IMPLICATVRA, in 18 volumes -- vol. 11

M

M: SUBJECT INDEX

M: NAME INDEX – ITALIAN

MACHIAVELLI

MAGNANI

MAINARDINI

 MARC’AURELIO

MAZZEI

MICHELSTAEDTER

MIGLIO

MONDOLFO

MONTE

MOSCA

M: NAME INDEX – ENGLISHMEN (Oxonian philosophy dons)

machiavelli: possibly Italy’s greateset philosopher -- the Italian political theorist commonly considered the most influential political thinker of the Renaissance. Born in Florence, he was educated in the civic humanist tradition. He was secretary to the second chancery of the republic of Florence, with responsibilities for foreign affairs and the revival of the domestic civic militia. His duties involved numerous diplomatic missions both in and outside Italy. With the fall of the republic, he was dismissed by the returning Medici regime. He lived in enforced retirement, relieved by writing and occasional appointment to minor posts. Machaivelli’s writings fall into two genetically connected categories: chancery writings (reports, memoranda, diplomatic writings) and essays, the chief among them The Prince, the Discourses, the Art of War, Florentine Histories, and the comic drama Mandragola. With Machiavelli a new vision emerges of politics as autonomous activity leading to the creation of free and powerful states. This vision derives its norms from what humans do rather than from what they ought to do. As a result, the problem of evil arises as a central issue: the political actor reserves the right “to enter into evil when necessitated.” The requirement of classical, medieval, and civic humanist political philosophies that politics must be practiced within the bounds of virtue is met by redefining the meaning of virtue itself. Machiavellian virtù is the ability to achieve “effective truth” regardless of moral, philosophical, and theological restraints. He recognizes two limits on virtù:  fortuna, understood as either chance or as a goddess symbolizing the alleged causal powers of the heavenly bodies; and (the agent’s own temperament, bodily humors, and the quality of the times. Thus, a premodern astrological cosmology and the anthropology and cyclical theory of history derived from it underlie his political philosophy. History is seen as the conjoint product of human activity and the alleged activity of the heavens, understood as the “general cause” of all human motions in the sublunar world. There is no room here for the sovereignty of the Good, nor the ruling Mind, nor Providence. Kingdoms, republics, and religions follow a naturalistic pattern of birth, growth, and decline. But, depending on the outcome of the struggle between virtù and fortuna, there is the possibility of political renewal; and Machiavelli saw himself as the philosopher of political renewal. Historically, Machiavelli’s philosophy came to be identified with Machiavellianism), the doctrine that the reason of state recognizes no moral superior and that, in its pursuit, everything is permitted. Although Machiavelli himself does not use the phrase ‘reason of state’, his principles have been and continue to be invoked in its defense. Niccolò di Bernardo dei Machiavelli noto semplicemente come Niccolò Machiavelli (Firenze, 3 maggio 1469 – Firenze, 21 giugno 1527) è stato uno storico, filosofo, scrittore, drammaturgo, politico e diplomatico italiano, secondo cancelliere della Repubblica Fiorentina dal 1498 al 1512.   Niccolò Machiavelli (stampa primi Ottocento) Considerato, come Leonardo da Vinci, un uomo universale, nonché figura controversa nella Firenze dei Medici, è noto come il fondatore della scienza politica moderna, i cui principi base emergono dalla sua opera più famosa, Il Principe, nella quale è esposto il concetto di ragion di stato e la concezione ciclica della storia. Questa definizione, secondo molti, descrive in maniera compiuta sia l'uomo sia il letterato più del termine machiavellico, entrato peraltro nel linguaggio corrente ad indicare un'intelligenza acuta e sottile, ma anche spregiudicata[1] e, proprio per questa connotazione negativa del termine, negli ambiti letterari viene preferito il termine "machiavelliano".  L'ortografia del cognome è, purtroppo, ambigua: la versione "Macchiavelli", quella della statua a lui dedicata agli Uffizi, in attesa di chiarimenti dell'Ufficio Culturale del museo o dell'Accademia della Crusca, andrebbe considerata ugualmente corretta in lingua italiana. L'analisi della firma del filosofo, riportata qui accanto, farebbe propendere per la "c" singola[senza fonte][2]. «Nacqui povero, ed imparai prima a stentare che a godere.»  (N. Machiavelli, Lettera a Francesco Vettori.) Niccolò Machiavelli (scritto anche Macchiavelli sulla statua a lui dedicata all'ingresso degli Uffizi) nacque a Firenze,[3] terzo figlio, dopo le sorelle Primavera (1465) e Margherita (1468) e prima del fratello Totto (1475-1522); figlio di Bernardo (1432-1500) e di Bartolomea Nelli (1441-1496). Anticamente originari della Val di Pesa, i Machiavelli sono attestati[4] popolani guelfi residenti almeno dal XIII secolo a Firenze, dove occuparono uffici pubblici ed esercitarono il commercio. Il padre Bernardo era tuttavia di così poca fortuna da esser considerato, non si sa quanto veritieramente, figlio illegittimo: dottore in legge, risparmiatore per carattere o per necessità, ebbe interesse agli studi di umanità, come risulta da un suo Libro di Ricordi che è anche la principale fonte di notizie sull'infanzia di Niccolò.[5] La madre, secondo un suo lontano pronipote,[6] avrebbe composto laude sacre, rimaste peraltro sconosciute, dedicate proprio al figlio Niccolò.  Nel 1476 Niccolò cominciò a studiare latino con un certo Matteo, l'anno dopo si dedicava allo studio della grammatica con Battista da Poppi, all'aritmetica nel 1480 e l'anno seguente affrontava le prove scritte di componimento in latino. Opere in questa lingua esistevano nella biblioteca paterna: la I Deca di Tito Livio e quelle di Flavio Biondo, opere di Cicerone, Macrobio, Prisciano e Marco Giuniano Giustino. Adulto, maneggerà anche Lucrezio[7] e la Historia persecutionis vandalicae di Vittore Uticense. Non conobbe invece il greco antico, ma poté leggere le traduzioni latine di alcuni degli storici più importanti, soprattutto Tucidide, Polibio e Plutarco, da cui trasse importantissimi spunti per la sua riflessione sulla Storia[8]. S'interessò alla politica anche prima di avere degli incarichi istituzionali, come dimostra una sua lettera del 9 marzo 1498, la seconda che di lui ci è pervenuta - la prima è una richiesta al cardinale Giovanni Lopez, del 2 dicembre 1497, affinché si adoperi a riconoscere alla sua famiglia un terreno contestato dalla famiglia dei Pazzi - indirizzata probabilmente all'amico Ricciardo Becchi, ambasciatore fiorentino a Roma, nella quale egli si esprime in modo critico contro Girolamo Savonarola.  Due sono le fasi che scandiscono la vita di Niccolò Machiavelli: nella prima parte della sua esistenza egli è impegnato soprattutto negli affari pubblici; nella successiva nella scrittura di testi di portata teorica e speculativa. A partire dal 1512 si apre la seconda fase segnata dal forzato allontanamento dello storico e filosofo toscano dalla politica attiva. «Della persona fu ben proporzionato, di mezzana statura, di corporatura magro, eretto nel portamento con piglio ardito. I capelli ebbe neri, la carnagione bianca ma pendente all'ulivigno; piccolo il capo, il volto ossuto, la fronte alta. Gli occhi vividissimi e la bocca sottile, serrata, parevano sempre un poco ghignare. Di lui più ritratti ci rimangono, di buona fattura, ma soltanto Leonardo, col quale ebbe pur che fare ai suoi prosperi giorni, avrebbe potuto ritradurre in pensiero, col disegno e i colori, quel fine ambiguo sorriso»  (Roberto Ridolfi, Vita di Niccolò Machiavelli, p. 22)  Caterina Sforza Riario, ritratta da Lorenzo di Credi. Niccolò aveva già presentato al Consiglio dei Richiesti, il 18 febbraio 1498, la propria candidatura a segretario della Seconda Cancelleria della Repubblica fiorentina, ma gli fu preferito un candidato savonaroliano. Pochi giorni però dopo la fine dell'avventura politica e religiosa del frate ferrarese, il 28 maggio Machiavelli fu nuovamente designato ed eletto il 15 giugno dal Consiglio degli Ottanta, elezione ratificata dal Consiglio maggiore il 19 giugno 1498, probabilmente grazie all'autorevole raccomandazione del Primo segretario della Repubblica, Marcello Virgilio Adriani, che il Giovio asserisce[9] essere stato suo maestro.  Per quanto i compiti delle due Cancellerie siano stati spesso confusi, generalmente alla prima si attribuivano gli affari esterni, e alla seconda quelli interni e la guerra: ma i compiti della seconda Cancelleria, presto unificati con quelli della Cancelleria dei Dieci di libertà e pace, consistevano nel tenere i rapporti con gli ambasciatori della Repubblica, cosicché, essendogli stata affidata, il 14 luglio, anche questa ulteriore responsabilità, Machiavelli finì per doversi occupare di una tale somma di compiti da essere storicamente considerato, senza ulteriori distinzioni, il «Segretario fiorentino».  Era il tempo nel quale, conclusa l'avventura italiana di Carlo VIII, la maggiore preoccupazione di Firenze era volta alla riconquista di Pisa - resasi indipendente dopo che Piero de' Medici l'aveva data in pegno al re di Francia- e alleata di Venezia che, intendendo impedire l'espansione fiorentina, aveva invaso il Casentino, occupandolo a nome dei Medici. Il pericolo venne fronteggiato dal capitano di ventura Paolo Vitelli, e la mediazione del duca di Ferrara Ercole I, il 6 aprile 1499, riconsegnò il Casentino a Firenze, autorizzandola altresì a riprendersi Pisa. In marzo venne inviato a Pontedera, dove erano acquartierate le milizie del signore di Piombino, Jacopo d'Appiano, alleato di Firenze.  In maggio scrisse il Discorso della guerra di Pisa per il magistrato dei Dieci: poiché «Pisa bisogna averla o per assedio o per fame o per espugnazione, con andare con artiglieria alle mura», esaminate diverse soluzioni, si esprime favorevole a un assedio di «un quaranta o cinquanta dì ed in questo mezzo trarne tutti gli uomini da guerra potete, e non solamente cavarne chi vuole uscire, ma premiare chi non ne volesse uscire, perché se ne esca. Dipoi, passato detto tempo, fare in un subito quanti fanti si può; fare due batterie, e quanto altro è necessario per accostarsi alle mura; dare libera licenza che se ne esca chiunque vuole, donne, fanciulli, vecchi ed ognuno, perché ognuno a difenderla è buono; e così trovandosi i Pisani voti di difensori dentro, battuti dai tre lati, a tre o quattro assalti sarìa impossibile che reggessero».  Il 16 luglio 1499 si presentò a Forlì alla contessa Caterina Sforza Riario, nipote di Ludovico il Moro e madre di Ottaviano Riario, che era stato al soldo dei fiorentini, per rinnovare l'alleanza e ottenere uomini e munizioni per la guerra pisana. Ottenne solo vaghe promesse dalla contessa che era già impegnata a sostenere lo zio nella difficile difesa del Ducato milanese dalle mire di Luigi XII e dovette ripartire senza aver nulla ottenuto. Era nuovamente a Firenze in agosto, quando le artiglierie fiorentine, provocata una breccia nelle mura pisane, aprivano la via alla conquista della città, ma il Vitelli non seppe sfruttare l'occasione e temporeggiò finché la malaria non ebbe ragione delle sue truppe, costringendolo a togliere l'assedio il 14 settembre. Invano ritentò l'impresa: sospettato di tradimento, quello che «era il più reputato capitano d'Italia»[10] fu decapitato.  Nessuna prova vi era che il Vitelli fosse stato corrotto dai Pisani ma la giustificazione di Machiavelli, a nome della Repubblica, in risposta alle critiche di un cancelliere di Lucca, fu che «o per non havere voluto, sendo corropto, o per non havere potuto, non avendo la compagnia, ne sono nati per sua colpa infiniti mali ad la nostra impresa, et merita l'uno o l'altro errore, o tuct'a due insieme che possono stare, infinito castigo».[11] Conquistato il Ducato di Milano, in risposta alla richieste fiorentine Luigi XII mandò suoi soldati a risolvere l'impresa di Pisa le cui mura furono bensì abbattute nel luglio del 1500 ma né gli svizzeri né i francesi entrarono in città anzi, lamentando che Firenze non li pagasse, levarono l'assedio e sequestrarono il commissario fiorentino Luca degli Albizzi, che fu rilasciato solo dietro riscatto. A Machiavelli, presente ai fatti, non restava che informare la Repubblica, che decise di mandarlo in Francia, insieme con Francesco della Casa, per cercare nuovi accordi che risolvessero finalmente la guerra di Pisa.   Il cardinale di Rouen Georges d'Amboise Il 6 agosto 1500 raggiunsero la corte francese a Nevers, presentando al re e al ministro, cardinale di Rouen, le rimostranze per il cattivo comportamento dei loro soldati; sapendo che Firenze non aveva al momento denari sufficienti a finanziare l'impresa, invitarono Luigi a intervenire direttamente nella guerra, al termine della quale la Repubblica avrebbe ripagato la Francia di tutte le spese. Il rifiuto dei francesi - che richiedevano a Firenze il mantenimento degli svizzeri rimasti accampati in Lunigiana e minacciavano la rottura dell'alleanza - mise i legati fiorentini, privi di istruzioni dalla Repubblica, in difficoltà, acuite dalla ribellione di Pistoia e dalle iniziative che frattanto aveva preso in Romagna Cesare Borgia, i cui ambiziosi e oscuri piani potevano anche indirizzarsi contro gli interessi fiorentini.  Occorreva, pagando, mantenere buoni rapporti con la Francia - scriveva da Tours il 21 novembre - e guardarsi dalle macchinazioni del papa: così, ottenuto dalla Signoria il denaro richiesto dalla Francia, Machiavelli poteva finalmente ritornare a Firenze il 14 gennaio 1501. Quella lunga permanenza nella corte francese verrà dislocata negli opuscoli (entrambi del 1510) De natura Gallorum, dove i francesi verranno descritti come «humilissimi nella captiva fortuna; nella buona insolenti [ ... ] più cupidi de' danari che del sangue [ ... ] vani et leggieri [ ... ] più tosto tachagni che prudenti», con una bassa opinione degli Italiani, e nel successivo Ritratto delle cose di Francia, dove, spostandosi su un piano d'analisi prettamente politica, finisce col fare della Francia l'esemplare dello stato moderno. Soprattutto egli insiste sul nesso fra la prosperità della monarchia e il raggiunto processo di unificazione nazionale, sentito come la lezione peculiare delle "cose di Francia".[12]  Cesare Borgia «Questo signore è molto splendido e magnifico, e nelle armi è tanto animoso che non è sì gran cosa che non gli paia piccola, e per gloria e per acquistare Stato mai si riposa né conosce fatica o periculo: giugne prima in un luogo che se ne possa intendere la partita donde si lieva; fassi ben volere a' suoi soldati; ha cappati e' migliori uomini d'Italia: le quali cose lo fanno vittorioso e formidabile, aggiunte con una perpetua fortuna»  (Machiavelli, Lettera ai Dieci del 26 giugno 1502) La minaccia del Borgia si fece presto concreta: fermato dalle minacce della Francia quando tentava d'impadronirsi di Bologna, si volse contro Piombino, entrando nel territorio della Repubblica e cercando di imporle tributi, dai quali Firenze fu nuovamente fatta salva dall'intervento di Luigi. Fra una missione a Pistoia e un'altra a Siena, Niccolò ebbe tempo di sposare, nell'autunno del 1501, Marietta Corsini, donna di modesta origine, dalla quale avrà sei figli: Primerana, Bernardo, Lodovico, Guido, Piero e Baccina. Padrone di Piombino il 3 settembre 1501, il Borgia, per mezzo del suo sodale Vitellozzo Vitelli s'impadronì di Arezzo, dove si stabilì Piero de' Medici, poi delle terre di Valdichiana, di Cortona, di Anghiari e di Borgo San Sepolcro e di lì passò a investire Camerino e Urbino, chiedendo nel contempo di intavolare trattative con Firenze che, nel frattempo, vistasi stretta dai due Borgia, padre e figlio, aveva rinnovato gli accordi con la Francia.  Il 22 giugno 1502, lo stesso giorno della caduta della città nelle mani di Cesare, partirono per Urbino Machiavelli e il vescovo di Volterra, Francesco Soderini, fratello di Piero: ricevuti il 24 giugno, si sentirono ordinare di cambiare il governo della Repubblica, pena la sua inimicizia. La crisi fu superata grazie all'intervento delle armi francesi: avvicinandosi queste ad Arezzo, la città fu sgomberata e restituita, insieme con le altre terre, ai Fiorentini. Riferimento a questi casi è il breve scritto dell'anno successivo, Del modo di trattare i popoli della Valdichiana ribellati, nel quale, preso esempio dal comportamento tenuto dagli antichi Romani in caso di ribellioni, rimprovera il governo fiorentino di non aver trattato severamente la ribelle città di Arezzo. Pensa che come i Romani  «fecero giudizio differente per esser differente il peccato di quelli popoli, così dovevi fare voi, trovando ancora nei vostri ribellati differenza di peccati [ ... ] giudico ben giudicato che a Cortona, Castiglione, il Borgo, Foiano, si siano mantenuti i capitoli, siano vezzeggiati e vi siate ingegnati riguadagnarli con i beneficii [ ... ] ma io non approvo che gli Aretini, simili ai Veliterni ed Anziani non siano stati trattati come loro.[13] [ ... ] I Romani pensarono una volta che i popoli ribellati si debbano o beneficare o spegnere e che ogni altra via sia pericolosissima.»  Di fronte a quelli che apparivano tempi nuovi e tempestosi, nei quali occorreva che uomini capaci prendessero pronte risoluzioni, come prima riforma nell'organizzazione dello Stato fiorentino fu resa vitalizia la carica di gonfaloniere, affidata, il 15 settembre 1502, a Pier Soderini, che appariva uomo accetto tanto agli ottimati che ai popolani. La prima missione che egli affidò a Machiavelli[14] fu quella di prendere nuovamente contatto col Borgia il quale, formalmente capitano delle truppe pontificie e finanziato da quello Stato, intendeva tuttavia agire nel proprio interesse e in quello della sua famiglia, stringendo un nuovo patto col Luigi XII e ottenendone libertà d'azione nei suoi piani di espansione, non solo nei confronti di signorotti quali gli Orsini, i Baglioni e il Vitelli, già suoi alleati, ma anche contro lo stesso Bentivoglio di Bologna. Seguendo la tradizionale politica di alleanza con la Francia, Firenze - pur diffidando del Valentino - intendeva confermargli la sua amicizia, per non essere investita dai suoi aggressivi disegni.  Machiavelli giunse a Imola dal Borgia il 7 ottobre, confidandogli che Firenze non aveva aderito all'offerta di amicizia propostale dagli Orsini e dai Vitelli, congiurati a Magione contro il duca Valentino, e ne ricevette in cambio un'offerta di alleanza, alla quale Niccolò, affascinato dalla figura di Cesare Borgia, guardava con favore più di quanto non facesse il governo fiorentino. Fu al seguito del Valentino per tutta la durata di quei tre mesi di campagna militare e, il 1º gennaio 1503, due ore dopo l'uccisione a tradimento di Vitellozzo e di Oliverotto da Fermo, ne raccolse le parole «savie e affezionatissime»[15] per i Fiorentini, invitati nuovamente a unirsi a lui per avventarsi contro Perugia e Città di Castello. Firenze, a questo punto, decise di mandare presso il Borgia un ambasciatore accreditato, Jacopo Salviati, così che il nostro Segretario il 20 gennaio lasciò il campo di Città della Pieve per fare ritorno a Firenze.   Vitellozzo Vitelli, ritratto da Luca Signorelli. «Vitellozo, Pagolo et duca di Gravina in su muletti ne andorno incontro al duca, accompagnati da pochi cavagli; et Vitellozo disarmato, con una cappa foderata di verde, tucto aflicto se fussi conscio della sua futura morte, dava di sé, conosciuta la virtù dello huomo et la passata sua fortuna, qualche ammiratione [ ... ] Arrivati adunque questi tre davanti al duca, et salutatolo humanamente, furno da quello ricevuti con buono volto [ ... ] Ma, veduto il duca come Liverotto vi mancava [ ... ] adciennò con l'occhio a don Michele, al quale la cura di Leverotto era demandata, che provedessi in modo che Liverotto non schapassi [ ... ] Liverotto havendo facto riverenza, si adcompagnò con gli altri; et entrati in Senigagla, et scavalcati tutti ad lo alloggiamento del duca, et entrati seco in una stanza secreta, furno dal duca fatti prigioni [ ... ] venuta la nocte [ ... ] al duca parve di fare admazare Vitellozzo e Liverotto; et conductogli in uno luogo insieme, gli fe' strangolare [ ... ] Pagolo et el duca di Gravina Orsini furno lasciati vivi per infino che il duca intese che a Roma el papa haveva preso el cardinale Orsino, l'arcivescovo di Firenze et messer Jacopo da Santa Croce; dopo la quale nuova, a dì 18 di giennaio, ad Castel della Pieve furno anchora loro nel medesimo modo strangolati»  (Machiavelli, Descrizione del modo tenuto dal duca Valentino nello ammazzare Vitellozzo Vitelli, Oliverotto da Fermo, il signor Pagolo e il duca di Gravina Orsini, giugno-agosto 1503) La morte di Alessandro VI privò Cesare Borgia delle risorse finanziarie e politiche che gli occorrevano per mantenere il ducato di Romagna, che si dissolse tornando a frammentarsi nelle vecchie signorie, mentre Venezia s'impadronì di Imola e di Rimini. Dopo il brevissimo pontificato di Pio III, Machiavelli fu inviato a Roma il 24 ottobre 1503 per il conclave che il 1º novembre elesse Giulio II. Raccolse le ultime confidenze del Valentino, del quale pronosticò la rovina imminente, e cercò di comprendere le intenzioni politiche del nuovo papa, che egli sperava s'impegnasse contro i Veneziani, le cui mire espansionistiche erano temute da Firenze: «O la sarà una porta che aprirà loro tutta Italia, o fia la rovina loro», scrive il 24 novembre.  A Roma gli giunse la notizia della nascita del secondogenito Bernardo: «Somiglia voi, è bianco come la neve, ma gli ha il capo che pare velluto nero, et è peloso come voi, e da che somiglia voi parmi bello», gli scrive la moglie Marietta il 24 novembre. E Machiavelli, che lungamente in questo scorcio di tempo aveva frequentato la casa del cardinal Soderini, al quale forse prospettò già il suo progetto di costituire una milizia nazionale che sostituisse l'infida soldatesca mercenaria,[16] il 18 dicembre s'avviò per Firenze.  In Francia  Ingresso a Genova di Luigi XII, 1508. Le fortune della Francia in Italia sembrarono declinare dopo la cacciata dal Napoletano ad opera dell'armata spagnola di Gonzalo Fernández de Córdoba. Firenze, alleata di Luigi XII, e timorosa delle prossime iniziative della Spagna, del papa e della nemica tradizionale, la Siena di Pandolfo Petrucci, era interessata a conoscere i progetti del re e a questo scopo alla sua corte mandò Machiavelli «a vedere in viso le provvisioni che si fanno e scrivercene immediate, e aggiungervi la coniettura e iudizio tuo». Il 22 gennaio 1504 Machiavelli era a Milano per conferire con il luogotenente Charles II d'Amboise, che non credeva in un attacco spagnolo in Lombardia e rassicurò Niccolò sull'amicizia francese per Firenze.  Raggiunse la corte e l'ambasciatore Niccolò Valori a Lione il 27 gennaio, ricevendo uguali rassicurazioni dal cardinale di Rouen e da Luigi stesso. In marzo ripartiva per Firenze e di qui si recava per pochi giorni a Piombino da Jacopo d'Appiano, per sondare la posizione di quel signorotto. È di questo tempo la stesura del suo primo Decennale, una storia dei fatti notevoli occorsi degli ultimi dieci anni volta in terzine: Machiavelli non è poeta, anche se invoca Apollo nell'esordio del poemetto, ma a noi interessa il suo giudizio sull'attualità della vicenda politica italiana e su quel che attende Firenze:  «L'imperador, con l'unica sua prole vuol presentarsi al successor di Pietro al Gallo il colpo ricevuto duole; e Spagna che di Puglia tien lo scetro va tendendo a' vicin laccioli e rete, per non tornar con le sue imprese a retro; Marco, pien di paura e pien di sete, fra la pace e la guerra tutto pende; e voi di Pisa troppa voglia avete [ .... ] Onde l'animo mio tutto s'infiamma or di speranza, or di timor si carca tanto che si consuma a dramma a dramma, perché saper vorrebbe dove, carca di tanti incarchi debbe, o in qual porto, con questi venti, andar la vostra barca. Pur si confida nel nocchier accorto ne' remi, nelle vele e nelle sarte; ma sarebbe il cammin facile e corto se voi el tempio riapriste a Marte»  (Decennale primo, vv 529-549) I tentativi d'impadronirsi di Pisa fallirono ancora: battuta a Ponte a Cappellese il 27 marzo 1505, Firenze doveva anche guardarsi dalle manovre dei signori ai loro confini. Machiavelli andò a Perugia l'11 aprile per conferire col Baglioni, ora alleato con gli Orsini, con Lucca e con Siena, poi a Mantova, per cercare invano accordi con il marchese Giovan Francesco Gonzaga e il 17 luglio a Siena. In settembre, fallì un nuovo assalto a Pisa e Machiavelli ne trasse spunto per presentare la proposta della creazione di un esercito cittadino. Rimasti diffidenti i maggiorenti della città - che temevano che un esercito popolare potesse costituire una minaccia per i loro interessi - ma appoggiato dal Soderini, Machiavelli si mosse per mesi nei borghi toscani a far leva di soldati, istruiti «alla tedesca», e finalmente, il 15 febbraio 1506, Firenze poté vedere la prima parata di una milizia «nazionale» che peraltro non avrà nessun ruolo nella successiva conquista di Pisa e si rivelerà di scarso affidamento nella difesa di Prato del 1512. Con la pace concordata con la Francia nell'ottobre 1505, la Spagna, con Ferdinando II d'Aragona, aveva preso definitivamente possesso del Regno di Napoli. I piccoli stati della penisola attendevano ora le mosse di Giulio II, deciso a imporre la sua egemonia nell'Italia centrale: nel luglio, il papa chiese a Firenze di partecipare alla guerra che egli intendeva muovere al signore di Bologna, Giovanni Bentivoglio, che era alleato, come Firenze, dei francesi, e perciò teoricamente amico, oltre che confinante, dei Fiorentini. Si trattava di temporeggiare, osservando gli sviluppi dell'impresa del papa al quale fu mandato Machiavelli, che lo incontrò a Nepi il 27 agosto 1506.  Giulio II gli dimostrò di godere dell'appoggio della Francia, che aveva promesso di inviare truppe in suo aiuto, cosicché fu agevole a Machiavelli promettere aiuti a sua volta - dopo però che fossero arrivati quelli di re Luigi - e seguì papa Giulio che, con la sua corte curiale e pochi armati se n'andava a Perugia, ottenendo, il 13 settembre, la resa senza combattimento di Giampaolo Baglioni che, con stupore e rimprovero del Machiavelli[17] e, un giorno, anche del Guicciardini,[18] non ebbe il coraggio di opporsi alle poche forze allora a disposizione del Papa. La corte papale, dopo aver atteso a Cesena fino a ottobre l'arrivo dei francesi e, dopo questi, dei Fiorentini di Marcantonio Colonna, entrò trionfante a Bologna l'11 novembre. Machiavelli, tornato a Firenze già alla fine d'ottobre, s'occupò ancora dell'istituzione delle milizie fiorentine: il 6 dicembre furono creati i Nove ufficiali dell'Ordinanza e Milizia fiorentina, eletti dal popolo, responsabili militari della Repubblica.  In Germania  Massimiliano I d'Asburgo Il nuovo anno 1507 si aprì con le minacce del passaggio in Italia del «Re dei Romani» Massimiliano, intenzionato a ribadire le proprie pretese di dominio sulla penisola, a espellere i francesi e a farsi incoronare a Roma «imperatore del Sacro Romano Impero». Si valutò a Firenze la possibilità di finanziargli l'impresa in cambio della sua amicizia e del riconoscimento dell'indipendenza della Repubblica: il 27 giugno fu inviato a questo scopo l'ambasciatore Francesco Vettori e, il 17 dicembre, lo stesso Machiavelli. Giunse a Bolzano, dove Massimiliano teneva corte, l'11 gennaio 1508 e le lunghe trattative sull'esborso preteso da Massimiliano s'interruppero quando i Veneziani, sconfiggendolo più volte, gli fecero comprendere la velleità dei suoi sogni di gloria.  Da questa esperienza Machiavelli trasse tre scritti, il Rapporto delle cose della Magna, composto il 17 giugno 1508, il giorno dopo il suo rientro a Firenze, il Discorso sopra le cose della Magna e sopra l'Imperatore, del settembre 1509, e il più tardo Ritratto delle cose della Magna, del 1512, una rielaborazione del primo Rapporto. Rileva la grande potenza della Germania, che «abunda di uomini, di ricchezze e d'arme»; le popolazioni hanno «da mangiare e bere e ardere per uno anno: e così da lavorare le industrie loro, per potere in una obsidione [assedio] pascere la plebe e quelli che vivono delle braccia, per uno anno intero sanza perdita. In soldati non spendono perché tengono li uomini loro armati ed esercitati; e li giorni delle feste tali uomini, in cambio delli giuochi, chi si esercita collo scoppietto, chi colla picca e chi con una arme e chi con un'altra, giocando tra loro onori et similia, e quali tra loro poi si godono. In salari e in altre cose spendono poco: talmente che ogni comunità si truova ricca in publico».  Importano e consumano poco perché «le loro necessità sono assai minori delle nostre», ma esportano molte merci «di che quasi condiscono tutta la Italia [...] e così si godono questa loro rozza vita e libertà e per questa causa non vogliono ire alla guerra se non sono soprappagati e questo anche non basterebbe loro, se non fussino comandati dalle loro comunità. E però bisogna a uno imperadore molti più denari che a uno altro principe». Tanta forza potenziale, che potrebbe fare la grandezza politica e militare dell'Imperatore, è limitata dalle divisioni delle comunità governate dai singoli principi, una realtà simile a quella italiana: nessun principe tedesco vuole favorire l'imperatore, «perché, qualunque volta in proprietà lui avessi stati o fussi potente, è domerebbe e abbasserebbe e principi e ridurrebbeli a una obedienzia di sorte da potersene valere a posta sua e non quando pare a loro: come fa oggi il re di Francia, e come fece già il re Luigi, quale con l'arme e ammazzarne qualcuno li ridusse a quella obedienzia che ancora oggi si vede».[19]  La conquista di Pisa Decisa a concludere le operazioni militari contro Pisa, Firenze mandò Machiavelli a far leve di soldati: in agosto condusse soldati prelevati da San Miniato e da Pescia all'assedio della città irriducibile. Riunite altre milizie, si incaricò di tagliare i rifornimenti bloccando l'Arno; poi, il 4 marzo del 1509, andò prima a Lucca a intimare a quella Repubblica di cessare ogni aiuto ai Pisani e, il 14, si recò a Piombino, incontrando gli ambasciatori di Pisa per cercare invano un accordo di resa. Raccolte nuove truppe, in maggio era presente all'assedio: Pisa, ormai stremata, trattava finalmente la pace. Machiavelli accompagnò i legati pisani a Firenze dove, il 4 giugno 1509 fu firmata la resa e l'8 giugno poté entrare in Pisa con i commissari Niccolò Capponi, Antonio Filicaia e Alamanno Salviati. Un ben più vasto incendio era intanto divampato nell'Italia settentrionale: stipulata un'alleanza a Cambrai, Francia, Spagna, Impero e papato si avventavano contro la Repubblica veneziana che a maggio cedeva i suoi possedimenti lombardi e romagnoli e, in giugno, anche Verona, Vicenza e Padova, consegnate a Massimiliano. Firenze, da parte sua, doveva finanziare la nuova impresa imperiale: consegnato un primo acconto in ottobre, il 21 novembre Machiavelli era a Verona per consegnare il saldo a Massimiliano, che era stato però costretto alla ritirata dalla controffensiva veneziana, resa possibile dalla rivolta popolare contro i nuovi padroni. E Machiavelli commentava dei «due re, che l'uno può fare la guerra e non vuol farla, l'altro ben vorrebbe farla e non può»,[20] riferendosi a Luigi e a Massimiliano che se n'era tornato in Germania a chiedere soldati e denari ai principi tedeschi.  Atteso inutilmente il ritorno dell'Imperatore, il 2 gennaio 1510 Machiavelli se ne tornò a Firenze. Venezia si salvò soprattutto grazie alle divisioni degli alleati: mentre Luigi XII aveva tutto l'interesse di ridurre all'impotenza Venezia per avere le mani libere nella pianura padana, Giulio II la voleva abbastanza forte da opporsi alla Francia senza averne contrasto alle proprie ambizioni di espansione. Per Firenze, amica della Francia ma non nemica del papa, era necessario spiegarsi con il re francese, e Machiavelli fu mandato a Blois, dove Luigi teneva la corte, incontrandolo il 17 giugno 1510.  Machiavelli confermò l'amicizia con la Francia ma disse di dubitare che la Repubblica potesse impegnarsi in una guerra contro Giulio II, in grado di volgere contro Firenze forze troppo superiori: meglio sarebbe stata una mediazione che evitasse il conflitto e sottraesse, oltre tutto, Firenze dalla responsabilità di un impegno nel quale era difficile trarre un guadagno. Dovette tornare a Firenze il 19 ottobre, convinto che la guerra fosse ineluttabile. Le vittorie militari non furono sfruttate da Luigi XII e la sua indizione di un concilio a Pisa, che condannasse il papa, provocò l'interdetto di Giulio II contro Firenze. Il 22 settembre 1511 Machiavelli era ancora in Francia, ottenendo dal re soltanto un breve rinvio del concilio: dalla Francia andò a Pisa e riuscì a ottenere il trasferimento del concilio a Milano.  Il ritorno dei Medici a Firenze Le fortune di Luigi XII volgevano al tramonto: sconfitto dalla nuova coalizione guidata dal papa, era costretto ad abbandonare la Lombardia, lasciando Firenze politicamente isolata e incapace di resistere alle armi spagnole. Il 31 agosto 1512 Pier Soderini fuggì a Siena, i Medici rientrarono a Firenze: disfatto il vecchio governo, il 7 novembre anche Machiavelli venne rimosso dal suo incarico, il successivo 10 novembre fu confinato e multato della grande somma di mille fiorini e il 17 gli fu interdetto l'ingresso a Palazzo Vecchio.   Giuliano de' Medici duca di Nemours Il nuovo regime processò Pietro Paolo Boscoli e Agostino Capponi, accusati di aver complottato contro Giuliano de' Medici, condannandoli a morte. Anche Machiavelli è sospettato: arrestato il 12 febbraio 1513, fu anche torturato (gli fu somministrata la corda o, com'era chiamata allora a Firenze, la "colla"[21]). Scrisse allora a Giuliano di Lorenzo de' Medici duca di Nemours due sonetti, per ricordargli, ma senza averne l'aria e in forma scherzosa, la sua condizione di carcerato:  «Io ho, Giuliano, in gamba un paio di geti e sei tratti di fune in sulle spalle; l'altre miserie mie non vo' contalle, poiché così si trattano i poeti  Menon pidocchi queste parieti grossi e paffuti che paion farfalle, né mai fu tanto puzzo in Roncisvalle o in Sardigna fra quegli arboreti quanto nel mio sì delicato ostello»  Giulio II moriva intanto proprio in quei giorni e dal conclave uscì eletto l'11 marzo il cardinale de' Medici con il nome di Leone X: era la fine dei pericoli di guerra per Firenze e anche il tempo dell'amnistia. Uscito dal carcere, Machiavelli cercò di ottenere favori dai Medici attraverso l'ambasciatore Francesco Vettori e lo stesso Giuliano, ma invano. Si ritirò allora nel suo podere dell'Albergaccio, a Sant'Andrea in Percussina, tra Firenze e San Casciano in Val di Pesa.  L'esilio dalla politica. «Il Principe» Qui, tra le giornate rese lunghe dall'ozio forzato, comincia a scrivere i Discorsi sopra la prima Deca di Tito Livio che, forse nel luglio 1513, interrompe per metter mano al suo libro più famoso, il De Principatibus, dal solenne titolo latino ma scritto in volgare e perciò divenuto ben più noto come Il Principe. Lo dedica dapprima a Giuliano di Lorenzo de' Medici e, dopo la morte di questi nel 1516, a Lorenzo de' Medici, figlio di Piero "fatuo"; ma il libro uscì solo postumo, nel 1532. Certo, non doveva farsi illusioni che un Medici potesse mai essere quel «redentore» atteso dall'Italia contro «questo barbaro dominio», ma da un Medici si attendeva almeno la sua propria «redenzione» dall'inattività cui era stato relegato dal ritorno a Firenze di quella famiglia.  Sperava che l'amico Vettori, ambasciatore a Roma, si facesse interprete del suo «desiderio [...] che questi signori Medici mi cominciasseino adoperare», dal momento «che io sono stato a studio all'arte dello stato [...] e doverrebbe ciascheduno aver caro servirsi d'uno che alle spese d'altri fussi pieno d'esperienza. E della fede mia non si doverrebbe dubitare, perché, avendo sempre osservato la fede, io non debbo imparare ora a romperla; e chi è stato fedele e buono quarantatré anni che io ho, non debbe potere mutare natura; e della fede e bontà mia ne è testimonio la povertà mia». Delle ombre della sua povertà, ma anche delle sue luci, Machiavelli scrive al Vettori in quella che è la più famosa lettera della nostra letteratura:   L'Albergaccio di Machiavelli a Sant'Andrea in Percussina «Venuta la sera, mi ritorno in casa ed entro nel mio scrittoio; e in su l'uscio mi spoglio quella veste cotidiana, piena di fango e di loto, e mi metto panni reali e curiali; e rivestito condecentemente, entro nelle antique corti delli antiqui uomini, dove, da loro ricevuto amorevolmente, mi pasco di quel cibo che solum è mio e che io nacqui per lui; dove io non mi vergogno parlare con loro e domandargli della ragione delle loro azioni; e quelli per loro umanità mi rispondono; e non sento per quattro ore di tempo alcuna noia; sdimentico ogni affanno, non temo la povertà, non mi sbigottisce la morte; tutto mi trasferisco in loro. E perché Dante dice che non fa scienza sanza lo ritenere lo avere inteso, io ho notato quello di che per la loro conversazione ho fatto capitale, e composto uno opuscolo de Principatibus»  (Lettera a Francesco Vettori, 10 dicembre 1513) Ritornato il 3 febbraio 1514 a Firenze, continuò a sperare a lungo che il Vettori, al quale spedì il manoscritto del Principe,[22] lo facesse introdurre in qualche incarico nell'amministrazione cittadina, ma invano. Tutto dipendeva dalla volontà del papa, e Leone non era affatto intenzionato a favorire chi non si era mostrato, a suo tempo, favorevole agli interessi di Casa Medici. Machiavelli, da parte sua, scriveva al Vettori di aver «lasciato i pensieri delle cose grandi e gravi» e di non dilettarsi più di «leggere le cose antiche, né ragionare delle moderne: tutte si sono converse in ragionamenti dolci». Si era infatti innamorato di una «creatura tanto gentile, tanto delicata, tanto nobile e per natura e per accidente, che io non potrei né tanto laudarla né tanto amarla che la non meritasse più».[23]  La guerra, ripresa in Italia dalla discesa del nuovo re di Francia Francesco I, si concluse nel settembre 1515 con la sua grande vittoria a Marignano (oggi Melegnano) contro la vecchia «Lega santa»: Leone X dovette accettare il dominio francese in Lombardia e la stipula a Bologna di un concordato che riconosceva il controllo reale sul clero francese. Si rifece impossessandosi, per conto del nipote Lorenzo, capitano generale dei Fiorentini, del Ducato di Urbino. A quest'ultimo invano dedicava Machiavelli il suo Principe: la sua esclusione dalla gestione degli affari di Firenze continuava. Nel 1516 o 1517 si diede a frequentare gli «Orti Oricellari», latineggiamento che indica i giardini del Palazzo di Cosimo Rucellai, dove si riunivano letterati, giuristi ed eruditi come Luigi Alamanni, Jacopo da Diacceto, Jacopo Nardi, Zanobi Buondelmonti, Antonfrancesco degli Albizi, Filippo de' Nerli e Battista della Palla. Qui vi lesse probabilmente qualche capitolo di quell'Asino, poemetto in terzine che voleva essere una contaminazione fra l'Asino d'oro di Apuleio e la Divina Commedia dantesca, ma che lasciò presto interrotto: e al Rucellai e al Buondelmonti dedicò i Discorsi sopra la prima Deca di Tito Livio, scritti dal 1513 al 1519. Machiavelli si era già cimentato, quando ricopriva l'incarico di segretario della Repubblica, in composizioni teatrali: una imitazione dell'Aulularia di Plauto e una commedia, Le maschere, ispirata a Nebulae di Aristofane, sono tuttavia perdute. Al 1518 risale il suo capolavoro letterario, la commedia Mandragola, nel cui prologo egli inserisce un accenno autobiografico  «scusatelo con questo, che s'ingegna con questi van pensieri fare el suo tristo tempo più suave, perch'altrove non have dove voltare el viso; ché gli è stato interciso mostrar con altre imprese altra virtue, non sendo premio alle fatiche sue.»  Intorno a quest'anno vanno collocate la traduzione dell'Andria di Terenzio e stesura della novella di Belfagor arcidiavolo o Novella del demonio che pigliò moglie - il suo titolo preciso è attualmente stabilito in Favola - il cui tema di fondo è la visione pessimistica dei rapporti che legano gli esseri umani, tutti intesi al proprio interesse a danno, se necessario, di quello di ciascun altro.  Il ritorno alla vita politica Lorenzo de' Medici morì nel 1519, lasciando il governo di Firenze al cardinale Giulio. Costui, favorevole a Machiavelli, lo incaricò della stesura di una storia della città sotto lauta retribuzione. Machiavelli, galvanizzato dall'incarico, diede alle stampe nel 1521 l’Arte della guerra, dedicandola allo stesso cardinal Giulio. Nello stesso anno fu inviato in missione diplomatica a Carpi presso il governatore Francesco Guicciardini di cui, pur avendo opposte visioni della Storia[24], divenne buon amico. Nel 1525 cercò di guadagnare il favore di papa Clemente VII offrendogli le Istorie fiorentine. Nel frattempo giunsero la revoca ufficiale dell'interdizione dalla vita pubblica e l'affidamento di missioni militari in Romagna in collaborazione col Guicciardini.  L'ultima interdizione dalla vita pubblica e la morte Nel 1527 i Medici furono cacciati da Firenze e venne instaurata nuovamente la repubblica. Machiavelli si propose come candidato alla carica di segretario della repubblica, ma venne respinto in quanto ritenuto colluso coi Medici e soprattutto con papa Clemente VII. La delusione per Machiavelli fu insopportabile. Ammalatosi repentinamente, cominciò a peggiorare vistosamente fino alla morte, sopraggiunta il 21 giugno 1527. Abbandonato da tutti, fu sepolto nel corso di una modesta cerimonia funebre nella tomba di famiglia nella basilica di Santa Croce. Nel 1787 la città di Firenze fece costruire un monumento nella basilica stessa; esso raffigura la Diplomazia assisa su un sarcofago marmoreo. Sulla lastra frontale sono incise le parole Tanto nomini nullum par elogium (Nessun elogio sarà mai degno di tanto nome).  Pensiero Machiavelli e il Rinascimento Con il termine machiavellico si è spesso indicato un atteggiamento spregiudicato e disinvolto nell'uso del potere: un buon principe deve essere astuto per evitare le trappole tese dagli avversari, capace di usare la forza se ciò si rivela necessario, abile manovratore negli interessi propri e del suo popolo. Ciò si accompagna a un travaglio personale che Machiavelli sentiva nella sua attività quotidiana e di teorico, secondo una tradizione politica che già in Cicerone affermava: "un buon politico deve avere le giuste conoscenze, stringere mani, vestire in modo elegante, tessere amicizie clientelari per avere un'adeguata scorta di voti".  Con Machiavelli l'Italia ha conosciuto il più grande teorico della politica. Secondo Machiavelli la politica è il campo nel quale l'uomo può mostrare nel modo più evidente la propria capacità di iniziativa, il proprio ardimento, la capacità di costruire il proprio destino secondo il classico modello del faber fortunae suae. Nel suo pensiero si risolve il conflitto fra regole morali e ragion di Stato che impone talvolta di sacrificare i propri princìpi in nome del superiore interesse di un popolo. La politica deve essere autonoma da teologia e morale e non ammette ideali, è un gioco di forze finalizzate al bene della collettività e dello stato. La politica, svincolata da dogmatismi e princìpi teorici, guarda alla realtà effettuale, ai "fatti": "Mi è parso più conveniente andare dietro alla verità effettuale della cosa piuttosto che alla immaginazione di essa". Si tratta di una visione antropocentrica che si richiama all'Umanesimo quattrocentesco ed esprime gli ideali del Rinascimento.  Magnifying glass icon mgx2.svg        Lo stesso argomento in dettaglio: Rinascimento italiano. Nel Discorso o dialogo intorno alla nostra lingua, opera di non certa attribuzione e che non fu pubblicata, Machiavelli dà un giudizio severo su Dante Alighieri, col quale inscena un dialogo nell'opera. Dante è rimproverato di negare la matrice fiorentina della lingua della Commedia. Il passo assume i caratteri dell'invettiva contro il poeta concittadino, accusato di aver infangato la reputazione di Firenze:  «[...] Dante il quale in ogni parte mostrò d'esser per ingegno, per dottrina et per giuditio huomo eccellente, eccetto che dove egli hebbe a ragionare della patria sua, la quale, fuori d'ogni humanità et filosofico instituto, perseguitò con ogni spetie d'ingiuria. E non potendo altro fare che infamarla, accusò quella d'ogni vitio, dannò gli uomini, biasimò il sito, disse male de' costumi et delle legge di lei; et questo fece non solo in una parte de la sua cantica, ma in tutta, et diversamente et in diversi modi: tanto l'offese l'ingiuria dell'exilio, tanta vendetta ne desiderava! [...] Ma la Fortuna, per farlo mendace et per ricoprire con la gloria sua la calunnia falsa di quello, l'ha continuamente prosperata et fatta celebre per tutte le province cristiane, et condotta al presente in tanta felicità et sì tranquillo stato, che se Dante la vedessi, o egli accuserebbe sé stesso, o ripercosso dai colpi di quella sua innata invidia, vorrebbe essendo risuscitato di nuovo morire.»  (Niccolò Machiavelli, Discorso o dialogo intorno alla nostra lingua) Poi, durante un altro scambio immaginario con Dante, Machiavelli rimprovera il carattere "goffo", "osceno", addirittura "porco" del registro utilizzato nell'Inferno:  «N. Dante mio, io voglio che tu t'emendi, et che tu consideri meglio il parlare fiorentino et la tua opera; et vedrai che, se alcuno s'harà da vergognare, sarà più tosto Firenze che tu: perché, se considererai bene a quel che tu hai detto, tu vedrai come ne' tuoi versi non hai fuggito il goffo, come è quello:  "Poi ci partimmo et n'andavamo introcque";  non hai fuggito il porco, com'è quello:  "che merda fa di quel che si trangugia";  non hai fuggito l'osceno, com'è:  "le mani alzò con ambedue le fiche";  e non avendo fuggito questo, che disonora tutta l'opera tua, tu non puoi haver fuggito infiniti vocaboli patrii che non s'usano altrove che in quella [...]»  (Niccolò Machiavelli, Discorso o dialogo intorno alla nostra lingua) La concezione della storia  Autografo delle Historiae Fiorentinae Per Machiavelli la storia è il punto di riferimento verso il quale il politico deve sempre orientare la propria azione. La storia fornisce i dati oggettivi su cui basarsi, i modelli da imitare, ma indica anche le strade da non ripercorrere. Machiavelli si basa su una concezione ciclica della storia: "Tutti li tempi tornano, li uomini sono sempre li medesimi". Ma ciò che allontana Machiavelli da una visione deterministica della storia è l'importanza che egli attribuisce alla virtù, ovvero alla capacità dell'uomo di dominare il corso degli eventi utilizzando opportunamente le esperienze degli errori compiuti nel passato, nonché servendosi di tutti i mezzi e di tutte le occasioni per la più alta finalità dello stato, facendo anche violenza, se necessario, alla legge morale.  Non a caso il Principe, nella conclusione, abbandona il suo taglio cinico e pragmatico per esortare i sovrani italiani, con una scrittura più solenne e venata di un certo idealismo, a riconquistare la sovranità perduta e a cacciare l'invasore straniero. Non c'è rassegnazione nel Principe, né tanto meno sfiducia nei confronti dell'uomo. La storia è il prodotto dell'attività politica dell'uomo per finalità terrene esclusivamente pratiche. Lo stato, oggetto di tale attività, nella situazione politica e nel pensiero del tempo si identifica con la persona del principe.  Di conseguenza l'attività politica è riservata solo ai grandi protagonisti, ai pochi capaci di agire, non al "vulgo" incapace di decisione e di coraggio. L'obiettivo è creare o conservare lo stato, una creazione individuale legata alle qualità e alla sorte del suo fondatore: la fine del principe può determinare la fine del suo stato, come capitò ad esempio a Cesare Borgia. Il Machiavelli ha dunque un'importanza fondamentale per la scoperta che la politica è una forma particolare autonoma di attività umana, il cui studio rende possibile la comprensione delle leggi da cui è perennemente retta la storia; da quella scoperta discende, come suo naturale fondamento, una vigorosa concezione della vita, incentrata unicamente sulla volontà e sulla responsabilità dell'uomo. Una errata interpretazione del Novecento fece del Machiavelli un precursore del movimento unitario italiano, ma la parola nazione ha assunto l'attuale significato solo a partire dalla seconda metà del Settecento, mentre il Machiavelli la usò in senso particolaristico e cittadino (es. nazione fiorentina o, nel senso più generico di popolo, moltitudine). Tuttavia, Machiavelli propugnava un principato in grado di reggersi sull'unità etnica [senza fonte] dell'Italia; così facendo, e denunciando in tal modo una chiara coscienza dell'esistenza di una civiltà italiana[senza fonte], Machiavelli predicava la liberazione dell'Italia sotto il patrocinio di un principe, criticando il dominio temporale dei Papi che spezzava in due la penisola.  Ma l'unità d'Italia resta in Machiavelli un problema solo intuito. Non si può dubitare che avesse concepito l'idea dell'unità italiana, ma tale idea restò indeterminata, poiché non trovò appigli concreti nella realtà, restando perciò a livello di utopia, cui solo dava forma la figura ideale del principe nuovo. Machiavelli dunque intraprese un viaggio che identificò come spirituale in giro per il mondo. In seguito, tornato in patria, ebbe una nuova visione sia del "popolo" che della "nazione" (di qui quello che oggi definiamo rinnovamento culturale).  Il principe o De Principatibus Magnifying glass icon mgx2.svg                                     Lo stesso argomento in dettaglio: Il Principe.  Niccolò Machiavelli nello studio, Stefano Ussi, 1894 Emblematico è il modo di trattare argomenti delicati, quali le mosse necessarie al Principe per organizzare uno stato ed ottenerne uno stabile e duraturo consenso. Per esempio vi troviamo indicazioni programmatiche, quali l'utilità nello "spegnere" gli stati abituati a vivere liberi di modo da averli sotto il proprio diretto controllo (metodo preferito al creare un'amministrazione locale "filo-principesca" o al recarvisi e stabilirvisi personalmente, metodo però sempre tenuto da conto in modo da avere un occhio sempre presente sulle proprie terre, e stabilire una figura rispettata e conosciuta in loco).  Altro elemento caratteristico del trattato sta nella scelta dell'atteggiamento da tenere nei confronti dei sudditi, culminante nell'annosa questione del "s'elli è meglio essere amato che temuto o e converso" (Cap. XVII[25]). La risposta corretta si concretizzerebbe in un ipotetico principe amato e temuto, ma essendo difficile o quasi impossibile per una persona umana l'essere ambedue le cose, si conclude decretando che la posizione più utile viene ad essere quella del Principe temuto (pur ricordando che mai e poi mai il Principe dovrà rendersi odioso nei confronti del popolo, fatto che porrebbe i prodromi della propria caduta). Qua appare indubbiamente la concezione realistica e la concretezza del Machiavelli, il quale non viene a proporre un ipotetico Principe perfetto, ma irrealizzabile nel concreto, bensì una figura effettivamente possibile e soprattutto "umana".  Ulteriore atteggiamento principesco dovrà l'essere metaforicamente sia "volpe" che "leone", in modo da potersi difendere dalle avversità sia tramite l'astuzia (volpe) che tramite la violenza (leone). Mantenendo un solo atteggiamento dei due non ci si potrà difendere da una minaccia violenta o di astuzia. Spesso alla figura evocata dal Principe di Machiavelli viene associata la figura di un uomo privo di scrupoli, di un cinismo estremo, nemico della libertà. Inoltre gli viene erroneamente associata la frase "il fine giustifica i mezzi", che invece mai enunciò. Questo perché la parola "giustifica" evoca sempre un criterio morale, mentre Machiavelli non vuole "giustificare" nulla, vuole solo valutare, in base ad un altro metro di misura, se i mezzi utilizzati sono adatti a conseguire il fine politico, l'unico fine da perseguire è il mantenimento dello Stato.  Machiavelli nella stesura del Principe si rifà alla reale situazione che gli si presentava attorno, una situazione che necessitava essere risolta con un atto deciso, forte, violento. Machiavelli non vuole proporre dei mezzi giustificati da un fine, egli pone un programma politico che qualunque Principe che voglia portare alla liberazione dell'Italia, da troppo tempo schiava, dovrà seguire. Fuori dai suoi intenti una giustificazione morale dei punti suggeriti: egli stende un vademecum necessariamente utile a quel Principe che finalmente vorrà impugnare le armi. Alle accuse di sola illiberalità od autoritarismo, si può dare una risposta leggendo il capitolo IX, "De Principatu Civili", ritratto di un principe nascente dal e col consenso del popolo, figura ben più solida del Principe nato dal consesso dei "grandi", cioè dei grandi proprietari feudali. Non esiste un unico tipo di principato, ma per ognuno troviamo un'ampia trattazione di pregi e dei difetti.  Controversie sul Principe «Quel grande / che temprando lo scettro a' regnatori gli allor ne sfronda, ed alle genti svela / di che lagrime grondi e di che sangue»  (Ugo Foscolo, Dei sepolcri) La gelida obiettività e un certo cinismo con cui Machiavelli descriveva il comportamento freddo, razionale ed eventualmente spietato che un capo di Stato deve mettere in atto, colpì i critici. Così, da una parte vi è la linea di pensiero tradizionale, secondo la quale "Il Principe" è un trattato di scienza politica destinato al governante, che tramite esso saprà come affrontare i problemi, spesso drammatici, posti dal suo ruolo di garante della stabilità dello stato. Dall'altra, troviamo un'interpretazione secondo cui il trattato di Machiavelli, che era originariamente un repubblicano, ha come vero scopo quello di mettere a nudo, e quindi chiarire, le atrocità compiute dai principi dell'epoca, a vantaggio del popolo, che di conseguenza avrebbe le dovute conoscenze per attuare le precauzioni al fine di stare in guardia e difendersi quando si dimostra necessario. Il principe è visto anche come figura assai drammatica, la quale, per il bene dello stato stesso, non si può permettere di lasciare spazio al proprio carattere, diventando così quasi un uomo-macchina.[26][27] Secondo alcuni, Machiavelli venne in realtà accusato da subito di nicodemismo, e:  «...di non aver mirato ad altro, in quel libro, che a condurre il tiranno a precipitosa rovina, allettandolo con precetti a lui graditi...»  (Attribuita a Niccolò Machiavelli[28]) Magnifying glass icon mgx2.svg     Lo stesso argomento in dettaglio: Machiavellismo § L'antimachiavellismo e il repubblicanesimo. Gli esponenti di questa seconda interpretazione (la cosiddetta "interpretazione obliqua", diffusa dal XVII secolo, e avanzata per la prima volta da Alberico Gentili nel 1585[29] ispirandosi a Reginald Pole[30], poi ripresa da Traiano Boccalini e in seguito Baruch Spinoza)[31], furono numerosi soprattutto in ambito illuminista (anche se venne rifiutata da Voltaire[32]), che vedeva in Machiavelli un precursore della politica laica e del repubblicanesimo: la sostennero, dal Settecento, Jean-Jacques Rousseau[33], Vittorio Alfieri[34], Giuseppe Baretti[35], Giuseppe Maria Galanti[36], gli enciclopedisti[37] (in primis Denis Diderot[3 Opere Discorso 8] e Jean Baptiste d'Alembert), Ugo Foscolo e Giuseppe Parini[39], e ha avuto diffusione soprattutto nell'Ottocento, prima e durante il Risorgimento[26]; ne è un esempio quello che Foscolo scrive nei "Sepolcri": «Io quando il monumento / vidi ove posa il corpo di quel grande / che temprando lo scettro a' regnatori / gli allor ne sfronda, ed alle genti svela / di che lagrime grondi e di che sangue». Forse alcuni di essi - ad esempio, per quanto riguarda Foscolo, è un'ipotesi alternativa di Spongano e riportata anche da Mario Pazzaglia - ritenevano anche che, pur essendo Il principe un'opera fatta per i tiranni e i governanti, fosse utile lo stesso per svelare al popolo gli intrighi del potere, ritenendo valida l'interpretazione obliqua, qualunque fossero le intenzioni di Machiavelli.[40]  In generale, per i sostenitori di questa lettura, Il principe avrebbe, come le satire (ad esempio Una modesta proposta di Jonathan Swift), uno scopo opposto a quello apparente, come avverrà anche per alcuni scritti di epoca romantica (Lettera semiseria di Grisostomo di Giovanni Berchet o alcune Operette Morali di Giacomo Leopardi[41]).  In epoca più recente, tuttavia, nella maggioranza dei critici è prevalsa la prima interpretazione, quella tradizionale, dal quale risalta la libertà e concretezza, anche spregiudicata, del pensiero di Machiavelli, che non descrive mondi utopici, ma il mondo reale della politica dei suoi tempi[42], e la sua concezione anticipatrice del realismo politico e della cosiddetta realpolitik.[43] L'interpretazione obliqua è stata riproposta in modo minoritario, ad esempio in alcuni monologhi del drammaturgo e attore Dario Fo.[44] Il modello linguistico prescelto da Machiavelli è fondato sull'uso vivo più che sui modelli letterari; lo scopo, esplicito soprattutto nel Principe, di scrivere qualcosa di utile e chiaramente espressivo lo induce a scegliere spesso modi di dire proverbiali di immediata evidenza. Il lessico impiegato dall'autore si rifà a quello boccacciano, è ricco di parole comuni e i latinismi, seppure abbondanti, provengono per lo più dal gergo cancelleresco. Nelle sue opere ricoprono un ruolo assai rilevante anche le metafore, i paragoni e le immagini. La concretezza è una delle caratteristiche salienti, l'esempio concreto ed essenziale, tratto dalla storia sia antica che recente, è sempre preferito al concetto astratto.  In generale si parla di uno stile "fresco", come lo ebbe a definire il filosofo Nietzsche in Al di là del bene e del male, con un riferimento particolare all'uso della paratassi, a una certa sentenziosità delle frasi, costruite secondo un criterio di chiarezza a scapito di un maggior rigore logico-sintattico. Machiavelli rende evidenti concetti che, se espressi con un linguaggio più elaborato, sarebbero molto difficili da decifrare, e riesce a esprimere le sue tesi con originale capacità espositiva. Opere Discorso fatto al magistrato de' Dieci sopra le cose di Pisa (1499) Parole da dirle sopra la provvisione del danaio (1503) Descrizione del modo tenuto dal Duca Valentino nello ammazzare Vitellozzo Vitelli, Oliverotto da Fermo, il Signor Pagolo e il duca di Gravina Orsini (1503) De natura Gallorum (1510) Ritratto delle cose di Francia (1510) Ritratto delle cose della Magna (1512) Il Principe (1513) – Testo su Wikisource Discorsi sopra la prima deca di Tito Livio (1513 –1519) Dell'arte della guerra (1519 – 1520) La vita di Castruccio Castracani da Lucca (1520) Istorie fiorentine (1520 – 1525) – Riedizione Istorie fiorentine, Venezia, 1546. Discorso o dialogo intorno alla nostra lingua (pubblicato nel 1730) Decennali Mandragola (1518), commedia teatrale Belfagor arcidiavolo (1518 - 1527) Epistolario (1497 – 1527) L'asino (1517) Edizioni critiche in pubblico dominio:  Legazioni, commissarie, scritti di governo. A cura di Fredi Chiappelli. Laterza, Roma-Bari. 1, 1971. 2, 1973. 3, 1984. 4, 1985. Drammaturgie minori Clizia (1525) Andria, traduzione-rifacimento dell'Andria di Terenzio Onori Nel 2009 Alitalia gli ha dedicato uno dei suoi Airbus A320-216 (EI-DTI). Nella cultura di massa Il suo nome, modificato in "Makaveli", venne usato dal rapper statunitense Tupac Shakur tra il 1995 e il 1996 per firmare molte sue canzoni e un album uscito postumo. Niccolò Machiavelli viene proposto anche nel videogioco Assassin's Creed 2 e il seguito Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood, in veste di Assassino. Proprio in quest'ultimo assume un ruolo particolarmente importante, insieme ad altri personaggi dell'Italia rinascimentale. Niccolò Machiavelli è, assieme a John Dee, il principale antagonista della serie di romanzi fantasy I segreti di Nicholas Flamel, l'immortale (come capo dei servizi segreti francesi), scritta da Michael Scott. Nella mostra "Il Principe di Niccolò Machiavelli e il suo tempo. 1513-2013" (Roma, Complesso del Vittoriano, Salone Centrale, 25 aprile-16 giugno 2013), promossa dall'Istituto dell'Enciclopedia Italiana e dalla sezione italiana di Aspen Institute, la sezione "Machiavelli e il nostro tempo: usi e abusi" presenta, tra altre "opere", Figurine Liebig, pacchetti di sigarette, schede telefoniche, trading card, cartoline, francobolli, giochi da tavolo e videogiochi dedicati a Machiavelli[45] Cinema e televisione Nella serie I Borgia di Neil Jordan è interpretato da Julian Bleach. Machiavel è una band belga, catalogabile sotto il genere progressive rock, attiva dal 1974. Il nome della band è un chiaro omaggio a Niccolò Machiavelli. Nella serie I Medici è interpretato da Vincenzo Crea> Edizione nazionale delle opere Edizione Nazionale delle Opere di Niccolò Machiavelli, Salerno Editrice di Roma:  Il principe, a cura di Mario Martelli, corredo filologico a cura di Nicoletta Marcelli, vol. I/1, pp. 536, 2006, ISBN 978-88-8402-520-3 Discorsi sopra la prima Deca di Tito Livio, a cura di Francesco Bausi, vol. I/2, due tomi pp. XLIV-960, 2001, ISBN 978-88-8402-356-8 L'arte della guerra. Scritti politici minori, a cura di Giorgio Masi, Jean Jacques Marchand, Denis Fachard, vol. I/3, pp. XV-726, 2001, ISBN 978-88-8402-338-4 Opere storiche, a cura di Alessandro Montevecchi, Carlo Varotti, vol. II, 2 tomi pp. 1052, 2011, ISBN 978-88-8402-675-0 Teatro. Andria-Mandragola-Clizia, a cura di Pasquale Stoppelli, vol. III/1, pp. XXIX-456, 2017, ISBN 978-88-6973-191-4 Scritti in poesia e in prosa, a cura di Antonio Corsaro, Paola Cosentino, Emanuele Cutinelli-Rèndina, Filippo Grazzini, Nicoletta Marcelli, coordinam. di Francesco Bausi, vol. III/2, pp. XXXVI-652, 2013, ISBN 978-88-8402-770-2 Legazioni, Commissarie, Scritti di governo (1498-1500), a cura di Jean-Jacques Marchand, vol. V/1, pp. 570, 2002, ISBN 978-88-8402-377-7 Legazioni. Commissarie. Scritti di governo (1501-1503), vol. V/2, pp. 650, 2003, ISBN 978-88-8402-408-4 Legazioni. Commissarie. Scritti di governo (1503-1504), a cura di Jean-Jacques Marchand, Matteo Melera-Morettini,vol. V/3, pp. 596, 2005, ISBN 978-88-8402-504-3 Legazioni. Commissarie. Scritti di governo (1504-1505), a cura di Denis Fachard, Emanuele Cutinelli-Rèndina, vol. V/4, pp. 596, 2006, ISBN 978-88-8402-509-8 Legazioni. Commissarie. Scritti di governo (1505-1507), a cura di Jean-Jacques Marchand, Andrea Guidi, Matteo Melera-Morettini, vol. V/5, pp. VIII-596, 2009, ISBN 978-88-8402-642-2 Legazioni. Commissarie. Scritti di governo (1507-1510), a cura di Denis Fachard, Emanuele Cutinelli-Rèndina, vol. V/6, pp. VIII-592, 2011, ISBN 978-88-8402-727-6 Legazioni. Commissarie. Scritti di governo (1510-1527), a cura di Jean-Jacques Marchand, Andrea Guidi, Matteo Melera-Morettini, vol. V/7, pp. VIII-572, 2012, ISBN 978-88-8402-743-6 Note ^ La famosa frase "Il fine giustifica il mezzo" (o "i mezzi"), usata spesso come esempio di machiavellismo, è del critico letterario Francesco de Sanctis, con riferimento ad interpretazioni fuorvianti del pensiero di Machiavelli espresso nel Principe. Il passo di De Sanctis, dal capitolo XV della sua Storia della letteratura italiana, dedicato a Machiavelli, recita: "Ci è un piccolo libro del Machiavelli, tradotto in tutte le lingue, il Principe, che ha gittato nell'ombra le altre sue opere. L'autore è stato giudicato da questo libro, e questo libro è stato giudicato non nel suo valore logico e scientifico, ma nel suo valore morale. E hanno trovato che questo libro è un codice di tirannia, fondato sulla turpe massima che il fine giustifica i mezzi, e il successo loda l'opera. E hanno chiamato machiavellismo questa dottrina. Molte difese sonosi fatte di questo libro ingegnosissime, attribuendosi all'autore questa o quella intenzione più o meno lodevole. Così n'è uscita una discussione limitata e un Machiavelli rimpiccinito". ^ Celebrazioni per il V centenario del Principe di Machiavelli, Accademia della Crusca, 29 novembre 2013. URL consultato il 1º novembre 2019 (archiviato il 1º novembre 2019). ^ Archivio dell'Opera di Santa Maria del Fiore, Libri dei battesimi: A dì 4 di detto maggio 1469 Niccolò Piero e Michele di m. Bernardo Machiavelli, p. di Santa Trinita, nacque a dì 3 a hore 4, battezzato a dì 4 ^ Dal Villani, nella sua Cronica ^ I Ricordi vanno dal 30 settembre 1474 al 19 agosto 1487 ^ In Discorsi di Architettura del senatore Giovan Battista Nelli, 1753 ^ La sua trascrizione del De rerum natura è nel manoscritto Vaticano Rossiano 884 ^ L. Canfora, Noi e gli antichi, Milano 2002, p. 16, 22, 121 ^ P. Giovio, Elogia clarorum virorum, 1546, 55v: «Constat [...] a Marcello Virgilio [...] graecae atque latinae linguae flores accepisse» ^ R. Ridolfi, cit., p. 45 ^ Lettera 11, ottobre 1499. ^ Riccardo Bruscagli, "Niccolò Machiavelli"(1975). ^ Il Senato romano fece distruggere Velletri e indebolì Anzio sottraendole la flotta: cfr. Livio, VIII, 13 ^ "La sua vicinanza a Pier Soderini, vexillifer perpetuus dal 1502, si accentua progressivamente in uno sforzo di sottrarre Firenze a un immobilismo indotto dal timore di un potere esecutivo più forte e irrispettoso di una lunga tradizione di libertà repubblicano-oligarchica": Grazzini, Filippo, Ante res perdita, post res perditas : dalle dediche del Decennale primo a quella del Principe, Interpres : rivista di studi quattrocenteschi : XXXIII, 2015, p. 170, Roma : Salerno, 2015. ^ Lettera dell'8 gennaio 1503 ^ È un'ipotesi del Ridolfi, cit., p. 115 ^ Discorsi sopra la prima Deca di Tito Livio, I, 27: «Giovanpagolo, il quale non stimava essere incesto e publico parricida, non seppe, o, a dir meglio, non ardì, avendone giusta occasione, fare una impresa, dove ciascuno avesse ammirato l'animo suo, e avesse di sé lasciato memoria eterna, sendo il primo che avesse dimostro a' prelati quanto sia poco uno che vive e regna come loro; ed avessi fatto una cosa, la cui grandezza avesse superato ogni infamia, ogni pericolo, che da quella potesse dependere» ^ Nella sua Storia d'Italia, il Guicciardini esprime lo stesso giudizio di Machiavelli ^ Ritratto delle cose della Magna, in «Tutte le opere storiche, politiche e letterarie, p. 442» ^ Lettera ai Dieci, 1º dicembre 1509 ^ Il carcere, la tortura e il ritiro all'Albergaccio, su viv-it.org. URL consultato il 16 novembre 2017 (archiviato il 16 novembre 2017). ^ Ottenendo un giudizio evasivo: cfr. la lettera del Vettori del 18 gennaio 1514 ^ Lettera a Francesco Vettori, 3 agosto 1514 ^ David Quint, Armi e nobiltà : Machiavelli, Guicciardini e le aristocrazie cittadine, Cadmo, Studi italiani. Anno XXI, N. 1, GEN.-GIU. 2009. ^ De credulitate et pietate; et an sit melius amari quam timeri, vel e contra.  Il machiavellismo, su dizionariostoria.wordpress.com. URL consultato il 20 novembre 2017 (archiviato il 1º dicembre 2017). ^ Machiavellismo, Treccani, su treccani.it. URL consultato il 20 novembre 2017 (archiviato il 1º dicembre 2017). ^ Citata in Niccolò Machiavelli, Periodici Mondadori, 1968 p.128 ^ A. Gentili, De legationibus, III, 2 ^ R. Pole, Apologia ad Carolum V Caesarem de Unitate Ecclesiae ^ che talvolta elogiarono però anche alcuni consigli pragmatici dati al principe, come quello della religione come instrumentum regnii; ad esempio Voltaire, nel capitolo Se sia utile mantenere il popolo nella superstizione, del Trattato sulla tolleranza, afferma l'utilità, entro certi limiti, di una forma di religione razionale per il popolo ^ La fortuna di Machiavelli nei secoli, su windoweb.it. URL consultato il 16 novembre 2015 (archiviato il 4 marzo 2016). ^ «Machiavelli era un uomo giusto e un buon cittadino; ma, essendo legato alla corte dei Medici, non poteva velare il proprio amore per la libertà nell'oppressione che imperava nel suo paese. La scelta di Cesare Borgia come proprio eroe, ben evidenziò il suo intento segreto; e la contraddizione insita negli insegnamenti del Principe e in quelli dei Discorsi e delle Istorie fiorentine ben dimostra quanto questo profondo pensatore politico è stata finora studiato solo dai lettori superficiali o corrotti. La Corte pontificia vietò severamente la diffusione di quest'opera. Ci credo ... in fondo, quanto scritto la ritrae fedelmente. (...) il libro dei repubblicani (...) fingendo di dare lezioni ai re, ne ha date di grandi ai popoli». (Jean Jacques Rousseau, Il contratto sociale, III, 6) ^ «Dal solo suo libro Del Principe si potrebbero qua e là ricavare alcune massime immorali e tiranniche, e queste dall'autore son messe in luce (a chi ben riflette) molto più per disvelare ai popoli le ambiziose ed avvedute crudeltà dei principi che non certamente per insegnare ai principi a praticarne... all'incontro, il Machiavelli nelle Storie, e nei Discorsi sopra Tito Livio, ad ogni sua parola e pensiero, respira libertà, giustizia, acume, verità, ed altezza d'animo somma, onde chiunque ben legge, e molto sente, e nell'autore s'immedesima, non può riuscire se non un fuocoso entusiasta di libertà, e un illuminatissimo amatore d'ogni politica virtù» (Del principe e delle lettere, II, 9) ^ «Con quel libro, se la sapessimo tutta, egli si pensò forse di pigliare, come si suol dire, due colombi ad una fava: presentando dall'un lato a' suoi Fiorentini come schietta e naturale una caricata e mostruosa immagine d'un sovrano assoluto, affinché si risolvessero a non averne mai alcuno; e cercando dall'altro di tirare insidiosamente i Medici a governarsi in guisa che s'avessero poi a snodolare il collo, seguendo i fraudolenti precetti da lui con molta adornezza sciorinati in quella sua dannata opera.» ^ G.M. Galanti, Elogio di N. Machiavelli cittadino e segretario fiorentino ^ Alessandro Arienzo, Gianfranco Borrelli, Anglo-American Faces of Machiavelli, 2009; pag. 364 ^ Voce "Machiavellismo" dell'Encyclopedie ^ Franco Ferrucci, Il teatro della fortuna: potere e destino in Machiavelli e Shakespeare, Fazi Editore, 2004; pag. 108 ^ Mario Pazzaglia, Note ai Sepolcri, in Antologia della letteratura italiana, vol I ^ cfr. l'inizio del Dialogo di Tristano e di un amico. ^ Introduzione a: Alfredo Oriani, Niccolò Machiavelli ^ http://www.repubblica.it/rubriche/la-parola/2012/06/24/news/realpolitik-37893071/ Archiviato il 2 febbraio 2014 in Internet Archive. Realpolitik ^ Video di Dario Fo che parla di Machiavelli (trasmissione tv Vieni via con me, su youtube.com. URL consultato il 9 dicembre 2014 (archiviato il 2 dicembre 2015). ^ Il Principe di Niccolò Machiavelli e il suo tempo. 1513-2013, Catalogo della mostra, Roma Istituto dell'Enciclopedia Italiana, 2013, pp. 470-95 La bibliografia su Machiavelli è sterminata. Tentativi di redigerla sono stati realizzati da Achille Norsa, Il principio della forza nel pensiero politico di Niccolò Machiavelli, seguito da un contributo bibliografico [1740‑1935], Milano 1936; Silvia Ruffo Fiore, Niccolò Machiavelli: an annotated bibliography of modern criticism and scholarship [1935‑88], New York‑Westport‑London 1990; Daria Perocco, Rassegna di studi sulle opere letterarie del Machiavelli (1969‑1986), in "Lettere italiane", XXXIX (1987), pp. 544‑579; Emanuele Cutinelli‑Rendina, Rassegna di studi sulle opere politiche e storiche di Niccolò Machiavelli (1969‑1992), in "Lettere italiane", XLVI (1994), pp. 123‑172. Nel 2014 l'Istituto della Enciclopedia Italiana Treccani ha pubblicato in 3 volumi l'opera Machiavelli: enciclopedia machiavelliana. Di seguito una selezione di studi dal 1970.  Monografie principali (dal 1970) Felix Gilbert, Machiavelli e la vita culturale del suo tempo, Bologna, Il mulino, 1972 Claude Lefort, Le travail de l'oeuvre Machiavel, Paris, Gallimard, 1972 Jean-Jacques Marchand, Niccolò Machiavelli. I primi scritti politici (1499-1512). Nascita di un pensiero e di uno stile, Padova, Antenore, 1975 Riccardo Bruscagli, Niccolò Machiavelli, Firenze, La Nuova Italia editrice, 1ª edizione: aprile 1975 Roberto Ridolfi, Vita di Niccolò Machiavelli, Firenze, Sansoni, 1978 (ultima ed.) Federico Chabod, Scritti su Machiavelli, Torino, Einaudi, 1980 (ultima ed.) John Greville Agard Pocock, Il momento machiavelliano: il pensiero politico fiorentino e la tradizione repubblicana anglosassone, Bologna, Il mulino, 1980 Carlo Dionisotti, Machiavellerie, Torino, Einaudi, 1980 Gennaro Sasso, Niccolo Machiavelli, vol. 1: Il pensiero politico; vol. 2: La storiografia, Bologna, Il Mulino, 1993 (1ª ed. Napoli 1958) Giuliano Procacci, Machiavelli nella cultura europea dell'età moderna, Roma-Bari, Laterza, 1995 Gennaro Sasso, Machiavelli e gli antichi e altri saggi, I-IV, Milano-Napoli, Ricciardi, 1987-97 Maurizio Viroli, Il sorriso di Niccolò, storia di Machiavelli, Roma-Bari, Laterza, 1998 Emanuele Cutinelli-Rendina, Chiesa e religione in Machiavelli, Pisa, Istituti editoriali e poligrafici internazionali, 1998 Ugo Dotti, Machiavelli rivoluzionario: vita e opere, Roma, Carocci, 2003 Francesco Bausi, Machiavelli, Roma, Salerno editrice, 2005 Giorgio Inglese, Per Machiavelli. L'arte dello stato, la cognizione delle storie, Roma, Carocci, 2006 Corrado Vivanti, Niccolò Machiavelli: i tempi della politica, Roma, Donzelli, 2008 Andrea Guidi, Un segretario militante. Politica, diplomazia e armi nel Cancelliere Machiavelli, Bologna, il Mulino, 2009 Gabriele Pedullà, Machiavelli in tumulto. Conquista, cittadinanza e conflitto nei 'Discorsi sopra la prima deca di Tito Livio', Roma, Bulzoni, 2011. William J. Connell, Machiavelli nel Rinascimento italiano, Milano, FrancoAngeli, 2016 Attilio Scuderi, Il libertino in fuga. Machiavelli e la genealogia di un modello culturale, Roma, Donzelli, 2018. Michele Ciliberto, Niccolò Machiavelli. Ragione e pazzia, Roma-Bari, Laterza, 2019. Altri contributi A. Montevecchi, Machiavelli, la vita, il pensiero, i testi esemplari, Milano 1972 E. Janni, Machiavelli, Milano 1989 S. Zen, Veritas ecclesiastica e Machiavelli, in Monarchia della verità. Modelli culturali e pedagogia della Controriforma, Napoli, Vivarium, 2002 (La Ricerca Umanistica, 4), pp. 73–111. Cosimo Scarcella, Machiavelli, Tacito, Grozio: un nesso "ideale" tra libertinismo e previchismo, in "Filosofia", Torino, Mursia, a. XLI, fasc. II, 1990. M. Gattoni, Clemente VII e la geo-politica dello Stato Pontificio (1523-1534), in Collectanea Archivi Vaticani(49), Città del Vaticano 2002 F. Raimondi, Machiavelli, in La politica e gli stati, Roma 2004 Pasquale Stoppelli, La Mandragola: storia e filologia. Roma, Bulzoni, 2005. Maria Cristina Figorilli, Machiavelli moralista. Ricerche su fonti, lessico e fortuna. Napoli, Liguori editore, 2006. A. Capata, Il lessico dell'esclusione. Tipologie di Virtù in Machiavelli', Manziana, 2008. Giuliano F. Commito, IUXTA PROPRIA PRINCIPIA - Libertà e giustizia nell'assolutismo moderno. Tra realismo e utopia, Aracne, Roma, 2009, ISBN 978-88-548-2831-5. Mascia Ferri, L'opinione pubblica e il sovrano in Machiavelli, in «The Lab's Quarterly»,n.2 aprile-giugno, Università di Pisa, 2008, pp. 420–433. Paweł Fiktus, Interpretacje virtu Niccolo Machiavellego w nauce polskiej, (w:) Wrocławskie Studia Erazmiańskie (Studia Erasmiana Wratislaviensia) red. Mirosław Sadowski, Piotr Szymaniec Wrocław 2008 r. Konstanty Grzybowski, Komentarz Niccolo Machiavelli, Książę, Warszawa, 1970 r. Giuseppe Leone, Silone e Machiavelli: una scuola... che non crea prìncipi, Centro Studi Silone, Pescina, 2003 Jan Malarczyk, U źródeł włoskiego realizmu politycznego. Machiavelli i Guicciardini, Lublin 1963 r. Antonina Kłoskowska, Machiavelli jako humanista na tle włoskiego Odrodzenia, Łódź, 1954 r. Marina Marietti, "Machiavelli l'eccezione fiorentina", Fiesole, Cadmo, 2005 Marina Marietti, Machiavel, Paris, Payot et Rivages, 2005 Enzo Sciacca, Principati e repubbliche. Machiavelli, le forme politiche e il pensiero francese del Cinquecento, Tep, Firenze 2005 Frédérique Verrier, Caterina Sforza et Machiavel ou l'origine du monde, Vecchiarelli, 2010, ISBN 88-8247-272-8. Emanuele Cutinelli-Rendina, Introduzione a Machiavelli, Roma-Bari, Laterza, 2013 (5ª ed.) Voci correlate Lettera a Francesco Vettori Letteratura italiana Francesco Guicciardini Teoria della ragion di Stato Istorie fiorentine Barbara Salutati Machiavellismo Altri progetti Collabora a Wikisource Wikisource contiene una pagina dedicata a Niccolò Machiavelli Collabora a Wikiquote Wikiquote contiene citazioni di o su Niccolò Machiavelli Collabora a Wikiversità Wikiversità contiene risorse su Niccolò Machiavelli Collabora a Wikimedia Commons Wikimedia Commons contiene immagini o altri file su Niccolò Machiavelli Collegamenti esterni Niccolò Machiavelli, su Treccani.it – Enciclopedie on line, Istituto dell'Enciclopedia Italiana. Modifica su Wikidata Niccolò Machiavelli, in Enciclopedia Italiana, Istituto dell'Enciclopedia Italiana. Modifica su Wikidata Niccolò Machiavelli, in Dizionario di storia, Istituto dell'Enciclopedia Italiana, 2010. Modifica su Wikidata (IT, DE, FR) Niccolò Machiavelli, su hls-dhs-dss.ch, Dizionario storico della Svizzera. Modifica su Wikidata (EN) Niccolò Machiavelli, su Enciclopedia Britannica, Encyclopædia Britannica, Inc. Modifica su Wikidata Niccolò Machiavelli, in Dizionario biografico degli italiani, Istituto dell'Enciclopedia Italiana. Modifica su Wikidata Niccolò Machiavelli, su BeWeb, Conferenza Episcopale Italiana. Modifica su Wikidata (EN) Niccolò Machiavelli, su Find a Grave. Modifica su Wikidata Opere di Niccolò Machiavelli, su Liber Liber. Modifica su Wikidata Opere di Niccolò Machiavelli / Niccolò Machiavelli (altra versione), su openMLOL, Horizons Unlimited srl. Modifica su Wikidata (EN) Opere di Niccolò Machiavelli, su Open Library, Internet Archive. Modifica su Wikidata (EN) Opere di Niccolò Machiavelli / Niccolò Machiavelli (altra versione) / Niccolò Machiavelli (altra versione) / Niccolò Machiavelli (altra versione), su Progetto Gutenberg. Modifica su Wikidata (EN) Audiolibri di Niccolò Machiavelli, su LibriVox. Modifica su Wikidata (EN) Bibliografia di Niccolò Machiavelli, su Internet Speculative Fiction Database, Al von Ruff. Modifica su Wikidata (EN) Niccolò Machiavelli, su Goodreads. Modifica su Wikidata Bibliografia italiana di Niccolò Machiavelli, su Catalogo Vegetti della letteratura fantastica, Fantascienza.com. Modifica su Wikidata (EN) Niccolò Machiavelli, in Catholic Encyclopedia, Robert Appleton Company. Modifica su Wikidata Niccolò Machiavelli, su Discografia nazionale della canzone italiana, Istituto centrale per i beni sonori ed audiovisivi. Modifica su Wikidata (EN) Niccolò Machiavelli, su Internet Movie Database, IMDb.com. Modifica su Wikidata (DE, EN) Niccolò Machiavelli, su filmportal.de. Modifica su Wikidata Antonio Enzo Quaglio, Machiavelli, Niccolò, in Enciclopedia dantesca, Istituto dell'Enciclopedia Italiana, 1970. Fabrizio Franceschini, Machiavelli, Niccolò, in Enciclopedia dell'italiano, Istituto dell'Enciclopedia Italiana, 2010-2011. il Principe, ediz. 1849 Istorie fiorentine, ediz. 1796 Le opere minori di Machiavelli, su machiavelli.letteraturaoperaomnia.org. Opere di Niccolò Machiavelli con giunta di un nuovo indice generale delle cose notabili, 9 voll., Milano, per Giovanni Silvestri, 1820-21: vol. 1, vol. 2, vol. 3, vol. 4, vol. 5, vol. 6, vol. 7, vol. 8, vol. 9. Rassegna bibliografica degli studi machiavelliani (2000-2014). Una ricognizione dei contributi scientifici dedicati al Machiavelli negli ultimi decenni Controllo di autorità                        VIAF (EN) 95151646 · ISNI (EN) 0000 0001 2144 1233 · SBN IT\ICCU\CFIV\019140 · Europeana agent/base/145346 · LCCN (EN) n78096105 · GND (DE) 118575775 · BNF (FR) cb119137957 (data) · BNE (ES) XX951763 (data) · ULAN (EN) 500208005 · NLA (EN) 35319152 · BAV (EN) 495/16125 · CERL cnp01878145 · NDL (EN, JA) 00448380 · WorldCat Identities (EN) lccn-n78096105 Biografie Portale Biografie Filosofia Portale Filosofia Italia Portale Italia Letteratura Portale Letteratura Politica Portale Politica Teatro Portale Teatro Categorie: Storici italiani del XV secoloStorici italiani del XVI secoloFilosofi italiani del XV secoloFilosofi italiani del XVI secoloScrittori italiani del XV secoloScrittori italiani del XVI secoloNati nel 1469Morti nel 1527Nati il 3 maggioMorti il 21 giugnoNati a FirenzeMorti a FirenzePolitici italiani del XV secoloPolitici italiani del XVI secoloMembri dell'Accademia neoplatonicaNiccolò MachiavelliMachiavelli (famiglia)Drammaturghi italianiDiplomatici italianiFilosofi della storiaSepolti nella basilica di Santa CroceFilosofi della politica[altre]. Refs.: Luigi Speranza, "Grice e Machiavelli," per il club anglo-italiano, The Swimming-Pool Library, Villa Grice, Liguria, Italia.

