paradigm-case argument:
Grice tries to give the general form of this argument, as applied to Urmson,
and Grice and Strawson. I wonder if Grice thought that STRAWSON’s appeal to
resentment to prove freewill is paradigm case? The idiom was coined by Grice’s
first tutee at St. John’s, G. N. A. Flew, and he applied it to ‘free will.’
Grice later used it to describe the philosophising by Urmson (in
“Retrospetive”). he issue of analyticity is, as Locke puts it, the issue of
whats trifle. That a triangle is trilateral Locke considers a trifling
proposition, like Saffron is yellow. Lewes (who calls mathematical propositions
analytic) describes the Kantian problem. The reductive analysis of meaning Grice
offers depends on the analytic. Few Oxonian philosophers would follow Loar, D.
Phil Oxon, under Warnock, in thinking of Grices conversational maxims as
empirical inductive generalisations over functional states! Synthesis may do in
the New World,but hardly in the Old! The locus classicus for the
ordinary-language philosophical response to Quine in Two dogmas of empiricism.
Grice and Strawson claim that is analytic does have an ordinary-language use,
as attached two a type of behavioural conversational response. To an
analytically false move (such as My neighbours three-year-old son is an adult)
the addressee A is bound to utter, I dont understand you! You are not being
figurative, are you? To a synthetically false move, on the other hand (such as
My neighbours three-year-old understands Russells Theory of Types), the
addressee A will jump with, Cant believe it! The topdogma of analyticity
is for Grice very important to defend. Philosophy depends on it! He
knows that to many his claim to fame is his In defence of a dogma, the topdogma
of analyticity, no less. He eventually turns to a pragmatist justification
of the distinction. This pragmatist justification is still in accordance
with what he sees as the use of analytic in ordinary language. His infamous
examples are as follows. My neighbours three-year old understands Russells
Theory of Types. A: Hard to believe, but I will. My neighbours three-year
old is an adult. Metaphorically? No. Then I dont understand you, and
what youve just said is, in my scheme of things, analytically false.
Ultimately, there are conversational criteria, based on this or that principle
of conversational helfpulness. Grice is also circumstantially concerned with
the synthetic a priori, and he would ask his childrens playmates: Can a
sweater be red and green all over? No stripes allowed! The distinction is
ultimately Kantian, but it had brought to the fore by the linguistic turn,
Oxonian and other! In defence of a dogma, Two dogmas of
empiricism, : the analytic-synthetic distinction. For Quine, there
are two. Grice is mainly interested in the first one: that there is a
distinction between the analytic and the synthetic. Grice considers Empiricism
as a monster on his way to the Rationalist City of Eternal Truth. Grice
came back time and again to explore the analytic-synthetic distinction. But his
philosophy remained constant. His sympathy is for the practicality of it, its
rationale. He sees it as involving formal calculi, rather than his own theory
of conversation as rational co-operation which does not presuppose the
analytic-synthetic distinction, even if it explains it! Grice would press the
issue here: if one wants to prove that such a theory of conversation as
rational co-operation has to be seen as philosophical, rather than some other
way, some idea of analyticity may be needed to justify the philosophical
enterprise. Cf. the synthetic a priori, that fascinated Grice most than
anything Kantian else! Can a sweater be green and red all over? No stripes
allowed. With In defence of a dogma, Grice and Strawson attack a New-World
philosopher. Grice had previously collaborated with Strawson in an essay on Met. (actually a three-part piece, with Pears as
the third author). The example Grice chooses to refute attack by Quine of the
top-dogma is the Aristotelian idea of the peritrope, as Aristotle refutes
Antiphasis in Met. (v. Ackrill, Burnyeat
and Dancy). Grice explores chapter Γ 8 of Aristotles Met.
. In Γ 8, Aristotle presents two self-refutation arguments
against two theses, and calls the asserter, Antiphasis, T1 = Everything is
true, and T2 = Everything is false, Metaph. Γ 8, 1012b13–18. Each thesis is exposed
to the stock objection that it eliminates itself. An utterer who explicitly
conveys that everything is true also makes the thesis opposite to his own true,
so that his own is not true (for the opposite thesis denies that his is true),
and any utterer U who explicitly conveys that everything is false also belies
himself. Aristotle does not seem to be claiming that, if everything
is true, it would also be true that it is false that everything is true and,
that, therefore, Everything is true must be false: the final, crucial
inference, from the premise if, p, ~p to the conclusion ~p is
missing. But it is this extra inference that seems required to have a
formal refutation of Antiphasiss T1 or T2 by consequentia mirabilis. The
nature of the argument as a purely dialectical silencer of Antiphasis is
confirmed by the case of T2, Everything is false. An utterer who explicitly
conveys that everything is false unwittingly concedes, by self-application,
that what he is saying must be false too. Again, the further and different
conclusion Therefore; it is false that everything is false is
missing. That proposal is thus self-defeating, self-contradictory (and
comparable to Grices addressee using adult to apply to three-year old, without
producing the creature), oxymoronic, and suicidal. This seems all that
Aristotle is interested in establishing through the self-refutation stock
objection. This is not to suggest that Aristotle did not believe that
Everything is true or Everything is false is false, or that he excludes that he
can prove its falsehood. Grice notes that this is not what Aristotle seems
to be purporting to establish in 1012b13–18. This holds for a περιτροπή
(peritrope) argument, but not for a περιγραφή (perigraphe) argument (συμβαίνει
δὴ καὶ τὸ θρυλούμενον πᾶσι τοῖς τοιούτοις λόγοις, αὐτοὺς ἑαυτοὺς ἀναιρεῖν. ὁ
μὲν γὰρ πάντα ἀληθῆ λέγων καὶ τὸν ἐναντίον αὑτοῦ λόγον ἀληθῆ ποιεῖ, ὥστε τὸν
ἑαυτοῦ οὐκ ἀληθῆ (ὁ γὰρ ἐναντίος οὔ φησιν αὐτὸν ἀληθῆ), ὁ δὲ πάντα ψευδῆ καὶ
αὐτὸς αὑτόν.) It may be emphasized that Aristotles argument does not
contain an explicit application of consequentia mirabilis. Indeed, no
extant self-refutation argument before Augustine, Grice is told by Mates,
contains an explicit application of consequentia mirabilis. This observation is
a good and important one, but Grice has doubts about the consequences one may
draw from it. One may take the absence of an explicit application of
consequentia mirabilis to be a sign of the purely dialectical nature of the
self-refutation argument. This is questionable. The formulation of a
self-refutation argument (as in Grices addressee, Sorry, I misused adult.) is
often compressed and elliptical and involves this or that implicaturum. One
usually assumes that this or that piece in a dialectical context has been
omitted and should be supplied (or worked out, as Grice prefers) by the
addressee. But in this or that case, it is equally possible to supply some
other, non-dialectical piece of reasoning. In Aristotles arguments from Γ
8, e.g., the addressee may supply an inference to the effect that the thesis
which has been shown to be self-refuting is not true. For if Aristotle
takes the argument to establish that the thesis has its own contradictory
version as a consequence, it must be obvious to Aristotle that the thesis is
not true (since every consequence of a true thesis is true, and two
contradictory theses cannot be simultaneously true). On the further
assumption (that Grice makes explicit) that the principle of bivalence is
applicable, Aristotle may even infer that the thesis is false. It is
perfectly plausible to attribute such an inference to Aristotle and to supply
it in his argument from Γ 8. On this account, there is no reason to think
that the argument is of an intrinsically dialectical nature and cannot be
adequately represented as a non-dialectical proof of the non-truth, or even
falsity, of the thesis in question. It is indeed difficult to see signs of
a dialectical exchange between two parties (of the type of which Grice and
Strawson are champions) in Γ8, 1012b13–18. One piece of evidence is
Aristotles reference to the person, the utterer, as Grice prefers who
explicitly conveys or asserts (ὁ λέγων) that T1 or that T2. This reference
by the Grecian philosopher to the Griceian utterer or asserter of the thesis
that everything is true would be irrelevant if Aristotles aim is to prove
something about T1s or T2s propositional content, independently of the act
by the utterer of uttering its expression and thereby explicitly conveying
it. However, it is not clear that this reference is essential to
Aristotles argument. One may even doubt whether the Grecian philosopher is
being that Griceian, and actually referring to the asserter of T1 or T2. The
*implicit* (or implicated) grammatical Subjects of Aristotles ὁ λέγων (1012b15)
might be λόγος, instead of the utterer qua asserter. λόγος is surely the
implicit grammatical Subjects of ὁ λέγων shortly after ( 1012b21–22.
8). The passage may be taken to be concerned with λόγοι ‒ this or
that statement, this or that thesis ‒ but not with its
asserter. In the Prior Analytics, Aristotle states that no thesis (A
three-year old is an adult) can necessarily imply its own contradictory (A
three-year old is not an adult) (2.4, 57b13–14). One may appeal to this
statement in order to argue for Aristotles claim that a self-refutation
argument should NOT be analyzed as involving an implicit application of
consequentia mirabilis. Thus, one should deny that Aristotles self-refutation
argument establishes a necessary implication from the self-refuting thesis to
its contradictory. However, this does not explain what other kind of
consequence relation Aristotle takes the self-refutation argument to establish
between the self-refuting thesis and its contradictory, although dialectical necessity
has been suggested. Aristotles argument suffices to establish that Everything
is false is either false or liar-paradoxical. If a thesis is
liar-paradoxical (and Grice loved, and overused the expression), the assumption
of its falsity leads to contradiction as well as the assumption of its
truth. But Everything is false is only liar-paradoxical in the unlikely,
for Aristotle perhaps impossible, event that everything distinct from this
thesis is false. So, given the additional premise that there is at least
one true item distinct from the thesis Everything is false, Aristotle can
safely infer that the thesis is false. As for Aristotles ὁ γὰρ λέγων τὸν ἀληθῆ
λόγον ἀληθῆ ἀληθής,, or eliding the γὰρ, ὁ λέγων τὸν
ἀληθῆ λόγον ἀληθῆ ἀληθής, (ho legon ton alethe logon alethe alethes) may be
rendered as either: The statement which states that the true statement is true
is true, or, more alla Grice, as He who says (or explicitly conveys, or
indicates) that the true thesis is true says something true. It may be argued
that it is quite baffling (and figurative or analogical or metaphoric) in
this context, to take ἀληθής to be predicated of the Griceian utterer, a
person (true standing for truth teller, trustworthy), to take it to mean
that he says something true, rather than his statement stating something true,
or his statement being true. But cf. L and S: ἀληθής [α^], Dor. ἀλαθής, [α^],
Dor. ἀλαθής, ές, f. λήθω, of persons, truthful, honest (not in Hom., v. infr.),
ἀ. νόος Pi. O.2.92; κατήγορος A. Th. 439; κριτής Th. 3.56; οἶνος ἀ. `in vino
veritas, Pl. Smp. 217e; ὁ μέσος ἀ. τις Arist. EN 1108a20. Admittedly, this or
that non-Griceian passage in which it is λόγος, and not the utterer, which is
the implied grammatical Subjects of ὁ λέγων can be found in Metaph. Γ7,
1012a24–25; Δ6, 1016a33; Int. 14, 23a28–29; De motu an. 10, 703a4; Eth. Nic.
2.6, 1107a6–7. 9. So the topic is controversial. Indeed such a
non-Griceian exegesis of the passage is given by Alexander of Aphrodisias (in
Metaph. 340. 26–29):9, when Alexander observes that the statement, i.e. not the
utterer, that says that everything is false (ὁ δὲ πάντα ψευδῆ εἶναι λέγων
λόγος) negates itself, not himself, because if everything is false, this very
statement, which, rather than, by which the utterer, says that everything is
false, would be false, and how can an utterer be FALSE? So that the statement
which, rather than the utterer who, negates it, saying that not everything is
false, would be true, and surely an utterer cannot be true. Does Alexander misrepresent
Aristotles argument by omitting every Griceian reference to the asserter or
utterer qua rational personal agent, of the thesis? If the answer is negative,
even if the occurrence of ὁ λέγων at 1012b15 refers to the asserter, or
utterer, qua rational personal agent, this is merely an accidental feature of
Aristotles argument that cannot be regarded as an indication of its dialectical
nature. None of this is to deny that some self-refutation argument may be of an
intrinsically dialectical nature; it is only to deny that every one is This is
in line with Burnyeats view that a dialectical self-refutation, even if
qualified, as Aristotle does, as ancient, is a subspecies of self-refutation,
but does not exhaust it. Granted, a dialectical approach may provide a useful
interpretive framework for many an ancient self-refutation argument. A
statement like If proof does not exist, proof exists ‒ that occurs in an
anti-sceptical self-refutation argument reported by Sextus
Empiricus ‒ may receive an attractive dialectical re-interpretation.
It may be argued that such a statement should not be understood at the
level of what is explicated, but should be regarded as an elliptical reminder
of a complex dialectical argument which can be described as follows. Cf. If thou
claimest that proof doth not exist, thou must present a proof of what thou
assertest, in order to be credible, but thus thou thyself admitest that proof
existeth. A similar point can be made for Aristotles famous argument in the
Protrepticus that one must philosophise. A number of sources state that this
argument relies on the implicaturum, If one must not philosophize, one must
philosophize. It may be argued that this implicaturum is an elliptical reminder
of a dialectical argument such as the following. If thy position is that thou
must not philosophise, thou must reflect on this choice and argue in its
support, but by doing so thou art already choosing to do philosophy, thereby
admitting that thou must philosophise. The claim that every instance of an ancient
self-refutation arguments is of an intrinsically dialectical nature is thus
questionable, to put it mildly. V also 340.19–26, and A. Madigan, tcomm.,
Alexander of Aphrodisias: On Aristotles Met.
4, Ithaca, N.Y., Burnyeat, Protagoras and Self-Refutation in Later Greek
Philosophy,. Grices implicaturum is that Quine should have learned Greek before
refuting Aristotle. But then *I* dont speak Greek! Strawson refuted. Refs.: The
obvious keyword is ‘analytic,’ in The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC. : For one, Grice
does not follow Aristotle, but Philo. the conditional If Alexander exists,
Alexander talks or If Alexander exists, he has such-and-such an age is not
true—not even if he is in fact of such-and-such an age when the proposition is
said. (in APr 175.34–176.6)⁴³ ⁴³
… δείκνυσιν ὅτι μὴ οἷόν τε δυνατῷ τι ἀδύνατον ἀκολουθεῖν, ἀλλ᾿ ἀνάγκη ἀδύνατον
εἶναι ᾧ τὸ ἀδύνατον ἀκολουθεῖ, ἐπὶ πάσης ἀναγκαίας ἀκολουθίας. ἔστι δὲ ἀναγκαία
ἀκολουθία οὐχ ἡ πρόσκαιρος, ἀλλὰ ἐν ᾗ ἀεὶ τὸ ἑπόμενον ἕπεσθαι ἔστι τῷ τὸ εἰλημμένον
ὡς ἡγούμενον εἶναι. οὐ γὰρ ἀληθὲς συνημμένον τὸ εἰ ᾿Αλέξανδρος ἔστιν, ᾿Αλέξανδρος
διαλέγεται, ἢ εἰ ᾿Αλέξανδρος ἔστι, τοσῶνδε ἐτῶν ἐστι, καὶ εἰ εἴη ὅτε λέγεται ἡ
πρότασις τοσούτων ἐτῶν. vide Barnes. ...
έχη δε και επιφοράν το 5 αντικείμενον τώ ήγουμένω, τότε ο τοιούτος γίνεται
δεύτερος αναπόδεικτος, ώς το ,,ει
ημέρα έστι, φώς έστιν ουχί δέ γε φώς έστιν ουκ άρα ...εί ημέρα εστι , φως έστιν ... eine unrichtige ( μοχθηρόν ) bezeichnet 142 ) , und Zwar
war es besonders Philo ...
οίον , , εί ημέρα εστι
, φως έστιν , ή άρχεται από ψεύδους και λήγει επί ψεύδος ... όπερ ήν λήγον .
bei der Obwaltende Conditional -
Nexus gar nicht in Betracht ...Philo:
If it is day, I am talking. One of Grice’s favorite paradoxes, that display the
usefulness of the implicaturum are the so-called ‘paradoxes of implication.’
Johnson, alas, uses ‘paradox’ in the singular. So there must be earlier
accounts of this in the history of philosophy. Notably in the ancient
commentators to Philo! (Greek “ei” and Roman “si”). Misleading but true – could
do.” Note that Grice has an essay on the ‘paradoxes of entailment’. As Strawson
notes, this is misleading. For Strawson these are not paradoxes. The things are
INCORRECT. For Grice, the Philonian paradoxes are indeed paradoxical because
each is a truth. Now, Strawson and Wiggins challenge this. For Grice, to utter
“if p, q” implicates that the utterer is not in a position to utter anything
stronger. He implicates that he has NON-TRUTH-FUNCTIONAL REASON or grounds to
utter “if p, q.” For Strawson, THAT is precisely what the ‘consequentialist’ is
holding. For Strawson, the utterer CONVENTIONALLY IMPLIES that the consequent
or apodosis follows, in some way, from the antecedent or protasis. Not for
Grice. For Grice, what the utterer explicitly conveys is that the conditions
that obtain are those of the Philonian conditional. He implicitly conveys that
there is n inferrability, and this is cancellable. If Strawson holds that it is
a matter of a conventional implicaturum, the issue of cancellation becomes
crucial. For Grice, to add that “But I don’t want to covey that there is any
inferrability between the protasis and the apodosis” is NOT a contradiction.
The utterer or emissor is NOT self-contradicting. And he isn’t! The first to
use the term ‘paracox’ here is a genius. Possibly Philo. It
was W. E. Johnson who first used
the expression 'paradox of
implication', explaining that a paradox of this sort arises when a
logician proceeds step by step, using accepted
principles, until a formula is reached which conflicts with common sense
[Johnson, 1921, 39].The
paradox of implication assumes many forms, some of which are not easily
recognised as involving mere varieties of the same fundamental principle.
But COMPOUND PROPOSITIONS 47 I believe that they
can all be resolved by the consideration that we cannot ivithotd qjialification
apply a com- posite and (in particular) an implicative proposition
to the further process of inference. Such application is possible
only when the composite has been reached irrespectively of any assertion
of the truth or falsity of its components. In other words, it is a
necessary con- dition for further inference that the components of
a composite should really have been entertained hypo- thetically
when asserting that composite. § 9. The theory of compound
propositions leads to a special development when in the conjunctives
the components are taken — not, as hitherto, assertorically — but
hypothetically as in the composites. The conjunc- tives will now be
naturally expressed by such words as possible or compatible, while the
composite forms which respectively contradict the conjunctives will be
expressed by such words as necessary or impossible. If we select
the negative form for these conjunctives, we should write as
contradictory pairs : Conjunctives {possible) Composites
{fiecessary) a. p does not imply q 1, p is not
implied by q c. p is not co-disjunct to q d. p is not
co-alternate to q a, p implies q b, p is implied
by q c, p is co-disjunct to q d, p is co-alternate to
q Or Otherwise, using the term 'possible' throughout,
the four conjunctives will assume the form that the several conjunctions
— pq^pq, pq ^-nd pq — are respectively /^i*- sidle. Here the word
possible is equivalent to being merely hypothetically entertained, so
that the several conjunctives are now qualified in the same way as
are the simple components themselves. Similarly the four CHAPTER
HI corresponding composites may be expressed negatively by
using the term 'impossible,' and will assume the form that the
^^;yunctions pq^ pq, pq and pq are re- spectively impossible, or (which
means the same) that the ^zVjunctions/^, ^^, pq Rnd pq are necessary.
Now just as 'possible* here means merely 'hypothetically
entertained/ so 'impossible' and 'necessary' mean re- spectively
'assertorically denied' and 'assertorically affirmed/ The
above scheme leads to the consideration of the determinate relations that
could subsist of p to q when these eight propositions (conjunctives and
composites) are combined in everypossibleway without contradiction.
Prima facie there are i6 such combinations obtained by selecting a or ay
b or 3, c or c, d or J for one of the four constituent terms. Out of
these i6 combinations, how- ever, some will involve a conjunction of
supplementaries (see tables on pp. 37, 38), which would entail the
as- sertorical affirmation or denial of one of the components / or
q, and consequently would not exhibit a relation of p to q. The combinations
that, on this ground, must be disallowed are the following nine :
cihcd, abed, abed, abed] abed, bacd, cabd, dabc\ abed. The
combinations that remain to be admitted are therefore the followino-
seven : abld, cdab\ abed, bald, cdab^ dcab\ abed. In
fact, under the imposed restriction, since a or b cannot be conjoined
with c or d, it follows that we must always conjoin a with c and d\ b
with e and d\ c with a and b\ ^with a and b. This being understood,
the COMPOUND PROPOSITIONS 49 seven permissible
combinations that remain are properly to be expressed in the more simple
forms: ab, cd\ ab, ba, cd, dc\ and abed These will be
represented (but re-arranged for purposes of symmetry) in the following
table giving all the possible relations of any proposition/ to any
proposition q. The technical names which 1 propose to adopt for the
several relations are printed in the second column of the table.
Table of possible relations of propositio7i p to proposition q.
1. {a,b)\ p implies and is implied by q 2. (a, b) : p
implies but is not implied by q, 3. {b^d): p is implied by but does
not imply q, 4. {djb^'c^d): p is neither implicans nor impli
cate nor co-disjunct nor co-alternate to g. 5. {dy c)\ /is
co-alternate but not co-disjunct to $r, 6. {Cyd):
/isco-disjunctbutnotco-alternateto$^. 7. {Cjd)'. p is co-disjunct
and co-alternate to q, p is co-implicant to q p is
super-implicant to q. p is sub-implicant to q. p is
independent of q p is sub-opponent to q p is
super-opponent to q, p is co-opponent to q, Here the symmetry
indicated by the prefixes, co-, super-, sub-, is brought out by reading
downwards and upwards to the middle line representing independence.
In this order the propositional forms range from the supreme degree of
consistency to the supreme degree of opponency, as regards the relation
of/ to ^. In tradi- tional logic the seven forms of relation are known
respec- tively by the names equipollent, superaltern, subaltern,
independent, sub-contrary, contrary, contradictory. This latter
terminology, however, is properly used to express the formal relations of
implication and opposition, whereas the terminology which I have adopted
will apply indifferently both for formal and for material relations. One of Grice’s claims to fame is his paradox, under ‘Yog
and Zog.’ Another paradox that Grice examines at length is paradox by Moore.
For Grice, unlike Nowell-Smith, an utterer who, by uttering The cat is on the
mat explicitly conveys that the cat is on the mat does not thereby implicitly
convey that he believes that the cat is on the mat. He, more crucially
expresses that he believes that the cat is on the mat ‒ and this is not
cancellable. He occasionally refers to Moores paradox in the buletic mode,
Close the door even if thats not my desire. An imperative still expresses
someones desire. The sergeant who orders his soldiers to muster at dawn because
he is following the lieutenants order. Grices first encounter with paradox
remains his studying Malcolms misleading exegesis of Moore. Refs.: The main
sources given under ‘heterologicality,’ above. ‘Paradox’ is a good keyword in
The H. P. Grice Papers, since he used ‘paradox’ to describe his puzzle about
‘if,’ but also Malcolm on Moore on the philosopher’s paradox, and paradoxes of
material implication and paradoxes of entailment. Grice’s point is that a
paradox is not something false. For Strawson it is. “The so-called paradoxes of
‘entailment’ and ‘material implication’ are a misnomer. They statements are not
paradoxical, they are false.” Not for Grice! Cf. aporia. The H. P. Grice
Papers, BANC MSS 90/135c, The Bancroft Library, University of California,
Berkeley.
Griceian paradigm, the-- paradigm:
as used by physicist – Grice: “Kuhn ain’t a philosopher – his BA was in
physics!” -- Kuhn in “The Structure of Scientific Revolutions,” 2, a set of
scientific and metaphysical beliefs that make up a theoretical framework within
which scientific theories can be tested, evaluated, and if necessary revised.
Kuhn’s principal thesis, in which the notion of a paradigm plays a central
role, is structured around an argument against the logical empiricist view of
scientific theory change. Empiricists viewed theory change as an ongoing smooth
and cumulative process in which empirical facts, discovered through observation
or experimentation, forced revisions in our theories and thus added to our
ever-increasing knowledge of the world. It was claimed that, combined with this
process of revision, there existed a process of intertheoretic reduction that
enabled us to understand the macro in terms of the micro, and that ultimately
aimed at a unity of science. Kuhn maintains that this view is incompatible with
what actually happens in case after case in the history of science. Scientific
change occurs by “revolutions” in which an older paradigm is overthrown and is
replaced by a framework incompatible or even incommensurate with it. Thus the
alleged empirical “facts,” which were adduced to support the older theory,
become irrelevant to the new; the questions asked and answered in the new
framework cut across those of the old; indeed the vocabularies of the two
frameworks make up different languages, not easily intertranslatable. These
episodes of revolution are separated by long periods of “normal science,”
during which the theories of a given paradigm are honed, refined, and
elaborated. These periods are sometimes referred to as periods of “puzzle
solving,” because the changes are to be understood more as fiddling with the
details of the theories to “save the phenomena” than as steps taking us closer
to the truth. A number of philosophers have complained that Kuhn’s conception
of a paradigm is too imprecise to do the work he intended for it. In fact,
Kuhn, fifteen years later, admitted that at least two distinct ideas were
exploited by the term: i the “shared elements [that] account for the relatively
unproblematic character of professional communication and for the relative unanimity
of professional judgment,” and ii “concrete problem solutions, accepted by the
group [of scientists] as, in a quite usual sense, paradigmatic” Kuhn, “Second
Thoughts on Paradigms,” 7. Kuhn offers the terms ‘disciplinary matrix’ and
‘exemplar’, respectively, for these two ideas. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Why Kuhn
could never explain the ‘minor revolution’ in philosophy we had at Oxford!; H.
P. Grice, “The Griceian paradigm – crisis – revolution – resolution: some
implicatura from Kuhn (from Merton to St. John’s).”
paradigm-case
argument:
an argument designed by A. G. N. Flew, Grice’s first tutee at St. John’s –
almost -- to yield an affirmative answer to the following general type of
skeptically motivated question: Are A’s really B? E.g., Do material objects
really exist? Are any of our actions really free? Does induction really provide
reasonable grounds for one’s beliefs? The structure of the argument is simple:
in situations that are “typical,” “exemplary,” or “paradigmatic,” standards for
which are supplied by common sense, or ordinary language, part of what it is to
be B essentially involves A. Hence it is absurd to doubt if A’s are ever B, or
to doubt if in general A’s are B. More commonly, the argument is encountered in
the linguistic mode: part of what it means for something to be B is that, in
paradigm cases, it be an A. Hence the question whether A’s are ever B is
meaningless. An example may be found in the application of the argument to the
problem of induction. See Strawson, Introduction to Logical Theory, 2. When one
believes a generalization of the form ‘All F’s are G’ on the basis of good
inductive evidence, i.e., evidence constituted by innumerable and varied
instances of F all of which are G, one would thereby have good reasons for
holding this belief. The argument for this claim is based on the content of the
concepts of reasonableness and of strength of evidence. Thus according to
Strawson, the following two propositions are analytic: 1 It is reasonable to
have a degree of belief in a proposition that is proportional to the strength
of the evidence in its favor. 2 The evidence for a generalization is strong in
proportion as the number of instances, and the variety of circumstances in
which they have been found, is great. Hence, Strawson concludes, “to ask
whether it is reasonable to place reliance on inductive procedures is like
asking whether it is reasonable to proportion the degree of one’s convictions
to the strength of the evidence. Doing this is what ‘being reasonable’ means in
such a context” p. 257. In such arguments the role played by the appeal to
paradigm cases is crucial. In Strawson’s version, paradigm cases are
constituted by “innumerable and varied instances.” Without such an appeal the
argument would fail completely, for it is clear that not all uses of induction
are reasonable. Even when this appeal is made clear though, the argument
remains questionable, for it fails to confront adequately the force of the word
‘really’ in the skeptical challenges. paradigm case argument paradigm case
argument. H. P. Grice, “Paradigm-case arguments in Urmson and other play group
members,” H. P. Grice, “A. G. N. Flew and how I taught him the paradigm-case
argument for free-will.”
H.
P. Grice’s para-doxon -- παράδοξον, Liddell and
Scott render it as “contrary to expectation [doxa, belief], incredible,
[unbelievable]” – πaradoxos λόγος they render, unhelpfully, as “a paradox,” Pl.R.472a;
“πaradoxos τε καὶ ψεῦδος” – the paradoxical and the false -- Id.Plt.281a;
“παράδοξα λέγειν” – to utter a paradox -- X.Cyr.7.2.16; “ἂν παράδοξον εἴπω” D.3.10; ἐκ
τοῦ παραδόξου καὶ παραλόγου – Liddell and Scott render as “contrary to all
expectation,” contrary to all belief and dicta! -- ἐκ τοῦ παρα-δόξου καὶ
παρα-λόγου – cf. Kant’s paralogism -- -- -- Id.25.32, cf. Phld.Vit.p.23 J.; “πολλὰ
ποικίλλει χρόνος πaradoxa καὶ θαυμαστά” Men.593; “πaradoxon μοι τὸ πρᾶγμα”
Thphr.Char.1.6; “τὸ ἔνδοξον ἐκ τοῦ πaradoxon θηρώμενος” Plu.Pomp.14; παράδοξα
Stoical paradoxes, Id.2.1060b sq.: Comp., Phld.Mus.p.72 K., Plot.4.9.2: Sup.,
LXX Wi.16.17. Adv. “-ξως” Aeschin.2.40, Plb.1.21.11, Dsc.4.83: Sup. “-ότατα”
D.C.67.11; “-οτάτως” Gal.7.876. II. παράδοξος, title of distinguished athletes,
musicians, and artists of all kinds, the Admirable, IG3.1442, 14.916, Arr.Epict.2.18.22,
IGRom.4.468 (Pergam., iii A. D.), PHamb.21.3 (iv A. D.), Rev.Ét.Gr.42.434
(Delph.), etc. For Grice, ‘unbelievable’ as opposed to ‘unthinkable’ or
‘unintelligible’ is the paradigm-case response for a non-analytically false
utterance. “Paradoxical, but true.”
para-doxon:
a seemingly sound piece of reasoning based on seemingly true assumptions that
leads to a contradiction or other obviously false conclusion. A paradox reveals
that either the principles of reasoning or the assumptions on which it is based
are faulty. It is said to be solved when the mistaken principles or assumptions
are clearly identified and rejected. The philosophical interest in paradoxes
arises from the fact that they sometimes reveal fundamentally mistaken
assumptions or erroneous reasoning techniques. Two groups of paradoxes have
received a great deal of attention in modern philosophy. Known as the semantic
paradoxes and the logical or settheoretic paradoxes, they reveal serious
difficulties in our intuitive understanding of the basic notions of semantics
and set theory. Other well-known paradoxes include the barber paradox and the
prediction or hangman or unexpected examination paradox. The barber paradox is
mainly useful as an example of a paradox that is easily resolved. Suppose we
are told that there is an Oxford barber who shaves all and only the Oxford men
who do not shave themselves. Using this description, we can apparently derive
the contradiction that this barber both shaves and does not shave himself. If
he does not shave himself, then according to the description he must be one of
the people he shaves; if he does shave himself, then according to the
description he is one of the people he does not shave. This paradox can be
resolved in two ways. First, the original claim that such a barber exists can
simply be rejected: perhaps no one satisfies the alleged description. Second,
the described barber may exist, but not fall into the class of Oxford men: a
woman barber, e.g., could shave all and only the Oxford men who do not shave
themselves. The prediction paradox takes a variety of forms. Suppose a teacher
tells her students on Friday that the following week she will give a single
quiz. But it will be a surprise: the students will not know the evening before
that the quiz will take place the following day. They reason that she cannot
give such a quiz. After all, she cannot wait until Friday to give it, since
then they would know Thursday evening. That leaves Monday through Thursday as
the only possible days for it. But then Thursday can be ruled out for the same
reason: they would know on Wednesday evening. Wednesday, Tuesday, and Monday
can be ruled out by similar reasoning. Convinced by this seemingly correct
reasoning, the students do not study for the quiz. On Wednesday morning, they
are taken by surprise when the teacher distributes it. It has been pointed out
that the students’ reasoning has this peculiar feature: in order to rule out
any of the days, they must assume that the quiz will be given and that it will
be a surprise. But their alleged conclusion is that it cannot be given or else
will not be a surprise, undermining that very assumption. Kaplan and Montague
have argued in “A Paradox Regained,” Notre Dame Journal of Formal Logic, 0 that
at the core of this puzzle is what they call the knower paradox a paradox that arises when intuitively
plausible principles about knowledge and its relation to logical consequence
are used in conjunction with knowledge claims whose content is, or entails, a
denial of those very claims. Paradoxa A philosophical treatise of Cicero setting forth
six striking theorems of the Stoic system. It was composed in B.C. 46. Edited
by Orelli (with the Tusculans) (Zürich, 1829); and by Möser (Göttingen, 1846).
The three modals: Grice: “We
have, in all, then, three varieties of acceptability statement (each with
alethic and practical sub-types), associated with the modals "It is fully
acceptable that . . . " (non-defeasible), 'it is ceteris paribus
acceptable that . . . ', and 'it is to such-and-such a degree acceptable that .
. . ', both of the latter pair being subject to defeasibility. (I should
re-emphasize that, on the practical side, I am so far concerned to represent
only statements which are analogous with Kant's Technical Imperatives ('Rules
of Skill').) I am now visited by a
temptation, to which of course I shall yield, to link these varieties of
acceptability statement with common modals; however, to preserve a façade of
dignity I shall mark the modals I thus define with a star, to indicate that the
modals so defined are only candidates for identification with the common modals
spelled in the same way. I am tempted to introduce 'it must* be that' as a
modal whose sense is that of 'It is fully acceptable that' and 'it ought* to be
that' as a modal whose sense is that of 'It is ceteris paribus (other things
being equal) acceptable that'; for degree-variant acceptability I can think of
no appealing vernacular counterpart other than 'acceptable' itself. After such
introduction, we could allow the starred modals to become idiomatically
embedded in the sentences in which they occur; as in "A bishop must* get
fed up with politicians", and in "To keep his job, a bishop ought*
not to show his irritation with politicians". end p.78 But I now confess
that I am tempted to plunge even further into conceptual debauchery than I have
already; having just, at considerable pains, got what might turn out to be
common modals into my structures, I am at once inclined to get them out again.
For it seems to me that one might be able, without change of sense, to employ
forms of sentence which eliminate reference to acceptability, and so do not
need the starred modals. One might be able, to this end, to exploit
"if-then" conditionals (NB 'if . . . then', not just 'if') together
with suitable modifiers. One might, for example, be able to re-express "A
bishop must* get fed up with politicians" as "If one is a bishop,
then (unreservedly) one will get fed up with the politicians"; and
"To keep his job, a bishop ought* not to show his irritation with
politicians" as "If one is to keep one's job and if one is a bishop,
then, other things being equal, one is not to show one's irritation with
politicians". Of course, when it comes to applying detachment to
corresponding singular conditionals, we may need to have some way of indicating
the character of the generalization from which the detached singular
non-conditional sentence has been derived; the devising of such indices should
not be beyond the wit of man. So far as generalizations of these kinds are
concerned, it seems to me that one needs to be able to mark five features: (1)
conditionality; (2) generality; (3) type of generality (absolute, ceteris
paribus, etc., thereby, ipso facto, discriminating with respect to
defeasibility or indefeasibility); (4) mode; (5) (not so far mentioned) whether
or not the generalization in question has or has not been derived from a simple
enumeration of instances; because of their differences with respect to
direction of fit, any such index will do real work in the case of alethic
generalities, not in the case of practical generalities. So long as these
features are marked, we have all we need for our purposes. Furthermore, they
are all (in some legitimate and intelligible sense) formal features, and indeed
features which might be regarded as, in some sense, 'contained in' or 'required
by' the end p.79 concept of a rational being, since it would hardly be possible
to engage in any kind of reasoning without being familiar with them. So, on the
assumption that the starred modals are identifiable with their unstarred
counterparts, we would seem to have reached the following positions. (1) We
have represented practical and alethic generalizations, and their associated
conditionals, and with them certain common modals such as 'must' and 'ought',
under a single notion of acceptability (with specific variants). (2) We have
decomposed acceptability itself into formal features. (3) We have removed
mystery from the alleged logical fact that acceptable practical 'ought' statements
have to be derivable from an underlying generalization. (4) Though these
achievements (if such they be) might indeed not settle the 'univocality'
questions, they can hardly be irrelevant to them. I suspect that, if we were to
telephone the illustrious Kant at his Elysian country club in order to impart
to him this latest titbit of philosophical gossip, we might get the reply,
"Big deal! Isn't that what I've been telling you all along?"
paradoxes
of omnipotence – Grice: “a favourite with the second Wilde.” – Grice means
first Wilde, reader in philosophical psychology, second Wilde, reader in
natural religion -- a series of paradoxes in philosophical theology that
maintain that God could not be omnipotent because the concept is inconsistent,
alleged to result from the intuitive idea that if God is omnipotent, then God
must be able to do anything. 1 Can God perform logically contradictory tasks?
If God can, then God should be able to make himself simultaneously omnipotent
and not omnipotent, which is absurd. If God cannot, then it appears that there
is something God cannot do. Many philosophers have sought to avoid this
consequence by claiming that the notion of performing a logically contradictory
task is empty, and that question 1 specifies no task that God can perform or
fail to perform. 2 Can God cease to be omnipotent? If God can and were to do
so, then at any time thereafter, God would no longer be completely sovereign
over all things. If God cannot, then God cannot do something that others can
do, namely, impose limitations on one’s own powers. A popular response to
question 2 is to say that omnipotence is an essential attribute of a
necessarily existing being. According to this response, although God cannot
cease to be omnipotent any more than God can cease to exist, these features are
not liabilities but rather the lack of liabilities in God. 3 Can God create another
being who is omnipotent? Is it logically possible for two beings to be
omnipotent? It might seem that there could be, if they never disagreed in fact
with each other. If, however, omnipotence requires control over all possible
but counterfactual situations, there could be two omnipotent beings only if it
were impossible for them to disagree. 4 Can God create a stone too heavy for
God to move? If God can, then there is something that God cannot do move such a stone and if God cannot, then there is something
God cannot do create such a stone. One
reply is to maintain that ‘God cannot create a stone too heavy for God to move’
is a harmless consequence of ‘God can create stones of any weight and God can
move stones of any weight.’ paradox of analysis:
Grice: “One (not I, mind – I don’t take anything seriously) must take the
paradox of analysis very seriously.” an argument that it is impossible for an
analysis of a meaning to be informative for one who already understands the
meaning. Consider: ‘An F is a G’ e.g., ‘A circle is a line all points on which
are equidistant from some one point’ gives a correct analysis of the meaning of
‘F’ only if ‘G’ means the same as ‘F’; but then anyone who already understands
both meanings must already know what the sentence says. Indeed, that will be
the same as what the trivial ‘An F is an F’ says, since replacing one
expression by another with the same meaning should preserve what the sentence
says. The conclusion that ‘An F is a G’ cannot be informative for one who already
understands all its terms is paradoxical only for cases where ‘G’ is not only
synonymous with but more complex than ‘F’, in such a way as to give an analysis
of ‘F’. ‘A first cousin is an offspring of a parent’s sibling’ gives an
analysis, but ‘A dad is a father’ does not and in fact could not be informative
for one who already knows the meaning of all its words. The paradox appears to
fail to distinguish between different sorts of knowledge. Encountering for the
first time and understanding a correct analysis of a meaning one already grasps
brings one from merely tacit to explicit knowledge of its truth. One sees that
it does capture the meaning and thereby sees a way of articulating the meaning one
had not thought of before. Refs.: H. P. Grice: “Dissolving the paradox of
analysis via the principle of conversational helpfulness – How helpful is
‘unmarried male’ as an analysis of ‘bachelor’?”
paradox
of omniscience: Grice: “A favourite with the second Wilde,” i. e. the Wilde
reader in natural religion, as opposed to the Wilde reader in philosophical
psychology -- an objection to the possibility of omniscience, developed by
Patrick Grim, that appeals to an application of Cantor’s power set theorem.
Omniscience requires knowing all truths; according to Grim, that means knowing
every truth in the set of all truths. But there is no set of all truths.
Suppose that there were a set T of all truths. Consider all the subsets of T,
that is, all members of the power set 3T. Take some truth T1. For each member of
3T either T1 is a member of that set or T1 is not a member of that set. There
will thus correspond to each member of 3T a further truth specifying whether T1
is or is not a member of that set. Therefore there are at least as many truths
as there are members of 3T. By the power set theorem, there are more members of
3T than there are of T. So T is not the set of all truths. By a parallel
argument, no other set is, either. So there is no set of all truths, after all,
and therefore no one who knows every member of that set. The objection may be
countered by denying that the claim ‘for every proposition p, if p is true God
knows that p’ requires that there be a set of all true propositions.
paraphilosophy:
“I phoned Gellner: you chould entitle your essay, an attack on ordinary
language PARA-philosophy, since that is what Austin asks us to do.”
Paraphilosophy:
“Something Austin loved, and I not so much.” – Grice.
para-psychology, the study of certain
anomalous phenomena and ostensible causal connections neither recognized nor
clearly rejected by traditional science. Parapsychology’s principal areas of
investigation are extrasensory perception ESP, psychokinesis PK, and cases
suggesting the survival of mental functioning following bodily death. The study
of ESP has traditionally focused on two sorts of ostensible phenomena,
telepathy the apparent anomalous influence of one person’s mental states on
those of another, commonly identified with apparent communication between two
minds by extrasensory means and clairvoyance the apparent anomalous influence
of a physical state of affairs on a person’s mental states, commonly identified
with the supposed ability to perceive or know of objects or events not present
to the senses. The forms of ESP may be viewed either as types of cognition
e.g., the anomalous knowledge of another person’s mental states or as merely a
form of anomalous causal influence e.g., a distant burning house causing one to
have possibly incongruous thoughts about fire. The study of PK covers the
apparent ability to produce various physical effects independently of familiar
or recognized intermediate sorts of causal links. These effects include the
ostensible movement of remote objects, materializations the apparently
instantaneous production of matter, apports the apparently instantaneous
relocation of an object, and in laboratory experiments statistically
significant non-random behavior of normally random microscopic processes such
as radioactive decay. Survival research focuses on cases of ostensible
reincarnation and mental mediumship i.e., “channeling” of information from an
apparently deceased communicator. Cases of ostensible precognition may be
viewed as types of telepathy and clairvoyance, and suggest the causal influence
of some state of affairs on an earlier event an agent’s ostensible precognitive
experience. However, those opposed to backward causation may interpret
ostensible precognition either as a form of unconscious inference based on
contemporaneous information acquired by ESP, or else as a form of PK possibly
in conjunction with telepathic influence by which the precognizer brings about
the events apparently precognized. The data of parapsychology raise two
particularly deep issues. The evidence suggesting survival poses a direct
challenge to materialist theories of the mental. And the evidence for ESP and
PK suggests the viability of a “magical” worldview associated usually with
so-called primitive societies, according to which we have direct and intimate
access to and influence on the thoughts and bodily states of others. H. P. Grice: "When, in the late 1940s, J. L. Austin
instituted his *second* playgroup, for full-time philosophy dons -- my *first*,
in a way --, its official rationale, given by its founder, was that all its members
were hacks, spending our weekdays wrestling with the dissolution of this or
that philosophical pseudo-problem, and that we deserved to be spending our
Saturday mornings -- my Saturday afternoons were consacrated to the Demi-Johns
-- in restorative para-philosophy. And so we started on such topics as
maps and diagrams and (in another term) rules of games." Refs.: H. P. Grice, “What J. L Austin
meant by ‘paraphilosophy’!,” H. P. Grice, “Philosophy and para-philosophy.”
Pareto: one of the most important Italian
philosophers. Pareto’s efficiency, also called Pareto optimality, a state of
affairs in which no one can be made better off without making someone worse
off. “If you are provided information, the one who gives you information
loses.” “If you give information, you lose.” “If you influence, you win.” “If
you get influenced,” you lose.” The
economist Vilfredo Pareto referred to ‘optimality,’ as used by Grice,
rather than efficiency, but usage has drifted toward the less normative term,
‘efficiency.’ Pareto supposes that the utilitarian addition of welfare across
conversationalist A and conversationalist B is meaningless. Pareto concludes
that the only useful aggregate measures of welfare must be ordinal. One state
of affairs is what Pareto calls “Pareto-superior” to another if
conversationalist A cannot move to the second state without making his
co-conversationalist B worse off. Although Pareto’s criterion is generally
thought to be positive or descriptive (‘empiricist’) rather than normative
(‘quasi-contractual, or rational’), it is often used as a normative principles
for justifying particular changes or refusals to make changes. Some
philosophers, such as Grice’s tutee Nozick, for example, take the Pareto
criterion as a moral constraint and therefore oppose certain government
policies. In the context of a voluntary exchange, it makes sense to suppose that
every exchange is “Pareto-improving,” at least for the direct parties to the
exchange, conversationalists A and B. If, however, we fail to account for any
external effect of A’s and B’s conversational exchange on a third party, the
conversational exchange may *not* be Pareto-improving (Grice’s example, “Mrs.
Smith is a bag.”. Moreover, we may fail to provide collective, or intersubjective
benefits that require the co-operation or co-ordination of A’s and B’s
individual efforts (A may be more ready to volunteer than B, say). Hence, even
in a conversational exchange, we cannot expect to achieve “Pareto efficiency,”
but what Grice calls “Grice efficiency.” We might therefore suppose we should
invite thet intervention of the voice of reason to help us helping each other.
But in a typical conversational context, it is often hard to believe that a
significant policy change can be Pareto-improving: there are sure to be losers
from any change – “but the it’s gentlemanly to accept a loss.” – H. P. Grice.
Refs.: “Conversational efficiency and conversational optimality: Pareto and I;”
Luigi Speranza, "Grice e Pareto," per
il Club Anglo-Italiano, The Swimming-Pool Library, Villa Grice, Liguria,
Italia.
Griceian-cum-Parfitian identity: “Parfait
identity” – Grice: “Oddly, the Strawsons enjoy to involve themselves with
issues of identity.” Parfit cites H. P. Grice on “Personal identity,” philosopher
internationally known for his major contributions to the metaphysics of
persons, moral theory, and practical reasoning. Parfit first rose to prominence
by challenging the prevalent view that personal identity is a “deep fact” that
must be all or nothing and that matters greatly in rational and moral
deliberations. Exploring puzzle cases involving fission and fusion, Parfit
propounded a reductionist account of personal identity, arguing that what
matters in survival are physical and psychological continuities. These are a
matter of degree, and sometimes there may be no answer as to whether some
future person would be me. Parfit’s magnum opus, Reasons and Persons 4, is a
strikingly original book brimming with startling conclusions that have
significantly reshaped the philosophical agenda. Part One treats different
theories of morality, rationality, and the good; blameless wrongdoing; moral
immorality; rational irrationality; imperceptible harms and benefits; harmless
torturers; and the self-defeatingness of certain theories. Part Two introduces
a critical present-aim theory of individual rationality, and attacks the
standard selfinterest theory. It also discusses the rationality of different
attitudes to time, such as caring more about the future than the past, and more
about the near than the remote. Addressing the age-old conflict between
self-interest and morality, Parfit illustrates that contrary to what the
self-interest theory demands, it can be rational to care about certain other
aims as much as, or more than, about our own future well-being. In addition,
Parfit notes that the self-interest theory is a hybrid position, neutral with
respect to time but partial with respect to persons. Thus, it can be challenged
from one direction by morality, which is neutral with respect to both persons
and time, and from the other by a present-aim theory, which is partial with
respect to both persons and time. Part Three refines Parfit’s views regarding
personal identity and further criticizes the self-interest theory: personal
identity is not what matters, hence reasons to be specially concerned about our
future are not provided by the fact that it will be our future. Part Four
presents puzzles regarding future generations and argues that the moral
principles we need when considering future people must take an impersonal form.
Parfit’s arguments deeply challenge our understanding of moral ideals and, some
believe, the possibility of comparing outcomes. Parfit has three forthcoming
manuscripts, tentatively titled Rediscovering Reasons, The Metaphysics of the
Self, and On What Matters. His current focus is the normativity of reasons. A
reductionist about persons, he is a non-reductionist about reasons. He believes
in irreducibily normative beliefs that are in a strong sense true. A realist
about reasons for acting and caring, he challenges the views of naturalists,
noncognitivists, and constructivists. Parfit contends that internalists
conflate normativity with motivating force, that contrary to the prevalent view
that all reasons are provided by desires, no reasons are, and that Kant poses a
greater threat to rationalism than Hume. Parfit is Senior Research Fellow of
All Souls , Oxford, and a regular visiting professor at both Harvard and New
York . Legendary for monograph-length criticisms of book manuscripts, he is
editor of the Oxford Ethics Series, whose goal is to make definite moral
progress, a goal Parfit himself is widely believed to have attained. Refs.: H.
P. Grice, “A parfit identity.”
Parmenide: “One of the most important
Italian philosophers, if only because Plato dedicated a dialogue to him!” –
Grice. a Grecian philosopher, the most influential of the pre-socratics, active
in Elea Roman and modern Velia, an Ionian Grecian colony in southern Italy. He
was the first Grecian thinker who can properly be called an ontologist or
metaphysician. Plato refers to him as “venerable and awesome,” as “having
magnificent depth” Theaetetus 183e 184a, and presents him in the dialogue
Parmenides as a searching critic in a
fictional and dialectical transposition
of Plato’s own theory of Forms. Nearly 150 lines of a didactic poem by
Parmenides have been preserved, assembled into about twenty fragments. The
first part, “Truth,” provides the earliest specimen in Grecian intellectual
history of a sustained deductive argument. Drawing on intuitions concerning
thinking, knowing, and language, Parmenides argues that “the real” or “what-is”
or “being” to eon must be ungenerable and imperishable, indivisible, and
unchanging. According to a Plato-inspired tradition, Parmenides held that “all
is one.” But the phrase does not occur in the fragments; Parmenides does not
even speak of “the One”; and it is possible that either a holistic One or a
plurality of absolute monads might conform to Parmenides’ deduction.
Nonetheless, it is difficult to resist the impression that the argument
converges on a unique entity, which may indifferently be referred to as Being,
or the All, or the One. Parmenides embraces fully the paradoxical consequence
that the world of ordinary experience fails to qualify as “what-is.”
