il grand tour di grice: impiegato 12/27

 

 

Guicciardini. Grice: “Guicciardini is what I call an Italian classic; some like Machiavelli, as Austin used to say, “but Guicciardini is MY Renaissance man!” – Grice: “There are various topics of interest: the italian of Machiavelli and Guicciardini in the development of a philosophical political lexicon; there’s the trope of the centaur –‘all’ombra del centauro.’ – Pure political philosophy of the type enjoyed by members of the Debating Union at Oxford!”  Ritratto di francesco guicciardini.. Ambasciatore della Repubblica di Firenze in Spagna Durata mandato                      17 ottobre 1511ottobre 1513 Capo di StatoPier Soderini (Repubblica) Cardinale Giovanni de' Medici (Signoria)  Membro del consiglio degli Otto di Guardia e Balia Durata mandato14 agosto 1514ottobre 1515 MonarcaGiuliano di Lorenzo de' Medici Lorenzo di Piero de' Medici  Membro della Signoria di Firenze Durata mandatosettembre 1515ottobre 1515 MonarcaGiuliano di Lorenzo de' Medici Commissario pontificio di Modena Durata mandato5 aprile 15164 maggio 1519 MonarcaLorenzo di Piero de' Medici Commissario generale dell'esercito dello Stato Pontificio Durata mandato12 luglio 152125 dicembre 1523 MonarcaLeone X Adriano VI  Presidente della Romagna Pontificia Durata mandato19 marzo 15231526 MonarcaAdriano VI Clemente VII  Dati generali Titolo di studioLaurea in diritto civile UniversitàPisa ProfessioneAvvocato  Statua di Francesco Guicciardini, Galleria degli Uffizi, Firenze. Francesco Guicciardini (Firenze), filosofo. Dettaglio della statua del Guicciardini. Francesco Guicciardini nacque a Firenze il 6 marzo 1483, terzogenito dei Guicciardini, famiglia tra le più fedeli al governo mediceo. Dopo una prima formazione umanistica in ambito familiare dedicata alla lettura dei grandi storici dell'antichità (Senofonte, Tucidide, Livio, Tacito), studiò a Firenze giurisprudenza, seguendo le lezioni del celebre Francesco Pepi. Dal 1500 soggiornò a Ferrara per circa due anni, per poi trasferirsi a Padova per seguire le lezioni di docenti di maggior importanza. Rientrato a Firenze nel 1505, vi esercitò, sebbene non fosse ancora laureato, l'incarico di istituzioni di diritto civile; nel novembre dello stesso anno ottenne il dottorato in ius civile ed iniziò la sua carriera forense.  Nel 1506 si concluse la sua attività accademica; nel frattempo, contrasse matrimonio, contro il volere paterno, con Maria Salviati, figlia di Alamanno Salviati e appartenente ad una famiglia politicamente esposta ed apertamente contraria a Pier Soderini, all'epoca gonfaloniere a vita di Firenze. Guicciardini si curò poco di queste rivalità, in quanto il suo interesse principale era avere un futuro ruolo politico, alla luce soprattutto del prestigio di cui godeva la famiglia della moglie, che avrebbe potuto avere per lui un effetto positivo.  Questo matrimonio infatti funse per lui da trampolino di lancio, garantendogli una brillante e rapida ascesa politica: con l'aiuto del suocero fu nominato tra i capitani dello Spedale del Ceppo, una carica non molto significativa di per sé, ma prestigiosa in quanto a membri insigniti dell'onorificenza. Nel 1508 curò l'istruttoria contro il podestà Piero Ludovico da Fano, iniziando la stesura delle Storie fiorentine e dei Ricordi. Esattamente dieci anni prima, ossia con l'anno 1498, si chiudono quelle Cronache forlivesi di Leone Cobelli che espongono le premesse degli avvenimenti riguardanti Caterina Sforza e Cesare Borgia di cui Guicciardini si occupa, nelle sue Storie, per i notevoli riflessi che hanno sulla politica fiorentina.  Nel 1509, in occasione della guerra contro Pisa, venne chiamato a pratica dalla signoria, ottenendo, grazie all'aiuto del Salviati, l'avvocatura del capitolo di Santa Liberata. Questi progressi portarono il Guicciardini anche ad una rapida ascesa nella politica internazionale, ricevendo dalla Repubblica Fiorentina l'incarico di ambasciatore in Spagna presso Ferdinando il Cattolico nel 1512. Da questa sua esperienza nell'attività diplomatica nacque la Relazione di Spagna, una lucida analisi delle condizioni socio-politiche della Penisola Iberica e anche il "Discorso di Logrogno", un'opera di teoria politica in cui Guicciardini sostiene una riforma in senso aristocratico della Repubblica fiorentina.  Nel 1513 fece ritorno a Firenze, dove da circa un anno era stata restaurata la Signoria Medicea con l'appoggio dell'esercito ispano-pontificio. Dal 1514 fece parte degli Otto di Guardia e Balia e nel 1515 entrò a far parte della signoria, divenendo, grazie ai suoi servigi resi ai Medici, avvocato concistoriale e governatore di Modena nel 1516, con la salita al soglio pontificio di Giovanni de' Medici, col nome di Leone X. Il suo ruolo di primo piano nella politica emiliano-romagnola si rinforzò notevolmente nel 1517, con la nomina a governatore di Reggio Emilia e di Parma, proprio nel periodo del delicato conflitto franco-imperiale. Fu nominato nel 1521 commissario generale dell'esercito pontificio, alleato di Carlo V contro i francesi; in questo periodo maturò quell'esperienza che sarebbe stata cruciale nella redazione dei suoi Ricordi e della Storia d'Italia.  Alla morte di Leone X, avvenuta nel 1521, Guicciardini si trovò a contrastare l'assedio di Parma, argomento trattato nella Relazione della difesa di Parma. Dopo l'assunzione al papato di Giulio de' Medici, col nome di Clemente VII, venne inviato a governare la Romagna, una terra agitata dalle lotte tra le famiglie più potenti; qui Guicciardini diede ampio sfoggio delle sue notevoli abilità diplomatiche.  Per contrastare lo strapotere di Carlo V, propagandò un'alleanza fra gli stati regionali allora presenti in Italia e la Francia, in modo da salvaguardare in un certo qual modo l'indipendenza della penisola. L'accordo fu sottoscritto a Cognac nel 1526, ma si rivelò ben presto fallimentare; di questo periodo è il Dialogo del reggimento di Firenze, in due libri, scritti fra il 1521 e il 1526, in cui si ripropone il modello della repubblica aristocratica; nel 1527 la Lega subì una cocente disfatta e Roma fu messa al sacco dai Lanzichenecchi, mentre a Firenze veniva instaurata (per la terza ed ultima volta) la repubblica. Coinvolto in queste vicissitudini, e visto con diffidenza dai repubblicani per i suoi trascorsi medicei, si ritirò in un volontario esilio nella sua villa di Finocchieto, nei pressi di Firenze. Qui compose due orazioni, l'Oratio accusatoria e la defensoria, ed una Lettera Consolatoria, che segue il modello dell'oratio ficta, nella quale espose le accuse imputabili alla sua condotta con le adeguate confutazioni, e finse di ricevere consolazioni da un amico. Nel 1529 scrisse le Considerazioni intorno ai "Discorsi" del Machiavelli "sopra la prima deca di Tito Livio", in cui accese una polemica nei confronti della mentalità pessimistica dell'illustre concittadino. In questi mesi completa anche la redazione definitiva dei Ricordi.  Dopo la confisca dei beni, nel 1529 lasciò Firenze e ritornò a Roma, per rimettersi di nuovo al servizio di Clemente VII, che gli offrì l'incarico di diplomatico a Bologna. Dopo il rientro dei Medici a Firenze (1531), fu accolto alla corte medicea come consigliere del duca Alessandro e scrisse i Discorsi del modo di riformare lo stato dopo la caduta della Repubblica e di assicurarlo al duca Alessandro; non fu tenuto tuttavia in altrettanta considerazione dal successore di Alessandro, Cosimo I, che lo lasciò in disparte. Guicciardini allora si ritirò nella sua villa di Santa Margherita in Montici ad Arcetri, dove trascorse i suoi ultimi anni dedicandosi alla letteratura: riordinò i Ricordi politici e civili, raccolse i suoi Discorsi politici e soprattutto scrisse la Storia d'Italia. Morì ad Arcetri nel 1540, quando da circa due anni si era ormai ritirato a vita privata.  Il pensiero politico Questa voce non è neutrale! La neutralità di questa voce o sezione sugli argomenti storia e politica è stata messa in dubbio. Motivo: Fatta eccezione per il primo paragrafo, il testo esprime opinioni di parte e non supportate da fonti Per contribuire, correggi i toni enfatici o di parte e partecipa alla discussione. Non rimuovere questo avviso finché la disputa non è risolta. Segui i suggerimenti dei progetti di riferimento 1, 2. Guicciardini è noto soprattutto per la Storia d'Italia, vasto e dettagliato affresco delle vicende italiane tra il 1494 (anno della discesa in italia del Re francese Carlo VIII) e il 1534 (anno della morte di Papa Clemente VII) e capolavoro della storiografia della prima epoca moderna e della storiografia scientifica in generale. Come tale, è un monumento al ceto intellettuale italiano del XVI secolo, e più specificamente alla scuola fiorentina di storici filosofici (o politici) di cui fecero parte anche Niccolò Machiavelli, Bernardo Segni, Pitti, Jacopo Nardi, Benedetto Varchi, Francesco Vettori e Donato Giannotti.  L'opera districa la rete attorcigliata della politica degli stati italiani del Rinascimento con pazienza ed intuito. L'autore volutamente si pone come spettatore imparziale, come critico freddo e curioso, raggiungendo risultati eccellenti come analista e pensatore (anche se più debole è la comprensione delle forze in gioco nel più vasto quadro europeo).  Guicciardini è l'uomo dei programmi che mutano "per la varietà delle circunstanze" per cui al saggio è richiesta la discrezione (Ricordi, 6), ovvero la capacità di percepire "con buono e perspicace occhio" tutti gli elementi da cui si determina la varietà delle circostanze. La realtà non è quindi costituita da leggi universali immutabili come per Machiavelli. Altro concetto saliente del pensiero guicciardiniano è il particulare (Ricordi, 28) a cui si deve attenere il saggio, cioè il proprio interesse inteso nel suo significato più nobile come realizzazione piena della propria intelligenza e della propria capacità di agire a favore di se stesso e dello stato. In altre parole il particulare non va inteso egoisticamente, come un invito a prendere in considerazione solamente l'interesse personale, ma come un invito a considerare pragmaticamente quanto ognuno può effettivamente realizzare nella specifica situazione in cui si trova (pensiero che collima con quello di Machiavelli).  In netta polemica con Francesco Guicciardini, per alcuni passi della Storia d'Italia, Jacopo Pitti scrisse l'opuscolo Apologia dei Cappucci (1570-1575), a difesa della fazione dei democratici, soprannominati i Cappucci.  Fortuna Guicciardini è considerato il progenitore della storiografia moderna, per il suo pionieristico impiego di documenti ufficiali a fini di verifica della sua Storia d'Italia.  Fino al 1857 la reputazione di Guicciardini poggiava sulla Storia d'Italia e su alcuni estratti dai suoi aforismi. Nel 1857 i suoi discendenti, i conti Piero e Luigi Guicciardini, aprirono gli archivi di famiglia e diedero incarico a Giuseppe Canestrini di pubblicare, in 10 volumi, le sue memorie.  Negli anni dal 1938 al 1972 furono pubblicati i suoi Carteggi, che contribuirono in modo determinante ad un'accurata conoscenza della sua personalità.  La critica secentesca  Antoon van Dyck, Ritratto equestre di Anton Giulio Brignole Sale, 1627 «L’angolo di prospettiva dal quale si prese a considerare, nella prima metà del secolo XVII, l’opera guicciardiniana, la posizione di questa nel giudizio dei lettori secenteschi, sono bene indicati da uno spirito acuto dell’epoca, A. G. Brignole Sale (1636): «quindi non per altro, a mio giudizio, porta pregio il Guicciardini sopra il Giovio, sol che questi, qual pittor gentile, de’ soggetti ch’egli ha per le mani colorisce agli occhi altrui con vivacissimi ritratti, senza inviscerarsi, la superficie, quegli per contrario, qual esperto notomista, trascurando anzi dilacerando la vaghezza della pelle, vien con l’acutezza della sua sagacità fino a mostrarci il cuore e il cervello de’ famosi personaggi ben penetrato». All’affiatamento con lo spirito dell’opera guicciardiniana si accompagnò, sul piano letterario, una migliore intelligenza del suo stile, di cui si cominciò ad ammirare, superando le pedanti riserve linguistiche, la scorrevolezza, l’intima misura e precisione pur nel tono sostenuto. Tuttavia, proprio dal più accreditato esponente letterario del tacitismo, T. Boccalini (1612), fu formulato un giudizio tra i meno benevoli alla Storia.»  Il giudizio di Francesco De Sanctis  Copertina di un'antica edizione della Storia d'Italia Francesco De Sanctis non ebbe simpatia per Guicciardini ed infatti non nascose di apprezzare maggiormente il Machiavelli. Nella sua Storia della letteratura italiana il critico irpino mise in evidenza come Guicciardini fosse, sì, in linea con le aspirazioni di Machiavelli, ma se il secondo agì in linea con i suoi ideali, il primo invece "non metterebbe un dito a realizzarli". Sempre nella sua Storia della letteratura italiana De Sanctis affermò: “Il dio del Guicciardini è il suo particolare. Ed è un dio non meno assorbente che il Dio degli ascetici, o lo stato del Machiavelli. Tutti gli ideali scompaiono. Ogni vincolo religioso, morale, politico, che tiene insieme un popolo, è spezzato. Non rimane sulla scena del mondo che l'individuo. Ciascuno per sé, verso e contro tutti. Questo non è più corruzione, contro la quale si gridi: è saviezza, è dottrina predicata e inculcata, è l'arte della vita”.  E poco più in basso aggiunse: "Questa base intellettuale è quella medesima del Machiavelli, l'esperienza e l'osservazione, il fatto e lo «speculare» o l'osservare. Né altro è il sistema. Il Guicciardini nega tutto quello che il Machiavelli nega, e in forma anche più recisa, e ammette quello che è più logico e più conseguente. Poiché la base è il mondo com'è, crede un'illusione a volerlo riformare, e volergli dare le gambe di cavallo, quando esso le ha di asino, e lo piglia com'è e vi si acconcia, e ne fa la sua regola e il suo istrumento".  Nel Romanticismo, la mancanza di evidenti passioni per l'oggetto dell'opera era infatti vista come un grave difetto, nei confronti sia del lettore che dell'arte letteraria. A ciò si aggiunga che il Guicciardini vale più come analista e pensatore che come scrittore. Lo stile è infatti prolisso, preciso a prezzo di circonlocuzioni e di perdita del senso generale della narrazione. "Qualsiasi oggetto egli tocchi, giace già cadavere sul tavolo delle autopsie".  Le opere  Scritti autobiografici e rari, Laterza, 1936 Storie fiorentine (dal 1508 al 1509), rimasta inedita fino al 1859 Discorso di Logrogno (1512) Considerazioni sui Discorsi del Machiavelli, (15271529) Ricordi politici e civili Dialogo del Reggimento di Firenze (dal 1521 al 1526) Storia d'Italia (dal 1537 al 1540) Scritti inediti sopra la politica di Clemente VII dopo la battaglia di PaviaGuicciardini , Firenze, Olschki, 1940. Le cose fiorentine, R. Ridolfi , Firenze, Olschki, 1945. Carteggi, 17 voll., 1938-72 (voll. 1-2 presso Zanichelli, Bologna;  3 presso Istituto per gli studi di politica internazionale, Firenze;  4 presso Istituto storico italiano per l'età moderna e contemporanea, Roma; voll. 5-17 presso P. G. Ricci, Roma) Note  "Donna di grandissimo animo e molto virile", secondo il Guicciardini (Storie fiorentine, cap. XIX).  Natalino Sapegno, Compendio di storia della letteratura italiana, La Nuova Italia, Firenze, 1963,  94-97.  A. G. BRIGNOLE-SALE, Tacito abburatato, Genova, 1643, Disc. IV133.  «Or chi non vedescriveva il Tassoniche questo è uno stil maestoso e nobile, quale appunto conviensi alla grandezza delle cose proposte e alla prudenza politica dell’Istorico che le tratta? e che non ostante i periodi sien tutti numerosi e sostenuti, per esser ben collocate le parole fra loro, e però l’ordine, e ’l senso facile e piano in maniera che ’l lettore non trova scabrosità né intoppi, come nello stil del Villani, che va saltellando e intoppando a ogni passo etc... ». A. TASSONI, Pensieri diversi, Venezia, 1665, libro IX324. Il legame del pensiero politico tassoniano con quello del Guicciardini (incluso, a differenza del Machiavelli, tra gli storici della «prima schiera» con Comines e Giovio, ossia considerato pari agli antichi; v. cap. XIII del libro X dei Pensieri) e del Machiavelli è noto: i due fiorentini, come dice il Fassò, furono «i due poli» a cui si volse la sua riflessione politica. (Introduz. a TASSONI, Opere, Milano-Roma, 194249).  T. BOCCALINI, Ragguagli di Parnaso e Pietra del paragone politico, I, Bari, 1910, Cent. I, ragg. VI.  Walter Binni, I classici italiani nella storia della critica: Da Dante al Marino, Nuova Italia, 1970,  493.  Testi Francesco Guicciardini, Dialogo e discorsi del reggimento di Firenze, Bari, Gius. Laterza & Figli, 1932. Francesco Guicciardini, Historia di Italia,  1, Pisa, presso Niccolò Capurro, 1819. Francesco Guicciardini, Historia di Italia,  2, Pisa, presso Niccolò Capurro, 1819. Francesco Guicciardini, Historia di Italia,  3, Pisa, presso Niccolò Capurro, 1819. Francesco Guicciardini, Historia di Italia,  4, Pisa, presso Niccolò Capurro, 1819. Francesco Guicciardini, Historia di Italia,  5, Pisa, presso Niccolò Capurro, 1819. Francesco Guicciardini, Historia di Italia,  6, Pisa, presso Niccolò Capurro, 1819. Francesco Guicciardini, Historia di Italia,  7, Pisa, presso Niccolò Capurro, 1819. Francesco Guicciardini, Historia di Italia,  8, Pisa, presso Niccolò Capurro, 1820. Francesco Guicciardini, Historia di Italia,  9, Pisa, presso Niccolò Capurro, 1820. Francesco Guicciardini, Historia di Italia,  10, Pisa, presso Niccolò Capurro, 1820. Francesco Guicciardini, Historia di Italia. Libri 1.-16., In Venetia, appresso Giorgio Angelieri, 1574. Francesco Guicciardini, Scritti autobiografici e rari, Bari, G. Laterza e Figli, 1936. Francesco Guicciardini, Scritti politici, Bari, G. Laterza, 1933. Francesco Guicciardini, Storia d'Italia,  1, Bari, G. Laterza, 1929. Francesco Guicciardini, Storia d'Italia,  2, Bari, G. Laterza, 1929. Francesco Guicciardini, Storia d'Italia,  3, Bari, G. Laterza, 1929. Francesco Guicciardini, Storia d'Italia,  4, Bari, G. Laterza, 1929. Francesco Guicciardini, Storia d'Italia,  5, Bari, G. Laterza, 1929. Francesco Guicciardini, Storie fiorentine dal 1378 al 1509, Bari, G. Laterza, 1931. Studi R. Ridolfi, 'Vita di Francesco Guicciardini', Milano 1982, Rusconi P. Treves, Il realismo politico di Francesco Guicciardini, Firenze, 1931 R. Ramat, Il Guicciardini e la tragedia d'Italia, Firenze 1953 V. De Caprariis, Francesco Guicciardini. Dalla politica alla storia, Napoli 1950 (ristampa Bologna 1993) G. Sasso, Per Francesco Guicciardini. Quattro studi, Roma 1985 E. Cutinelli-Rèndina, Guicciardini, Roma 2009  Famiglia Guicciardini Altri progetti Collabora a Wikisource Wikisource contiene una pagina dedicata a Francesco Guicciardini Collabora a Wikiquote Citazionio su Francesco Guicciardini Collabora a Wikimedia Commons Wikimedia Commons contiene immagini o altri file su Francesco Guicciardini  Francesco Guicciardini, su Treccani.itEnciclopedie on line, Istituto dell'Enciclopedia Italiana.  Francesco Guicciardini, in Enciclopedia Italiana, Istituto dell'Enciclopedia Italiana.  Francesco Guicciardini, in Dizionario di storia, Istituto dell'Enciclopedia Italiana, .  (IT, DE, FR) Francesco Guicciardini, su hls-dhs-dss.ch, Dizionario storico della Svizzera. Francesco Guicciardini, su Enciclopedia Britannica, Encyclopædia Britannica, Inc.  Francesco Guicciardini, in Dizionario biografico degli italiani, Istituto dell'Enciclopedia Italiana.  Francesco Guicciardini, su BeWeb, Conferenza Episcopale Italiana.  Opere di Francesco Guicciardini, su Liber Liber.  Opere di Francesco Guicciardini, su openMLOL, Horizons Unlimited srl. Opere di Francesco Guicciardini / Francesco Guicciardini (altra versione), . Edmund Garratt Gardner, Francesco Guicciardini, in Catholic Encyclopedia, Robert Appleton Company.  Propositioni, overo Considerationi in materia di cose di Stato, sotto titolo di Avvertimenti, Avvedimenti Civili, & Concetti Politici di Guicciardinii, Lottini, Sansovini, Venezia, Presso Altobello Salicato, 1583. Opere inedite di Francesco Guicciardini illustrate da Giuseppe Canestrini e pubblicate per cura dei conti Piero e Luigi Guicciardini, 10 voll., Firenze, Barbera, Bianchi e Comp., 1857-67:  1,  2,  3,  4,  5,  6,  7,  8,  9,  10. Opere, 9 voll., Bari, Gius. Laterza & figli, 1929-36:  1,  2,  3,  4,//bibliotecaitaliana.it/indice/visualizza_scheda/si150  5],  6,  7,  8,  9. PredecessoreGovernatore di ModenaSuccessore Giuliano de' Medici15161522PredecessoreGovernatore di Reggio EmiliaSuccessore 1517 PredecessoreGovernatore di ParmaSuccessore.

 

Guzzi: Grice: “Myy favourite is his dictionary of the unheard tongue – with a foreword like sounds like Blair on newspeak!” -- Marco Guzzi (Roma), filosofo. Ha trascorso l'adolescenza partecipando alla lotta politica studentesca, da allievo del Liceo classico statale Giulio Cesare, uno degli istituti scolastici superiori che più furono coinvolti nella contestazione giovanile dei primi anni settanta. Dopo aver conseguito la maturità classica nel 1973, si è laureato in giurisprudenza e successivamente anche in filosofia.  Ha coltivato in particolare l'interesse per la poesia e la filosofia tedesca, perfezionandosi presso le Friburgo in Brisgovia e Bonn. Le sue attività principali, nel campo culturale, hanno spaziato dalla partecipazione a trasmissioni radiofoniche culturali giovanili alla pubblicazione di numerose raccolte di poesia, alla redazione di numerosi saggi filosofici, in cui la filosofia contemporanea, in particolare heideggeriana, si coniuga a una profonda rimeditazione dei temi della teologia cattolica. A questa attività culturale, sviluppata anche in numerosi seminari tenuti, dal 1985 al 2002, come direttore dei seminari del Centro studi Eugenio Montale, si è affiancata la conduzione di trasmissioni radiofoniche per Radio RAI, fra le quali Dentro la sera, 3131, Lo specchio del cielo e Sognando il giorno.  Dal 1999 ha fondato e avviato l'esperienza dei Gruppi Darsi-pace, una ricerca sperimentale di liberazione interiore nell'orizzonte di una riconiugazione tra fede cristiana e modernità. Dal 2004 dirige la collana "Crocevia" presso le Edizioni Paoline.  Dal 2005 tiene corsi presso il "Claretianum", Istituto di Teologia della Vita Consacrata dell'Università Lateranense. Dal 2008 è professore invitato nella Facoltà di Scienze dell'Educazione dell'Università Pontificia Salesiana.  Nel 2009 Benedetto XVI lo ha nominato membro della Pontificia Accademia di Belle Arti e Lettere dei Virtuosi al Pantheon.  Dal  scrive sul blog collettivo Vinonuovo.  Guzzi è sposato e ha tre figli.  La poesia La poetica di Guzzi, fin dall'inizio, si è concepita come un'esperienza spirituale, una ricerca di stati più dilatati della coscienza, sulla scia della linea che da Hölderlin, e attraverso Rimbaud, arriva fino al nostro migliore ermetismo. Di raccolta in raccolta, la scrittura è diventata sempre più limpida fino ad approdare a una concezione profetica e meditativa della scrittura in versi. La parola, da strumento di autoanalisi, diventa così veicolo dell'annuncio di una rivoluzione teo-cosmologica, oltre che di una svolta interiore:  Il mio confine è Dio. È spalancato. Non c'è cancello o argine, un respiro lega i miei colori ai suoi comandamenti.  Il mio confine è il mio promesso sposo.  Un bambinetto batte le manine, lancia coriandoli sul capo del risorto.  Il pensiero Sulla scia di questa evoluzione della sua poetica, la ricerca teoretica di Guzzi ha affrontato, in particolare nel saggio filosofico La svolta, significativamente sottotitolato "La fine della storia e la via del ritorno", il tema del cambiamento epocale che a suo avviso l'uomo è chiamato a conoscere e riconoscere, dentro e fuori di sé. Questo cambiamento comporta, secondo Guzzi, l'abbandono di tutte quelle resistenze che impediscono all'uomo di aprirsi all'ascolto del messaggio cristiano: solo un ascolto autenticamente rigenerante della parola di Dio, intesa come appello alla rinascita innanzitutto personale, potrà consentire, secondo Guzzi, il superamento della crisi individuale e storica in cui versa l'uomo contemporaneo. La proposta teorica di Guzzi si concretizza, quindi, specialmente a partire dal volume Darsi paceUn manuale di liberazione interiore, in un vero e proprio cammino di autotrasformazione, a partire dalle proprie difficoltà personali; un lavoro interiore di formazione e di riflessione, che passa anche attraverso il linguaggio profetico e meditativo dei maggiori poeti e dei testi religiosi, per raggiungere, attraverso un percorso di rivelazione, la liberazione nel segno della pace. La teorizzazione si pone perciò a servizio dei processi concreti di trasformazione interiore proposti nei Gruppi Darsi-pace.  Opere Raccolte di poesia Anima in vetrina, 1977 Il Giorno, Scheiwiller, 1988 Teatro Cattolico, Jaca Book, 1991 Figure dell'ira e dell'indulgenza, Jaca Book, 1997 Preparativi alla vita terrena, Passigli,2002 Nella mia storia Dio, Passigli, 2005 Parole per nascere, Edizioni Paoline,  Saggi di filosofia e di religione La Svolta, Jaca Book 1987 Rivolgimenti, Marietti 1990 L'Uomo Nascente, Red, 1997 Passaggi di millennio, Edizioni Paoline, 1998 L'Ordine del Giorno, Edizioni Paoline, 1999 Cristo e la nuova era, Edizioni Paoline, 2000 La profezia dei poeti, Moretti e Vitali, 2002 Darsi pace, Edizioni Paoline, 2004 La nuova umanità, Edizioni Paoline, 2005 Per donarsi, Edizioni Paoline, 2007 Yoga e preghiera cristiana, Edizioni Paoline, 2009 Dalla fine all'inizio, Edizioni Paoline,  Dodici parole per ricominciare, Ancora  Il cuore a nudo, Edizioni Paoline,  Buone Notizie, Ed. Messaggero  Imparare ad amare, Edizioni Paoline  L'Insurrezione dell'umanità nascente, Edizioni Paoline,  Fede e Rivoluzione, Edizioni Paoline  FacebookIl profilo dell'Uomo di Dio, Edizioni Paoline  Alla ricerca del continente della gioia, Edizioni Paoline  Dizionario della lingua inauditaLingua e Rivoluzione, Edizioni Paoline  Altri progetti Collabora a Wikimedia Commons Wikimedia Commons contiene immagini o altri file su Marco Guzzi  Il sito ufficiale di Marco Guzzi, su marcoguzzi.it. Il sito ufficiale dei Gruppi Darsi pace, su darsipace.it. Blog, su vinonuovo.it.

 

Guzzo: Grice: “I admire Guzzo; he founded ‘Filosofia,’ a philosophy magazine and led a school at Torino, but he selected ‘pagine di filosofi per i giovani italiani.’ He wrote interesting essays on “Gli hegeliani d’Italia” and Croce versus Gentile – a very systematic philosopher. The logo of his revista shows Oedipus and thes sphynx – that says it all!” -- Augusto Guzzo (Napoli),  filosofo. Si laureò all'Napoli nel 1915, dove fu allievo del neohegeliano Sebastiano Maturi. Dal 1924 al 1932 insegnò filosofia e storia della filosofia alla facoltà di magistero dell'Torino, fondando la rivista "Erma", e dal 1932 al 1934 filosofia morale presso l'Pisa, dove fu anche direttore del seminario di filosofia della Scuola normale superiore. Nel 1934 tornò a Torino, dove insegnò prima filosofia morale (succedendo a Erminio Juvalta) e poi, dal 1939 al 1964, filosofia teoretica (succedendo ad Annibale Pastore). Fondò, insieme con Nicola Abbagnano, la sezione piemontese dell'Istituto Italiano per gli Studi filosofici.  Ebbe fra i suoi allievi Luigi Pareyson, Francesco Barone e Valerio Verra.  Fu presidente dell'Accademia delle Scienze di Torino dal 17 giugno 1970 al 25 giugno 1973, anno in cui gli subentrò Francesco Giacomo Tricomi.  Nel 1955 l'Accademia dei Lincei gli conferì il Premio Feltrinelli per la Filosofia.  Morì a Torino il 23 agosto 1986. È sepolto nel Cimitero monumentale di Torino.  Pensiero Esponente dell'idealismo italiano, si avvicinò all'attualismo di Giovanni Gentile, interpretato però in chiave di conciliazione con il pensiero cattolico. È considerato quindi uno dei più grandi esponenti dello spiritualismo italiano.  Opere principali Il pensiero di Spinoza, 1924 Kant precritico, 1924 Verità e realtà. Apologia dell'idealismo, 1925 Idealisti ed empiristi, 1935 Agostino e Tommaso, 1958 Giordano Bruno, 1960 Vita di Cordelia Guzzo, 1974 Storia della filosofia e della civiltà per saggi, 1975 L'uomo, Brescia, Morcelliana; poi Torino, Edizioni di filosofia, 1947-1964. Comprende: 1. L'io e la ragione, 1947 2. La moralità, 1950 3. La scienza, 1955 4. L'arte, 1962 5. La religione, 1964 6. La filosofia, 1964 Con la collaborazione di sua moglie Cordelia Capone, anche lei filosofa, tradusse in italiano The Idea of Christ in the Gospels or God in Man di George Santayana, opera di cui pubblicò una recensione nel Giornale di metafisica, IV, 4 (15 luglio 1949). Pubblicò nel 1963 anche un Alcifrone di George Berkeley a cura sua e della moglie Cordelia. Pubblicò a partire dal 1950 la rivista "Filosofia", alla quale aggiunse nel 1959 un fascicolo internazionale, che nel 1969 divenne "Studi internazionali di filosofia". Nella stessa rivista, in un fascicolo speciale del 1974, pubblicò una "Vita di Cordelia Guzzo", biografia della moglie, ricca di aneddoti sulla vita privata e l'attività scientifica dell'autore.  Note  Presidenti Archiviato il 22 aprile 2009 in . dell'Accademia delle Scienze di Torino.  Premi Feltrinelli 1950-, su lincei.it. 17 novembre .  Pietro Fernando Quarta, Augusto Guzzo e la sua scuola, Urbino, Argalìa, 1976. Google Libri Piergiorgio Donatelli, «GUZZO, Augusto» in Dizionario Biografico degli Italiani, Volume 61, Roma, Istituto dell'Enciclopedia Italiana, 2004. Giletta Giovanni, Filosofia hegeliana e religione. Osservazioni su Sebastiano Maturi, Ed.Natan, Benevento, . Altri progetti Collabora a Wikisource Wikisource contiene una pagina dedicata a Augusto Guzzo  Augusto Guzzo, su Treccani.itEnciclopedie on line, Istituto dell'Enciclopedia Italiana.  Augusto Guzzo / Augusto Guzzo (altra versione), in Enciclopedia Italiana, Istituto dell'Enciclopedia Italiana.  Augusto Guzzo, in Dizionario biografico degli italiani, Istituto dell'Enciclopedia Italiana.  Augusto Guzzo, su BeWeb, Conferenza Episcopale Italiana.  Opere di Augusto Guzzo, su openMLOL, Horizons Unlimited srl. Opere di Augusto Guzzo, .  Filosofia, Rivista annuale fondata nel 1950 da Augusto Guzzo. 14 febbraio.