mctaggart: Irish philosopher, the leading British personal idealist. Aside from his childhood and two extended visits to New Zealand, McTaggart lived in Cambridge as a student and fellow of Trinity College. His influence on others at Trinity, including Russell and Moore, was at times great, but he had no permanent disciples. He began formulating and defending his views by critically examining Hegel. In Studies in the Hegelian Dialectic (1896) he argued that Hegel’s dialectic is valid but subjective, since the Absolute Idea Hegel used it to derive contains nothing corresponding to the dialectic. In Studies in Hegelian Cosmology (1901) he applied the dialectic to such topics as sin, punishment, God, and immortality. In his Commentary on Hegel’s Logic (1910) he concluded that the task of philosophy is to rethink the nature of reality using a method resembling Hegel’s dialectic. McTaggart attempted to do this in his major work, The Nature of Existence (two volumes, 1921 and 1927). In the first volume he tried to deduce the nature of reality from self-evident truths using only two empirical premises, that something exists and that it has parts. He argued that substances exist, that they are related to each other, that they have an infinite number of substances as parts, and that each substance has a sufficient description, one that applies only to it and not to any other substance. He then claimed that these conclusions are inconsistent unless the sufficient descriptions of substances entail the descriptions of their parts, a situation that requires substances to stand to their parts in the relation he called determining correspondence. In the second volume he applied these results to the empirical world, arguing that matter is unreal, since its parts cannot be determined by determining correspondence. In the most celebrated part of his philosophy, he argued that time is unreal by claiming that time presupposes a series of positions, each having the incompatible qualities of past, present, and future. He thought that attempts to remove the incompatibility generate a vicious infinite regress. From these and other considerations he concluded that selves are real, since their parts can be determined by determining correspondence, and that reality is a community of eternal, perceiving selves. He denied that there is an inclusive self or God in this community, but he affirmed that love between the selves unites the community producing a satisfaction beyond human understanding.

magnani – essential Italian philosopher, not to be confussed with Tenessee Williams’s favourite actress, Anna Magnani --. Lorenzo Magnani (Sannazzaro de' Burgondi, 14 luglio 1952) è un filosofo italiano.  Lorenzo Magnani.jpg È professore ordinario di Filosofia della scienza[1] presso la Sezione di Filosofia del Dipartimento di Studi Umanistici dell'Università di Pavia, dove dirige il Computational Philosophy Laboratory.[2] Dedicatosi allo studio della storia e della filosofia della geometria fin dagli studi universitari, i suoi interessi si sono poi rivolti all'analisi della tradizione neopositivista e postpositivista. Si è poi dedicato al tema della scoperta scientifica e del ragionamento creativo: soggiorni in USA presso la Carnegie Mellon University (1992) prima e poi presso la McGill University (1992, 1993) hanno favorito l'approfondimento di alcune tematiche riguardanti il ragionamento diagnostico in medicina in collegamento con il problema dell'abduzione, presto diventato fondamentale nella sua ricerca. A partire dal 1993, inizialmente in collaborazione con Nancy J. Nersessian e Paul Thagard, e grazie a soggiorni ed attività di insegnamento presso il Georgia Institute of Technology (1993, 1995, 1998-2001) di Atlanta e la University of Waterloo in Canada (1993) la sua attenzione si è anche indirizzata verso il cosiddetto model-based reasoning. Con Nancy J. Nersessain e Paul Thagard è stato fondatore coorganizzatore, a partire dal 1998, di una serie di conferenze sul Model-Based Reasoning (MBR)[3]. L'attività di Weissman Distinguished visiting professor presso il Baruch College della City University of New York ha favorito l'attenzione per i problemi di filosofia della tecnologia e di etica, recentemente rivolti anche al tema trascurato in filosofia dell'analisi della violenza.  I suoi interessi di ricerca includono dunque la filosofia della scienza, la logica, le scienze cognitive, l'intelligenza artificiale e la filosofia della medicina, nonché i rapporti fra etica e tecnologia e tra etica e violenza. Ha contribuito a diffondere a livello internazionale il problema dell'abduzione con il suo primo libro sul tema dal titolo Abduction in Reason and Science. La sua ricerca storico-scientifica ha riguardato principalmente la geometria e la filosofia della geometria del XIX e XX secolo. È stato (2006-2012) visiting professor presso la Sun Yat-sen University in Cina[4]. Ha diretto e dirige vari programmi di ricerca accademici internazionali in collaboratione con USA, EU, e Cina. L'Università Ştefan cel Mare di Suceava, Romania ha conferito a Lorenzo Magnani la Laurea honoris causa[5] Lorenzo Magnani dirige la Collana di Libri SAPERE - Studies in Applied Philosophy, Epistemology and Rational Ethics, Springer Science+Business Media.[6]. Citazioni e giudizi critici sul suo lavoro sono riportati dalla Stanford Enciclopedia of Philosophy alle voci: Models in Science, Scientific Discovery, Information Technology and Moral Values. Nel 2015 è stato nominato membro della International Academy for the Philosophy of the Sciences (AIPS)[7]. Opere (elenco parziale) In italiano Conoscenza come dovere. Moralità distribuita in un mondo tecnologico (2006) Filosofia della violenza (2012) Rispetta gli altri come cose (2013); In inglese Abduction, Reason, and Science. Processes of Discovery and Explanation (Kluwer Academic/Plenum Publishers, New York, 2001). Edizione cinese [意] 洛伦佐•玛格纳尼 / 著；李大超，任远 / 译，《溯因、理由与科学——发现和解释的过程》，中国广州：广东人民出版社2006年, 2006;[8]; Philosophy and Geometry. Theoretical and Historical Issues (Kluwer, Dordrecht, 2001);[9] Morality in a Technological World. Knowledge as a Duty (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 2007) sviluppa una teoria filosofica dei rapporti fra tecnologia ed etica in una prospettiva naturalistica e cognitiva.[10] Abductive Cognition. The Epistemological and Eco-Cognitive Dimensions of Hypothetical Reasoning (Springer Science+Business Media, Heidelberg/Berlin, 2009);[11] Understanding Violence. The Intertwining of Morality, Religion, and Violence: A Philosophical Stance (Springer Science+Business Media, Heidelberg/Berlin, 2011).[12] The Abductive Structure of Scientific Creativity. An Essay on the Ecology of Cognition (Springer Science+Business Media, Cham, Switzerland, 2017).[13] Libri collettivi, numeri speciali di riviste e libri in cinese Ha curato libri in cinese[14], atti di convegni, libri collettivi e numerosi numeri speciali di riviste accademiche internazionali. In collaborazione con T. Bertolotti ha curato il volume Handbook of Model-Based Science presso l'editore Springer, Switzerland, 2017.[15]  Note ^ Web Page del Dipartimento di Studi Umanistici ^ Computational Philosophy Laboratory Web Site ^ [Cfr. le varie pagine dedicate a questi convegni in http://www-3.unipv.it/webphilos_lab/cpl/index.php Computational Philosophy Laboratory], Dipartimento di Studi Umanistici, Sezione di Filosofia, Università di Pavia, Pavia (Italia)] ^ Sun Yat-sen Award 2010 ^ Cerimonia ^ Book Series SAPERE Web Page ^ Copia archiviata, su lesacademies.org. URL consultato il 25 settembre 2015 (archiviato dall'url originale il 26 settembre 2015). ^ [1]; Edizione cinese: [2] ^ Philosophy and Geometry ^ Morality in a Technological World - Academic and Professional Books - Cambridge University Press ^ Abductive Cognition ^ Understanding Violence ^ The Abductive Structure of Scientific Creativity ^ Author Web Page ^ Handbook of Model-Based Science Collegamenti esterni Lorenzo Magnani: Logica e possibilità, su RAI Filosofia, su filosofia.rai.it. Lorenzo Magnani: Filosofia della violenza, su RAI Filosofia, su filosofia.rai.it. Controllo di autorità VIAF (EN) 76389740 · ISNI (EN) 0000 0000 8156 3980 · SBN IT\ICCU\CFIV\109141 · LCCN (EN) n85811995 · BNF (FR) cb12340770w (data) · WorldCat Identities (EN) lccn-n85811995 Biografie Portale Biografie Filosofia Portale Filosofia Categorie: Filosofi italiani del XXI secoloNati nel 1952Nati il 14 luglioNati a Sannazzaro de' BurgondiStudenti dell'Università degli Studi di Pavia[altre]. Refs. Luigi Speranza, "Grice e Magnani," per il Club Anglo-Italiano -- The Swimming-Pool Library, Villa Grice, Liguria, Italia.

magnitude, extent or size of a thing with respect to some attribute; technically, a quantity or dimension. A quantity is an attribute that admits of several or an infinite number of degrees, in contrast to a quality (e.g., triangularity), which an object either has or does not have. Measurement is assignment of numbers to objects in such a way that these numbers correspond to the degree or amount of some quantity possessed by their objects. The theory of measurement investigates the conditions for, and uniqueness of, such numerical assignments. Let D be a domain of objects (e.g., a set of physical bodies) and L be a relation on this domain; i.e., Lab may mean that if a and b are put on opposite pans of a balance, the pan with a does not rest lower than the other pan. Let ; be the operation of weighing two objects together in the same pan of a balance. We then have an empirical relational system E % ‹ D, L, ; (. One can prove that, if E satisfies specified conditions, then there exists a measurement function mapping D to a set Num of real numbers, in such a way that the L and ; relations between objects in D correspond to the m and ! relations between their numerical values. Such an existence theorem for a measurement function from an empirical relational system E to a numerical relational system, N % ‹ Num, m ! (, is called a representation theorem. Measurement functions are not unique, but a uniqueness theorem characterizes all such functions for a specified kind of empirical relational system and specified type of numerical image. For example, suppose that for any measurement functions f, g for E there exists real number a ( 0 such that for any x in D, f(x) % ag(x). Then it is said that the measurement is on a ratio scale, and the function s(x) % ax, for x in the real numbers, is the scale transformation. For some empirical systems, one can prove that any two measurement functions are related by f % ag ! b, where a ( 0 and b are real numbers. Then the measurement is on an interval scale, with the scale transformation s(x) % ax ! b; e.g., measurement of temperature without an absolute zero is on an interval scale. In addition to ratio and interval scales, other scale types are defined in terms of various scale transformations; many relational systems have been mathematically analyzed for possible applications in the behavioral sciences. Measurement with weak scale types may provide only an ordering of the objects, so quantitative measurement and comparative orderings can be treated by the same general methods. The older literature on measurement often distinguishes extensive from intensive magnitudes. In the former case, there is supposed to be an empirical operation (like ; above) that in some sense directly corresponds to addition on numbers. An intensive magnitude supposedly has no such empirical operation. It is sometimes claimed that genuine quantities must be extensive, whereas an intensive magnitude is a quality. This extensive versus intensive distinction (and its use in distinguishing quantities from qualities) is imprecise and has been supplanted by the theory of scale types sketched above.

mansel: philosopher, a prominent defender of Scottish common sense philosophy. Mansel was the Waynflete professor of metaphysical philosophy and ecclesiastical history at Oxford, and the dean of St. Paul’s. Much of his philosophy was derived from Kant as interpreted by Hamilton. In “Prolegomena Logica,” Mansel defines logic as the science of the laws of thought, while in “Metaphysics,” he argues that human faculties are not suited to know the ultimate nature of things. He drew the religious implications of these views in his most influential work, The Limits of Religious Thought, by arguing that God is rationally inconceivable and that the only available conception of God is an analogical one derived from revelation. From this he concluded that religious dogma is immune from rational criticism. In the ensuing controversy Mansel was criticized by Spenser, Thomas Henry Huxley, and J. S. Mill.

PLURI-VALUED/UNI-VALUE LOGIC -- many-valued logic, a logic that rejects the principle of bivalence: every proposition is true or false. However, there are two forms of rejection: the truth-functional mode (many-valued logic proper), where propositions may take many values beyond simple truth and falsity, values functionally determined by the values of their components; and the truth-value gap mode, in which the only values are truth and falsity, but propositions may have neither. What value they do or do not have is not determined by the values or lack of values of their constituents. Many-valued logic has its origins in the work of Lukasiewicz and (independently) Post around 1920, in the first development of truth tables and semantic methods. Lukasiewicz’s philosophical motivation for his three-valued calculus was to deal with propositions whose truth-value was open or “possible” – e.g., propositions about the future. He proposed they might take a third value. Let 1 represent truth, 0 falsity, and the third value be, say, ½. We take Ý (not) and P (implication) as primitive, letting v(ÝA) % 1 † v(A) and v(A P B) % min(1,1 † v(A)!v(B)). These valuations may be displayed: Lukasiewicz generalized the idea in 1922, to allow first any finite number of values, and finally infinitely, even continuum-many values (between 0 and 1). One can then no longer represent the functionality by a matrix; however, the formulas given above can still be applied. Wajsberg axiomatized Lukasiewicz’s calculus in 1931. In 1953 Lukasiewicz published a four-valued extensional modal logic. In 1921, Post presented an m-valued calculus, with values 0 (truth), . . . , m † 1 (falsity), and matrices defined on Ý and v (or): v(ÝA) % 1 ! v(A) (modulo m) and v(AvB) % min (v(A),v(B)). Translating this for comparison into the same framework as above, we obtain the matrices (with 1 for truth and 0 for falsity): The strange cyclic character of Ý makes Post’s system difficult to interpret – though he did give one in terms of sequences of classical propositions. A different motivation led to a system with three values developed by Bochvar in 1939, namely, to find a solution to the logical paradoxes. (Lukasiewicz had noted that his three-valued system was free of antinomies.) The third value is indeterminate (so arguably Bochvar’s system is actually one of gaps), and any combination of values one of which is indeterminate is indeterminate; otherwise, on the determinate values, the matrices are classical. Thus we obtain for Ý and P, using 1, ½, and 0 as above: In order to develop a logic of many values, one needs to characterize the notion of a thesis, or logical truth. The standard way to do this in manyvalued logic is to separate the values into designated and undesignated. Effectively, this is to reintroduce bivalence, now in the form: Every proposition is either designated or undesignated. Thus in Lukasiewicz’s scheme, 1 (truth) is the only designated value; in Post’s, any initial segment 0, . . . , n † 1, where n‹m (0 as truth). In general, one can think of the various designated values as types of truth, or ways a proposition may be true, and the undesignated ones as ways it can be false. Then a proposition is a thesis if and only if it takes only designated values. For example, p P p is, but p 7 Ýp is not, a Lukasiewicz thesis. However, certain matrices may generate no logical truths by this method, e.g., the Bochvar matrices give ½ for every formula any of whose variables is indeterminate. If both 1 and ½ were designated, all theses of classical logic would be theses; if only 1, no theses result. So the distinction from classical logic is lost. Bochvar’s solution was to add an external assertion and negation. But this in turn runs the risk of undercutting the whole philosophical motivation, if the external negation is used in a Russell-type paradox. One alternative is to concentrate on consequence: A is a consequence of a set of formulas X if for every assignment of values either no member of X is designated or A is. Bochvar’s consequence relation (with only 1 designated) results from restricting classical consequence so that every variable in A occurs in some member of X. There is little technical difficulty in extending many-valued logic to the logic of predicates and quantifiers. For example, in Lukasiewicz’s logic, v(E xA) % min {v(A(a/x)): a 1. D}, where D is, say, some set of constants whose assignments exhaust the domain. This interprets the universal quantifier as an “infinite” conjunction. In 1965, Zadeh introduced the idea of fuzzy sets, whose membership relation allows indeterminacies: it is a function into the unit interval [0,1], where 1 means definitely in, 0 definitely out. One philosophical application is to the sorites paradox, that of the heap. Instead of insisting that there be a sharp cutoff in number of grains between a heap and a non-heap, or between red and, say, yellow, one can introduce a spectrum of indeterminacy, as definite applications of a concept shade off into less clear ones. Nonetheless, many have found the idea of assigning further definite values, beyond truth and falsity, unintuitive, and have instead looked to develop a scheme that encompasses truthvalue gaps. One application of this idea is found in Kleene’s strong and weak matrices of 1938. Kleene’s motivation was to develop a logic of partial functions. For certain arguments, these give no definite value; but the function may later be extended so that in such cases a definite value is given. Kleene’s constraint, therefore, was that the matrices be regular: no combination is given a definite value that might later be changed; moreover, on the definite values the matrices must be classical. The weak matrices are as for Bochvar. The strong matrices yield (1 for truth, 0 for falsity, and u for indeterminacy): An alternative approach to truth-value gaps was presented by Bas van Fraassen in the 1960s. Suppose v(A) is undefined if v(B) is undefined for any subformula B of A. Let a classical extension of a truth-value assignment v be any assignment that matches v on 0 and 1 and assigns either 0 or 1 whenever v assigns no value. Then we can define a supervaluation w over v: w(A) % 1 if the value of A on all classical extensions of v is 1, 0 if it is 0 and undefined otherwise. A is valid if w(A) % 1 for all supervaluations w (over arbitrary valuations). By this method, excluded middle, e.g., comes out valid, since it takes 1 in all classical extensions of any partial valuation. Van Fraassen presented several applications of the supervaluation technique. One is to free logic, logic in which empty terms are admitted. .

marc’aurelio: Italian philosopher – one of the most important ones – Vide his letters to his tutor Frontino -- Marcus Aurelius, Roman emperor (from 161) and philosopher. Author of twelve books of Meditations (Greek title, To Himself), Marcus Aurelius is principally interesting in the history of Stoic philosophy (of which he was a diligent student) for his ethical self-portrait. Except for the first book, detailing his gratitude to his family, friends, and teachers, the aphorisms are arranged in no order; many were written in camp during military campaigns. They reflect both the Old Stoa and the more eclectic views of Posidonius, with whom he holds that involvement in public affairs is a moral duty. Marcus, in accord with Stoicism, considers immortality doubtful; happiness lies in patient acceptance of the will of the panentheistic Stoic God, the material soul of a material universe. Anger, like all emotions, is forbidden the Stoic emperor: he exhorts himself to compassion for the weak and evil among his subjects. “Do not be turned into ‘Caesar,’ or dyed by the purple: for that happens” (6.30). “It is the privilege of a human being to love even those who stumble” (7.22). Sayings like these, rather than technical arguments, give the book its place in literary history. Refs.: Luigi Speranza, "Grice, Marc'Aurelio e Frontino,” per il Club Anglo-Italiano, The Swimming-Pool Library, Villa Grice, Liguria, Italia.

marrameo: essential Italian philosopher -- Luigi Speranza, "Grice e Marrameo," The Swimming-Pool Library, Villa Grice, Liguria, Italia.

marsilius: of Inghen -- not to be confused with Mainardini, or Marsilius (Marsilio) of Padua (Padova),  philosopher, born near Nijmegen, Marsilius studied under Buridan, taught at Paris, then moved to the newly founded ‘studium generale’ at Heidelberg, where he and Albert of Saxony established nominalism in Germany. In logic, he produced an Ockhamist revision of the Tractatus of Peter of Spain, often published as Textus dialectices in early sixteenthcentury Germany, and a commentary on Aristotle’s Prior Analytics. He developed Buridan’s theory of impetus in his own way, accepted Bradwardine’s account of the proportions of velocities, and adopted Nicholas of Oresme’s doctrine of intension and remission of forms, applying the new physics in his commentaries on Aristotle’s physical works. In theology he followed Ockham’s skeptical emphasis on faith, allowing that one might prove the existence of God along Scotistic lines, but insisting that, since natural philosophy could not accommodate the creation of the universe ex nihilo, God’s omnipotence was known only through faith.

mainardini – marsilio di padova -- Marsilius of Padua, in Italian, Marsilio dei Mainardini (1275/80–1342), Italian political theorist. He served as rector of the University of Paris between 1312 and 1313; his anti-papal views forced him to flee Paris (1326) for Nuremberg, where he was political and ecclesiastic adviser of Louis of Bavaria. His major work, Defensor pacis (“Defender of Peace,” 1324), attacks the doctrine of the supremacy of the pope and argues that the authority of a secular ruler elected to represent the people is superior to the authority of the papacy and priesthood in both temporal and spiritual affairs. Three basic claims of Marsilius’s theory are that reason, not instinct or God, allows us to know what is just and conduces to the flourishing of human society; that governments need to enforce obedience to the laws by coercive measures; and that political power ultimately resides in the people. He was influenced by Aristotle’s ideal of the state as necessary to foster human flourishing. His thought is regarded as a major step in the history of political philosophy and one of the first defenses of republicanism. -- marsilio: essential Italian philosopher. Refs.: Luigi Speranza, "Grice e Marsilio," per il Club Anglo-Italiano, The Swimming-Pool Library, Villa Grice, Liguria, Italia.