Nonetheless, in “Opinions,” the second part of the poem, he expounds a dualist
cosmology. It is unclear whether this is intended as candid phenomenology a doctrine of appearances or as an ironic foil to “Truth.” It is
noteworthy that Parmenides was probably a physician by profession. Ancient
reports to this effect are borne out by fragments from “Opinions” with
embryological themes, as well as by archaeological findings at Velia that link
the memory of Parmenides with Romanperiod remains of a medical school at that
site. Parmenides’ own attitude notwithstanding, “Opinions” recorded four major
scientific breakthroughs, some of which, doubtless, were Parmenides’ own
discoveries: that the earth is a sphere; that the two tropics and the Arctic
and Antarctic circles divide the earth into five zones; that the moon gets its
light from the sun; and that the morning star and the evening star are the same
planet. The term Eleatic School is misleading when it is used to suggest a
common doctrine supposedly held by Parmenides, Zeno of Elea, Melissus of Samos,
and anticipating Parmenides Xenophanes of Colophon. The fact is, many
philosophical groups and movements, from the middle of the fifth century
onward, were influenced, in different ways, by Parmenides, including the
“pluralists,” Empedocles, Anaxagoras, and Democritus. Parmenides’ deductions,
transformed by Zeno into a repertoire of full-blown paradoxes, provided the
model both for the eristic of the Sophists and for Socrates’ elenchus.
Moreover, the Parmenidean criteria for “whatis” lie unmistakably in the
background not only of Plato’s theory of Forms but also of salient features of
Aristotle’s system, notably, the priority of actuality over potentiality, the
unmoved mover, and the man-begets-man principle. Indeed, all philosophical and
scientific systems that posit principles of conservation of substance, of
matter, of matter-energy are inalienably the heirs to Parmenides’ deduction. Refs.:
H. P. Grice, “Negation and privation,” “Lectures on negation,” Wiggins, “Grice
and Parmenides;” Luigi Speranza, "Grice e Parmenide," per il Club
Anglo-Italiano, The Swimming-Pool Library, Villa Grice, Liguria, Italia.
parsing: the process of determining the
syntactic (strictly para-tactic) structure of a sentence according to the theorems
of a given system, say Gricese – or System G.This is to be distinguished from
the generally simpler task of recognition, which is merely the determination of
whether or not a given string is well-formed grammatical. In general, many
different parsing strategies can be employed for grammars of a particular type,
and a great deal of attention has been given to the relative efficiencies of
these techniques. The most thoroughly studied cases center on the contextfree
phrase structure grammars, which assign syntactic structures in the form of
singly-rooted trees with a left-to-right ordering of “sister” nodes. Parsing
procedures can then be broadly classified according to the sequence of steps by
which the parse tree is constructed: top-down versus bottom-up; depth-first
versus breadthfirst; etc. In addition, there are various strategies for
exploring alternatives agendas, backtracking, parallel processing and there are
devices such as “charts” that eliminate needless repetitions of previous steps.
Efficient parsing is of course important when language, whether natural or
artificial e.g., a programming language, is being processed by computer. Human
beings also parse rapidly and with apparently little effort when they
comprehend sentences of a natural language. Although little is known about the
details of this process, psycholinguists hope that study of mechanical parsing
techniques might provide insights. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Parsing in Gricese.”
partition: Grice: “the division of a set
into mutually exclusive and jointly exhaustive subsets (e. g., ‘philosopher’
and ‘non-philosopher’ – whether we define ‘philosopher’ as engaged in
philosophical exploration,’ or ‘addicted to general reflections about his
life.’ -- Derivatively, ‘partition’ can mean any set P whose members are
mutually exclusive and jointly exhaustive subsets of set S. Each subset of a
partition P is called a partition class of S with respect to P. Partitions are
intimately associated with equivalence relations, i.e. with relations that are
transitive, symmetric, and reflexive. Given an equivalence relation R defined
on a set S, R induces a partition P of S in the following natural way: members
s1 and s2 belong to the same partition class of P if and only if s1 has the
relation R to s2. Conversely, given a partition P of a set S, P induces an
equivalence relation R defined on S in the following natural way: members s1
and s2 are such that s1 has the relation R to s2 if and only if s1 and s2
belong to the same partition class of P. For obvious reasons, then, partition
classes are also known as equivalence classes. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “My love for
Venn.”
pascal: cited by H. P. Grice, philosopher
known for his brilliance as a polemicist and a stylist. Born at Clermont-Ferrand
in the Auvergne, Pascal is educated by his father, Étienne, and first gains
note for his contribution to semantics when he produced, under the influence of
Desargues, a work on the projective geometry of one cone. This was published as
“Essai pour les coniques,” and includes what has since become known as Pascal’s
theorem. Pascal’s other semantical accomplishments include the original
development of probability theory, worked out in correspondence with Fermat,
and a method of infinitesimal analysis to which Leibniz gave credit for
inspiring his own development of the calculus. Pascal’s fame rests on his work
on hydrostatics, “Traités de l’équilibre des liqueurs et de la pesanteur de la
masse de l’air,” and his experiments with the barometer, which attempted to
establish the possibility of a vacuum and the weight of air as the cause of the
mercury’s suspension. Pascal’s fame as a stylist rests primarily on his “Lettres
provinciales,” which were an anonymous contribution to a dispute between the
Jansenists, headed by Arnauld, and the Jesuits. Jansenism was a Catholic
religious movement that emphasized an Augustinian position on questions of
grace and free will. Pascal, who was not himself a Jansenist, wrote a series of
scathing satirical letters ridiculing both Jesuit casuistry and the persecution
of the Jansenists for their purported adherence to five propositions in
Jansen’s Augustinus. Pascal’s philosophical contributions are found throughout
his oeuvre, but primarily in his “Pensées,” an intended apology for
Christianity. The influence of the Pensées on religious thought and later
existentialism has been profound because of their extraordinary insight,
passion, and depth. At the time of Pascal’s death some of the fragments were
sewn together in clusters; many others were left unorganized, but recent
scholarship has recovered much of the original plan of organization. Pascal’s “Pensées”
raise sceptical arguments that had become part of philosophical parlance since
Montaigne. While these arguments were originally raised in order to deny the
possibility of knowledge, Pascal, like Descartes in the Meditations, tries to
utilize them toward a positive end. Pascal argues that what scepticism shows us
is not that knowledge is impossible, but that there is a certain paradox about
human nature. Humans possess knowledge yet recognize that this knowledge cannot
be rationally justified and that rational arguments can even be directed against
it (fragments 109, 131, and 110). This peculiarity can be explained only
through the Christian doctrine of the fall (e.g., fragment 117). Pascal extends
his sceptical considerations by undermining the possibility of demonstrative
proof of God’s existence. Such knowledge is impossible on philosophical grounds
because such a proof could be successful only if an absurdity followed from
denying God’s existence, and nature furnishes us with no knowledge incompatible
with unbelief (fragments 429 and 781). Furthermore, demonstrative proof of
God’s existence is incompatible with the epistemological claims of
Christianity, which make God’s personal agency essential to religious knowledge
(fragments 460, 449). Pascal’s use of skepticism and his refusal to admit
proofs of God’s existence have led some commentators, like Richard Popkin
“Fideism,” and Terence Penelhum “Skepticism and Fideism,” to interpret Pascal
as a fideist, i.e., one who denies that religious belief can be based on
anything other than pragmatic reasons. But such an interpretation disregards
Pascal’s attempts to show that Christian belief is rational because of the
explanatory power of its doctrines, particularly its doctrine of the fall (e.g.,
fragments 131, 137, 149, 431, 449, and 482)/ These purported demonstrations of
the explanatory superiority of Christianity prepare the way for Pascal’s famous
“wager” (fragment 418). The wager is among the fragments that Pascal had not
classified at the time of his death, but textual evidence shows that it would
have been included in Section 12, entitled “Commencement,” after the
demonstrations of the superior explanatory power of Christianity. The wager is
a direct application of the principles developed in Pascal’s earlier work on
probability, where he discovered a calculus that could be used to determine the
most rational action when faced with uncertainty about future events, or what is
now known as decision theory. In this case the uncertainty is the truth of
Christianity and its claims about afterlife; and the actions under
consideration are whether to believe or not. The choice of the most rational
action depends on what would now be called its “expected value.” The expected
value of an action is determined by assigning a value, s, to each possible
outcome of the action, and subtracting the cost of the action, c, from this
value, and multiplying the difference by the probability of the respective
outcomes and adding these products together. Pascal invites the reader to
consider Christian faith and unbelief as if they were acts of wagering on the
truth of Christianity. If one does believes, there are two possible outcomes:
It is the case that God exists or it is not the case that God exists. If it is
the case that God exists, the stake to be gained is infinite life. If it is not
the case that God exists, there are no winnings. Because the potential winnings
are infinite, religious belief is more rational than unbelief because of its
greater expected value. The wager has been subjected to numerous criticisms.
William James argues that it is indecisive, because it would apply with equal
validity to any religion that offers a promise of infinite rewards (The Will to
Believe). But this ignores Pascal’s careful attempt to show that only
Christianity has adequate explanatory power, so that the choice is intended to
be between Christianity and unbelief. A stronger objection to the wager arises
from contemporary work in decision theory that prohibits the introduction of an
‘infinite value’ because they have the counter-intuitive result of making even
the slightest risk irrational. While this objection is valid, it does not
refute Pascal’s strategy in the Pensées, in which the proofs of Christianity’s
explanatory power and the wager have only the preliminary role of inducing the
reader to seek the religious certainty that comes only from a saving religious
experience which he calls “inspiration” fragments 110, 381, 382, 588, 808. Consider two
conversations -- one of which begins by someone (X) making the claim: (i)
"My neighbor's three-year-old child understands Russell's Theory of
Types," and the other of which begins by someone (Y) making the claim:
(I') "My neighbor's three-year-old child is an adult." It would not
be inappropriate to reply to X, taking the remark as a hyperbole: (2) "You
mean the child is a particularly bright lad." If X were to say: (3)
"No, I mean what I say-he really does understand it," one might be
inclined to reply: (4) "I don't believe you-the thing's impossible."
But if the child were then produced, and did (as one knows he would not)
expound the theory correctly, answer questions on it, criticize it, and so on,
one would in the end be forced to acknowledge that the claim was literally true
and that the child was a prodigy. Now consider one's reaction to Y's claim. To
begin with, it might be somewhat similar to the previous case. One might say:
(2') "You mean he's uncommonly sensible or very advanced for his
age." If Y replies: (3') "No, I mean what I say," we might
reply: (4') "Perhaps you mean that he won't grow any more, or that he's a
sort of freak, that he's already fully developed." Y replies: (5')
"No, he's not a freak, he's just an adult." At this stage -- or
possibly if we are patient, a little later -- we shall be inclined to say that
I just do not understand what Y is saying, and to suspect that he just does not
know the ‘meaning’ of some of the words he is using – even th copula. For
unless he is prepared to admit that he is using words in a figurative or
unusual way, I shall say, not that I do not ‘believe’ him, but that I do not
‘understand’ what he means – if anything at all – He is being ‘absurd.’. And
whatever kind of creature is ultimately produced for my inspection – ‘this
adult three-year old’, it will not lead me to say that what Y explicitly
conveys is true, but at most to say that I now see what he communicates or
means, notably, that the three-year-old child is an adult. As a summary of the
difference between the two imaginary conversations, I may say that in both
cases I would tend to begin by supposing that my co-conversationalist is using
words in a figurative or unusual or restricted way. But in the face of his
repeated claim to not be doing so, it would be appropriate, in the first case,
of a synthetic falsehood, to say that I do not believe him, and in the second
case, of the absurdity or categorial falsity, to say that I do not understand
him. (Mrs. Grice: “You’re the cream in my coffee” – Grice: “I do not understand
you.” -- If, like Pascal, one thinks it prudent to prepare against a very long
chance, I should, in the first case, of the synthetic falsehood, know what to
prepare for. In the second, I should have no idea.” Refs.: H. P. Grice,
“Pascal.”
paternalism, interference with the liberty
or autonomy of another person, with justifications referring to the promotion
of the person’s good or the prevention of harm to the person. More precisely, A
acts paternalistically toward B iff A is B’s father or P acts with the intent
of averting some harm or promoting some benefit for Q; and P acts contrary to
or is indifferent to the current preferences, desires or values of his ‘son;’
and P’s act is a limitation on his ‘son’ autonomy or liberty. The presence of
both autonomy and liberty in the lasst clause is to allow for the fact that
lying to someone is not clearly an interference with liberty. Notice that one
can act ‘paternalistically’ by telling people the truth as when a doctor
insists that a patient know the exact nature of her illness, contrary to her
wishes. Note also that the definition does not settle any questions about the
legitimacy or illegitimacy of paternalistic interventions. Typical examples of
paternalistic actions are laws requiring motorcyclists to wear helmets; court
orders allowing physicians to transfuse Jehovah’s Witnesses against their
wishes; deception of a patient by physicians to avoid upsetting the patient; civil
commitment of persons judged dangerous to themselves; and laws forbidding
swimming while lifeguards are not on duty. Soft weak paternalism is the view
that paternalism is justified only when a ‘father’ is acting non-voluntarily or
one needs time to determine whether his ‘son’ is acting voluntarily or not.
Hard strong paternalism is the view that paternalism is sometimes justified
even when the person being interfered with is acting voluntarily. The analysis
of the term is relative to some set of problems. If one were interested in the
organizational behavior of large corporations, one might adopt a different
definition than if one were concerned with limits on the state’s right to
exercise coercion. The typical normative problems about paternalistic action
are whether, and to what extent, the welfare of individuals may outweigh the
need to respect their desire to lead their own lives and make their own decisions
even when mistaken. Mill is the best example of a virtually absolute ANTI-paternalism,
at least with respect to the right of the state to act paternalistically. Mill
(whose father was a devil) argues that unless we have reason to believe that my
‘son’ is not acting voluntarily, as in the case of a man walking across a
bridge that, unknown to him, is about to collapse, we ought to allow an adult
son the freedom to act even if his act is harmful to himself.
Patrologia series latina -- patristic
authors – Includes Aelwhinec, Grice’s favourite speculative grammarian. Migne’s
Patrologia – Series Latina -- patrologia latina -- also called church fathers –
“the implicature is that one can have more than one father, I suppose.” –
Grice. a group of philosophers originally so named because they were considered
the “patres” of the Church of England to which Grice belongs.. The term
“patries ecclesiae” is now used more broadly to designate philosophers, orthodox
or heterodox, who were active in the first six centuries or so of the Christian
era. The chronological division is quite flexible, and it is regularly moved
several centuries later for particular purposes. Moreover, the study of these
philosophers has traditionally been divided variously, of which the principal
ones are of course, Grecian and Roman. The often sharp divisions among
patristic scholarships are partly a reflection of the different histories of
the regional churches, partly a reflection of the sociology of cholarship. The
patristic period in Grecian is usually taken as extending from the writers
after the so-called “New” Testament (such as “Paul,” after whom Grice was named
– he was named “Herbert” after a Viking ancestor), to such figures as Maximus
the Confessor or John of Damascus. The period is traditionally divided around
the Council of Nicea. PreNicean Grecian authors of importance to the history of
philosophy include Irenaeus, Clement of Alexandria, and Origen. Important
Nicean and post-Nicean authors include Athanasius; the Cappadocians, i.e.,
Gregory of Nazianzum, Basil of Cesarea and his brother, Gregory of Nyssa, and John
Chrysostom. Philosophical topics and practices are constantly engaged by these
Grecian authors. Justin Martyr e.g., describes his conversion to Christianity
quite explicitly as a transit through lower forms of philosophy into the true
philosophy. Clement of Alexandria, again, uses the philosophic genre of the
protreptic and a host of ancient texts to persuade his pagan readers that they
ought to come to Christianity as to the true wisdom. Origen devotes his Against
Celsus to the detailed rebuttal of one pagan philosopher’s attack on Christianity.
More importantly, if more subtly, the major works of the Cappadocians
appropriate and transform the teachings of any number of philosophic
authors Plato and the Neoplatonists in
first place, but also Aristotle, the Stoics, and Galen. The Roman church came
to count four post-Nicean authors as its chief teachers in the “Patrologia
latina”: Ambrose Jerome, and Gregory the
Great. Other Roman authors of philosophical interest include Tertulliano, Lactanzio, Mario Vittorino, and Hilary of
Poitiers. The Roman patristic period is typically counted roughly from
Tertulliano (of “Credo quia assudrdo” infame) to Boezio, the translator of
Porfirio’s Isagoge.. The Roman ‘fathers’ share with their Grecian
contemporaries a range of relations to the pagan philosophic schools, both as
rival institutions and as sources of useful teaching. Tertullian’s Against the
Nations and Apology, e.. g., take up pagan accusations against Christianity and
then counterattack a number of pagan beliefs, including philosophical ones. By
contrast, the writings of Mario Vittorino, Ambrose, and Augustine enact
transformations of philosophic teachings, especially from the Neoplatonists.
Because philosophical erudition is generally less hellenistic among the Romans
as among the hellenes, they are, fortunately to us, both more eager to accept
philosophical doctrines and freer in improvising variations on them.
patrizi: Grice, “His
surname is Patrizi, his first name is Francesco – he was born on an island, but
taught at Rome -- important Italian philosopher, “even if he disliked
Aristotle.” “He shouldn’t count as Italian since he is of Croatian descent, but
he lived in what was then part of the republic of Venice, so that’s something.”
– Grice . Refs.: Luigi Speranza, "Grice e Patrizio," per il Club
Anglo-Italiano, The Swimming-Pool Library, Villa Grice, Liguria, Italia.
nicoletti -- paolo di
venezia: philosopher, the son of Andrea Nicola, of Venice – He was born in
Fliuli Venezia Giulia, a hermit of Saint Augustine O.E.S.A., he spent three
years as a student at St. John’s, where the order of St. Augustine had a
‘studium generale,’ at Oxford and taught at Padova, where he became a doctor of
arts. Paolo also held appointments at the universities of Parma, Siena, and
Bologna. Paolo is active in the administration of his order, holding various
high offices. He composed ommentaries on several logical, ethical, and physical
works of Aristotle. His name is connected especially with his best-selling “Logica
parva.” Over 150 manuscripts survive, and more than forty printed editions of
it were made, His huge sequel, “Logica
magna,” was a flop. These Oxford-influenced tracts contributed to the favorable
climate enjoyed by Oxonian semantics in northern Italian universities. Grice:
“My favourite of Paul’s tracts is his “Sophismata aurea” – how peaceful for a
philosopher to die while commentingon Aristotle’s “De anima.”!” His nom de plum
is “Paulus Venetus.”-- Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Paolo da Harborne, and Paolo da Venezia,” lecture for
the Club Griceiano Anglo-Italiano, Bordighera.
peano: important Italian
philosopher. Peano’s postulates, also called Peano axioms, a list of
assumptions from which the integers can be defined from some initial integer,
equality, and successorship, and usually seen as defining progressions. The
Peano postulates for arithmetic were produced by G. Peano in 9. He took the set
N of integers with a first term 1 and an equality relation between them, and
assumed these nine axioms: 1 belongs to N; N has more than one member; equality
is reflexive, symmetric, and associative, and closed over N; the successor of
any integer in N also belongs to N, and is unique; and a principle of
mathematical induction applying across the members of N, in that if 1 belongs
to some subset M of N and so does the successor of any of its members, then in
fact M % N. In some ways Peano’s formulation was not clear. He had no explicit
rules of inference, nor any guarantee of the legitimacy of inductive
definitions which Dedekind established shortly before him. Further, the four
properties attached to equality were seen to belong to the underlying “logic”
rather than to arithmetic itself; they are now detached. It was realized by
Peano himself that the postulates specified progressions rather than integers
e.g., 1, ½, ¼, 1 /8, . . . , would satisfy them, with suitable interpretations of
the properties. But his work was significant in the axiomatization of
arithmetic; still deeper foundations would lead with Russell and others to a
major role for general set theory in the foundations of mathematics. In
addition, with O. Veblen, T. Skolem, and others, this insight led in the early
twentieth century to “non-standard” models of the postulates being developed in
set theory and mathematical analysis; one could go beyond the ‘. . .’ in the
sequence above and admit “further” objects, to produce valuable alternative
models of the postulates. These procedures were of great significance also to
model theory, in highlighting the property of the non-categoricity of an axiom
system. A notable case was the “non-standard analysis” of A. Robinson, where infinitesimals
were defined as arithmetical inverses of transfinite numbers without incurring
the usual perils of rigor associated with them.
Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Definite descriptions in Peano and in the
vernacular,” Luigi Speranza, "Grice e
Peano: semantica filosofica," per il Club Anglo-Italiano, The
Swimming-Pool Library, Villa Grice, Liguria, Italia.
pearsianism – after D. F. Pears, one of Grice’s collaborators in the
Play Group. “In them days, we would never publish, since the only philosophers
we were interested in communicating with we saw at least every Saturday!” –
With D. F. Pears, and J. F. Thomson, H. P. Grice explored topics in the
philosophy of action and ‘philosophical psychology.’ Actually, Grice carefully
writes ‘philosophy of action.’ Why? Well, because while with Pears and Thomson
he explored toopics like ‘intending’ and ‘deciding,’ it was always with a vew
towards ‘acting,’ or ‘doing.’ Grice is
very clear on this, “even fastidiously so,” as Blackburn puts it. In the
utterance of an imperative, or an intention, which may well be other-directed,
the immediate response or effect in your co-conversationalist is a
‘recognition,’ i. e. what Grice calls an ‘uptake,’ some sort of
‘understanding.’ In the case of these ‘desiderative’ moves, the recognition is
that the communicator WILLS something. Grice uses a ‘that’-clause attached to
‘will,’ so that he can formulate the proposition “p” – whose realization is in
question. Now, this ‘will’ on the part of the ‘communicator’ needs to be
‘transmitted.’ So the communicator’s will includes his will that his emissee
will adopt this will. “And eventually act upon it!” So, you see, while it looks
as if Pears and Thomson and Grice are into ‘philosophical psychology,’ they are
into ‘praxis.’ Not alla Althuser, but almost! Pears explored the idea of the
conversational implicaturum in connection, obviously, with action. There is a
particular type of conditional that relates to action. Grice’s example, “If I
COULD do it, I would climb Mt. Everest on hands and knees.” Grice and Pears, and indeed Thomson, analysed
this ‘if.’ Pears thinks that ‘if’ conversationally implicates ‘if and only if.’
Grice called that “Perfecct pears.”
pelagianism: or as Grice
preferred, Pelagusianism --. the doctrine in Christian theology that, through
the exercise of free will, human beings can attain moral perfection. A broad
movement devoted to this proposition was only loosely associated with its
eponymous leader. Pelagius c.354c.425, a lay theologian from Britain or
Ireland, taught in Rome prior to its sacking in 410. He and his disciple
Celestius found a forceful adversary in Augustine, whom they provoked to
stiffen his stance on original sin, the bondage of the will, and humanity’s
total reliance upon God’s grace and predestination for salvation. To Pelagius,
this constituted fatalism and encouraged moral apathy. God would not demand
perfection, as the Bible sometimes suggested, were that impossible to attain.
Rather grace made the struggle easier for a sanctity that would not be
unreachable even in its absence. Though in the habit of sinning, in consequence
of the fall, we have not forfeited the capacity to overcome that habit nor been
released from the imperative to do so. For all its moral earnestness this
teaching seems to be in conflict with much of the New Testament, especially as
interpreted by Augustine, and it was condemned as heresy in 418. The bondage of
the will has often been reaffirmed, perhaps most notably by Luther in dispute
with Erasmus. Yet Christian theology and practice have always had their
sympathizers with Pelagianism and with its reluctance to attest the loss of
free will, the inevitability of sin, and the utter necessity of God’s grace.
pera: important Italian philosopher. Refs.: Luigi Speranza,
"Grice e Pera," per il Club Anglo-Italiano, The Swimming-Pool
Library, Villa Grice, Liguria, Italia.
izzing/hazzing
– per-essentiam/per-accidentem: literally, “by, as, or being an accident
or non-essential feature.” A “per accidens” predication Grice calls a hazzing
(not an izzing) and is one in which an accident is predicated of a substance.
The terminology is medieval. Note that the accident and substance themselves, and
not expressions standing for them, are the terms of the predication relation.
An “ens per accidentem” is either an accident or the “accidental unity” of a
substance and an accident. Descartes, e.g., insists that a person is not a “per
accidentem” union of body and mind. H. P. Grice, “Izzing, hazzing: the
per-essentiam/per-accidentem distinction.”
perceptum: vide Grice/Warnock, “Notes on visa.” -- myse-en-abyme,
drodde effect Dahlenmacher, speculative – mirror in front of mirror -- , the
traditional distinction is perceptum-conceptum: nihil est in intellectu quod
prius non fuerit in sensu. this is Grice on sense-datum. Grice feels that the
kettle is hot; Grice sees that the kettle is hot; Grice perceives that the
kettle is hot. WoW:251 uses this example. It may be argued that the use of
‘see’ is there NOT factive. Cf. “I feel hot but it’s not hot.” Grice modifies
the thing to read, “DIRECTLY PERCEIVING”: Grice only indirectly perceives that
the kettle is hot’ if what he is doing is ‘seeing’ that the kettle is hot. When
Grice sees that the kettle is hot, it is a ‘secondary’ usage of ‘see,’ because
it means that Grice perceives that the kettle has some visual property that INDICATES
the presence of hotness (Grice uses phi for the general formula). Cf. sensum.
Lewis and Short have “sentĭo,”
which they render, aptly, as “to sense,” ‘to discern by the senses; to feel,
hear, see, etc.; to perceive, be sensible of (syn. percipio).” Note that Price is also cited by Grice in Personal
identity. Grice: That pillar box seems red to me. The locus classicus in the
philosophical literature for Grices implicaturum. Grice introduces a
dout-or-denial condition for an utterance of a phenomenalist report (That
pillar-box seems red to me). Grice attacks neo-Wittgensteinian approaches that
regard the report as _false_. In a long excursus on implication, he compares
the phenomenalist report with utterances like He has beautiful handwriting (He
is hopeless at philosophy), a particularised conversational implicaturum; My
wife is in the kitchen or the garden (I have non-truth-functional grounds to
utter this), a generalised conversational implicaturum; She was poor but she
was honest (a Great-War witty (her poverty and her honesty contrast), a
conventional implicaturum; and Have you stopped beating your wife? an old
Oxonian conundrum. You have been beating your wife, cf. Smith has not ceased
from eating iron, a presupposition. More importantly, he considers different
tests for each concoction! Those for the conversational implicaturum will
become crucial: cancellability, calculability, non-detachability, and
indeterminacy. In the proceedings he plays with something like the principle of
conversational helpfulness, as having a basis on a view of conversation as
rational co-operation, and as giving the rationale to the implicaturum. Past
the excursus, and back to the issue of perception, he holds a conservative view
as presented by Price at Oxford. One interesting reprint of Grices essay is in
Daviss volume on Causal theories, since this is where it belongs! White’s
response is usually ignored, but shouldnt. White is an interesting Australian
philosopher at Oxford who is usually regarded as a practitioner of
ordinary-language philosophy. However, in his response, White hardly touches
the issue of the implicaturum with which Grice is primarily concerned. Grice
found that a full reprint from the PAS in a compilation also containing the
James Harvard would be too repetitive. Therefore, he omits the excursus on
implication. However, the way Grice re-formulates what that excursus covers is
very interesting. There is the conversational implicaturum, particularised
(Smith has beautiful handwriting) and generalised (My wife is in the kitchen or
in the garden). Then there is the præsuppositum, or presupposition (You havent stopped
beating your wife). Finally, there is the conventional implicaturum (She was
poor, but she was honest). Even at Oxford, Grices implicaturum goes,
philosophers ‒ even Oxonian philosophers ‒ use imply for all those different
animals! Warnock had attended Austins Sense and Sensibilia (not to be confused
with Sense and Sensibility by Austen), which Grice found boring, but Warnock
didnt because Austin reviews his "Berkeley." But Warnock, for
obvious reasons, preferred philosophical investigations with Grice. Warnock
reminisces that Grice once tells him, and not on a Saturday morning, either,
How clever language is, for they find that ordinary language does not need the
concept of a visum. Grice and Warnock spent lovely occasions exploring what
Oxford has as the philosophy of perception. While Grice later came to see
philosophy of perception as a bit or an offshoot of philosophical psychology,
the philosophy of perception is concerned with that treasured bit of the
Oxonian philosophers lexicon, the sense-datum, always in the singular! The
cause involved is crucial. Grice plays with an evolutionary justification of
the material thing as the denotatum of a perceptual judgement. If a material
thing causes the sense-datum of a nut, that is because the squarrel (or
squirrel) will not be nourished by the sense datum of the nut; only by the nut!
There are many other items in the Grice Collection that address the topic of
perception – notably with Warnock, and criticizing members of the Ryle group
like Roxbee-Cox (on vision, cf. visa ‒ taste, and perception, in general – And
we should not forget that Grice contributed a splendid essay on the distinction
of the senses to Butlers Analytic philosophy, which in a way, redeemed a rather
old-fashioned discipline by shifting it to the idiom of the day, the philosophy
of perception: a retrospective, with Warnock, the philosophy of perception, :
perception, the philosophy of perception, visum. Warnock was possibly the
only philosopher at Oxford Grice felt congenial enough to engage in different
explorations in the so-called philosophy of perception. Their joint adventures
involved the disimplicaturum of a visum. Grice later approached sense data in
more evolutionary terms: a material thing is to be vindicated transcendentally,
in the sense that it is a material thing (and not a sense datum or collection
thereof) that nourishes a creature like a human. Grice was particularly
grateful to Warnock. By reprinting the full symposium on “Causal theory” of
perception in his influential s. of Oxford Readings in Philosophy, Warnock had
spread Grices lore of implicaturum all over! In some parts of the draft he uses
more on visa, vision, vision, with Warnock, vision. Of the five senses,
Grice and Warnock are particularly interested in seeing. As Grice will put it
later, see is a factive. It presupposes the existence of the event reported
after the that-clause; a visum, however, as an intermediary between the
material thing and the perceiver does not seem necessary in ordinary discourse.
Warnock will reconsider Grices views too (On what is seen, in Sibley). While
Grice uses vision, he knows he is interested in Philosophers paradox concerning
seeing, notably Witters on seeing as, vision, taste and the philosophy of
perception, vision, seeing. As an Oxonian philosopher, Grice was of course
more interested in seeing than in vision. He said that Austin would criticise
even the use of things like sensation and volition, taste, The Grice Papers,
keyword: taste, the objects of the five senses, the philosophy of perception,
perception, the philosophy of perception; philosophy of perception, vision,
taste, perception. Mainly with Warnock. Warnock repr. Grice’s “Causal
theory” in his influential Reading in Philosophy, The philosophy of perception,
perception, with Warnock, with Warner; perception. Warnock learns about
perception much more from Grice than from Austin, taste, The philosophy of
perception, the philosophy of perception, notes with Warnock on visum, : visum,
Warnock, Grice, the philosophy of perception. Grice kept the lecture
notes to a view of publishing a retrospective. Warnock recalled Grice
saying, how clever language is! Grice took the offer by Harvard University
Press, and it was a good thing he repr. part of “Causal theory.” However, the relevant
bits for his theory of conversation as rational co-operation lie in the
excursus which he omitted. What is Grices implicaturum: that one should
consider the topic rather than the method here, being sense datum, and
causation, rather than conversational helpfulness. After all, That pillar box
seems red to me, does not sound very helpful. But the topic of Causal theory is
central for his view of conversation as rational co-operation. Why? P1 gets
an impression of danger as caused by the danger out there. He communicates the
danger to P1, causing in P2 some behaviour. Without
causation, or causal links, the very point of offering a theory of conversation
as rational co-operation seems minimized. On top, as a metaphysician, he was
also concerned with cause simpliciter. He was especially proud that Price’s
section on the casual theory of perception, from his Belief, had been repr.
along with his essay in the influential volume by Davis on “Causal theories.”
In “Actions and events,” Grice further explores cause now in connection with
Greek aitia. As Grice notes, the original usage of this very Grecian item is
the one we find in rebel without a cause, cause-to, rather than cause-because.
The two-movement nature of causing is reproduced in the conversational exchange:
a material thing causes a sense datum which causes an expression which gets
communicated, thus causing a psychological state which will cause a behaviour.
This causation is almost representational. A material thing or a situation
cannot govern our actions and behaviours, but a re-præsentatum of it might.
Govern our actions and behaviour is Grices correlate of what a team of
North-Oxfordshire cricketers can do for North-Oxfordshire: what North
Oxfordshire cannot do for herself, Namesly, engage in a game of cricket! In
Retrospective epilogue he casts doubts on the point of his causal approach. It
is a short paragraph that merits much exploration. Basically, Grice is saying
his causalist approach is hardly an established thesis. He also proposes a similar
serious objection to his view in Some remarks about the senses, the other essay
in the philosophy of perception in Studies. As he notes, both engage with some
fundamental questions in the philosophy of perception, which is hardly the same
thing as saying that they provide an answer to each question! Grice: The
issue with which I have been mainly concerned may be thought rather a fine
point, but it is certainly not an isolated one. There are several philosophical
theses or dicta which would I think need to be examined in order to see whether
or not they are sufficiently parallel to the thesis which I have been
discussing to be amenable to treatment of the same general kind. Examples which
occur to me are the following six. You cannot see a knife ‘as’ a knife, though
you may see what is not a knife ‘as’ a knife (keyword: ‘seeing as’). When he
said he ‘knew’ that the objects before him were human hands, Moore was guilty
of misusing ‘know.’ For an occurrence to be properly said to have a ‘cause,’ it
must be something abnormal or unusual (keyword: ‘cause’). For an action to be
properly described as one for which the agent is ‘responsible,’ it must be the
sort of action for which people are condemned (keyword: responsibility). What
is actual is not also possible (keyword: actual). What is known by me to be the
case is not also believed by me to be the case (keyword: ‘know’ – cf. Urmson on
‘scalar set’). And cf. with the extra examples he presents in “Prolegomena.” I
have no doubt that there will be other candidates besides the six which I have
mentioned. I must emphasize that I am not saying that all these examples are
importantly similar to the thesis which I have been criticizing, only that, for
all I know, they may be. To put the matter more generally, the position adopted
by my objector seems to me to involve a type of manoeuvre which is
characteristic of more than one contemporary mode of philosophizing. I am not
condemning this kind of manoeuvre. I am merely suggesting that to embark on it
without due caution is to risk collision with the facts. Before we rush ahead
to exploit the linguistic nuances which we have detectcd, we should make sure
that we are reasonably clear what sort of nuances they are. “Causal theory”,
knowledge and belief, knowledge, belief, philosophical psychology. Grice: the
doxastic implicaturum. I know only implicates I do not believe. The following
is a mistake by a philosopher. What is known by me to be the case is not also
believed by me to be the case. The topic had attracted the attention of some
Oxonian philosophers such as Urmson in Parenthetical verbs. Urmson speaks of a
scale: I know can be used parenthetically, as I believe can. For Grice, to
utter I believe is obviously to make a weaker conversational move than you
would if you utter I know. And in this case, an approach to informativeness in
terms of entailment is in order, seeing that I know entails I believe. A is
thus allowed to infer that the utterer is not in a position to make the
stronger claim. The mechanism is explained via his principle of conversational
helpfulness. Philosophers tend two over-use these two basic psychological
states, attitudes, or stances. Grice is concerned with Gettier-type cases, and
also the factivity of know versus the non-factivity of believe. Grice follows
the lexicological innovations by Hintikka: the logic of belief is doxastic; the
logic of knowledge is epistemic. The last thesis that Grice lists in Causal
theory that he thinks rests on a big mistake he formulates as: What is known by
me to be the case is NOT also believed by me to be the case. What are his
attending remarks? Grice writes: The issue with which I have been mainly
concerned may be thought rather a fine point, but it is certainly not an
isolated one. There are several philosophical theses or dicta which would I
think need to be examined in order to see whether or not they are sufficiently
parallel to the thesis which I have been discussing to be amenable to treatment
of the same general kind. An example which occurs to me is the following: What
is known by me to be the case is not also believed by me to be the case. I must
emphasise that I am not saying that this example is importantly similar to the
thesis which I have been criticising, only that, for all I know, it may be. To
put the matter more generally, the position adopted by my objector seems to me
to involve a type of manoeuvre which is characteristic of more than one
contemporary mode of philosophizing. I am not condemning this kind of
manoeuvre. I am merely suggesting that to embark on it without due caution is
to risk collision with the facts. Before we rush ahead to exploit the
linguistic nuances which we have detected, we should make sure that we are
reasonably clear what SORT of nuances they are! The ætiological implicaturum.
Grice. For an occurrence to be properly said to have a cause, it must be
something abnormal or unusual. This is an example Grice lists in Causal theory
but not in Prolegomena. But cf. ‘responsible’ – and Hart and Honoré on
accusation -- accusare
"call to account, make complaint against," from ad causa, from “ad,”
with regard to, as in ‘ad-’) + causa, a cause; a lawsuit,’ v. cause. For an occurrence to be properly said to have a cause, it
must be something abnormal or unusual. Similar commentary to his example on
responsible/condemnable apply. The objector may stick with the fact that he is
only concerned with proper utterances. Surely Grice wants to go to a
pre-Humeian account of causation, possible Aristotelian, aetiologia. Where
everything has a cause, except, for Aristotle, God! What are his attending
remarks? Grice writes: The issue with which I have been mainly concerned may be
thought rather a fine point, but it is certainly not an isolated one. There are
several philosophical theses or dicta which would I think need to be examined
in order to see whether or not they are sufficiently parallel to the thesis
which I have been discussing to be amenable to treatment of the same general
kind. An example which occurs to me is the following: What is known by me to be
the case is not also believed by me to be the case. I must emphasise that I am
not saying that this example is importantly similar to the thesis which I have
been criticizing, only that, for all I know, it may be. To put the matter more
generally, the position adopted by my objector seems to me to involve a type of
manoeuvre which is characteristic of more than one contemporary mode of
philosophising. I am not condemning this kind of manoeuvre. I am merely
suggesting that to embark on it without due caution is to risk collision with
the facts. Before we rush ahead to exploit the linguistic nuances which we have
detected, we should make sure that we are reasonably clear what sort of nuances
they are! Causal theory, cause, causality, causation, conference, colloquium,
Stanford, cause, metaphysics, the abnormal/unusual implicaturum, ætiology,
ætiological implicaturum. Grice: the ætiological implicaturum. Grices
explorations on cause are very rich. He is concerned with some alleged misuse
of cause in ordinary language. If as Hume suggests, to cause is to will, one
would say that the decapitation of Charles I wills his death, which sounds
harsh, if not ungrammatical, too. Grice later relates cause to the Greek aitia,
as he should. He notes collocations like rebel without a cause. For the Greeks,
or Grecians, as he called them, and the Griceians, it is a cause to which one
should be involved in elucidating. A ‘cause to’ connects with the idea of
freedom. Grice was constantly aware of the threat of mechanism, and his idea
was to provide philosophical room for the idea of finality, which is not
mechanistically derivable. This leads him to discussion of overlap and priority
of, say, a physical-cum-physiological versus a psychological theory explaining
this or that piece of rational behaviour. Grice can be Wittgensteinian when
citing Anscombes translation: No psychological concept without the behaviour
the concept is brought to explain. It is best to place his later
treatment of cause with his earlier one in Causal theory. It is surprising
Grice does not apply his example of a mistake by a philosopher to the causal
bit of his causal theory. Grice states the philosophical mistake as follows:
For an occurrence to be properly said to have a cause, it must be something
abnormal or unusual. This is an example Grice lists in Causal theory but not in
Prolegomena. For an occurrence to be properly said to have a cause, it must be
something abnormal or unusual. A similar commentary to his example on
responsible/condemnable applies: The objector may stick with the fact that he
is only concerned with PROPER utterances. Surely Grice wants to embrace a
pre-Humeian account of causation, possible Aristotelian. Keyword: Aitiologia,
where everything has a cause, except, for Aristotle, God! What are his
attending remarks? Grice writes: The issue with which I have been mainly
concerned may be thought rather a fine point, but it is certainly not an
isolated one. There are several philosophical theses or dicta which would Grice
thinks need to be examined in order to see whether or not they are sufficiently
parallel to the thesis which Grice has been discussing to be amenable to
treatment of the same general kind. One example which occurs to Grice is the
following: For an occurrence to be properly said to have a cause, it must be
something abnormal or unusual. Grice feels he must emphasise that he is not
saying that this example is importantly similar to the thesis which I have been
criticizing, only that, for all I know, it may be. To put the matter more
generally, the position adopted by my objector seems to me to involve a type of
manoeuvre which is characteristic of more than one contemporary mode of
philosophizing. I am not condemning this kind of manoeuvre. I am merely
suggesting that to embark on it without due caution is to risk collision with
the facts. Before we rush ahead to exploit the linguistic nuances which we have
detected, we should make sure that we are reasonably clear what sort of nuances
they are! Re: responsibility/condemnation. Cf. Mabbott, Flew on punishment,
Philosophy. And also Hart. At Corpus, Grice enjoys his tutor Hardies
resourcefulness in the defence of what may be a difficult position, a
characteristic illustrated by an incident which Hardie himself once told Grice
about himself. Hardie had parked his car and gone to a cinema. Unfortunately,
Hardie had parked his car on top of one of the strips on the street by means of
which traffic-lights were, at the time, controlled by the passing traffic. As a
result, the lights are jammed, and it requires four policemen to lift Hardies
car off the strip. The police decides to prosecute. Grice indicated to Hardie
that this hardly surprised him and asked him how he fared. Oh, Hardie says, I
got off. Then Grice asks Hardie how on earth he managed that! Quite simply,
Hardie answers. I just invoked Mills method of difference. The police charged
me with causing an obstruction at 4 p.m. I told the police that, since my car
was parked at 2 p.m., it could not have been my car which caused the
obstruction at 4 p.m. This relates to an example in Causal theory that he Grice
does not discuss in Prolegomena, but which may relate to Hart, and closer to
Grice, to Mabbotts essay on Flew on punishment, in Philosophy. Grice states the
philosophical mistake as follows: For an action to be properly described as one
for which the agent is responsible, it must be thc sort of action for which
people are condemned. As applied to Hardie. Is Hardie irresponsible? In any
case, while condemnable, he was not! Grice writes: The issue with which I have
been mainly concerned may be thought rather a fine point, but it is certainly
not an isolated one. There are several philosophical theses or dicta which
would I think need to be examined in order to see whether or not they are
sufficiently parallel to the thesis which I have been discussing to be amenable
to treatment of the same general kind. An example which occurs to me is the
following: For an action to be properly described as one for which the agent is
responsible, it must be the sort of action for which people are condemned. I
must emphasise that I am not saying that this example is importantly similar to
the thesis which I have been criticizing, only that, for all I know, it may be.
To put the matter more generally, the position adopted by my objector seems to
me to involve a type of manoeuvre which is characteristic of more than one
contemporary mode of philosophizing. I am not condemning this kind of
manoeuvre. I am merely suggesting that to embark on it without due caution is
to risk collision with the facts. Before we rush ahead to exploit the
linguistic nuances which we have detected, we should make sure that we are
reasonably clear what sort of nuances they are. The modal example, what is
actual is not also possible, should discussed under Indicative conditonals,
Grice on Macbeth’s implicaturum: seeing a dagger as a dagger. Grice elaborates
on this in Prolegomena, but the austerity of Causal theory is charming, since
he does not give a quote or source. Obviously, Witters. Grice writes: Witters
might say that one cannot see a knife as a knife, though one may see what is
not a knife as a knife. The issue, Grice notes, with which I have been mainly
concerned may be thought rather a fine point, but it is certainly not an
isolated one. There are several philosophical theses or dicta which would I
think need to be examined in order to see whether or not they are sufficiently
parallel to the thesis which I have been discussing to be amenable to treatment
of the same general kind. An example which occurs to Grice is the following:
You cannot see a knife as a knife, though you may see what is not a knife as a
knife. Grice feels that he must emphasise that he is not saying that this
example is importantly similar to the thesis which I have been criticizing,
only that, for all I know, it may be. To put the matter more generally, the
position adopted by my objector seems to me to involve a type of manoeuvre
which is characteristic of more than one contemporary mode of philosophizing. I
am not condemning this kind of manoeuvre. I am merely suggesting that to embark
on it without due caution is to risk collision with the facts. Before we rush
ahead to exploit the linguistic nuances which we have detected, we should make
sure that we are reasonably clear what sort of nuances they are! Is this a
dagger which I see before me, the handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch
thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision,
sensible to feeling as to sight? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false
creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? I see thee yet, in form as
palpable as this which now I draw. Thou marshallst me the way that I was going;
and such an instrument I was to use. Mine eyes are made the fools o the other
senses, Or else worth all the rest; I see thee still, and on thy blade and
dudgeon gouts of blood, which was not so before. Theres no such thing: It is
the bloody business which informs Thus to mine eyes. Now oer the one halfworld
Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse The curtaind sleep; witchcraft
celebrates Pale Hecates offerings, and witherd murder, Alarumd by his sentinel,
the wolf, Whose howls his watch, thus with his stealthy pace. With
Tarquins ravishing strides, towards his design Moves like a ghost. Thou sure
and firm-set earth, Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear Thy very
stones prate of my whereabout, And take the present horror from the time, Which
now suits with it. Whiles I threat, he lives: Words to the heat of deeds too
cold breath gives. I go, and it is done; the bell invites me. Hear it not,
Duncan; for it is a knell that summons thee to heaven or to hell. The Moore
example is used both in “Causal theory” and “Prolegomena.” But the use in “Causal
Theory” is more austere: Philosophers mistake: Malcolm: When Moore said he knew
that the objects before him were human hands, he was guilty of misusing the
word know. Grice writes: The issue with which I have been mainly concerned may
be thought rather a fine point, but it is certainly not an isolated one. There
are several philosophical theses or dicta which would I think need to be
examined in order to see whether or not they are sufficiently parallel to the
thesis which I have been discussing to be amenable to treatment of the same
general kind. An example which occurs to me is the following: When Moore said
he knew that the objects before him were human hands, he was guilty of misusing
the word know. I must emphasise that I am not saying that this example is
importantly similar to the thesis which I have been criticizing, only that, for
all I know, it may be. To put the matter more generally, the position adopted
by my objector seems to me to involve a type of manoeuvre which is
characteristic of more than one contemporary mode of philosophizing. I am not
condemning this kind of manoeuvre. Grice is merely suggesting that to embark on
it without due caution is to risk collision with the facts. Before we rush
ahead to exploit the linguistic nuances which we have detected, we should make
sure that we are reasonably clear what sort of nuances they are! So surely
Grice is meaning: I know that the objects before me are human hands as uttered
by Moore is possibly true. Grice was amused by the fact that while at Madison,
Wisc., Moore gave the example: I know that behind those curtains there is a
window. Actually he was wrong, as he soon realised when the educated
Madisonians corrected him with a roar of unanimous laughter. You see, the
lecture hall of the University of Wisconsin at Madison is a rather, shall we
say, striking space. The architect designed the lecture hall with a parapet
running around the wall just below the ceiling, cleverly rigged with indirect
lighting to create the illusion that sun light is pouring in through windows
from outside. So, Moore comes to give a lecture one sunny day. Attracted as he
was to this eccentric architectural detail, Moore gives an illustration of
certainty as attached to common sense. Pointing to the space below the ceiling,
Moore utters. We know more things than we think we know. I know, for example,
that the sunlight shining in from outside proves At which point he was somewhat startled (in
his reserved Irish-English sort of way) when his audience burst out laughing!
Is that a proof of anything? Grice is especially concerned with I seem He needs
a paradeigmatic sense-datum utterance, and intentionalist as he was, he finds
it in I seem to see a red pillar box before me. He is relying on Paul. Grice
would generalise a sense datum by φ I seem to perceive that the alpha is phi.
He agrees that while cause may be too much, any sentence using because will do:
At a circus: You seem to be seeing that an elephant is coming down the street
because an elephant is coming down the street. Grice found the causalist theory
of perception particularly attractive since its objection commits one same
mistake twice: he mischaracterises the cancellable implicaturum of both seem
and cause! While Grice is approaching the philosophical item in the
philosophical lexicon, perceptio, he is at this stage more interested in
vernacular that- clauses such as sensing that, or even more vernacular ones
like seeming that, if not seeing that! This is of course philosophical (cf.
aesthetikos vs. noetikos). L and S have “perceptĭo,” f. perceptio, as used by
Cicero (Ac. 2, 7, 22) translating catalepsis, and which they render as “a
taking, receiving; a gathering in, collecting;’ frugum fruetuumque reliquorum,
Cic. Off. 2, 3, 12: fructuum;’ also as perception, comprehension, cf.: notio,
cognition; animi perceptiones, notions, ideas; cognitio aut perceptio, aut si
verbum e verbo volumus comprehensio, quam κατάληψιν illi vocant; in philosophy,
direct apprehension of an object by the mind, Zeno Stoic.1.20, Luc. Par. 4,
al.; τῶν μετεώρων;” ἀκριβὴς κ. Certainty; pl., perceptions, Stoic.2.30, Luc.
Herm.81, etc.; introduced into Latin by Cicero, Plu. Cic. 40. As for “causa”
Grice is even more sure he was exploring a time-honoured philosophical topic.
The entry in L and S is “causa,’ perh. root “cav-“ of “caveo,” prop. that which
is defended or protected; cf. “cura,” and that they render as, unhelpfully, as
“cause,” “that by, on account of, or through which any thing takes place or is
done;” “a cause, reason, motive, inducement;” also, in gen., an occasion,
opportunity; oeffectis; factis, syn.
with ratio, principium, fons, origo, caput; excusatio, defensio; judicium,
controversia, lis; partes, actio; condicio, negotium, commodum, al.);
correlated to aition, or aitia, cause, δι᾽ ἣν αἰτίην ἐπολέμησαν,” cf. Pl. Ti.
