the philosophical motivation for the pluralist thesis.
It sounds good to be a PLURALIST. Strawson was not. He was an informalist.
Grice was not, he was a post-modernist. But surely we not assuming that one
would want to eat the cake and have it! Second, introduce the calculus for the
different (or ‘deviant,’ as Haack prefers) logics endorsed in the pluralist
thesis – classical itself, relevant, linear and ordered logic. Third, shows how
the different “behaviours” of an item of logical vocabulary (such as “and”) of
each of these logics (and they all have variants for ‘conjunction.’ In the case
of ‘relevant’ logic, beyond Grice’s “&,” or classical conjunction, there is
“extensional conjunction,” FORMALISED as “p X q”, or fusion, and “INTENSIONAL
conjunction,” formalized by “p O q”. These can be, not semantically
(truth-functionally, or truth-conditional, or at the level of the EXPLICATUM),
but pragmatically interpreted (at the level of the IMPLICATURUM). Fourth, shows
how the *different* (or ‘deviant,’ or pluralist), or alternative inferential
“roles” (that justifies PLURALISM) that *two* sub-structural logics (say,
Grice’s classical “&” the Strawson’s informalist “and”) attribute to a
logical constant “c” can co-exist – hence pluralism. A particular version of
logical “pluralism” can be argued from the plurality of at least *two*
alterative equally legitimate formalisations of the logical vocabulary, such as
the first dyadic truth-functor, or connective, “and,” which is symbolized by Grice
as “&,” NOT formalized by Strawson (he sticks with “and”) and FORMALISED by
relevant logicians as ‘extensional’ truth-functional conjunction (fision, p X
a) and intentional non-truth-functional conjunction (p O q). In particular, it can be argued that the
apparent “rivalry” between classical logic (what Grice has as Modernism, but he
himself is a post-modernist) and relevant logic (but consider Grice on
Strawson’s “Neo-Traditionalism,” first called INFORMALISM by Grice) can be
resolved, given that both logics capture and formalise normative and legitimate
alternative senses of ‘logical consequence.’ A revision of
the second paragraph to “Logic and Conversation” should do here. We can
distinguish between two operators for “… yields …”: ├ and ├: “A1, A2, … An├MODERNISM/FORMALISM-PAUL B” and “A1, A2, … An├NEO-TRADITIONALISM/INFORMALISM-PETER
B. As Paoli has it: “[U]pholding weakening amounts to failing to
take at face value the [slightly Griceian] expression ‘assertable on the basis
of’.’”Paoli goes on:“If I am in a
position to assert [the conclusion q, “He took his clothes off and got into
bed”] on the basis of the information provided by [the premise p, “He got into
bed and took his clothes off”], I need NOT be in a position to assert the
conclusion P [“He took his clothes off and got into bed”] on the basis of both
p (“He got into bed and took off his clothes” and an extra premise C - where C
is just an idle assumption (“The events took place in the order reported”) ,
irrelevant to my conclusion.”Can we regard Strawson as holding that
UNFORMALISED “and” is an INTENSIONAL CONJUNCTION? Another option is to see
Strawson as holding that the UNFORMALISED “and” can be BOTH truth-functional
and NON-truth-functional (for which case, the use of a different expression,
“and THEN,” is preferred). The Gricean theory of implicaturum is capable of
explaining this mismatch (bewtween “and” and “&”).Grice argues that the
[truth-conditional, truth-functional] semantics [DICTUM or EXPLICATUM, not IMPLICATURUM
– cfr. his retrospective epilogue for his view on DICTIVENESS] of “and”
corresponds [or is identical, hence the name of ‘identity’ thesis versus
‘divergence’ thesis] to the classical “∧,” & of Russell/Whitehead,
and Quine, and Suppes, and that the [truth-functional semantics of “if [p,]
[q]” corresponds to the classical p ⊃ q.” There is scope
for any theory capable of resolving or [as Grice would have it] denying the
apparent disagreement [or ‘rivalry’] among two or more logics.” What Grice does
is DENY THE APPARENT DISAGREEMENT. It’s
best to keep ‘rivalry’ for the fight of two ‘warring camps’ like FORMALISM and
INFORMALISM, and stick with ‘disagreement’ or ‘divergence’ with reference to
specific constants. For Strawson, being a thorough-bred Oxonian, who perhaps
never read the Iliad in Greek – he was Grice’s PPE student – the RIVALRY is not
between TWO different formalisations, but between the ‘brusque’ formalisation
of the FORMALISTS (that murder his English!) and NO FORMALISATION at all. Grice
calls this ‘neo-traditionalist,’ perhaps implicating that the
‘neo-traditionalists’ WOULD accept some level of formalisation (Aristotle did!)
ONLY ONE FORMALISATION, the Modernism. INFORMALISM or Neo-Traditionalism aims
to do WITHOUT formalisation, if that means using anything, but, say, “and” and
“and then”. Talk of SENSES helps. Strawson may say that “and” has a SENSE which
differs from “&,” seeing that he would find “He drank the poison and died,
though I do not mean to imply in that order” is a CONTRADICTION. That is why
Strawson is an ‘ordinary-LANGUAGE philosopher,” and not a logician! (Or should
we say, an ‘ordinary-language logician’? His “Introduction to Logical Theory”
was the mandatory reading vademecum for GENERATIONS of Oxonians that had to
undergo a logic course to get their M. A. Lit. Hum.Then there’s what we can
call “the Gricean picture,” only it’s not too clear who painted it!We may agree
that there is an apparent “mismatch,” as opposed to a perfect “match” that
Grice would love! Grice thought with Russell that grammar is a pretty good
guide to logical form. If the utterer says “and” and NOT “and then,” there is
no need to postulate a further SENSE to ‘and.’Russell would criticize
Strawson’s attempt to reject modernist “&” as a surrogate for “and” as
Strawson’s attempt to regress to a stone-age metaphysics. Grice actually at
this point, defended Strawson: “stone-age PHYSICS!” And this relates to “…
yields…” and Frege’s assertion “/-“ as ‘Conclusion follows from Premise’ where
‘Premise yields Conclusion’ seems more natural in that we preserve the order
from premise to conclusion. We shouldn’t underestimate one crucial feature of
an implicaturum: its cancellability, on which Grice expands quite a bit in
1981: “He got into bed and took his clothes off, although I don’t intend to
suggest, in any shape or form, that he proceed to do those things in the order
I’ve just reported!”The lack of any [fixed, rigid, intolerant] structural rule
implies that AN INSTANCE I1 of the a logical constant (such as “and”) that
*violate* any of Grice’s conversational maxim (here “be orderly!”) associated
with the relevant structural rule [here we may think of ADDITION AND
SIMPLIFICATION as two axioms derived from the Gentzen-type elimination of
“and”, or the ‘interpretation’ of ‘p & q’ as 1 iff both p and q are 1, but
0 otherwise] and for which the derived conversational implicaturum is false
[“He went to bed and took his clothes off, but not in that order!”] should be
distinguished from ANY INSTANCE I2 that does NOT violate the relevant maxim (“be
orderly”) and for which the conversational IMPLICATURUM (“tn > tn-l”) is
true.” We may nitpick here.Grice would rather prefer, ‘when the IMPLICATURUM
applies.” An implicaturum is by definition cancellable (This is clear when
Grice expands in the excursus “A causal theory of perception.” “I would hardly
be said to have IMPLIED that Smith is hopeless in philosophy should I utter,
“He has beautiful handwriting; I don’t mean to imply he is hopeless in
philosophy,” “even if that is precisely what my addressee ends up thinking!”When
it comes to “and,” we are on clearer ground. The kinds of “and”-implicaturums
may be captured by a distinction of two ‘uses’ of conjunctions in a single
substructural system S that does WITHOUT a ‘structural rule’ such as exchange,
contraction or both. Read, relies, very UNLIKE Strawson, on wo FORMALISATIONS
besides “and” (for surely English “and” does have a ‘form,’ too, pace Strawson)
in Relevant Logic: “p ^ q” and “p X q.” “p
^ q” and “p X q” have each a different inferential role. If the reason the
UTTERER has to assert it – via the DICTUM or EXPLICATUM [we avoid ‘assert’
seeing that we want logical constants to trade on ‘imperative contexts,’ too –
Grice, “touch the beast and it will bite you!” -- is the utterer’s belief that
Smith took his clothes AND THEN got into bed, it would be illegitimate,
unwarranted, stupid, otiose, incorrect, inappropriate, to infer that Smith did
not do these two things in that order upon discovering that he in fact DID
those things in the order reported. The
very discovery that Smith did the things in the order reported would “just
spoil” or unwarrant the derivation that would justify our use of “… yields …”
(¬A ¬(A u B) A ¬B”). As Read notes, we have ADJUNCTION
‘p and q’ follows from p and q – or p and q yields ‘p and q.’ And we have SIMPLIFICATION:
p and q follow from ‘p and q,’ or ‘p and q’ yields p, and ‘p and q’ yields q.”
Stephen Read: “From adjunction and simplification we can infer, by
transitivity, that q follows from p and q, and so by the Deduction Equivalence,
‘if p, q’ follows from q.’” “However, […] this has the unacceptable consequence
that ‘if’ is truth-functional.” “How can
this consequence be avoided?” “Many options are open.” “We can reject the
transitivity of entailment, the deduction equivalence, adjunction, or
simplification. Each has been tried; and each seems contrary to intuition.” “We
are again in the paradoxical situation that each of these conceptions seems
intuitively soundly based; yet their combination appears to lead to something
unacceptable.” “Are we nonetheless forced to reject one of these plausible
principles?” “Fortunately, there is a fifth option.” Read: “There is a familiar
truth-functional conjunction, expressed by ‘p and q’, which entails each of p
and q, and so for the falsity (Grice’s 0) of which the falsity of either
conjunct suffices, and the truth of both for the truth of the whole.” “But
there is also a NON-truth-functional conjunction, a SENSE of ‘p and q’ whose
falsity supports the inference from p to ‘~q’.” “These two SENSES of
‘conjunction’ cannot be the same, for, if the ground for asserting ‘not-(p and
q)’ (e.g. “It is not the case that he got into bed and took off his clothes”) is
simply that ‘p’ is false, to learn that p is true, far from enabling one to
proceed to ‘~q’, undercuts the warrant for asserting ‘~(p & q)’ in the
first place.” “In this sense, ‘~(p & q)’ is weaker than both ‘~p’ and ‘~q’,
and does not, even with the addition of p, entail ‘~q’, even though one
possible ground for asserting ‘~(p & q))’, viz ‘~q’, clearly does.” Stephen
Read: “The intensional sense of ‘and’ is often referred to as fusion; I will
use the symbol ‘×’ for it. Others write ‘◦.’”We add some relevant observations
by a palaeo-Griceian: Ryle. Ryle often felt
himself to be an outsider. His remarks on “and” are however illuminating in the
context of our discussion of meta-inference in substructural logic.Ryle writes:
“I have spoken as if our ordinary ‘and’ […] [is] identical with the logical
constant with which the formal logician operates.”“But this is not true.”“The
logician’s ‘and’ […] [is] not our familiar civilian term[…].”“It is [a]
conscript term, in uniform and under military discipline, with memories,
indeed, of [its] previous more free and easy civilian life, though it is not
leaving that life now.”“If you hear on good authority that she took arsenic and
fell ill you will reject the rumour that she fell ill and took arsenic.”“This
familiar use of ‘and’ carries with it the temporal notion expressed by ‘and
subsequently’ and even the causal notion expressed by ‘and in
consequence.’”“The logician’s conscript ‘and’ does only its appointed duty – a
duty in which ‘she took arsenic and fell ill’ is an absolute paraphrase of ‘she
fell ill and took arsenic.’ This might be call the minimal force of ‘and.’”
(Ryle,, 1954:118). When we speaks of PRAGMATIC enrichment, we obviously
don’t mean SEMANTIC enrichment. There is a distinction, obviously, between the ‘pragmatic
enrichment’ dimension, as to whether the ‘enriched’ content is IMPLICATED or,
to use a neologism, ‘EX-plicated.’ Or cf. as Kent Bach would prefer,
“IMPLICITATED” (vide his “Implciture.”) Commutative
law: p & q iff q & p. “Axiom AND-1” and “Axiom AND-2” correspond
to "conjunction elimination". The relation between “AND-1” and
“AND-2” reflects the commutativity of the conjunction operator. A VERY IMPORTANT POINT to consider is Grice’s
distinction between ‘logical inference’ and ‘pragmatic inference.’ He does so
in “Retrospective Epilogue” in 1987. “A few years after the appearance of […]
Introduction to Logical Theory, I was devoting much attention to what might be
loosely called the distinction between logical and pragmatic inferences. …
represented as being a matter not of logical but of pragmatic import.” (Grice
1987:374).Could he be jocular? He is emphasizing the historical role of his
research. He mentions FORMALISM and INFORMALISM and notes that his own interest
in maxims or desiderata of rational discourse arose from his interest to
distinguish between matters of “logical inference” from those of “pragmatic
inference.” Is Grice multiplying ‘inference’ beyond necessity? It would seem
so. So it’s best to try to reformulate his proposal, in agreement with logical
pluralism.By ‘logical inference’ Grice must mean ‘practical/alethic
satisfactoriness-based inference,’ notably the syntactics and semantics
(‘interpretative’) modules of his own System Q. By ‘pragmatic inference’ he
must mean a third module, the pragmatic module, with his desiderata. We may say
that for Grice ‘logical inference’ is deductive (and inductive), while
‘pragmatic inference’ is abductive. Let us apply this to the ‘clothes off’
exampleThe Utterer said: “Smith got into bed and took his clothes off, but I’m
reporting the events in no particular order.” The ‘logical inference’ allows to
treat ‘and’ as “&.” The ‘pragmatic inference’ allows the addressee to
wonder what the utterer is meaning! Cf. Terres on “⊢k” for “logical inference” and “⊢r,” “⊢l,” and “⊢o,” for pragmatic inference, and where the
subscripts “k,” “r,” “l” and “o” stand for ‘classical,’ ‘relevant,’ ‘linear’
and ‘ordered’ logic respectively, with each of the three sub-structural
notions of “follows from” or “… yields …”
require the pragmatic enrichment
of a logical constant, that ‘classical logical’ inference may retain the
‘impoverished’ version (Terres, 2019, Inquiry, p. 13). Grice himself
mentions this normative dimension: “I would like to be able to
think of the standard type of conversational practice not merely
as something that all or most do IN FACT follow but as something that it is REASONABLE
for us to follow, that we SHOULD NOT abandon.”Grice, 1989a, p.48]However, the
fact that we should observe the conversational maxims may not yet be a reason
for endorsing the allegedly ‘deviant’
inferential role of a logical constant in the three sub-structural logics under
examination.The legitimacy of the ‘deviant’ ‘inferential role’ of each constant
in each sub-structural logic emerges, rather from at least two sources.A first
source is a requirement for logic (or reasoning) to be normative: that its
truth-bearers [or satisfactoriness-bearers, to allow for ‘imperative’-mode
inferences) are related to what Grice calls ‘psychological attitudes’ of
‘belief’ (indicative-mode inference) and ‘desire’ (imperative-mode inference)
(Grice, 1975, cfr. Terres, Inquiry, 2019, p. 13). As Steinberg puts it:“Presumably,
if logic is normative for thinking or reasoning, its normative force will stem,
at least in part, from the fact that truth bearers which act as the relata of
our consequence relation and the bearers of other logical properties are
identical to (or at least are very closely related in some other way) to the
objects of thinking or reasoning: the contents of one’s mental states or acts
such as the content of one’s beliefs or inferences, for example.”[Steinberger,
2017a – and cf. Loar’s similar approach when construing Grice’s maxims as
‘empirical generalisations’ of ‘functional states’ for a less committed view of
the embedding of logical and pragmatic inference within the scope of psychological-attitude
ascriptions). A second source for the legitimacy of the ‘deviant’ inferential
role is the fact that the pragmatic enrichment of the logical vocabulary (both
a constant and ‘… yields …) is part, or a ‘rational-construction,’ of our
psychological representation of certain utterances involving the natural
counterparts of those constants. This may NOT involve a new sense of ‘and’ which is
with what Grice is fighting. While the relevant literature emphasizes “reasons
to assert” (vide Table on p. 9, Terres, 2019), it is worth pointing out that
the model should be applicable to what we might broadly construe as ‘deontic’
reasoning (e.g. Grice on “Arrest the intruder!” in Grice 1989, and more
generally his practical syllogisms in Grice 2001). We seem to associate
“assert” with ‘indicative-mode’ versions only of premise and conclusion.
“Reasons to express” or “reasons to make it explicit” may serve as a
generalization to cover both “indicative-mode” and “imperative-mode” versions
of the inferences to hand. When Grice says that, contra Strawson, he wants to
see things in terms of ‘pragmatic inference,’ not ‘logical inference,’ is he
pulling himself up by his own bootstraps? Let us clarify.When thinking of what META-language need be used to
formulate both Grice’s final account vis-à-vis Strawson’s, it is relevant to
mention that Grice once invoked what he called the “Bootstrap” principle. In
the course of considering a ‘fine distinction’ in various levels of conceptual
priority, slightly out of the blue, he adds – this is from “Prejudices and
predilections, which become, the life and opinions of Paul Grice,” so expect
some informality, and willingness to amuse: “It is perhaps reasonable to regard
such fine distinctions as indispensable if we are to succeed in the business of
pulling ourselves up by our own bootstraps,” Grice writes. And then trust him
to add: “In this connection, it will be relevant for me to say that I once
invented (though I did not establish its validity) a principle which I labelled
as ‘Bootstrap.’” Trust him to call with a good title. “The principle,” Grice
goes on, “laid down that, when one is introducing some primitive concept [such
as conjunction] of a theory [or calculus or system] formulated in an
object-language [G1], one has freedom to use any concept from a
battery of concepts expressible in the meta-language [System G2],
subject to the condition that a *counterpart* of such a concept [say,
‘conjunction’] is sub-sequently definable, or otherwise derivable, in the
object-language [System G1].”Grice concludes by emphasizing the
point of the manoeuvre: “So, the more
economically one introduces a primitive object-language concept, the less of a
task one leaves oneself for the morrow.” [Grice 1986]. With
uncharacteristic humbleness, Grice notes that while he was able to formulate
and label “Bootstrap,” he never cared to establish its ‘validity.’ We hope we
have! “Q. E. D.,” as they say! Cf. Terres, 2019, Inquiry, p. 17: In conclusion,
the pragmatic interpretation of substructural logics may be a new and
interesting research field for the logical pluralist who wishes to endorse
classical and/or substructural logics, but also for the logical monist who aims
to interpret their divergence with a pluralist logician. The possibility is
also open of an interesting dialogue between philosophical logicians and
philosophers of language as they explore the pragmatic contributions of a logical
constant to the meaning of a complete utterance, given that a substructural
logic encodes what has been discussed by philosophers of language, the enriched
‘explicatum’ of the logical constant. And Grice. References: Werner Abraham, ‘A linguistic approach to metaphor.’ in
Abraham, Ut videam: contributions to an understanding of linguistics. Jeffrey C. Beall
and Greg Restall. ‘Logical consequence,’ in Edward N. Zalta, editor, The
Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Fall 2009 edition, 2009. Rudolf Carnap, 1942. Introduction to Semantics.
L.J. Cohen, 1971. Grice on the logical particles
of natural language, in Bar-Hillel, Pragmatics of Natural language, repr. in
Cohen, Language and knowledge.L.J. Cohen, 1977. ‘Can the conversationalist
hypothesis be defended?’ Philosophical Studies, repr. in Cohen, Logic and
knowledge. Davidson, Donald and J. Hintikka (1969). Words and objections:
essays on the work of W. V. Quine. Dordrecht: Reidel. Bart Geurts, Quantity implicaturums.Bart
Geurts and Nausicaa Pouscoulous. Embedded implicaturums?!? Semantics and
pragmatics, 2:4–1, 2009.Jean-Yves Girard. Linear logic: its syntax and
semantics. London Mathematical Society Lecture Note Series, pp. 1–42, 1995.H.P.
Grice. 1967a. ‘Prolegomena,’ in Studies in the Way of Words.H.P. Grice. 1967b.
Logic and conversation. Studies in the Way of Words, Harvard University Press,
Cambridge, MA, pages 22–40, 1989.H.P. Grice. 1967c. ‘Indicative conditionals.
Studies in the Way of Words, Harvard University Press, Cambridge, MA, pages
58–85, 1989.H.P. Grice. 1969. ‘Vacuous Names,’
in Words and objections: essays on the work of W. V. Quine, edited by Donald
Davidson and Jaako Hintikka, Dordrecht: Reidel. H.P. Grice, 1981.
‘Presupposition and conversational implicaturum,’ in Paul Cole, Radical Pragmatics,
New York, Academic Press. H.P.
Grice, 1986. ‘Reply to Richards,’ in Philosophical Grounds of Rationality:
Intentions, Categories, Ends, ed. by Richard Grandy and Richard Warner, Oxford:
The Clarendon Press.H.P. Grice. 2001. Aspects of reason, being the John Locke
Lectures delivered at Oxford, Oxford: Clarendon. H.P. Grice, n.d. ‘Entailment,’
The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC MSS 90/135c, The Bancroft Library, University of
California, Berkeley. Loar, B. F. Meaning and mind.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Mates, Benson, Elementary Logic. Oxford:
Clarendon Press.George Myro, 1986. ‘Time and identity,’ in Richard Grandy and
Richard Warner, Philosophical Grounds of Rationality: Intentions, Categories,
Ends. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Francesco Paoli, Substructural logic. Arthur
Pap. 1949. ‘Are all necessary propositions analytic?’, repr. in The limits of
logical empiricism.Peacocke, Christopher A. B. (1976), What is a logical
constant? The Journal of Philosophy.Quine, W. V. O. 1969. ‘Reply to H. P. Grice,’
in Davidson and Hintikka, Words and objections: esssays on the work of W. V.
Quine. Dordrecht: Reidel. Stephen Read, A philosophical approach to inference. A.Rieger, A simple
theory of conditionals. Analysis, 2006.Robert
van Rooij. 2010. ‘Conversational implicaturums,’Gilbert Ryle. 1954. ‘Formal and Informal logic,’ in Dilemmas,
The Tarner Lectures 1953. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, Chapter 8. Florian Steinberger. The normative status
of logic. In Edward N. Zalta, editor, The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy.
Metaphysics Research Lab, Stanford University, spring 2017 edition, 2017.P. F. Strawson (1952). Introduction to Logical Theory.
London: Methuen.P. F. Strawson (1986). ‘‘If’ and ‘⊃’’
R. Grandy and R. O. Warner, Philosophical Grounds of Rationality, Intentions,
Categories, Ends, repr. in his “Entity and Identity, and Other Essays. Oxford:
Clarendon PressJ.O. Urmson. Philosophical analysis: its development between the
two world wars. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1956. R. C. S. Walker. “Conversational
implicaturum,”
in S. W. Blackburn, Meaning, reference, and necessity. Cambridge, Cambridge
University Press, 1975, pp. 133-81A. N. Whitehead and B. A. W. Russell, 1913.
Principia Mathematica. Cambridge University Press.
Conjunctum -- conjunction, the logical operation on a pair of
propositions that is typically indicated by the coordinating conjunction ‘and’.
The truth table for conjunction is Besides ‘and’, other coordinating
conjunctions, including ‘but’, ‘however’, ‘moreover’, and ‘although’, can
indicate logical conjunction, as can the semicolon ‘;’ and the comma ‘,’. conjunction elimination. 1 The argument form
‘A and B; therefore, A or B’ and arguments of this form. 2 The rule of
inference that permits one to infer either conjunct from a conjunction. This is
also known as the rule of simplification or 8-elimination. conjunction introduction. 1 The argument form
‘A, B; therefore, A and B’ and arguments of this form. 2 The rule of inference
that permits one to infer a conjunction from its two conjuncts. This is also
known as the rule of conjunction introduction, 8-introduction, or adjunction. Conjunctum
-- Why Grice used inverse V as symbol for “and” Conjunctum -- De Morgan, A.
prolific British mathematician, logician, and philosopher of mathematics and
logic. He is remembered chiefly for several lasting contributions to logic and
philosophy of logic, including discovery and deployment of the concept of
universe of discourse, the cofounding of relational logic, adaptation of what
are now known as De Morgan’s laws, and several terminological innovations
including the expression ‘mathematical induction’. His main logical works, the
monograph Formal Logic 1847 and the series of articles “On the Syllogism”
184662, demonstrate wide historical and philosophical learning, synoptic
vision, penetrating originality, and disarming objectivity. His relational
logic treated a wide variety of inferences involving propositions whose logical
forms were significantly more complex than those treated in the traditional
framework stemming from Aristotle, e.g. ‘If every doctor is a teacher, then
every ancestor of a doctor is an ancestor of a teacher’. De Morgan’s conception
of the infinite variety of logical forms of propositions vastly widens that of
his predecessors and even that of his able contemporaries such as Boole,
Hamilton, Mill, and Whately. De Morgan did as much as any of his contemporaries
toward the creation of modern mathematical logic. -- De Morgan’s laws, the logical principles -
A 8 B S - A 7 - B, - A 7 B S - A 8 - B, - -A 8 - B S A 7 B, and - - A 7 - B S A
8 B, though the term is occasionally used to cover only the first two. Refs.The main published source is “Studies in the Way of
Words” (henceforth, “WOW”), I (especially Essays 1 and 4), “Presupposition and
conversational implicaturum,” in P. Cole, and the two sets on ‘Logic and
conversation,’ in The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.
connectum – from con-nexus –
nexus is the key – connection – syntagma –syncategoremata – categoremata -- connected,
said of a relation R where, for any two distinct elements x and y of the
domain, either xRy or yRx. R is said to be strongly connected if, for any two
elements x and y, either xRy or yRx, even if x and y are identical. Given the
domain of positive integers, for instance, the relation ‹ is connected, since
for any two distinct numbers a and b, either a ‹ b or b ‹ a. ‹ is not strongly
connected, however, since if a % b we do not have either a ‹ b or b ‹ a. The
relation o, however, is Confucius connected 174 174 strongly connected, since either a o b
or b o a for any two numbers, including the case where a % b. An example of a
relation that is not connected is the subset relation 0, since it is not true
that for any two sets A and B, either A 0 B or B 0 A. connectionism, an approach to modeling
cognitive systems which utilizes networks of simple processing units that are
inspired by the basic structure of the nervous system. Other names for this
approach are neural network modeling and parallel distributed processing. Connectionism
was pioneered in the period 065 by researchers such as Frank Rosenblatt and
Oliver Selfridge. Interest in using such networks diminished during the 0s
because of limitations encountered by existing networks and the growing
attractiveness of the computer model of the mind according to which the mind
stores symbols in memory and registers and performs computations upon them.
Connectionist models enjoyed a renaissance in the 0s, partly as the result of
the discovery of means of overcoming earlier limitations e.g., development of
the back-propagation learning algorithm by David Rumelhart, Geoffrey Hinton,
and Ronald Williams, and of the Boltzmann-machine learning algorithm by David
Ackley, Geoffrey Hinton, and Terrence Sejnowski, and partly as limitations
encountered with the computer model rekindled interest in alternatives.
Researchers employing connectionist-type nets are found in a variety of
disciplines including psychology, artificial intelligence, neuroscience, and
physics. There are often major differences in the endeavors of these
researchers: psychologists and artificial intelligence researchers are
interested in using these nets to model cognitive behavior, whereas
neuroscientists often use them to model processing in particular neural systems.
A connectionist system consists of a set of processing units that can take on
activation values. These units are connected so that particular units can
excite or inhibit others. The activation of any particular unit will be
determined by one or more of the following: inputs from outside the system, the
excitations or inhibitions supplied by other units, and the previous activation
of the unit. There are a variety of different architectures invoked in
connectionist systems. In feedforward nets units are clustered into layers and
connections pass activations in a unidirectional manner from a layer of input
units to a layer of output units, possibly passing through one or more layers
of hidden units along the way. In these systems processing requires one pass of
processing through the network. Interactive nets exhibit no directionality of
processing: a given unit may excite or inhibit another unit, and it, or another
unit influenced by it, might excite or inhibit the first unit. A number of
processing cycles will ensue after an input has been given to some or all of
the units until eventually the network settles into one state, or cycles
through a small set of such states. One of the most attractive features of
connectionist networks is their ability to learn. This is accomplished by
adjusting the weights connecting the various units of the system, thereby
altering the manner in which the network responds to inputs. To illustrate the
basic process of connectionist learning, consider a feedforward network with just
two layers of units and one layer of connections. One learning procedure
commonly referred to as the delta rule first requires the network to respond,
using current weights, to an input. The activations on the units of the second
layer are then compared to a set of target activations, and detected
differences are used to adjust the weights coming from active input units. Such
a procedure gradually reduces the difference between the actual response and
the target response. In order to construe such networks as cognitive models it
is necessary to interpret the input and output units. Localist interpretations
treat individual input and output units as representing concepts such as those
found in natural language. Distributed interpretations correlate only patterns
of activation of a number of units with ordinary language concepts. Sometimes
but not always distributed models will interpret individual units as
corresponding to microfeatures. In one interesting variation on distributed
representation, known as coarse coding, each symbol will be assigned to a
different subset of the units of the system, and the symbol will be viewed as
active only if a predefined number of the assigned units are active. A number
of features of connectionist nets make them particularly attractive for
modeling cognitive phenomena in addition to their ability to learn from
experience. They are extremely efficient at pattern-recognition tasks and often
generalize very well from training inputs to similar test inputs. They can
often recover complete patterns from partial inputs, making them good models
for content-addressable memory. Interactive networks are particularly useful in
modeling cognitive tasks in which multiple constraints must be satisfied
simultaneously, or in which the goal is to satisfy competing constraints as
well as possible. In a natural manner they can override some constraints on a
problem when it is not possible to satisfy all, thus treating the constraints
as soft. While the cognitive connectionist models are not intended to model
actual neural processing, they suggest how cognitive processes can be realized
in neural hardware. They also exhibit a feature demonstrated by the brain but
difficult to achieve in symbolic systems: their performance degrades gracefully
as units or connections are disabled or the capacity of the network is
exceeded, rather than crashing. Serious challenges have been raised to the
usefulness of connectionism as a tool for modeling cognition. Many of these
challenges have come from theorists who have focused on the complexities of
language, especially the systematicity exhibited in language. Jerry Fodor and
Zenon Pylyshyn, for example, have emphasized the manner in which the meaning of
complex sentences is built up compositionally from the meaning of components,
and argue both that compositionality applies to thought generally and that it
requires a symbolic system. Therefore, they maintain, while cognitive systems
might be implemented in connectionist nets, these nets do not characterize the
architecture of the cognitive system itself, which must have capacities for
symbol storage and manipulation. Connectionists have developed a variety of
responses to these objections, including emphasizing the importance of
cognitive functions such as pattern recognition, which have not been as
successfully modeled by symbolic systems; challenging the need for symbol
processing in accounting for linguistic behavior; and designing more complex
connectionist architectures, such as recurrent networks, capable of responding
to or producing systematic structures.
connotatum –a variation on
notatum, cf. denotatum -- adnotatum,
annotate -- intension -- connotation. 1 The ideas and associations brought to
mind by an expression used in contrast with ‘denotation’ and ‘meaning’. 2 In a
technical use, the properties jointly necessary and sufficient for the correct
application of the expression in question.
sequentia: consequentia – “In
‘consequentia,’ the ‘con’ is possibly otiose, as cons usually are.” -- consequentialism,
the doctrine that the moral rightness of an act is determined solely by the
goodness of the act’s consequences. Prominent consequentialists include J. S.
Mill, Moore, and Sidgwick. Maximizing versions of consequentialism the most common sort hold that an act is morally right if and only
if it produces the best consequences of those acts available to the agent.