martineau: English philosopher of religion and ethical intuitionist. As a minister and a professor, Martineau defended Unitarianism and opposed pantheism. In A Study of Religion Martineau agreed with Kant that reality as we experience it is the work of the mind, but he saw no reason to doubt his intuitive conviction that the phenomenal world corresponds to a real world of enduring, causally related objects. He believed that the only intelligible notion of causation is given by willing and concluded that reality is the expression of a divine will that is also the source of moral authority. In Types of Ethical Theory he claimed that the fundamental fact of ethics is the human tendency to approve and disapprove of the motives leading to voluntary actions, actions in which there are two motives present to consciousness. After freely choosing one of the motives, the agent can determine which action best expresses it. Since Martineau thought that agents intuitively know through conscience which motive is higher, the core of his ethical theory is a ranking of the thirteen principal motives, the highest of which is reverence.

materia-forma distinction, the -- forma: ideatum – Cicero was a bit at a loss when trying to translate the Greek eidos or idea. For ‘eidos’ he had forma, but the Romans seemed to have liked the sound of ‘idea,’ and Martianus Capella even coined ‘ideal,’ which Kant and Grice later used. idea, in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, whatever is immediately before the mind when one thinks. The notion of thinking was taken in a very broad sense; it included perception, memory, and imagination, in addition to thinking narrowly construed. In connection with perception, ideas were often (though not always – Berkeley is the exception) held to be representational images, i.e., images of something. In other contexts, ideas were taken to be concepts, such as the concept of a horse or of an infinite quantity, though concepts of these sorts certainly do not appear to be images. An innate idea was either a concept or a general truth, such as ‘Equals added to equals yield equals’, that was allegedly not learned but was in some sense always in the mind. Sometimes, as in Descartes, innate ideas were taken to be cognitive capacities rather than concepts or general truths, but these capacities, too, were held to be inborn. An adventitious idea, either an image or a concept, was an idea accompanied by a judgment concerning the non-mental cause of that idea. So, a visual image was an adventitious idea provided one judged of that idea that it was caused by something outside one’s mind, presumably by the object being seen. From Idea Alston coined ‘ideationalism’ to refer to Grice’s theory. “Grice’s is an ideationalist theory of meaning, drawn from Locke.”Alston calls Grice an ideationalist, and Grice takes it as a term of abuse. Grice would occasionally use ‘mental.’ Short and Lewis have "mens.” “terra corpus est, at mentis ignis est;” so too, “istic est de sole sumptus; isque totus mentis est;”  f. from the root ‘men,’ whence ‘memini,’  and ‘comminiscor.’ Lewis and Short render ‘mens’ as ‘the mind, disposition; the heart, soul.’ Lewis and Short have ‘commĭniscor,’ originally conminiscor ), mentus, from ‘miniscor,’ whence also ‘reminiscor,’ stem ‘men,’ whence ‘mens’ and ‘memini,’  cf. Varro, Lingua Latina 6, § 44. Lewis and Short render the verb as, literally, ‘to ponder carefully, to reflect upon;’ ‘hence, as a result of reflection; cf. 1. commentor, II.), to devise something by careful thought, to contrive, invent, feign. Myro is perhaps unaware of the implicatura of ‘mental’ when he qualifies his -ism with ‘modest.’ Grice would seldom use mind (Grecian nous) or mental (Grecian noetikos vs. æsthetikos). His sympathies go for more over-arching Grecian terms like the very Aristotelian soul, the anima, i. e. the psyche and the psychological. Grice discusses G. Myro’s essay, ‘In defence of a modal mentalism,’ with attending commentary by R. Albritton and S. Cavell. Grice himself would hardly use mental, mentalist, or mentalism himself, but perhaps psychologism. Grice would use mental, on occasion, but his Grecianism was deeply rooted, unlike Myro’s. At Clifton and under Hardie (let us recall he came up to Oxford under a classics scholarship to enrol in the Lit. Hum.) he knows that mental translates mentalis translates nous, only ONE part, one third, actually, of the soul, and even then it may not include the ‘practical rational’ one! Cf. below on ‘telementational.’  formalism: Cicero’s translation for ‘idealism,’ or ideism -- the philosophical doctrine that reality is somehow mind-correlative or mind-coordinated – that the real objects constituting the “external world” are not independent of cognizing minds, but exist only as in some way correlative to mental operations. The doctrine centers on the conception that reality as we understand it reflects the workings of mind. Perhaps its most radical version is the ancient Oriental spiritualistic or panpsychistic idea, renewed in Christian Science, that minds and their thoughts are all there is – that reality is simply the sum total of the visions (or dreams?) of one or more minds. A dispute has long raged within the idealist camp over whether “the mind” at issue in such idealistic formulas was a mind emplaced outside of or behind nature (absolute idealism), or a nature-pervasive power of rationality of some sort (cosmic idealism), or the collective impersonal social mind of people in general (social idealism), or simply the distributive collection of individual minds (personal idealism). Over the years, the less grandiose versions of the theory came increasingly to the fore, and in recent times virtually all idealists have construed “the minds” at issue in their theory as separate individual minds equipped with socially engendered resources. There are certainly versions of idealism short of the spiritualistic position of an ontological idealism that (as Kant puts it at Prolegomena, section 13, n. 2) holds that “there are none but thinking beings.” Idealism need certainly not go so far as to affirm that mind makes or constitutes matter; it is quite enough to maintain (e.g.) that all of the characterizing properties of physical existents resemble phenomenal sensory properties in representing dispositions to affect mind-endowed creatures in a certain sort of way, so that these properties have no standing without reference to minds. Weaker still is an explanatory idealism which merely holds that an adequate explanation of the real always requires some recourse to the operations of mind. Historically, positions of the generally idealistic type have been espoused by numerous thinkers. For example, Berkeley maintained that “to be [real] is to be perceived” (esse est percipi). And while this does not seem particularly plausible because of its inherent commitment to omniscience, it seems more sensible to adopt “to be is to be perceivable” (esse est percipile esse). For Berkeley, of course, this was a distinction without a difference: if something is perceivable at all, then God perceives it. But if we forgo philosophical reliance on God, the matter looks different, and pivots on the question of what is perceivable for perceivers who are physically realizable in “the real world,” so that physical existence could be seen – not so implausibly – as tantamount to observability-in-principle. The three positions to the effect that real things just exactly are things as philosophy or as science or as “common sense” takes them to be – positions generally designated as Scholastic, scientific, and naive realism, respectively – are in fact versions of epistemic idealism exactly because they see reals as inherently knowable and do not contemplate mind-transcendence for the real. Thus, the thesis of naive (“commonsense”) realism that ‘External things exist exactly as we know them’ sounds realistic or idealistic according as one stresses the first three words of the dictum or the last four. Any theory of natural teleology that regards the real as explicable in terms of value could to this extent be counted as idealistic, in that valuing is by nature a mental process. To be sure, the good of a creature or species of creatures (e.g., their well-being or survival) need not be something mind-represented. But nevertheless, goods count as such precisely because if the creatures at issue could think about it, they would adopt them as purposes. It is this circumstance that renders any sort of teleological explanation at least conceptually idealistic in nature. Doctrines of this sort have been the stock-in-trade of philosophy from the days of Plato (think of the Socrates of the Phaedo) to those of Leibniz, with his insistence that the real world must be the best possible. And this line of thought has recently surfaced once more in the controversial “anthropic principle” espoused by some theoretical physicists. Then too it is possible to contemplate a position along the lines envisioned in Fichte’s Wissenschaftslehre (The Science of Knowledge), which sees the ideal as providing the determining factor for the real. On such a view, the real is not characterized by the science we actually have but by the ideal science that is the telos of our scientific efforts. On this approach, which Wilhelm Wundt characterized as “ideal-realism” (Idealrealismus; see his Logik, vol. 1, 2d ed., 1895), the knowledge that achieves adequation to the real idea, clear and distinct idealism (adaequatio ad rem) by adequately characterizing the true facts in scientific matters is not the knowledge actually afforded by present-day science, but only that of an ideal or perfected science. Over the years, many objections to idealism have been advanced. Samuel Johnson thought to refute Berkeley’s phenomenalism by kicking a stone. He conveniently forgot that Berkeley goes to great lengths to provide for stones – even to the point of invoking the aid of God on their behalf. Moore pointed to the human hand as an undeniably mind-external material object. He overlooked that, gesticulate as he would, he would do no more than induce people to accept the presence of a hand on the basis of the handorientation of their experience. Peirce’s “Harvard Experiment” of letting go of a stone held aloft was supposed to establish Scholastic realism because his audience could not control their expectation of the stone’s falling to earth. But an uncontrollable expectation is still an expectation, and the realism at issue is no more than a realistic thought-exposure. Kant’s famous “Refutation of Idealism” argues that our conception of ourselves as mindendowed beings presupposes material objects because we view our mind-endowed selves as existing in an objective temporal order, and such an order requires the existence of periodic physical processes (clocks, pendula, planetary regularities) for its establishment. At most, however, this argument succeeds in showing that such physical processes have to be assumed by minds, the issue of their actual mind-independent existence remaining unaddressed. (Kantian realism is an intraexperiential “empirical” realism.) It is sometimes said that idealism confuses objects with our knowledge of them and conflates the real with our thought about it. But this charge misses the point. The only reality with which we inquirers can have any cognitive commerce is reality as we conceive it to be. Our only information about reality is via the operation of mind – our only cognitive access to reality is through the mediation of mind-devised models of it. Perhaps the most common objection to idealism turns on the supposed mind-independence of the real: “Surely things in nature would remain substantially unchanged if there were no minds.” This is perfectly plausible in one sense, namely the causal one – which is why causal idealism has its problems. But it is certainly not true conceptually. The objector has to specify just exactly what would remain the same. “Surely roses would smell just as sweet in a minddenuded world!” Well . . . yes and no. To be sure, the absence of minds would not change roses. But roses and rose fragrance and sweetness – and even the size of roses – are all factors whose determination hinges on such mental operations as smelling, scanning, measuring, and the like. Mind-requiring processes are needed for something in the world to be discriminated as a rose and determined to bear certain features. Identification, classification, property attribution are all required and by their very nature are all mental operations. To be sure, the role of mind is here hypothetical. (“If certain interactions with duly constituted observers took place, then certain outcomes would be noted.”) But the fact remains that nothing could be discriminated or characterized as a rose in a context where the prospect of performing suitable mental operations (measuring, smelling, etc.) is not presupposed. Perhaps the strongest argument favoring idealism is that any characterization of the real that we can devise is bound to be a mind-constructed one: our only access to information about what the real is is through the mediation of mind. What seems right about idealism is inherent in the fact that in investigating the real we are clearly constrained to use our own concepts to address our own issues – that we can learn about the real only in our own terms of reference. But what seems right about realism is that the answers to the questions we put to the real are provided by reality itself – whatever the answers may be, they are substantially what they are because it is reality itself that determines them to be that way. -- idealism, Critical. . materia et forma. Materia-forma distinction, the: One of Grice’s twelve labours is against Materialism -- Cicero’s translation of hyle, ancient Greek term for matter. Aristotle brought the word into use in philosophy by contrast with the term for form, and as designating one of the four causes. By hyle Aristotle usually means ‘that out of which something has been made’, but he can also mean by it ‘that which has form’. In Aristotelian philosophy hyle is sometimes also identified with potentiality and with substrate. Neoplatonists identified hyle with the receptacle of Plato. Materia-forma distinction, the forma: Grice always found ‘logical form’ redundant (“Surely we are not into ‘matter’ – that would be cheap!”) – “‘materia-forma’ is the unity, as the Grecians well knew.”- hylomorphism, the doctrine, first taught by Aristotle, that concrete substance consists of form in matter (hyle). The details of this theory are explored in the central books of Aristotle’s Metaphysics (Zeta, Eta, and Theta).  Materia-forma distinction, the. Then there’s hylozoism: from Greek hyle, ‘matter’, and zoe, ‘life’), the doctrine that matter is intrinsically alive, or that all bodies, from the world as a whole down to the smallest corpuscle, have some degree or some kind of life. It differs from panpsychism though the distinction is sometimes blurred – in upholding the universal presence of life per se, rather than of soul or of psychic attributes. Inasmuch as it may also hold that there are no living entities not constituted of matter, hylozoism is often criticized by theistic philosophers as a form of atheism. The term was introduced polemically by Ralph Cudworth, the seventeenth-century Cambridge Platonist, to help define a position that is significantly in contrast to soul–body dualism (Pythagoras, Plato, Descartes), reductive materialism (Democritus, Hobbes), and Aristotelian hylomorphism. So understood, hylozoism had many advocates in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, among both scientists and naturalistically minded philosophers. In the twentieth century, the term has come to be used, rather unhelpfully, to characterize the animistic and naive-vitalist views of the early Greek philosophers, especially Thales, Anaximenes, Heraclitus, and Empedocles – who could hardly count as hylozoists in Cudworth’s sophisticated sense. If anything characterizes ‘analytic’ philosophy, then it is presumably the emphasis placed on analysis. But as history shows, there is a wide range of conceptions of analysis, so such a characterization says nothing that would distinguish analytic philosophy from much of what has either preceded or developed alongside it. Given that the decompositional conception is usually offered as the main conception, it might be thought that it is this that characterizes analytic philosophy, even Oxonian 'informalists' like Strawson.But this conception was prevalent in the early modern period, shared by both the British Empiricists and Leibniz, for example. Given that Kant denied the importance of de-compositional analysis, however, it might be suggested that what characterizes analytic philosophy is the value it places on such analysis. This might be true of G. E. Moore's early work, and of one strand within analytic philosophy; but it is not generally true. What characterizes analytic philosophy as it was founded by Frege and Russell is the role played by logical analysis, which depended on the development of modern logic. Although other and subsequent forms of analysis, such as 'linguistic' analysis, were less wedded to systems of FORMAL logic, the central insight motivating logical analysis remained.  Pappus's account of method in ancient Greek geometry suggests that the regressive conception of analysis was dominant at the time — however much other conceptions may also have been implicitly involved.In the early modern period, the decompositional conception became widespread.What characterizes analytic philosophy—or at least that central strand that originates in the work of Frege and Russell—is the recognition of what was called earlier the transformative or interpretive dimension of analysis.Any analysis presupposes a particular framework of interpretation, and work is done in interpreting what we are seeking to analyze as part of the process of regression and decomposition. This may involve transforming it in some way, in order for the resources of a given theory or conceptual framework to be brought to bear. Euclidean geometry provides a good illustration of this. But it is even more obvious in the case of analytic geometry, where the geometrical problem is first ‘translated’ into the language of algebra and arithmetic in order to solve it more easily.What Descartes and Fermat did for analytic geometry, Frege and Russell did for analytic PHILOSOPHY. Analytic philosophy is ‘analytic’ much more in the way that analytic geometry (as Fermat's and Descartes's) is ‘analytic’ than in the crude decompositional sense that Kant understood it.  The interpretive dimension of philosophical analysis can also be seen as anticipated in medieval scholasticism and it is remarkable just how much of modern concerns with propositions, meaning, reference, and so on, can be found in the medieval literature. Interpretive analysis is also illustrated in the nineteenth century by Bentham's conception of paraphrasis, which he characterized as "that sort of exposition which may be afforded by transmuting into a proposition, having for its subject some real entity, a proposition which has not for its subject any other than a fictitious entity." Bentham, a palaeo-Griceian, applies the idea in ‘analyzing away’ talk of ‘obligations’, and the anticipation that we can see here of Russell's theory of descriptions has been noted by, among others, Wisdom and Quine in ‘Five Milestones of Empiricism.'vide: Wisdom on Bentham as palaeo-Griceian.What was crucial in analytic philosophy, however, was the development of quantificational theory, which provided a far more powerful interpretive system than anything that had hitherto been available. In the case of Frege and Russell, the system into which statements were ‘translated’ was predicate calculus, and the divergence that was thereby opened up between the 'matter' and the logical 'form' meant that the process of 'translation' (or logical construction or deconstruction) itself became an issue of philosophical concern. This induced greater self-consciousness about our use of language and its potential to mislead us (the infamous implicaturums, which are neither matter nor form -- they are IMPLICATED matter, and the philosopher may want to arrive at some IMPLICATED form -- as 'the'), and inevitably raised semantic, epistemological and metaphysical questions about the relationships between language, logic, thought and reality which have been at the core of analytic philosophy ever since.  Both Frege and Russell (after the latter's initial flirtation with then fashionable Hegelian Oxonian idealism -- "We were all Hegelians then") were concerned to show, against Kant, that arithmetic (or number theory, from Greek 'arithmos,' number -- if not geometry) is a system of analytic and not synthetic truths, as Kant misthought. In the Grundlagen, Frege offers a revised conception of analyticity, which arguably endorses and generalizes Kant's logical as opposed to phenomenological criterion, i.e., (ANL) rather than (ANO) (see the supplementary section on Kant):  (AN) A truth is analytic if its proof depends only on general logical laws and definitions. The question of whether arithmetical truths are analytic then comes down to the question of whether they can be derived purely logically. This was the failure of Ramsey's logicist project.Here we already have ‘transformation’, at the theoretical level — involving a reinterpretation of the concept of analyticity.To demonstrate this, Frege realized that he needed to develop logical theory in order to 'FORMALISE' a mathematical statements, which typically involve multiple generality or multiple quantification -- alla "The altogether nice girl loves the one-at-at-a-time sailor"  (e.g., ‘Every natural number has a successor’, i.e. ‘For every natural number x there is another natural number y that is the successor of x’). This development, by extending the use of function-argument analysis in mathematics to logic and providing a notation for quantification, is  essentially the achievement of his Begriffsschrift, where he not only created the first system of predicate calculus but also, using it, succeeded in giving a logical analysis of mathematical induction (see Frege FR, 47-78).  In Die Grundlagen der Arithmetik, Frege goes on to provide a logical analysis of number statements (as in "Mary had two little lambs; therefore she has one little lamb" -- "Mary has a little lamb" -- "Mary has at least one lamb and at most one lamb"). Frege's central idea is that a number statement contains an assertion about a 'concept.'A statement such as Jupiter has four moons.is to be understood NOT as *predicating* of *Jupiter* the property of having four moons, but as predicating of the 'concept' "moon of Jupiter" the second-level property " ... has at least and at most four instances," which can be logically defined. The significance of this construal can be brought out by considering negative existential statements (which are equivalent to number statements involving "0"). Take the following negative existential statement:  Unicorns do not exist. Or Grice's"Pegasus does not exist.""A flying horse does not exist."If we attempt to analyze this decompositionally, taking the 'matter' to leads us to the 'form,' which as philosophers, is all we care for, we find ourselves asking what these unicorns or this flying horse called Pegasus are that have the property of non-existence!Martin, to provoke Quine, called his cat 'Pegasus.'For Quine, x is Pegasus if x Pegasus-ises (Quine, to abbreviate, speaks of 'pegasise,' which is "a solicism, at Oxford."We may then be forced to posit the Meinongian subsistence — as opposed to existence — of a unicorn -- cf. Warnock on 'Tigers exist' in "Metaphysics in Logic" -- just as Meinong (in his ontological jungle, as Grice calls it) and Russell did ('the author of Waverley does not exist -- he was invented by the literary society"), in order for there to be something that is the subject of our statement.  On the Fregean account, however, to deny that something exists is to say that the corresponding concept has no instance -- it is not possible to apply 'substitutional quantification.' (This leads to the paradox of extensionalism, as Grice notes, in that all void predicates refer to the empty set). There is no need to posit any mysterious object, unless like Locke, we proceed empirically with complex ideas (that of a unicorn, or flying horse) as simple ideas (horse, winged). The Fregean analysis of (0a) consists in rephrasing it into (0b), which can then be readily FORMALISED as(0b) The concept unicorn is not instantiated. (0c) ~(∃x) Fx.  Similarly, to say that God exists is to say that the concept God is (uniquely) instantiated, i.e., to deny that the concept has 0 instances (or 2 or more instances). This is actually Russell's example ("What does it mean that (Ex)God?")But cf. Pears and Thomson, two collaborators with Grice in the reprint of an old Aristotelian symposium, "Is existence a predicate?"On this view, existence is no longer seen as a (first-level) predicate, but instead, existential statements are analyzed in terms of the (second-level) predicate is instantiated, represented by means of the existential quantifier. As Frege notes, this offers a neat diagnosis of what is wrong with the ontological argument, at least in its traditional form (GL, §53). All the problems that arise if we try to apply decompositional analysis (at least straight off) simply drop away, although an account is still needed, of course, of concepts and quantifiers.  The possibilities that this strategy of ‘translating’ 'MATTER' into 'FORM' opens up are enormous.We are no longer forced to treat the 'MATTER' of a statement as a guide to 'FORM', and are provided with a means of representing that form.  This is the value of logical analysis.It allows us to ‘analyze away’ problematic linguistic MATERIAL or matter-expressions and explain what it is going on at the level of the FORM, not the MATTERGrice calls this 'hylemorphism,' granting "it is confusing in that we are talking 'eidos,' not 'morphe'." This strategy was employed, most famously, in Russell's theory of descriptions (on 'the' and 'some') which was a major motivation behind the ideas of Wittgenstein's Tractatus.SeeGrice, "Definite descriptions in Russell and in the vernacular"Although subsequent philosophers were to question the assumption that there could ever be a definitive logical analysis of a given statement, the idea that this or that 'material' expression may be systematically misleading has remained.  To illustrate this, consider the following examples from Ryle's essay ‘Systematically Misleading Expressions’:  (Ua) Unpunctuality is reprehensible.Or from  Grice's and Strawson's seminar on Aristotle's Categories:Smith's disinteresteness and altruism are in the other room.Banbury is an egoism. Egoism is reprehensible Banbury is malevolent. Malevolence is rephrensible. Banbury is an altruism. Altruism and cooperativeness are commendable. In terms of second-order predicate calculus. If Banbury is altruist, Banbury is commendable.  (Ta) Banbury hates (the thought of) going to hospital.  Ray Noble loves the very thought of you. In each case, we might be tempted to make unnecessary 'reification,' or subjectification, as Grice prefers (mocking 'nominalisation' -- a category shift) taking ‘unpunctuality’ and ‘the thought of going to hospital’ as referring to a thing, or more specifically a 'prote ousia,' or spatio-temporal continuant. It is because of this that Ryle describes such expressions as ‘systematically misleading’.  As Ryle later told Grice, "I would have used 'implicaturally misleading,' but you hadn't yet coined the thing!" (Ua) and (Ta) must therefore be rephrased:  (Ub)  Whoever is unpunctual deserves that other people should reprove him for being unpunctual.  Although Grice might say that it is one harmless thing to reprove 'interestedness' and another thing to recommend BANBURY himself, not his disinterestedness. (Tb) Jones feels distressed when he thinks of what he will undergo IF he goes to hospital.  Or in more behaviouristic terms: The dog salivates when he salivates that he will be given food.(Ryle avoided 'thinking' like the rats). In this or that FORM of the MATTER, there is no overt talk at all of ‘unpunctuality’ or ‘thoughts’, and hence nothing to tempt us to posit the existence of any corresponding entities. The problems that otherwise arise have thus been ‘analyzed away’.  At the time that he wrote ‘Systematically Misleading Expressions’, Ryle too, assumed that every statement has a form -- even Sraffa's gesture has a form -- that was to be exhibited correctly.But when he gave up this assumption (and call himself and Strawson 'informalist') he did not give up the motivating idea of conceptual analysis—to show what is wrong with misleading expressions. In The Concept of Mind Ryle sought to explain what he called the ‘category-mistake’ involved in talk of the mind as a kind of ‘Ghost in the Machine’. "I was so fascinated with this idea that when they offered me the editorship of "Mind," on our first board meeting I proposed we changed the name of the publication to "Ghost." They objected, with a smile."Ryle's aim is to “'rectify' the conceptual geography or botany of the knowledge which we already possess," an idea that was to lead to the articulation of connective rather than 'reductive,' alla Grice, if not reductionist, alla Churchland, conceptions of analysis, the emphasis being placed on elucidating the relationships BETWEEN this or that concepts without assuming that there is a privileged set of intrinsically basic or prior concepts (v. Oxford Linguistic Philosophy).  For Grice, surely 'intend' is prior to 'mean,' and 'utterer' is prior to 'expression'. Yet he is no reductionist. In "Negation," introspection and incompatibility are prior to 'not.'In "Personal identity," memory is prior to 'self.'Etc. Vide, Grice, "Conceptual analysis and the defensible province of philosophy."Ryle says, "You might say that if it's knowledge it cannot be rectified, but this is Oxford! Everything is rectifiable!" What these varieties of conceptual analysis suggest, then, is that what characterizes analysis in analytic philosophy is something far richer than the mere ‘de-composition’ of a concept into its ‘constituents’. Although reductive is surely a necessity.The alternative is to take the concept as a 'theoretical' thing introduced by Ramseyfied description in this law of this theory.For things which are a matter of intuition, like all the concepts Grice has philosophical intuitions for, you cannot apply the theory-theory model. You need the 'reductive analysis.' And the analysis NEEDS to be 'reductive' if it's to be analysis at all! But this is not to say that the decompositional conception of analysis plays no role at all. It can be found in Moore, for example.It might also be seen as reflected in the approach to the analysis of concepts that seeks to specify the necessary and sufficient conditions for their correct employment, as  in Grice's infamous account of 'mean' for which he lists Urmson and Strawson as challenging the sufficiency, and himself as challenging the necessity!  Conceptual analysis in this way goes back to the Socrates of Plato's early dialogues -- and Grice thought himself an English Socrates -- and Oxonian dialectic as Athenian dialectic-- "Even if I never saw him bothering people with boring philosophical puzzles."But it arguably reached its heyday with Grice.The definition of ‘knowledge’ as ‘justified true belief’ is perhaps the second most infamous example; and this definition was criticised in Gettier's classic essay -- and again by Grice in the section on the causal theory of 'know' in WoW -- Way of Words.The specification of necessary and sufficient conditions may no longer be seen as the primary aim of conceptual analysis, especially in the case of philosophical concepts such as ‘knowledge’, which are fiercely contested.But consideration of such conditions remains a useful tool in the analytic philosopher's toolbag, along with the implicaturum, what Grice called his "new shining tool" "even if it comes with a new shining skid!"The use of ‘logical form,’ as Grice and Strawson note, tends to be otiose. They sometimes just use ‘form.’ It’s different from the ‘syntactic matter’ of the expression. Matter is strictly what Ammonius uses to translate ‘hyle’ as applied to this case. When Aristotle in Anal. Pr. Uses variable letters that’s the forma or eidos; when he doesn’t (and retreats to ‘homo’, etc.) he is into ‘hyle,’ or ‘materia.’ What other form is there? Grammatical? Surface versus deep structure? God knows. It’s not even clear with Witters! Grice at least has a theory. You draw a skull to communicate there is danger. So you are concerned with the logical form of “there is danger.” An exploration on logical form can start and SHOULD INCLUDE what Grice calls the ‘one-off predicament,” of an open GAIIB.” To use Carruthers’s example and Blackburn: You draw an arrow to have your followers choose one way on the fork of the road. The logical form is that of the communicatum. The emissor means that his follower should follow the left path. What is the logical form of this? It may be said that “p” has a simplex logical form, the A is B – predicate calculus, or ‘predicative’ calculus, as Starwson more traditionally puts it! Then there is molecular complex logical form with ‘negation,’ ‘and’, ‘or’, and ‘if.’. you can’t put it in symbols, it’s not worth saying. Oh, no, if you can put it in symbols, it’s not worth saying. Grice loved the adage, “quod per litteras demonstrare volumus, universaliter demonstramus.” material adequacy, the property that belongs to a formal definition of a concept when that definition characterizes or “captures” the extension (or material) of the concept. Intuitively, a formal definition of a concept is materially adequate if and only if it is neither too broad nor too narrow. Tarski advanced the state of philosophical semantics by discovering the criterion of material adequacy of truth definitions contained in his convention T. Material adequacy contrasts with analytic adequacy, which belongs to definitions that provide a faithful analysis. Defining an integer to be even if and only if it is the product of two consecutive integers would be materially adequate but not analytically adequate, whereas defining an integer to be even if and only if it is a multiple of 2 would be both materially and analytically adequate.

Mcdougall: Irish philosophical psychologist. He was probably the first to define psychology as the science of behavior (Physiological Psychology, 1905; Psychology: The Science of Behavior, 1912) and he invented hormic (purposive) psychology. By the early twentieth century, as psychology strove to become scientific, purpose had become a suspect concept, but following Stout, McDougall argued that organisms possess an “intrinsic power of self-determination,” making goal seeking the essential and defining feature of behavior. In opposition to mechanistic and intellectualistic psychologies, McDougall, again following Stout, proposed that innate instincts (later, propensities) directly or indirectly motivate all behavior (Introduction to Social Psychology, 1908). Unlike more familiar psychoanalytic instincts, however, many of McDougall’s instincts were social in nature (e.g. gregariousness, deference). Moreover, McDougall never regarded a person as merely an assemblage of unconnected and quarreling motives, since people are “integrated unities” guided by one supreme motive around which others are organized. McDougall’s stress on behavior’s inherent purposiveness influenced the behaviorist E. C. Tolman, but was otherwise roundly rejected by more mechanistic behaviorists and empiricistically inclined sociologists. In his later years, McDougall moved farther from mainstream thought by championing Lamarckism and sponsoring research in parapsychology. Active in social causes, McDougall was an advocate of eugenics (Is America Safe for Democracy?, 1921).

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

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

materia/forma distinction, materia-inmateria distinction --: immaterialism, Materia-forma -- formale/informale distinction: informal logic: Grice preferred ‘material’ logic – “What Strawson means by ‘informal logic’ is best expressed by ‘ordinary-language logic,’ drawing on Bergmann’s distinction between the ordinary and the ideal.” Also called practical logic, the use of logic to identify, analyze, and evaluate arguments as they occur in contexts of discourse in everyday conversations. In informal logic, arguments are assessed on a case-by-case basis, relative to how the argument was used in a given context to persuade someone to accept the conclusion, or at least to give some reason relevant to accepting the conclusion. One of Grice’s twelve labours is with Materialism. Immaterialism is the view that objects are best characterized as mere collections of qualities: “a certain colour, taste, smell, figure and consistence having been observed to go together, are accounted one distinct thing, signified by the name apple” (Berkeley, Principles, 1). So construed, immaterialism anticipates by some two hundred years a doctrine defended in the early twentieth century by Russell. The negative side of the doctrine comes in the denial of material substance or matter. Some philosophers had held that ordinary objects are individual material substances in which qualities inhere. The account is mistaken because, according to immaterialism, there is no such thing as material substance, and so qualities do not inhere in it. Immaterialism should not be confused with Berkeley’s idealism. The latter, but not the former, implies that objects and their qualities exist if and only if they are perceived. materia-forma distinction, the: forma: form, in metaphysics, especially Plato’s and Aristotle’s, the structure or essence of a thing as contrasted with its matter. Plato’s theory of Forms is a realistic ontology of universals. In his elenchus, Socrates sought what is common to, e.g., all chairs. Plato believed there must be an essence  or Form  common to everything falling under one concept, which makes anything what it is. A chair is a chair because it “participates in” the Form of Chair. The Forms are ideal “patterns,” unchanging, timeless, and perfect. They exist in a world of their own cf. the Kantian noumenal realm. Plato speaks of them as self-predicating: the Form of Beauty is perfectly beautiful. This led, as he realized, to the Third Man argument that there must be an infinite number of Forms. The only true understanding is of the Forms. This we attain through anamnesis, “recollection.” 2 Aristotle agreed that forms are closely tied to intelligibility, but denied their separate existence. Aristotle explains change and generation through a distinction between the form and matter of substances. A lump of bronze matter becomes a statue through its being molded into a certain shape form. In his earlier metaphysics, Aristotle identified primary substance with the composite of matter and form, e.g. Socrates. Later, he suggests that primary substance is form  what makes Socrates what he is the form here is his soul. This notion of forms as essences has obvious similarities with the Platonic view. They became the “substantial forms” of Scholasticism, accepted until the seventeenth century. Kant saw form as the a priori aspect of experience. We are presented with phenomenological “matter,” which has no meaning until the mind imposes some form upon it. Grice finds the ‘logical’ in ‘logical form’ otiose. “Unless we contrast it with logical matter.” Refs.: Grice, “Form: logical and other.” A formal fallacy is an invalid inference pattern that is described in terms of a formal logic. There are three main cases: 1 an invalid or otherwise unacceptable argument identified solely by its form or structure, with no reference to the content of the premises and conclusion such as equivocation or to other features, generally of a pragmatic character, of the argumentative discourse such as unsuitability of the argument for the purposes for which it is given, failure to satisfy inductive standards for acceptable argument, etc.; the latter conditions of argument evaluation fall into the purview of informal fallacy; 2 a formal rule of inference, or an argument form, that is not valid in the logical system on which the evaluation is made, instances of which are sufficiently frequent, familiar, or deceptive to merit giving a name to the rule or form; ad 3 an argument that is an instance of a fallacious rule of inference or of a fallacious argument form and that is not itself valid. The criterion of satisfactory argument typically taken as relevant in discussing formal fallacies is validity. In this regard, it is important to observe that rules of inference and argument forms that are not valid may have instances which may be another rule or argument form, or may be a specific argument that are valid. Thus, whereas the argument form i P, Q; therefore R a form that every argument, including every valid argument, consisting of two premises shares is not valid, the argument form ii, obtained from i by substituting P&Q for R, is a valid instance of i: ii P, Q; therefore P&Q. Since ii is not invalid, ii is not a formal fallacy though it is an instance of i. Thus, some instances of formally fallacious rules of inference or argument-forms may be valid and therefore not be formal fallacies. Examples of formal fallacies follow below, presented according to the system of logic appropriate to the level of description of the fallacy. There are no standard names for some of the fallacies listed below. Fallacies of sentential propositional logic. Affirming the consequent: If p then q; q / , p. ‘If Richard had his nephews murdered, then Richard was an evil man; Richard was an evil man. Therefore, Richard had his nephews murdered.’ Denying the antecedent: If p then q; not-p / , not-q. ‘If North was found guilty by the courts, then North committed the crimes charged of him; North was not found guilty by the courts. Therefore, North did not commit the crimes charged of him.’ Commutation of conditionals: If p then q / , If q then p. ‘If Reagan was a great leader, then so was Thatcher. Therefore, if Thatcher was a great leader, then so was Reagan.” Improper transposition: If p then q / , If not-p then not-q. ‘If the nations of the Middle East disarm, there will be peace in the region. Therefore, if the nations of the Middle East do not disarm, there will not be peace in the region.’ Improper disjunctive syllogism affirming one disjunct: p or q; p / ,, not-q. ‘Either John is an alderman or a ward committeeman; John is an alderman. Therefore, John is not a ward committeeman.’ This rule of inference would be valid if ‘or’ were interpreted exclusively, where ‘p or EXq’ is true if exactly one constituent is true and is false otherwise. In standard systems of logic, however, ‘or’ is interpreted inclusively. Fallacies of syllogistic logic. Fallacies of distribution where M is the middle term, P is the major term, and S is the minor term. Undistributed middle term: the middle term is not distributed in either premise roughly, nothing is said of all members of the class it designates, as in form, grammatical formal fallacy 316   316 Some P are M ‘Some politicians are crooks. Some M are S Some crooks are thieves. ,Some S are P. ,Some politicians are thieves.’ Illicit major undistributed major term: the major term is distributed in the conclusion but not in the major premise, as in All M are P ‘All radicals are communists. No S are M No socialists are radicals. ,Some S are ,Some socialists are not not P. communists.’ Illicit minor undistributed minor term: the minor term is distributed in the conclusion but not in the minor premise, as in All P are M ‘All neo-Nazis are radicals. All M are S All radicals are terrorists. ,All S are P. ,All terrorists are neoNazis.’ Fallacies of negation. Two negative premises exclusive premises: the syllogism has two negative premises, as in No M are P ‘No racist is just. Some M are not S Some racists are not police. ,Some S are not P. ,Some police are not just. Illicit negative/affirmative: the syllogism has a negative premise conclusion but no negative conclusion premise, as in All M are P ‘All liars are deceivers. Some M are not S Some liars are not aldermen. ,Some S are P. ,Some aldermen are deceivers.’ and All P are M ‘All vampires are monsters. All M are S All monsters are creatures. ,Some S are not P. ,Some creatures are not vampires.’ Fallacy of existential import: the syllogism has two universal premises and a particular conclusion, as in All P are M ‘All horses are animals. No S are M No unicorns are animals. ,Some S are not P. ,Some unicorns are not horses.’ A syllogism can commit more than one fallacy. For example, the syllogism Some P are M Some M are S ,No S are P commits the fallacies of undistributed middle, illicit minor, illicit major, and illicit negative/affirmative. Fallacies of predicate logic. Illicit quantifier shift: inferring from a universally quantified existential proposition to an existentially quantified universal proposition, as in Ex Dy Fxy / , Dy Ex Fxy ‘Everyone is irrational at some time or other /, At some time, everyone is irrational.’ Some are/some are not unwarranted contrast: inferring from ‘Some S are P’ that ‘Some S are not P’ or inferring from ‘Some S are not P’ that ‘Some S are P’, as in Dx Sx & Px / , Dx Sx & -Px ‘Some people are left-handed / , Some people are not left-handed.’ Illicit substitution of identicals: where f is an opaque oblique context and a and b are singular terms, to infer from fa; a = b / , fb, as in ‘The Inspector believes Hyde is Hyde; Hyde is Jekyll / , The Inspector believes Hyde is Jekyll.’  Forma gives rise to formalism (or the formalists), which Grice contrasts with Ryle and Strawson’s informalism (the informalists). Formalism is described by Grice as the the view that mathematics concerns manipulations of symbols according to prescribed structural rules. It is cousin to nominalism, the older and more general metaphysical view that denies the existence of all abstract objects and is often contrasted with Platonism, which takes mathematics to be the study of a special class of non-linguistic, non-mental objects, and intuitionism, which takes it to be the study of certain mental constructions. In sophisticated versions, mathematical activity can comprise the study of possible formal manipulations within a system as well as the manipulations themselves, and the “symbols” need not be regarded as either linguistic or concrete. Formalism is often associated with the mathematician formalism formalism 317   317 David Hilbert. But Hilbert held that the “finitary” part of mathematics, including, for example, simple truths of arithmetic, describes indubitable facts about real objects and that the “ideal” objects that feature elsewhere in mathematics are introduced to facilitate research about the real objects. Hilbert’s formalism is the view that the foundations of mathematics can be secured by proving the consistency of formal systems to which mathematical theories are reduced. Gödel’s two incompleteness theorems establish important limitations on the success of such a project. And then there’s “formalization,” an abstract representation of a theory that must satisfy requirements sharper than those imposed on the structure of theories by the axiomatic-deductive method. That method can be traced back to Euclid’s Elements. The crucial additional requirement is the regimentation of inferential steps in proofs: not only do axioms have to be given in advance, but the rules representing argumentative steps must also be taken from a predetermined list. To avoid a regress in the definition of proof and to achieve intersubjectivity on a minimal basis, the rules are to be “formal” or “mechanical” and must take into account only the form of statements. Thus, to exclude any ambiguity, a precise and effectively described language is needed to formalize particular theories. The general kind of requirements was clear to Aristotle and explicit in Leibniz; but it was only Frege who, in his Begriffsschrift 1879, presented, in addition to an expressively rich language with relations and quantifiers, an adequate logical calculus. Indeed, Frege’s calculus, when restricted to the language of predicate logic, turned out to be semantically complete. He provided for the first time the means to formalize mathematical proofs. Frege pursued a clear philosophical aim, namely, to recognize the “epistemological nature” of theorems. In the introduction to his Grundgesetze der Arithmetik 3, Frege wrote: “By insisting that the chains of inference do not have any gaps we succeed in bringing to light every axiom, assumption, hypothesis or whatever else you want to call it on which a proof rests; in this way we obtain a basis for judging the epistemological nature of the theorem.” The Fregean frame was used in the later development of mathematical logic, in particular, in proof theory. Gödel established through his incompleteness theorems fundamental limits of formalizations of particular theories, like the system of Principia Mathematica or axiomatic set theories. The general notion of formal theory emerged from the subsequent investigations of Church and Turing clarifying the concept of ‘mechanical procedure’ or ‘algorithm.’ Only then was it possible to state and prove the incompleteness theorems for all formal theories satisfying certain very basic representability and derivability conditions. Gödel emphasized repeatedly that these results do not establish “any bounds for the powers of human reason, but rather for the potentialities of pure formalism in mathematics.”  As Grice notes, to ormalize: narrowly construed, to formulate a subject as a theory in first-order predicate logic; broadly construed, to describe the essentials of the subject in some formal language for which a notion of consequence is defined. For Hilbert, formalizing mathematics requires at least that there be finite means of checking purported proofs.  The formalists speak of a ‘formal’ language, “but is it a language?” – Grice. formal language: H. P. Grice, “Bergmann on ideal language versus ordinary language,” a language in which an expression’s grammaticality and interpretation if any are determined by precisely defined rules that appeal only to the form or shape of the symbols that constitute it rather than, for example, to the intention of the speaker. It is usually understood that the rules are finite and effective so that there is an algorithm for determining whether an expression is a formula and that the grammatical expressions are uniquely readable, i.e., they are generated by the rules in only one way. A paradigm example is the language of firstorder predicate logic, deriving principally from the Begriffsschrift of Frege. The grammatical formulas of this language can be delineated by an inductive definition: 1 a capital letter ‘F’, ‘G’, or ‘H’, with or without a numerical subscript, folformalism, aesthetic formal language 318   318 lowed by a string of lowercase letters ‘a’, ‘b’, or ‘c’, with or without numerical subscripts, is a formula; 2 if A is a formula, so is -A; 3 if A and B are formulas, so are A & B, A P B, and A 7 B; 4 if A is a formula and v is a lowercase letter ‘x’, ‘y’, or ‘z’, with or without numerical subscripts, then DvA' and EvA' are formulas where A' is obtained by replacing one or more occurrences of some lowercase letter in A together with its subscripts if any by v; 5 nothing is a formula unless it can be shown to be one by finitely many applications of the clauses 14. The definition uses the device of metalinguistic variables: clauses with ‘A’ and ‘B’ are to be regarded as abbreviations of all the clauses that would result by replacing these letters uniformly by names of expressions. It also uses several naming conventions: a string of symbols is named by enclosing it within single quotes and also by replacing each symbol in the string by its name; the symbols ‘7’, ‘‘,’’, ‘&’, ‘P’, ‘-’ are considered names of themselves. The interpretation of predicate logic is spelled out by a similar inductive definition of truth in a model. With appropriate conventions and stipulations, alternative definitions of formulas can be given that make expressions like ‘P 7 Q’ the names of formulas rather than formulas themselves. On this approach, formulas need not be written symbols at all and form cannot be identified with shape in any narrow sense. For Tarski, Carnap, and others a formal language also included rules of “transformation” specifying when one expression can be regarded as a consequence of others. Today it is more common to view the language and its consequence relation as distinct. Formal languages are often contrasted with natural languages, like English or Swahili. Richard Montague, however, has tried to show that English is itself a formal language, whose rules of grammar and interpretation are similar to  though much more complex than  predicate logic.  Then there’s formal learnability theory, the study of human language learning through explicit formal models typically employing artifical languages and simplified learning strategies. The fundamental problem is how a learner is able to arrive at a grammar of a language on the basis of a finite sample of presented sentences and perhaps other kinds of information as well. The seminal work is by E. Gold 7, who showed, roughly, that learnability of certain types of grammars from the Chomsky hierarchy by an unbiased learner required the presentation of ungrammatical strings, identified as such, along with grammatical strings. Recent studies have concentrated on other types of grammar e.g., generative transformational grammars, modes of presentation, and assumptions about learning strategies in an attempt to approximate the actual situation more closely. If Strawson and Ryle are into ‘informal logic,’ Hilbert isn’t. Formal logic, versus ‘material logic,’ is the science of correct reasoning, going back to Aristotle’s Prior Analytics, based upon the premise that the validity of an argument is a function of its structure or logical form. The modern embodiment of formal logic is symbolic mathematical logic. This is the study of valid inference in artificial, precisely formulated languages, the grammatical structure of whose sentences or well-formed formulas is intended to mirror, or be a regimentation of, the logical forms of their natural language counterparts. These formal languages can thus be viewed as mathematical models of fragments of natural language. Like models generally, these models are idealizations, typically leaving out of account such phenomena as vagueness, ambiguity, and tense. But the idea underlying symbolic logic is that to the extent that they reflect certain structural features of natural language arguments, the study of valid inference in formal languages can yield insight into the workings of those arguments. The standard course of study for anyone interested in symbolic logic begins with the classical propositional calculus sentential calculus, or PC. Here one constructs a theory of valid inference for a formal language built up from a stock of propositional variables sentence letters and an expressively complete set of connectives. In the propositional calculus, one is therefore concerned with arguments whose validity turns upon the presence of two-valued truth-functional sentence-forming operators on sentences such as classical negation, conjunction, disjunction, and the like. The next step is the predicate calculus lower functional calculus, first-order logic, elementary quantification theory, the study of valid inference in first-order languages. These are languages built up from an expressively complete set of connectives, first-order universal or existential quantifiers, individual variables, names, predicates relational symbols, and perhaps function symbols. Further, and more specialized, work in symbolic logic might involve looking at fragments of the language of the propositional or predicate calculus, changing the semantics that the language is standardly given e.g., by allowing truth-value gaps or more than two truth-values, further embellishing the language e.g., by adding modal or other non-truth-functional connectives, or higher-order quantifiers, or liberalizing the grammar or syntax of the language e.g., by permitting infinitely long well-formed formulas. In some of these cases, of course, symbolic logic remains only marginally connected with natural language arguments as the interest shades off into one in formal languages for their own sake, a mark of the most advanced work being done in formal logic today.  Some philosophers (“me included” – Grice) speak of “formal semantics,” as opposed to Austin’s informal linguistic botanising -- the study of the interpretations of formal languages. A formal language can be defined apart from any interpretation of it. This is done by specifying a set of its symbols and a set of formation rules that determine which strings of symbols are grammatical or well formed. When rules of inference transformation rules are added and/or certain sentences are designated as axioms a logical system also known as a logistic system is formed. An interpretation of a formal language is roughly an assignment of meanings to its symbols and truth conditions to its sentences. Typically a distinction is made between a standard interpretation of a formal language and a non-standard interpretation. Consider a formal language in which arithmetic is formulable. In addition to the symbols of logic variables, quantifiers, brackets, and connectives, this language will contain ‘0’, ‘!’, ‘•’, and ‘s’. A standard interpretation of it assigns the set of natural numbers as the domain of discourse, zero to ‘0’, addition to ‘!’, multiplication to ‘•’, and the successor function to ‘s’. Other standard interpretations are isomorphic to the one just given. In particular, standard interpretations are numeral-complete in that they correlate the numerals one-to-one with the domain elements. A result due to Gödel and Rosser is that there are universal quantifications xAx that are not deducible from the Peano axioms if those axioms are consistent even though each An is provable. The Peano axioms if consistent are true on each standard interpretation. Thus each An is true on such an interpretation. Thus xAx is true on such an interpretation since a standard interpretation is numeral-complete. However, there are non-standard interpretations that do not correlate the numerals one-to-one with domain elements. On some of these interpretations each An is true but xAx is false. In constructing and interpreting a formal language we use a language already known to us, say, English. English then becomes our metalanguage, which we use to talk about the formal language, which is our object language. Theorems proven within the object language must be distinguished from those proven in the metalanguage. The latter are metatheorems. One goal of a semantical theory of a formal language is to characterize the consequence relation as expressed in that language and prove semantical metatheorems about that relation. A sentence S is said to be a consequence of a set of sentences K provided S is true on every interpretation on which each sentence in K is true. This notion has to be kept distinct from the notion of deduction. The latter concept can be defined only by reference to a logical system associated with a formal language. Consequence, however, can be characterized independently of a logical system, as was just done. 

Materialism: one of the twelve labours of H. P. Grice. d’Holbach, Paul-Henri-Dietrich, Baron, philosopher, a leading materialist and prolific contributor to the Encyclopedia. He dharma d’Holbach, Paul-Henri-Dietrich 231   231 was born in the Rhenish Palatinate, settled in France at an early age, and read law at Leiden. After inheriting an uncle’s wealth and title, he became a solicitor at the Paris “Parlement” and a regular host of philosophical dinners attended by the Encyclopedists and visitors of renown Gibbon, Hume, Smith, Sterne, Priestley, Beccaria, Franklin. Knowledgeable in chemistry and mineralogy and fluent in several languages, he tr. G. scientific works and English anti-Christian pamphlets into . Basically, d’Holbach was a synthetic thinker, powerful though not original, who systematized and radicalized Diderot’s naturalism. Also drawing on Hobbes, Spinoza, Locke, Hume, Buffon, Helvétius, and La Mettrie, his treatises were so irreligious and anticlerical that they were published abroad anonymously or pseudonymously: Christianity Unveiled 1756, The Sacred Contagion 1768, Critical History of Jesus 1770, The Social System 1773, and Universal Moral 1776. His masterpiece, the System of Nature 1770, a “Lucretian” compendium of eighteenth-century materialism, even shocked Voltaire. D’Holbach derived everything from matter and motion, and upheld universal necessity. The self-sustaining laws of nature are normative. Material reality is therefore contrasted to metaphysical delusion, self-interest to alienation, and earthly happiness to otherworldly optimism. More vindictive than Toland’s, d’Holbach’s unmitigated critique of Christianity anticipated Feuerbach, Strauss, Marx, and Nietzsche. He discredited supernatural revelation, theism, deism, and pantheism as mythological, censured Christian virtues as unnatural, branded piety as fanatical, and stigmatized clerical ignorance, immorality, and despotism. Assuming that science liberates man from religious hegemony, he advocated sensory and experimental knowledge. Believing that society and education form man, he unfolded a mechanistic anthropology, a eudaimonistic morality, and a secular, utilitarian social and political program. 

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

maximal consistent set, in formal logic, any set of sentences S that is consistent – i.e., no contradiction is provable from S – and maximally so – i.e., if T is consistent and S 0 T, then S % T. It can be shown that if S is maximally consistent and s is a sentence in the same language, then either s or - s (the negation of s) is in S. Thus, a maximally consistent set is complete: it settles every question that can be raised in the language.

maximin strategy, a strategy that maximizes an agent’s minimum gain, or equivalently, minimizes his maximum loss. Writers who work in terms of loss thus call such a strategy a minimax strategy. The term ‘security strategy’, which avoids potential confusions, is now widely used. For each action, its security level is its payoff under the worst-case scenario. A security strategy is one with maximal security level. An agent’s security strategy maximizes his expected utility if and only if (1) he is certain that “nature” has his worst interests at heart and (2) he is certain that nature will be certain of his strategy when choosing hers. The first condition is satisfied in the case of a two-person zero-sum game where the payoff structure is commonly known. In this situation, “nature” is the other player, and her gain is equal to the first player’s loss. Obviously, these conditions do not hold for all decision problems.

Maxwell’s pataphysics -- hammer: Scots physicist who made pioneering contributions to the theory of electromagnetism, the kinetic theory of gases, and the theory of color vision. His work on electromagnetism is summarized in his Treatise on Electricity and Magnetism (1873). In 1871 he became Cambridge University’s first professor of experimental physics and founded the Cavendish Laboratory, which he directed until his death. Maxwell’s most important achievements were his field theory of electromagnetism and the discovery of the equations that bear his name. The field theory unified the laws of electricity and magnetism, identified light as a transverse vibration of the electromagnetic ether, and predicted the existence of radio waves. The fact that Maxwell’s equations are Lorentz-invariant and contain the speed of light as a constant played a major role in the genesis of the special theory of relativity. He arrived at his theory by searching for a “consistent representation” of the ether, i.e., a model of its inner workings consistent with the laws of mechanics. His search for a consistent representation was unsuccessful, but his papers used mechanical models and analogies to guide his thinking. Like Boltzmann, Maxwell advocated the heuristic value of model building. Maxwell was also a pioneer in statistical physics. His derivation of the laws governing the macroscopic behavior of gases from assumptions about the random collisions of gas molecules led directly to Boltzmann’s transport equation and the statistical analysis of irreversibility. To show that the second law of thermodynamics is probabilistic, Maxwell imagined a “neat-fingered” demon who could cause the entropy of a gas to decrease by separating the faster-moving gas molecules from the slower-moving ones.

Mazzei: essential Italian philosopher. Refs.: Luigi Speranza, "Grice e Mazzei," per il Club Anglo-Italiano, The Swimming-Pool Library, Villa Grice, Liguria, Italia.