68e, Phd. 97a sq.; on the four causes of Arist. v. Ph. 194b16, Metaph. 983a26:
αἰ. τοῦ γενέσθαι or γεγονέναι Pl. Phd. 97a; τοῦ μεγίστου ἀγαθοῦ τῇ πόλει αἰτία
ἡ κοινωνία Id. R. 464b: αἰτίᾳ for the sake of, κοινοῦ τινος ἀγαθοῦ.” Then there
is “αἴτιον” (cf. ‘αἴτιος’) is used like “αἰτία” in the sense of cause, not in
that of ‘accusation.’ Grice goes back to perception at a later stage,
reminiscing on his joint endeavours with akin Warnock, Ps karulise elatically,
potching and cotching obbles, Pirotese, Pirotese, creature construction,
philosophical psychology. Grice was fascinated by Carnaps Ps which
karulise elatically. Grice adds potching for something like perceiving and
cotching for something like cognising. With his essay Some remarks about
the senses, Grice introduces the question by which criterion we
distinguish our five senses into the contemporary philosophy of perception. The
literature concerning this question is not very numerous but the discussion is
still alive and was lately inspired by the volume The Senses2. There are four
acknowledged possible answers to the question how we distinguish the senses,
all of them already stated by Grice. First, the senses are distinguished by the
properties we perceive by them. Second, the senses are distinguished by the
phenomenal qualities of the perception itself or as Grice puts it “by the
special introspectible character of the experiences” Third, the senses are
distinguished by the physical stimuli that are responsible for the relevant
perceptions. Fourth, The senses are distinguished by the sense-organs that are
(causally) involved in the production of the relevant perceptions. Most
contributions discussing this issue reject the third and fourth answers in a
very short argumentation. Nearly all philosophers writing on the topic vote
either for the first or the second answer. Accordingly, most part of the debate
regarding the initial question takes the form of a dispute between these two
positions. Or” was a big thing in Oxford philosophy. The only known
published work of Wood, our philosophy tutor at Christ Church, was an essay in
Mind, the philosophers journal, entitled “Alternative Uses of “Or” ”, a work
which was every bit as indeterminate as its title. Several years later he
published another paper, this time for the Aristotelian Society, entitled On
being forced to a conclusion. Cf. Grice and Wood on the demands of
conversational reason. Wood, The force of linguistic rules. Wood, on the implicaturum
of or in review in Mind of Connor, Logic. The five senses, as Urmson notes, are
to see that the sun is shining, to hear that the car collided, to feel that her
pulse is beating, to smell that something has been smoking and to taste that.
An interesting piece in that it was commissioned by Butler, who knew Grice from
his Oxford days. Grice cites Wood and Albritton. Grice is concerned with a
special topic in the philosophy of perception, notably the identification of
the traditional five senses: vision, audition, taste, smell, and tact. He
introduces what is regarded in the philosophical literature as the first
thought-experiment, in terms of the senses that Martians may have. They have
two pairs of eyes: are we going to allow that they see with both pairs? Grice
introduces a sub-division of seeing: a Martian x-s an object with his upper
pair of eyes, but he y-s an object with the lower pair of eyes. In his
exploration, he takes a realist stance, which respects the ordinary discursive
ways to approach issues of perception. A second interesting point is that in
allowing this to be repr. in Butlers Analytic philosophy, Grice is
demonstrating that analytic philosophers should NOT be obsessed with ordinary
language. Butlers compilation, a rather dry one, is meant as a response to the
more linguistic oriented ones by Flew (Grices first tutee at St. Johns, as it
happens), also published by Blackwell, and containing pieces by Austin, and
company. One philosopher who took Grice very seriously on this was Coady, in
his The senses of the Martians. Grice provides a serious objection to his own
essay in Retrospective epilogue We see with our eyes. I.e. eye is
teleologically defined. He notes that his way of distinguishing the senses is
hardly an established thesis. Grice actually advances this topic in his earlier
Causal theory. Grice sees nothing absurd in the idea that a non-specialist
concept should contain, so to speak, a blank space to be filled in by the
specialist; that this is so, e.g., in the case of the concept of seeing is
perhaps indicated by the consideration that if we were in doubt about the
correctness of speaking of a certain creature with peculiar sense-organs as
seeing objects, we might well wish to hear from a specialist a comparative
account of the human eye and the relevant sense-organs of the creature in
question. He returns to the point in Retrospective epilogue with a bit of
doxastic humility, We see with our eyes is analytic ‒ but
philosophers should take that more seriously. Grice tested the playmates
of his children, aged 7 and 9, with Nothing can be green and red all
over. Instead, Morley Bunker preferred
philosophy undergrads. Aint that boring? To give examples:
Summer follows Spring was judged analytic by Morley-Bunkers informants, as
cited by Sampson, in Making sense (Clarendon) by highly significant majorities
in each group of Subjectss, while We see with our eyes was given near-even
split votes by each group. Over all, the philosophers were somewhat more
consistent with each other than the non-philosophers. But that global finding
conceals results for individual sentences that sometimes manifested the
opposed tendency. Thus, Thunderstorms are electrical disturbances in the
atmosphere is judged analytic by a highly significant majority of the
non-philosophers, while a non-significant majority of the philosophers deemed
it non-analytic or synthetic. In this case, it seems, philosophical training,
surely not brain-washing, induces the realisation that well-established results
of contemporary science are not necessary truths. In other cases, conversely,
cliches of current philosophical education impose their own mental blinkers on
those who undergo it: Nothing can be completely red and green all over is
judged analytic by a significant majority of philosophers but only by a
non-significant majority of non-philosophers. All in all, the results argue
strongly against the notion that our inability to decide consistently whether
or not some statement is a necessary truth derives from lack of skill in
articulating our underlying knowledge of the rules of our language. Rather, the
inability comes from the fact that the question as posed is unreal. We choose
to treat a given statement as open to question or as unchallengeable in the
light of the overall structure of beliefs which we have individually
evolved in order to make sense of our individual experience. Even the cases
which seem clearly analytic or synthetic are cases which individuals judge
alike because the relevant experiences are shared by the whole community, but even
for such cases one can invent hypothetical or suppositional future experiences
which, if they should be realised, would cause us to revise our judgements.
This is not intended to call into question the special status of the truths of
logic, such as either Either it is raining or it is not. He is of course
inclined to accept the traditional view according to which logical particles
such as not and or are distinct from the bulk of the vocabulary in that the
former really are governed by clear-cut inference rules. Grice does expand
on the point. Refs.: Under sense-datum, there are groups of essays. The obvious
ones are the two essays on the philosophy of perception in WOW. A second group
relates to his research with G. J. Warnock, where the keywords are ‘vision,’
‘taste,’ and ‘perception,’ in general. There is a more recent group with this
research with R. Warner. ‘Visum’ and ‘visa’ are good keywords, and cf. the use
of ‘senses’ in “Some remarks about the senses,” in BANC.Philo: Grice’s
favourite philosopher, after Ariskant. The [Greek: protos logos anapodeiktos]
of the Stoic logic ran thus [Greek: ei hemera esti, phos estin ... alla men
hemera estin phos ara estin] (Sext. _P.H._ II. 157, and other passages qu.
Zeller 114). This bears a semblance of inference and isnot so utterly tautological as Cic.'s translation, which
merges [Greek: phos] and [Greek: hemera] into one word, or that of Zeller (114,
note). Si
dies est lucet: a better trans of
Greek: ei phos estin, hemera estin] than was given in 96, where see n. _Aliter
Philoni_: not Philo of Larissa, but a noted dialectician, pupil of Diodorus the
Megarian, mentioned also in 75. The dispute between Diodorus and Philo is
mentioned in Sext. _A.M._ VIII. 115--117 with the same purpose as here, see
also Zeller 39. Conexi = Gr. “synemmenon,” cf. Zeller 109. This was the proper
term for the hypothetical judgment. _Superius_: the Greek: synemmenon consists
of two parts, the hypothetical part and the affirmative--called in Greek
[Greek: hegoumenon] and [Greek: legon]; if one is admitted the other follows of
course.Philo's criterion for the truth of “if p, q” is truth-functional. Philo’s
truth-functional criterion is generally accepted as a minimal condition.Philo
maintains that “If Smith is in London, he, viz. Smith, is attending the meeting
there, viz. in London” is true (i) when the antecedens (“Smith is in London”)
is true and the consequens (“Smith is in London at a meeting”) is true (row 1)
and (ii) when the antecedent is false (rows 3 and 4); false only when the antecedens
(“Smith is in London”) is true and the consequens (“Smith is in London, at a
meeting”) is false. (Sext. Emp., A.
M., 2.113-114). Philo’s “if p, q” is what Whitehead and Russell call,
misleadingly, ‘material’ implication, for it’s neither an implication, nor
materia.In “The Influence of Grice on Philo,” Shropshire puts forward the
thesis that Philo was aware of Griceian ideas on relative identity,
particularly time-relative identity. Accordingly, Philo uses subscript for
temporal indexes. Once famous discussion took place one long winter night.“If it
is day, it is night.”“False!” Diodorus screamed.“True,” his tutee Philo
courteously responded. “But true at night only.”Philo's suggestion is
remarkable – although not that remarkable if we assume he read the now lost
Griceian tract.Philo’s “if,” like Grice’s “if,” – on a bad day -- deviates
noticeably from what Austin (and indeed, Austen) used to refer to as ‘ordinary’
language.As Philo rotundly says: “The Griceian ‘if’ requires abstraction on the
basis of a concept of truth-functionality – and not all tutees will succeed in
GETTING that.” The hint was on Strawson.Philo's ‘if’ has been criticised on two
counts. First, as with Whitehead’s and Russell’s equally odd ‘if,’ – which they
symbolise with an ‘inverted’ C, to irritate Johnson, -- “They think ‘c’ stands
for either ‘consequentia’ or ‘contentum’ -- in the case of material
implication, for the truth of the conditional no connection (or better, Kant’s
relation) of content between antecedent and consequent is required. Uttered or
emitted during the day, e. g. ‘If virtue
benefits, it is day’ is Philonianly true. This introduces a variant of the
so-called ‘paradoxes’ of material implication (Relevance Logic, Conditionals 2.3;
also, English Oxonian philosopher Lemmon 59-60, 82). This or that ancient
philosopher was aware of what he thought was a ‘problem’ for Philo’s ‘if.’
Vide: SE, ibid. 113-117). On
a second count, due to the time-dependency or relativity of the ‘Hellenistic’ ‘proposition,’
Philo's truth-functional criterion implies that ‘if p, q’ changes its truth-value
over time, which amuses Grice, but makes Strawson sick. In Philo’s infamous
metalinguistic disquotational version that Grice finds genial:‘If it is day, it
is night’ is true if it is night, but false if it is day. This is
counter-intuitive in Strawson’s “London,” urban, idiolect (Grice is from the
Heart of England) as regards an utterance in ‘ordinary-language’ involving
‘if.’“We are not THAT otiose at busy London!On a third count, as the concept of
“if” (‘doubt’ in Frisian) also meant to provide for consequentia between from a
premise to a conclusio, this leads to the “rather” problematic result –
Aquinas, S. T. ix. 34) that an ‘argumentum,’ as Boethius calls it, can in
principle change from being valid to being invalid and vice versa, which did
not please the Saint Thomas (Aquinas), “or God, matter of fact.”From Sextus: A.
M., 2.113ffA non-simple proposition is such composed of a duplicated
proposition or of this or that differing proposition. A complex proposition is
controlled by this or that conjunction. 109. Of
these let us take the hypo-thetical proposition, so-called. This, then, is
composed of a duplicated proposition or of differing propositions, by means of
the conjunction “if” (Gr. ‘ei,’ L. ‘si’, German ‘ob’). Thus, e. g. from a
duplicated proposition and the conjunction “if” (Gr. ‘ei,’ L. ‘si,’ G.
‘ob’) there is composed such a hypothetical proposition as this. “If it is day,
it is day’ (110) and from differing
propositions, and by means of the conjunction “if” , one in this
form, “If it is day, it is light.” “Si dies est, lucet.” And of the two propositions
contained in the hypo-thetical proposition, or subordinating clause that which
is placed immediately AFTER the conjunction or subordinating particle “if”
is called “ante-cedent,” or “first;” and ‘if’ being ‘noncommutative,’ and
the other one “consequent” or “second,” EVEN if the whole proposition
is reversed IN ORDER OF EXPRESSION – this is a conceptual issue, not a
grammatical one! -- as thus — “It is light, if it is day.” For in this,
too, the proposition, “It is light,” (lucet) is called consequent although
it is UTTERED first, and ‘It is day’ antecedent, although it is UTTERED second,
owing to the fact that it is placed after the conjunction or subordinating
particle “if.” 111. Such
then is the construction of the hypothetical proposition, and a proposition of
this kind seems to “promise” (or suggest, or implicate) that the ‘consequent’
(or super-ordinated or main proposition) logically follows the ‘antecedens,’ or
sub-ordinated proposition. If the antecedens is true, the consequens is true.
Hence, if this sort of “promise,” suggestio, implicaturum, or what have you, is
fulfilled and the consequens follows the antecedent, the hypothetical
proposition is true. If the promise is not fulfilled, it is false (This is
something Strawson grants as a complication in the sentence exactly after the
passage that Grice extracts – Let’s revise Strawson’s exact wording. Strawson
writes:“There is much more to be noted about ‘if.’ In particular, about whether
the antecedens has to be a ‘GOOD’ antecedens, i. e. a ‘good’ ground – not
inadmissible evidence, say -- or good reason for accepting the consequens, and
whether THIS is a necessary condition for the whole ‘if’ utterance to be TRUE.’
Surely not for Philo. Philo’s criterion is that an ‘if’ utterance is true iff it
is NOT the case that the antecedens is true and it is not the case that the
consequens is true. 112. Accordingly,
let us begin at once with this problem, and consider whether any hypothetical
proposition can be found which is true and which fulfills the promise or
suggestio or implicaturum described. Now all philosophers agree that a hypothetical
proposition is true when the consequent follows the antecedent. As to when the
consequens follows from the antecedens philosophers such as Grice and his tutee
Strawson disagree with one another and propound conflicting criteria. 113. Philo and Grice declares
that the ‘if’ utterance is true whenever it is not the case that the
antecedens (“Smith is in London”) is true and it is not the case that the
consequens (“Smith is in London attending a meeting”) is true. So that,
according to Grice and Philo (vide, “The influence of Grice on Philo”), the
hypothetical is true in three ways or rows (row 1, row 3, and row 4) and false
in one way or row (second row, antecedens T and consequence F). For the first
row, whenever the ‘if’ utterance begins with truth and ends in truth it is
true. E. g. “If it is day, it is light.” “Si dies est, lux est.”For row 4: the
‘if’ utterance is also true whenever the antecedens is false and the consequens
is false. E. g. “If the earth flies, the earth has wings.” ει
πέταται ή γή, πτέρυγας έχει
ή γή (“ei petatai he ge, pteguras ekhei
he ge”) (Si terra volat, habet alas.”)114. Likewise
also that which begins with what is false and ends with what is true is true,
as thus — If the earth flies, the earth exists. “Si terra volat, est terra”.
dialecticis,
in quibus ſubtilitatem nimiam laudando, niſi fallimur, tradu xit Callimachus. 2
Cujus I. ſpecimen nobis fervavit se XTVS EMPI . RIC V S , a qui de Diodori,
Philonis & Chryſippi diſſenſu circa propofi tiones connexas prolixe
diſſerit. Id quod paucis ita comprehendit ci . CERO : 6 In hoc ipfo , quod in
elementis dialectici docent, quomodo judi care oporteat, verum falſumne fit ,
fi quid ita connexum eſt , ut hoc: fi dies eft, lucet, quanta contentio eft,
aliter Diodoro, aliter Philoni, Chry fappo aliter placet. Quæ ut clarius
intelligantur, obſervandum eſt, Dia lecticos in propofitionum conditionatarum ,
quas connexas vocabant, explicatione in eo convenisse, verum esse consequens,
si id vera consequentia deducatur ex antecedente; falsum, si non ſequatur; in
criterio vero , ex quo dijudicanda est consequentiæ veritas, definiendo inter
se diſſenſiſſe. Et Philo quidem veram esse propoſitionem connexam putabat, fi
& antecedens & consequens verum esset , & ſi antecedens atque conſequens
falsum eſſet, & fi a falſo incipiens in verum defineret, cujus primi
exemplum eſt : “Si dies est, lux est,” secondi. “Si terra volat, habet alas.”
Tertii. “Si terra volat, est terra.” Solum vero falsum , quando incipiens a
vero defineret in falſum . Diodorus autem hoc falſum interdum eſſe, quod
contingere pof ſet, afferens, omne quod contigit , ex confequentiæ complexu
removit , ficque, quod juxta Philonem verum eft, fi dies eſt, ego diſſero,
falſum eſſe pronunciavit, quoniam contingere poffit, ut quis, ſi dies fit, non
differat, ſed fileat. Ex qua Dialecticorum diſceptatione Sextus infert,
incertum eſſe criterium propoſitionum hypotheticarum . Ex quibus parca , ut de
bet, manu prolatis, judicium fieri poteſt , quam miſeranda facies fuerit shia
lecticæ eriſticæ , quæ ad materiam magis argumentorum , quam ad formam - &
ad verba magis, quam ideas, quæ ratiocinia conſtituunt refpiciens, non potuit
non innumeras ſine modo & ratione technias & difficultates ftruere,
facile fumi inſtar diſſipandas, fi ad ipſam ratiocinandi & ideas inter ſe
con ferendi & ex tertia judicandi formam attendatur. Quod fi enim inter ve
ritate conſequentiæ & confequentis, ( liceat pauliſper cum ſcholaſticis
barbare loqui diſtinxiffent, inanis diſputatio in pulverem abiiffet, & eva
nuiſſet; nam de prima Diodorus, de altera Philo , & hic quidem inepte &
minus accurate loquebatur. Sed hæc ws šv zapóów . Ceterum II. in fo phiſma t)
Coutra Gramm . S.309.Log. I. II.S. 115.Seqq. ) Catalogum Diodororum ſatis
longum exhi # Nominateas CLEM . ALE X. Strom . I. IV . ber FABRIC. Bibl.Gr.
vol. II. p . 775. pag. 522. % ) Cujusverſus vide apud LAERT. & SEXT. *
Contra Iovinian . I. I. conf. MENAG. ad l. c. H . cc. Laërt . & Hiſt. phil.
mal. Ø . 60 . ubi tamen quatuor A ) Adv. Logic. I. c . noininat, cum quinque
fuerint. b ) Acad. 29. I. IV . 6. 47. DE SECTAM E GARICA phiſinatibus ftruendis
Diodorum excelluiffe, non id folum argumentum eft, nuod is quibusdam auctor
argumenti, quod velatum dicitur , fuifle aflera tur, fed & quod argumentum
dominans invexerit, de quo, ne his nugis lectori moleſti fimus, Epictetum apud
ARRIANVM conſuli velimus. Er ad hæc quoque Dialecticæ peritiæ acumina
referendum eſt argumentum , quo nihilmoveri probabat. Quod ita sexTvs enarrat:
Si quid move tur, aut in eo , in quo eft , loco movetur, aut in eo , in quo non
eſt. At neque in quo eſt movetur, manet enim in eo , fi in eo eft ; nec vero ,
in quo non eſt,movetur; ubi enim aliquid non eſt, ibi neque agere quidquam ne
que pati poteft. Non ergo movetur quicquam . Quo argumento non ideo ufus eſt
Diodorus, quod putat Sextus, ut more Eleaticorum probaret : non darimotum in
rerum natura, & nec interire quicquam nec oriri ; fed ut ſubtilitatem
ingenii dialecticam oftenderet, verbisque circumveniret. Qua ratione Diodorum
mire depexum dedit Herophilusmedicus. Cum enim luxato humero ad eum veniffet
Diodorus, ut ipſum curaret , facete eum irriſit, eodem argumento probando
humerum non excidiffe : adeo ut precaretur fophifta , omiffis iis
cavillationibus adhiberet ei congruens ex artemedica remedium . f . . Tandem
& III . inter atomiſticæ p hiloſophiæ ſectatores numerari folet Diodorus,
eo quod énocy iso xei dueen CÁMata minima & indiviſibilia cor pora
Itatuerit,numero infinita , magnitudine finita , ut ex veteribus afferunt
præter SEXTVM , & EVSEBIVŠ, \ CHALCIDIVS, ISTOBAEVS k alii , quibus ex
recentioribus concinunt cvDWORTHVS 1 & FABRICIV'S. * Quia vero veteres non
addunt, an indiviſibilia & minima ifta corpuſcula , omnibus qualitatibus
præter figuram & fitum fpoliata poſuerit, fine formi dine oppoſiti inter
ſyſtematis atomiſtici fectatores numerari non poteſt. Nam alii quoque
philoſophi ejusmodi infecabilia corpuſcula admiſerunt ; nec tamen atomos
Democriticos ſtatuerunt. "Id quod acute monuit cel. MOSHEMIV S . n . irAnd it is false only in this one way, when it begins with
truth and ends in what is false, as in a proposition of this kind. “If it is
day, it is night.” “Si dies est, nox est”. (Cf. Cole Porter, “Night and day, day and
night!”.For if it IS day, the clause ‘It is day’ is true, and this is
the antecedent, but the clause ‘It is night,’ which is the consequens, is
false. But when uttered at night, it is true. 115. —
But Diodorus asserts that the hypothetical proposition is true which
neither admitted nor admits of beginning with truth and ending in
falsehood. And this is in conflict with the statement of Philo. For a
hypothetical of this kind — If it is day, I am conversing, when at
the present moment it is day and I am conversing, is true according to Philo
since it begins with the true clause It is day and ends with the
true I am conversing; but according to Diodorus it is false, for it admits
of beginning with a clause that is, at one time, true and ending in the false
clause I am conversing, when I have ceased speaking; also it admitted
of beginning with truth and ending with the falsehood I am
conversing, 116. for before I began to
converse it began with the truth It is day and ended in the
falsehood I am conversing. Again, a proposition in this form
— If it is night, I am conversing, when it is day and I am silent, is
likewise true according to Philo, for it begins with what is false and ends in
what is false; but according to Diodorus it is false, for it admits of
beginning with truth and ending in falsehood, after night has come on, and when
I, again, am not conversing but keeping silence. 117. Moreover,
the proposition If it is night, it is day, when it is day, is true
according to Philo for the reason that it begins with the false It is
night and ends in the true It is day; but according to Diodorus it is
false for the reason that it admits of beginning, when night comes on, with the
truth It is night and ending in the falsehood It is day.Philo is
sometimes called ‘Philo of Megara,’ where ‘of’ is used alla Nancy Mitford, of
Chatworth. Although no essay by Philo is preserved (if he wrote it), there are
a number of reports of his doctrine, not all positive!Some think Philo made a
groundbreaking contribution to the development of semantics (influencing
Peirce, but then Peirce was influenced by the World in its totality), in
particular to the philosophy of “as if” (als ob), or “if.”A conditional (sunêmmenon), as Philo calls it, is a
non-simple, i. e. molecular, non atomic, proposition composed of two
propositions, a main, or better super-ordinated proposition, or consequens, and
a sub-ordinated proposition, the antecedens, and the subordinator ‘if’. Philo
invented (possibly influenced by Frege) what he (Frege, not Philo) calls
truth-functionality.Philo puts forward a criterion of truth as he called what
Witters will have as a ‘truth table’ for ‘if’ (or ‘ob,’ cognate with Frisian
gif, doubt).A conditional is is true in three truth-value combinations, and
false when and only when its antecedent is true and
its consequent is false.The Philonian ‘if’ Whitehead and Russell re-labelled
‘material’ implication – irritating Johnson who published a letter in The
Times, “… and dealing with the paradox of implication.”For Philo, like Grice, a
proposition is a function of time that can have different truth-values at
different times—it may change its truth-value over time. In Philo’s
disquotational formula for ‘if’:“If it is day, ‘if it is day, it is night’ is
false; if it is night, ‘if it is day, it is night’ is true.”(Tarski translated
to Polish, in which language Grice read it).Philo’s ramblings on ‘if’ lead to
foreshadows of Whitehead’s and Russell’s ‘paradox of implication’ that
infuriated Johnson – In Russell’s response in the Times, he makes it plain:
“Johnson shouldn’t be using ‘paradox’ in the singular. Yours, etc. Baron
Russell, Belgravia.”Sextus Empiricus [S. E.] M. 8.109–117, gives a precis of Johnson’s paradox of
implication, without crediting Johnson. Philo and Diodorus each considered the
four modalities possibility, impossibility, necessity and non-necessity. These
were conceived of as modal properties or modal values of propositions, not as
modal operators. Philo defined them as follows: ‘Possible is that which is
capable of being true by the proposition’s own nature … necessary is that which
is true, and which, as far as it is in itself, is not capable of being false.
Non-necessary is that which as far as it is in itself, is capable of being
false, and impossible is that which by its own nature is not capable of being
true.’ Boethius fell in love with Philo, and he SAID it! (In Arist. De Int., sec. ed., 234–235
Meiser).Cf. (Epict. Diss.
II.19). Aristotle’s De
Interpretatione 9 (Aulus
Gellius 11.12.2–3). Grice: “Vision was always held by philosophers to be the
superior sense.” Grice:
“Perception is, strictly, the extraction and use of information about one’s
environment exteroception and one’s own body interoception. “ he various
external senses sight, hearing, touch,
smell, and taste though they overlap to
some extent, are distinguished by the kind of information e.g., about light,
sound, temperature, pressure they deliver. Proprioception, perception of the
self, concerns stimuli arising within, and carrying information about, one’s
own body e.g., acceleration, position,
and orientation of the limbs. There are distinguishable stages in the
extraction and use of sensory information, one an earlier stage corresponding
to our perception of objects and events, the other, a later stage, to the
perception of facts about these objects. We see, e.g., both the cat on the sofa
an object and that the cat is on the sofa a fact. Seeing an object or
event a cat on the sofa, a person on the
street, or a vehicle’s movement does not
require that the object event be identified or recognized in any particular way
perhaps, though this is controversial, in any way whatsoever. One can, e.g.,
see a cat on the sofa and mistake it for a rumpled sweater. Airplane lights are
often misidentified as stars, and one can see the movement of an object either
as the movement of oneself or under some viewing conditions as expansion or
contraction. Seeing objects and events is, in this sense, non-epistemic: one
can see O without knowing or believing that it is O that one is seeing. Seeing
facts, on the other hand, is epistemic; one cannot see that there is a cat on
the sofa without, thereby, coming to know that there is a cat on the sofa.
Seeing a fact is coming to know the fact in some visual way. One can see
objects the fly in one’s soup, e.g., without realizing that there is a fly in one’s
soup thinking, perhaps, it is a bean or a crouton; but to see a fact, the fact
that there is a fly in one’s soup is, necessarily, to know it is a fly. This
distinction applies to the other sense modalities as well. One can hear the
telephone ringing without realizing that it is the telephone perhaps it’s the
TV or the doorbell, but to hear a fact, that it is the telephone that is
ringing, is, of necessity, to know that it is the telephone that is ringing.
The other ways we have of describing what we perceive are primarily variations
on these two fundamental themes. In seeing where he went, when he left, who
went with him, and how he was dressed, e.g., we are describing the perception
of some fact of a certain sort without revealing exactly which fact it is. If
Martha saw where he went, then Martha saw hence, came to know some fact having
to do with where he went, some fact of the form ‘he went there’. In speaking of
states and conditions the condition of his room, her injury, and properties the
color of his tie, the height of the building, we sometimes, as in the case of
objects, mean to be describing a non-epistemic perceptual act, one that carries
no implications for what if anything is known. In other cases, as with facts,
we mean to be describing the acquisition of some piece of knowledge. One can
see or hear a word without recognizing it as a word it might be in a foreign
language, but can one see a misprint and not know it is a misprint? It
obviously depends on what one uses ‘misprint’ to refer to: an object a word
that is misprinted or a fact the fact that it is misprinted. In examining and
evaluating theories whether philosophical or psychological of perception it is
essential to distinguish fact perception from object perception. For a theory
might be a plausible theory about the perception of objects e.g., psychological
theories of “early vision” but not at all plausible about our perception of
facts. Fact perception, involving, as it does, knowledge and, hence, belief
brings into play the entire cognitive system memory, concepts, etc. in a way
the former does not. Perceptual relativity
e.g., the idea that what we perceive is relative to our language, our
conceptual scheme, or the scientific theories we have available to “interpret”
phenomena is quite implausible as a
theory about our perception of objects. A person lacking a word for, say,
kumquats, lacking this concept, lacking a scientific way of classifying these
objects are they a fruit? a vegetable? an animal?, can still see, touch, smell,
and taste kumquats. Perception of objects does not depend on, and is therefore
not relative to, the observer’s linguistic, conceptual, cognitive, and
scientific assets or shortcomings. Fact perception, however, is another matter.
Clearly one cannot see that there are kumquats in the basket as opposed to
seeing the objects, the kumquats, in the basket if one has no idea of, no
concept of, what a kumquat is. Seeing facts is much more sensitive and, hence,
relative to the conceptual resources, the background knowledge and scientific
theories, of the observer, and this difference must be kept in mind in
evaluating claims about perceptual relativity. Though it does not make objects
invisible, ignorance does tend to make facts perceptually inaccessible. There
are characteristic experiences associated with the different senses. Tasting a
kumquat is not at all like seeing a kumquat although the same object is
perceived indeed, the same fact that it
is a kumquat may be perceived. The
difference, of course, is in the subjective experience one has in perceiving
the kumquat. A causal theory of perception of objects holds that the perceptual
object, what it is we see, taste, smell, or whatever, is that object that
causes us to have this subjective experience. Perceiving an object is that
object’s causing in the right way one to have an experience of the appropriate
sort. I see a bean in my soup if it is, in fact whether I know it or not is
irrelevant, a bean in my soup that is causing me to have this visual
experience. I taste a bean if, in point of fact, it is a bean that is causing
me to have the kind of taste experience I am now having. If it is unknown to me
a bug, not a bean, that is causing these experiences, then I am unwittingly
seeing and tasting a bug perhaps a bug
that looks and tastes like a bean. What object we see taste, smell, etc. is
determined by the causal facts in question. What we know and believe, how we
interpret the experience, is irrelevant, although it will, of course, determine
what we say we see and taste. The same is to be said, with appropriate changes,
for our perception of facts the most significant change being the replacement
of belief for experience. I see that there is a bug in my soup if the fact that
there is a bug in my soup causes me to perception perception 655 655 believe that there is a bug in my soup.
I can taste that there is a bug in my soup when this fact causes me to have
this belief via some taste sensation. A causal theory of perception is more
than the claim that the physical objects we perceive cause us to have
experiences and beliefs. This much is fairly obvious. It is the claim that this
causal relation is constitutive of perception, that necessarily, if S sees O,
then O causes a certain sort of experience in S. It is, according to this
theory, impossible, on conceptual grounds, to perceive something with which one
has no causal contact. If, e.g., future events do not cause present events, if
there is no backward causation, then we cannot perceive future events and objects.
Whether or not future facts can be perceived or known depends on how liberally
the causal condition on knowledge is interpreted. Though conceding that there
is a world of mind-independent objects trees, stars, people that cause us to
have experiences, some philosophers
traditionally called representative realists argue that we nonetheless do not directly
perceive these external objects. What we directly perceive are the effects
these objects have on us an internal
image, idea, or impression, a more or less depending on conditions of
observation accurate representation of the external reality that helps produce
it. This subjective, directly apprehended object has been called by various
names: a sensation, percept, sensedatum, sensum, and sometimes, to emphasize
its representational aspect, Vorstellung G., ‘representation’. Just as the
images appearing on a television screen represent their remote causes the
events occurring at some distant concert hall or playing field, the images
visual, auditory, etc. that occur in the mind, the sensedata of which we are
directly aware in normal perception, represent or sometimes, when things are
not working right, misrepresent their external physical causes. The
representative realist typically invokes arguments from illusion, facts about
hallucination, and temporal considerations to support his view. Hallucinations
are supposed to illustrate the way we can have the same kind of experience we
have when as we commonly say we see a real bug without there being a real bug in
our soup or anywhere else causing us to have the experience. When we
hallucinate, the bug we “see” is, in fact, a figment of our own imagination, an
image i.e., sense-datum in the mind that, because it shares some of the
properties of a real bug shape, color, etc., we might mistake for a real bug.
Since the subjective experiences can be indistinguishable from that which we
have when as we commonly say we really see a bug, it is reasonable to infer the
representative realist argues that in normal perception, when we take ourselves
to be seeing a real bug, we are also directly aware of a buglike image in the
mind. A hallucination differs from a normal perception, not in what we are
aware of in both cases it is a sense-datum but in the cause of these experiences.
In normal perception it is an actual bug; in hallucination it is, say, drugs in
the bloodstream. In both cases, though, we are caused to have the same thing:
an awareness of a buglike sense-datum, an object that, in normal perception, we
naively take to be a real bug thus saying, and encouraging our children to say,
that we see a bug. The argument from illusion points to the fact that our
experience of an object changes even when the object that we perceive or say we
perceive remains unchanged. Though the physical object the bug or whatever
remains the same color, size, and shape, what we experience according to this
argument changes color, shape, and size as we change the lighting, our viewing
angle, and distance. Hence, it is concluded, what we experience cannot really
be the physical object itself. Since it varies with changes in both object and
viewing conditions, what we experience must be a causal result, an effect, of
both the object we commonly say we see the bug and the conditions in which we view
it. This internal effect, it is concluded, is a sense-datum. Representative
realists have also appealed to the fact that perceiving a physical object is a
causal process that takes time. This temporal lag is most dramatic in the case
of distant objects e.g., stars, but it exists for every physical object it
takes time for a neural signal to be transmitted from receptor surfaces to the
brain. Consequently, at the moment a short time after light leaves the object’s
surface we see a physical object, the object could no longer exist. It could
have ceased to exist during the time light was being transmitted to the eye or
during the time it takes the eye to communicate with the brain. Yet, even if
the object ceases to exist before we become aware of anything before a visual
experience occurs, we are, or so it seems, aware of something when the causal
process reaches its climax in the brain. This something of which we are aware,
since it cannot be the physical object it no longer exists, must be a
sense-datum. The representationalist concludes in this “time-lag argument,”
therefore, that even when the physperception perception 656 656 ical object does not cease to exist
this, of course, is the normal situation, we are directly aware, not of it, but
of its slightly later-occurring representation. Representative realists differ
among themselves about the question of how much if at all the sense-data of
which we are aware resemble the external objects of which we are not aware.
Some take the external cause to have some of the properties the so-called
primary properties of the datum e.g., extension and not others the so-called
secondary properties e.g., color. Direct
or naive realism shares with representative realism a commitment to a world of
independently existing objects. Both theories are forms of perceptual realism.
It differs, however, in its view of how we are related to these objects in
ordinary perception. Direct realists deny that we are aware of mental
intermediaries sensedata when, as we ordinarily say, we see a tree or hear the
telephone ring. Though direct realists differ in their degree of naïveté about
how and in what respect perception is supposed to be direct, they need not be
so naive as sometimes depicted as to deny the scientific facts about the causal
processes underlying perception. Direct realists can easily admit, e.g., that
physical objects cause us to have experiences of a particular kind, and that
these experiences are private, subjective, or mental. They can even admit that
it is this causal relationship between object and experience that constitutes
our seeing and hearing physical objects. They need not, in other words, deny a
causal theory of perception. What they must deny, if they are to remain direct
realists, however, is an analysis of the subjective experience that objects
cause us to have into an awareness of some object. For to understand this
experience as an awareness of some object is, given the wholly subjective
mental character of the experience itself, to interpose a mental entity what
the experience is an awareness of between the perceiver and the physical object
that causes him to have this experience, the physical object that is supposed
to be directly perceived. Direct realists, therefore, avoid analyzing a
perceptual experience into an act sensing, being aware of, being acquainted
with and an object the sensum, sense-datum, sensation, mental representation.
The experience we are caused to have when we perceive a physical object or
event is, instead, to be understood in some other way. The adverbial theory is
one such possibility. As the name suggests, this theory takes its cue from the
way nouns and adjectives can sometimes be converted into adverbs without loss
of descriptive content. So, for instance, it comes to pretty much the same
thing whether we describe a conversation as animated adjective or say that we
conversed animatedly an adverb. So, also, according to an adverbialist, when,
as we commonly say, we see a red ball, the red ball causes in us a moment later
an experience, yes, but not as the representative realist says an awareness
mental act of a sense-datum mental object that is red and circular adjectives.
The experience is better understood as one in which there is no object at all,
as sensing redly and circularly adverbs. The adverbial theorist insists that
one can experience circularly and redly without there being, in the mind or
anywhere else, red circles this, in fact, is what the adverbialist thinks
occurs in dreams and hallucinations of red circles. To experience redly is not
to have a red experience; nor is it to experience redness in the mind. It is,
says the adverbialist, a way or a manner of perceiving ordinary objects
especially red ones seen in normal light. Just as dancing gracefully is not a
thing we dance, so perceiving redly is not a thing and certainly not a red thing in the
mind that we experience. The adverbial
theory is only one option the direct realist has of acknowledging the causal
basis of perception while, at the same time, maintaining the directness of our
perceptual relation with independently existing objects. What is important is
not that the experience be construed adverbially, but that it not be
interpreted, as representative realists interpret it, as awareness of some
internal object. For a direct realist, the appearances, though they are
subjective mind-dependent are not objects that interpose themselves between the
conscious mind and the external world. As classically understood, both naive
and representative realism are theories about object perception. They differ
about whether it is the external object or an internal object an idea in the
mind that we most directly apprehend in ordinary sense perception. But they
need not although they usually do differ in their analysis of our knowledge of
the world around us, in their account of fact perception. A direct realist
about object perception may, e.g., be an indirect realist about the facts that
we know about these objects. To see, not only a red ball in front of one, but
that there is a red ball in front of one, it may be necessary, even on a direct
theory of object perception, to infer or in some way derive this fact from
facts that are known more directly perception perception about one’s
experiences of the ball. Since, e.g., a direct theorist may be a causal
theorist, may think that seeing a red ball is in part constituted by the having
of certain sorts of experience, she may insist that knowledge of the cause of
these experiences must be derived from knowledge of the experience itself. If
one is an adverbialist, e.g., one might insist that knowledge of physical
objects is derived from knowledge of how redly? bluely? circularly? squarely?
one experiences these objects. By the same token, a representative realist
could adopt a direct theory of fact perception. Though the objects we directly
see are mental, the facts we come to know by experiencing these subjective
entities are facts about ordinary physical objects. We do not infer at least at
no conscious level that there is a bug in our soup from facts known more
directly about our own conscious experiences from facts about the sensations
the bug causes in us. Rather, our sensations cause us, directly, to have
beliefs about our soup. There is no intermediate belief; hence, there is no
intermediate knowledge; hence, no intermediate fact perception. Fact perception
is, in this sense, direct. Or so a representative realist can maintain even
though committed to the indirect perception of the objects bug and soup
involved in this fact. This merely illustrates, once again, the necessity of
distinguishing object perception from fact perception. Refs.: H. P. Grice and
A. R. White, “The causal theory of perception,” a symposium for the
Aristotelian Socieety, in G. J. Warnock, “The philosophy of perception,” Oxford
readings in philosophy.
Percival: English physician and author of
Medical Ethics. He was central in bringing the Western traditions of medical
ethics from prayers and oaths e.g., the Hippocratic oath toward more detailed,
modern codes of proper professional conduct. His writing on the normative
aspects of medical practice was part ethics, part prudential advice, part
professional etiquette, and part jurisprudence. Medical Ethics treated
standards for the professional conduct of physicians relative to surgeons and
apothecaries pharmacists and general practitioners, as well as hospitals,
private practice, and the law. The issues Percival addressed include privacy,
truth telling, rules for professional consultation, human experimentation, public
and private trust, compassion, sanity, suicide, abortion, capital punishment,
and environmental nuisances. Percival had his greatest influence in England and
America. At its founding in 1847, the
Medical Association used Medical Ethics to guide its own first code of
medical ethics.
perdurance, endurance, continuance -- in one common philosophical use, the property
of being temporally continuous and having temporal parts. There are at least
two conflicting theories about temporally continuous substances. According to
the first, temporally continuous substances have temporal parts they perdure,
while according to the second, they do not. In one ordinary philosophical use,
endurance is the property of being temporally continuous and not having temporal
parts. There are modal versions of the aforementioned two theories: for
example, one version of the first theory is that necessarily, temporally
continuous substances have temporal parts, while another version implies that
possibly, they do not. Some versions of the first theory hold that a temporally
continuous substance is composed of instantaneous temporal parts or
“object-stages,” while on other versions these object-stages are not parts but
boundaries.
perfect competition: perfect co-operation:
the state of an ideal market under the following conditions: a every consumer
in the market is a perfectly rational maximizer of utility; every producer is a
perfect maximizer of profit; there is a very large ideally infinite number of
producers of the good in question, which ensures that no producer can set the
price for its output otherwise, an imperfect competitive state of oligopoly or
monopoly obtains; and every producer provides a product perfectly
indistinguishable from that of other producers if consumers could distinguish
products to the point that there was no longer a very large number of producers
for each distinguishable good, competition would again be imperfect. Under
these conditions, the market price is equal to the marginal cost of producing the
last unit. This in turn determines the market supply of the good, since each
producer will gain by increasing production when price exceeds marginal cost
and will generally cut losses by decreasing production when marginal cost
exceeds price. Perfect competition is sometimes thought to have normative
implications for political philosophy, since it results in Pareto optimality.
The concept of perfect competition becomes extremely complicated when a
market’s evolution is considered. Producers who cannot equate marginal cost
with the market price will have negative profit and must drop out of the
market. If this happens very often, then the number of producers will no longer
be large enough to sustain perfect competition, so new producers will need to
enter the market.
perfectus – finitum – complete -- perfectionism,
an ethical view according to which individuals and their actions are judged by
a maximal standard of achievement
specifically, the degree to which they approach ideals of aesthetic,
intellectual, emotional, or physical “perfection.” Perfectionism, then, may
depart from, or even dispense with, standards of conventional morality in favor
of standards based on what appear to be non-moral values. These standards
reflect an admiration for certain very rare levels of human achievement.
Perhaps the most characteristic of these standards are artistic and other forms
of creativity; but they prominently include a variety of other activities and
emotional states deemed “noble” e.g.,
heroic endurance in the face of great suffering. The perfectionist, then, would
also tend toward a rather non-egalitarian
even aristocratic view of
humankind. The rare genius, the inspired few, the suffering but courageous
artist these examples of human
perfection are genuinely worthy of our estimation, according to this view.
Although no fully worked-out system of “perfectionist philosophy” has been
attempted, aspects of all of these doctrines may be found in such philosophers
as Nietzsche. Aristotle, as well, appears to endorse a perfectionist idea in
his characterization of the human good. Just as the good lyre player not only
exhibits the characteristic activities of this profession but achieves
standards of excellence with respect to these, the good human being, for Aristotle,
must achieve standards of excellence with respect to the virtue or virtues
distinctive of human life in general.
peripatos at the lycaeum – Grice: “This is
a common word, and while it does mean that, being a covered pathway, you are
meant to walk about, it did not apply as per my type of identificatory
reference, to Aristotle. It was that bit of the gym created by Pericle and
iproved by Lycurgus in the ‘middle of nowhere’ mount of Licabetto. Aristotle
may have chosen the site because Socrate, his tutor’s tutor, used to walk all
the way form downtown to corrupt the athletes!” -- peripatetic – lycaeum -- School,
also called Peripatos, the philosophical playgroup founded by Aristotle at the
Lycaeum gymnasium in Athens. The derivation of ‘Peripatetic’ from the alleged
Aristotelian custom of “walking about, “peripatein,” is, while colourful,
wrong. ‘Peripatos’ is in Griceian a “covered walking hall” – which is among the
facilities, “as the excavations show,” as Grice notes. A scholarch or head-master
presided over roughly two classes of members. One is the “presbyteroi” or
seniors, who have this or that teaching dutu, and the “neaniskoi” or juniors. Grice:
“When Austin instituted the playgroup he saw himself as *the* presbyteros,
while I, like the others, was a ‘neaniskos.”” No females were allowed, to avoid
disruption. During Aristotle’s lifetime his own lectures, whether for the inner
circle of the school (what Aristotle calls ‘the gown’) or for Athens (‘the
town’) at large, are probably the key attraction and core activity. Given
Aristotle’s celebrated knack for organizing group research projects, we may
assume that Peripatetics spent much of their time working on their own specific
assignments either at the swimming-pool library, or at some kind of repository
for specimens used in zoological and botanical investigations. As a foreigner,
Aristotle cannot possibly own any property in Athens. When he left Athens (pretty much as when Austin died) Theophrastus
of Eresus (pretty much like Grice did) succeeded him as scholarch. Theophrastus
is s an able Aristotelian (whereas Grice started to criticise Austin) who wrote
extensively on metaphysics, psychology, physiology, botany, ethics, politics,
and the history of philosophy. With the help of the Peripatetic dictator
Demetrius of Phaleron, Theophrastus was able to secure property rights over the
physical facilities of the school. Under Theophrastus, the Peripatos continued
to flourish and is said to have had 2,000 students. Theophrastus’s successor,
Strato of Lampsakos, has much narrower interests and abandoned key Aristotelian
tenets (such as the syllogism – “I won’t force Aristotle to teach me how to
reason with a middle term in the middle!” – Diog. Laert. v. 673b-c. With
Strato, a progressive decline set in, to which the moving of Aristotle’s swimming-pool
library out of Athens (minus the swimming-pool) by Neleus of Skepsis, certainly
contributed. By the first century B.C. the Peripatos had ceased to exist. “Philosophers
of later periods sympathetic to Aristotle’s views have also been called
Peripatetics; I fact, *I* have, by A. D. Code, of all people!” – Refs.: H. P.
Grice, “How to become a Peripatetic – and not die in the attempt.”
Perone: important Italian
philosopher – Refs.: Luigi Speranza, "Grice e Perone," per il Club
Anglo-Italiano, The Swimming-Pool Library, Villa Grice, Liguria, Italia.
idem: Grice: “A very,
untranslatable Roman notion – no translation – but cf. ‘ipse,’ ‘same,’ self’,
and ‘sameself,’ and Peano’s = may do.” personal identity: explored by H. P.
Grice in “Personal Identity,” Mind – and H. P. Grice, “The logical construction
theory of personal identity,” and “David Hume on the vagaries of personal
identity.” -- the numerical identity over time of persons. The question of what
personal identity consists in is the question of what it is what the necessary
and sufficient conditions are for a person existing at one time and a person
existing at another time to be one and the same person. Here there is no
question of there being any entity that is the “identity” of a person; to say
that a person’s identity consists in such and such is just shorthand for saying
that facts about personal identity, i.e., facts to the effect that someone
existing at one time is the same as someone existing at another time, consist
in such and such. This should not be confused with the usage, common in
ordinary speech and in psychology, in which persons are said to have
identities, and, sometimes, to seek, lose, or regain their identities, where
one’s “identity” intimately involves a set of values and goals that structure
one’s life. The words ‘identical’ and ‘same’ mean nothing different in
judgments about persons than in judgments about other things. The problem of
personal identity is therefore not one of defining a special sense of
‘identical,’ and it is at least misleading to characterize it as defining a
particular kind of identity. Applying Quine’s slogan “no entity without
identity,” one might say that characterizing any sort of entity involves
indicating what the identity conditions for entities of that sort are so, e.g.,
part of the explanation of the concept of a set is that sets having the same
members are identical, and that asking what the identity of persons consists in
is just a way of asking what sorts of things persons are. But the main focus in
traditional discussions of the topic has been on one kind of identity judgment
about persons, namely those asserting “identity over time”; the question has
been about what the persistence of persons over time consists in. What has made
the identity persistence of persons of special philosophical interest is partly
its epistemology and partly its connections with moral and evaluative matters.
The crucial epistemological fact is that persons have, in memory, an access to
their own past histories that is unlike the access they have to the histories
of other things including other persons; when one remembers doing or
experiencing something, one normally has no need to employ any criterion of
identity in order to know that the subject of the remembered action or
experience is i.e., is identical with oneself. The moral and evaluative matters
include moral responsibility someone can be held responsible for a past action
only if he or she is identical to the person who did it and our concern for our
own survival and future well-being since it seems, although this has been
questioned, that what one wants in wanting to survive is that there should
exist in the future someone who is identical to oneself. The modern history of
the topic of personal identity begins with Locke, who held that the identity of
a person consists neither in the identity of an immaterial substance as
dualists might be expected to hold nor in the identity of a material substance
or “animal body” as materialists might be expected to hold, and that it
consists instead in “same consciousness.” His view appears to have been that
the persistence of a person through time consists in the fact that certain
actions, thoughts, experiences, etc., occurring at different times, are somehow
united in memory. Modern theories descended from Locke’s take memory continuity
to be a special case of something more general, psychological continuity, and
hold that personal identity consists in this. This is sometimes put in terms of
the notion of a “person-stage,” i.e., a momentary “time slice” of the history
of a person. A series of person-stages will be psychologically continuous if
the psychological states including memories occurring in later members of the
series grow out of, in certain characteristic ways, those occurring in earlier
members of it; and according to the psychological continuity view of personal
identity, person-stages occurring at different times are stages of the same
person provided they belong to a single, non-branching, psychologically
continuous series of person-stages. Opponents of the Lockean and neo-Lockean
psychological continuity view tend to fall into two camps. Some, following
Butler and Reid, hold that personal identity is indefinable, and that nothing
informative can be said about what it consists in. Others hold that the
identity of a person consists in some sort of physical continuity perhaps the identity of a living human
organism, or the identity of a human brain. In the actual cases we know about
putting aside issues about non-bodily survival of death, psychological
continuity and physical continuity go together. Much of the debate between
psychological continuity theories and physical continuity theories has centered
on the interpretation of thought experiments involving brain transplants,
brain-state transfers, etc., in which these come apart. Such examples make
vivid the question of whether our fundamental criteria of personal identity are
psychological, physical, or both. Recently philosophical attention has shifted
somewhat from the question of what personal identity consists in to questions
about its importance. The consideration of hypothetical cases of “fission” in
which two persons at a later time are psychologically continuous with one
person at an earlier time has suggested to some that we can have survival or at any rate what matters in survival without personal identity, and that our
self-interested concern for the future is really a concern for whatever future
persons are psychologically continuous with us.
lombardia – Grice: “If William was called
Ockham, I should be called Harborne, and Petrus Lombardia!” -- Pietro Lombardo – He was born in Novara, in
the Piedmont, then reckoned as Lombardia! -- theologian and author of the Book of Sentences
Liber sententiarum, a renowned theological sourcebook in the later Middle Ages.