Satisficing consequentialism holds that an act is morally right if and only if
it produces enough good consequences on balance. Consequentialist theories are
often contrasted with deontological ones, such as Kant’s, which hold that the
rightness of an act is determined at least in part by something other than the
goodness of the act’s consequences. A few versions of consequentialism are agentrelative:
that is, they give each agent different aims, so that different agents’ aims
may conflict. For instance, egoistic consequentialism holds that the moral
rightness of an act for an agent depends solely on the goodness of its
consequences for him or her. However, the vast majority of consequentialist
theories have been agent-neutral and consequentialism is often defined in a
more restrictive way so that agentrelative versions do not count as
consequentialist. A doctrine is agent-neutral when it gives to each agent the
same ultimate aims, so that different agents’ aims cannot conflict. For
instance, utilitarianism holds that an act is morally right if and only if it
produces more happiness for the sentient beings it affects than any other act
available to the agent. This gives each agent the same ultimate aim, and so is
agent-neutral. Consequentialist theories differ over what features of acts they
hold to determine their goodness. Utilitarian versions hold that the only
consequences of an act relevant to its goodness are its effects on the
happiness of sentient beings. But some consequentialists hold that the
promotion of other things matters too
achievement, autonomy, knowledge, or fairness, for instance. Thus
utilitarianism, as a maximizing, agent-neutral, happiness-based view is only
one of a broad range of consequentialist theories. consequentia mirabilis, the logical principle
that if a statement follows from its own negation it must be true. Strict
consequentia mirabilis is the principle that if a statement follows logically
from its own negation it is logically true. The principle is often connected
with the paradoxes of strict implication, according to which any statement
follows from a contradiction. Since the negation of a tautology is a contradiction,
every tautology follows from its own negation. However, if every expression of
the form ‘if p then q’ implies ‘not-p or q’ they need not be equivalent, then
from ‘if not-p then p’ we can derive ‘not-not-p or p’ and by the principles of
double negation and repetition derive p. Since all of these rules are
unexceptionable the principle of consequentia mirabilis is also
unexceptionable. It is, however, somewhat counterintuitive, hence the name ‘the
astonishing implication’, which goes back to its medieval discoverers or
rediscoverers.
consistens: in traditional
Aristotelian logic, a semantic notion: two or more statements are called
consistent if they are simultaneously true under some interpretation cf., e.g.,
W. S. Jevons, Elementary Lessons in Logic, 1870. In modern logic there is a
syntactic definition that also fits complex e.g., mathematical theories
developed since Frege’s Begriffsschrift 1879: a set of statements is called
consistent with respect to a certain logical calculus, if no formula ‘P &
P’ is derivable from those statements by the rules of the calculus; i.e., the
theory is free from contradictions. If these definitions are equivalent for a
logic, we have a significant fact, as the equivalence amounts to the
completeness of its system of rules. The first such completeness theorem was
obtained for sentential or propositional logic by Paul Bernays in 8 in his
Habilitationsschrift that was partially published as Axiomatische Untersuchung
des Aussagen-Kalküls der “Principia Mathematica,” 6 and, independently, by Emil
Post in Introduction to a General Theory of Elementary Propositions, 1; the
completeness of predicate logic was proved by Gödel in Die Vollständigkeit der
Axiome des logischen Funktionenkalküls, 0. The crucial step in such proofs
shows that syntactic consistency implies semantic consistency. Cantor applied
the notion of consistency to sets. In a well-known letter to Dedekind 9 he
distinguished between an inconsistent and a consistent multiplicity; the former
is such “that the assumption that all of its elements ‘are together’ leads to a
contradiction,” whereas the elements of the latter “can be thought of without
contradiction as ‘being together.’ “ Cantor had conveyed these distinctions and
their motivation by letter to Hilbert in 7 see W. Purkert and H. J. Ilgauds,
Georg Cantor, 7. Hilbert pointed out explicitly in 4 that Cantor had not given
a rigorous criterion for distinguishing between consistent and inconsistent
multiplicities. Already in his Über den Zahlbegriff 9 Hilbert had suggested a
remedy by giving consistency proofs for suitable axiomatic systems; e.g., to
give the proof of the “existence of the totality of real numbers or in the terminology of G. Cantor the proof of the fact that the system of real
numbers is a consistent complete set” by establishing the consistency of an
axiomatic characterization of the reals
in modern terminology, of the theory of complete, ordered fields. And he
claimed, somewhat indeterminately, that this could be done “by a suitable modification
of familiar methods.” After 4, Hilbert pursued a new way of giving consistency
proofs. This novel way of proceeding, still aiming for the same goal, was to
make use of the formalization of the theory at hand. However, in the
formulation of Hilbert’s Program during the 0s the point of consistency proofs
was no longer to guarantee the existence of suitable sets, but rather to
establish the instrumental usefulness of strong mathematical theories T, like
axiomatic set theory, relative to finitist mathematics. That focus rested on
the observation that the statement formulating the syntactic consistency of T
is equivalent to the reflection principle Pra, ‘s’ P s; here Pr is the finitist
proof predicate for T, s is a finitistically meaningful statement, and ‘s’ its
translation into the language of T. If one could establish finitistically the
consistency of T, one could be sure on
finitist grounds that T is a reliable
instrument for the proof of finitist statements. There are many examples of
significant relative consistency proofs: i non-Euclidean geometry relative to
Euclidean, Euclidean geometry relative to analysis; ii set theory with the
axiom of choice relative to set theory without the axiom of choice, set theory
with the negation of the axiom of choice relative to set theory; iii classical
arithmetic relative to intuitionistic arithmetic, subsystems of classical
analysis relative to intuitionistic theories of constructive ordinals. The
mathematical significance of relative consistency proofs is often brought out
by sharpening them to establish conservative extension results; the latter may
then ensure, e.g., that the theories have the same class of provably total
functions. The initial motivation for such arguments is, however, frequently
philosophical: one wants to guarantee the coherence of the original theory on
an epistemologically distinguished basis.
the english
constitution:
an example Grice gives of a ‘vacuous
name’ -- constitution, a relation between concrete particulars including
objects and events and their parts, according to which at some time t, a
concrete particular is said to be constituted by the sum of its parts without
necessarily being identical with that sum. For instance, at some specific time
t, Mt. Everest is constituted by the various chunks of rock and other matter
that form Everest at t, though at t Everest would still have been Everest even
if, contrary to fact, some particular rock that is part of the sum had been
absent. Hence, although Mt. Everest is not identical to the sum of its material
parts at t, it is constituted by them. The relation of constitution figures
importantly in recent attempts to articulate and defend metaphysical
physicalism naturalism. To capture the idea that all that exists is ultimately
physical, we may say that at the lowest level of reality, there are only
microphysical phenomena, governed by the laws of microphysics, and that all
other objects and events are ultimately constituted by objects and events at
the microphysical level.
contactum -- syntactics: cf. para-tactum – a paratactic construction the
Romans called a co-ordinatum, a sub-ordinatum would be hypotaxis. (From syn-
and tassein, from PIE, cognate with ‘tact,’ to touch) -- Being the gentleman he was, Grice takes a
cavlier attitude to ‘syntax’ as something that someone else must give to him,
and right he is. The philosopher should concern with more important issues.
Usually Grice uses ‘unstructured’ to mean ‘syntactically unstructured,’ such as
a handwave. With a handwave, an emissor can
rationally explicate and implicate. vide compositum – Strictly, compositum
translates Grecian synthesis, rather than syntax – which is better phrased as
Latin ‘contactum. Or better combinatum – syntaxis , is, f., = σύνταξις, I.the connection of words, Prisc. 17, 1, 1. When Grice uses ‘unsructured’ he
sometimes expands this into ‘syntactically unstructured.’ Since syntax need not
be linguistic, this is an interesting semiotic perspective by Grice. He is
allowing for compositionality in a semotic system with a comibinatory other
than the first, second, and third articulation. The Latinate is ‘contactum.’
Morris thought he was being bright when he proposed ‘syntactics,’ “long for
syntax,” he wrote. syntax, περὶ τῆς ς. τῶν λεγομένων, title of work by Chrysipp., Stoic.2.6, cf. Plu.2.731f (pl.);
“τὴν ς. τῶν ὀνομάτων” Gal.16.736, cf. 720; περὶ συντάξεως, title of work by A.D.; but also, compound forms, Id.Conj.214.7; ποιεῖσθαι μετά τινος τὴν ς. ib.221.19; also, rule
for combination of sounds or letters, τὸ χ (in δέγμενος)“ εἰς γ μετεβλήθη, τῆς ς. οὕτως ἀπαιτούσης” EM252.45, cf. Luc.Jud. Voc.3; also, connected speech, ἐν τῇ ς. ἐγκλιτέον Sch.Il.16.85.Grice’s presupposition is that a
‘syntactics’ is not enough for a system to be a ‘communication-system’. Nothing
is communicated. With the syntagma, there is no communicatum. Grice loved two
devices of the syntactic kind: subscripts and square brackets (for the
assignment of common-ground status). Grice is a conservative
(dissenting rationalist) when it comes to syntax and semantics. He hardly uses
pragmatics albeit in a loose way (pragmatic import, pragmatic inference), but
was aware of Morriss triangle. Syntax is presented along the lines of
Gentzen, i.e. a system of natural deduction in terms of inference rules of
introduction and elimination for each formal device. Semantics pertains
rather to Witterss truth-values, i.e. the assignment of a satisfactory-valuation:
the true and the good. A syntactic approach to Grice’s System does not require
value-assignment. The system is constructed alla Gentzen with introduction and
elimination rules which are regarded as syntactic in nature. One can easily
check that the rules statedabove adequately characterise the meaning of
classical conjunction which is true iff both conjuncts are true. Hence the
syntactic deducibility relation coincides with the semantic relation of /=
or logical consequence (or entailment). Refs.: The most direct source is “Vacuous
names,” but the keyword ‘syntax’ is helpful. The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.
context: ‘text’ provides a few nice Romanisms – Grice: text,
pre-text, con-text, sub-text --. while Grice jocularly echoes Firth with his
‘context of utterance,’ he thought the theory of context was ‘totally lacking
in context.’ H. P. Grice, “The general theory of context,” -- contextualism,
the view that inferential justification always takes place against a background
of beliefs that are themselves in no way evidentially supported. The view has
not often been defended by name, but Dewey, Popper, Austin, and Vitters are
arguably among its notable exponents. As this list perhaps suggests,
contextualism is closely related to the “relevant alternatives” conception of
justification, according to which claims to knowledge are justified not by
ruling out any and every logically possible way in which what is asserted might
be false or inadequately grounded, but by excluding certain especially relevant
alternatives or epistemic shortcomings, these varying from one context of
inquiry to another. Formally, contextualism resembles foundationalism. But it
differs from traditional, or substantive, foundationalism in two crucial
respects. First, foundationalism insists that basic beliefs be self-justifying
or intrinsically credible. True, for contemporary foundationalists, this
intrinsic credibility need not amount to incorrigibility, as earlier theorists
tended to suppose: but some degree of intrinsic credibility is indispensable
for basic beliefs. Second, substantive foundational theories confine intrinsic
credibility, hence the status of being epistemologically basic, to beliefs of
some fairly narrowly specified kinds. By contrast, contextualists reject all
forms of the doctrine of intrinsic credibility, and in consequence place no
restrictions on the kinds of beliefs that can, in appropriate circumstances,
function as contextually basic. They regard this as a strength of their
position, since explaining and defending attributions of intrinsic credibility
has always been the foundationalist’s main problem. Contextualism is also
distinct from the coherence theory of justification, foundationalism’s
traditional rival. Coherence theorists are as suspicious as contextualists of
the foundationalist’s specified kinds of basic beliefs. But coherentists react
by proposing a radically holistic model of inferential justification, according
to which a belief becomes justified through incorporation into a suitably coherent
overall system of beliefs or “total view.” There are many well-known problems
with this approach: the criteria of coherence have never been very clearly
articulated; it is not clear what satisfying such criteria has to do with
making our beliefs likely to be true; and since it is doubtful whether anyone
has a very clear picture of his system of beliefs as a whole, to insist that
justification involves comparing the merits of competing total views seems to
subject ordinary justificatory practices to severe idealization. Contextualism,
in virtue of its formal affinity with foundationalism, claims to avoid all such
problems. Foundationalists and coherentists are apt to respond that
contextualism reaps these benefits by failing to show how genuinely epistemic
justification is possible. Contextualism, they charge, is finally
indistinguishable from the skeptical view that “justification” depends on
unwarranted assumptions. Even if, in context, these are pragmatically
acceptable, epistemically speaking they are still just assumptions. This
objection raises the question whether contextualists mean to answer the same
questions as more traditional theorists, or answer them in the same way.
Traditional theories of justification are framed so as to respond to highly
general skeptical questions e.g., are we
justified in any of our beliefs about the external world? It may be that
contextualist theories are or should be advanced, not as direct answers to
skepticism, but in conjunction with attempts to diagnose or dissolve
traditional skeptical problems. Contextualists need to show how and why
traditional demands for “global” justification misfire, if they do. If
traditional skeptical problems are taken at face value, it is doubtful whether
contextualism can answer them.
Continens – temperans -- TEMPERANTIA, CONTINENTIA – INCONTINENTIA --
-- egcrateia: or
temperantia. This is a universal. Strictly, it’s the agent who has the power –
Or part of his soul – the rational soul has the power – hence Grice’s metaphor
of the ‘power structure of the soul.’ Grice is interested in the linguistic
side to it. What’s the use of “Don’t p!” if ‘p’ is out of the emissee’s
rational control? Cf. Pears on egcreateia as ‘irrationality,’ if motivated. Cfr
mesotes. the geniality of Grice was to
explore theoretical akrasia. Grice’s genius shows in seeing egcrateia and lack
thereof as marks of virtue. “C hasn’t been to prison yet” He is potentially
dishonest. But you cannot be HONEST if you are NOT potentially DISHONEST. Of
course, it does not paint a good picture of the philosopher why he should be
obsessed with ‘akrasia,’ when Aristotle actually opposed the notion to that of
‘enkrateia,’ or ‘continence.’ Surely a philosopher needs to provide a reductive
analysis of ‘continence,’ first; and the reductive analysis of ‘incontinence’
will follow. Aristotle, as Grice well knew, is being a Platonist here, so by
‘continence,’ he meant a power structure of the soul, with the ‘rational’ soul
containing the pre-rational or non-rational soul (animal soul, and vegetal
soul). And right he was, too! So, Grice's
twist is Έγκράτεια, sic in capitals! Liddell and Scott has it as ‘ἐγκράτεια’ [ρα^], which they render as “mastery
over,” as used by Plato in The Republic: “ἐ. ἑαυτοῦ,” meaning ‘self-control’
(Pl. R.390b; ἐ. ἡδονῶν καὶ ἐπιθυμιῶν control
over them, ib.430e, cf. X.Mem.2.1.1, Isoc.1.21; “περί τι” Arist.EN1149a21, al. Liddell and Scott go on to give a reference to
Grice’s beloved “Eth. Nich.” (1145b8) II. abs., self-control, X. Mem.1.5.1, Isoc.3.44, Arist. EN. 1145b8, al., LXX Si.18.30, Act.Ap. 24.25, etc. Richards, an emotivist, as well as Collingwood
(in “Language”) had made a stereotype of the physicist drawing a formula on the
blackboard. “Full of emotion.” So the idea that there is an UN-emotional life
is a fallacy. Emotion pervades the rational life, as does akrasia. Grice was
particularly irritated by the fact that Davidson, who lacked a background in
the humanities and the classics, could think of akrasia as “impossible”! Grice
was never too interested in emotion (or feeling) because while we do say I feel
that the cat is hungry, we also say, Im feeling byzantine. The concept of
emotion needs a philosophical elucidation. Grice was curious about a linguistic
botany for that! Akrasia for Grice covers both buletic-boulomaic and doxastic
versions. The buletic-boulomaic version may be closer to the concept of an
emotion. Grice quotes from Kennys essay on emotion. But Grice is looking for
more of a linguistic botany. As it happens, Kennys essay has Griceian
implicatura. One problem Grice finds with emotion is that feel that sometimes behaves like thinks that Another is that there is no good Grecian word
for emotio. Kenny, of St. Benets, completed his essay on emotion under
Quinton (who would occasionally give seminars with Grice), and examined by two
members of Grices Play Group: Pears and Gardiner. Kenny connects an emotion to
a feeling, which brings us to Grice on feeling boringly byzantine! Grice
proposes a derivation of akrasia in conditional steps for both
buletic-boulomaic and doxastic akrasia.
Liddell and Scott have “ἐπιθυμία,” which they render as desire,
yearning, “ἐ. ἐκτελέσαι” Hdt.1.32; ἐπιθυμίᾳ by passion, oπρονοίᾳ, generally,
appetite, αἱ κατὰ τὸ σῶμα ἐ. esp. sexual desire, lust, αἱ πρὸς τοὺς παῖδας ἐ.;
longing after a thing, desire of or for it, ὕδατος, τοῦ πιεῖν;” “τοῦ πλέονος;”
“τῆς τιμωρίας;” “τῆς μεθ᾽ ὑμῶν πολιτείας;’ “τῆς παρθενίας;’ “εἰς ἐ. τινὸς
ἐλθεῖν;’ ἐν ἐ. “τινὸς εἶναι;’ “γεγονέναι;” “εἰς ἐ. τινὸς “ἀφικέσθαι θεάσασθαι;”
“ἐ. τινὸς ἐμβαλεῖν τινί;” “ἐ. ἐμποιεῖν ἔς τινα an inclination towards;”
=ἐπιθύμημα, object of desire, ἐπιθυμίας τυχεῖν;” “ἀνδρὸς ἐ., of woman, “πενήτων
ἐ., of sleep. There must be more to emotion, such as philia, than epithumia!
cf. Grice on Aristotle on philos. What is an emotion? Aristotle, Rhetoric
II.1; Konstan “Pathos and Passion” R. Roberts, “Emotion”; W. Fortenbaugh,
Aristotle on Emotion; Simo Knuuttila, Emotions in Ancient and Medieval
Philosophy. Aristotle, Rhet. II.2-12; De An., Eth.N., and Top.; Emotions in
Plato and Aristotle; Philosophy of Emotion; Aristotle and the Emotions, De An.
II.12 and III 1-3; De Mem. 1; Rhet. II.5; Scheiter, “Images, Imagination, and
Appearances, V. Caston, Why Aristotle Needs Imagination” M. Nussbaum,
“Aristotle on Emotions and Rational Persuasion, J. Cooper, “An Aristotelian
Theory of Emotion, G. Striker, Emotions in Context: Aristotles Treatment of the
Passions in the Rhetoric and his Moral Psychology." Essays on Aristotles
Rhetoric (J. Dow, Aristotles Theory of the Emotions, Moral Psychology and Human
Action in Aristotle PLATO. Aristotle, Rhetoric I.10-11; Plato Philebus 31b-50e
and Republic IV, D. Frede, Mixed feelings in Aristotles Rhetoric." Essays
on Aristotles Rhetoric, J. Moss, “Pictures and Passions in Plato”; Protagoras
352b-c, Phaedo 83b-84a, Timaeus 69c STOICS The Hellenistic philosophers; “The
Old Stoic Theory of Emotion” The Emotions in Hellenistic Philosophy, eEmotion
and Peace of Mind: From Stoic Agitation to Christian Temptation, Sorabji,
Chrysippus Posidonius Seneca: A High-Level Debate on Emotion. Nussbaum, The
Therapy of Desire: Theory and Practice in Hellenistic Ethics M. Graver, Preface
and Introduction to Cicero on Emotion: Tusculan Disputations 3 and 4 M. Graver,
Stoicism and emotion. Tusculan Disputations 3 Recommended: Graver, Margaret.
"Philo of Alexandria and the Origins of the Stoic Προπάθειαι."
Phronesis. Tusculan Disputations; "The Stoic doctrine of the affections of
the soul; The Stoic life: Emotions, duties, and fate”; Emotion and decision in
stoic psychology, The stoics, individual emotions: anger, friendly feeling, and
hatred. Aristotle Rhetoric II.2-3; Nicomachean Ethics IV.5; Topics 2.7
and 4.5; Konstan, Anger, Pearson, Aristotle on Desire; Scheiter, Review of
Pearsons Aristotle on Desire; S. Leighton, Aristotles Account of Anger:
Narcissism and Illusions of Self‐Sufficiency: The Complex Evaluative World of Aristotles
Angry Man,” Valuing emotions. Aristotle Rhetoric II. 4; Konstan, “Hatred”
Konstan "Aristotle on Anger and the Emotions: the Strategies of
Status." Ancient Anger: Perspectives from Homer to Galen, C. Rapp, The
emotional dimension of friendship: notes on Aristotles account of philia in
Rhetoric II 4” Grice endeavours to give an answer to the question whether
and to what extent philia (friendship), as it is treated by Aristotle in Rhet.
II.4, can be considered a genuine emotion as, for example, fear and anger are.
Three anomalies are identified in the definition and the account of philia (and
of the associated verb philein), which suggest a negative response to the
question. However, these anomalies are analysed and explained in terms of the
specific notes of philia in order to show that Rhetoric II4 does allow for a
consideration of friendship as a genuine emotion. Seneca, On Anger (De
Ira) Seneca, On Anger Seneca, On Anger (62-96); K. Vogt, “Anger, Present
Injustice, and Future Revenge in Senecas De Ira” FEAR Aristotle, Rhet. II.5;
Nicomachean Ethics III.6-9 Aristotles Courageous Passions, Platos Laws;
“Pleasure, Pain, and Anticipation in Platos Laws, Book I” Konstan, “Fear”
PITY Aristotle, Rhetoric II. 8-9; Poetics, chs. 6, 9-19 ; Konstan, “Pity”
E. Belfiore, Tragic pleasures: Aristotle on plot and emotion, Konstan,
Aristotle on the Tragic Emotions, The Soul of Tragedy: Essays on Athenian
Drama SHAME Aristotle, Rhet. II.6; Nicomachean Ethics IV.9 Konstan, Shame
J. Moss, Shame, Pleasure, and the Divided Soul, B. Williams, Shame and
Necessity. Aristotle investigates two character traits, continence and
incontinence, that are not as blameworthy as the vices but not as praiseworthy
as the virtues. The Grecian expressions are’enkrateia,’ continence, literally
mastery, and krasia (“incontinence”; literally, lack of mastery. An akratic
person goes against reason as a result of some pathos (emotion, feeling”). Like
the akratic, an enkratic person experiences a feeling that is contrary to
reason; but unlike the akratic, he acts in accordance with reason. His defect
consists solely in the fact that, more than most people, he experiences
passions that conflict with his rational choice. The akratic person has not only
this defect, but has the further flaw that he gives in to feeling rather than
reason more often than the average person.
Aristotle distinguishes two kinds of akrasia: “propeteia,” or
impetuosity and “astheneia, or weakness. The person who is weak goes through a
process of deliberation and makes a choice; but rather than act in accordance
with his reasoned choice, he acts under the influence of a passion. By
contrast, the impetuous person does not go through a process of deliberation
and does not make a reasoned choice; he simply acts under the influence of a
passion. At the time of action, the impetuous person experiences no internal
conflict. But once his act has been completed, he regrets what he has done. One
could say that he deliberates, if deliberation were something that post-dated
rather than preceded action; but the thought process he goes through after he
acts comes too late to save him from error.
It is important to bear in mind that when Aristotle talks about
impetuosity and weakness, he is discussing chronic conditions. The impetuous
person is someone who acts emotionally and fails to deliberate not just once or
twice but with some frequency; he makes this error more than most people do.
Because of this pattern in his actions, we would be justified in saying of the
impetuous person that had his passions not prevented him from doing so, he
would have deliberated and chosen an action different from the one he did
perform. The two kinds of passions that
Aristotle focuses on, in his treatment of akrasia, are the appetite for
pleasure and anger. Either can lead to impetuosity and weakness. But Aristotle
gives pride of place to the appetite for pleasure as the passion that
undermines reason. He calls the kind of akrasia caused by an appetite for pleasure
(hedone) “unqualified akrasia”—or, as we might say, akrasia simpliciter, “full
stop.’ Akrasia caused by anger he considers a qualified form of akrasia and
calls it akrasia ‘with respect to anger.’ We thus have these four forms of
akrasia: impetuosity caused by pleasure, impetuosity caused by anger, weakness
caused by pleasure, weakness caused by anger. It should be noticed that
Aristotle’s treatment of akrasia is heavily influenced by Plato’s tripartite
division of the soul. Plato holds that either the spirited part (which houses
anger, as well as other emotions) or the appetitive part (which houses the
desire for physical pleasures) can disrupt the dictates of reason and result in
action contrary to reason. The same threefold division of the soul can be seen
in Aristotles approach to this topic. Although Aristotle characterizes akrasia
and enkrateia in terms of a conflict between reason and feeling, his detailed
analysis of these states of mind shows that what takes place is best described
in a more complicated way. For the feeling that undermines reason contains some
thought, which may be implicitly general. As Aristotle says, anger “reasoning
as it were that one must fight against such a thing, is immediately provoked.
And although in the next sentence he denies that our appetite for pleasure
works in this way, he earlier had said that there can be a syllogism that
favors pursuing enjoyment: “Everything sweet is pleasant, and this is sweet”
leads to the pursuit of a particular pleasure. Perhaps what he has in mind is
that pleasure can operate in either way: it can prompt action unmediated by a
general premise, or it can prompt us to act on such a syllogism. By contrast,
anger always moves us by presenting itself as a bit of general, although hasty,
reasoning. But of course Aristotle does
not mean that a conflicted person has more than one faculty of reason. Rather
his idea seems to be that in addition to our full-fledged reasoning capacity,
we also have psychological mechanisms that are capable of a limited range of
reasoning. When feeling conflicts with reason, what occurs is better described
as a fight between feeling-allied-with-limited-reasoning and full-fledged
reason. Part of us—reason—can remove itself from the distorting influence of
feeling and consider all relevant factors, positive and negative. But another
part of us—feeling or emotion—has a more limited field of reasoning—and
sometimes it does not even make use of it.
Although “passion” is sometimes used as a translation of Aristotles word
pathos (other alternatives are emotion” and feeling), it is important to bear
in mind that his term does not necessarily designate a strong psychological
force. Anger is a pathos whether it is weak or strong; so too is the appetite
for bodily pleasures. And he clearly indicates that it is possible for an
akratic person to be defeated by a weak pathos—the kind that most people would
easily be able to control. So the general explanation for the occurrence of
akrasia cannot be that the strength of a passion overwhelms reason. Aristotle
should therefore be acquitted of an accusation made against him by Austin in a
well-known footnote to ‘A Plea For Excuses.’ Plato and Aristotle, Austin says,
collapsed all succumbing to temptation into losing control of ourselves — a
mistake illustrated by this example. I am very partial to ice cream, and a
bombe is served divided into segments corresponding one to one with the persons
at High Table. I am tempted to help myself to two segments and do so, thus
succumbing to temptation and even conceivably (but why necessarily?) going
against my principles. But do I lose control of myself? Do I raven, do I snatch
the morsels from the dish and wolf them down, impervious to the consternation
of my colleagues? Not a bit of it. We often succumb to temptation with calm and
even with finesse. With this, Aristotle can agree. The pathos for the bombe can
be a weak one, and in some people that will be enough to get them to act in a
way that is disapproved by their reason at the very time of action. What is most remarkable about Aristotle’s
discussion of akrasia is that he defends a position close to that of Socrates.
When he first introduces the topic of akrasia, and surveys some of the problems
involved in understanding this phenomenon, he says that Socrates held that
there is no akrasia, and he describes this as a thesis that clearly conflicts
with the appearances (phainomena). Since he says that his goal is to preserve
as many of the appearances as possible, it may come as a surprise that when he
analyzes the conflict between reason and feeling, he arrives at the conclusion
that in a way Socrates was right after all. For, he says, the person who acts
against reason does not have what is thought to be unqualified knowledge; in a
way he has knowledge, but in a way does not.
Aristotle explains what he has in mind by comparing akrasia to the
condition of other people who might be described as knowing in a way, but not
in an unqualified way. His examples are people who are asleep, mad, or drunk; he
also compares the akratic to a student who has just begun to learn a Subjects,
or an actor on the stage. All of these people, he says, can utter the very
words used by those who have knowledge; but their talk does not prove that they
really have knowledge, strictly speaking.
These analogies can be taken to mean that the form of akrasia that
Aristotle calls weakness rather than impetuosity always results from some
diminution of cognitive or intellectual acuity at the moment of action. The
akratic says, at the time of action, that he ought not to indulge in this
particular pleasure at this time. But does he know or even believe that he
should refrain? Aristotle might be taken to reply: yes and no. He has some
degree of recognition that he must not do this now, but not full recognition.
His feeling, even if it is weak, has to some degree prevented him from
completely grasping or affirming the point that he should not do this. And so
in a way Socrates was right. When reason remains unimpaired and unclouded, its
dictates will carry us all the way to action, so long as we are able to
act. But Aristotles agreement with
Socrates is only partial, because he insists on the power of the emotions to
rival, weaken or bypass reason. Emotion challenges reason in all three of these
ways. In both the akratic and the enkratic, it competes with reason for control
over action; even when reason wins, it faces the difficult task of having to
struggle with an internal rival. Second, in the akratic, it temporarily robs
reason of its full acuity, thus handicapping it as a competitor. It is not
merely a rival force, in these cases; it is a force that keeps reason from
fully exercising its power. And third, passion can make someone impetuous; here
its victory over reason is so powerful that the latter does not even enter into
the arena of conscious reflection until it is too late to influence action.
That, at any rate, is one way of interpreting Aristotle’s statements. But it
must be admitted that his remarks are obscure and leave room for alternative
readings. It is possible that when he denies that the akratic has knowledge in
the strict sense, he is simply insisting on the point that no one should be
classified as having practical knowledge unless he actually acts in accordance
with it. A practical knower is not someone who merely has knowledge of general
premises; he must also have knowledge of particulars, and he must actually draw
the conclusion of the syllogism. Perhaps drawing such a conclusion consists in
nothing less than performing the action called for by the major and minor
premises. Since this is something the akratic does not do, he lacks knowledge;
his ignorance is constituted by his error in action. On this reading, there is
no basis for attributing to Aristotle the thesis that the kind of akrasia he
calls weakness is caused by a diminution of intellectual acuity. His
explanation of akrasia is simply that pathos is sometimes a stronger
motivational force than full-fledged reason.
This is a difficult reading to defend, however, for Aristotle says that
after someone experiences a bout of akrasia his ignorance is dissolved and he
becomes a knower again. In context, that appears to be a remark about the form
of akrasia Aristotle calls weakness rather than impetuosity. If so, he is
saying that when an akratic person is Subjects to two conflicting
influences—full-fledged reason versus the minimal rationality of emotion—his
state of knowledge is somehow temporarily undone but is later restored. Here,
knowledge cannot be constituted by the performance of an act, because that is
not the sort of thing that can be restored at a later time. What can be
restored is ones full recognition or affirmation of the fact that this act has
a certain undesirable feature, or that it should not be performed. Aristotle’s
analysis seems to be that both forms of akrasia — weakness and impetuosity
—share a common structure: in each case, ones full affirmation or grasp of what
one should do comes too late. The difference is that in the case of weakness but
not impetuosity, the akratic act is preceded by a full-fledged rational
cognition of what one should do right now. That recognition is briefly and
temporarily diminished by the onset of a less than fully rational affect. There is one other way in which Aristotle’s
treatment of akrasia is close to the Socratic thesis that what people call
akrasia is really ignorance. Aristotle holds that if one is in the special
mental condition that he calls practical wisdom, then one cannot be, nor will
one ever become, an akratic person. For practical wisdom is present only in
those who also possess the ethical virtues, and these qualities require
complete emotional mastery. Anger and appetite are fully in harmony with
reason, if one is practically wise, and so this intellectual virtue is
incompatible with the sort of inner conflict experienced by the akratic person.