Communicatum: meaning, the conventional, common, or standard sense of an expression, construction, or sentence in a given language, or of a non-linguistic signal or symbol. Literal meaning is the non-figurative, strict meaning an expression or sentence has in a language by virtue of the dictionary meaning of its words and the import of its syntactic constructions. Synonymy is sameness of literal meaning: ‘prestidigitator’ means ‘expert at sleight of hand’. It is said that meaning is what a good translation preserves, and this may or may not be literal: in French ‘Où sont les neiges d’antan?’ literally means ‘Where are the snows of yesteryear?’ and figuratively means ‘nothing lasts’. Signal-types and symbols have non-linguistic conventional meaning: the white flag means truce; the lion means St. Mark. In another sense, meaning is what a person intends to communicate by a particular utterance – utterer’s meaning, as Grice called it, or speaker’s meaning, in Stephen Schiffer’s term. A speaker’s meaning may or may not coincide with the literal meaning of what is uttered, and it may be non-linguistic. Non-literal: in saying “we will soon be in our tropical paradise,” Jane meant that they would soon be in Antarctica. Literal: in saying “that’s deciduous,” she meant that the tree loses its leaves every year. Non-linguistic: by shrugging, she meant that she agreed. The literal meaning of a sentence typically does not determine exactly what a speaker says in making a literal utterance: the meaning of ‘she is praising me’ leaves open what John says in uttering it, e.g. that Jane praises John at 12:00 p.m., Dec. 21, 1991. A not uncommon – but theoretically loaded – way of accommodating this is to count the context-specific things that speakers say as propositions, entities that can be expressed in different languages and that are (on certain theories) the content of what is said, believed, desired, and so on. On that assumption, a sentence’s literal meaning is a context-independent rule, or function, that determines a certain proposition (the content of what the speaker says) given the context of utterance. David Kaplan has called such a rule or function a sentence’s “character.” A sentence’s literal meaning also includes its potential for performing certain illocutionary acts, in J. L. Austin’s term. The meaning of an imperative sentence determines what orders, requests, and the like can literally be expressed: ‘sit down there’ can be uttered literally by Jane to request (or order or urge) John to sit down at 11:59 a.m. on a certain bench in Santa Monica. Thus a sentence’s literal meaning involves both its character and a constraint on illocutionary acts: it maps contexts onto illocutionary acts that have (something like) determinate propositional contents. A context includes the identity of speaker, hearer, time of utterance, and also aspects of the speaker’s intentions. In ethics the distinction has flourished between the expressive or emotive meaning of a word or sentence and its cognitive meaning. The emotive meaning of an utterance or a term is the attitude it expresses, the pejorative meaning of ‘chiseler’, say. An emotivist in ethics, e.g. C. L. Stevenson, cited by Grice in “Meaning” for the Oxford Philosophical Society, holds that the literal meaning of ‘it is good’ is identical with its emotive meaning, the positive attitude it expresses. On Hare’s theory, the literal meaning of ‘ought’ is its prescriptive meaning, the imperative force it gives to certain sentences that contain it. Such “noncognitivist” theories can allow that a term like ‘good’ also has non-literal descriptive meaning, implying nonevaluative properties of an object. By contrast, cognitivists take the literal meaning of an ethical term to be its cognitive meaning: ‘good’ stands for an objective property, and in asserting “it is good” one literally expresses, not an attitude, but a true or false judgment. ’Cognitive meaning’ serves as well as any other term to capture what has been central in the theory of meaning beyond ethics, the “factual” element in meaning that remains when we abstract from its illocutionary and emotive aspects. It is what is shared by ‘there will be an eclipse tomorrow’ and ‘will there be an eclipse tomorrow?’. This common element is often identified with a proposition (or a “character”), but, once again, that is theoretically loaded. Although cognitive meaning has been the preoccupation of the theory of meaning in the twentieth century, it is difficult to define precisely in non-theoretical terms. Suppose we say that the cognitive meaning of a sentence is ‘that aspect of its meaning which is capable of being true or false’: there are non-truth-conditional theories of meaning (see below) on which this would not capture the essentials. Suppose we say it is ‘what is capable of being asserted’: an emotivist might allow that one can assert that a thing is good. Still many philosophers have taken for granted that they know cognitive meaning (under that name or not) well enough to theorize about what it consists in, and it is the focus of what follows. The oldest theories of meaning in modern philosophy are the seventeenth-to-nineteenth-century idea theory (also called the ideational theory) and image theory of meaning, according to which the meaning of words in public language derives from the ideas or mental images that words are used to express. As for what constitutes the representational properties of ideas, Descartes held it to be a basic property of the mind, inexplicable, and Locke a matter of resemblance (in some sense) between ideas and things. Contemporary analytic philosophy speaks more of propositional attitudes – thoughts, beliefs, intentions – than of ideas and images; and it speaks of the contents of such attitudes: if Jane believes that there are lions in Africa, that belief has as its content that there are lions in Africa. Virtually all philosophers agree that propositional attitudes have some crucial connection with meaning. A fundamental element of a theory of meaning is where it locates the basis of meaning, in thought, in individual speech, or in social practices. (i) Meaning may be held to derive entirely from the content of thoughts or propositional attitudes, that mental content itself being constituted independently of public linguistic meaning. (‘Constituted independently of’ does not imply ‘unshaped by’.) (ii) It may be held that the contents of beliefs and communicative intentions themselves derive in part from the meaning of overt speech, or even from social practices. Then meaning would be jointly constituted by both individual psychological and social linguistic facts. Theories of the first sort include those in the style of Grice, according to which sentences’ meanings are determined by practices or implicit conventions that govern what speakers mean when they use the relevant words and constructions. The emissor’s meaning is explained in terms of certain propositional attitudes, namely the emissor’s intentions to produce certain effects in his emissee. To mean that it is raining and that the emissee is to close the door is to utter or to do something (not necessarily linguistic) with the intention (very roughly) of getting one’s emissee to believe that it is raining and go and close the door. Theories of the emissor’s meaning have been elaborated at Oxford by H. P. Grice (originally in a lecture to the Oxford Philosophical Society, inspired in part by Ogden and Richards’s The Meaning of Meaning – ‘meaning’ was not considered a curricular topic in the Lit. Hum. programme he belonge in) and by Schiffer. David Lewis has proposed that linguistic meaning is constituted by implicit conventions that systematically associate sentences with speakers’ beliefs rather than with communicative intentions. The contents of thought might be held to be constitutive of linguistic meaning independently of communication. Russell, and Wittgenstein in his early writings, wrote about meaning as if the key thing is the propositional content of the belief or thought that a sentence (somehow) expresses; they apparently regarded this as holding on an individual basis and not essentially as deriving from communication intentions or social practices. And Chomsky speaks of the point of language as being “the free expression of thought.” Such views suggest that ‘linguistic meaning’ may stand for two properties, one involving communication intentions and practices, the other more intimately related to thinking and conceiving. By contrast, the content of propositional attitudes and the meaning of overt speech might be regarded as coordinate facts neither of which can obtain independently: to interpret other people one must assign both content to their beliefs/intentions and meaning to their utterances. This is explicit in Davidson’s truth-conditional theory (see below); perhaps it is present also in the post-Wittgensteinian notion of meaning as assertability conditions – e.g., in the writings of Dummett. On still other accounts, linguistic meaning is essentially social. Wittgenstein is interpreted by Kripke as holding in his later writings that social rules are essential to meaning, on the grounds that they alone explain the normative aspect of meaning, explain the fact that an expression’s meaning determines that some uses are correct or others incorrect. Another way in which meaning may be essentially social is Putnam’s “division of linguistic labor”: the meanings of some terms, say in botany or cabinetmaking, are set for the rest of us by specialists. The point might extend to quite non-technical words, like ‘red’: a person’s use of it may be socially deferential, in that the rule which determines what ‘red’ means in his mouth is determined, not by his individual usage, but by the usage of some social group to which he semantically defers. This has been argued by Tyler Burge to imply that the contents of thoughts themselves are in part a matter of social facts. Let us suppose there is a language L that contains no indexical terms, such as ‘now’, ‘I’, or demonstrative pronouns, but contains only proper names, common nouns, adjectives, verbs, adverbs, logical words. (No natural language is like this; but the supposition simplifies what follows.) Theories of meaning differ considerably in how they would specify the meaning of a sentence S of L. Here are the main contenders. (i) Specify S’s truth conditions: S is true if and only if some swans are black. (ii) Specify the proposition that S expresses: S means (the proposition) that some swans are black. (iii) Specify S’s assertability conditions: S is assertable if and only if blackswan-sightings occur or black-swan-reports come in, etc. (iv) Translate S into that sentence of our language which has the same use as S or the same conceptual role. Certain theories, especially those that specify meanings in ways (i) and (ii), take the compositionality of meaning as basic. Here is an elementary fact: a sentence’s meaning is a function of the meanings of its component words and constructions, and as a result we can utter and understand new sentences – old words and constructions, new sentences. Frege’s theory of Bedeutung or reference, especially his use of the notions of function and object, is about compositionality. In the Tractatus, Wittgenstein explains compositionality in his picture theory of meaning and theory of truth-functions. According to Wittgenstein, a sentence or proposition is a picture of a (possible) state of affairs; terms correspond to non-linguistic elements, and those terms’ arrangements in sentences have the same form as arrangements of elements in the states of affairs the sentences stand for. The leading truth-conditional theory of meaning is the one advocated by Davidson, drawing on the work of Tarski. Tarski showed that, for certain formalized languages, we can construct a finite set of rules that entails, for each sentence S of the infinitely many sentences of such a language, something of the form ‘S is true if and only if . . .’. Those finitely statable rules, which taken together are sometimes called a truth theory of the language, might entail ‘ “(x) (Rx P Bx)” is true if and only if every raven is black’. They would do this by having separately assigned interpretations to ‘R’, ‘B’, ‘P’, and ‘(x)’. Truth conditions are compositionally determined in analogous ways for sentences, however complex. Davidson proposes that Tarski’s device is applicable to natural languages and that it explains, moreover, what meaning is, given the following setting. Interpretation involves a principle of charity: interpreting a person N means making the best possible sense of N, and this means assigning meanings so as to maximize the overall truth of N’s utterances. A systematic interpretation of N’s language can be taken to be a Tarski-style truth theory that (roughly) maximizes the truth of N’s utterances. If such a truth theory implies that a sentence S is true in N’s language if and only if some swans are black, then that tells us the meaning of S in N’s language. A propositional theory of meaning would accommodate compositionality thus: a finite set of rules, which govern the terms and constructions of L, assigns (derivatively) a proposition (putting aside ambiguity) to each sentence S of L by virtue of S’s terms and constructions. If L contains indexicals, then such rules assign to each sentence not a fully specific proposition but a ‘character’ in the above sense. Propositions may be conceived in two ways: (a) as sets of possible circumstances or “worlds” – then ‘Hesperus is hot’ in English is assigned the set of possible worlds in which Hesperus is hot; and (b) as structured combinations of elements – then ‘Hesperus is hot’ is assigned a certain ordered pair of elements ‹M1,M2(. There are two theories about M1 and M2. They may be the senses of ‘Hesperus’ and ‘(is) hot’, and then the ordered pair is a “Fregean” proposition. They may be the references of ‘Hesperus’ and ‘(is) hot’, and then the ordered pair is a “Russellian” proposition. This difference reflects a fundamental dispute in twentieth-century philosophy of language. The connotation or sense of a term is its “mode of presentation,” the way it presents its denotation or reference. Terms with the same reference or denotation may present their references differently and so differ in sense or connotation. This is unproblematic for complex terms like ‘the capital of Italy’ and ‘the city on the Tiber’, which refer to Rome via different connotations. Controversy arises over simple terms, such as proper names and common nouns. Frege distinguished sense and reference for all expressions; the proper names ‘Phosphorus’ and ‘Hesperus’ express descriptive senses according to how we understand them – [that bright starlike object visible before dawn in the eastern sky . . .], [that bright starlike object visible after sunset in the western sky . . .]; and they refer to Venus by virtue of those senses. Russell held that ordinary proper names, such as ‘Romulus’, abbreviate definite descriptions, and in this respect his view resembles Frege’s. But Russell also held that, for those simple terms (not ‘Romulus’) into which statements are analyzable, sense and reference are not distinct, and meanings are “Russellian” propositions. (But Russell’s view of their constituents differs from present-day views.) Kripke rejected the “Frege-Russell” view of ordinary proper names, arguing that the reference of a proper name is determined, not by a descriptive condition, but typically by a causal chain that links name and reference – in the case of ‘Hesperus’ a partially perceptual relation perhaps, in the case of ‘Aristotle’ a causal-historical relation. A proper name is rather a rigid designator: any sentence of the form ‘Aristotle is . . . ‘ expresses a proposition that is true in a given possible world (or set of circumstances) if and only if our (actual) Aristotle satisfies, in that world, the condition ‘ . . . ‘. The “Frege-Russell” view by contrast incorporates in the proposition, not the actual referent, but a descriptive condition connotated by ‘Aristotle’ (the author of the Metaphysics, or the like), so that the name’s reference differs in different worlds even when the descriptive connotation is constant. (Someone else could have written the Metaphysics.) Some recent philosophers have taken the rigid designator view to motivate the stark thesis that meanings are Russellian propositions (or characters that map contexts onto such propositions): in the above proposition/meaning ‹M1,M2(, M1 is simply the referent – the planet Venus – itself. This would be a referential theory of meaning, one that equates meaning with reference. But we must emphasize that the rigid designator view does not directly entail a referential theory of meaning. What about the meanings of predicates? What sort of entity is M2 above? Putnam and Kripke also argue an anti-descriptive point about natural kind terms, predicates like ‘(is) gold’, ‘(is a) tiger’, ‘(is) hot’. These are not equivalent to descriptions – ’gold’ does not mean ‘metal that is yellow, malleable, etc.’ – but are rigid designators of underlying natural kinds whose identities are discovered by science. On a referential theory of meanings as Russellian propositions, the meaning of ‘gold’ is then a natural kind. (A complication arises: the property or kind that ‘widow’ stands for seems a good candidate for being the sense or connotation of ‘widow’, for what one understands by it. The distinction between Russellian and Fregean propositions is not then firm at every point.) On the standard sense-theory of meanings as Fregean propositions, M1 and M2 are pure descriptive senses. But a certain “neo-Fregean” view, suggested but not held by Gareth Evans, would count M1 and M2 as object-dependent senses. For example, ‘Hesperus’ and ‘Phosphorus’ would rigidly designate the same object but have distinct senses that cannot be specified without mention of that object. Note that, if proper names or natural kind terms have meanings of either sort, their meanings vary from speaker to speaker. A propositional account of meaning (or the corresponding account of “character”) may be part of a broader theory of meaning; for example: a Grice-type theory involving implicit conventions; (b) a theory that meaning derives from an intimate connection of language and thought; (c) a theory that invokes a principle of charity or the like in interpreting an individual’s speech; (d) a social theory on which meaning cannot derive entirely from the independently constituted contents of individuals’ thoughts or uses. A central tradition in twentieth-century theory of meaning identifies meaning with factors other than propositions (in the foregoing senses) and truth-conditions. The meaning of a sentence is what one understands by it; and understanding a sentence is knowing how to use it – knowing how to verify it and when to assert it, or being able to think with it and to use it in inferences and practical reasoning. There are competing theories here. In the 1930s, proponents of logical positivism held a verification theory of meaning, whereby a sentence’s or statement’s meaning consists in the conditions under which it can be verified, certified as acceptable. This was motivated by the positivists’ empiricism together with their view of truth as a metaphysical or non-empirical notion. A descendant of verificationism is the thesis, influenced by the later Wittgenstein, that the meaning of a sentence consists in its assertability conditions, the circumstances under which one is justified in asserting the sentence. If justification and truth can diverge, as they appear to, then a meaning meaning sentence’s assertability conditions can be distinct from (what non-verificationists see as) its truth conditions. Dummett has argued that assertability conditions are the basis of meaning and that truth-conditional semantics rests on a mistake (and hence also propositional semantics in sense [a] above). A problem with assertability theories is that, as is generally acknowledged, compositional theories of the assertability conditions of sentences are not easily constructed. A conceptual role theory of meaning (also called conceptual role semantics) typically presupposes that we think in a language of thought (an idea championed by Fodor), a system of internal states structured like a language that may or may not be closely related to one’s natural language. The conceptual role of a term is a matter of how thoughts that contain the term are dispositionally related to other thoughts, to sensory states, and to behavior. Hartry Field has pointed out that our Fregean intuitions about ‘Hesperus’ and ‘Phosphorus’ are explained by those terms’ having distinct conceptual roles, without appeal to Fregean descriptive senses or the like, and that this is compatible with those terms’ rigidly designating the same object. This combination can be articulated in two ways. Gilbert Harman proposes that meaning is “wide” conceptual role, so that conceptual role incorporates not just inferential factors, etc., but also Kripke-Putnam external reference relations. But there are also two-factor theories of meaning, as proposed by Field among others, which recognize two strata of meaning, one corresponding to how a person understands a term – its narrow conceptual role, the other involving references, Russellian propositions, or truth-conditions. As the language-of-thought view indicates, some concerns about meaning have been taken over by theories of the content of thoughts or propositional attitudes. A distinction is often made between the narrow content of a thought and its wide content. If psychological explanation invokes only “what is in the head,” and if thought contents are essential to psychological explanation, there must be narrow content. Theories have appealed to the “syntax” or conceptual roles or “characters” of internal sentences, as well as to images and stereotypes. A thought’s wide content may then be regarded (as motivated by the Kripke-Putnam arguments) as a Russellian proposition. The naturalistic reference-relations that determine the elements of such propositions are the focus of causal, “informational” and “teleological” theories by Fodor, Dretske, and Ruth Millikan. Assertability theories and conceptual role theories have been called use theories of meaning in a broad sense that marks a contrast with truthconditional theories. On a use theory in this broad sense, understanding meaning consists in knowing how to use a term or sentence, or being disposed to use a term or sentence in response to certain external or conceptual factors. But ‘use theory’ also refers to the doctrine of the later writings of Wittgenstein, by whom theories of meaning that abstract from the very large variety of interpersonal uses of language are declared a philosopher’s mistake. The meanings of terms and sentences are a matter of the language games in which they play roles; these are too various to have a common structure that can be captured in a philosopher’s theory of meaning. Conceptual role theories tend toward meaning holism, the thesis that a term’s meaning cannot be abstracted from the entirety of its conceptual connections. On a holistic view any belief or inferential connection involving a term is as much a candidate for determining its meaning as any other. This could be avoided by affirming the analytic–synthetic distinction, according to which some of a term’s conceptual connections are constitutive of its meaning and others only incidental. (‘Bachelors are unmarried’ versus ‘Bachelors have a tax advantage’.) But many philosophers follow Quine in his skepticism about that distinction. The implications of holism are drastic, for it strictly implies that different people’s words cannot mean the same. In the philosophy of science, meaning holism has been held to imply the incommensurability of theories, according to which a scientific theory that replaces an earlier theory cannot be held to contradict it and hence not to correct or to improve on it – for the two theories’ apparently common terms would be equivocal. Remedies might include, again, maintaining some sort of analytic–synthetic distinction for scientific terms, or holding that conceptual role theories and hence holism itself, as Field proposes, hold only intrapersonally, while taking interpersonal and intertheoretic meaning comparisons to be referential and truth-conditional. Even this, however, leads to difficult questions about the interpretation of scientific theories. A radical position, associated with Quine, identifies the meaning of a theory as a whole with its empirical meaning, that is, the set of actual and possible sensory or perceptual situations that would count as verifying the theory as a whole. This can be seen as a successor to the verificationist theory, with theory replacing statement or sentence. Articulations of meaning internal to a theory would then be spurious, as would virtually all ordinary intuitions about meaning. This fits well Quine’s skepticism about meaning, his thesis of the indeterminacy of translation, according to which no objective facts distinguish a favored translation of another language into ours from every apparently incorrect translation. Many constructive theories of meaning may be seen as replies to this and other skepticisms about the objective status of semantic facts. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Meaning,” H. P. Grice, “Utterer’s meaning and intentions,” H. P. Grice, “Utterer’s meaning, sentence-meaning, and word-meaning,” H. P. Grice, “Meaning revisited.”

H. P. Grice’s postulate of conversational helpfulness.

H. P. Grice’s postulate of conversational co-operation. Grice loved to botanise linguistically on ‘desideratum,’ ‘objective,’ ‘postulate,’ ‘principle.’ “My favourite seems to be ‘postulate.’” -- postŭlo , āvi, ātum, 1, v. a. posco, Which Lewis and Short render as I.to ask, demand, require, request, desire (syn.: posco, flagito, peto); constr. with aliquid, aliquid ab aliquo, aliquem aliquid, with ut (ne), de, with inf., or absol. I. In gen.: “incipiunt postulare, poscere, minari,” Cic. Verr. 2, 3, 34, § 78: “nemo inventus est tam audax, qui posceret, nemo tam impudens qui postularet ut venderet,” id. ib. 2, 4, 20, § 44; cf. Liv. 2, 45; 3, 19: “tametsi causa postulat, tamen quia postulat, non flagitat, praeteribo,” Cic. Quint. 3, 13: “postulabat autem magis quam petebat, ut, etc.,” Curt. 4, 1, 8: “dehinc postulo, sive aequom est, te oro, ut, etc.,” Ter. And. 1, 2, 19: “ita volo itaque postulo ut fiat,” id. ib. 3, 3, 18; Plaut. Aul. 4, 10, 27: “suom jus postulat,” Ter. Ad. 2, 1, 47; cf.: “aequom postulat, da veniam,” id. And. 5, 3, 30; and: “quid est? num iniquom postulo?” id. Phorm. 2, 3, 64: “nunc hic dies alios mores postulat,” id. And. 1, 2, 18: “fidem publicam,” Cic. Att. 2, 24, 2: “istud, quod postulas,” id. Rep. 1, 20, 33; id. Lael. 2, 9: “ad senatum venire auxilium postulatum,” Caes. B. G. 1, 31: “deliberandi sibi unum diem postulavit,” Cic. N. D. 1, 22, 60; cf.: “noctem sibi ad deliberandum postulavit,” id. Sest. 34, 74: “postulo abs te, ut, etc.,” Plaut. Capt. 5, 1, 18: “postulatur a te jam diu vel flagitatur potius historia,” Cic. Leg. 1, 5: “quom maxime abs te postulo atque oro, ut, etc.,” Ter. And. 5, 1, 4; and: “quidvis ab amico postulare,” Cic. Lael. 10, 35; cf. in pass.: “cum aliquid ab amicis postularetur,” id. ib.: “orationes a me duas postulas,” id. Att. 2, 7, 1: “quod principes civitatum a me postulassent,” id. Fam. 3, 8, 5; cf. infra the passages with an object-clause.—With ut (ne): “quodam modo postulat, ut, etc.,” Cic. Att. 10, 4, 2: “postulatum est, ut Bibuli sententia divideretur,” id. Fam. 1, 2, 1 (for other examples with ut, v. supra): “legatos ad Bocchum mittit postulatum, ne sine causā hostis populo Romano fieret,” Sall. J. 83, 1.—With subj. alone: “qui postularent, eos qui sibi Galliaeque bellum intulissent, sibi dederent,” Caes. B. G. 4, 16, 3.—With de: “sapientes homines a senatu de foedere postulaverunt,” Cic. Balb. 15, 34: “Ariovistus legatos ad eum mittit, quod antea de colloquio postulasset, id per se fieri licere,” Caes. B. G. 1, 42.—With inf., freq. to be rendered, to wish, like, want: qui lepide postulat alterum frustrari, Enn. ap. Gell. 18, 2, 7 (Sat. 32 Vahl.): “hic postulat se Romae absolvi, qui, etc.,” Cic. Verr. 2, 3, 60, § 138: “o facinus impudicum! quam liberam esse oporteat, servire postulare,” Plaut. Rud. 2, 3, 62; id. Men. 2, 3, 88: “me ducere istis dictis postulas?” Ter. And. 4, 1, 20; id. Eun. 1, 1, 16: “(lupinum) ne spargi quidem postulat decidens sponte,” Plin. 18, 14, 36, § 135: “si me tibi praemandere postulas,” Gell. 4, 1, 11.—With a double object: quas (sollicitudines) levare tua te prudentia postulat, demands of you, Luccei. ap. Cic. Fam. 5, 14, 2. —With nom. and inf.: “qui postulat deus credi,” Curt. 6, 11, 24.— II. In partic., in jurid. lang. A. To summon, arraign before a court, to prosecute, accuse, impeach (syn.: accuso, insimulo); constr. class. usu. with de and abl., post-Aug. also with gen.): “Gabinium tres adhuc factiones postulant: L. Lentulus, qui jam de majestate postulavit,” Cic. Q. Fr. 3, 1, 5, § 15: “aliquem apud praetorem de pecuniis repetundis,” id. Cornel. Fragm. 1: “aliquem repetundis,” Tac. A. 3, 38: “aliquem majestatis,” id. ib. 1, 74: “aliquem repetundarum,” Suet. Caes. 4: aliquem aliquā lege, Cael. ap. Cic. Fam. 8, 12, 3: “aliquem ex aliquā causā reum,” Plin. 33, 2, 8, § 33: “aliquem impietatis reum,” Plin. Ep. 7, 33, 7: “aliquem injuriarum,” Suet. Aug. 56 fin.: “aliquem capitis,” Dig. 46, 1, 53: “qui (infames) postulare prohibentur,” Paul. Sent. 1, 2, 1.— B. To demand a writ or leave to prosecute, from the prætor or other magistrate: “postulare est desiderium suum vel amici sui in jure apud eum qui jurisdictioni praeest exponere vel alterius desiderio contradicere, etc.,” Dig. 3, 1, 1; cf. “this whole section: De postulando: in aliquem delationem nominis postulare,” Cic. Div. in Caecil. 20, 64: “postulare servos in quaestionem,” id. Rosc. Am. 28, 77: “quaestionem,” Liv. 2, 29, 5.— C. For the usual expostulare, to complain of one: “quom patrem adeas postulatum,” Plaut. Bacch. 3, 3, 38 (but in id. Mil. 2, 6, 35, the correct read. is expostulare; v. Ritschl ad h. l.).—* D. Postulare votum (lit. to ask a desire, i. e.), to vow, App. Flor. init.— E. Of the seller, to demand a price, ask (post-class. for posco): “pro eis (libris) trecentos Philippeos postulasse,” Lact. 1, 6, 10; cf.: “accipe victori populus quod postulat aurum,” Juv. 7, 243. — III. Transf., of things. A. To contain, measure: “jugerum sex modios seminis postulat,” Col. 2, 9, 17.— B. To need, require: “cepina magis frequenter subactam postulat terram,” Col. 11, 3, 56.—Hence, po-stŭlātum , i, n.; usually in plur.: po-stŭlāta , ōrum, a demand, request (class.): “intolerabilia postulata,” Cic. Fam. 12, 4, 1; id. Phil. 12, 12, 28: deferre postulata alicujus ad aliquem, Caes. B. C. 1, 9: “cognoscere de postulatis alicujus,” id. B. G. 4, 11 fin.: “postulata facere,” Nep. Alcib. 8, 4.

Mechanism. A monster. But on p. 286 of WoW he speaks of mechanism, and psychological mechanism. Or rather of this or that psychological mechanism to be BENEFICIAL for a mouse that wants to eat a piece of cheese. He uses it twice, and it’s the OPERATION of the mechanism which is beneficial. So a psychophysical correspondence is desirable for the psychological mechanism to operate in a way that is beneficial for the sentient creature. Later in that essay he now applies ‘mechanism’ to communication, and he speak of a ‘communication mechanism’ being beneficial. In particular he is having in mind Davidson’s transcendental argument for the truth of the transmitted beliefs. “If all our transfers involved mistaken beliefs, it is not clear that the communication mechanism would be beneficial for the institution of ‘shared experience.’” Refs.: H. P. Grice, “My twelve labours.” mechanistic explanation, a kind of explanation countenanced by views that range from the extreme position that all natural phenomena can be explained entirely in terms of masses in motion of the sort postulated in Newtonian mechanics, to little more than a commitment to naturalistic explanations. Mechanism in its extreme form is clearly false because numerous physical phenomena of the most ordinary sort cannot be explained entirely in terms of masses in motion. Mechanics is only one small part of physics. Historically, explanations were designated as mechanistic to indicate that they included no reference to final causes or vital forces. In this weak sense, all present-day scientific explanations are mechanistic. The adequacy of mechanistic explanation is usually raised in connection with living creatures, especially those capable of deliberate action. For example, chromosomes lining up opposite their partners in preparation for meiosis looks like anything but a purely mechanical process, and yet the more we discover about the process, the more mechanistic it turns out to be. The mechanisms responsible for meiosis arose through variation and selection and cannot be totally understood without reference to the evolutionary process, but meiosis as it takes place at any one time appears to be a purely mechanistic physicochemical meaning, conceptual role theory of mechanistic explanation process. Intentional behavior is the phenomenon that is most resistant to explanation entirely in physicochemical terms. The problem is not that we do not know enough about the functioning of the central nervous system but that no matter how it turns out to work, we will be disinclined to explain human action entirely in terms of physicochemical processes. The justification for this disinclination tends to turn on what we mean when we describe people as behaving intentionally. Even so, we may simply be mistaken to ascribe more to human action than can be explained in terms of purely physicochemical processes. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Mechanism.”

meliorism: the view that the world is neither completely good nor completely bad, and that incremental progress or regress depend on human actions. By creative intelligence and education we can improve the environment and social conditions. The position is first attributed to George Eliot and William James. Whitehead suggested that meliorism applies to God, who can both improve the world and draw sustenance from human efforts to improve the world.

Melissus: Grecian philosopher, traditionally classified as a member of the Eleatic School. He was also famous as the victorious commander in a preemptive attack by the Samians on an Athenian naval force. Like Parmenides – who must have influenced Melissus, even though there is no evidence the two ever met – Melissus argues that “what-is” or “the real” cannot come into being out of nothing, cannot perish into nothing, is homogeneous, and is unchanging. Indeed, he argues explicitly (whereas Parmenides only implies) that there is only one such entity, that there is no void, and that even spatial rearrangement (metakosmesis) must be ruled out. But unlike Parmenides, Melissus deduces that what-is is temporally infinite (in significant contrast to Parmenides, regardless as to whether the latter held that what-is exists strictly in the “now” or that it exists non-temporally). Moreover, Melissus argues that what-is is spatially infinite (whereas Parmenides spoke of “bounds” and compared what-is to a well-made ball). Significantly, Melissus repeatedly speaks of “the One.” It is, then, in Melissus, more than in Parmenides or in Zeno, that we find the emphasis on monism. In a corollary to his main argument, Melissus argues that “if there were many things,” each would have to be – per impossibile – exactly like “the One.” This remark has been interpreted as issuing the challenge that was taken up by the atomists. But it is more reasonable to read it as a philosophical strategist’s preemptive strike: Melissus anticipates the move made in the pluralist systems of the second half of the fifth century, viz., positing a plurality of eternal and unchanging elements that undergo only spatial rearrangement.

Grice’s memory – Grice on temporary mnemonic state. Grice remembers. Grice reminisces. "someone hears a noise"  iff  "a (past) hearing of a nose is an elemnent in a total temporary state which is a member of a series of total temporary statess such that every member of the series would, given certain conditions, contain as al element a MEMORY of some EXPERIENCE which is an element in some previous member OR  contains as an element some experience a memory of which would, given certain conditions, occur as an element in some subsequent member;  there being no subject of members which is independent from all the rest." The retention of, or the capacity to retain, past experience or previously acquired information. There are two main philosophical questions about memory: (1) In what does memory consist? and (2) What constitutes knowing a fact on the basis of memory? Not all memory is remembering facts: there is remembering one’s perceiving or feeling or acting in a certain way – which, while it entails remembering the fact that one did experience in that way, must be more than that. And not all remembering of facts is knowledge of facts: an extremely hesitant attempt to remember an address, if one gets it right, counts as remembering the address even if one is too uncertain for this to count as knowing it. (1) Answers to the first question agree on some obvious points: that memory requires (a) a present and (b) a past state of, or event in, the subject, and (c) the right sort of internal and causal relations between the two. Also, we must distinguish between memory states (remembering for many years the name of one’s first-grade teacher) and memory occurrences (recalling the name when asked). A memory state is usually taken to be a disposition to display an appropriate memory occurrence given a suitable stimulus. But philosophers disagree about further specifics. On one theory (held by many empiricists from Hume to Russell, among others, but now largely discredited), occurrent memory consists in images of past experience (which have a special quality marking them as memory images) and that memory of facts is read off such image memory. This overlooks the point that people commonly remember facts without remembering when or how they learned them. A more sophisticated theory of factual memory (popular nowadays) holds that an occurrent memory of a fact requires, besides a past learning of it, (i) some sort of present mental representation of it (perhaps a linguistic one) and (ii) continuous storage between then and now of a representation of it. But condition (i) may not be conceptually necessary: a disposition to dial the right number when one wants to call home constitutes remembering the number (provided it is appropriately linked causally to past learning of the number) and manifesting that disposition is occurrently remembering the fact as to what the number is even if one does not in the process mentally represent that fact. Condition (ii) may also be too strong: it seems at least conceptually possible that a causal link sufficient for memory should be secured by a relation that does not involve anything continuous between the relevant past and present occurrences (in The Analysis of Mind, Russell countenanced this possibility and called it “mnemic causation”). (2) What must be added to remembering that p to get a case of knowing it because one remembers it? We saw that one must not be uncertain that p. Must one also have grounds for trusting one’s memory impression (its seeming to one that one remembers) that p? How could one have such grounds except by knowing them on the basis of memory? The facts one can know not on the basis of memory are limited at most to what one presently perceives and what one presently finds self-evident. If no memory belief qualifies as knowledge unless it is supported by memory knowledge of the reliability of one’s memory, then the process of qualifying as memory knowledge cannot succeed: there would be an endless chain, or loop, of facts – this belief is memory knowledge if and only if this other belief is, which is if and only if this other one is, and so on – which never becomes a set that entails that any belief is memory knowledge. On the basis of such reasoning a skeptic might deny the possibility of memory knowledge. We may avoid this consequence without going to the lax extreme of allowing that any correct memory impression is knowledge; we can impose the (frequently satisfied) requirement that one not have reasons specific to the particular case for believing that one’s memory impression might be unreliable. Finally, remembering that p becomes memory knowledge that p only if one believes that p because it seems to one that one remembers it. One might remember that p and confidently believe that p, but if one has no memory impression of having previously learned it, or one has such an impression but does not trust it and believes that p only for other reasons (or no reason), then one should not be counted as knowing that p on the basis of memory. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Memory and personal identity.” H. P. Grice, “Benjamin on Broad on ‘remembering’”

Mentatum -- mens rea versus mens casta – actus reus versus actus castus -- One of the two main prerequisites, along with “actus reus” for prima facie liability to criminal punishment in the English legal systems. To be punishable in such systems, one must not only have performed a legally prohibited action, such as killing another human being; one must have done so with a culpable state of mind, or mens rea. Such culpable mental states are of three kinds: they are either motivational states of purpose, cognitive states of belief, or the non-mental state of negligence. To illustrate each of these with respect to the act of killing: a killer may kill either having another’s death as ultimate purpose, or as mediate purpose on the way to achieving some further, ultimate end. Alternatively, the killer may act believing to a practical certainty that his act will result in another’s death, even though such death is an unwanted side effect, or he may believe that there is a substantial and unjustified risk that his act will cause another’s death. The actor may also be only negligent, which is to take an unreasonable risk of another’s death even if the actor is not aware either of such risk or of the lack of justification for taking it. Mens rea usually does not have to do with any awareness by the actor that the act done is either morally wrong or legally prohibited. Neither does mens rea have to do with any emotional state of guilt or remorse, either while one is acting or afterward. Sometimes in its older usages the term is taken to include the absence of excuses as well as the mental states necessary for prima facie liability; in such a usage, the requirement is helpfully labeled “general mens rea,” and the requirement above discussed is labeled “special mens rea.” “Mentalese” – Grice on ‘modest mentalism’ -- the language of thought (the title of an essay by Fodor) or of “brain writing” (a term of Dennett’s); specifically, a languagelike medium of representation in which the contents of mental events are supposedly expressed or recorded. (The term was probably coined by Wilfrid Sellars, with whose views it was first associated.) If what one believes are propositions, then it is tempting to propose that believing something is having the Mentalese expression of that proposition somehow written in the relevant place in one’s mind or brain. Thinking a thought, at least on those occasions when we think “wordlessly” (without formulating our thoughts in sentences or phrases composed of words of a public language), thus appears to be a matter of creating a short-lived Mentalese expression in a special arena or work space in the mind. In a further application of the concept, the process of coming to understand a sentence of natural language can be viewed as one of translating the sentence into Mentalese. It has often been argued that this view of understanding only postpones the difficult questions of meaning, for it leaves unanswered the question of how Mentalese expressions come to have the meanings they do. There have been frequent attempts to develop versions of the hypothesis that mental activity is conducted in Mentalese, and just as frequent criticisms of these attempts. Some critics deny there is anything properly called representation in the mind or brain at all; others claim that the system of representation used by the brain is not enough like a natural language to be called a language. Even among defenders of Mentalese, it has seldom been claimed that all brains “speak” the same Mentalese.  mentalism: Cfr. ‘psychism,’ animism.’ ‘spiritualism,’ cfr. Grice’s modest mentalism; any theory that posits explicitly mental events and processes, where ‘mental’ means exhibiting intentionality, not necessarily being immaterial or non-physical. A mentalistic theory is couched in terms of belief, desire, thinking, feeling, hoping, etc. A scrupulously non-mentalistic theory would be couched entirely in extensional terms: it would refer only to behavior or to neurophysiological states and events. The attack on mentalism by behaviorists was led by B. F. Skinner, whose criticisms did not all depend on the assumption that mentalists were dualists, and the subsequent rise of cognitive science has restored a sort of mentalism (a “thoroughly modern mentalism,” as Fodor has called it) that is explicitly materialistic. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Myro’s modest mentalism. mentatum: Grice prefers psi-transmission. He knows that ‘mentatum’ sounds too much like ‘mind,’ and the mind is part of the ‘rational soul,’ not even encompassing the rational pratical soul. If perhaps Grice was unhappy about the artificial flavour to saying that a word is a sign, Grice surely should have checked with all the Grecian-Roman cognates of mean, as in his favourite memorative-memorable distinction, and the many Grecian realisations, or with Old Roman mentire and mentare. Lewis and Short have “mentĭor,” f. mentire, L and S note, is prob. from root men-, whence mens and memini, q. v. The original meaning, they say, is to invent,  hence, but alla Umberto Eco with sign, mentire comes to mean in later use what Grice (if not the Grecians) holds is the opposite of mean. Short and Lewis render mentire as to lie, cheat, deceive, etc., to pretend, to declare falsely: mentior nisi or si mentior, a form of asseveration, I am a liar, if, etc.: But also, animistically (modest mentalism?) of things, as endowed with a mind. L and S go on: to deceive, impose upon, to deceive ones self, mistake, to lie or speak falsely about, to assert falsely, make a false promise about; to feign, counterfeit, imitate a shape, nature, etc.: to devise a falsehood,  to assume falsely,  to promise falsely, to invent, feign, of a poetical fiction: “ita mentitur (sc. Homerus),  Trop., of inanim. grammatical Subjects, as in Semel fac illud, mentitur tua quod subinde tussis, Do what your cough keeps falsely promising, i. e. die, Mart. 5, 39, 6. Do what your cough means! =imp. die!; hence, mentĭens,  a fallacy, sophism: quomodo mentientem, quem ψευδόμενον vocant, dissolvas;” mentītus, imitated, counterfeit, feigned (poet.): “mentita tela;” For “mentior,” indeed, there is a Griceian implicaturum involving rational control. The rendition of mentire as to lie stems from a figurative shift from to be mindful, or inventive, to have second thoughts" to "to lie, conjure up". But Grice would also have a look at cognate “memini,” since this is also cognate with “mind,” “mens,” and covers subtler instances of mean, as in Latinate, “mention,” as in Grices “use-mention” distinction. mĕmĭni, cognate with "mean" and German "meinen," to think = Grecian ὑπομένειν, await (cf. Schiffer, "remnants of meaning," if I think, I hesitate, and therefore re-main, cf. Grecian μεν- in μένω, Μέντωρ; μαν- in μαίνομαι, μάντις; μνᾶ- in μιμνήσκω, etc.; cf.: maneo, or manere, as in remain. The idea, as Schiffer well knows or means, being that if you think, you hesitate, and therefore, wait and remain], moneo, reminiscor [cf. reminiscence], mens, Minerva, etc. which L and S render as “to remember, recollect, to think of, be mindful of a thing; not to have forgotten a person or thing, to bear in mind (syn.: reminiscor, recordor).” Surely with a relative clause, and to make mention of, to mention a thing, either in speaking or writing (rare but class.). Hence. mĕmĭnens, mindful And then Grice would have a look at moneo, as in adMONish, also cognate is “mŏnĕo,” monere, causative from the root "men;" whence memini, q. v., mens (mind), mentio (mention); lit. to cause to think, to re-mind, put in mind of, bring to ones recollection; to admonish, advise, warn, instruct, teach (syn.: hortor, suadeo, doceo). L and S are Griceian if not Grecian when they note that ‘monere’ can be used "without the accessory notion [implicaturum or entanglement, that is] of reminding or admonishing, in gen., to teach, instruct, tell, inform, point out; also, to announce, predict, foretell, even if also to punish, chastise (only in Tacitus): “puerili verbere moneri.” And surely, since he loved to re-minisced, Grice would have allowed to just earlier on just minisced. Short and Lewis indeed have rĕmĭniscor, which, as they point out, features the root men; whence mens, memini; and which they compare to comminiscere, v. comminiscor, to recall to mind, recollect, remember (syn. recordor), often used by the Old Romans  with with Grices beloved that-clause, for sure. For what is the good of reminiscing or comminiscing, if you cannot reminisce that Austin always reminded Grice that skipping the dictionary was his big mistake! If Grice uses mention, cognate with mean, he loved commenting Aristotle. And commentare is, again, cognate with mean. As opposed to the development of the root in Grecian, or English, in Roman the root for mens is quite represented in many Latinate cognates. But a Roman, if not a Grecian, would perhaps be puzzled by a Grice claiming, by intuition, to retrieve the necessary and sufficient conditions for the use of this or that expression. When the Roman is told that the Griceian did it for fun, he understands, and joins in the fun! Indeed, hardly a natural kind in the architecture of the world, but one that fascinated Grice and the Grecian philosophers before him! Communication.

mereologicum:: The mereological implicaturum. Grice. "In a burst of inspiration, Leśniewski coins "mereology" on a Tuesday evening in March 1927, from the Grecian "μέρος," Polish for "part." From Leśniewski's Journal -- translation from the Polish by Grice: "Dear Anne, I have just coined a word. MEREOLOGY. I want to refer to a FORMA, not informal as in Husserl, which is in German, anyway (his section, "On the whole and the parts") theory of part-whole. I hope you love it! Love, L. --- "Leśniewski's tutee, another Pole, Alfred Tarski, in his Appendix E to Woodger oversimplified, out of envey's Leśniewski's formalism." "But then more loyal tutees (and tutees of tutees) of Lesniewski elaborated this "Polish mereology." "For a good selection of the literature on Polish mereology, see Srzednicki and Rickey (1984). For a survey of Polish mereology, see Simons (1987). Since 1980 or so, however, research on Polish mereology has been almost entirely historical in nature." Which is just as well. The theory of the totum and the pars. -- parts. Typically, a mereological theory employs notions such as the following: “proper part,” “mproper part,” “overlapping” (having a part in common), disjoint (not overlapping), mereological product (the “intersection” of overlapping objects), mereological sum (a collection of parts), mereological difference, the universal sum, mereological complement, and atom (that which has no proper parts). A formal mereology is an axiomatic system. Goodman’s “Calculus of Individuals” is compatible with Nominalism, i.e., no reference is made to sets, properties, or any other abstract entity. Goodman hopes that his mereology, with its many parallels to set theory, may provide an alternative to set theory as a foundation for mathematics. Fundamental and controversial implications of Goodman’s theories include their extensionality and collectivism. An extensional theory implies that for any individuals, x and y, x % y provided x and y have the same proper parts. One reason extensionality is controversial is that it rules out an object’s acquiring or losing a part, and therefore is inconsistent with commonsense beliefs such as that a car has a new tire or that a table has lost a sliver of wood. A second reason for controversy is that extensionality is incompatible with the belief that a statue and the piece of bronze of which it is made have the same parts and yet are diverse objects. Collectivism implies that any individuals, no matter how scattered, have a mereological sum or constitute an object. Moreover, according to collectivism, assembling or disassembling parts does not affect the existence of things, i.e., nothing is created or destroyed by assembly or disassembly, respectively. Thus, collectivism is incompatible with commonsense beliefs such as that when a watch is disassembled, it is destroyed, or that when certain parts are assembled, a watch is created. Because the aforementioned formal theories shun modality, they lack the resources to express the thesis that a whole has each of its parts necessarily. This thesis of mereological essentialism has recently been defended by Roderick Chisholm.

meritum, a meritarian is one who asserts the relevance of individual merit, as an independent justificatory condition, in attempts to design social structures or distribute goods. ‘Meritarianism’ is a recently coined term in social and political philosophy, closely related to ‘meritocracy’, and used to identify a range of related concerns that supplement or oppose egalitarian, utilitarian, and contractarian principles and principles based on entitlement, right, interest, and need, among others. For example, one can have a pressing need for an Olympic medal but not merit it; one can have the money to buy a masterpiece but not be worthy of it; one can have the right to a certain benefit but not deserve it. Meritarians assert that considerations of desert are always relevant and sometimes decisive in such cases. What counts as merit, and how important should it be in moral, social, and political decisions? Answers to these questions serve to distinguish one meritarian from another, and sometimes to blur the distinctions between the meritarian position and others. Merit may refer to any of these: comparative rank, capacities, abilities, effort, intention, or achievement. Moreover, there is a relevance condition to be met: to say that highest honors in a race should go to the most deserving is presumably to say that the honors should go to those with the relevant sort of merit – speed, e.g., rather than grace. Further, meritarians may differ about the strength of the merit principle, and how various political or social structures should be influenced by it.

meritocracy, in ordinary usage, a system in which advancement is based on ability and achievement, or one in which leadership roles are held by talented achievers. The term may also refer to an elite group of talented achievers. In philosophical usage, the term’s meaning is similar: a meritocracy is a scheme of social organization in which essential offices, and perhaps careers and jobs of all sorts are (a) open only to those who have the relevant qualifications for successful performance in them, or (b) awarded only to the candidates who are likely to perform the best, or (c) managed so that people advance in and retain their offices and jobs solely on the basis of the quality of their performance in them, or (d) all of the above.

merton: merton holds a portrait of H. P. Grice. And the association is closer. Grice was sometime Harmsworth Scholar at Merton. It was at Merton he got the acquaintance with S. Watson, later historian at St. John’s. Merton is the see of the Sub-Faculty of Philosophy. What does that mean? It means that the Lit. Hum. covers more than philosophy. Grice was Lit. Hum. (Phil.), which means that his focus was on this ‘sub-faculty.’ The faculty itself is for Lit. Hum. in general, and it is not held anywhere specifically. Grice loved Ryle’s games with this:: “Oxford is a universale, with St. John’s being a particulare which can become your sense-datum.’

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

object-language/meta-language distinction, the: Grice: “The use of ‘object’ in ‘object-language’ is utterly inappropriate and coined by someone who had no idea of philosophy!” – And ‘meta-language’ is a horrible hybrid.” “Meta-logic,” or “meta-semantic,” may do better, as opposed to ‘logic’ or ‘seemantic’ simpliciter.  meta-language: versus object-language – where Russell actually means thing-language (German: meta-sprache und ding-sprache). In formal semantics, a language used to describe another language (the object language). The object language may be either a natural language or a formal language. The goal of a formal semantic theory is to provide an axiomatic or otherwise systematic theory of meaning for the object language. The metalanguage is used to specify the object language’s symbols and formation rules, which determine its grammatical sentences or well-formed formulas, and to assign meanings or interpretations to these sentences or formulas. For example, in an extensional semantics, the metalanguage is used to assign denotations to the singular terms, extensions to the general terms, and truth conditions to sentences. The standard format for assigning truth conditions, as in Tarski’s formulation of his “semantical conception of truth,” is a T-sentence, which takes the form ‘S is true if and only if p.’ Davidson adapted this format to the purposes of his truth-theoretic account of meaning. Examples of T-sentences, with English as the metalanguage, are ‘ “La neige est blanche” is true if and only if snow is white’, where the object langauge is French and the homophonic (Davidson) ‘“Snow is white” is true if and only if snow is white’, where the object language is English as well. Although for formal purposes the distinction between metalanguage and object language must be maintained, in practice one can use a langauge to talk about expressions in the very same language. One can, in Carnap’s terms, shift 4065m-r.qxd 08/02/1999 7:42 AM Page 560 from the material mode to the formal mode, e.g. from ‘Every veterinarian is an animal doctor’ to ‘ “Veterinarian” means “animal doctor”.’ This shift is important in discussions of synonymy and of the analytic–synthetic distinction. Carnap’s distinction corresponds to the use–mention distinction. We are speaking in the formal mode – we are mentioning a linguistic expression – when we ascribe a property to a word or other expression type, such as its spelling, pronunciation, meaning, or grammatical category, or when we speak of an expression token as misspelled, mispronounced, or misused. We are speaking in the material mode when we say “Reims is hard to find” but in the formal mode when we say “ ‘Reims’ is hard to pronounce.”

trvium – versus quadrivium -- riviality: Grice: “Austin once confessed that he felt it was unworthy of a philosopher to spend his time on trivialities, but what was he to do?” –

metaosiosis – cited by Grice, one of his metaphysical routines. transubstantiation, change of one substance into another. Aristotelian metaphysics distinguishes between substances and the accidents that inhere in them; thus, Socrates is a substance and being snub-nosed is one of his accidents. The Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox churches appeal to transubstantiation to explain how Jesus Christ becomes really present in the Eucharist when the consecration takes place: the whole substances of the bread and wine are transformed into the body and blood of Christ, but the accidents of the bread and wine such as their shape, color, and taste persist after the transformation. This seems to commit its adherents to holding that these persisting accidents subsequently either inhere in Christ or do not inhere in any substance. Luther proposed an alternative explanation in terms of consubstantiation that avoids this hard choice: the substances of the bread and wine coexist in the Eucharist with the body and blood of Christ after the consecration; they are united but each remains unchanged. P.L.Q. transvaluation of values.

Metaphilosophy: Grice, “I shall distinguish: philosophy, metaphilosophy, and Austin’s favourite, para-philosophy” -- the theory of the nature of philosophy, especially its goals, methods, and fundamental assumptions. First-order philosophical inquiry includes such disciplines as epistemology, ontology, ethics, and value theory. It thus constitutes the main activity of philosophers, past and present. The philosophical study of firstorder philosophical inquiry raises philosophical inquiry to a higher order. Such higher-order inquiry is metaphilosophy. The first-order philosophical discipline of (e.g.) epistemology has the nature of knowledge as its main focus, but that discipline can itself be the focus of higher-order philosophical inquiry. The latter focus yields a species of metaphilosophy called metaepistemology. Two other prominent species are metaethics and metaontology. Each such branch of metaphilosophy studies the goals, methods, and fundamental assumptions of a first-order philosophical discipline. Typical metaphilosophical topics include (a) the conditions under which a claim is philosophical rather than non-philosophical, and (b) the conditions under which a first-order philosophical claim is either meaningful, true, or warranted. Metaepistemology, e.g., pursues not the nature of knowledge directly, but rather the conditions under which claims are genuinely epistemological and the conditions under which epistemological claims are either meaningful, or true, or warranted. The distinction between philosophy and metaphilosophy has an analogue in the familiar distinction between mathematics and metamathematics. Questions about the autonomy, objectivity, relativity, and modal status of philosophical claims arise in metaphilosophy. Questions about autonomy concern the relationship of philosophy to such disciplines as those constituting the natural and social sciences. For instance, is philosophy methodologically independent of the natural sciences? Questions about objectivity and relativity concern the kind of truth and warrant available to philosophical claims. For instance, are philosophical truths characteristically, or ever, made true by mind-independent phenomena in the way that typical claims of the natural sciences supposedly are? Or, are philosophical truths unavoidably conventional, being fully determined by (and thus altogether relative to) linguistic conventions? Are they analytic rather than synthetic truths, and is knowledge of them a priori rather than a posteriori? Questions about modal status consider whether philosophical claims are necessary rather than contingent. Are philosophical claims necessarily true or false, in contrast to the contingent claims of the natural sciences? The foregoing questions identify major areas of controversy in contemporary metaphilosophy.

metaphoricum implicaturum: Grice made a dictionary of figures of rhetoric – from A to Z.

accumulation: Grice, “As its name implies, this is the utterer accumulating arguments in a concise forceful manner.”

adnomination: Grice: As the name implies, this is the repetition of words with the same root word.

alliteration: Grice: “As the name implies, this is a device, where a series of words in a row have the same first consonant sound. It was quite used by my ancestors – they called it ‘head-rhyme.’” Example: "She sells sea shells by the sea shore".