Peter was educated at Bologna, Reims, and Paris before teaching in the school
of Notre Dame in Paris. He became a canon at Notre Dame in 114445 and was
elected bishop of Paris in 1159. His extant works include commentaries on the
Psalms written in the mid-1130s and on the epistles of Paul c.113941; a
collection of sermons; and his one-volume summary of Christian doctrine, the
Sentences completed by 1158. The Sentences consists of four books: Book I, On
the Trinity; Book II, On the Creation of Things; Book III, On the Incarnation;
and Book IV, “On the Doctrine of Signs or Sacraments.” His discussion is
organized around particular questions or issues e.g., “On Knowledge,
Foreknowledge, and Providence” Book I, “Is God the Cause of Evil and Sin?” Book
II. For a given issue Peter typically presents a brief summary, accompanied by
short quotations, of main positions found in Scripture and in the writings of
the church fathers and doctors, followed by his own determination or
adjudication of the matter. Himself a theological conservative, Peter seems to
have intended this sort of compilation of scriptural and ancient doctrinal
teaching as a counter to the popularity, fueled by the recent recovery of
important parts of Aristotle’s logic, of the application of dialectic to
theological matters. The Sentences enjoyed wide circulation and admiration from
the beginning, and within a century of its composition it became a standard
text in the theology curriculum. From the midthirteenth through the
mid-fourteenth century every student of theology was required, as the last
stage in obtaining the highest academic degree, to lecture and comment on Peter’s
text. Later medieval thinkers often referred to Peter as “the Master” magister,
thereby testifying to the Sentences’ preeminence in theological training. In
lectures and commentaries, the greatest minds of this period used Peter’s text
as a framework in which to develop their own original positions and debate with
their contemporaries. As a result the Sentences-commentary tradition is an
extraordinarily rich repository of later medieval philosophical and theological
thought. Refs.: Luigi Speranza, “Philosophical psychology in the commentaries
of Pietro Lombardo and Grice,” per il Club Anglo-Italiano, The Swimming-Pool
Library, Villa Grice, Liguria, Italia.
phantasia: Grice: “
“Phantasia,” as any Clifton schoolboy knows, is cognate with ‘phainomenon,’ as Cant
forgot!” -- Grecian, ‘appearance’, ‘imagination’, 1 the state we are in when
something appears to us to be the case; 2 the capacity in virtue of which
things appear to us. Although frequently used of conscious and imagistic
experiences, ‘phantasia’ is not limited to such states; in particular, it can
be applied to any propositional attitude where something is taken to be the
case. But just as the English ‘appears’ connotes that one has epistemic
reservations about what is actually the case, so ‘phantasia’ suggests the
possibility of being misled by appearances and is thus often a subject of
criticism. According to Plato, phantasia is a “mixture” of sensation and
belief; in Aristotle, it is a distinct faculty that makes truth and falsehood
possible. The Stoics take a phantasia to constitute one of the most basic
mental states, in terms of which other mental states are to be explained, and
in rational animals it bears the propositional content expressed in language.
This last use becomes prominent in ancient literary and rhetorical theory to
designate the ability of language to move us and convey subjects vividly as
well as to range beyond the bounds of our immediate experience. Here lie the
origins of the modern concept of imagination although not the Romantic
distinction between fancy and imagination. Later Neoplatonists, such as
Proclus, take phantasia to be necessary for abstract studies such as geometry,
by enabling us to envision spatial relations.
phenomenalism: one of the twelve
labours of H. P. Grice – very fashionable at Oxford – “until Austin demolished
it with his puritanical “Sense and sensibilia,” – Grice: “Strictly, it should
be ‘sense and sensibile,’ since ‘sensibilia’ is plural – which invokes Ryle’s
paradox of the speckled hen!” -- the view that propositions asserting the
existence of physical objects are equivalent in meaning to propositions
asserting that subjects would have certain sequences of sensations were they to
have certain others. The basic idea behind phenomenalism is compatible with a
number of different analyses of the self or conscious subject. A phenomenalist
might understand the self as a substance, a particular, or a construct out of
actual and possible experience. The view also is compatible with any number of
different analyses of the visual, tactile, auditory, olfactory, gustatory, and
kinesthetic sensations described in the antecedents and consequents of the
subjunctive conditionals that the phenomenalist uses to analyze physical object
propositions as illustrated in the last paragraph. Probably the most common
analysis of sensations adopted by traditional phenomenalists is a sense-datum
theory, with the sense-data construed as mind-dependent entities. But there is
nothing to prevent a phenomenalist from accepting an adverbial theory or theory
of appearing instead. The origins of phenomenalism are difficult to trace, in
part because early statements of the view were usually not careful. In his
Dialogues, Berkeley hinted at phenomenalism when he had Philonous explain how he
could reconcile an ontology containing only minds and ideas with the story of a
creation that took place before the existence of people. Philonous imagines
that if he had been present at the creation he should have seen things, i.e.,
had sensations, in the order described in the Bible. It can also be argued,
however, that J. S. Mill in An Examination of Sir William Hamilton’s Philosophy
was the first to put forth a clearly phenomenalistic analysis when he
identified matter with the “permanent possibility of sensation.” When Mill
explained what these permanent possibilities are, he typically used
conditionals that describe the sensations one would have if one were placed in
certain conditions. The attraction of classical phenomenalism grew with the
rise of logical positivism and its acceptance of the verifiability criterion of
meaning. Phenomenalists were usually foundationalists who were convinced that
justified belief in the physical world rested ultimately on our
noninferentially justified beliefs about our sensations. Implicitly committed
to the view that only deductive and inductive inferences are legitimate, and
further assuming that to be justified in believing one proposition P on the
basis of another E, one must be justified in believing both E and that E makes
P probable, the phenomenalist saw an insuperable difficulty in justifying
belief in ordinary statements about the physical world given prevalent
conceptions of physical petitio principii phenomenalism 663 663 objects. If all we ultimately have as
our evidence for believing in physical objects is what we know about the
occurrence of sensation, how can we establish sensation as evidence for the
existence of physical objects? We obviously cannot deduce the existence of
physical objects from any finite sequence of sensations. The sensations could,
e.g., be hallucinatory. Nor, it seems, can we observe a correlation between
sensation and something else in order to generate the premises of an inductive
argument for the conclusion that sensations are reliable indicators of physical
objects. The key to solving this problem, the phenomenalist argues, is to
reduce assertions about the physical world to complicated assertions about the
sequences of sensations a subject would have were he to have certain others.
The truth of such conditionals, e.g., that if I have the clear visual
impression of a cat, then there is one before me, might be mind-independent in
the way in which one wants the truth of assertions about the physical world to
be mind-independent. And to the phenomenalist’s great relief, it would seem
that we could justify our belief in such conditional statements without having
to correlate anything but sensations. Many philosophers today reject some of
the epistemological, ontological, and metaphilosophical presuppositions with
which phenomenalists approached the problem of understanding our relation to
the physical world through sensation. But the argument that was historically
most decisive in convincing many philosophers to abandon phenomenalism was the
argument from perceptual relativity first advanced by Chisholm in “The Problem
of Perception.” Chisholm offers a strategy for attacking any phenomenalistic
analysis. The first move is to force the phenomenalist to state a conditional
describing only sensations that is an alleged consequence of a physical object
proposition. C. I. Lewis, e.g., in An Analysis of Knowledge and Valuation,
claims that the assertion P that there is a doorknob before me and to the left
entails C that if I were to seem to see a doorknob and seem to reach out and
touch it then I would seem to feel it. Chisholm argues that if P really did
entail C then there could be no assertion R that when conjoined with P did not
entail C. There is, however, such an assertion: I am unable to move my limbs
and my hands but am subject to delusions such that I think I am moving them; I
often seem to be initiating a grasping motion but with no feeling of contacting
anything. Chisholm argues, in effect, that what sensations one would have if one
were to have certain others always depends in part on the internal and external
physical conditions of perception and that this fact dooms any attempt to find
necessary and sufficient conditions for the truth of a physical object
proposition couched in terms that describe only connections between
sensations.
phenomenology – Grice:
“Strictly, my area – the science of appearances!” -- referred ironically by J.
L. Austin as “linguistic phenomenology,”—Austin only accepted public-school
(“i. e. private-school) educated males at his Saturday mornings – “They share
my dialect, unlike others.” -- in the
twentieth century, the philosophy developed by Husserl and some of his
followers. The term has been used since the mideighteenth century and received
a carefully defined technical meaning in the works of both Kant and Hegel, but
it is not now used to refer to a homogeneous and systematically developed
philosophical position. The question of what phenomenology is may suggest that
phenomenology is one among the many contemporary philosophical conceptions that
have a clearly delineated body of doctrines and whose essential characteristics
can be expressed by a set of wellchosen statements. This notion is not correct,
however. In contemporary philosophy there is no system or school called
“phenomenology,” characterized by a clearly defined body of teachings.
Phenomenology is neither a school nor a trend in contemporary philosophy. It is
rather a movement whose proponents, for various reasons, have propelled it in
many distinct directions, with the result that today it means different things
to different people. While within the phenomenological movement as a whole
there are several related currents, they, too, are by no means homogeneous.
Though these currents have a common point of departure, they do not project
toward the same destination. The thinking of most phenomenologists has changed
so greatly that their respective views can be presented adequately only by showing
them in their gradual development. This is true not only for Husserl, founder
of the phenomenological movement, but also for such later phenomenologists as
Scheler, N. Hartmann, Heidegger, Sartre, and Merleau-Ponty. To anyone who
studies the phenomenological movement without prejudice the differences among
its many currents are obvious. It has been phenomenal property phenomenology
664 664 said that phenomenology
consists in an analysis and description of consciousness; it has been claimed
also that phenomenology simply blends with existentialism. Phenomenology is
indeed the study of essences, but it also attempts to place essences back into
existence. It is a transcendental philosophy interested only in what is “left
behind” after the phenomenological reduction is performed, but it also
considers the world to be already there before reflection begins. For some
philosophers phenomenology is speculation on transcendental subjectivity,
whereas for others it is a method for approaching concrete existence. Some use
phenomenology as a search for a philosophy that accounts for space, time, and
the world, just as we experience and “live” them. Finally, it has been said
that phenomenology is an attempt to give a direct description of our experience
as it is in itself without taking into account its psychological origin and its
causal explanation; but Husserl speaks of a “genetic” as well as a
“constitutive” phenomenology. To some people, finding such an abundance of
ideas about one and the same subject constitutes a strange situation; for
others it is annoying to contemplate the “confusion”; and there will be those
who conclude that a philosophy that cannot define its own scope does not
deserve the discussion that has been carried on in its regard. In the opinion
of many, not only is this latter attitude not justified, but precisely the
opposite view defended by Thevenaz should be adopted. As the term
‘phenomenology’ signifies first and foremost a methodical conception, Thevenaz
argues that because this method, originally developed for a very particular and
limited end, has been able to branch out in so many varying forms, it manifests
a latent truth and power of renewal that implies an exceptional fecundity.
Speaking of the great variety of conceptions within the phenomenological
movement, Merleau-Ponty remarked that the responsible philosopher must
recognize that phenomenology may be practiced and identified as a manner or a
style of thinking, and that it existed as a movement before arriving at a
complete awareness of itself as a philosophy. Rather than force a living
movement into a system, then, it seems more in keeping with the ideal of the
historian as well as the philosopher to follow the movement in its development,
and attempt to describe and evaluate the many branches in and through which it
has unfolded itself. In reality the picture is not as dark as it may seem at
first sight. Notwithstanding the obvious differences, most phenomenologists
share certain insights that are very important for their mutual philosophical
conception as a whole. In this connection the following must be mentioned: 1
Most phenomenologists admit a radical difference between the “natural” and the
“philosophical” attitude. This leads necessarily to an equally radical
difference between philosophy and science. In characterizing this difference
some phenomenologists, in agreement with Husserl, stress only epistemological
issues, whereas others, in agreement with Heidegger, focus their attention
exclusively on ontological topics. 2 Notwithstanding this radical difference,
there is a complicated set of relationships between philosophy and science.
Within the context of these relationships philosophy has in some sense a
foundational task with respect to the sciences, whereas science offers to
philosophy at least a substantial part of its philosophical problematic. 3 To
achieve its task philosophy must perform a certain reduction, or epoche, a
radical change of attitude by which the philosopher turns from things to their
meanings, from the ontic to the ontological, from the realm of the objectified
meaning as found in the sciences to the realm of meaning as immediately
experienced in the “life-world.” In other words, although it remains true that
the various phenomenologists differ in characterizing the reduction, no one
seriously doubts its necessity. 4 All phenomenologists subscribe to the
doctrine of intentionality, though most elaborate this doctrine in their own
way. For Husserl intentionality is a characteristic of conscious phenomena or
acts; in a deeper sense, it is the characteristic of a finite consciousness
that originally finds itself without a world. For Heidegger and most
existentialists it is the human reality itself that is intentional; as
Being-in-the-world its essence consists in its ek-sistence, i.e., in its
standing out toward the world. 5 All phenomenologists agree on the fundamental
idea that the basic concern of philosophy is to answer the question concerning
the “meaning and Being” of beings. All agree in addition that in trying to
materialize this goal the philosopher should be primarily interested not in the
ultimate cause of all finite beings, but in how the Being of beings and the
Being of the world are to be constituted. Finally, all agree that in answering
the question concerning the meaning of Being a privileged position is to be
attributed to subjectivity, i.e., to that being which questions the Being of
beings. Phenomenologists differ, however, the moment they have to specify what
is meant by subjectivity. As noted above, whereas Husserl conceives it as a
worldless monad, Heidegger and most later phenomenologists conceive it as
being-in-the-world. Referring to Heidegger’s reinterpretation of his
phenomenology, Husserl writes: one misinterprets my phenomenology backwards
from a level which it was its very purpose to overcome, in other words, one has
failed to understand the fundamental novelty of the phenomenological reduction
and hence the progress from mundane subjectivity i.e., man to transcendental
subjectivity; consequently one has remained stuck in an anthropology . . .
which according to my doctrine has not yet reached the genuine philosophical
level, and whose interpretation as philosophy means a lapse into
“transcendental anthropologism,” that is, “psychologism.” 6 All
phenomenologists defend a certain form of intuitionism and subscribe to what
Husserl calls the “principle of all principles”: “whatever presents itself in
‘intuition’ in primordial form as it were in its bodily reality, is simply to
be accepted as it gives itself out to be, though only within the limits in
which it then presents itself.” Here again, however, each phenomenologist
interprets this principle in keeping with his general conception of
phenomenology as a whole. Thus, while phenomenologists do share certain
insights, the development of the movement has nevertheless been such that it is
not possible to give a simple definition of what phenomenology is. The fact
remains that there are many phenomenologists and many phenomenologies. Therefore,
one can only faithfully report what one has experienced of phenomenology by
reading the phenomenologists. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “J. L. Austin’s linguistic
phenomenology – and conversational implicatura,” “Conversational
phenomenology.”
Philo Judaeus, philosopher who composed
the bulk of his work in the form of commentaries and discourses on Scripture.
He made the first known sustained attempt to synthesize its revealed teachings
with the doctrines of classical philosophy. Although he was not the first to
apply the methods of allegorical interpretation to Scripture, the number and
variety of his interpretations make Philo unique. With this interpretive tool,
he transformed biblical narratives into Platonic accounts of the soul’s quest
for God and its struggle against passion, and the Mosaic commandments into
specific manifestations of general laws of nature. Philo’s most influential
idea was his conception of God, which combines the personal, ethical deity of
the Bible with the abstract, transcendentalist theology of Platonism and
Pythagoreanism. The Philonic deity is both the loving, just God of the Hebrew
Patriarchs and the eternal One whose essence is absolutely unknowable and who
creates the material world by will from primordial matter which He creates ex
nihilo. Besides the intelligible realm of ideas, which Philo is the earliest
known philosopher to identify as God’s thoughts, he posited an intermediate
divine being which he called, adopting scriptural language, the logos. Although
the exact nature of the logos is hard to pin down Philo variously and, without any concern for
consistency, called it the “first-begotten Son of the uncreated Father,”
“Second God,” “idea of ideas,” “archetype of human reason,” and “pattern of
creation” its main functions are clear:
to bridge the huge gulf between the transcendent deity and the lower world and
to serve as the unifying law of the universe, the ground of its order and
rationality. A philosophical eclectic, Philo was unknown to medieval Jewish
philosophers but, beyond his anticipations of Neoplatonism, he had a lasting
impact on Christianity through Clement of Alexandria, Origen, and Ambrose.
Filolao, pre-Socratic Grecian philosopher
from Crotone in southern Italy, the first Pythagorean to write a book. The surviving
fragments of it are the earliest primary texts for Pythagoreanism, but numerous
spurious fragments have also been preserved. Philolaus’s book begins with a
cosmogony and includes astronomical, medical, and psychological doctrines. His
major innovation was to argue that the cosmos and everything in it is a
combination not just of unlimiteds what is structured and ordered, e.g.
material elements but also of limiters structural and ordering elements, e.g.
shapes. These elements are held together in a harmonia fitting together, which
comes to be in accord with perspicuous mathematical relationships, such as the
whole number ratios that correspond to the harmonic intervals e.g. octave %
phenotext Philolaus 1 : 2. He argued that secure knowledge is possible insofar
as we grasp the number in accordance with which things are put together. His
astronomical system is famous as the first to make the earth a planet. Along
with the sun, moon, fixed stars, five planets, and counter-earth thus making
the perfect number ten, the earth circles the central fire a combination of the
limiter “center” and the unlimited “fire”. Philolaus’s influence is seen in
Plato’s Philebus; he is the primary source for Aristotle’s account of
Pythagoreanism. H. P. Grice,
“Pythagoras: the written and the unwritten doctrines,” Luigi Speranza, “Grice a
Crotone, ovvero, Filolao,” per il Club Anglo-Italiano, The Swimming-Pool
Library, Villa Grice, Liguria, Italia.
vita – vitalism philosophical biology: Grice,
“What is ‘life’?” “How come the Grecians had two expressions for this: ‘zoon’
and ‘bios’?” “Why could the Romans just do with ‘vivere’?’ -- Grice liked to
regard himself as a philosophical biologist, and indeed philosophical
physiologist. bioethics, the subfield of ethics that concerns the ethical
issues arising in medicine and from advances in biological science. One central
area of bioethics is the ethical issues that arise in relations between health
care professionals and patients. A second area focuses on broader issues of
social justice in health care. A third area concerns the ethical issues raised
by new biological knowledge or technology. In relations between health care
professionals and patients, a fundamental issue is the appropriate role of each
in decision making about patient care. More traditional views assigning
principal decision-making authority to physicians have largely been replaced
with ideals of shared decision making that assign a more active role to
patients. Shared decision making is thought to reflect better the importance of
patients’ self-determination in controlling their care. This increased role for
patients is reflected in the ethical and legal doctrine of informed consent,
which requires that health care not be rendered without the informed and
voluntary consent of a competent patient. The requirement that consent be
informed places a positive responsibility on health care professionals to
provide their patients with the information they need to make informed decisions
about care. The requirement that consent be voluntary requires that treatment
not be forced, nor that patients’ decisions be coerced or manipulated. If
patients lack the capacity to make competent health care decisions, e.g. young
children or cognitively impaired adults, a surrogate, typically a parent in the
case of children or a close family member in the case of adults, must decide
for them. Surrogates’ decisions should follow the patient’s advance directive
if one exists, be the decision the patient would have made in the circumstances
if competent, or follow the patient’s best interests if the patient has never
been competent or his or her wishes are not known. A major focus in bioethics
generally, and treatment decision making in particular, is care at or near the
end of life. It is now widely agreed that patients are entitled to decide about
and to refuse, according to their own values, any lifesustaining treatment.
They are also entitled to have desired treatments that may shorten their lives,
such as high doses of pain medications necessary to relieve severe pain from
cancer, although in practice pain treatment remains inadequate for many
patients. Much more controversial is whether more active means to end life such
as physician-assisted suicide and voluntary euthanasia are morally permissible
in indibhavanga bioethics 88 88 vidual
cases or justified as public policy; both remain illegal except in a very few
jurisdictions. Several other moral principles have been central to defining
professionalpatient relationships in health care. A principle of truth telling
requires that professionals not lie to patients. Whereas in the past it was
common, especially with patients with terminal cancers, not to inform patients
fully about their diagnosis and prognosis, studies have shown that practice has
changed substantially and that fully informing patients does not have the bad
effects for patients that had been feared in the past. Principles of privacy
and confidentiality require that information gathered in the
professionalpatient relationship not be disclosed to third parties without
patients’ consent. Especially with highly personal information in mental health
care, or information that may lead to discrimination, such as a diagnosis of
AIDS, assurance of confidentiality is fundamental to the trust necessary to a
wellfunctioning professionalpatient relationship. Nevertheless, exceptions to
confidentiality to prevent imminent and serious harm to others are well
recognized ethically and legally. More recently, work in bioethics has focused
on justice in the allocation of health care. Whereas nearly all developed
countries treat health care as a moral and legal right, and ensure it to all
their citizens through some form of national health care system, in the United
States about 15 percent of the population remains without any form of health
insurance. This has fed debates about whether health care is a right or
privilege, a public or individual responsibility. Most bioethicists have
supported a right to health care because of health care’s fundamental impact on
people’s well-being, opportunity, ability to plan their lives, and even lives
themselves. Even if there is a moral right to health care, however, few defend
an unlimited right to all beneficial health care, no matter how small the
benefit and how high the cost. Consequently, it is necessary to prioritize or
ration health care services to reflect limited budgets for health care, and
both the standards and procedures for doing so are ethically controversial. Utilitarians
and defenders of cost-effectiveness analysis in health policy support using
limited resources to maximize aggregate health benefits for the population.
Their critics argue that this ignores concerns about equity, concerns about how
health care resources and health are distributed. For example, some have argued
that equity requires giving priority to treating the worst-off or sickest, even
at a sacrifice in aggregate health benefits; moreover, taking account in
prioritization of differences in costs of different treatments can lead to
ethically problematic results, such as giving higher priority to providing very
small benefits to many persons than very large but individually more expensive
benefits, including life-saving interventions, to a few persons, as the state
of Oregon found in its initial widely publicized prioritization program. In the
face of controversy over standards for rationing care, it is natural to rely on
fair procedures to make rationing decisions. Other bioethics issues arise from
dramatic advances in biological knowledge and technology. Perhaps the most
prominent example is new knowledge of human genetics, propelled in substantial
part by the worldwide Human Genome Project, which seeks to map the entire human
genome. This project and related research will enable the prevention of
genetically transmitted diseases, but already raises questions about which
conditions to prevent in offspring and which should be accepted and lived with,
particularly when the means of preventing the condition is by abortion of the
fetus with the condition. Looking further into the future, new genetic
knowledge and technology will likely enable us to enhance normal capacities,
not just prevent or cure disease, and to manipulate the genes of future children,
raising profoundly difficult questions about what kinds of persons to create
and the degree to which deliberate human design should replace “nature” in the
creation of our offspring. A dramatic example of new abilities to create
offspring, though now limited to the animal realm, was the cloning in Scotland
in 7 of a sheep from a single cell of an adult sheep; this event raised the
very controversial future prospect of cloning human beings. Finally, new
reproductive technologies, such as oocyte egg donation, and practices such as
surrogate motherhood, raise deep issues about the meaning and nature of
parenthood and families. Philosophical
biology -- euthanasia, broadly, the beneficent timing or negotiation of the
death of a sick person; more narrowly, the killing of a human being on the
grounds that he is better off dead. In an extended sense, the word ‘euthanasia’
is used to refer to the painless killing of non-human animals, in our interests
at least as much as in theirs. Active euthanasia is the taking of steps to end
a person’s especially a patient’s life. Passive euthanasia is the omission or
termination of means of prolonging life, on the grounds that the person is
better off without them. The distinction between active and passive euthanasia
is a rough guide for applying the more fundamental distinction between
intending the patient’s death and pursuing other goals, such as the relief of
her pain, with the expectation that she will die sooner rather than later as a
result. Voluntary euthanasia is euthanasia with the patient’s consent, or at
his request. Involuntary euthanasia is euthanasia over the patient’s
objections. Non-voluntary euthanasia is the killing of a person deemed
incompetent with the consent of someone
say a parent authorized to speak
on his behalf. Since candidates for euthanasia are frequently in no condition
to make major decisions, the question whether there is a difference between
involuntary and non-voluntary euthanasia is of great importance. Few moralists
hold that life must be prolonged whatever the cost. Traditional morality
forbids directly intended euthanasia: human life belongs to God and may be
taken only by him. The most important arguments for euthanasia are the pain and
indignity suffered by those with incurable diseases, the burden imposed by
persons unable to take part in normal human activities, and the supposed right
of persons to dispose of their lives however they please. Non-theological
arguments against euthanasia include the danger of expanding the principle of
euthanasia to an everwidening range of persons and the opacity of death and its
consequent incommensurability with life, so that we cannot safely judge that a
person is better off dead. H. P. Grice, “The roman problem: ‘vita’ for ‘bios’
and ‘zoe.’”
philosophism: birrellism – general refelction on life. Grice defines a
philosopher as someone ‘addicted to general reflections on life,’ like Birrell
did. f. paraphilosophy – philosophical hacks. “Austin’s expressed view -- the
formulation of which no doubt involves some irony -- is that we ‘philosophical
hacks’ spend the week making, for the benefit of our tutees, direct attacks on
this or that philosophical issue, and that we need to be refreshed, at the
week-end, by some suitably chosen ‘para-philosophy’ in which some non-philosophical conception is to be
examined with the full rigour of the Austinian Code, with a view to an ultimate
analogical pay-off (liable never to be reached) in philosophical currency.” His feeling of superiority as a
philosopher is obvious in various fields. He certaintly would not get involved
in any ‘empirical’ survey (“We can trust this, qua philosophers, as given.”) Grice
held a MA (Lit. Hum.) – Literae Humaniores (Philosophy). So he knew what he was
talking about. The curriculum was an easy one. He plays with the fact that
empiricists don’t regard philosophy as a sovereign monarch: philosophia regina
scientiarum, provided it’s queen consort. In “Conceptual analysis and the
province of philosophy,” he plays with the idea that Philosophy is the Supreme
Science. Grice was somewhat obsessed as to what ‘philosohical’ stood for, which
amused the members of his play group! His play group once spends five weeks in
an effort to explain why, sometimes, ‘very’ allows, with little or no change of
meaning, the substitution of ‘highly’ (as in ‘very unusual’) and sometimes does
not (as in ‘very depressed’ or ‘very wicked’); and we reached no conclusion. This
episode was ridiculed by some as an ultimate embodiment of fruitless frivolity.
But that response is as out of place as a similar response to the medieval
question, ‘How many angels can dance on a needle’s point?’” A needless point?For
much as this medieval question is raised in order to display, in a vivid way, a
difficulty in the conception of an immaterial substance, so The Play Group
discussion is directed, in response to a worry from me, towards an examination,
in the first instance, of a conceptual question which is generally agreed among
us to be a strong candidate for being a question which had no philosophical
importance, with a view to using the results of this examination in finding a
distinction between philosophically important and philosophically unimportant
enquiries. Grice is fortunate that the Lit. Hum. programme does not have much
philosophy! He feels free! In fact, the lack of a philosophical background is
felt as a badge of honour. It is ‘too clever’ and un-English to ‘know’ things.
A pint of philosophy is all Grice wanted. Figurative. This is Harvardite Gordon’s
attempt to formulate a philosophy of the minimum fundamental ideas that all
people on the earth should come to know. Reviewed by A. M. Honoré: Short
measure. Gordon, a Stanley Plummer scholar, e: Bowdoin and Harvard, in The
Eastern Gazette. Grice would exclaim: I always loved Alfred Brooks Gordon!
Grice was slightly disapppointed that Gordon had not included the fundamental
idea of implicaturum in his pint. Short measure, indeed. Grice gives seminars
on Ariskant (“the first part of this individual interested some of my tutees;
the second, others.” Ariskant philosophised in Grecian, but also in the pure
Teutonic, and Grice collaborated with Baker in this area. Curiously, Baker
majors in French and philosophy and does research at the Sorbonne. Grice would
sometimes define ‘philoosphy.’ Oddly, Grice gives a nice example of
‘philosopher’ meaning ‘addicted to general, usually stoic, reflections about
life.’ In the context where it occurs, the implicaturum is Stevensonian. If
Stevenson says that an athlete is usually tall, a philosopher may occasionally
be inclined to reflect about life in general, as a birrelist would. Grice’s
gives an alternate meaning, intended to display circularity: ‘engaged in
philosophical studies.’ The idea of Grice of philosophy is the one the Lit.
Hum. instills. It is a unique
experience, unknown in the New World, our actually outside Oxford, or
post-Grice, where a classicist is not seen as a philosopher. Once a tutorial
fellow in philosophy (rather than classics) and later university lecturer in
philosophy (rather than classics) strengthens his attachment. Grice needs to
regarded by his tutee as a philosopher simpliciter, as oppoosed to a prof: the
Waynflete is a metaphysician; the White is a moralist, the Wykeham a logician,
and the Wilde a ‘mental’. For Grice’s “greatest living philosopher,” Heidegger,
‘philosophy’ is a misnomer. While philology merely discourses (logos) on love,
the philosopher claims to be a wizard (sophos) of love. Liddell and Scott have
“φιλοσοφία,” which they render as “love of knowledge, pursuit thereof,
speculation,” “ἡ φ. κτῆσις ἐπιστήμης.” Then there’s “ἡ πρώτη φ.,” with striking
originality, metaphysic, Arist. Metaph. 1026a24. Just one sense, but various
ambiguities remain in ‘philosopher,’ as per Grice’s two usages. As it happens, Grice is both addicted
to general, usually stoic, speculations about life, and he is a member of The
Oxford Philosophical Society.Refs.: The main sources in the Grice Papers are
under series III, of the doctrines. See also references under ‘lingusitic
botany,’ and Oxonianism. Grice liked to play with the adage of ‘philosophia’ as
‘regina scientiarum.’ A specific essay in his update of “post-war Oxford
philosophy,” in WoW on “Conceptual analysis and the province of philosophy,”
BANC, H. P. Grice, “My friend Birrell.”
philosophia
perennis:
a supposed body of truths that appear in the writings of the great
philosophers, or the truths common to opposed philosophical viewpoints. The
term is derived from the title of a book De perenni philosophia published by
Agostino Steuco of Gubbio in 1540. It suggests that the differences between
philosophers are inessential and superficial and that the common essential
truth emerges, however partially, in the major philosophical schools. Aldous
Huxley employed it as a title. L. Lavelle, N. Hartmann, and K. Jaspers also
employ the phrase. M. De Wulf and many others use the phrase to characterize
Neo-Thomism as the chosen vehicle of essential philosophical truths. Refs.: H.
P. Grice, “All that remains is mutability.”
philosophical
anthropology:
Grice hardly used ‘man,’ but preferred ‘human,’ and person. ‘Man’ is very
English, and that may be the reason why latinate Grice avoided it! “Human”
Grice thought cognate with “homo,” which rendered Grecian ‘anthropoos.’ “The
Grecians and the Roamns distinguished between a generic ‘anthropoos,’ and the
masculine ‘aner,’ Roman ‘vir.’ -- “What is man?” Grice: “I would distinguish
between what is human, and what is person.” -- philosophical inquiry concerning
human nature, often starting with the question of what generally characterizes
human beings in contrast to other kinds of creatures and things. Thus broadly
conceived, it is a kind of inquiry as old as philosophy itself, occupying
philosophers from Socrates to Sartre; and it embraces philosophical psychology,
the philosophy of mind, philosophy of action, and existentialism. Such inquiry
presupposes no immutable “essence of man,” but only the meaningfulness of
distinguishing between what is “human” and what is not, and the possibility
that philosophy as well as other disciplines may contribute to our
self-comprehension. It leaves open the question of whether other kinds of
naturally occurring or artificially produced entity may possess the hallmarks
of our humanity, and countenances the possibility of the biologically evolved,
historically developed, and socially and individually variable character of
everything about our attained humanity. More narrowly conceived, philosophical
anthropology is a specific movement in recent European philosophy associated
initially with Scheler and Helmuth Plessner, and subsequently with such figures
as Arnold Gehlen, Cassirer, and the later Sartre. It initially emerged in
Germany simultaneously with the existential philosophy of Heidegger and the
critical social theory of the Frankfurt School, with which it competed as G.
philosophers turned their attention to the comprehension of human life. This
movement was distinguished from the outset by its attempt to integrate the
insights of phenomenological analysis with the perspectives attainable through
attention to human and comparative biology, and subsequently to social inquiry
as well. This turn to a more naturalistic approach to the understanding of
ourselves, as a particular kind of living creature among others, is reflected
in the titles of the two works published in 8 that inaugurated the movement:
Scheler’s Man’s Place in Nature and Plessner’s The Levels of the Organic and
Man. For both Scheler and Plessner, however, as for those who followed them,
our nature must be understood by taking further account of the social,
cultural, and intellectual dimensions of human life. Even those like Gehlen,
whose Der Mensch 0 exhibits a strongly biological orientation, devoted much
attention to these dimensions, which our biological nature both constrains and
makes possible. For all of them, the relation between the biological and the
social and cultural dimensions of human life is a central concern and a key to
comprehending our human nature. One of the common themes of the later
philosophical-anthropological literature
e.g., Cassirer’s An Essay on Man 5 and Sartre’s Critique of Dialectical
Reason 0 as well as Plessner’s Contitio Humana 5 and Gehlen’s Early Man and
Late Culture 3 is the plasticity of
human nature, made possible by our biological constitution, and the resulting
great differences in the ways human beings live. Yet this is not taken to
preclude saying anything meaningful about human nature generally; rather, it
merely requires attention to the kinds of general features involved and reflected
in human diversity and variability. Critics of the very idea and possibility of
a philosophical anthropology e.g., Althusser and Foucault typically either deny
that there are any such general features or maintain that there are none
outside the province of the biological sciences to which philosophy can
contribute nothing substantive. Both claims, however, are open to dispute; and
the enterprise of a philosophical anthropology remains a viable and potentially
significant one. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Gehlen and the idea that man is sick –
homo infirmus.”
vita – vitalism -- animatum – Grice: “The
Romans saw a living body as the ‘animatum,’ since it’s the soul that makes a
body a living thing --. So the idea of ‘vita’ is conceptually linked to that of
a ‘soul.’ Grice was logically more interested in the verb, ‘vivere.’ “Most of
Malcolm’s sophismata on ‘dreaming’ apply to ‘living,’ surely “I live”
implicates that I live. Grice was fascinated by the fact that English ‘quick’
was cognate with Roman ‘vivere.’ “as it should,” because if it’s quick, it’s
most certainly alive!” Old English cwic
"living, alive, animate," and figuratively, of mental qualities,
"rapid, ready," from Proto-Germanic *kwikwaz (source also of Old
Saxon and Old Frisian quik, Old Norse kvikr "living, alive," Dutch
kwik "lively, bright, sprightly," Old High German quec
"lively," German keck "bold"), from PIE root *gwei-
"to live." Sense of "lively, swift" developed by late 12c.,
on notion of "full of life." NE swift or the now more common fast may
apply to rapid motion of any duration, while in quick (in accordance with its
original sense of 'live, lively') there is a notion of 'sudden' or 'soon over.'
We speak of a fast horse or runner in a race, a quick starter but not a quick
horse. A somewhat similar feeling may distinguish NHG schnell and rasch or it
may be more a matter of local preference. [Carl Darling Buck, "A
Dictionary of Selected Synonyms in the Principal Indo-European Languages,"
1949] v. n. Sanscr. giv-, givami, live; Gr. βίος, life; Goth. quius, living; Germ. quicken; Engl.
quick, to live, be alive, have life (syn.
spiro).
philosophical biology: v. H. P. Grice, “The roman problem: doing with ‘vivere’
for ‘zoe’ and bios’” -- vide: H. P. Grice, “Philosophical biology and
philosophical psychology” -- the philosophy of science applied to biology. On a
conservative view of the philosophy of science, the same principles apply
throughout science. Biology supplies additional examples but does not provide
any special problems or require new principles. For example, the reduction of
Mendelian genetics to molecular biology exemplifies the same sort of relation
as the reduction of thermodynamics to statistical mechanics, and the same
general analysis of reduction applies equally to both. More radical
philosophers argue that the subject matter of biology has certain unique
features; hence, the philosophy of biology is itself unique. The three features
of biology most often cited by those who maintain that philosophy of biology is
unique are functional organization, embryological development, and the nature
of selection. Organisms are functionally organized. They are capable of maintaining
their overall organization in the face of fairly extensive variation in their
envisonments. Organisms also undergo ontogenetic development resulting from
extremely complex interactions between the genetic makeup of the organism and
its successive environments. At each step, the course that an organism takes is
determined by an interplay between its genetic makeup, its current state of
development, and the environment it happens to confront. The complexity of
these interactions produces the naturenurture problem. Except for human
artifacts, similar organization does not occur in the non-living world. The
species problem is another classic issue in the philosophy of biology.
Biological species have been a paradigm example of natural kinds since Aristotle.
According to nearly all pre-Darwinian philosophers, species are part of the
basic makeup of the universe, like gravity and gold. They were held to be as
eternal, immutable, and discrete as these other examples of natural kinds. If
Darwin was right, species are not eternal. They come and go, and once gone can
no more reemerge than Aristotle can once again walk the streets of Athens. Nor
are species immutable. A sample of lead can be transmuted into a sample of
gold, but these elements as elements remain immutable in the face of such
changes. However, Darwin insisted that species themselves, not merely their
instances, evolved. Finally, because Darwin thought that species evolved
gradually, the boundaries between species are not sharp, casting doubt on the essentialist
doctrines so common in his day. In short, if species evolve, they have none of
the traditional characteristics of species. Philosophers and biologists to this
day are working out the consequences of this radical change in our worldview.
The topic that has received the greatest attention by philosophers of biology
in the recent literature is the nature of evolutionary theory, in particular
selection, adaptation, fitness, and the population structure of species. In
order for selection to operate, variation is necessary, successive generations
must be organized genealogically, and individuals must interact differentially
with their environments. In the simplest case, genes pass on their structure
largely intact. In addition, they provide the information necessary to produce
organisms. Certain of these organisms are better able to cope with their
environments and reproduce than are other organisms. As a result, genes are
perpetuated differentially through successive generations. Those
characteristics that help an organism cope with its environments are termed
adaptations. In a more restricted sense, only those characteristics that arose
through past selective advantage count as adaptations. Just as the notion of IQ
was devised as a single measure for a combination of the factors that influence
our mental abilities, fitness is a measure of relative reproductive success.
Claims about the tautological character of the principle philosophical
behaviorism philosophy of biology of the survival of the fittest stem from the
blunt assertion that fitness just is relative reproductive success, as if
intelligence just is what IQ tests measure. Philosophers of biology have
collaborated with biologists to analyze the notion of fitness. This literature
has concentrated on the role that causation plays in selection and, hence, must
play in any adequate explication of fitness. One important distinction that has
emerged is between replication and differential interaction with the
environment. Selection is a function of the interplay between these two
processes. Because of the essential role of variation in selection, all the
organisms that belong to the same species either at any one time or through
time cannot possibly be essentially the same. Nor can species be treated adequately
in terms of the statistical covariance of either characters or genes. The
populational structure of species is crucial. For example, species that form
numerous, partially isolated demes are much more likely to speciate than those
that do not. One especially controversial question is whether species
themselves can function in the evolutionary process rather than simply
resulting from it. Although philosophers of biology have played an increasingly
important role in biology itself, they have also addressed more traditional
philosophical questions, especially in connection with evolutionary
epistemology and ethics. Advocates of evolutionary epistemology argue that
knowledge can be understood in terms of the adaptive character of accurate
knowledge. Those organisms that hold false beliefs about their environment,
including other organisms, are less likely to reproduce themselves than those
with more accurate beliefs. To the extent that this argument has any force at
all, it applies only to humansized entities and events. One common response to
evolutionary epistemology is that sometimes people who hold manifestly false
beliefs flourish at the expense of those who hold more realistic views of the
world in which we live. On another version of evolutionary epistemology,
knowledge acquisition is viewed as just one more instance of a selection
process. The issue is not to justify our beliefs but to understand how they are
generated and proliferated. Advocates of evolutionary ethics attempt to justify
certain ethical principles in terms of their survival value. Any behavior that
increases the likelihood of survival and reproduction is “good,” and anything
that detracts from these ends is “bad.” The main objection to evolutionary
ethics is that it violates the isought distinction. According to most ethical
systems, we are asked to sacrifice ourselves for the good of others. If these
others were limited to our biological relatives, then the biological notion of
inclusive fitness might be adequate to account for such altruistic behavior,
but the scope of ethical systems extends past one’s biological relatives.
Advocates of evolutionary ethics are hard pressed to explain the full range of
behavior that is traditionally considered as virtuous. Either biological
evolution cannot provide an adequate justification for ethical behavior or else
ethical systems must be drastically reduced in their scope. Refs.: Grice,
“Philosophical biology: are we all emergentists?”
philosophical oeconomica: Grice: “The
oikos is the house – and a house is not a home unless there’s a cat around.” --
the study of methodological issues facing positive economic theory and
normative problems on the intersection of welfare economics and political
philosophy. Methodological issues. Applying approaches and questions in the
philosophy of science specifically to economics, the philosophy of economics
explores epistemological and conceptual problems raised by the explanatory aims
and strategy of economic theory: Do its assumptions about individual choice
constitute laws, and do they explain its derived generalizations about markets
and economies? Are these generalizations laws, and if so, how are they tested
by observation of economic processes, and how are theories in the various
compartments of economics
microeconomics, macroeconomics
related to one another and to econometrics? How are the various
schools neoclassical, institutional,
Marxian, etc. related to one another,
and what sorts of tests might enable us to choose between their theories?
Historically, the chief issue of interest in the development of the philosophy
of economics has been the empirical adequacy of the assumptions of rational
“economic man”: that all agents have complete and transitive cardinal or
ordinal utility rankings or preference orders and that they always choose that
available option which maximizes their utility or preferences. Since the actual
behavior of agents appears to disconfirm these assumptions, the claim that they
constitute causal laws governing economic behavior is difficult to sustain. On
the other hand, the assumption of preference-maximizing behavior is
indispensable to twentieth-century economics. These two considerations jointly
undermine the claim that economic theory honors criteria on explanatory power
and evidential probity drawn philosophy of economics philosophy of economics
669 669 from physical science. Much
work by economists and philosophers has been devoted therefore to disputing the
claim that the assumptions of rational choice theory are false or to disputing
the inference from this claim to the conclusion that the cognitive status of
economic theory as empirical science is thereby undermined. Most frequently it
has been held that the assumptions of rational choice are as harmless and as
indispensable as idealizations are elsewhere in science. This view must deal
with the allegation that unlike theories embodying idealization elsewhere in
science, economic theory gains little more in predictive power from these
assumptions about agents’ calculations than it would secure without any
assumptions about individual choice. Normative issues. Both economists and
political philosophers are concerned with identifying principles that will
ensure just, fair, or equitable distributions of scarce goods. For this reason
neoclassical economic theory shares a history with utilitarianism in moral
philosophy. Contemporary welfare economics continues to explore the limits of
utilitarian prescriptions that optimal economic and political arrangements
should maximize and/or equalize utility, welfare, or some surrogate. It also
examines the adequacy of alternatives to such utilitarian principles. Thus,
economics shares an agenda of interests with political and moral philosophy.
Utilitarianism in economics and philosophy has been constrained by an early
realization that utilities are neither cardinally measurable nor
interpersonally comparable. Therefore the prescription to maximize and/or
equalize utility cannot be determinatively obeyed. Welfare theorists have
nevertheless attempted to establish principles that will enable us to determine
the equity, fairness, or justice of various economic arrangements, and that do
not rely on interpersonal comparisons required to measure whether a
distribution is maximal or equal in the utility it accords all agents. Inspired
by philosophers who have surrendered utilitarianism for other principles of
equality, fairness, or justice in distribution, welfare economists have
explored Kantian, social contractarian, and communitarian alternatives in a
research program that cuts clearly across both disciplines. Political
philosophy has also profited as much from innovations in economic theory as
welfare economics has benefited from moral philosophy. Theorems from welfare
economics that establish the efficiency of markets in securing distributions
that meet minimal conditions of optimality and fairness have led moral
philosophers to reexamine the moral status of free-market exchange. Moreover,
philosophers have come to appreciate that coercive social institutions are
sometimes best understood as devices for securing public goods goods like police protection that cannot be
provided to those who pay for them without also providing them to free riders
who decline to do so. The recognition that everyone would be worse off,
including free riders, were the coercion required to pay for these goods not
imposed, is due to welfare economics and has led to a significant revival of
interest in the work of Hobbes, who appears to have prefigured such
arguments.
philosophy of education: Grice: “To teach
is not the opposite of learn, even if The Wind in The Willows thus suggests. –
“ “To teach is etymologically, to ‘show, -- the ensign – To educate is of
course to guide, to lead, to conduce. Grice: “I taught Peters all he needed to
know about this!” -- a branch of philosophy concerned with virtually every
aspect of the educational enterprise. It significantly overlaps other, more
mainstream branches especially epistemology and ethics, but even logic and
metaphysics. The field might almost be construed as a “series of footnotes” to
Plato’s Meno, wherein are raised such fundamental issues as whether virtue can
be taught; what virtue is; what knowledge is; what the relation between
knowledge of virtue and being virtuous is; what the relation between knowledge
and teaching is; and how and whether teaching is possible. While few people
would subscribe to Plato’s doctrine or convenient fiction, perhaps in Meno that
learning by being taught is a process of recollection, the paradox of inquiry
that prompts this doctrine is at once the root text of the perennial debate
between rationalism and empiricism and a profoundly unsettling indication that
teaching passeth understanding. Mainstream philosophical topics considered
within an educational context tend to take on a decidedly genetic cast. So,
e.g., epistemology, which analytic philosophy has tended to view as a
justificatory enterprise, becomes concerned if not with the historical origins
of knowledge claims then with their genesis within the mental economy of
persons generally in consequence of
their educations. And even when philosophers of education come to endorse
something akin to Plato’s classic account of knowledge as justified true
belief, they are inclined to suggest, then, that the conveyance of knowledge
via instruction must somehow provide the student with the justification along
with the true philosophy of education philosophy of education 670 670 belief
thereby reintroducing a genetic dimension to a topic long lacking one.
Perhaps, indeed, analytic philosophy’s general though not universal neglect of
philosophy of education is traceable in some measure to the latter’s almost
inevitably genetic perspective, which the former tended to decry as armchair
science and as a threat to the autonomy and integrity of proper philosophical
inquiry. If this has been a basis for neglect, then philosophy’s more recent,
postanalytic turn toward naturalized inquiries that reject any dichotomy
between empirical and philosophical investigations may make philosophy of
education a more inviting area. Alfred North Whitehead, himself a leading light
in the philosophy of education, once remarked that we are living in the period
of educational thought subject to the influence of Dewey, and there is still no
denying the observation. Dewey’s instrumentalism, his special brand of
pragmatism, informs his extraordinarily comprehensive progressive philosophy of
education; and he once went so far as to define all of philosophy as the
general theory of education. He identifies the educative process with the
growth of experience, with growing as developing where experience is to be understood more in
active terms, as involving doing things that change one’s objective environment
and internal conditions, than in the passive terms, say, of Locke’s
“impression” model of experience. Even traditionalistic philosophers of
education, most notably Maritain, have acknowledged the wisdom of Deweyan
educational means, and have, in the face of Dewey’s commanding philosophical
presence, reframed the debate with progressivists as one about appropriate
educational ends thereby insufficiently
acknowledging Dewey’s trenchant critique of the meansend distinction. And even
some recent analytic philosophers of education, such as R. S. Peters, can be
read as if translating Deweyan insights e.g., about the aim of education into
an analytic idiom. Analytic philosophy of education, as charted by Oxford
philosopher R. S. Peters, Israel Scheffler, and others in the Anglo-
philosophical tradition, has used the tools of linguistic analysis on a wide
variety of educational concepts learning, teaching, training, conditioning,
indoctrinating, etc. and investigated their interconnections: Does teaching
entail learning? Does teaching inevitably involve indoctrinating? etc. This
careful, subtle, and philosophically sophisticated work has made possible a
much-needed conceptual precision in educational debates, though the debaters
who most influence public opinion and policy have rarely availed themselves of
that precisification. Recent work in philosophy of education, however, has
taken up some major educational objectives
moral and other values, critical and creative thinking in a way that promises to have an impact on
the actual conduct of education. Philosophy of education, long isolated in
schools of education from the rest of the academic philosophical community, has
also been somewhat estranged from the professional educational mainstream.
Dewey would surely have approved of a change in this status quo. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Peters and I.”
philosophical historian: philosophical
historian – Grice as – longitudinal unity -- Danto, A. C. philosopher of art
and art history who has also contributed to the philosophies of history,
action, knowledge, science, and metaphilosophy. Among his influential studies
in the history of philosophy are books on Nietzsche, Sartre, and thought. Danto arrives at his philosophy of
art through his “method of indiscernibles,” which has greatly influenced
contemporary philosophical aesthetics. According to his metaphilosophy, genuine
philosophical questions arise when there is a theoretical need to differentiate
two things that are perceptually indiscernible
such as prudential actions versus moral actions Kant, causal chains
versus constant conjunctions Hume, and perfect dreams versus reality Descartes.