Furthermore, one is called practically wise not merely on the basis of what one
believes or knows, but also on the basis of what one does. Therefore, the sort
of knowledge that is lost and regained during a bout of akrasia cannot be
called practical wisdom. It is knowledge only in a loose sense. The low-level
grasp of the ordinary person of what to do is precisely the sort of thing that
can lose its acuity and motivating power, because it was never much of an
intellectual accomplishment to begin with. That is what Aristotle is getting at
when he compares it with the utterances of actors, students, sleepers, drunks,
and madmen. Grice had witnessed how Hare had suffere to try and deal with how
to combine the geniality that “The language of morals” is with his account of
akrasia. Most Oxonians were unhappy with Hares account of akrasia. Its like, in
deontic logic, you cannot actually deal with akrasia. You need buletics. You
need the desiderative, so that you can oppose what is desired with the duty,
even if both concepts are related. “Akrasia” has a nice Grecian touch about it,
and Grice and Hare, as Lit. Hum., rejoiced in being able to explore what
Aristotle had to say about it. They wouldnt go far beyond Aristotle. Plato and
Aristotle were the only Greek philosophers studied for the Lit. Hum. To venture
with the pre-socratics or the hellenistics (even if Aristotle is one) was not
classy enough! Like Pears in Motivated irrationality, Grice allows that
benevolentia may be deemed beneficentia. If Smith has the good will to give
Jones a job, he may be deemed to have given Jones the job, even if Jones never
get it. In buletic akrasia we must consider the conclusion to be desiring what
is not best for the agents own good, never mind if he refrains from doing what
is not best for his own good. Video meliora proboque deteriora sequor. We
shouldnt be saying this, but we are saying it! Grice prefers akrasia, but
he is happy to use the translation by Cicero, also negative, of this:
incontinentia, as if continentia were a virtue! For Grice, the alleged paradox
of akrasia, both alethic and practical, has to be accounted for by a theory of
rationality from the start, and not be deemed a stumbling block. Grice is
interested in both the common-or-garden buletic-boulomaic version of akrasia,
involving the volitive soul ‒ in term of desirability ‒ and doxastic
akrasia, involing the judicative soul proper ‒ in terms of
probability. Grice considers buletic akrasia and doxastic akrasia ‒ the latter
yet distinct from Moores paradox, p but I dont want to believe that p, in
symbols p and ~ψb-dp. Akarsia, see egcrateia. egcrateia: also spelled acrasia, or akrasia,
Grecian term for weakness of will. Akrasia is a character flaw, also called
incontinence, exhibited primarily in intentional behavior that conflicts with
the agent’s own values or principles. Its contrary is enkrateia strength of
will, continence, self-control. Both akrasia and enkrateia, Aristotle says,
“are concerned with what is in excess of the state characteristic of most
people; for the continent abide by their resolutions more, and the incontinent
less, than most people can” Nicomachean Ethics 1152a2527. These resolutions may
be viewed as judgments that it would be best to perform an action of a certain
sort, or better to do one thing than another. Enkrateia, on that view, is the
power kratos to act as one judges best in the face of competing motivation.
Akrasia is a want or deficiency of such power. Aristotle himself limited the
sphere of both states more strictly than is now done, regarding both as
concerned specifically with “pleasures and pains and appetites and aversions
arising through touch and taste” [1150a910]. Philosophers are generally more
interested in incontinent and continent actions than in the corresponding
states of character. Various species of incontinent or akratic behavior may be
distinguished, including incontinent reasoning and akratic belief formation.
The species of akratic behavior that has attracted most attention is
uncompelled, intentional action that conflicts with a better or best judgment
consciously held by the agent at the time of action. If, e.g., while judging it
best not to eat a second piece of pie, you intentionally eat another piece, you
act incontinently provided that your so
acting is uncompelled e.g., your desire for the pie is not irresistible.
Socrates denied that such action is possible, thereby creating one of the
Socratic paradoxes. In “unorthodox” instances of akratic action, a deed
manifests weakness of will even though it accords with the agent’s better
judgment. A boy who decides, against his better judgment, to participate in a
certain dangerous prank, might owing to
an avoidable failure of nerve fail to
execute his decision. In such a case, some would claim, his failure to act on
his decision manifests weakness of will or akrasia. If, instead, he masters his
fear, his participating in the prank might manifest strength of will, even
though his so acting conflicts with his better judgment. The occurrence of
akratic actions seems to be a fact of life. Unlike many such apparent facts,
this one has received considerable philosophical scrutiny for nearly two and a
half millennia. A major source of the interest is clear: akratic action raises
difficult questions about the connection between thought and action, a
connection of paramount importance for most philosophical theories of the
explanation of intentional behavior. Insofar as moral theory does not float
free of evidence about the etiology of human behavior, the tough questions
arise there as well. Ostensible akratic action, then, occupies a philosophical
space in the intersection of the philosophy of mind and moral theory. Refs.: The main references here are in three
folders in two different series. H. P. Grice, “Akrasia,” The H. P. Grice Papers,
S. II, c. 2-ff. 22-23 and S. V, c. 6-f. 32, BANC.
continental
breakfast:
Grice enjoyed a continental breakfast at Oxford, and an English breakfast in
Rome – As for ‘continental’ “philosophy,” Grice applied it to the gradually
changing spectrum of philosophical views that in the twentieth century
developed in Continental Europe and that are notably different from the various
forms of analytic philosophy that during the same period flourished at Oxford.
Immediately after World War II the expression “philosophie continentale” was
more or less synonymous with ‘phenomenology’. The latter term, already used
earlier in G. idealism, received a completely new meaning in the work of
Husserl. Later on “phainomenologie” was also applied, often with substantial
changes in meaning, to the thought of a great number of other Continental
philosophers such as Scheler, Alexander Pfander, Hedwig Conrad-Martius, and
Nicolai Hartmann. For Husserl the aim of philosophy is to prepare humankind for
a genuinely philosophical form of life, in and through which each human being
gives him- or herself a rule through reason. Since the Renaissance, many
philosophers have tried in vain to materialize this aim. In Husserl’s view, the
reason was that philosophers failed to use the proper philosophical method.
Husserl’s phenomenology was meant to provide philosophy with the method needed.
Among those deeply influenced by Husserl’s ideas the so-called existentialists
must be mentioned first. If ‘existentialism’ is construed strictly, it refers
mainly to the philosophy of Sartre and Beauvoir. In a very broad sense
‘existentialism’ refers to the ideas of an entire group of thinkers influenced
methodologically by Husserl and in content by Marcel, Heidegger, Sartre, or
Merleau-Ponty, and one may go and include S. N. Hampshire into the bargain. In
this case one often speaks of existential phenomenology. When Heidegger’s
philosophy became better known at Oxford, ‘continental philosophy’ received
again a new meaning. From Heidegger’s first publication, Being and Time 7, it
was clear that his conception of phenomenology differs from that of Husserl in
several important respects. That is why he qualified the term and spoke of
hermeneutic phenomenology and clarified the expression by examining the “original”
meaning of the Grecian words from which the term was formed. In his view
phenomenology must try “to let that which shows itself be seen from itself in
the very way in which it shows itself from itself.” Heidegger applied the
method first to the mode of being of man with the aim of approaching the
question concerning the meaning of being itself through this phenomenological
interpretation. Of those who took their point of departure from Heidegger, but
also tried to go beyond him, Gadamer and Ricoeur must be mentioned. The
structuralist movement in France added another connotation to ‘Continental
philosophy’. The term structuralism above all refers to an activity, a way of
knowing, speaking, and acting that extends over a number of distinguished
domains of human activity: linguistics, aesthetics, anthropology, psychology,
psychoanalysis, mathematics, philosophy of science, and philosophy itself.
Structuralism, which became a fashion in Paris and later in Western Europe
generally, reached its high point on the Continent between 0 and 0. It was
inspired by ideas first formulated by Russian formalism 626 and Czech
structuralism 640, but also by ideas derived from the works of Marx and Freud.
In France Foucault, Barthes, Althusser, and Derrida were the leading figures.
Structuralism is not a new philosophical movement; it must be characterized by
structuralist activity, which is meant to evoke ever new objects. This can be
done in a constructive and a reconstructive manner, but these two ways of
evoking objects can never be separated. One finds the constructive aspect
primarily in structuralist aesthetics and linguistics, whereas the
reconstructive aspect is more apparent in philosophical reflections upon the
structuralist activity. Influenced by Nietzschean ideas, structuralism later
developed in a number of directions, including poststructuralism; in this
context the works of Gilles Deleuze, Lyotard, Irigaray, and Kristeva must be
mentioned. After 0 ‘Continental philosophy’ received again a new connotation:
deconstruction. At first deconstruction presented itself as a reaction against
philosophical hermeneutics, even though both deconstruction and hermeneutics
claim their origin in Heidegger’s reinterpretation of Husserl’s phenomenology.
The leading philosopher of the movement is Derrida, who at first tried to think
along phenomenological and structuralist lines. Derrida formulated his “final”
view in a linguistic form that is both complex and suggestive. It is not easy
in a few sentences to state what deconstruction is. Generally speaking one can
say that what is being deconstructed is texts; they are deconstructed to show
that there are conflicting conceptions of meaning and implication in every text
so that it is never possible definitively to show what a text really means.
Derrida’s own deconstructive work is concerned mainly with philosophical texts,
whereas others apply the “method” predominantly to literary texts. What
according to Derrida distinguished philosophy is its reluctance to face the
fact that it, too, is a product of linguistic and rhetorical figures.
Deconstruction is here that process of close reading that focuses on those
elements where philosophers in their work try to erase all knowledge of its own
linguistic and rhetorical dimensions. It has been said that if construction
typifies modern thinking, then deconstruction is the mode of thinking that
radically tries to overcome modernity. Yet this view is simplistic, since one
also deconstructs Plato and many other thinkers and philosophers of the premodern
age. People concerned with social and political philosophy who have sought
affiliation with Continental philosophy often appeal to the so-called critical
theory of the Frankfurt School in general, and to Habermas’s theory of
communicative action in particular. Habermas’s view, like the position of the
Frankfurt School in general, is philosophically eclectic. It tries to bring
into harmony ideas derived from Kant, G. idealism, and Marx, as well as ideas
from the sociology of knowledge and the social sciences. Habermas believes that
his theory makes it possible to develop a communication community without
alienation that is guided by reason in such a way that the community can stand
freely in regard to the objectively given reality. Critics have pointed out
that in order to make this theory work Habermas must substantiate a number of
assumptions that until now he has not been able to justify.
Grice’s
contingency planning
– ‘contingens.’ “What is actual is not also possible” “What is necessary is not
also contingent” -- contingent, neither impossible nor necessary; i.e., both
possible and non-necessary. The modal property of being contingent is
attributable to a proposition, state of affairs, event, or more debatably an object. Muddles about the relationship
between this and other modal properties have abounded ever since Aristotle, who
initially conflated contingency with possibility but later realized that
something that is possible may also be necessary, whereas something that is
contingent cannot be necessary. Even today many philosophers are not clear
about the “opposition” between contingency and necessity, mistakenly supposing
them to be contradictory notions probably because within the domain of true
propositions the contingent and the necessary are indeed both exclusive and
exhaustive of one another. But the contradictory of ‘necessary’ is
‘non-necessary’; that of ‘contingent’ is ‘non-contingent’, as the following
extended modal square of opposition shows: These logico-syntactical relationships
are preserved through various semantical interpretations, such as those
involving: a the logical modalities proposition P is logically contingent just
when P is neither a logical truth nor a logical falsehood; b the causal or
physical modalities state of affairs or event E is physically contingent just
when E is neither physically necessary nor physically impossible; and c the
deontic modalities act A is morally indeterminate just when A is neither
morally obligatory nor morally forbidden. In none of these cases does
‘contingent’ mean ‘dependent,’ as in the phrase ‘is contingent upon’. Yet just
such a notion of contingency seems to feature prominently in certain
formulations of the cosmological argument, all created objects being said to be
contingent beings and God alone to be a necessary or non-contingent being.
Conceptual clarity is not furthered by assimilating this sense of ‘contingent’
to the others.
contrapositum: -- in Grecian,
‘antithesis’ – cfr. Hegel’s triad: thesis/antithesis,/synthesis. -- the immediate logical operation on any
categorical proposition that is accomplished by first forming the complements
of both the subject term and the predicate term of that proposition and then
interchanging these complemented terms. Thus, contraposition applied to the
categorical proposition ‘All cats are felines’ yields ‘All non-felines are
non-cats’, where ‘nonfeline’ and ‘non-cat’ are, respectively, the complements
or complementary terms of ‘feline’ and ‘cat’. The result of applying
contraposition to a categorical proposition is said to be the contrapositive of
that proposition. contraries, any pair
of propositions that cannot both be true but can both be false; derivatively,
any pair of properties that cannot both apply to a thing but that can both fail
to apply to a thing. Thus the propositions ‘This object is red all over’ and
‘This object is green all over’ are contraries, as are the properties of being
red all over and being green all over. Traditionally, it was considered that
the categorical A-proposition ‘All S’s are P’s’ and the categorical
E-proposition ‘No S’s are P’s’ were contraries; but according to De Morgan and
most subsequent logicians, these two propositions are both true when there are
no S’s at all, so that modern logicians do not usually regard the categorical
A- and E-propositions as being true contraries.
contravalid, designating a proposition P in a logical system such that
every proposition in the system is a consequence of P. In most of the typical
and familiar logical systems, contravalidity coincides with
self-contradictoriness.
voluntary
and rational control
– the power structure of the soul -- Grice’s intersubjective conversational
control, -- for Grice only what is under one’s control is communicated – spots
mean measles only metaphorically, the spots don’t communicate measles. An
involuntary cry does not ‘mean.’ Only a simulated cry of pain is a vehicle by
which an emissor may mean that he is in pain. an apparently causal phenomenon
closely akin to power and important for such topics as intentional action,
freedom, and moral responsibility. Depending upon the control you had over the
event, your finding a friend’s stolen car may or may not be an intentional
action, a free action, or an action for which you deserve moral credit. Control
seems to be a causal phenomenon. Try to imagine controlling a car, say, without
causing anything. If you cause nothing, you have no effect on the car, and one
does not control a thing on which one has no effect. But control need not be
causally deterministic. Even if a genuine randomizer in your car’s steering
mechanism gives you only a 99 percent chance of making turns you try to make,
you still have considerable control in that sphere. Some philosophers claim
that we have no control over anything if causal determinism is true. That claim
is false. When you drive your car, you normally are in control of its speed and
direction, even if our world happens to be deterministic.
conversational
avowal: The phrase is a Ryleism, but
Grice liked it. Grice’s point is with corrigibility or lack thereof. He recalls
his tutorials with Strawson. “I want you to bring me a paper on Friday.” “You
mean The Telegraph?” “You know what I mean.”
“But perhaps you don’t.” Grice’s favourite conversational avowal,
mentioned by Grice, is a declaration of an intention.. Grice starts using the
phrase ‘conversational avowal’ after exploring Ryle’s rather cursory
exploration of them in The Concept of Mind. This is interesting because in
general Grice is an anti-ryleist. The verb is of course ‘to avow,’ which
is ultimately a Latinate from ‘advocare.’ A processes or event of the soul is,
on the official view, supposed to be played out in a private theatre. Such an
event is known directly by the man who has them either through the faculty of
introspection or the ‘phosphorescence’ of consciousness. The subject is,
on this view, incorrigible—his avowals of the state of his soul cannot be
corrected by others—and he is infallible—he cannot be wrong about which states
he is in. The official doctrine mistakenly construes an avowals or a
report of such an episode as issuing from a special sort of observation or
perception of shadowy existents. We should consider some differences
between two sorts of 'conversational' avowals: (i) I feel a tickle and (ii) I
feel ill. If a man feels a tickle, he has a tickle, and if he has a tickle, he
feels it. But if he feels ill, he may not be ill, and if he is ill, he may
not feel ill. Doubtless a man’s feeling ill is some evidence for his being
ill. But feeling a tickle is not evidence for his having a tickle, any more
than striking a blow is evidence for the occurrence of a blow. In ‘feel a
tickle’ and ‘strike a blow’, ‘tickle’ and ‘blow’ are cognate accusatives to the
verbs ‘feel’ and ‘strike’. The verb and its accusative are two expressions
for the same thing, as are the verbs and their accusatives in ‘I dreamt a
dream’ and ‘I asked a question’. But ‘ill’ and ‘capable of climbing the tree’
are not cognate accusatives to the verb ‘to feel.' So they are not in grammar
bound to signify feelings, as ‘tickle’ is in grammar bound to signify a
feeling. Another purely grammatical point shows the same thing. It is
indifferent whether I say ‘I feel a tickle’ or ‘I have a tickle’; but ‘I have .
. .’ cannot be completed by ‘. . . ill’, (cf. ‘I have an illness’), ‘. . .
capable of climbing the tree’, (cf. I have a capability to climb that tree’) ‘.
. . happy’ (cf. ‘I have a feeling of happiness’ or ‘I have happiness in my
life’) or ‘. . . discontented’ (cf. ‘I have a feeling of strong discontent
towards behaviourism’). If we try to restore the verbal parallel by bringing in
the appropriate abstract nouns, we find a further incongruity; ‘I feel
happiness’(I feel as though I am experiencing happiness), ‘I feel illness’ (I
feel as though I do have an illness’) or ‘I feel ability to climb the tree’ (I
feel that I am endowed with the capability to climb that tree), if they mean
anything, they do not mean at all what a man means by uttering ‘I feel happy,’
or ‘I feel ill,’ or ‘I feel capable of climbing the tree’. On the other
hand, besides these differences between the different uses of ‘I feel . . .’
there are important CONVERSATIONAL analogies as well. If a man says that
he has a tickle, his co-conversationalist does not ask for his evidence, or
requires him to make quite sure. Announcing a tickle is not proclaiming the
results of an investigation. A tickle is not something established by
careful witnessing, or something inferred from a clue, nor do we praise for his
powers of observation or reasoning a man who let us know that he feels tickles,
tweaks and flutters. Just the same is true of avowals of moods. If a man
makes a conversational contribution, such as‘I feel bored’, or ‘I feel
depressed’, his co-conversationalist does not usually ask him for his evidence,
or request him to make sure. The co-conversationalist may accuse the man of
shamming to him or to himself, but the co-conversationalist does not accuse him
of having been careless in his observations or rash in his inferences, since a
co-conversationalist would not usually think that his conversational avowal is
a report of an observation or a conclusion. He has not been a good or a
bad detective; he has not been a detective at all. Nothing would surprise us
more than to hear him say ‘I feel depressed’ in the alert and judicious tone of
voice of a detective, a microscopist, or a diagnostician, though this tone of
voice is perfectly congruous with the NON-AVOWAL past-tense ‘I WAS feeling
depressed’ or the NON-AVOWAL third-person report, ‘HE feels depressed’. If the
avowal is to do its conversational job, it must be said in a depressed tone of
voice. The conversational avowal must be blurted out to a sympathizer, not
reported to an investigator. Avowing ‘I feel depressed’ is doing one of the
things, viz. one CONVERSATIONAL thing, that depression is the mood to do. It is
not a piece of scientific premiss-providing, but a piece of ‘conversational
moping.’That is why, if the co-conversationalist is suspicious, he does not ask
‘Fact or fiction?’, ‘True or false?’, ‘Reliable or unreliable?’, but ‘Sincere
or shammed?’ The CONVERSATIONAL avowal of moods requires not acumen, but
openness. It comes from the heart, not from the head. It is not
discovery, but voluntary non-concealment. Of course people have to learn how to
use avowal expressions appropriately and they may not learn these lessons very
well. They learn them from ordinary discussions of the moods of others and from
such more fruitful sources as novels and the theatre. They learn from the same
sources how to cheat both other people and themselves by making a sham
conversational avowal in the proper tone of voice and with the other proper
histrionic accompaniments. If we now raise the question ‘How does a man find out
what mood he is in?’ one can answer that if, as may not be the case, he finds
it out at all, he finds it out very much as we find it out. As we have seen, he
does not groan ‘I feel bored’ because he has found out that he is bored, any
more than the sleepy man yawns because he has found out that he is
sleepy. Rather, somewhat as the sleepy man finds out that he is sleepy by
finding, among other things, that he keeps on yawning, so the bored man finds
out that he is bored, if he does find this out, by finding that among other
things he glumly says to others and to himself ‘I feel bored’ and ‘How bored I
feel’. Such a blurted avowal is not merely one fairly reliable index among
others. It is the first and the best index, since being worded and voluntarily
uttered, it is meant to be heard and it is meant to be understood. It calls for
no sleuth-work.In some respects a conversational avowal of a moods, like ‘I
feel cheerful,’ more closely resemble announcements of sensations like ‘I feel
a tickle’ than they resemble utterances like ‘I feel better’ or ‘I feel capable
of climbing the tree’. Just as it would be absurd to say ‘I feel a tickle but
maybe I haven’t one’, so, in ordinary cases, it would be absurd to say ‘I feel
cheerful but maybe I am not’. But there would be no absurdity in saying ‘I FEEL
better but, to judge by the doctor’s attitude, perhaps I am WORSE’, or ‘I do
FEEL as if I am capable of climbing the tree but maybe I cannot climb it.’This
difference can be brought out in another way. Sometimes it is natural to say ‘I
feel AS IF I could eat a horse’, or ‘I feel AS IF my temperature has returned
to normal’. But, more more immediate conversational avowals, it would seldom if
ever be natural to say ‘I feel AS IF I were in the dumps’, or ‘I feel AS IF I
were bored’, any more than it would be natural to say ‘I feel AS IF I had a
pain’. Not much would be gained by discussing at length why we use ‘feel’ in
these different ways. There are hosts of other ways in which it is also used. I
can say ‘I felt a lump in the mattress’, ‘I felt cold’, ‘I felt queer’, ‘I felt
my jaw-muscles stiffen’, ‘I felt my gorge rise’, ‘I felt my chin with my
thumb’, ‘I felt in vain for the lever’, ‘I felt as if something important was
about to happen’, ‘I felt that there was a flaw somewhere in the argument’, ‘I
felt quite at home’, ‘I felt that he was angry’. A feature common to most
of these uses of ‘feel’ is that the utterer does not want further questions to
be put. They would be either unanswerable questions, or unaskable questions. That
he felt it is enough to settle some debates.That he merely felt it is enough to
show that debates should not even begin. Names of moods, then, are not the
names of feelings. But to be in a particular mood is to be in the mood, among
other things, to feel certain sorts of feelings in certain sorts of situations.
To be in a lazy mood, is, among other things, to tend to have sensations of
lassitude in the limbs when jobs have to be done, to have cosy feelings of
relaxation when the deck-chair is resumed, not to have electricity feelings
when the game begins, and so forth. But we are not thinking primarily of
these feelings when we say that we feel lazy; in fact, we seldom pay much heed
to sensations of these kinds, save when they are abnormally acute. Is a name of a mood a name of an emotion? The only
tolerable reply is that of course they are, in that some people some of the
time use ‘emotion’. But then we must add that in this usage an emotion is not
something that can be segregated from thinking, daydreaming, voluntarily doing
things, grimacing or feeling pangs and itches. To have the emotion, in this
usage, which we ordinarily refer to as ‘being bored’, is to be in the mood to
think certain sorts of thoughts, and not to think other sorts, to yawn and not
to chuckle, to converse with stilted politeness, and not to talk with
animation, to feel flaccid and not to feel resilient. Boredom is not some
unique distinguishable ingredient, scene or feature of all that its victim is
doing and undergoing. Rather it is the temporary complexion of that totality.
It is not like a gust, a sunbeam, a shower or the temperature; it is like the
morning’s weather. An unstudied conversational utterance may embody an
explicit interest phrase, or a conversational avowal, such as ‘I want it’, ‘I
hope so’, ‘That’s what I intend’, ‘I quite dislike it’, ‘Surely I am
depressed’, ‘I do wonder, too’, ‘I guess so’ and ‘I am feeling hungry.’The
surface grammar (if not logical form) makes it tempting to misconstrue all the
utterances as a description. But in its primary employment such a
conversational avowal as ‘I want it’ is not used to convey information.‘I want
it’ is used to make a request or demand. ‘I want it’ is no more meant as a
contribution to general knowledge than ‘please’. For a co-conversationalist to
respond with the tag ‘Do you?’ or worse, as Grice’s tutee, with ‘*how* do you
*know* that you want it?’ is glaringly inappropriate. Nor, in their primary
employment, are conversational avowals such as ‘I hate it’ or ‘That’s what I I
intend’ used for the purpose of telling one’s addressee facts about the
utterer; or else we should not be surprised to hear them uttered in the cool,
informative tones of voice in which one says ‘HE hates it’ and ‘That’s what he
intends’. We expect a conversational avowal, on the contrary, to be spoken in a
revolted and a resolute tone of voice respectively. It is an utterances of a
man in a revolted and resolute frame of mind. A conversational avowal is a
thing said in detestation and resolution and not a thing said in order to
advance biographical knowledge about detestations and resolutions. A man
who notices the unstudied utterances of the utterer, who may or may not be
himself, is, if his interest in the utterer has the appropriate direction,
especially well situated to pass comments upon the qualities and frames of mind
of its author.‘avowal’ as a philosophical lexeme may not invite an immediate
correlate in the Graeco-Roman, ultimately Grecian, tradition. ‘Confessio’
springs to mind, but this is not what Grice is thinking about. He is more
concerned with issues of privileged access and incorrigibility, or
corrigibility, rather, as per the alleged immediacy of a first-person report of
the form, “I feel that …” . Grice does use ‘avowal’ often especially in the
early stages, when the logical scepticism about incorrigibility comes under
attack. Just to be different, Grice is interested in the corrigibility of the
avowal. The issue is of some importance in his account of the act of
communication, and how one can disimplicate what one means. Grice loves to play
with his tutee doubting as to whether he means that p or q. Except at Oxford,
the whole thing has a ridiculous ring to it. I want you to bring me a paper by
Friday. You mean the newspaper? You very well know what I mean. But perhaps you
do not. Are you sure you mean a philosophy paper when you utter, ‘I want you to
bring a paper by Friday’? As Grice notes, in case of self-deception and
egcrateia, it may well be that the utterer does not know what he desires, if
not what he intends, if anything. Freud and Foucault run galore. The topic will
interest a collaborator of Grice’s, Pears, with his concept of ‘motivated
irrationality.’ Grice likes to discuss a category mistake. I may be
categorically mistaken but I am not categorically confused. Now when it comes
to avowal-avowal, it is only natural that if he is interested in Aristotle on
‘hedone,’ Grice would be interested in Aristotle on ‘lupe.’ This is very
philosophical, as Urmson agrees. Can one ‘fake’ pain? Why would one fake pain?
Oddly, this is for Grice the origin of language. Is pleasure just the absence
of pain? Liddell and Soctt have “λύπη” and render it as pain of body, oἡδον;
also, sad plight or condition, but also pain of mind, grief; “ά; δῆγμα δὲ λύπης
οὐδὲν ἐφ᾽ ἧπαρ προσικνεῖται; τί γὰρ καλὸν ζῆν βίοτον, ὃς λύπας φέρει; ἐρωτικὴ
λ.’ λύπας προσβάλλειν;” “λ. φέρειν τινί; oχαρά.” Oddly, Grice goes back to pain
in Princeton, since it is explored by Smart in his identity thesis. Take
pain. Surely, Grice tells the Princetonians, it sounds harsh, to echo Berkeley,
to say that it is the brain of Smith being in this or that a state which is
justified by insufficient evidence; whereas it surely sounds less harsh that it
is the C-fibres that constitute his ‘pain,’ which he can thereby fake. Grice
distinguishes between a complete unstructured utterance token – “Ouch” – versus
a complete syntactically structured erotetic utterance of the type, “Are you in
pain?”. At the Jowett, Corpus Barnes has read Ogden and says ‘Ouch’ (‘Oh’)
bears an ‘emotional’ or ‘emotive’ communicatum provided there is an intention
there somewhere. Otherwise, no communicatum occurs. But if there is an
intention, the ‘Oh’ can always be a fake. Grice distinguishes between a ‘fake’
and a ‘sneak.’ If U intends A to perceive ‘Oh’ as a fake, U means that he is in
pain. If there is a sneaky intention behind the utterance, which U does NOT
intend his A to recognise, there is no communicatum. Grice criticises emotivism
as rushing ahead to analyse a nuance before exploring what sort of a nuance it
is. Surely there is more to the allegedly ‘pseudo-descriptive’ ‘x is good,’
than U meaning that U emotionally approves of x. In his ‘myth,’ Grice uses pain
magisterially as an excellent example for a privileged-access allegedly
incorrigible avowal, and stage 0 in his creature progression. By uttering
‘Oh!,’ under voluntary control, Barnes means, iconically, that he is in pain.
Pain fall under the broader keyword: emotion, as anger does. Cf. Aristotle on the
emotion in De An., Rhet., and Eth. Nich. Knowing that at Oxford, if you are a
classicist, you are not a philosopher, Grice never explores the Stoic, say,
approach to pain, or lack thereof (“Which is good, since Walter Pater did it
for me!”). Refs.: “Can I have a pain in my tail?” The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC
MSS 90/135c, The Bancroft Library, The University of California, Berkeley.
conversational
game theory:
Grice: “It was Austin who made me see the philosophy of football!” -- Grice for
‘homo ludens’. In “Logic and conversation,” Grice uses the phrases, “the game
of conversation,” “conversational game,” “conversational move,” “the
conversational rules,” – so he knew he was echoing Neumann and Morgenstern. J.
Hintikka, “Grice and game theory.” the theory of the structure of, and the
rational procedures (or strategies) for performing in, games or game-like human
interactions. Although there are forerunners, game theory is virtually invented
by Neumann and Morgenstern. Its most striking feature is its compact
representation of interactions of at least two players; e. g. two players may
face two choices each, and in combination these choices produce four possible
outcomes. Actual choices are of strategies, not of outcomes, although it is
assessments of outcomes that recommend this or that procedure, maxim,
imperative, or strategy. To do well in a game, even for each player to do well,
as is often possible, generally requires taking the other player’s position,
interest, and goal, into account. Hence, to evaluate an imperative or rule or
strategiy directly, without reference to the outcomes they might produce in
interaction with others, is conspicuously perverse. It is not surprising,
therefore, that in meta-ethics, game theory has been preeminently applied to utilitarianianism.
As the numbers of players and rational procedure, guideline or strategies rise,
the complexity of the game of conversation increases geometrically. If players
have *2* strategies each and each ranks the four possible outcomes without ties,
there are already *78* strategically distinct conversations. Even minor
real-life interactions may have astronomically greater complexity. Grice once
complained to Hintikka that this makes game theory ‘useless,’ or ‘otiose.’
Alternatively, one can note that this makes it realistic and helps us
understand why real-life choices are at least as complex as they sometimes
seem. To complicate matters further, conversationalists can choose over
probabilistic combinations of their pure rational guidelines or strategies.
Hence, the original 4 outcomes in a simple 2 $ 2 game define a continuum of
potential outcomes. After noting the structure of the game of conversation, one
might then be struck by an immediate implication of this mere description. A
rational agent may be supposed to attempt to maximize his potential or expected
outcome in the game of conversation. But as there are at least two players in
the game of conversation, in general conversationalists cannot all maximize
simultaneously over their expected outcomes while assuming that all others are
doing likewise. This is an analytical principle. In general, we cannot maximize
over two functions simultaneously. The general notion of the greatest good of
the greatest number, e. g., is incoherent. Hence, in inter-active choice
contexts, the simple notion of economic rationality is incoherent. Virtually
all of early game theory was dedicated to finding an alternative principle for
resolving conversational game interactions. There are now many of what Grice
calls a “solution theory,” most of which are about this or that outcome rather
than this or that rational guideline or strategy they stipulate which outcomes
or range of outcomes is game-theoretically “rational.” There is little
consensus on how to generalize from the ordinary rationality of merely choosing
more rather than less and of displaying consistent preferences to the general
choice of strategies in games. A pay-off in early game theory is almost always
represented in a cardinal, transferable utility. A transferable utility is an
odd notion that is evidently introduced to avoid the disdain with which
philosophers then treated interpersonal comparisons of utility. It seems to be
analogous to money. One could say that the theory is one of wealth maximization.