Adynaton: Grice: “This is almost like Hyperbole, as in the ditty, “Every nice girl loves a sailor.” It is an extreme exaggeration used to make a point. It is like the opposite of "understatement". Example: "I've told you a million times."

anacoluthon: Grice, as the name implies, this is a Transposition of clauses to achieve an unnatural (or non-natural) order in a sentence. “Join them, if you can’t beat’em.”

anadiplosis: Repetition of a word at the end of a clause and then at the beginning of its succeeding clause. anaphora: Repetition of the same word or set of words in a paragraph.

anastrophe: Grice: As the name implies this Changing the object, subject and verb order in a clause, as in “Me loves she,” as uttered by Tarzan.

anti-climax: It is when a specific point, expectations are raised, everything is built-up and then suddenly something boring or disappointing happens. Example: "People, pets, batteries, ... all are dead."

anthimeria: Transformation of a word of a certain word class to another word class.

antimetabole: A sentence consisting of the repetition of words in successive clauses, but in reverse order.

antirrhesis: Disproving an opponent's argument. antistrophe: Repetition of the same word or group of words in a paragraph in the end of sentences. antithesis: Juxtaposition of opposing or contrasting ideas.

aphorismus: Statement that calls into question the definition of a word. aposiopesis: Breaking off or pausing speech for dramatic or emotional effect. apposition: Placing of two statements side by side, in which the second defines the first. assonance: Repetition of vowel sounds: "Smooth move!" or "Please leave!" or "That's the fact Jack!"

asteismus: Mocking answer or humorous answer that plays on a word.

asterismos: Beginning a segment of speech with an exclamation of a word. asyndeton: Omission of conjunctions between related clauses. cacophony: Words producing a harsh sound. cataphora: Co-reference of one expression with another expression which follows it, in which the latter defines the first. (example: If you need one, there's a towel in the top drawer.) classification: Linking a proper noun and a common noun with an article chiasmus: Two or more clauses are related to each other through a reversal of structures in order to make a larger point climax: Arrangement of words in order of descending to ascending order. commoratio: Repetition of an idea, re-worded conduplicatio: Repetition of a key word conversion (word formation): An unaltered transformation of a word of one word class into another word class consonance: Repetition of consonant sounds, most commonly within a short passage of verse correlative verse: Matching items in two sequences diacope: Repetition of a word or phrase with one or two intervening words dubitatio: Expressing doubt and uncertainty about oneself dystmesis: A synonym for tmesis ellipsis: Omission of words elision: Omission of one or more letters in speech, making it colloquial enallage: Wording ignoring grammatical rules or conventions enjambment: Incomplete sentences at the end of lines in poetry enthymeme: An informal syllogism epanalepsis: Ending sentences with their beginning. epanodos: Word repetition. epistrophe: (also known as antistrophe) Repetition of the same word or group of words at the end of successive clauses. The counterpart of anaphora epizeuxis: Repetition of a single word, with no other words in between euphony: Opposite of cacophony – i.e. pleasant-sounding half rhyme: Partially rhyming words hendiadys: Use of two nouns to express an idea when it normally would consist of an adjective and a noun hendiatris: Use of three nouns to express one idea homeoptoton: ending the last parts of words with the same syllable or letter. homographs: Words we write identically but which have a differing meaning homoioteleuton: Multiple words with the same ending homonyms: Words that are identical with each other in pronunciation and spelling, but different in meaning homophones: Words that are identical with each other in pronunciation, but different in meaning homeoteleuton: Words with the same ending hypallage: A transferred epithet from a conventional choice of wording.hyperbaton: Two ordinary associated words are detached. The term may also be used more generally for all different figures of speech which transpose natural word order in sentences.[13] hyperbole: Exaggeration of a statement hypozeuxis: Every clause having its own independent subject and predicate hysteron proteron: The inversion of the usual temporal or causal order between two elements isocolon: Use of parallel structures of the same length in successive clauses internal rhyme: Using two or more rhyming words in the same sentence kenning: Using a compound word neologism to form a metonym litotes derived from a Greek word meaning "simple", is a figure of speech which employs an understatement by using double negatives or, in other words, positive statement is expressed by negating its opposite expressions. Examples: "not too bad" for "very good" is an understatement as well as a double negative statement that confirms a positive idea by negating the opposite. Similarly, saying "She is not a beauty queen," means "She is ugly" or saying "I am not as young as I used to be" in order to avoid saying "I am old". Litotes, therefore, is an intentional use of understatement that renders an ironical effect. merism: Referring to a whole by enumerating some of its parts mimesis: Imitation of a person's speech or writing onomatopoeia: Word that imitates a real sound (e.g. tick-tock or boom) paradiastole: Repetition of the disjunctive pair "neither" and "nor" parallelism: The use of similar structures in two or more clauses paraprosdokian: Unexpected ending or truncation of a clause paremvolia: Interference of speak by speakingparenthesis: A parenthetical entry paroemion: Alliteration in which every word in a sentence or phrase begins with the same letter parrhesia: Speaking openly or boldly, in a situation where it is unexpected (e.g. politics) pleonasm: The use of more words than are needed to express meaning polyptoton: Repetition of words derived from the same root polysyndeton: Close repetition of conjunctions pun: When a word or phrase is used in two (or more) different senses rhythm: A synonym for parallelism sibilance: Repetition of letter 's', it is a form of consonance sine dicendo: An inherently superfluous statement, the truth value of which can easily be taken for granted. When held under scrutiny, it becomes readily apparent that the statement has not in fact added any new or useful information to the conversation (e.g. 'It's always in the last place you look.') solecism: Trespassing grammatical and syntactical rules spoonerism: Switching place of syllables within two words in a sentence yielding amusement superlative: Declaring something the best within its class i.e. the ugliest, the most precious synathroesmus: Agglomeration of adjectives to describe something or someone syncope: Omission of parts of a word or phrase symploce: Simultaneous use of anaphora and epistrophe: the repetition of the same word or group of words at the beginning and the end of successive clauses synchysis: Words that are intentionally scattered to create perplexment synesis: Agreement of words according to the sense, and not the grammatical form synecdoche: Referring to a part by its whole or vice versa synonymia: Use of two or more synonyms in the same clause or sentence tautology: Redundancy due to superfluous qualification; saying the same thing twice tmesis: Insertions of content within a compound word zeugma: The using of one verb for two or more actions Tropes accismus: expressing the want of something by denying it[16] allegory: A metaphoric narrative in which the literal elements indirectly reveal a parallel story of symbolic or abstract significance.allusion: Covert reference to another work of literature or art ambiguity: Phrasing which can have two meanings anacoenosis: Posing a question to an audience, often with the implication that it shares a common interest with the speaker analogy: A comparison anapodoton: Leaving a common known saying unfinished antanaclasis: A form of pun in which a word is repeated in two different senses.[20] anthimeria: A substitution of one part of speech for another, such as noun for a verb and vice versa.[21] anthropomorphism: Ascribing human characteristics to something that is not human, such as an animal or a god (see zoomorphism) antimetabole: Repetition of words in successive clauses, but in switched order antiphrasis: A name or a phrase used ironically. antistasis: Repetition of a word in a different sense. antonomasia: Substitution of a proper name for a phrase or vice versa a: Briefly phrased, easily memorable statement of a truth or opinion, an adage apologia: Justifying one's actions aporia: Faked or sincere puzzled questioning apophasis: (Invoking) an idea by denying its (invocation) appositive: Insertion of a parenthetical entry apostrophe: Directing the attention away from the audience to an absent third party, often in the form of a personified abstraction or inanimate object. archaism: Use of an obsolete, archaic word (a word used in olden language, e.g. Shakespeare's language) auxesis: Form of hyperbole, in which a more important-sounding word is used in place of a more descriptive term bathos: Pompous speech with a ludicrously mundane worded anti-climax burlesque metaphor: An amusing, overstated or grotesque comparison or example. catachresis: Blatant misuse of words or phrases. cataphora: Repetition of a cohesive device at the end categoria: Candidly revealing an opponent's weakness cliché: Overused phrase or theme circumlocution: Talking around a topic by substituting or adding words, as in euphemism or periphrasis congeries: Accumulation of synonymous or different words or phrases together forming a single message correctio: Linguistic device used for correcting one's mistakes, a form of which is epanorthosis dehortatio: discouraging advice given with seeming sagacity denominatio: Another word for metonymy diatyposis: The act of giving counsel double negative: Grammar construction that can be used as an expression and it is the repetition of negative words dirimens copulatio: Balances one statement with a contrary, qualifying statement[22] distinctio: Defining or specifying the meaning of a word or phrase you use dysphemism: Substitution of a harsher, more offensive, or more disagreeable term for another. Opposite of euphemism dubitatio: Expressing doubt over one's ability to hold speeches, or doubt over other ability ekphrasis: Lively describing something you see, often a painting epanorthosis: Immediate and emphatic self-correction, often following a slip of the tongue encomium: A speech consisting of praise; a eulogy enumeratio: A sort of amplification and accumulation in which specific aspects are added up to make a point epicrisis: Mentioning a saying and then commenting on it epiplexis: Rhetorical question displaying disapproval or debunks epitrope: Initially pretending to agree with an opposing debater or invite one to do something erotema: Synonym for rhetorical question erotesis: Rhetorical question asked in confident expectation of a negative answer euphemism: Substitution of a less offensive or more agreeable term for another grandiloquence: Pompous speech exclamation: A loud calling or crying out humour: Provoking laughter and providing amusement hyperbaton: Words that naturally belong together separated from each other for emphasis or effect hyperbole: Use of exaggerated terms for emphasis hypocatastasis: An implication or declaration of resemblance that does not directly name both terms hypophora: Answering one's own rhetorical question at length hysteron proteron: Reversal of anticipated order of events; a form of hyperbaton innuendo: Having a hidden meaning in a sentence that makes sense whether it is detected or not inversion: A reversal of normal word order, especially the placement of a verb ahead of the subject (subject-verb inversion). irony: Use of word in a way that conveys a meaning opposite to its usual meaning.[23] litotes: Emphasizing the magnitude of a statement by denying its opposite malapropism: Using a word through confusion with a word that sounds similar meiosis: Use of understatement, usually to diminish the importance of something memento verbum: Word at the top of the tongue, recordabantur merism: Referring to a whole by enumerating some of its parts metalepsis: Figurative speech is used in a new context metaphor: An implied comparison between two things, attributing the properties of one thing to another that it does not literally possess.[24] metonymy: A thing or concept is called not by its own name but rather by the name of something associated in meaning with that thing or concept neologism: The use of a word or term that has recently been created, or has been in use for a short time. Opposite of archaism non sequitur: Statement that bears no relationship to the context preceding occupatio see apophasis: Mentioning something by reportedly not mentioning it onomatopoeia: Words that sound like their meaning oxymoron: Using two terms together, that normally contradict each other par'hyponoian: Replacing in a phrase or text a second part, that would have been logically expected. parable: Extended metaphor told as an anecdote to illustrate or teach a moral lesson paradiastole: Extenuating a vice in order to flatter or soothe paradox: Use of apparently contradictory ideas to point out some underlying truth paraprosdokian: Phrase in which the latter part causes a rethinking or reframing of the beginning paralipsis: Drawing attention to something while pretending to pass it over parody: Humouristic imitation paronomasia: Pun, in which similar-sounding words but words having a different meaning are used pathetic fallacy: Ascribing human conduct and feelings to nature periphrasis: A synonym for circumlocution personification/prosopopoeia/anthropomorphism: Attributing or applying human qualities to inanimate objects, animals, or natural phenomena pleonasm: The use of more words than is necessary for clear expression praeteritio: Another word for paralipsis procatalepsis: Refuting anticipated objections as part of the main argument proslepsis: Extreme form of paralipsis in which the speaker provides great detail while feigning to pass over a topic prothesis: Adding a syllable to the beginning of a word proverb: Succinct or pithy, often metaphorical, expression of wisdom commonly believed to be true pun: Play on words that will have two meanings rhetorical question: Asking a question as a way of asserting something. Asking a question which already has the answer hidden in it. Or asking a question not for the sake of getting an answer but for asserting something (or as in a poem for creating a poetic effect) satire: Humoristic criticism of society sensory detail imagery: sight, sound, taste, touch, smell sesquipedalianism: use of long and obscure words simile: Comparison between two things using like or as snowclone: Alteration of cliché or phrasal template style: how information is presented superlative: Saying that something is the best of something or has the most of some quality, e.g. the ugliest, the most precious etc. syllepsis: The use of a word in its figurative and literal sense at the same time or a single word used in relation to two other parts of a sentence although the word grammatically or logically applies to only one syncatabasis (condescension, accommodation): adaptation of style to the level of the audience synchoresis: A concession made for the purpose of retorting with greater force. synecdoche: Form of metonymy, referring to a part by its whole, or a whole by its part synesthesia: Description of one kind of sense impression by using words that normally describe another. tautology: Superfluous repetition of the same sense in different words Example: The children gathered in a round circle transferred epithet: A synonym for hypallage. truism: a self-evident statement tricolon diminuens: Combination of three elements, each decreasing in size tricolon crescens: Combination of three elements, each increasing in size verbal paradox: Paradox specified to language verba ex ore: Taking the words out of someone’s mouth, speaking of what the interlocutor wanted to say.[14] verbum volitans: A word that floats in the air, on which everyone is thinking and is just about to be imposed.[14] zeugma: Use of a single verb to describe two or more actions zoomorphism: Applying animal characteristics to humans or gods. Refs. Holdcroft: “Grice on indirect communication,” Journal of Rhetoric.”

Fallacia – Grice compilied a “Fallaciae: A to Z.” Formal fallacies Main article: Formal fallacy A formal fallacy is an error in logic that can be seen in the argument's form.[4] All formal fallacies are specific types of non sequitur.  Appeal to probability – a statement that takes something for granted because it would probably be the case (or might be the case).[5][6] Argument from fallacy (also known as the fallacy fallacy) – the assumption that if an argument for some conclusion is fallacious, then the conclusion is false.[7] Base rate fallacy – making a probability judgment based on conditional probabilities, without taking into account the effect of prior probabilities.[8] Conjunction fallacy – the assumption that an outcome simultaneously satisfying multiple conditions is more probable than an outcome satisfying a single one of them.[9] Masked-man fallacy (illicit substitution of identicals) – the substitution of identical designators in a true statement can lead to a false one.[10] Propositional fallacies A propositional fallacy is an error in logic that concerns compound propositions. For a compound proposition to be true, the truth values of its constituent parts must satisfy the relevant logical connectives that occur in it (most commonly: [and], [or], [not], [only if], [if and only if]). The following fallacies involve inferences whose correctness is not guaranteed by the behavior of those logical connectives and are not logically guaranteed to yield true conclusions. Types of propositional fallacies:  Affirming a disjunct – concluding that one disjunct of a logical disjunction must be false because the other disjunct is true; A or B; A, therefore not B.[11] Affirming the consequent – the antecedent in an indicative conditional is claimed to be true because the consequent is true; if A, then B; B, therefore A.[11] Denying the antecedent – the consequent in an indicative conditional is claimed to be false because the antecedent is false; if A, then B; not A, therefore not B.[11] Quantification fallacies A quantification fallacy is an error in logic where the quantifiers of the premises are in contradiction to the quantifier of the conclusion. Types of quantification fallacies:  Existential fallacy – an argument that has a universal premise and a particular conclusion.[12] Formal syllogistic fallacies Syllogistic fallacies – logical fallacies that occur in syllogisms.  Affirmative conclusion from a negative premise (illicit negative) – a categorical syllogism has a positive conclusion, but at least one negative premise.[12] Fallacy of exclusive premises – a categorical syllogism that is invalid because both of its premises are negative.[12] Fallacy of four terms (quaternio terminorum) – a categorical syllogism that has four terms.[13] Illicit major – a categorical syllogism that is invalid because its major term is not distributed in the major premise but distributed in the conclusion.[12] Illicit minor – a categorical syllogism that is invalid because its minor term is not distributed in the minor premise but distributed in the conclusion.[12] Negative conclusion from affirmative premises (illicit affirmative) – a categorical syllogism has a negative conclusion but affirmative premises.[12] Fallacy of the undistributed middle – the middle term in a categorical syllogism is not distributed.[14] Modal fallacy – confusing possibility with necessity. Modal scope fallacy – a degree of unwarranted necessity is placed in the conclusion. Informal fallacies Main article: Informal fallacy Informal fallacies – arguments that are logically unsound for lack of well-grounded premises.[15]  Argument to moderation (false compromise, middle ground, fallacy of the mean, argumentum ad temperantiam) – assuming that the compromise between two positions is always correct.[16] Continuum fallacy (fallacy of the beard, line-drawing fallacy, sorites fallacy, fallacy of the heap, bald man fallacy) – improperly rejecting a claim for being imprecise.[17] Correlative-based fallacies Suppressed correlative – a correlative is redefined so that one alternative is made impossible (e.g., "I'm not fat because I'm thinner than him").[18] Definist fallacy – defining a term used in an argument in a biased manner. The person making the argument expects the listener will accept the provided definition, making the argument difficult to refute.[19] Divine fallacy (argument from incredulity) – arguing that, because something is so incredible or amazing, it must be the result of superior, divine, alien or paranormal agency.[20] Double counting – counting events or occurrences more than once in probabilistic reasoning, which leads to the sum of the probabilities of all cases exceeding unity. Equivocation – using a term with more than one meaning in a statement without specifying which meaning is intended.[21] Ambiguous middle term – using a middle term with multiple meanings.[22] Definitional retreat – changing the meaning of a word when an objection is raised.[1] Motte-and-bailey fallacy – conflating two positions with similar properties, one modest and easy to defend (the "motte") and one more controversial (the "bailey").[23] The arguer first states the controversial position, but when challenged, states that they are advancing the modest position.[24][25] Fallacy of accent – changing the meaning of a statement by not specifying on which word emphasis falls. Persuasive definition – purporting to use the "true" or "commonly accepted" meaning of a term while, in reality, using an uncommon or altered definition. (cf. the if-by-whiskey fallacy) Ecological fallacy – inferences about the nature of specific individuals are based solely upon aggregate statistics collected for the group to which those individuals belong.[26] Etymological fallacy – reasoning that the original or historical meaning of a word or phrase is necessarily similar to its actual present-day usage.[27] Fallacy of composition – assuming that something true of part of a whole must also be true of the whole.[28] Fallacy of division – assuming that something true of a thing must also be true of all or some of its parts.[29] False attribution – an advocate appeals to an irrelevant, unqualified, unidentified, biased or fabricated source in support of an argument. Fallacy of quoting out of context (contextotomy, contextomy; quotation mining) – refers to the selective excerpting of words from their original context in a way that distorts the source's intended meaning.[30] False authority (single authority) – using an expert of dubious credentials or using only one opinion to sell a product or idea. Related to the appeal to authority. False dilemma (false dichotomy, fallacy of bifurcation, black-or-white fallacy) – two alternative statements are held to be the only possible options when in reality there are more.[31] False equivalence – describing two or more statements as virtually equal when they are not. Feedback fallacy - believing in the objectivity of an evaluation to be used as the basis for improvement without verifying that the source of the evaluation is a disinterested party.[32] Historian's fallacy – assuming that decision makers of the past had identical information as those subsequently analyzing the decision.[33] This should not to be confused with presentism, in which present-day ideas and perspectives are anachronistically projected into the past. Historical fallacy – a set of considerations is thought to hold good only because a completed process is read into the content of the process which conditions this completed result.[34] Baconian fallacy - using pieces of historical evidence without the aid of specific methods, hypotheses, or theories in an attempt to make a general truth about the past. Commits historians "to the pursuit of an impossible object by an impracticable method".[35] Homunculus fallacy – using a "middle-man" for explanation; this sometimes leads to regressive middle-men. It explains a concept in terms of the concept itself without explaining its real nature (e.g.: explaining thought as something produced by a little thinker - a homunculus - inside the head simply identifies an intermediary actor and does not explain the product or process of thinking).[36] Inflation of conflict – arguing that, if experts in a field of knowledge disagree on a certain point within that field, no conclusion can be reached or that the legitimacy of that field of knowledge is questionable.[37] If-by-whiskey – an argument that supports both sides of an issue by using terms that are selectively emotionally sensitive. Incomplete comparison – insufficient information is provided to make a complete comparison. Inconsistent comparison – different methods of comparison are used, leaving a false impression of the whole comparison. Intentionality fallacy – the insistence that the ultimate meaning of an expression must be consistent with the intention of the person from whom the communication originated (e.g. a work of fiction that is widely received as a blatant allegory must necessarily not be regarded as such if the author intended it not to be so.)[38] Lump of labour fallacy – the misconception that there is a fixed amount of work to be done within an economy, which can be distributed to create more or fewer jobs.[39] Kettle logic – using multiple, jointly inconsistent arguments to defend a position.[dubious – discuss] Ludic fallacy – the belief that the outcomes of non-regulated random occurrences can be encapsulated by a statistic; a failure to take into account that unknown unknowns have a role in determining the probability of events taking place.[40] McNamara fallacy (quantitative fallacy) – making a decision based only on quantitative observations, discounting all other considerations. Mind projection fallacy – subjective judgments are "projected" to be inherent properties of an object, rather than being related to personal perceptions of that object. Moralistic fallacy – inferring factual conclusions from purely evaluative premises in violation of fact–value distinction. For instance, inferring is from ought is an instance of moralistic fallacy. Moralistic fallacy is the inverse of naturalistic fallacy defined below. Moving the goalposts (raising the bar) – argument in which evidence presented in response to a specific claim is dismissed and some other (often greater) evidence is demanded. Nirvana fallacy (perfect-solution fallacy) – solutions to problems are rejected because they are not perfect. Proof by assertion – a proposition is repeatedly restated regardless of contradiction; sometimes confused with argument from repetition (argumentum ad infinitum, argumentum ad nauseam) Prosecutor's fallacy – a low probability of false matches does not mean a low probability of some false match being found. Proving too much – an argument that results in an overly-generalized conclusion (e.g.: arguing that drinking alcohol is bad because in some instances it has led to spousal or child abuse). Psychologist's fallacy – an observer presupposes the objectivity of their own perspective when analyzing a behavioral event. Referential fallacy[41] – assuming all words refer to existing things and that the meaning of words reside within the things they refer to, as opposed to words possibly referring to no real object or that the meaning of words often comes from how they are used. Reification (concretism, hypostatization, or the fallacy of misplaced concreteness) – treating an abstract belief or hypothetical construct as if it were a concrete, real event or physical entity (e.g.: saying that evolution selects which traits are passed on to future generations; evolution is not a conscious entity with agency). Retrospective determinism – the argument that because an event has occurred under some circumstance, the circumstance must have made its occurrence inevitable. Slippery slope (thin edge of the wedge, camel's nose) – asserting that a proposed. relatively small, first action will inevitably lead to a chain of related events resulting in a significant and negative event and, therefore, should not be permitted.[42] Special pleading – the arguer attempts to cite something as an exemption to a generally accepted rule or principle without justifying the exemption (e.g.: a defendant who murdered his parents asks for leniency because he is now an orphan). Improper premise Begging the question (petitio principii) – using the conclusion of the argument in support of itself in a premise (e.g.: saying that smoking cigarettes is deadly because cigarettes can kill you; something that kills is deadly).[43][44][45] Loaded label – while not inherently fallacious, use of evocative terms to support a conclusion is a type of begging the question fallacy. When fallaciously used, the term's connotations are relied on to sway the argument towards a particular conclusion. For example, an organic foods advertisement that says "Organic foods are safe and healthy foods grown without any pesticides, herbicides, or other unhealthy additives." Use of the term "unhealthy additives" is used as support for the idea that the product is safe.[46] Circular reasoning (circulus in demonstrando) – the reasoner begins with what he or she is trying to end up with (e.g.: all bachelors are unmarried males). Fallacy of many questions (complex question, fallacy of presuppositions, loaded question, plurium interrogationum) – someone asks a question that presupposes something that has not been proven or accepted by all the people involved. This fallacy is often used rhetorically so that the question limits direct replies to those that serve the questioner's agenda. Faulty generalizations Faulty generalization – reach a conclusion from weak premises. Unlike fallacies of relevance, in fallacies of defective induction, the premises are related to the conclusions yet only weakly support the conclusions. A faulty generalization is thus produced.  Accident – an exception to a generalization is ignored.[47] No true Scotsman – makes a generalization true by changing the generalization to exclude a counterexample.[48] Cherry picking (suppressed evidence, incomplete evidence) – act of pointing at individual cases or data that seem to confirm a particular position, while ignoring a significant portion of related cases or data that may contradict that position.[49] Survivorship bias – a small number of successes of a given process are actively promoted while completely ignoring a large number of failures False analogy – an argument by analogy in which the analogy is poorly suited.[50] Hasty generalization (fallacy of insufficient statistics, fallacy of insufficient sample, fallacy of the lonely fact, hasty induction, secundum quid, converse accident, jumping to conclusions) – basing a broad conclusion on a small sample or the making of a determination without all of the information required to do so.[51] Inductive fallacy – A more general name to some fallacies, such as hasty generalization. It happens when a conclusion is made of premises that lightly support it. Misleading vividness – involves describing an occurrence in vivid detail, even if it is an exceptional occurrence, to convince someone that it is a problem; this also relies on the appeal to emotion fallacy. Overwhelming exception – an accurate generalization that comes with qualifications that eliminate so many cases that what remains is much less impressive than the initial statement might have led one to assume.[52] Thought-terminating cliché – a commonly used phrase, sometimes passing as folk wisdom, used to quell cognitive dissonance, conceal lack of forethought, move on to other topics, etc. – but in any case, to end the debate with a cliché rather than a point. Questionable cause Questionable cause is a general type of error with many variants. Its primary basis is the confusion of association with causation, either by inappropriately deducing (or rejecting) causation or a broader failure to properly investigate the cause of an observed effect.  Cum hoc ergo propter hoc (Latin for "with this, therefore because of this"; correlation implies causation; faulty cause/effect, coincidental correlation, correlation without causation) – a faulty assumption that, because there is a correlation between two variables, one caused the other.[53] Post hoc ergo propter hoc (Latin for "after this, therefore because of this"; temporal sequence implies causation) – X happened, then Y happened; therefore X caused Y.[54] Wrong direction (reverse causation) – cause and effect are reversed. The cause is said to be the effect and vice versa.[55] The consequence of the phenomenon is claimed to be its root cause. Ignoring a common cause Fallacy of the single cause (causal oversimplification[56]) – it is assumed that there is one, simple cause of an outcome when in reality it may have been caused by a number of only jointly sufficient causes. Furtive fallacy – outcomes are asserted to have been caused by the malfeasance of decision makers. Gambler's fallacy – the incorrect belief that separate, independent events can affect the likelihood of another random event. If a fair coin lands on heads 10 times in a row, the belief that it is "due to the number of times it had previously landed on tails" is incorrect.[57] Inverse gambler's fallacy Magical thinking – fallacious attribution of causal relationships between actions and events. In anthropology, it refers primarily to cultural beliefs that ritual, prayer, sacrifice, and taboos will produce specific supernatural consequences. In psychology, it refers to an irrational belief that thoughts by themselves can affect the world or that thinking something corresponds with doing it. Regression fallacy – ascribes cause where none exists. The flaw is failing to account for natural fluctuations. It is frequently a special kind of post hoc fallacy. Relevance fallacies Appeal to the stone (argumentum ad lapidem) – dismissing a claim as absurd without demonstrating proof for its absurdity.[58] Argument from ignorance (appeal to ignorance, argumentum ad ignorantiam) – assuming that a claim is true because it has not been or cannot be proven false, or vice versa.[59] Argument from incredulity (appeal to common sense) – "I cannot imagine how this could be true; therefore, it must be false."[60] Argument from repetition (argumentum ad nauseam, argumentum ad infinitum) – repeating an argument until nobody cares to discuss it any more;[61][62] sometimes confused with proof by assertion Argument from silence (argumentum ex silentio) – assuming that a claim is true based on the absence of textual or spoken evidence from an authoritative source, or vice versa.[63] Ignoratio elenchi (irrelevant conclusion, missing the point) – an argument that may in itself be valid, but does not address the issue in question.[64] Red herring fallacies A red herring fallacy, one of the main subtypes of fallacies of relevance, is an error in logic where a proposition is, or is intended to be, misleading in order to make irrelevant or false inferences. In the general case any logical inference based on fake arguments, intended to replace the lack of real arguments or to replace implicitly the subject of the discussion.[65][66]  Red herring – introducing a second argument in response to the first argument that is irrelevant and draws attention away from the original topic (e.g.: saying “If you want to complain about the dishes I leave in the sink, what about the dirty clothes you leave in the bathroom?”).[67] See also irrelevant conclusion.  Ad hominem – attacking the arguer instead of the argument. (N.b., "ad hominem" can also refer to the dialectical strategy of arguing on the basis of the opponent's own commitments. This type of ad hominem is not a fallacy.) Circumstantial ad hominem - stating that the arguer's personal situation or perceived benefit from advancing a conclusion means that their conclusion is wrong.[68] Poisoning the well – a subtype of ad hominem presenting adverse information about a target person with the intention of discrediting everything that the target person says.[69] Appeal to motive – dismissing an idea by questioning the motives of its proposer. Kafka-trapping – a sophistical and unfalsifiable form of argument that attempts to overcome an opponent by inducing a sense of guilt and using the opponent's denial of guilt as further evidence of guilt.[70] Tone policing – focusing on emotion behind (or resulting from) a message rather than the message itself as a discrediting tactic. Traitorous critic fallacy (ergo decedo, 'thus leave') – a critic's perceived affiliation is portrayed as the underlying reason for the criticism and the critic is asked to stay away from the issue altogether. Easily confused with the association fallacy ("guilt by association") below. Appeal to authority (argument from authority, argumentum ad verecundiam) – an assertion is deemed true because of the position or authority of the person asserting it.[71][72] Appeal to accomplishment – an assertion is deemed true or false based on the accomplishments of the proposer. This may often also have elements of appeal to emotion (see below). Courtier's reply – a criticism is dismissed by claiming that the critic lacks sufficient knowledge, credentials, or training to credibly comment on the subject matter. Appeal to consequences (argumentum ad consequentiam) – the conclusion is supported by a premise that asserts positive or negative consequences from some course of action in an attempt to distract from the initial discussion.[73] Appeal to emotion – an argument is made due to the manipulation of emotions, rather than the use of valid reasoning.[74] Appeal to fear – an argument is made by increasing fear and prejudice towards the opposing side[75] Appeal to flattery – an argument is made due to the use of flattery to gather support.[76] Appeal to pity (argumentum ad misericordiam) – an argument attempts to induce pity to sway opponents.[77] Appeal to ridicule – an argument is made by presenting the opponent's argument in a way that makes it appear ridiculous (or, arguing or implying that because it is ridiculous it must be untrue).[78] Appeal to spite – an argument is made through exploiting people's bitterness or spite towards an opposing party.[79] Judgmental language – insulting or pejorative language to influence the audience's judgment. Pooh-pooh – dismissing an argument perceived unworthy of serious consideration.[80] Wishful thinking – a decision is made according to what might be pleasing to imagine, rather than according to evidence or reason.[81] Appeal to nature – judgment is based solely on whether the subject of judgment is 'natural' or 'unnatural'.[82] (Sometimes also called the "naturalistic fallacy", but is not to be confused with the other fallacies by that name.) Appeal to novelty (argumentum novitatis, argumentum ad antiquitatis) – a proposal is claimed to be superior or better solely because it is new or modern.[83] Appeal to poverty (argumentum ad Lazarum) – supporting a conclusion because the arguer is poor (or refuting because the arguer is wealthy). (Opposite of appeal to wealth.)[84] Appeal to tradition (argumentum ad antiquitatem) – a conclusion supported solely because it has long been held to be true.[85] Appeal to wealth (argumentum ad crumenam) – supporting a conclusion because the arguer is wealthy (or refuting because the arguer is poor).[86] (Sometimes taken together with the appeal to poverty as a general appeal to the arguer's financial situation.) Argumentum ad baculum (appeal to the stick, appeal to force, appeal to threat) – an argument made through coercion or threats of force to support position.[87] Argumentum ad populum (appeal to widespread belief, bandwagon argument, appeal to the majority, appeal to the people) – a proposition is claimed to be true or good solely because a majority or many people believe it to be so.[88] Association fallacy (guilt by association and honor by association) – arguing that because two things share (or are implied to share) some property, they are the same.[89] Ipse dixit (bare assertion fallacy) – a claim that is presented as true without support, as self-evidently true, or as dogmatically true. This fallacy relies on the implied expertise of the speaker or on an unstated truism.[90][91] Bulverism (psychogenetic fallacy) – inferring why an argument is being used, associating it to some psychological reason, then assuming it is invalid as a result. The assumption that if the origin of an idea comes from a biased mind, then the idea itself must also be a falsehood.[37] Chronological snobbery – a thesis is deemed incorrect because it was commonly held when something else, known to be false, was also commonly held.[92][93] Fallacy of relative privation (also known as "appeal to worse problems" or "not as bad as") – dismissing an argument or complaint due to what are perceived to be more important problems. First World problems are a subset of this fallacy.[94][95] Genetic fallacy – a conclusion is suggested based solely on something or someone's origin rather than its current meaning or context.[96] I'm entitled to my opinion – a person discredits any opposition by claiming that they are entitled to their opinion. Moralistic fallacy – inferring factual conclusions from evaluative premises, in violation of fact-value distinction; e.g. making statements about what is, on the basis of claims about what ought to be. This is the inverse of the naturalistic fallacy. Naturalistic fallacy – inferring evaluative conclusions from purely factual premises[97][98] in violation of fact-value distinction. Naturalistic fallacy (sometimes confused with appeal to nature) is the inverse of moralistic fallacy. Is–ought fallacy[99] – statements about what is, on the basis of claims about what ought to be. Naturalistic fallacy fallacy[100] (anti-naturalistic fallacy)[101] – inferring an impossibility to infer any instance of ought from is from the general invalidity of is-ought fallacy, mentioned above. For instance, is {\displaystyle P\lor \neg P}P \lor \neg P does imply ought {\displaystyle P\lor \neg P}P \lor \neg P for any proposition {\displaystyle P}P, although the naturalistic fallacy fallacy would falsely declare such an inference invalid. Naturalistic fallacy fallacy is a type of argument from fallacy. Straw man fallacy – misrepresenting an opponent's argument by broadening or narrowing the scope of a premise and refuting a weaker version (e.g.: saying “You tell us that A is the right thing to do, but the real reason you want us to do A is that you would personally profit from it).[102] Texas sharpshooter fallacy – improperly asserting a cause to explain a cluster of data.[103] Tu quoque ('you too' – appeal to hypocrisy, whataboutism) – the argument states that a certain position is false or wrong or should be disregarded because its proponent fails to act consistently in accordance with that position.[104] Two wrongs make a right – occurs when it is assumed that if one wrong is committed, another wrong will rectify it.[105] Vacuous truth – a claim that is technically true but meaningless, in the form of claiming that no A in B has C, when there is no A in B. For example, claiming that no mobile phones in the room are on when there are no mobile phones in the room at all.

metaphorical implicaturum -- Grice, “You’re the cream in my coffee” – “You’re the salt in my stew” – “You’re the starch in my collar” – “You’re the lace in my shoe.” metaphor, a figure of speech (or a trope) in which a word or phrase that literally denotes one thing is used to denote another, thereby implicitly comparing the two things. In the normal use of the sentence ‘The Mississippi is a river’, ‘river’ is used literally – or as some would prefer to say, used in its literal sense. By contrast, if one assertively uttered “Time is a river,” one would be using ‘river’ metaphorically – or be using it in a metaphorical sense. Metaphor has been a topic of philosophical discussion since Aristotle; in fact, it has almost certainly been more discussed by philosophers than all the other tropes together. Two themes are prominent in the discussions up to the nineteenth century. One is that metaphors, along with all the other tropes, are decorations of speech; hence the phrase ‘figures of speech’. Metaphors are adornments or figurations. They do not contribute to the cognitive meaning of the discourse; instead they lend it color, vividness, emotional impact, etc. Thus it was characteristic of the Enlightenment and proto-Enlightenment philosophers – Hobbes and Locke are good examples – to insist that though philosophers may sometimes have good reason to communicate their thought with metaphors, they themselves should do their thinking entirely without metaphors. The other theme prominent in discussions of metaphor up to the nineteenth century is that metaphors are, so far as their cognitive force is concerned, elliptical similes. The cognitive force of ‘Time is a river’, when ‘river’ in that sentence is used metaphorically, is the same as ‘Time is like a river’. What characterizes almost all theories of metaphor from the time of the Romantics up through our own century is the rejection of both these traditional themes. Metaphors – so it has been argued – are not cognitively dispensable decorations. They contribute to the cognitive meaning of our discourse; and they are indispensable, not only to religious discourse, but to ordinary, and even scientific, discourse, not to mention poetic. Nietzsche, indeed, went so far as to argue that all speech is metaphorical. And though no consensus has yet emerged on how and what metaphors contribute to meaning, nor how we recognize what they contribute, nearconsensus has emerged on the thesis that they do not work as elliptical similes. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Why it is not the case that you’re the cream in my coffee.” H. P. Grice, “One figure of rhetoric too many.” “Metanonymy.”

Ariskant -- Aristkantian metaphysical deduction: cf. the transcendental club. or argument. transcendental argument Metaphysics, epistemology An argument that starts from some accepted experience or fact to prove that there must be something which is beyond experience but which is a necessary condition for making the accepted experience or fact possible. The goal of a transcendental argument is to establish the transcendental dialectic truth of this precondition. If there is something X of which Y is a necessary condition, then Y must be true. This form of argument became prominent in Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason, where he argued that the existence of some fundamental a priori concepts, namely the categories, and of space and time as pure forms of sensibility, are necessary to make experience possible. In contemporary philosophy, transcendental arguments are widely proposed as a way of refuting skepticism. Wittgenstein used this form of argument to reject the possibility of a private language that only the speaker could understand. Peter Strawson employs a transcendental argument to prove the perception-independent existence of material particulars and to reject a skeptical attitude toward the existence of other minds. There is disagreement about the kind of necessity involved in transcendental arguments, and Barry Stroud has raised important questions about the possibility of transcendental arguments succeeding. “A transcendental argument attempts to prove q by proving it is part of any correct explanation of p, by proving it a precondition of p’s possibility.” Nozick Philosophical Explanations transcendental deduction Metaphysics, epistemology, ethics, aesthetics For Kant, the argument to prove that certain a priori concepts are legitimately, universally, necessarily, and exclusively applicable to objects of experience. Kant employed this form of argument to establish the legitimacy of space and time as the forms of intuition, of the claims of the moral law in the Critique of Practical Reason, and of the claims of the aesthetic judgment of taste in the Critique of Judgement. However, the most influential example of this form of argument appeared in the Critique of Pure Reason as the transcendental deduction of the categories. The metaphysical deduction set out the origin and character of the categories, and the task of the transcendental deduction was to demonstrate that these a priori concepts do apply to objects of experience and hence to prove the objective validity of the categories. The strategy of the proof is to show that objects can be thought of only by means of the categories. In sensibility, objects are subject to the forms of space and time. In understanding, experienced objects must stand under the conditions of the transcendental unity of apperception. Because these conditions require the determination of objects by the pure concepts of the understanding, there can be no experience that is not subject to the categories. The categories, therefore, are justified in their application to appearances as conditions of the possibility of experience. In the second edition of the Critique of Pure Reason (1787), Kant extensively rewrote the transcendental deduction, although he held that the result remained the same. The first version emphasized the subjective unity of consciousness, while the second version stressed the objective character of the unity, and it is therefore possible to distinguish between a subjective and objective deduction. The second version was meant to clarify the argument, but remained extremely difficult to interpret and assess. The presence of the two versions of this fundamental argument makes interpretation even more demanding. Generally speaking, European philosophers prefer the subjective version, while Anglo-American philosophers prefer the objective version. The transcendental deduction of the categories was a revolutionary development in modern philosophy. It was the main device by which Kant sought to overcome the errors and limitations of both rationalism and empiricism and propelled philosophy into a new phase. “The explanation of the manner in which concepts can thus relate a priori to objects I entitle their transcendental deduction.” Kant, Critique of Pure Reason. metaphysical realism, in the widest sense, the view that (a) there are real objects (usually the view is concerned with spatiotemporal objects), (b) they exist independently of our experience or our knowledge of them, and (c) they have properties and enter into relations independently of the concepts with which we understand them or of the language with which we describe them. Anti-realism is any view that rejects one or more of these three theses, though if (a) is rejected the rejection of (b) and (c) follows trivially. (If it merely denies the existence of material things, then its traditional name is ‘idealism.’) Metaphysical realism, in all of its three parts, is shared by common sense, the sciences, and most philosophers. The chief objection to it is that we can form no conception of real objects, as understood by it, since any such conception must rest on the concepts we already have and on our language and experience. To accept the objection seems to imply that we can have no knowledge of real objects as they are in themselves, and that truth must not be understood as correspondence to such objects. But this itself has an even farther reaching consequence: either (i) we should accept the seemingly absurd view that there are no real objects (since the objection equally well applies to minds and their states, to concepts and words, to properties and relations, to experiences, etc.), for we should hardly believe in the reality of something of which we can form no conception at all; or (ii) we must face the seemingly hopeless task of a drastic change in what we mean by ‘reality’, ‘concept’, ‘experience’, ‘knowledge’, ‘truth’, and much else. On the other hand, the objection may be held to reduce to a mere tautology, amounting to ‘We (can) know reality only as we (can) know it’, and then it may be argued that no substantive thesis, which anti-realism claims to be, is derivable from a mere tautology. Yet even if the objection is a tautology, it serves to force us to avoid a simplistic view of our cognitive relationship to the world. In discussions of universals, metaphysical realism is the view that there are universals, and usually is contrasted with nominalism. But this either precludes a standard third alternative, namely conceptualism, or simply presupposes that concepts are general words (adjectives, common nouns, verbs) or uses of such words. If this presupposition is accepted, then indeed conceptualism would be the same as nominalism, but this should be argued, not legislated verbally. Traditional conceptualism holds that concepts are particular mental entities, or at least mental dispositions, that serve the classificatory function that universals have been supposed to serve and also explain the classificatory function that general words undoubtedly also serve. -- metaphysics, most generally, the philosophical investigation of the nature, constitution, and structure of reality. It is broader in scope than science, e.g., physics and even cosmology (the science of the nature, structure, and origin of the universe as a whole), since one of its traditional concerns is the existence of non-physical entities, e.g., God. It is also more fundamental, since it investigates questions science does not address but the answers to which it presupposes. Are there, for instance, physical objects at all, and does every event have a cause? So understood, metaphysics was rejected by positivism on the ground that its statements are “cognitively meaningless” since they are not empirically verifiable. More recent philosophers, such as Quine, reject metaphysics on the ground that science alone provides genuine knowledge. In The Metaphysics of Logical Positivism (1954), Bergmann argued that logical positivism, and any view such as Quine’s, presupposes a metaphysical theory. And the positivists’ criterion of cognitive meaning was never formulated in a way satisfactory even to them. A successor of the positivist attitude toward metaphysics is Grice’s tutee at St. John’s – for his Logic Paper for the PPE -- P. F. Strawson’s preference (especially in Individuals: an essay in descriptive metaphysics) for what he calls descriptive metaphysics, which is “content to describe the actual structure of our thought about the world,” as contrasted with revisionary metaphysics, which is “concerned to produce a better structure.” The view, sometimes considered scientific (but an assumption rather than an argued theory), that all that there is, is spatiotemporal (a part of “nature”) and is knowable only through the methods of the sciences, is itself a metaphysics, namely metaphysical naturalism (not to be confused with natural philosophy). It is not part of science itself. In its most general sense, metaphysics may seem to coincide with philosophy as a whole, since anything philosophy investigates is presumably a part of reality, e.g., knowledge, values, and valid reasoning. But it is useful to reserve the investigation of such more specific topics for distinct branches of philosophy, e.g., epistemology, ethics, aesthetics, and logic, since they raise problems peculiar to themselves. Perhaps the most familiar question in metaphysics is whether there are only material entities – materialism – or only mental entities, i.e., minds and their states – idealism – or both – dualism. Here ‘entity’ has its broadest sense: anything real. More specific questions of metaphysics concern the existence and nature of certain individuals – also called particulars – (e.g., God), or certain properties (e.g., are there properties that nothing exemplifies?) or relations (e.g., is there a relation of causation that is a necessary connection rather than a mere regular conjunction between events?). The nature of space and time is another important example of such a more specific topic. Are space and time peculiar individuals that “contain” ordinary individuals, or are they just systems of relations between individual things, such as being (spatially) higher or (temporally) prior. Whatever the answer, space and time are what render a world out of the totality of entities that are parts of it. Since on any account of knowledge, our knowledge of the world is extremely limited, concerning both its spatial and temporal dimensions and its inner constitution, we must allow for an indefinite number of possible ways the world may be, might have been, or will be. And this thought gives rise to the idea of an indefinite number of possible worlds. This idea is useful in making vivid our understanding of the nature of necessary truth (a necessarily true proposition is one that is true in all possible worlds) and thus is commonly employed in modal logic. But the idea can also make possible worlds seem real, a highly controversial doctrine. The notion of a spatiotemporal world is commonly that employed in discussions of the socalled issue of realism versus anti-realism, although this issue has also been raised with respect to universals, values, and numbers, which are not usually considered spatiotemporal. While there is no clear sense in asserting that nothing is real, there seems to be a clear sense in asserting that there is no spatiotemporal world, especially if it is added that there are minds and their ideas. This was Berkeley’s view. But contemporary philosophers who raise questions about the reality of the spatiotemporal world are not comfortable with Berkeleyan minds and ideas and usually just somewhat vaguely speak of “ourselves” and our “representations.” The latter are themselves often understood as material (states of our brains), a clearly inconsistent position for anyone denying the reality of the spatiotemporal world. Usually, the contemporary anti-realist does not actually deny it but rather adopts a view resembling Kant’s transcendental idealism. Our only conception of the world, the anti-realist would argue, rests on our perceptual and conceptual faculties, including our language. But then what reason do we have to think that this conception is true, that it corresponds to the world as the world is in itself? Had our faculties and language been different, surely we would have had very different conceptions of the world. And very different conceptions of it are possible even in terms of our present faculties, as seems to be shown by the fact that very different scientific theories can be supported by exactly the same data. So far, we do not have anti-realism proper. But it is only a short step to it: if our conception of an independent spatiotemporal world is necessarily subjective, then we have no good reason for supposing that there is such a world, especially since it seems selfcontradictory to speak of a conception that is independent of our conceptual faculties. It is clear that this question, like almost all the questions of general metaphysics, is at least in part epistemological. Metaphysics can also be understood in a more definite sense, suggested by Aristotle’s notion (in his Metaphysics, the title of which was given by an early editor of his works, not by Aristotle himself) of “first philosophy,” namely, the study of being qua being, i.e., of the most general and necessary characteristics that anything must have in order to count as a being, an entity (ens). Sometimes ‘ontology’ is used in this sense, but this is by no means common practice, ‘ontology’ being often used as a synonym of ‘metaphysics’. Examples of criteria (each of which is a major topic in metaphysics) that anything must meet in order to count as a being, an entity, are the following. (A) Every entity must be either an individual thing (e.g., Socrates and this book), or a property (e.g., Socrates’ color and the shape of this book), or a relation (e.g., marriage and the distance between two cities), or an event (e.g., Socrates’ death), or a state of affairs (e.g., Socrates’ having died), or a set (e.g., the set of Greek philosophers). These kinds of entities are usually called categories, and metaphysics is very much concerned with the question whether these are the only categories, or whether there are others, or whether some of them are not ultimate because they are reducible to others (e.g., events to states of affairs, or individual things to temporal series of events). (B) The existence, or being, of a thing is what makes it an entity. (C) Whatever has identity and is distinct from everything else is an entity. (D) The nature of the “connection” between an entity and its properties and relations is what makes it an entity. Every entity must have properties and perhaps must enter into relations with at least some other entities. (E) Every entity must be logically self-consistent. It is noteworthy that after announcing his project of first philosophy, Aristotle immediately embarked on a defense of the law of non-contradiction. Concerning (A) we may ask (i) whether at least some individual things (particulars) are substances, in the Aristotelian sense, i.e., enduring through time and changes in their properties and relations, or whether all individual things are momentary. In that case, the individuals of common sense (e.g., this book) are really temporal series of momentary individuals, perhaps events such as the book’s being on a table at a specific instant. We may also ask (ii) whether any entity has essential properties, i.e., properties without which it would not exist, or whether all properties are accidental, in the sense that the entity could exist even if it lost the property in question. We may ask (iii) whether properties and relations are particulars or universals, e.g., whether the color of this page and the color of the next page, which (let us assume) are exactly alike, are two distinct entities, each with its separate spatial location, or whether they are identical and thus one entity that is exemplified by, perhaps even located in, the two pages. Concerning (B), we may ask whether existence is itself a property. If it is, how is it to be understood, and if it is not, how are we to understand ‘x exists’ and ‘x does not exist’, which seem crucial to everyday and scientific discourse, just as the thoughts they express seem crucial to everyday and scientific thinking? Should we countenance, as Meinong did, objects having no existence, e.g. golden mountains, even though we can talk and think about them? We can talk and think about a golden mountain and even claim that it is true that the mountain is golden, while knowing all along that what we are thinking and talking about does not exist. If we do not construe non-existent objects as something, then we are committed to the somewhat startling view that everything exists. Concerning (C) we may ask how to construe informative identity statements, such as, to use Frege’s example, ‘The Evening Star is identical with the Morning Star’. This contrasts with trivial and perhaps degenerate statements, such as ‘The Evening Star is identical with the Evening Star’, which are almost never made in ordinary or scientific discourse. The former are essential to any coherent, systematic cognition (even to everyday recognition of persons and places). Yet they are puzzling. We cannot say that they assert of two things that they are one, even though ordinary language suggests precisely this. Neither can we just say that they assert that a certain thing is identical with itself, for this view would be obviously false if the statements are informative. The fact that Frege’s example includes definite descriptions (‘the Evening Star’, ‘the Morning Star’) is irrelevant, contrary to Russell’s view. Informative identity statements can also have as their subject terms proper names and even demonstrative pronouns (e.g., ‘Hesperus is identical with Phosphorus’ and ‘This [the shape of this page] is identical with that [the shape of the next page]’), the reference of which is established not by description but ostensively, perhaps by actual pointing. Concerning (D) we can ask about the nature of the relationship, usually called instantiation or exemplification, between an entity and its properties and relations. Surely, there is such a relationship. But it can hardly be like an ordinary relation such as marriage that connects things of the same kind. And we can ask what is the connection between that relation and the entities it relates, e.g., the individual thing on one hand and its properties and relations on the other. Raising this question seems to lead to an infinite regress, as Bradley held; for the supposed connection is yet another relation to be connected with something else. But how do we avoid the regress? Surely, an individual thing and its properties and relations are not unrelated items. They have a certain unity. But what is its character? Moreover, we can hardly identify the individual thing except by reference to its properties and relations. Yet if we say, as some have, that it is nothing but a bundle of its properties and relations, could there not be another bundle of exactly the same properties and relations, yet distinct from the first one? (This question concerns the so-called problem of individuation, as well as the principle of the identity of indiscernibles.) If an individual is something other than its properties and relations (e.g., what has been called a bare particular), it would seem to be unobservable and thus perhaps unknowable. Concerning (E), virtually no philosopher has questioned the law of non-contradiction. But there are important questions about its status. Is it merely a linguistic convention? Some have held this, but it seems quite implausible. Is the law of non-contradiction a deep truth about being qua being? If it is, (E) connects closely with (B) and (C), for we can think of the concepts of self-consistency, identity, and existence as the most fundamental metaphysical concepts. They are also fundamental to logic, but logic, even if ultimately grounded in metaphysics, has a rich additional subject matter (sometimes merging with that of mathematics) and therefore is properly regarded as a separate branch of philosophy. The word ‘metaphysics’ has also been used in at least two other senses: first, the investigation of entities and states of affairs “transcending” human experience, in particular, the existence of God, the immortality of the soul, and the freedom of the will (this was Kant’s conception of the sort of metaphysics that, according to him, required “critique”); and second, the investigation of any alleged supernatural or occult phenomena, such as ghosts and telekinesis. The first sense is properly philosophical, though seldom occurring today. The second is strictly popular, since the relevant supernatural phenomena are most questionable on both philosophical and scientific grounds. They should not be confused with the subject matter of philosophical theology, which may be thought of as part of metaphysics in the general philosophical sense, though it was included by Aristotle in the subject matter of metaphysics in his sense of the study of being qua being. Refs.: H. P. Grice and P. F. Strawson, “Seminars on Aristotle’s Categoriae,” Oxford.

metaphysical wisdom: J. London-born philosopher, cited by H. P. Grice in his third programme lecture on Metaphysics. “Wisdom used to say that metaphysics is nonsense, but INTERESTING nonsense.” Some more “contemporary” accounts of “metaphysics” sound, on the face of it at least, very different from either of these.   Consider, for example, from the OTHER place, John Wisdom's description of a metaphysical, shall we say, ‘statement’ – I prefer ‘utterance’ or pronouncement!  Wisdom says that a metaphysical, shall we say, ‘proposition’ is, characteristically, a sort of illuminating falsehood, a pointed paradox, which uses what Wisdom calls ‘ordinary language’ in a disturbing, baffling, and even shocking way, but not otiosely, but in order to make your tutee aware of a hidden difference or a hidden resemblance between this thing and that thing – a difference and a resemblance hidden by our ordinary ways of “talking.”  The metaphysician renders what is clear, obscure.  And the metaphysician MUST retort to some EXTRA-ordinary language, as Wisdom calls it!    Of course, to be fair to Wisdom and the OTHER place, Wisdom does not claim this to be a complete characterisation, nor perhaps a literally correct one.   Since Wisdom loves a figure of speech and a figure of thought!  Perhaps what Wisdom claims should *itself* be seen as an illuminating paradox, a meta-meta-physical one!  In any case, its relation to Aristotle's, or, closer to us, F. H. Bradley's, account of the matter is not obvious, is it?  But perhaps a relation CAN be established.   Certainly not every metaphysical statement is a paradox serving to call attention to an usually unnoticed difference or resemblance.   For many a metaphysical statement is so obscure (or unperspicuous, as I prefer) that it takes long training, usually at Oxford, before the metaphysician’s meaning can be grasped.  A paradox, such as Socrates’s, must operate with this or that familiar concept.  For the essence of a paradox is that it administers a shock, and you cannot shock your tutee when he is standing on such unfamiliar ground that he has no particular expectations.   Nevertheless there IS a connection between “metaphysics” and Wisdom's kind of paradox.   He is not speaking otiosely!  Suppose we consider the paradox:  i. Everyone is really always alone.   Considered by itself, it is no more than an epigram -- rather a flat one  - about the human condition.   The implicaturum, via hyperbole, is “I am being witty.”  The pronouncement (i)  might be said, at least, to minimise the difference between “being BY oneself” and “being WITH other people,” Heidegger’s “Mit-Sein.”  But now consider the pronouncement (i), not simply by itself, but surrounded and supported by a certain kind of “metaphysical” argument: by a “metaphysical” argument to the effect that what passes for “knowledge” of the other's mental or psychological process is, at best, an unverifiable conjecture, since the mind (or soul) and the body are totally distinct things, and the working of the mind (or soul, as Aristotle would prefer, ‘psyche’) is always withdrawn behind the screen of its bodily manifestations, as Witters would have it. (Not in vain Wisdom calls himself or hisself a disciple of Witters!)   When this solitude-affirming paradox, (i) is seen in the context of a general theory about the soul and the body and the possibilities and limits of so-called “knowledge” (as in “Knowledge of other minds,” to use Wisdom’s fashionable sobriquet), when it is seen as embodying such a “metaphysical” theory, indeed the paradox BECOMES clearly a “metaphysical” statement.   But the fact that the statement or proposition is most clearly seen as “metaphysical” in such a setting does not mean that there is no “metaphysics” at all in it when it is deprived of the setting. (Cf. my “The general theory of context.”). An utterance like  (ii) Everyone is alone.  invites us to change, for a moment at least and in one respect, our ordinary way of looking at and talking about things, and hints (or the metaphysician implicates rather) that the changed view the tutee gets is the truer, the profounder, view.   Cf. Cook Wilson, “What we know we know,” as delighting this air marshal. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Metaphysics,” in D. F. Pears, “The nature of metaphysics: the Third-Programme Lectures for 1953.”