 

habitus: hexis Grecian, from hexo, ‘to have’, ‘to be disposed’, a good or bad condition, disposition, or state. The traditional rendering, ‘habit’ Latin habitus, is misleading, for it tends to suggest the idea of an involuntary and merely repetitious pattern of behavior. A hexis is rather a state of character or of mind that disposes us to deliberately choose to act or to think in a certain way. The term acquired a quasi-technical status after Aristotle advanced the view that hexis is the genus of virtue, both moral and intellectual. In the Nicomachean Ethics he distinguishes hexeis from passions pathe and faculties dunamis of the soul. If a man fighting in the front ranks feels afraid when he sees the enemy approaching, he is undergoing an involuntary passion. His capacity to be affected by fear on this or other occasions is part of his makeup, one of his faculties. If he chooses to stay where his commanders placed him, this is due to the hexis or state of character we call courage. Likewise, one who is consistently good at identifying what is best for oneself can be said to possess a hexis called prudence. Not all states and dispositions are commendable. Cowardice and stupidity are also hexeis. Both in the sense of ‘state’ and of ‘possession’ hexis plays a role in Aristotle’s Categories. 

 

Halesianism: from Alexander of Halesowen, Salop (on the border with Worcs.).. Grice called William of Occam “Occam,” William of Sherwood, “Shyrewood,” and Alexander of Hales “Hales,”why, I wish people would call me “Harborne,” and not Grice!”Grice. English Franciscan theologian, known as the Doctor Irrefragabilis. The first to teach theology by lecturing on the Sentences of Peter Lombard, Alexander’s emphasis on speculative theology initiated the golden age of Scholasticism. Alexander wrote commentaries on the Psalms and the Gospels; his chief works include his Glossa in quattuor libros sententiarum, Quaestiones disputatatae antequam esset frater, and Quaestiones quodlibetales. Alexander did not complete the Summa fratris Alexandri; Pope Alexander IV ordered the Franciscans to complete the Summa Halesiana in 1255. Master of theology in 1222, Alexander played an important role in the history of Paris, writing parts of Gregory IX’s Parens scientiarum 1231. He also helped negotiate the peace between England and France. He gave up his position as canon of Lichfield and archdeacon of Coventry to become a Franciscan, the first Franciscan master of theology; his was the original Franciscan chair of theology at Paris. Among the Franciscans, his most prominent disciples include St. Bonaventure, Richard Rufus of Cornwall, and John of La Rochelle, to whom he resigned his chair in theology near the end of his life. Hales wrote commentaries on Aristotle’s metaphysics, on the multiplicity of being, that Grice found fascinating. Vide “Summa halensis.”

 

hampshireism: His second wife was from the New World. His first wife wasn’t. He married Renée Orde-Lees, the daughter of the very English Thomas Orde-Lees, in 1961, and had two children, a son, Julian, and a daughter. To add to the philosophers’ mistakes. There’s Austin (in “Plea for Excuses” and “Other Minds”), Strawson (in “Truth” and “Introduction to Logical Theory,” and “On referring”), Hart (in conversation, on ‘carefully,”), Hare (“To say ‘x is good’ is to recommend x”) and Hampshire (“Intention and certainty”). For Grice, the certainty is merely implicated and on occasion, only.  Cited by Grice as a member of the play group. Hampshire would dine once a week with Grice. He would discuss and find very amusing to discuss with Grice on post-war Oxford philosophy. Unlike Grice, Hampshire attended Austin’s Thursday evening meetings at All Souls. Grice wrote “Intention and uncertainty” in part as a response to Hampshire and Hart, Intention and certainty. But Grice brought the issue back to an earlier generation, to a polemic between Stout (who held a certainty-based view) and Prichard.

 

hareism r. m. cited by H. P. Grice, “Hare’s neustrics”. b.9, English philosopher who is one of the most influential moral philosophers of the twentieth century and the developer of prescriptivism in metaethics. Hare was educated at Rugby and Oxford, then served in the British army during World War II and spent years as a prisoner of war in Burma. In 7 he took a position at Balliol  and was appointed White’s Professor of Moral Philosophy at the  of Oxford in 6. On retirement from Oxford, he became Graduate Research Professor at the  of Florida 393. His major books are Language of Morals 3, Freedom and Reason 3, Moral Thinking 1, and Sorting Out Ethics 7. Many collections of his essays have also appeared, and a collection of other leading philosophers’ articles on his work was published in 8 Hare and Critics, eds. Seanor and Fotion. According to Hare, a careful exploration of the nature of our moral concepts reveals that nonironic judgments about what one morally ought to do are expressions of the will, or commitments to act, that are subject to certain logical constraints. Because moral judgments are prescriptive, we cannot sincerely subscribe to them while refusing to comply with them in the relevant circumstances. Because moral judgments are universal prescriptions, we cannot sincerely subscribe to them unless we are willing for them to be followed were we in other people’s positions with their preferences. Hare later contended that vividly to imagine ourselves completely in other people’s positions involves our acquiring preferences about what should happen to us in those positions that mirror exactly what those people now want for themselves. So, ideally, we decide on a universal prescription on the basis of not only our existing preferences about the actual situation but also the new preferences we would have if we were wholly in other people’s positions. What we can prescribe universally is what maximizes net satisfaction of this amalgamated set of preferences. Hence, Hare concluded that his theory of moral judgment leads to preference-satisfaction act utilitarianism. However, like most other utilitarians, he argued that the best way to maximize utility is to have, and generally to act on, certain not directly utilitarian dispositions  such as dispositions not to hurt others or steal, to keep promises and tell the truth, to take special responsibility for one’s own family, and so on.  Then there’s Hare’s phrastic: It is convenient to take Grice mocking Hare in Prolegomena. “To say ‘x is good’ is to recommend x.’ An implicaturum: annullable:  “x is good but I don’t recommend it.” Hare was well aware of the implicaturum. Loving Grice’s account of ‘or,’ Hare gives the example: “Post the letter: therefore; post the letter or burn it.” Grice mainly quotes Hare’s duet, the phrastic and the neustic, and spends some time exploring what the phrastic actually is. He seems to prefer ‘radix.’ But then Hare also has then the ‘neustic,’ that Grice is not so concerned with since he has his own terminology for it. And for Urmson’s festschrift, Hare comes up with the tropic and the clistic. So each has a Griceian correlate.  Then there’s Hareian supervenience: a dependence relation between properties or facts of one type, and properties or facts of another type. In the other place, G. E. Moore, for instance, holds that the property intrinsic value is dependent in the relevant way on certain non-moral properties. Moore did not employ the expression ‘supervenience’. As Moore puts it, “if a given thing possesses any kind of intrinsic value in a certain degree,  not only must that same thing possess it, under all circumstances, in the same degree, but also anything exactly like it, must, under all circumstances, possess it in exactly the same degree” (Philosophical Studies, 2). The concept of supervenience, as a relation between properties, is essentially this: A poperties of type A is supervenient (or better, as Grice prefesrs, supervenes) on a property of type B if and only if two objects cannot differ with respect to their A-properties without also differing with respect to their B-properties. Properties that allegedly are supervenient on others are often called consequential properties, especially in ethics; the idea is that if something instantiates a moral property, then it does so in virtue of, i.e., as a non-causal consequence of, instantiating some lower-level property on which the moral property supervenes. In another, related sense, supervenience is a feature of discourse of one type, vis-à-vis discourse of another type. ‘Supervenience’ is so used by Hare. “First, let us take that characteristic of “good” which has been called its ‘supervenience.’” Grice: “Hare has a good ear for the neologism: he loved my ‘implicature,’ and used in an essay he submitted to “Mind,” way before I ventured to publish the thing!”“Suppose that we say, “St. Francis is a good man.” It is logically impossible to say this and to maintain at the same time that there might have been another man placed exactly in the same circumstances as St. Francis, and who behaved in exactly the same way, but who differed from St. Francis in this respect only, that it is NOT the case that this man is a good man.” (“The Language of Morals”). Here the idea is that it would be a misuse of moral language, a violation of the “logic of moral discourse,” to apply ‘good’ to one thing but not to something else exactly similar in all pertinent non-moral respects. Hare is a meta-ethical irrealist. He denies that there are moral properties or facts. So for him, supervenience is a ‘category of expression,’ a feature of discourse and judgment, not a relation between properties or facts of two types. The notion of supervenience has come to be used quite widely in metaphysics and philosophical philosophy, usually in the way explained above. This use is heralded by Davidson in articulating a position about the relation between a physical property and a property of the ‘soul,’ or statet-ypes, that eschews the reducibility of mental properties to physical ones. “Although the position I describe denies there are psycho-physical laws, it is consistent with the view that mental characteristics are in some sense dependent, or supervenient, or plainly supervene on physical characteristics. Such supervenience might be taken to mean that there cannot be two events alike in all physical respects but differing in some mental respects, or that an object cannot alter in some mental respects without altering in some physical respects. Dependence or supervenience of this kind does not entail reducibility through law or definition. “Mental Events.” A variety of supervenience theses have been propounded in metaphysics and philosophical psychology, usually although not always in conjunction with attempts to formulate metaphysical positions that are naturalistic, in some way, without being strongly reductionistic, if reductive. E. g. it is often asserted that mental properties and facts are supervenient on neurobiological properties, and/or on physicochemical properties and facts. And it is often claimed, more generally, that all properties and facts are supervenient on the properties and facts of the kind described by physics. Much attention has been directed at how to formulate the desired supervenience theses, and thus how to characterize supervenience itself. A distinction has been drawn between weak supervenience, asserting that in any single possible world w, any two individuals in w that differ in their A-properties also differ in their B-properties; and strong supervenience, asserting that for any two individuals i and j, either within a single possible world or in two distinct ones, if i and j differ in A-properties then they also differ in Bproperties. It is sometimes alleged that traditional formulations of supervenience, like Moore’s or Hare’s, articulate only weak supervenience, whereas strong supervenience is needed to express the relevant kind of determination or dependence. It is sometimes replied, however, that the traditional natural-language formulations do in fact express strong supervenience  and that formalizations expressing mere weak supervenience are mistranslations. Questions about how best to formulate supervenience theses also arise in connection with intrinsic and non-intrinsic properties. For instance, the property being a bank, instantiated by the brick building on Main Street, is not supervenient on intrinsic physical properties of the building itself; rather, the building’s having this social-institutional property depends on a considerably broader range of facts and features, some of which are involved in subserving the social practice of banking. The term ‘supervenience base’ is frequently used to denote the range of entities and happenings whose lowerlevel properties and relations jointly underlie the instantiation of some higher-level property like being a bank by some individual like the brick building on Main Street. Supervenience theses are sometimes formulated so as to smoothly accommodate properties and facts with broad supervenience bases. For instance, the idea that the physical facts determine all the facts is sometimes expressed as global supervenience, which asserts that any two physically possible worlds differing in some respect also differ in some physical respect. Or, sometimes this idea is expressed as the stronger thesis of regional supervenience, which asserts that for any two spatiotemporal regions r and s, either within a single physically possible world or in two distinct ones, if r and s differ in some intrinsic respect then they also differ in some intrinsic physical respect. H. P. Grice, “Hare on supervenience.” H. P. Grice, “Supervenience in my method in philosophical psychology: from the banal to the bizarre.” H. P. Grice, “Supervenience and the devil of scientism.”

 

Harrisianism: philosopher of languageclassical. Grice adored him, and he was quite happy that few knew about Harris! Cf. Tooke. Cf. Priestley and Hartleyall pre-Griceian philosohers of language that are somehow outside the canon, when they shouldn’t. They are very Old World, and it’s the influence of the New World that has made them sort of disappear! That’s what Grice said!

 

Hartianism: h. l. a.cited by Grice, “Hare on ‘carefully.’ Philosopher of European ancestry born in Yorkshire, principally responsible for the revival of legal and political philosophy after World War II. After wartime work with military intelligence, Hart gave up a flourishing law practice to join the Oxford faculty, where he was a brilliant lecturer, a sympathetic and insightful critic, and a generous mentor to many scholars. Like the earlier “legal positivists” Bentham and John Austin, Hart accepted the “separation of law and morals”: moral standards can deliberately be incorporated in law, but there is no automatic or necessary connection between law and sound moral principles. In The Concept of Law 1 he critiqued the Bentham-Austin notion that laws are orders backed by threats from a political community’s “sovereign”  some person or persons who enjoy habitual obedience and are habitually obedient to no other human  and developed the more complex idea that law is a “union of primary and secondary rules.” Hart agreed that a legal system must contain some “obligation-imposing” “primary” rules, restricting freedom. But he showed that law also includes independent “power-conferring” rules that facilitate choice, and he demonstrated that a legal system requires “secondary” rules that create public offices and authorize official action, such as legislation and adjudication, as well as “rules of recognition” that determine which other rules are valid in the system. Hart held that rules of law are “open-textured,” with a core of determinate meaning and a fringe of indeterminate meaning, and thus capable of answering some but not all legal questions that can arise. He doubted courts’ claims to discover law’s meaning when reasonable competing interpretations are available, and held that courts decide such “hard cases” by first performing the important “legislative” function of filling gaps in the law. Hart’s first book was an influential study with A. M. Honoré of Causation in the Law 9. His inaugural lecture as Professor of Jurisprudence, “Definition and Theory in Jurisprudence” 3, initiated a career-long study of rights, reflected also in Essays on Bentham: Studies in Jurisprudence and Political Theory 2 and in Essays in Jurisprudence and Philosophy 3. He defended liberal public policies. In Law, Liberty and Morality 3 he refuted Lord Devlin’s contention that a society justifiably enforces the code of its moral majority, whatever it might be. In The Morality of the Criminal Law 5 and in Punishment and Responsibility 8, Hart contributed substantially to both analytic and normative theories of crime and punishment.

 

Hartleyianism: British philosopher. Although the notion of association of ideas is ancient, he is generally regarded as the founder of associationism as a self-sufficient psychology. Despite similarities between his association psychology and Hume’s, Hartley developed his system independently, acknowledging only the writings of clergyman John Gay 1699 1745. Hartley was one of many Enlightenment thinkers aspiring to be “Newtons of the mind,” in Peter Gay’s phrase. In Hartley, this took the form of uniting association philosophy with physiology, a project later brought to fruition by Bain. His major work, Observations on Man 1749, pictured mental events and neural events as operating on parallel tracks in which neural events cause mental events. On the mental side, Hartley distinguished like Hume between sensation and idea. On the physiological side, Hartley adopted Newton’s conception of nervous transmission by vibrations of a fine granular substance within nerve-tubes. Vibrations within sensory nerves peripheral to the brain corresponded to the sensations they caused, while small vibrations in the brain, vibratiuncles, corresponded to ideas. Hartley proposed a single law of association, contiguity modified by frequency, which took two forms, one for the mental side and one for the neural: ideas, or vibratiuncles, occurring together regularly become associated. Hartley distinguished between simultaneous association, the link between ideas that occur at the same harmony, preestablished Hartley, David 362    AM  362 moment, and successive association, between ideas that closely succeed one another. Successive associations occur only in a forward direction; there are no backward associations, a thesis generating much controversy in the later experimental study of memory. Hartleyianism: Josephphilosopher. Hartmann: philosopher who sought to synthesize the thought of Schelling, Hegel, and Schopenhauer. The most important of his essays is “Philosophie des Unbewussten.” For Hartmann both will and idea are interrelated and are expressions of an absolute “thing-in-itself,” the unconscious. The unconscious is the active essence in natural and psychic processes and is the teleological dynamic in organic life. Paradoxically, he claimed that the teleology immanent in the world order and the life process leads to insight into the irrationality of the “will-to-live.” The maturation of rational consciousness would, he held, lead to the negation of the total volitional process and the entire world process would cease. Ideas indicate the “what” of existence and constitute, along with will and the unconscious, the three modes of being. Despite its pessimism, this work enjoyed considerable popularity. Hartmann was an unusual combination of speculative idealist and philosopher of science defending vitalism and attacking mechanistic materialism; his pessimistic ethics was part of a cosmic drama of redemption. Some of his later works dealt with a critical form of Darwinism that led him to adopt a positive evolutionary stance that undermined his earlier pessimism. His general philosophical position was selfdescribed as “transcendental realism.” His Philosophy of the Unconscious was tr. into English by W. C. Coupland in three volumes in 4. There is little doubt that his metaphysics of the unconscious prepared the way for Freud’s later theory of the unconscious mind. 

 

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

 

Heno-theism, allegiance to one supreme deity while conceding existence to others; also described as monolatry, incipient monotheism, or practical monotheism. It occupies a middle ground between polytheism and radical monotheism, which denies reality to all gods save one. It has been claimed that early Judaism passed through a henotheistic phase, acknowledging other Middle Eastern deities albeit condemning their worship, en route to exclusive recognition of Yahweh. But the concept of progress from polytheism through henotheism to monotheism is a rationalizing construct, and cannot be supposed to capture the complex development of any historical religion, including that of ancient Israel.

 

hermetism, also hermeticism, a philosophical theology whose basic impulse was the gnostic conviction that human salvation depends on revealed knowledge gnosis of God and of the human and natural creations. Texts ascribed to Hermes Trismegistus, a Greco-Egyptian version of the Egyptian god Thoth, may have appeared as early as the fourth century B.C., but the surviving Corpus Hermeticum in Grecian and Latin is a product of the second and third centuries A.D. Fragments of the same literature exist in Grecian, Armenian, and Coptic as well; the Coptic versions are part of a discovery made at Nag Hammadi after World War II. All these Hermetica record hermetism as just described. Other Hermetica traceable to the same period but surviving in later Arabic or Latin versions deal with astrology, alchemy, magic, and other kinds of occultism. Lactantius, Augustine, and other early Christians cited Hermes but disagreed on his value; before Iamblichus, pagan philosophers showed little interest. Muslims connected Hermes with a Koranic figure, Idris, and thereby enlarged the medieval hermetic tradition, which had its first large effects in the Latin West among the twelfth-century Platonists of Chartres. The only ancient hermetic text then available in the West was the Latin Asclepius, but in 1463 Ficino interrupted his epochal translation of Plato to Latinize fourteen of the seventeen Grecian discourses in the main body of the Corpus Hermeticum as distinct from the many Grecian fragments preserved by Stobaeus but unknown to Ficino. Ficino was willing to move so quickly to Hermes because he believed that this Egyptian deity stood at the head of the “ancient theology” prisca theologia, a tradition of pagan revelation that ran parallel to Christian scripture, culminated with Plato, and continued through Plotinus and the later Neoplatonists. Ficino’s Hermes translation, which he called the Pimander, shows no interest in the magic and astrology about which he theorized later in his career. Trinitarian theology was his original motivation. The Pimander was enormously influential in the later Renaissance, when Giovanni Pico della Mirandola, Lodovico Lazzarelli, Jacques Lefèvre d’Etaples, Symphorien Champier, Francesco Giorgi, Agostino Steuco, Francesco Patrizi, and others enriched Western appreciation of Hermes. The first printed Grecian Hermetica was the 1554 edition of Adrien Turnebus. The last before the nineteenth century appeared in 1630, a textual hiatus that reflected a decline in the reputation of Hermes after Isaac Casaubon proved philologically in 1614 that the Grecian Hermetica had to be post-Christian, not the remains of primeval Egyptian wisdom. After Casaubon, hermetic ideas fell out of fashion with most Western philosophers of the current canon, but the historiography of the ancient theology remained influential for Newton and for lesser figures even later. The content of the Hermetica was out of tune with the new science, so Casaubon’s redating left Hermes to the theosophical heirs of Robert Fludd, whose opponents Kepler, Mersenne, Gassendi turned away from the Hermetica and similar fascinations of Renaissance humanist culture. By the nineteenth century, only theosophists took Hermes seriously as a prophet of pagan wisdom, but he was then rediscovered by G. students of Christianity and Hellenistic religions, especially Richard Reitzenstein, who published his Poimandres in 4. The ancient Hermetica are now read in the 654 edition of A. D. Nock and A. J. Festugière. 

 

heuristics, a rule or solution adopted to reduce the complexity of computational tasks, thereby reducing demands on resources such as time, memory, and attention. If an algorithm is a procedure yielding a correct solution to a problem, then a heuristic procedure may not reach a solution even if there is one, or may provide an incorrect answer. The reliability of heuristics varies between domains; the resulting biases are predictable, and provide information about system design. Chess, for example, is a finite game with a finite number of possible positions, but there is no known algorithm for finding the optimal move. Computers and humans both employ heuristics in evaluating intermediate moves, relying on a few significant cues to game quality, such as safety of the king, material balance, and center control. The use of these criteria simplifies the problem, making it computationally tractable. They are heuristic guides, reliable but limited in success. There is no guarantee that the result will be the best move or even good. They are nonetheless satisfactory for competent chess. Work on human judgment indicates a similar moral. Examples of judgmental infelicities support the view that human reasoning systematically violates standards for statistical reasoning, ignoring base rates, sample size, and correlations. Experimental results suggest that humans utilize judgmental heuristics in gauging probabilities, such as representativeness, or the degree to which an individual or event resembles a prototypical member of a category. Such heuristics produce reasonable judgments in many cases, but are of limited validity when measured by a Bayesian standard. Judgmental heuristics are biased and subject to systemic errors. Experimental support for the importance of these heuristics depends on cases in which subjects deviate from the normative standard. 

 

hierarchy, a division of mathematical objects into subclasses in accordance with an ordering that reflects their complexity. Around the turn of the century, analysts interested in the “descriptive set theory” of the real numbers defined and studied two systems of classification for sets of reals, the Borel (due to Emil Borel) and the G hierarchies. In the 1940s, logicians interested in recursion and definability (most importantly, Stephen Kleene) introduced and studied other hierarchies (the arithmetic, the hyperarithmetic, and the analytical hierarchies) of reals (identified with sets of natural numbers) and of sets of reals; the relations between this work and the earlier work were made explicit in the 1950s by J. Addison. Other sorts of hierarchies have been introduced in other corners of logic. All these so-called hierarchies have at least this in common: they divide a class of mathematical objects into subclasses subject to a natural well-founded ordering (e.g., by subsethood) that reflects the complexity (in a sense specific to the hierarchy under consideration) of the objects they contain. What follows describes several hierarchies from the study of definability. (For more historical and mathematical information see Descriptive Set Theory by Y. Moschovakis, North-Holland Publishing Co., 1980.) (1) Hierarchies of formulas. Consider a formal language L with quantifiers ‘E’ and ‘D’. Given a set B of formulas in L, we inductively define a hierarchy that treats the members of B as “basic.” Set P0 % S0 % B. Suppose sets Pn and Sn of formulas have been defined. Let Pn!1 % the set of all formulas of the form Q1u1 . . . Qmumw when u1, . . . , um are distinct variables, Q1, . . . , Qm are all ‘E’, m M 1, and w 1 Sn. Let Sn+1 % the set of all formulas of that form for Q1, . . . , Qm all ‘D’, and w 1 Pn. Here are two such hierarchies for languages of arithmetic. Take the logical constants to be truthfunctions, ‘E’ and ‘D’. (i) Let L0 % the first-order language of arithmetic, based on ‘%’, a two-place predicate-constant ‘‹’, an individual-constant for 0, functionconstants for successor, addition, and multiplication; ‘first-order’ means that bound variables are all first-order (ranging over individuals); we’ll allow free second-order variables (ranging over properties or sets of individuals). Let B % the set of bounded formulas, i.e. those formed from atomic formulas using connectives and bounded quantification: if w is bounded so are Eu(u ‹ t / w) and Du(u ‹ t & w). (ii) Let L1 % the second-order language of arithmetic (formed from L0 by allowing bound second-order variables); let B % the set of formulas in which no second-order variable is bound, and take all u1, . . . , um as above to be second-order variables. (2) Hierarchies of definable sets. (i) The Arithmetic Hierarchy. For a set of natural numbers (call such a thing ‘a real’) A : A 1 P0 n [ or S0 n ] if and only if A is defined over the standard model of arithmetic (i.e., with the constant for 0 assigned to 0, etc., and with the first-order variables ranging over the natural numbers) by a formula of L0 in Pn [respectively Sn] as described in (1.i). Set D0 n % P0 n Thus: In fact, all these inclusions are proper. This hierarchy classifies the reals simple enough to be defined by arithmetic formulas. Example: ‘Dy x % y ! y’ defines the set even of even natural numbers; the formula 1 S1, so even 1 S0 1; even is also defined by a formula in P1; so even 1 P0 1, giving even 1 D0 1. In fact, S0 1 % the class of recursively enumerable reals, and D0 1 % the class of recursive reals. The classification of reals under the arithmetic hierarchy reflects complexity of defining formulas; it differs from classification in terms of a notion of degree of unsolvability, that reflecting a notion of comparative computational complexity; but there are connections between these classifications. The Arithmetic Hierarchy extends to sets of reals (using a free second-order variable in defining sentences). Example: ‘Dx (Xx & Dy y % x ! x)’ 1 S1 and defines the set of those reals with an even number; so that set 1 S0 1.The Analytical Hierarchy. Given a real A : A 1 P1 n [S1 1] if and only if A is defined (over the standard model of arithmetic with second-order variables ranging over all sets of natural numbers) by a formula of L1 in Pn (respectively Sn) as described in (1.ii); D1 n % P1 n 3 S1 n. Similarly for a set of reals. The inclusions pictured above carry over, replacing superscripted 0’s by 1’s. This classifies all reals and sets of reals simple enough to have analytical (i.e., second-order arithmetic) definitions.The subscripted ‘n’ in ‘P0 n’, etc., ranged over natural numbers. But the Arithmetic Hierarchy is extended “upward” into the transfinite by the ramified-analytical hierarchy. Let R0 % the class of all arithmetical reals. For an ordinal a let Ra!1 % the class of all sets of reals definable by formulas of L1 in which second-order variables range only over reals in Rathis constraint imposes ramification. For a limit-ordinal l, let Rl % UaThe above hierarchies arise in arithmetic. Similar hierarchies arise in pure set theory; e.g. by transferring the “process” that produced the ramified analytical hierarchy to pure set theory we obtain the constructible hierarchy, defined by Gödel in his 1939 monograph on the continuum hypothesis.

 

Historia -- historicism, the doctrine that knowledge of human affairs has an irreducibly historical character and that there can be no ahistorical perspective for an understanding of human nature and society. What is needed instead is a philosophical explication of historical knowledge that will yield the rationale for all sound knowledge of human activities. So construed, historicism is a philosophical doctrine originating in the methodological and epistemological presuppositions of critical historiography. In the mid-nineteenth century certain German thinkers (Dilthey most centrally), reacting against positivist ideals of science and knowledge, rejected scientistic models of knowledge, replacing them with historical ones. They applied this not only to the discipline of history but to economics, law, political theory, and large areas of philosophy. Initially concerned with methodological issues in particular disciplines, historicism, as it developed, sought to work out a common philosophical doctrine that would inform all these disciplines. What is essential to achieve knowledge in the human sciences is to employ the ways of understanding used in historical studies. There should in the human sciences be no search for natural laws; knowledge there will be interpretive and rooted in concrete historical occurrences. As such it will be inescapably perspectival and contextual (contextualism). This raises the issue of whether historicism is a form of historical relativism. Historicism appears to be committed to the thesis that what for a given people is warrantedly assertible is determined by the distinctive historical perspective in which they view life and society. The stress on uniqueness and concrete specificity and the rejection of any appeal to universal laws of human development reinforce that. But the emphasis on cumulative development into larger contexts of our historical knowledge puts in doubt an identification of historicism and historical relativism. The above account of historicism is that of its main proponents: Meinecke, Croce, Collingwood, Ortega y Gasset, and Mannheim. But in the twentieth century, with Popper and Hayek, a very different conception of historicism gained some currency. For them, to be a historicist is to believe that there are “historical laws,” indeed even a “law of historical development,” such that history has a pattern and even an end, that it is the central task of social science to discover it, and that these laws should determine the direction of political action and social policy. They attributed (incorrectly) this doctrine to Marx but rightly denounced it as pseudo-science. However, some later Marxists (Lukács, Korsch, and Gramsci) were historicists in the original nonPopperian sense as was the critical theorist Adorno and hermeneuticists such as Gadamer.