Applying the method to the philosophy of art, Danto asks what distinguishes an
artwork, such as Warhol’s Brillo Box, from its perceptually indiscernible,
real-world counterparts, such as Brillo boxes by Proctor and Gamble. His
answer his partial definition of
art is that x is a work of art only if 1
x is about something and 2 x embodies its meaning i.e., discovers a mode of
presentation intended to be appropriate to whatever subject x is about. These
two necessary conditions, Danto claims, enable us to distinguish between
artworks and real things between
Warhol’s Brillo Box and Proctor and Gamble’s. However, critics have pointed out
that these conditions fail, since real Brillo boxes are about something Brillo
about which they embody or convey meanings through their mode of presentation
viz., that Brillo is clean, fresh, and dynamic. Moreover, this is not an
isolated example. Danto’s theory of art confronts systematic difficulties in
differentiating real cultural artifacts, such as industrial packages, from
artworks proper. In addition to his philosophy of art, Danto proposes a
philosophy of art history. Like Hegel, Danto maintains that art history as a developmental, progressive process has ended. Danto believes that modern art has
been primarily reflexive i.e., about itself; it has attempted to use its own
forms and strategies to disclose the essential nature of art. Cubism and
abstract expressionism, for example, exhibit saliently the two-dimensional
nature of painting. With each experiment, modern art has gotten closer to
disclosing its own essence. But, Danto argues, with works such as Warhol’s
Brillo Box, artists have taken the philosophical project of self-definition as
far as they can, since once an artist like Warhol has shown that artworks can
be perceptually indiscernible from “real things” and, therefore, can look like
anything, there is nothing further that the artist qua artist can show through
the medium of appearances about the nature of art. The task of defining art
must be reassigned to philosophers to be treated discursively, and art
history as the developmental,
progressive narrative of self-definition
ends. Since that turn of events was putatively precipitated by Warhol in
the 0s, Danto calls the present period of art making “post-historical.” As an
art critic for The Nation, he has been chronicling its vicissitudes for a
decade and a half. Some dissenters, nevertheless, have been unhappy with
Danto’s claim that art history has ended because, they maintain, he has failed
to demonstrate that the only prospects for a developmental, progressive history
of art reside in the project of the self-definition of art. “There are two
concerns by the philosopher with history – the history of philosophy as a
philosophical discipline – and the philosophy of history per se. In the latter,
in what way can we say that decapitation willed the death of Charles II?” –
Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Philosophy’s Two Co-Ordinate Unities: Lat. and Long.,”
“Kantotle or Ariskant? The Co-Ordinate Unity of Philosophy.” Grice is more
interested in philosophical historiography than history itself! He makes some
hypotheses about the movement he belonged to, and he hoped that what he had to
say related to what he called Athenian dialectic! In stressing the
‘continuity,’ or unity, of philosophy both latitudinal and longidtudinal, Grice
is inviting historiography as more than ancilla philosophiae. This at a time
when analyticd philowophers, mainly in the New World, “where they really lack a
history,” were propagating the slogan that to philosophise is NOT do to history
of philosophy!” philosophy of history, the philosophical study of human history
and of attempts to record and interpret it. ‘History’ in English and its
equivalent in most modern European languages has two primary senses: 1 the
temporal progression of large-scale human events and actions, primarily but not
exclusively in the past; and 2 the discipline or inquiry in which knowledge of
the human past is acquired or sought. This has led to two senses of ‘philosophy
of history’, depending on which “history” has been the object of philosophers’
attentions. Philosophy of history in the first sense is often called
substantive or speculative, and placed under metaphysics. Philosophy of history
in the second sense is called critical or analytic and can be placed in
epistemology. Substantive philosophy of history. In the West, substantive
philosophy of history is thought to begin only in the Christian era. In the
City of God, Augustine wonders why Rome flourished while pagan, yet fell into
disgrace after its conversion to Christiantity. Divine reward and punishment
should apply to whole peoples, not just to individuals. The unfolding of events
in history should exhibit a plan that is intelligible rationally, morally, and
for Augustine theologically. As a believer Augustine is convinced that there is
such a plan, though it may not always be evident. In the modern period,
philosophers such as Vico and Herder also sought such intelligibility in
history. They also believed in a long-term direction or purpose of history that
is often opposed to and makes use of the purposes of individuals. The most
elaborate and best-known example of this approach is found in Hegel, who
thought that the gradual realization of human freedom could be discerned in
history even if much slavery, tyranny, and suffering are necessary in the
process. Marx, too, claimed to know the laws
in his case economic according to
which history unfolds. Similar searches for overall “meaning” in human history
have been undertaken in the twentieth century, notably by Arnold Toynbee 95,
author of the twelve-volume Study of History, and Oswald Spengler 06, author of
Decline of the West. But the whole enterprise was denounced by the positivists
and neo-Kantians of the late nineteenth century as irresponsible metaphysical
speculation. This attitude was shared by twentieth-century neopositivists and
some of their heirs in the analytic tradition. There is some irony in this,
since positivism, explicitly in thinkers like Comte and implicitly in others,
involves belief in progressively enlightened stages of human history crowned by
the modern age of science. Critical philosophy of history. The critical
philosophy of history, i.e., the epistemology of historical knowledge, can be
traced to the late nineteenth century and has been dominated by the paradigm of
the natural sciences. Those in the positivist, neopositivist, and
postpositivist tradition, in keeping with the idea of the unity of science,
believe that to know the historical past is to explain events causally, and all
causal explanation is ultimately of the same sort. To explain human events is
to derive them from laws, which may be social, psychological, and perhaps
ultimately biological and physical. Against this reductionism, the neo-Kantians
and Dilthey argued that history, like other humanistic disciplines
Geisteswissenschaften, follows irreducible rules of its own. It is concerned
with particular events or developments for their own sake, not as instances of
general laws, and its aim is to understand, rather than explain, human actions.
This debate was resurrected in the twentieth century in the English-speaking
world. Philosophers like Hempel and Morton White b.7 elaborated on the notion
of causal explanation in history, while Collingwood and William Dray b.1
described the “understanding” of historical agents as grasping the thought
behind an action or discovering its reasons rather than its causes. The comparison
with natural science, and the debate between reductionists and
antireductionists, dominated other questions as well: Can or should history be
objective and valuefree, as science purportedly is? What is the significance of
the fact that historians can never perceive the events that interest them,
since they are in the past? Are they not limited by their point of view, their
place in history, in a way scientists are not? Some positivists were inclined
to exclude history from science, rather than make it into one, relegating it to
“literature” because it could never meet the standards of objectivity and
genuine explanation; it was often the anti-positivists who defended the
cognitive legitimacy of our knowledge of the past. In the non-reductionist tradition,
philosophers have increasingly stressed the narrative character of history: to
understand human actions generally, and past actions in particular, is to tell
a coherent story about them. History, according to W. B. Gallie b.2, is a
species of the genus Story. History does not thereby become fiction: narrative
remains a “cognitive instrument” Louis Mink, 183 just as appropriate to its
domain as theory construction is to science. Nevertheless, concepts previously
associated with fictional narratives, such as plot structure and
beginning-middle-end, are seen as applying to historical narratives as well.
This tradition is carried further by Hayden White b.8, who analyzes classical
nineteenth-century histories and even substantive philosophies of history such
as Hegel’s as instances of romance, comedy, tragedy, and satire. In White’s
work this mode of analysis leads him to some skepticism about history’s
capacity to “represent” the reality of the past: narratives seem to be imposed
upon the data, often for ideological reasons, rather than drawn from them. To
some extent White’s view joins that of some positivists who believe that
history’s literary character excludes it from the realm of science. But for
White this is hardly a defect. Some philosophers have criticized the emphasis
on narrative in discussions of history, since it neglects search and discovery,
deciphering and evaluating sources, etc., which is more important to historians
than the way they “write up” their results. Furthermore, not all history is
presented in narrative form. The debate between pro- and anti-narrativists
among philosophers of history has its parallel in a similar debate among
historians themselves. Academic history in recent times has seen a strong turn
away from traditional political history toward social, cultural, and economic
analyses of the human past. Narrative is associated with the supposedly
outmoded focus on the doings of kings, popes, and generals. These are
considered e.g. by the historian Fernand
Braudel, 285 merely surface ripples compared to the deeper-lying and
slower-moving currents of social and economic change. It is the methods and
concepts of the social sciences, not the art of the storyteller, on which the
historian must draw. This debate has now lost some of its steam and narrative
history has made something of a comeback among historians. Among philosophers
Paul Ricoeur has tried to show that even ostensibly non-narrative history
retains narrative features. Historicity. Historicity or historicality: Geschichtlichkeit
is a term used in the phenomenological and hermeneutic tradition from Dilthey
and Husserl through Heidegger and Gadamer to indicate an essential feature of
human existence. Persons are not merely in history; their past, including their
social past, figures in their conception of themselves and their future
possibilities. Some awareness of the past is thus constitutive of the self,
prior to being formed into a cognitive discipine. Modernism and the postmodern.
It is possible to view some of the debates over the modern and postmodern in
recent Continental philosophy as a new kind of philosophy of history.
Philosophers like Lyotard and Foucault see the modern as the period from the
Enlightenment and Romanticism to the present, characterized chiefly by belief
in “grand narratives” of historical progress, whether capitalist, Marxist, or
positivist, with “man” as the triumphant hero of the story. Such belief is now
being or should be abandoned, bringing modernism to an end. In one sense this
is like earlier attacks on the substantive philosophy of history, since it
unmasks as unjustified moralizing certain beliefs about large-scale patterns in
history. It goes even further than the earlier attack, since it finds these
beliefs at work even where they are not explicitly expressed. In another sense
this is a continuation of the substantive philosophy of history, since it makes
its own grand claims about largescale historical patterns. In this it joins
hands with other philosophers of our day in a general historicization of
knowledge e.g., the philosophy of science merges with the history of science
and even of philosophy itself. Thus the later Heidegger and more recently Richard Rorty view philosophy itself as a large-scale
episode in Western history that is nearing or has reached its end. Philosophy
thus merges with the history of philosophy, but only thanks to a philosophical
reflection on this history as part of history as a whole.
jus: prudentia iuris,
iuris-prudentia, iurisprudentia -- Jurisprudence – Grice: “The root of ‘juris’
is an interesting one – before Hart and his legalese, it was all about ethics’!”
The Roman expression ‘jus,’ not to be confused with
‘jus,’ which meant ‘juice,’ as in ‘orange juice,’ is kindred with Sanscrit, “yu,”
to join; cf. ζεύγνυμι, and jungo,
qs. the binding, obliging; in this way, it compares with “lex,” which derives
from “ligo,” -- right, law, justice. The ‘jungo’ gives the family of
expressions like ‘con-junctum,’ joined. The idea is that if you are bound, you
are obliged. -- Hartian
jurisprudence – Grice on Hartian jurisprudence -- philosophy of law, also
called general jurisprudence, the study of conceptual and theoretical problems
concerning the nature of law as such, or common to any legal system. Problems
in the philosophy of law fall roughly into two groups. The first contains
problems internal to law and legal systems as such. These include a the nature
of legal rules; the conditions under which they can be said to exist and to
influence practice; their normative character, as mandatory or advisory; and
the indeterminacy of their language; b the structure and logical character of
legal norms; the analysis of legal principles as a class of legal norms; and
the relation between the normative force of law and coercion; c the identity
conditions for legal systems; when a legal system exists; and when one legal
system ends and another begins; d the nature of the reasoning used by courts in
adjudicating cases; e the justification of legal decisions; whether legal
justification is through a chain of inferences or by the coherence of norms and
decisions; and the relation between intralegal and extralegal justification; f
the nature of legal validity and of what makes a norm a valid law; the relation
between validity and efficacy, the fact that the norms of a legal system are
obeyed by the norm-subjects; g properties of legal systems, including
comprehensiveness the claim to regulate any behavior and completeness the
absence of gaps in the law; h legal rights; under what conditions citizens
possess them; and their analytical structure as protected normative positions;
i legal interpretation; whether it is a pervasive feature of law or is found
only in certain kinds of adjudication; its rationality or otherwise; and its
essentially ideological character or otherwise. The second group of problems
concerns the philosophy of law philosophy of law 676 676 relation between law as one particular
social institution in a society and the wider political and moral life of that
society: a the nature of legal obligation; whether there is an obligation,
prima facie or final, to obey the law as such; whether there is an obligation
to obey the law only when certain standards are met, and if so, what those
standards might be; b the authority of law; and the conditions under which a
legal system has political or moral authority or legitimacy; c the functions of
law; whether there are functions performed by a legal system in a society that
are internal to the design of law; and analyses from the perspective of
political morality of the functioning of legal systems; d the legal concept of
responsibility; its analysis and its relation to moral and political concepts
of responsibility; in particular, the place of mental elements and causal
elements in the assignment of responsibility, and the analysis of those
elements; e the analysis and justification of legal punishment; f legal
liberty, and the proper limits or otherwise of the intrusion of the legal
system into individual liberty; the plausibility of legal moralism; g the
relation between law and justice, and the role of a legal system in the
maintenance of social justice; h the relation between legal rights and
political or moral rights; i the status of legal reasoning as a species of
practical reasoning; and the relation between law and practical reason; j law
and economics; whether legal decision making in fact tracks, or otherwise ought
to track, economic efficiency; k legal systems as sources of and embodiments of
political power; and law as essentially gendered, or imbued with race or class
biases, or otherwise. Theoretical positions in the philosophy of law tend to
group into three large kinds legal
positivism, natural law, and legal realism. Legal positivism concentrates on
the first set of problems, and typically gives formal or content-independent
solutions to such problems. For example, legal positivism tends to regard legal
validity as a property of a legal rule that the rule derives merely from its
formal relation to other legal rules; a morally iniquitous law is still for
legal positivism a valid legal rule if it satisfies the required formal existence
conditions. Legal rights exist as normative consequences of valid legal rules;
no questions of the status of the right from the point of view of political
morality arise. Legal positivism does not deny the importance of the second set
of problems, but assigns the task of treating them to other disciplines political philosophy, moral philosophy,
sociology, psychology, and so forth. Questions of how society should design its
legal institutions, for legal positivism, are not technically speaking problems
in the philosophy of law, although many legal positivists have presented their
theories about such questions. Natural law theory and legal realism, by
contrast, regard the sharp distinction between the two kinds of problem as an
artifact of legal positivism itself. Their answers to the first set of problems
tend to be substantive or content-dependent. Natural law theory, for example,
would regard the question of whether a law was consonant with practical reason,
or whether a legal system was morally and politically legitimate, as in whole
or in part determinative of the issue of legal validity, or of whether a legal
norm granted a legal right. The theory would regard the relation between a
legal system and liberty or justice as in whole or in part determinative of the
normative force and the justification for that system and its laws. Legal
realism, especially in its contemporary politicized form, sees the claimed role
of the law in legitimizing certain gender, race, or class interests as the
prime salient property of law for theoretical analysis, and questions of the
determinacy of legal rules or of legal interpretation or legal right as of
value only in the service of the project of explaining the political power of
law and legal systems. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Does Oxford need a chair of
jurisprudence” – symposium with H. L. A. Hart, conducted on the Saturday
morning following Hart’s appointment as chair of jurisprudence.”
Literae humaniores. Grice took
‘literature’ seriously. “After all, I am a Lit. Hum. master! And previously a
Lit. Hum. BACHELOR” – He made a strict distinction, seeing that at Oxford, a
master can do things a bachelor cannot – like marry! philosophy of literature:
Grice: “When I got my Masters in Literae Humaniores, the more human letters, my
mather said – which are the less human ones?” -- literary theory. However,
while the literary theorist, who is often a literary critic, is primarily
interested in the conceptual foundations of practical criticism, philosophy of
literature, usually done by philosophers, is more often concerned to place literature
in the context of a philosophical system. Plato’s dialogues have much to say
about poetry, mostly by way of aligning it with Plato’s metaphysical,
epistemological, and ethico-political views. Aristotle’s Poetics, the earliest
example of literary theory in the West, is also an attempt to accommodate the
practice of Grecian poets to Aristotle’s philosophical system as a whole.
Drawing on the thought of philosophers like Kant and Schelling, Samuel Taylor
Coleridge offers in his Biographia Literaria a philosophy of literature that is
to Romantic poetics what Aristotle’s treatise is to classical poetics: a
literary theory that is confirmed both by the poets whose work it legitimates
and by the metaphysics that recommends it. Many philosophers, among them Hume,
Schopenhauer, Heidegger, and Sartre, have tried to make room for literature in
their philosophical edifices. Some philosophers, e.g., the G. Romantics, have
made literature and the other arts the cornerstone of philosophy itself. See
Philippe Lacoue-Labarthe and Jean-Luc Nancy, The Literary Absolute, 8.
Sometimes ‘philosophy of literature’ is understood in a second sense:
philosophy and literature; i.e., philosophy and literature taken to be distinct
and essentially autonomous activities that may nonetheless sustain determinate
relations to each other. Philosophy of literature, understood in this way, is
the attempt to identify the differentiae that distinguish philosophy from
literature and to specify their relationships to each other. Sometimes the two
are distinguished by their subject matter e.g., philosophy deals with objective
structures, literature with subjectivity, sometimes by their methods philosophy
is an act of reason, literature the product of imagination, inspiration, or the
unconscious, sometimes by their effects philosophy produces knowledge,
literature produces emotional fulfillment or release, etc. Their relationships
then tend to occupy the areas in which they are not essentially distinct. If
their subject matters are distinct, their effects may be the same philosophy
and literature both produce understanding, the one of fact and the other of
feeling; if their methods are distinct, they may be approaching the same
subject matter in different ways; and so on. For Aquinas, e.g., philosophy and
poetry may deal with the same objects, the one communicating truth about the
object in syllogistic form, the other inspiring feelings about it through
figurative language. For Heidegger, the philosopher investigates the meaning of
being while the poet names the holy, but their preoccupations tend to converge
at the deepest levels of thinking. For Sartre, literature is philosophy engagé,
existential-political activity in the service of freedom. ’Philosophy of
literature’ may also be taken in a third sense: philosophy in literature, the
attempt to discover matters of philosophical interest and value in literary
texts. The philosopher may undertake to identify, examine, and evaluate the
philosophical content of literary texts that contain expressions of
philosophical ideas and discussions of philosophical problems e.g., the debates on free will and theodicy
in Fyodor Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov. Many if not most courses on philosophy of literature are
taught from this point of view. Much interesting and important work has been
done in this vein; e.g., Santayana’s Three Philosophical Poets 0, Cavell’s
essays on Emerson and Thoreau, and Nussbaum’s Love’s Knowledge 9. It should be
noted, however, that to approach the matter in this way presupposes that
literature and philosophy are simply different forms of the same content: what
philosophy expresses in the form of argument literature expresses in lyric,
dramatic, or narrative form. The philosopher’s treatment of literature implies
that he is uniquely positioned to explicate the subject matter treated in both
literary and philosophical texts, and that the language of philosophy gives
optimal expression to a content less adequately expressed in the language of
literature. The model for this approach may well be Hegel’s Phenomenology of
Spirit, which treats art along with religion as imperfect adumbrations of a
truth that is fully and properly articulated only in the conceptual mode of
philosophical dialectic. Dissatisfaction with this presupposition and its
implicit privileging of philosophy over literature has led to a different view
of the relation between philosophy and literature and so to a different program
for philosophy of literature. The self-consciously literary form of
Kierkegaard’s writing is an integral part of his polemic against the
philosophical imperialism of the Hegelians. In this century, the work of
philosophers like Derrida and the philosophers and critics who follow his lead
suggests that it is mistaken to regard philosophy and literature as alternative
expressions of an identical content, and seriously mistaken to think of
philosophy as the master discourse, the “proper” expression of a content
“improperly” expressed in literature. All texts, on this view, have a
“literary” form, the texts of philosophers as well as the texts of novelists
and poets, and their content is internally determined by their “means of
expression.” There is just as much “literature in philosophy” as there is
“philosophy in literature.” Consequently, the philosopher of literature may no
longer be able simply to extract philosophical matter from literary form.
Rather, the modes of literary expression confront the philosopher with problems
that bear on the presuppositions of his own enterprise. E.g., fictional mimesis
especially in the works of postmodern writers raises questions about the
possibility and the prephilosophy of literature philosophy of literature
678 678 philosophy of logic philosophy
of logic 679 sumed normativeness of factual representation, and in so doing
tends to undermine the traditional hierarchy that elevates “fact” over
“fiction.” Philosophers’ perplexity over the truth-value of fictional
statements is an example of the kind of problems the study of literature can
create for the practice of philosophy see Rorty, Consequences of Pragmatism, 2,
ch. 7. Or again, the self-reflexivity of contemporary literary texts can lead
philosophers to reflect critically on their own undertaking and may seriously
unsettle traditional notions of self-referentiality. When it is not regarded as
another, attractive but perhaps inferior source of philosophical ideas,
literature presents the philosopher with epistemological, metaphysical, and
methodological problems not encountered in the course of “normal” philosophizing.
Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Why a philosopher is a literary soul at Oxford: the
etymological meaning of ‘literae humaniores.’”
semantics – Grice, “Mathematics and the
synthetic a priorir,” Grice on Warnock’s Oxford readings in philosophy, ‘The
philosophy of mathematics,’ Austin on Frege’s arithmetic -- philosophical
geometer, philosophical mathematician –
H. P. Grice, “ΑΓΕΩΜΕΤΡΗΤΟΣ ΜΗΔΕΙΣ ΕΙΣΙΤΩ;
or, The school of Plato.” philosophy of
mathematics, the study of ontological and epistemological problems raised by
the content and practice of mathematics. The present agenda in this field
evolved from critical developments, notably the collapse of Pythagoreanism, the
development of modern calculus, and an early twentieth-century foundational
crisis, which forced mathematicians and philosophers to examine mathematical
methods and presuppositions. Grecian mathematics. The Pythagoreans, who
represented the height of early demonstrative Grecian mathematics, believed
that all scientific relations were measureable by natural numbers 1, 2, 3, etc.
or ratios of natural numbers, and thus they assumed discrete, atomic units for
the measurement of space, time, and motion. The discovery of irrational
magnitudes scotched the first of these beliefs. Zeno’s paradoxes showed that
the second was incompatible with the natural assumption that space and time are
infinitely divisible. The Grecian reaction, ultimately codified in Euclid’s
Elements, included Plato’s separation of mathematics from empirical science
and, within mathematics, distinguished number theory a study of discretely ordered entities from geometry, which concerns continua.
Following Aristotle and employing methods perfected by Eudoxus, Euclid’s proofs
used only “potentially infinite” geometric and arithmetic procedures. The
Elements’ axiomatic form and its constructive proofs set a standard for future
mathematics. Moreover, its dependence on visual intuition whose consequent
deductive gaps were already noted by Archimedes, together with the challenge of
Euclid’s infamous fifth postulate about parallel lines, and the famous unsolved
problems of compass and straightedge construction, established an agenda for
generations of mathematicians. The calculus. The two millennia following Euclid
saw new analytical tools e.g., Descartes’s geometry that wedded arithmetic and
geometric considerations and toyed with infinitesimally small quantities.
These, together with the demands of physical application, tempted
mathematicians to abandon the pristine Grecian dichotomies. Matters came to a
head with Newton’s and Leibniz’s almost simultaneous discovery of the powerful
computational techniques of the calculus. While these unified physical science
in an unprecedented way, their dependence on unclear notions of infinitesimal
spatial and temporal increments emphasized their shaky philosophical
foundation. Berkeley, for instance, condemned the calculus for its
unintuitability. However, this time the power of the new methods inspired a
decidedly conservative response. Kant, in particular, tried to anchor the new
mathematics in intuition. Mathematicians, he claimed, construct their objects
in the “pure intuitions” of space and time. And these mathematical objects are
the a priori forms of transcendentally ideal empirical objects. For Kant this
combination of epistemic empiricism and ontological idealism explained the
physical applicability of mathematics and thus granted “objective validity”
i.e., scientific legitimacy to mathematical procedures. Two nineteenth-century
developments undercut this Kantian constructivism in favor of a more abstract
conceptual picture of mathematics. First, Jànos Bolyai, Carl F. Gauss, Bernhard
Riemann, Nikolai Lobachevsky, and others produced consistent non-Euclidean
geometries, which undid the Kantian picture of a single a priori science of
space, and once again opened a rift between pure mathematics and its physical
applications. Second, Cantor and Dedekind defined the real numbers i.e., the
elements of the continuum as infinite sets of rational and ultimately natural
numbers. Thus they founded mathematics on the concepts of infinite set and
natural number. Cantor’s set theory made the first concept rigorously
mathematical; while Peano and Frege both of whom advocated securing rigor by
using formal languages did that for the second. Peano axiomatized number
theory, and Frege ontologically reduced the natural numbers to sets indeed sets
that are the extensions of purely logical concepts. Frege’s Platonistic
conception of numbers as unintuitable objects and his claim that mathematical
truths follow analytically from purely logical definitions the thesis of logicism are both highly anti-Kantian. Foundational
crisis and movements. But antiKantianism had its own problems. For one thing,
Leopold Kronecker, who following Peter Dirichlet wanted mathematics reduced to
arithmetic and no further, attacked Cantor’s abstract set theory on doctrinal
grounds. Worse yet, the discovery of internal antinomies challenged the very
consistency of abstract foundations. The most famous of these, Russell’s
paradox the set of all sets that are not members of themselves both is and
isn’t a member of itself, undermined Frege’s basic assumption that every
well-formed concept has an extension. This was a full-scale crisis. To be sure,
Russell himself together with Whitehead preserved the logicist foundational
approach by organizing the universe of sets into a hierarchy of levels so that
no set can be a member of itself. This is type theory. However, the crisis
encouraged two explicitly Kantian foundational projects. The first, Hilbert’s
Program, attempted to secure the “ideal” i.e., infinitary parts of mathematics
by formalizing them and then proving the resultant formal systems to be
conservative and hence consistent extensions of finitary theories. Since the
proof itself was to use no reasoning more complicated than simple numerical
calculations finitary reasoning the whole metamathematical project belonged
to the untainted “contentual” part of mathematics. Finitary reasoning was
supposed to update Kant’s intuition-based epistemology, and Hilbert’s
consistency proofs mimic Kant’s notion of objective validity. The second
project, Brouwer’s intuitionism, rejected formalization, and was not only
epistemologically Kantian resting mathematical reasoning on the a priori
intuition of time, but ontologically Kantian as well. For intuitionism
generated both the natural and the real numbers by temporally ordered conscious
acts. The reals, in particular, stem from choice sequences, which exploit Brouwer’s
epistemic assumptions about the open future. These foundational movements
ultimately failed. Type theory required ad hoc axioms to express the real
numbers; Hilbert’s Program foundered on Gödel’s theorems; and intuitionism
remained on the fringes because it rejected classical logic and standard
mathematics. Nevertheless the legacy of these movements their formal methods, indeed their
philosophical agenda still characterizes
modern research on the ontology and epistemology of mathematics. Set theory,
e.g. despite recent challenges from category theory, is the lingua franca of
modern mathematics. And formal languages with their precise semantics are
ubiquitous in technical and philosophical discussions. Indeed, even
intuitionistic mathematics has been formalized, and Michael Dummett has recast
its ontological idealism as a semantic antirealism that defines truth as
warranted assertability. In a similar semantic vein, Paul Benacerraf proposed
that the philosophical problem with Hilbert’s approach is inability to provide
a uniform realistic i.e., referential, non-epistemic semantics for the
allegedly ideal and contentual parts of mathematics; and the problem with
Platonism is that its semantics makes its objects unknowable. Ontological
issues. From this modern perspective, the simplest realism is the outright
Platonism that attributes a standard model consisting of “independent” objects
to classical theories expressed in a first-order language i.e., a language
whose quantifiers range over objects but not properties. But in fact realism
admits variations on each aspect. For one thing, the Löwenheim-Skolem theorem
shows that formalized theories can have non-standard models. There are
expansive non-standard models: Abraham Robinson, e.g., used infinitary non-standard
models of Peano’s axioms to rigorously reintroduce infinitesimals. Roughly, an
infinitesimal is the reciprocal of an infinite element in such a model. And
there are also “constructive” models, whose objects must be explicitly
definable. Predicative theories inspired by Poincaré and Hermann Weyl, whose
stage-by-stage definitions refer only to previously defined objects, produce
one variety of such models. Gödel’s constructive universe, which uses less
restricted definitions to model apparently non-constructive axioms like the
axiom of choice, exemplifies another variety. But there are also views various
forms of structuralism which deny that formal theories have unique standard
models at all. These views inspired by
the fact, already sensed by Dedekind, that there are multiple equivalid
realizations of formal arithmetic allow
a mathematical theory to characterize only a broad family of models and deny
unique reference to mathematical terms. Finally, some realistic approaches
advocate formalization in secondorder languages, and some eschew ordinary
semantics altogether in favor of substitutional quantification. These latter
are still realistic, for they still distinguish truth from knowledge. Strict
finitists inspired by Vitters’s more
stringent epistemic constraints reject
even the open-futured objects admitted by Brouwer, and countenance only finite
or even only “feasible” objects. In the other direction, A. A. Markov and his
school in Russia introduced a syntactic notion of algorithm from which they
developed the field of “constructive analysis.” And the mathematician Errett Bishop, starting from a
Brouwer-like disenchantment with mathematical realism and with strictly formal
approaches, recovered large parts of classical analysis within a non-formal
constructive framework. All of these approaches assume abstract i.e., causally
isolated mathematical objects, and thus they have difficulty explaining the
wide applicability of mathematics constructive or otherwise within empirical
science. One response, Quine’s “indispensability” view, integrates mathematical
theories into the general network of empirical science. For Quine, mathematical
objects just like ordinary physical
objects exist simply in virtue of being
referents for terms in our best scientific theory. By contrast Hartry Field,
who denies that any abstract objects exist, also denies that any purely
mathematical assertions are literally true. Field attempts to recast physical
science in a relational language without mathematical terms and then use
Hilbert-style conservative extension results to explain the evident utility of
abstract mathematics. Hilary Putnam and Charles Parsons have each suggested
views according to which mathematics has no objects proper to itself, but
rather concerns only the possibilities of physical constructions. Recently,
Geoffrey Hellman has combined this modal approach with structuralism.
Epistemological issues. The equivalence proved in the 0s of several different
representations of computability to the reasoning representable in elementary
formalized arithmetic led Alonzo Church to suggest that the notion of finitary
reasoning had been precisely defined. Church’s thesis so named by Stephen
Kleene inspired Georg Kreisel’s investigations in the 0s and 70s of the general
conditions for rigorously analyzing other informal philosophical notions like
semantic consequence, Brouwerian choice sequences, and the very notion of a
set. Solomon Feferman has suggested more recently that this sort of piecemeal
conceptual analysis is already present in mathematics; and that this rather
than any global foundation is the true role of foundational research. In this
spirit, the relative consistency arguments of modern proof theory a
continuation of Hilbert’s Program provide information about the epistemic
grounds of various mathematical theories. Thus, on the one hand, proofs that a
seemingly problematic mathematical theory is a conservative extension of a more
secure theory provide some epistemic support for the former. In the other direction,
the fact that classical number theory is consistent relative to intuitionistic
number theory shows contra Hilbert that his view of constructive reasoning must
differ from that of the intuitionists. Gödel, who did not believe that
mathematics required any ties to empirical perception, suggested nevertheless
that we have a special nonsensory faculty of mathematical intuition that, when
properly cultivated, can help us decide among formally independent propositions
of set theory and other branches of mathematics. Charles Parsons, in contrast,
has examined the place of perception-like intuition in mathematical reasoning.
Parsons himself has investigated models of arithmetic and of set theory
composed of quasi-concrete objects e.g., numerals and other signs. Others
consistent with some of Parsons’s observations have given a Husserlstyle
phenomenological analysis of mathematical intuition. Frege’s influence
encouraged the logical positivists and other philosophers to view mathematical
knowledge as analytic or conventional. Poincaré responded that the principle of
mathematical induction could not be analytic, and Vitters also attacked this
conventionalism. In recent years, various formal independence results and
Quine’s attack on analyticity have encouraged philosophers and historians of
mathematics to focus on cases of mathematical knowledge that do not stem from
conceptual analysis or strict formal provability. Some writers notably Mark
Steiner and Philip Kitcher emphasize the analogies between empirical and mathematical
discovery. They stress such things as conceptual evolution in mathematics and
instances of mathematical generalizations supported by individual cases.
Kitcher, in particular, discusses the analogy between axiomatization in
mathematics and theoretical unification. Penelope Maddy has investigated the
intramathematical grounds underlying the acceptance of various axioms of set
theory. More generally, Imre Lakatos argued that most mathematical progress
stems from a concept-stretching process of conjecture, refutation, and proof.
This view has spawned a historical debate about whether critical developments
such as those mentioned above represent Kuhn-style revolutions or even crises,
or whether they are natural conceptual advances in a uniformly growing
science. Semantics -- philosophical
mathematics: Grice: “Not for nothing Plato’s academy motto was, “Lascite ogni
non-geometria voi ch’entrate!” ΑΓΕΩΜΕΤΡΗΤΟΣ
ΜΗΔΕΙΣ ΕΙΣΙΤΩ – “a-gemetretos medeis eiseto” Grice thought that “7 + 5 =
12” was either synthetic or analytic – “but hardly both”. Grice on real numbers
-- continuum problem, an open question that arose in Cantor’s theory of
infinite cardinal numbers. By definition, two sets have the same cardinal
number if there is a one-to-one correspondence between them. For example, the
function that sends 0 to 0, 1 to 2, 2 to 4, etc., shows that the set of even
natural numbers has the same cardinal number as the set of all natural numbers,
namely F0. That F0 is not the only infinite cardinal follows from Cantor’s
theorem: the power set of any set i.e., the set of all its subsets has a
greater cardinality than the set itself. So, e.g., the power set of the natural
numbers, i.e., the set of all sets of natural numbers, has a cardinal number
greater than F0. The first infinite number greater than F0 is F1; the next
after that is F2, and so on. When arithmetical operations are extended into the
infinite, the cardinal number of the power set of the natural numbers turns out
to be 2F0. By Cantor’s theorem, 2F0 must be greater than F0; the conjecture
that it is equal to F1 is Cantor’s continuum hypothesis in symbols, CH or 2F0 %
F1. Since 2F0 is also the cardinality of the set of points on a continuous
line, CH can also be stated in this form: any infinite set of points on a line
can be brought into one-to-one correspondence either with the set of natural
numbers or with the set of all points on the line. Cantor and others attempted
to prove CH, without success. It later became clear, due to the work of Gödel
and Cohen, that their failure was inevitable: the continuum hypothesis can
neither be proved nor disproved from the axioms of set theory ZFC. The question
of its truth or falsehood the continuum
problem remains open. Philosophical mathematics: Grice on “7 + 5 =
12” -- Dedekind, R. G. mathematician, one of the most important figures in the
mathematical analysis of foundational questions that took place in the late
nineteenth century. Philosophically, three things are interesting about
Dedekind’s work: 1 the insistence that the fundamental numerical systems of
mathematics must be developed independently of spatiotemporal or geometrical
notions; 2 the insistence that the numbers systems rely on certain mental
capacities fundamental to thought, in particular on the capacity of the mind to
“create”; and 3 the recognition that this “creation” is “creation” according to
certain key properties, properties that careful mathematical analysis reveals
as essential to the subject matter. 1 is a concern Dedekind shared with
Bolzano, Cantor, Frege, and Hilbert; 2 sets Dedekind apart from Frege; and 3
represents a distinctive shift toward the later axiomatic position of Hilbert
and somewhat away from the concern with the individual nature of the central
abstract mathematical objects which is a central concern of Frege. Much of
Dedekind’s position is sketched in the Habilitationsrede of 1854, the procedure
there being applied in outline to the extension of the positive whole numbers
to the integers, and then to the rational field. However, the two works best
known to philosophers are the monographs on irrational numbers Stetigkeit und
irrationale Zahlen, 1872 and on natural numbers Was sind und was sollen die
Zahlen?, 8, both of which pursue the procedure advocated in 1854. In both we
find an “analysis” designed to uncover the essential properties involved,
followed by a “synthesis” designed to show that there can be such systems, this
then followed by a “creation” of objects possessing the properties and nothing
more. In the 1872 work, Dedekind suggests that the essence of continuity in the
reals is that whenever the line is divided into two halves by a cut, i.e., into
two subsets A1 and A2 such that if p 1 A1 and q 1 A2, then p ‹ q and, if p 1 A1
and q ‹ p, then q 1 A1, and if p 1 A2 and q
p, then q 1 A2 as well, then there is real number r which “produces”
this cut, i.e., such that A1 % {p; p ‹ r}, and A2 % {p: r m p}. The task is
then to characterize the real numbers so that this is indeed true of them.
Dedekind shows that, whereas the rationals themselves do not have this
property, the collection of all cuts in the rationals does. Dedekind then
“defines” the irrationals through this observation, not directly as the cuts in
the rationals themselves, as was done later, but rather through the “creation”
of “new irrational numbers” to correspond to those rational cuts not hitherto
“produced” by a number. The 8 work starts from the notion of a “mapping” of one
object onto another, which for Dedekind is necessary for all exact thought.
Dedekind then develops the notion of a one-toone into mapping, which is then
used to characterize infinity “Dedekind infinity”. Using the fundamental notion
of a chain, Dedekind characterizes the notion of a “simply infinite system,”
thus one that is isomorphic to the natural number sequence. Thus, he succeeds
in the goal set out in the 1854 lecture: isolating precisely the characteristic
properties of the natural number system. But do simply infinite systems, in
particular the natural number system, exist? Dedekind now argues: Any infinite
system must Dedekind, Richard Dedekind, Richard 210 210 contain a simply infinite system Theorem
72. Correspondingly, Dedekind sets out to prove that there are infinite systems
Theorem 66, for which he uses an infamous argument reminiscent of Bolzano’s
from thirty years earlier involving “my thought-world,” etc. It is generally
agreed that the argument does not work, although it is important to remember
Dedekind’s wish to demonstrate that since the numbers are to be free creations
of the human mind, his proofs should rely only on the properties of the mental.
The specific act of “creation,” however, comes in when Dedekind, starting from
any simply infinite system, abstracts from the “particular properties” of this,
claiming that what results is the simply infinite system of the natural
numbers. Philosophical mathematics --
mathematical analysis, also called standard analysis, the area of mathematics
pertaining to the so-called real number system, i.e. the area that can be based
on an axiom set whose intended interpretation (standard model) has the set of
real numbers as its domain (universe of discourse). Thus analysis includes,
among its many subbranches, elementary algebra, differential and integral
calculus, differential equations, the calculus of variations, and measure
theory. Analytic geometry involves the application of analysis to geometry.
Analysis contains a large part of the mathematics used in mathematical physics.
The real numbers, which are representable by the ending and unending decimals,
are usefully construed as (or as corresponding to) distances measured, relative
to an arbitrary unit length, positively to the right and negatively to the left
of an arbitrarily fixed zero point along a geometrical straight line. In
particular, the class of real numbers includes as increasingly comprehensive
proper subclasses the natural numbers, the integers (positive, negative, and
zero), the rational numbers (or fractions), and the algebraic numbers (such as
the square root of two). Especially important is the presence in the class of
real numbers of non-algebraic (or transcendental) irrational numbers such as
pi. The set of real numbers includes arbitrarily small and arbitrarily large,
finite quantities, while excluding infinitesimal and infinite quantities.
Analysis, often conceived as the mathematics of continuous magnitude, contrasts
with arithmetic (natural number theory), which is regarded as the mathematics
of discrete magnitude. Analysis is often construed as involving not just the
real numbers but also the imaginary (complex) numbers. Traditionally analysis
is expressed in a second-order or higher-order language wherein its axiom set
has categoricity; each of its models is isomorphic to (has the same structure
as) the standard model. When analysis is carried out in a first-order language,
as has been increasingly the case since the 1950s, categoricity is impossible
and it has nonstandard mass noun mathematical analysis models in addition to
its standard model. A nonstandard model of analysis is an interpretation not
isomorphic to the standard model but nevertheless satisfying the axiom set.
Some of the nonstandard models involve objects reminiscent of the much-despised
“infinitesimals” that were essential to the Leibniz approach to calculus and
that were subject to intense criticism by Berkeley and other philosophers and
philosophically sensitive mathematicians. These non-standard models give rise
to a new area of mathematics, non-standard analysis, within which the
fallacious arguments used by Leibniz and other early analysts form the
heuristic basis of new and entirely rigorous proofs. -- mathematical function,
an operation that, when applied to an entity (set of entities) called its
argument(s), yields an entity known as the value of the function for that
argument(s). This operation can be expressed by a functional equation of the
form y % f(x) such that a variable y is said to be a function of a variable x
if corresponding to each value of x there is one and only one value of y. The x
is called the independent variable (or argument of the function) and the y the
dependent variable (or value of the function). (Some definitions consider the
relation to be the function, not the dependent variable, and some definitions
permit more than one value of y to correspond to a given value of x, as in x2 !
y2 % 4.) More abstractly, a function can be considered to be simply a special
kind of relation (set of ordered pairs) that to any element in its domain
relates exactly one element in its range. Such a function is said to be a
one-to-one correspondence if and only if the set {x,y} elements of S and {z,y}
elements of S jointly imply x % z. Consider, e.g., the function {(1,1), (2,4),
(3,9), (4,16), (5,25), (6,36)}, each of whose members is of the form (x,x2) –
the squaring function. Or consider the function {(0,1), (1,0)} – which we can
call the negation function. In contrast, consider the function for exclusive
alternation (as in you may have a beer or glass of wine, but not both). It is
not a one-to-one correspondence. For, 0 is the value of (0,1) and of (1,0), and
1 is the value of (0,0) and of (1,1). If we think of a function as defined on
the natural numbers – functions from Nn to N for various n (most commonly n % 1
or 2) – a partial function is a function from Nn to N whose domain is not
necessarily the whole of Nn (e.g., not defined for all of the natural numbers).
A total function from Nn to N is a function whose domain is the whole of Nn
(e.g., all of the natural numbers). -- mathematical induction, a method of
definition and a method of proof. A collection of objects can be defined
inductively. All members of such a collection can be shown to have a property
by an inductive proof. The natural numbers and the set of well-formed formulas
of a formal language are familiar examples of sets given by inductive
definition. Thus, the set of natural numbers is inductively defined as the
smallest set, N, such that: (B) 0 is in N and (I) for any x in N the successor
of x is in N. (B) is the basic clause and (I) the inductive clause of this
definition. Or consider a propositional language built on negation and
conjunction. We start with a denumerable class of atomic sentence symbols ATOM
= {A1, A2, . . .}. Then we can define the set of well-formed formulas, WFF, as
the smallest set of expressions such that: (B) every member of ATOM is in WFF
and (I) if x is in WFF then (- x) is in WFF and if x and y are in WFF then (x &
y) is in WFF. We show that all members of an inductively defined set have a
property by showing that the members specified by the basis have that property
and that the property is preserved by the induction. For example, we show that
all WFFs have an even number of parentheses by showing (i) that all ATOMs have
an even number of parentheses and (ii) that if x and y have an even number of
parentheses then so do (- x) and (x & y). This shows that the set of WFFs
with an even number of parentheses satisfies (B) and (I). The set of WFFs with
an even number of parentheses must then be identical to WFF, since – by
definition – WFF is the smallest set that satisfies (B) and (I). Ordinary proof
by mathematical induction shows that all the natural numbers, or all members of
some set with the order type of the natural numbers, share a property. Proof by
transfinite induction, a more general form of proof by mathematical induction,
shows that all members of some well-ordered set have a certain property. A set
is well-ordered if and only if every non-empty subset of it has a least
element. The natural numbers are well-ordered. It is a consequence of the axiom
of choice that every set can be well-ordered. Suppose that a set, X, is
well-ordered and that P is the subset of X whose mathematical constructivism
mathematical induction 541 4065m-r.qxd 08/02/1999 7:42 AM Page 541 members have
the property of interest. Suppose that it can be shown for any element x of X,
if all members of X less that x are in P, then so is x. Then it follows by
transfinite induction that all members of X have the property, that X % P. For
if X did not coincide with P, then the set of elements of x not in P would be
non-empty. Since X is well-ordered, this set would have a least element, x*.
But then by definition, all members of X less than x* are in P, and by
hypothesis x* must be in P after all.. -- mathematical intuitionism, a
twentieth-century movement that reconstructs mathematics in accordance with an
epistemological idealism and a Kantian metaphysics. Specifically, Brouwer, its
founder, held that there are no unexperienced truths and that mathematical
objects stem from the a priori form of those conscious acts which generate
empirical objects. Unlike Kant, however, Brouwer rejected the apriority of
space and based mathematics solely on a refined conception of the intuition of
time. Intuitionistic mathematics. According to Brouwer, the simplest
mathematical act is to distinguish between two diverse elements in the flow of
consciousness. By repeating and concatenating such acts we generate each of the
natural numbers, the standard arithmetical operations, and thus the rational
numbers with their operations as well. Unfortunately, these simple, terminating
processes cannot produce the convergent infinite sequences of rational numbers
that are needed to generate the continuum (the nondenumerable set of real
numbers, or of points on the line). Some “proto-intuitionists” admitted
infinite sequences whose elements are determined by finitely describable rules.
However, the set of all such algorithmic sequences is denumerable and thus can
scarcely generate the continuum. Brouwer’s first attempt to circumvent this –
by postulating a single intuition of an ever growing continuum – mirrored
Aristotle’s picture of the continuum as a dynamic whole composed of inseparable
parts. But this approach was incompatible with the set-theoretic framework that
Brouwer accepted, and by 1918 he had replaced it with the concept of an
infinite choice sequence. A choice sequence of rational numbers is, to be sure,
generated by a “rule,” but the rule may leave room for some degree of freedom
in choosing the successive elements. It might, e.g., simply require that the n
! 1st choice be a rational number that lies within 1/n of the nth choice. The
set of real numbers generated by such semideterminate sequences is demonstrably
non-denumerable. Following his epistemological beliefs, Brouwer admitted only
those properties of a choice sequence which are determined by its rule and by a
finite number of actual choices. He incorporated this restriction into his
version of set theory and obtained a series of results that conflict with
standard (classical) mathematics. Most famously, he proved that every function
that is fully defined over an interval of real numbers is uniformly continuous.
(Pictorially, the graph of the function has no gaps or jumps.) Interestingly,
one corollary of this theorem is that the set of real numbers cannot be divided
into mutually exclusive subsets, a property that rigorously recovers the
Aristotelian picture of the continuum. The clash with classical mathematics.
Unlike his disciple Arend Heyting, who considered intuitionistic and classical
mathematics as separate and therefore compatible subjects, Brouwer viewed them
as incompatible treatments of a single subject matter. He even occasionally
accused classical mathematics of inconsistency at the places where it differed
from intuitionism. This clash concerns the basic concept of what counts as a
mathematical object. Intuitionism allows, and classical mathematics rejects,
objects that may be indeterminate with respect to some of their properties.
Logic and language. Because he believed that mathematical constructions occur
in prelinguistic consciousness, Brouwer refused to limit mathematics by the
expressive capacity of any language. Logic, he claimed, merely codifies already
completed stages of mathematical reasoning. For instance, the principle of the
excluded middle stems from an “observational period” during which mankind
catalogued finite phenomena (with decidable properties); and he derided
classical mathematics for inappropriately applying this principle to infinitary
aspects of mathematics. Formalization. Brouwer’s views notwithstanding, in 1930
Heyting produced formal systems for intuitionistic logic (IL) and number
theory. These inspired further formalizations (even of the theory of choice
sequences) and a series of proof-theoretic, semantic, and algebraic studies
that related intuitionistic and classical formal systems. Stephen Kleene, e.g.,
interpreted IL and other intuitionistic formal systems using the classical
theory of recursive functions. Gödel, who showed that IL cannot coincide with
any finite many-valued logic, demonstrated its relation to the modal logic, S4;
and Kripke provided a formal semantics for IL similar to the possible worlds
semantics for S4. For a while the study of intuitionistic formal systems used
strongly classical methods, but since the 1970s intuitionistic methods have
been employed as well. Meaning. Heyting’s formalization reflected a theory of
meaning implicit in Brouwer’s epistemology and metaphysics, a theory that
replaces the traditional correspondence notion of truth with the notion of
constructive proof. More recently Michael Dummett has extended this to a
warranted assertability theory of meaning for areas of discourse outside of
mathematics. He has shown how assertabilism provides a strategy for combating
realism about such things as physical objects, mental objects, and the past. --
mathematical structuralism, the view that the subject of any branch of
mathematics is a structure or structures. The slogan is that mathematics is the
science of structure. Define a “natural number system” to be a countably
infinite collection of objects with one designated initial object and a
successor relation that satisfies the principle of mathematical induction.
Examples of natural number systems are the Arabic numerals and an infinite
sequence of distinct moments of time. According to structuralism, arithmetic is
about the form or structure common to natural number systems. Accordingly, a
natural number is something like an office in an organization or a place in a
pattern. Similarly, real analysis is about the real number structure, the form common
to complete ordered fields. The philosophical issues concerning structuralism
concern the nature of structures and their places. Since a structure is a
one-over-many of sorts, it is something like a universal. Structuralists have
defended analogues of some of the traditional positions on universals, such as
realism and nominalism. Philosophical mathematics -- metamathematics, the study
and establishment, by restricted (and, in particular, finitary) means, of the
consistency or reliability of the various systems of classical mathematics. The
term was apparently introduced, with pejorative overtones relating it to
‘metaphysics’, in the 1870s in connection with the discussion of non-Euclidean
geometries. It was introduced in the sense given here, shorn of negative
connotations, by Hilbert (see his “Neubegründung der Mathematik. Erste
Mitteilung,” 1922), who also referred to it as Beweistheorie or proof theory. A
few years later (specifically, in the 1930 papers “Über einige fundamentale
Begriffe der Metamathematik” and “Fundamentale Begriffe der Methodologie der
deduktiven Wissenschaften. I”) Tarski fitted it with a somewhat broader, less
restricted sense: broader in that the scope of its concerns was increased to
include not only questions of consistency, but also a host of other questions
(e.g. questions of independence, completeness and axiomatizability) pertaining
to what Tarski referred to as the “methodology of the deductive sciences”
(which was his synonym for ‘metamathematics’); less restricted in that the
standards of proof were relaxed so as to permit other than finitary – indeed,
other than constructive – means. On this broader conception of Tarski’s,
formalized deductive disciplines form the field of research of metamathematics
roughly in the same sense in which spatial entities form the field of research
in geometry or animals that of zoology. Disciplines, he said, are to be
regarded as sets of sentences to be investigated from the point of view of
their consistency, axiomatizability (of various types), completeness, and
categoricity or degree of categoricity, etc. Eventually (see the 1935 and 1936
papers “Grundzüge des Systemenkalkül, Erster Teil” and “Grundzüge der
Systemenkalkül, Zweiter Teil”) Tarski went on to include all manner of semantical
questions among the concerns of metamathematics, thus diverging rather sharply
from Hilbert’s original syntactical focus. Today, the terms ‘metatheory’ and
‘metalogic’ are used to signify that broad set of interests, embracing both
syntactical and semantical studies of formal languages and systems, which
Tarski came to include under the general heading of metamathematics. Those
having to do specifically with semantics belong to that more specialized branch
of modern logic known as model theory, while those dealing with purely
syntactical questions belong to what has come to be known as proof theory
(where this latter is now, however, permitted to employ other than finitary
methods in the proofs of its theorems). Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Philosophical
geometry, Plato, and Walter Pater.”