Totum -- Holos – holism -- Methodus -- methodological holism, also called metaphysical holism, the thesis that with respect to some system there is explanatory emergence, i.e., the laws of the more complex situations in the system are not deducible by way of any composition laws or laws of coexistence from the laws of the simpler or simplest situation(s). Explanatory emergence may exist in a system for any of the following reasons: that at some more complex level a variable interacts that does not do so at simpler levels, that a property of the “whole” interacts with properties of the “parts,” that the relevant variables interact by different laws at more complex levels owing to the complexity of the levels, or (the limiting case) that strict lawfulness breaks down at some more complex level. Thus, explanatory emergence does not presuppose descriptive emergence, the thesis that there are properties of “wholes” (or more complex situations) that cannot be defined through the properties of the “parts” (or simpler situations). The opposite of methodological holism is methodological individualism, also called explanatory reductionism, according to which all laws of the “whole” (or more complex situations) can be deduced from a combination of the laws of the simpler or simplest situation(s) and either some composition laws or laws of coexistence (depending on whether or not there is descriptive emergence). Methodological individualists need not deny that there may be significant lawful connections among properties of the “whole,” but must insist that all such properties are either definable through, or connected by laws of coexistence with, properties of the “parts.”

michelstaedter: essential Italian philosopher. Refs.: Luigi Speranza, "Grice e Michelstaedter: retorica e persuasione," per il Club Anglo-Italiano, The Swimming-Pool Library, Villa Grice, Liguria, Italia.

migliio: essential Italian philosopher. Refs.: Luigi Speranza, "Grice e Miglio," per il Club Anglo-Italiano, The Swimming-Pool Library, Villa Grice, Liguria, Italia.

middle platonism, the period of Platonism between Antiochus of Ascalon and Plotinus, characterized by a rejection of the skeptical stance of the New Academy and by a gradual advance, with many individual variations, toward a comprehensive dogmatic position on metaphysical principles, while exhibiting a certain latitude, as between Stoicizing and Peripateticizing positions, in the sphere of ethics. Antiochus himself was much influenced by Stoic materialism (though disagreeing with the Stoics in ethics), but in the next generation a neo-Pythagorean influence made itself felt, generating the mix of doctrines that one may most properly term Middle Platonic. From Eudorus of Alexandria (fl. c.25 B.C.) on, a transcendental, two-world metaphysic prevailed, featuring a supreme god, or Monad, a secondary creator god, and a world soul, with which came a significant change in ethics, substituting, as an ‘end of goods’ (telos), “likeness to God” (from Plato, Theaetetus 176b), for the Stoicizing “assimilation to nature” of Antiochus. Our view of the period is hampered by a lack of surviving texts, but it is plain that, in the absence of a central validating authority (the Academy as an institution seems to have perished in the wake of the capture of Athens by Mithridates in 88 B.C.), a considerable variety of doctrine prevailed among individual Platonists and schools of Platonists, particularly in relation to a preference for Aristotelian or Stoic principles of ethics. Most known activity occurred in the late first and second centuries A.D. Chief figures in this period are Plutarch of Chaeronea (c.45–125), Calvenus Taurus (fl. c.145), and Atticus (fl. c.175), whose activity centered on Athens (though Plutarch remained loyal to Chaeronea in Boeotia); Gaius (fl. c.100) and Albinus (fl. c.130) – not to be identified with “Alcinous,” author of the Didaskalikos; the rhetorician Apuleius of Madaura (fl. c.150), who also composed a useful treatise on the life and doctrines of Plato; and the neo-Pythagoreans Moderatus of Gades (fl. c.90), Nicomachus of Gerasa (fl. c.140), and Numenius (fl. c.150), who do not, however, constitute a “school.” Good evidence for an earlier stage of Middle Platonism is provided by the Jewish philosopher Philo of Alexandria (c.25 B.C.–A.D. 50). Perhaps the single most important figure for the later Platonism of Plotinus and his successors is Numenius, of whose works we have only fragments. His speculations on the nature of the first principle, however, do seem to have been a stimulus to Plotinus in his postulation of a supraessential One. Plutarch is important as a literary figure, though most of his serious philosophical works are lost; and the handbooks of Alcinous and Apuleius are significant for our understanding of second-century Platonism.Luigi Speranza, “Middle Griceianism and Middle Platonism, Compared.”

Miletusians, or Ionian Miletusians, or Milesians, the pre-Socratic philosophers of Miletus, a Grecian city-state on the Ionian coast of Asia Minor. Thales, Anaximander, and Anaximenes produced the earliest philosophies, stressing an “arche” or material source from which the cosmos and all things in it were generated: water for Thales, and then there’s air, fire, and earth – the fifth Grice called the ‘quintessentia.’

more grice to the mill: Mill: Scots-born philosopher (“One should take grice to one mill but not to the mill –“ Grice --) and social theorist. He applied the utilitarianism of his contemporary Bentham to such social matters as systems of education and government, law and penal systems, and colonial policy. He also advocated the associationism of Hume. Mill was an influential thinker in early nineteenth-century London, but his most important role in the history of philosophy was the influence he had on his son, J. S. Mill. He raised his more famous son as a living experiment in his associationist theory of education. His utilitarian views were developed and extended by J. S. Mill, while his associationism was also adopted by his son and became a precursor of the latter’s phenomenalism.  More grice to the mill -- Mill, Scots London-born empiricist philosopher and utilitarian social reformer. He was the son of Mill, a leading defender of Bentham’s utilitarianism, and an advocate of reforms based on that philosophy. Mill was educated by his father (and thus “at Oxford we always considered him an outsider!” – Grice) in accordance with the principles of the associationist psychology adopted by the Benthamites and deriving from David Hartley, and was raised with the expectation that he would become a defender of the principles of the Benthamite school. Mill begins the study of Grecian at three and Roman at eight, and later assisted Mill in educating his brothers. He went to France to learn the language (“sc. French --” Grice ), and studied chemistry and mathematics at Montpellier. He wrote regularly for the Westminster Review, the Benthamite journal. He underwent a mental crisis that lasted some months. This he later attributed to his rigid education; in any case he emerged from a period of deep depression still advocating utilitarianism but in a very much revised version. Mill visits Paris during the revolution, meeting Lafayette and other popular leaders, and was introduced to the writings of Saint-Simon and Comte. He also met Harriet Taylor, to whom he immediately became devoted. They married only in 1851, when Taylor died. He joined the India House headquarters of the East India Company, serving as an examiner until the company was dissolved in 1858 in the aftermath of the Indian Mutiny. Mill sat in Parliament. Harriet dies and is buried at Avignon, where Mill thereafter regularly resided for half of each year. Mill’s major works are his “System of Logic, Deductive and Inductive,” “Political Economy,” “On Liberty,” “Utilitarianism,” in Fraser’s Magazine, “The Subjection of Women” – Grice: “I wrote a paper for Hardie on this. His only comment was: ‘what do you mean by ‘of’?” --; “An Examination of Sir William Hamilton’s Philosophy,” and “Religion.” His writing style is excellent, and his history of his own mental development, the “Autobiography” is a major Victorian literary text. His main opponents philosophically are Whewell and Hamilton, and it is safe to say that after Mill their intuitionism in metaphysics, philosophy of science, and ethics could no longer be defended. Mill’s own views were later to be eclipsed by those of such Oxonian lumaries as T. H. Green, F. H. Bradley, and the other Oxonian Hegelian idealists (Bosanquet, Pater). His views in metaphysics and philosophy of science have been revived and defended by Russell and the logical positivists, while his utilitarian ethics has regained its status as one of the major ethical theories. His social philosophy deeply infuenced the Fabians and other groups on the English left; its impact continues. Mill was brought up on the basis of, and to believe in, the strict utilitarianism of his father. His own development largely consisted in his attempts to broaden it, to include a larger and more sympathetic view of human nature, and to humanize its program to fit this broader view of human beings. In his own view, no doubt largely correct, he did not so much reject his father’s principles as fill in the gaps and eliminate rigidities and crudities. He continued throughout his life his father’s concern to propagate principles conceived as essential to promoting human happiness. These extended from moral principles to principles of political economy to principles of logic and metaphysics. Mill’s vision of the human being was rooted in the psychological theories he defended. Arguing against the intuitionism of Reid and Whewell, he extended the associationism of his father. On this theory, ideas have their genetic antecedents in sensation, a complex idea being generated out of a unique set of simple, elementary ideas, through associations based on regular patterns in the presented sensations. Psychological analysis reveals the elementary parts of ideas and is thus the means for investigating the causal origins of our ideas. The elder Mill followed Locke in conceiving analysis on the model of definition, so that the psychological elements are present in the idea they compose and the idea is nothing but its associated elements. Mill emerged from his mental crisis with the recognition that mental states are often more than the sum of the ideas that are their genetic antecedents. On the revised model of analysis, the analytical elements are not actually present in the idea, but are present only dispositionally, ready to be recovered by association under the analytical set. Moreover, it is words that are defined, not ideas, though words become general only by becoming associated with ideas. Analysis thus became an empirical task, rather than something settled a priori according to one’s metaphysical predispositions, as it had been for Mill’s predecessors. The revised psychology allowed the younger Mill to account empirically in a much more subtle way than could the earlier associationists for the variations in our states of feeling. Thus, for example, the original motive to action is simple sensations of pleasure, but through association things originally desired as means become associated with pleasure and thereby become desirable as ends, as parts of one’s pleasure. But these acquired motives are not merely the sum of the simple pleasures that make them up; they are more than the sum of those genetic antecedents. Thus, while Mill holds with his father that persons seek to maximize their pleasures, unlike his father he also holds that not all ends are selfish, and that pleasures are not only quantitatively but also qualitatively distinct. In ethics, then, Mill can hold with the intuitionists that our moral sentiments are qualitatively distinct from the lower pleasures, while denying the intuitionist conclusion that they are innate. Mill urges, with his father and Bentham, that the basic moral norm is the principle of utility, that an action is right provided it maximizes human welfare. Persons always act to maximize their own pleasure, but the general human welfare can be among the pleasures they seek. Mill’s position thus does not have the problems that the apparently egoistic psychology of his father created. The only issue is whether a person ought to maximize human welfare, whether he ought to be the sort of person who is so motivated. Mill’s own ethics is that this is indeed what one ought to be, and he tries to bring this state of human being about in others by example, and by urging them to expand the range of their human sympathy through poetry like that of Wordsworth, through reading the great moral teachers such as Jesus and Socrates, and by other means of moral improvement. Mill also offers an argument in defense of the principle of utility. Against those who, like Whewell, argue that there is no basic right to pleasure, he argues that as a matter of psychological fact, people seek only pleasure, and concludes that it is therefore pointless to suggest that they ought to do anything other than this. The test of experience thus excludes ends other than pleasure. This is a plausible argument. Less plausible is his further argument that since each seeks her own pleasure, the general good is the (ultimate) aim of all. This latter argument unfortunately presupposes the invalid premise that the law for a whole follows from laws about the individual parts of the whole. Other moral rules can be justified by their utility and the test of experience. For example, such principles of justice as the rules of property and of promise keeping are justified by their role in serving certain fundamental human needs. Exceptions to such secondary rules can be justified by appeal to the principle of utility. But there is also utility in not requiring in every application a lengthy utilitarian calculation, which provides an objective justification for overlooking what might be, objectively considered in terms of the principle of utility, an exception to a secondary rule. Logic and philosophy of science. The test of experience is also brought to bear on norms other than those of morality, e.g., those of logic and philosophy of science. Mill argues, against the rationalists, that science is not demonstrative from intuited premises. Reason in the sense of deductive logic is not a logic of proof but a logic of consistency. The basic axioms of any science are derived through generalization from experience. The axioms are generic and delimit a range of possible hypotheses about the specific subject matter to which they are applied. It is then the task of experiment and, more generally, observation to eliminate the false and determine which hypothesis is true. The axioms, the most generic of which is the law of the uniformity of nature, are arrived at not by this sort of process of elimination but by induction by simple enumeration: Mill argues plausibly that on the basis of experience this method becomes more reliable the more generic is the hypothesis that it is used to justify. But like Hume, Mill holds that for any generalization from experience the evidence can never be sufficient to eliminate all possibility of doubt. Explanation for Mill, as for the logical positivists, is by subsumption under matter-of-fact generalizations. Causal generalizations that state sufficient or necessary and sufficient conditions are more desirable as explanations than mere regularities. Still more desirable is a law or body of laws that gives necessary and sufficient conditions for any state of a system, i.e., a body of laws for which there are no explanatory gaps. As for explanation of laws, this can proceed either by filling in gaps or by subsuming the law under a generic theory that unifies the laws of several areas. Mill argues that in the social sciences the subject matter is too complex to apply the normal methods of experiment. But he also rejects the purely deductive method of the Benthamite political economists such as his father and David Ricardo. Rather, one must deduce the laws for wholes, i.e., the laws of economics and sociology, from the laws for the parts, i.e., the laws of psychology, and then test these derived laws against the accumulated data of history. Mill got the idea for this methodology of the social sciences from Comte, but unfortunately it is vitiated by the false idea, already noted, that one can deduce without any further premise the laws for wholes from the laws for the parts. Subsequent methodologists of the social sciences have come to substitute the more reasonable methods of statistics for this invalid method Mill proposes. Mill’s account of scientific method does work well for empirical sciences, such as the chemistry of his day. He was able to show, too, that it made good sense of a great deal of physics, though it is arguable that it cannot do justice to theories that explain the atomic and subatomic structure of matter – something Mill himself was prepared to acknowledge. He also attempted to apply his views to geometry, and even more implausibly, to arithmetic. In these areas, he was certainly bested by Whewell, and the world had to wait for the logical work of Russell and Whitehead before a reasonable empiricist account of these areas became available. Metaphysics. The starting point of all inference is the sort of observation we make through our senses, and since we know by experience that we have no ideas that do not derive from sense experience, it follows that we cannot conceive a world beyond what we know by sense. To be sure, we can form generic concepts, such as that of an event, which enable us to form concepts of entities that we cannot experience, e.g., the concept of the tiny speck of sand that stopped my watch or the concept of the event that is the cause of my present sensation. Mill held that what we know of the laws of sensation is sufficient to make it reasonable to suppose that the immediate cause of one’s present sensation is the state of one’s nervous system. Our concept of an objective physical object is also of this sort; it is the set of events that jointly constitute a permanent possible cause of sensation. It is our inductive knowledge of laws that justifies our beliefs that there are entities that fall under these concepts. The point is that these entities, while unsensed, are (we reasonably believe) part of the world we know by means of our senses. The contrast is to such things as the substances and transcendent Ideas of rationalists, or the God of religious believers, entities that can be known only by means that go beyond sense and inductive inferences therefrom. Mill remained essentially pre-Darwinian, and was willing to allow the plausibility of the hypothesis that there is an intelligent designer for the perceived order in the universe. But this has the status of a scientific hypothesis rather than a belief in a substance or a personal God transcending the world of experience and time. Whewell, at once the defender of rationalist ideas for science and for ethics and the defender of established religion, is a special object for Mill’s scorn. Social and political thought. While Mill is respectful of the teachings of religious leaders such as Jesus, the institutions of religion, like those of government and of the economy, are all to be subjected to criticism based on the principle of utility: Do they contribute to human welfare? Are there any alternatives that could do better? Thus, Mill argues that a free-market economy has many benefits but that the defects, in terms of poverty for many, that result from private ownership of the means of production may imply that we should institute the alternative of socialism or public ownership of the means of production. He similarly argues for the utility of liberty as a social institution: under such a social order individuality will be encouraged, and this individuality in turn tends to produce innovations in knowledge, technology, and morality that contribute significantly to improving the general welfare. Conversely, institutions and traditions that stifle individuality, as religious institutions often do, should gradually be reformed. Similar considerations argue on the one hand for democratic representative government and on the other for a legal system of rights that can defend individuals from the tyranny of public opinion and of the majority. Status of women. Among the things for which Mill campaigned were women’s rights, women’s suffrage, and equal access for women to education and to occupations. He could not escape his age and continued to hold that it was undesirable for a woman to work to help support her family. While he disagreed with his father and Bentham that all motives are egoistic and self-interested, he nonetheless held that in most affairs of economics and government such motives are dominant. He was therefore led to disagree with his father that votes for women are unnecessary since the male can speak for the family. Women’s votes are needed precisely to check the pursuit of male self-interest. More generally, equality is essential if the interests of the family as such are to be served, rather than making the family serve male self-interest as had hitherto been the case. Changing the relation between men and women to one of equality will force both parties to curb their self-interest and broaden their social sympathies to include others. Women’s suffrage is an essential step toward the moral improvement of humankind. Grice: “I am fascinated by how Griceian Mill can be.” “In treating of the ‘proposition,’ some considerations of a comparatively elementary nature respecting its form must be premised,and the ‘import’ which the emisor conveyed by a token of an expression of a ‘proposition’ – for one cannot communicate but that the cat is on the mat -- . A proposition is a move in the conversational game in which a feature (P) is predicated of the subject (S) – The S is P – The subject and the predicate – as in “Strawson’s dog is shaggy” -- are all that is necessarily required to make up a proposition. But as we can not conclude from merely seeing two “Strawson’s dog” and “shaggy” put together, that “Strawson’s dog” is the subject and “shaggy” the predicate, that is, that the predicate is intended to be ‘predicated’ of the subject, it is necessary that there should be some mode or form of indicating that such is, in Griceian parlance, the ‘intention,’ sc. some sign to signal this predication – my father says that as I was growing up, I would say “dog shaggy” – The explicit communication of a predication is sometimes done by a slight alteration of the expression that is the predicate or the expression that is the subject – sc., a ‘casus’ – even if it is ‘rectum’ – or ‘obliquum’ --  inflectum.” Grice: “The example Mill gives is “Fire burns.”” “The change from ‘burn’ to ‘burns’ shows that the emisor intends to predicate the predicate “burn” of the subject “fire.” But this function is more commonly fulfilled by the copula, which serves the purporse of the sign of predication, “est,” (or by nothing at all as in my beloved Grecian! “Anthropos logikos,” -- when the predication is, again to use Griceian parlance, ‘intended.’” Grice: “Mill gives the example, ‘The king of France is smooth.” “It may seem to be implied, or implicated – implicatum, implicaturum -- not only that the quality ‘smooth’ can be predicated of the king of France, but moreover that there is a King of France. Grice: “Mill notes: ‘It’s different with ‘It is not the case that the king of France is smooth’”. “This, however should not rush us to think that ‘is’ is aequi-vocal, and that it can be ‘copula’ AND ‘praedicatum’, e. g. ‘… is a spatio-temporal continuant.’ Grice: “Mill then gives my example: ‘Pegasus is [in Grecian mythology – i. e. Pegasus is *believed* to exist by this or that Grecian mythographer], but does not exist.’” “A flying horse is a fiction of some Grecian poets.” Grice: “Mill hastens to add that the annulation of the implicaturum is implicit or contextual.” “By uttering ‘A flying horse is a Griceian allegory’ the emisor cannot possibly implicate that a flying horse is a spatio-temporal continuant, since by uttering the proposition itself the emisor is expressly asserting that the thing has no real existence.” “Many volumes might be filled” – Grice: “And will be filled by Strawson!” -- with the frivolous speculations concerning the nature of being (ƒø D½, øPÃw±, ens, entitas, essentia, and the like), which have arisen from overlooking the implicaturum of ‘est’; from supposing that when by uttering “S est P” the emisor communicates that S is a spatio-temporal continuant. when by uttering it, the emisor communicates that the S is some *specified* thing, a horse and a flier, to be a phantom, a mythological construct, or the invention of the journalists (like Marmaduke Bloggs, who climbed Mt. Everest on hands and knees) even to be a nonentity (as a squared circle) it must still, at bottom, answer to the same idea; and that a proposition must be found for it which shall suit all these cases. The fog which rises from this very narrow spot diffuses itself over the whole surface of ontology. Yet it becomes us not to triumph over the great intellect of Ariskant because we are now able to preserve ourselves from many errors into which he, perhaps inevitably, fell. The fire-teazer of a steam-engine produces by his exertions far greater effects than Milo of Crotona could, but he is not therefore a stronger man. The Grecians – like some uneducated Englishman -- seldom knew any language but their own! This render it far more difficult for *them* than it is for us, to acquire a readiness in detecting the implicaturum. One of the advantages of having accurately studied Grecian and Roman at Clifton, especially of those languages which Ariskant used as the vehicle of his thought, is the practical lesson we learn respecting the implicaturm, by finding that the same expression in Grecian, say (e. g. ‘is’) corresponds, on different occasions, to a different expression in Gricese, say (i. e. ‘hazz’). When not thus exercised, even the strongest understandings find it difficult to believe that things which fall under a class, have not in some respect or other a common nature; and often expend much labour very unprofitably (as is frequently done by Ariskant) in a vain attempt to discover in what this common nature consists. But, the habit once formed, intellects much inferior are capable of detecting even an impicaturum which is common or generalised to Grecian and Griceses: and it is surprising that this sous-entendu or impicaturum now under consideration, though it is ordinary at Oxford as well as in the ancient, should have been overlooked by almost every philosopher until Grice. Grice: “Mill was proud of Mill.” “The quantity of futilitarian speculation which had been caused by a misapprehension of the nature of the copula, is hinted at by Hobbes; but my father is the first who distinctly characterized the implicaturm, and point out to me how many errors in the received systems of philosophy it has had to answer for. It has, indeed, misled the moderns scarcely less than the ancients, though their mistakes, because our understandings are not yet so completely emancipated from their influence, do not appear equally irrational. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Grice to the Mill,” L. G. Wilton, “Mill’s mentalism,” for the Grice Club. Grice treasured Hardie’s invocation of Mill’s method during a traffic incident on the HIhg. Mill’s methods, procedures for discovering necessary conditions, sufficient conditions, and necessary and sufficient conditions, where these terms are used as follows: if whenever A then B (e.g., whenever there is a fire then oxygen is present), then B is a necessary (causal) condition for A; and if whenever C then D (e.g., whenever sugar is in water, then it dissolves), then C is a sufficient (causal) condition for D. Method of agreement. Given a pair of hypotheses about necessary conditions, e.g., (1) whenever A then B1 whenever A then B2, then an observation of an individual that is A but not B2 will eliminate the second alternative as false, enabling one to conclude that the uneliminated hypothesis is true. This method for discovering necessary conditions is called the method of agreement. To illustrate the method of agreement, suppose several people have all become ill upon eating potato salad at a restaurant, but have in other respects had quite different meals, some having meat, some vegetables, some desserts. Being ill and not eating meat eliminates the latter as the cause; being ill and not eating dessert eliminates the latter as cause; and so on. It is the condition in which the individuals who are ill agree that is not eliminated. We therefore conclude that this is the cause or necessary condition for the illness. Method of difference. Similarly, with respect to the pair of hypotheses concerning sufficient conditions, e.g., (2) whenever C1 then D whenever C2 then D, an individual that is C1 but not D will eliminate the first hypothesis and enable one to conclude that the second is true. This is the method of difference. A simple change will often yield an example of an inference to a sufficient condition by the method of difference. If something changes from C1 to C2, and also thereupon changes from notD to D, one can conclude that C2, in respect of which the instances differ, is the cause of D. Thus, Becquerel discovered that burns can be caused by radium, i.e., proximity to radium is a sufficient but not necessary condition for being burned, when he inferred that the radium he carried in a bottle in his pocket was the cause of a burn on his leg by noting that the presence of the radium was the only relevant causal difference between the time when the burn was present and the earlier time when it was not. Clearly, both methods can be generalized to cover any finite number of hypotheses in the set of alternatives. The two methods can be combined in the joint method of agreement and difference to yield the discovery of conditions that are both necessary and sufficient. Sometimes it is possible to eliminate an alternative, not on the basis of observation, but on the basis of previously inferred laws. If we know by previous inductions that no C2 is D, then observation is not needed to eliminate the second hypothesis of (2), and we can infer that what remains, or the residue, gives us the sufficient condition for D. Where an alternative is eliminated by previous inductions, we are said to use the method of residues. The methods may be generalized to cover quantitative laws. A cause of Q may be taken not to be a necessary and sufficient condition, but a factor P on whose magnitude the magnitude of Q functionally depends. If P varies when Q varies, then one can use methods of elimination to infer that P causes Q. This has been called the method of concomitant variation. More complicated methods are needed to infer what precisely is the function that correlates the two magnitudes. Clearly, if we are to conclude that one of (1) is true on the basis of the given data, we need an additional premise to the effect that there is at least one necessary condition for B and it is among the set consisting of A1 and A2. 4065m-r.qxd 08/02/1999 7:42 AM Page 571 Mimamsa mimesis 572 The existence claim here is known as a principle of determinism and the delimited range of alternatives is known as a principle of limited variety. Similar principles are needed for the other methods. Such principles are clearly empirical, and must be given prior inductive support if the methods of elimination are to be conclusive. In practice, generic scientific theories provide these principles to guide the experimenter. Thus, on the basis of the observations that justified Kepler’s laws, Newton was able to eliminate all hypotheses concerning the force that moved the planets about the sun save the inverse square law, provided that he also assumed as applying to this specific sort of system the generic theoretical framework established by his three laws of motion, which asserted that there exists a force accounting for the motion of the planets (determinism) and that this force satisfies certain conditions, e.g., the action-reaction law (limited variety). The eliminative methods constitute the basic logic of the experimental method in science. They were first elaborated by Francis Bacon (see J. Weinberg, Abstraction, Relation, and Induction, 1965). They were restated by Hume, elaborated by J. F. W. Herschel, and located centrally in scientific methodology by J. S. Mill. Their structure was studied from the perspective of modern developments in logic by Keynes, W. E. Johnson, and especially Broad. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Grice to the Mill,” G. L. Brook, “Mill’s Mentalism”, Sutherland, “Mill in Dodgson’s Semiotics.”

Icon: Iconicity and mimesis. Grice: “If it hurts, you involuntarily go ‘Ouch.’ ‘Ouch’ can voluntarily become a vehicle for communication, under voluntary control. But we must allow for any expression to become a vehicle for communication, even if there is no iconic or mimetic association -- (from Greek mimesis, ‘imitation’), the modeling of one thing on another, or the presenting of one thing by another; imitation. The concept played a central role in the account formulated by Plato and Aristotle of what we would now call the fine arts. The poet, the dramatist, the painter, the musician, the sculptor, all compose a mimesis of reality. Though Plato, in his account of painting, definitely had in mind that the painter imitates physical reality, the general concept of mimesis used by Plato and Aristotle is usually better translated by ‘representation’ than by ‘imitation’: it belongs to the nature of the work of art to represent, to re-present, reality. This representational or mimetic theory of art remained far and away the dominant theory in the West until the rise of Romanticism – though by no means everyone agreed with Plato that it is concrete items of physical reality that the artist represents. The hold of the mimetic theory was broken by the insistence of the Romantics that, rather than the work of art being an imitation, it is the artist who, in his or her creative activity, imitates Nature or God by composing an autonomous object. Few contemporary theorists of art would say that the essence of art is to represent; the mimetic theory is all but dead. In part this is a reflection of the power of the Romantic alternative to the mimetic theory; in part it is a reflection of the rise to prominence over the last century of nonobjective, abstract painting and sculpture and of “absolute” instrumental music. Nonetheless, the phenomenon of representation has not ceased to draw the attention of theorists. In recent years three quite different general theories of representation have appeared: Nelson Goodman’s (The Languages of Art), Nicholas Wolterstorff’s (Works and Worlds of Art), and Kendall Walton’s (Mimesis as Make-Believe). Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Aristotle’s mimesis and Paget’s ta-ta theory of communication.”

Ta-ta: Paget: author beloved by Grice, inventor of what Grice calls the “ta-ta” theory of communication.

Grice’s bellow -- “Ouch” – Grice’s theory of communication in “Meaning revisited.” Grice’s paradox of the ta-ta. Why would a simulation of pain be taken as a sign of pain if the sendee recognises that the emisor is simulating a ‘causally provoked,’ rather than under voluntary control, expression of pain. Grice’s wording is subtle and good. “Stage one in the operation involves the supposition that the creature actually voluntarily produces a certain sort of behaviour which is such that its nonvoluntary production would be evidence that the creature is, let us say, in pain.” Cf. Ockham, ‘risus naturaliter significat interiorem laetitiam.’ But the laughter does NOT resemble the inner joy. There is natural causality, but not iconicity. So what Grice and Ockham are after is ‘artificial laughter’ which does imitate (mimic) natural laughter. “Risus significat naturaliter interiorem laetitiam.” “Risus voluntaries significat NON-naturaliter interiorem laetitiam.” Ockham wants to say that it is via the iconicity of the artificial laughter that the communication is effected. So if ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny, non-natural communication recapitulates natural communication. “Risus voluntarius non-significat naturaliter (via risus involutarius significans naturaliter) interiorem laetitiam.  “The kinds of cases of this which come most obviously to mind will be cases of faking or deception.” “A creature normally voluntarily produces behaviour not only when, but *because*, its nonvoluntary production would be evidence that the creature is in a certain state, with the effect that the rest of the world, other creatures around, treat the production, which is in fact voluntary, as if it were a nonvoluntary production.” “That is, they come to just the same conclusion about the creature’s being in the state in question, the signalled state.” Note Grice’s technical use of Shannon’s ‘signal.’  “The purpose of the creature’s producing the behaviour voluntarily would be so that the rest of the world should think that it is in the state which the nonvoluntary production would signify.”  Note that at this point, while it is behaviour that signifies – the metabolia has to apply ultimately to the emisor. So that it is the creature who signifies – or it signifies. The fact that Grice uses ‘it’ for the creature is telling – For, if Grice claims that only rational Homo sapiens can communicate, Homo sapiens is an ‘it.’  “In stage two not only does creature X produce this behaviour voluntarily, instead of nonvoluntarily, as in the primitive state.” By primitive he means Stage 0. “… but we also assume that it is *recognised* by another creature Y, involved with X in some transaction, as being the voluntary production of certain form of behaviour the nonvoluntary production of which evidences, say, pain.” So again, there is no iconicity. Does the “Ouch” in Stage 0 ‘imitate’ the pain. How can ‘pain,’ which is a state of the soul, be ‘imitated’ via a physical, material, medium? There are ways. Pain may involve some discomfort in the soul. The cry, “Ouch,” involuntary, ‘imitates this disturbance or discomfort. But what about inner joy and the laughter. Ape studies have demonstrated that the show of teeth is a sign of agreession. It’s not Mona Lisa’s smile. So Mona Lisa’s inner joy is signified by her smile. Is this iconic? Is there a resemblance or imitation here? Yes. Because the inner joy is the opposite of discomfort, and the distended muscles around the mouth resemble the distended state of the immaterial soul of Mona Lisa. As a functionalist, Grice was also interested in the input. What makes Mona Lisa smile? What makes you to utter “Ouch” when you step on a thorn? Is the disturbance (of pain, since this is the example Grice uses) or the distension of joy resemble the external stimulus? Yes. Because a thorn on the ground is NOT to be there – it is a disturbance of the environment. Looking at Leonardo da Vinci who actually is commanding, “Smile!” is enough of a stimulus for “The Gioconda” to become what Italians call ‘the gioconda.’  “That is, creature X is now supposed not just to simulate pain-behaviour, but also to be recognised as simulating pain-behaviour.” “The import of the recognition by Y that the production is voluntary UNDERMINES, of course, any tendency on the part of Y to come to the conclusion that creature X is in pain.” “So, one might ask, what would be required to restore the situation: what COULD be ADDED which would be an ‘antidote,’ so to speak, to the dissolution on the part of Y of the idea that X is in pain?” “A first step in this direction would be to go to what we might think of as stage three.” “Here, we suppose that creature Y not only recognises that the behaviour is voluntary on the part of X, but also recognises that X *intends* Y to recognise HIS [no longer its] behaviour as voluntary.” “That is, we have now undermined the idea that this is a straightforward piece of deception.” “Deceiving consists in trying to get a creature to accept certain things AS SIGNS [but cf. Grice on words not being signs in ‘Meaning’] as something or other without knowing that this is a faked case.” “Here,  however, we would have a sort of perverse faked case, in which something is faked but at the same time a clear indication is put in that the faking has been done.” Cf. Warhol on Campbell soup and why Aristotle found ‘mimesis’ so key “Creature Y can be thought of as initially BAFFLED by this conflicting performance.” “There is this creature, as it were, simulating pain, but announcing, in a certain sense, that this is what IT [again it, not he] is doing.” “What on earth can IT be up to?” “It seems to me that if Y does raise the question of why X should be doing this, it might first come up with the idea that X is engaging in some form of play or make-believe, a game to which, since X’s behaviour is seemingly directed TOWARDS Y [alla Kurt Lewin], Y is EXPECTED OR INTENDED to make some appropriate contribution. “Cases susceptible of such an interpretation I regard as belonging to stage four.” “But, we may suppose, there might be cases which could NOT be handled in this way.” “If Y is to be expected to be a fellow-participant with X in some form of play, it ought to be possible for Y to recognise what kind of contribution Y [the sendee – the signalee] is supposed to make; and we can envisage the possibility that Y has no clue on which to base such recognition, or again that though SOME form of contribution seems to be SUGGESTED, when Y obliges by coming up with it, X, instead of producing further pain-behaviour, gets cross and perhaps repeats its original, and now problematic, performance.” [“Ouch!”].  “We now reach stage five, at which Y supposes not that X is engaged in play, but that what X is doing is trying to get Y to believe OR ACCEPT THAT X *is* in pain.” That is, not just faking that he is in pain, but faking that he is in pain because he IS in pain. Surely the pain cannot be that GROSS if he has time to consider all this! So “communicating pain” applies to “MINOR pain,” which the Epicureans called “communicable pains” (like a tooth-ache – Vitters after reading Diels, came up with the idea that Marius was wrong and that a tooth-pain is NOT communicable!  “: that is, trying to get Y to believe in or accept the presence of that state in X which the produced behaviour, when produced NONVOLUNTARILY, in in fact a natural sign of, naturally means.” Here the under-metabolis is avoidable: “when produced nonvolutarily, in in fact THE EFFECT OF, or the consequence of.” And if you want to avoid ending a sentence with a preposition: “that STATE in X of which the produced behaviour is the CONSEQUENCE or EFFECT. CAUSATUM. The causans-causatum distinction.  “More specifically, one might say that at stage five, creature Y recognises that creature X in the first place INTENDS that Y recognise the production of the sign of pain (of what is USUALLY the sign of pain) to be voluntary, and further intends that Y should regard this first intention I1 as being a sufficient reason for Y to BELIEVE that X is in pain.” But would that expectation occur in a one-off predicament? “And that X has these intentions because he has the additional further INTENTION I3 that Y should not MERELY have sufficient REASON for believing that X is in pain, but should actually [and AND] believe it.” This substep shows that for Grice it’s the INFLUENCING and being influenced by others (or the institution of decision), rather than the exchange of information (giving and receiving information), which is basic. The protreptic, not the exhibitive. “Whether or not in these circumstances X will not merely recognise that X intends, in a certain rather QUEER way, to get Y to believe that X is in pain, whether Y not only recognises this but actually goes on to believe that X is in pain, would presumably DEPEND on a FURTHER SET OF CONDITIONS which can be summed up under the general heading that Y should regard X as TRUSTWORTHY [as a good meta-faker!] in one or another of perhaps a variety of ways.” This is Grice’s nod to G. J. Warnock’s complex analysis of the variety of ways in which one can be said to be ‘trustworthy’ – last chapter of ‘trustworthiness in conversation,’ in Warnock’s brilliant, “The object of morality.” “For example, suppose Y thinks that, either in general or at least in THIS type of CASE [this token, a one-off predicament? Not likely!] X would NOT want Y to believe that X is in pain UNLESS [to use R. Hall and H. L. A. Hart’s favourite excluder defeater] X really WERE in pain.” [Cf. Hardie, “Why do you use the subjunctive?” “Were Hardie to be here, I would respond!” – Grice]. “Suppose also (this would perhaps not apply to a case of pain but might apply to THE COMMUNICATION of other states [what is communicated is ONLY a state of the soul] that Y also believes that X is trustworthy, not just in the sense of not being malignant [malevolent, ill-willed, maleficent], but also in the sense of being, as it were, in general [semiotically] responsible, for example, being the sort of creature, who takes adequate trouble to make sure that what HE [not it] is trying to get the other creature to believe is in fact the case.” Sill, “’I have a toothache” never entails that the emisor has a toothache! – a sign is anything we can lie with!” (Eco). “… and who is not careless, negligent, or rash.” “Then, given the general fulfilment of the idea that Y regards X either in general or in this particular case of being trustworthy in this kind of competent, careful, way, one would regard it as RATIONAL [reasonable] not only for Y to recognise these intentions on the part of X that Y should have certain beliefs about X’s being in pain, but also for Y actually to pass to adopting these beliefs.” Stage six annuls mimesis, or lifts  the requirement of mimesis – “we relax this requirement.” “As Judith Baker suggests, it would be unmanly to utter (or ‘let out’) a (natural) bellow!” Here Grice speaks of the decibels of the emission of the bellow – as indicating this or that degree of pain. But what about “It’s raining.” We have a state of affairs (not necessarily a state in the soul of the emissor). So by relaxing the requirement, the emissor chooses a behaviour which is “suggestive, in some recognizable way” with the state of affairs of rain “without the performance having to be the causal effect of (or ‘response to,’ as Grice also has it) that state of affairs, sc. that it is raining.  The connection becomes “non-natural,” or ‘artificial’: any link will do – as long as the correlation is OBVIOUS, pre-arranged, or foreknown. – ‘one-off predicament’. There are problems with ‘stage zero’ and ‘stage six.’ When it comes to stage zero, Grice is supposing, obviously that a state of affairs is the CAUSE of some behaviour in a creature – since there is no interpretant – the phenomenon may very obliquely called ‘semiotic.’ “If a tree falls in the wood and nobody is listening…” – So stage zero need not involve a mimetic aspect. Since stage one involves ‘pain,’ i.e. the proposition that ‘X is in pain,’ as Grice has it. Or as we would have it, ‘A is in pain’ or ‘The emisor is in pain.’ Althought he uses the metaphor of the play where B is expected or intended to make an appropriate contribution or move in the game, it is one of action, he will have to accept that ‘The emisor is in pain’ and act appropriately. But Grice is not at all interested in the cycle of what B might do – as Gardiner is, when he talks of a ‘conversational dyad.’ Grice explores the conversational ‘dyad’ in his Oxford lectures on the conversational imlicaturum. A poetic line might not do but: “A: I’m out of gas.” B: “There’s a garage round the corner.” – is the conversational dyad. In B’s behaviour, we come to see that he has accepted that A is out of gas. And his ‘appropriate contribution’ in the game goes beyond that acceptance – he makes a ‘sentence’ move (“There is a garage round the corner.”). So strictly a conversational implicaturum is the communicatum by the second item in a conversational dyad. Now there are connections to be made between stage zero and stage six. Why? Well, because stage six is intended to broaden the range of propositions that are communicated to be OTHER than a ‘state’ in the emisor – X is in pain --. But Grice does not elaborate on the ‘essential psychological attitude’ requirement. Even if we require this requirement – Grice considers two requirements. The requirement he is interested in relaxing is that of the CAUSAL connection – he keeps using ‘natural’ misleadingly --. But can he get rid of it so easily? Because in stage six, if the emisor wants to communicate that the cat is on the mat, or that it is raining, it will be via his BELIEF that the cat is on the mat or that it is raining. The cat being on the mat or it being raining would CAUSE the emisor to have that belief. Believing is the CAUSAL consequence. Grice makes a comparison between the mimesis or resemblance of a bellow produced voluntarily or not – and expands on the decibels. The ‘information’ one may derive at stage 0 of hearing an emisor (who is unaware that he is being observed) is one that is such and such – and it is decoded by de-correlating the decibels of the bellow. More decibels, higher pain. There is a co-relation here. Grice ventures that perhaps that’s too much information (he is following someone’s else objection). Why would not X just ‘let out a natural bellow.’ Grice states there are – OBVIOUSLY – varioius reasons why he would not – the ‘obviously’ implicates the objection is silly (typical tutee behaviour).  The first is charming. Grice, seeing the gender of the tutee, says that it woud be UNMANLY for A to let out a natural bellow. He realizes that ‘unmanly’ may be considered ‘artless sexism’ (this is the late mid-70s, and in the provinces!) – So he turns the ‘unmanly’ into the charmingly Oxonian, “ or otherwise uncreaturely.” – which is a genial piece of ironic coinage! Surely ‘manly’ and ‘unmanly,’ if it relates to ‘Homo sapiens,’ need not carry a sexist implicaturum. Another answer to the obvious objection that Grice gives relates to the level of informativeness – the ‘artificial’ (as he calls it) – His argument is that if one takes Aristotle’s seriously, and the ‘artificial bellow’ is to ‘imitate’ the ‘natural bellow,’ it may not replicate ALL THE ‘FEATURES’ – which is the expression Grice uses --  he means semiotic distinctive feature --. So he does not have to calculate the ‘artificial bellow’ to correlate exactly to the quantity of decibels that the ‘natural bellow’ does. This is important from a CAUSAL point of view, or in terms of Grice’s causal theory of behaviour. A specific pain (prooked by Stimulus S1) gives the RESPONSE R2 – with decibels D1. A different stimulus S2 woud give a different RESPONSE R2, with different decibels D2. So Grice is exploring the possibility of variance here. In a causal involuntary scenario, there is nothing the creature can do. The stimulus Sn will produce the creature Cn to be such that its response is Rn (where Rn is a response with decibels – this being the semiotic distinctive feature Fn – Dn. When it comes to the ‘artificial bellow,’ the emisor’s only point is to express the proposition, ‘I am in pain,’ and not ‘I am in pain such that it causes a natural bellow of decibels Dn,” which would flout the conversational postulate of conversational fortitude. The overinformativeness would baffle the sendee, if not the sender). At this point there is a break in the narrative, and Grice, in a typical Oxonian way, goes on to say, “But then, we might just as well relax the requirement that the proposition concerns a state of the sender.” He gives no specific example, but refers to a ‘state of affairs’ which does NOT involve a state of the sender – AND ONE TO WHICH, HOWEVER, THE SENDER RESPONDS with a behaviour. I. e. the state of the affairs, whatever it is, is the stimulus, and the creature’s behaviour is the response. While ‘The cat is on the mat’ or ‘It is raining’ does NOT obviously ‘communicate’ that the sender BELIEVES that to be, the ‘behaviour’ which is the response to the external state of affairs is mediated by this state – this is pure functionalism. So, in getting at stage six – due to the objection by his tutee – he must go back to stage zero. Now, he adds MANY CRUCIAL features with these relaxations of the requirements. Basically he is getting at GRICESE. And what he says is very jocular. He knows he is lecturing to ‘service professionals,’ not philosophers, so he keep adding irritating notes for them (but which we philosophers find charming), “and we get to something like what people are getting at (correctly, I would hope) when they speak of a semiotic system!” These characteristics are elaborated under ‘gricese’ – But in teleological terms they can even be ordered. What is the order that Grice uses? At this stage, he has already considered in detail the progression, with his ‘the dog is shaggy,’ so we know where he is getting at – but he does not want to get philosophically technical at the lecture. He is aiming then at compositionality. There is utterance-whole and utterance-part, or as he prefers ‘complete utterance’ and ‘non-complete utterance’. ‘dog’ and ‘shaggy’ would be non-complete. So the external ‘state of affairs’ is Grice’s seeing that Strawson’s dog is shaggy and wanting to communicate this to Pears (Grice co-wrote an essay only with two Englishmen, these being Strawson and Pears – ‘The three Englishmen’s essay,’ as he called it’ --. So there is a state of affairs, pretty harmless, Strawson’s dog is being shaggy – perhaps he needs a haircut, or some brooming. “Shaggy” derives from ‘shag’ plus –y, as in ‘’twas brillig.’ – so this tells that it is an adjectival or attribute predication – of the feature of being ‘shaggy’ to ‘dog.’ When the Anglo-Saxons first used ‘dog’ – the Anglo-Saxon ‘Adam,’ he should have used ‘hound’. Grice is not concerned at the point with ‘dog,’ since he KNOWS that Strawson’s dog is “Fido” – dogs being characteristically faithful and the Strawsons not being very original – “I kid” --. In this case, we need a ‘communication function.’ The sender perceives that Fido is shaggy and forms the proposition ‘Fido is shaggy.’ This is via his belief, caused by his seeing that Fido is shaggy. He COMPOSES a complete utterance. He could just utter, elliptically, ‘shaggy’ – but under quieter circumstances, he manages to PREDICATE ‘shagginess’ to Strawson’s dog – and comes out with “Fido is shaggy.” That is all the ‘syntactics’ that Gricese needs (Palmer, “Remember when all we had to care about was nouns and verbs?”) (Strictly, “I miss the good old days when all we had to care was nouns and verbs”). Well here we have a ‘verb,’ “is,” and a noun – “nomen adjectivum” – or ‘adjective noun’, shaggy. Grice is suggesting that the lexicon (or corpus) is hardly relevant. What is important is the syntax. Having had to read Chomsky under Austin’s tutelage (they spent four Saturday mornings with the Mouton paperback, and Grice would later send a letter of recommendation on one of his tutees for study with Chomsky overseas). But Grice has also read Peano. So he needs a set of FINITE set of formation rules – that will produce an INFINITE SET of ‘sentences’ where Grice highers the decibels when he says ‘infinite,’ hoping it will upset the rare Whiteheadian philosopher in the audience! Having come up with “Fido is shaggy,’ the sender sends it to the sendee. “Any link will do” – The link is ‘arranged’ somehow – arranged simpliciter in a one-off predicament, or pre-arranged in two-off predicament, etc. Stages 2, 3, 4, and 5 – have all to do with ‘trustworthy’ – which would one think otiose seeing that Sir John Lyons has said that prevarication in the golden plover and the Homo sapiens is an essential feature of language! (But we are at the Oxford of Warnock!). So, the sender sends “Fido is shaggy,’ and Pears gets it. He takes Grice to be expressing his belief that Strawson’s dog is shaggy, and comes not only to accept that Grice believes this, but to accept that Strawson’s dog is shaggy. As it happens, Pears recommends a bar of soap to make his hairs at least look ‘cuter.’ Refs.: H. P. Grice, “A teleological model of communication.”

minimal transformationalism. Grice: “I wonder where Chomsky got the idea of a ‘transformation’?” -- Grice was proud that his system PIROTESE ‘allowed for the most minimal transformations.” transformational grammar Philosophy of language The most powerful of the three kinds of grammar distinguished by Chomsky. The other two are finite-state grammar and phrasestructure grammar. Transformational grammar is a replacement for phrase-structure grammar that (1) analyzes only the constituents in the structure of a sentence; (2) provides a set of phrase-structure rules that generate abstract phrase-structure representations; (and 3) holds that the simplest sentences are produced according to these rules. Transformational grammar provides a further set of transformational rules to show that all complex sentences are formed from simple elements. These rules manipulate elements and otherwise rearrange structures to give the surface structures of sentences. Whereas phrase-structure rules only change one symbol to another in a sentence, transformational rules show that items of a given grammatical form can be transformed into items of a different grammatical form. For example, they can show the transformation of negative sentences into positive ones, question sentences into affirmative ones and passive sentences into active ones. Transformational grammar is presented as an improvement over other forms of grammar and provides a model to account for the ability of a speaker to generate new sentences on the basis of limited data. “The central idea of transformational grammar is determined by repeated application of certain formal operations called ‘grammatical transformations’ to objects of a more elementary sort.” Chomsky, Aspects of the Theory of Syntax. Refs.: Luigi Speranza, “Grice: “Some like Quine, but Chomsky’s MY man,” per il Club Anglo-Italiano, The Swimming-Pool Library, Villa Grice, Liguria, Italia.

miracle, an extraordinary event brought about by God. In the medieval understanding of nature, objects have certain natural powers and tendencies to exercise those powers under certain circumstances. Stones have the power to fall to the ground, and the tendency to exercise that power when liberated from a height. A miracle is then an extraordinary event in that it is not brought about by any object exercising its natural powers – e.g., a liberated stone rising in the air – but brought about directly by God. In the modern understanding of nature, there are just events (states of objects) and laws of nature that determine which events follow which other events. There is a law of nature that heavy bodies when liberated fall to the ground. A miracle is then a “violation” of a law of nature by God. We must understand by a law a principle that determines what happens unless there is intervention from outside the natural order, and by a “violation” such an intervention. There are then three problems in identifying a miracle. The first is to determine whether an event of some kind, if it occurred, would be a violation of a law of nature (beyond the natural power of objects to bring about). To know this we must know what are the laws of nature. The second problem is to find out whether such an event did occur on a particular occasion. Our own memories, the testimony of witnesses, and physical traces will be the historical evidence of this, but they can mislead. And the evidence from what happened on other occasions that some law L is a law of nature is evidence supporting the view that on the occasion in question L was operative, and so there was no violation. Hume claimed that in practice there has never been enough historical evidence for a miracle to outweigh the latter kind of counterevidence. Finally, it must be shown that God was the cause of the violation. For that we need grounds from natural theology for believing that there is a God and that this is the sort of occasion on which he is likely to intervene in nature.

misfire: used by Grice in Meaning Revisited. Cf. Austin. “When the utterance is a misfire, the procedure which we purport to invoke is disallowed or is botched: and our act (marrying, etc.) is void or without effect, etc. We speak of our act as a purported act, or perhaps an attempt, or we use such an expression as ‘went through a form of marriaage’ by contrast with ‘married.’ If somebody issues a performative utterance, and the  utterance is classed as a misfire because the procedure  invoked is not accepted , it is presumably persons other  than the speaker who do not accept it (at least if the  speaker is speaking seriously ). What would be an ex-  ample ? Consider ‘I divorce you*, said to a wife by her  husband in a Christian country, and both being Chris-  tians rather than Mohammedans. In this case it might  be said, ‘nevertheless he has not (successfully) divorced  her: we admit only some other verbal or non-verbal pro-  cedure’; or even possibly ‘we (we) do not admit any  procedure at all for effecting divorce — marriage is indis-  soluble’. This may be carried so far that we reject what  may be called a whole code of procedure, e.g. the code of  honour involving duelling: for example, a challenge may  be issued by ‘my seconds will call on you’, which is  equivalent to ‘ I challenge you’, and we merely shrug it off  The general position is exploited in the unhappy story of  Don Quixote.   Of course, it will be evident that it is comparatively  simple if we never admit any ‘such’ procedure at all —  that is, any procedure at all for doing that sort of thing,  or that procedure anyway for doing that particular thing.  But equally possible are the cases where we do sometimes  — in certain circumstances or at certain hands — accept     n n^A/'Q/1n  U UlUVlfU u     plUVWUiV/, ULIL UW 111     T\llt 1 n nrttT at* amaiitvwifnnaati at* af   ULIL 111 ttllj UL1U/1 L/llCUllli3Lail\/^ KJL CIL     other hands. And here we may often be in doubt (as in      28     Horn to do things with Words     the naming example above) whether an infelicity should  be brought into our present class A. i or rather into  A. 2 (or even B. i or B. 2). For example, at a party, you  say, when picking sides, ‘I pick George’: George grunts  ‘I’m not playing.’ Has George been picked? Un-  doubtedly, the situation is an unhappy one. Well, we  may say, you have not picked George, whether because  there is no convention that you can pick people who  aren’t playing or because George in the circumstances is  an inappropriate object for the procedure of picking. Or  on a desert island you may say to me ‘Go and pick up  wood’; and I may say 4 1 don’t take orders from you’ or  ‘you’re not entitled to give me orders’ — I do not take  orders from you when you try to ‘assert your authority’  (which I might fall in with but may not) on a desert  island, as opposed to the case when you are the captain  on a ship and therefore genuinely have authority.

missum: If Grice uses psi-transmission (and emission, when he speaks of ‘pain,’ and the decibels of the emission of a bellow) he also uses transmission, and mission, transmissum, and missum. Grice was out on a mission. Grice uses ‘emissor,’ but then there’s the ‘missor.’ This is in key with modern communication theory as instituted by Shannon. The ‘missor’ ‘sends’ a ‘message’ to a recipient – or missee. But be careful, he may miss it. In any case, it shows that e-missor is a compound of ‘ex-‘ plus ‘missor,’ so that makes sense. It transliterates Grice’s ut-terer (which literally means ‘out-erer’). And then there’s the prolatum, from proferre, which has the professor, as professing that p, that is. As someone said, if H. P. Girce were to present a talk to the Oxford Philosophical Society he would possibly call it “Messaging.” c. 1300, "a communication transmitted via a messenger, a notice sent through some agency," from Old French message "message, news, tidings, embassy" (11c.), from Medieval Latin missaticum, from Latin missus "a sending away, sending, dispatching; a throwing, hurling," noun use of past participle of mittere "to release, let go; send, throw" (see mission). The Latin word is glossed in Old English by ærende. Specific religious sense of "divinely inspired communication via a prophet" (1540s) led to transferred sense of "the broad meaning (of something)," which is attested by 1828. To get the message "understand" is by 1960.

m’naghten: a rule in England’s law defining legal insanity for purposes of creating a defense to criminal liability: legal insanity is any defect of reason, due to disease of the mind, that causes an accused criminal either not to know the nature and quality of his act, or not to know that his act was morally or legally wrong. Adopted in the Edward Drummond-M’Naghten case in England in 1843, the rule harks back to the responsibility test for children, which was whether they were mature enough to know the difference between right and wrong. The rule is alternatively viewed today as being either a test of a human being’s general status as a moral agent or a test of when an admitted moral agent is nonetheless excused because of either factual or moral/legal mistakes. On the first (or status) interpretation of the rule, the insane are exempted from criminal liability because they, like young children, lack the rational agency essential to moral personhood. On the second (or mistake) interpretation of the rule, the insane are exempted from criminal liability because they instantiate the accepted moral excuses of mistake or ignorance. Refs.: H. P. Grice and H. L. A. Hart, ‘Legal rules;’ D. F. Pears, “Motivated irrationality.”

mnemic causation, a type of causation in which, in order to explain the proximate cause of an organism’s behaviour, it is necessary to specify not only the present state of the organism and the present stimuli operating upon it, but also this or that past experience of the organism. The term was introduced by Russell in The Analysis of Mind, and borrowed, but never returned, by Grice for his Lockeian logical construction of personal identity or “I” in terms of an chain of mnemonic temporary states. “Unlike Russell, I distinguish between the mnemic and the mnemonic.”