 

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

 

hobbesian implicatura -- hobbes: “Hobbes is a Griceian”Grice. Grice was a member of the Hobbes Society -- Thomas. English philosopher whose writings, especially the English version of Leviathan (1651), strongly influenced all of subsequent English moral and political philosophy. He also wrote a trilogy comprising De Cive (1642; English version, Philosophical Rudiments Concerning Government and Society, 1651), De Corpore (On the Body, 1655), and De Homine (On Man, 1658). Together with Leviathan (the revised Latin version of which was published in 1668), these are his major philosophical works. However, an early draft of his thoughts, The Elements of Law, Natural and Political(also known as Human Nature and De Corpore Politico), was published without permission in 1650. Many of the misinterpretations of Hobbes’s views on human nature come from mistaking this early work as representing his mature views. Hobbes was influential not only in England, but also on the Continent. He is the author of the third set of objections to Descartes’s Meditations. Spinoza’s Tractatus Theologico-politicus was deeply influenced by Hobbes, not only in its political views but also in the way it dealt with Scripture. Hobbes was not merely a philosopher; he was mathematical tutor to Charles II and also a classical scholar. His first published work was a translation of Thucydides (1628), and among his latest, about a half-century later, were translations of Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey. Hobbes’s philosophical views have a remarkably contemporary sound. In metaphysics, he holds a strong materialist view, sometimes viewing mental phenomena as epiphenomenal, but later moving toward a reductive or eliminative view. In epistemology he held a sophisticated empiricism, which emphasized the importance of language for knowledge. If not the originator of the contemporary compatibilist view of the relationship between free will and determinism (see The Questions Concerning Liberty, Necessity and Chance, 1656), he was one of the primary influences. He also was one of the most important philosophers of language, explicitly noting that language is used not only to describe the world but to express attitudes and, performatively, to make promises and contracts. One of Hobbes’s outstanding characteristics is his intellectual honesty. Though he may have been timid (he himself claims that he was, explaining that his mother gave birth to him because of fright over the coming of the Spanish Armada), his writing shows no trace of it. During more than half his long lifetime he engaged in many philosophical controversies, which required considerably more courage in Hobbes’s day than at present. Both the Roman Catholic church and Oxford University banned the reading of his books and there was talk not only of burning his books but of burning Hobbes himself. An adequate interpretation of Hobbes requires careful attention to his accounts of human nature, reason, morality, and law. Although he was not completely consistent, his moral and political philosophy is remarkably coherent. His political theory is often thought to require an egoistic psychology, whereas it actually requires only that most persons be concerned with their own self-interest, especially their own preservation. It does not require that most not be concerned with other persons as well. All that Hobbes denies is an undifferentiated natural benevolence: “For if by nature one man should love another (that is) as man, there could no reason be returned why every man should not equally love every man, as being equally man.” His argument is that limited benevolence is not an adequate foundation upon which to build a state. Hobbes’s political theory does not require the denial of limited benevolence, he indeed includes benevolence in his list of the passions in Leviathan: “Desire of good to another, BENEVOLENCE, GOOD WILL, CHARITY. If to man generally, GOOD NATURE.” Psychological egoism not only denies benevolent action, it also denies action done from a moral sense, i.e., action done because one believes it is the morally right thing to do. But Hobbes denies neither kind of action. But when the words [’just’ and ‘unjust’] are applied to persons, to be just signifies as much as to be delighted in just dealing, to study how to do righteousness, or to endeavor in all things to do that which is just; and to be unjust is to neglect righteous dealing, or to think it is to be measured not according to my contract, but some present benefit. Hobbes’s pessimism about the number of just people is primarily due to his awareness of the strength of the passions and his conviction that most people have not been properly educated and disciplined. Hobbes is one of the few philosophers to realize that to talk of that part of human nature which involves the passions is to talk about human populations. He says, “though the wicked were fewer than the righteous, yet because we cannot distinguish them, there is a necessity of suspecting, heeding, anticipating, subjugating, self-defending, ever incident to the most honest and fairest conditioned.” Though we may be aware of small communities in which mutual trust and respect make law enforcement unnecessary, this is never the case when we are dealing with a large group of people. Hobbes’s point is that if a large group of people are to live together, there must be a common power set up to enforce the rules of the society. That there is not now, nor has there ever been, any large group of people living together without such a common power is sufficient to establish his point. Often overlooked is Hobbes’s distinction between people considered as if they were simply animals, not modified in any way by education or discipline, and civilized people. Though obviously an abstraction, people as animals are fairly well exemplified by children. “Unless you give children all they ask for, they are peevish, and cry, aye and strike their parents sometimes; and all this they have from nature.” In the state of nature, people have no education or training, so there is “continual fear, and danger of violent death, and the life of man, [is] solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.” But real people have been brought up in families; they are, at least to some degree, civilized persons, and how they will behave depends on how they are brought up. Hobbes does not say that society is a collection of misfits and that this is why we have all the trouble that we doa position congenial to the psychological egoist. But he does acknowledge that “many also (perhaps most men) either through defect of mind, or want of education, remain unfit during the whole course of their lives; yet have they, infants as well as those of riper years, a human nature; wherefore man is made fit for society not by nature, but by education.” Education and training may change people so that they act out of genuine moral motives. That is why it is one of the most important functions of the sovereign to provide for the proper training and education of the citizens. In the current debate between nature and nurture, on the question of behavior Hobbes would come down strongly on the side of nurture. Hobbes’s concept of reason has more in common with the classical philosophical tradition stemming from Plato and Aristotle, where reason sets the ends of behavior, than with the modern tradition stemming from Hume where the only function of reason is to discover the best means to ends set by the passions. For Hobbes, reason is very complex; it has a goal, lasting selfpreservation, and it seeks the way to this goal. It also discovers the means to ends set by the passions, but it governs the passions, or tries to, so that its own goal is not threatened. Since its goal is the same in all people, it is the source of rules applying to all people. All of this is surprisingly close to the generally accepted account of rationality. We generally agree that those who follow their passions when they threaten their life are acting irrationally. We also believe that everyone always ought to act rationally, though we know that few always do so. Perhaps it was just the closeness of Hobbes’s account of reason to the ordinary view of the matter that has led to its being so completely overlooked. The failure to recognize that the avoidance of violent death is the primary goal of reason has distorted almost all accounts of Hobbes’s moral and political philosophy, yet it is a point on which Hobbes is completely clear and consistent. He explicitly says that reason “teaches every man to fly a contra-natural dissolution [mortem violentam] as the greatest mischief that can arrive to nature.” He continually points out that it is a dictate of right reason to seek peace when possible because people cannot “expect any lasting preservation continuing thus in the state of nature, that is, of war.” And he calls temperance and fortitude precepts of reason because they tend to one’s preservation. It has not generally been recognized that Hobbes regarded it as an end of reason to avoid violent death because he often talks of the avoidance of death in a way that makes it seem merely an object of a passion. But it is reason that dictates that one take all those measures necessary for one’s preservation; peace if possible, if not, defense. Reason’s dictates are categorical; it would be a travesty of Hobbes’s view to regard the dictates of reason as hypothetical judgments addressed to those whose desire for their own preservation happens to be greater than any conflicting desire. He explicitly deplores the power of the irrational appetites and expressly declares that it is a dictate of reason that one not scorn others because “most men would rather lose their lives (that I say not, their peace) than suffer slander.” He does not say if you would rather die than suffer slander, it is rational to do so. Hobbes, following Aristotle, regards morality as concerned with character traits or habits. Since morality is objective, it is only those habits that are called good by reason that are moral virtues. “Reason declaring peace to be good, it follows by the same reason, that all the necessary means to peace be good also; and therefore that modesty, equity, trust, humanity, mercy (which we have demonstrated to be necessary to peace), are good manners or habits, that is, virtues.” Moral virtues are those habits of acting that the reason of all people must praise. It is interesting to note that it is only in De Homine that Hobbes explicitly acknowledges that on this account, prudence, temperance, and courage are not moral virtues. In De Cive he distinguishes temperance and fortitude from the other virtues and does not call them moral, but he does not explicitly deny that they are moral virtues. But in De Homine, he explicitly points out that one should not “demand that the courage and prudence of the private man, if useful only to himself, be praised or held as a virtue by states or by any other men whatsoever to whom these same are not useful.” That morality is determined by reason and that reason has as its goal self-preservation seems to lead to the conclusion that morality also has as its goal self-preservation. But it is not the selfpreservation of an individual person that is the goal of morality, but of people as citizens of a state. That is, moral virtues are those habits of persons that make it rational for all other people to praise them. These habits are not those that merely lead to an individual’s own preservation, but to the preservation of all; i.e., to peace and a stable society. Thus, “Good dispositions are those that are suitable for entering into civil society; and good manners (that is, moral virtues) are those whereby what was entered upon can be best preserved.” And in De Cive, when talking of morality, he says, “The goodness of actions consist[s] in this, that it [is] in order to peace, and the evil in this, that it [is] related to discord.” The nature of morality is a complex and vexing question. If, like Hobbes, we regard morality as applying primarily to those manners or habits that lead to peace, then his view seems satisfactory. It yields, as he notes, all of the moral virtues that are ordinarily considered such, and further, it allows one to distinguish courage, prudence, and temperance from the moral virtues. Perhaps most important, it provides, in almost self-evident fashion, the justification of morality. For what is it to justify morality but to show that reason favors it? Reason, seeking self-preservation, must favor morality, which seeks peace and a stable society. For reason knows that peace and a stable society are essential for lasting preservation. This simple and elegant justification of morality does not reduce morality to prudence; rather it is an attempt, in a great philosophical tradition stemming from Plato, to reconcile reason or rational self-interest and morality. In the state of nature every person is and ought to be governed only by their own reason. Reason dictates that they seek peace, which yields the laws of nature, but it also allows them to use any means they believe will best preserve themselves, which is what Hobbes calls The Right of Nature. Hobbes’s insight is to see that, except when one is in clear and present danger, in which case one has an inalienable right to defend oneself, the best way to guarantee one’s longterm preservation is to give up one’s right to act on one’s own decisions about what is the best way to guarantee one’s long-term preservation and agree to act on the decisions of that single person or group who is the sovereign. If all individuals and groups are allowed to act on the decisions they regard as best, not accepting the commands of the sovereign, i.e., the laws, as the overriding guide for their actions, the result is anarchy and civil war. Except in rare and unusual cases, uniformity of action following the decision of the sovereign is more likely to lead to long-term preservation than diverse actions following diverse decisions. And this is true even if each one of the diverse decisions, if accepted by the sovereign as its decision, would have been more likely to lead to long-term preservation than the actual decision that the sovereign made. This argument explains why Hobbes holds that sovereigns cannot commit injustice. Only injustice can properly be punished. Hobbes does not deny that sovereigns can be immoral, but he does deny that the immorality of sovereigns can properly be punished. This is important, for otherwise any immoral act by the sovereign would serve as a pretext for punishing the sovereign, i.e., for civil war. What is just and unjust is determined by the laws of the state, what is moral and immoral is not. Morality is a wider concept than that of justice and is determined by what leads to peace and stability. However, to let justice be determined by what the reason of the people takes to lead to peace and stability, rather than by what the reason of the sovereign decides, would be to invite discord and civil war, which is contrary to the goal of morality: a stable society and peace. One can create an air of paradox by saying that for Hobbes it is immoral to attempt to punish some immoral acts, namely, those of the sovereign. Hobbes is willing to accept this seeming paradox for he never loses sight of the goal of morality, which is peace. To summarize Hobbes’s system: people, insofar as they are rational, want to live out their natural lives in peace and security. To do this, they must come together into cities or states of sufficient size to deter attack by any group. But when people come together in such a large group there will always be some that cannot be trusted, and thus it is necessary to set up a government with the power to make and enforce laws. This government, which gets both its right to govern and its power to do so from the consent of the governed, has as its primary duty the people’s safety. As long as the government provides this safety the citizens are obliged to obey the laws of the state in all things. Thus, the rationality of seeking lasting preservation requires seeking peace; this in turn requires setting up a state with sufficient power to keep the peace. Anything that threatens the stability of the state is to be avoided. As a practical matter, Hobbes took God and religion very seriously, for he thought they provided some of the strongest motives for action. Half of Leviathan is devoted to trying to show that his moral and political views are supported by Scripture, and to discredit those religious views that may lead to civil strife. But accepting the sincerity of Hobbes’s religious views does not require holding that Hobbes regarded God as the foundation of morality. He explicitly denies that atheists and deists are subject to the commands of God, but he never denies that they are subject to the laws of nature or of the civil state. Once one recognizes that, for Hobbes, reason itself provides a guide to conduct to be followed by all people, there is absolutely no need to bring in God. For in his moral and political theory there is nothing that God can do that is not already done by reason. Grice read most of Hobbes, both in Latin (for his Lit. Hum.) and in English. When in “Meaning,” Grice says “this is what people are getting at with their natural versus artificial signs”he means Hobbes.

 

Hobson’s choice:  willkürHobson’s choice. One of Grice’s favourite words from Kant“It’s so Kantish!” I told Pears about this, and having found it’s cognate with English ‘choose,’ he immediately set to write an essay on the topic!” f., ‘option, discretion, caprice,’ from MidHG. willekür, f., ‘free choice, free will’; gee kiesen and Kur-kiesen, verb, ‘to select,’ from Middle High German kiesen, Old High German chiosan, ‘to test, try, taste for the purpose of testing, test by tasting, select after strict examination.’ Gothic kiusan, Anglo-Saxon ceósan, English to choose. Teutonic root kus (with the change of s into r, kur in the participle erkoren, see also Kur, ‘choice’), from pre-Teutonic gus, in Latin gus-tus, gus-tare, Greek γεύω for γεύσω, Indian root juš, ‘to select, be fond of.’ Teutonic kausjun passed as kusiti into Slavonic. There is an oil portrait of Thomas Hobson, in the National Portrait Gallery, London. He looks straight to the artist and is dressed in typical Tudor dress, with a heavy coat, a ruff, and tie tails Thomas Hobson, a portrait in the National Portrait Gallery, London. A Hobson's choice is a free choice in which only one thing is offered. Because a person may refuse to accept what is offered, the two options are taking it or taking nothing. In other words, one may "take it or leave it".  The phrase is said to have originated with Thomas Hobson (1544–1631), a livery stable owner in Cambridge, England, who offered customers the choice of either taking the horse in his stall nearest to the door or taking none at all. According to a plaque underneath a painting of Hobson donated to Cambridge Guildhall, Hobson had an extensive stable of some 40 horses. This gave the appearance to his customers that, upon entry, they would have their choice of mounts, when in fact there was only one: Hobson required his customers to choose the horse in the stall closest to the door. This was to prevent the best horses from always being chosen, which would have caused those horses to become overused. Hobson's stable was located on land that is now owned by St Catharine's College, Cambridge.  Early appearances in writing According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the first known written usage of this phrase is in The rustick's alarm to the Rabbies, written by Samuel Fisher in 1660:  If in this Case there be no other (as the Proverb is) then Hobson's choice...which is, chuse whether you will have this or none.  It also appears in Joseph Addison's paper The Spectator (No. 509 of 14 October 1712); and in Thomas Ward's 1688 poem "England's Reformation", not published until after Ward's death. Ward wrote:  Where to elect there is but one, 'Tis Hobson's choice—take that, or none. The term "Hobson's choice" is often used to mean an illusion of choice, but it is not a choice between two equivalent options, which is a Morton's fork, nor is it a choice between two undesirable options, which is a dilemma. Hobson's choice is one between something or nothing.  John Stuart Mill, in his book Considerations on Representative Government, refers to Hobson's choice:  When the individuals composing the majority would no longer be reduced to Hobson's choice, of either voting for the person brought forward by their local leaders, or not voting at all. In another of his books, The Subjection of Women, Mill discusses marriage:  Those who attempt to force women into marriage by closing all other doors against them, lay themselves open to a similar retort. If they mean what they say, their opinion must evidently be, that men do not render the married condition so desirable to women, as to induce them to accept it for its own recommendations. It is not a sign of one's thinking the boon one offers very attractive, when one allows only Hobson's choice, 'that or none'.... And if men are determined that the law of marriage shall be a law of despotism, they are quite right in point of mere policy, in leaving to women only Hobson's choice. But, in that case, all that has been done in the modern world to relax the chain on the minds of women, has been a mistake. They should have never been allowed to receive a literary education.  A Hobson's choice is different from:  Dilemma: a choice between two or more options, none of which is attractive. False dilemma: only certain choices are considered, when in fact there are others. Catch-22: a logical paradox arising from a situation in which an individual needs something that can only be acquired by not being in that very situation. Morton's fork, and a double bind: choices yield equivalent, and often undesirable, results. Blackmail and extortion: the choice between paying money (or some non-monetary good or deed) or risk suffering an unpleasant action. A common error is to use the phrase "Hobbesian choice" instead of "Hobson's choice", confusing the philosopher Thomas Hobbes with the relatively obscure Thomas Hobson  (It's possible they may be confusing "Hobson's choice" with "Hobbesian trap", which refers to the trap into which a state falls when it attacks another out of fear). Notwithstanding that confused usage, the phrase "Hobbesian choice" is historically incorrect. Common law In Immigration and Naturalization Service v. Chadha (1983), Justice Byron White dissented and classified the majority's decision to strike down the "one-house veto" as unconstitutional as leaving Congress with a Hobson's choice. Congress may choose between "refrain[ing] from delegating the necessary authority, leaving itself with a hopeless task of writing laws with the requisite specificity to cover endless special circumstances across the entire policy landscape, or in the alternative, to abdicate its lawmaking function to the executive branch and independent agency".  In Philadelphia v. New Jersey, 437 U.S. 617 (1978), the majority opinion ruled that a New Jersey law which prohibited the importation of solid or liquid waste from other states into New Jersey was unconstitutional based on the Commerce Clause. The majority reasoned that New Jersey cannot discriminate between the intrastate waste and the interstate waste with out due justification. In dissent, Justice Rehnquist stated:  [According to the Court,] New Jersey must either prohibit all landfill operations, leaving itself to cast about for a presently nonexistent solution to the serious problem of disposing of the waste generated within its own borders, or it must accept waste from every portion of the United States, thereby multiplying the health and safety problems which would result if it dealt only with such wastes generated within the State. Because past precedents establish that the Commerce Clause does not present appellees with such a Hobson's choice, I dissent.  In Monell v. Department of Social Services of the City of New York, 436 U.S. 658 (1978) the judgement of the court was that  [T]here was ample support for Blair's view that the Sherman Amendment, by putting municipalities to the Hobson's choice of keeping the peace or paying civil damages, attempted to impose obligations to municipalities by indirection that could not be imposed directly, thereby threatening to "destroy the government of the states".  In the South African Constitutional Case MEC for Education, Kwa-Zulu Natal and Others v Pillay, 2008 (1) SA 474 (CC) Chief Justice Langa for the majority of the Court (in Paragraph 62 of the judgement) writes that:  The traditional basis for invalidating laws that prohibit the exercise of an obligatory religious practice is that it confronts the adherents with a Hobson's choice between observance of their faith and adherence to the law. There is however more to the protection of religious and cultural practices than saving believers from hard choices. As stated above, religious and cultural practices are protected because they are central to human identity and hence to human dignity which is in turn central to equality. Are voluntary practices any less a part of a person's identity or do they affect human dignity any less seriously because they are not mandatory?  In Epic Systems Corp. v. Lewis (), Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg dissented and added in one of the footnotes that the petitioners "faced a Hobson’s choice: accept arbitration on their employer’s terms or give up their jobs".  In Trump et al v. Mazars USA, LLP, US Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia No. 19-5142, 49 (D.C. Cir. 11 October ) ("[w]orse still, the dissent’s novel approach would now impose upon the courts the job of ordering the cessation of the legislative function and putting Congress to the Hobson’s Choice of impeachment or nothing.").  Popular culture Hobson's Choice is a full-length stage comedy written by Harold Brighouse in 1915. At the end of the play, the central character, Henry Horatio Hobson, formerly a wealthy, self-made businessman but now a sick and broken man, faces the unpalatable prospect of being looked after by his daughter Maggie and her husband Will Mossop, who used to be one of Hobson's underlings. His other daughters have refused to take him in, so he has no choice but to accept Maggie's offer which comes with the condition that he must surrender control of his entire business to her and her husband, Will.  The play was adapted for film several times, including versions from 1920 by Percy Nash, 1931 by Thomas Bentley, 1954 by David Lean and a 1983 TV movie.  Alfred Bester's 1952 short story Hobson's Choice describes a world in which time travel is possible, and the option is to travel or to stay in one's native time.  In the 1951 Robert Heinlein book Between Planets, the main character Don Harvey incorrectly mentions he has a Hobson's choice. While on a space station orbiting Earth, Don needs to get to Mars, where his parents are. The only rockets available are back to Earth (where he is not welcome) or on to Venus.  In The Grim Grotto by Lemony Snicket, the Baudelaire orphans and Fiona are said to be faced with a Hobson's Choice when they are trapped by the Medusoid Mycelium Mushrooms in the Gorgonian Grotto: "We can wait until the mushrooms disappear, or we can find ourselves poisoned".In Bram Stoker's short story "The Burial of Rats", the narrator advises he has a case of Hobson's Choice while being chased by villains. The story was written around 1874.  The Terminal Experiment, a 1995 science fiction novel by Robert J. Sawyer, was originally serialised under the title Hobson's Choice.  Half-Life, a video game created in 1998 by Valve includes a Hobson's Choice in the final chapter. A human-like entity, known only as the 'G-Man', offers the protagonist Gordon Freeman a job, working under his control. If Gordon were to refuse this offer, he would be killed in an unwinnable battle, thus creating the 'illusion of free choice'.  In Early Edition, the lead character Gary Hobson is named after the choices he regularly makes during his adventures.  In an episode of Inspector George Gently, a character claims her resignation was a Hobson's choice, prompting a debate among other police officers as to who Hobson is.  In "Cape May" (The Blacklist season 3, episode 19), Raymond Reddington describes having faced a Hobson's choice in the previous episode where he was faced with the choice of saving Elizabeth Keen's baby and losing Elizabeth Keen or losing them both.  In his 1984 novel Job: A Comedy of Justice, Robert A. Heinlein's protagonist is said to have Hobson's Choice when he has the options of boarding the wrong cruise ship or staying on the island.  Remarking about the 1909 Ford Model T, US industrialist Henry Ford is credited as saying “Any customer can have a car painted any color that he wants so long as it is black”  In 'The Jolly Boys' Outing', a 1989 Christmas Special episode of Only Fools and Horses, Alan states they are left with Hobson's Choice after their coach has blown up (due to a dodgy radio, supplied by Del). There's a rail strike, the last bus has gone, and their coach is out of action. They can't hitch-hike as there's 27 of them, and the replacement coach doesn't come till the next morning, thus their only choice is to stay in Margate for the night.  See also Buckley's Chance Buridan's ass Boulwarism Death and Taxes Locus of control Morton's fork No-win situation Standard form contract Sophie's Choice Zugzwang References  Barrett, Grant. "Hobson's Choice", A Way with Words  "Thomas Hobson: Hobson's Choice and Hobson's Conduit". Historyworks.  See Samuel Fisher. "Rusticus ad academicos in exercitationibus expostulatoriis, apologeticis quatuor the rustick's alarm to the rabbies or The country correcting the university and clergy, and ... contesting for the truth ... : in four apologeticall and expostulatory exercitations : wherein is contained, as well a general account to all enquirers, as a general answer to all opposers of the most truly catholike and most truly Christ-like Chistians called Quakers, and of the true divinity of their doctrine : by way of entire entercourse held in special with four of the clergies chieftanes, viz, John Owen ... Tho. Danson ... John Tombes ... Rich. Baxter ." Europeana. Retrieved 8 August .  See The Spectator with Notes and General Index, the Twelve Volumes Comprised in Two. Philadelphia: J.J. Woodward. 1832. p. 272. Retrieved 4 August . via Google Books  Ward, Thomas (1853). English Reformation, A Poem. New York: D.& J. Sadlier & Co. p. 373. Retrieved 8 August . via   See Mill, John Stuart (1861). Considerations on Representative Government (1 ed.). London: Parker, Son, & Bourn. p. 145. Retrieved 23 June . via Google Books  Mill, John Stuart (1869). The Subjection of Women (1869 first ed.). London: Longmans, Green, Reader & Dyer.  51–2. Retrieved 28 July .  Hobbes, Thomas (1982) [1651]. Leviathan, or the Matter, Form, and Power of a Commonwealth, Ecclesiastical and Civil. New York: Viking Press.  Martinich, A. P. (1999). Hobbes: A Biography. Cambridge, UK; New York: Cambridge University Press.  978-0-521-49583-7.  Martin, Gary. "Hobson's Choice". The Phrase Finder. Archived from the original on 6 March 2009. Retrieved 7 August .  "The Hobbesian Trap" . 21 September . Retrieved 8 April .  "Sunday Lexico-Neuroticism". boaltalk.blogspot.com. 27 July 2008. Retrieved 7 August .  Levy, Jacob (10 June 2003). "The Volokh Conspiracy". volokh.com. Retrieved 7 August .  Oxford English Dictionary, Editor: "Amazingly, some writers have confused the obscure Thomas Hobson with his famous contemporary, the philosopher Thomas Hobbes. The resulting malapropism is beautifully grotesque". Garner, Bryan (1995). A Dictionary of Modern Legal Usage (2nd ed.). Oxford University Press.  404–405.  supreme.justia.com/cases/federal/us/437/617/  "Monell v. Department of Soc. Svcs.436 U.S. 658 (1978)". justicia.com. US Supreme Court. 6 June 1978. 436 U.S. 658. Retrieved 19 February .  "MEC for Education: Kwazulu-Natal and Others v Pillay (CCT 51/06) [2007] ZACC 21; 2008 (1) SA 474 (CC); 2008 (2) BCLR 99 (CC) (5 October 2007)". saflii.org.  Snicket, Lemony (2004) The Grim Grotto, New York: HarperCollins Publishers p.145147  Henry Ford in collaboration with Samuel Crowther in My Life and Work. 1922. Page 72 External links Chisholm, Hugh, ed. (1911). "Hobson's Choice" . Encyclopædia Britannica. 13 (11th ed.). Cambridge University Press. p. 553. Categories: English-language idiomsFree willMetaphors referring to peopleDilemmas. Refs.: H. P. Grice and D. F. Pears, The philosophy of action, Pears, Choosing and deciding. The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

                                                                                                                  

hoc -- hic, the hæc, and the hoc, theGrice: “The proper way to enter this in a philosophical lexicon is via that favourite gender of philosophers: the epicene or neuter!” -- “Scotus was being clever. Since he wanted an abstract noun, and abstract nouns are feminine in both Greek and Latin (‘ippotes, eqquitas’), he chose the feminine ‘haec,’ to turn into a ‘thess.’ But we should expand his rather sexist view to apply to ‘hic’ and ‘hoc,’ too. In Anglo-Saxon, there is only ‘this,’ with ‘thess’ first used by Pope George. The OED first registers ‘thess’ in 1643.”cf. OED: "It is at its such-&-suchness, at its character -- in other words, at the _universal_ in it -- that we have to look. the first cite in the OED for 'thess' also features 'thatness': "thess,” from "this" + "-ness": rendering ‘haecceitas,’ the quality of being 'this' (as distinct from anything else): = haecceity. First cite: "It is evident that [...] THess, and THATness belong[...] not to matter by itself, but onely as [matter] is distinguished & individuated by the form." The two further quotes for 'thess' being: 1837 Whewell Hist Induct Sc 1857 I 244: "Which his school called ‘HAECcceity’from the feminine form of the demonstrative masculine ‘hic,’ in Roman, neutre ‘hoc’ (Scotus uses the femine because ‘-ity- is a feminine ending) -- or ‘thess.’", and 1895 Rashdall Universities II 532: "An individuating form called by the later Scotists its ‘haecceitas’ or its `thess'").  "The investing of the content, which is in Bradleian language a `what', with self-existent reality or ‘that-ness'." Athenaeum 24 Dec. 1904 868/2. -- OED, 'thatness'. Trudgill writes in _The Dialects of England_ (Oxford: Blackwell), that Grice would often consult (he was from Harborne and had a special interest in this“I seem to have lost my dialect when I moved to Corpus.” The 'this'-'that' demonstrative system is a two-way system which distinguishes between things which are distant and things which are near. Interestingly, however, a number of traditional dialects in England (if not Oxford) differ from this system in having what Grice called a Griceian _three_-way distinction. The Yorkshire dialect, for example, has ‘this’ (sing., near), ‘thir’ (pl. near), ‘that’ (sing. Medial) ‘tho’ (plural, medial), thon (sing. distal) and ‘thon’ (pl., distal). The Mercian Anglian dialect has ‘these’ (sing. near), ‘theys’ (plural, near), ‘that’ (sing. medial), ‘they’ (pl., medial), ‘thik’ (sing./pl., distal). “The northern dialect is better in that it distinguishes between the singular and the plural form for the distal, unlike the southern dialect which has ‘thik’ for either.” Grice. Still, Grice likes the sound of ‘thik’ and quotes from his friend M. Wakelin, _The Southwest of England_. "When I awoke one May day morn/I found an urge within me born/To see the beauteous countryside/That's all round wher'I do bide./So I set out wi' dog & stick,/ My head were just a trifle thick./But good ole' fresh air had his say/& blowed thik trouble clean away." -- B. Green, in _The Dorset Year Book_. Dorset: Society of Dorset Men. “Some like Russell, but Bradley’s MY man.”H. P. Grice: Grice: "Russell is pretentious; Bradley, an English angel, is not!" "Bradley can use 'thatness' freely; Russell uses it after Bradley and artificially." all the rest of the watery bulk : but return back those few  drops from whence they were taken, and the glass-full that  even now had an individuation by itself, loseth that, and  groweth one and the same with the other main stock : yet if  you fill your glass again, wheresoever you take it up, so it be  of the same uniform bulk of water you had before, it is the  same glassfuU of water that you had. But as I said before,  this example fitteth entirely no more than the other did. In  such abstracted speculations, where we must consider matter  without form, (which hath no actual being,) we must not expect  adequated examples in nature. But enough is said to make  a speculative man see, that if God should join the soul of a  lately dead man, (even whilst his dead corpse should lie en-  tire in his windingsheet here,) unto a body made of earth,  taken from some mountain in America; it were most true  and certain, that the body he should then live by, were the  same identical body he lived with before his death, and late  resurrection. It is evident, that sameness, thess, and that-  ness, belongeth not to matter by itself, (for a general indiffer-  ence runneth through it all,) but only as it is distinguished and  individuated by the form. Which in our case, whensoever  the same soul doth, it must be understood always to be the  same matter and body.” (Browne, 1643).  Grice. Corbin says that English is such a plastic language, “unlike Roman,” but then there’s haec, and hæcceitas -- Duns Scotus, J., Scottish Franciscan metaphysician and philosophical theologian. He lectured at Oxford, Paris, and Cologne, where he died and his remains are still venerated. Modifying Avicenna’s conception of metaphysics as the science of being qua being, but univocally conceived, Duns Scotus showed its goal was to demonstrate God as the Infinite Being revealed to Moses as the “I am who am”, whose creative will is the source of the world’s contingency. Out of love God fashioned each creature with a unique “haecceity” or particularity formally distinct from its individualized nature. Descriptively identical with others of its kind, this nature, conceived in abstraction from haecceity, is both objectively real and potentially universal, and provides the basis for scientific knowledge that Peirce calls “Scotistic realism.” Duns Scotus brought many of Augustine’s insights, treasured by his Franciscan predecessors, into the mainstream of the Aristotelianism of his day. Their notion of the will’s “supersufficient potentiality” for self-determination he showed can be reconciled with Aristotle’s notion of an “active potency,” if one rejects the controDuhem thesis Duns Scotus, John 247   247 versial principle that “whatever is moved is moved by another.” Paradoxically, Aristotle’s criteria for rational and non-rational potencies prove the rationality of the will, not the intellect, for he claimed that only rational faculties are able to act in opposite ways and are thus the source of creativity in the arts. If so, then intellect, with but one mode of acting determined by objective evidence, is non-rational, and so is classed with active potencies called collectively “nature.” Only the will, acting “with reason,” is free to will or nill this or that. Thus “nature” and “will” represent Duns Scotus’s primary division of active potencies, corresponding roughly to Aristotle’s dichotomy of non-rational and rational. Original too is his development of Anselm’s distinction of the will’s twofold inclination or “affection”: one for the advantageous, the other for justice. The first endows the will with an “intellectual appetite” for happiness and actualization of self or species; the second supplies the will’s specific difference from other natural appetites, giving it an innate desire to love goods objectively according to their intrinsic worth. Guided by right reason, this “affection for justice” inclines the will to act ethically, giving it a congenital freedom from the need always to seek the advantageous. Both natural affections can be supernaturalized, the “affection for justice” by charity, inclining us to love God above all and for his own sake; the affection for the advantageous by the virtue of hope, inclining us to love God as our ultimate good and future source of beatitude. Another influential psychological theory is that of intuitive intellectual cognition, or the simple, non-judgmental awareness of a hereand-now existential situation. First developed as a necessary theological condition for the face-toface vision of God in the next life, intellectual intuition is needed to explain our certainty of primary contingent truths, such as “I think,” “I choose,” etc., and our awareness of existence. Unlike Ockham, Duns Scotus never made intellectual intuition the basis for his epistemology, nor believed it puts one in direct contact with any extramental substance material or spiritual, for in this life, at least, our intellect works through the sensory imagination. Intellectual intuition seems to be that indistinct peripheral aura associated with each direct sensory-intellectual cognition. We know of it explicitly only in retrospect when we consider the necessary conditions for intellectual memory. It continued to be a topic of discussion and dispute down to the time of Calvin, who, influenced by the Scotist John Major, used an auditory rather than a visual sense model of intellectual intuition to explain our “experience of God.”  haecceity from Latin haec, ‘this’, 1 loosely, thess; more specifically, an irreducible category of being, the fundamental actuality of an existent entity; or 2 an individual essence, a property an object has necessarily, without which it would not be or would cease to exist as the individual it is, and which, necessarily, no other object has. There are in the history of philosophy two distinct concepts of haecceity. The idea originated with the work of the thirteenthcentury philosopher Duns Scotus, and was discussed in the same period by Aquinas, as a positive perfection that serves as a primitive existence and individuation principle for concrete existents. In the seventeenth century Leibniz transformed the concept of haecceity, which Duns Scotus had explicitly denied to be a form or universal, into the notion of an individual essence, a distinctive nature or set of necessary characteristics uniquely identifying it under the principle of the identity of indiscernibles. Duns Scotus’s haecceitas applies only to the being of contingently existent entities in the actual world, but Leibniz extends the principle to individuate particular things not only through the changes they may undergo in the actual world, but in any alternative logically possible world. Leibniz admitted as a consequence the controversial thesis that every object by virtue of its haecceity has each of its properties essentially or necessarily, so that only the counterparts of individuals can inhabit distinct logically possible worlds. A further corollary  since the possession of particular parts in a particular arrangement is also a property and hence involved in the individual essence of any complex object  is the doctrine of mereological essentialism: every composite is necessarily constituted by a particular configuration of particular proper parts, and loses its self-identity if any parts are removed or replaced. Grice was more familiar with the thatness than the thess (“Having had to read Bradley for my metaphysics paper!”).