In the early theory, the “rationality” conditions are as follows.In general, if
the sums of the pay-offs to each players in various outcomes differ, it is
assumed that a rational player will manage to divide the largest possible
payoff with the other player. 2 No rational agent will accept a payoff below
the “security level” obtainable even if all the other player or players really
form a coalition against the individual. Sometimes it is also assumed that no
group of players will rationally accept less than it could get as its group
security level but in some games, no
outcome can meet this condition. This is an odd combination of elements. The
collective elements are plausibly thought of as merely predictive. If we individually
wish to do well, we should combine efforts to help us do best AS A
CONVERSATIONAL DYAD. But what we want is a theory that converts two individual
preferences into one collective result – Grice’s conversational shared goal of
influencing and being influenced by others. Unfortunately, to put a move doing
just this in the foundations of the theory is question-begging. Our fundamental
burden is to determine whether a theory of subjective rationality MAY produce
an inter-subjectively good result, not to stipulate that it must. In the theory
with cardinal, additive payoffs, we can divide games. There is the constant-sum
game, in which the sum of all players’ payoffs in each outcome is a constant,
and variable sum games. A zero-sum games is a special case of a constant sum
game. Two-player constant sum games are games of pure conversational
‘conflict.’ Each player’s gain is the other’s loss. In constant sum games with
more than two players and in all variable sum games, there is generally reason
for coalition formation to improve payoffs to members of the coalition. A game
without transferable utility, such as a games in which players have only
ordinal preferences, may be characterized as a game of pure conflict or of pure
co-ordination (or co-operation) when players’ preference orderings over
outcomes are, respectively, opposite or identical, or as games of mixed motive
when their orderings are partly the same and partly reversed. Grice’s nalysis
of such games is evidently less tractable than that of games with cardinal,
additive utility, and their theory is only beginning to be extensively
developed by Griceians. Despite the apparent circularity of the rationality
assumptions of early game theory, it is the game theorists’ prisoner’s dilemma
that makes clear that compelling subjectivistic principles of choice can
produce an inter-subjective deficient outcome. This game given its catchy but
inapt name. If they play it in isolation from any other interaction between
them, two players in this game can each do what seems individually best and reach
an outcome that both consider inferior to the outcome that results from making
opposite strategy choices. Even with the knowledge that this is the problem
they face, the players still have incentive to choose the strategies that
jointly produce the inferior outcome. The prisoner’s dilemma involves both
coordination (or co-operation) and conflict. It has played a central role in
discussions of Griceian conversational pragmatics. Games that predominantly
involve coordination (or cooperation), such as when we coordinate in all
driving on the right or all on the left, have a similarly central role. The
understanding of both classes of games has been read into the philosophy of
Hobbes and Hume and into “mutual advantage” theories of justice.
conversational benevolence: benevolentia, beneficentia, malevolentia, maleficentia --
. In Grice it’s not benevolence per se but as a force in a two-force model,
with self-love on the other side. The fact that he later subsumed everything
under ONE concept: that of co-operation (first helpfulness) testifies that he
is placing more conceptual strength on ‘benevolence’ than ‘self love.’ But the
self-love’ remains in all the caveats and provisos that Grice keeps guarding
his claims with: ‘ceteris paribus,’ ‘provided there’s not much effort
involved,’ ‘if no unnecessary trouble arises,’ and so on. It’s never
benevolence simpliciter or tout court. When it comes to co-operation, the
self-love remains: the mutual goal of that co-operation is in the active and
the passive voice – You expect me to be helpful as much as I expect you to be
helpful. We are in this together. The active/passive voice formulation is
emphatic in Grice: informing AND BEING INFORMED; influencing AND BEING
INFLUENCED. The self-love goes: I won’t inform you unless you’ll inform me. I
won’t influence you unless you influence me. The ‘influence’ bit does not seem
to cooperative. But the ‘inform’ side does. By ‘inform,’ the idea is that the
psi-transmission concerns a true belief. “I’ll be truthful if you will.” This
is the sort of thing that Nietzsche found repugnant and identified with the
golden rule was totally immoral. – It was felt by Russell to be immoral enough
that he cared to mention in a letter to The Times about how abusive Nietzsche
can be – yet what a gem “Beyond good and evil” still is! In the hypocritical
milieu that Grice expects his tuttees know they are engaged in, Grice does not
find Nietzsche pointing to a repugnant fact, but a practical, even jocular way
of taking meta-ethics in a light way. There is nothing other-oriented about
benevolence. What Grice needs is conversational ALTRUISM, or helpfulness –
‘cooperation’ has the advantage, with the ‘co-’, of avoiding the ‘mutuality’
aspect, which is crucial (“What’s the good of helping you – I’m not your
servant! – if thou art not going to help me!” It may be said that when Butler
uses ‘benevolentia’ he means others. “It is usually understood that one is
benevolent towards oneself, if that makes sense.” Grice writes. Then there’s
Smith promising Jones a job – and the problem that comes with it. For Grice, if
Smith promised a job to Jones, and Jones never gets it – “that’s Jones’s
problem.” So we need to distinguish beneficentia and benevolentia. The opposite
is malevolentia and maleficientia. Usually Grice states his maxims as
PROHIBITIONS: “Do not say what you believe to be false” being the wittiest! So,
he might just as well have appealed to or invoked a principle of absence of
conversational ill-will. Grice uses ‘conversational benevolence’ narrowly, to
refer to the assumption that conversationalists will agree to make a
contribution appropriate to the shared purposes of the exhcnage. It contrasts
with the limiting conversational self-love, which is again taken narrowly to
indicate that conversationalists are assumed to be conversationally
‘benevolent,’ in the interpretation above, provided doing that does not get
them into unnecessary trouble. The type of rationality that Grice sees in
conversational is one that sees conversation as ‘rational co-operation.’ So it
is obvious that he has to invoke some level of benevolence. When tutoring his
rather egoistic tutees he had to be careful, so he hastened to add a principle
of conversational self-love. It was different when lecturing outside a
tutorial! In fact ‘benevolence’ here is best understood as ‘altruism’. So, if
there is a principle of conversational egoism, there is a correlative principle
of conversational altruism. If Grice uses ‘self-love,’ there is nothing about
‘love,’ in ‘benevolence.’ Butler may have used ‘other-love’! Even if of course
we must start with the Grecians! We must not forget that Plato and Aristotle
despised "autophilia", the complacency and self-satisfaction making
it into the opposite of "epimeleia heautou” in Plato’s Alcibiades. Similarly,
to criticize Socratic ethics as a form of egoism in opposition to a selfless
care of others is inappropriate. Neither a self-interested seeker of wisdom nor
a dangerous teacher of self-love, Socrates, as the master of epimeleia heautou,
is the hinge between the care of self and others. One has to be careful here. A
folk-etymological connection between ‘foam’ may not be needed – when the Romans
had to deal with Grecian ‘aphrodite.’ This requires that we look for another
linguistic botany for Grecian ‘self-love’ that Grice opposes to ‘benevolentia.’
Hesiod derives Aphrodite from “ἀφρός,” ‘sea-foam,’ interpreting the name as
"risen from the foam", but most modern scholars regard this as a
spurious folk etymology. Early modern scholars of classical mythology attempted
to argue that Aphrodite's name was of Griceain or Indo-European origin, but
these efforts have now been mostly abandoned. Aphrodite's name is generally
accepted to be of non-Greek, probably Semitic, origin, but its exact derivation
cannot be determined. Scholars in the late nineteenth and early twentieth
centuries, accepting Hesiod's "foam" etymology as genuine, analyzed
the second part of Aphrodite's name as -odítē "wanderer" or -dítē
"bright". Janda, also accepting Hesiod's etymology, has argued in
favor of the latter of these interpretations and claims the story of a birth
from the foam as an Indo-European mytheme. Similarly, an Indo-European compound
abʰor-, very" and dʰei- "to shine" have been proposed, also
referring to Eos. Other have argued that these hypotheses are unlikely since
Aphrodite's attributes are entirely different from those of both Eos and the
Vedic deity Ushas.A number of improbable non-Greek etymologies have also been
suggested. One Semitic etymology compares Aphrodite to the Assyrian ‘barīrītu,’
the name of a female demon that appears in Middle Babylonian and Late
Babylonian texts. Hammarström looks to Etruscan, comparing eprϑni
"lord", an Etruscan honorific loaned into Greek as πρύτανις.This
would make the theonym in origin an honorific, "the lady".Most
scholars reject this etymology as implausible, especially since Aphrodite
actually appears in Etruscan in the borrowed form Apru (from Greek Aphrō, clipped
form of Aphrodite). The medieval Etymologicum Magnum offers a highly contrived
etymology, deriving Aphrodite from the compound habrodíaitos (ἁβροδίαιτος),
"she who lives delicately", from habrós and díaita. The alteration
from b to ph is explained as a "familiar" characteristic of Greek
"obvious from the Macedonians". It is much easier with the Romans. Lewis and Short have ‘ămor,’ old form “ămŏs,”
“like honos, labos, colos, etc.’ obviously from ‘amare,’ and which they render
as ‘love,’ as in Grice’s “conversational self-love.” Your tutor will reprimand
you if you spend too much linguistic botany on ‘eros.’ “Go straight to
‘philos.’” But no. There are philosophical usages of ‘eros,’ especially when it
comes to the Grecian philosophers Grice is interested in: Aristotle reading
Plato, which becomes Ariskant reading Plathegel. So, Liddell and Scott have
“ἔρως” which of course is from a verb, or two: “ἕραμαι,” “ἐράω,” and which they
render as “love, mostly of the sexual passion, ““θηλυκρατὴς ἔ.,” “ἐρῶσ᾽ ἔρωτ᾽
ἔκδημον,” “ἔ. τινός love for one, S.Tr.433, “παίδων” E. Ion67, and “generally,
love of a thing, desire for it,” ““πατρῴας γῆς” “δεινὸς εὐκλείας ἔ.” “ἔχειν
ἔμφυτον ἔρωτα περί τι” Plato, Lg. 782e ; “πρὸς τοὺς λόγους” (love of law),
“ἔρωτα σχὼν τῆς Ἑλλάδος τύραννος γενέσθαι” Hdt.5.32 ; ἔ. ἔχει με c. inf.,
A.Supp.521 ; “θανόντι κείνῳ συνθανεῖν ἔρως μ᾽ ἔχει” S.Fr.953 ; “αὐτοῖς ἦν ἔρως
θρόνους ἐᾶσθαι” Id.OC367 ; ἔ. ἐμπίπτει μοι c. inf., A.Ag.341, cf. Th.6.24 ; εἰς
ἔρωτά τινος ἀφικέσθαι, ἐλθεῖν, Antiph.212.3,Anaxil.21.5 : pl., loves, amours,
“ἀλλοτρίων” Pi.N.3.30 ; “οὐχ ὅσιοι ἔ.” E.Hipp.765 (lyr.) ; “ἔρωτες ἐμᾶς πόλεως”
Ar.Av.1316 (lyr.), etc. ; of dolphins, “πρὸς παῖδας” Arist.HA631a10 :
generally, desires, S.Ant.617 (lyr.). 2. object of love or desire, “ἀπρόσικτοι
ἔρωτες” Pi.N.11.48, cf. Luc.Tim.14. 3. passionate joy, S.Aj.693 (lyr.); the god
of love, Anacr.65, Parm.13, E.Hipp.525 (lyr.), etc.“Έ. ἀνίκατε μάχαν” S.Ant.781
(lyr.) : in pl., Simon.184.3, etc. III. at Nicaea, a funeral wreath, EM379.54.
IV. name of the κλῆρος Ἀφροδίτης, Cat.Cod.Astr.1.168 ; = third κλῆρος,
Paul.Al.K.3; one of the τόποι, Vett.Val.69.16. And they’ll point to you that
the Romans had ‘amor’ AND ‘cupidus’ (which they meant as a transliteration of
epithumia). If for Kant and Grice it is the intention that matters, ill-will
counts. If Smith does not want Jones have a job, Smith has ill-will towards
Jones. This is all Kant and Grice need to call Smith a bad person. It means it
is the ill-will that causes Joness not having a job. A conceptual elucidation.
Interesting from a historical point of view seeing that Grice had introduced a
principle of conversational benevolence (i.e. conversational goodwill) pretty
early. Malevolentia was over-used by Cicero, translating the Grecian. Grice
judges that if Jones fails to get the job that benevolent Smith promised, Smith
may still be deemed, for Kant, if not Aristotle, to have given him the
job. A similar elucidation was carried by Urmson with his idea of
supererogation (heroism and sainthood). For a hero or saint, someones goodwill
but not be good enough! Which does not mean it is ill, either! Conversational
benevolence -- Self-love Philosophical theology -- Edwards, J., philosopher and
theologian. He was educated at Yale, preached in New York City, and in 1729
assumed a Congregational pastorate in Northampton, Massachusetts, where he
became a leader in the Great Awakening. Because of a dispute with his
parishioners over qualifications for communion, he was forced to leave in 1750.
In 1751, he took charge of congregations in Stockbridge, a frontier town sixty
miles to the west. He was elected third president of Princeton in 1757 but died
shortly after inauguration. Edwards deeply influenced Congregational and
Presbyterian theology in America for over a century, but had little impact on
philosophy. Interest in him revived in the middle of the twentieth century,
first among literary scholars and theologians and later among philosophers.
While most of Edwards’s published work defends the Puritan version of Calvinist
orthodoxy, his notebooks reveal an interest in philosophical problems for their
own sake. Although he was indebted to Continental rationalists like
Malebranche, to the Cambridge Platonists, and especially to Locke, his own
contributions are sophisticated and original. The doctrine of God’s absolute
sovereignty is explicated by occasionalism, a subjective idealism similar to
Berkeley’s, and phenomenalism. According to Edwards, what are “vulgarly” called
causal relations are mere constant conjunctions. True causes necessitate their
effects. Since God’s will alone meets this condition, God is the only true
cause. He is also the only true substance. Physical objects are collections of
ideas of color, shape, and other “corporeal” qualities. Finite minds are series
of “thoughts” or “perceptions.” Any substance underlying perceptions, thoughts,
and “corporeal ideas” must be something that “subsists by itself, stands
underneath, and keeps up” physical and mental qualities. As the only thing that
does so, God is the only real substance. As the only true cause and the only
real substance, God is “in effect being in general.” God creates to communicate
his glory. Since God’s internal glory is constituted by his infinite knowledge
of, love of, and delight in himself as the highest good, his “communication ad
extra” consists in the knowledge of, love of, and joy in himself which he
bestows upon creatures. The essence of God’s internal and external glory is
“holiness” or “true benevolence,” a disinterested love of being in general
i.e., of God and the beings dependent on him. Holiness constitutes “true
beauty,” a divine splendor or radiance of which “secondary” ordinary beauty is
an imperfect image. God is thus supremely beautiful and the world is suffused
with his loveliness. Vindications of Calvinist conceptions of sin and grace are
found in Freedom of the Will 1754 and Original Sin 1758. The former includes
sophisticated defenses of theological determinism and compatibilism. The latter
contains arguments for occasionalism and interesting discussions of identity.
Edwards thinks that natural laws determine kinds or species, and kinds or
species determine criteria of identity. Since the laws of nature depend on
God’s “arbitrary” decision, God establishes criteria of identity. He can thus,
e.g., constitute Adam and his posterity as “one thing.” Edwards’s religious
epistemology is developed in A Treatise Concerning Religious Affections 1746
and On the Nature of True Virtue 1765. The conversion experience involves the
acquisition of a “new sense of the heart.” Its core is the mind’s apprehension of
a “new simple idea,” the idea of “true beauty.” This idea is needed to properly
understand theological truths. True Virtue also provides the fullest account of
Edwards’s ethics a moral sense theory
that identifies virtue with benevolence. Although indebted to contemporaries
like Hutcheson, Edwards criticizes their attempts to construct ethics on
secular foundations. True benevolence embraces being in general. Since God is,
in effect, being in general, its essence is the love of God. A love restricted
to family, nation, humanity, or other “private systems” is a form of
self-love. Refs.: The source is Grice’s seminar in the first set on
‘Logic and conversation.’ The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.
conversational
category:
-- Greek ‘categoria,’ Cicero couldn’t translate it and kept it as ‘categoria,’.
Cf Kant ‘categoric versus hypotheticum
or conditionale -- used jocularly by Grice. But can it be used non-jocularly?
How can the concept of ‘category,’ literally, apply to what Grice says it
applies, so that we have, assuming Kant is using ‘quantity,’ ‘quality,’
‘relation’ and ‘mode,’ as SUPRA-categories (functions, strictly) for his twelve
categories? Let’s revise, the quantity applies to the quantification (in
Frege’s terms) or what Boethius applied to Aristotle’s posotes – and there are
three categories involved, but the three deal with the ‘quantum: ‘every,’
‘some,’ and ‘one.’ ‘some’ Russell would call an indefinite. Strictly, if Grice
wants to have a category of conversational quantity – it should relate to the ‘form’
of the ‘conversational move.’ “Every nice girl loves a sailor” would be the one
with most ‘quantity.’ Grice sees a problem there, and would have that rather
translated as ‘The altogether nice girl loves the one-at-a-time sailor.’ But
that would be the most conversational move displaying ‘most quantity.’ (It can
be argued it isn’t). When it comes to the category of conversational quality,
the three categories by Kant under the ‘function’ of qualitas involves the well
known trio, the affirmative, the negative, and the infinite. In terms of the
‘quality’ of a conversational move, it may be argued that a move in negative
form (as in Grice, “I’m not hearing any noise,” “That pillar box is not blue”
seem to provide ‘less’ quality than the affirmative counterparts. But as in
quantity, it is not sure Kant has some ordering in mind. It seems he does. It
seems he ascribes more value to the first category in each of the four
functions. When it comes to the category of conversational relation, the
connection with Kant could be done. Since this involves the categoric, the
hypothetic, and the disjunctive. So here we may think that a conversational
move will be either a categoric response – A: Mrs Smith is a wind bag. B: The
weather has been delightful. Or a hypothetical. A: Mrs Smith is a wind bag. B:
If that’s what you think. Or a dijunctive: Mrs. Smith is a wind bag. B: Or she
is not. When it comes, lastly, to the category of conversational mode, we have
just three strict categories under this ‘function’ in Kant, which relate to the
strength of the copula: ‘must be,’ must not be’ and ‘may.’ A conversational
move that states a necessity would be the expected move. “You must do it.”
Impossibility involves negation, so it is more problematic. And ‘may be’ is an
open conversational move. So there IS a way to justify the use of
‘conversational category’ to apply to the four functions that Kant decides the
Aristotelian categories may subsumed into. He knows that Kant has TWELVE
categories, but he keeps lecturing the Harvardites about Kant having FOUR
categories. On top, he finds ‘modus’ boring, and, turned a manierist, changes
the idiom. This is what Austin called a ‘philosophical hack’ searching for some
para-philosophy! One has to be careful here. Grice does speak of this or that
‘conversational category.’ Seeing that he is ‘echoing,’ as he puts it,
Ariskant, we migt just as well have an entry for each of the four. These would
be the category of conversational quantity, the category of conversational
quality, the category of conversational relation, and the category of
conversational modality. Note that in this rephrasing Grice applies
‘conversational’ directly to the category. As Boethius pointed out (and Grice
loved to read Minio-Paullelo’s edition of Boethus’s commentary on the
Categories), the motivation by Aristotle to posit this or that category was
expository. A mind cannot know a multitude of things, so we have to ‘reduce’
things. It is important to note that while ‘quantitas,’ ‘qualitas’ ‘relatio’
and ‘modus’ are used by Kant, he actually augments the number of categories.
These four would be supra-categories. The sub-categories, or categories
themselves turn out to be twelve. Kant proposed 12 categories: unity,
plurality, and totality for concept of quantity; reality, negation, and
limitation, for the concept of quality; inherence and subsistence, cause and
effect, and community for the concept of relation; and
possibility-impossibility, existence-nonexistence, and necessity and
contingency. Kategorien sind nach Kant apriorisch und unmittelbar gegeben.
Sie sind Werkzeuge des Urteilens und Werkzeuge des Denkens. Als solche dienen
sie nur der Anwendung und haben keine Existenz. Sie bestehen somit nur im
menschlichen Verstand. Sie sind nicht an Erfahrung gebunden.[5] Durch ihre
Unmittelbarkeit sind sie auch nicht an Zeichen gebunden.[6] Kants
erkenntnistheoretisches Ziel ist es, über die Bedingungen der Geltungskraft von
Urteilen Auskunft zu geben. Ohne diese Auskunft können zwar vielerlei Urteile
gefällt werden, sie müssen dann allerdings als „systematische Doktrin(en)“
bezeichnet werden.[7] Kant
kritisiert damit das rein analytische Denken der Wissenschaft als falsch und
stellt ihm die Notwendigkeit des synthetisierenden Denkens gegenüber.[8] Kant begründet
die Geltungskraft mit dem Transzendentalen Subjekt.[9] Das
Transzendentalsubjekt ist dabei ein reiner Reflexionsbegriff, welcher das
synthetisierende Dritte darstellt (wie in späteren Philosophien Geist (Hegel),
Wille, Macht, Sprache und Wert (Marx)), das nicht durch die Sinne wahrnehmbar
ist. Kant sucht hier die Antwort auf die Frage, wie der Mensch als
vernunftbegabtes Wesen konstituiert werden kann, nicht in der Analyse, sondern
in einer Synthesis.[10]Bei Immanuel Kant, der somit als
bedeutender Erneuerer der bis dahin „vorkritischen“ Kategorienlehre gilt,
finden sich zwölf „Kategorien der reinen Vernunft“. Für Kant sind diese
Kategorien Verstandesbegriffe,
nicht aber Ausdruck des tatsächlichen Seins der Dinge an sich.
Damit wandelt sich die ontologische Sichtweise
der Tradition in eine erkenntnistheoretische Betrachtung,
weshalb Kants „kritische“ Philosophie (seit der Kritik der
reinen Vernunft) oft auch als „Kopernikanische
Wende in der Philosophie“ bezeichnet wird.Quantität, Qualität, Relation und Modalität sind
die vier grundlegenden Urteilsfunktionen des Verstandes, nach denen die
Kategorien gebildet werden. Demnach sind z. B. der Urteilsfunktion
„Quantität“ die Kategorien bzw. Urteile „Einheit“, „Vielheit“ und „Allheit“
untergeordnet, und der Urteilsfunktion „Relation“ die Urteile der „Ursache“ und
der „Wirkung“.Siehe
auch: Kritik der
reinen Vernunft und Transzendentale
AnalytikBereits bei Friedrich
Adolf Trendelenburg findet man den Hinweis auf
die verbreitete Kritik, dass Kant die den Kategorien zugrunde liegenden
Urteilsformen nicht systematisch hergeleitet und damit als notwendig begründet
hat. Einer der Kritikpunkte ist dabei, dass die Kategorien sich teilweise auf
Anschauungen (Einzelheit, Realität, Dasein), teilweise auf Abstraktionen wie
Zusammenfassen, Begrenzen oder Begründen (Vielheit, Allheit, Negation,
Limitation, Möglichkeit, Notwendigkeit) beziehen.
conversational
compact:
conversational pact in Grice’s conversational quasi-contractualism, contractarianism,
a family of moral and political theories that make use of the idea of a social
contract. Traditionally English philosophers such as Hobbes and Locke used the
social contract idea to justify certain conceptions of the state. In the
twentieth century philosophers such as G. R. Grice, H. P. Grice, and John Rawls
have used the social contract notion (‘quasi-contractualism’ in Grice’s sense) to
define and defend moral conceptions both conceptions of political justice and
individual morality, often but not always doing so in addition to developing
social contract theories of the state. The term ‘contractarian’ most often
applies to this second type of theory. There are two kinds of moral argument
that the contract image has spawned, the first rooted in Hobbes and the second
rooted in Kant. Hobbesians start by insisting that what is valuable is what a
person desires or prefers, not what he ought to desire or prefer for no such
prescriptively powerful object exists; and rational action is action that achieves
or maximizes the satisfaction of desires or preferences. They go on to insist
that moral action is rational for a person to perform if and only if such
action advances the satisfaction of his desires or preferences. And they argue
that because moral action leads to peaceful and harmonious living conducive to
the satisfaction of almost everyone’s desires or preferences, moral actions are
rational for almost everyone and thus “mutually agreeable.” But Hobbesians
believe that, to ensure that no cooperative person becomes the prey of immoral
aggressors, moral actions must be the conventional norms in a community, so
that each person can expect that if she behaves cooperatively, others will do
so too. These conventions constitute the institution of morality in a society.
So the Hobbesian moral theory is committed to the idea that morality is a
human-made institution, which is justified only to the extent that it
effectively furthers human interests. Hobbesians explain the existence of
morality in society by appealing to the convention-creating activities of human
beings, while arguing that the justification of morality in any human society
depends upon how well its moral conventions serve individuals’ desires or
preferences. By considering “what we could agree to” if we reappraised and
redid the cooperative conventions in our society, we can determine the extent
to which our present conventions are “mutually agreeable” and so rational for
us to accept and act on. Thus, Hobbesians invoke both actual agreements or
rather, conventions and hypothetical agreements which involve considering what
conventions would be “mutually agreeable” at different points in their theory;
the former are what they believe our moral life consists in; the latter are
what they believe our moral life should consist in i.e., what our actual moral life should
model. So the notion of the contract does not do justificational work by itself
in the Hobbesian moral theory: this term is used only metaphorically. What we
“could agree to” has moral force for the Hobbesians not because make-believe
promises in hypothetical worlds have any binding force but because this sort of
agreement is a device that merely reveals how the agreed-upon outcome is
rational for all of us. In particular, thinking about “what we could all agree
to” allows us to construct a deduction of practical reason to determine what
policies are mutually advantageous. The second kind of contractarian theory is
derived from the moral theorizing of Kant. In his later writings Kant proposed
that the “idea” of the “Original Contract” could be used to determine what
policies for a society would be just. When Kant asks “What could people agree
to?,” he is not trying to justify actions or policies by invoking, in any
literal sense, the consent of the people. Only the consent of real people can
be legitimating, and Kant talks about hypothetical agreements made by
hypothetical people. But he does believe these make-believe agreements have
moral force for us because the process by which these people reach agreement is
morally revealing. Kant’s contracting process has been further developed by
subsequent philosophers, such as Rawls, who concentrates on defining the
hypothetical people who are supposed to make this agreement so that their reasoning
will not be tarnished by immorality, injustice, or prejudice, thus ensuring
that the outcome of their joint deliberations will be morally sound. Those
contractarians who disagree with Rawls define the contracting parties in
different ways, thereby getting different results. The Kantians’ social
contract is therefore a device used in their theorizing to reveal what is just
or what is moral. So like Hobbesians, their contract talk is really just a way
of reasoning that allows us to work out conceptual answers to moral problems.
But whereas the Hobbesians’ use of contract language expresses the fact that,
on their view, morality is a human invention which if it is well invented ought
to be mutually advantageous, the Kantians’ use of the contract language is
meant to show that moral principles and conceptions are provable theorems
derived from a morally revealing and authoritative reasoning process or “moral
proof procedure” that makes use of the social contract idea. Both kinds of
contractarian theory are individualistic, in the sense that they assume that
moral and political policies must be justified with respect to, and answer the
needs of, individuals. Accordingly, these theories have been criticized by
communitarian philosophers, who argue that moral and political policies can and
should be decided on the basis of what is best for a community. They are also
attacked by utilitarian theorists, whose criterion of morality is the
maximization of the utility of the community, and not the mutual satisfaction of
the needs or preferences of individuals. Contractarians respond that whereas
utilitarianism fails to take seriously the distinction between persons,
contractarian theories make moral and political policies answerable to the
legitimate interests and needs of individuals, which, contra the
communitarians, they take to be the starting point of moral theorizing.
conversational co-öperation: Grice is perfectly right that ‘helpfulness’ does not
‘equate’ cooperation. His earlier principle of conversational helpfulness
becomes the principle of conversational co-operation.Tthere is a distinction
between mutual help and cooperation. First, the Romans never knew. Their
‘servants’ were ‘help’ – and this remains in the British usage of ‘civil
servant,’ one who helps. Some philosophical tutees by Hare were often reminded,
in the midst of their presenting their essays, “Excuse me for interrupting,
Smith, but have you considered a career in the civil service?” Then some Romans
found Christianism fashionable, and they were set to translate the Bible. So
when this Hebrew concept appeared, they turned it into ad-judicatum, which was
translated by Wycliff as ‘help.’ Now ‘operatio’ is quite a different animal.
It’s the ‘opus’ of the Romans, who also had ‘labor.’ Surely to ‘co-laborate’ is
to ‘co-operate.’ There is an idea that ‘operate,’ can be more otiose, in the
view of Rogers Albritton. “He is operating the violin,” was his favourite
utterance. “Possibly his opus 5.” The fact that English needs a hyphen and an
umlaut does not make it very ‘ordinary’ in Austin’s description. Grice is more
interested in the conceptualization of this, notably as it relates to
rationality. Can cooperation NOT be rational? For most libertarians,
cooperation IS “irrational,” rather. But Grice points is subtler. He is
concerned with an emissor communicating that p. The least thing he deserves is
a rational recipient. “Otherwise I might just as well scream to the walls!” Used
by Grice WOW:368 – previously, ‘rational cooperation’ – what cooperation is not
rational? Grice says that if Smith promised Jones a job; Jones doesn’t get it.
Smith must be DEEMED to have given the job to Jones. It’s the intention, as
Kant shows, the pure motive, that matters. Ditto for communication. If
Blackburn draws a skull, he communicates that there is danger. If his addressee
fails to recognise the emissor’s intention the emissor will still be deemed to
have communicated that there is danger. So communication does NOT require
co-operation. His analysis of “emissor communicates that p” is not one of
“emissor successfully communicates that p,” because “communicates” reduces to
“intends” not to ‘fulfilled intention.’ Cooperation enters when we go beyond
ONE act of communication. To communicate is to give information and to influence
another, and it is also to receive information and to be influenced by another.
When these communicative objectives are made explicit, helpfulness or
cooperation becomes essential. He uses ‘converational cooperation” and “supreme
principle of conversational cooperation” (369). He uses ‘supreme conversational
principle” of “cooperativeness” (369), to avoid seeing the conversational
imperatives as an unorganized heap of conversational obligations. Another
variant is Grice’s use of “principle of conversational co-operation.” He also
uses “principle of conversational rational co-operation.” Note that irrational
or non-rational co-operation is not an oxymoron. Another expression is
conversational cooperative rationality. So Grice was amused that you can just
as well refer to ‘cooperative rationality” or “rational cooperation,” “a
category shift if ever there was one.”
conversational explicaturum –
explicitirum – cf. the implicaturum and the impliciturm –
implicatura/implicitura – implicaturm-impliciturm -- To be explicit is bad
manners at Oxford if not in Paris or MIT. The thing is to imply! Englishmen are
best at implying – their love for understatement is unequalled in the world. Grice
needs the explicatio, or explicit. Because the mistake the philosopher makes is
at the level of the implicatio, as Nowell-Smith, and C. K. Grant had noted. It
is not OBVIOUSLY at the explicit level. Grice was never interested in the
explicit level, and takes a very cavalier attitude to it. “This brief
indication of my use of say leaves it open whether a man who says (today)
Harold Wilson is a great man and another who says (also today) The British
Prime Minister is a great man would, if each knew that the two singular terms
had the same reference, have said the same thing. But whatever decision is made
about this question, the apparatus that I am about to provide will be capable
of accounting for any implicaturums that might depend on the presence of one
rather than another of these singular terms in the sentence uttered. Such implicaturums
would merely be related to different maxims.”Rephrase: “A brief indication of
my use of ‘the explicit’ leaves it open whether a man who states (today),
‘Harold Wilson is a great man’ thereby stating that Wilson is a great man, and
another who states (also today),‘The British Prime Minister is a great man,’
viz. that the Prime Minister is a great mand, would, if each singular term,
‘the Prime Minister’ and ‘Wilson’ has the same denotatum (co-relata) have put
forward in an explicit fashion the same propositional complex, and have stated
the same thing. On the face of it, it would seem they have not. But cf. ‘Wilson
will be the prime minister’ versus ‘Wilson shall be the prime minister.’ Again,
a subtler question arises as to whether the first emissor who has stated that
Wilson will be the next prime minster and the other one who has stated that
Wilson *shall* be the next prime minster, have both but forward the same
proposition. If the futurm indicatum is ENTAILED by the futurum intentionale, the
question is easy to settle. Whatever methodological decision or stipulation I
end up making about the ‘explicitum,’ the apparatus that I rely on is capable
of accounting for any implicaturum that might depend on the presence of this or
that singular term in the utterance. Such an implicaturum would merely be
related to a different conversational maxims. Urmson has elaborated on this,
“Mrs. Smith’s husband just passed by.” “You mean the postman! Why did you use
such contrived ‘signular term’?” If the emissor draws a skull what he
explicitly conveys is that this is a skull. This is the EPLICITUM. If he
communicates that there is danger, that’s via some further reasoning. That
associates a skull with death. Grice’s example is Grice displaying his bandaged
leg. Strictly, he communicates that he has a bandaged leg. Second, that his leg
is bandaged (the bandage may be fake). And third, that he cannot play cricket. It
all started in Oxford when they started to use ‘imply’ in a sense other than
the ‘logical’ one. This got Grice immersed in a deep exploration of types of
‘implication.’ There is the implicaturum, and the implicitum, both from
‘implico.’ As correlative there is the explicatio, which yields both the
explicatum and the explicitum. Grice has under the desideratum of
conversational clarity that a conversationalist is assumed to make the point of
his conversational contribution ‘explicit.’ So in his polemic with G. A. Paul,
Grice knows that the ‘doubt-or-denial’ condition will be at the level NOT of
the explicitum or explicatum. Surely an implicaturum can be CANCELLED
explicitly. Grice uses ‘contextual’ or ‘explicit,’ here but grants that the
‘contextual’ may be subsumed under the ‘explicit.’ It is when the sub-perceptual utterance is
copulated with the formulation of the explicatum of the implicaturum that Grice
shows G. A. Paul that the statement is still ‘true,’ and which Grice sees as a
reivindication of the causal theory of perception. In the twenty or so examples
of philosophical mistakes, both in “Causal” and “Prolegomena,” all the mistakes
can be rendered back to the ‘explicatum’ versus ‘implicaturum’ distinction.