Modus -- mode of co-relation: a technical jargon, under ‘mode’ – although Grice uses ‘c’ to abbreviate it, and sometimes speaks of ‘way’ of ‘co-relation’ – but ‘mode’ was his favourite.  Grice is not sure whether ‘mode’ ‘of’ and ‘correlation’ are the appropriate terms. Grice speaks of an associative mode of correlation – vide associatum. He also speaks of a conventional mode of correlation (or is it mode of conventional correlation) – vide non-conventional, and he speaks of an iconic mode of correlation, vide non-iconic. Indeed he speaks once of ‘conventional correlation’ TO THE ASSOCIATED  specific response. So the mode is rather otiose. In the context when he uses ‘conventional correlation’ TO THE ASSOCIATED specific response, he uses ‘way’ rather than mode – Grice wants ‘conventional correlation’ TO THE ASSOCIATED specific RESPONSE to be just one way, or mode. There’s ASSOCIATIVE correlation, and iconic correlation, and ‘etc.’ Strictly, as he puts it, this or that correlation is this or that provision of a way in which the expressum is correlated to a specific response. When symbolizing he uses the informal “correlated in way c with response r’ – having said that ‘c’ stands for ‘mode of correlation.’ But ‘mode sounds too pretentious, hence his retreat to the more flowing ‘way.’  Modus – modelllo -- model theory: Grice, “The etymology of ‘model’ is fascinating.”  H. P. Grice, “A conversational model.” Grice: “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.” Grice: “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 conversational implicaturum is present, I would suggest that the final tess  of the adequacy and utility of this MODEL should be various. First: can the model be used to construct an explanation (argumentum) of the presence of this or that conversational implicaturum? Second, is the model it more comprehensive than any rival in providing this explanation? Third, is the model more economical than any rival in providing this explanation? Fourth, is the no doubt pre-theoretical (antecedent) explanation which one would be prompted to give of such a conversational implicaturum consistent with the requirements involved in the model. Fifth: is the no doubt pre-threoretical (antecedent) explanation which one would be prompted to give of such a conversational implciaturum  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 vernacvlis implicatvris in retia sva præcipites implagabvntur syllogismis tuæ propositionis vncatis volvbilem tergiversantvm lingvam inhamantibvs dum spiris categoricis lvbricas qvæstiones tv potivs innodas acrivm more medicorvm qui remedivm contra venena cvm ratio compellit et de serpente conficivnt. 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 vernacvlis IMPILICATVRIS in retia sva 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 cvm ratio compellit et de serpente conficivnt. So Grice has the phenomenon: the conversational implcaturum – the qualifying adjective is crucial, since surely he is not interested in non-conventional NON-conversational implicatura derived from moral maxims! --. And then he needs a MODEL – that of the principle or postulate of conversational benevolence. It fits the various requirements. First: the model can be used to construct an explanation (argumentum) of the presence of this or that conversational implicaturum. Second, REQUIREMENT OF PHILOSOPHICAL GENERALITY --  the model is more comprehensive than any rival. Third, the OCCAM requirement: the model is more ECONOMICAL than any rival – in what sense? – “in providing this explanation” of this or that conversational implicaturum. Fourth, the J. L. Austin requirement, this or that requirement involved in the model is SURELY consistent with the no doubt pre-theoretical antecedent explanation (argumentum) that one would be prompted to give. Fifth, the second J. L. Austin requirement: towards this or that requirement involved in the model the no-doubt pre-theoretical (antecedent) explanation (argument) that one would be prompted to give is, better still, a favourable pointer. Grice’s oversuse of ‘model’ is due to Max Black, who understands model theory as a branch of philosophical semantics that deals with the connection between a language and its interpretations or structures. Basic to it is the characterization of the conditions under which a sentence is true in structure. It is confusing that the term ‘model’ itself is used slightly differently: a model for a sentence is a structure for the language of the sentence in which it is true. Model theory was originally developed for explicitly constructed, formal languages, with the purpose of studying foundational questions of mathematics, but was later applied to the semantical analysis of empirical theories, a development initiated by the Dutch philosopher Evert Beth, and of natural languages, as in Montague grammar. More recently, in situation theory, we find a theory of semantics in which not the concept of truth in a structure, but that of information carried by a statement about a situation, is central. The term ‘model theory’ came into use in the 0s, with the work on first-order model theory by Tarski, but some of the most central results of the field date from before that time. The history of the field is complicated by the fact that in the 0s and 0s, when the first model-theoretic findings were obtained, the separation between first-order logic and its extensions was not yet completed. Thus, in 5, there appeared an article by Leopold Löwenheim, containing the first version of what is now called the Löwenheim-Skolem theorem. Löwenheim proved that every satisfiable sentence has a countable model, but he did not yet work in firstorder logic as we now understand it. One of the first who did so was the Norwegian logician Thoralf Skolem, who showed in 0 that a set of first-order sentences that has a model, has a countable model, one form of the LöwenheimSkolem theorem. Skolem argued that logic was first-order logic and that first-order logic was the proper basis for metamathematical investigations, fully accepting the relativity of set-theoretic notions in first-order logic. Within philosophy this thesis is still dominant, but in the end it has not prevailed in mathematical logic. In 0 Kurt Gödel solved an open problem of Hilbert-Ackermann and proved a completeness theorem for first-order logic. This immediately led to another important model-theoretic result, the compactness theorem: if every finite subset of a set of sentences has a model then the set has a model. A good source for information about the model theory of first-order logic, or classical model theory, is still Model Theory by C. C. Chang and H. J. Keisler 3. When the separation between first-order logic and stronger logics had been completed and the model theory of first-order logic had become a mature field, logicians undertook in the late 0s the study of extended model theory, the model theory of extensions of first-order logic: first of cardinality quantifiers, later of infinitary languages and of fragments of second-order logic. With so many examples of logics around  where sometimes classical theorems did generalize, sometimes not  Per Lindström showed in 9 what sets first-order logic apart from its extensions: it is the strongest logic that is both compact and satisfies the LöwenheimSkolem theorem. This work has been the beginning of a study of the relations between various properties logics may possess, the so-called abstract model. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “The postulate of conversational co-operation,” Oxford.

senofane: “Or as Strawson would prefer, Xenophanes, but since he emigrated to Italy, we might just as well use an “S”” – Grice. Grice: “You have to be careful when you research for this in Italy – they spell it with an ‘s’!” --  Grecian philosopher, a proponent of an idealized conception of the divine, and the first of the pre-Socratics to propound epistemological views. Born in Colophon, an Ionian Grecian city on the coast of Asia Minor, he emigrated as a young man to the Grecian West Sicily and southern Italy. The formative influence of the Milesians is evident in his rationalism. He is the first of the pre-Socratics for whom we have not only ancient reports but also quite a few verbatim quotations  fragments from his “Lampoons” Silloi and from other didactic poetry. Xenophanes attacks the worldview of Homer, Hesiod, and traditional Grecian piety: it is an outrage that the poets attribute moral failings to the gods. Traditional religion reflects regional biases blond gods for the Northerners; black gods for the Africans. Indeed, anthropomorphic gods reflect the ultimate bias, that of the human viewpoint “If cattle, or horses, or lions . . . could draw pictures of the gods . . . ,” frg. 15. There is a single “greatest” god, who is not at all like a human being, either in body or in mind; he perceives without the aid of organs, he effects changes without “moving,” through the sheer power of his thought. The rainbow is no sign from Zeus; it is simply a special cloud formation. Nor are the sun or the moon gods. All phenomena in the skies, from the elusive “Twin Sons of Zeus” St. Elmo’s fire to sun, moon, and stars, are varieties of cloud formation. There are no mysterious infernal regions; the familiar strata of earth stretch down ad infinitum. The only cosmic limit is the one visible at our feet: the horizontal border between earth and air. Remarkably, Xenophanes tempers his theological and cosmological pronouncements with an epistemological caveat: what he offers is only a “conjecture.” In later antiquity Xenophanes came to be regarded as the founder of the Eleatic School, and his teachings were assimilated to those of Parmenides and Melissus. This appears to be based on nothing more than Xenophanes’ emphasis on the oneness and utter immobility of God. Refs.: Luigi Speranza, “Senofane in Italia.”