 

holo-gram: the image of an object in three dimensions created and reproduced by the use of lasers. Holography is a method for recording and reproducing such images. Holograms are remarkable in that, unlike normal photographs, every part of them contains the complete image but in reduced detail. Thus a small square cut from a hologram can still be laser-illuminated to reveal the whole scene originally holographed, albeit with loss of resolution. This feature made the hologram attractive to proponents of the thesis of distribution of function in the brain, who argued that memories are like holograms, not being located in a single precise engramas claimed by advocates of localization of functionbut distributed across perhaps all of the cortex. Although intriguing, the holographic model of memory storage failed to gain acceptance. Current views favor D. O. Hebb’s “cell assembly” concept, in which memories are stored in the connections between a group of neurons.

 

Hoesle: Grice: “I like Hösle – for one, he helped me understand Vico when stating that what Vico is after is a ‘science of the inter-subjective world;’ since I’m also into that I suppose I am Vico!” -- Vittorio Hösle (Milano), filosofo. Nato da padre Tedesco Johannes Hösle, docente di filologia romanzae da madre italiana Carla Gronda –, Vittorio Hösle trascorse la sua prima infanzia a Milano, dove il padre era direttore del Goethe Institut, e compì poi gli studi in Germania, dove la famiglia si era trasferita. Vero «enfant prodige» della filosofia, precoce e profondo conoscitore delle lingue antiche (greco, latino, sanscrito, ma anche pali e avestico) e di numerose lingue occidentali (ne parla sette ed è in grado di leggerne dodici), a ventidue anni si laureò con una tesi sulla filosofia antica (v. infra), a ventisei anni fu chiamato come professore associato alla New School for Social Research di New York e a trentadue anni divenne Professore all'Essen. Attualmente insegna alla Notre Dame University (Indiana) negli Stati Uniti. Il 6 agosto  è stato nominato Accademico ordinario della Pontificia Accademia delle Scienze Sociali da Papa Francesco.  Gli studi sul pensiero antico Alla «scoperta» di Hösle contribuì in modo determinante l'Istituto Italiano per gli Studi Filosofici, che lo chiamò a Napoli come borsista (venticinquenne) dell'Istituto negli anni 1985-1986. Nell'anno precedente l'Istituto aveva accolto nel suo programma editoriale la tesi di laurea di Hösle, un poderoso lavoro sulla filosofia antica di quasi 800 pagine intitolato Wahrheit und Geschichte. Studien zur Struktur der Philosophiegeschichte unter paradigmatischer Analyse der Entwicklung von Parmenides bis Platon (Verità e storia. Studi sulla struttura della storia della filosofia sulla base di un'analisi paradigmatica dell'evoluzione da Parmenide a Platone), promuovendone la pubblicazione per la casa editrice Frommann-Holzboog e successivamente una traduzione italiana per i tipi della Guerini e Associati. In quest'opera l'allora giovanissimo filosofo imposta in maniera originale il problema dei rapporti tra dimensione sistematica e dimensione storica della filosofia, analizzando lo sviluppo del pensiero greco da Parmenide a Platone.  Nel lavoro successivo, Die Vollendung der Tragödie im Spätwerk des Sophokles. Ästhetisch-historische Bemerkungen zur Struktur der attischen Tragödie (Il compimento della tragedia nell'opera tarda di Sofocle. Osservazioni storico-estetiche sulla struttura della tragedia attica)pubblicato nel 1984 dalla Fromann-Holzboog e in traduzione italiana nel 1986 da Bibliopolis –, Hösle, combinando l'approccio estetico con l'approccio filosofico, cerca di individuare una logica di sviluppo nella storia della tragedia greca e, in contrasto con l'approccio consueto, considera Sofocle come il compimento sintetico di questa storia: "il pensiero fondamentale espresso nell'opera tarda di Sofocle è sintesi dei principi che sono alla base dell'arte di Eschilo e di Euripide, principi che vengono fatti valere insieme da Sofocle e così portati alla loro verità".  Negli anni Ottanta Hösle, che a Regensburg era stato allievo del matematico e filosofo Imre Toth, si occupò anche del problema della matematica in Platone, scrivendo nel 1982 e nel 1984 alcuni saggi, che, per interessamento di Giovanni Reale, vengono tradotti in italiano e riuniti in un volume pubblicato nel 1994 dalla casa editrice "Vita e Pensiero" con il titolo I fondamenti dell'aritmetica e della geometria in Platone.  In anni recenti Hösle è tornato ad occuparsi della filosofia e della letteratura antiche. In un lavoro del 2004, Platoninterpretieren (Interpretare Platone), di cui è uscita nel 2007 anche la traduzione italiana, discute il problema delle interpretazioni di Platone enel volume del 2006, Der philosophische Dialog. Poetik eines Genres (Il dialogo filosofico. Poetica di un genere), analizza ilgenere del dialogo mettendo in connessione il punto di vista filosofico con il punto di vista letterario. Al problema della tragedia è poi dedicato il lavoro del 2009 Die Rangordnung der drei griechischen Tragiker (La gerarchia dei tre tragici greci).  Gli studi sull'idealismo tedesco e il problema della fondazione ultima riflessiva Nei suoi anni italiani a Napoli Hösle tenne una serie di seminari e di conferenze sull'idealismo tedesco, in particolare sul sistema di Hegel, e presentò diverse relazioni in convegni internazionali. Va ricordato il convegno sulla filosofia hegeliana del diritto (Napoli, 1984), i cui atti, pubblicati nel 1987 Christoph Jermann, amico e collaboratore del filosofo, col titolo Anspruch und Leistung von Hegels Rechtphilosophie, contengono, ben tre ampi saggi di Hösle, oltre a contributi dello stesso Jermann, di Kurt Seelmann e di Matthias Hartwig. Di uno di essi, Lo Stato in Hegel, esiste una traduzione italiana pubblicata nel 2008 per i tipi de "La città del Sole".  La riflessione hösliana sull'idealimo oggettivo di Hegel si sviluppa in stretta connessione col problema della "fondazione ultima riflessiva" (reflexive Letztbegründung) e con la soluzione fornita a tale problema dalla pragmatica trascendentale di Karl-Otto Apel. L'unica alternativa consistente al relativismo scettico, dominante nel panorama della filosofia contemporanea ed assurto oggi ad una sorta di principio dell'opinione pubblica, consiste, secondo Hösle, nell'impostazione riflessiva presente negli idealisti postkantiani e soprattutto in Hegel, impostazione che è necessario sviluppare con gli strumenti elaborati dalla filosofia contemporanea e in stretta connessione con i più recenti risultati delle scienze. Alla pragmatica trascendentale di Apel va riconosciuto il merito di aver riproposto in maniera originale la nozione di "fondazione ultima riflessiva", ma tale nozione va ripensata nella sua portata ontologica, superando il formalismo apeliano nella direzione di una formulazione profondamente rielaborata dell'idealismo oggettivo di matrice hegeliana.  In questa direzione, che culminerà nel poderoso lavoro del 1987 sul sistema di Hegel (v. infra), vanno le lezioni hegeliane tenute a Napoli da Hösle nel 1986 e parzialmente pubblicate in volume nel 1991 con il titolo Hegel e la fondazione dell'idealismo oggettivo, in cui è compresa anche la traduzione dell'importante saggio Begründungsfragen des objektiven Idealismus (Questioni di fondazione dell'idealismo oggettivo) scritto proprio nel 1987.  Della pragmatica trascendentale, soprattutto in relazione al problema decisivo della fondazione ultima riflessiva, Hösle tornò ad occuparsi alla fine degli anni Ottanta in una vasta monografia, Die Krise der Gegenwart und die Verantwortung der Philosophie (La crisi della contemporaneità e la responsabilità della filosofia), pubblicata nel 1990 (e tradotta in francese nel 2004): la filosofia di Apel viene analizzata all'interno delle più importanti tendenze della filosofia contemporanea, viene esposta in modo dettagliato la "prova" della fondazione ultima riflessiva (la cosiddetta "prova apagogica") e vengono discussi questioni relative al linguaggio privato, alla controversia “spiegare-comprendere (Erklären-Verstehen)” e alla fondazione dell'etica.  Gli studi su Vico e la traduzione in tedesco della Scienza Nuova Sempre in questo periodo Hösle intraprese la traduzione integrale in tedesco (la prima traduzione integrale in questa lingua) della Scienza nuova di Giambattista Vico nella terza edizione del 1744, compito affidatogli dall'Istituto Italiano per gli Studi Filosofici e che egli, insieme a Christoph Jermann, portò a termine in tempi straordinariamente brevi. Il capolavoro vichiano uscì nel 1990 per i tipi della casa editrice Felix Meiner in due volumi; la traduzione è preceduta da una introduzione filologica e teoretica di quasi 300 pagine, in cui Hösle illustra il significato ancora attuale della concezione vichiana per una teoria delle scienze della cultura filosoficamente fondata. Questa introduzione è stata tradotta in italiano e pubblicata in volume nel 1997 con il titolo Introduzione a Vico. La scienza del mondo intersoggettivo per i tipi della Guerini e Associati.  Critica e riformulazione dell'idealismo oggettivo: Il sistema di Hegel La rilessione teoretica di Hösle culmina, come si è detto, nella riformulazione critica dell'idealismo oggettivo elaborata in un lavoro di vaste proporzioni, nato come scritto di abilitazione all'insegnamento universitario e pubblicato dalla casa editrice Felix Meiner nel 1987 in due volumi col titolo Hegels System. Der Idealismus der Subjektivität und das Problem der Intersubjektivität (Il sistema di Hegel. L'idealismo della soggettività e il problema dell'intersoggettività). Sulla base di un'approfondita e articolata analisi, in primo luogo teoretica, del sistema hegeliano, la cui articolazione viene criticamente ripercorsa in modo dettagliato, Hösle vi sostiene la tesi seguente: l'aporia principale della filosofia di Hegel consiste nell'aver trascurato il problema dell'intersoggettività nella scienza della logica ossia nella parte fondativa del sistema; questa lacuna comporta un grave squilibrio nella struttura complessiva del sistema, in particolare, nella filosofia dello spirito oggettivo e dello spirito assoluto, che restano "scoperte" sul piano logico, ossia senza un corrispettivo categoriale in grado di fondare le strutture intersoggettive di cui trattano. Questa aporia fondamentale è alla radice delle altre aporie presenti nel sistema hegeliano, come, ad esempio, l'appiattimento del dover-essere sull'essere con la conseguente visione passatista e la questione della conclusione del sistema. Nel contempo Hösle cerca di mostrare come l'idea fondamentale dell'idealismo oggettivo sia teoreticamente ancora attuale e indispensabile sia per fondare in modo rigoroso la specificità del discorso filosofico sia per superare la scissione tra scienze della natura e scienze dello spirito che caratterizza in modo aporetico il pensiero moderno e contemporaneo.  Quest'opera ha avuto una vasta risonanza internazionale ed è stata tradotta in portoghese e parzialmente in coreano. Nel , promossa dall'Istituto Italiano per gli Studi Filosofici e per i tipi della casa editrice "La scuola di Pitagora", è uscita la traduzione integrale italiana (comprendente anche la Postfazione scritta dall'Autore per la seconda edizione del 1998) col titolo Il sistema di Hegel. L'idealismo della soggettività e il problema dell'intersoggettività.  La riflessione sulla filosofia pratica A partire dagli anni Novanta del secolo trascorso Hösle spostò la sua riflessione dalla "filosofia prima" alla "filosofia seconda", occupandosi di problemi morali e politici, tra cui ha un posto di rilievo la questione dell'ecologia. Notevole eco hanno suscitato la sua Philosophie der ökologischen Krise (Filosofia della crisi ecologica) del 1991, che è stata tradotta in italiano, in francese, in russo, in croato, in coreano e parzialmente in olandese.  I suoi studi delle moderne scienze sociali, politologia ed economia soprattutto, sono poi confluiti in un poderoso lavoro di filosofia pratica elaborata sul fondamento dell'idealismo oggettivo: Moral und Politik. Grundlagen einer Politischen Ethik für das 21. Jahrhundert (Morale e politica. Fondamenti di un'etica politica per il XXI secolo), pubblicato nel 1997 da Beck e tradotto in inglese nel 2004, che costituisce senz'altro la sua opera più impegnativa dopo Il sistema di Hegel.  Vanno menzionche i saggi, scritti in tempi diversi e poi raccolti nel volume Praktische Philosophie in der modernen Welt del 1992, in cui vengono discussi problemi come quello della tecnica, della valutazione etica del capitalismo, del terzo mondo, della dialettica illuminismo/controilluminismo ecc.  Altri studi e ricerche Dei numerosissimi scritti di Hösle, che riflettono la vastità dei suoi interessi e dei suoi ambiti di ricerca, è impossibile dar conto in modo easustivo. Ne segnaliamo alcuni soltanto, avendo riguardo in particolare alle traduzioni italiane disponibili. Vanno ricordati, innanzi tutto, i lavori sul significato filosofico della teoria dell'evoluzione di Charles Darwin, tra cui il saggio del 1988 Tragweite und Grenzen der evolutionären Erkenntnistheorie, tradotto in italiano col titolo Portata e limiti della teoria evoluzionistica della conoscenza (Napoli 1996, La Città del Sole), e i lavori scritti in collaborazione col biologo Christian Illies, in particolare la monografia Darwin del 1999.  Un affascinante esempio di Kinderphilosophie o Philosophy for children è il best seller scritto da Hösle insieme all'adolescente Nora K.: Das Café der toten Philosophen. Ein philosophischer Briefwechsel für Kinder und Erwachsene uscito per le edizioni Beck nel 1996 e più volte ristampato. Il libro è stato tradotto in italiano nel 1999 col titolo Aristotele e il dinosauro. La filosofia spiegata a una ragazzina, nonché in inglese, olandese, spagnolo, portoghese, portoghese/brasiliano, catalano, persiano, coreano, giapponese, turco, taiwanese, cinese e indonesiano.  Va ricordato infine il saggio su Woody Allen, Woody Allen. Versuch über das Komische (Woody Allen. Sulla comicità), uscito nel 2001 da Beck, e di cui esiste anche la versione inglese (2007), a riprova del costante interesse nutrito da Hösle per le forme d'arte, come il teatro e il cinema, in cui l'intersoggettivitàla categoria centrale della sua riflessione filosoficagioca un ruolo determinante.  Note  Il compimento della tragedia nell'opera tarda di Sofocle. Osservazioni storico-estetiche sulla struttura della tragedia attica, Napoli 1986, Bibliopolis17  Nel 2006 sono state pubblicate anche le lezioni sulla filosofia hegeliana della religione, tenute da Hösle a Napoli nel 1985, col titolo Il concetto di filosofia della religione in Hegel per l'editrice "La Scuola di Pitagora".  Die Krise der Gegenwart und die Verantwortung der Philosophie'. Transzendentalpragmatik, Letztbegründung und Ethik, München 1990, Beck.'  Prinzipien einer neuen Wissenschaft über die gemeinsame Natur der Völker, Tl.1-2, Hamburg 1990, Felix Meiner.  Opere principali di Hösle Platons Grundlegung der Euklidizität der Geometrie, in: "Philologus", 126 (1982); Zu Platons Philosophie der Zahlen und deren mathematischer und philosophischer Bedeutung, in: "Theologie und Philosophie", 59 (1984 [I fondamenti dell'aritmetica e della geometria in Platone (tr. di E. Cattanei, Introduzione di G.Reale), Milano 1994, Vita e pensiero]. Wahrheit und Geschichte. Studien zur Struktur der Philosophiegeschichte unter paradigmatischer Analyse der Entwicklung von Parmenides bis Platon, Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt 1984, Frommann-Holzboog [Verità e storia. Studi sulla struttura della storia della filosofia sulla base di un'analisi paradigmatica dell'evoluzione da Parmenide a Platone (A. Tassi; senza la III parte per volontà dell'Autore), Milano 1998, Guerini e Associati (Istituto Italiano per gli Studi FilosoficiHegeliana 24)]. Die Vollendung der Tragödie im Spätwerk des Sophokles. Ästhetisch-historische Bemerkungen zur Struktur der attischen Tragödie, Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt 1984, Frommann-Holzboog [Il compimento della tragedia nell'opera tarda di Sofocle. Osservazioni storico-estetiche sulla struttura della tragedia attica (A. Gargano), Napoli 1986, Bibliopolis (Memorie dell'Istituto Italiano per gli Studi Filosofici 16)]. Il concetto di filosofia della religione in Hegel (trascrizione delle lezioni napoletane del 1985 M. Cuccurullo e F. Iannello), Napoli 2006, La Scuola di Pitagora. Begründungsfragen des objektiven Idealismus, in: Philosophie und Begründung (hg. vom Forum für Philosophie Bad Homburg), Frankfurt 1987 [tr. it. in Hegel e la fondazione dell'idealismo oggettivo (G. Stelli; insieme alle lezioni napoletane su Hegel del 1986), Milano 1991, Guerini e Associati (Istituto Italiano per gli Studi FilosoficiHegeliana 1)]. Carl Schmitts Kritik an der Selbstaufhebung einer wertneutralen Verfassung in "Legalität und Legitimität", in: "Deutsche Vierteljahrsschrift", 61 (1987); Morality and Politics: Reflections on Machiavelli's Prince, in: "International Journal of Politics, Culture and Society", 3/1 (1989) [La legittimità del politico (tr. di S. Calabrò, I. Santa Maria, M. Ivaldo), Milano 1990, Guerini e Associati (Istituto Italiano per gli Studi Filosofici. Saggi 7)]. Hegels System. Der Idealismus der Subjektivität und das Problem der Intersubjektivität, 2 Bde., Hamburg 1987, Studienausgabe 1988, Felix Meiner Verlag [Il sistema di Hegel. L'idealismo della soggettività e il problema dell'intersoggettività (G. Stelli), Napoli , La Scuola di Pitagora]. Tragweite und Grenzen der evolutionären Erkenntnistheorie, in: "Zeitschrift für allgemeine Wissenschaftstheorie", 19 (1988) [Portata e limiti della teoria evoluzionistica della conoscenza (tr. di C. Sessa e G. Stelli), Napoli 1996, La Città del Sole]. Die Krise der Gegenwart und die Verantwortung der Philosophie. Transzendentalpragmatik, Letztbegründung, Ethik, München 1990, C.H.Beck. Vico und die Idee der Kulturwissenschaft, Einleitung zu Giambattista Vico, Prinzipien einer neuen Wissenschaft über die gemeinsame Natur der Völker, übs. von V. Hösle und Ch.Jermann, Hamburg 1990, Felix Meiner [Introduzione a Vico. La scienza del mondo intersoggettivo (tr. di C. e G. Stelli), Milano 1997, Guerini e Associati(Istituto Italiano per gli Studi Filosofici. Saggi 28)]. Philosophie der ökologischen Krise. Moskauer Vorträge, München 1991 sgg., C.H.Beck [Filosofia della crisi ecologica (tr. di P. Scibelli), Torino 1992, Einaudi]. Praktische Philosophie in der modernen Welt, München 1992 sgg., C.H.Beck. Philosophiegeschichte und objektiver Idealismus, München 1996 sgg., C.H.Beck. (con Nora K.), Das Café der toten Philosophen. Ein philosophischer Briefwechsel für Kinder und Erwachsene, München 1996 sgg., C.H.Beck [Aristotele e il dinosauro. La filosofia spiegata a una ragazzina (tr. di S. Bortoli), Torino 1999, Einaudi]. Die Philosophie und die Wissenschaften, München 1999 sgg., C.H.Beck. (con Christian Illies), Darwin, Freiburg etc. 1999, Herder. Woody Allen. Versuch über das Komische, München 2001, C.H.Beck. Platon interpretieren, Paderborn etc. 2004, Ferdinand Schöningh [Interpretare Platone (tr. di B. Marte e F. Perelda), Milano 2007, Guerini e Associati (=Istituto Italiano per gli Studi Filosofici. Saggi 43)]. Wie sollte eine synthetische Platondarstellung aussehen? Einige Ueberlegungen angesichts von Kutscheras neuer Platonmonographie, in: "Logical Analsis and History of Philosophy", Paderborn 2006, Mentis Verlag,  175-211 [Per una lettura non riduttiva di Platone (G. Longo), Napoli , La scuola di Pitagora] Die Rangordnung der drei griechischen Tragiker, Basel 2009, Schwabe.  Giambattista Vico Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel Altri progetti Collabora a Wikiquote Citazionio su Vittorio Hösle Collabora a Wikimedia Commons Wikimedia Commons contiene immagini o altri file su Vittorio Hösle Opere di Vittorio Hösle, . Vittorio Hösle, su Goodreads.  Vittorio Hösle sul  RAI Filosofia, su filosofia.rai.it. Vittorio Hösle sul sito della Pontificia Accademia delle Scienze Sociali, su pass.va. F

 

HOMOE-CLITIC -- The homoclitical/heteroclitical distinction, the: heteroclitical implicaturum:-- Greek κλιτικός (klitikós, “inflexional”, but transliterated as ‘heterocliticum’) -- signifying a stem which alternates between more than one form when declined for grammatical case. Examples of heteroclitic noun stems in Proto-Indo-European include *wod-r/n- "water" (nominoaccusative *wódr; genitive *udnés; locative *udén) and *yékw-r/n- "liver" (nominoaccusative *yékwr, genitive *ikwnés). In Proto-Indo-European, heteroclitic stems tend to be noun stems with grammatically inanimate gender. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “The heteroclitical implicaturum: implicaturum, implicitum, explicatum, explicitum: what I learned at Clifton, and why.”  homœmerum: an adjective Grice adored, from Grecian homoiomeres, ‘of like parts’). Aristotle: “A lump of bronze differs from a statue in being homoeo-merous. The lump of bronze is divisible into at least two partial lumps of bronze, whereas the statue is not divisible into statues.” Having parts, no matter how small, that share the constitutive properties of the whole. The derivative abstract noun is ‘homœomeria’. The Grecian forms of the adjective and of its corresponding privative ‘anhomoeomerous’ are used by Aristotle to distinguish between (a) non-uniform parts of living things, e.g., limbs and organs, and (b) biological stuffs, e.g., blood, bone, sap. In spite of being composed of the four elements, each biological stuff, when taken individually and without admixtures, is through-and-through F, where F represents the cluster of the constitutive properties of that stuff. Thus, if a certain physical volume qualifies as blood, all its mathematically possible sub-volumes, regardless of size, also qualify as blood. Blood is thus homoeomerous. By contrast, a face or a stomach or a leaf are an-homoeomerous: the parts of a face are not a face, etc. In Aristotle’s system, the homœomeria of the biological stuff is tied to his doctrine of the infinite divisibility of matter. The homœomerum-heterormerum distinction is prefigured in Plato (Protagoras 329d). ‘Homœomerous’ is narrow in its application than ‘homogeneous’ and ‘uniform’. We speak of a homogeneous entity even if the properties at issue are identically present only in samples that fall above a certain size. The colour of the sea can be homogeneously or uniformly blue; but it is heteromerously blue. “homoiomeres” and “homoiomereia” also occur –in the ancient sources for a pre-Aristotelian philosopher, Anaxagoras of Clazomenae, with reference to the constituent things (“chremata”) involved in his scheme of universal mixture. Moreover, homœeomeria plays a significant role outside ancient Grecian (or Griceian) philosophy, notably in twentieth-century accounts of the contrast between mass terms and count terms or sortals, and the discussion was introduced by Grice. ANAXAGORAS' THEORY OF MATTER-I. 17 homoeomerous in Anaxagoras' system falls into one of these three class. (I. 834), for example, says: 'When he ... by FM Cornford‎1930. Refs. Grice, “Cornford on Anaxagoras.” homomorphism: cf. isomorphism -- in Grice’s model theory of conversation, a structure-preserving mapping from one structure to another: thus the demonstratum is isomorph with the implicaturum, since every conversational implicaturum can be arrived via an argumentum. A structure consists of a domain of objects together with a function specifying interpretations, with respect to that domain, of the relation symbols, function symbols, and individual symbols of a given calculus. Relations, functions, and individuals in different structures for a system like System GHP correspond to one another if they are interpretations of the same symbol of GHP. To call a mapping “structure-preserving” is to say, first, that if objects in the first structure bear a certain relation to one another, then their images in the second structure (under the mapping) bear the corresponding relation to one another; second, that the value of a function for a given object (or ntuple of objects) in the first structure has as its image under the mapping the value of the corresponding function for the image of the object (or n-tuple of images) in the second structure; and third, that the image in the second structure of an object in the first is the corresponding object. An isomorphism is a homomorphism that is oneto-one and whose inverse is also a homomorphism.

 

homuncularism -- Grice on the ‘fallacia homunculi’ Grice borrows ‘homunculus’ from St. Augustine, for a miniature ‘homo’ held to inhabit the brain (or some other organ) who perceives all the inputs to the sense organs and initiates all the commands to the muscles. Any theory that posits such an internal agent risks an infinite regress (what Grice, after Augustine, calls the ‘fallacia homunculi’) since we can ask whether there is a little man in the little man’s head, responsible for his perception and action, and so on. Many familiar views of the mind and its activities seem to require a homunculus. E. g. models of visual perception that posit an inner picture as its product apparently require a homunculus to look at the picture, and models of action that treat intentions as commands to the muscles apparently require a homunculus to issue the commands. It is never an easy matter to determine whether a theory is committed to the existence of a homunculus that vitiates the theory, and in some circumstances, a homunculus can be legitimately posited at intermediate levels of theory. As Grice says, a homunculus is, shall we say, a bogey-man (to use a New-World expression) only if he duplicates entire the talents he is rung in to explain. If one can get a relatively ignorant, narrow-minded, blind homunculus to produce the intelligent behaviour of the whole, this is progress. Grice calls a theory (in philosophoical psychology) that posit such a homunculus “homuncular functionalism.” Paracelsus is credited with the first mention of the homunculus in De homunculis (c. 1529–1532), and De natura rerum (1537). Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Paracelsus.” HUMAN: Grice uses ‘human,’ technically, as opposed to ‘person.’ A human is a bio-psycho-social thing, a person is schatological. Oddly, Varro spent some time trying to explore the root of human from humus, soil.

 

Iacono: Grice: “I love Iacono; for one, he has taken Marx’s chapter on cooperation in Das Kapital seriously; but as he notes, Marx subverts the order, the symbolic interaction becomes a super-structure! Iacono recognises the perplexities of shared intentionality, and finds ways to deal with them conceptually --.” Alfonso Maurizio Iacono (Agrigento), filosofo. Ordinario di Storia della Filosofia all'Pisa, nell'anno accademico è stato Visiting Professor all'Université de Paris 1 (Sorbonne-Panthéon). Fino al  ha ricoperto la carica di Preside della Facoltà di Lettere e Filosofia dell'Pisa. Dal  al  è stato Presidente del Sistema Museale di Ateneo (SMA) dell'Pisa.  Iacono è stato fra gli studiosi italiani che negli anni settanta e ottanta si sono interessati ai rapporti storici e teorici tra filosofia, antropologia e politica. Fin dai primi anni ottanta, si è inoltre occupato di epistemologia della complessità, collaborando con Gianluca Bocchi, Mauro Ceruti, e Francisco Varela, contribuendo all'introduzione dei temi dell'epistemologia della complessità nel dibattito filosofico italiano. In continuità con quell'impegno di ricerca, che trovò prima espressione nella pubblicazione de L'evento e l'osservatore (1987), nel 2005 ha fondato il Laboratorio filosofico sulla complessità Ichnos.  La sua ricerca si è concentrata sui rapporti tra filosofia, politica e antropologia nel pensiero moderno e contemporaneo, in un costante confronto con il pensiero antico: al riguardo, ha dedicato numerosi studi all'analisi storiografica di nozioni quali feticismo, paura e meraviglia, e all'indagine epistemologica sul tema dell'osservatore. Tali ricerche gravitano attorno ad una riflessione sul tema dell'altro nelle relazioni storico-sociali e politiche: da qui i saggi sulle triadi concettuali autonomia, potere, minorità e storia, verità, finzione.  Ne Il borghese e il selvaggio (1982) Iacono ha analizzato l'influenza della figura di Robinson Crusoe nei paradigmi filosofico-economici di Turgot e Adam Smith rilevando gli elementi di antropologia occidentalista là dove la rappresentazione teorica della società e della storia si mostrava nei suoi aspetti apparentemente semplici, ovvi e trasparenti tali da nascondere con l'evidenza i presupposti del punto di vista coloniale.  In Teorie del feticismo (1985), la genealogia del concetto di feticismo dalla sua origine nell'illuminista Charles de Brosses fino a Marx, a Freud e al pensiero contemporaneo, ha contribuito, sul piano metodologico, all'idea di una storia della filosofia interpretata attraverso concetti e, sul piano interpretativo, alla messa in evidenza dei mutamenti semantici del “feticismo”, un concetto di origine coloniale che si è trasformato con Marx e con Freud in due modi di operare, rispettivamente sul mondo storico-sociale e sul mondo della psiche, basati sulla pratica teorica di un'antropologia dall'interno. Le fétichisme. Histoire d'un concept del 1992 è ancora oggi uno dei testi più citati sull'argomento. Nel 1998, in Paura e meraviglia, i temi storiografici dell'illuminismo e del feticismo vengono ripresi e ridiscussi alla luce del pensiero contemporaneo.  Il problema filosofico e politico dell'antropologia dall'interno è stato sviluppato attraverso la questione epistemologica dell'osservatore a cui Iacono ha dedicato alcuni scritti teorici tra i quali L'evento e l'osservatore (1987). Influenzato da Marx, ma anche da Foucault e da Bateson, Iacono ha analizzato le teorie della storia di Bossuet, Vico e Droysen attraverso il tema del ruolo dell'osservatore che interpreta gli eventi sociali e naturali nella loro storicità. Interessato alle teorie contemporanee dell'autorganizzazione biologica (Atlan, Maturana, Varela), Iacono ha cercato di reinterpretare il senso epistemologico della storia, la parzialità dei punti di vista impliciti dell'osservatore e delle sue visioni del mondo, la questione dell'altro, il rapporto tra scienze storico-sociali e scienze naturali, alla luce del concetto di complessità. In questa chiave, in Tra individui e cose del 1995, Iacono raccoglieva i risultati di ricerche che, all'interno dei rapporti fra filosofia, antropologia e politica, si interrogava attraverso Gregory Bateson sull'idea del ‘pensare per storie' come momento metodologico e critico di un'antropologia dall'interno in una società come quella occidentale moderna dove le cose si sostituiscono feticisticamente agli uomini e il conformismo si mostra incessantemente e paradossalmente come l'irrompere del nuovo.  Il problema della critica sociale e dell'autonomia individuale come decisivo in una società occidentale che domina il mondo dichiarandosi libera e democratica è al centro del libro Autonomia, potere, minorità (2000, Premio Speciale Pozzale Luigi Russo 2001). Partendo dallo scritto di Kant Risposta alla domanda: che cos'è l'Illuminismo?, Iacono si chiede perché in una società istituzionalmente ‘libera' e ‘democratica', all'indomani della fine dei regimi socialisti, il desiderio di uscire dallo stato di minorità non riesce a vincere il contrastante desiderio di rimanere nello stato di minorità, perché in sostanza è così forte la paura di essere autonomi.  La questione dell'autonomia ha portato Iacono a interessarsi ai temi della verità, dell'illusione e dell'inganno. Per un'antropologia dall'interno occorre vedere con altri occhi e per vedere con altri occhi è necessario acquisire uno sguardo d'altrove. I temi dell'universalismo e della questione dell'altro sono discussi in quest'ottica in Storia, verità, finzione del 2006.  La meraviglia che connota il tono emotivo della conoscenza filosofica deve passare attraverso lo straniamento: essere straniero a te stesso affinché l'altro non sia straniero a te. L'autonomia può realizzarsi soltanto nella relazione con l'altro e non, come se l'è immaginato il pensiero moderno, recidendo ogni legame per poi andarlo a costituire da padroni. Ma un'antropologia dall'interno è continuamente in tensione con un senso comune che, conservando le verità condivise ovvero i pregiudizi, tende a mostrarle come ovvie, naturali, eterne, uniche, a renderle dunque salde e indiscutibili. Ci si dimentica allora che viviamo in molti mondi, in mondi intermedi (Mondi intermedi e complessità, 2005), e che siamo capaci, con la coda dell'occhio, di percepire sempre un mondo altro da quello in cui siamo immersi. Perdendo questa percezione perdiamo la nostra capacità di uscire da noi stessi e dunque la facoltà di essere autonomi. L'illusione, attraverso cui ci si approssima alla verità, che è consapevolezza critica di un'illusione stessa (Nietzsche, Pirandello), si trasforma in inganno e in autoinganno, sulle cui basi si produce il rischio della costituzione delle regole del consenso, in una società libera ma senza autonomia. Nel  ha pubblicato L'illusione e il sostituto. Riprodurre, imitare, rappresentare.  Un'altra direzione di studi riguarda  le genealogie dell'immagine della finestra e del concetto di illusione nella storia del pensiero occidentale. In quest'ambito di riflessione Iacono ha realizzato con il regista Renzo Boldrini e l'artista Andrea Bastogi (produzione Giallo Mare Minimal Teatro) una conferenza multimediale sullo spettatore e i suoi paradossi, dal titolo Con altri occhi.  Iacono dirige il bimestrale di politica e cultura Il Grandevetro. Ha collaborato per anni al quotidiano il manifesto. Fa parte del Comitato scientifico della Scuola di formazione e ricerca sui conflitti Polemos. Fa parte del comitato scientifico della Fondazione Collegio San Carlo di Modena.  Ha laureato molti studenti al polo universitario universitario penitenziario della casa circondariale Don Bosco di Pisa e tuttora collabora a progetti e iniziative per un'effettiva opera di recupero del detenuto che sconta la pena.  Opere (selezione) Saggi Il borghese e il selvaggio, Pisa 2003 (2nd. ed.) Teorie del feticismo, Milano 1985 L'evento e l'osservatore, Bergamo 1987; trad. fr., L'evenement et l'observateur Paris 1998 Le fétichisme. Histoire d'un concept, Paris 1992 Fetischismus, in H.J. Sandkühler (Hg.), Europäische Enzyklopädie zu Philosophie und Wissenschaften, Bd. 2, Felix, Meiner Verlag, Hamburg The American Indians and the Ancients of Europe, in  The Classical Tradition and the Americans,  I, Berlin-New York 1994 Tra individui e cose, Roma 1995 Paura e meraviglia. Storie filosofiche del XVIII secolo, Catanzaro 1998 Autonomia, potere, minorità, Milano 2000 (Premio Speciale Pozzale Luigi Russo 2001) Caminhos de saida do estado de menoridate, Rio de Janeiro, 2001 (con A. G. Gargani), Mondi intermedi e complessità, Pisa 2005 Storia, verità e finzione, Roma 2006 L'illusione e il sostituto. Riprodurre, imitare, rappresentare, Bruno Mondadori, Milano  The History and Theory of Fetishism (trad. di Teorie del feticismo), Palgrave Macmillan US, New York  Il sogno di una copia. Del doppio, del dubbio, della malinconia, Guerini Scientifica, Milano  Storie di mondi intermedi, Edizioni ETS, Pisa , Studi su Karl Marx. La cooperazione, l'individuo sociale, le merci, Edizioni ETS, Pisa ,  Filosofia alle elementari (con S. Viti), Le domande sono ciliegie, Manifestolibri, Roma 2000 (con S. Viti), Per mari aperti. Viaggi tra filosofia e poesia nelle scuole elementari, Roma 2003 Filosofia alle scuole superiori La giustizia è l'utile del più forte? Incontro con gli studenti del Liceo classico «Empedocle» di Agrigento, Pisa 2000 Ra Racconti L'accelerato, in Favolare Antonia Casini e Giovanni Vannozzi, MdS editore, Pisa,  La scelta, in Gabbie, Michele Bulzomì, Antonia Casini, Giovanni Vannozzi, MdS editore, Pisa  Note  il sito è momentaneamente disattivato  PSYCHOMEDIAJOURNAL OF EUROPEAN PSYCHOANALYSISAlfonso M. IaconoFrancisco Varela and the Concept of Autonomy  Alfonso Maurizio Iacono, su siusa.archivi.beniculturali.it, Sistema Informativo Unificato per le Soprintendenze Archivistiche. 