Unfortunately, each requires a philosophical background to draw all the
‘implications,’ and Grice has been read by people without a philosophical
background who go on to criticise him for ignoring things where he never had
focused his attention on. His priority is to deal with these philosophical
mistakes. He also expects the philosopher to come up with a general
methodological statement. Grice distinguishes between the conversational
explicitum and the conversational explicatum. Grice plays with ‘explicit’ and
‘implicit’ at various places. He often uses ‘explicit’and ‘implicit’
adverbially: the utterer explicitly conveys that p versus the utterer
implicitly conveys that p (hints that p, suggests that p, indicates that p,
implicates that p, implies that p). Grice regards that both dimensions form
part of the total act of signification, accepting as a neutral variant, that
the utterer has signified that p.
conversational game: In a conversational game, you don’t say “The pillar box
seems red” if you know it IS red. So, philosophers at Oxford (like Austin,
Strawson, Hare, Hampshire, and Hart) are all victims of ignoring the rules of
the game, and just not understanding that a game is being played. the expression is used by Grice
systematically. He speaks of players making the conversational move in the
conversational game following the conversational rule, v. rational choice
conversational
haggle
-- bargaining theory, the branch of game theory that treats agreements, e.g.,
wage agreements between labor and management. In the simplest bargaining
problems there are two bargainers. They can jointly realize various outcomes,
including the outcome that occurs if they fail to reach an agreement, i.e. if
they fail to help each other or co-operate. Each bargainer assigns a certain
amount of utility to each outcome. The question is, what outcome will they
realise if each conversationalist is rational? Methods of solving bargaining
problems are controversial. The best-known proposals are Grice’s and Nash’s and
Kalai and Smorodinsky’s. Grice proposes that if you want to get a true answer
to your question, you should give a true answer to you co-conversationalist’s
question (“ceteris paribus”). Nash proposes maximizing the product of utility
gains with respect to the disagreement point. Kalai and Smorodinsky propose
maximsiing utility gains with respect to the disagreement point, subject to the
constraint that the ratio of utility gains equals the ratio of greatest
possible gains. These three methods of selecting an outcome have been
axiomatically characterized. For each method, there are certain axioms of
outcome selection such that that method alone satisfies the axioms. The axioms
incorporate principles of rationality from cooperative game theory. They focus
on features of outcomes rather than bargaining strategies. For example, one
axiom requires that the outcome selected be Pareto-optimal, i.e., be an outcome
such that no alternative is better for one of the bargainers and not worse for
the other. A bargaining problem may become more complicated in several ways.
First, there may be more than two bargainers (“Suppose Austin joins in.”). If
unanimity is not required for beneficial agreements, splinter groups or co-alitions
may form. Second, the protocol for offers, counte-roffers (“Where does C live?”
“Why do you want to know?”) etc., may be relevant. Then principles of *non-cooperative*
but competitive game theory concerning war strategies (“l’art de la guerre”) are
needed to justify this or that solution. Third, the context of a bargaining
problem may be relevant. For instance, opportunities for side payments,
differences in bargaining power, and interpersonal comparisons of utility may
influence the solution. Fourth, simplifying assumptions, such as the assumption
that bargainers have complete information about their bargaining situation, may
be discarded. Bargaining theory is part of the philosophical study of rationality.
It is also important in ethics as a foundation for contractarian theories of
morality and for certain theories of distributive justice.
conversational helpfulness. It’s not clear if ‘helpfulness’ has a Graeco-Roman
counterpart! The Grecians and the Romans could be VERY individualistic! – adiuvare,
(adiuare, old for adiūverare), iūtus, āre,” which Lewis and Short render as “to
help, assist, aid, support, further, sustain. “fortīs fortuna adiuvat, T.:
maerorem orationis meae lacrimis suis: suā sponte eos, N.: pennis adiutus
amoris, O.: in his causis: alqm ad percipiendam virtutem: si quid te adiuero,
poet ap. C.: ut alqd consequamur, adiuvisti: multum eorum opinionem adiuvabat,
quod, etc., Cs.—With ellips. of obj, to be of assistance, help: ad verum
probandum: non multum, Cs.: quam ad rem humilitas adiuvat, is convenient,
Cs.—Supin. acc.: Nectanebin adiutum profectus, N.—P. pass.: adiutus a
Demosthene, N.—Fig.: clamore militem, cheer, L.: adiuvat hoc quoque, this too
is useful, H.: curā adiuvat illam (formam), sets off his beauty, O. Grice is right that ‘cooperation’ does NOT equate
‘helpfulness’ and he appropriately changes
his earlier principle of conversational helpfulness to a principle of
conversational co-operation. Was there a Graeco-Roman equivalent for
Anglo-Saxon ‘help’? helpmeet (n.) a ghost word from the 1611 translation of the
Bible, where it originally was a two-word noun-adjective phrase translating
Latin adjutorium simile sibi [Genesis ii.18] as "an help meet for
him," and meaning literally "a helper like himself." See help
(n.) + meet (adj.). By 1670s it was hyphenated help-meet and mistaken as a
modified noun. Compare helpmate. The original Hebrew is 'ezer keneghdo. Related
entries & more aid (v.) "to
assist, help," c. 1400, from Old French aidier "help, assist"
(Modern French aider), from Latin adiutare, frequentative of adiuvare (past
participle adiutus) "to give help to," from ad "to" (see
ad-) + iuvare "to help, assist, give strength, support, sustain,"
which is from a PIE source perhaps related to the root of iuvenis "young
person" (see young (adj.)). Related: Aided; aiding. Related entries &
more succor (n.) c. 1200, socour,
earlier socours "aid, help," from Anglo-French succors "help,
aid," Old French socors, sucurres "aid, help, assistance"
(Modern French secours), from Medieval Latin succursus "help,
assistance," from past participle of Latin succurrere "run to help,
hasten to the aid of," from assimilated form of sub "up to" (see
sub-) + currere "to run" (from PIE root *kers- "to run").
Final -s mistaken in English as a plural inflection and dropped late 13c.
Meaning "one who aids or helps" is from c. 1300. There is a fashion
in which to help is to cooperate, but co-operate, strictly, requires operation
by A and operation by B. We do use cooperate loosely. “She is very
cooperative.” “Help” seems less formal. One can help without ever engaging or
honouring the other’s goal. I can help you buy a house, say. So the principle
of conversational cooperation is stricter and narrower than the principle of
conversational helpfulness. Cooperation involves reciprocity and mutuality in a
way that helpfulness does not. That’s why Grice needs to emphasise that there
is an expectation of MUTUAL helpfulness. One is expected to be helpful, and one
expects the other to be helpful. Grice was doubtful about the implicaturum of
‘co-operative,’ – after all, who at Oxford wants a ‘co-operative.’ It sounds
anti-Oxonian. So Grice elaborates on ‘helping others’ and ‘assuming others will
help you’ in the event that we ‘are doing something together.’ Does this equate
cooperation, he wonders. Just in case, he uses ‘helpfulness’ as a variant.
There are other concepts he plays with, notably ‘altruism,’ and ‘benevolence,’
or other-love.’Helpfulness is Grice’s favourite virtue. Grice is clear that
reciprocity is essential here. One exhibits helpfulness and expects helpfulness
from his conversational partner. He dedicates a set of seven lectures to it,
entitled as follows. Lecture 1, Prolegomena; Lecture 2: Logic and Conversation;
Lecture 3: Further notes on logic and conversation; Lecture 4: Indicative
conditionals; Lecture 5: Us meaning and intentions; Lecture 6: Us meaning,
sentence-meaning, and word-meaning; and Lecture 7: Some models for implicaturum.
I hope they dont expect me to lecture on James! Grice admired James, but
not vice versa. Grice entitled the set as being Logic and Conversation.
That is the title, also, of the second lecture. Grice keeps those titles seeing
that it was way the whole set of lectures were frequently cited, and that the
second lecture had been published under that title in Davidson and
Harman, The Logic of Grammar. The content of each lecture is
indicated below. In the first, Grice manages to quote from Witters. In
the last, he didnt! The original set consisted of seven lectures. To
wit: Prolegomena, Logic and conversation, Further notes on logic and
conversation, Indicative Conditionals, Us meaning and intentions, Us meaning,
sentence-meaning, and word meaning, and Some models for implicaturum. They were
pretty successful at Oxford. While the notion of an implicaturum had been
introduced by Grice at Oxford, even in connection with a principle of
conversational helpfulness, he takes the occasion now to explore the type of
rationality involved. Observation of the principle of conversational
helpfulness is rational (reasonable) along the following lines: anyone who
cares about the two central goals to conversation (give/receive information,
influence/be influened) is expected to have an interest in participating in a
conversation that is only going to be profitable given that it is conducted
along the lines set by the principle of conversational helpfulness. In
Prolegomena he lists Austin, Strawson, Hare, Hart, and himself, as victims of a
disregard for the implicaturum. In the third lecture he introduces his razor,
Senses are not to be muliplied beyond necessity. In Indicative conditionals he
tackles Strawson on if as not representing the horse-shoe of Whitehead and Russell.
The next two lectures on the meaning by the utterer and intentions, and meaning
by the utterer, sentence-meaning, and word-meaning refine his earlier, more
austere, account of this particularly Peirceian phenomenon. He concludes the
lectures with an exploration on the relevance of the implicaturum to
philosophical psychology. Grice was well aware that many philosophers had
become enamoured with the s. and would love to give it a continuous perusal.
The set is indeed grandiose. It starts with a Prolegomena to set the scene: He
notably quotes himself in it, which helps, but also Strawson, which sort of
justifies the general title. In the second lecture, Logic and Conversation, he
expands on the principle of conversational helpfulness and the explicitum/implicaturum
distinction – all very rationalist! The third lecture is otiose in that he
makes fun of Ockham: Senses are not to be multiplied beyond necessity. The
fourth lecture, on Indicative conditionals, is indeed on MOST of the formal
devices he had mentioned on Lecture II, notably the functors (rather than the
quantifiers and the iota operator, with which he deals in Presupposition and
conversational implicaturum, since, as he notes, they refer to reference). This
lecture is the centrepiece of the set. In the fifth lecture, he plays with
mean, and discovers that it is attached to the implicaturum or the implicitum.
In the sixth lecture, he becomes a nominalist, to use Bennetts phrase, as he
deals with dog and shaggy in terms of this or that resultant procedure. Dont ask
me what they are! Finally, in “Some models for implicaturum,” he attacks the
charge of circularity, and refers to nineteenth-century explorations on the
idea of thought without language alla Wundt. I dont think a set of James
lectures had even been so comprehensive! Conversational helpfulness. This is
Grice at his methodological best. He was aware that the type of philosophying
he was about to criticise wass a bit dated, but whats wrong with being
old-fashioned? While this may be seen as a development of his views on implicaturum
at that seminal Oxford seminar, it may also be seen as Grice popularising the
views for a New-World, non-Oxonian audience. A discussion of Oxonian
philosophers of the play group of Grice, notably Austin, Hare, Hart, and
Strawson. He adds himself for good measure (“Causal theory”). Philosophers,
even at Oxford, have to be careful with the attention that is due to general
principles of discourse. Grice quotes philosophers of an earlier generation,
such as Ryle, and some interpreters or practitioners of Oxonian analysis, such
as Benjamin and Searle. He even manages to quote from Witterss Philosophical
investigations, on seeing a banana as a banana. There are further items in the
Grice collection that address Austins manoeuvre, Austin on ifs and cans, Ifs
and cans, : conditional, power. Two of Grices favourites. He opposed
Strawsons view on if. Grice thought that if was the horseshoe of Whitehead and
Russell, provided we add an implicaturum to an entailment. The can is
merely dispositional, if not alla Ryle, alla Grice! Ifs and cans, intention,
disposition. Austin had brought the topic to the fore as an exploration of
free will. Pears had noted that conversational implicaturum may account for the
conditional perfection (if yields iff). Cf. Ayers on Austin on if and can.
Recall that for Grice the most idiomatic way to express a disposition is with
the Subjectsive mode, the if, and the can ‒ The ice can break. Cf. the mistake:
It is not the case that what you must do, you can do. The can-may distinction
is one Grice played with too. As with will and shall, the attachment of one
mode to one of the lexemes is pretty arbitrary and not etymologically justified
‒ pace Fowler on it being a privilege of this or that Southern Englishman as
Fowler is. If he calls it Prolegomena, he is being jocular. Philosophers
Mistakes would have been too provocative. Benjamin, or rather Broad, erred, and
so did Ryle, and Ludwig Witters, and my friends, Austin (the mater that
wobbled), and in order of seniority, Hart (I heard him defend this about
carefully – stopping at every door in case a dog comes out at breakneck speed),
Hare (To say good is to approve), and Strawson (“Logical theory”: To utter if
p, q is to implicate some inferrability, To say true! is to endorse –
Analysis). If he ends with Searle, he is being jocular. He quotes Searle from
an essay in British philosophy in Lecture I, and from an essay in Philosophy in
America in Lecture V. He loved Searle, and expands on the Texas oilmens club
example! We may think of Grice as a linguistic botanizer or a meta-linguistic
botanizer: his hobby was to collect philosophers mistakes, and he catalogued
them. In Causal theory he produces his first list of seven. The pillar box
seems red to me. One cannot see a dagger as a dagger. Moore didnt know that the
objects before him were his own hands. What is actual is not also possible. For
someone to be called responsible, his action should be condemnable. A cause
must be given only of something abnormal or unusual (cf. ætiology). If you know
it, you dont believe it. In the Prolegomena, the taxonomy is more complicated.
Examples A (the use of an expression, by Austin, Benjamin, Grice, Hart, Ryle,
Wittgenstein), Examples B (Strawson on and, or, and especially if), and Examples
C (Strawson on true and Hare on good – the performative theories). But even if
his taxonomy is more complicated, he makes it more SO by giving other examples
as he goes on to discuss how to assess the philosophical mistake. Cf. his
elaboration on trying, I saw Mrs. Smith cashing a cheque, Trying to cash a
cheque, you mean. Or cf. his remarks on remember, and There is an analogy here
with a case by Wittgenstein. In summary, he wants to say. Its the philosopher
who makes his big mistake. He has detected, as Grice has it, some
conversational nuance. Now he wants to exploit it. But before rushing ahead to
exploit the conversational nuance he has detected, or identified, or collected
in his exercise of linguistic botanising, the philosopher should let us know with
clarity what type of a nuance it is. For Grice wants to know that the nuance
depends on a general principle (of goal-directed behaviour in general, and most
likely rational) governing discourse – that participants in a conversation
should be aware of, and not on some minutiæ that has been identified by the
philosopher making the mistake, unsystematically, and merely descriptively, and
taxonomically, but without ONE drop of explanatory adequacy. The fact that he
directs this to his junior Strawson is the sad thing. The rest are all Grices
seniors! The point is of philosophical interest, rather than other. And he
keeps citing philosophers, Tarski or Ramsey, in the third James leture, to
elaborate the point about true in Prolegomena. He never seems interested in
anything but an item being of philosophical interest, even if that means HIS
and MINE! On top, he is being Oxonian: Only at Oxford my colleagues were so
obsessed, as it has never been seen anywhere else, about the nuances of
conversation. Only they were all making a big mistake in having no clue as to
what the underlying theory of conversation as rational co-operation would
simplify things for them – and how! If I introduce the explicatum as a
concession, I shall hope I will be pardoned! Is Grices intention epagogic, or
diagogic in Prolegomena? Is he trying to educate Strawson, or just delighting
in proving Strawson wrong? We think the former. The fact that he quotes himself
shows that Grice is concerned with something he still sees, and for the rest of
his life will see, as a valid philosophical problem. If philosophy generated no
problems it would be dead. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Whence I took helpfulness,’; the
main sources are the two sets on ‘logic and conversation.’ There are good
paraphrases in other essays when he summarises his own views, as he did at
Urbana. The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.
conversational imperative: Grice is loose in the use of ‘imperative.’ It obviously
has to do with the will in command mode! -- The problem with ‘command’ is that
for Habermas, it springs from ‘power,’ and we need to have it sprung from
‘auctoritas,’ rather – the voice of reason, that is – “Impero” gives also
pre-pare. “Imperare, prepare, etc. What was the Greek for ‘imperative mode’? προστακτική
prostaktike. προσ-τακτικός , ή, όν, A.of or for
commanding, imperative, imperious, τὸ π. [ἡ ψυχή], opp. τὸ ὑπηρετικόν (of the
body), Arist.Top.128b19; “π. τινῶν” Corn.ND16; “λόγος” Plu.2.1037f;
Προστακτικός (sc. λόγος), title of work by Protagoras, D.L.9.55; “βραχυλογία” Plu.Phoc.5;
also of persons, “ἄρχων” Max.Tyr.13.2 (Sup.). II. Gramm., ἡ -κὴ ἔγκλισις the
imperative mood, D.T.638.7, A.D.Synt.31.20; π. ἐκφορὰ τῶν ῥημάτων ib.69.20; “τὸ
π. σχῆμα” Anon.Fig.24; also “τὸ -κόν” D.L. 7.66,67, Ps.-Plu.Vit.Hom.53. Adv.
“-κῶς” in the imperative mood, D.H.4.18, Sch.Ar.Av.1163.Grice became famous for
his ‘maxims,’ which in Nowell-Smith’s view they are more like rules of
etiquette for sylish conversation. As such, many had been proposed. But Grice
proposes them AS A PHILOSOPHER would, and ONLY TO REBUFF the mistake made by
this or that philosopher who would rather EXPLAIN the phenomenon in terms OTHER
than involving as PART OF THE DATA, i. e. as a datum (as he says) or
assumption, that there are these ‘assumptions,’ which guide behaviour. Grice is
having in mind Kant’s “Imperativ.” He also uses ‘conversational objective.” In
most versions that Grice provides of the ‘general expectations’ of rational
discourse, he chooses the obvious imperative form. On occasion he does use
‘imperative.’ Grice is vague as to the term of choice for this or that
‘expectation.’ According to Strawson, Grice even once used ‘conversational
rule,’ and he does use ‘conversational rule of the conversational game of
making this or that conversational move.’ Notably, he also uses ‘conversational
principle,’ and ‘conversational desideratum.’ And ‘maxim’! And ‘conversational
directive (371), and ‘conversational obligation’ (369). By ‘conversational
maxim,’ he means ‘conversational maxim.’ He uses ‘conversational sub-maxim’
very occasionally. He rather uses ‘conversational super-maxim.’ He uses
‘immanuel,’ and he uses ‘conversational immanuel.’ It is worth noting that the
choice of word influences the exegesis. Loar takes these things to be
‘empirical generalisations over functional states’! And Grice agrees that there
is a dull, empiricist way, in which these things can be seen as things people
conform to. There is a quasi-contractualist approach to: things people convene
on. And there is an Ariskantian approach: things people SHOULD abide by. Surely
Grice is not requiring that the conversationalists ARE explicitly or
consciously AWARE of these things. There is a principle of effort of economical
reason to cope with that!
Conversational entropia -- Entropia
-- conversational entropy. -- Principle of
Conversational entropy, a measure of disorder or “information.” The number of
states accessible to the various elements of a large system of particles such
as a cabbage or the air in a room is represented as “W.” Accessible microstates
might be, e. g., energy levels the various particles can reach. One can greatly
simplify the statement of certain laws of nature by introducing a logarithmic
measure of these accessible microstates. This measure, called “entropy” by H.
P. Grice is defined by the formula: SEntropy % df. klnW, where “k” is Grice’’s
constant. When the conversational entropy of a conversational system increases,
the system becomes more random and disordered (“less dove-tailed,” in Grice’s
parlance) in that a larger number of microstates become available for the
system’s particles to enter. If a large system within which exchanges of energy
occur is isolated, exchanging no energy with its environment, the entropy of
the system tends to increase and never decreases. This result is part of the
second law of thermodynamics. In real, evolving physical systems effectively
isolated from their environments, entropy increases and thus aspects of the
system’s organization that depend upon there being only a limited range of accessible
microstates are altered. A cabbage totally isolated in a container e. g. would
decay as complicated organic molecules eventually became unstructured in the
course of ongoing exchanges of energy and attendant entropy increases. In
Grice’s information theory, a state or event (or conversational move) is said
to contain more information than a second state or event if the former state is
less probable and thus in a sense more surprising (or “baffling,” in Grice’s
term) than the latter. Other plausible constraints suggest a logarithmic
measure of information content. Suppose X is a set of alternative possible
states, xi , and pxi is the probability
of each xi 1 X. If state xi has occurred the information content of that
occurrence is taken to be -log2pxi . This function increases as the probability
of xi decreases. If it is unknown which xi will occur, it is reasonable to
represent the expected information content of X as the sum of the information
contents of the alternative states xi weighted in each case by the probability
of the state, giving: This is called the Shannon’s or Grice’s entropy. Both
Shannon’s and Grice’s entropy and physical entropy can be thought of as
logarithmic measures of disarray. But this statement trades on a broad
understanding of ‘disarray’. A close relationship between the two concepts of
entropy should not be assumed, not even by Grice, less so by Shannon.
conversational implicaturum. Grice plays with the ambiguity of ‘implication’ as a
logical term, and ‘implicitness’ as a rhetorical one. He wants to make a
distinction between ‘dicere,’ to convey explicitly that p, and to convey
implicitly, or ‘imply’ (always applied to the emissor) that q. A joke. Surely
if he is going to use ‘implicaturum’ in Roman, this would be ‘implicaturum
conversationale,’ if there were such thing. And there were! The Roman is formed
from cum- plus ‘verso.’ So there’s Roman ‘conversatio.’ And –alis, ale is a
productive suffix. Or implicitum. Grice
is being philosophical and sticking with ‘implicatio’ as used by logicians.
Implicitum does not have much of a philosophical pedigree. But even
‘implicatio’ was not THAT used, ‘consequentia’ was preferred, as in ‘non
sequitur, and seguitur, quod demonstrandumm erat. Strawson criticism of ‘the,’
only tentative by Grice, unlike ‘if,’ so forgivable! See common-ground status. Grice
loved an implicaturum. The use of ‘conversational’ by Grice is NEVER emphatic.
In his detailed, even fastidious, taxonomy of ‘implication,’ he decisively does
not want to have a mere conventional implicaturum (as in “She was poor but she
was honest”) as conversational. Not even a “Thank you”, generated by the maxim
“be polite.” That would be an implicaturum which is nonconventional and yet NOT
conversational, because ‘be polite’ is NOT a conversational maxim (moral,
aesthetic, and social maxims are not). And an implicaturum. An elaboration of
his Oxonian seminar on Logic and conversation. Theres a principle of
conversational helpfulness, which includes a desideratum of conversational
candour and a desideratum of conversational clarity, and the sub-principle of
conversational self-interest clashing with the sub-principle of conversational
benevolence. The whole point of the manoeuvre is to provide a rational basis
for a conversational implicaturum, as his term of art goes. Observation of the
principle of conversational helpfulness is rational/reasonable along the
following lines: anyone who is interested in the two goals conversation is
supposed to serve ‒ give/receive information, influence/be influenced ‒ should
only care to enter a conversation that will be only profitable under the
assumption that it is conducted in accordance with the principle of
conversational helfpulness, and attending desiderata and sub-principles. Grice
takes special care in listing tests for the proof that an implicaturum is
conversational in this rather technical usage: a conversational implicaturum is
rationally calculable (it is the content of a psychological state, attitude or
stance that the addressee assigns to the utterer on condition that he is being
helpful), non-detachable, indeterminate, and very cancellable, thus never part
of the sense and never an entailment of this or that piece of philosophical
vocabulary, in Davidson and Harman, the logic of Grammar, also in Cole and
Morgan, repr. in a revised form in Grice, logic and conversation, the second
James lecture, : principle of conversational helpfulness, implicaturum,
cancellability. While the essay was also repr. by Cole and Morgan. Grice
always cites it from the two-column reprint in The Logic of Grammar, ed. by
Davidson and Harman. Most people without a philosophical background first encounter
Grice through this essay. A philosopher usually gets first acquainted with his
In defence of a dogma, or Meaning. In Logic and Conversation, Grice
re-utilises the notion of an implicaturum and the principle of conversational helpfulness
that he introduced at Oxford to a more select audience. The idea Grice is that
the observation of the principle of conversational helfpulness is rational
(reasonable) along the following lines: anyone who is concerned with the
two goals which are central to conversation (to give/receive information,
to influence/be influenced) should be interested in participating in a
conversation that is only going to be profitable on the assumption that it
is conducted along the lines of the principle of conversational
helfpulness. Grices point is methodological. He is not at all interested
in conversational exchanges as such. Unfortunately, the essay starts in
media res, and skips Grices careful list of Oxonian examples of disregard
for the key idea of what a conversant implicates by the conversational
move he makes. His concession is that there is an explicatum or explicitum
(roughly, the logical form) which is beyond pragmatic constraints. This
concession is easily explained in terms of his overarching irreverent,
conservative, dissenting rationalism. This lecture alone had been read by
a few philosophers leaving them confused. I do not know what Davidson and
Harman were thinking when they reprinted just this in The logic of grammar. I mean:
it is obviously in media res. Grice starts with the logical devices, and never
again takes the topic up. Then he explores metaphor, irony, and hyperbole, and
surely the philosopher who bought The logic of grammar must be left puzzled. He
has to wait sometime to see the thing in full completion. Oxonian philosophers
would, out of etiquette, hardly quote from unpublished material! Cohen had to
rely on memory, and thats why he got all his Grice wrong! And so did Strawson
in If and the horseshoe. Even Walker responding to Cohen is relying on memory.
Few philosophers quote from The logic of grammar. At Oxford, everybody knew
what Grice was up to. Hare was talking implicaturum in Mind, and Pears was
talking conversational implicaturum in Ifs and cans. And Platts was dedicating
a full chapter to “Causal Theory”. It seems the Oxonian etiquette was to quote
from Causal Theory. It was obvious that Grices implication excursus had to read
implicaturum! In a few dictionaries of philosophy, such as Hamlyns, under implication,
a reference to Grices locus classicus Causal theory is made – Passmore quotes
from Causal theory in Hundred years of philosophy. Very few Oxonians would care
to buy a volume published in Encino. Not many Oxonian philosophers ever quoted
The logic of grammar, though. At Oxford, Grices implicatura remained part of
the unwritten doctrines of a few. And philosophers would not cite a cajoled
essay in the references. The implicaturum allows a display of truth-functional
Grice. For substitutional-quantificational Grice we have to wait for his
treatment of the. In Prolegomena, Grice had quoted verbatim from Strawsons
infamous idea that there is a sense of inferrability with if. While the lecture
covers much more than if (He only said if; Oh, no, he said a great deal more
than that! the title was never meant to be original. Grice in fact provides a
rational justification for the three connectives (and, or, and if) and before
that, the unary functor not. Embedding, Indicative conditionals: embedding, not
and If, Sinton on Grice on denials of indicative conditionals, not,
if. Strawson had elaborated on what he felt was a divergence between
Whiteheads and Russells horseshoe, and if. Grice thought Strawsons observations
could be understood in terms of entailment + implicaturum (Robbing Peter to Pay
Paul). But problems, as first noted to Grice, by Cohen, of Oxford, remain, when
it comes to the scope of the implicaturum within the operation of, say,
negation. Analogous problems arise with implicatura for the other earlier
dyadic functors, and and or, and Grice looks for a single explanation of the
phenomenon. The qualification indicative is modal. Ordinary language
allows for if utterances to be in modes other than the imperative.
Counter-factual, if you need to be philosophical krypto-technical, Subjectsive
is you are more of a classicist! Grice took a cavalier to the problem: Surely
it wont do to say You couldnt have done that, since you were in Seattle, to
someone who figuratively tells you hes spend the full summer cleaning the
Aegean stables. This, to philosophers, is the centerpiece of the lectures.
Grice takes good care of not, and, or, and concludes with the if of the title.
For each, he finds a métier, alla Cook Wilson in Statement and Inference. And
they all connect with rationality. So he is using material from his Oxford
seminars on the principle of conversational helpfulness. Plus Cook Wilson makes
more sense at Oxford than at Harvard! The last bit, citing Kripke and Dummett,
is meant as jocular. What is important is the teleological approach to the
operators, where a note should be made about dyadicity. In Prolegomena, when he
introduces the topic, he omits not (about which he was almost obsessed!). He
just gives an example for and (He went to bed and took off his dirty boots),
one for or (the garden becomes Oxford and the kitchen becomes London, and the implicaturum
is in terms, oddly, of ignorance: My wife is either in town or country,making
fun of Town and Country), and if. His favourite illustration for if is Cock
Robin: If the Sparrow did not kill him, the Lark did! This is because Grice is
serious about the erotetic, i.e. question/answer, format Cook Wilson gives to
things, but he manages to bring Philonian and Megarian into the picture, just
to impress! Most importantly, he introduces the square brackets! Hell use them
again in Presupposition and Conversational Implicaturum and turns them into
subscripts in Vacuous Namess. This is central. For he wants to impoverish the
idea of the implicaturum. The explicitum is minimal, and any divergence is
syntactic-cum-pragmatic import. The scope devices are syntactic and eliminable,
and as he knows: what the eye no longer sees, the heart no longer grieves
for! The modal implicaturum. Since Grice uses indicative, for the
title of his third James lecture (Indicative Conditionals) surely he implicates
subjunctive ‒ i.e. that someone might be thinking that he should
give an account of indicative-cum-subjective. This relates to an example Grice
gives in Causal theory, that he does not reproduce in Prolegomena. Grice states
the philosophical mistake as follows. What is actual is not also
possible. Grice seems to be suggesting that a subjective conditional would
involve one or other of the modalities, he is not interested in exploring. On
the other hand, Mackie has noted that Grices conversationalist hypothesis
(Mackie quotes verbatim from Grices principle of conversational helpfulness)
allows for an explanation of the Subjectsive if that does not involve
Kripke-type paradoxes involving possible worlds, or other. In Causal Theory,
Grice notes that the issue with which he has been mainly concerned may be
thought rather a fine point, but it is certainly not an isolated one. There are
several philosophical theses or dicta which would he thinks need to be examined
in order to see whether or not they are sufficiently parallel to the thesis
which Grice has been discussing to be amenable to treatment of the same general
kind. An examples which occurs to me is the following. What is actual is not
also possible. I must emphasise that I am not saying that this example is
importantly similar to the thesis which I have been criticizing, only that, for
all I know, it may be. To put the matter more generally, the position adopted
by Grices objector seems to Grice to involve a type of manoeuvre which is
characteristic of more than one contemporary mode of philosophizing. He is not
condemning that kind of manoeuvre. He is merely suggesting that to embark on it
without due caution is to risk collision with the facts. Before we rush ahead
to exploit the linguistic nuances which we have detected, we should make sure
that we are reasonably clear what sort of nuances they are. If was also of
special interest to Grice for many other reasons. He defends a dispositional
account of intending that in terms of ifs and cans. He considers akrasia
conditionally. He explored the hypothetical-categorical distinction in the
buletic mode. He was concerned with therefore as involved with the associated
if of entailment. Refs.: “Implicaturum” is introduced in Essay 2 in WoW –
but there are scattered references elsewhere. He often uses the plural ‘implicatura’
too, as in “Retrospective Epilogue,” The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC. An implicaturum
requires a complexum. Frege was the topic of the explorations by Dummett. A
tutee of Grices once brought Dummetts Frege to a tutorial and told Grice that
he intended to explore this. Have you read it? No I havent, Grice
answered. And after a pause, he went on: And I hope I will not. Hardly
promising, the tutee thought. Some authors, including Grice, but alas, not
Frege, have noted some similarities between Grices notion of a conventional implicaturum
and Freges schematic and genial rambles on colouring. Aber Farbung, as Frege
would state! Grice was more interested in the idea of a Fregeian sense, but he
felt that if he had to play with Freges aber he should! One of Grices
metaphysical construction-routines, the Humeian projection, is aimed at the
generation of concepts, in most cases the rational reconstruction of an
intuitive concept displayed in ordinary discourse. We arrive at something
like a Fregeian sense. Grice exclaimed, with an intonation of Eureka, almost.