Refs.: H. P. Grice, “ΑΓΕΩΜΕΤΡΗΤΟΣ ΜΗΔΕΙΣ ΕΙΣΙΤΩ; or, the school of Plato.”
philosophical
theology:
Grice: “At Oxford, pretentious as they are, they like ‘divinity’ – there are
doctors in divinity!” -- philosophy of religion, the subfield of philosophy
devoted to the study of religious phenomena. Although religions are typically
complex systems of theory and practice, including both myths and rituals,
philosophers tend to concentrate on evaluating religious truth claims. In the major
theistic traditions, Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, the most important of
these claims concern the existence, nature, and activities of God. Such
traditions commonly understand God to be something like a person who is
disembodied, eternal, free, all-powerful, all-knowing, the creator and
sustainer of the universe, and the proper object of human obedience and
worship. One important question is whether this conception of the object of
human religious activity is coherent; another is whether such a being actually
exists. Philosophers of religion have sought rational answers to both
questions. The major theistic traditions draw a distinction between religious
truths that can be discovered and even known by unaided human reason and those
to which humans have access only through a special divine disclosure or
revelation. According to Aquinas, e.g., the existence of God and some things
about the divine nature can be proved by unaided human reason, but such
distinctively Christian doctrines as the Trinity and Incarnation cannot be thus
proved and are known to humans only because God has revealed them. Theists
disagree about how such divine disclosures occur; the main candidates for
vehicles of revelation include religious experience, the teachings of an inspired
religious leader, the sacred scriptures of a religious community, and the
traditions of a particular church. The religious doctrines Christian traditions
take to be the content of revelation are often described as matters of faith.
To be sure, such traditions typically affirm that faith goes beyond mere
doctrinal belief to include an attitude of profound trust in God. On most
accounts, however, faith involves doctrinal belief, and so there is a contrast
within the religious domain itself between faith and reason. One way to spell
out the contrast though not the only
way is to imagine that the content of
revelation is divided into two parts. On the one hand, there are those doctrines,
if any, that can be known by human reason but are also part of revelation; the
existence of God is such a doctrine if it can be proved by human reason alone.
Such doctrines might be accepted by some people on the basis of rational
argument, while others, who lack rational proof, accept them on the authority
of revelation. On the other hand, there are those doctrines that cannot be
known by human reason and for which the authority of revelation is the sole
basis. They are objects of faith rather than reason and are often described as
mysteries of faith. Theists disagree about how such exclusive objects of faith
are related to reason. One prominent view is that, although they go beyond
reason, they are in harmony with it; another is that they are contrary to
reason. Those who urge that such doctrines should be accepted despite the fact
that, or even precisely because, they are contrary to reason are known as
fideists; the famous slogan credo quia absurdum ‘I believe because it is
absurd’ captures the flavor of extreme fideism. Many scholars regard
Kierkegaard as a fideist on account of his emphasis on the paradoxical nature
of the Christian doctrine that Jesus of Nazareth is God incarnate. Modern
philosophers of religion have, for the most part, confined their attention to
topics treatable without presupposing the truth of any particular tradition’s
claims about revelation and have left the exploration of mysteries of faith to
the theologians of various traditions. A great deal of philosophical work
clarifying the concept of God has been prompted by puzzles that suggest some
incoherence in the traditional concept. One kind of puzzle concerns the
coherence of individual claims about the nature of God. Consider the
traditional affirmation that God is allpowerful omnipotent. Reflection on this
doctrine raises a famous question: Can God make a stone so heavy that even God
cannot lift it? No matter how this is answered, it seems that there is at least
one thing that even God cannot do, i.e., make such a stone or lift such a
stone, and so it appears that even God cannot be all-powerful. Such puzzles
stimulate attempts by philosophers to analyze the concept of omnipotence in a
way that specifies more precisely the scope of the powers coherently
attributable to an omnipotent being. To the extent that such attempts succeed,
they foster a deeper understanding of the concept of God and, if God exists, of
the divine nature. Another sort of puzzle concerns the consistency of
attributing two or more properties to philosophy of religion philosophy of
religion 696 696 God. Consider the
claim that God is both immutable and omniscient. An immutable being is one that
cannot undergo internal change, and an omniscient being knows all truths, and
believes no falsehoods. If God is omniscient, it seems that God must first know
and hence believe that it is now Tuesday and not believe that it is now
Wednesday and later know and hence believe that it is now Wednesday and not
believe that it is now Tuesday. If so, God’s beliefs change, and since change
of belief is an internal change, God is not immutable. So it appears that God
is not immutable if God is omniscient. A resolution of this puzzle would
further contribute to enriching the philosophical understanding of the concept
of God. It is, of course, one thing to elaborate a coherent concept of God; it
is quite another to know, apart from revelation, that such a being actually
exists. A proof of the existence of God would yield such knowledge, and it is
the task of natural theology to evaluate arguments that purport to be such
proofs. As opposed to revealed theology, natural theology restricts the
assumptions fit to serve as premises in its arguments to things naturally
knowable by humans, i.e., knowable without special revelation from supernatural
sources. Many people have hoped that such natural religious knowledge could be
universally communicated and would justify a form of religious practice that
would appeal to all humankind because of its rationality. Such a religion would
be a natural religion. The history of natural theology has produced a
bewildering variety of arguments for the existence of God. The four main types
are these: ontological arguments, cosmological arguments, teleological
arguments, and moral arguments. The earliest and most famous version of the
ontological argument was set forth by Anselm of Canterbury in chapter 2 of his
Proslogion. It is a bold attempt to deduce the existence of God from the
concept of God: we understand God to be a perfect being, something than which
nothing greater can be conceived. Because we have this concept, God at least
exists in our minds as an object of the understanding. Either God exists in the
mind alone, or God exists both in the mind and as an extramental reality. But
if God existed in the mind alone, then we could conceive of a being greater
than that than which nothing greater can be conceived, namely, one that also
existed in extramental reality. Since the concept of a being greater than that
than which nothing greater can be conceived is incoherent, God cannot exist in
the mind alone. Hence God exists not only in the mind but also in extramental
reality. The most celebrated criticism of this form of the argument was Kant’s,
who claimed that existence is not a real predicate. For Kant, a real predicate
contributes to determining the content of a concept and so serves as a part of
its definition. But to say that something falling under a concept exists does
not add to the content of a concept; there is, Kant said, no difference in
conceptual content between a hundred real dollars and a hundred imaginary dollars.
Hence whether or not there exists something that corresponds to a concept
cannot be settled by definition. The existence of God cannot be deduced from
the concept of a perfect being because existence is not contained in the
concept or the definition of a perfect being. Contemporary philosophical
discussion has focused on a slightly different version of the ontological
argument. In chapter 3 of Proslogion Anselm suggested that something than which
nothing greater can be conceived cannot be conceived not to exist and so exists
necessarily. Following this lead, such philosophers as Charles Hartshorne,
Norman Malcolm, and Alvin Plantinga have contended that God cannot be a
contingent being who exists in some possible worlds but not in others. The
existence of a perfect being is either necessary, in which case God exists in
every possible world, or impossible, in which case God exists in no possible
worlds. On this view, if it is so much as possible that a perfect being exists,
God exists in every possible world and hence in the actual world. The crucial
premise in this form of the argument is the assumption that the existence of a
perfect being is possible; it is not obviously true and could be rejected
without irrationality. For this reason, Plantinga concedes that the argument
does not prove or establish its conclusion, but maintains that it does make it
rational to accept the existence of God. The key premises of various
cosmological arguments are statements of obvious facts of a general sort about
the world. Thus, the argument to a first cause begins with the observation that
there are now things undergoing change and things causing change. If something
is a cause of such change only if it is itself caused to change by something
else, then there is an infinitely long chain of causes of change. But, it is
alleged, there cannot be a causal chain of infinite length. Therefore there is
something that causes change, but is not caused to change by anything else,
i.e., a first cause. Many critics of this form of the argument deny its
assumption that there cannot be an infinite causal regress or chain of causes.
This argument also fails to show that there is only one first cause and does
not prove that a first cause must have such divine attributes as omniscience, omnipotence,
and perfect goodness. A version of the cosmological argument that has attracted
more attention from contemporary philosophers is the argument from contingency
to necessity. It starts with the observation that there are contingent beings beings that could have failed to exist. Since
contingent beings do not exist of logical necessity, a contingent being must be
caused to exist by some other being, for otherwise there would be no
explanation of why it exists rather than not doing so. Either the causal chain
of contingent beings has a first member, a contingent being not caused by
another contingent being, or it is infinitely long. If, on the one hand, the
chain has a first member, then a necessary being exists and causes it. After
all, being contingent, the first member must have a cause, but its cause cannot
be another contingent being. Hence its cause has to be non-contingent, i.e., a
being that could not fail to exist and so is necessary. If, on the other hand,
the chain is infinitely long, then a necessary being exists and causes the
chain as a whole. This is because the chain as a whole, being itself
contingent, requires a cause that must be noncontingent since it is not part of
the chain. In either case, if there are contingent beings, a necessary being
exists. So, since contingent beings do exist, there is a necessary being that
causes their existence. Critics of this argument attack its assumption that
there must be an explanation for the existence of every contingent being.
Rejecting the principle that there is a sufficient reason for the existence of
each contingent thing, they argue that the existence of at least some
contingent beings is an inexplicable brute fact. And even if the principle of
sufficient reason is true, its truth is not obvious and so it would not be
irrational to deny it. Accordingly, William Rowe b.1 concludes that this
version of the cosmological argument does not prove the existence of God, but
he leaves open the question of whether it shows that theistic belief is reasonable.
The starting point of teleological arguments is the phenomenon of
goal-directedness in nature. Aquinas, e.g., begins with the claim that we see
that things which lack intelligence act for an end so as to achieve the best
result. Modern science has discredited this universal metaphysical teleology,
but many biological systems do seem to display remarkable adaptations of means
to ends. Thus, as William Paley 17431805 insisted, the eye is adapted to seeing
and its parts cooperate in complex ways to produce sight. This suggests an
analogy between such biological systems and human artifacts, which are known to
be products of intelligent design. Spelled out in mechanical terms, the analogy
grounds the claim that the world as a whole is like a vast machine composed of
many smaller machines. Machines are contrived by intelligent human designers.
Since like effects have like causes, the world as a whole and many of its parts
are therefore probably products of design by an intelligence resembling the
human but greater in proportion to the magnitude of its effects. Because this
form of the argument rests on an analogy, it is known as the analogical
argument for the existence of God; it is also known as the design argument
since it concludes the existence of an intelligent designer of the world. Hume
subjected the design argument to sustained criticism in his Dialogues
Concerning Natural Religion. If, as most scholars suppose, the character Philo
speaks for Hume, Hume does not actually reject the argument. He does, however,
think that it warrants only the very weak conclusion that the cause or causes
of order in the universe probably bear some remote analogy to human
intelligence. As this way of putting it indicates, the argument does not rule
out polytheism; perhaps different minor deities designed lions and tigers.
Moreover, the analogy with human artificers suggests that the designer or
designers of the universe did not create it from nothing but merely imposed
order on already existing matter. And on account of the mixture of good and
evil in the universe, the argument does not show that the designer or designers
are morally admirable enough to deserve obedience or worship. Since the time of
Hume, the design argument has been further undermined by the emergence of Darwinian
explanations of biological adaptations in terms of natural selection that give
explanations of such adaptations in terms of intelligent design stiff
competition. Some moral arguments for the existence of God conform to the
pattern of inference to the best explanation. It has been argued that the
hypothesis that morality depends upon the will of God provides the best
explanation of the objectivity of moral obligations. Kant’s moral argument,
which is probably the best-known specimen of this type, takes a different tack.
According to Kant, the complete good consists of perfect virtue rewarded with
perfect happiness, and virtue deserves to be rewarded with proportional
happiness because it makes one worthy to be happy. If morality is to command
the allegiance of reason, the complete good must be a real possibility, and so
practical reason is entitled to postulate that the conditions necessary to
guarantee its possibility obtain. As far as anyone can tell, nature and its
laws do not furnish such a guarantee; in this world, apparently, the virtuous
often suffer while the vicious flourish. And even if the operation of natural
laws were to produce happiness in proportion to virtue, this would be merely
coincidental, and hence finite moral agents would not have been made happy just
because they had by their virtue made themselves worthy of happiness. So
practical reason is justified in postulating a supernatural agent with
sufficient goodness, knowledge, and power to ensure that finite agents receive
the happiness they deserve as a reward for their virtue, though theoretical
reason can know nothing of such a being. Critics of this argument have denied
that we must postulate a systematic connection between virtue and happiness in
order to have good reasons to be moral. Indeed, making such an assumption might
actually tempt one to cultivate virtue for the sake of securing happiness
rather than for its own sake. It seems therefore that none of these arguments
by itself conclusively proves the existence of God. However, some of them might
contribute to a cumulative case for the existence of God. According to Richard
Swinburne, cosmological, teleological, and moral arguments individually
increase the probability of God’s existence even though none of them makes it more
probable than not. But when other evidence such as that deriving from
providential occurrences and religious experiences is added to the balance,
Swinburne concludes that theism becomes more probable than its negation.
Whether or not he is right, it does appear to be entirely correct to judge the
rationality of theistic belief in the light of our total evidence. But there is
a case to be made against theism too. Philosophers of religion are interested
in arguments against the existence of God, and fairness does seem to require
admitting that our total evidence contains much that bears negatively on the
rationality of belief in God. The problem of evil is generally regarded as the
strongest objection to theism. Two kinds of evil can be distinguished. Moral
evil inheres in the wicked actions of moral agents and the bad consequences
they produce. An example is torturing the innocent. When evil actions are
considered theologically as offenses against God, they are regarded as sins.
Natural evils are bad consequences that apparently derive entirely from the
operations of impersonal natural forces, e.g. the human and animal suffering
produced by natural catastrophes such as earthquakes and epidemics. Both kinds
of evil raise the question of what reasons an omniscient, omnipotent, and
perfectly good being could have for permitting or allowing their existence.
Theodicy is the enterprise of trying to answer this question and thereby to
justify the ways of God to humans. It is, of course, possible to deny the
presuppositions of the question. Some thinkers have held that evil is unreal;
others have maintained that the deity is limited and so lacks the power or
knowledge to prevent the evils that occur. If one accepts the presuppositions
of the question, the most promising strategy for theodicy seems to be to claim
that each evil God permits is necessary for some greater good or to avoid some
alternative to it that is at least as bad if not worse. The strongest form of
this doctrine is the claim made by Leibniz that this is the best of all
possible worlds. It is unlikely that humans, with their cognitive limitations,
could ever understand all the details of the greater goods for which evils are
necessary, assuming that such goods exist; however, we can understand how some evils
contribute to achieving goods. According to the soul-making theodicy of John
Hick b.2, which is rooted in a tradition going back to Irenaeus, admirable
human qualities such as compassion could not exist except as responses to
suffering, and so evil plays a necessary part in the formation of moral
character. But this line of thought does not seem to provide a complete
theodicy because much animal suffering occurs unnoticed by humans and child
abuse often destroys rather than strengthens the moral character of its
victims. Recent philosophical discussion has often focused on the claim that
the existence of an omniscient, omnipotent, and perfectly good being is
logically inconsistent with the existence of evil or of a certain quantity of
evil. This is the logical problem of evil, and the most successful response to
it has been the free will defense. Unlike a theodicy, this defense does not
speculate about God’s reasons for permitting evil but merely argues that God’s
existence is consistent with the existence of evil. Its key idea is that moral
good cannot exist apart from libertarian free actions that are not causally
determined. If God aims to produce moral good, God must create free creatures
upon whose cooperation he must depend, and so divine omnipotence is limited by
the freedom God confers on creatures. Since such creatures are also free to do
evil, it is possible that God could not have created a world containing moral
good but no moral evil. Plantinga extends the defense from moral to natural
evil by suggesting that it is also possible that all natural evil is due to the
free actions of non-human persons such as Satan and his cohorts. Plantinga and
Swinburne have also addressed the probabilistic problem of evil, which is the
claim that the existence of evil disconfirms or renders improbable the
hypothesis that God exists. Both of them argue for the conclusion that this is
not the case. Finally, it is worth mentioning three other topics on which
contemporary philosophers of religion have worked to good effect. Important
studies of the meaning and use of religious language were stimulated by the
challenge of logical positivism’s claim that theological language is
cognitively meaningless. Defenses of such Christian doctrines as the Trinity,
Incarnation, and Atonement against various philosophical objections have
recently been offered by people committed to elaborating an explicitly
Christian philosophy. And a growing appreciation of religious pluralism has
both sharpened interest in questions about the cultural relativity of religious
rationality and begun to encourage progress toward a comparative philosophy of
religions. Such work helps to make philosophy of religion a lively and diverse
field of inquiry. Grice: “It is extremely important that in a dictionary entry
we keep the ‘philosophical’ – surely we are not lower ourselves to the level of
a theologian – if I am a theologican, I am a philosophical theologian. -- theodicy from Grecian theos, ‘God’, and dike,
‘justice’, a defense of the justice or goodness of God in the face of doubts or
objections arising from the phenomena of evil in the world ‘evil’ refers here
to bad states of affairs of any sort. Many types of theodicy have been proposed
and vigorously debated; only a few can be sketched here. 1 It has been argued
that evils are logically necessary for greater goods e.g., hardships for the
full exemplification of certain virtues, so that even an omnipotent being
roughly, one whose power has no logically contingent limits would have a
morally sufficient reason to cause or permit the evils in order to obtain the
goods. Leibniz, in his Theodicy 1710, proposed a particularly comprehensive
theodicy of this type. On his view, God had adequate reason to bring into
existence the actual world, despite all its evils, because it is the best of
all possible worlds, and all actual evils are essential ingredients in it, so
that omitting any of them would spoil the design of the whole. Aside from
issues about whether actual evils are in fact necessary for greater goods, this
approach faces the question whether it assumes wrongly that the end justifies
the means. 2 An important type of theodicy traces some or all evils to sinful
free actions of humans or other beings such as angels created by God.
Proponents of this approach assume that free action in creatures is of great
value and is logically incompatible with divine causal control of the
creatures’ actions. It follows that God’s not intervening to prevent sins is
necessary, though the sins themselves are not, to the good of created freedom.
This is proposed as a morally sufficient reason for God’s not preventing them.
It is a major task for this type of theodicy to explain why God would permit
those evils that are not themselves free choices of creatures but are at most
consequences of such choices. 3 Another type of theodicy, both ancient and
currently influential among theologians, though less congenial to orthodox
traditions in the major theistic religions, proposes to defend God’s goodness
by abandoning the doctrine that God is omnipotent. On this view, God is
causally, rather than logically, unable to prevent many evils while pursuing
sufficiently great goods. A principal sponsor of this approach at present is
the movement known as process theology, inspired by Whitehead; it depends on a
complex metaphysical theory about the nature of causal relationships. 4 Other
theodicies focus more on outcomes than on origins. Some religious beliefs
suggest that God will turn out to have been very good to created persons by virtue
of gifts especially religious gifts, such as communion with God as supreme Good
that may be bestowed in a life Tetractys theodicy 910 910 after death or in religious experience
in the present life. This approach may be combined with one of the other types
of theodicy, or adopted by people who think that God’s reasons for permitting
evils are beyond our finding out. Then
there’s heologia naturalis Latin, ‘natural theology’, theology that uses the
methods of investigation and standards of rationality of any other area of
philosophy. Traditionally, the central problems of natural theology are proofs
for the existence of God and the problem of evil. In contrast with natural
theology, supernatural theology uses methods that are supposedly revealed by
God and accepts as fact beliefs that are similarly outside the realm of
rational acceptability. Relying on a prophet or a pope to settle factual
questions would be acceptable to supernatural, but not to natural, theology.
Nothing prevents a natural theologian from analyzing concepts that can be used
sanguinely by supernatural theologians, e.g., revelation, miracles,
infallibility, and the doctrine of the Trinity. Theologians often work in both
areas, as did, e.g., Anselm and Aquinas. For his brilliant critiques of
traditional theology, Hume deserves the title of “natural
anti-theologian.” Grice was totally
against “the philosophy of X” – never the philosophy of god – but philosophical
theology -- theological naturalism, the attempt to develop a naturalistic conception
of God. As a philosophical position, naturalism holds 1 that the only reliable
methods of knowing what there is are methods continuous with those of the
developed sciences, and 2 that the application of those methods supports the
view that the constituents of reality are either physical or are causally
dependent on physical things and their modifications. Since supernaturalism
affirms that God is purely spiritual and causally independent of physical
things, naturalists hold that either belief in God must be abandoned as
rationally unsupported or the concept of God must be reconstituted consistently
with naturalism. Earlier attempts to do the latter include the work of
Feuerbach and Comte. In twentieth-century
naturalism the most significant attempts to develop a naturalistic
conception of God are due to Dewey and Henry Nelson Wieman 45. In A Common
Faith Dewey proposed a view of God as the unity of ideal ends resulting from
human imagination, ends arousing us to desire and action. Supernaturalism, he argued,
was the product of a primitive need to convert the objects of desire, the
greatest ideals, into an already existing reality. In contrast to Dewey, Wieman
insisted on viewing God as a process in the natural world that leads to the
best that humans can achieve if they but submit to its working in their lives.
In his earlier work he viewed God as a cosmic process that not only works for
human good but is what actually produced human life. Later he identified God
with creative interchange, a process that occurs only within already existing
human communities. While Wieman’s God is not a human creation, as are Dewey’s
ideal ends, it is difficult to see how love and devotion are appropriate to a
natural process that works as it does without thought or purpose. Thus, while
Dewey’s God ideal ends lacks creative power but may well qualify as an object
of love and devotion, Wieman’s God a process in nature is capable of creative
power but, while worthy of our care and attention, does not seem to qualify as
an object of love and devotion. Neither view, then, satisfies the two
fundamental features associated with the traditional idea of God: possessing
creative power and being an appropriate object of supreme love and
devotion. H. P. Grice, “Why I never
pursued a doctorate in divinity!” --. philosophical theology: Grice: “My mother
was High Church, but my father was a non-conformist, and the fact that my
resident paternal aunt was a converted Roman certainly did not help!” --
Philosophical theology -- deism, the view that true religion is natural
religion. Some self-styled Christian deists accepted revelation although they
argued that its content is essentially the same as natural religion. Most
deists dismissed revealed religion as a fiction. God wants his creatures to be
happy and has ordained virtue as the means to it. Since God’s benevolence is
disinterested, he will ensure that the knowledge needed for happiness is
universally accessible. Salvation cannot, then, depend on special revelation.
True religion is an expression of a universal human nature whose essence is
reason and is the same in all times and places. Religious traditions such as
Christianity and Islam originate in credulity, political tyranny, and
priestcraft, which corrupt reason and overlay natural religion with impurities.
Deism is largely a seventeenth- and eighteenth-century phenomenon and was most
prominent in England. Among the more important English deists were John Toland
16701722, Anthony Collins 16761729, Herbert of Cherbury 15831648, Matthew
Tindal 16571733, and Thomas Chubb 16791747. Continental deists included
Voltaire and Reimarus. Thomas Paine and Elihu Palmer 17641806 were
prominent deists. Orthodox writers in
this period use ‘deism’ as a vague term of abuse. By the late eighteenth
century, the term came to mean belief in an “absentee God” who creates the
world, ordains its laws, and then leaves it to its own devices. Philosophical
theology -- de Maistre, Joseph-Marie, political theorist, diplomat, and Roman
Catholic exponent of theocracy. He was educated by the Jesuits in Turin. His
counterrevolutionary political philosophy aimed at restoring the foundations of
morality, the family, society, and the state in postrevolutionary Europe.
Against Enlightenment ideals, he reclaimed Thomism, defended the hereditary and
absolute monarchy, and championed ultramontanism The Pope, 1821. Considerations
on France 1796 argues that the decline of moral and religious values was
responsible for the “satanic” 1789 revolution. Hence Christianity and
Enlightenment philosophy were engaged in a fight to the death that he claimed
the church would eventually win. Deeply pessimistic about human nature, the
Essay on the Generating Principle of Political Constitutions 1810 traces the
origin of authority in the human craving for order and discipline. Saint
Petersburg Evenings 1821 urges philosophy to surrender to religion and reason
to faith. Philosophical theology -- divine attributes, properties of God;
especially, those properties that are essential and unique to God. Among
properties traditionally taken to be attributes of God, omnipotence,
omniscience, and omnibenevolence are naturally taken to mean having,
respectively, power, knowledge, and moral goodness to the maximum degree. Here
God is understood as an eternal or everlasting being of immense power,
knowledge, and goodness, who is the creator and sustainer of the universe and
is worthy of human worship. Omnipotence is maximal power. Some philosophers,
notably Descartes, have thought that omnipotence requires the ability to do
absolutely anything, including the logically impossible. Most classical
theists, however, understood omnipotence as involving vast powers, while
nevertheless being subject to a range of limitations of ability, including the
inability to do what is logically impossible, the inability to change the past
or to do things incompatible with what has happened, and the inability to do
things that cannot be done by a being who has other divine attributes, e.g., to
sin or to lie. Omniscience is unlimited knowledge. According to the most
straightforward account, omniscience is knowledge of all true propositions. But
there may be reasons for recognizing a limitation on the class of true
propositions that a being must know in order to be omniscient. For example, if
there are true propositions about the future, omniscience would then include
foreknowledge. But some philosophers have thought that foreknowledge of human
actions is incompatible with those actions being free. This has led some to
deny that there are truths about the future and others to deny that such truths
are knowable. In the latter case, omniscience might be taken to be knowledge of
all knowable truths. Or if God is eternal and if there are certain tensed or
temporally indexical propositions that can be known only by someone who is in
time, then omniscience presumably does not extend to such propositions. It is a
matter of controversy whether omniscience includes middle knowledge, i.e.,
knowledge of what an agent would do if other, counterfactual, conditions were to
obtain. Since recent critics of middle knowledge in contrast to Báñez and other
sixteenth-century Dominican opponents of Molina usually deny that the relevant
counterfactual conditionals alleged to be the object of such knowledge are
true, denying the possibility of middle knowledge need not restrict the class
of true propositions a being must know in order to be omniscient. Finally,
although the concept of omniscience might not itself constrain how an
omniscient being acquires its knowledge, it is usually held that God’s
knowledge is neither inferential i.e., derived from premises or evidence nor
dependent upon causal processes. Omnibenevolenceis, literally, complete desire
for good; less strictly, perfect moral goodness. Traditionally it has been
thought that God does not merely happen to be good but that he must be so and
that he is unable to do what is wrong. According to the former claim God is
essentially good; according to the latter he is impeccable. It is a matter of
controversy whether God is perfectly good in virtue of complying with an
external moral standard or whether he himself sets the standard for goodness.
Divine sovereignty is God’s rule over all of creation. According to this
doctrine God did not merely create the world and then let it run on its own; he
continues to govern it in complete detail according to his good plan.
Sovereignty is thus related to divine providence. A difficult question is how
to reconcile a robust view of God’s control of the world with libertarian free
will. Aseity or perseity is complete independence. In a straightforward sense,
God is not dependent on anyone or anything for his existence. According to
stronger interpretation of aseity, God is completely independent of everything
else, including his properties. This view supports a doctrine of divine
simplicity according to which God is not distinct from his properties.
Simplicity is the property of having no parts of any kind. According to the
doctrine of divine simplicity, God not only has no spatial or temporal parts,
but there is no distinction between God and his essence, between his various
attributes in him omniscience and omnipotence, e.g., are identical, and between
God and his attributes. Attributing simplicity to God was standard in medieval
theology, but the doctrine has seemed to many contemporary philosophers to be
baffling, if not incoherent. divine
command ethics, an ethical theory according to which part or all of morality
divine attributes divine command ethics 240
240 depends upon the will of God as promulgated by divine commands. This
theory has an important place in the history of Christian ethics. Divine
command theories are prominent in the Franciscan ethics developed by John Duns
Scotus and William Ockham; they are also endorsed by disciples of Ockham such
as d’Ailly, Gerson, and Gabriel Biel; both Luther and Calvin adopt divine
command ethics; and in modern British thought, important divine command
theorists include Locke, Berkeley, and Paley. Divine command theories are
typically offered as accounts of the deontological part of morality, which
consists of moral requirements obligation, permissions rightness, and
prohibitions wrongness. On a divine command conception, actions forbidden by
God are morally wrong because they are thus forbidden, actions not forbidden by
God are morally right because they are not thus forbidden, and actions
commanded by God are morally obligatory because they are thus commanded. Many
Christians find divine command ethics attractive because the ethics of love
advocated in the Gospels makes love the subject of a command. Matthew 22:3740
records Jesus as saying that we are commanded to love God and the neighbor.
According to Kierkegaard, there are two reasons to suppose that Christian love
of neighbor must be an obligation imposed by divine command: first, only an
obligatory love can be sufficiently extensive to embrace everyone, even one’s
enemies; second, only an obligatory love can be invulnerable to changes in its
objects, a love that alters not when it alteration finds. The chief objection
to the theory is that dependence on divine commands would make morality
unacceptably arbitrary. According to divine command ethics, murder would not be
wrong if God did not exist or existed but failed to forbid it. Perhaps the strongest
reply to this objection appeals to the doctrines of God’s necessary existence
and essential goodness. God could not fail to exist and be good, and so God
could not fail to forbid murder. In short, divine commands are not arbitrary
fiats. divine foreknowledge, God’s
knowledge of the future. It appears to be a straightforward consequence of
God’s omniscience that he has knowledge of the future, for presumably
omniscience includes knowledge of all truths and there are truths about the
future. Moreover, divine foreknowledge seems to be required by orthodox
religious commitment to divine prophecy and divine providence. In the former
case, God could not reliably reveal what will happen if he does know what will
happen. And in the latter case, it is difficult to see how God could have a
plan for what happens without knowing what that will be. A problem arises,
however, in that it has seemed to many that divine foreknowledge is
incompatible with human free action. Some philosophers notably Boethius have
reasoned as follows: If God knows that a person will do a certain action, then
the person must perform that action, but if a person must perform an action,
the person does not perform the action freely. So if God knows that a person
will perform an action, the person does not perform the action freely. This
reason for thinking that divine foreknowledge is incompatible with human free
action commits a simple modal fallacy. What must be the case is the conditional
that if God knows that a person will perform an action then the person will in
fact perform the action. But what is required to derive the conclusion is the
implausible claim that from the assumption that God knows that a person will
perform an action it follows not simply that the person will perform the action
but that the person must perform it. Perhaps other attempts to demonstrate the
incompatibility, however, are not as easily dismissed. One response to the
apparent dilemma is to say that there really are no such truths about the
future, either none at all or none about events, like future free actions, that
are not causally necessitated by present conditions. Another response is to
concede that there are truths about the future but to deny that truths about
future free actions are knowable. In this case omniscience may be understood as
knowledge, not of all truths, but of all knowable truths. A third, and
historically important, response is to hold that God is eternal and that from
his perspective everything is present and thus not future. These responses
implicitly agree that divine foreknowledge is incompatible with human freedom,
but they provide different accounts of omniscience according to which it does
not include foreknowledge, or, at any rate, not foreknowledge of future free
actions. Philosophical theology --
double truth, the theory that a thing can be true in philosophy or according to
reason while its opposite is true in theology or according to faith. It serves
as a response to conflicts between reason and faith. For example, on one interpretation
of Aristotle, there is only one rational human soul, whereas, according to
Christian theology, there are many rational human souls. The theory of double
truth was attributed to Averroes and to Latin Averroists such as Siger of
Brabant and Boethius of Dacia by their opponents, but it is doubtful that they
actually held it. Averroes seems to have held that a single truth is
scientifically formulated in philosophy and allegorically expressed in
theology. Latin Averroists apparently thought that philosophy concerns what
would have been true by natural necessity absent special divine intervention,
and theology deals with what is actually true by virtue of such intervention.
On this view, there would have been only one rational human soul if God had not
miraculously intervened to multiply what by nature could not be multiplied. No
one clearly endorsed the view that rational human souls are both only one and
also many in number. H. P. Grice, “Must
the Articles be 39 – and if we add one more, what might it say?.”
Implicatuum – implicatura, implicans,
implicatum, implicandum – implicans, what implies, implicatum, what is implied,
implicaturum, what is to imply, implicandum, what is to be implied, implicatura, the act of the implying.
Scientism: One of the twelve labours of H.
P. Grice --. Grice: “When Cicero coined ‘scientia’ out of scire he didn’t know
what he was doing!” -- philosophy of science, the branch of philosophy that is
centered on a critical examination of the sciences: their methods and their
results. One branch of the philosophy of science, methodology, is closely
related to the theory of knowledge. It explores the methods by which science
arrives at its posited truths concerning the world and critically explores
alleged rationales for these methods. Issues concerning the sense in which
theories are accepted in science, the nature of the confirmation relation
between evidence and hypothesis, the degree to which scientific claims can be
falsified by observational data, and the like, are the concern of methodology.
Other branches of the philosophy of science are concerned with the meaning and
content of the posited scientific results and are closely related to
metaphysics and the philosophy of language. Typical problems examined are the
nature of scientific laws, the cognitive content of scientific theories
referring to unobservables, and the structure of scientific explanations.
Finally, philosophy of science explores specific foundational questions arising
out of the specific results of the sciences. Typical questions explored might
be metaphysical presuppositions of space-time theories, the role of probability
in statistical physics, the interpretation of measurement in quantum theory,
the structure of explanations in evolutionary biology, and the like. Concepts
of the credibility of hypotheses. Some crucial concepts that arise when issues
of the credibility of scientific hypotheses are in question are the following:
Inductivism is the view that hypotheses can receive evidential support from
their predictive success with respect to particular cases falling under them.
If one takes the principle of inductive inference to be that the future will be
like the past, one is subject to the skeptical objection that this rule is
empty of content, and even self-contradictory, if any kind of “similarity” of
cases is permitted. To restore content and consistency to the rule, and for
other methodological purposes as well, it is frequently alleged that only
natural kinds, a delimited set of “genuine” properties, should be allowed in
the formulation of scientific hypotheses. The view that theories are first
arrived at as creative hypotheses of the scientist’s imagination and only then
confronted, for justificatory purposes, with the observational predictions
deduced from them, is called the hypotheticodeductive model of science. This
model is contrasted with the view that the very discovery of hypotheses is
somehow “generated” out of accumulated observational data. The view that
hypotheses are confirmed to the degree that they provide the “best explanatory
account” of the data is often called abduction and sometimes called inference
to the best explanation. The alleged relation that evidence bears to
hypothesis, warranting its truth but not, generally, guaranteeing that truth,
is called confirmation. Methodological accounts such as inductivism countenance
such evidential warrant, frequently speaking of evidence as making a hypothesis
probable but not establishing it with certainty. Probability in the
confirmational context is supposed to be a relationship holding between
propositions that is quantitative and is described by the formal theory of
probability. It is supposed to measure the “degree of support” that one
proposition gives to another, e.g. the degree of support evidential statements
give to a hypothesis allegedly supported by them. Scientific methodologists
often claim that science is characterized by convergence. This is the claim
that scientific theories in their historical order are converging to an
ultimate, final, and ideal theory. Sometimes this final theory is said to be
true because it corresponds to the “real world,” as in realist accounts of
convergence. In pragmatist versions this ultimate theory is the defining
standard of truth. It is sometimes alleged that one ground for choosing the
most plausible theory, over and above conformity of the theory with the
observational data, is the simplicity of the theory. Many versions of this
thesis exist, some emphasizing formal elements of the theory and others, e.g.,
emphasizing paucity of ontological commitment by the theory as the measure of
simplicity. It is sometimes alleged that in choosing which theory to believe,
the scientific community opts for theories compatible with the data that make
minimal changes in scientific belief necessary from those demanded by
previously held theory. The believer in methodological conservatism may also
try to defend such epistemic conservatism as normatively rational. An
experiment that can decisively show a scientific hypothesis to be false is
called a crucial experiment for the hypothesis. It is a thesis of many
philosophers that for hypotheses that function in theories and can only
confront observational data when conjoined with other theoretical hypotheses,
no absolutely decisive crucial experiment can exist. Concepts of the structure
of hypotheses. Here are some of the essential concepts encountered when it is
the structure of scientific hypotheses that is being explored: In its
explanatory account of the world, science posits novel entities and properties.
Frequently these are alleged to be not accessible to direct observation. A
theory is a set of hypotheses positing such entities and properties. Some
philosophers of science divide the logical consequences of a theory into those
referring only to observable things and features and those referring to the
unobservables as well. Various reductionist, eliminationist, and
instrumentalist approaches to theory agree that the full cognitive content of a
theory is exhausted by its observational consequences reported by its
observation sentences, a claim denied by those who espouse realist accounts of
theories. The view that the parts of a theory that do not directly relate
observational consequences ought not to be taken as genuinely referential at
all, but, rather, as a “mere linguistic instrument” allowing one to derive
observational results from observationally specifiable posits, is called
instrumentalism. From this point of view terms putatively referring to
unobservables fail to have genuine reference and individual non-observational
sentences containing such terms are not individually genuinely true or false.
Verificationism is the general name for the doctrine that, in one way or
another, the semantic content of an assertion is exhausted by the conditions
that count as warranting the acceptance or rejection of the assertion. There
are many versions of verificationist doctrines that try to do justice both to
the empiricist claim that the content of an assertion is its totality of
empirical consequences and also to a wide variety of anti-reductionist
intuitions about meaning. The doctrine that theoretical sentences must be
strictly translatable into sentences expressed solely in observational terms in
order that the theoretical assertions have genuine cognitive content is
sometimes called operationalism. The “operation” by which a magnitude is
determined to have a specified value, characterized observationally, is taken
to give the very meaning of attributing that magnitude to an object. The
doctrine that the meanings of terms in theories are fixed by the role the terms
play in the theory as a whole is often called semantic holism. According to the
semantic holist, definitions of theoretical terms by appeal to observational
terms cannot be given, but all of the theoretical terms have their meaning
given “as a group” by the structure of the theory as a whole. A related
doctrine in confirmation theory is that confirmation accrues to whole theories,
and not to their individual assertions one at a time. This is confirmational
holism. To see another conception of cognitive content, conjoin all the
sentences of a theory together. Then replace each theoretical term in the
sentence so obtained with a predicate variable and existentially quantify over
all the predicate variables so introduced. This is the Ramsey sentence for a
finitely axiomatized theory. This sentence has the same logical consequences
framable in the observational vocabulary alone as did the original theory. It
is often claimed that the Ramsey sentence for a theory exhausts the cognitive
content of the theory. The Ramsey sentence is supposed to “define” the meaning
of the theoretical terms of the original theory as well as have empirical
consequences; yet by asserting the existence of the theoretical properties, it
is sometimes alleged to remain a realist construal of the theory. The latter
claim is made doubtful, however, by the existence of “merely representational”
interpretations of the Ramsey sentence. Theories are often said to be so
related that one theory is reducible to another. The study of the relation
theories bear to one another in this context is said to be the study of
intertheoretic reduction. Such reductive claims can have philosophical origins,
as in the alleged reduction of material objects to sense-data or of
spatiotemporal relations to causal relations, or they can be scientific
discoveries, as in the reduction of the theory of light waves to the theory of
electromagnetic radiation. Numerous “models” of the reductive relation exist,
appropriate for distinct kinds and cases of reduction. The term scientific
realism has many and varied uses. Among other things that have been asserted by
those who describe themselves as scientific realists are the claims that
“mature” scientific theories typically refer to real features of the world,
that the history of past falsifications of accepted scientific theories does
not provide good reason for persistent skepticism as to the truth claims of
contemporary theories, and that the terms of theories that putatively refer to
unobservables ought to be taken at their referential face value and not
reinterpreted in some instrumentalistic manner. Internal realism denies
irrealist claims founded on the past falsification of accepted theories.
Internal realists are, however, skeptical of “metaphysical” claims of
“correspondence of true theories to the real world” or of any notion of truth
that can be construed in radically non-epistemic terms. While theories may converge
to some ultimate “true” theory, the notion of truth here must be understood in
some version of a Peircian idea of truth as “ultimate warranted assertability.”
The claim that any theory that makes reference to posited unobservable features
of the world in its explanatory apparatus will always encounter rival theories
incompatible with the original theory but equally compatible with all possible
observational data that might be taken as confirmatory of the original theory
is the claim of the underdetermination thesis. A generalization taken to have
“lawlike force” is called a law of nature. Some suggested criteria for
generalizations having lawlike force are the ability of the generalization to
back up the truth of claims expressed as counterfactual conditions; the ability
of the generalization to be confirmed inductively on the basis of evidence that
is only a proper subset of all the particular instances falling under the
generality; and the generalization having an appropriate place in the simple, systematic
hierarchy of generalizations important for fundamental scientific theories of
the world. The application of a scientific law to a given actual situation is
usually hedged with the proviso that for the law’s predictions to hold, “all
other, unspecified, features of the situation are normal.” Such a qualifying
clause is called a ceteris paribus clause. Such “everything else being normal”
claims cannot usually be “filled out,” revealing important problems concerning
the “open texture” of scientific claims. The claim that the full specification
of the state of the world at one time is sufficient, along with the laws of
nature, to fix the full state of the world at any other time, is the claim of
determinism. This is not to be confused with claims of total predictability,
since even if determinism were true the full state of the world at a time might
be, in principle, unavailable for knowledge. Concepts of the foundations of
physical theories. Here, finally, are a few concepts that are crucial in discussing
the foundations of physical theories, in particular theories of space and time
and quantum theory: The doctrine that space and time must be thought of as a
family of spatial and temporal relations holding among the material
constituents of the universe is called relationism. Relationists deny that
“space itself” should be considered an additional constituent of the world over
and above the world’s material contents. The doctrine that “space itself” must
be posited as an additional constituent of the world over and above ordinary
material things of the world is substantivalism. Mach’s principle is the demand
that all physical phenomena, including the existence of inertial forces used by
Newton to argue for a substantivalist position, be explainable in purely
relationist terms. Mach speculated that Newton’s explanation for the forces in
terms of acceleration with respect to “space itself” could be replaced with an
explanation resorting to the acceleration of the test object with respect to
the remaining matter of the universe the “fixed stars”. In quantum theory the
claim that certain “conjugate” quantities, such as position and momentum,
cannot be simultaneously “determined” to arbitrary degrees of accuracy is the
uncertainty principle. The issue of whether such a lack of simultaneous exact
“determination” is merely a limitation on our knowledge of the system or is,
instead, a limitation on the system’s having simultaneous exact values of the
conjugate quantities, is a fundamental one in the interpretation of quantum
mechanics. Bell’s theorem is a mathematical result aimed at showing that the
explanation of the statistical correlations that hold between causally
noninteractive systems cannot always rely on the positing that when the systems
did causally interact in the past independent values were fixed for some
feature of each of the two systems that determined their future observational
behavior. The existence of such “local hidden variables” would contradict the
correlational predictions of quantum mechanics. The result shows that quantum
mechanics has a profoundly “non-local” nature. Can quantum probabilities and
correlations be obtained as averages over variables at some deeper level than
those specifying the quantum state of a system? If such quantities exist they
are called hidden variables. Many different types of hidden variables have been
proposed: deterministic, stochastic, local, non-local, etc. A number of proofs
exist to the effect that positing certain types of hidden variables would force
probabilistic results at the quantum level that contradict the predictions of
quantum theory. Complementarity was the term used by Niels Bohr to describe
what he took to be a fundamental structure of the world revealed by quantum
theory. Sometimes it is used to indicate the fact that magnitudes occur in
conjugate pairs subject to the uncertainty relations. Sometimes it is used more
broadly to describe such aspects as the ability to encompass some phenomena in
a wave picture of the world and other phenomena in a particle picture, but
implying that no one picture will do justice to all the experimental results.
The orthodox formalization of quantum theory posits two distinct ways in which
the quantum state can evolve. When the system is “unobserved,” the state evolves
according to the deterministic Schrödinger equation. When “measured,” however,
the system suffers a discontinuous “collapse of the wave packet” into a new
quantum state determined by the outcome of the measurement process.
Understanding how to reconcile the measurement process with the laws of dynamic
evolution of the system is the measurement problem. Conservation and symmetry.
A number of important physical principles stipulate that some physical quantity
is conserved, i.e. that the quantity of it remains invariant over time. Early
conservation principles were those of matter mass, of energy, and of momentum.
These became assimilated together in the relativistic principle of the
conservation of momentum-energy. Other conservation laws such as the conservation
of baryon number arose in the theory of elementary particles. A symmetry in
physical theory expressed the invariance of some structural feature of the
world under some transformation. Examples are translation and rotation
invariance in space and the invariance under transformation from one uniformly
moving reference frame to another. Such symmetries express the fact that
systems related by symmetry transformations behave alike in their physical
evolution. Some symmetries are connected with space-time, such as those noted
above, whereas others such as the symmetry of electromagnetism under socalled
gauge transformations are not. A very important result of the mathematician
Emma Noether shows that each conservation law is derivable from the existence
of an associated underlying symmetry. Chaos theory and chaotic systems. In the
history of the scientific study of deterministic systems, the paradigm of
explanation has been the prediction of the future states of a system from a
specification of its initial state. In order for such a prediction to be
useful, however, nearby initial states must lead to future states that are
close to one another. This is now known to hold only in exceptional cases. In
general deterministic systems are chaotic systems, i.e., even initial states
very close to one another will lead in short intervals of time to future states
that diverge quickly from one another. Chaos theory has been developed to
provide a wide range of concepts useful for describing the structure of the
dynamics of such chaotic systems. The theory studies the features of a system
that will determine if its evolution is chaotic or non-chaotic and provides the
necessary descriptive categories for characterizing types of chaotic motion.
Randomness. The intuitive distinction between a sequence that is random and one
that is orderly plays a role in the foundations of probability theory and in
the scientific study of dynamical systems. But what is a random sequence?
Subjectivist definitions of randomness focus on the inability of an agent to
determine, on the basis of his knowledge, the future occurrences in the
sequence. Objectivist definitions of randomness seek to characterize it without
reference to the knowledge of any agent. Some approaches to defining objective
randomness are those that require probability to be the same in the original
sequence and in subsequences “mechanically” selectable from it, and those that
define a sequence as random if it passes every “effectively constructible”
statistical test for randomness. Another important attempt to characterize
objective randomness compares the length of a sequence to the length of a
computer program used to generate the sequence. The basic idea is that a
sequence is random if the computer programs needed to generate the sequence are
as long as the sequence itself. H. P.
Grice, “My labour with Scientism.”
Scire – scitum -- scientism: Grice: “Winch
is not only happy with natural science that he wants a social science –
linguistics included!” -- philosophy of the social sciences, the study of the
logic and methods of the social sciences. Central questions include: What are
the criteria of a good social explanation? How if at all are the social
sciences distinct from the natural sciences? Is there a distinctive method for
social research? Through what empirical procedures are social science
assertions to be evaluated? Are there irreducible social laws? Are there causal
relations among social phenomena? Do social facts and regularities require some
form of reduction to facts about individuals? What is the role of theory in
social explanation? The philosophy of social science aims to provide an
interpretation of the social sciences that answers these questions. The
philosophy of social science, like that of natural science, has both a
descriptive and a prescriptive side. On the one hand, the field is about the
social sciences the explanations,
methods, empirical arguments, theories, hypotheses, etc., that actually occur
in the social science literature. This means that the philosopher needs
extensive knowledge of several areas of social science research in order to be
able to formulate an analysis of the social sciences that corresponds
appropriately to scientists’ practice. On the other hand, the field is
epistemic: it is concerned with the idea that scientific theories and
hypotheses are put forward as true or probable, and are justified on rational
grounds empirical and theoretical. The philosopher aims to provide a critical
evaluation of existing social science methods and practices insofar as these
methods are found to be less truth-enhancing than they might be. These two
aspects of the philosophical enterprise suggest that philosophy of social
science should be construed as a rational reconstruction of existing social science
practice a reconstruction guided by
existing practice but extending beyond that practice by identifying faulty
assumptions, forms of reasoning, and explanatory frameworks. Philosophers have
disagreed over the relation between the social and natural sciences. One
position is naturalism, according to which the methods of the social sciences
should correspond closely to those of the natural sciences. This position is
closely related to physicalism, the doctrine that all higher-level phenomena
and regularities including social
phenomena are ultimately reducible to
physical entities and the laws that govern them. On the other side is the view
that the social sciences are inherently distinct from the natural sciences.
This perspective holds that social phenomena are metaphysically distinguishable
from natural phenomena because they are intentional they depend on the meaningful actions of
individuals. On this view, natural phenomena admit of causal explanation, whereas
social phenomena require intentional explanation. The anti-naturalist position
also maintains that there is a corresponding difference between the methods
appropriate to natural and social science. Advocates of the Verstehen method
hold that there is a method of intuitive interpretation of human action that is
radically distinct from methods of inquiry in the natural sciences. One
important school within the philosophy of social science takes its origin in
this fact of the meaningfulness of human action. Interpretive sociology
maintains that the goal of social inquiry is to provide interpretations of
human conduct within the context of culturally specific meaningful
arrangements. This approach draws an analogy between literary texts and social
phenomena: both are complex systems of meaningful elements, and the goal of the
interpreter is to provide an interpretation of the elements that makes sense of
them. In this respect social science involves a hermeneutic inquiry: it
requires that the interpreter should tease out the meanings underlying a particular
complex of social behavior, much as a literary critic pieces together an
interpretation of the meaning of a complex philosophy of the social sciences
philosophy of the social sciences 704
704 literary text. An example of this approach is Weber’s treatment of
the relation between capitalism and the Protestant ethic. Weber attempts to
identify the elements of western European culture that shaped human action in
this environment in such a way as to produce capitalism. On this account, both
Calvinism and capitalism are historically specific complexes of values and
meanings, and we can better understand the emergence of capitalism by seeing
how it corresponds to the meaningful structures of Calvinism. Interpretive
sociologists often take the meaningfulness of social phenomena to imply that
social phenomena do not admit of causal explanation. However, it is possible to
accept the idea that social phenomena derive from the purposive actions of
individuals without relinquishing the goal of providing causal explanations of
social phenomena. For it is necessary to distinguish between the general idea
of a causal relation between two events or conditions and the more specific
idea of “causal determination through strict laws of nature.” It is true that
social phenomena rarely derive from strict laws of nature; wars do not result
from antecedent political tensions in the way that earthquakes result from
antecedent conditions in plate tectonics. However, since non-deterministic
causal relations can derive from the choices of individual persons, it is
evident that social phenomena admit of causal explanation, and in fact much
social explanation depends on asserting causal relations between social events
and processes e.g., the claim that the
administrative competence of the state is a crucial causal factor in
determining the success or failure of a revolutionary movement. A central goal
of causal explanation is to discover the conditions existing prior to the event
that, given the law-governed regularities among phenomena of this sort, were
sufficient to produce this event. To say that C is a cause of E is to assert
that the occurrence of C, in the context of a field of social processes and
mechanisms F, brought about E or increased the likelihood of the occurrence of
E. Central to causal arguments in the social sciences is the idea of a causal
mechanism a series of events or actions
leading from cause to effect. Suppose it is held that the extension of a
trolley line from the central city to the periphery caused the deterioration of
public schools in the central city. In order to make out such a claim it is
necessary to provide some account of the social and political mechanisms that
join the antecedent condition to the consequent. An important variety of causal
explanation in social science is materialist explanation. This type of
explanation attempts to explain a social feature in terms of features of the
material environment in the context of which the social phenomenon occurs.