 

Illuminati – Grice: “I like Illuminati, especially his essay on Rousseay, between solipsism and conversation!” -- Augusto Illuminati, aforismi e citazioni in libertà. Jump to navigationJump to search Augusto Illuminati, filosofo italiano.  La città e il desiderio  Le trascrizioni sono da controllare e va specificata in  l'edizione di riferimento Le trascrizioni sono da controllare e va specificata in  l'edizione di riferimento  Viene meno un modo di fare in cui la soggettività potente si appropria il mondo subordinando le altre potenze soggettive e realizza la sua essenza destinale mediante adeguati meccanismi di rappresentazione e manipolazione tecnica. ( 108-109) Come utilizzare regole pubblicamente valide senza colpevolizzare e controllare dall'altro le forme di vita degli uomini è precisamente l'antinomia della cittadinanza. (p. 109) La politicizzazione di sfere inabituali va insieme alla diserzione di istituzioni sclerotiche. Una ricaduta pratica ne è l'integrazione delle strutture rappresentative con nuove lobbies o la richiesta di quote per minoranze (p. 115) Nel lasciar-essere che si contrappone alla tracotanza istituzionale convivono cosi l'ancora-non-rappresentato che cerca lobbisticamente rappresentazione, e rifiuto radicare di rappresentazione. (p. 115) Altri progetti Categoria: Filosofi italiani|

 

Incardona, Grice: “I like Incardona; for one, he gave seminars on ‘la costanza dell’io,’ as I did! Second, he used Greek freely, as I do! Third, he is slightly incomprehensible, as I am SAID to be!” --  Nunzio Incardona,  filosofo. Professore di filosofia a 'Palermo. Ha studiato nel Liceo classico Ruggero Settimo. È stato direttore, dal 1982, del Giornale di Metafisica, fondato da Michele Federico Sciacca. Tra gli altri ha collaborato con Giuseppe Masi. La tematica fondamentale della filosofia di Nunzio Incardona è la "filosofia del principio", un percorso nella storia della filosofia occidentale e nel pensiero suoi protagonisti volto all'interrogazione riguardo al fondamento e all'archè. Le due categorie concettuali attraverso cui Incardona legge la storia della filosofia sono l'arcaicità, identificata con Aristotele, e l'arcaismo, identificato con Hegel. Aristotele ed Hegel sono infatti nella filosofia del principio incardoniana le due porte, l'inizio e la fine, l'elemento e il compimento della filosofia. Il percorso del pensiero è per Incardona un percorso aporetico, in cui la dialettica assume l'aspetto di un dialogo senza soluzione fra tensione naturale alla conoscenza e fallimento destinale dell'impresa conoscitiva. A Nunzio Incardona è succeduto, nella direzione del Giornale di Metafisica, Giuseppe Nicolaci. Incardona è un'importante figura della filosofia italiana dell'ultimo novecento anche per l'influenza che ha esercitato nel campo dell'ermeneutica e della filosofia continentale. Il suo magistero ha portato alla creazione della scuola di Palermo.  Il pensiero: breve sinossi Il contributo determinante di Nunzio Incardona è stata la sua riflessione non scettica ma aporetica sull'archè. La questione aristotelica dei principi (ontologici ed epistemologici) e del principio (inteso in senso conoscitivo come principio di non contraddizione e in senso teologico come Dio) viene colta da Incardona ed elevata da questione logica a questione esistenziale. Compagni di strada naturali, sebbene fortemente criticati dal filosofo palermitano, sono, in questa sorta di teologia negativa, Jacques Derrida e Martin Heidegger. In essi è infatti rintracciabile la tematica privativa e mistico-antirazionale del rapporto con l'assoluto. L'unica cosa che si può dire dell'assoluto è che esso non è alla nostra portata, esso nasconde al filosofo il volto come all'esule è nascosta la patria. Sebbene Incardona veda nella filosofia post-hegeliana una sorta di "pleonasmo" che non ha più alcuna utilità nella società contemporanea (antifilosofia), sembra che le sue intuizioni più originali e più feconde nascano proprio da una rielaborazione personale delle tematiche ermeneutiche del secondo Heidegger.  Opere principali Idealismo della filosofia ed esperienza storica, L'Epos, Palermo, 1995. Idealismo tedesco e neo-idealismo italiano, L'Epos, Palermo, 1995. Gli inferi del principio. Interrogazione e invocazione, L'Epos, Palermo, 1994. Karpòs, L'Epos, Palermo, 1991. Meditatio in curriculo mortis, L'Epos, Palermo, 1990. Kéntron, L'Epos, Palermo, 1988.  Rosaria Caldarone, "L'inclusione dell’altro. Profilo di Giuseppe Nicolaci", Epekeina. International Journal of Ontology, History and Critics.

 

Infantino: Grice: “I like Infantino: for one, he prefaced an essay on ‘the perils of solidarity,’ which is all my conversational pragmatics is about!” -- Lorenzo Infantino (Gioia Tauro), filosofo. Pprofessore a Roma. Ha studiato economia, sociologia, politica e teoria della conoscenza. Ha svolto la parte prevalente della sua ricerca presso l’Oxford (Linacre College). Sul “Times Literary Supplement”, Kenneth Minogue lo ha definito uno “studioso di orientamento anglo-austriaco”. La sua attività intellettuale si svolge infatti nel solco tracciato da Friedrich A. von Hayek che, com’è noto, ha coniugato le acquisizioni di Mandeville e dei moralisti scozzesi con quelle della Scuola Austriaca di Economia.  Infantino si è intensamente dedicato alla divulgazione di classiche opere della Scuola Austriaca, curando l’edizione italiana di numerosi testi di Menger, Boehm-Bawerk, Mises e Hayek, apparsi tutti presso la casa editrice Rubbettino, nella collana editoriale “Biblioteca Austriaca”. Ha inoltre pubblicato importanti risultati della sua ricerca, in quattro principali volumi. 1) L’ordine senza piano, apparso originariamente in italiano nel 1995, che ha avuto poi varie riedizioni. Il testo è stato pubblicato in inglese dalla Routledge di Londra nel 1998 e ha ricevuto favorevoli recensioni da parte di Kenneth Minogue e Andrew Cohen; il libro è stato tradotto anche in spagnolo dalla Union Editorial di Madrid. 2) Ignoranza e libertà è apparso nel 1999 ed è stato pubblicato in inglese dalla Routledge (2003) e in spagnolo dalla Union Editorial (2004). 3) Individualismo, mercato e storia delle idee (2008), apparso anche in spagnolo, presso la Union Editorial (). 4) Potere. La dimensione politica dell’azione umana (), la cui versione inglese è stata pubblicata dalla Palgrave Macmillan ().  Lorenzo Infantino vede nelle conseguenze inintenzionali delle azioni umane intenzionali l’oggetto delle scienze sociali, che vengono in tal modo affrancate da qualsiasi psicologismo. È il tema sollevato da Mandeville e dai moralisti scozzesi, ripreso poi con forza da Carl Menger e da Friedrich A. von Hayek. Non sono le intenzioni dei singoli (o quelli che sono stati infelicemente chiamati “spiriti animali”) a spiegare i fenomeni sociali. Occorre piuttosto individuare le condizioni che rendono possibile o impossibile un dato evento. Tale tradizione di ricerca ha come suo presupposto il riconoscimento dell’ignoranza e della fallibilità umane. Da cui discende l’abbattimento del mito del “Grande Legislatore”, il cui posto viene occupato dal processo sociale, cioè dalla cooperazione volontaria. Questa costituisce un procedimento di esplorazione dell’ignoto e di correzione degli errori. Ed è su tale teoria della società che Infantino si muove per spiegare il fenomeno del potere, da lui studiato come potere infrasociale, derivante cioè dall’interazione fra gli uomini, e il potere pubblico, ossia il potere d’intervento dello Stato nella vita sociale. La competizione minimizza il potere infrasociale, perché non c’è un’unica persona che offre o un’unica persona che richiede. Il potere pubblico si minimizza o si limita, attribuendo allo Stato un’esclusiva funzione di servizio nei confronti della cooperazione sociale volontaria.  Lorenzo Infantino ha pubblicato di recente una raccolta di saggi, Cercatori di Libertà (Rubbettino, ), in cui è ospitato un suo scritto che ha fatto da introduzione alla traduzione italiana del volume (A proposito di Rousseau), dedicato da David Hume alla rottura dei suoi rapporti con Jean-Jacques Rousseau; gli altri saggi della raccolta si occupano di Benjamin Constant, Ludwig von Mises, Friedrich A. von Hayek, Bruno Leoni, Robert Nozick, José Ortega y Gasset, Luigi Einaudi. Sempre nel , Raimondo Cubeddu e Pietro Reichlin hanno curato un volume (Rubbettino Editore) di scritti in onore di Lorenzo Infantino, a cui hanno contribuito numerosi studiosi di ispirazione liberale.  Nel 2008, Infantino ha partecipato all’Austrian Colloquium della New York University, e ha tenuto la Hayek Memorial Lecture presso il Ludwig von Mises Institute di Auburn (Alabama). È stato per due volte presidente dell’Italian Linacre Society; è presidente della Fondazione HayekItalia.  Pubblicazioni Lorenzo Infantino  , Sociologia dell'imperialismo: interpretazioni liberali, Milano, FrancoAngeli, 1980,  88-204-1796-0. Dall'utopia al totalitarismo: Marx, Dio e l'impossibile, Roma, Borla, 1985,  88-263-0647-8. Ortega y Gasset: una introduzione, Roma, Armando, 1990,  88-7144-193-1. Ludwig von Mises e la societa aperta, Roma, Quaderni del Centro di metodologia delle scienze socialiLUISS Guido Carli, 1992,  . L'ordine senza piano: le ragioni dell'individualismo metodologico, Roma, NIS,  L'ordine senza piano: le ragioni dell'individualismo metodologico, 2ª ed., Roma, Armando, 1998,  88-7144-863-4. L'ordine senza piano: le ragioni dell'individualismo metodologico, 3ª ed., Roma, Armando, 2Individualism in Modern Thought: From Adam Smith to Hayek, Londra-New York, Routledge, 1998,  0-415-18524-6.El orden sin plan: las razones del individualismo metodológico, Madrid, Union Editorial, 2Metodo e mercato, Soveria Mannelli, Rubbettino, 1998,  88-7284-699-4. Ignoranza e libertà, Soveria Mannelli, Rubbettino, 1999,  88-7284-841-5.Ignorance and Liberty, Londra-New York, Routledge, .Ignorancia y Libertad, Madrid, Union Editorial, 2004,  978-84-7209-405-5. Dario Antiseri e Lorenzo Infantino , Destra e sinistra due parole ormai inutili, Soveria Mannelli, Rubbettino,  Dario Antiseri e Lorenzo Infantino  Scuola austriaca di economia: album di famiglia , Soveria Mannelli, Rubbettino, 1999,  88-7284-822-9.Ensayos de Teorìa Econòmica, Madrid, Union Editorial, Dario Antiseri e Lorenzo Infantino , Le ragioni degli sconfitti: nella lotta per la scuola libera, Roma, Armando, Lorenzo Infantino e Nicola Iannello  , Ludwig von Mises: le scienze sociali nella grande Vienna, Soveria Mannelli, Rubbettino, 2004,  88-7284-841-5. Individualismo, mercato e storia delle idee, Soveria Mannelli, Rubbettino, .Individualismo, mercado y historia de las ideas, Madrid, Union Editorial,  Potere. La dimensione politica dell'azione umana, Soveria Mannelli, Rubbettino, ,  978-88-498-3732-2. Nicola Iannello e Lorenzo Infantino , Idee di libertà. Economia, diritto, società, Soveria Mannelli, Rubbettino, Cercatori di libertà, Soveria Mannelli, Rubbettino, . Raimondo Cubeddu e Pietro Reichlin , Individuo, libertà e potere. Studi in onore di Lorenzo Infantino, Soveria Mannelli, Rubbettino, . Infrasocial Power. Political Dimensions of Human Action, Palgrave MacMillan, New York, . trad, inglese di Potere: la dimensione politica dell'azione umana, Rubbettino, Soveria Mannelli, . Note  Opere di Lorenzo Infantino. Registrazioni di Lorenzo Infantino, su RadioRadicale.it, Radio Radicale.

 

iorio:  Grice: “The line and the circle is what Chomsky would call a NP, but there’s two books on it by Italian philosophers! Oddly, I visited Sorrento on my way to Greece!” -- Paolo D'Iorio (Seravezza), filosofo. Si è laureato in filosofia all'Pisa con Giuliano Campioni perfezionandosi poi alla Scuola Normale Superiore. È stato borsista della Stiftung Weimarer Klassik di Weimar, dell'Pisa (formazione post-dottorale) e della Technische Universität di Berlino. Nel 1998 è stato assunto al Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique di Parigi.  Nel 2001 ha ricevuto il premio Sofja Kovalevskaja della Fondazione von Humboldt e del Ministero della ricerca tedesco e ha diretto per alcuni anni un'équipe di ricerca all'Monaco di iera. Dal 2007 al  ha effettuato un soggiorno di ricerca a Oxford come visiting fellow dell'Oxford Internet Institute e membro della Maison Française d'Oxford e dell'Oxford e-Research Centre.  Attualmente insegna all'École Normale Supérieure di Parigi e dirige l'Institut des Textes et Manuscrits Modernes (ITEM).  Specialista di Nietzsche, si è occupato del rapporto del filosofo con i suoi contemporanei e con la Grecia antica. Si interessa inoltre dell'uso di Internet per l'edizione critica di testi filosofici. È direttore editoriale di Nietzsche Source, un sito web dedicato alla pubblicazione di edizioni e altri contributi riguardanti la vita e l'opera di Friedrich Nietzsche. I contenuti del sito possono essere liberamente utilizzati per la ricerca e l'insegnamento.  Principali pubblicazioni La linea e il circolo. Cosmologia e filosofia dell'eterno ritorno in Nietzsche. Genova, Pantograf, 1995 Le voyage de Nietzsche à Sorrente. Genèse de la philosophie de l'esprit libre, Paris, CNRS Éditions, Juin ,  246; trad. port. Nietzsche na Itália A viagem que mudou os rumos da filosofia, Zahar, Rio de Janeiro, ; traduzione turca Nietzsche’nin Sorrento Yolculuğu, Isbank Culture Publishing, Istanbul, ; traduzione spagnola El viaje de Nietzsche a Sorrento. Una travesía crucial hacia el espíritu libre, Gedisa, Barcelona, ; traduzione americana Nietzsche’s Journey to Sorrento. Genesis of the Philosoophy of the Free Spirit, University of Chicago Press, . 'Friedrich Nietzsche, Les philosophes préplatoniciens. Combas, l'éclat 1994 (prima edizione in traduzione francese del manoscritto delle lezioni di Nietzsche sui filosofi preplatonici, introdotta e commentata assieme a Francesco Fronterotta) Friedrich Nietzsche, "Écrits de jeunesse" P. D'Iorio et F. Fronterotta, in Friedrich Nietzsche, Oeuvres,  I, Bibliothèque de la Pléiade, Paris, Gallimard, Giuliano Campioni, Paolo D'Iorio, Maria Cristina Fornari, Francesco Fronterotta, Andrea Orsucci, unter Mitwirkung von Renate Müller-Buck, "Nietzsches persönliche Bibliothek", De Gruyter, Berlin-New York, 2003, 736 p. Mazzino Montinari, 'La volonté de puissance' n'existe pas, a cura e con una postfazione di P. D'Iorio, Paris, Éditions de l'éclat, 1996. Genesi, critica, edizioneD'Iorio e N. Ferrand, Pisa, Scuola Normale Superiore, 1999. "Bibliothèques d'écrivains", sous la direction de Paolo D'Iorio et Daniel Ferrer, Paris, éditions du CNRS, 2001, 214 p. HyperNietzsche. Modèle d'un hypertexte savant sur Internet pour la recherche en sciences humaines. Questions philosophiques, problèmes juridiques, outils informatiques", Paolo D'Iorio. Paris, Presses Universitaires de France, Paolo D'Iorio, Michele Barbera, «Scholarsource: A Digital Infrastructure for the Humanities», in Th. Bartscherer and R. Coover (éds.) "Switching Codes. Thinking through New Technology in the Humanities and the Arts", Chicago, University of Chicago Press, ,  61–87. Note  Pagina di Paolo D'Iorio sul sito dell'ITEM/ENS  Nietzsche Source  Friedrich Nietzsche/

 

IN-LATUM: illatum, f. illātĭo (inl- ), ōnis, f. in-fero, a logical inference, conclusion: “vel illativum rogamentum. quod ex acceptionibus colligitur et infertur,” A Dogm. Plat. 3,  34, 15.infero: to conclude, infer, draw an inference, Cic. Inv. 1, 47, 87; Quint. 5, 11, 27. ILLATUM -- inference, the process of drawing a conclusion from premises or assumptions, or, loosely, the conclusion so drawn. An argument can be merely a number of statements of which one is designated the conclusion and the rest are designated premises. Whether the premises imply the conclusion is thus independent of anyone’s actual beliefs in either of them. Belief, however, is essential to inference. Inference occurs only if someone, owing to believing the premises, begins to believe the conclusion or continues to believe the conclusion with greater confidence than before. Because inference requires a subject who has beliefs, some requirements of (an ideally) acceptable inference do not apply to abstract arguments: one must believe the premises; one must believe that the premises support the conclusion; neither of these beliefs induction, eliminative inference 426 4065h-l.qxd 08/02/1999 7:39 AM Page 426 may be based on one’s prior belief in the conclusion. W. E. Johnson called these the epistemic conditions of inference. In a reductio ad absurdum argument that deduces a self-contradiction from certain premises, not all steps of the argument will correspond to steps of inference. No one deliberately infers a contradiction. What one infers, in such an argument, is that certain premises are inconsistent. Acceptable inferences can fall short of being ideally acceptable according to the above requirements. Relevant beliefs are sometimes indefinite. Infants and children infer despite having no grasp of the sophisticated notion of support. One function of idealization is to set standards for that which falls short. It is possible to judge how nearly inexplicit, automatic, unreflective, lessthan-ideal inferences meet ideal requirements. In ordinary speech, ‘infer’ often functions as a synonym of ‘imply’, as in ‘The new tax law infers that we have to calculate the value of our shrubbery’. Careful philosophical writing avoids this usage. Implication is, and inference is not, a relation between statements. Valid deductive inference corresponds to a valid deductive argument: it is logically impossible for all the premises to be true when the conclusion is false. That is, the conjunction of all the premises and the negation of the conclusion is inconsistent. Whenever a conjunction is inconsistent, there is a valid argument for the negation of any conjunct from the other conjuncts. (Relevance logic imposes restrictions on validity to avoid this.) Whenever one argument is deductively valid, so is another argument that goes in a different direction. (1) ‘Stacy left her slippers in the kitchen’ implies (2) ‘Stacy had some slippers’. Should one acquainted with Stacy and the kitchen infer (2) from (1), or infer not-(1) from not-(2), or make neither inference? Formal logic tells us about implication and deductive validity, but it cannot tell us when or what to infer. Reasonable inference depends on comparative degrees of reasonable belief. An inference in which every premise and every step is beyond question is a demonstrative inference. (Similarly, reasoning for which this condition holds is demonstrative reasoning.) Just as what is beyond question can vary from one situation to another, so can what counts as demonstrative. The term presumably derives from Aristotle’s Posterior Analytics. Understanding Aristotle’s views on demonstration requires understanding his general scheme for classifying inferences. Not all inferences are deductive. In an inductive inference, one infers from an observed combination of characteristics to some similar unobserved combination. ‘Reasoning’ like ‘painting’, and ‘frosting’, and many other words, has a process–product ambiguity. Reasoning can be a process that occurs in time or it can be a result or product. A letter to the editor can both contain reasoning and be the result of reasoning. It is often unclear whether a word such as ‘statistical’ that modifies the words ‘inference’ or ‘reasoning’ applies primarily to stages in the process or to the content of the product. One view, attractive for its simplicity, is that the stages of the process of reasoning correspond closely to the parts of the product. Examples that confirm this view are scarce. Testing alternatives, discarding and reviving, revising and transposing, and so on, are as common to the process of reasoning as to other creative activities. A product seldom reflects the exact history of its production. In An Examination of Sir William Hamilton’s Philosophy, J. S. Mill says that reasoning is a source from which we derive new truths (Chapter 14). This is a useful saying so long as we remember that not all reasoning is inference. -- inference to the best explanation, an inference by which one concludes that something is the case on the grounds that this best explains something else one believes to be the case. Paradigm examples of this kind of inference are found in the natural sciences, where a hypothesis is accepted on the grounds that it best explains relevant observations. For example, the hypothesis that material substances have atomic structures best explains a range of observations concerning how such substances interact. Inferences to the best explanation occur in everyday life as well. Upon walking into your house you observe that a lamp is lying broken on the floor, and on the basis of this you infer that the cat has knocked it over. This is plausibly analyzed as an inference to the best explanation; you believe that the cat has knocked over the lamp because this is the best explanation for the lamp’s lying broken on the floor. The nature of inference to the best explanation and the extent of its use are both controversial. Positions that have been taken include: (a) that it is a distinctive kind of inductive reasoning; (b) inference rule inference to the best explanation 427 4065h-l.qxd 08/02/1999 7:39 AM Page 427 that all good inductive inferences involve inference to the best explanation; and (c) that it is not a distinctive kind of inference at all, but is rather a special case of enumerative induction. Another controversy concerns the criteria for what makes an explanation best. Simplicity, cognitive fit, and explanatory power have all been suggested as relevant merits, but none of these notions is well understood. Finally, a skeptical problem arises: inference to the best explanation is plausibly involved in both scientific and commonsense knowledge, but it is not clear why the best explanation that occurs to a person is likely to be true. -- inferential knowledge, a kind of “indirect” knowledge, namely, knowledge based on or resulting from inference. Assuming that knowledge is at least true, justified belief, inferential knowledge is constituted by a belief that is justified because it is inferred from certain other beliefs. The knowledge that 7 equals 7 seems non-inferential. We do not infer from anything that 7 equals 7it is obvious and self-evident. The knowledge that 7 is the cube root of 343, in contrast, seems inferential. We cannot know this without inferring it from something else, such as the result obtained when multiplying 7 times 7 times 7. Two sorts of inferential relations may be distinguished. ‘I inferred that someone died because the flag is at half-mast’ may be true because yesterday I acquired the belief about the flag, which caused me to acquire the further belief that someone died. ‘I inferentially believe that someone died because the flag is at halfmast’ may be true now because I retain the belief that someone died and it remains based on my belief about the flag. My belief that someone died is thus either episodically or structurally inferential. The episodic process is an occurrent, causal relation among belief acquisitions. The structural basing relation may involve the retention of beliefs, and need not be occurrent. (Some reserve ‘inference’ for the episodic relation.) An inferential belief acquired on one basis may later be held on a different basis, as when I forget I saw a flag at half-mast but continue to believe someone died because of news reports. That “How do you know?” and “Prove it!” always seem pertinent suggests that all knowledge is inferential, a version of the coherence theory. The well-known regress argument seems to show, however, that not all knowledge can be inferential, which is a version of foundationalism. For if S knows something inferentially, S must infer it correctly from premises S knows to be true. The question whether those premises are also known inferentially begins either an infinite regress of inferences (which is humanly impossible) or a circle of justification (which could not constitute good reasoning). Which sources of knowledge are non-inferential remains an issue even assuming foundationalism. When we see that an apple is red, e.g., our knowledge is based in some manner on the way the apple looks. “How do you know it is red?” can be answered: “By the way it looks.” This answer seems correct, moreover, only if an inference from the way the apple looks to its being red would be warranted. Nevertheless, perceptual beliefs are formed so automatically that talk of inference seems inappropriate. In addition, inference as a process whereby beliefs are acquired as a result of holding other beliefs may be distinguished from inference as a state in which one belief is sustained on the basis of others. Knowledge that is inferential in one way need not be inferential in the other. When it came to rationalityGrice was especially irritated by the adjective ‘theoretical’ as applied to ‘reason’. “Kant was cleverer when he used the metaphorical ‘pure’!” -- theoretical reasonGrice preferred ‘conversational reason.’ “There’s no need to divide reason into pure and impure!’ -- in its traditional sense, a faculty or capacity whose province is theoretical knowledge or inquiry; more broadly, the faculty concerned with ascertaining truth of any kind also sometimes called speculative reason. In Book 6 of his Metaphysics, Aristotle identifies mathematics, physics, and theology as the subject matter of theoretical reason. Theoretical reason is traditionally distinguished from practical reason, a faculty exercised in determining guides to good conduct and in deliberating about proper courses of action. Aristotle contrasts it, as well, with productive reason, which is concerned with “making”: shipbuilding, sculpting, healing, and the like. Kant distinguishes theoretical reason not only from practical reason but also sometimes from the faculty of understanding, in which the categories originate. Theoretical reason, possessed of its own a priori concepts “ideas of reason”, regulates the activities of the understanding. It presupposes a systematic unity in nature, sets the goal for scientific inquiry, and determines the “criterion of empirical truth” Critique of Pure Reason. Theoretical reason, on Kant’s conception, seeks an explanatory “completeness” and an “unconditionedness” of being that transcend what is possible in experience. Reason, as a faculty or capacity, may be regarded as a hybrid composed of theoretical and practical reason broadly construed or as a unity having both theoretical and practical functions. Some commentators take Aristotle to embrace the former conception and Kant the latter. Reason is contrasted sometimes with experience, sometimes with emotion and desire, sometimes with faith. Its presence in human beings has often been regarded as constituting the primary difference between human and non-human animals; and reason is sometimes represented as a divine element in human nature. Socrates, in Plato’s Philebus, portrays reason as “the king of heaven and earth.” Hobbes, in his Leviathan, paints a more sobering picture, contending that reason, “when we reckon it among the faculties of the mind, . . . is nothing but reckoning  that is, adding and subtracting  of the consequences of general names agreed upon for the marking and signifying of our thoughts.” 

 

IN-LUMINATUM: illuminism: d’Alembert, Jean Le Rond, philosopher, and Encyclopedist. According to Grimm, d’Alembert was the prime luminary of the philosophic party. Cf. the French ideologues that influenced Humboldt. An abandoned, illegitimate child, he nonetheless received an outstanding education at the Jansenist Collège des Quatre-Nations in Paris. He read law for a while, tried medicine, and settled on mathematics. In 1743, he published an acclaimed Treatise of Dynamics. Subsequently, he joined the Paris Academy of Sciences and contributed decisive works on mathematics and physics. In 1754, he was elected to the  Academy, of which he later became permanent secretary. In association with Diderot, he launched the Encyclopedia, for which he wrote the epoch-making Discours préliminaire 1751 and numerous entries on science. Unwilling to compromise with the censorship, he resigned as coeditor in 1758. In the Discours préliminaire, d’Alembert specified the divisions of the philosophical discourse on man: pneumatology, logic, and ethics. Contrary to Christian philosophies, he limited pneumatology to the investigation of the human soul. Prefiguring positivism, his Essay on the Elements of Philosophy 1759 defines philosophy as a comparative examination of physical phenomena. Influenced by Bacon, Locke, and Newton, d’Alembert’s epistemology associates Cartesian psychology with the sensory origin of ideas. Though assuming the universe to be rationally ordered, he discarded metaphysical questions as inconclusive. The substance, or the essence, of soul and matter, is unknowable. Agnosticism ineluctably arises from his empirically based naturalism. D’Alembert is prominently featured in D’Alembert’s Dream 1769, Diderot’s dialogical apology for materialism.  Grice’s illuminism“reason enlightens us” Enlightenment, a late eighteenth-century international movement in thought, with important social and political ramifications. The Enlightenment is at once a style, an attitude, a temper  critical, secular, skeptical, empirical, and practical. It is also characterized by core beliefs in human rationality, in what it took to be “nature,” and in the “natural feelings” of mankind. Four of its most prominent exemplars are Hume, Thomas Jefferson, Kant, and Voltaire. The Enlightenment belief in human rationality had several aspects. 1 Human beings are free to the extent that their actions are carried out for a reason. Actions prompted by traditional authority, whether religious or political, are therefore not free; liberation requires weakening if not also overthrow of this authority. 2 Human rationality is universal, requiring only education for its development. In virtue of their common rationality, all human beings have certain rights, among them the right to choose and shape their individual destinies. 3 A final aspect of the belief in human rationality was that the true forms of all things could be discovered, whether of the universe Newton’s laws, of the mind associationist psychology, of good government the U.S. Constitution, of a happy life which, like good government, was “balanced”, or of beautiful architecture Palladio’s principles. The Enlightenment was preeminently a “formalist” age, and prose, not poetry, was its primary means of expression. The Enlightenment thought of itself as a return to the classical ideas of the Grecians and more especially the Romans. But in fact it provided one source of the revolutions that shook Europe and America at the end of the eighteenth century, and it laid the intellectual foundations for both the generally scientific worldview and the liberal democratic society, which, despite the many attacks made on them, continue to function as cultural ideals. 