And then he went back to Frege. Grices German was good, so he could read
Frege, in the vernacular. For fun, he read Frege to his children (Grices, not
Freges): In einem obliquen Kontext, Frege says, Grice says, kann ja z. B. die
Ersetzung eines „aber durch ein „und, die in einem direkten Kontext keinen
Unterschied des Wahrheitswerts ergibt, einen solchen Unterschied bewirken. Ill
make that easy for you, darlings: und is and, and aber is but. But surely,
Papa, aber is not cognate with but! Its not. That is Anglo-Saxon, for you. But
is strictly Anglo-Saxon short for by-out; we lost aber when we sailed the North
Sea. Grice went on: Damit wird eine Abgrenzung von Sinn und Färbung (oder
Konnotationen) eines Satzes fragwürdig. I. e. he is saying that She was poor
but she was honest only conventionally implicates that there is a contrast
between her poverty and her honesty. I guess he heard the ditty during the War?
Grice ignored that remark, and went on: Appell und Kundgabe wären ferner von
Sinn und Färbung genauer zu unterscheiden. Ich weiß so auf interessante
Bedeutungs Komponenten hin, bemüht sich aber nicht, sie genauer zu
differenzieren, da er letztlich nur betonen will, daß sie in der Sprache der
Logik keine Rolle spielen. They play a role in the lingo, that is! What do?
Stuff like but. But surely they are not rational conversational implicatura!?
No, dear, just conventional tricks you can ignore on a nice summer day! Grice
however was never interested in what he dismissively labels the conventional implicaturum.
He identifies it because he felt he must! Surely, the way some Oxonian
philosophers learn to use stuff like, on the one hand, and on the other, (or
how Grice learned how to use men and de in Grecian), or so, or therefore, or
but versus and, is just to allow that he would still use imply in such cases.
But surely he wants conversational to stick with rationality: conversational
maxim and converational implicaturum only apply to things which can be
justified transcendentally, and not idiosyncrasies of usage! Grice follows
Church in noting that Russell misreads Frege as being guilty of ignoring the
use-mention distinction, when he doesnt. One thing that Grice minimises is that
Freges assertion sign is composite. Tha is why Baker prefers to use the dot “.”
as the doxastic correlative for the buletic sign ! which is NOT composite. The
sign „├‟ is composite. Frege explains his Urteilstrich, the vertical component
of his sign ├ as conveying assertoric force. The principal role of the
horizontal component as such is to prevent the appearance of assertoric force
belonging to a token of what does not express a thought (e.g. the expression
22). ─p expresses a thought even if p does not.) cf. Hares four sub-atomic
particles: phrastic (dictum), neustic (dictor), tropic, and clistic. Cf. Grice
on the radix controversy: We do not want the “.” in p to become a vanishing
sign. Grices Frege, Frege, Words, and Sentences, Frege, Farbung, aber. Frege
was one of Grices obsessions. A Fregeian sense is an explicatum, or implicitum,
a concession to get his principle of conversational helpfulness working in the
generation of conversational implicatura, that can only mean progress for
philosophy! Fregeian senses are not to be multiplied beyond necessity. The
employment of the routine of Humeian projection may be expected to deliver for
us, as its result, a concept – the concept(ion) of value, say, in
something like a Fregeian sense, rather than an object. There is also a
strong affinity between Freges treatment of colouring (of the German particle
aber, say) and Grices idea of a convetional implicaturum (She was poor, but she
was honest,/and her parents were the same,/till she met a city feller,/and she
lost her honest Names, as the vulgar Great War ditty went). Grice does not seem
interested in providing a philosophical exploration of conventional implicatura,
and there is a reason for this. Conventional implicatura are not
essentially connected, as conversational implicatura are, with rationality.
Conventional implicatura cannot be calculable. They have less of a
philosophical interest, too, in that they are not cancellable. Grice sees
cancellability as a way to prove some (contemporary to him, if dated)
ordinary-language philosophers who analyse an expression in terms of sense and
entailment, where a cancellable conversational implicaturum is all there is (to
it). He mentions Benjamin in Prolegomena, and is very careful in noting
how Benjamin misuses a Fregeian sense. In his Causal theory, Grice lists
another mistake: What is known to be the case is not believed to be the
case. Grice gives pretty few example of a conventional implicaturum:
therefore, as in the utterance by Jill: Jack is an Englishman; he is,
therefore, brave. This is interesting because therefore compares to so
which Strawson, in PGRICE, claims is the asserted counterpart to if. But
Strawson is never associated with the type of linguistic botany that Grice is.
Grice also mentions the idiom, on the one hand/on the other hand, in some
detail in “Epilogue”: My aunt was a nurse in the Great War; my sister, on the
other hand, lives on a peak at Darien. Grice thinks that Frege misuses the
use-mention distinction but Russell corrects that. Grice bases this on Church.
And of course he is obsessed with the assertion sign by Frege, which Grice
thinks has one stroke tooo many. The main reference is give above for
‘complexum.’ Those without a philosophical background tend to ignore a joke by
Grice. His echoing Kant in the James is a joke, in the sense that he is using
Katns well-known to be pretty artificial quartet of ontological caegories to
apply to a totally different phenomenon: the taxonomy of the maxims! In his
earlier non-jocular attempts, he applied more philosophical concepts with a
more serious rationale. His key concept, conversation as rational co-operation,
underlies all his attempts. A pretty worked-out model is in terms then of this
central, or overarching principle of conversational helpfulness (where
conversation as cooperation need not be qualified as conversation as rational
co-operation) and being structured by two contrasting sub-principles: the
principle of conversational benevolence (which almost overlaps with the
principle of conversational helpfulness) and the slightly more jocular
principle of conversational self-love. There is something oxymoronic about
self-love being conversational, and this is what leads to replace the two
subprinciples by a principle of conversational helfpulness (as used in WoW:IV)
simpliciter. His desideratum of conversational candour is key. The clash
between the desideratum of conversational candour and the desideratum of
conversational clarity (call them supermaxims) explains why I believe that p
(less clear than p) shows the primacy of candour over clarity. The idea remains
of an overarching principle and a set of more specific guidelines. Non-Oxonian
philosophers would see Grices appeal to this or that guideline as ad hoc, but
not his tutees! Grice finds inspiration in Joseph Butler’s sermon on benevolence
and self-love, in his sermon 9, upon the love of our neighbour, preached on
advent Sunday. And if there be any other commandment, it is briefly
comprehended in this saying, Namesly, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself,
Romans xiii. 9. It is commonly observed, that there is a disposition in
men to complain of the viciousness and corruption of the age in which they
live, as greater than that of former ones: which is usually followed with this
further observation, that mankind has been in that respect much the same in all
times. Now, to determine whether this last be not contradicted by the accounts
of history: thus much can scarce be doubted, that vice and folly takes
different turns, and some particular kinds of it are more open and avowed in
some ages than in others; and, I suppose, it may be spoken of as very much the
distinction of the present, to profess a contracted spirit, and greater regards
to self-interest, than appears to have been done formerly. Upon this account it
seems worth while to inquire, whether private interest is likely to be promoted
in proportion to the degree in which self-love engrosses us, and prevails over
all other principles; "or whether the contracted affection may not
possibly be so prevalent as to disappoint itself, and even contradict its own
end, private good?" Repr. in revised form as WOW, I. Grice felt
the need to go back to his explantion (cf. Fisher, Never contradict. Never
explain) of the nuances about seem and cause (“Causal theory”.). Grice uses ‘My
wife is in the kitchen or the bedroom,’ by Smith, as relying on a requirement
of discourse. But there must be more to it. Variations on a theme by Grice.
Make your contribution such as is required, at the stage at which it occurs, by
the accepted purpose or direction of the talk exchange in which you are
engaged. Variations on a theme by Grice. I wish to represent a certain
subclass of non-conventional implicaturcs, which I shall
call conversational implicaturcs, as being essentially connected with
certain general features of discourse; so my next step is to try to say what
these features are. The following may provide a first approximation to a
general principle. Our talk exchanges do not normally consist of a succession
of disconnected remarks, and would not be rational if they did. They are
characteristically, to some degree at least, cooperative efforts; and each participant
recognizes in them, to some extent, a common purpose or set of purposes, or at
least a mutually accepted direction. This purpose or direction may be fixed
from the start (e.g., by an initial proposal of a question for discussion), or
it may evolve during the exchange; it may be fairly definite, or it may be so
indefinite as to leave very considerable latitude to the participants, as in a
casual conversation. But at each stage, some possible conversational moves
would be excluded as conversationally unsuitable. We might then formulate a
rough general principle which participants will be expected ceteris paribus to
observe, viz.: Make your conversational contribution such as is required, at
the stage at which it occurs, by the accepted purpose or direction of the talk
exchange in which you are engaged. One might label this the co-operative
principle. We might then formulate a rough general principle which participants
will be expected ceteris paribus to observe,
viz.: Make your contribution such as is required, at the stage at
which it occurs, by the accepted purpose or direction of the talk exchange in
which you are engaged. One might label this the Cooperative Principle.
Strictly, the principle itself is not co-operative: conversants are. Less
literary variant: Make your move such as is required by the accepted goal
of the conversation in which you are engaged. But why logic and
conversation? Logica had been part of the trivium for ages ‒ Although they
called it dialectica, then. Grice on the seven liberal arts. Moved by
Strawsons treatment of the formal devices in “Introduction to logical theory”
(henceforth, “Logical theory”), Grice targets these, in their ordinary-discourse
counterparts. Strawson indeed characterizes Grice as his logic tutor – Strawson
was following a PPE., and his approach to logic is practical. His philosophy
tutor was Mabbott. For Grice, with a M. A. Lit. Hum. the situation is
different. Grice knows that the Categoriae and De Int. of his beloved Aristotle
are part of the Logical Organon which had been so influential in the history of
philosophy. Grice attempts to reconcile Strawsons observations with the
idea that the formal devices reproduce some sort of explicatum, or explicitum,
as identified by Whitehead and Russell in Principia Mathematica. In the
proceedings, Grice has to rely on some general features of discourse, or
conversation as a rational co-operation. The alleged divergence between the
ordinary-language operators and their formal counterparts is explained in terms
of the conversational implicatura, then. I.e. the content of the
psychological attitude that the addressee A has to ascribe to the utterer U to
account for any divergence between the formal device and its alleged
ordinary-language counterpart, while still assuming that U is engaged in a
co-operative transaction. The utterer and his addressee are seen as
caring for the mutual goals of conversation ‒ the exchange of
information and the institution of decisions ‒ and judging that
conversation will only be profitable (and thus reasonable and rational) if
conducted under some form of principle of conversational helpfulness. The
observation of a principle of conversational helpfulness is
reasonable (rational) along the following lines: anyone who cares
about the goals that are central to conversation/communication (such as giving
and receiving information, influencing and being influenced by others) must be
expected to have an interest, given suitable circumstances, in participating in
a conversation that will be profitable ONLY on the assumption that it is
conducted in general accordance with a principle of conversational
helpfulness. In titling his seminar Logic and conversation, Grice is
thinking Strawson. After all, in the seminal “Logical theory,” that every
Oxonian student was reading, Strawson had the cheek to admit that he never
ceased to learn logic from his tutor, Grice. Yet he elaborates a totally anti
Griceian view of things. To be fair to Strawson, the only segment where he
acknwoledges Grices difference of opinion is a brief footnote, concerning the
strength or lack thereof, of this or that quantified utterance. Strawson uses
an adjective that Grice will seldom do, pragmatic. On top, Strawson attributes
the adjective to rule. For Grice, in Strawsons wording, there is this or that
pragmatic rule to the effect that one should make a stronger rather than a
weaker conversational move. Strawsons Introduction was published before Grice
aired his views for the Aristotelian Society. In this seminar then Grice takes
the opportunity to correct a few misunderstandings. Important in that it
is Grices occasion to introduce the principle of conversational helpfulness as
generating implicatura under the assumption of rationality. The lecture makes
it obvious that Grices interest is methodological, and not philological. He is
not interest in conversation per se, but only as the source for his principle
of conversational helpfulness and the notion of the conversational implicaturum,
which springs from the distinction between what an utterer implies and what his
expression does, a distinction apparently denied by Witters and all too
frequently ignored by Austin. Logic and conversation, an Oxford seminar, implicaturum,
principle of conversational helpfulness, eywords: conversational implicaturum,
conversational implicaturum. Conversational Implicaturum Grices main
invention, one which trades on the distinction between what an utterer implies
and what his expression does. A distinction apparently denied by Witters,
and all too frequently ignored by, of all people, Austin. Grice is
implicating that Austins sympathies were for the Subjectsification of
Linguistic Nature. Grice remains an obdurate individualist, and never
loses sight of the distinction that gives rise to the conversational implicaturum,
which can very well be hyper-contextualised, idiosyncratic, and perfectly
particularized. His gives an Oxonian example. I can very well mean that my tutee
is to bring me a philosophical essay next week by uttering It is raining.Grice
notes that since the object of the present exercise, is to provide
a bit of theory which will explain, for a certain family of
cases, why is it that a particular implicaturum is present, I
would suggest that the final test of the adequacy and utility of this
model should be: can it be used to construct an explanation of
the presence of such an implicaturum, and is it more comprehensive
and more economical than any rival? is the no
doubt pre-theoretical explanation which one would be prompted to give
of such an implicaturum consistent with, or better still a favourable pointer
towards the requirements involved in the model? cf. Sidonius: Far otherwise:
whoever disputes with you will find those protagonists of heresy, the Stoics,
Cynics, and Peripatetics, shattered with their own arms and their
own engines; for their heathen followers, if they resist the doctrine and
spirit of Christianity, will, under your teaching, be caught in their own
familiar entanglements, and fall headlong into their own toils; the barbed
syllogism of your arguments will hook the glib tongues of the
casuists, and it is you who will tie up their slippery
questions in categorical clews, after the manner of a clever
physician, who, when compelled by reasoned thought, prepares antidotes for
poison even from a serpent.qvin potivs experietvr qvisqve conflixerit stoicos
cynicos peripateticos hæresiarchas propriis armis propriis qvoqve concvti
machinamentis nam sectatores eorum Christiano dogmati ac sensvi si
repvgnaverint mox te magistro ligati vernaculis implicaturis in retia
sua præcipites implagabvntur syllogismis tuæ propositionis vncatis volvbilem
tergiversantvm lingvam inhamantibvs dum spiris categoricis lubricas qvæstiones
tv potivs innodas acrivm more medicorvm qui remedivm contra venena cum ratio
compellit et de serpente conficivnt. If he lectured on Logic and
Conversation on implicaturum, Grice must have thought that Strawsons area was
central. Yet, as he had done in Causal theory and as he will at Harvard, Grice
kept collecting philosophers mistakes. So its best to see Grice as a
methodologist, and as using logic and conversation as an illustration of his
favourite manoeuvre, indeed, central philosophical manoeuver that gave him a
place in the history of philosophy. Restricting this manoeuvre to just an area
minimises it. On the other hand, there has to be a balance: surely logic and
conversation is a topic of intrinsic interest, and we cannot expect all philosophers
– unless they are Griceians – to keep a broad unitarian view of philosophy
as a virtuous whole. Philosophy, like virtue, is entire. Destructive implicaturum
to it: Mr. Puddle is our man in æsthetics implicates that he is not good at it.
What is important to Grice is that the mistakes of these philosophers (notably
Strawson!) arise from some linguistic phenomena, or, since we must use singular
expressions this or that linguistic phenomenon. Or as Grice puts it, it is this
or that linguistic phenomenon which provides the material for the philosopher
to make his mistake! So, to solve it, his theory of conversation as rational
co-operation is posited – technically, as a way to explain (never merely
describe, which Grice found boring ‒ if English, cf. never explain, never
apologise ‒ Jacky Fisher: Never contradict. Never explain.) these phenomena –
his principle of conversational helpfulness and the idea of a conversational implicaturum.
The latter is based not so much on rationality per se, but on the
implicit-explicit distinction that he constantly plays with, since his earlier
semiotic-oriented explorations of Peirce. But back to this or that linguistic
phenomenon, while he would make fun of Searle for providing this or that
linguistic phenomenon that no philosopher would ever feel excited about, Grice
himself was a bit of a master in illustrating this a philosophical point with
this or that linguistic phenomenon that would not be necessarily connected with
philosophy. Grice rarely quotes authors, but surely the section in “Causal
theory,” where he lists seven philosophical theses (which are ripe for an implicaturum
treatment) would be familiar enough for anybody to be able to drop a names to
attach to each. At Harvard, almost every example Grice gives of this or that
linguistic phenomenon is UN-authored (and sometimes he expands on his own view
of them, just to amuse his audience – and show how committed to this or that
thesis he was), but some are not unauthored. And they all belong to the
linguistic turn: In his three groups of examples, Grice quotes from Ryle (who
thinks he knows about ordinary language), Witters, Austin (he quotes him in
great detail, from Pretending, Plea of excuses, and No modification without
aberration,), Strawson (in “Logical theory” and on Truth for Analysis), Hart
(as I have heard him expand on this), Grice, Searle, and Benjamin. Grice
implicates Hare on ‘good,’ etc. When we mention the explicit/implicit
distinction as source for the implicaturum, we are referring to Grices own
wording in Retrospective epilogue where he mentions an utterer as conveying in
some explicit fashion this or that, as opposed to a gentler, more (midland or
southern) English, way, via implicaturum, or implIciture, if you mustnt. Cf.
Fowler: As a southern Englishman, Ive stopped trying teaching a northern
Englishman the distinction between ought and shall. He seems to get it always
wrong. It may be worth exploring how this connects with rationality. His point
would be that that an assumption that the rational principle of conversational
helpfulness is in order allows P-1 not just to convey in a direct explicit
fashion that p, but in an implicit fashion that q, where q is the implicaturum.
The principle of conversational helpfulness as generator of this or that implicatura,
to use Grices word (generate). Surely, He took off his boots and went to bed; I
wont say in which order sounds hardly in the vein of conversational helpfulness
– but provided Grice does not see it as logically incoherent, it is still a
rational (if not reasonable) thing to say. The point may be difficult to
discern, but you never know. The utterer may be conveying, Viva Boole. Grices
point about rationality is mentioned in his later Prolegomena, on at least two
occasions. Rational behaviour is the phrase he uses (as applied first to
communication and then to discourse) and in stark opposition with a
convention-based approach he rightly associates with Austin. Grice is here less
interested here as he will be on rationality, but coooperation as such.
Helpfulness as a reasonable expecation (normative?), a mutual one between
decent chaps, as he puts it. His charming decent chap is so Oxonian. His tutee
would expect no less ‒ and indeed no more! A rather obscure exploration on the
connection of semiotics and philosophical psychology. Grice is aware that there
is an allegation in the air about a possible vicious circle in trying to define
category of expression in terms of a category of representation. He does not
provide a solution to the problem which hell take up in his Method in
philosophical psychology, in his role of President of the APA. It is the implicaturum
behind the lecture that matters, since Grice will go back to it, notably in the
Retrospective Epilogue. For Grice, its all rational enough. Theres a P, in a
situation, say of danger – a bull ‒. He perceives the bull. The bulls attack
causes this perception. Bull! the P1 G1 screams, and causes in
P2 G2 a rearguard movement. So where is the circularity? Some
pedants would have it that Bull cannot be understood in a belief about a bull
which is about a bull. Not Grice. It is nice that he brought back implicaturum,
which had become obliterated in the lectures, back to title position! But it is
also noteworthy, that these are not explicitly rationalist models for implicaturum.
He had played with a model, and an explanatory one at that, for implicaturum,
in his Oxford seminar, in terms of a principle of conversational helpfulness, a
desideratum of conversational clarity, a desideratum of conversational candour,
and two sub-principles: a principle of conversational benevolence, and a
principle of conversational self-interest! Surely Harvard could be spared of
the details! Implicaturum. Grice disliked a presupposition. BANC also contains
a folder for Odd ends: Urbana and non-Urbana. Grice continues with the
elaboration of a formal calculus. He originally baptised it System Q in honour
of Quine. At a later stage, Myro will re-Names it System G, in a special
version, System GHP, a highly powerful/hopefully plausible version of System G,
in gratitude to Grice. Odd Ends: Urbana and Not Urbana, Odds and ends: Urbana
and not Urbana, or not-Urbana, or Odds and ends: Urbana and non Urbana, or Oddents,
urbane and not urbane, semantics, Urbana lectures. The Urbana lectures are
on language and reality. Grice keeps revising them, as these items
show. Language and reality, The University of Illinois at Urbana, The
Urbana Lectures, Language and reference, language and reality, The Urbana
lectures, University of Illinois at Urbana, language, reference, reality. Grice
favours a transcendental approach to communication. A beliefs by a communicator
worth communicating has to be true. An order by a communicator worth
communicating has to be satisfactory. The fourth lecture is the one Grice dates
in WOW . Smith has not ceased from beating his wife, presupposition and
conversational implicaturum, in Radical pragmatics, ed. by R. Cole, repr. in a
revised form in Grice, WOW, II, Explorations in semantics and metaphysics,
essay, presupposition and implicaturum, presupposition, conversational implicaturum,
implicaturum, Strawson. Grice: The loyalty examiner will not summon you, do not
worry. The cancellation by Grice could be pretty subtle. Well, the loyalty
examiner will not be summoning you at any rate. Grice goes back to the issue of
negation and not. If, Grice notes, is is a matter of dispute whether the
government has a very undercover person who interrogates those whose loyalty is
suspect and who, if he existed, could be legitimately referred to as the
loyalty examiner; and if, further, I am known to be very sceptical about the
existence of such a person, I could perfectly well say to a plainly loyal
person, Well, the loyalty examiner will not be summoning you at any rate,
without, Grice would think, being taken to imply that such a person
exists. Further, if the utterer U is well known to disbelieve in the existence
of such a person, though others are inclined to believe in him, when U finds a
man who is apprised of Us position, but who is worried in case he is summoned,
U may try to reassure him by uttering, The loyalty examiner will not summon
you, do not worry. Then it would be clear that U uttered this because U is sure
there is no such person. The lecture was variously reprinted, but the Urbana
should remain the preferred citation. There are divergences in the various
drafts, though. The original source of this exploration was a seminar.
Grice is interested in re-conceptualising Strawsons manoeuvre regarding
presupposition as involving what Grice disregards as a metaphysical concoction:
the truth-value gap. In Grices view, based on a principle of conversational
tailoring that falls under his principle of conversational
helpfulness ‒ indeed under the desideratum of conversational clarity
(be perspicuous [sic]). The king of France is bald entails there is a king of
France; while The king of France aint bald merely implicates it. Grice
much preferred Collingwoods to Strawsons presuppositions! Grice thought, and
rightly, too, that if his notion of the conversational implicaturum was to gain
Oxonian currency, it should supersede Strawsons idea of the
præ-suppositum. Strawson, in his attack to Russell, had been playing with
Quines idea of a truth-value gap. Grice shows that neither the metaphysical
concoction of a truth-value gap nor the philosophical tool of the
præ-suppositum is needed. The king of France is bald entails that there is a
king of France. It is part of what U is logically committed to by what he
explicitly conveys. By uttering, The king of France is not bald on the other
hand, U merely implicitly conveys or implicates that there is a king of France.
A perfectly adequate, or impeccable, as Grice prefers, cancellation, abiding
with the principle of conversational helpfulness is in the offing. The king of
France ain’t bald. What made you think he is? For starters, he ain’t real!
Grice credits Sluga for having pointed out to him the way to deal with the
definite descriptor or definite article or the iota quantifier the formally.
One thing Russell discovered is that the variable denoting function is to be
deduced from the variable propositional function, and is not to be taken as an
indefinable. Russell tries to do without the iota i as an indefinable, but
fails. The success by Russell later, in On denoting, is the source of all his
subsequent progress. The iota quantifier consists of an inverted iota to be
read the individuum x, as in (℩x).F(x). Grice opts for the
Whiteheadian-Russellian standard rendition, in terms of the iota operator.
Grices take on Strawson is a strong one. The king of France is bald; entails
there is a king of France, and what the utterer explicitly conveys is
doxastically unsatisfactory. The king of France aint bald does not. By uttering
The king of France aint bald U only implicates that there is a king of France,
and what he explicitly conveys is doxastically satisfactory. Grice knew he was
not exactly robbing Peter to pay Paul, or did he? It is worth placing the
lecture in context. Soon after delivering in the New World his exploration on
the implicaturum, Grice has no better idea than to promote Strawsons philosophy
in the New World. Strawson will later reflect on the colder shores of the Old
World, so we know what Grice had in mind! Strawsons main claim to fame in the
New World (and at least Oxford in the Old World) was his On referring, where he
had had the cheek to say that by uttering, The king of France is not bald, the
utterer implies that there is a king of France (if not that, as Grice has it,
that what U explicitly conveys is doxastically satisfactory. Strawson later
changed that to the utterer presupposes that there is a king of France. So
Grice knows what and who he was dealing with. Grice and Strawson had
entertained Quine at Oxford, and Strawson was particularly keen on that turn of
phrase he learned from Quine, the truth-value gap. Grice, rather, found it
pretty repulsive: Tertium exclusum! So, Grice goes on to argue that by uttering
The king of France is bald, one entailment of what U explicitly conveys is
indeed There is a king of France. However, in its negative co-relate, things
change. By uttering The king of France aint bald, the utterer merely implicitly
conveys or implicates (in a pretty cancellable format) that there is a king of
France. The king of France aint bald: theres no king of France! The loyalty
examiner is like the King of France, in ways! The piece is crucial for Grices
re-introduction of the square-bracket device: [The king of France] is bald;
[The king of France] aint bald. Whatever falls within the scope of the square
brackets is to be read as having attained common-ground status and therefore,
out of the question, to use Collingwoods jargon! Grice was very familiar with
Collingwood on presupposition, meant as an attack on Ayer. Collingwoods
reflections on presuppositions being either relative or absolute may well lie
behind Grices metaphysical construction of absolute value! The earliest
exploration by Grice on this is his infamous, Smith has not ceased from beating
his wife, discussed by Ewing in Meaninglessness for Mind. Grice goes back to
the example in the excursus on implying that in Causal Theory, and it is best
to revisit this source. Note that in the reprint in WOW Grice does NOT go, one
example of presupposition, which eventually is a type of conversational implicaturum.
Grices antipathy to Strawsons presupposition is metaphysical: he dislikes the
idea of a satisfactory-value-gap, as he notes in the second paragraph to Logic
and conversation. And his antipathy crossed the buletic-doxastic divide! Using φ to represent a sentence in either mode,
he stipulate that ~φ is satisfactory just in case ⌈φ⌉ is unsatisfactory. A crunch,
as he puts it, becomes obvious: ~ ⊢The king of France is bald may perhaps be
treated as equivalent to ⊢~(The king of
France is bald). But what about ~!Arrest the intruder? What do we say in cases
like, perhaps, Let it be that I now put my hand on my head or Let it be that my
bicycle faces north, in which (at least on occasion) it seems to be that
neither !p nor !~p is either satisfactory or unsatisfactory? If !p is neither
satisfactory nor unsatisfactory (if that make sense, which doesnt to me), does
the philosopher assign a third buletically satisfactory value (0.5) to !p
(buletically neuter, or indifferent). Or does the philosopher say that we have
a buletically satisfactory value gap, as Strawson, following Quine, might
prefer? This may require careful consideration; but I cannot see that the
problem proves insoluble, any more than the analogous problem connected with
Strawsons doxastic presupposition is insoluble. The difficulty is not so much
to find a solution as to select the best solution from those which present
themselves. The main reference is Essay 2 in WoW, but there are scattered
references elsewhere. Refs.: The main sources are the two
sets of ‘logic and conversation,’ in BANC, but there are scattered essays on ‘implicaturum’
simpliciter, too -- “Presupposition and
conversational implicaturum,” c. 2-f. 25; and “Convesational implicaturum,” c.
4-f. 9, “Happiness, discipline, and implicaturums,” c. 7-f. 6; “Presupposition
and implicaturum,” c. 9-f. 3, The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.
conversational manual: -- Grice was fascinated by the etymology of ‘etiquette’ – from
Frankish *stikkan, cognate with Old English stician "to pierce," from
Proto-Germanic *stikken "to be stuck," stative form from PIE *steig-
"to stick; pointed" (It.
etichetta) -- of conversational rational etiquette -- conversational iimmanuel,
cnversational manual. Before playing with ‘immanuel,’ Grice does use ‘manual’
more technically. A know-how. “Surely, I can have a manual, but don’t know how
to play bridge.” “That’s not how I’m using ‘manual.’” It should be pointed out
that it’s the visual thing that influenced. When people (especially
non-philosophers) saw the list of maxims, they thought: “Washington!” “A
manual!”. In the Oxford seminrs, Grice was never so ‘additive.’ His desideratum
of conversational clarity, his desideratum of conversational candour, his
principle of conversational self-love and his principle of conversational
benevolence, plus his principle of conversational helpfulness, were meant as
‘philosophical’ leads to explain this or that philosophical mistake. The
seminars were given for philosophy tutees. And Grice is playing on the ‘manuals
of etiquette’ – conversational etiquette. If you do not BELONG to this targeted
audience, it is likely that you’ll misconstrue Grice’s point, and you will!
Especially R. T. L.!The Gentlemen's Book of Etiquette and Manual of Politeness
Being a Complete Guide for a Gentleman's Conduct in All His Relations Towards
Society by Cecil B. Hartley. Wit and vivacity are two highly important
ingredients in the conversation of a man in polite society, yet a straining for
effect, or forced wit, is in excessively bad taste. There is no one more
insupportable in society than the everlasting talkers who scatter puns,
witticisms, and jokes with so profuse a hand that they become as tiresome as a
comic newspaper, and whose loud laugh at their own wit drowns other voices which
might speak matter more interesting. The really witty man does not shower forth
his wit so indiscriminately; his charm consists in wielding his powerful weapon
delicately and easily, and making each highly polished witticism come in the
right place and moment to be effectual. While real wit is a most delightful
gift, and its use a most charming accomplishment, it is, like many other bright
weapons, dangerous to use too often. You may wound where you meant only to
amuse, and remarks which you mean only in for general applications, may be
construed into personal affronts, so, if you have the gift, use it wisely, and
not too freely. The most important requisite for a good conversational power is
education, and, by this is meant, not merely the matter you may store in your
memory from observation or books, though this is of vast importance, but it
also includes the developing of the mental powers, and, above all, the
comprehension. An English writer says, “A man should be able, in order to enter
into conversation, to catch rapidly the meaning of anything that is advanced;
for instance, though you know nothing of science, you should not be obliged to
stare and be silent, when a man who does understand it is explaining a new
discovery or a new theory; though you have not read a word of Blackstone, your
comprehensive powers should be sufficiently acute to enable you to take in the
statement that may be made of a recent cause; though you may not have read some
particular book, you should be capable of appreciating the criticism which you
hear of it. Without such power—simple enough, and easily attained by attention
and practice, yet too seldom met with in general society—a conversation which
departs from the most ordinary topics cannot be maintained without the risk of
lapsing into a lecture; with such power, society becomes instructive as well as
amusing, and you have no remorse at an evening’s end at having wasted three or
four hours in profitless banter, or simpering platitudes. This facility of
comprehension often startles us in some women, whose education we know to have
been poor, and whose reading is limited. If they did not rapidly receive your
ideas, they could not, therefore, be fit companions for intellectual men, and
it is, perhaps, their consciousness of a deficiency which leads them to pay the
more attention to what you say. It is this which makes married women so much
more agreeable to men of thought than young ladies, as a rule, can be, for they
are accustomed to the society of a husband, and the effort to be a companion to
his mind has engrafted the habit of attention and ready reply.” Refs.: H. P.