Features of the environment that often appear in materialist explanations
include topography and climate; thus it is sometimes maintained that banditry
thrives in remote regions because the rugged terrain makes it more difficult
for the state to repress bandits. But materialist explanations may also refer
to the material needs of society e.g.,
the need to produce food and other consumption goods to support the population.
Thus Marx holds that it is the development of the “productive forces” technology
that drives the development of property relations and political systems. In
each case the materialist explanation must refer to the fact of human
agency the fact that human beings are
capable of making deliberative choices on the basis of their wants and
beliefs in order to carry out the explanation;
in the banditry example, the explanation depends on the fact that bandits are
prudent enough to realize that their prospects for survival are better in the
periphery than in the core. So materialist explanations too accept the point
that social phenomena depend on the purposive actions of individuals. A central
issue in the philosophy of social science involves the relation between social
regularities and facts about individuals. Methodological individualism is the
position that asserts the primacy of facts about individuals over facts about
social entities. This doctrine takes three forms: a claim about social
entities, a claim about social concepts, and a claim about social regularities.
The first version maintains that social entities are reducible to ensembles of
individuals as an insurance company
might be reduced to the ensemble of employees, supervisors, managers, and
owners whose actions constitute the company. Likewise, it is sometimes held
that social concepts must be reducible to concepts involving only
individuals e.g., the concept of a
social class might be defined in terms of concepts pertaining only to
individuals and their behavior. Finally, it is sometimes held that social
regularities must be derivable from regularities of individual behavior. There
are several positions opposed to methodological individualism. At the extreme
there is methodological holism the
doctrine that social entities, facts, and laws are autonomous and irreducible;
for example, that social structures such as the state have dynamic properties
independent of the beliefs and purposes of the particular persons who occupy
positions within the structure. A third position intermediate between these two
holds that every social explanation requires microfoundations an account of the circumstances at the
individual level that led individuals to behave in such ways as to bring about
the observed social regularities. If we observe that an industrial strike is
successful over an extended period of time, it is not sufficient to explain
this circumstance by referring to the common interest that members of the union
have in winning their demands. Rather, we need information about the
circumstances of the individual union member that induce him or her to
contribute to this public good. The microfoundations dictum does not require,
however, that social explanations be couched in non-social concepts; instead,
the circumstances of individual agents may be characterized in social terms.
Central to most theories of explanation is the idea that explanation depends on
general laws governing the phenomena in question. Thus the discovery of the
laws of electrodynamics permitted the explanation of a variety of
electromagnetic phenomena. But social phenomena derive from the actions of purposive
men and women; so what kinds of regularities are available on the basis of
which to provide social explanations? A fruitful research framework in the
social sciences is the idea that men and women are rational, so it is possible
to explain their behavior as the outcome of a deliberation about means of
achieving their individual ends. This fact in turn gives rise to a set of
regularities about individual behavior that may be used as a ground for social
explanation. We may explain some complex social phenomenon as the aggregate
result of the actions of a large number of individual agents with a
hypothesized set of goals within a structured environment of choice. Social
scientists have often been inclined to offer functional explanations of social
phenomena. A functional explanation of a social feature is one that explains
the presence and persistence of the feature in terms of the beneficial
consequences the feature has for the ongoing working of the social system as a
whole. It might be held, e.g., that sports clubs in working-class Britain exist
because they give working-class people a way of expending energy that would
otherwise go into struggles against an exploitative system, thus undermining
social stability. Sports clubs are explained, then, in terms of their
contribution to social stability. This type of explanation is based on an
analogy between biology and sociology. Biologists explain species traits in
terms of their contribution to reproductive fitness, and sociologists sometimes
explain social traits in terms of their contribution to “social” fitness.
However, the analogy is misleading, because there is a general mechanism
establishing functionality in the biological realm that is not present in the
social realm. This is the mechanism of natural selection, through which a
species arrives at a set of traits that are locally optimal. There is no
analogous process at work in the social realm, however; so it is groundless to
suppose that social traits exist because of their beneficial consequences for
the good of society as a whole or important subsystems within society. So
functional explanations of social phenomena must be buttressed by specific
accounts of the causal processes that underlie the postulated functional
relationships. Grice: “It’s a good thing I studied at Oxford: at other places
you HAVE to learn a non-Indo-Euroopean lingo!” --.
physicalism: One of the twelve labours of
H. P. Grice. (“As different from Naturalism, you know.”) - Churchland, p. s.,
philosopher and advocate of neurophilosophy. She received her B.Phil. from
Oxford in 9 and held positions at the Unichün-tzu Churchland, Patricia Smith
140 140 versity of Manitoba and the
Institute for Advanced Studies at Princeton, settling at the
ofCalifornia,SanDiego, with appointments in philosophy and the Institute for
Neural Computation. Skeptical of philosophy’s a priori specification of mental
categories and dissatisfied with computational psychology’s purely top-down
approach to their function, Churchland began studying the brain at the of Manitoba medical school. The result was a
unique merger of science and philosophy, a “neurophilosophy” that challenged
the prevailing methodology of mind. Thus, in a series of articles that includes
“Fodor on Language Learning” 8 and “A Perspective on Mind-Brain Research” 0,
she outlines a new neurobiologically based paradigm. It subsumes simple
non-linguistic structures and organisms, since the brain is an evolved organ;
but it preserves functionalism, since a cognitive system’s mental states are
explained via high-level neurofunctional theories. It is a strategy of
cooperation between psychology and neuroscience, a “co-evolutionary” process
eloquently described in Neurophilosophy 6 with the prediction that genuine
cognitive phenomena will be reduced, some as conceptualized within the
commonsense framework, others as transformed through the sciences. The same
intellectual confluence is displayed through Churchland’s various
collaborations: with psychologist and computational neurobiologist Terrence
Sejnowski in The Computational Brain 2; with neuroscientist Rodolfo Llinas in
The Mind-Brain Continuum 6; and with philosopher and husband Paul Churchland in
On the Contrary 8 she and Paul Churchland are jointly appraised in R. McCauley,
The Churchlands and Their Critics, 6. From the viewpoint of neurophilosophy,
interdisciplinary cooperation is essential for advancing knowledge, for the
truth lies in the intertheoretic details. Churchland: Paul M. b.2, -born philosopher, leading proponent of eliminative
materialism. He received his Ph.D. from the
of Pittsburgh in 9 and held positions at the Universities of Toronto,
Manitoba, and the Institute for Advanced Studies at Princeton. He is professor
of philosophy and member of the Institute for Neural Computation at the of California, San Diego. Churchland’s
literary corpus constitutes a lucidly written, scientifically informed
narrative where his neurocomputational philosophy unfolds. Scientific Realism
and the Plasticity of Mind 9 maintains that, though science is best construed
realistically, perception is conceptually driven, with no observational given,
while language is holistic, with meaning fixed by networks of associated usage.
Moreover, regarding the structure of science, higher-level theories should be
reduced by, incorporated into, or eliminated in favor of more basic theories
from natural science, and, in the specific case, commonsense psychology is a
largely false empirical theory, to be replaced by a non-sentential,
neuroscientific framework. This skepticism regarding “sentential” approaches is
a common thread, present in earlier papers, and taken up again in “Eliminative
Materialism and the Propositional Attitudes” 1. When fully developed, the
non-sentential, neuroscientific framework takes the form of connectionist
network or parallel distributed processing models. Thus, with essays in A
Neurocomputational Perspective 9, Churchland adds that genuine psychological
processes are sequences of activation patterns over neuronal networks. Scientific
theories, likewise, are learned vectors in the space of possible activation
patterns, with scientific explanation being prototypical activation of a
preferred vector. Classical epistemology, too, should be neurocomputationally
naturalized. Indeed, Churchland suggests a semantic view whereby synonymy, or
the sharing of concepts, is a similarity between patterns in neuronal
state-space. Even moral knowledge is analyzed as stored prototypes of social
reality that are elicited when an individual navigates through other
neurocomputational systems. The entire picture is expressed in The Engine of
Reason, the Seat of the Soul 6 and, with his wife Patricia Churchland, by the
essays in On the Contrary 8. What has emerged is a neurocomputational
embodiment of the naturalist program, a panphilosophy that promises to capture
science, epistemology, language, and morals in one broad sweep of its
connectionist net. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Physicalism and naturalism.” physicalism:
On second thoughts, Grice saw that naturalism and physicalism were synonymous,
but kept both! One of the twelve labours of Grice. in the widest sense of the
term, materialism applied to the question of the nature of mind. So construed,
physicalism is the thesis call it
ontological physicalism that whatever
exists or occurs is ultimately constituted out of physical entities. But
sometimes ‘physicalism’ is used to refer to the thesis that whatever exists or
occurs can be completely described in the vocabulary of physics. Such a view
goes with either reductionism or eliminativism about the mental. Here
reductionism is the view that psychological explanations, including
explanations in terms of “folk-psychological” concepts such as those of belief
and desire, are reducible to explanations formulable in a physical vocabulary,
which in turn would imply that entities referred to in psychological
explanations can be fully described in physical terms; and elminativism is the
view that nothing corresponds to the terms in psychological explanations, and
that the only correct explanations are in physical terms. The term
‘physicalism’ appears to have originated in the Vienna Circle, and the
reductionist version initially favored there was a version of behaviorism:
psychological statements were held to be translatable into behavioral
statements, mainly hypothetical conditionals, expressible in a physical
vocabulary. The psychophysical identity theory held by Herbert Feigl, Smart,
and others, sometimes called type physicalism, is reductionist in a somewhat
different sense. This holds that mental states and events are identical with
neurophysiological states and events. While it denies that there can be
analytic, meaning-preserving translations of mental statements into
physicalistic ones, it holds that by means of synthetic “bridge laws,”
identifying mental types with physical ones, mental statements can in principle
be tr. into physicalistic ones with which they are at least nomologically
equivalent if the terms in the bridge laws are rigid designators, the equivalence
will be necessary. The possibility of such a translation is typically denied by
functionalist accounts of mind, on the grounds that the same mental state may
have indefinitely many different physical realizations, and sometimes on the
grounds that it is logically possible, even if it never happens, that mental
states should be realized non-physically. In his classic paper “The ‘mental’
and the ‘physical’ “ 8, Feigl distinguishes two senses of ‘physical’:
‘physical1’ and ‘physical2’. ‘Physical1’ is practically synonymous with
‘scientific’, applying to whatever is “an essential part of the coherent and
adequate descriptive and explanatory account of the spatiotemporal world.”
‘Physical2’ refers to “the type of concepts and laws which suffice in principle
for the explanation and prediction of inorganic processes.” It would seem that
if Cartesian dualism were true, supposing that possible, then once an
integrated science of the interaction of immaterial souls and material bodies
had been developed, concepts for describing the former would count as
physical1. Construed as an ontological doctrine, physicalism says that whatever
exists or occurs is entirely constituted out of those entities that constitute
inorganic things and processes. Construed as a reductionist or elminativist
thesis about description and explanation, it is the claim that a vocabulary
adequate for describing and explaining inorganic things and processes is
adequate for describing and explaining whatever exists. While the second of
these theses seems to imply the first, the first does not imply the second. It
can be questioned whether the notion of a “full” description of what exists
makes sense. And many ontological physicalists materialists hold that a
reduction to explanations couched in the terminology of physics is impossible,
not only in the case of psychological explanations but also in the case of
explanations couched in the terminology of such special sciences as biology.
Their objection to such reduction is not merely that a purely physical
description of e.g. biological or psychological phenomena would be unwieldy; it
is that such descriptions necessarily miss important laws and generalizations,
ones that can only be formulated in terms of biological, psychological, etc.,
concepts. If ontological physicalists materialists are not committed to the
reducibility of psychology to physics, neither are they committed to any sort
of identity theory claiming that entities picked out by mental or psychological
descriptions are identical to entities fully characterizable by physical
descriptions. As already noted, materialists who are functionalists deny that
there are typetype identities between mental entities and physical ones. And
some deny that materialists are even committed to token-token identities,
claiming that any psychological event could have had a different physical
composition and so is not identical to any event individuated in terms of a
purely physical taxonomy. Refs.: H. P.
Grice, “From Physicalism to Naturalism – and Back: fighting two at once!”
natura: the Grecian
equivalent is “physis,” – whereas the Roman idea has to do with ‘birth,’ cf.
‘renaissance,’ the Grecian idea has to do with ‘growth,’ Grecian term for nature, primarily used to
refer to the nature or essence of a living thing Aristotle, Metaphysics V.4.
Physis is defined by Aristotle in Physics II.1 as a source of movement and rest
that belongs to something in virtue of itself, and identified by him primarily
with the form, rather than the matter, of the thing. The term is also used to
refer to the natural world as a whole. Physis is often contrasted with techne,
art; in ethics it is also contrasted with nomos, convention, e.g. by Callicles
in Plato’s Gorgias 482e ff., who distinguishes natural from conventional justice.
physiologicum: Oddly, among the twelve isms that attack Grice on his
ascent to the city of eternal truth, there is Naturalism and Physicalism – but
Roman natura is Grecian physis. In “Some remarks about the senses,” Grice
distinguishes a physicalist identification of the senses (in terms of the
different stimuli and the mechanisms that connects the organs to the brain)
versus other criteria, notably one involving introspection and the nature of
‘experience’ – “providing,” he adds, that ‘seeing’ is an experience! Grice
would use ‘natural,’ relying on the idea that it’s Grecian ‘physis.’ Liddell and Scott
have “φύσις,” from “φύω,” and which they render as “origin.” the natural form
or constitution of a person or thing as the result of growth, and hence nature,
constitution, and nature as an originating power, “φ. λέγεται . . ὅθεν ἡ
κίνησις ἡ πρώτη ἐν ἑκάστῳ τῶν φύσει ὄντων” Arist.Metaph.1014b16; concrete, the
creation, 'Nature.’ Grice is casual in his use of ‘natural’ versus
‘non-natural’ in 1948 for the Oxford Philosophical Society. In later works,
there’s a reference to naturalism, which is more serious. Refs.: The keyword
should be ‘naturalism,’ but also Grice’s diatribes against ‘physicalism,’ and
of course the ‘natural’ and ‘non-natural,’ BANC.
lapis
philosophorum: alchemy:
a quasi-scientific practice and mystical art, mainly ancient and medieval, that
had two broad aims: to change baser metals into gold and to develop the elixir
of life, the means to immortality. Classical Western alchemy probably
originated in Egypt in the first three centuries A.D. with earlier Chin. and
later Islamic and variants and was
practiced in earnest in Europe by such figures as Paracelsus and Newton until
the eighteenth century. Western alchemy addressed concerns of practical
metallurgy, but its philosophical significance derived from an early Grecian
theory of the relations among the basic elements and from a
religious-allegorical understanding of the alchemical transmutation of ores
into gold, an understanding that treats this process as a spiritual ascent from
human toward divine perfection. The purification of crude ores worldly matter
into gold material perfection was thought to require a transmuting agent, the
philosopher’s stone, a mystical substance that, when mixed with alcohol and
swallowed, was believed to produce immortality spiritual perfection. The
alchemical search for the philosopher’s stone, though abortive, resulted in the
development of ultimately useful experimental tools e.g., the steam pump and
methods e.g., distillation.
piaget: philosopher who profoundly
influenced questions, theories, and methods in the study of cognitive
development. The philosophical interpretation and implications of his work,
however, remain controversial. Piaget regarded himself as engaged in genetic
epistemology, the study of what knowledge is through an empirical investigation
of how our epistemic relations to objects are improved. Piaget hypothesized
that our epistemic relations are constructed through the progressive
organization of increasingly complex behavioral interactions with physical
objects. The cognitive system of the adult is neither learned, in the
Skinnerian sense, nor genetically preprogrammed. Rather, it results from the
organization of specific interactions whose character is shaped both by the
features of the objects interacted with a process called accommodation and by
the current cognitive system of the child a process called assimilation. The
tendency toward equilibrium results in a change in the nature of the
interaction as well as in the cognitive system. Of particular importance for
the field of cognitive development were Piaget’s detailed descriptions and
categorizations of changes in the organization of the cognitive system from
birth through adolescence. That work focused on changes in the child’s
understanding of such things as space, time, cause, number, length, weight, and
morality. Among his major works are The Child’s Conception of Number 1, Biology
and Knowledge 7, Genetic Epistemology 0, and Psychology and Epistemology 0.
pico
della mirandola
-- philosopher who wrote a series of 900 theses which he hoped to dispute
publicly in Rome. Thirteen of these theses are criticized by a papal
commission. When Pico defends himself in his “Apologia,” the pope condemns all
900 theses. Pico flees to France, but is imprisoned. On his escape, he returns to
Florence and devotes himself to private study at the swimming-pool at his
villa. He hoped to write a Concord of Plato and Aristotle, but the only part he
was able to complete was “On Being and the One,” – “Blame it on the Toscana!”
-- in which he uses Aquinas and Christianity to reconcile Plato’s and
Aristotle’s views about God’s being and unity. Mirandola is often described as
a syncretist, but in fact he made it clear that the truth of Christianity has
priority over the prisca theologia or ancient wisdom found in the hermetic
corpus and the cabala. Though he was interested in magic and astrology,
Mirandola adopts a guarded attitude toward them in his “Heptaplus,” which
contains a mystical interpretation of Genesis; and in his Disputations Against
Astrology, he rejects them both. The treatise is largely technical, and the
question of human freedom is set aside as not directly relevant. This fact
casts some doubt on the popular thesis that Pico’s philosophy is a celebration
of man’s freedom and dignity. Great weight has been placed on Pico’s “On the
Dignity of Man.” This is a short oration intended as an introduction to the
disputation of his 900 theses – all condemned by the evil pope --, and the
title was suggested by his wife (“She actually suggested, “On the dignity of
woman,” but I found that otiose.””). Mirandola has been interpreted as saying
that man (or woman) is set apart from the rest of creation, and is completely
free to form his (or her) own nature. In fact, as The Heptaplus shows, Pico
sees man as a microcosm containing elements of the angelic, celestial, and
elemental worlds. Man (if not woman) is thus firmly within the hierarchy of
nature, and is a bond and link between the worlds. In the oration, the emphasis
on freedom is a moral one: man is free to choose between good and evil. Grice:
“This irritated Nietzsche so much that he wrote ‘beyond good and evil.’ Refs.:
H. P. Grice, “Goodwill and illwill – must we have both?” Refs.: Luigi Speranza, "Grice e Pico: the dignity of
man," per Il Club Anglo-Italiano, The Swimming-Pool Library, Villa Grice,
Liguria, Italia.
pico della mirandola, Gianfranco: Important
if unjustly neglected, murdered, Italian philosopher. Refs: Luigi Speranza,
"Grice e Pico," per Il Club Anglo-Italiano, The Swimming-Pool
Library, Villa Grice, Liguria, Italia -- Gianfranco Pico della Mirandola.
pigliucci: important Italian philosopher.
Refs.: Luigi Speranza, "Grice e
Pigliucci," per il Club Anglo-Italiano, The Swimming-Pool Library, Villa
Grice, Liguria, Italia
pilgrimage: Grice’s
pilgrimage. In his pilgrimage towards what he calls the city of Eternal Truth
he finds twelve perils – which he lists. The first is Extensionalism (as
opposed to Intensionalism – vide intentum -- consequentes
rem intellectam: intendere est
essentialiter ipsum esse intentio ...
quam a concepto sibi adequato: Odint 226; esse intentum est esse non reale: The second is
Nominalism (opposite Realism and Conceptualism – Universalism, Abstractionism).
It is funny that Grice was criticised for representing each of the perils!The
third is Positivism. Opposite to Negativism. Just kidding. Opposite to anything Sir Freddie Ayer was
opposite to!The fourth is Naturalism. Opposite Non-Naturalism. Just joking! But
that’s the hateful word brought by G. E. Moore, whom Grice liked (“Some like
Witters, but Moore’s MY man.”) The fifth is Mechanism. Opposite Libertarianism,
or Finalism, But I guess one likes Libertarianism.The sixth is Phenomenalism.
You cannot oppose it to Physicalism, beause that comes next. So this is G. A.
Paul (“Is there a problem about sense data?). And the opposite is anything this
Scots philosopher was against!The seventh is Reductionism. Opposite
Reductivism. Grice was proud to teach J. M. Rountree the distinction between a
benevolent reductionist and a malignant eliminationist reductionist. The eighth
is physicalism.Opposite metaphysicalism.
The ninth is materialism. Hyleism. Opposite Formalism. Or Immaterialism.
The tenth is Empiricism. Opposite Rationalism. The eleventh is
Scepticism.Opposite Dogmatism.and the twelfth is functionalism. Opposite Grice!
So now let’s order the twelve perils alphabetically. Empiricism.
Extensionalism. Functionalism. MaterialismMechanism. Naturalism. Nominalism.
Phenomenalism. Positivism. Physicalism. Reductionism. Scepticism. Now let us
see how they apply to the theory of the conversational implicaturum and
conversation as rational cooperation. Empiricism – Grice is an avowed
rationalist.Extensionalism – His main concern is that the predicate in the
proposition which is communicated is void, we yield the counterintuitive result
that an emissor who communicates that the S is V, where V is vacuous
communicates the same thing he would be communicating for any other vacuous
predicate V’Functionalism – There is a purely experiential qualia in some
emissor communicating that p that is not covered by the common-or-garden
variety of functionalism. E.g. “I love myself.” Materialism – rationalism means
dealing with a realm of noumena which goes beyond materialismMechanism –
rationalism entails end-setting unweighed finality and freedom. Naturalism – communication
involves optimality which is beyond naturalism Nominalism – a predicate is an
abstractum. Phenomenalism – there is realism which gives priority to the
material thing, not the sense datum. A sense datum of an apple does not nourish
us. Positivism – an emissor may communicate a value, which is not
positivistically reduced to something verifiable. Physicalism – there must be
multiple realization, and many things physicalists say sound ‘harsh’ to Grice’s
ears (“Smith’s brain being in state C doesn’t have adequate evidence”).
Reductionism – We are not eliminating anything. Scepticism – there are dogmas
which are derived from paradigm cases, even sophisticated ones.How to introduce
the twelve entriesEmpiricism – from Greek empereia – cf. etymology for English
‘experience.’Extensionalism -- extensumFunctionalism – functum.
Materialism -- Mechanism Naturalism
Nominalism Phenomenalism Positivism Physicalism Reductionism Scepticism. this section events are reviewed according to
principal scenes of action. Place names appear in the order in which major
incidents occur. City of Destruction. The
city stands as a symbol of the entire world as it is, with all of its sins,
corruptions, and sorrows. No one living there can have any hope of salvation.
Convinced that the city is about to be blasted by the wrath of God, Christian
flees and sets out alone on a pilgrimage which he hopes will lead him to Mount
Zion, to the Celestial City, where he can enjoy eternal life in the happy
company of God and the Heavenly Host. Slough
of Despond. A swamp, a bog, a quagmire, the first obstacle in
Christian's course. Pilgrims are apt to get mired down here by their doubts and
fears. After much difficulty and with some providential help, Christian finally
manages to flounder across the treacherous bog and is on his way again. Village of Morality. Near the village
Christian meets Mr. Worldly Wiseman, who, though not religiously inclined, is a
friendly and well-disposed person. He tells Christian that it would be foolish
of him to continue his pilgrimage, the end of which could only be hunger, pain,
and death. Christian should be a sensible fellow and settle down in the Village
of Morality. It would be a good place to raise a family, for living was cheap
there and they would have honest, well-behaved people as neighbors — people who
lived by the Ten Commandments. More than a little tempted by this, Christian
decides that he should at least have a look at Morality. But along the way he
is stopped by his friend Evangelist, who berates him sharply for having
listened to anything Mr. Worldly Wiseman might have to say. If Christian is
seriously interested in saving his soul, he would be well advised to get back
as quickly as possible on the path to the Wicket Gate which Evangelist had pointed
out to him before. Wicket Gate. Arriving
almost out of breath, Christian reads the sign on the gate: "Knock and it
shall be opened unto you." He knocks a number of times before arousing the
gatekeeper, a "grave person" named Good-will, who comes out to ask
what Christian wants. After the latter has explained his mission, he is let
through the gate, which opens on the Holy Way, a straight and narrow path
leading toward the Celestial City. Christian asks if he can now be relieved of
the heavy burden — a sack filled with his sins and woes — that he has been
carrying on his back for so long. Good-will replies that he cannot help him,
but that if all goes well, Christian will be freed of his burden in due course.
Interpreter's House. On
Good-will's advice, Christian makes his first stop at the large house of
Interpreter, a character symbolizing the Holy Spirit. Interpreter shows his
guest a number of "excellent things." These include a portrait of the
ideal pastor with the Bible in his hand and a crown of gold on his head; a
dusty parlor which is like the human heart before it is cleansed with the
Gospel; a sinner in an iron cage, an apostate doomed to suffer the torments of
Hell through all eternity; a wall with a fire burning against it. A figure (the
Devil himself) is busily throwing water on the fire to put it out. But he would
never succeed, Interpreter explains, because the fire represents the divine
spirit in the human heart and a figure on the far side of the wall keeps the
fire burning brightly by secretly pouring oil on it — "the oil of Christ's
Grace." The Cross. Beyond
Interpreter's House, Christian comes to the Cross, which stands on higher
ground beside the Holy Way. Below it, at the foot of the gentle slope, is an
open sepulcher. When Christian stops by the Cross, the burden on his back
suddenly slips from his shoulders, rolls down the slope, and falls into the
open sepulcher, to be seen no more. As Christian stands weeping with joy, three
Shining Ones (angels) appear. They tell him all his sins are now forgiven, give
him bright new raiment to replace his old ragged clothes, and hand him a
parchment, "a Roll with a seal upon it." For his edification and
instruction, Christian is to read the Roll as he goes along, and when he
reaches the Pearly Gates, he is to present it as his credentials a sort of
passport to Heaven, as it were. Difficulty
Hill. The Holy Way beyond the Cross is fenced in with a high wall on
either side. The walls have been erected to force all aspiring Pilgrims to
enter the Holy Way in the proper manner, through the Wicket Gate. As Christian
is passing along, two men — Formalist and Hypocrisy — climb over the wall and
drop down beside him. Christian finds fault with this and gives the
wall-jumpers a lecture on the dangers of trying shortcuts. They have been
successfully taking shortcuts all their lives, the intruders reply, and all
will go well this time. Not too pleased with his company, Christian proceeds
with Hypocrisy and Formalist to the foot of Difficulty Hill, where three paths
join and they must make a choice. One path goes straight ahead up the steep
slope of the hill; another goes around the base of the hill to the right; the
third, around the hill to the left. Christian argues that the right path is the
one leading straight ahead up Difficulty Hill. Not liking the prospect of much
exertion, Formalist and Hypocrisy decide to take the easier way on the level
paths going around the hill. Both get lost and perish. Halfway up Difficulty
Hill, so steep in places that he has to inch forward on hands and knees,
Christian comes to a pleasant arbor provided for the comfort of weary Pilgrims.
Sitting down to rest, Christian reaches into his blouse and takes out his
precious Roll. While reading it, he drops off to sleep, being awakened when he
hears a voice saying sternly: "Go to the ant, thou sluggard; consider her
ways, and be wise." Jumping up, Christian makes with all speed to the top
of the hill, where he meets two Pilgrims coming toward him — Timorous and
Mistrust. They have been up ahead, they say, and there are lions there. They
are giving up their pilgrimage and returning home, and unsuccessfully try to
persuade Christian to come with them. Their report about the lions disturbs
Christian, who reaches into his blouse to get his Roll so that he may read it
and be comforted. To his consternation, the Roll is not there. Carefully
searching along the way, Christian retraces his steps to the arbor, where, as
he recalls, he had been reading the Roll when he allowed himself to doze off in
"sinful sleep." Not finding his treasure immediately, he sits down
and weeps, considering himself utterly undone by his carelessness in losing
"his pass into the Celestial City." When in deepest despair, he
chances to see something lying half-covered in the grass. It is his precious
Roll, which he tucks away securely in his blouse. Having offered a prayer of
thanks "to God for directing his eye to the place where it lay,"
Christian wearily climbs back to the top of Difficulty Hill. From there he sees
a stately building and as it is getting on toward dark, hastens there. Palace Beautiful. A narrow path leads
off the Holy Way to the lodge in front of Palace Beautiful. Starting up the
path, Christian sees two lions, stops, and turns around as if to retreat. The
porter at the lodge, Watchful, who has been observing him, calls out that there
is nothing to be afraid of if one has faith. The lions are chained, one on
either side of the path, and anyone with faith can pass safely between them if
he keeps carefully to the middle of the path, which Christian does. Arriving at
the lodge, he asks if he can get lodging for the night. The porter, Watchful,
replies that he will find out from those in charge of Palace Beautiful. Soon,
four virgins come out to the lodge, all of them "grave and beautiful
damsels": Discretion, Prudence, Piety, and Charity. Satisfied with
Christian's answers to their questions, they invite him in, introduce him to
the rest of the family, serve him supper, and assign him to a beautiful bedroom
— Peace — for the night. Next morning, the virgins show him the
"rarities" of the place: First, the library, filled with ancient
documents dating back to the beginning of time; next, the armory, packed with
swords, shields, helmets, breastplates, and other things sufficient to equip
all servants of the Lord, even if they were as numerous as the stars in the
sky. Leading their guest to the roof of the palace, the virgins point to
mountains in the distance — the Delectable Mountains, which lie on the way to
the Celestial City. Before allowing Christian to depart, the virgins give him
arms and armor to protect himself during the next stretch of his journey, which
they warn will be dangerous. Valley of
Humiliation. Here Christian is attacked and almost overcome by a "foul
fiend" named Apollyon — a hideous monster with scales like a fish, wings
like a dragon, mouth like a lion, and feet like a bear; flames and smoke belch
out of a hole in his belly. Christian, after a painful struggle, wounds the
fiend with his sword and drives him off. Valley of the Shadow of Death. This is a wilderness, a land of
deserts and pits, inhabited only by yowling hobgoblins and other dreadful
creatures. The path here is very narrow, edged on one side by a deep,
water-filled ditch in which many have drowned; on the other side, by a
treacherous bog. Walking carefully, Christian goes on and soon finds himself
close to the open mouth of Hell, the Burning Pit, out of which comes a cloud of
noxious fumes, long fingers of fire, showers of sparks, and hideous noises.
With flames flickering all around and smoke almost choking him, Christian
manages to get through by use of "All-prayer." Nearing the end of the
valley, he hears a shout raised by someone up ahead: "Though I walk
through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I will fear none ill, for Thou art
with me." As only a Pilgrim could have raised that cry, Christian hastens
forward to see who it might be. To his surprise and delight he finds that it is
an old friend, Faithful, one of his neighbors in the City of Destruction. Vanity Fair. Happily journeying
together, exchanging stories about their adventures and misadventures, the two
Pilgrims come to the town of Vanity Fair, through which they must pass.
Interested only in commerce and money-making, the town holds a year-round fair
at which all kinds of things are bought and sold — "houses, lands, trades,
titles, . . . lusts, pleasures, . . . bodies, souls, silver, gold, pearls,
precious stones, and what not." Christian and Faithful infuriate the
merchandisers by turning up their noses at the wares offered them, saying that
they would buy nothing but the Truth. Their presence and their attitude cause a
hubbub in the town, which leads the authorities to jail them for disturbing the
peace. The prisoners conduct themselves so well that they win the sympathy of
many townspeople, producing more strife and commotion in the streets, and the
prisoners are held responsible for this, too, though they have done nothing. It
is decided to indict them on the charge of disrupting trade, creating
dissension, and treating with contempt the customs and laws laid down for the
town by its prince, old Beelzebub himself. Brought to trial first, Faithful is
convicted and sentenced to be executed in the manner prescribed by the presiding
judge, Lord Hate-good. The hapless Faithful is scourged, brutally beaten,
lanced with knives, stoned, and then burned to ashes at the stake. Thus, he
becomes another of the Christian martyrs assured of enjoying eternal bliss up
on high. Doubting Castle and Giant
Despair. In a manner only vaguely explained, Christian gets free and
goes on his way — but not alone, for he has been joined by Hopeful, a native of
Vanity Fair who is fleeing in search of better things. After a few minor
adventures, the two reach a sparkling stream, the River of the Water of Life,
which meanders through beautiful meadows bright with flowers. For a time the
Holy Way follows the river bank but then veers off into rougher ground which is
hard on the sore tired feet of the travelers. Wishing there were an easier way,
they plod along until they come to another meadow behind a high fence. Having
climbed the fence to have a look, Christian persuades Hopeful that they should
move over into By-path Meadow, where there is a soft grassy path paralleling
theirs. Moving along, they catch up with Vain-confidence, who says that he is
bound for the Celestial City and knows the way perfectly. Night comes on, but
he continues to push ahead briskly, with Christian and Hopeful following.
Suddenly, the latter hear a frightened cry and a loud thud. Vain-confidence has
been dashed to pieces by falling into a deep pit dug by the owner of the
meadow. Christian and Hopeful retreat, but as they can see nothing in the dark,
they decide to lie down in the meadow to pass the night. Next morning, they are
surprised and seized by the prince of By-path Meadow, a giant named Despair.
Charging them with malicious trespassing, he hauls them to his stronghold,
Doubting Castle, and throws them into a deep dark dungeon, where they lie for
days without food or drink. At length, Giant Despair appears, beats them almost
senseless, and advises them to take their own lives so that he will not have to
come back to finish them off himself. When all seems hopeless, Christian suddenly
brightens up, "as one half amazed," and exclaims: "What a fool
am I, thus to lie in a stinking dungeon when I may as well walk at liberty. I
have a key in my bosom called Promise which will (I am persuaded) open any lock
in Doubting Castle." Finding that the magic key works, the prisoners are
soon out in the open and running as fast as they can to get back onto the Holy
Way, where they erect a sign warning other Pilgrims against being tempted by
the apparent ease of traveling by way of By-path Meadow. Delectable Mountains. Christian and
Hopeful next come to the Delectable Mountains, where they find gardens,
orchards, vineyards, and fountains of water. Four shepherds — Experience,
Knowledge, Watchful, and Sincere — come to greet them, telling them that the
mountains are the Lord's, as are the flocks of sheep grazing there. Having been
escorted around the mountains and shown the sights there, the two Pilgrims on
the eve of their departure receive from the shepherds a paper instructing them
on what to do and what to avoid on the journey ahead. For one thing, they
should not lie down and sleep in the Enchanted Ground, for that would be fatal.
Country of Beulah. This is a
happy land where the sun shines day and night, flowers bloom continuously, and
the sweet and pleasant air is filled with bird-song. There is no lack of grain
and wine. Christian and Hopeful stop to rest and enjoy themselves here, pleased
that the Celestial City is now within sight, which leads them to assume that
the way there is now clear. Dark River.
Proceeding, they are amazed when they come to the Dark River, a wide,
swift-flowing stream. They look around for a bridge or boat on which to cross.
A Shining One appears and tells them that they must make their way across as
best they can, that fording the river is a test of faith, that those with faith
have nothing to fear. Wading into the river, Hopeful finds firm footing, but
Christian does not He is soon floundering in water over his head, fearing that
he will be drowned, that he will never see "the land that flows with milk
and honey." Hopeful helps Christian by holding his head above water, and
the two finally achieve the crossing. Celestial
City. On the far side of the river, two Shining Ones are waiting for the
Pilgrims and take them by the arm to assist them in climbing the steep slope to
the Celestial City, which stands on a "mighty hill . . . higher than the
clouds." Coming to the gate of the city, built all of precious stones,
Christian and Hopeful present their credentials, which are taken to the King
(God). He orders the gate to be opened, and the two weary but elated Pilgrims
go in, to find that the streets are paved with gold and that along them walk
many men with crowns on their heads and golden harps in their hands.
platonic --: Grice: “At Oxford you HAVE to
be platonic! Aristotelian is jaded!” -- H. P. Grice as a Platonian commentator
– vide his “Metaphysics, Philosophical Eschatology, and Plato’s Republic” --
commentaries on Plato, a term designating the works in the tradition of
commentary hypomnema on Plato that may go back to the Old Academy Crantor is
attested by Proclus to have been the first to have “commented” on the Timaeus.
More probably, the tradition arises in the first century B.C. in Alexandria,
where we find Eudorus commenting, again, on the Timaeus, but possibly also if
the scholars who attribute to him the Anonymous Theaetetus Commentary are
correct on the Theaetetus. It seems also as if the Stoic Posidonius composed a
commentary of some sort on the Timaeus. The commentary form such as we can
observe in the biblical commentaries of Philo of Alexandria owes much to the
Stoic tradition of commentary on Homer, as practiced by the second-century B.C.
School of Pergamum. It was normal to select usually consecutive portions of
text lemmata for general, and then detailed, comment, raising and answering
“problems” aporiai, refuting one’s predecessors, and dealing with points of
both doctrine and philology. By the second century A.D. the tradition of
Platonic commentary was firmly established. We have evidence of commentaries by
the Middle Platonists Gaius, Albinus, Atticus, Numenius, and Cronius, mainly on
the Timaeus, but also on at least parts of the Republic, as well as a work by
Atticus’s pupil Herpocration of Argos, in twentyfour books, on Plato’s work as
a whole. These works are all lost, but in the surviving works of Plutarch we
find exegesis of parts of Plato’s works, such as the creation of the soul in
the Timaeus 35a36d. The Latin commentary of Calcidius fourth century A.D. is
also basically Middle Platonic. In the Neoplatonic period after Plotinus, who
did not indulge in formal commentary, though many of his essays are in fact
informal commentaries, we have evidence of much more comprehensive exegetic
activity. Porphyry initiated the tradition with commentaries on the Phaedo,
commentaries on Plato commentaries on Plato 160 160 Cratylus, Sophist, Philebus, Parmenides
of which the surviving anonymous fragment of commentary is probably a part, and
the Timaeus. He also commented on the myth of Er in the Republic. It seems to
have been Porphyry who is responsible for introducing the allegorical
interpretation of the introductory portions of the dialogues, though it was
only his follower Iamblichus who also commented on all the above dialogues, as
well as the Alcibiades and the Phaedrus who introduced the principle that each
dialogue should have only one central theme, or skopos. The tradition was
carried on in the Athenian School by Syrianus and his pupils Hermeias on the
Phaedrus surviving and Proclus
Alcibiades, Cratylus, Timaeus, Parmenides
all surviving, at least in part, and continued in later times by
Damascius Phaedo, Philebus, Parmenides and Olympiodorus Alcibiades, Phaedo,
Gorgias also surviving, though sometimes
only in the form of pupils’ notes. These commentaries are not now to be valued
primarily as expositions of Plato’s thought though they do contain useful
insights, and much valuable information; they are best regarded as original
philosophical treatises presented in the mode of commentary, as is so much of
later Grecian philosophy, where it is not originality but rather faithfulness
to an inspired master and a great tradition that is being striven for. Platonism Platonism -- Damascius c.462c.550,
Grecian Neoplatonist philosopher, last head of the Athenian Academy before its
closure by Justinian in A.D. 529. Born probably in Damascus, he studied first
in Alexandria, and then moved to Athens shortly before Proclus’s death in 485.
He returned to Alexandria, where he attended the lectures of Ammonius, but came
back again to Athens in around 515, to assume the headship of the Academy.
After the closure, he retired briefly with some other philosophers, including
Simplicius, to Persia, but left after about a year, probably for Syria, where
he died. He composed many works, including a life of his master Isidorus, which
survives in truncated form; commentaries on Aristotle’s Categories, On the
Heavens, and Meteorologics I all lost; commentaries on Plato’s Alcibiades,
Phaedo, Philebus, and Parmenides, which survive; and a surviving treatise On
First Principles. His philosophical system is a further elaboration of the
scholastic Neoplatonism of Proclus, exhibiting a great proliferation of
metaphysical entities. Platonism --
Eudoxus, Grecian astronomer and mathematician, a student of Plato. He created a
test of the equality of two ratios, invented the method of exhaustion for
calculating areas and volumes within curved boundaries, and introduced an
astronomical system consisting of homocentric celestial spheres. This system
views the visible universe as a set of twenty-seven spheres contained one
inside the other and each concentric to the earth. Every celestial body is
located on the equator of an ideal eudaimonia Eudoxus of Cnidus 291 291 sphere that revolves with uniform speed
on its axis. The poles are embedded in the surface of another sphere, which
also revolves uniformly around an axis inclined at a constant angle to that of
the first sphere. In this way enough spheres are introduced to capture the
apparent motions of all heavenly bodies. Aristotle adopted the system of
homocentric spheres and provided a physical interpretation for it in his
cosmology. R.E.B. Euler diagram, a logic diagram invented by the mathematician
Euler that represents standard form statements in syllogistic logic by two
circles and a syllogism by three circles. In modern adaptations of Euler
diagrams, distributed terms are represented by complete circles and
undistributed terms by partial circles circle segments or circles made with
dotted lines: Euler diagrams are more perspicuous ways of showing validity and
invalidity of syllogisms than Venn diagrams, but less useful as a mechanical
test of validity since there may be several choices of ways to represent a
syllogism in Euler diagrams, only one of which will show that the syllogism is
invalid. Plato: preeminent Grecian
philosopher whose chief contribution consists in his conception of the
observable world as an imperfect image of a realm of unobservable and
unchanging “Forms,” and his conception of the best life as one centered on the
love of these divine objects. Life and influences. Born in Athens to a
politically powerful and aristocratic family, Plato came under the influence of
Socrates during his youth and set aside his ambitions for a political career after
Socrates was executed for impiety. His travels in southern Italy and Sicily
brought him into closer contact with the followers of Pythagoras, whose
research in mathematics played an important role in his intellectual
development. He was also acquainted with Cratylus, a follower of Heraclitus,
and was influenced by their doctrine that the world is in constant flux. He
wrote in opposition to the relativism of Protagoras and the purely
materialistic mode of explanation adopted by Democritus. At the urging of a
devoted follower, Dion, he became involved in the politics of Syracuse, the
wealthiest city of the Grecian world, but his efforts to mold the ideas of its
tyrant, Dionysius II, were unmitigated failures. These painful events are
described in Plato’s Letters Epistles, the longest and most important of which
is the Seventh Letter, and although the authenticity of the Letters is a matter
of controversy, there is little doubt that the author was well acquainted with
Plato’s life. After returning from his first visit to Sicily in 387, Plato
established the Academy, a fraternal association devoted to research and
teaching, and named after the sacred site on the outskirts of Athens where it
was located. As a center for political training, it rivaled the school of
Isocrates, which concentrated entirely on rhetoric. The bestknown student of
the Academy was Aristotle, who joined at the age of seventeen when Plato was
sixty and remained for twenty years. Chronology of the works. Plato’s works,
many of which take the form of dialogues between Socrates and several other
speakers, were composed over a period of about fifty years, and this has led
scholars to seek some pattern of philosophical development in them.
Increasingly sophisticated stylometric tests have been devised to calculate the
linguistic similarities among the dialogues. Ancient sources indicate that the
Laws was Plato’s last work, and there is now consensus that many affinities
exist between the style of this work and several others, which can therefore also
be safely regarded as late works; these include the Sophist, Statesman, and
Philebus perhaps written in that order. Stylometric tests also support a rough
division of Plato’s other works into early and middle periods. For example, the
Apology, Charmides, Crito, Euthyphro, Hippias Minor, Ion, Laches, and
Protagoras listed alphabetically are widely thought to be early; while the
Phaedo, Symposium, Republic, and Phaedrus perhaps written in that order are
agreed to belong to his middle period. But in some cases it is difficult or
impossible to tell which of two works belonging to the same general period
preceded the other; this is especially true of the early dialogues. The most
controversial chronological question concerns the Timaeus: stylometric tests often
place it with the later dialogues, though some scholars think that its
philosophical doctrines are discarded in the later dialogues, and they
therefore assign it to Plato’s middle period. The underlying issue is whether
he abandoned some of the main doctrines of this middle period. Early and middle
dialogues. The early dialogues typically portray an encounter between Socrates
and an interlocutor who complacently assumes that he understands a common
evaluative concept like courage, piety, or beauty. For example, Euthyphro, in
the dialogue that bears his name, denies that there is any impiety in
prosecuting his father, but repeated questioning by Socrates shows that he
cannot say what single thing all pious acts have in common by virtue of which
they are rightly called pious. Socrates professes to have no answer to these
“What is X?” questions, and this fits well with the claim he makes in the
Apology that his peculiarly human form of wisdom consists in realizing how
little he knows. In these early dialogues, Socrates seeks but fails to find a
philosophically defensible theory that would ground our use of normative terms.
The Meno is similar to these early dialogues
it asks what virtue is, and fails to find an answer but it goes beyond them and marks a transition
in Plato’s thinking. It raises for the first time a question about methodology:
if one does not have knowledge, how is it possible to acquire it simply by
raising the questions Socrates poses in the early dialogues? To show that it is
possible, Plato demonstrates that even a slave ignorant of geometry can begin
to learn the subject through questioning. The dialogue then proposes an
explanation of our ability to learn in this way: the soul acquired knowledge
before it entered the body, and when we learn we are really recollecting what
we once knew and forgot. This bold speculation about the soul and our ability
to learn contrasts with the noncommittal position Socrates takes in the
Apology, where he is undecided whether the dead lose all consciousness or
continue their activities in Hades. The confidence in immortality evident in
the Meno is bolstered by arguments given in the Phaedo, Republic, and Phaedrus.
In these dialogues, Plato uses metaphysical considerations about the nature of
the soul and its ability to learn to support a conception of what the good
human life is. Whereas the Socrates of the early dialogues focuses almost
exclusively on ethical questions and is pessimistic about the extent to which
we can answer them, Plato, beginning with the Meno and continuing throughout
the rest of his career, confidently asserts that we can answer Socratic
questions if we pursue ethical and metaphysical inquiries together. The Forms.
The Phaedo is the first dialogue in which Plato decisively posits the existence
of the abstract objects that he often called “Forms” or “Ideas.” The latter
term should be used with caution, since these objects are not creations of a
mind, but exist independently of thought; the singular Grecian terms Plato
often uses to name these abstract objects are eidos and idea. These Forms are
eternal, changeless, and incorporeal; since they are imperceptible, we can come
to have knowledge of them only through thought. Plato insists that it would be
an error to identify two equal sticks with what Equality itself is, or
beautiful bodies with what Beauty itself is; after all, he says, we might
mistakenly take two equal sticks to be unequal, but we would never suffer from
the delusion that Equality itself is unequal. The unchanging and incorporeal
Form is the sort of object that is presupposed by Socratic inquiry; what every
pious act has in common with every other is that it bears a certain
relationship called “participation” to one and the same thing, the Form of Piety.
In this sense, what makes a pious act pious and a pair of equal sticks equal
are the Forms Piety and Equality. When we call sticks equal or acts pious, we
are implicitly appealing to a standard of equality or piety, just as someone
appeals to a standard when she says that a painted portrait of someone is a
man. Of course, the pigment on the canvas is not a man; rather, it is properly
called a man because it bears a certain relationship to a very different sort
of object. In precisely this way, Plato claims that the Forms are what many of
our words refer to, even though they are radically different sorts of objects
from the ones revealed to the senses. For Plato the Forms are not merely an
unusual item to be added to our list of existing objects. Rather, they are a
source of moral and religious inspiration, and their discovery is therefore a
decisive turning point in one’s life. This process is described by a fictional
priestess named Diotima in the Symposium, a dialogue containing a series of
speeches in praise of love and concluding with a remarkable description of the
passionate response Socrates inspired in Alcibiades, his most notorious
admirer. According to Diotima’s account, those who are in love are searching
for something they do not yet understand; whether they realize it or not, they
seek the eternal possession of the good, and they can obtain it only through
productive activity of some sort. Physical love perpetuates the species and
achieves a lower form of immortality, but a more beautiful kind of offspring is
produced by those who govern cities and shape the moral characteristics of
future generations. Best of all is the kind of love that eventually attaches
itself to the Form of Beauty, since this is the most beautiful of all objects
and provides the greatest happiness to the lover. One develops a love for this
Form by ascending through various stages of emotional attachment and
understanding. Beginning with an attraction to the beauty of one person’s body,
one gradually develops an appreciation for the beauty present in all other
beautiful bodies; then one’s recognition of the beauty in people’s souls takes
on increasing strength, and leads to a deeper attachment to the beauty of
customs, laws, and systems of knowledge; and this process of emotional growth
and deepening insight eventually culminates in the discovery of the eternal and
changeless beauty of Beauty itself. Plato’s theory of erotic passion does not
endorse “Platonic love,” if that phrase designates a purely spiritual
relationship completely devoid of physical attraction or expression. What he
insists on is that desires for physical contact be restrained so that they do
not subvert the greater good that can be accomplished in human relationships.
His sexual orientation like that of many of his Athenian contemporaries is
clearly homosexual, and he values the moral growth that can occur when one man
is physically attracted to another, but in Book I of the Laws he condemns
genital activity when it is homosexual, on the ground that such activity should
serve a purely procreative purpose. Plato’s thoughts about love are further
developed in the Phaedrus. The lover’s longing for and physical attraction to
another make him disregard the norms of commonplace and dispassionate human
relationships: love of the right sort is therefore one of four kinds of divine
madness. This fourfold classificatory scheme is then used as a model of proper
methodology. Starting with the Phaedrus, classification what Plato calls the “collection and division
of kinds” becomes the principal method
to be used by philosophers, and this approach is most fully employed in such
late works as the Sophist, Statesman, and Philebus. Presumably it contributed
to Aristotle’s interest in categories and biological classification. The
Republic. The moral and metaphysical theory centered on the Forms is most fully
developed in the Republic, a dialogue that tries to determine whether it is in
one’s own best interests to be a just person. It is commonly assumed that
injustice pays if one can get away with it, and that just behavior merely
serves the interests of others. Plato attempts to show that on the contrary
justice, properly understood, is so great a good that it is worth any
sacrifice. To support this astonishing thesis, he portrays an ideal political community:
there we will see justice writ large, and so we will be better able to find
justice in the individual soul. An ideal city, he argues, must make radical
innovations. It should be ruled by specially trained philosophers, since their
understanding of the Form of the Good will give them greater insight into
everyday affairs. Their education is compared to that of a prisoner who, having
once gazed upon nothing but shadows in the artificial light of a cave, is
released from bondage, leaves the cave, eventually learns to see the sun, and
is thereby equipped to return to the cave and see the images there for what
they are. Everything in the rulers’ lives is designed to promote their
allegiance to the community: they are forbidden private possessions, their sexual
lives are regulated by eugenic considerations, and they are not to know who
their children are. Positions of political power are open to women, since the
physical differences between them and men do not in all cases deprive them of
the intellectual or moral capacities needed for political office. The works of
poets are to be carefully regulated, for the false moral notions of the
traditional poets have had a powerful and deleterious impact on the general
public. Philosophical reflection is to replace popular poetry as the force that
guides moral education. What makes this city ideally just, according to Plato,
is the dedication of each of its components to one task for which it is
naturally suited and specially trained. The rulers are ideally equipped to
rule; the soldiers are best able to enforce their commands; and the economic
class, composed of farmers, craftsmen, builders, and so on, are content to do
their work and to leave the tasks of making and enforcing the laws to others.