 

IN-LUSUM: in-nludo -- illusion: Grice: “The etymology of illusion is fascinatinglusion is of course from ludo, game, so ‘inludo’ is the verb we must be look forif you have an illusion, you are ‘playing with yourself’ -- cf. veridical memories, who needs them? hallucination is Grice’s topic.Malcolm argues in Dreaming and Skepticism and in his Dreaming that the notion of a dream qua conscious experience that occurs at a definite time and has definite duration during sleep, is unintelligible. This contradicts the views of philosophers like Descartes (and indeed Moore!), who, Malcolm holds, assume that a human being may have a conscious thought and a conscious experience during sleep. Descartes claims that he had been deceived during sleep. Malcolms point is that ordinary language contrasts consciousness and sleep. The claim that one is conscious while one is sleep-walking is stretching the use of the term. Malcolm rejects the alleged counter-examples based on sleepwalking or sleep-talking, e.g. dreaming that one is climbing stairs while one is actually doing so is not a counter-example because, in such a case, the individual is not sound asleep after all. If a person is in any state of consciousness, it logically follows that he is not sound asleep. The concept of dreaming is based on our descriptions of dreams after we have awakened in telling a dream. Thus, to have dreamt that one has a thought during sleep is not to have a thought any more than to have dreamt that one has climbed Everest is to have climbed Everest. Since one cannot have an experience during sleep, one cannot have a mistaken experience during sleep, thereby undermining the sort of scepticism based on the idea that our experience might be wrong because we might be dreaming. Malcolm further argues that a report of a conscious state during sleep is unverifiable. If Grice claims that he and Strawson saw a big-foot in charge of the reserve desk at the Bodleian library, one can verify that this took place by talking to Strawson and gathering forensic evidence from the library. However, there is no way to verify Grices claim that he dreamed that he and Strawson saw a big-foot working at the Bodleian. Grices only basis for his claim that he dreamt this is that Grice says so after he wakes up. How does one distinguish the case where Grice dreamed that he saw a big-foot working at The Bodleian and the case in which he dreamed that he saw a person in a big-foot suit working at the library but, after awakening, mis-remembered that person in a big-foot suit as a big-foot proper? If Grice should admit that he had earlier mis-reported his dream and that he had actually dreamed he saw a person in a big-foot suit at The Bodleian, there is no more independent verification for this new claim than there was for the original one. Thus, there is, for Malcolm, no sense to the idea of mis-remembering ones dreams. Malcolm here applies one of Witters ideas from his private language argument. One would like to say: whatever is going to seem right to me is right. And that only means that here we cannot talk about right. For a similar reason, Malcolm challenges the idea that one can assign a definite duration or time of occurrence to a dream. If Grice claims that he ran the mile in 3.4 minutes, one could verify this in the usual ways. If, however, Grice says he dreamt that he ran the mile in 3.4 minutes, how is one to measure the duration of his dreamt run? If Grice says he was wearing a stopwatch in the dream and clocked his run at 3.4 minutes, how can one know that the dreamt stopwatch is not running at half speed (so that he really dreamt that he ran the mile in 6.8 minutes)? Grice might argue that a dream report does not carry such a conversational implicatura. But Malcolm would say that just admits the point. The ordinary criteria one uses for determining temporal duration do not apply to dreamt events. The problem in both these cases (Grice dreaming one saw a bigfoot working at The Bodleian and dreaming that he ran the mile in 3.4 minutes) is that there is no way to verify the truth of these dreamt events — no direct way to access that dreamt inner experience, that mysterious glow of consciousness inside the mind of Grice lying comatose on the couch, in order to determine the facts of the matter. This is because, for Malcolm, there are no facts of the matter apart from the report by the dreamer of the dream upon awakening. Malcolm claims that the empirical evidence does not enable one to decide between the view that a dream experience occurs during sleep and the view that they are generated upon the moment of waking up. Dennett agrees with Malcolm that nothing supports the received view that a dream involves a conscious experience while one is asleep but holds that such issues might be settled empirically. Malcolm also argues against the attempt to provide a physiological mark of the duration of a dream, for example, the view that the dream lasted as long as the rapid eye movements. Malcolm replies that there can only be as much precision in that common concept of dreaming as is provided by the common criterion of dreaming. These scientific researchers are misled by the assumption that the provision for the duration of a dream is already there, only somewhat obscured and in need of being made more precise. However, Malcolm claims, it is not already there (in the ordinary concept of dreaming). These scientific views are making radical conceptual changes in the concept of dreaming, not further explaining our ordinary concept of dreaming. Malcolm admits, however, that it might be natural to adopt such scientific views about REM sleep as a convention. Malcolm points out, however, that if REM sleep is adopted as a criterion for the occurrence of a dream, people would have to be informed upon waking up that they had dreamed or not. As Pears observes, Malcolm does not mean to deny that people have dreams in favour of the view that they only have waking dream-behaviour. Of course it is no misuse of language to speak of remembering a dream. His point is that since the concept of dreaming is so closely tied to our concept of waking report of a dreams, one cannot form a coherent concept of this alleged inner (private) something that occurs with a definite duration during sleep. Malcolm rejects a certain philosophical conception of dreaming, not the ordinary concept of dreaming, which, he holds, is neither a hidden private something nor mere outward behaviour.The account of dreaming by Malcolm has come in for considerable criticism. Some argue that Malcolms claim that occurrences in dreams cannot be verified by others does not require the strict criteria that Malcolm proposes but can be justified by appeal to the simplicity, plausibility, and predictive adequacy of an explanatory system as a whole. Some argue that Malcolms account of the sentence I am awake is inconsistent. A comprehensive programme in considerable detail has been offered for an empirical scientific investigation of dreaming of the sort that Malcolm rejects. Others have proposed various counterexamples and counter arguments against dreaming by Malcolm. Grices emphasis is in Malcolms easy way out with statements to the effect that implicatura do or do not operate in dream reports. They do in mine! Grice considers, I may be dreaming in the two essays opening the Part II: Explorations on semantics and metaphysics in WOW. Cf. Urmson on ‘delusion’ in ‘Parentheticals’ as ‘conceptually impossible.’ Refs.: The main reference is Grice’s essay on ‘Dreaming,’ but there are scattered references in his treatment of Descartes, and “The causal theory of perception” (henceforth, “Causal theory”), The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

 

IMITATVM -- Imago -- imaginatumimagofrom “imago”imago) "copy, imitation, likeness; statue, picture," also "phantom, ghost, apparition," figuratively "idea, appearance," from stem of imitari "to copy, imitate" (from PIE root *aim- "to copy"). The root of ‘imago’ is cognate with that of ‘emulate,’ aemulatumand the verb is under imitor -- Discussed by Grice in “Vacuous Names.” A population may imagine that a certain expeditioner, Marmaduke Bloggs, climbed Mt. Everest on hands and knees. He is the imaginatum.  imagination: referred to by Grice in “Prolegomena”the rabbit that looks like a duck -- the mental faculty sometimes thought to encompass all acts of thinking about something novel, contrary to fact, or not currently perceived; thus: “Imagine that Lincoln had not been assassinated,” or “Use your imagination to create a new design for roller skates.” ‘Imagination’ also denotes an important perception-like aspect of some such thoughts, so that to imagine something is to bring to mind what it would be like to perceive it. Philosophical theories of imagination must explain its apparent intentionality: when we imagine, we always imagine something. Imagination is always directed toward an object, even though the object may not exist. Moreover, imagination, like perception, is often seen as involving qualia, or special subjective properties that are sometimes thought to discredit materialist, especially functionalist, theories of mind. The intentionality of imagination and its perceptual character lead some theories to equate imagination with “imaging”: being conscious of or perceiving a mental image. However, because the ontological status of such images and the nature of their properties are obscure, many philosophers have rejected mental images in favor of an adverbial theory on which to imagine something red is best analyzed as imagining “redly.” Such theories avoid the difficulties associated with mental images, but must offer some other way to account for the apparent intentionality of imagination as well as its perceptual character. Imagination, in the hands of Husserl and Sartre, becomes a particularly apt subject for phenomenology. It is also cited as a faculty that idols of the cave imagination 417 4065h-l.qxd 08/02/1999 7:39 AM Page 417 separates human thought from any form of artificial intelligence. Finally, imagination often figures prominently in debates about possibility, in that what is imaginable is often taken to be coextensive with what is possible.

 

IN-MANENS -- anens, a term most often used in contrast to ‘transcendence’ to express the way in which God is thought to be present in the world. The most extreme form of immanence is expressed in pantheism, which identifies God’s substance either partly or wholly with the world. In contrast to pantheism, Judaism and Christianity hold God to be a totally separate substance from the world. In Christianity, the separateness of God’s substance from that of the world is guaranteed by the doctrine of creation ex nihilo. Aquinas held that God is in the world as an efficient cause is present to that on which it acts. Thus, God is present in the world by continuously acting on it to preserve it in existence. Perhaps the weakest notion of immanence is expressed in eighteenth- and nineteenthcentury deism, in which God initially creates the world and institutes its universal laws, but is basically an absentee landlord, exercising no providential activity over its continuing history.

 

INTER-PRETATVM -- interpretatum: h “While ‘heremneia’ sounds poetic and sweet, ‘interpretatio’ sounds thomistic and rough!”H. P. Grice. “Plus ‘hermeneia is metaphorical.’ hermeneia: hermeneutics, the art or theory of interpretation, as well as a type of philosophy that starts with questions of interpretation. Originally concerned more narrowly with interpreting sacred texts, the term acquired a much broader significance in its historical development and finally became a philosophical position in twentieth-century G. philosophy. There are two competing positions in hermeneutics: whereas the first follows Dilthey and sees interpretation or Verstehen as a method for the historical and human sciences, the second follows Heidegger and sees it as an “ontological event,” an interaction between interpreter and text that is part of the history of what is understood. Providing rules or criteria for understanding what an author or native “really” meant is a typical problem for the first approach. The interpretation of the law provides an example for the second view, since the process of applying the law inevitably transforms it. In general, hermeneutics is the analysis of this process and its conditions of possibility. It has typically focused on the interpretation of ancient texts and distant peoples, cases where the unproblematic everyday understanding and communication cannot be assumed. Schleiermacher’s analysis of understanding and expression related to texts and speech marks the beginning of hermeneutics in the modern sense of a scientific methodology. This emphasis on methodology continues in nineteenth-century historicism and culminates in Dilthey’s attempt to ground the human sciences in a theory of interpretation, understood as the imaginative but publicly verifiable reenactment of the subjective experiences of others. Such a method of interpretation reveals the possibility of an objective knowledge of human beings not accessible to empiricist inquiry and thus of a distinct methodology for the human sciences. One result of the analysis of interpretation in the nineteenth century was the recognition of “the hermeneutic circle,” first developed by Schleiermacher. The circularity of interpretation concerns the relation of parts to the whole: the interpretation of each part is dependent on the interpretation of the whole. But interpretation is circular in a stronger sense: if every interpretation is itself based on interpretation, then the circle of interpretation, even if it is not vicious, cannot be escaped. Twentieth-century hermeneutics advanced by Heidegger and Gadamer radicalize this notion of the hermeneutic circle, seeing it as a feature of all knowledge and activity. Hermeneutics is then no longer the method of the human sciences but “universal,” and interpretation is part of the finite and situated character of all human knowing. “Philosophical hermeneutics” therefore criticizes Cartesian foundationalism in epistemology and Enlightenment universalism in ethics, seeing science as a cultural practice and prejudices or prejudgments as ineliminable in all judgments. Positively, it emphasizes understanding as continuing a historical tradition, as well as dialogical openness, in which prejudices are challenged and horizons broadened. 

 

IN-PERATVM -- imperatumWhile of course there is a verb in the infinitive for this, Grice prefers the past participle“It’s so diaphanous!” -- This starts with the Greeks, who had the klesis porstktike, modus imperativus. But then, under the modus subjunctives, the Romans added the modus prohibitivus. So this is interesting, because it seems that most of Grice’s maxims are ‘prohibitions’: “Do not say what you believe to be false.” “Do not that for which you lack adequate evidence.” And some while formally in the ‘affirmative,’ look prohibitive with ‘negative-loaded’ verbs like ‘avoid ambiguity,’ etc. hile an imperatus, m. is a command, ‘imperatum’ refers, diaphanously, to what is commanded. “Impero” is actually a derivation from the intensive “in-“ and the “paro,” as in “prepare,” “Paratum” would thus reflect the ssame cognateness with ‘imperatum.”  Modus imperativus -- imperative mode: At one point, Grice loved the “psi,” Actions are alright, but we need to stop at the psi level. The emissor communicates that the addressee thinks that the emissor has propositional attitude psi. No need to get into the logical form of action. One can just do with the logical form of a ‘that’-clause in the ascription of a state of the soul. This should usually INVOLVE an action, as in Hare, “The door is shut, please.” like Hare, Grice loves an imperative. In this essay, Grice attempts an exploration of the logical form of Kant’s concoction. Grice is especially irritated by the ‘the.’ ‘They speak of Kant’s categorical imperative, when he cared to formulate a few versions of it!” Grice lists them all in Abbott’s version. There are nine of them!  Grice is interested in the conceptual connection of the categorical imperative with the hypothetical or suppositional imperative, in terms of the type of connection between the protasis and the apodosis. Grice spends the full second Carus lecture on the conception of value on this. Grice is aware that the topic is central to Oxonian philosophers such as Hare, a member of Austin’s Play Group, too, who regard the universability of an imperative as a mark of its categoricity, and indeed, moral status. Grice chose some of the Kantian terminology on purpose.Grice would refer to this or that ‘conversational maxim.’A ‘conversational maxim’ contributes to what Grice jocularly refers to as the ‘conversational immanuel.’But there is an admission test.The ‘conversational maxim’ has to be shown that, qua items under an overarching principle of conversational helpfulness, the maxim displays a quality associated with conceptual, formal, and applicational generality. Grice never understood what Kant meant by the categoric imperative. But for Grice, from the acceptability of the the immanuel you can deduce the acceptability of this or that maxim, and from the acceptability of the conversational immanuel, be conversationally helpful, you can deduce the acceptability of this or that convesational maxim. Grice hardly considered Kants approach to the categoric imperative other than via the universability of this or that maxim. This or that conversational maxim, provided by Grice, may be said to be universalisable if and only if it displays what Grice sees as these three types of generality: conceptual, formal, and applicational. He does the same for general maxims of conduct. The results are compiled in a manual of universalisable maxims, the conversational immanuel, an appendix to the general immanuel. The other justification by Kant of the categoric imperative involve an approach other than the genitorial justification, and an invocation of autonomy and freedom. It is the use by Plato of imperative as per categoric imperative that has Grice expanding on modes other than the doxastic, to bring in the buletic, where the categoric imperative resides. Note that in the end Kant DOES formulate the categoric imperative, as Grice notes, as a real imperative, rather than a command, etc. Grice loved Kant, but he loved Kantotle best. In the last Kant lecture, he proposes to define the categorical imperative as a counsel of prudence, with a protasis Let Grice be happy. The derivation involves eight stages! Grice found out that out of his play-group activities with this or that linguistic nuance he had arrived at the principle, or imperative of conversational helpfulness, indeed formulated as an imperative: Make your contribution such as is required, at the stage at which it occurs, by the accepted purpose of the conversation in which you are engaged. He notes that the rationality behind the idea of conversation as rational co-operation does not preclude seeing rationality in conversation as other than cooperation. The fact that he chooses maxim, and explicitly echoes Kant, indicates where Grice is leading! An exploration on Paton on the categorical imperative. Grice had previously explored the logical form of hypothetical or suppositional imperatives in the Kant (and later Locke) lectures, notably in Lecture IV, Further remarks on practical and alethic reasons. Here he considers topics related to Hares tropic-clistic neustic-phrastic quartet. What does it mean to say that a command is conditional? The two successors of Grices post as Tutorial Fellow at St. Johns, Baker Hacker, will tackle the same issue with humour, in Sense and nonsense, published by Blackwell (too irreverent to be published by the Clarendon). Is the logical form of a maxim, .p⊃!q, or !(.p ⊃.q), etc. Kant thought that there is a special sub-class of hypothetical or suppositional  imperative (which he called a counsels of prudence) which is like his class of technical imperative, except in that the end specified in a full specfication of the imperative is the special end of eudæmonia (the agents eudæmonia). For Grice, understanding Kant’s first version of the categorical imperative involves understanding what a maxim is supposed to be. Grice explores at some length four alternative interpretations of an iffy buletic (as opposed to a non-iffy buletic): three formal, one material. The first interpretation is the horseshoe interpretation. A blind logical nose might lead us or be led to the assumption of a link between a buletically iffy utterance and a doxastically iffy utterance. Such a link no doubt exists, but the most obvious version of it is plainly inadequate. At least one other philosopher besides Grice has noticed that If he torments the cat, have him arrested! is unlikely to express an buletically iffy utterance, and that even if one restricts oneself to this or that case in which the protasis specifies a will, we find pairs of examples like If you will to go to Oxford, travel by AA via Richmond! or If you will to go to Cambridge, see a psychiatrist! where it is plain that one is, and the other is not, the expression of a buletically iffy utterance. For fun, Grice does not tell which! A less easily eliminable suggestion, yet one which would still interprets the notion of a buletically iffy utterance in terms of that particular logical form to which if, hypothetical or suppositional  and conditional attach, would be the following. Let us assume that it is established, or conceded, as legitimate to formulate an if utterance in which not only the apodosis is couched in some mode other than the doxastic, as in this or that conditional command. If you see the whites of their eyes, shoot fire! but also the protasis or some part (clause) of them. In which case all of the following might be admissible conditionals. Thus, we might have a doxastic protasis (If the cat is sick, take it to the vet), or a mixed (buletic-cum-doxastic protasis (If you are to take the cat to the vet and theres no cage available, put it on Marthas lap!), and buletic protasis (If you are to take the cat to the vet, put it in a cage!). If this suggestion seems rebarbative, think of this or that quaint if utterance (when it is quaint) as conditionalised versions of this or that therefore-sequence, such as: buletic-cum-doxastic premises (Take the cat to the vet! There t a cage. Therefore; Put the cat on Marthas lap!), buletic premise (Take the cat to the vet! Put it in a cage!). And then, maybe, the discomfort is reduced. Grice next considers a second formal interpretation or approach to the buletically iffy/non-iffy utterance. Among if utterances with a buletic apodosis some will have, then, a mixed doxastic-cum buletic protasis (partly doxastic, partly buletic), and some will have a purely doxastic protasis (If the cat is sick, take him to the vet!). Grice proposes a definition of the iffy/non-iffy distinction. A buletically iffy utterance is an iffy utterance the apodosis of which is buletic and the protasis of which is buletic or mixed (buletic-cum-dxastic) or it is an elliptical version of such an iffy utterance. A buletically non-iffy utterance is a buletic utterance which is not iffy or else, if it is iffy, has a purely doxastic protasis. Grice makes three quick comments on this second interpretation. First, re: a real imperative. The structures which are being offered as a way of interpreting an iffy and a non-iffy  imperative do not, as they stand, offer any room for the appearance this or that buletic modality like ought and should which are so prominently visible in the standard examples of those kinds of imperatives. The imperatives suggested by Grice are explicit imperatives. An explicit buletic utterance is Do such-and-such! and not You ought to do such and such or, worse, One ought to do such and such. Grice thinks, however, that one can modify this suggestion to meet the demand for the appearance or occurrence of ought (etc) if such occurrence is needed. Second, it would remain to be decided how close the preferred reading of Grices deviant conditional imperatives would be to the accepted interpretation of standard hypothetical or suppositional imperatives. But even if there were some divergence that might be acceptable if the new interpretation turns out to embody a more precise notion than the standard conception. Then theres the neustical versus tropical protases. There are, Grice thinks, serious doubts of the admissibility of conditionals with a NON-doxastic protasis, which are for Grice connected with the very difficult question whether the doxastic and the buletic modes are co-ordinate or whether the doxastic mode is in some crucial fashion (but not in other) prior (to use Suppess qualification) to the buletic. Grice confesses he does not know the answer to that question. A third formal interpretation links the iffy/non-iffy distinction to the absolute-relative value distinction. An iffy imperatives would be end-relative and might be analogous to an evidence-relative probability. A non-iffy imperatives would not be end-relative. Finally, a fourth Interpretation is not formal, but material. This is close to part of what Kant says on the topic. It is a distinction between an imperative being escapable (iffy), through the absence of a particular will and its not being escapable (non-iffy). If we understand the idea of escabability sufficiently widely, the following imperatives are all escapable, even though their logical form is not in every case the same: Give up popcorn!, To get slim, give up popcorn!, If you will to get slim, give up popcorn! Suppose Grice has no will to get slim. One might say that the first imperative (Give up popcorn!) is escaped, provided giving up popcorn has nothing else to recommend it, by falsifying You should give up popcorn. The second and the third imperatives (To get slim, give up pocorn! and If you will to get slim, give up popcorn!) would not, perhaps, involve falsification but they would, in the circumstances, be inapplicable to Griceand inapplicability, too, counts, as escape. A non-iffy imperative however, is in no way escapable. Re: the Dynamics of Imperatives in Discourse, Grice then gives three examples which he had discussed in “Aspects,” which concern arguments (or therefore-chains). This we may see as an elucidation to grasp the logical form of buletically iffy utterance (elided by the therefore, which is an if in the metalanguage) in its dynamics in argumentation. We should, Grice suggests, consider not merely imperatives of each sort, together with the range of possible characterisations, but also the possible forms of argument into which_particular_ hypothetical or suppositional imperatives might enter. Consider: Defend the Philosophy Department! If you are to defend the philosophy department, learn to use bows and arrows! Therefore, learn to use bows and arrows! Grice says he is using the dichotomy of original-derived value. In this example, in the first premise, it is not specified whether the will is original or derived, the second premise specifies conducive to (means), and the conclusion would involve a derived will, provided the second premise is doxastically satisfactory. Another example would be: Fight for your country! If you are to fight for your country, join up one of the services! Therefore, join up! Here, the first premise and the conclusion do not specify the protasis. If the conclusion did, it would repeat the second premise. Then theres Increase your holdings in oil shares! If you visit your father, hell give you some oil shares. Therefore, visit your father! This argument (purportedly) transmits value. Let us explore these characterisations by Grice with the aid of Hares distinctions. For Hare in a hypothetical or suppositional imperative, the protasis contains a neustic-cum-tropic. A distinction may be made between this or that hypothetical or suppositional imperative and a term used by Grice in his first interpretation of the hypothetical or suppositional imperative, that of conditional command (If you see the whites of their eyes, shoot fire!). A hypothetical or suppositional imperative can be distinguished from a conditional imperative (If you want to make bread, use yeast! If you see anything suspicious, telephone the police!) by the fact that modus ponens is not valid for it. One may use hypothetical, suppositional or conditional imperative for a buletic utterance which features if, and reserve conditional command for a command which is expressed by an imperative, and which is conditional on the satisfaction of the protasis. Thus, on this view, treating the major premise of an argument as a hypothetical or suppositional imperative turns the therefore-chain invalid. Consider the sequence with the major premise as a hypothetical or suppositional imperative. If you will to make someone mad, give him drug D! You will to make Peter mad; therefore, give Peter drug D! By uttering this hypothetical or suppositional imperative, the utterer tells his addressee A only what means to adopt to achieve a given end in  a way which does not necessarily endorse the adoption of that end, and hence of the means to it. Someone might similarly say, if you will to make someone mad, give him drug D! But, of course, even if you will to do that, you must not try to do so. On the other hand, the following is arguably valid because the major premise is a conditional imperative and not a mere hypothetical or suppositional one. We have a case of major premise as a conditional imperative: You will to make someone mad, give him drug D! Make Peter mad! Therefore, give Peter drug D!. We can explain this in terms of the presence of the neustic in the antecedent of the imperative working as the major premise. The supposition that the protasis of a hypothetical or suppositional imperative contains a clause in the buletic mode neatly explains why the argument with the major premise as a hypothetical or suppositional imperative is not valid. But the argument with the major premise as a conditional imperative is, as well as helping to differentiate a suppositional or hypothetical or suppositional iffy imperative from a conditional iffy imperative. For, if the protasis of the major premise in the hypothetical or suppositional imperative is volitival, the mere fact that you will to make Peter mad does not license the inference of the imperative to give him the drug; but this _can_ be inferred from the major premise of the hypothetical or suppositional imperative together with an imperative, the minor premise in the conditional imperative, to make Peter mad. Whether the subordinate clause contains a neustic thus does have have a consequence as to the validity of inferences into which the complex sentence enters. Then theres an alleged principle of mode constancy in buletic and and doxastic inference. One may tries to elucidate Grices ideas on the logical form of the hypothetical or suppositional imperative proper. His suggestion is, admittedly, rather tentative. But it might be argued, in the spirit of it, that an iffy imperative is of the form ((!p⊃!q) Λ .p)) ∴ !q But this violates a principle of mode constancy. A phrastic must remain in the same mode (within the scope of the same tropic) throughout an argument. A conditional imperative does not violate the principle of Modal Constancy, since it is of the form ((p⊃!q) Λ !p)) ∴ !q The question of the logical form of the hypothetical or suppositional  imperative is too obscure to base much on arguments concerning it. There is an alternative to Grices account of the validity of an argument featuring a conditional imperative.  This is to treat the major premise of a conditional imperative, as some have urged it should be as a doxastic utterance tantamount to In order to make someone mad, you have to give him drug D.  Then an utterer who explicitly conveys or asserts the major premise of a conditional imperative and commands the second premise is in consistency committed to commanding the conclusion. If does not always connect phrastic with phrastic but sometimes connects two expressions consisting of a phrastic and a tropic. Consider: If you walk past the post office, post the letter! The antecedent of this imperative states, it seems, the condition under which the imperative expressed becomes operative, and so can not be construed buletically, since by uttering a buletic utterance, an utterer cannot explicitly convey or assert that a condition obtains. Hence, the protasis ought not be within the scope of the buletic !, and whatever we take to represent the form of the utterance above we must not take !(if p, q) to do so. One way out. On certain interpretation of the isomorphism or æqui-vocality Thesis between Indicative and Imperative Inference the utterance has to be construed as an imperative (in the generic reading)  to make the doxasatic conditional If you will walk past the post office,  you will post the letter satisfactory. Leaving aside issues of the implicaturum of if, that the utterance can not be so construed  seems to be shown by the fact that the imperative to make the associated doxastically iffy utterance satisfactory is conformed with by one who does not walk past the post office. But it seems strange at best to say that the utterance is conformed with in the same circumstances. This strangeness or bafflingliness, as Grice prefers, is aptly explained away in terms of the implicaturum. At Oxford, Dummett is endorsing this idea that a conditional imperative be construed as an imperative to make an indicative if utterance true. Dummett urges to divide conditional imperatives into those whose antecedent is within the power of the addressee, like the utterance in question, and those in which it is not. Consider: If you go out, wear your coat! One may be not so much concerned with how to escape this, as Grice is, but how to conform it. A child may choose not to go out in order to comply with the imperative. For an imperative whose protasis is_not_ within the power of the addressee (If anyone tries to escape, shoot him!) it is indifferent whether we treat it as a conditional imperative or not, so why bother. A small caveat here. If no one tries to escape, the imperative is *not violated*. One might ask, might there not be an important practical difference bewteen saying that an imperative has not been violated and that it has been complied with? Dummett ignores this distinction. One may feel think there is much of a practical difference there. Is Grice an intuitionist? Suppose that you are a frontier guard and the antecedent has remained unfulfilled. Then, whether we say that you complied with it, or simply did not *violate* it will make a great deal of difference if you appear before a war crimes tribunal.  For Dummett, the fact that in the case of an imperative expressed by a conditional imperative in which the antecedent is not within the agents power, we should *not* say that the agent had obeyed just on the ground that the protassi is false, is no ground for construing an imperative as expressing a conditional command: for there is no question of fixing what shall constitute obedience independently of the determination of what shall constitute disobedience. This complicates the issues. One may with Grice (and Hare, and Edgley) defend imperative inference against other Oxonian philosophers, such as Kenny or Williams. What is questioned by the sceptics about imperative inference is whether if each one of a set of imperatives is used with the force of a command, one can infer a _further_ imperative with that force from them. Cf. Wiggins on Aristotle on the practical syllogism. One may be more conservative than Hare, if not Grice. Consider If you stand by Jane, dont look at her! You stand by Jane; therefore, dont look at her! This is valid. However, the following, obtained by anti-logism, is not: If you stand by Jane, dont look at her! Look at her! Therefore, you dont stand by Jane. It may seem more reasonable to some to deny Kants thesis, and maintain that anti-logism is valid in imperative inference than it is to hold onto Kants thesis and deny that antilogism is valid in the case in question. Then theres the question of the implicatura involved in the ordering of modes. Consider: Varnish every piece of furniture you make! You are going to make a table; therefore, varnish it! This is prima facie valid. The following, however, switching the order of the modes in the premises is not. You are going to varnish every piece of furniture that you make. Make a table! Therefore; varnish it! The connection between the if and the therefore is metalinguistic, obviouslythe validity of the therefore chain is proved by the associated if that takes the premise as, literally, the protasis and the consequence as the apodosis.  Conversational Implicaturum at the Rescue. Problems with or: Consider Rosss infamous example: Post the letter! Therefore, post the letter or burn it! as invalid, Rossand endorsed at Oxford by Williams. To permit to do p or q is to permit to do p and to permit to do q. Similarly, to give permission to do something is to lift a prohibition against doing it. Admittedly, Williams does not need this so we are stating his claim more strongly than he does. One may review Grices way out (defense of the validity of the utterance above in terms of the implicaturum. Grice claims that in Rosss infamous example (valid, for Grice), whilst (to state it roughly) the premises permissive presupposition (to use the rather clumsy term introduced by Williams) is entailed by it, the conclusions is only conversationally implicated. Typically for an isomorphist, Grice says this is something shared by indicative inferences. If, being absent-minded, Grice asks his wife, What have I done with the letter? And she replies, You have posted it or burnt it, she conversationally implicates that she is not in a position to say which Grice has done. She also conversationally implicates that Grice may not have post it, so long as he has burnt it. Similarly, the future tense indicative, You are going to post the letter has the conversational implicaturum You may be not going to post the letter so long as you are going to burn it.  But this surely does not validate the introduction rule for OR, to wit:  p; therefore, p or q. One can similarly, say: Eclipse will win. He may not, of course, if it rains. And I *know* it will *not* rain. Problems with and. Consider: Put on your parachute AND jump out! Therefore, jump out! Someone who _only_ jumps out of an æroplane does not fulfil Put on your parachute and jump out!  He has done only what is necessary, but not sufficient to fulfil it.  Imperatives do not differ from indicatives in this respect, except that fulfilment takes the place of belief or doxa, which is the form of acceptance apprpriate to a doxasatic utterance, as the Names implies.  Someone who is told Smith put on his parachute AND jumped out is entitled to believe that Smith jumped out. But if he believes that this is _all_ Smith did he is in error (Cf. Edgley). One may discuss Grices test of cancellability in the case of the transport officer who says: Go via Coldstream or Berwick! It seems the transport officers way of expressing himself is extremely eccentric, or conversationally baffling, as Grice prefersyet validly. If the transport officer is not sure if a storm may block one of the routes, what he should say is _Prepare_ to go via Coldstream or Berwick! As for the application of Grices test of explicit cancellation here, it yield, in the circumstances, the transport officer uttering Go either via Coldstream or Berwick!  But you may not go via Coldstream if you do not go via Berwick, and you may not go via Berwick if you do not go via Coldstream. Such qualifications  ‒ what Grice calls explicit cancellation of the implicaturum  ‒ seem to the addressee to empty the buletic mode of utterance of all content and is thus reminiscent of Henry Fords utterance to the effect that people can choose what colour car they like provided it is black. But then Grice doesnt think Ford is being illogical, only Griceian and implicatural! Grice was fascinated by “if” clauses in mode other than the indicative: “if the cat is on the mat, she is purring.” “If the cat had been, make her purr!” etc. He spent years at Clifton mastering thisonly to have Ayer telling him at Oxford he didn’t need it! “I won’t take that!” -- Refs.: There is at least one essay just about the categorical imperative, but there are scattered references wherever Grice considers the mood markers, The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