Grice, “Paget’s conversational manual.”
conversational maxim. The idea of a maxim implies freewill and freedom in
general. A beautiful thing about Grice’s conversational maxims is that surely
they do not ‘need to be necessarily’ independent, as Strawson and Wiggins emphatically
put it (p.520). The important thing is other. A conversational maxim is
UNIVERSALISABLE (v. universalierung) into a ‘manual,’ the “Immanuel,” strictly,
the “Conversational Immanuel.” Grice is making fun of those ‘conversational
manuals’ for the learning of some European language in the Grand Tour (as in
“Learn Swiss in five easy lessons”). Grice is echoing Kant. Maximen (subjektive
Grundsätze): selbstgesetzte Handlungsregeln, die ein Wollen ausdrücken, vs.
Imperative (objektive Grundsätze): durch praktische Vernunft bestimmt;
Ratschläge, moralisch relevante Grundsätze. („das Gesetz aber ist das objektive
Prinzip, gültig für jedes vernünftige Wesen, und der Grundsatz, nach dem es
handeln soll, d. i. ein Imperativ.“) das Problem ist jedoch die Subjektivität
der Maxime. When considering Grice’s concept of a ‘conversational maxim,’ one
has to be careful. First, he hesitated as to the choice of the label. He used
‘objective’ and ‘desideratum’ before. And while few cite this, in WoW:PandCI he
adds one – leading the number of maxims to ten, what he called the
‘conversational catalogue.’ So when exploring the maxims, it is not necessary
to see their dependence on the four functions that Kant tabulated: quantitas,
qualitas, relatio, and modus, or quantity, quality, relation, and mode (Grice
follows Meiklejohn’s translation), but in terms of their own formulation, one
by one. Grice
formulates the overarching principle: “We might then formulate a rough general
principle which participants will be expected (ceteris paribus) to observe,
namely: Make your conversational contribution such as is required, at the stage
at which it occurs, by the accepted purpose or direction of the talk exchange
in which you are engaged. One might label this the COOPEHATIVE PIUNCIPLE.”He
then goes on to introduce the concept of a ‘conversational maxim.’“On the
assumption that some such general principle as this is acceptable, one may
perhaps distinguish four categories under one or another of which will fall
certain more specific MAXIMS maxims and
submaxims, the following of which will, in general, yield results in accordance
with the Cooperative Principle.” Note that in his
comparative “more specific maxims,” he is implicating that, in terms of the
force, the principle is a MAXIM. Had he not wanted this implicaturum, he could
have expressed it as: “On the assumption that some such general principle as
this is acceptable, one may perhaps distinguish four categories under one or
another of which will fall certain MAXIMS.”
He is
comparing the principle with the maxims in terms of ‘specificity.’ I.e. the
principle is the ‘summun genus,’ as it were, the category is the ‘inferior
genus,’ and the maxim is the ‘species infima.’He is having in mind something
like arbor porphyriana. For why otherwise care to distinguish in the
introductory passage, between ‘maxims and submaxims.’ This use of ‘submaxim’ is
very interesting. Because it is unique. He would rather call the four maxims as
SUPRA-maxims, supermaxim, or supramaxim. And leaving ‘maxim’ for what here he
is calling the submaxim.Note that if one challenges the ‘species infima,’ one
may proceed to distinguish this or that sub-sub-maxim falling under the maxim.
Take “Do not say that for which you lack adequate evidence.” Since this, as he
grants, applies mainly to informative cases, one may consider that it is
actually a subsubmaxim. The submaxim would be: “Do not say that for which you
are not entitled” (alla Nowell-Smith). And then provide one subsubmaxim for the
desideratum: “Do not give an order which you are not entitled to give” or “Do
not order that for you lack adequate authority,” and the other subsubmaxim for
the creditum: “Do not say that for which you lack adequate evidence.”Grice: “Echoing
Kant, I call these categories Quantity, Quality, Relation, and Manner.” Or
Mode. “Manner” may be Ross’s translation of Aristotle’s ‘mode.’ Consider the
exploration of Aristotle on ‘modus’ in Categoriae. It is such a mixed bag that
surely ‘manner’ is not inappropriate!“The category of QUANTITY” – i. e. either
the conversational category of quantity, or as one might prefer, the category
of conversational quantity – “relates to the quantity of information to be
provided,”So it’s not just ANY QUANTUM, as Aristotle or Kant, or Ariskant have
it – just QUANTITY OF INFORMATION, whatever ‘information’ is, and how the
quantity of information is to be assessed. E g. Grice surely shed doubts re:
the pillar box seems red and the pillar box is red. He had till now used
‘strength,’ even ‘logical strength,’ in terms of entailment – and here, neither
the phenomenalist nor the physicalist utterance entail the other.“and under it
fall the following maxims:”That is, he goes straight to the ‘conversational
maxim.’ He will provide supermaxim for the other three conversational
categories.Why is the category of conversational quantity lacking a
supermaxim?The reason is that it would seem redundant and verbose: ‘be appropriately
informative.’ By having TWO maxims, he is playing with a weighing in, or
balance between one maxim and the other. Cf.To say the truth, all the truth,
and nothing but the truth.No more no less.One maximm states the ‘at most,’ the
other maxim states the ‘at least.’One maxim states the ‘maxi,’ the other maxim
states the ‘min.’ Together they state the ‘maximin.’First, “Make your
contribution as informative as is required (for the current purposes of the exchange).”It’s
the contribution which is informative, not the utterer. Cf. “Be as informative
as is required.” Grice implicates that if you make your contribution as
informative as is required YOU are being as informative as is required. But
there is a category-shift here. Grice means, ‘required BY the goal of the
exchange). e.g.How are youFine thanks – the ‘and you’ depends on whether you
are willing to ‘keep the conversation going’ or your general mood. Second, “Do
not make your contribution more informative than is required.”“ (The second
maxim is disputable;”He goes on to give a different reason. But the primary
reason is that “Do not make your contribution more informative than is
required” is ENTAILED by “Make your contribution as informative as is required
(for the current purposes of the exchange)” – vide R. M. Hare on “Imperative
inferences” IN a diagram:Make your contribution as informative as is required
(for the current purposes of the exchange)Therefore, do not make your
contribution more informative than is required (by the current purposes of the
exchange).Grice gives another reason (he will give yet a further one) why the
maxim is ‘disputable.’“it might be said that to be overinformative is not a
transgression of the CP but merely a waste of time.”For both
conversationalists, who are thereby abiding by Ferraro’s law of the least
conversational effort.”“A waste of time” relates to Grice’s previous
elaborations on ‘undue effort’ and ‘unnecessary trouble.’He is proposing a
conversational maximin.When he formulates his principle of economy of rational
effort, it is a waste of ‘time and energy.’Here it is just ‘time.’ “Energy” is
a more generic concept.“However, it might be answered that such
overinformativeness may be confusing in that it is liable to raise side
issues;”Methinks the lady doth protest too much.His example, “He was in a
blacked out city.”It does not seem to relate to the pillar boxA: What color is
the pillar boxB: It seems red.Such a ‘confusion’ and ‘side issue,’ if so
designed, is part of the implicaturum.“and there may also be an indirect
effect, in that the hearers (or addressee) may be misled as a result of
thinking that there is some particular POINT in the provision of the excess of
information.”Cf. Peter Winch on “H. P. Grice’s Conversational Point.”More
boringly, it is part of the utterer’s INTENTION to provide an excess of
information.”This may be counterproductive, or not.“Meet Mr. Puddle”“Meet Mr.
Puddle, our man in nineteenth-century continental philosophy.”The introducer
point: to keep the conversation going.Effect on Grice: Mr. Puddle is hopeless
at nineteenth-century continental philosophy (OR HE IS BEING UNDERDESCRIBED). One
has to think of philosophically relevant examples here, which is all that Grice
cares for. Malcolm says, “Moore knows it; because he’s seen it!” – Malcolm
implicates that Grice will not take Malcolm’s word. So Malcom needs to provide
the excess of information, and add, to his use of ‘know,’ which Malcolm claims
Moore does not know how to use, the ‘reason’ – If knowledge is justified true
belief, Malcolm is conveying explicitly that Moore knows and ONE OF THE
CONDITIONS for it. Cf.I didn’t know you were pregnant.You still do not. (Here
the cancellation is to the third clause). Grice: “However this may be, there is
perhaps a different [second] reason for doubt about the admission of this
second maxim, viz., that its effect will be secured by a later maxim, which
concems relevance.)”He could be a lecturer. His use of ‘later’ entails he knows
in advance what he is going to say. Cf. Foucault:“there is another reason to
doubt. The effect is secured by a maxim concerning relevance.”No “later” about
it!Grice:“Under the category of QUALITY falls a supermaxim” – he forgets to
add, as per obvious, “The category of quality relates to the QUALITY of
information.” In this way, there is some reference to Aristotle’s summumm
genus. PROPOSITIO DEDICATIVA, PROPOSITIO ABDICATIVA, PROPOSITIO INFINITA. Cf.
Apuleius and Boethius on QUALITAS of propositio. Dedicatio takes priority over
abdicatio. So one expects one’s co-conversationalist to say that something IS
the case. Note too, that, if he used “more specific maxims and submaxims,” he
means “more specific supermaxims and maxims” – He is following Porophyry in
being confusing! Cf. supramaxim. Grice “-'Try to make your contribution one
that is true' –“This surely requires generality – and Grice spent the next two
decades about it. He introduced the predicate ‘acceptability.’ “Try to make
your contribution one that is acceptable”“True for your statements; good for
your desiderative-mode utterances.”“and two more specific maxims:”“1. Do not say
what you believe to be false.”There is logic here. It is easy to TRY to make
your contribution one that is true.” And it is easy NOT to say what you believe
to be false. Grice is forbidding Kant to have a maxim on us: “Be truthful!”
“Say the true!” “MAKE – don’t just TRY – to make your contribution one that is
true.”“I was only trying.”Cf. Moses, “Try not to kill” “Thou shalt trye not to
kylle.”Grice:“2. Do not say that for which you lack adequate evidence.”This is
involved with truth. In “Truth and other enigmas,” Dummett claims that truth
is, er, an enigma. For some philosophers, all you can guarantee is that you
have evidence. Lacking evidence for what?The qualification, “adequate,” turns the
maxim slightly otiose. Do not say that for you lack evidence which would make
your contribution not a true one.However, Grice is thinking Gettier. And
Gettier allows that one CAN have ADEQUATE EVIDENCE, and p NOT be true.If we are
talking ‘acceptability’ it’s more ‘ground’ or ‘reason’, rather than ‘evidential
justification.’ Grice is especially obsessed with this, in his explorations on
‘intending,’ where ‘acceptance’ is deemed even in the lack of ‘evidential
justification,’ and leaving him wondering what he means by ‘non-evidential
justification.’“Under the category of RELATION I place a single maxim, viz.,
'Be relevant.'”The category comes from Aristotle, ‘pros it.’ And ‘re-‘ in
relation is cognate with ‘re-‘ in ‘relevant.’RELATION refers to ‘refer,’ Roman
‘referre.’ But in Anglo-Norman, you do have ‘relate’ qua verb. To ‘refer’ or
‘re-late,’ is to bring y back to x. As Russell well knows in his fight with
Bradley’s theory of ‘relation,’ a relation involves x and y. A relation is a two-place
predicate. What about X = xIs identity a relation, in the case of x = x?Can a
thing relate to itself?In cases where we introduce two variables. The maxim
states that one brings y back to x.“Mrs. Smith is an old windbag.”“The weather
has been delightful for this time of year, hasn’t it.”If INTENDED to mean, “You
ARE ignorant!,” then the conversationalist IS bring back “totally otiose remark
about the weather” to the previous insulting comment.To utter an utterly
irrelevant second move you have to be Andre Breton.“Though the maxim itself is
terse, its formulation conceals a number of problems that exercise me a good
deal: questions about what different kinds and focuses of relevance there may
be, how these shift in the course of a talk exchange, how to allow for the fact
that subjects of conversation are legitimately changed, and so on. I find the
treatment of such questions exceedingly difficult, and I hope to revert to them
in a later work.”He is having in mind Nowell-Smith, who had ‘be relevant’ as
the most important of the rules of conversational etiquette, or how etiquette
becomes logical. But Nowell-Smith felt overwhelmed by Grice and left for the
north, to settle in the very fashionable Kent. Grice is also having in mind
Urmson’s appositeness (Criteria of intensionality). “Why did you title your
painting “Maga’s Daughter”? She’s your wife!” – and Grice is also having in
mind P. F. Strawson and what Strawson has as the principle of relevance
vis-à-vis the principles of presumption of ignorance and knowledge.So it was in
the Oxonian air.“Finally, under the category of MODE, which I understand as
relating not (like the previous categories) to what is said [THE CONTENT, THE
EXPLICITUM, THE COMMUNICATUM, THE EXPLICATUM] but, rather, to HOW what is said
is to be said,”Grice says that ‘meaning’ is diaphanous. An utterer means that p
reduces to what an utterer means by x. This diaphanousness ‘meaning’ shares
with ‘seeing.’ “To expand on the experience of seeing is just to expand on what
is seen.’He is having the form-content distinction.If that is a distinction. This
multi-layered dialectic displays the true nature of the speculative
form/content distinction: all content is form and all form is content, not in a
uniform way, but through being always more or less relatively indifferent or
posited. The Role of the Form/Content
Distinction in Hegel's Science of ...deontologistics.files.wordpress.com ›
2012/01 › formc... PDF Feedback About Featured Snippets Web results The Form-Content Distinction in Moral
Development Researchwww.karger.com › Article › PDF The form-content distinction
is a potentially useful conceptual device for understanding certain
characteristics of moral development. In the most general sense it ... by CG
Levine - 1979 - Cited by 25 - Related articles The
Form-Content Distinction in Moral Development Research ...www.karger.com ›
Article › Abstract Dec 23, 2009 - The Form-Content Distinction in Moral
Development Research. Levine C.G.. Author affiliations. University of Western
Ontario, London, Ont. by CG Levine - 1979 - Cited by 25 - Related
articles Preschool children's mastery
of the form/content distinction in ...www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov › pubmed Preschool
children's mastery of the form/content distinction in communicative tasks.
Hedelin L(1), Hjelmquist E. Author information: (1)Department of Psychology,
... by L Hedelin - 1998 - Cited by 10 - Related articles Form and Content: An Introduction to Formal
Logic - Digital ...digitalcommons.conncoll.edu › cgi › viewcontentPDF
terminology has to do with anything. In this context, 'material' means having
to do with content. This is our old friend, the form/content distinction again.
Consider. by DD Turner - 2020
Simmel's Dialectic of Form and Content in Recent Work in
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duality.11 Ronald L. Breiger, “The Duality of ... Are these distinctions between “form” and
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are_th... The form/content distinction also doesn't quite fit the distinction
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distinction between form ... Preschool
Children's Mastery of the Form/Content Distinction ...link.springer.com ›
article Preschoolers' mastery of the form/content distinction in language and
communication, along its contingency on the characteristics of p. by L Hedelin
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Verbal Art: A Philosophy of Literature and Literary
Experiencebooks.google.com › books Even if form and content were in fact
inseparable in the sense indicated, that would not make the form/content
distinction unjustified. Form and matter are clearly ... Anders Pettersson -
2001 - Literary Criticism One Century
of Karl Jaspers' General Psychopathologybooks.google.com › books He then
outlines the most important implications of the form–content distinction in a
statement which is identical in the first three editions, with only minor ...
Giovanni Stanghellini, Thomas Fuchs - 2013 - Medical“I include the
supermaxim-'Be perspicuous' –” Or supramaxim. So the “more specific maxims and
submaxims” becomes the clumsier “supermaxims and maxims”Note that in under the
first category it is about making your contribution, etc. Now it is the utterer
himself who has to be ‘perspicuous,’ as it is the utterer who has to be
relevant. It’s not the weaker, “Make your contribution a perspicuous one.” Or
“Make your contribution a relevant one (to the purposes of the exchange).”Knowing
that most confound ‘perspicacity’ with ‘perspicuity,’ he added “sic,” but
forgot to pronounce it, in case it was felt as insulting. He has another ‘sic’
under the prolixity maxim.“and various maxims such as: The “such as” is a
colloquialism.Surely it was added in the ‘lecture’ format. In written, it
becomes viz. The fact that the numbers them makes for ‘such as’ rather disimplicaturable.
“1. Avoid obscurity of expression.”Unless you are Heracleitus. THEY told me,
Heraclitus, they told me you were dead, /They brought me bitter news to hear
and bitter tears to shed./I wept as I remember'd how often you and I/Had tired
the sun with talking and sent him down the sky./And now that thou art lying, my
dear old Carian guest,/A handful of grey ashes, long, long ago at rest,/Still
are thy pleasant voices, thy nightingales, awake;/For Death, he taketh all
away, but them he cannot take. In a way this is entailed by “Be perspicuous,”
if that means ‘be clear,’ in obtuse English.Be clearTherefore, or what is the
same thing. Thou shalt not not be obscure.2. Avoid ambiguity.”Except as a
trope, or ‘figure, (schema, figura). “Aequi-vocate, if that will please your
clever addressee.” Cf. Parker’s zeugma: “My apartment was so small, that I've
barely enough room to lay a hat and a few friends“3. Be brief (avoid unnecessary
prolixity).”Here he added a ‘sic’ that he failed to pronounce in case it may
felt as insulting. But the idea of a self-refuting conversational maxim is
surely Griceian, in a quessertive way. Since this concerns FORM rather than
CONTENT, it is not meant to overlap with ‘informativeness.’So given that p and
q are equally informative, if q is less brief (longer – ars longa, vita
brevis), utter p. This has nothing to do with logical strength. It is just to
be assessed in a SYNTACTICAL way.Vide “Syntactics in Semiotics”“4. Be orderly.”This
involves two moves in the contribution or ‘turn.’ One cannot be ‘disorderly,’
if one just utters ‘p.’ So this involves a molecular proposition. The ‘order’
can be of various types. Indeed, one of Grice’s example is “Jones is between
Smith and Williams” – order of merit or size?‘Between’ is not ambiguous!There
is LOGICAL order, which is prior.But there is a more absolute use of ‘orderly.’
‘keep your room tidy.’orderly (adj.) 1570s, "arranged in order," from
order (n.) + -ly (1). Meaning "observant of rule or discipline, not
unruly" is from 1590s. Related: Orderliness.He does not in the lecture
give a philosophical example, but later will in revisiting the Urmson example
and indeed Strawson, but mainly Urmson, “He went to bed and took off his
boots,” and indeed Ryle, “She felt frail and took arsenic.”“And one might need
others.”Regarding ‘mode,’ that is. “It is obvious that the observance of some
of these maxims is a matter of less urgency than is the observance of others;”Not
as per ‘moral’ demands, since he’ll say these are not MORAL.“a man who has
expressed himself with undue prolixity would, in general, be open to milder
comment than would a man who has said something he believes to be false.”Except
in Oscar Wilde’s circle, where they were obsessed with commenting on
prolixities! Cf. Hare against Kant, “Where is the prisoner?” “He left [while he
is hiding in the attic].”That’s why Grice has the ‘in general.’“Indeed, it
might be felt that the importance of at least the first maxim of Quality is
such that it should not be included in a scheme of the kind I am constructing;”But
since ‘should’ is weak, I will. “other maxims come into operation only on the
assumption that this maxim of Quality is satisfied.”So the keyword is
co-ordination.“While this may be correct, so far as the generation of implicaturums
is concerned it seems to play a role not totally different from the other
maxims, and it will be convenient, for the present at least, to treat it as a
member of the list of maxims.”He is having weighing, and clashing in mind. And
he wants a conversationalist to honour truth over informativeness, which begs
the question that as he puts it, ‘false’ “information” is no information.In the
earlier lectures, tutoring, or as a university lecturer, he was sure that his
tutee will know that he was introducing maxims ONLY WITH THE PURPOSE, NEVER TO
MORALISE, but as GENERATORS of implicatura – in philosophers’s mistakes.But
this manoeuver is only NOW disclosed. Those without a philosophical background
may not realise about this. “There are, of course, all sorts of other maxims
(aesthetic, social, or moral in character), such as 'Be polite', that are also
normally observed by participants in talk exchanges, and these may also generate
nonconventional implicaturums.”He is obviously aware that Émile DurkheimWill Know that
‘conversational’ is subsumed under ‘social,’ if not Williamson (perhaps). – keyword: ‘norm.’ Grice excludes ‘moral’
because while a moral maxim makes a man ‘good,’ a conversational maxim makes a
man a ‘good’ conversationalist. Not because there is a distinction in
principle!“The conversational maxims, however, and the conversational implicaturums
connected with them, are specially connected (I hope) with”He had this way with
idioms.Cf. Einstein,“E =, I hope, mc2.”“the particular purposes that talk (and
so, talk exchange)”He is playing Dutch.The English lost the Anglo-Saxon for
‘talk.’ They have ‘language,’ and the Hun has ‘Sprache.’ But only the Dutch
have ‘taal.’So he is distinguishing between the TOOL and the USE of the TOOL.“is
adapted lo serve and is primlarily employed to serve.”The ‘adapted’ is
mechanistic talk. He mentions ‘evolutionarily’ elsewhere. He means ‘the
particular goal language evolved to serve, viz.’ groom.Grooming, Gossip and the
Evolution of Language is a 1996 book by the anthropologist Robin Dunbar, in
which the author argues that language evolved from social grooming. He further
suggests that a stage of this evolution was the telling of gossip, an argument
supported by the observation that language is adapted for storytelling.
The book has been criticised on the grounds that since words are so cheap,
Dunbar's "vocal grooming" would fall short in amounting to an honest
signal. Further, the book provides no compelling story[citation needed] for how
meaningless vocal grooming sounds might become syntactical speech. Thesis
Dunbar argues that gossip does for group-living humans what manual grooming
does for other primates—it allows individuals to service their relationships
and thus maintain their alliances on the basis of the principle: if you scratch
my back, I'll scratch yours. Dunbar argues that as humans began living in increasingly
larger social groups, the task of manually grooming all one's friends and
acquaintances became so time-consuming as to be unaffordable.[1] In response to
this problem, Dunbar argues that humans invented 'a cheap and ultra-efficient
form of grooming'—vocal grooming. To keep allies happy, one now needs only to
'groom' them with low-cost vocal sounds, servicing multiple allies
simultaneously while keeping both hands free for other tasks. Vocal grooming
then evolved gradually into vocal language—initially in the form of
'gossip'.[1] Dunbar's hypothesis seems to be supported by the fact that the
structure of language shows adaptations to the function of narration in
general.[2] Criticism Critics of Dunbar's theory point out that the very
efficiency of "vocal grooming"—the fact that words are so cheap—would
have undermined its capacity to signal honest commitment of the kind conveyed
by time-consuming and costly manual grooming.[3] A further criticism is that
the theory does nothing to explain the crucial transition from vocal
grooming—the production of pleasing but meaningless sounds—to the cognitive
complexities of syntactical speech.[citation needed] References
Dunbar, R. I. M. (1996). Grooming, gossip and the evolution of language. London:
Faber and Faber. ISBN 9780571173969. OCLC 34546743. von Heiseler, Till
Nikolaus (2014) Language evolved for storytelling in a super-fast evolution.
In: R. L. C. Cartmill, Eds. Evolution of Language. London: World Scientific,
pp. 114-121. https://www.academia.edu/9648129/LANGUAGE_EVOLVED_FOR_STORYTELLING_IN_A_SUPER-FAST_EVOLUTION
Power, C. 1998. Old wives' tales: the gossip hypothesis and the reliability of
cheap signals. In J. R. Hurford, M. Studdert Kennedy and C. Knight (eds),
Approaches to the Evolution of Language: Social and Cognitive Bases. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, pp. 111 29. Categories: 1996 non-fiction
booksAmerican non-fiction booksBooks by Robin DunbarEnglish-language
booksEvolution of languageHarvard University Press booksPopular science booksGrice:
“I have stated my maxims”the maxims“as if this purpose were a maximally effective
exchange of information;”“MAXIMALLY EFFECTIVE”“this specification is, of
course, too narrow,”But who cares?This is slightly sad in that he is thinking
Strawson and forgetting his (Grice’s) own controversy with G. A. Paul on the
sense-datum, for ‘the pillar box seems red’ and ‘the pillar box is red,’
involving an intensional context, are less amenable to fall under the maxims.“and
the scheme needs to be generalized to allow for such general purposes as
influencing or directing the actions of others.”He has a more obvious way
below:Giving and receving informationInfluencing and being influenced by others.He
never sees the purpose as MAXIMAL INFORMATION, but maximally effective EXCHANGE
of information – does he mean merely ‘transmission.’ It may well be.If I say,
“I rain,” I have ex-changed information.I don’t need anything in return.If so,
it makes sense that he is equating INFORMING With INFLUENCING or better DIRECTION your
addresse’s talk.Note that, for all he loved introspection and conversational
avowals, and self-commands, these do not count.It’s informing your addressee
about some state of affairs, and directing his action. Grice is always clear
that the ULTIMATE GOAL is the utterer’s ACTION.“As one of my avowed aims is to
see talking as a special case or variety of purposive, indeed rational,
behavior, it may be worth noting that the specific expectations or presumptions
connected with at least some of the foregoing maxims have their analogues in
the sphere of transactions that are not talk exchanges.”Transaction is a good
one.TRANS-ACTIO“I list briefly one such analog for each conversational
category.”While he uses ‘conversational category,’ he also applies it to the
second bit: ‘category of conversational quantity,’ ‘category of conversational
quality,’ ‘category of conversational relation,’ and ‘category of
conversational mode.’ But it is THIS application that justifies the
sub-specifications.They are not categories of thought or ontological or
‘expression’.His focus is on the category as conversation.His focus is on the
‘conversational category.’“1. Quantity. If you are assisting me to mend a car,
I expect your contribution to be neither more nor less than is required; if, e.
g., at a particular stage I need fourscrews, I expect you to hand me four,
rather than two or six. He always passed six, since two will drop.“Make your
contribution neither more nor less informative than is required (for the
purposes of the exchange).”This would have covered the maxi and the min.“NEITHER
MORE NOR LESS” is the formula of effectiveness, and economy, and minimization
of expenditure.“2. Quality. I expect your contributions to be genuine and not
spurious.”Here again he gives an expansion of the conversational category,
which is more general than ‘try to make your contribution one that is true,’
and the point about the ‘quality of information,’ which he did not make.Perhaps
because it would have led him to realise that ‘false’ information, i.e.
‘information’ which is not genuine and spurious, is not ‘information.’But “Make
your contribution one that is genuine and not spurious.”Be candid.Does not need
a generalization as it covers both informational and directive utterances.“If I
need sugar as an ingredient in the cake you are assisting me to make, I do not
expect you to hand me salt;”Or you won’t eat the cake.“if I need a spoon, I do
not expect a trick spoon made of rubber.”Spurious and genuine are different.In
the ‘trick spoon,’ the conversationalist is just not being SERIOUS.But surely a
maxim, “Be serious” is too serious. – Seriously!“3. Relation. I expect a
partner's contribution to be appropriate to immediate needs at each stage of
the transaction;”Odd that he would use ‘appropriate,’ which was the topic of
the “Prolegomena,” and what he was supposed to EXPLAIN, not to use in the
explanation.For each of the philosophers making a mistake are giving a judgment
of ‘appropriateness,’ conversational appropriateness. Here it is good that he
relativises the ‘appropriateness’ TO the ‘need’.Grice is not quite sticking to
the etymology of ‘relatio’ and ‘refer,’ bring y back to x. Or he is. Bring y
(your contribution) back to the need x.Odd that he thinks he’ll expand more on
relation, when he did a good bit!“if I am mixing ingredients for a cake, I do
not expect to be handed a good book, or even an oven cloth (though this might
be an appropriate contribution at a later stage).”“I just expect you to be
silent.”“4. Manner. I expect a partner to make it clear what contribution he is
making, and to execute his performance with reasonable dispatch.” For Lewis,
clarity is not enough!The ‘Execute your performance with reasonable dispatch!’
seems quite different from “Be perspicuous.”“Execute your performance with
reasonable dispatch”Is more like“Execute your performance”And not just STAND
there!A: What time is it B just stands there“These analogies are relevant to
what I regard as a fundamental question about the principle of conversational
helpfulness and its attendant conversational maxims,”For Boethius, it is a
PRINCIPLE because it does not need an answer!“viz., what the basis is for the
assumption which we seem to make, and on which (I hope) it will appear that a
great range of implicaturums depend [especially as we keep on EXPLOITING the
rather otiose maxims], that talkers will ingeneral (ceteris paribus and in the
absence of indications to the contrary) proceed in the manner that these
principles prescribe.”Grice really doesn’t care! He is into the EXPLOITING of
the maxim, as in his response to the Scots philosopher G. A. Paul:“Paul, I
surely do not mean to imply that you may end up believing that I have a doubt
about the pillar box being red: it seems red to me, as I have this sense-datum
of ‘redness’ which attaches to me as I am standing in front of the pillar box
in clear daylight.”Grice is EXPLOITING the desideratum, YET STILL SAYING
SOMETHING TRUE, so at least he is not VIOLATING the principle of conversational
helpfulness, or the category of conversational quality, or the desideratum of
conversational candour.And that is what he is concerned with. “A dull but, no doubt at a certain level,
adequate answer is that it is just a well-recognized empirical fact that *people*
(not pirots, although perhaps Oxonians, rather than from Malagasy) DO behave in
these ways;”Elinor Ochs was terrified Grice’s maxims are violated – never
exploited, she thought – in Madagascar.“they, i. e. people, or Oxonians, have
learned to do so in childhood and not lost the habit of doing so; and, indeed,
it would involve a good deal of effort to make a radical departure from the
habit. It is much easier, for example, to tell the truth than to invent lies.”Effort
again; least effort. And ease. Great Griceian guidelines!“I am, however, enough
of a rationalist to want to find a basis that underlies these facts,”OR
EXPLAIN.“undeniable though they may be;”BEIGIN OF A THEORY FOR A THEORY – not
the theory for the generation of implicate, but for the theory of conversation.He
is less interested in this than the other. “I would like to be able to think of
the standard type of conversational practice not merely as something that all
or most do IN FACT follow but as something that it is REASONABLE for us to
follow, that we SHOULD NOT abandon. For a time, I was attracted by the idea
that observance of the principle of conversational helpfulness and the conversational
maxims, in a talk exchange, could be thought of as a quasi-contractual matter,
with parallels outside the realm of discourse. If you pass by when I am
struggling with my stranded car, I no doubt have some degree of expectation
that you will offer help, but once you join me in tinkering under the hood, my
expectations become stronger and take more specific forms (in the absence of indications
that you are merely an incompetent meddler); and talk exchanges seemed to me to
exhibit, characteristically, certain features that jointly distinguish
cooperative transactions:”So how is this not quasi-contractual? He is listing THIS OR THAT FEATURE that
jointly distinguishes a cooperative transaction – all grand great words.But he
wants to say that ‘quasi-contractual’ is NO RATIONAL!He is playing, as a
philosopher, with the very important point of what follows from what.A1.