sensus -- modified Occam’s razor: Grice was obsessed with ‘sense,’ and thought Oxonian philosohpers were multiplying it otiosely – notably L. J. Cohen (“The diversity of meaning”). The original razor is what Grice would have as ‘ontological,’ to which he opposes with in his ‘ontological marxism’. Entities should not be multiplied beyond the necessity of needing them as honest working entities. He keeps open house provided they come in help with the work. This restriction explains what Grice means by ‘necessity’ in the third lecture – a second sense does not do any work. The implicaturum does.  Grice loved a razor, and being into analogy and focal meaning, if he HAD to have semantic multiplicity, for the case of ‘is,’ (being) or ‘good,’ it had to be a UNIFIED semantic multiplicity, as displayed by paronymy. The essay had circulated since the Harvard days, and it was also repr. in Pragmatics, ed. Cole for Academic Press. Personally, I prefer dialectica.  ‒ Grice. This is the third James lecture at Harvard. It is particularly useful for Grices introduction of his razor, M. O. R., or Modified Occams Razor, jocularly expressed by Grice as: Senses are not to be multiplied beyond necessity. An Englishing of the Ockhams Latinate, Entia non sunt multiplicanda præter necessitatem. But what do we mean sense. Surely Occam was right with his Entia non sunt multiplicanda præter necessitatem. We need to translate that alla linguistic turn. Grice jokes: Senses are not be multiplied beyond necessity. He also considers irony, stress (supra-segmental fourth-articulatory phonology), and truth, which the Grice Papers have under a special f. in the s. V . Three topics where the implicaturum helps. He is a scoundrel may well be the implicaturum of He is a fine friend. But cf. the pretense theory of irony. Grice, being a classicist, loved the etymological connection. With Stress, he was concerned with anti-Gettier uses of emphatic know: I KNOW. (Implicaturum: I do have conclusive evidence). Truth (or  is true) sprang from the attention by Grice to that infamous Bristol symposium between Austin and Strawson. Cf. Moores paradox. Grice wants to defend correspondence theory of Austin against the performative approach of Strawson. If  is true implicates someone previously affirmed this, that does not mean a ditto implicaturum is part of the entailment of a  is true utterance, further notes on logic and conversation, in Cole, repr. in a revised form, Modified Occams Razor, irony, stress, truth. The preferred citation should be the Harvard. This is originally the third James lecture, in a revised form.In that lecture, Grice introduced the M. O. R., or Modified Occams Razor. Senses are not be multiplied beyond necessity. The point is that entailment-cum-implicaturum does the job that multiplied senses should not do! The Grice Papers contains in a different f. the concluding section for that lecture, on irony, stress, and truth. Grice went back to the Modified Occams razor, but was never able to formalise it! It is, as he concedes, almost a vacuous methodological thingy! It is interesting that the way he defines the alethic value of true alrady cites satisfactory. I shall use, to Names such a property, not true but factually satisfactory. Grices sympathies dont lie with Strawsons Ramsey-based redundance theory of truth, but rather with Tarskis theory of correspondence. He goes on to claim his trust in the feasibility of such a theory. It is, indeed, possible to construct a theory which treats truth as (primarily) a property, not true but factually satisfactory. One may see that point above as merely verbal and not involving any serious threat. Lets also assume that it will be a consequence, or theorem, of such a theory that there will be a class C of utterances (utterances of affirmative Subjects-predicate sentences [such as snow is white or the cat is on the mat of the dog is hairy-coated such that each member of C designates or refers to some item and indicates or predicates some class (these verbs to be explained within the theory), and is factually satisfactory if the item belongs to the class. Let us also assume that there can be a method of introducing a form of expression, it is true that /it is buletic that  and linking it with the notion of factually or alethic or doxastic satisfactory, a consequence of which will be that to say it is true that Smith is happy will be equivalent to saying that any utterance of class C which designates Smith and indicates the class of happy people is factually satisfactory (that is, any utterance which assigns Smith to the class of happy people is factually satisfactory. Mutatis mutandis for Let Smith be happy, and buletic satisfactoriness. The move is Tarskian. TBy stress, Grice means suprasegmental phonology, but he was too much of a philosopher to let that jargon affect him! Refs.: The locus classicus, if that does not sound too pretentious, is Essay 3 in WoW, but there are references elsewhere, such as in “Meaning Revisited,” and under ‘semantics.’ The only one who took up Grice’s challenge at Oxford was L. J. Cohen, “Grice on the particles of natural language,” which got a great response by Oxonian R. C. S. Walker (citing D. Bostock, a tutee of Grice), to which Cohen again responded “Can the conversationalist hypothesis be defended.” Cohen clearly centres his criticism on the razor. He had an early essay, citing Grice, on the DIVERSITY of meaning. Cohen opposes Grice’s conversationalist hypothesis to his own ‘semantic hypothesis’ (“Multiply senses all you want.”). T. D. Bontly explores the topic of Grice’s MOR. “Ancestors of this essay were presented at meetings of the Society for Philosophy and Psychology (Edmonton, Alberta), of the the Pacific Division of the American Philosophical Association (San Francisco, CA) and at the University of Connecticut. I am indebted to all three groups and particularly to the commentators D. Sanford (at the Society for Philosophy and Psychology) and M. Reimer (at the APA). Thanks also to the following for helpful comments or discussion (inclusive): F. Adams, A. Ariew, P. Bloom, M. Devitt, B. Enc, C. Gaulker, M. Lynch, R. Millikan, J. Pust, E. Sober, R. C. Stalnaker, D. W. Stampe, and S. Wheeler.” Bontly writes, more or less (I have paraphrased him a little, with good intentions, always!) “Some philosophers have appealed to a principle which H. P. Grice, in his third William James lecture, dubs Modified Occam’s Razor (henceforth, “M. O. R.”): “Senses – rather than ‘entities,’ as the inceptor from Ockham more boringly has it -- are not to be multiplied beyond necessity’.” What is ‘necessity’? Bontly: “Superficially, Grice’s “M. O. R.” seems a routine application of Ockham’s principle of parsimony: ‘entities are not to be multiplied beyond necessity. Now, parsimony arguments, though common in science, are notoriously problematic, and their use by Grice faces one objection or two. Grice’s “M. O. R.” makes considerably more sense in light of certain assumptions about the psychological processes involved in language development, learning, and acquisition, and it describes recent *empirical*, if not philosophical or conceptual, of the type Grice seems mainly interested in -- findings that bear these assumptions out. [My] resulting account solves several difficulties that otherwise confront Grice’s “M. O. R.”, and it draws attention to problematic assumptions involved in using parsimony to argue for pragmatic accounts of the type of phenomena ‘ordinary-language’ philosophers were interested in. In more general terms, when an expression E has two or more uses – U1 and U2, say -- enabling its users to express two or more different meanings – M1 and M2, say -- one is tempted to assume that E is semantically (i.e. lexically) ambiguous, or polysemous, i.e., that some convention, constituting the language L, assign E these two meanings M1 and M2 corresponding to its two uses U1 and U2. One hears, for instance, that ‘or’ is ambiguous (polysemous) between a weak (inclusive) (‘p v q’) and a strong (exclusive) sense, ‘p w q.’ Grice actually feels that speaking of the meaning or sense of ‘or’ sounds harsh (“Like if I were asked what the meaning of ‘to’ is!”). But in one note from a seminar from Strawson he writes: “Jones is between Smith and Williams.” “I wouldn’t say that ‘between’ is ambiguous, even if we interpret the sentence in a physical sense, or in an ordering of merit, say.” Bontly: “Used exclusively, an utterance of ‘p or q’ (p v q) entails that ‘p’ and ‘q’ are NOT both true. Used inclusively, it does not. Still, ambiguity is not the only possible explanation.” (This reminds me of Atlas, “Philosophy WITHOUT ambiguity!” – ambitious title!). The phenomenon can also be approached pragmatically, from within the framework of a general theory conversation alla Grice. One could, e. g., first, maintain that ‘p or q’ is unambiguously monosemous inclusive and, second, apply Grice’s idea of an ‘implicaturum’ to explain the exclusive.” I actually traced this, and found that O. P. Wood in an odd review of a logic textbook (by Faris) in “Mind,” in the 1950s, makes the point about the inclusive-exclusive distinction, pre-Griceianly! Grice seems more interested, as you later consider, the implicaturum: “Utterer U has non-truth-functional grounds for uttering ‘p or q. Not really the ‘inclusive-exclusive’ distinction. Jennings deals with this in “The genealogy of disjunction,” and elsewhere, and indeed notes that ‘or’ may be a dead metaphor from ‘another.’  Bontly goes on: “On any such account, ‘p or q’ would have two uses U1 and U2 and two standard interpretations, I1 and I2, but NEVER two ‘conventional’ meanings,” M1 and M2 Or take ‘and’ (p.q) which (when used as a sentential connective) ordinarily stands for truth-functional conjunction (as in 1a, below). Often enough, though, ‘p and q’ seems to imply temporal priority (1b), while in other cases it suggests causal priority (1c). (1) a. Bill bought a shirt and Christy [bought] a sweater. b. Adam took off his shoes and [he] got into bed. c. “Jack fell down and [he] broke his crown, and Jill came tumbling o:ter.” (to rhyme with ‘water’ in an earlier line.”Apparently Grice loved this nursery rhyme too, “Jack is an Englishman; he must, therefore, be brave,” Jill says.” (Grice, “Aspects of reason.”)Bontly: “Again, one suspects an ambiguity, M1 and M2, but Grice argues that a ‘conversational’ explanation is available and preferable. According to the ‘pragmatist’ or ‘conversationalist’ hypothesis’ (as I shall call it), a temporal or a causal reading of “and” (p.q) may be part of what the UTTERER means, but such a reading I2, are not part of what the sentence means, or the word _and_ means, and thus belong in a general theory of conversation, not the grammar of a specific language.” Oddly, I once noticed that Chomsky, of all people, and since you speak of ‘grammar,’ competence, etc. refers to “A.” Albert? P. Grice in his 1966! Aspects of the theory of syntax. “A. P. Grice wants to say that the temporal succession is not part of the meaning of ‘and.’” I suspect one of Grice’s tutees at Oxford was spreading the unauthorized word! Bontly: “Many an alleged ambiguity seems amenable to Grice’s conversationalist hypothesis. Besides the sentential connectives or truth-functors, a pragmatic explanation has been applied fruitfully to quantifiers (Grice lists ‘all’ and ‘some (at least one’), definite descriptions (Grice lists ‘the,’ ‘the murderer’), the indefinite description (‘a finger’, much discussed by Grice, “He’s meeting a woman this evening.”), the genitive construction (‘Peter’s bat’), and the indirect speech act (‘Can you pass the salt?’) — to mention just a few. The literature on the Griceian treatment of these phenomena is extensive. Some classic treatments are found in the oeuvre of philosophers like Grice, Bach, Harnish, and Davis, and linguists like Horn, Gazdar, and Levinson. But the availability of a pragmatic explanation poses an interesting methodological problem. Prima facie, the alleged ‘ambiguity’ M1 and M2, can now be explained either semantically (by positing two or more senses S1 and S2, or M1 and M2, of expression E) or pragmatically (by positing just one sense (S) plus one super-imposed implicaturum, I).Sometimes, of course, one approach or the other is transparently inadequate. When the ‘use’ of E cannot be derived from a general conversational principle, the pragmatic explanation seems a non-starter.” Not for a radically radical pragmatist like Atlas! Ambitious! Similarly, an ambiguity- or polysemy- based explanation seems out of the question where the interpretation of E at issue is highly context-dependent.” (My favourite is Grice on “a,” that you analyse in term of ‘developmental’ or ontogenetical pragmatics – versus Millikan’s phylogenetical! But, in many cases, a semantic, or polysemy, and a conversational explanations both appear plausible, and the usual data — Grice’s intuitions about how the expression can and cannot be used, should or shouldn’t beused — appear to leave the choice of one of the two hypotheses under-determined.These were the cases that most interest Grice, the philosopher, since they impinge on various projects in philosophical analysis. (Cf. Grice, 1989, pp. 3–21 and passim).” Notably the ‘ordinary-language’ philosophy ‘project,’ I would think. I love the fact that in the inventory of philosophers who are loose about this (as in the reference you mention above, pp. 3-21, he includes himself in “Causal theory of perception”! “To adjudicate these border-line cases, Grice (1978) proposes a methodological principle which he dubs “Modified Occam’s Razor,” M. O. R.” ‘Senses are not to be multiplied beyond necessity.’ (1978, pp. 118–119) “(I follow Grice in using the Latinate ‘Occam’ rather than the Anglo-Saxon ‘Ockham’ which is currently preferred). More fully, the idea is that one should not posit an alleged special, stronger SENSE S2, for an expression E when a general conversational principle suffices to explain why E, which bears only Sense 1, S1, receives a certain interpretation or carries implicaturum I. Thus, if the ‘use’ (or an ‘use’) of E can be explained pragmatically, other things being equal, the use should be explained pragmatically.” Griceians appeal to M. O. R. quite often,” pragmatically bearded or not! (I love Quine’s idea that Occam’s razor was created to shave Plato’s beard. Cfr. Schiffer’s anti-shave! It is affirmed, in spirit if not letter, by philosopher/linguist Atlas and Levinson, philosopher/linguist Bach, Bach and philosopher Harnish, Horn, Levinson, Morgan, linguist/philosopher Neale, philosopher Searle, philosopher Stalnaker, philosopher Walker (of Oxford), and philosopher Ziff” (I LOVE Ziff’s use, seeing that he could be otherwise so anti-Griceian, vide Martinich, “On Ziff on Grice on meaning,” and indeed Stampe (that you mention) on Ziff on Grice on meaning. One particularly forceful statement is found in “of all people” Kripke, who derides the ambiguity hypothesis as ‘the lazy man’s approach in philosophy’ and issues a strong warning.” When I read that, I was reminded that Stampe, in some unpublished manuscripts, deals with the loose use of Griceian ideas by Kripke. Stampe discusses at length, “Let’s get out of here, the cops are coming.” Stampe thinks Kripke is only superficially a Griceian! Kripke: “‘Do not posit an ambiguity unless you are really forced to, unless there are really compelling theoretical (or intuitive) grounds to suppose that an ambiguity really is present’ (1977, p. 20). A similar idea surfaces in Ruhl’s principle of “mono-semic” bias’. One’s initial effort is directed toward determining a UNITARY meaning S1 for a lexical item E, trying to attribute apparent variations (S2) in meaning to other factors. If such an effort fails, one tries to discover a means of relating the distinct meanings S1 and S2. If this effort fails, there are several words: E1 and E2 (1989, p. 4).” Grice’s ‘vice’ and Grice’s ‘vyse,’ different words in English, same in Old Roman (“violent.”). Ruhl’s position differs from Grice’s approach. Whereas Grice takes word-meaning to be its WEAKEST exhibited meaning, Ruhl argues that word-meaning can be so highly abstract or schematic as to provide only a CORE of meaning, making EVEN the weakest familiar reading a pragmatic specialisation.” Loved that! Ruhl as more Griceian than Grice! Indeed, Grice is freely using the very abstract notion of a Fregeian ‘sense,’ with the delicacy you would treat a brick! “The difference between Grice’s and Ruhl’s positions raises issues beyond the scope of the present essay (though see Atlas, 1989, for further discussion).”  I will! Atlas knows everything you wanted to know, and more, especially when it comes to linguists! He has a later book with ‘implicaturum’ in its subtitle. “Considering the central role that “M. O. R.” plays in Grice’s programme, one is thus surprised to find barely any attention paid to whether it is a good principle — to whether it is true that a pragmatic explanation, when available, is in general more likely to be true than its ‘ambiguity’ or polysemy, or bi-semy, or aequi-vocal rival.” Trying to play with this, I see that Grice loves ‘aequi-vocal.’ He thinks that ‘must’ is ‘aequi-vocal’ between an alethic and a practical ‘use.’ It took me some time to process that! He means that since it’s the ‘same,’ ‘aequi’, ‘voice’, vox’. So ‘aequi-vocal’ IS ‘uni-vocal.’ The Aristotelian in Grice, I guess! “Grice himself offers vanishingly little argument.” How extended is a Harvard philosophical audience’s attention-span? “Examining just two (out of the blue, unphilosophical) cases where we seem happy to attribute a secondary or derivative sense S2 to one word or expression E, but not another, Grice notes that, in both cases, the supposition that the expression E has an additional sense S2 is not superfluous, or unparsimonious, accounting for certain facets of the use of E that cannot, apparently, be explained pragmatically.” I wonder if a radically radical pragmatist would agree! I never met a polysemous expression! Grice concludes that, therefore, ‘there is as yet no reason NOT to accept M. O. R. ’ (1978, p. 120) — faint praise for a principle so important to his philosophical programme! Besides this weak argument for “M. O. R.,” Grice (1978) also mentions a few independent, rather loose, tests for alleged ambiguity.” (“And how to fail them,” as Zwicky would have it!) But Grice’s rationale for “M. O. R.,” presumably, is a thought Grice does not bother to articulate, thinking perhaps that the principle’s name, its kinship with Occam’s famous razor, ‘Do not multiply entities beyond necessity,’ made its epistemic credentials sufficiently obvious already.” Plus, Harvard is very Occamist!“To lay it out, though, the thought is surely that parsimony -- and other such qualities as simplicity, generality, and unification -- are always prized in scientific (and philosophical?) explanation, the more parsimonious (etc.) of two otherwise equally adequate theories being ipso facto more likely to be true. If, as would seem to be the case, a pragmatic explanation were more parsimonious than its semantic, or ‘conventionalist,’ or ambiguity, or polysemic, or polysemy or bi-semic rival, the conversational explanation would be supported by an established, received, general principle of scientific inference.” I love your exploration of Newton on this below! Hypotheses non fingo! “Certainly, some such argument is on Grice’s mind when he names his principle as he does, and much the same thought surely lies behind Kripke’s references to ‘general methodological considerations’ and ‘considerations of economy’ Other ‘Griceian’ appeals to these theoretical virtues are even more transparent. Linguist J. L. Morgan tells us, for instance, that ‘Occam’s Razor dictates that we take a Gricean account of an indirect speech act as the correct analysis, lacking strong evidence to the contrary’ Philosopher Stalnaker argues that a major advantage accrues to a pragmatic treatment of Strawson’s presupposition in that ‘there will then be no need to complicate the semantics or the lexicon’” or introduce metaphysically dubious truth-value gaps! Linguist S. C. Levinson suggests that a major selling point for a conversational theory in general is that such a theory promises to ‘effect a radical simplification of the semantics’ and ‘approximately halve the size of the lexicon’.” So we don’t need to learn two words, ‘vyse’ and ‘vice.’ There can be little doubt, therefore, that a Griceian takes parsimony to argue for the pragmatic approach.” I use the rather pedantic and awful spelling “Griceian,” so that I can keep the pronunciation /grais/ and also because Fodor used it! And non-philosophers, too! “But a parsimony argument is notoriously problematic, and the argument for “M. O. R.” is no exception. The preference for a parsimonious theory is surprisingly difficult to justify, as is the assumption that a pragmatic explanation IS more parsimonious. This does not mean Grice’s “M. O. R.” is entirely without merit. On the contrary, Grice is right to hold that senses should not be multiplied, if a conversational principle will do.” But the justification for M. O. R. need have nothing to do with the idea that parsimony is, always and everywhere, a virtue in scientific theories.”  Also because we are dealing with philosophy, not science, here? What makes Grice’s “M. O. R.” reasonable, rather, is a set of assumptions about the psychological processes involved in language learning, development, and acquisition, and I will report some empirical (rather than conceptual, as Grice does) evidence that these assumptions are, at least, roughly correct. One disclaimer. While I shall defend Grice’s “M. O. R.,” and therefore the research programme initiated by Grice, it is not my goal here to vindicate any specific pragmatic account, nor to argue that any given linguistic phenomenon requires a pragmatic explanation.” This reminds me of Kilgariff, a Longman linguist. He has a lovely piece, “I don’t believe in word SENSE!” I think he found that Longman had, under ‘horse’: 1. Quadruped animal. 2. Painting of a horse, notably by Stubbs! He did not like that! Why would ‘sense,’ a Fregeian notion, have a place in something like ‘lexicography,’ that deals with corpuses and statistics? “The task is, rather, to understand the logic of a particular type of inference, a type of Griceian inference that can be and has been employed by a philosopher such as Grice who disagree on many other points of theory. Since it would be impossible within the confines of this essay to discuss these disagreements, or to do justice to the many ways in which Grice’s paradigm or programme has been revised and extended (palaeo-Griceians, neo-Griceians, post-Griceians), my discussion is confined to a few hackneyed examples hackneyed by Grice himself, and to Grice’s orthodox theory, if a departure therefrom will be noted where relevant. The conversational explanation of an alleged ambiguity or polysemy or bi-semy aims to show how an utterer U can take an expression E with one conventional meaning and use it as if it had other meanings as well. Typically, this requires showing how the utterer U’s intended message can be ‘inferred,’ with the aid of a general principle of communicative behaviour, from the conventional meaning or sense of the word E that U utters. In Grice’s pioneering account, for instance, the idea is that speech is subject to a Principle of Conversational Co-Operation (In earlier Oxford seminars, where he introduced ‘implicaturum’ he speaks of two principles in conflict: the principle of conversational self-interest, and the principle of conversational benevolence! I much love THAT than the rather artificial Kant scheme at Harvard). ‘Make your conversational contribution, or move, such as is required, at the stage at which it occurs, by the accepted purpose or direction of the conversational exchange in which you are engaged.’(1975, p. 44). “Sub-ordinate to the Principle of Conversational Co-Operation are four conversational maxims (he was jocularly ‘echoing’ Kant!) falling under the four Kantian conversational categories of Quality, Quantity, Relation, and Modus. Roughly: Make your contribution true. Kant’s quality has to do with affirmation and negation, rather. Make your contribution informative. Kant’s quantity has to do with ‘all’ and ‘one,’ rather. Make your contribution relevant. Kant’s relation God knows what it has to do with. Make your contribution perspicuous [sic]. Kant’s modus has to do with ‘necessary’ and ‘contingent.’ Grice actually has ‘sic’ in the original “Logic and Conversation.” It’s like the self-refuting Kantian. Also in ‘be brief (avoid unnecessary prolixity’” ‘proguard obfuscation,’ sort of thing? “… further specifying what cooperation entails (pp. 45–46).” It’s sad Grice did not remember about the principle of conversational benevolence clashing with the principle of conversational self-interest, or dismissed the idea, when he wrote that ‘retro-spective’ epilogue about the maxims, etc. Bontly: “Unlike the constitutive (to use Anscombe and Searle, not regulative) principles of a grammar, the Principle of Conversational Co-Operation and the conversational, universalisable, maxims are to be thought of not as an arbitrary convention – vide Lewis -- but rather as a rational STRATEGY or guideline (if ‘strategy’ is too strong) for achieving one’s communicative ends.” I DO think ‘strategy’ is too strong. A strategist is a general: it’s a zero-sum game, war. I think Grice’s idea is that U is a rational agent dealing with his addressee A, another rational agent. So, it’s not strategic rationality, but communicative rationality. But then I’m being an etymologist! Surely chess players speak of ‘strategies,’ but then they also speak of ‘check mate,” kill the king! Bontly quotes from Grice: “‘[A]nyone who cares about the goals that are central to conversation,’ says Grice, ought to find the principle of conversational cooperation eminently reasonable (p. 49).” If not rational! I love Grice’s /: rational/reasonable. He explores on this later, “The price of that pair of shoes is not reasonable, but hardly irrational!” Bontly: “Like a grammar, however, the principle of conversational co-operation is (supposedly) tacitly known (or assumed) by conversationalists, who can thus call on it to interpret each other’s conversational moves.” Exactly. Parents teach their children well, not to lie, etc. “These interpretive practices being mutual ‘knowledge,’ or common ground, moreover, an utterer U can plan on his co-conversationalist B using the principle of conversational cooperation, to interpret his own utterances, enabling him to convey a good deal of information (and influencing) implicitly by relying on others to infer his intended meaning.”INFORMING seems to do, because, although Grice makes a distinction between ‘informing’ and ‘influencing,’ he takes an ‘exhibitive’ approach. So “Close the door!” means “I WANT YOU To believe that I want you to close the door.” I.e. I’m informing – influencing VIA informing. “Detailed discussions of Grice’s principle of conversational cooperation are found in many of the essays collected in Grice (1989), as well as in the work by linguists like Levinson (1983) and linguist/philosopher Neale (1992). Extensions and refinements of Grice’s approach are developed by linguist Horn (1972), linguist/philosopher Bach and philosopher Harnish (1979), linguist Gazdar (1979), linguist/philosopher Atlas and philosopher Levinson (1981), anthropologist Sperber and linguist Wilson (1986), linguist/philosopher Bach (1994), linguisdt Levinson (2000), and linguist Carston (2002).). The Principle of conversational cooperation and its conversational maxims allow Grice to draw a distinction between two dimensions of an utterer’s meaning within the total significance.” I never liked that Grice uses “signification,” here when in “Meaning” he had said: “Words, for all that Locke said, are NOT signs.” “We apply ‘sign’ to traffic signals, not to ‘dog’.” Bontly: “That which is ‘closely related to the conventional meaning of the word’ uttered is what the utterer has SAID (1975, p. 44),” or the explicatum, or explicitum. That which must instead be inferred with the aid of the principle of conversational cooperation is what the utterer U has conversationally implicated, the IMPLICATURUM (pp. 49–50), or implicitum. This dichotomy is in several ways oversimplified. First, Grice (1975, 1978) also makes room for ‘conventional’ implicaturums (“She was poor BUT she was honest”) and non-conversational non-conventional implicaturums (“Thank you,” abiding with the maxim, ‘be polite’), although these dimensions are both somewhat controversial (cf. Bach’s attack on conventional implicaturum) and can be set aside here. Also controversial is the precise delineation of Grice’s notion of what is said.” He grants he is using ‘say’ ‘artifiicially,’ which means, “natural TO ME!.” Some (anthropologist Sperber and linguist Wilson, 1986; linguist Carston, 1988, 2002; philosopher Recanati, 1993) hold that ‘what is said,’ the DICTUM, the explicatum, or explicitum, is significantly underdetermined by the conventional meaning of the word uttered, with the result that considerable pragmatic intrusive processing must occur even to recover what the utterer said.” And Grice allows that an implicaturum can occur within the scope of an operator.“Linguist/philosopher Bach disagrees, though he does add an ‘intermediate’ dimension (that of conversational ‘impliciture’) which is, in part, pragmatically determined, enriched, or intruded. For my purpose, the important distinction is between that element of meaning which is conventional or ‘encoded’ and that element which is ‘inferred,’ ab-duced, or pragmatically determined, whether or not it is properly considered part of what is said,” in Grice’s admittedly artificial use of this overused verb! (“A horse says neigh!”) A conversational implicaturum can itself be either particularized (henceforth, PCIs) or generalized (GCIs) (56).” Most familiar examples of implicaturum are particularised, where the inference to the utterer U’s intended meaning relies on a specific assumption regarding the context of utterance.” Grice’s first example, possibly, “Jones has beautiful handwriting” (Grice 1961).“Alter that context much at all and the implicaturum will simply disappear, perhaps to be replaced by another. With a generalised implicaturum, on the other hand, the inference or abduction to U’s intended interpretation is relatively context-independent, going through unless special clues to the contrary are provided to defeat it.”Love the ‘defeat.’ Levinson cites one of Grice’s unpublications as “Probability, defeasibility, and mood operators,” where Grice is actually writing, “desirability.”! “For instance, an utterance of the sentence” ‘SOME residents survived the earth-quake,’ would quite generally, absent any special clues to the contrary, seem to implicate that not all survived. All survived, alas, seems to be, to some, no news. Cruel world. No special ‘stage-setting’ has to be provided to make the implicaturum appreciable. No particular context needs to be assumed in order to calculate the likely intended meaning. All one needs to know is that an utterer U who thought that everyone, all residents survived the earthquake (or that none did?) would probably make this stronger assertion (in keeping with Grice’s first sub-maxim of Quantity: ‘Make your contribution as informative as required’).” Perhaps it’s best to deal with buildings. “Some – some 75%, I would say -- of the buildings did not collapse after the earth-quake on the tiny island, and fortunately, no fatalities need be reported. It wasn’t such a big earth-quake as pessimist had predicted.” “A Gricean should maintain that the ‘ambiguity’ of “some” -> “not all” canvassed at the outset can all be explained in terms of a generalized conversational implicaturum. For instance, linguist Horn shows, in his PhD on English, how an exclusive use of ‘or’ can be treated as a consequence of the maxim of Quantity. Roughly, since ‘p AND q’ is always ‘more informative,’ stronger, than ‘p or q’, an utterer U’s choosing to assert only the disjunction would ordinarily indicate that he takes one or the other disjunct to be false. He could assert the conjunction anyway, but then he would be violating Grice’s first submaxim of Quality: ‘Do not say what you believe to be false’ For similar reasons, the assertion of a disjunction would ordinarily seem to implicate that the utterer U does not know which disjunct is true (otherwise he would assert that disjunct rather than the entire disjunction) and hence, and this is the way Grice puts it, which is technically, the best way, that the utterer wants to be ‘interpreted’ as having some ‘non-truth-functional grounds’ for believing the disjunction (philosopher Grice, 1978; linguist Gazdar, 1979).  For recall that this all goes under the scope of a psychological attitude. In “Method in psychological philosophy: from the banal to the bizarre,” repr. in “The conception of value,” Grice considers proper disjunctions: “The eagle is not sure whether to attack the rabbit or the dove.” I think Loar plays with this too in his book for Cambridge on meaning and mind and Grice. “Grice (1981) takes a similar line with regard to asymmetric uses of ‘and’.” Indeed, I loved his “Jones got into bed and took off his clothes, but I do not want to suggest in that order.” “Is that a linguistic offence?” Don’t think so!” “The fourth submaxim of Manner,” ‘be orderly’ -- I tend to think this is ad-hoc and that Grice had this maxim JUST to explain away the oddity of “She got a children and married,” by Strawson in Strawson 1952. “says that utterers should be ‘orderly,’ and when describing a sequence of events, an orderly presentation would normally describe the events in the order in which they occurred. So an utterance of  (1b) (‘Jones took off his trousers – he had taken off his shoes already -- and got into bed.’ “would ordinarily (unless the utterer U ‘indicates’ otherwise) implicate that Jones did so in that order, hence the temporal reading of ‘and’.” “(Grice’s (1981) account of asymmetric ‘and’ seems NOT to account for causal interpretations like (1c).”Ryle says in “Informal logic,” 1953, in Dilemmas, “She felt ill and took arsenic,” has the conscript ‘and’ of Whitehead and Russell, not the ‘civil’ ‘and’ of the informalist. “Oxonian philosopher R. C. S. Walker – what took him to respond to Cohen? Walker quotes from Bostock, who was Grice’s tutee at St. John’s -- (1975, p. 136) suggests that the causal reading can be derived from the maxim of Relation.”Nowell-Smith had spoken of ‘be relevant’ in Ethics. But Grice HAD to be a Kantian!“Since conversationalists are expected to make their utterances relevant, one expects that conjoined sentences will ‘have some bearing to one another’, often a causal bearing. More nearly adequate accounts of the temporal and causal uses of ‘and’ (so-called ‘conjunction buttressing’) are found in linguist/philosopher Atlas and linguist Levinson (1981) and in linguist Levinson (1983, 2000). Linguist Carston (1988, 2002) develops a rival pragmatic account within the framework of anthropologist Sperber’s and linguist Wilson’s Relevance Theory, on which temporal and causal readings are explicatures rather than implicaturums. For the purposes of this essay, it is immaterial which of these accounts best accords with the data. In these and many other cases, it seems that a general principle regarding communicative RATIONALITY can provide an alternative to positing a semantic ambiguity.”Williamson is lecturing at Yale that ‘rationality’ has little to do with it!“But a Gricean goes a step further and claims that the implicaturum account (when available) is BETTER than an ambiguity or polysemy account. One possible argument for the stronger thesis is that the various specialised uses of ‘or’ (etc.) bear all the usual hallmarks of a conversational implicaturum. An implicaturum is: calculable (i.e. derivable from what is said or dictum or explicatum or explicitum via the Principle of conversational cooperation and the conversational maxims); cancellable (retractable without contradiction), and; non-detachable (incapable of being paraphrased away) Grice, 1975, pp. 50 and 57–58). They ought also to be, sort of, universal.” (Cf. Elinor Keenan Ochs, “The universality of conversational implicaturum.” I hope Williamson considers this. In Madagascar, they have other ‘norms’ of conversation: since speakers are guarded, implicatura to the effect, “I don’t know” are never invited! Unlike the true lexical ambiguity that arises from a language-specific convention, an implicaturum derives rather from general features of communicative RATIONALITY and should thus be similar across different languages (philosopher Kripke, 1977; linguist Levinson, 1983).”I’m not sure. Cfr. Ochs in Madagascar. But she is a linguist/anthropologist, rather than a philosopher? From a philosophical point of view, perhaps the best who treated this issues is English philosopher Martin Hollis in his essays on ‘rationality’ and ‘relativism’ (keywords!)“Since the ‘ambiguity’ in question here has all these features, at least to some degree, the implicaturum approach may well seem irresistible. It is well known, however, that none of the features listed on various occasions by Grice are sufficient (individually or jointly) to establish the presence of a conversational implicaturum (Grice, 1978; linguist Sadock, 1978). Take calculability.” Or how to ‘work it out,’ to keep it Anglo-Saxon, as pretentious Grice would not! The main difficulty is that a conversationalimplicaturum can become fossilized, or ‘conventionalised’ over time but remain calculable nonetheless, as happens with some ‘dead’ metaphors — one-time non-literal uses which congealed into a new conventional meaning.” A linguist at Berkeley worked on this, Traugott, on items in the history of the English language, or H-E-L, for short, H.O.T.E.L, history of the English language. I don’t think Grice considers this. He sticks with old Roman ‘animal’ -> ‘non-human’, strictly, having a ‘soul,’ or animus, anima. (I think Traugott’s focus was on verb forms, like “I have eaten,” meaning, literally, “I possess eating,” or something. But she does quote Grice and speaks of fossilization. “For instance, the expression.” ‘S went to the bathroom’ (Jones?) could, for obvious reasons, be used with its original, compositional, meaning to implicate that S ‘relieved himself’.” “The intended meaning would still be calculable today.”Or “went to powder her nose?” (Or consider the pre-Griceian (?) child’s overinformative, standing from table at dinner, “I’m going to the bathroom to do number 2 (unless he is flouting the maxim). “But the use has been absorbed, or encoded into some people’s grammar, as witnessed by the fact that  ‘S went to the bathroom on the living room carpet.’ is not contradictory (linguist J. L. Morgan, 1978; linguist Sadock, 1978).”I wonder what some contextualists at Yale (De Rose) would say about that!? Cf. Jason Stanley, enfant terrible. “Grice’s cancellability is similarly problematic. While one may cancel the exclusive interpretation of ‘p or q’ (e.g. by adding ‘or possibly both’), the added remark could just as well be disambiguating an ambiguous utterance as canceling the implicaturum (philosopher Walker, 1975; linguist Sadock, 1978).”Excellent POINT! Walker would be fascinated to see that Grice once coined ‘disimplicaturum’ for some loose uses. “Macbeth saw Banquo.” “That tie is yellow under that light, but orange under this one.” Actually, Grice creates ‘disimplicaturum’ to refute Davidson on intending: “Jones intends to climb Mt Everest next weekend.” Intending DOES entail BELIEF, but people abuse ‘intend’ and use it ‘loosely,’ with one sense dropped. Similarly, Grice says, with “You’re the cream in my coffee,” where the ‘disimplicaturum’ is TOTAL!“Non-detachability fares no better. When two sentences are synonymous (if there is, pace Quine, such a thing), utterances of them ought to generate the same implicaturum. But they will also have the same semantic implications, so the non-detachability of an alleged implicaturum shows very little if anything at all (linguist Sadock, 1978).”I never liked non-detachability, because it ENTAILS that there MUST be a synonym expression: cfr. God? Divinity? “Universality is perhaps the best test of the four.”I agree. When linguists like Elinor Keenan disregard this, I tend to think: “the cunning of conversational reason,” alla Hollis. Grice was a member of Austin’s playgroup, and the conversational MAXIMS were ‘universalisable’ within THAT group. That seems okay for both Kant AND Hegel!“Since an implicaturum can fossilise into a conventional meanings, however, it is always possible for a cross-linguistic alleged ‘ambiguity’ to be pragmatic in some language though lexical in another.”Is that ‘f*rnication’? Or is it Grice on ‘pushing up the daisies’ as an “established idiom” for ‘… is dead’ in WJ5? Austin and Grice would I think take for granted THREE languages: Greek and Roman, that they studied at their public schools – and this is important, because Grice says his method of analysis is somehow grounded on his classical education – and, well, English. Donald Davidson, in the New World, would object to the ‘substantiation’ that speaking of “Greek” as a language, say, may entail.“So while Grice’s tests are suggestive, they supply no clear verdict on the presence of an implicaturum. Besides these inconclusive tests for implicaturum, Grice could also appeal to various diagnostic tests for alleged ambiguity.” “And how to fail them,” to echo Zwicky. Grice himself suggests three, although none of them prove terribly helpful.”Loved your terrible. Cfr. ‘terrific’. And the king entering St. Paul’s cathedral: “Aweful!” meaning ‘awe-some!’“First, Grice points out that each alleged sense Sn of an allegedly ambiguous word E ought to be expressible ‘in a reasonably wide range of linguistic environments’ (1978, p. 117). The fact that the strong implicaturum of ‘or’ is UNavailable within the scope of a negation, for instance, would seem to count AGAINST alleged ambiguity or polysemy. On the other hand, the strong implicaturum of ‘or’ IS available within the scope of a propositional-attitude verb. A strong implicaturum of ‘and’ is arguably available in both environments, within the scope of a negation, and within the scope of a psychological-attitude verb. So the first test seems a wash.”Metaphorically, or implicaturally. J“Second, Grice says, if the expression E is ambiguous with one sense S2 being derived (somehow) from the initial or original or etymological sense S1, that derivative sense S2 ‘ought to conform to whatever principle there may be which governs the generation of derivative senses’ (pp. 117–118).”GRICE AT HIS BEST! I think he is trying to irritate Quine, who is seating on second row at Harvard! (After all Quine thought he was a field linguist!)Bontly, charmingly: “Not knowing the content of thi principle Grice invokes— and Grice gives us no hint as to what it might be — we cannot bring it, alas, to bear here!”I THINK he was thinking Ullman. At Oxford, linguists were working on ‘semantics,’ cfr. Gardiner. And he just thought that it would be Unphilosophical on his part to bore his philosophical Harvard audience with ‘facts.’ At one point he does mention that the facts of the history of the English language (how ‘disc’ can be used, etc.) are not part of the philosopher’s toolkit?“Third and finally, Grice says, we must ‘give due (but not undue) weight to MY INTUITIONS about the existence (or indeed non-existence) of a putative sense S2 of a word E.’ (p. 120).”Emphasis on ‘my’ mine! -- As I say, I never had any intuition about an expression having an extra-putative sense. Not even ‘bank,’ – since in Old Germanic, it’s all etymologically related!Bontly: “But, even granting the point that ‘or’ is NON-INTUITIVELY ambiguous in quite the same way that ‘bank’ IS, allegedly, INTUITIVELY ambiguous, the source of our present difficulty is precisely the fact that ‘p or q’ often *seems* intuitively to imply that one or the other disjunct is false.”Grice apparently uses ‘intuition’ and ‘introspection’ interchangeably, if that helps? Continental phenomenological philosophers would make MUCH of this! For Grice’s intuitions are HIS own. In a lecture at Wellesley, of all places (in Grice 1989) he writes: “My problems with my use of E arise from MY intuitions about the use of E. I don’t care how YOU use E. Philosophy is personal.” Much criticised, but authentic, in a way!“Since he discounts the latter intuition, Grice cannot place much weight on the former!”As I say, Grice’s intuitions are hard to fathom! So are his introspections! Actually, I think that Grice’s sticking with introspections and intuitions save him, as Suppes shows in PGRICE ed Grandy and Warner, from being a behaviourist. He is, rather, an intentionalist!“While a complete review of ambiguity tests is beyond the scope of this essay, we have perhaps seen enough to motivate the methodological problem with which we began: viz., that an, intuitive, alleged, ambiguity seems fit to be explained either semantically (ambiguity thesis, polysemy, bi-semy) or pragmatically/conversationally, with little by way of direct evidence to tell us which is which!”“If philosophy generated no problems, it would be dead!” – Grice. J“Linguists Zwicky and Sadock review several linguistic tests for ambiguity (e.g. conjunction reduction) and point out that most are ill-suited to detect ambiguities where the meanings in question are privative opposites,”Oddly, Grice’s first publication ever was on “Negation and privation,” 1938!Bontly: “i.e. where one meaning is a specialization or specification of the other (as for instance with the female and neutral senses of ‘goose’).”Or cf. Urmson, “There is an animal in the backyard.” “You mean Aunt Matilda?”Bontly: “Since the putative ambiguities of ‘or’ and the like are all of this sort, it seems inevitable that these tests will fail us here as well. For further discussion, see linguist Horn (1989, pp. 317–18 and 365–66) and linguist Carston (2002, pp. 274–77).It is hardly surprising, therefore, to find that a Gricean typically falls back on a methodological argument like parsimony, as instantiated in “M. O. R.”Let’s now turn to Parsimony and Its Problems. It may, at first, be less than obvious why an ambiguity or polysemy or bi-semy account should be deemed less parsimonious than its Gricean rival.” Where the conventionalist or ambiguist posits an additional sense S2, Grice adds, to S1, a conversational implicaturum, I”. Cheap, but no free lunch! (Grice saves)Bontly: “Superficially, little seems to be gained.” Ah, the surfaces of Oxford superficiality! “Looking closer, however, the methodological virtues of the Grice’s approach seem fairly clear.”Good!Bontly: “First, the principles and inference patterns that a pragmatic or conversational account utilizes are independently motivated. The principles and inference patterns are needed in any case to account for the relatively un-controversial class of particularized implicatura, and they provide an elegant approach to phenomena like figures of rhetoric, or speech -- metaphor, irony, meiosis, litotes, understatement, sarcasm – cfr. Holdcroft -- and tricks like Strawson’s presupposition. So it would seem that Grice can make do with explanatory material already on hand, whereas the ambiguity or polysemy theorist must posit a new semantic rule in each and every case. Furthermore, the explanatory material has an independent grounding in considerations of rationality.”I love that evening when Grice received a phonecall at Berkeley: “Professor Grice: You have been appointed the Immanuel Kant Memorial Lecturer at Stanford.” He gave the lectures on aspects of reason and reasoning!Bontly: “Since conversation is typically a goal-directed activity, it makes sense for conversationalists to abide by the Principle of Conversational Cooperation (something like Kant’s categorical imperative, in conversational format) and its (universalisable) conversational maxims, and so it makes sense for a co-conversationalist to interpret the conversationalist accordingly. A pragmatic explanation is therefore CHEAP – hence Occam on ‘aeconomicus’ -- the principle it calls on being explainable by — and perhaps even reducible to — facts about rational behavior in general.”I loved your “REDUCE.” B. F. Loar indeed thought, and correctly, that the maxims are ‘empirical generalisations over functional states.’ Genius!Bontly: A pragmatic account is not only more economic, or cheaper. It also reveals an orderliness or systematicity that positing a separate lexical ambiguity or polysemy or bisemy in each and every case would seem to miss (linguist/philosopher Bach). To a Griceian, it is no accident that a sentential connective or truth-functor (“not,” “and,” “or,” and “if”), a quantified expression (Grice’s “all” and “some (at least one)”) and a description (Grice’s “the”) all lend themselves to a weak and a stronger interpretation”Cf. Holdcroft, “Weak or strong?” in “Words and deeds.”Bontly: “Note, for instance, that a sentence with the logical form ‘Some Fs are Gs’,  and the pleonethetic, to use Geach’s and Altham’s coinage, ‘Most Fs are Gs’, and ‘A few Fs are Gs’ are all allegedly ‘ambiguous’ in the SAME way. Each of those expressions has an obvious weak reading in addition to a stronger reading: ‘Not all Fs are Gs’.Good because Grice’s first examination was: “That pillar-box seems red to me.” And he analyses the oddness in terms of ‘strength.’ (Grice 1961). He tries to analyse this ‘strength’ in terms of ‘entailment,’ but fails (“Neither ‘The pillar-box IS red’ NOR ‘The pillar-box SEEMS red’ entail each other.”)Bontly: For the conventionalist or polysemy theorist, there is no apparent reason why this should be so. There is no reason, that is, why three etymologically unrelated words (“some,” “most,” and “few”) should display the SAME pattern of alleged ambiguity. The Gricean, on the other hand, explains each the SAME way, by appealing to some rational principle of conversation. The implicatura are all ‘scalar’ quantity implicatura, attributable to the utterer U’s having uttered a weaker, less informative, sentence than he might have.” Linguist Levinson, 1983). Together, these considerations make a persuasive case for the Grice’s approach. A pragmatic explanation is more economical, and the resulting view of conversation is more natural and unified. Since economy and unification are both presumably virtues to be sought in a scientific or philosophical explanation — virtues which for brevity I lump together under Occamist ‘parsimony’ — it would NOT be unreasonable to conclude that a pragmatic explanation is (ceteris paribus) a better explanation. So it seems that Grice’s principle, the “M. O. R.” is correct. Senses ought not to be multiplied when pragmatics will do. Still, there are several reasons to be suspicious of the parsimony argument. “I lay out three. It bears emphasis that none of these are objections to the pragmatic approach per se.” I have no quarrel with the theory of conversation or particular attempts to apply it to conversational phenomena. The objections focus rather on the role that parsimony (or simplicity, or generality, etc.) plays in arguments PRO the implicaturum and CONTRA ambiguity or polysemy.” Then, there’s Dead Metaphors. First is a worry that parsimony is too blunt an instrument, generalizing to unwanted conclusions. Versions of this objection appear in philosopher Walker (1975), linguist Morgan (1978), and linguist Sadock (1978).” More recently, Reimer (1998) and Devitt (forthcoming) use it to argue against a Gricean treatment of the referential/attributive distinction.”But have they read Grice’s VACUOUS NAMES? I know you did! Grice notes: “My distinction has nothing to do with Donnellan’s!” Grice’s approach is syntactic: ‘the’ and “THE,” identificatory and non-identificatory uses. R. M. Sainsbury and D. E. Over have worked on this. Fascinating. Bontly: “For as with the afore-mentioned so-called ‘dead’ metaphor, it can happen that a word has a secondary use that is pragmatically predictable, and yet fully conventional. In many such cases, of course, the original, etymological meaning is long forgotten: e. g. the contemporary use of ‘fornication’, originally a euphemism for activities done in fornice (that is, in the vaulted underground dwellings that once served as brothels in Rome). (I owe this [delightful] example to Sam Wheeler). Few speakers recall the original meaning, so the metaphor can no longer be ‘calculated,’ as Grice’s “You’re the cream in my coffee!” (title of song) can!” The metaphor is both dead _and buried_.”Still un-buriable?“In other cases, however, speakers do possess the information to construct a Gricean explanation, and yet the metaphor is dead anyway.”Reimer’s (1998) example of the verb ‘incense’ is a case in point. One conventional meaning (‘to make or become angry’) began life as a metaphorical extension of the other (‘to make fragrant with incense’). The reason for the extension is fairly transparent (resting on familiar comparisons of burning and emotion), but the use allegedly represents an additional sense nonetheless.”What dictionaries have as ‘fig.’ But are we sure that when the dictionaries list things like 1., 2., 3., they are listing SENSES!? Cf. Grice, “I don’t give a hoot what the dictionary says,” to Austin, “And that’s where you make your big mistake.” Once Grice actually opened the dictionary (he was studying ‘feeling + adj.’ – he got to ‘byzantine,’ finding that MOST adjectives did, and got bored!Bontly: Such examples suggest that an implicaturum makes up an important source of semantic—and, according to linguist Levinson (2000), syntactic—innovation. A linguistic phenomenon can begin life as a pragmatic specialization or an extension and subsequently become conventionalized by stages, making it difficult to determine at what point (and for which ‘utterers’) a use has become fully conventional. One consequence is that an expression E can have, allegedly, a second sense S2, even when a pragmatic explanation appears to make it explanatorily superfluous, and parsimony can therefore mislead.”I’m not sure dictionary readers read ‘fig.’ as a different ‘sense,’ and lexicographers need not be Griceian in style!Bontly: “A related point is that an ambiguity account needn’t be LESS unified than an implicaturum account after all. If pragmatic considerations can explain the origin and development of new linguistic conventions, the ambiguity or polysemy theorist can provide a unified dia-chronic account of how several un-related expressions came to exhibit similar patterns of alleged ‘ambiguity.’ Quantifiers like ‘some’, ‘most’, and ‘a few’ may be similarly allegedly ambiguous today because they generated similar implicaturums in the past (cf. Millikan, 2001).”OKAY, so that’s the right way to go then? Diachrony and evolution, right?Bontly: “Then, there’s Tradeoffs. A ‘dead’ metaphor suggests that parsimony is too strong for the pragmatist’s purposes, but as a pragmatic account could have hidden costs to offset the semantic savings, parsimony may also be too weak! E. g. an implicaturum account looks, at least superficially, to multiply (to use Occam’s term) inferential labour, leaving it to the addressee to infer the utterer’s intended meaning from the words uttered, the context, and the conversational principle. Thus there are trade-offs involved, and the account which is semantically more parsimonious may be less parsimonious all things considered.”Grice once invited the “P. E. R. E.,” principle of economy of rational effort, though. Things which seem to be psychologically UNREAL are just DEEMED, tacitly, to occur.Bontly: “To be clear, this is not to suggest that the ambiguity or polysemy account can dispense with inference entirely. Were the exclusive and inclusive senses of ‘or’ BOTH lexically encoded (as they were in Old Roman, ‘vel’ and ‘aut,’ hence Whitehead’s choice of ‘v’ for ‘p v q’) still hearers would need to infer from contextual clues which meaning were intended. The worry is not, therefore, so much that the implicaturum account increases the number of inferences which conversants or conversationalists have to perform. The issue concerns rather the complexity of these inferences. Alleged dis-ambiguation is a highly constrained process. In principle, one need only choose the relevant sense Sn, from a finite list represented in the so-called ‘mental lexicon’. Implicaturum calculation, on the other hand, is a matter of finding the best explanation (abductively, alla Hanson) for an utterer’s utterance, the utterer’s meaning being introduced as an explanatory hypothesis, answering to a ‘why’ question. Unlike dis-ambiguation, where the various possible readings are known in advance, in the conversational explanation, the only constraints are provided by the addressee’s understanding of the context and the conversational principle. So it appears that Grice’s approach saves on the lexical semantics by placing a greater inferential burden on utterer and addressee.”But Grice played bridge, and loved those burdens. Stampe actually gives a lovely bridge alleged counter-example to Grice (in Grice 1989).Bontly: “Now, a Gricean can try to lessen this load in various ways. Grice can argue, for instance, that the inference used to recover a generalised implicaturum is less demanding than that for a particularized one, that familiarity with types of generalised implicate can “stream-line” the inferential process, and so on.”Love that, P. E. R. E., or principle of economy of rational effort, above?!Bontly: “We examine these moves. There’s Justification. Another difficulty with Grice’s appeals to parsimony is the most fundamental. On the one hand, it can hardly be denied that parsimony plays a role in scientific, if not philosophical, inference.” Across the sciences, if not in philosophy, it is standard practice to cite parsimony (simplicity, generality, etc.) as a reason to choose one hypothesis over another; philosophers often do the same.”Bontly’s ‘often’ implicates, ‘often not’! Grice became an opponent of his own minimalism at a later stage of his life, vide his “Prejudices and predilections; which become, the life and opinions of Paul Grice,” by Paul Grice!Bontly: “At the same time, however, it remains quite mysterious, if that’s the word, why parsimony (etc.) should be given such weight by Occamists like Grice. If it were safe to assume that Nature is simple and economical, the preference for theories with these qualities would make perfect sense. Sir Isaac Newton offers such an ontological rationale for parsimony in the “Principia.” Sir Isaac writes (in Roman?) “I am to admit no more cause of a natural thing than such as are true and sufficient to explain its appearance.” “To this purpose, the philosopher says that Nature does nothing in vain, and more is in vain when less serves.” “For Nature is pleased with simplicity, and affects not the pomp of a superfluous cause.” “While a blanket assertion about the simplicity of Nature is hardly uncommon in the history of science, today it is viewed with suspicion.” Bontly:  “Newton’s reasons were presumably theological.” “If I knew that the Creator values simplicity and economy, I should expect the creatION to display these qualities as well.” “Lacking much information about the Creator’s tastes, however, the assumption becomes quite difficult, if not impossible, to support.”Cfr. literature on ‘biological diversity.’Bontly: “(Sober discusses several objections to an ontological justification for the principle of parsimony. Philosopher of science Mary Hesse surveys several other attempts to justify the use of parsimony and simplicity in scientific inference. Philosophers of science today are largely persuaded that the role of parsimony is ‘purely methodological’ epistemological, pragmatist, rather than ontological — that it is rational to reject unnecessary posits (or complex, dis-unified theories) no matter what Nature is like. One might argue, for instance, that the principle of parsimony is really just a principle of minimum risk. The more existence claims one accepts, the greater the chance of accepting a falsehood. Better, then, to do without any existence claim one does not need. Philosopher J. J. C. Smart attributes this view to John Stuart Mill.”Cf. Grice: “Not to bring more Grice to the Mill.”Bontly: “Now, risk minimization may be a reasonable methodological principle, but it does not suffice to explain the role of parsimony in natural science. When a theoretical posit is deemed explanatorily superfluous, the accepted practice is not merely to withhold belief in its existence but to conclude positively that it does not exist. As Sober notes, ‘Occam’s razor preaches atheism about unnecessary entities, not just a-gnosticism.’” Similarly, Grice’s razor tells us that we should believe an expression E to be unambiguous, aequi-vocal, monosemous, unless we have evidence for a second meaning. The absence of evidence for this alleged additional, ‘multiplied’ ‘sense’ is presumed to count as evidence that this alleged second, additional, multiplied, sense is absent, does not exist. But an absence of evidence is not the same thing as evidence of an absence.” The difficult question about scientific methodology is why we should count one as the other. Why, that is, should a lack of evidence for an existence claim count as evidence for a non-existence claim? The minimum risk argument leaves this question unanswered. Indeed, philosophers of science have had so little success in explaining why parsimony should be a guide to truth that many are tempted to conclude that it and the other ‘super-empirical virtues’ have no epistemic value whatsoever. Their role is rather pragmatic, or aesthetic.”This is in part Strawson’s reply in his “If and the horseshoe” (1968), repr. in PGRICE, in Grandy/Warner. He says words to the effect: “Grice’s theory may be more BEAUTIFUL than mine, but that’s that!” (Strawson thinks that ‘if’ acts as ‘so’ or ‘therefore’ but in UNASSERTED clauses. So it’s a matter of a ‘conventional’ IMPLICATURUM to the inferrability of “if p, q” or “p; so, q.” I agree with Strawson that Grice’s account of ‘conventional’ implicaturum is not precisely too beautiful?Bontly: “Parsimony can make a theory easier to understand or apply, and it pleases those of us with a taste for desert landscapes, but (according to these sceptics) they do not make the theory any more likely to be true.”The reference to the ‘desert landscape’ is genial. Cfr. Strawson’s “A logician’s landscape.” Later in life, Grice indeed found it unfair that an explanation of cherry trees blooming in spring should be explained as a ‘desert landscape.’ “That’s impoverishing it!”Bontly: “van Fraassen, for instance, tells us that a super-empirical virtue ‘does not concern the relation between the theory and the world, but rather the use and usefulness of the theory; it provide reasons to prefer the theory independently of questions of truth.” “If that were correct, it would be doubtful that parsimony can shoulder the burden Grice places on it.” “For then the conventionalist may happily grant that a pragmatic explanation is clever and elegant, and beautiful.”  “The conventionalist can agree that an implicaturum account comprehends a maximum of phenomena with a minimum of theoretical apparatus.” “But when it comes to truth, or alethic satisfactoriness, as Grice would prefer, a conventionalist may insist that parsimony is simply irrelevant.” “One Gricean sympathizer who apparently accepts the ‘aesthetic’ view of parsimony is the philosopher of science R. C. S. Walker (1975), who claims that the ‘[c]hoice between Grice’s and Cohen’s theories is an aesthetic matter’ and concludes that ‘we should not regard either the Conversationalist Hypothesis or its [conventionalist] rivals as definitely right or wrong.’” Cfr. Strawson in Grandy/Warner, but Strawson is no Griceian sympathiser! “Now asking Grice to justify the principle of parsimony may seem a bit unfair.” “Grice also assumes the reality of the external world, the existence of intentional mental states, and the validity of modus ponens.” “Need Grice justify these assumptions as well?” “Of course not!” “But even if the epistemic value of parsimony is taken entirely for granted, it is unclear why it should even count in semantics.” “All sides agree, after all, that many, perhaps even most, expressions of natural language are allegedly ‘ambiguous.’” “There are both poly-semies, where one word has multiple, though related, meanings (‘horn’, ‘trunk’), and homo-nymies, where two distinct words have converged on a single phonological form (‘bat’, ‘pole’).”  “The distinction between poly-semy and homo-nymy is notoriously difficult to draw with any precision, chiefly because we lack clear criteria for the identity of words (Bach).” “If words are individuated phono-logically, there would be no homo-nyms.” “If words are individuated semantically, there would be no poly-semies.” “Individuating words historically leads to some odd consequences: e.g., that ‘bank’ is poly-semous rather than homo-nymous, since the ‘sense’ in which it means financial institution and the ‘sense’ in which it means edge of a river are derived from a common source.” “I owe this example to David Sanford. For further discussion, see Jackendoff.”Soon at Hartford. And Sanford is right!Bontly: “Given that ambiguity is hardly rare, then, one wonders whether a semantic theory ought really to minimize it (cf. Stampe, 1974).” “One might indeed argue that the burden of proof here is on the pragmatist, not the ambiguity or polysemy theorist.” “Perhaps we ought to assume, ceteris paribus, that every regular use of an expression represents a SPECIAL sense.” “Such a methodological policy may be less economical than Grice’s, but it does extend the same pattern of explanation to all alleged ambiguities, and it might even accord better with the haphazard ways in which natural languages are prone to evolve (Millikan, 2001).”Yes, the evolutionary is the way to go!Bontly: “So Grice owe us some reason to think that parsimony and the like should count in semantics.” “He needn’t claim, of course, that parsimony is always and everywhere a reason to believe a hypothesis true.” “He needn’t produce a global justification for Occam’s Razor, that is—a local justification, one specific to language, would suffice.” “I propose to set aside the larger issue about parsimony in general, therefore, and argue that Modified Occam’s Razor can be justified by considerations peculiar to the study of language.” “Now for A Developmental Account of Semantic Parsimony.”  “My approach to parsimony in linguistics is inspired by Sober’s work on parsimony arguments in evolutionary biology.”And Grice was an evolutionary philosopher of sorts.Bontly: “In Sober’s view, philosophers have misunderstood the role of parsimony in scientific inference, taking it to function as a global, domain-general principle of scientific reasoning (akin perhaps to an axiom of the probability calculus).” “A more realistic analysis, Sober claims, shows that parsimony arguments function as tacit references to domain-specific process assumptions — to assumptions (whether clearly articulated or not) about the process(es) that generate the phenomena under study.” “Where these processes tend to be frugal, parsimony is a reasonable principle of theory-choice.” “Where they are apt to be profligate, it is not.” “What makes parsimony reasonable in one area of inquiry may, on Sober’s view, be quite unrelated to the reasons it counts in another.” “Parsimony arguments in the units of selection controversy, for instance, rest on one set of process assumptions (i.e. assumptions about the conditions necessary for ‘group’ selection to occur).” “The application of parsimony to ‘phylogenetic’ inference rests on a completely different set of assumptions (about rates of evolutionary change).” “As Sober notes, in either case the assumptions are empirically testable, and it could turn out that parsimony is a reliable principle of inference in one, both, or neither of these areas. Sober’s approach amounts to a thorough-going local reductionism about parsimony.It counts in theory-choice if and only if there are domain-specific reasons to think the theory which is more economical (in some specifiable respect) is more likely to be true. The ‘only if’ claim is the more controversial part of the bi-conditional, and I need not defend it here. For present purposes I need only the weaker claim that domain-specific assumptions can be sufficient to justify using parsimony — that parsimony is a sensible principle of inference if the phenomena in question result from processes themselves biased, as it were, towards parsimony. Now, in natural-language semantics, the phenomena in question are ordinarily taken to be the semantic rules or conventions shared by a community of speakers.”Cf. Peacocke on Grice as applied to ‘community of utterers,’ in Evans/McDowell, Truth and meaning, Oxford. Bontly: “The task is to uncover the ‘arbitrary’ mappings between a sound and a meaning (or concepts or referent) of which utterers have tacit knowledge. This ‘semantic competence’ is shaped by both the inputs that language learners encounter and the cognitive processes that guide language acquisition from infancy through adulthood. So the question is whether that input and these processes are themselves biased toward semantic parsimony and against the acquisition of multiple meanings for single phonological forms. As I shall now argue, there are several reasons to suspect that such a bias should exist. Psychologists often conceptualize learning in general and word learning in particular as a process of generating and testing hypotheses. A child (or, in many cases, an adult) encounters an unfamiliar word, forms one or more hypotheses as to its possible meaning, checks the hypotheses against the ways in which he hears the word used, and finally adopts one such hypothesis. This ‘child-as-scientist’ model is plainly short on details, but whatever mechanism implements the generating and testing, it would seem that the process cannot be repeated with every subsequent exposure to a word. Once a hypothesis is accepted — a word learned — the process effectively halts, so that the next time the child hears that word, he doesn’t have to hypothesize. Instead, the child can access the known meaning and use it to grasp the intended message. For that reason, an unfamiliar word ought to be the only one to trigger the learning process, and that of course makes ambiguity problematic. Take a person who knows one meaning of an ambiguous word, but not the other. To him, the word is not unfamiliar, even when used with an unfamiliar meaning. At least, it will not sound unfamiliar. So, the learning process will not kick in unless some other source of evidence suggests another, as-yet-unknown meaning. Presumably the evidence will come from ‘anomalous’ utterances: i.e. uses that are contextually absurd, given only the familiar meaning. This is not to say, of course, that hearing one anomalous utterance would be sufficient to re-start the learning process. Since there are other reasons why an utterance may seem anomalous (e.g. the utterer simply misspoke), it might take several anomalies to convince one that the word has another meaning. In the absence of anomalies, however, it seems highly unlikely that learners would seriously entertain the possibility of a second sense. A related point is that acquisition involves, or is at least thought to involve, a variety of ‘boot-strapping’ operations where the learner uses what he knows of the language in order to learn more.”Oddly Grice has a bootstrap principle (it relates to having one’s metalanguage as rich as one’s object-language.Bontly: “It has been argued, for instance, that children use semantic information to constrain hypotheses about words’ syntactic features (Pinker) and, conversely, syntactic information to constrain hypotheses about words’ semantic features (Gleitman). Likewise, children must surely use their knowledge of some words’ meanings to constrain hypotheses as to the meanings of others, thus inferring the meanings of unfamiliar words from context. However, that process only works insofar as one can safely assume that the familiar words in an utterance are typically used with their familiar meanings. If it were assumed that familiar words are typically used with unknown meanings, the bootstraps would be too weak. Together, these considerations point to the hypothesis that language acquisition is semantically conservative. Children will posit new meanings for familiar words only when necessary—only when they encounter utterances that make no sense to them, even though all the words are familiar. Interestingly, experimental work in language acquisition provides empirical evidence for much the same conclusion. Psychologists have long observed that children have considerable difficulties learning and using homo-nyms (Peters and Zaidel), leading many to suspect that young children operate under the helpful, though mistaken, assumption that a word can have but one meaning (Slobin). Children have similar difficulties acquiring synonyms and may likewise assume that a given meaning can be represented by at most one word. (Markman & Wachtel, see Bloom for a different explanation). I cannot here survey the many experimental studies bearing on this hypothesis, but one series of experiments conducted by Michele Mazzocco is particularly germane. Mazzocco presents children from several age-groups, as well as adults, with stories designed to mimic one’s first encounter with the secondary meaning of an ambiguous word. To control the effects of antecedent familiarity with secondary meanings, the stories used familiar words (e.g., ‘rope’) as if they had further unknown meanings—as ‘pseudo-homo-nyms’.For comparison, other stories included a non-sense word (e.g. ‘blus’) used as if it had a conventional meaning — as a ‘pseudo-word’ — to mimic one’s first encounter with an entirely unfamiliar word.”Cf. Grice’s seminar at Berkeley: “How pirots karulise elatically: some simpler ways.”“A pirot  can be said to potch or cotch an obble as fang or feng or fid with another obble.”“A person can be said to perceive or cognize an object as having the property f or f2 or being in a relation R with another object.”Bontly: Some stories, finally, used only genuine words with only their familiar meanings. After hearing a story, subjects are presented with a series of illustrations and asked to pick out the item referred to in the story. In a subsequent experiment, subjects had to act out their interpretations of the stories. In the pseudo-homo-nym condition, one picture would always illustrate the word’s conventional but contextually inappropriate meaning, one would depict the unfamiliar but contextually appropriate meaning, and the rest would be distractors. As one would expect, adults and older children (10- to 12-year-olds) performed equally well on these tasks, reliably picking out the intended meanings for familiar words, non-sense words and pseudo-homonyms alike. Young children (3- to 5-year-olds), on the other hand, could understand the stories where familiar words were used conventionally, and they were reasonably good at inferring the intended meanings of non-sense words from context, but they could not do so for pseudo-homonyms. Instead, they reliably chose the picture illustrating the familiar meaning, even though the story made that meaning quite inappropriate. These results are noteworthy for several reasons. It is significant, first of all, that spontaneous positing of ambiguities did not occur. As long as the known meaning of a word comported with its use in a story, subjects show not the slightest tendency to assign that word a new, secondary meaning—just as one would expect if the acquisition process were semantically conservative. Second, note that performance in the non-sense word condition confirms the familiar finding that young children can acquire the meanings of novel words from context — just as the bootstrapping procedure suggests. Unlike older children and adults, however, these young children are unable to determine the meanings of pseudo-homo-nyms from context, even though they could do so for pseudo-words — exactly what one would expect if young children assumed that words can have one meaning only. Why young children would have such a conservative bias remains controversial. Unfortunately it would take us too far afield to delve into this debate here. Doherty finds evidence that the understanding of ambiguity is strongly correlated with a grasp of synonymy, suggesting that these biases have a common source.” Doherty also finds evidence that the understanding of ambiguity/synonymy is strongly predicted by the ability to reason about false beliefs, suggesting the intriguing hypothesis that young children’s biases are due to their lack of a representational ‘theory of mind’).”  Cf. Grice on transmission of true beliefs in “Meaning, revisited.” – a transcendental argument.Bontly: “Nonetheless, Mazzocco’s results provide empirical evidence for our conjecture that a person will typically posit a second meaning for a known word only when necessary (and, as with young children, not always then). And that, of course, is precisely the sort of process assumption that would make Grice’s “M. O. R.” a reasonable principle for theory choice in semantics. For we have been operating under the assumption that the principal task of linguistic semantics is to describe the competent speaker’s tacit linguistic knowledge. If that knowledge is shaped by a process biased toward semantic parsimony, our semantic theorizing ought surely to be biased in the same direction. Is Pragmatism Vindicated?” That said, the question is still open whether Grice’s “M. O. R.,” understood now developmentally, ontogenetically, and not phylogenetically, as perhaps Millikan would prefer, has such consequences as Gricea typically assumes. In particular, it remains for us to consider whether and, if so, when the above process assumptions favor implicaturum hypotheses over ambiguity hypotheses, and the answer would seem to hang on two further issues. First, there is in each case the question whether a child learning the language will find it necessary to posit a second sense for a given expression. The fact that linguists, apprised as they are of the principles of conversation, find it unnecessary to introduce a second sense for (e.g.) ‘or’ does NOT imply that children would find it unnecessary. For one thing, children might acquire the various uses of ‘or’ well before they have any pragmatic understanding themselves.”Cfr. You can eat the cake or the sandwich.”Bontly: Even if they do not, the order in which the various uses are acquired could make considerable difference.It may be, for instance, that a child who first learned the inclusive use of ‘or’ would have no need to posit a second exclusive sense, whereas a child who originally interpreted ‘or’ exclusively might need eventually to posit an additional, inclusive sense. So we may well have to determine what meaning children first attach to an expression in order to determine whether they would find it necessary to posit a second. The issues raised above are pretty clearly empirical ones, and significant inter-personal differences could complicate matters considerably. Just for the sake of argument, however, let us grant that children do indeed first learn to interpret ‘or’ inclusively, to interpret ‘and’ as mere conjunction, and so on. Let us assume, that is, that the meanings which Grice typically takes to be conventional are just that. In fact, the assumption that weak uses are typically learned first has garnered some empirical support, as one referee brought to my attention. Paris shows that children are less likely than adults to interpret ‘or’ exclusively (see also Sternberg, and Braine and Rumain). More recent experimental work indicates that children first learn to interpret ‘and’ a-temporally (Noveck and Chevaux) and ‘some’ weakly (as compatible with ‘all’) (Noveck, 2001). Even so, it remains an interesting question whether children would posit secondary senses for any of these expressions, and Grice would be on firm ground in arguing that they would not. First, the ‘ambiguities’ discussed at the outset all involve secondary uses which can, with the help of pragmatic principles, be understood in terms of the presumed primary meaning of the expression. If a child, encountering this secondary use for the first time, already knows the primary meaning, and if he has moreover an understanding of the norms of conversation—if he is a ‘Griceian child’ —, he ought to be able to understand the secondary use perfectly well. He can recover the implicaturum and infer the speaker’s meaning from the encoded meaning of the utterance. To the ‘Griceian child,’ therefore, the utterance would not be anomalous. It would make perfect sense in context, giving him no reason to posit a secondary meaning. But what about children who are not yet Griceans — children too young to understand pragmatic principles or to have the conceptual resources to make inferences about other people’s likely communicative intentions? While there seems to be no consensus as to when pragmatic abilities emerge, several considerations suggest that they develop fairly early. Bloom argues that pragmatic understanding is part of the best account of how children learn the meanings of words. Papafragou discusses evidence that children can calculate implicaturums as early as age three. Such children, knowing only the primary meaning of the expression, would be unable to recover the conversational implicaturum and thus unable to grasp the secondary use of the expression via the pragmatic route. Nonetheless, I argue that they would still (at least in most cases) find it unnecessary to posit a second meaning for the expression. Consider: the ‘ambiguities’ at issue all involve secondary meanings which are specificatory, being identical to the primary but for some additional feature making it more restricted or specific. The primary and second meanings would thus be privative, as opposed to polar, opposites; Zwicky and Sadock). What a speaker means when he uses the expression in this secondary way, therefore, would typically imply the proposition he would mean if he were speaking literally (i.e. if he were using the primary meaning of the expression). One could thus say something true using the secondary sense only in contexts where one could say something true using the primary sense—whenever ‘P exclusive-or Q’ is true, so is ‘P inclusive-or Q’; whenever ‘P and-then Q’ is true, so is ‘P and Q’; and so on. Thus even when the intended meaning involves the alleged second sense, the utterance would still come out true if interpreted with the primary sense in mind. And this means, crucially, that the utterance would not seem anomalous, there being no obvious clash between the primary interpretation of the utterance and the conversational context. The utterance may well be pragmatically inappropriate when interpreted this way, but our pre-Gricean child is insensitive to such niceties. Otherwise, he would be already a ‘Gricean’ child. On our account, therefore, the pre-Gricean child still sees no need to posit a second meaning for the expression, even though he could not grasp the intended (specificatory) meaning. We may illustrate the above with the help of an ‘ambiguity’ in the indefinite description (“a dog”) made famous by Grice. A philosopher would ordinarily take an expressions of the form ‘an F’ to be a straightforward existential quantifier, “(Ex)”, as would seem to be the case in ‘I am going to a meeting’ On the other hand, an utterance of ‘I broke a finger’ seems to imply that it is my finger which I broke (unless you are a nurse – I think Horn’s cancellation goes), whereas ‘I saw a dog in the backyard’ would seem to carry the opposite sort of implication — i.e. that it was not my dog which I saw.”Grice finds this delightful ‘reductio’ of the sense-positer: “a” would have _three_ senses!Bontly: “We have then the potential for a three-way ambiguity, but our ruminations on word learning argue against it.”Take a child who has learned (somehow) the weak (existential quantier) use of ‘an F’ (Ex)Fx, but has for some reason never been exposed to strong uses: ‘my,’ ‘not mine.’ Now the child hears his mother say ‘Come look! There is a dog in the backyard!’ Running to the window, the child sees not his mother’s pet dog Fido, but some strange dog, that is not her mother’s. To an adult, this would be entirely predictable.” Using the indefinite description ‘a dog’ (logical form, “(Ex)Dx”) instead of the name for the utterer’s dog would lead one to expect that Fido (the utterer’s dog) is not the dog in question.”Actually, like Ryle, Grice has a shaggy-dog story in WJ5, “That dog is hairy-coated.” “Shaggy, if you must!”. Bontly: “And if the child were of an age to have a rudimentary understanding of the pragmatic aspects of language use, he would make the same prediction and thus see no need here to posit a second ‘sense’ for ‘an F,’ and take ‘not mine’ as an implicaturum.”It’s different with what Grice would have as an ‘established idiom’ (his example, “He’s pushing up the daisies,” but not “He is fertilizing the daffodils”) as one might argue that “I broke a finger” is. Bontly: “The child would not, because the intended, contextually appropriate interpretation would be clear given the primary meaning plus pragmatics, or implicaturum. But even if the child fails to grasp the intended meaning of his mother’s remark, it still seems unlikely that the child would be compelled to posit an ambiguity. No matter what the child’s mother means, there is, after all, a dog in the backyard (“Gotcha! That’s _a_ dog, my Fido is, ain’t it?!”). So the primary interpretation still yields a true proposition. While the ‘pre-Gricean child’ thus misses (part of) the intended meaning of the utterance, still he would not experience a clash between his interpretation and the contextually appropriate interpretation. Perhaps the pre-Gricean child could be forced to see an anomaly. Consider the following example. A parent offers her pre-Gricean child dessert, saying, ‘Ice-cream, or cake?’ When the child helps himself to some of each, the mother removes the cake with a look of annoyance and says:‘I said ice-cream OR cake’.  “While the mother’s behavioural response makes it abundantly clear that the child’s ‘inclusive’ interpretation is inappropriate, there are several reasons why he might still refrain from positing an ambiguity. For one, young children, who are more Griceian (even pre-Griceian) and logical than a few adults, appear to operate under the assumption that a word can have one meaning only, and it may be that pre-Gricean children are simply unable to override this assumption. This would seem particularly likely if Doherty is right that the ability to understand ambiguity requires a robust ‘theory of mind’.At any rate, the position taken here is that recognition of anomaly is necessary for one to posit a second meaning, not that it is sufficient. Contrast this with a similar case where, coming to the window, the child sees no dog but does see (e.g.) a motorcycle, a tree, a bird, and a fence.Then he would have reason to consider an ambiguity, though other explanations might also fit.” “Perhaps Mom was joking or hallucinating.” The claim is, then, that language acquisition works in such a way as to make it unlikely that learners would introduce a second senses for the ‘ambiguities’ in question. Of course, that claim is contingent on a very large assumption — viz., that the meaning which Grice take to be lexically ‘encoded’ is indeed the primary meaning of the expression — and that assumption may be mistaken.” In the continuing debate over Donnellan’s referential/attributive distinction, for instance, Grice takes it as uncontroversial that Russell on ‘the’ provides at least one of the conventional interpretations for sentences of the form ‘The king of France is bald’ (i.e., the attributive interpretation).” Grice’s example in “Vacuous names,” that Bontly quotes,  is “Jones’s butler mixed our coats and hats,” when “Jones’s butler” is actually Jones’s haberdasher dressed as a butler for the occasion.” So Grice distinguishes between THE butler (identificatory) and ‘the’ butler (non-identificatory, whoever he might be). Bontly: From there, they argue that we needn’t posit a secondary (referential) semantics for descriptions since the referential use can be captured by Russell’s theory supplemented by Grice’s pragmatics. Grice, 1969 (Vacuous Names); Kripke, 1977; Neale, 1990). From a developmental perspective, however, the ‘uncontroversial’ assumption that Russell on ‘the’ provides the primary meaning for description phrases is certainly questionable. It being likely that the vast majority of descriptions children hear early in life are used referentially, Grice’s position could conceivably have things exactly backwards— perhaps the referential is primary with the attributive acquired later, either as an additional meaning or a pragmatic extension. Still, the fact, if it is a fact, that a referential use is more common in children’s early environment does not imply that the referential is acquired first.” Exclusive uses of ‘or’ are at least as frequent as inclusive uses, and yet there is a good deal of evidence that the inclusive is developmentally primary. (Paris, Sternberg, Braine and Rumain). Either way, the point remains that plausible assumptions about language acquisition do indeed justify a role for parsimony in semantics. These ‘process’ assumptions may, of course, turn out to be incorrect.” If the evidence points the other way—if it emerges that the learning process posits ambiguities quite freely—then Grice’s “M. O. R.” could conceivably be groundless.”Making it a matter of empirical support or lack thereof, and that was perhaps why Millikan thought that was the wrong way to go? But then if she thought the evolutionary was the right way to go, wouldn’t THAT make Grice’s initially ‘sort of’ analytic pragmatist methodological philosophical decision a matter of fact or lack thereof? Bontly: “Nonetheless, we can see now that the debate between Grice and the conventionalists is ultimately an empirical, rather than, as Grice perhaps thougth, a conceptual one. Choices between pragmatic and semantic accounts may be under-determined by Grice’s intuitions about meaning and use, but they need not be under-determined tout court. Then there’s Tradeoffs, Dead Metaphors, and a Dilemma. The developmental approach to parsimony provides some purchase on the problems regarding tradeoffs and dead metaphors as well. The former problem is that parsimony can be a double-edged sword. While an ambiguity account does multiply senses, the implicaturum account appears to multiply inferential labour. Hearers have to ‘work out’ or ‘calculate’ the utterer’s meaning from the conversational principle, without the benefit of a list of possible meanings as in disambiguation. Pragmatic inference thus seems complex and time-consuming. But the fact is that we are rarely conscious of engaging in any reasoning of the sort Grice requires, pace his Principle of Economy of Rational Effort. Consequently, the claim that communicators actually work through all these complicated inferences seems psychologically unrealistic. To combat these charges, Grice’s response is to claim that implicaturum calculation is largely unconscious and implicit.”Indeed Grice’s principle of economy of rational effort. Bontly: “Background assumptions can be taken for granted, steps can be skipped, and only rarely need the entire process breach the surface of consciousness. This picture seems particularly plausible with a generalised implicaturum as opposed to a particularized one.” When a particular use of an expression E, though unconventional, has become standard or regular (“I broke a finger”? “He’s pushing up the daisies”), the inferential process can be considerably stream-lined; it gets ‘short-circuited’ or ‘compressed by precedent’ (Bach and Harnish). “Bach’s and Harnish’s notion of short-circuited inference is similar to but not quite the same as J. L. Morgan’s notion of short-circuited implicaturum. The latter involves conventions of use (as Searle would put it), to which Bach and Harnish see their account as an alternative. Levinson objects to Bach’s and Harnish’s characterization of default inferences as those compressed by the weight of precedent. A generalised implicaturum, Levinson says, ‘is generative, driven by general heuristics and not dependent on routinization’ But Levinson’s complaint against Bach and Harnish may seem uncharitable. Even on Bach’s and Harnish’s view, where a default inference is that ‘compressed by the weight of precedent’, a generalised implicaturum is still generative: it is still generated by the maxims of conversation. Only the stream-lined character of the inference is dependent on precedent, not the implicaturum itself. If the addressee has calculated the EXCLUSIVE meaning of ‘or’ enough times in the past (from  his mother, we’ll assume) it becomes the default, allowing one to proceed directly to the exclusive interpretation (unless something about the context provides a clue that the standard interpretation would here be inappropriate. Now, the idea that the generalised implicaturum can be the default interpretation, reached without all the fancy inference, provides an obvious reply to the worry about tradeoffs. While it is true that a pragmatic inference, as Grice calls it, in contrast with the ‘logical inference, -- “Retrospective Epilogue” -- are in principle abductive, fairly complex and potentially laborious, familiarity can simplify the process enormously, to the point where it becomes no more difficult than dis-ambiguation.” But the appeal to a default interpretation raises an interesting difficulty that (to my knowledge) Grice never adequately addressed. It is now quite unclear why this default interpretation should be considered an implicaturum rather than an additional sense of the expression.”Because it’s cancellable?Bontly: “To say that it is a default interpretation is, after all, to say that utterers and addressees learn to associate that interpretation with the type of expression in question. The default meaning is known in advance, and all one has to do is be on the lookout for information that could rule it out. “‘Short-circuited’ implicaturum-calculation is thus hard to differentiate from disambiguation, making Grice’s hypothesis look more like a notional variant than a real competitor to the ambiguity hypothesis. Insofar as Grice has considered this problem, his answer appears to be that linguistic meanings, being conventional, are inherently arbitrary.”cf. Bach and Harnish, 1979, pp. 192–195).”Indeed, in his evolutionary take on language, it all starts with Green’s self-expression. You get hit, and you express pain unvoluntarily. Then you proceed to simulate the response in absence of the hit, but the meaning is “I’m in pain.” Finally, you adopt the conventions, arbitrary, and say, ‘pain,’ which is only arbitrarily connected with, well, the pain. It is the last stage that Grice stresses as ‘artificial,’ and ‘arbitrary,’ “non-iconic,” as he retorts to Peirceian terminology he was familiar with since his Oxford days. Bontly: “The exclusive use of ‘or’, on the other hand, is entirely predictable from the conversational principle, so there is nothing arbitrary about it. Thus the exclusive interpretation cannot be part of the encoded meaning, even if it is the default interpretation. Familiarity with that use, in other words, can remove the need to go through the canonical inference, but it does not change the fact that the use has a ‘natural’ (i.e., non-conventional, principled, indeed rational) explanation. It doesn’t change the fact that it is calculable. At this point, however, Grice’s defense of default pragmatic interpretations collides with our remaining issue, the problem of a dead metaphor, such as “He is pushing up the daisies.”” Or as Grice prefers, an ‘established’ or ‘recognised’ ‘idiom.’Bontly: “A metaphor and other conversational implicatura can become conventionalized and ‘die’, turning into new senses. In many such cases the original rationale for the use is long forgotten, but in other cases the dead metaphor remains calculable. A dead metaphors thus pose a nasty, macabre?, dilemma for Grice.”Especially if the implicaturum is “He is dead”!Bontly: “On the one hand, it is tempting to argue that a dead metaphor involves a new conventional meaning precisely because the interpretation in question is no longer actually inferred via Gricean inferences (though one could do so if one had to—if, say, one somehow forgot that the expression had this secondary meaning). If a conversational implicaturum had to be not just calculaBLE but actually calculatED, that would suffice to explain why this one-time, one-off, implicaturum is now semantically significant. But that reply is apparently closed to pragmatists, for then it will be said that the same is true of (e.g.) the exclusive use of ‘or.’ The exclusive interpretation is certainly calculabLE, but since no one actually calculatES it (except in the most unusual of circumstances, as Grice at Harvard!), the implication should be considered semantic, not pragmatic. On the other hand, Grice might maintain that an implicaturum need only be calculabLE and stick by their view that the exclusive reading of ‘or’ is conversationally implicated. But then we shall have to face the consequence that many a dead metaphor (“He is pushing up the daisies”) is likewise calculabLE and thus, according to the present view, ought not to be considered conventional meanings of the expressions in question, which in most cases seems quite wrong.”I’m never sure what Grice means by an ‘established idiom.’ Established by whom? Perhaps he SHOULD consult the dictionary every now and then! Sad the access to OED3 is so expensive!Bontly: What one needs, evidently, is some reason to treat these two types of cases differently.To treat the exclusive use of ‘or’ as an implicaturum (even though it is only rarely calculatED as such) while at the same time to view (e.g.) the once metaphorical use of ‘incense’ (or ‘… pushing up the daisies”) as semantically significant (even though it remains calculabLE).” And the developmental account of parsimony offers just such a reason. On the present view, the reason that the ambiguity account has the burden of proof has to do with the nature of the acquisition, learning, ontogenetical process and specifically with the presumption that language learners will avoid postulating unnecessary senses. But the implicaturum must be calculable by the learner, given his prior understanding of the expression E and his level of pragmatic sophistication.”Grice was a sophisticated. As I think Dora B.-O knows, Moore has been claiming that Grice’s idea that animals cannot mean, because they are not ‘sophisticated’ enough, is an empirical claim, even for Grice!Bontly: “t may be, therefore, that children at the relevant developmental stage have no difficulty understanding the exclusive use of ‘or’ (etc.) as an implicaturum and yet lack the understanding necessary to predict that ‘incense’ could be used to mean to make or become angry, or that to say of someone that he ‘is pushing up the daisies,’ means that, having died and getting buried, the corpse is helping the flowers to grow. The child might not realize, for instance, that ‘incense’ also means an aromatic substance that burns with a pleasant odour, and even those who do probably lack the general background knowledge necessary to appreciate the metaphorical connections between burning and emotion.”Cf. Turner and Fauconnier on ‘blends.’Bontly: Either way, the metaphor would be dead to the child, forcing him to learn that use the same way they learn any arbitrary convention.”It may do to explore ‘established idioms’ in, say, parts of England, which are not so ‘established’ in OTHER parts. Nancy Mitford with his U and non-U distinction may do. “He went to Haddon Hall” invites, for Mitford, the ‘unintended’ implicaturum that the utterer is NOT upper-class. “Surely we drop “hall.’ What else can Haddon be?” But the inference may be lacking for a non-U addressee or utterer. Similarly, in the north of England, “our Mary,” invites the implicaturum of ‘affection,’ and this may go over the head of members of the south-of-England community.Bontly: “The way out of the dilemma, then, is to look to learning.”Alla Kripkenstein?Bontly: To the problem of tradeoffs, Grice can reply that it is better to multiply (if we must use the Occamist verb) inferences – logical inference and pragmatic inference -- than multiply senses because language acquisition is biased in that direction. And Grice may likewise answer the problem of a dead metaphor, or established idiom like, “He’s been pushing up the daisies for some time, now. The reason that Grice’s “M. O. R.” does not mandate an implicaturum account for Grice as well is that such a dead metaphor or established idiom is not calculable by children at the time they learn such expressions, even if they are calculable by some adult speakers.”Is that a fact? I would think that a child is a ‘relentless literalist,’ as Grice called Austin. “Pushing up the daisies?” “I don’t see any daisies!”I think Brigitte Nerlich has a similar example re: irony: MOTHER: What a BEAUTIFUL day! (ironically)CHILD: What do you mean? It’s pouring and nasty. MOTHER: I was being ironic.I don’t think the child is going to posit a second sense to ‘beautiful’ meaning ‘nasty.’Bontly: “For the deciding question in applying Grice’s “M. O. R.” is NOT whether the implicaturum account is available to a philosopher like Grice, but whether it is available to the learner! On this way of carving things up, by the way, some alleged ambiguities which Grice would treat as implicatura could turn out to be semantically significant after all. Likewise, some allegedly dead metaphor may turn out to be very much alive.” Look! He did kick the bucket!” “But he’s PRETENDING to die, dear! Some uses, finally, may vary from utterer to utterer, there being no guarantee that every utterer will have learned the use in the same way. As a conclusion, a better understanding of developmental processes might therefore enlarge our appreciation of the ways in which semantics and pragmatics interact.”Indeed.REFERENCES Atlas, J. D. “Philosophy without Ambiguity.” Oxford: Clarendon Press. E: Wolfson, Oxford. Philosopher. And S. Levinson, “It-clefts, informativeness, and logical form: Radical pragmatics (revised standard version),” in P. Cole (ed.), Radical Pragmatics. New York: Academic Press.Bach, K. “Thought and Reference,” Oxford.“Conversational impliciture,” Mind & Language, 9And R. Harnish, “Linguistic Communication and Speech Acts,” Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Bloom, P. “How Children Learn the Meanings of Words,” Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.  “Mind-reading, communication and the learning of names for things,” Mind & Language, 17Braine, M. and Rumain, B. “Development of comprehension of ‘or’: evidence for a sequence of developmental competencies,” Journal of Experimental Child Psychology, 31. Davis, S. (ed.) “Pragmatics: A Reader,” Oxford Devitt, M. “The case for referential descriptions,” in M. Reimer/A. Bezuidenhout, “Descriptions and Beyond,” Oxford Doherty, M. “Children’s understanding of homonymy: meta-linguistic awareness and false belief,” Journal of Child Language, 27 Gazdar, G. “Pragmatics: Implicaturum, Presupposition, and Logical Form,” New York: Academic Press. Gleitman, L. “The structural sources of verb meanings,” Language Acquisition, 1Grice, H. P. “Vacuous names,” in D. Davidson and J. Hintikka, Words and Objections. Dordrecht: Reidel. Repr. in part in Ostertag, “Definite descriptions,” MIT.Logic and Conversation. In P. Cole and J. Morgan (eds.), Syntax and Semantics, vol. 3, Speech Acts. New York: Academic Press, pp. 41–58. Reprinted in Grice, 1989, and Davis, 1991. Grice, P. 1978: Further notes on logic and conversation. In P. Cole (ed.), Syntax and Semantics, vol. 9, Pragmatics. New York: Academic Press, pp. 113–128. Reprinted in Grice, 1989. Presupposition and conversational implicaturum. In P. Cole (ed.), Radical Pragmatics. New York: Academic Press, 183–198. Reprinted in Grice, 1989. Studies in the Way of Words. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Hesse, M. “Simplicity,” in P. Edwards (ed.), The Encyclopedia of Philosophy. New York: MacMillan.Jackendoff, R. “Foundations of Language: Brain, Meaning, Grammar, Evolution,” Oxford. Kripke, S. “Speaker’s reference and semantic reference,” Midwest Studies in Philosophy, Repr. in Davis, 1991. Levinson, S. “Pragmatics,” Cambridge.“Presumptive Meanings: The Theory of Generalized Conversational Implicaturum,” Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Markman, E./G. Wachtel, “Childrens’ use of mutual exclusivity to constrain the meaning of words,” Cognitive Psychology, 20Mazzocco, M. “Children’s interpretations of homonyms: A developmental study,” Journal of Child Language, 24Morgan, J. L. “Two types of convention in indirect speech acts,” n P. Cole (ed.): Syntax and Semantics, vol. 9, Pragmatics. New York: Academic Press, reprinted in Davis, 1991. Newton, I. “Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy,” A. Motte (trans.) and F. Cajori (rev.). Repr. in R. Hutchins (ed.), Great Books of the Western World, vol. 34. Chicago: Encyclopedia Britannica, Inc., 1952. Noveck, I. When children are more logical than adults are: Experimental investigations of scalar implicaturum, Cognition, 78, 165–188. And F. Chevaux, “The pragmatic development of and. In A. Ho, S. Fish, and B. Skarabela, Proceedings of the 26th Annual Boston University Conference on Language Development. Somerville, MA: Cascadilla Press.Papafragou, A. “Mind-reading and verbal communication,” Mind & Language, 17Paris, S. “Comprehension of language connectives and propositional logical relationships,” Journal of Experimental Child Psychology, 16.Peters, A./E. Zaidel, “The acquisition of homonymy. Cognition, 8.Pinker, S. “Language Learnability and Language Development,” Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Reimer, M. “Donnellan’s distinction/Kripke’s test.” Analysis, 58.Ruhl, C. “On Monosemy: A Study in Linguistic Semantics,” Albany, NY: SUNY Press. Sadock, J. “On testing for conversational implicaturum,” in P. Cole (ed.), Syntax and Semantics, vol. 9, Pragmatics. New York: Academic Press, Repr. in Davis, 1991. Searle, J. R. “Indirect speech acts,” n P. Cole and J. Morgan, Syntax and Semantics, vol. 3, Speech Acts. New York: Academic Press, Repr. in Davis, 1991. Slobin, D. “Crosslinguistic evidence for a language-making capacity,” n D. Slobin, The Cross-linguistic Study of Language Acquisition, vol. 2. Hillsdale, NJ: Erlbaum. Smart, J. “Ockham’s razor,” in J. Fetzer, “Principles of Philosophical Reasoning,” Totowa, NJ: Rowan and Allanheld. Sober, E. “The principle of parsimony,” The British Journal for the Philosophy of Science, 32“Reconstructing the Past,” Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.“Let’s razor Ockham’s razor,” in D. Knowles, Explanation and Its Limits. Cambridge.Stalnaker, R. C. “Pragmatic presupposition,” in M. Munitz/P. Unger, “Semantics and Philosophy,” New York: Academic Press, pp. 197–213. Repr. in Davis, 1991. Stampe, D. W. “Attributives and interrogatives,” in M. Munitz/P. Unger, Semantics and Philosophy. New York: Academic Press.Sternberg, R. “Developmental patterns in the encoding and combination of logical connectives,” Journal of Experimental Child Psychology, 28 Van Fraassen, B. “The Scientific Image,” Oxford.Walker, R. C. S. “Conversational implicaturums: a reply to Cohen,” in S. W. Blackburn, Meaning, Reference, and Necessity. Cambridge. Ziff, P. “Semantic Analysis.” Ithaca: Cornell University Press. Zwicky, A./J. Sadock, “Ambiguity tests and how to fail them,” in J. Kimball, Syntax and Semantics, vol. 4. New York: Academic Press.Refs: The Grice Papers, BANC, Bancroft.

MESURA -- CUM-MESURATUM -- commensuratum:  There’s commensurability and there’s incommensurability – “But Protagoras never explies what makes man commensurable – only implies it!” In the philosophy of science, the property exhibited by two scientific theories provided that, even though they may not logically contradict one another, they have reference to no common body of data. Positivist and logical empiricist philosophers of science like Carnap had long sought an adequate account of a theoryneutral language to serve as the basis for testing competing theories. The predicates of this language were thought to refer to observables; the observation language described the observable world or (in the case of theoretical terms) could do so in principle. This view is alleged to suffer from two major defects. First, observation is infected with theory – what else could specify the meanings of observation terms except the relevant theory? Even to perceive is to interpret, to conceptualize, what is perceived. And what about observations made by instruments? Are these not completely constrained by theory? Second, studies by Kuhn, Paul Feyerabend, and others argued that in periods of revolutionary change in science the adoption of a new theory includes acceptance of a completely new conceptual scheme that is incommensurable with the older, now rejected, theory. The two theories are incommensurable because their constituent terms cannot have reference to a theory-neutral set of observations; there is no overlap of observational meaning between the competitor theories; even the data to be explained are different. Thus, when Galileo overthrew the physics of Aristotle he replaced his conceptual scheme – his “paradigm” – with one that is not logically incompatible with Aristotle’s, but is incommensurable with it because in a sense it is about a different world (or the world conceived entirely differently). Aristotle’s account of the motion of bodies relied upon occult qualities like natural tendencies; Galileo’s relied heavily upon contrived experimental situations in which variable factors could be mathematically calculated. Feyerabend’s even more radical view is that unless scientists introduce new theories incommensurable with older ones, science cannot possibly progress, because falsehoods will never be uncovered. It is an important implication of these views about incommensurability that acceptance of theories has to do not only with observable evidence, but also with subjective factors, social pressures, and expectations of the scientific community. Such acceptance appears to threaten the very possibility of developing a coherent methodology for science.