Accordingly what makes the soul of a human being just is the same principle:
each of its components must properly perform its own task. The part of us that
is capable of understanding and reasoning is the part that must rule; the
assertive part that makes us capable of anger and competitive spirit must give
our understanding the force it needs; and our appetites for food and sex must
be trained so that they seek only those objects that reason approves. It is not
enough to educate someone’s reason, for unless the emotions and appetites are
properly trained they will overpower it. Just individuals are those who have
fully integrated these elements of the soul. They do not unthinkingly follow a
list of rules; rather, their just treatment of others flows from their own
balanced psychological condition. And the paradigm of a just person is a
philosopher, for reason rules when it becomes passionately attached to the most
intelligible objects there are: the Forms. It emerges that justice pays because
attachment to these supremely valuable objects is part of what true justice of
the soul is. The worth of our lives depends on the worth of the objects to
which we devote ourselves. Those who think that injustice pays assume that
wealth, domination, or the pleasures of physical appetite are supremely
valuable; their mistake lies in their limited conception of what sorts of
objects are worth loving. Late dialogues. The Republic does not contain Plato’s
last thoughts on moral or metaphysical matters. For example, although he
continues to hold in his final work, the Laws, that the family and private
wealth should ideally be abolished, he describes in great detail a second-best
community that retains these and many other institutions of ordinary political
life. The sovereignty of law in such a state is stressed continually; political
offices are to be filled by elections and lots, and magistrates are subject to
careful scrutiny and prosecution. Power is divided among several councils and
offices, and philosophical training is not a prerequisite for political
participation. This second-best state is still worlds apart from a modern
liberal democracy poetic works and many
features of private life are carefully regulated, and atheism is punished with
death but it is remarkable that Plato,
after having made no concessions to popular participation in the Republic,
devoted so much energy to finding a proper place for it in his final work.
Plato’s thoughts about metaphysics also continued to evolve, and perhaps the
most serious problem in interpreting his work as a whole is the problem of
grasping the direction of these further developments. One notorious obstacle to
understanding his later metaphysics is presented by the Parmenides, for here we
find an unanswered series of criticisms of the theory of Forms. For example, it
is said that if there is reason to posit one Form of Largeness to select an
arbitrary example then there is an equally good reason to posit an unlimited
number of Forms of this type. The “first” Form of Largeness must exist because
according to Plato whenever a number of things are large, there is a Form of
Largeness that makes them large; but now, the argument continues, if we
consider this Form together with the other large things, we should recognize
still another Form, which makes the large things and Largeness itself large.
The argument can be pursued indefinitely, but it seems absurd that there should
be an unlimited number of Forms of this one type. In antiquity the argument was
named the Third Man, because it claims that in addition to a second type of
object called “man” the Form of Man there is even a third. What is Plato’s
response to this and other objections to his theory? He says in the Parmenides
that we must continue to affirm the existence of such objects, for language and
thought require them; but instead of responding directly to the criticisms, he
embarks on a prolonged examination of the concept of unity, reaching apparently
conflicting conclusions about it. Whether these contradictions are merely
apparent and whether this treatment of unity contains a response to the earlier
critique of the Forms are difficult matters of interpretation. But in any case
it is clear that Plato continues to uphold the existence of unchanging
realities; the real difficulty is whether and how he modifies his earlier views
about them. In the Timaeus, there seem to be no modifications at all a fact that has led some scholars to believe,
in spite of some stylometric evidence to the contrary, that this work was
written before Plato composed the critique of the Forms in the Parmenides. This
dialogue presents an account of how a divine but not omnipotent craftsman
transformed the disorderly materials of the universe into a harmonious cosmos
by looking to the unchanging Forms as paradigms and creating, to the best of
his limited abilities, constantly fluctuating images of those paradigms. The
created cosmos is viewed as a single living organism governed by its own
divinely intelligent soul; time itself came into existence with the cosmos,
being an image of the timeless nature of the Forms; space, however, is not
created by the divine craftsman but is the characterless receptacle in which
all change takes place. The basic ingredients of the universe are not earth,
air, fire, and water, as some thinkers held; rather, these elements are
composed of planes, which are in turn made out of elementary triangular shapes.
The Timaeus is an attempt to show that although many other types of objects
besides the Forms must be invoked in order to understand the orderly nature of
the changing universe souls, triangles,
space the best scientific explanations
will portray the physical world as a purposeful and very good approximation to
a perfect pattern inherent in these unchanging and eternal objects. But Forms
do not play as important a role in the Philebus, a late dialogue that contains
Plato’s fullest answer to the question, What is the good? He argues that
neither pleasure not intelligence can by itself be identified with the good,
since no one would be satisfied with a life that contained just one of these
but totally lacked the other. Instead, goodness is identified with proportion,
beauty, and truth; and intelligence is ranked a superior good to pleasure
because of its greater kinship to these three. Here, as in the middle
dialogues, Plato insists that a proper understanding of goodness requires a
metaphysical grounding. To evaluate the role of pleasure in human life, we need
a methodology that applies to all other areas of understanding. More
specifically, we must recognize that everything can be placed in one of four
categories: the limited, the unlimited, the mixture of these two, and the
intelligent creation of this mixture. Where Forms are to be located in this
scheme is unclear. Although metaphysics is invoked to answer practical
questions, as in the Republic, it is not precisely the same metaphysics as
before. Though we naturally think of Plato primarily as a writer of
philosophical works, he regards the written word as inferior to spoken
interchange as an instrument for learning and teaching. The drawbacks inherent
in written composition are most fully set forth in the Phaedrus. There is no
doubt that in the Academy he participated fully in philosophical debate, and on
at least one occasion he lectured to a general audience. We are told by
Aristoxenus, a pupil of Aristotle, that many in Plato’s audience were baffled
and disappointed by a lecture in which he maintained that Good is one. We can
safely assume that in conversation Plato put forward important philosophical
ideas that nonetheless did not find their way into his writings. Aristotle
refers in Physics IV.2 to one of Plato’s doctrines as unwritten, and the
enigmatic positions he ascribes to Plato in Metaphysics I.6 that the Forms are to be explained in terms
of number, which are in turn generated from the One and the dyad of great and
small seem to have been expounded solely
in discussion. Some scholars have put great weight on the statement in the
Seventh Letter that the most fundamental philosophical matters must remain
unwritten, and, using later testimony about Plato’s unwritten doctrines, they
read the dialogues as signs of a more profound but hidden truth. The
authenticity of the Seventh Letter is a disputed question, however. In any
case, since Aristotle himself treats the middle and late dialogues as
undissembling accounts of Plato’s philosophy, we are on firm ground in adopting
the same approach. Cf. Plato and Platonism by Pater, an early philosophical
reading by Grice. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Commentary on Plato’s Republic,” H. P.
Grice, “Semantics as footnotes to Cratylus.” H. P. Grice, “Plato and Cassirer,
Aristotle and I.” Luigi Speranza, “The Aristotle-Plato polemic at Oxford and
how Grice suffered iit.”
playgroup: Grice: “Strictly,
a playgroup is institutional – I wouldn’t say that Tom and Jerry form a
playgroup if they played chess together only once!” -- The motivation for the
three playgroups were different. Austin’s first playgroup was for fun. Grice
never attended. Austin’s new playgroup, or ‘second’ playgroup, if you must, was
a sobriquet Grice gave because it was ANYTHING BUT. Grice’s playgroup upon Austin’s
death was for fun, like the ‘first’ playgroup. Since Grice participated in the
second and third, he expanded. The second playgroup was for ‘philosophical
hacks’ who needed ‘para-philosophy.’ The third playgroup was for fun fun. While
Austin belonged to the first and the second playgroups, there were notorious
differences. In the first playgroup, he was not the master, and his resentment
towards Ayer can be seen in “Sense and Sensibilia.” The second playgroup had
Austin as the master. It is said that the playgroup survived Austin’s demise
with Grice’s leadership – But Grice’s playgroup was still a different thing –
some complained about the disorderly and rambling nature – Austin had kept a
very tidy organisation and power structure. Since Grice does NOT mention his
own playgroup, it is best to restrict playgroup as an ironic sobriquet by Grice
to anything but a playgroup, conducted after the war by Austin, by invitation
only, to full-time university lecturers in philosophy. Austin would hold a
central position, and Austin’s motivation was to ‘reach’ agreement. Usually,
when agreement was not reached, Austin could be pretty impolite. Grice found
himself IN THE PLAYGROUP. He obviously preferred a friendlier atmosphere, as
his own group later testified. But he was also involved in philosophical
activity OTHER than the play group. Notably his joint endeavours with Strawson,
Warnock, Pears, and Thomson. For some reason he chose each for a specific area:
Warnock for the philosophy of perception (Grice’s implicaturum is that he would
not explore meta-ethics with Warnock – he wouldn’t feel like, nor Warnock
would). Philosophy of action of all things, with J. F. Thomson. Philosophical
psychology with D. F. Pears – so this brings Pears’s observations on intending,
deciding, predicting, to the fore. And ontology with P. F. Strawson. Certainlty
he would not involve with Strawson on endless disagreements about the alleged
divergence or lack thereof between truth-functional devices and their
vernacular counterparts! Grice also mentions collaboration with Austin in
teaching – “an altogether flintier experience,” as Warnock knows and “Grice can
testify.” – There was joint seminars with A. M. Quinton, and a few others. One
may add the tutorials. Some of his tutees left Griceian traces: A. G. N. Flew,
David Bostock, J. L. Ackrill, T. C. Potts. The term was meant ironically. The playgroup
activities smack of military or civil service! while this can be safely called Grice’s
playgroup, it was founded by Austin at All Souls, where it had only seven
members. After the war, Grice joined in. The full list is found elsewhere. With
Austin’s death, Grice felt the responsibility to continue with it, and plus, he
enjoyed it! In alphabetical order. It is this group that made history. J. L. Austin, A. G. N. Flew, P. L. Gardiner,
H. P. Grice, S. N. Hampshire, R. M. Hare, H. L. A. Hart, P. H. Nowell-Smith, G. A. Paul, D. F. Pears,
P. F. Strawson, J. F. Thomson, J. O. Urmson, G. J. Warnock, A. D. Woozley.
Grice distinguishes it very well from Ryle’s group, and the group of
neo-Wittgensteinians. And those three groups were those only involved with
‘ordinary language.’
Plotino: Greco-Roman Neoplatonist
philosopher. Born in Egypt, though doubtless of Grecian ancestry, and thus
“more of a Roman than a ‘gypsy’”– Grice – Plotinus studied Platonic philosophy
in Alexandria with Ammonius Saccas 23243; then, after a brief adventure on the
staff of the Emperor Gordian III on an unsuccessful expedition against the
Persians, he came to Rome in 244 and continued teaching philosophy there until
his death. He enjoyed the support of many prominent people, including even the
Emperor Gallienus and his wife. His chief pupils were Amelius and Porphyry, the
latter of whom collected and edited his philosophical essays, the Enneads so
called because arranged by Porphyry in six groups of nine. The first three
groups concern the physical world and our relation to it, the fourth concerns
Soul, the fifth Intelligence, and the sixth the One. Porphyry’s arrangement is
generally followed today, though a chronological sequence of tractates, which
he also provides in his introductory Life of Plotinus, is perhaps preferable.
The most important treatises are I.1; I.2; I.6; II.4; II.8; III.23; III.6; III.7;
IV.34; V.1; V.3; VI.45; VI.7; VI.8; VI.9; and the group III.8, V.8, V.5, and
II.9 a single treatise, split up by Porphyry, that is a wide-ranging account of
Plotinus’s philosophical position, culminating in an attack on gnosticism.
Plotinus saw himself as a faithful exponent of Plato see especially Enneads
V.1, but he is far more than that. Platonism had developed considerably in the
five centuries that separate Plato from Plotinus, taking on much from both
Aristotelianism and Stoicism, and Plotinus is the heir to this process. He also
adds much himself. Grice was fascinated
by Plotinus’s use of ‘hyper,’ or supra. If God is hyper-good, that does mean
that he is not good? For Grice, Plotinus means ‘hyper’ implicaturally. So, if
God is hypergood, this does not yield
the negation that God is good. Only that if Plotinus KNOWS that God is
hyper-good he is right in thus saying, but he would never reprimand his
co-conversationalists were he to say that God is good.
pluralism: -- versus singularism, dualigm,
bi-dualism, and monism – the one and the many -- a philosophical perspective on the world that
emphasizes diversity rather than homogeneity, multiplicity rather than unity,
difference rather than sameness. The philosophical consequences of pluralism
were addressed by Grecian antiquity in its preoccupation with the problem of
the one and the many. The proponents of pluralism, represented principally by
Empedocles, Anaxagoras, and the Atomists Leucippus and Democritus, maintained
that reality was made up of a multiplicity of entities. Adherence to this
doctrine set them in opposition to the monism of the Eleatic School Parmenides,
which taught that reality was an impermeable unity and an unbroken solidarity.
It was thus that pluralism came to be defined as a philosophical alternative to
monism. In the development of Occidental thought, pluralism came to be
contrasted not only with monism but also with dualism, the philosophical
doctrine that there are two, and only two, kinds of existents. Descartes, with
his doctrine of two distinct substances
extended non-thinking substance versus non-extended thinking
substance is commonly regarded as having
provided the clearest example of philosophical dualism. Pluralism thus needs to
be understood as marking out philosophical alternatives to both monism and
dualism. Pluralism as a metaphysical doctrine requires that we distinguish
substantival from attributive pluralism. Substantival pluralism views the world
as containing a multiplicity of substances that remain irreducible to each
other. Attributive pluralism finds the multiplicity of kinds not among the
furniture of substances that make up the world but rather among a diversity of
attributes and distinguishing properties. However, pluralism came to be defined
not only as a metaphysical doctrine but also as a regulative principle of
explanation that calls upon differing explanatory principles and conceptual
schemes to account for the manifold events of nature and the varieties of human
experience. Recent philosophical thought has witnessed a resurgence of interest
in pluralism. This was evident in the development of pragmatism, where pluralism received piquant
expression in James’s A Pluralistic Universe 9. More recently pluralism was
given a voice in the thought of the later Vitters, with its heavy accent on the
plurality of language games displayed in our ordinary discourse. Also, in the
current developments of philosophical postmodernism Jean-François Lyotard, one
finds an explicit pluralistic orientation. Here the emphasis falls on the
multiplicity of signifiers, phrase regimens, genres of discourse, and
narrational strategies. The alleged unities and totalities of thought,
discourse, and action are subverted in the interests of reclaiming the
diversified and heterogeneous world of human experience. Pluralism in
contemporary thought initiates a move into a postmetaphysical age. It is less
concerned with traditional metaphysical and epistemological issues, seeking
answers to questions about the nature and kinds of substances and attributes;
and it is more attuned to the diversity of social practices and the multiple
roles of language, discourse, and narrative in the panoply of human
affairs.
singular-dual-bidual-plural quartet, the: pluralitive
logic, also called pleonetetic logic, the logic of ‘many’, ‘most’, ‘few’, and
similar terms including ‘four out of five’, ‘over 45 percent’ and so on.
Consider 1 ‘Almost all F are G’ 2 ‘Almost all F are not G’ 3 ‘Most F are G’ 4
‘Most F are not G’ 5 ‘Many F are G’ 6 ‘Many F are not G’ 1 i.e., ‘Few F are not
G’ and 6 are contradictory, as are 2 and 5 and 3 and 4. 1 and 2 cannot be true
together i.e., they are contraries, nor can 3 and 4, while 5 and 6 cannot be
false together i.e., they are subcontraries. Moreover, 1 entails 3 which entails
5, and 2 entails 4 which entails 6. Thus 16 form a generalized “square of
opposition” fitting inside the standard one. Sometimes 3 is said to be true if
more than half the F’s are G, but this makes ‘most’ unnecessarily precise, for
‘most’ does not literally mean ‘more than half’. Although many pluralitive
terms are vague, their interrelations are logically precise. Again, one might
define ‘many’ as ‘There are at least n’, for some fixed n, at least relative to
context. But this not only erodes the vagueness, it also fails to work for
arbitrarily large and infinite domains. ‘Few’, ‘most’, and ‘many’ are binary
quantifiers, a type of generalized quantifier. A unary quantifier, such as the
standard quantifiers ‘some’ and ‘all’, connotes a second-level property, e.g.,
‘Something is F’ means ‘F has an instance’, and ‘All F’s are G’ means ‘F and
not G has no instance’. A generalized quantifier connotes a second-level
relation. ‘Most F’s are G’ connotes a binary relation between F and G, one that
cannot be reduced to any property of a truth-functional compound of F and G. In
fact, none of the standard pluralitive terms can be defined in first-order
logic. Grice lists (x) and (Ex) as “all” and “the,” and of course (Ex), “some
(at least one).” So his approach welcomes the pluralitive logic – o
pleonetetic. There may be a scale, as Urmson calls it, involving ‘few’ and
‘most.’ ‘Many’ may bring many a trick. Quine deals with numerical quantifiers,
in “The logical form of ‘The apostles were twelve.” – In Grice, this is a clear
case of what he calls the principle of conversational fortitude: in a scale
(alla Urmson) involving a and b, the conversationalist’s preference for one
item in the ordered pair yields that the utterer implicates the negation of the
other item. These implicatura are defeasible. Refs.: Luigi Speranza, “Grice and
Altham on Geach’s pleoretetics, with and without implicatura.”
Causatum: plurality of causes, as used by Mill,
more than one cause of a single effect; i.e., tokens of different event types
causing different tokens of the same event type. Plurality of causes is
distinct from overdetermination of an event by more than one actual or
potential token cause. For example, an animal’s death has a plurality of
causes: it may die of starvation, of bleeding, of a blow to the head, and so
on. Mill thought these cases were important because he saw that the existence
of a plurality of causes creates problems for his four methods for determining
causes. Mill’s method of agreement is specifically vulnerable to the problem:
the method fails to reveal the cause of an event when the event has more than
one type of cause, because the method presumes that causes are necessary for
their effects. Actually, plurality of causes is a commonplace fact about the
world because very few causes are necessary for their effects. Unless the
background conditions are specified in great detail, or the identity of the
effect type is defined very narrowly, almost all cases involve a plurality of
causes. For example, flipping the light switch is a necessary cause of the
light’s going on, only if one assumes that there will be no short circuit
across the switch, that the wiring will remain as it is, and so on, or if one
assumes that by ‘the light’s going on’ one means the light’s going on in the
normal way.
poiesis Grecian, ‘production’, behavior
aimed at an external end. In Aristotle, poiesis is opposed to praxis action. It
is characteristic of crafts e.g.
building, the end of which is houses. It is thus a kinesis process. For Aristotle,
exercising the virtues, since it must be undertaken for its own sake, cannot be
poiesis. The knowledge involved in virtue is therefore not the same as that
involved in crafts. R.C. Grice, who liked opera, was fascinated by the history
of the Bardi camerata, and their idea of the ‘melopea,’ or music making.
poincaré, philosopher, born into a
prominent family in Nancy, he showed extraordinary talent in mathematics from
an early age. He studied at the École des Mines and worked as a mining engineer
while completing his doctorate in mathematics 1879. In 1, he was appointed
professor at the of Paris, where he
lectured on mathematics, physics, and astronomy until his death. His original
contributions to the theory of differential equations, algebraic topology, and
number theory made him the leading mathematician of his day. He published
almost five hundred technical papers as well as three widely read books on the
philosophy of science: Science and Hypothesis 2, The Value of Science 5, and
Science and Method 8. Poincaré’s philosophy of science was shaped by his
approach to mathematics. Geometric axioms are neither synthetic a priori nor
empirical; they are more properly understood as definitions. Thus, when one set
of axioms is preferred over another for use in physics, the choice is a matter
of “convention”; it is governed by criteria of simplicity and economy of
expression rather than by which geometry is “correct.” Though Euclidean
geometry is used to describe the motions of bodies in space, it makes no sense
to ask whether physical space “really” is Euclidean. Discovery in mathematics
resembles discovery in the physical sciences, but whereas the former is a
construction of the human mind, the latter has to be fitted to an order of
nature that is ultimately independent of mind. Science provides an economic and
fruitful way of expressing the relationships between classes of sensations,
enabling reliable predictions to be made. These sensations reflect the world
that causes them; the limited objectivity of science derives from this fact,
but science does not purport to determine the nature of that underlying world.
Conventions, choices that are not determinable by rule, enter into the physical
sciences at all levels. Such principles as that of the conservation of energy
may appear to be empirical, but are in fact postulates that scientists have
chosen to treat as implicit definitions. The decision between alternative
hypotheses also involves an element of convention: the choice of a particular
curve to represent a finite set of data points, e.g., requires a judgment as to
which is simpler. Two kinds of hypotheses, in particular, must be
distinguished. Inductive generalizations from observation “real
generalizations” are hypothetical in the limited sense that they are always
capable of further precision. Then there are theories “indifferent hypotheses”
that postulate underlying entities or structures. These entities may seem
explanatory, but strictly speaking are no more than devices useful in
calculation. For atomic theory to explain, atoms would have to exist. But this
cannot be established in the only way permissible for a scientific claim, i.e.
directly by experiment. Shortly before he died, Poincaré finally allowed that
Perrin’s experimental verification of Einstein’s predictions regarding Brownian
motion, plus his careful marshaling of twelve other distinct experimental
methods of calculating Avogadro’s number, constituted the equivalent of an
experimental proof of the existence of atoms: “One can say that we see them
because we can count them. . . . The atom of the chemist is now a reality.”
polarity, the relation between distinct
phenomena, terms, or concepts such that each inextricably requires, though it
is opposed to, the other, as in the relation between the north and south poles
of a magnet. In application to terms or concepts, polarity entails that the
meaning of one involves the meaning of the other. This is conceptual polarity.
Terms are existentially polar provided an instance of one cannot exist unless
there exists an instance of the other. The second sense implies the first.
Supply and demand and good and evil are instances of conceptual polarity. North
and south and buying and selling are instances of existential polarity. Some
polar concepts are opposites, such as truth and falsity. Some are correlative,
such as question and answer: an answer is always an answer to a question; a
question calls for an answer, but a question can be an answer, and an answer
can be a question. The concept is not restricted to pairs and can be extended
to generate mutual interdependence, multipolarity.
civis -- political philosophy, the study
of the nature and justification of coercive institutions. Coercive institutions
range in size from the family to the nation-state and world organizations like
the United Nations. They are institutions that at least sometimes employ force
or the threat of force to control the behavior of their members. Justifying
such coercive institutions requires showing that the authorities within them
have a right to be obeyed and that their members have a corresponding
obligation to obey them, i.e., that these institutions have legitimate
political authority over their members. Classical political philosophers, like
Plato and Aristotle, were primarily interested in providing a justification for
city-states like Athens or Sparta. But historically, as larger coercive
institutions became possible and desirable, political philosophers sought to
justify them. After the seventeenth century, most political philosophers
focused on providing a justification for nationstates whose claim to legitimate
authority is restricted by both geography and nationality. But from time to
time, and more frequently in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, some political
philosophers have sought to provide a justification for various forms of world
government with even more extensive powers than those presently exercised by
the United Nations. And quite recently, feminist political philosophers have
raised important challenges to the authority of the family as it is presently
constituted. Anarchism from Grecian an archos, ‘no government’ rejects this
central task of political philosophy. It maintains that no coercive
institutions are justified. Proudhon, the first self-described anarchist,
believed that coercive institutions should be replaced by social and economic
organizations based on voluntary contractual agreement, and he advocated
peaceful change toward anarchism. Others, notably Blanqui and Bakunin, advocated
the use of violence to destroy the power of coercive institutions. Anarchism
inspired the anarcho-syndicalist movement, Makhno and his followers during the
Russian Civil War, the anarchists during
the Civil War, and the anarchist
gauchistes during the 8 “May Events” in France. Most political philosophers,
however, have sought to justify coercive institutions; they have simply
disagreed over what sort of coercive institutions are justified. Liberalism,
which derives from the work of Locke, is the view that coercive institutions
are justified when they promote liberty. For Locke, liberty requires a
constitutional monarchy with parliamentary government. Over time, however, the
ideal of liberty became subject to at least two interpretations. The view that
seems closest to Locke’s is classical liberalism, which is now more frequently
called political libertarianism. This form of liberalism interprets constraints
on liberty as positive acts i.e., acts of commission that prevent people from
doing what they otherwise could do. According to this view, failing to help
people in need does not restrict their liberty. Libertarians maintain that when
liberty is so interpreted only a minimal or night-watchman state that protects
against force, theft, and fraud can be justified. In contrast, in welfare
liberalism, a form of liberalism that derives from the work of T. H. Green,
constraints on liberty are interpreted to include, in addition, negative acts
i.e., acts of omission that prevent people from doing what they otherwise could
do. According to this view, failing to help people in need does restrict their
liberty. Welfare liberals maintain that when liberty is interpreted in this
fashion, coercive institutions of a welfare state requiring a guaranteed social
minimum and equal opportunity are justified. While no one denies that when
liberty is given a welfare liberal interpretation some form of welfare state is
required, there is considerable debate over whether a minimal state is required
when liberty is given a libertarian interpretation. At issue is whether the
liberty of the poor is constrained when they are prevented from taking from the
surplus possessions of the rich what they need for survival. If such prevention
does constrain the liberty of the poor, it could be argued that their liberty
should have priority over the liberty of the rich not to be interfered with
when using their surplus possessions for luxury purposes. In this way, it could
be shown that even when the ideal of liberty is given a libertarian interpretation,
a welfare state, rather than a minimal state, is justified. Both libertarianism
and welfare liberalism are committed to individualism. This view takes the
rights of individuals to be basic and justifies the actions of coercive
institutions as promoting those rights. Communitarianism, which derives from
the writings of Hegel, rejects individualism. It maintains that rights of
individuals are not basic and that the collective can have rights that are
independent of and even opposed to what liberals claim are the rights of
individuals. According to communitarians, individuals are constituted by the
institutions and practices of which they are a part, and their rights and
obligations derive from those same institutions and practices. Fascism is an
extreme form of communitarianism that advocates an authoritarian state with
limited rights for individuals. In its National Socialism Nazi variety, fascism
was also antiSemitic and militarist. In contrast to liberalism and
communitarianism, socialism takes equality to be the basic ideal and justifies
coercive institutions insofar as they promote equality. In capitalist societies
where the means of production are owned and controlled by a relatively small
number of people and used primarily for their benefit, socialists favor taking
control of the means of production and redirecting their use to the general
welfare. According to Marx, the principle of distribution for a socialist
society is: from each according to ability, to each according to needs.
Socialists disagree among themselves, however, over who should control the
means of production in a socialist society. In the version of socialism favored
by Lenin, those who control the means of production are to be an elite
seemingly differing only in their ends from the capitalist elite they replaced.
In other forms of socialism, the means of production are to be controlled
democratically. In advanced capitalist societies, national defense, police and
fire protection, income redistribution, and environmental protection are
already under democratic control. Democracy or “government by the people” is
thought to apply in these areas, and to require some form of representation.
Socialists simply propose to extend the domain of democratic control to include
control of the means of production, on the ground that the very same arguments
that support democratic control in these recognized areas also support
democratic control of the means of production. In addition, according to Marx,
socialism will transform itself into communism when most of the work that
people perform in society becomes its own reward, making differential monetary
reward generally unnecessary. Then distribution in society can proceed
according to the principle, from each according to ability, to each according
to needs. It so happens that all of the above political views have been
interpreted in ways that deny that women have the same basic rights as men. By
contrast, feminism, almost by definition, is the political view that women and
men have the same basic rights. In recent years, most political philosophers
have come to endorse equal basic rights for women and men, but rarely do they
address questions that feminists consider of the utmost importance, e.g., how
responsibilities and duties are to be assigned in family structures. Each of
these political views must be evaluated both internally and externally by
comparison with the other views. Once this is done, their practical
recommendations may not be so different. For example, if welfare liberals
recognize that the basic rights of their view extend to distant peoples and
future generations, they may end up endorsing the same degree of equality
socialists defend. Whatever their practical requirements, each of these
political views justifies civil disobedience, even revolution, when certain of
those requirements have not been met. Civil disobedience is an illegal action
undertaken to draw attention to a failure by the relevant authorities to meet
basic moral requirements, e.g., the refusal of Rosa Parks to give up her seat
in a bus to a white man in accord with the local ordinance in Montgomery,
Alabama, in 5. Civil disobedience is justified when illegal action of this sort
is the best way to get the relevant authorities to bring the law into better
correspondence with basic moral requirements. By contrast, revolutionary action
is justified when it is the only way to correct a radical failure of the
relevant authorities to meet basic moral requirements. When revolutionary
action is justified, people no longer have a political obligation to obey the
relevant authorities; that is, they are no longer morally required to obey
them, although they may still continue to do so, e.g. out of habit or fear.
Recent contemporary political philosophy has focused on the communitarianliberal
debate. In defense of the communitarian view, Alasdair MacIntyre has argued
that virtually all forms of liberalism attempt to separate rules defining right
action from conceptions of the human good. On this account, he contends, these
forms of liberalism must fail because the rules defining right action cannot be
adequately grounded apart from a conception of the good. Responding to this
type of criticism, some liberals have openly conceded that their view is not
grounded independently of some conception of the good. Rawls, e.g., has
recently made clear that his liberalism requires a conception of the political
good, although not a comprehensive conception of the good. It would seem,
therefore, that the debate between communitarians and liberals must turn on a
comparative evaluation of their competing conceptions of the good.
Unfortunately, contemporary communitarians have not yet been very forthcoming
about what particular conception of the good their view requires.
res publica: -- political theory,
reflection concerning the empirical, normative, and conceptual dimensions of
political life. There are no topics that all political theorists do or ought to
address, no required procedures, no doctrines acknowledged to be authoritative.
The meaning of ‘political theory’ resides in its fluctuating uses, not in any
essential property. It is nevertheless possible to identify concerted
tendencies among those who have practiced this activity over twenty-five
centuries. Since approximately the seventeenth century, a primary question has
been how best to justify the political rule of some people over others. This
question subordinated the issue that had directed and organized most previous
political theory, namely, what constitutes the best form of political regime.
Assuming political association to be a divinely ordained or naturally necessary
feature of the human estate, earlier thinkers had asked what mode of political
association contributes most to realizing the good for humankind. Signaling the
variable but intimate relationship between political theory and political
practice, the change in question reflected and helped to consolidate acceptance
of the postulate of natural human equality, the denial of divinely or naturally
given authority of some human beings over others. Only a small minority of
postseventeenth-century thinkers have entertained the possibility, perhaps
suggested by this postulate, that no form of rule can be justified, but the
shift in question altered the political theory agenda. Issues concerning
consent, individual liberties and rights, various forms of equality as integral
to justice, democratic and other controls on the authority and power of
government none of which were among the
first concerns of ancient or medieval political thinkers moved to the center of political theory.
Recurrent tendencies and tensions in political theory may also be discerned
along dimensions that cross-cut historical divisions. In its most celebrated
representations, political theory is integral to philosophy. Systematic
thinkers such as Plato and Aristotle, Augustine and Aquinas, Hobbes and Hegel,
present their political thoughts as supporting and supported by their ethics
and theology, metaphysics and epistemology. Political argumentation must
satisfy the same criteria of logic, truth, and justification as any other; a
political doctrine must be grounded in the nature of reality. Other political
theorists align themselves with empirical science rather than philosophy. Often
focusing on questions of power, they aim to give accurate accounts and
factually grounded assessments of government and politics in particular times
and places. Books IVVI of Aristotle’s Politics inaugurate this conception of
political theory; it is represented by Montesquieu, Marx, and much of
utilitarianism, and it is the numerically predominant form of academic
political theorizing in the twentieth century. Yet others, e.g., Socrates,
Machiavelli, Rousseau, and twentieth-century thinkers such as Rawls, mix the
previously mentioned modes but understand themselves as primarily pursuing the
practical objective of improving their owpolitical societies. Grice: “I always
wonder how Cicero felt happy about his translation into Roman of Grecian
‘politeia.’ Indeed, the Romans preferred to use Lat. civitas as
a literal transliteration of ‘politeia,” in geographical sense, SIG888.118 (Scaptopara, iii A. D.),
Mitteis Chr.78.6 (iv A. D.), etc. Indeed, The Romans
used ‘res publica,’ also as one word,
respublica, the common weal, a commonwealth, state, republic (cf.
civitas); also, civil affairs, administration, or power,
etc.: qui pro republicā, non pro suā obsonat, Cato ap. Ruf.
18, p. 210; cf.: “erat tuae virtutis, in minimis tuas res ponere, de re publicā vehementius laborare,” Cic. Fam. 4, 9, 3: “dummodo ista privata sit calamitas et a rei publicae periculis sejungatur,” id. Cat. 1, 9; cf.: “si re publicā non possis frui, stultum est nolle privatā,” id. Fam. 4, 9, 4: “egestates tot egentissimorum hominum nec privatas posse res nec rem publicam sustinere,” id. Att. 9, 7, 5 (v. publicus); Cato ap. Gell. 10, 14, 3: auguratum est, rem Romanam
publicam summam fore, Att. ap. Cic. Div. 1, 22, 45: “quo utiliores rebus suis publicis essent,” Cic. Off. 1, 44, 155: “commutata ratio est rei totius publicae,” id. Att. 1, 8, 4: pro republicā niti, Cato
ap. Charis. p. 196 fin.: “merere de republicā,” Plaut. Am. prol. 40: “de re publicā disputatio . . . dubitationem ad rem publicam adeundi tollere, etc.,” Cic. Rep. 1, 7, 12: “oppugnare rem publicam,” id. Cael. 1, 1; id. Har. Resp. 8, 15; id. Sest. 23, 52: “paene victā re publicā,” id. Fam. 12, 13, 1: “delere rem publicam,” id. Sest. 15, 33; Lact. 6,
18, 28.—Esp. in the phrase e re publicā, for the good of the
State, for the public benefit: “senatūs consultis bene et e re publicā factis,” Cic. Phil. 3, 12, 30: “ea si dicam non esse e re publicā dividi,” id. Fam. 13, 8, 2; id. Mil. 5, 14; Liv. 8, 4, 12; 25, 7, 4; 34, 34, 9; Suet. Rhet.
1 init.—Post-class. and rare, also ex republicā, Gell. 6, 3, 47; 11, 9, 1; “but exque is used for euphony (class.): id eum recte atque ordine exque re publicā fecisse,” Cic. Phil. 3, 15, 38; 5, 13,
36; 10, 11, 26.— In plur.: “eae nationes respublicas suas amiserunt, C. Gracch. ap. Fest. s. h. v. p. 286 Müll.: hoc loquor de tribus his generibus rerum publicarum,” Cic. Rep. 1, 28, 44: “circuitus in rebus publicis commutationum,” id. ib. 1, 29, 45 et
saep.— At times, Grice preferred to stick with the more literal, ‘civitas.’ cīvĭtas , ātis ( I.gen. plur. civitatium, Cic. Rep. 1, 34,
51; id. Leg. 2, 4, 9; Caes. B. G. 4, 3; 5, 22; Sall. C. 40, 2; Liv. 1, 17, 4;
2, 6, 5; 33, 20, 11 Drak.; 42, 30, 6; 42, 44, 1; 45, 34, 1; Vell. 2, 42, 2;
Quint. 2, 16, 4 N. cr.; Suet. Tit. 8 Oud.; Cornut. ap. Charis. p. 100 P.; cf.
Varr. L. L. 8, § 66; Prisc. p. 771 P.; Neue, Formenl. 1, 268), f. civis. I.
Abstr., the condition or privileges of a (Roman) citizen, citizenship, freedom
of the city (upon its conditions, v. Zimmern, Rechtsgesch. 2, § 123 sq.; “Dict.
of Antiq. p. 260 sqq.): Cato, cum esset Tusculi natus, in populi romani
civitatem susceptus est: ita, cum ortu Tusculanus esset, civitate Romanus,
etc.,” Cic. Leg. 2, 2, 5: “donare aliquem civitate,” id. Balb. 13, 20; Suet.
Caes. 24; 42; 76; id. Aug. 47; id. Tib. 51; id. Ner. 24: “dare civitatem
alicui,” Cic. Arch. 4, 7; 5, 10; Liv. 1, 28, 7; 8, 14, 8; Suet. Aug. 40; id.
Galb. 14: accipere aliquem in civitatem, Cic. Off. 1, 11, 35: “adsciscere in
civitatem,” Liv. 6, 40, 4: “ascribere aliquem in civitatem,” Cic. Arch. 4, 6:
“aliquem foederatis civitatibus ascribere,” id. ib. 4, 7: “in aliis civitatibus
ascriptus,” id. ib. 5, 10: “assequi,” Tac. A. 11, 23: “consequi,” Cic. Balb. 13,
31: “deponere,” id. Caecin. 34, 100: “decedere de civitate,” id. Balb. 5, 11:
“dicare se civitati,” id. ib. 11, 28: “in civitatem,” id. ib. 12, 30:
“eripere,” id. Caecin. 34, 99: “habere,” id. Balb. 13, 31: “impertiri
civitatem,” id. Arch. 5, 10: “furari civitatem,” id. Balb. 2, 5: “petere,”
Suet. Caes. 8: “Romanam assequi,” Tac. A. 11, 23: “adipisci,” Suet. Aug. 40:
“Romanam usurpare,” id. Calig. 38; id. Claud. 25: “amittere civitatem,” Cic.
Caecin. 34, 98: “adimere,” id. ib.; Suet. Caes. 28: “petere,” id. ib. 8:
“negare,” id. Aug. 40: “jus civitatis,” Cic. Caecin. 34, 98; id. Arch. 5, 11:
“recipere aliquem in civitatem,” id. Caecin. 34, 100; id. Arch. 10,22; id.
Balb. 13, 31: “relinquere,” id. Caecin. 34, 100: “retinere civitatem,” id.
Balb. 12, 30: “retinere aliquem in civitate,” id. Lig. 11, 33: “ademptio
civitatis,” id. Dom. 30, 78: “commemoratio,” Cic. Verr. 2, 5, 62, § 162:
“nomen,” id. ib.: “ereptor,” id. Dom. 30, 81.— B. Trop.: “ut oratio Romana
plane videatur, non civitate donata,” Quint. 8, 1, 3; cf.: “civitate Romanā
donare agricolationem,” Col. 1, 1, 12: “verbum hoc a te civitate donatum,”
naturalized, Gell. 19, 3, 3; Sen. Ep. 120, 4; id. Q. N. 5, 16, 4.—More freq.,
II. Concr., the citizens united in a community, the body - politic, the state, and
as this consists of one city and its territory, or of several cities, it
differs from urbs, i.e. the compass of the dwellings of the collected citizens;
“but sometimes meton., = urbs, v. B.: concilia coetusque hominum jure sociati,
quae civitates appellantur,” Cic. Rep. 6, 13, 13: “tum conventicula hominum,
quae postea civitates nominatae sunt, tum domicilia conjuncta, quas urbes
dicimus, etc.,” id. Sest. 42, 91; cf.: omnis populus, qui est talis coetus
multitudinis, qualem exposui; omnis civitas, quae est constitutio populi;
“omnis res publica, quae populi res est, etc.,” id. Rep. 1, 26, 41: “quia
sapiens non sum, nec haec urbs nec in eā civitas ... non dubitavisset, quin et
Roma urbs (esset), et eam civitas incoleret,” id. Ac. 2, 45, 137: “aucta civitate
magnitudine urbis,” Liv. 1, 45, 1: “Orgetorix civitati persuasit, ut de finibus
suis cum omnibus copiis exirent,” Caes. B. G. 1, 2 Oud.; so id. ib. 1, 4; 1,
19; 1, 31; cf. Sisenn. ap. Non. p. 429, 15: “civitates aut nationes devictae,”
Cic. Off. 1, 11, 35; Sall. C. 31, 1; Liv. 21, 1, 2: “io triumphe non semel
dicemus civitas omnis,” Hor. C. 4, 2, 51; cf. id. Epod. 16, 36 and 18: “cum
civitas in foro exspectatione erecta staret,” Liv. 3, 47, 1; so id. 2, 37, 5;
26, 18, 6; 34, 41, 1; Tac. A. 3, 11; Suet. Calig. 6; id. Tib. 17; 42:
“civitates aut condere novas aut conservare jam conditas,” Cic. Rep. 1, 7, 12;
id. Sull. 9, 28; id. Rep. 1, 8, 13; 1, 3, 5: “omnis civitas Helvetia in
quattuor pagos divisa est,” Caes. B. G. 1, 12: “quae pars civitatis Helvetiae, etc.,”
id. ib.: “non longe a Tolosatium finibus, quae civitas est in provinciā,” id.
ib. 1, 10: “Ubii, quorum fuit civitas ampla atque florens,” id. ib. 4, 3:
“Rhodiorum civitas, magna atque magnifica,” Sall. C. 51, 5; cf. id. J. 69, 3:
“Heraclea quae est civitas aequissimo jure ac foedere,” Cic. Arch. 4, 6 et
saep.: “administrare civitatem,” id. Off. 1, 25, 88: “mutari civitatum status,”
id. Leg. 3, 14, 32; so, “civitatis status,” Quint. 6, 1, 16; 11, 1, 85:
“(legibus) solutis stare ipsa (civitas) non possit,” id. 11, 1, 85: “lege
civitatis,” id. 12, 10, 26; cf. id. 5, 10, 25: “mos civitatis,” id. 10, 1, 107;
12, 3, 7; 1, 2, 2.—Of Plato's ideal republic: “si in illā commenticiā Platonis
civitate res ageretur,” Cic. de Or. 1, 53, 230.— 2. Trop.: “civitas caelitum,”
Plaut. Rud. prol. 2: “ut jam universus hic mundus una civitas sit communis
deorum atque hominum existimanda,” Cic. Leg. 1, 7, 23.— B. Meton., = urbs, a
city (rare and mostly post-Aug.; not in Cic. or Cæs.): civitatem incendere,
Enn. ap. Non. p. 429, 5 (Trag. 382 Vahl.): “cum errarem per totam civitatem,”
Petr. 8, 2; cf. id. 8, 141 fin.: “Lingonum,” Tac. H. 1, 54; 1, 64: “ab excidio
civitatis,” id. ib. 1, 63; “1, 69: circumjectae civitates,” id. ib. 3, 43:
“muri civitatis,” id. ib. 4, 65; id. A. 6, 42: “pererrata nocturnis
conversationibus,” Sen. Ben. 6, 32, 1: “expugnare civitatem,” Quint. 8, 3, 67;
cf.: “expugnandae civitates,” id. 12, 9, 2: “plurimas per totum orbem
civitates, terrae motu aut incendio afflictas restituit in melius,” Suet. Vesp.
17; cf. id. Tit. 8; id. Tib. 84 fin.; Lact. 2, 7, 19.— 2. Esp., the city, i. e.
Rome and its inhabitants, Tac. H. 1, 19; 2, 92; 4, 2.
pro-epi
distinction, the:
polysyllogism: a series of syllogisms connected by the fact that the conclusion
of one syllogism becomes a premise of another. The syllogism whose conclusion is
used as a premise in another syllogism within the chain is called the pro-syllogism;
the syllogism is which the conclusion of another syllogism within the chain is
used as a premise is called the epi-syllogism. To illustrate, take the standard
form of the simplest polysyllogism: “All
B is A,”All C is B, “All C is A,” “All C is A,” “ All D is C,” “All D is
A. The first member of this polysyllogism is the pro-syllogism, since its
conclusion occurs as a premise in the epi-syllogism. Grice: “Part of the charm
of my conversations with Strawson was that they were polysyllogistical, my
episyllogism invariably following his prosyllogism.””Part of the charm of my
conversations with Strawson was that they were polysyllogistical, my
episyllogism explicating at what his prosyllogism merely hinted.” Refs.: Grice,
“Robbing peter to pay paul.”
pomponazzi: important Italian
philosopher. an Aristotelian who taught at the universities of Padua and
Bologna. In De incantationibus “On Incantations,” 1556, he regards the world as
a system of natural causes that can explain apparently miraculous phenomena.
Human beings are subject to the natural order of the world, yet divine
predestination and human freedom are compatible De fato, “On Fate,” 1567.
Furthermore, he distinguishes between what is proved by natural reason and what
is accepted by faith, and claims that, since there are arguments for and
against the immortality of the human individual soul, this belief is to be
accepted solely on the basis of faith De immortalitate animae, “On the
Immortality of the Soul,” He defended his view of immortality in the Apologia
1518 and in the Defensorium 1519. These three works were reprinted as Tractatus
acutissimi 1525. Pomponazzi’s work was influential until the seventeenth
century, when Aristotelianism ceased to be the main philosophy taught at the
universities. The eighteenth-century freethinkers showed new interest in his
distinction between natural reason and faith. P.Gar. pons asinorum Latin,
‘asses’ bridge’, a methodological device based upon Aristotle’s description of
the ways in which one finds a suitable middle term to demonstrate categorical
propositions. Thus, to prove the universal affirmative, one should consider the
characters that entail the predicate P and the characters entailed by the
subject S. If we find in the two groups of characters a common member, we can
use it as a middle term in the syllogistic proof of say ‘All S are P’. Take
‘All men are mortal’ as the contemplated conclusion. We find that ‘organism’ is
among the characters entailing the predicate ‘mortal’ and is also found in the
group of characters entailed by the subject ‘men’, and thus it may be used in a
syllogistic proof of ‘All men are mortal’. To prove negative propositions we
must, in addition, consider characters incompatible with the predicate, or
incompatible with the subject. Finally, proofs of particular propositions
require considering characters that entail the subject. Refs.: Luigi Speranza, "Grice, Shropshire and Pomponazzi
on the immortality of the soul," per il Club Anglo-Italiano, The
Swimming-Pool Library, Villa Grice, Liguria, Italia.
porfirio: Grice preferred to read the
Latin version by Boezio – “Perhaps not literal, but implicatural.” -- Grecian
Neoplatonist philosopher, second to Plotinus in influence. He was born in Tyre,
and is thus sometimes called Porphyry the Phoenician. As a young man he went to
Athens, where he absorbed the Platonism of Cassius Longinus, who had in turn
been influenced by Ammonius Saccas in Alexandria. Porphyry went to Rome in 263,
where he became a disciple of Plotinus, who had also been influenced by
Ammonius. Porphyry lived in Rome until 269, when, urged by Plotinus to pons
asinorum Porphyry 722 722 travel as a
cure for severe depression, he traveled to Sicily. He remained there for
several years before returning to Rome to take over Plotinus’s school. He
apparently died in Rome. Porphyry is not noted for original thought. He seems
to have dedicated himself to explicating Aristotle’s logic and defending
Plotinus’s version of Neoplatonism. During his years in Sicily, Porphyry wrote
his two most famous works, the lengthy Against the Christians, of which only
fragments survive, and the Isagoge, or “Introduction.” The Isagoge, which
purports to give an elementary exposition of the concepts necessary to
understand Aristotle’s Categories, was tr. into Latin by Boethius and routinely
published in the Middle Ages with Latin editions of Aristotle’s Organon, or
logical treatises. Its inclusion in that format arguably precipitated the
discussion of the so-called problem of universals in the twelfth century.
During his later years in Rome, Porphyry collected Plotinus’s writings, editing
and organizing them into a scheme of his own
not Plotinus’s design, six groups
of nine treatises, thus called the Enneads. Porphyry prefaced his edition with
an informative biography of Plotinus, written shortly before Porphyry’s own
death.
port-royal-des-champs semantics -- originally
entitled “La logique, ou L’art de penser,” a treatise on logic, language, and
method composed by Antoine Arnauld and Pierre Nicole, possibly with the help of
Pascal, all of whom were solitaires associated with the convent at
Port-Royal-des-Champs, the spiritual and intellectual center of Jansenism. Originally written as an
instruction manual for the son of the Duc de Luynes, the Logic was soon
expanded and published the first edition appeared in 1662, but it was
constantly being modified, augmented, and rewritten by its authors; by 1685 six
editions in had appeared. The work
develops the linguistic theories presented by Arnauld and Claude Lancelot in
the Grammaire générale et raisonnée 1660, and reflects the pedagogical
principles embodied in the curriculum of the “little schools” run by PortRoyal.
Its content is also permeated by the Cartesianism to which Arnauld was devoted.
The Logic’s influence grew beyond Jansenist circles, and it soon became in
seventeenth-century France a standard manual for rigorous thinking. Eventually,
it was adopted as a textbook in schools.
The authors declare their goal to be to make thought more precise for better
distinguishing truth from error
philosophical and theological and
to develop sound judgment. They are especially concerned to dispel the errors
and confusions of the Scholastics. Logic is “the art of directing reason to a
knowledge of things for the instruction of ourselves and others.” This art
consists in reflecting on the mind’s four principal operations: conceiving,
judging, reasoning, and ordering. Accordingly, the Logic is divided into four
sections: on ideas and conception, on judgments, on reasoning, and on method..
Refs.: Luigi Speranza, “Grice – Boezio, Porfirio.”
positive and negative freedom,
respectively, the area within which the individual is self-determining and the
area within which the individual is left free from interference by others. More
specifically, one is free in the positive sense to the extent that one has
control over one’s life, or rules oneself. In this sense the term is very close
to that of ‘autonomy’. The forces that can prevent this self-determination are
usually thought of as internal, as desires or passions. This conception of
freedom can be said to have originated with Plato, according to whom a person
is free when the parts of the soul are rightly related to each other, i.e. the
rational part of the soul rules the other parts. Other advocates of positive
freedom include Spinoza, Rousseau, Kant, and Hegel. One is free in the negative
sense if one is not prevented from doing something by another person. One is
prevented from doing something if another person makes it impossible for one to
do something or uses coercion to prevent one from doing something. Hence
persons are free in the negative sense if they are not made unfree in the
negative sense. The term ‘negative liberty’ was coined by Bentham to mean the
absence of coercion. Advocates of negative freedom include Hobbes, Locke, and
Hume.
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