Conversasation is purposiveA2. Conversation is rationalA3. Conversation is
cooperativeA4. There is such a thing as non-rational cooperation (is there?)So
he is aiming at the fact that the FEATURES that jointly distinguish cooperative
transactions NEED NOT BE PRESENT, and Grice surely does not wish THAT to
demolish his model. If he bases it in general constraints of rationality, the
better.“1. The participants have some common immediate aim, like getting a car
mended; their ultimate aims may, of course, be independent and even in
conflict-each may want to get the car mended in order to drive off, leaving the
other stranded. In characteristic talk exchanges, there is a common aim even
if, as in an over-the-wall chat, it is a second-order one,”Is he being logical?“second-order
predicate calculus”“meta-language”He means higher or supervenientOr
‘operative’“, that each party should, for the time being, identify himself with
the transitory conversational interests of the other.”By identify he means
assume.YOU HAVE TO DESIRE what your partner desires.The intersection between
your desirability and your addressee’s desirability is not NULL.And the way to
do this is conditionalIF: You perceive B has Goal G, you assume Goal G. “2. The
contributions of the participants .should be dovetailed, mutually dependent. Unless
it’s one of those seminars by Grice and J. F. Thomson!“3. There is some sort of
understanding (which may be explicit but which is often tacit)”i.e. implicated
rather than explicated – part of the implicaturum, or implicitum, rather than
the explicatum or explicitum.“that, other things being equal, the transaction
should continue in appropriate style unless both parties are agreeable that it
should terminate. You do not just shove off or start doing something else.”This
is especially tricky over the phone (“He never ends!” Or in psychiatric
interviews!)Note that ‘starting doing something else’ may work. E. g. watch
your watch!“But while some such quasi-contractual basis as this may apply to
some cases, there are too many types of exchange, like quarreling and letter
writing, that it fails to fit comfortably.”TWO OPPOSITE EXAMPLES.Fighting is
arguing is competition, adversarial, epagogue, not conversation,
cooperation, friendly, collaborative
venture, and diagoge.Letter writing is usually otiose – “what, with the
tellyphone!” And letter writing is no conversation.“In any case, one feels that
the talker who is irrelevant or obscure has primarily let down not his audience
but himself.”And the talker who is mendacious has primarily let Kant down!”“So
I would like t< be able to show that observance of the principle of
conversational helfpulness and maxims is reasonal de (rational) along the
following lines”That any Aristkantian rationalist would agree to.“: that any
one who cares about the goals that are central to conversation/communication
(e.g., giving and receiving information, influencing and being influenced by
others) must be expected to have an interest, given suitable circumstances, in
participation in talk exchanges that will be profitable only on the assumption
that they are conducted in general accordance with the principle of
conversational helpfulness and the maxims.”Where the keyword is: profit,
effort, least effort, no energy, no undue effort, no unnecessary trouble. That
conversation is reasonable unless it is unreasonable. That a conversational
exchange should be rational unless it shows features of irrationality.“Whether
any such conclusion can be reached, I am uncertain;”It’s not clear what the
premises are!Plus, he means DEDUCTIVELY reached? Transcendentally reached?
Empirically reached? Philosophically reached? Conclusively reached? Etc.It
seems the conclusion need not be reached, because we never departed from the
state of the affairs that the conclusion describes.“in any case, I am fairly
sure that I cannot reach it until I am a good deal clearer about the nature of
relevance and of the circumstances in which it is required.”For perhaps “I
don’t want to imply any doubt, but that pillar box seems red.”IS irrelevant,
yet true!“It is now time to show the connection between the principle of
conversational helfpulness and the conversational maxims, on the one hand, and
conversational implicaturum on the other.”This is clearer in the seminars. The
whole thing was a preamble “A participant in a talk exchange may fail to
fulfill a maxim in various ways, which include the following: 1. He may quietly
and unostentatiously VIOLATE (or fail to observe) a maxim; if so, in some cases
he will be liable to mislead.”And be blamed by Kant.Mislead should not worry
Grice, cf. “Misleading, but true.”The violate (or fail to observe) shows that
(1) covers two specifications. Tom may be unaware that there was such a maxim
as to ‘be brief, avoid unnecessary prolixity, unless you need to eschew obfuscation!”This
is Grice’s anti-Ryleism. He doesn’t want to say that there is KNOWLEDGE of the
maxims. For one may know what the maxims are and fail to observe them “2. He
may OPT OUT from the operation both of the maxim and of the principle of
conversational helpfulness; he may say, indicate, or allow it to become plain
that he is unwilling to cooperate in the way the maxim requires. He may say, e.
g., I cannot say more; my lips are sealed.” Where is the criminal?I cannot say
more; my lips are sealed.I shall unseal them. What do you mean ‘cannot.’ You
don’t mean ‘may not,’ do you?I think Grice means ‘may not.’Is the universe
finite? Einstein: I cannot say more; my lips are sealed. “3. He may be faced by
a CLASH of maxims [That’s why he needs more than one – or at least two
specifications of the same maxim]: He may be unable, e. g., to fulfill the
first maxim of Quantity (Be as informative as is required) without violating
the second maxim of Quality (Have adequate evidence for what you say).” Odd
that he doesn’t think this generates implicaturum: He has obviously studied the
sub-perceptualities here.For usually, a phenomenalist, like Sextus, thinks that
by utteringThe pillar box seems red to me – that is all I have adequate
evidence forHe is conveying that he is unable to answer the question (“What
colour is the pillar box?”) And being as ‘informative’ as is requiredWithout
saying something for which it is not the case that he has or will ever have
adequate evidence.Cf.Student at Koenigsberg to Kant: What’s the noumenon?Kant:
My lips are sealed.It may require some research to list ALL CLASHES.Because
each clash shows some EVALUATION qua reasoning, and it may be all VERY CETERIS
PARIBUS.Cf.Where is the criminal?My lips are sealed.The utterer has NOT opted
out. He has answered, via implicaturum, that he is not telling. He is being
relevant. He is not telling because he doesn’t want to DISCLOSE the whereabouts
of the alleged criminal, etc. For Kant, this is not a conversation! Odd that
Grice is ‘echoing Kant,’ where Kant would hardly allow a clash with ‘Be
truthful!’“4. He may FLOUT a maxim; that is, he may BLATANTLY fail to fulfill (or
observe) it.Mock? Taunt?The magic flute. Grice’s magic flute.flout (v.)
"treat with disdain or contempt" (transitive), 1550s, intransitive
sense "mock, jeer, scoff" is from 1570s; of uncertain origin; perhaps
a special use of Middle English “flowten,”"to play the flute"
(compare Middle Dutch “fluyten,” "to play the flute," also "to
jeer"). Related: Flouted; flouting.Grice: “One thing we do not know is if
the flute came to England via Holland.”“Or he may, as we may say, ‘play the
flute’ with a maxim, expecting others to be agreeable.”“Or he may, as we might
say, ‘play the flute’ with the conversational maxim, expecting others to join with
some other musical instrument – or something – occasionally the same.”“On the
assumption that the speaker is able to fulfill the maxim and to do so without
violating another maxim (because oi a clash), is not opting out, and is not, in
view of the blatancy of his performance, trying to mislead,”This is interesting.
It’s the TRYING to mislead.Grice and G. A. Paul:Grice cannot be claimed to have
TRIED to mislead, and thus deemed to have misled G. A. Paul, even if he had,
when he said, “I hardly think there is any doubt about it, but that pillar box
seems red to me.”“the hearer is faced with a minor problem:”Implicaturum: This
reasoning is all abductive – to the ‘best’ explanation“How can his saying what
he did say be reconciled with the supposition that he is observing the overall
principle of conversational helfpulness?”This was one of Grice’s conversations
with G. A. Paul:Paul (to Grice): This is what I do not understand, Grice. How
can your saying what you did say be reconciled with the supposition that you
are not going to mislead me?”Unfortunately, on that Saturday, Paul went to the
Irish Sea. Grice “This situation is one that characteristically”There are
others – vide clash, above – but not marked by Grice as one such situation – “gives
rise to a conversational implicaturum; and when a conversational implicaturum
is generated”Chomskyan jargon borrowed from Austin (“I don’t see why Austin
admired Chomsky so!”)“in this way, I shall say that a maxim is being
EXPLOITED.”Why not ‘flouted’? Some liked the idea of playing the flute.EXPLOIT
is figurative.Grice exploits a Griceian maxim.exploit
(v.) c. 1400, espleiten, esploiten "to accomplish, achieve, fulfill,"
from Old French esploitier, espleiter "carry out, perform,
accomplish," from esploit (see exploit (n.)). The sense of "use
selfishly" first recorded 1838, from a sense development in French perhaps
from use of the word with reference to mines, etc. (compare exploitation).
Related: Exploited; exploiting.exploit (n.) late 14c., "outcome of an
action," from Old French esploit "a carrying out; achievement,
result; gain, advantage" (12c., Modern French exploit), a very common
word, used in senses of "action, deed, profit, achievement," from
Latin explicitum "a thing settled, ended, or displayed," noun use of
neuter of explicitus, past participle of explicare "unfold, unroll,
disentangle," from ex "out" (see ex-) + plicare "to
fold" (from PIE root *plek- "to plait"). Meaning
"feat, achievement" is c. 1400. Sense evolution is from
"unfolding" to "bringing out" to "having
advantage" to "achievement." Related:
Exploits. exploitative (adj.) "serving for or used in
exploitation," 1882, from French exploitatif, from exploit (see exploit
(n.)). Alternative exploitive (by 1859) appears to be a native formation from
exploit + -ive.exploitation (n.) 1803, "productive working" of
something, a positive word among those who used it first, though regarded as a
Gallicism, from French exploitation, noun of action from exploiter (see exploit
(v.)). Bad sense developed 1830s-50s, in part from influence of French
socialist writings (especially Saint Simon), also perhaps influenced by use of
the word in U.S. anti-slavery writing; and exploitation was hurled in insult at
activities it once had crowned as praise. It follows from this science
[conceived by Saint Simon] that the tendency of the human race is from a state
of antagonism to that of an universal peaceful association -- from the
dominating influence of the military spirit to that of the industriel one; from
what they call l'exploitation de l'homme par l'homme to the exploitation of the
globe by industry. ["Quarterly Review," April & July 1831] Grice: “I am now
in a position to characterize the notion of conversational implicaturum.”Not to
provide a reductive analysis. The concept is too dear for me to torture it with
one of my metaphysical routines.”“A man who, by (in, when) saying (or making as
if to say) that p”That seems good for the analysandumGrice loves the “by (in,
when)” “(or making as if to). Note the oratio obliqua.Or ‘that’-clause. So this
is not ‘uttering’As in the analysans of ‘meaning that.’“By uttering ‘x’ U means
that p.’The “by” already involves a clause with a ‘that’-clause.So this is not
a report of a physical event.It is a report embued already with intentionality.The
utterer is not just ‘uttering’The utterer is EXPLICITLY conveying that p.We
cannot say MEANING that p.Because Grice uses “mean” as opposed to “explicitly
convey”His borderline scenarios are such,“Keep me company, dear”“If we are to
say that when he uttererd that he means that his wife was to keep him company
or not is all that will count for me to change my definition of ‘mean’ or
not.”Also irony.But here it is more complicated. A man utters, “Grice defeated
Strawson”If he means it ironically, to mean that Strawson defeated Grice, it is
not the case that the utterer MEANT the opposite. He explicitly conveyed that.Grice
considers the Kantian ‘cause and effect,’“If I am dead, I shall have no time
for reading.”He is careful here that the utterer does not explicitly conveys
that he will have no time for reading – because it’s conditioned on he being
dead.“has implicated that q,” “may be said to have conversationally implicated
that q,”So this is a specification alla arbor porphyrana of ‘By explicitly conveying
that p, U implicitly conveys that q.’Where he is adding the second-order
adverb, ‘conversationally.’By explicitly conveying that p, U has implicitly
conveyed that q in a CONVERSATIONAL FASHION” iff or if“PROVIDED THAT”“(1) he is
to be presumed to be observing the conversational maxims, or at least the principle
of conversational helfpulness;”Especially AT LEAST, because he just said that
an implicaturum is ‘generated’ (Chomskyan jargon) when AT LEAST A MAXIM IS played the flute.“(2) the
supposition that he is aware that, or thinks that, q is required in order to
make his saying or making as if to say p (or doing so in THOSE terms)
consistent with this presumption;”THIS IS THE CRUCIAL CLAUSE – and the one that
not only requires ONE’S RATIONALITY, but the expectation that one’s addressee,
BEING RATIONAL, will expect the utterer to BE RATIONAL.This is the
‘rationalisation’ he refers to in “Retrospective Epilogue.”Note that ‘q’ is
obviously now the content of a state in the utterer’s soul – a desideratum or a
creditum --, at least a CREDITUM, in view of Grice’s view of everything at
least exhibitive and perhaps protreptic --“and (3) the speaker thinks (and
would expect the hearer to think that the speaker thinks) that it is within the
competence of the hearer to work out, or grasp intuitively, that the supposition
mentioned in (2) IS required.”All that jargon about mutuality is a result of
Strawson tutoring Schiffer!“Apply this to my initial example, to B's remark that
C has not yet been to prison.”What made Grice think of such a convoluted
example?He was laughing at Searle for providing non-philosophical examples, and
there he is!“In a suitable setting A might reason as follows:”“(1) B has
APPARENTLY violated – indeed he has played the flute with -- the maxim 'Be
relevant' and so may be regarded as [ALSO] having flouted one of the maxims
conjoining perspicuity,”In previous versions, under the desideratum of
conversational clarity Grice had it that the desideratum included the
expectation of this ‘relatedness’ AND that of ‘perspicuity’ (sic). In the
above, Grice is stating that if you are irrelevant (or provide an unrelated
contribution) you are not being perspicuous.But “He hasn’t been to prison” is
perspicuous enough.And so is the link to the question --.Plus, wasn’t
perspicuity only to apply to the ‘mode,’ to the ‘form,’ rather than the
content.Here it is surely the CONTENT – that it is not the case that C is a
criminal – that triggers it all.So, since there is a “not,” here this is
parallel to the example examined by Strawson in the footnote to “Logical
Theory.”The utterer is saying that it is not the case that C has been in prison
yet.The ‘yet’ makes all the difference, even if a Fregeian colouring
‘convention’!“It is not the case that C has been in prison” Is, admittedly, not
very perspicuous.“So what, neither has the utterer nor the addressee.”So there
is an equivocation here as to the utterance perhaps not being perspicuous,
while the utterer IS perspicuous.“yet I have no reason to suppose that he is
opting out from the operation of the CP;”Or playing the flute with my beloved
principle of conversational helpfulness.“(2) given the circumstances, I can
regard his irrelevance as only apparent – as when we say that a plastic flower
is not a flower, or to use Austin’s example, “That decoy duck is surely not a
duck! That trick rubber spoon is no spoon! -- if, and only if, I suppose him to
think that C is potentially dishonest;”As many are!The potentially is the
trick.Recall Aristotle: “Will I say that I am potentially dishonest?! Not me!
PLATO was! Theophrastus WILL! Or is it ‘shall’?”“(3) B knows that I am capable
of working out step (2). So B implicates that C is potentially dishonest.'”Unless
he goes on like I go with G. A. Paul, “I do not mean of course to mean that I
mean that he is potentially dishonest, because although he is, he shouldn’t, or
rather, I don’t think you are expecting me to convey explicitly that he shouln’t
or should for that matter.”“The presence of a conversational implicaturum must
be capable of being worked out; for even if it can in fact be intuitively
grasped, unless the intuition is replaceable by an argument, the implicaturum
(if present at all) will not count as a CONVERSATIONAL implicaturum.”This is
the Humpty Dumpty in Grice.Cf. Provide the sixteen derivational steps in Jane
Austen’s Novel remark, “I sense and sensibilia” – This is what happens
sometimes when people who are not philosophers engage with Grice!For a
philosopher, it is clear Grice is not being serious there. He is mocking an
‘ideal’-language philosopher (as Waissmann called them). Let’s revise the
word:By “counting” he means “DEEM.” He has said that “She is poor, but she is
honest,” is NOT CALCULABLE. So if an argument is not produced, this may not be
a matter of argument.Philosophers are OBSESSED, and this is Grice’s trick, with
ARGUMENT. Recall Grice on Hardie, “Unlike my father, who was rather blunt,
Hardie taught me to ARGUE for this or that reason.”His mention of “INTUITION”
is not perspicuous. He told J. M. Rountree that meaning is a matter of
INTUITION, not a theoretical concept within a theory.So it’s not like Grice
does not trust the intuition. So the point is TERMINOLOGICAL and
methodological. Terminological, in that this is a specfification of
‘conversationally,’ rather than for cases like “How rude!” (he just flouted the
maxim ‘be polite!’ but ‘be polite’ is not a CONVERSATIONAL maxim. Is Grice
implicating that nonconversational nonconventional implicate are not
calculable? We don’t think so.But he might.I think he will. Because in the case
of ‘aesthetic maxim,’ ‘moral maxim,’ and ‘social maxim’ – such as “be polite,”
– the calculation may involve such degree of gradation that you better not get
Grice started!“it will be a CONVENTIONAL implicaturum.”OK – So perhaps he does
allow that non-conventional non-conversational implicate ARE calculable.But he
may add:“Unless the intuition is replaceable by an argument, it will not be a
conversational implicaturum; it will be a conventional implicaturum.”Strawson:
“And what nonconventional nonconversational implicate?Grice: You are right,
Strawon. Let me modify and refine the point: “It will be a dull, boring,
undetachable, conventional implicaturum – OR any of those dull implicate that
follow from (or result – I won’t use ‘generate’) one of those maxims that I
have explicitly said they were NOT conversational maxims.“For surely, there is
something very ‘contradictory-sounding’ to me saying that the implicaturum is
involved with the flouting of a maxim which is NOT a conversational maxim, and
yet that the maxim is a CONVERSATIONAL implicaturum.”“Therefore, I restrict
calculability to CONVERSATIONAL IMPLICATURUM, because it involves the
conversational maxims that contributors are expected to be reciprocal; whereas
you’ll agree that Queen Victoria does not need to be abide with ‘be polite,’ as
she frequently did not – “We are not amused, you fools! Only Gilbert and
Sullivan amuse me!””“To work out that a particular CONVERSATIONAL [never mind
nonconversational nonconventional] implicaturum is present, the hearer will
reply on the following data:”As opposed to ‘sense-datum.’Perhaps assumption,
alla Gettier, is better:“ (1) the conventional meaning of the words used,
together with the identity of any references that may be involved;”WoW Quite a
Bit. This is the reason why Grice entitled WoW his first book.In he hasn’t been
to ‘prison’ we are not using ‘prison’ as Witters does (“My language is my
prison”).Strawson: But is that the CONVENTIONAL meaning? Even for King Alfred?He hasn't been to prisonprison (n.) early 12c., from Old
French prisoun "captivity, imprisonment; prison; prisoner, captive"
(11c., Modern French prison), altered (by influence of pris "taken;"
see prize (n.2)) from earlier preson, from Vulgar Latin *presionem, from Latin
prensionem (nominative prensio), shortening of prehensionem (nominative
*prehensio) "a taking," noun of action from past participle stem of
prehendere "to take" (from prae- "before," see pre-, +
-hendere, from PIE root *ghend- "to seize, take"). "Captivity,"
hence by extension "a place for captives," the MAIN modern sense.”
(There are 34 other unmain ones). He hasn't been to a place for captives
yet.You mean he is one.Cf. He hasn't been to asylum.You mean Foucault?(2) the principle
of conversational helpfulness and this and that conversational maxim;”This is
more crucial seeing that the utterer may utter something which has no
conventional meaning?Cf. Austin, “Don’t ask for the meaning of a word! Less so
for the ‘conventional’ one!”What Grice needs is ‘the letter,’ so he can have
the ‘spirit’ as the implicaturum. Or he needs the lines, so he can have the implicaturum
as a reading ‘between the lines.’If the utterance is a gesture, like showing a
bandaged leg, or a Neapolitan rude gesture, it is difficult to distinguish or
to identify what is EXPLICITLY conveyed.By showing his bandaged leg, U
EXPLICITLY conveys that he has a bandaged leg. And IMPLICITLY conveys that he
cannot really play cricket.The requirement of ‘denotatum’ is even tricker,
“Swans are beautiful.” Denotata? Quantificational? Substitutional?In any case,
Grice is not being circular in requiring that the addressee should use as an
assumption or datum that U thinks that the expression E is generally uttered by
utterers when they m-intend that p.But there are tricks here.“(3) the context,
linguistic or otherwise, of the utterance;”Cf. Grice, “Is there a general
context for a general theory of context?”“(4) other items of background
knowledge;”So you don’t get:How is C getting on at the bank? My lips are sealed
Why do you care Mind your own business. Note that “he hasn’t been to prison
yet” (meaning the tautologous ‘he is potentially dishonest’) is the sort of
tricky answer to a tricky question! In asking, the asker KNOWS that he’ll get
that sort of reply knowing the utterer as he does. “and (5) the fact (or
supposed fact) that all relevant items falling under the previous headings are
available to both participants and both participants know or assume this to be
the case.”This is Schiffer reported by Strawson.“A general pattern for the
working out of a conversational implicaturum might be given as follows:”Again
the abductive argument that any tutee worth of Hardie might expect 'He has said
that p;”Ie explicitly conveys that p.Note the essential oratio obliqua, or
that-clause.“there is no reason to suppose. that he is not observing the
maxims, or at least the principle of conversational helpfulness”That is, he is
not a prisoner of war, or anything.“He could not be doing this unless he
thought that q;”Or rather, even if more tautologically still, he could not be
doing so REASONABLY, as Austin would forbid, unless…’ For if the utterer is
IRRATIONAL (or always playing the flute) surely he CAN do it!“he knows (and
knows that I know that he knows) that I can see that the supposition that he
thinks that q IS required;”Assumed MUTUAL RATIONALITY, which Grice fails to
have added as assumption or datum. Cf. paraconsistent logics – “he is using
‘and’ and ‘or’ in a ‘deviant’ logical way, to echo Quine,” – He is an intuitionist,
his name is Dummett.“he has done nothing to stop me thinking that q; he intends
me to think, or is at least willing to allow me to think, that q; and so he has
implicated that q.'”The ‘or’ is delightful, for m-intention requires
‘intention,’ but the intention figures in previous positions, so ‘willingess to
allow the addressee to think’ does PERFECTLY FINE! Especially at Oxford where
we are ever so subtle!
Conversational compassion --
conversational empathy – sympathy – empathy – compassion
-- principle of conversational empathy -- Principle of Conversational Empathy – a
term devised by Grice for the expectation a conversationalist has that his
co-partner will honour his conversational goal, however transitory. imaginative
projection into another person’s situation, especially for vicarious capture of
its emotional and motivational qualities. The term is an English rendering by
the Anglo psychologist E. G. Titchener, 1867 7 of the G. Einfühlung, made
popular by Theodore Lipps 18514, which also covered imaginative identification
with inanimate objects of aesthetic contemplation. Under ‘sympathy’, many
aspects were earlier discussed by Hume, Adam Smith, and other Scottish
philosophers. Empathy has been considered a precondition of ethical thinking
and a major contributor to social bonding and altruism, mental state
attribution, language use, and translation. The relevant spectrum of phenomena
includes automatic and often subliminal motor mimicry of the expressions or
manifestations of another’s real or feigned emotion, pain, or pleasure;
emotional contagion, by which one “catches” another’s apparent emotion, often
unconsciously and without reference to its cause or “object”; conscious and
unconscious mimicry of direction of gaze, with consequent transfer of attention
from the other’s response to its cause; and conscious or unconscious
role-taking, which reconstructs in imagination with or without imagery aspects
of the other’s situation as the other “perceives” it.
conversational
maxim of ambiguity avoidance, the: Grice thought that there should be a way
to characterise each maxim other than by its formulation. “It’s a good exercise
to grasp the concept behind the maxim.” Quality relates to Strength or
Fortitutde, the first to “at least,” the
second to “at most.” For Quality, he has a supra-maxim, “of trust” – the two
maxims are “maxim of candour” and “maxim of evidence”. Under relation, “maxim
of relevance.” Under manner, suprapaxim “maxim of perspicuity” and four maxims,
the first is exactly the same as the supramaxim, “maxim of percpicuity” now
becomes “maxim of obscurity avoidance” – or “maxim of clarity” – obscure and
clear are exact opposites – perspicuous [sic] is more of a trick. The second
maxin under mode is this one of ambiguity avoidance – perhaps there should be a
positive way to express this: be univocal. Do not be equivocal. Do not
equivocate, univocate! The next two, plus the extra one that makes this a
catalogue – the next is ‘maxim of brevity’ or “conversational maxim of unnecessary
prolixity avoidance,” here we see the ‘sic’: “Grice’s maxim of conversational
brevity, or of avoidance of conversationally unnecessary prolixity.” The next
is “maxim of order” – and the one that makes this a decalogue: “maxim of
conversational tailoring” --. a phonological or orthographic form having
multiple meanings senses, characters, semantic representations assigned by the
language system. A lexical ambiguity occurs when a lexical item word is
assigned multiple meanings by the language. It includes a homonymy, i.e.,
distinct lexical items having the same sound or form but different senses ‘knight’/’night’, ‘lead’ n./‘lead’ v., ‘bear’
n./‘bear’ v.; and b polysemy, i.e., a single lexical item having multiple senses ‘lamb’ the animal/‘lamb’ the flesh, ‘window’
glass/‘window’ opening. The distinction between homonymy and polysemy is
problematic. A structural ambiguity occurs when a phrase or sentence is
correlated by the grammar of the language with distinct constituent structures
phrase markers or sequences of phrase markers. Example: ‘Competent women and
men should apply’ ‘[NP[NPCompetent
women] and men] . . .’ vs. ‘[NPCompetent[NPwomen and men]] . . .’, where ‘NP’
stands for ‘noun phrase’. A scope ambiguity is a structural ambiguity deriving
from alternative interpretations of scopes of operators see below. Examples:
‘Walt will diet and exercise only if his doctor approves’ sentence operator scope: doctor’s approval is
a necessary condition for both diet and exercise wide scope ‘only if’ vs.
approval necessary for exercise but not for dieting wide scope ‘and’; ‘Bertie
has a theory about every occurrence’
quantifier scope: one grand theory explaining all occurrences ‘a theory’
having wide scope over ‘every occurrence’ vs. all occurrences explained by several
theories together ‘every occurrence’ having wide scope. The scope of an
operator is the shortest full subformula to which the operator is attached.
Thus, in `A & B C’, the scope of ‘&’ is ‘A & B’. For natural
languages, the scope of an operator is what it C-commands. X C-commands Y in a
tree diagram provided the first branching node that dominates X also dominates
Y. An occurrence of an operator has wide scope relative to that of another
operator provided the scope of the former properly includes scope of the
latter. Examples: in ‘~A & B’, ’-’ has wide scope over ‘&’; in ‘Dx Ey
Fxy’, the existential quantifier has wide scope over the universal quantifier.
A pragmatic ambiguity is duality of use resting on pragmatic principles such as
those which underlie reference and conversational implicaturum; e.g., depending
on contextual variables, ‘I don’t know that he’s right’ can express doubt or
merely the denial of genuine knowledge.
maxim of conversational maximin
informativeness: a maxim combining the maximum and the minimum.
maxim of maximal conversational
informativeness: a maxim only dealing with the ‘maximum,’ not the ‘minimum,’
which is a problem for Grice. “Why regulate volunteerness?”
maxim of minimal conversational
informativeness: maxim dealing with the minimum, not the maximum.
maxim of conversational trust: Grice
preferred ‘trust’ to ‘truth.’ Grice: “One of the few useful items in the
English philosophical vocabulary: a word that encompasses the volitional and
the non-volitional. Of course, the same could be said of ‘verum,’ cognate with
German ‘wahr.’
maxim of conversational veracity: Grice:
“When I’m feeling Latinate, you’ll hear me refer to this as the maxim of
conversational veracity – The Romans distinguished the verax and the mendax. I don’t.”
maxim of conversational evidential
adequacy: Grice: “We need a maxim to ensure adequate evidence – this would be
otiose in the volitional – but then we can always generalise the ‘evidence’ to
‘ground,’ or reason, which is what my American tutee, R. J. Fogelin, did.
maxim of conversational relevance: Grice:
“Personally, I prefer ‘relation,’ but Strawson doesn’t. But then Strawson
thinks this is ‘unimportant.’ Not to me, ‘relevant,’ like ‘important,’ are the
most unrelevant and unimportant pieces, especially as abused by an Oxford
philosopher who should know better!”
maxim of conversational perspicuity:
Grice: “D. H. Lewis made me ‘hate’ clarity – “clarity is not enough – plus,
it’s metaphorical? How can I render clear what is essentially obscure? In fact,
I would go on to say that the task of the philosopher is to dramatise the
mundane, to render obscure what seems clear. Perspicuity is unclear enough and
will do fine.”
maxim of conversational clarity, or maxim
of conversational obscurity avoidance: Grice: “It might be said that ‘be
perspicuous’ YIELDS ‘avoid obscurity,’ alla ‘be clear, don’t be obscure.’ But I
prefer to be repetitive, if not AS repetitive as the Jewish God – the Jews have
more than ten commandments!”
maxim of conversational ambiguity
avoidance, maxim of conversational equivocation avoidance, maxim of
conversational univocity: Grice: “This is a teaser, as how ‘ambiguous’ can
‘ambiguous’ be? And why should I dumb down my wit to help my addressee? Dorothy
Parker never did!”
maxim of conversational brevity – or maxim of conversationally unnecessary prolixity avoidance – Grice: “I would call it maxim of redundancy.” “Or maxim of redundancy avoidance,” or maxim of conversational entropy.” A: Did you watch the programme? – Grice: A friend suggested this to me. B: No, I was in a blacked-out city. Versus “No, I was in New York, which was blacked-out. Grice: "In response to my exploration on conversation, I was given an example by a fellow playgroup member which seems to me, as far as it goes, to provide a welcome kind of support for the picture I am putting forward in that it appears to exhibit a kind of interaction between the members of my list of conversational maxims to which I had not really paid due attention — perhaps for the matter not really concerning directly philosophical methodology.” Suppose that it is generally known that Oxford and London were blacked out the day prior. The following conversation takes place: A: Did Smith see the show on the bobby box last night? Grice: “It will be CONVERSATIONALLY unobjectionable for B, who knows that Smith was in London, to reply, B: No, he was in a blacked-out city. "B could have said that Smith was in *London*, thereby providing a further piece of information.” “However, I should like to be able to argue that, in preferring the conversational move featuring the indefinite descriptor, ‘a blacked-out city' B implicates (or communicates the implicaturum) (by the maxims prescribing relation and redundancy avoidance) a more appropriate piece of information, viz., why_ Smith was prevented from seeing the ‘show’ on the bobby box.” "B could have provided BOTH pieces of information, in an over-prolixic version of the above: ‘Smith was in London , which, as every schoolboy knows, was blacked-out yesterday.” — thereby insulting A. But THE ***GAIN****, as Bentham would put it, would have been **INSUFFICIENT** to **JUSTIFY** the additional conversational **COST**.” “Or so I think.” Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Bobby-box implicatura.”
maxim of conversational order: Grice:
“Order is vague: first is the generalised, then the particularized.” By “the
very particularized,” Grice means ‘temporal ordered sequence.” E. g. “Were I to
say, Lady Ogilvy fainted and took arsenic, Strawson would get a different
feeling if I were to utter instead, ‘Lady Ogilvy took arsenic and fainted.’”
maxim of conversational tailoring: ‘The
king of France is not bald – France is a monarchy.”
conversational
point:
Grice distinguishes between ‘point’ and ‘conversational point.’ “What’s the good
of being quoted by another philosopher on the point of ‘point.’?” But that is
what Winch does. So, as a revenge, Grice elaborated on the point. P. London-born philosopher. He quotes Grice in a Royal Philosophy talk: “Grice’s
point is that we should distinguish the truth of one’s remark form the point of
one’s remarks – Grice’s example is: “Surely I have neither any doubt nor any
desire to deny that the pillar box in front of me is red, and yet I won’t
hesitate to say that it seems red to me” – Surely pointless, but an incredible
truth meant to refute G. A. Paul
“conversational postulate” – an otiosity
deviced by Lakoff and Gordon (or Gordon and Lakoff) after Carnap’s infamous
meaning postulate, a sentence that specifies part or all of the meaning of a
predicate. Meaning postulates would thus include explicit, contextual, and
recursive definitions, reduction sentences for dispositional predicates, and,
more generally, any sentences stating how the extensions of predicates are
interrelated by virtue of the meanings of those predicates. For example, any
reduction sentence of the form (x) (x has f / (x is malleable S x has y)) could
be a meaning postulate for the predicate ‘is malleable’. The notion of a
meaning postulate was introduced by Carnap, whose original interest stemmed
from a desire to explicate sentences that are analytic (“true by virtue of
meaning”) but not logically true. Where G is a set of such postulates, one
could say that A is analytic with respect to G if and only if A is a logical
consequence of G. On this account, e.g., the sentence ‘Jake is not a married
bachelor’ is analytic with respect to {’All bachelors are unmarried’}.
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