 

IN-PLICATVM. Grice: “It is obvious that the Romans used this creatively, ‘plico in,’ ‘in-plico.’ The assimilation of the ‘n’ into ‘m’ before ‘p’ is only vugar!” -- IN-PLICATVRVM -- implicaturum: Grice, “Fortunately, philosophy’s main verb, “to imply,” ‘implicare,’ is like amare, perfectly regular.. So we have implicans, who is the utterer or his utterance, the implicaturum, which is the utterance that implies in the future, and the impilicatumBy way of nominalization, or what I call subjectification or category shift we do have ‘impliatura,’ qua nounBut surely ‘implicatura’ qua feminine noun should be distinguished from the non-categorially shifted ‘implicatura’ as plural of ‘implicaturum.’ There is no category shift in thinking of an expression as a vehicle of an ‘implicatum’. This vehicle is the implicaturum when seen as the expression itself. The utterer is the implicans. And then there’s the ‘implicandtum.’ Similarly, in definition, we speak of definiens and definiendumdefiniturumThe definies is what defines. This applies strictly to the ‘definer’the human being. The definiturum if in plural applies to the expression that defines, -- when in masculine, definiturus, it applies to the definer. Similarly we may say that he who is implies is an IMPLIER, or an IMPLICATURUS. We do speak of a professor as being ‘a great explicator.’ So we shoud speak of myself as a great implicator. in his Oxford seminars. Grice: “I distinguish between the ‘implicaturum’ and the ‘implicaturum.’” “The ‘implicaturum’ corresponds to Moore’s entailment.” “For the ‘pragmatic-type’ of thing, one should use ‘implicaturum.’” “The –aturum’ form is what at Clifton I learned as the future, and a ‘future’ twist it has, since it refers to the future.” “ ‘Implicaturum esse’ is, strictly, the infinitivum futurum, made out of the ‘esse’ plus the ‘indicaturum.’ We loved these things at Clifton!”  a pragmatic relation different from, but easily confused with, the semantic relation of entailment. This concept was first identified, explained, and used by H. P. Grice (Studies in the Way of Words, 1989). Grice identified two main types of implicaturum, conventional and non-conventional (including conversational). An emisor is said to conversationally implicate that p in uttering x, provided that, although p is NOT logically implied by what the emisor explicitly communicates, the assumption that the emisor is attempting cooperative communication warrants inferring that the emisor is communicating that p. If Grice utters “There is a garage around the corner” in response to Strawson’s saying, “I am out of gas,” Grice conversationally implicates that the garage is open and has gas to sell. Grice identifies several conversational maxims to which cooperative conversationalists may be expected to conform, and which justify inferences about what the emisor implicates. In the above example, the implicaturums are due to the maxim of conversational relevance. Another important maxim is the maxim of conversational fortitude  (“Make your contribution as informatively strong as is required”). Among implicatura due to the Maxim of conversational fortitude is the scalar implicaturum, wherein the utterance contains an element that is part of a quantitative scale. Utterance of such a sentence conversationally implicates that the emisor does not believe related propositions higher on the scale of conversational fortitude or informativeness. E. g. an emisor who says, “Some of the zoo animals escaped,” implies that he does not believe that that most of the zoo animals escaped, or that every animal of the zoo animals escaped. Unlike a conversational implicaturum, a conventional implicaturum is due solely to the semantics of the expression. An emisor is said by Grice to conventionally imply that p, if the semantics of the expression commits the emisor to p, even though what the emisor explicitly communicates does not entail that p. Thus, uttering, as the Tommies did during the Great War, “She was poor but she was honest” a Tommy implicates, but does not explicitly convey, that there is a contrast between her poverty and her honesty.  Grice fought with this. It’s a term of art, and he mainly wants to avoid, fastidiously, equivocation. “I say fastidiously because at Oxford, fewHare is one of themfollowed suit --. Most stuck with ‘implicatio.’  “So, if we stick with Roman, we have ‘implicatio.’ This gives English ‘implication,’ because the Anglo-Norman nominative proceeded via the Roman accusative, i. e. ‘implicationem.’ The use of –ure is also Anglo-Norman, for Roman ‘-ura.’ So we have ‘implicatura,’ and in Anglo-Norman, ‘implicature.’ ‘Implicatio’ is a feminine noun, and so is ‘implicatura.’ ‘Implicatio’ is a ‘active voice’ noun; so is ‘implicatura.’ The Roman allows for a correlative neuter to the past participle, ‘implicatum,’ or ‘implicitum’ (there are vowel alternation here). So, the two neuter correlative active forms for the two neuter passive perfect forms, ‘implicatum’ and ‘implicitum’ are ‘implicaturum’ and ‘impliciturum.’ Kneale has expanded on the use of ‘implicans.’ If ‘implicans’ is the active PRESENT participle for ‘implicare,’ ‘implicaturum’ is the active FUTURE participle. There is no need to specify the vehicle, as per Kneale, ‘propositio implicans,’ ‘propositio implicata’Since ‘implicatura’ is definitely constructed out of the active-voice future participle, we should have in fact a trio, where the two second items get two variants, each: the implicans, the implicaturum/impliciturum, and the implicatum/implicitum. Note that in the present participle, the vowel alternation does not apply: there’s ‘implicans’ (masculine, feminine, and neuter) only, which then yields, in the neuter forms, the future, ‘implicaturum’/’impliciturum,’ and the perfect, ‘implicatum’/’implicitum.’ The same for ‘explicare’: explicatio, explicatura, -- explicans, yielding explicaturum/expliciturm, explicatum/explciitum. Note that when I speak of what is seen, ‘see’ being diaphanous, I refer to ‘visum,’ what is seen.There is no need, and in fact it is best not to, spceficy the vehicle. The Romans used the neuter, singular, for each case --.”  “If I were serious about ‘implicature’ being feminine, I would speak of the ‘implicata’ as a singular form, but I do not. I use ‘implicatum,’ what is impliedand use ‘implicata’ as plural neuter. Since an implicatum is usually indeterminate, it’s best to refer to the plural, ‘implicata’Ditto for the ‘implicaturum,’ which becomes, in the plural, ‘implicatura.’the vehicles are various in that stress, emphasis, context, all change the vehicle, somehow --. Implicatio then is like ‘conceptio,’ it is an abstract form (strictly feminine) that has a process-producti ambiguity that the neuter family: implicans, implicaturum/impliciturm, implicatum/implicitum avoids. Note that while –ure form in Anglo-Norman does not derive from the accusative, as ‘implication,’ does hence no accusative nasal ‘n’ (of ‘implicatioN,’ but not ‘implicatio’) in ‘implicature.’ The fact that the Anglo-Normans confused it all by turning this into ‘employ,’ and ‘imply’ should not deter the Oxonian for his delightful coinages!” Active Nominal Forms Infinitive: implicā́re Present participle: implicāns; implicántis Future participle: implicītúrus; implicātúrus Gerund: implicándum Gerundive: implicándus Passive Nominal Forms Infinitive: implicā́re Perfect participle: implicī́tum; implicā́tum. implicitura (Latin Dictionary)  lemma part voice mood tense gender number case implicare verb active participle future feminine singularnominative ablative vocative lemma part voice mood tense gender number case implicare verb active participle future neuter plural nominative accusative vocative INFLECTION Temporal inflection presentmasculine implicans futuremasculine impliciturus / implicaturus presentfeminine implicans futurefeminine implicitura / implicatura presentneuter implicans futureneuter impliciturum / implicaturum. De camptgii , vel eampacis dicemus inlra in vita Galheni apud TtebeUtum Pollionem, ratdeiorum cajcci ISc imperatotum ita vocabantur , non "gamba," vel  "campa," qua pro crure pofteriores wfuipatunt, quod crure tenus calcea xeniui: id k corrigiarum flexuris, & implicaturis , quibus circumligabantur. lologiae et Mercurii di Marziano Capella (I 68), e avanza una nuova ipotesi di ... naculis implicaturis in retia sua praecipites implagabuntur, syllogismis tuae pro- ... miliae suae longo ordine ac multis stemmatum inligata flexuris in parte prima. It may be argued that when Grice compares ‘impicature’ to “the ‘implying,’ that’s a feminine form, cognate with German/Dutch, -ung. Cf. Grice, “The conception of value”The conceiving of value,” the concept of value, the conceptus of value, the conceptum of value. Active Nominal Forms Present participle: cōncipiēns; cōncipiéntis Future participle: cōnceptúrus Passive Nominal Forms Perfect participle: cōnceptum. Since Grice plays with this in “Conception of value,” let’s compare. “Grice: “It is worth comparing ‘to conceive’ with ‘to employ’.” Active present participle: implicansconcipiens, concipientis --. Active future participle: implicaturum/impliciturm, concepturus --. Passive perfect participle: implicatum/implicitumconceptum. Hardie would ask, “what do you mean ‘of’?”The implication of implication. The conception of value. In an objective (passive) interpretation: it’s the conceptum of ‘value’. In a subjective (active) interpretion, it’s the ‘conceiving’ of ‘value.’ Cfr. “the love of god,” “the fear of the enemy.” “The implication of implication.” For Grice, it’s the SENDER who implicates, a rational agentalthough he may allow for an expression to ‘imply’via connotation --, and provided the sender does, or would occasionally do. In terms of the subjective/active, and objective/passive distinction, we would have, ‘implication,’ as in Strawson’s implication, meaning Strawson’s ‘implying’ (originally a feminine noun), i. e. Strawson’s ‘implicatio’ and Strawson’s ‘implicatura’, and Strawson’s ‘implicature,’ and Strawson’s ‘implicaturum’/’impliciturm.’ In terms of the passive/objective realm, what is implied by Strawsonthe implicatum, and the implicitum. There passive interpretation allows for only one form (with two vowel alternates): implicatum and implicitum. The active forms can be present: ‘implicans’ and ‘implicaturum’. If it’s Strawson the ‘implier’implicans is ‘masculine.’ If it’s Strawson the one about to imply, it’s “Strawson implicaturus” --. By use of the genitive“Ciceronis” we would have, “implicatura Ciceronis”Cicero’s implicature --, Cicero the implier, Cicero implicans --. Surely Cicero did something to imply. This ‘something’ is best conceived in the neuter, ‘implicans,’ as applied, say, to sententia, or propositio‘propositio implicans‘sententia implicans’‘implicatura’ would refer to the act of implyingas the conceiving of value --. Since ‘implicatura’ is formed out of the future participle, its corresponding form in the neuter would be ‘implicaturum.’ By his handwave (implicaturum/implicitumqua vehicle of Cicero’s implicatureor implicaturahis act of implying), Cicero (implicans) implies (implicat) this or that ‘implicatum’ or ‘implicitum.’ Or, Grice’s implication. Grice makes an important distinction which he thinks Austin doesn’t make because what a philosopher EXPLICITLY conveys and what he IMPLICITLY conveys. It was only a few years Grice was interacting philosophically with Austin and was reading some material by Witters, when Grice comes with this criticism and complaint. Austin ignores “all too frequently” a distinction that Witters apparently dnies. This is a distinction between what an emissor communicates (e. g. that p), which can be either explicitly (that p1) or implicitly (that p2) and what, metabolically, and derivatively, the emissum ‘communictates’ (explicitly or implicitly). At the Oxford Philosophical Society, he is considering Moore’s ‘entailment.’ This is not a vernacular expression, but a borrowing from a Romance language. But basically, Moore’s idea is that ‘p’ may be said to ‘entail’ q iff at least two conditions follow. Surely ‘entail’ has only one sense. In this metabolically usage where it is a ‘p’ that ‘entails’ the conditions are that there is a property and that there is a limitation. Now suppose Grice is discussing with Austin or reading Witters. Grice wants to distinguish various things: what the emissor communicates (explicitly or implicitly) and the attending diaphanous but metabolical, what WHAT THE EMSSOR COMMUNICATES (explicitly or implicitly) ENTAILS, AND the purely metabolical what the emissum ‘entails’ (explicitly or implicitly). This is Grice’s wording:“If we can elucidate the meaning of "A meantNN by x that p (on a particular occasion)," this might reasonably be expected to help us with the explication of "entails.”The second important occasion is in the interlude or excursus of his Aristotelian Society talk. How does he introduce the topic of ‘implication’? At that time there was a lot being written about ‘contextual’ or ‘pragmatic’ implicationeven within Grice’s circleas in D. K. Grant’s essay on pragmatic implication for Philosophy, and even earlier Nowell-Smith’s on ‘contextual implication’ in “Ethics,” and even earlier, and this is perhaps Grice’s main triggerF. Strawson’s criticism of Whitehead and Russell, with Strawson having that, by uttering ‘The king of France is not bald,’ the emissor IMPLIES that there is a king of France (Strawson later changes the idiom from ‘imply,’ and the attending ‘implication, to ‘presuppose,’ but he keeps ‘imply’ in all the reprints of his earlier essays).  In “Causal Theory,” Grice surely cannot just ‘break’ the narrative and start with ‘implication’ in an excursus. So the first stage is to explore the use of ‘implication’ or related concepts in the first part of “Causal Theory” LEADING to the excursus for which need he felt. The first use appears in section 2.  The use is the noun, ‘implication.’ And Grice is reporting the view of an objector, so does not care to be to careful himself.“the OBJECTION MIGHT run as follows.” “… When someone makes a remark such as “The pillar box seems red” A CERTAIN IMPLICATION IS CARRIED.” He goes on “This implication is “DISJUNCTIVE IN FORM,” which should not concerns us here. Since we are considering the status of the implication, as seen by the objector as reported by Grice. He does not give a source, so we may assume G. A. Paul reading Witters, and trying to indoctrinate a few Oxonians into Wittgensteinianism (Grice notes that besides the playgroup there was Ryle’s group at Oxford and a THIRD, “perhaps more disciplined” group, that tended towards Witters.Grice goes on:“It IS implied that…” p. Again, he expands it, and obviously shows that he doesn’t care to be careful. And he is being ironic, because the implication is pretty lengthy! Yet he says, typically:“This may not be an absolutely EXACT or complete characterisation of the implication, but it is, perhaps, good ENOUGH to be going with!” Grice goes on to have his objector a Strawsonian, i. e. as REFUSING TO ASSIGN A TRUTH-VALUE to the utterance, while Grice would have that it is ‘uninterestingly true. In view of this it may to explore the affirmative and negative versions. Because the truth-values may change:In Grice’s view: “The pillar box seems red to me” IS “UNINTERESTINGLY TRUE,” in spite of the implication.As for “It is not the case that the pillar box seems red,” this is more of a trick. In “Negation,” Grice has a similar example. “That pillar box is red; therefore, it is not blue.”He is concerned with “The pillar box is not blue,” or “It is not the case that the pillar box is blue.”What about the truth-value now of the utterance in connection with the implication attached to it?Surely, Grice would like, unless accepting ‘illogical’ conversationalists (who want to make that something is UNASSERTIBLE or MISLEADING by adding ‘not’), the utterance ‘It is not the case that the pillar box seems red to me’ is FALSE in the scenario where the emissor would be truthful in uttering ‘The pillar box seems red to me.” Since Grice allows that the affirmative is ‘uninterestingly true,’ he is committed to having ‘It is not the case that the pillar box seems red’ as FALSE.For the Strawsonian Wittgensteinian, or truth-value gap theorist, the situation is easier to characterise. Both ‘The pillar box seems red to me” and its negation, “The pillar box does not seem red to me” lack a truth value, or in Grice’s word, as applied to the affirmative, “far from being uninterestingly true, is neither true nor false,” i. e. ‘neuter.’ It wold not be true but it would not be false eitherbreakdown of bivalence. Grice’s case is a complicated one because he distinguishes between the sub-perceptual “The pillar box seems red” from the perceptual ‘vision’ statement, “Grice sees that the pillar box is red.” So the truth of “The pillar box seems red” is a necessary condition for the statement about ‘seeing.’ This is itself controversial. Some philosophers have claimed that “Grice knows that p” does NOT entail “Grice believes that p,” for example. But for the causal theory Grice is thinking of an analysis of “Grice sees that the pillar box is red” in terms of three conditions: First, the pillar box seems red to Grice. Second, the pillar box is red. And third, it is the pillar box being red that causes it seeming red to Grice. Grice goes to reformulate the idea that “The pillar box seems red” being true. But now not “uninterestingly true,” but “true (under certain conditions),” or as he puts it “(subject to certain qualifications) true.” He may be having in mind a clown in a circus confronted with the blue pillar box and making a joke about it. Those ‘certain qualifications’ would not apply to the circus case. Grice goes on to change the adverb, it’s ‘boringly true,’ or ‘highly boringly true.’ He adds ‘suggestio falsi,’ which seems alright but which would not please the Wittgensteinian who would also reject the ‘false.’ We need a ‘suggestio neutri.’ In this second section, he gives the theoretical explanation. The “implication” arises “in virtue of a GENERAL FEATURE OR PRINCIPLE” of conversation, or pertaining to a system put in ‘communication,’ or a general feature or principle governing an emissor communicating that p. Note that ‘feature’ and ‘principle’ are appropriately ‘vague.’ “Feature” can be descriptive. “Principle” is Aristotelian. Boethius’s translation for Aristotle’s ‘arche.’ It can be descriptive. The first use of ‘principle’ in a ‘moral’ or ‘practical’ context seems to post-date its use in, say, geometryEuclid’s axioms as ‘principia mathematica,’ or Newton’s “Principia.” Grice may be having in mind Moore’s ‘paradox’ (true, surely) when Grice adds ‘it is raining.’Grice’s careful wording is worth exploring. “The mistake [incorrectness, falsehood] of supposing the implication to constitute a "part of the meaning [sense]” of "The Alpha seems Beta" is somewhat similar to, though MORE INSIDUOUS …”[moral implication here: 1540s, from Middle French insidieux "insidious" (15c.) or directly from Latin insidiosus "deceitful, cunning, artful, treacherous," from insidiae (plural) "plot, snare, ambush," from insidere "sit on, occupy," from in- "in" (from PIE root *en "in") + sedere "to sit," from PIE root *sed- (1) "to sit." Figurative, usually with a suggestion of lying in wait and the intent to entrap. Related: Insidiously; insidiousness]“than, the mistake which one IF one supposes that the SO-CALLED [‘pragmatic’ or ‘contextualimplicaturum, “as I would not,” and indeed he does nothe prefers “expresses” here, not the weak ‘imply’] “implication” that one believes it to be raining is "a part of the meaning [or sense]" of the expression [or emissum] "It is raining.”Grice allows that no philosopher may have made this mistake. He will later reject the view that one conversationally implicates that one believes that it is raining by uttering ‘It is raining.’ But again he does not give sources. In these case, while without the paraphernalia about the ‘a part of the ‘sense’” bit, can be ascribed at Oxford to Nowell-Smith and Grant (but not, we hope to Strawson). Nowell-Smith is clear that it is a contextual implication, but one would not think he would make the mistake of bringing in ‘sense’ into the bargain. Grice goes on:“The short and literally inaccurate reply to such a supposition [mistake] might be that the so-called “implication” attaches because the expression (or emissum) is a PROPOSITIONAL one [expressable by a ‘that so-and-so’ clause] not because it is the particular propositional expression which it happens to be.”By ‘long,’ Grice implicates: “And it is part of the function of the informative mode that you utter an utterance in the informative mode if you express your belief in the content of the propositonal expression.”Grice goes on to analyse ‘implication’ in terms of ‘petitio principii.’ This is very interesting and requires exploration. Grice claims that his success the implicaturum in the field of the philosophy of perception led his efforts against Strawson on the syncategoremata.But here we see Grice dealing what will be his success.One might, for example, suggest that it is open to the champion of sense_data to lay down that the sense-datum sentence " I have a pink sense-datum " should express truth if and only if the facts are as they would have to be for it to be true, if it were in order, to say .. Something looks pink to me ", even though it may not actually be in ordei to say this (because the D-or-D condition is unfulfilled). But this attempt to by-pass the objector's position would be met by the reply that it begs the question; for it assumes that there is some way of specifying the facts in isolation from the implication standardly carried by such a specification; and this is precisely what the objector is denying.Rephrasing that:“One might, for example, suggest that it is open to the champion of sense_data to lay down that the sense-datum sentence "The pillar box seems red” is TRUE if and only if the facts are as the facts WOULD HAVE to be for “The pillar box seems red” to be true, IF (or provided that) it were IN ORDER [i. e. conversationally appropriate], to utter or ‘state’ or explicitly convey that the pillar box seems red, even though it may NOT actually be in order [conversationally appropriate] to explicitly convey that the pillar box seems red (because the condition specified in the implication is unfulfilled).”“But this attempt to by-pass the objector's position would be met by a charge of ‘petitio principia,’ i. e. the reply that it begs the question.”“Such a  manoeuvre is invalid in that it assumes that there IS some way of providing a SPECIFICATION of the facts of the matter in isolation from, or without recourse to, the implication that is standardly carried by such a specification.”“This is precisely what the objector is denying, i. e. the objector believes it is NOT the case that there is a way of giving a specification of the scenario without bringing in the implication.”Grice refers to the above as one of the “frustrations,” implicating that the above, the ‘petitio principia,’ is just one of the trials Grice underwent before coming with the explanation in terms of the general feature of communication, or as he will late express, in terms of ‘what the hell’ the ‘communication-function’ of “The pillar seems red to me” might be when the implicaturum is not meantand you have to go on and cancel it (“That pillar box seems red; mind, I’m not suggesting that it’s notI’m practicing my sub-perceptual proficiency.”).Grice goes on to note the generality he saw in the idea of the ‘implication.’ Even if “The pillar box seems red” was his FIRST attack, the reason he was willing to do the attacking was that the neo-Wittgensteinian was saying things that went against THE TENOR OF THE THINGS GRICE would say with regard to other ‘linguistic philosophical’ cases OTHER than in the philosophy of perception, notably his explorations were against Malcolm reading of Moore, about Moore ‘misusing’ “know.”Grice:“I was inclined to rule against my objector, partly because his opponent's position was more in line with the kind of thing I was inclined to say about other linguistic phenomena which are in some degree comparable.”Rephrase:“My natural inclination was to oppose the objector.”“And that was because his opponent's position is more “in line” with the kind of thing Grice is inclined to sayor thesis he is willing to put forward-- about OTHER phenomena involving this or that ‘communication-function’ of this or that philosophical adage, which are in some degree comparable to “The pillar box seems red.””So just before the ‘excursus,’ or ‘discursus,’ as he has itwhich is then not numberedbut subtitlted (‘Implication’), he embark on a discursus about “certain ASPECTS of the concept OR CONCEPTS of implication.”He interestingly adds: “using some more or less well-worn examples.” This is not just a reference to Strawson, Grant, Moore, Hungerland and Nowell-Smith, but to the scholastics and the idea of the ‘suppositio’ as an ‘implicatio,’: “Tu non cessas edere ferrum.” Grice says he will consider only four aspects or FOUR IDEAS (used each as a ‘catalyst’) in particular illustrations.“Smith has not ceased beating his wife.”“Smith’s girlfriend is poor, but honest.”“Smith’s handwriting is beautiful”“Smith’s wife is in the kitchen or in the bathroom.”Each is a case, as Grice puts it, “in which in ordinary parlance, or at least in Oxonian philosophical parlance, something might be said to be ‘implied’ (hopefully by the emissor) -- as distinct from being ‘stated,’ or ‘explicitly put.’One first illustrationEXPLICITLY CONVEYED: “Smith has not ceased beating his wife.” IMPLICITLY CONVEYED, but cancellable: “Smith has been beating his wife.”CANCELLATION: “Smith has not ceased beating his wife; he never started.”APPLY THREE OTHER IDEAS.A second illustrationEXPLICITLY CONVEYED:“Smith’s girlfriend is poor, but honest.”IMPLICITLY CONVEYED: “There is some contrast between Smith’s girlfriend’s honesty and her poverty; and possibly between Smith and the utterer.”CANCELLATION: “I’m sorry, I cannot cancel that.”TRY OTHER THREE IDEAS.A third illustrationEXPLICITLY CONVEYED “Smith’s handwriting is beautiful”“Or “If only his outbursts were more angelic.”IMPLICITLY CONVEYED: “He possibly cannot read Hegel in German.”CANCELLATION: “Smith’s handwriting is beautiful; on top, he reads Hegel in German.”TRY THREEOTHER IDEASA fourth illustration:EXPLICITLY CONVEYED: “Smith’s wife is in the kitchen or in the bathroom.”IMPLICITLY CONVEYED: “It is not the case that I have truth-functional grounds to express disjunct D1, and it is not the case that I have truth-functional grounds to express disjunct D2; therefore, I am introducting the disjunction EITHER than by the way favoured by Gentzen.” (Grice actually focuses on the specific ‘doxastic’ condition: emissor believes …CANCELLATION: “I know perfectly well where she is, but I want you to find out for yourself.”TRY THREE OTHER IDEAS.Within the discursus he gives SIX (a sextet) other examples, of the philosophical type, because he is implicating the above are NOT of the really of philosophical type, hence his reference to ‘ordinary parlance.’ He points out that he has no doubt there are other candidates besides his sextet.FIRST IN THE SEXTETEXPLICITLY CONVEYED: “You cannot see a knife as a knife, though you may see what is not a knife as a knife.”IMPLICITLY CONVEYED: “”AS” REQUIRES A GESTALT.”CANCELLATION: “I see the horse as a horse, because my gestalt is mine.”TRY THREE OTHER IDEASSECOND IN THE SEXTET:EXPLICITLY CONVEYED:“When Moore said he knew that the objects before him were human hands, he was guilty of misusing the word "know".”IMPLICITLY CONVEYED: “You can only use ‘know’ for ‘difficult cases.’CANCELLATION: “If I know that p iff I believe that p, p, and p causes my belief in p, I know that the objects before me are human hands.”TRY THREE OTHER IDEAS.THIRD IN THE SEXTETEXPLICITLY CONVEYED: “For an occurrence to be properly said to have a ‘cause,’ the occurrence must be something abnormal or unusual.”IMPLICILTY CONVEYED: “Refrain from using ‘cause’ when the thing is normal and usual.”CANCELLATION: “If I see that the pillar box is red iff the pillar box seems red, the pillar box is red, and the pillar box being red causes the pillar box seeming red, the cause of the pillar box seeming red is that the pillar box is red.”TRY OTHER THREE IDEAS.FOURTH IN THE SEXTET:  EXPLICITLY CONVEYED: “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.”IMPLICITLY CONVEYED: “Refrain ascribing ‘responsibility’ to Timmy having cleaned up his bedroom.”CANCELLATION: “Timmy is very responsible. He engages in an action for which people are not condemned.”TRY THREE OTHER IDEAS.FIFTH IN THE SEXTET:EXPLICITLY CONVEYED: “What is actual is not also possible.”IMPLICITLY CONVEYED: “There is a realm of possibilities which does not overlap with the realm of actualities.”CANCELLATION: “If p is actual iff p obtains in world w1, and p is possible iff p obtains in any world wn which includes w1, p is possible.”TRY THREE OTHER IDEAS.SIXTH IN THE SEXTETEXPLICITLY CONVEYED: “What is known by me to be the case is not also believed by me to be the case.”IMPLICITLY CONVEYED: “To know is magical!”CANCELLATION: “If I know that p iff I believe that p, p, and p causes my believing that p, then what is known by me to be the case is also believed by me to be the case.”TRY THREE OTHER IDEAS.CASE IN QUESTION:EXPLICITLY CONVEYED: “The pillar box seems red.”IMPLICITLY CONVEYED: “One will doubt it is.”CANCELLATION: “The pillar box seems red and I hope no one doubt it is.”TRY THREE OTHER IDEAS. THAT LISTING became commonplace for Grice. In ProlegomenaGROUP A: EXAMPLE I: RYLE on ‘voluntarily’ and “involuntarily” in “The Concept of Mind.” RYLE WAS LISTENING! BUT GRICE WAS without reach! Grice would nothavecriticised Ryle at a shorter distance.EXAMPLE II: MALCOLM IN “Defending common sense” in the Philosophical Review, on Moore’s misuse of ‘know’also in Causal, above, as second in the sextet.EXPLICITLY CONVEYED:“When Moore said he knew that the objects before him were human hands, he was guilty of misusing the word "know".REPHRASE IN “PROLEGOMENA.”IMPLICITLY CONVEYED: “You can only use ‘know’ for ‘difficult cases.’CANCELLATION: “If I know that p iff I believe that p, p, and p causes my belief in p, I know that the objects before me are human hands.”EXAMPLE III: BENJAMIN ON BROAD ON THE “SENSE” OF “REMEMBERING”EXPLICITLY CONVEYED;IMPLICITLY CONVEYEDCANCELLATIONEXAMPLES, GROUP A, CLASS IV: philosophy of perception FIRST EXAMPLE: Witters on ‘seeing as’ in Philosophical InvestigationsEXPLICITLY CONVEYEDIMPLICITLY CONVEYEDCANCELLATION.Previously used in Causal as first in the sextet: FIRST IN THE SEXTETEXPLICITLY CONVEYED: “You cannot see a knife as a knife, though you may see what is not a knife as a knife.”Rephrased in Prolegomena. IMPLICITLY CONVEYED: “”AS” REQUIRES A GESTALT.”CANCELLATION: “I see the horse as a horse, because my gestalt is mine.”GROUP ACLASS IVPHILOSOPHY OF PERCEPTIONEXAMPLE II“The pillar box seems red to me.”Used in“Causal”EXPLICITLY CONVEYED: “The pillar box seems red.”IMPLICITLY CONVEYED: “One will doubt it is.”CANCELLATION: “The pillar box seems red and I hope no one doubt it is.”GROUP ACLASS VPHILOSOPHY OF ACTIONHere unlike Class IV, he uses (a), etc.EXAMPLE A: WITTERS AND OTHERS on ‘trying’ EXPLICITLY CONVEYEDIMPLICITLY CONVEYED:CANCELLATIONGROUP ACLASS V“ACTION,” not ‘philosophy of action’cf. ‘ordinary parlance.’EXAMPLE B: Hart on ‘carefully.’EXPLICITLY CONVEYEDIMPLICITLY CONVEYEDCANCELLATION GROUP ACLASS VACTIONEXAMPLE C: Austin in “A plea for excuses” on ‘voluntarily’ and ‘involuntarily’a refinement on Ryle aboveusing variable “Mly”Grice would not have criticised Austin in the play group. He rather took it against his tutee, Strawson.EXPLICITLY CONVEYED IMPLICITLY CONVEYEDCANCELLATIONGROUP B: syncategoremanot lettered butFIRST EXAMPLE: “AND” (not ‘not’)SECOND EXAMPLE: “OR”THIRD EXAMPLE: “IF”particularly relevant under ‘implication.’ STRAWSON, Introduction to logical theory.GRICE’S PHRASING: “if p, q” ENTAILS ‘p horseshoe q.’ The reverse does not hold: it is not the case that ‘p horseshoe q’ ENTAILS ‘if p, q’. Odd way of putting it, but it was all from Strawson. It may be argued that ‘entail’ belongs in a system, and ‘p horseshoe q’ and ‘if p, q’ are DISPARATE. Grice quotes verbatim from Strawson:a ‘primary or standard’ use of “if … then …,” or “if,” of which the main characteristics were: that for each hypothetical statement made by this use of “if,” there could be made just one statement which would be the antecedent of the hypothetical and just onestatement which would be its consequent; that the hypothetical statement is acceptable (true, reasonable) if the antecedent statement, if made or accepted, would, in the circumstances, be a good ground or reason for accepting the consequent statement; and that the making of the hypothetical statement carries the implicationeither of uncertainty about, or of disbelief in, the fulfilment of both antecedent and consequent.Grice rephrases that by stating that for Grice “a primary or standard use of ‘if, then’” is characterised as follows:“for each hypothetical statement made by this use of “if,” there could be made just one statement which would be the antecedent of the hypothetical and just one statement which would be its consequent; that the hypothetical statement is acceptable (true, reasonable) if the antecedent statement, if made or accepted, would, in the circumstances, be a good ground or reason for accepting the consequent statement; and that the making of the hypothetical statement carries the implication either of uncertainty about, or of disbelief in, the fulfilment of both antecedent and consequent.”Grice rephrases the characterisation as from “each” and eliding a middle part, but Grice does not care to add the fastidious “[…],” or quote, unquote.“each hypothetical ‘statement’ made by this use of “if” is acceptable (TRUE, reasonable) if the antecedent ‘statement,’ IF made or accepted, would, in the circumstances, be a good ground or reason for accepting the consequent ‘statement;’ and that the making of thehypothetical statement carries the implication either of uncertainty about, or of disbelief in, the fulfilment of both antecedent and consequent.  “A hypothetical, or conditional ‘statement’ or composite proposition such as “If it is day, I talk”is acceptable (or TRUE, or ‘reasonable’) if (but not only if), first, the antecedent ‘statement,’ ‘It is day,’ IF made on its own, or accepted on its own, i. e. simpliciter, would, in the circumstances, be a good ground or ‘reason’ for accepting the consequent ‘statement,’ to wit: “I talk;” and, second, that the making of the conditional proposition or hypothetical ‘statement’ carries the implication, or rather the emissor of the emissum IMPLIES, either it is not the case that the emissor is CERTAIN about or that it is day and CERTAIN about or that he talks, or BELIEVES that it is day and BELIEVES that he talks.”More or less Grice’s denial or doubt. Or rather ‘doubt’ (Strawson’s ‘uncertainty about’) or denial (‘disbelief in’). But it will do at this point to explore the argument by Strawson to which Grice is responding. First two comments. Strawson has occasion to respond to Grice’s response in more than one opportunity. But Grice never took up the issue again in a detailed fashionafter dedicating a full lecture to it. One occasion was Strawson’s review of the reprint of Grice in 1989. Another is in the BA memorial. The crucial one is repr. by Strawson (in a rather otiose way) in his compilation, straight from PGRICE. This is an essay which Strawson composed soon after the delivery by Grice of the lecture without consulting. Once Stawson is aware of Grice’s terminology, he is ready to frame his view in Grice’s terms: for Strawson, there IS an implicaturum, but it is a conventional one. His analogy is with the ‘asserted’ “therefore” or “so.” Since this for Grice was at least the second exemplar of his manoeuvre, it will do to revise the argument from which Grice extracts the passage in “Prolegomena.” In the body of the full lecture IV, Grice does not care to mention Strawson at all; in fact, he makes rather hasty commentaries generalising on both parties of the debate: the formalists, who are now ‘blue-collared practitioners of the sciences,” i. e. not philosophers like Grice and Strawson; and the informalists or ‘traditionalists’ like Strawson who feel offended by the interlopers to the tranquil Elysium of philosophy. Grice confesses a sympathy for the latter, of course. So here is straight from the tranquil Elysium of philosophy. For Strawson, the relations between “if” and “⊃” have already, but only in part, been discussed (Ch. 2, S. 7).” So one may need to review those passages. But now he has a special section that finishes up the discussion which has been so far only partial. So Strawson resumes the points of the previous partial discussion and comes up with the ‘traditionalist’ tenet.  The sign “⊃” is called the material implication sign. Only by Whitehead and Russell, that is, ‘blue-collared practitioners of the sciences,’ in Grice’s wording. Whitehead and Russell think that ‘material’ is a nice opposite to ‘formal,’ and ‘formal implication’ is something pretty complex that only they know to which it refers! Strawson goes on to explain, and this is a reminder of his “Introduction” to his “Philosophical Logic” where he reprints Grice’s Meaning (for some reason). There Strawson has a footnote quoting from Quine’s “Methods of Logic,” where the phrasing is indeed about the rough phrase, ‘the meaning of ‘if’’cf. Grice’s laughter at philosophers talking of ‘the sense of ‘or’’“Why, one must should as well talk of the ‘sense’ of ‘to,’ or ‘of’!’Grice’s implicaturum is to O. P. Wood, whose claim to fame is for having turned Oxford into the place where ‘the sense of ‘or’’ was the key issue with which philosophers were engaged.  Strawson goes on to say that its meaning is given by the ‘rule’ that any statement of the form ‘p⊃q’ is FALSE in the case in which the first of its constituent statements is true and the second false, and is true in every other case considered in the system; i. e., the falsity of the first constituent statement or the truth of the second are, equally, sufficient conditions of the truth of a statement of material implication. The combination of truth in the first with falsity in the second is the single, NECESSARY AND SUFFICIENT, condition of its falsity. The standard or primary -- the importance of this qualifying phrase, ‘primary,’ can scarcely be overemphasizedGrice omits this bracket when he expolates the quote. The bracket continues. The place where Strawson opens the bracket is a curious one: it is obvious he is talking about the primary use of ‘if’. So here he continues the bracket with the observation that there are uses of “if”  which do not answer to the description given here, or to any other descriptions given in this [essay] -- use of “if” sentence, on the other hand [these are Strawson’s two hands], are seen to be in circumstances where, not knowing whether some statement which could be made by the use of a sentence corresponding in a certain way to the sub-ordinated clause of the utterance is true or not, or believing it to be false, the emissor nevertheless considers that a step in reasoning from THAT statement to a statement related in a similar way to the main clause would be a sound or reasonable step [a reasonable reasoning, that is]; this statement related to the main clause also being one of whose truth the emissor is in doubt, or which the emissor believes to be false. Even in such circumstances as these a philosopher may sometimes hesitate to apply ‘true’ to a conditional or hypothetical statement, i.e., a statement which could be made by the use of “if ”(Philo’s ‘ei,’ Cicero’s ‘si’)  in its standard significance, preferring to call a conditional statement reasonable or well-founded. But if the philosopher does apply ‘true’ to an ‘if’ utterance at all, it will be in such circumstances as these. Now one of the sufficient conditions of the truth of a ‘statement’ or formula of material implication may very well be fulfilled without the conditions for the truth, or reasonableness, of the corresponding hypothetical or conditional statement being fulfilled. A statement of the form ‘p ⊃ q’ (where the horseshoe is meant to represent an inverted ‘c’ for ‘contentum’ or ‘consequutum’ -- does not entail the corresponding statement of the ‘form’ “if p, q.” But if the emissor is prepared to accept the hypothetical statement, he must in consistency be prepared to deny the conjunction of the statement corresponding to the sub-ordinated clause of the sentence used to make the hypothetical statement with the negation of the statement corresponding to its main or super-ordinated clause. A statement of the ‘form’ “if p, q” does entail the corresponding statement of the form ‘p ⊃ q.’ The force of “corresponding” may need some elucidation. Consider the following very ‘ordinary’ or ‘natural’ specimens of a hypothetical sentence. Strawson starts with a totally unordinary subjective counterfactual ‘if,’ an abyss with Philo, “If it’s day, I talk.” Strawson surely involves The Hun. ‘If the Germans had invaded England in 1940, they, viz. the Germans, would have won the war.’ Because for the Germans, invading England MEANT winning the war. They never cared much for Wales or Scotland, never mind Northern Ireland. Possibly ‘invaded London’ would suffice. Strawson’s second instantiation again is the odd subjective counter-factual ‘if,’ an abyss or chasm from Philo, ‘If it’s day, I talk.’ “If Smith were in charge, half the staff would have been dismissed.’ Strawson is thinking Noel Coward, who used to make fun of the music-hall artist Wade. “If you WERE the only girl in the world, and I WAS the only boy…’. The use of ‘were’ is Oxonian. A Cockney is forbidden to use it, using ‘was’ instead. The rationale is Philonian. ‘was’ is indicative.  “If Smith were in charge, half the staff would have been dismissed.’ Strawson’s third instantiation is, at last, more or less Philonian, a plain indicative ‘weather’ protasis, etc. “If it rains, the match will be cancelled.” The only reservation Philo would have is ‘will’. Matches do not have ‘will,’ and the sea battle may never take placethe world may be destroyed by then. “If it rains, the match will be cancelled.” Or “If it rains, the match is cancelledbut there is a ‘rain date.’” The sentence which could be used to make a statement corresponding in the required ‘sense’ to the sub-ordinate clause can be ascertained by considering what it is that the emissor of each hypothetical sentence must (in general) be assumed either to be in doubt about or to believe to be not the case. Thus, the corresponding sentences. ‘The Germans invaded England in 1940.’ Or ‘The Germans invade England’historical present -- ‘The Germans won the war.’ Or ‘The Germans win the war’historical present. ‘Smith is in charge.’ ‘Half the staff has been dismissed.’ Or ‘Half the staff is dismissed.’ ‘It will rain.’ Or ‘It rains.’‘The match will be cancelled.’ Or ‘The match is cancelled.’ A sentence could be used to make a statement of material implication corresponding to the hypothetical statement made by the  sentence is framed, in each case, from these pairs of sentences as follows. ‘The Germans invaded England in 1940 ⊃ they won the war.’ Or in the historical present,’The Germans invade London ⊃ The Germans win the war. ‘ ‘Smith is in charge ⊃ half the staff has been, dismissed.’ Or in the present tense, ‘Smith is in charge ⊃ half the staff is dismissed.’ ‘ It will rain ⊃ the match will be cancelled.’ Or in the present ‘It rains ⊃ the match is cancelled.’  The very fact that a few verbal modifications are necessary to please the Oxonian ear, in order to obtain from the clauses of the hypothetical sentence the clauses of the corresponding material implication sentence is itself a symptom of the radical difference between a hypothetical statement and a truth-functional statement. Some detailed differences are also evident from these instantiations. The falsity of a statement made by the use of ‘The Germans invade London in 1940’ or ‘Smith is in charge’ is a sufficient condition of the truth of the corresponding statements made by the use of the ⊃-utterances. But not, of course, of the corresponding statement made by the use of the ‘if’ utterance. Otherwise, there would normally be no point in using an ‘if’ sentence at all.An ‘if’ sentence would normally carrybut not necessarily: one may use the pluperfect or the imperfect subjunctive when one is simply working out the consequences of an hypothesis which one may be prepared eventually to accept -- in the tense or mode of the verb, an implication (or implicaturum) of the emissor’s belief in the FALSITY of the statements corresponding to the clauses of the hypothetical.That it is not the case that it rains is sufficient to verify (or truth-functionally confirm) a statement made by the use of “⊃,” but not a statement made by the use of ‘if.’ That it is not the case that it rains is also sufficient to verify (or truth-functionally confirm) a statement made by the use of ‘It will rain ⊃ the match will not be cancelled.’ Or ‘It rains ⊃ the match is cancelled.’ The formulae ‘p ⊃ q’ and ‘p ⊃ ~ q' are consistent with one another.The joint assertion of corresponding statements of these forms is equivalent to the assertion of the corresponding statement of the form ‘~ p.’ But, and here is one of Philo’s ‘paradoxes’: “If it rains, the match will be cancelled” (or ‘If it rains, the match is cancelled’) seems (or sounds) inconsistent with “If it rains, the match will not be cancelled,’ or ‘If it rains, it is not the case that the match is cancelled.’But here we add ‘not,’ so Philo explains the paradox away by noting that his account is meant for ‘pure’ uses of “ei,” or “si.”Their joint assertion in the same context sounds self-contradictory. But cf. Philo, who wisely said of ‘If it is day, it is night’ “is true only at night.” (Diog. Laert. Repr. in Long, The Hellenistic Philosophers). Suppose we call the statement corresponding to the sub-ordinated clause of a sentence used to make a hypothetical statement the antecedent of the hypothetical statement; and the statement corresponding to the super-ordinated clause, its consequent. It is sometimes fancied that, whereas the futility of identifying a conditional ‘if’ statement with material implication is obvious in those cases where the implication of the falsity of the antecedent is normally carried by the mode or tense of the verbas in “If the Germans invade London in 1940, they, viz. the Germans, win the war’ and ‘If Smith is in charge, half the staff is dismissed’ -- there is something to be said for at least a PARTIAL identification in cases where no such implication is involved, i.e., where the possibility of the truth of both antecedent and consequent is left openas in ‘If it rains, the match is cancelled.’ In cases of the first kind (an ‘unfulfilled,’ counterfactual, or ‘subjunctive’ conditional) the intended addressee’s attention is directed, as Grice taught J. L. Mackie, in terms of the principle of conversational helpfulness, ONLY TO THE LAST TWO ROWS of the truth-tables for ‘ p ⊃ q,’ where the antecedent has the truth-value, falsity. Th suggestion that ‘~p’ ‘entails’ ‘if p, q’ is felt or to be or ‘sounds’if not to Philo’s or Grice’s ears -- obviously wrong.  But in cases of the second kind one inspects also the first two ROWS. The possibility of the antecedent's being fulfilled is left open. It is claimed that it is NOT the case that the suggestion that ‘p ⊃ q’ ‘entails’ ‘if p, q’ is felt to be or sound obviously wrong, to ANYBODY, not just the bodies of Grice and Philo. This Strawson calls, to infuriate Grice, ‘an illusion,’ ‘engendered by a reality.’The fulfilment of both antecedent and consequent of a hypothetical statement does not show that the man who made the hypothetical statement is right. It is not the case that the man would be right, Strawson claims, if the consequent is made true as a result of this or that factor unconnected with, or in spite of, rather than ‘because’ of, the fulfilment of the antecedent.  E. g. if Grice’s unmissable match is missed because the Germans invadeand not because of the ‘weather.’but cf. “The weather in the streets.” Strawson is prepared to say that the man (e. g., Grice, or Philo) who makes the hypothetical statement is right only if Strawson is also prepared to say that the antecedent being true is, at least in part, the ‘explanation’ of the consequent being true. The reality behind the illusion Strawson naturally finds ‘complex,’ for surely there ain’t one! Strawson thinks that this is due to two phenomena. First, Strawson claims, in many cases, the fulfilment of both antecedent and consequent provides confirmation for the view that the existence of states of affairs like those described by the antecedent IS a good ‘reason’ for expecting (alla Hume, assuming the uniformity of nature, etc.) a states of affair like that described by the consequent. Second, Starwson claims, a man (e. g. Philo, or Grice) who (with a straight Grecian or Griceian face) says, e. g. ‘If it rains, the match is cancelled’ makes a bit of a prediction, assuming the ‘consequent’ to be referring to t2>t1but cf. if he is reporting an event taking place at THE OTHER PLACE. The prediction Strawson takes it to be ‘The match is cancelled.’And the man is making the prediction ONLY under what Strawson aptly calls a “proviso,” or “caveat,”first used by Boethius to translate Aristotle -- “It rains.” Boethius’s terminology later taken up by the lawyers in Genoa. mid-15c., from Medieval Latin proviso (quod) "provided (that)," phrase at the beginning of clauses in legal documents (mid-14c.), from Latin proviso "it being provided," ablative neuter of provisus, past participle of providere (see provide). Related: Provisory. And that the cancellation of the match because of the rain therefore leads us to say, not only that the reasonableness of the prediction was confirmed, but also that the prediction itself was confirmed.  Because it is not the case that a statement of the form ‘ p ⊃ q’ entails the corresponding statement of the form ' if p, q ' (in its standard employment), Strawson thinks he can find a divergence between this or that ‘rule’ for '⊃' and this or that ‘rule’ for '’if ,’ in its standard employment. Because ‘if p, q’ does entail ‘p ⊃ q,’ we shall also expect to find some degree of parallelism between the rules. For whatever is entailed by ‘p ⊃ q’ is entailed by ‘if p, q,’ though not everything which entails ‘p ⊃ q’ does Strawson claims, entail ‘if p, q.’  Indeed, we find further parallels than those which follow simply from the facts that ‘if p, q’ entails ‘p ⊃ q’ and that entailment is transitive.  To some laws for ‘⊃,’ Strawson finds no parallels for ‘if.’ Strawson notes that for at least four laws for ‘⊃,’ we find that parallel laws ‘hold’ good for ‘if. The first law is mentioned by Grice, modus ponendo ponens, as elimination of ‘⊃.’ Strawson does not consider the introduction of the horseshoe, where p an q forms a collection of all active assumptions previously introduced which could have been used in the deduction of  ‘if p, q.’ When inferring ‘if p, q’ one is allowed to discharge assumptions of the form p. The fact that after deduction of ‘if p, q’  this assumption is discharged (not active is pointed out by using [ ] in vertical notation, and by deletion from the set of assumptions in horizontal notation. The latter notation shows better the character of the rule; one deduction is transformed into the other. It shows also that the rule for the introduction of ‘if’ corresponds to an important metatheorem, the Deduction Theorem, which has to be proved in axiomatic formalizations of logic. But back to the elimination of ‘if’. Modus ponendo ponens. ‘‘((p ⊃ q).p) ⊃ q.’ For some reason, Strawson here mixes horseshoes and ifs as if Boethius is alive! Grice calls these “half-natural, half-artificial.’ Chomsky prefers ‘semi-native.’ ‘(If p, q, and p) ⊃q.’ Surely what Strawson wants is a purely ‘if’ one, such as ‘If, if p, q, and p, q.’ Some conversational implicaturum!  As Grice notes: “Strawson thinks that one can converse using his converses, but we hardly.’ The second law. Modus tollendo tollens. ‘((p⊃q). ~ q)) ⊃ (~ p).’ Again, Strawson uses a ‘mixed’ formula: (if p, q, and it is not the case that q) ⊃ it is not the case that p. Purely unartificial: If, if p, q, and it is not the case that q, it is not the case that p. The third law, which Strawson finds problematic, and involves an operator that Grice does not even consider. ‘(p ⊃ q) ≡ (~ q  ⊃ ~ p). Mixed version, Strawson simplifies ‘iff’ to ‘if’ (in any case, as Pears notes, ‘if’ IMPLICATES ‘iff.’). (If p, q) ⊃ if it is not the case that q, it is not the case that p. Unartificial: If, if p, q, it is not the case that if q, it is not the case that p. The fourth law. ((p ⊃ q).(q ⊃ r)) ⊃ (p ⊃ r). Mixed: (if p, q, and if q, r) ⊃ (if p, r). Unartificial: ‘If, if p, q, and if q, r, if p, r.’ Try to say that to Mrs. Grice! (Grice: “It’s VERY SURPRISING that Strawson think we can converse in his lingo!”). Now Strawson displays this or that ‘reservation.’ Mainly it is an appeal to J. Austen and J. Austin. Strawson’s implicaturum is that Philo, in Megara, has hardly a right to unquiet the tranquil Elysium. This or that ‘reservation’ by Strawson takes TWO pages of his essay. Strawson claims that the reservations are important. It is, e. g., often impossible to apply entailment-rule (iii) directly without obtaining incorrect or absurd results. Some modification of the structure of the clauses of the hypothetical is commonly necessary. Alas, Whitehead and Russell give us little guide as to which modifications are required.  If we apply rule (iii) to our specimen hypothetical sentences, without modifying at all the tenses or moods of the individual clauses, we obtain expressions which Austin would not call ‘ordinary language,’ or Austen, for that matter, if not Macaulay.  If we preserve as nearly as possible the tense-mode structure, in the simplest way consistent with grammatical requirements, we obtain this or that sentence. TOLLENDO TOLLENS. ‘If it is not the case that the Germans win the war, it is not the case that they, viz. the Germans, invade England in 1940.’ ‘If it is not the case that half the staff is dismissed, it is not the case that Smith is in charge.’ ‘If it is not the case that the match is cancelled, it is not the case that it rains.’ But, Strawson claims, these sentences, so far from SOUNDING or seeming logically equivalent to the originals, have in each case a quite different ‘sense.’ It is possible, at least in some cases, to frame, via tollendo tollens a target setence of more or less the appropriate pattern for which one can imagine a use and which DOES stand in the required relationship to the source sentence. ‘If it is not the case that the Germans win the war, (trust) it is not the case that they, viz. the Germans, invade England in 1940,’ with the attending imlicatum: “only because they did not invade England in 1940.’ or even, should historical evidence be scanty). ‘If it is not the case that the Germans win the war, it SURELY is not the case that they, viz. the Germans, invade London in 1940.’ ‘If it is not the case that half the staff is dismissed, it surely is not the case that Smith is in charge.’ These changes reflect differences in the circumstances in which one might use these, as opposed to the original, sentences.  The sentence beginning ‘If Smith is in charge …’ is normally, though not necessarily, used by a man who antecedently knows that it is not the case that Smith is in charge. The sentence beginning ‘If it is not the case that half the staff is dismissed …’  is normally, though not necessarily, used by by a man who is, as Cook Wilson would put it, ‘working’ towards the ‘consequent’ conclusion that Smith is not in charge.  To say that the sentences are nevertheless truth-functionally equivalent seems to point to the fact that, given the introduction rule for ‘if,’ the grounds for accepting the original ‘if’-utterance AND the ‘tollendo tollens’ correlatum, would, in two different scenarios, have been grounds for accepting the soundness or validity of the passage or move from a premise ‘Smith is in charge’ to its ‘consequentia’ ‘consequutum,’ or ‘conclusion,’ ‘Half the staff is dismissed.’ One must remember that calling each formula (i)-(iv) a LAW or a THEOREM is the same as saying that, e.g., in the case of (iii), ‘If p, q’ ‘ENTAILS’ ‘If it is not the case that q, it is not the case that p.’ Similarly, Strawson thinks, for some steps which would be invalid for ‘if,’ there are corresponding steps that would be invalid for ‘⊃.’ He gives two example using a symbol Grice does not consider, for ‘therefore,’ or ‘ergo,’ and lists a fallacy. First example. ‘(p ⊃ q).q ∴ p.’ Second example of a fallacy:‘(p ⊃ q). ~p ∴ ~q.’ These are invalid inference-patterns, and so are the correlative patterns with ‘if’: ‘If p, q; and q  ∴ p’ ‘If p, q; and it is not the case that p ∴ it is not the case that q. The formal analogy here may be described by saying that neither ‘p ⊃  q’ nor ‘if p, q’ is a simply convertible (“nor hardly conversable”Grice) formula. Strawson thinks, and we are getting closer to Philo’s paradoxes, revisied, that there may be this or that laws which holds for ‘p ⊃ q’ and not for ‘If p, q.’  As an example of a law which holds for ‘if’ but not for ‘⊃,’ one may give an analytic formula. ~[(if p, q) . (if p, it is not the case that q)]’. The corresponding formula with the horseshoe is not analytic. ‘~[(p ⊃ q) . (p ⊃ ~q)]’ is not analytic, and is equivalent to the contingent formula ‘~ ~p.’ The rules to the effect that this or that formula is analytic is referred to by Johnson, in the other place, as the ‘paradox of implication.’ This Strawson finds a Cantabrigian momer. If Whitehead’s and Russell’s ‘⊃’ is taken as identical either with Moore’s ‘entails’ or, more widely, with  Aelfric’s‘if’as in his “Poem to the If,” MSS Northumberland“If” meant trouble in Anglo-Saxon -- in its standard use, the rules that yield this or that so-called ‘paradox’ -- are not, for Strawson, “just paradoxical.” With an attitude, he adds. “They are simply incorrect.”This is slightly illogical.“That’s not paradoxical; that’s incorrect.”Cf. Grice, “What is paradoxical is not also incorrect.” And cf. Grice: “Philo defines a ‘paradox’ as something that surprises _his father_.’ He is ‘using’ “father,” metaphorically, to refer to his tutor. His father was unknown (to him). On the other hand (vide Strawson’s Two Hands), with signs you can introduce alla Peirce and Johnson by way of ostensive definition any way you wish! If ‘⊃’ is given the meaning it is given by what Grice calls the ‘truth-table definition,’ or ‘stipulation’ in the system of truth functions, the rules and the statements they represent, may be informally dubbed ‘paradoxical,’ in that they don’t agree with the ‘man in the street,’ or ‘the man on High.’ The so-called ‘paradox’ would be a simple and platitudinous consequence of the meaning given to the symbol. Strawson had expanded on the paradoxes in an essay he compiled while away from Oxford. On his return to Oxford, he submitted it to “Mind,” under the editorship by G. Ryle, where it was published. The essay concerns the ‘paradoxes’ of ‘entailment’ in detail, and mentions Moore and C. I. Lewis. He makes use of modal operators, nec. and poss. to render the ‘necessity’ behind ‘entail.’ He thinks the paradoxes of ‘entailment’ arise from inattention to this modality. At the time, Grice and Strawson were pretty sure that nobody then accepted, if indeed anyone ever did and did make, the identification of the relation symbolised by the horseshoe, ⊃, with the relation which Moore calls ‘entailment,’ p⊃q, i. e. The mere truth-functional ‘if,’ as in ‘p ⊃ q,’ ‘~(pΛ~q)’ is rejected as an analysis of the meta-linguistic ‘p entails q.’ Strawson thinks that the identification is rejected because ‘p ⊃ q’ involves this or that allegedly paradoxical implicaturum.Starwson explicitly mentions ‘ex falso quodlibeet.’ Any FALSE proposition entails any proposition, true or false. And any TRUE proposition is entailed by any proposition, true or falso (consequentia mirabilis). It is a commonplace  that  Lewis, whom Grice calls a ‘blue-collared practioner of the sciences,’ Strawson thinks, hardly solved the thing. The amendment by Lewis, for Strawson, has consequences scarcely less paradoxical in terms of the implicatura. For if p is impossible, i.e. self-contradictory, it is impossible that p and ~q. And if q is necessary, ~q is impossible and it is impossible that p and ~q; i. e., if p entails q means it is impossible that p and ~q any necessary proposition is entailed by any proposition and any self-contradictory proposition entails any proposition. On the other hand, the definition by Lewis of ‘strict’ implication or entailment (i.e. of the relation which holds from p to q whenever q is deducible from p), Strawson thinks, obviously commends itself in some respects. Now, it is clear that the emphasis laid on the expression-mentioning character of the intensional contingent statement by writing ‘ ‘pΛ~q’ is impossible instead’ of ‘It is impossible that p and ~q’ does not avoid the alleged paradoxes of entailment. But, Starwson optimistically thinks, it is equally clear that the addition of some provision does avoid them. Strawson proposes that one should use “p entails q” such that no necessary statement and no negation of a necessary statement can significantly be said to “entail” or be entailed by any statement; i. e. the function “p entails q” cannot take necessary or self-contradictory statements as arguments. The expression “p entails q” is to be used to mean “ ‘p ⊃ q’ is necessary, and neither ‘p’ nor ‘q’ is either necessary or self-contradictory.” Alternatively, “p entails q” should be used only to mean “ ‘pΛ~q’ is impossible and neither ‘p’ nor ‘q,’ nor either of their contradictories, is necessary. In this way, Strawson thinks the paradoxes are avoided. Strawson’s proof. Let us assume that p1 expresses a contingent, and q1 a necessary, proposition. p1 and ~q1 is now impossible because ~q1 is impossible. But q1 is necessary. So, by that provision, p1 does not entail q1. We may avoid the paradoxical assertion “p1 entails q2” as merely falling into the equally paradoxical assertion “ “p1 entails q1” is necessary.” For: If ‘q’ is necessary, ‘q is necessary’ is, though true, not necessary, but a CONTINGENT INTENSIONAL (Latinate)  statement. This becomes part of the philosophers lexicon: intensĭo, f. intendo, which L and S render as a stretching out, straining, effort. E. g. oculorum, Scrib. Comp. 255. Also an intensifying, increase. Calorem suum (sol) intensionibus ac remissionibus temperando fovet,” Sen. Q. N. 7, 1, 3. The tune: “gravis, media, acuta,” Censor. 12.  Hence: ‘~ (‘q’ is necessary)’ is, though false, possible. Hence “p1 Λ ~ (q1 is necessary)” is, though false, possible.  Hence ‘p1’ does NOT entail ‘q1 is necessary.’ Thus, by adopting the view that an entailment statement, and other intensional statements, are contingent, viz. non-necessary, and that no necessary statement or its contradictory can entail or be entailed by any statement, Strawson thinks he can avoid the paradox that a necessary proposition is entailed by any proposition, and indeed all the other associated paradoxes of entailment.  Grice objects that the alleged cure by Strawson is worse than disease of Moore!  The denial that a necessary proposition can entail or be entailed by any proposition, and, therefore, that necessary propositions can be related to each other by the entailment relation, is too high a price to pay for the solution of the paradoxes, which are perfectly true utterances with only this or that attending cancellable implicaturum. Strawson’s introduction of ‘acc.’ makes sense. Which makes sense in that Philo first supplied his truth-functional account of ‘if’ to criticise his tutor Diodorus on modality. Philo reported to Diodorus something he had heard from Neptune. In dreams, Neptune appeared to Philo and told him: “I saw down deep in the waters a wooden trunk of a plant that only grows under weatheralgae -- The trunk can burn!” Neptune said.Awakening, Philo ran to Diodorus: “A wooden trunk deep down in the ocean can burn.”   Throughout this section, Strawson refers to a ‘primary or standard’ use of ‘if,’ of which the main characteristics are various. First, that for each hypothetical statement made by this use of ‘if,’ there could be made just one statement which would be the antecedent of the hypothetical and just one statement which would be its consequent. Second, that the hypothetical statement is acceptable (true, reasonable) if the antecedent statement, if made or accepted, would, in the circumstances, be a good ground or reason for accepting the consequent statement. Third, the making of the hypothetical statement carries the implication either of uncertainty about, or of disbelief in, the fulfilment of both antecedent and consequent.’ This above is the passage extrapolated by Grice. Grice does not care to report the platitudionous ‘first’ ‘characteristic’ as Strawson rather verbosely puts it. The way Grice reports it, it is not clear Strawson is listing THREE characteristics. Notably, from the extrapolated quote, it would seem as if Grice wishes his addressee to believe that Strawson thinks that characteristic 2 and characteristic 3 mix. On top, Grice omits a caveat immediately after the passage he extrapolates. Strawso notes: “There is much more than this to be said about this way of using ‘if;’ in particular, about the meaning of the question whether the antecedent would be a GOOD ground or reason for accepting the consequent, and about the exact way in which THIS question is related to the question of whether the hypothetical is TRUE {acceptable, reasonable) or not.’ Grice does not care to include a caveat by Strawson: “Not all uses of ‘if ,’ however, exhibit all these three characteristics.” In particular, there is a use which has an equal claim to rank as standard ‘if’ and which is closely connected with the use described, but which does not exhibit the first characteristic and for which the description of the remainder must consequently be modified.  Strawson has in mind what is sometimes called a ‘formal’ (by Whitehead and Russell) or 'variable' or 'general’ or ‘generic’ hypothetical. Strawson gives three examples. The first example is ‘lf ice is left in the sun, it melts.’ This is Kantian. Cf. Grice on indicative conditionals in the last Immanuel Kant Lecture.  Grice: "It should be, given that it is the case that one smears one's skin with peanut butter before retiring and that it is the case that one has a relatively insensitive skin, that it is the case that one preserves a youthful complexion." More generally, there is some plausibility to the idea that an exemplar of the form 'Should (! E, ⊢F; ! G)' is true just in case a corresponding examplar of the form 'Should (⊢ F, ⊢G; ⊢E)' is true. Before proceeding further, I will attempt to deal briefly with a possible objection which might be raised at this point. I can end imagine an ardent descriptivist, who first complains, in the face of someone who wishes to allow a legitimate autonomous status to practical acceptability generalizations, that truth-conditions for such generalizations are not available, and perhaps are in principle not available; so such generalizations are not to be taken seriously. We then point out to him that, at least for a class of such cases, truth-conditions are available, and that they are to be found in related alethic generalizations, a kind of generalization he accepts. He then complains that, if finding truth-conditions involves representing the practical acceptability generalizations as being true just in case related alethic generalizations are true, then practical acceptability generalizations are simply reducible to alethic generalizations, and so are not to be taken seriously for another reason, namely, that they are simply transformations of alethic generalizations, and we could perfectly well get on without them. Maybe some of you have heard some ardent descriptivists arguing in a style not so very different from this. Now a deep reply to such an objection would involve (I think) a display of the need for a system of reasoning in which the value to be transmitted by acceptable inference is not truth but practical value, together with a demonstration of the role of practical acceptability generalizations in such a system. I suspect that such a reply could be constructed, but I do not have it at my fingertips (or tongue-tip), so I shall not try to produce it. An interim reply, however, might take the following form: even though it may be true (which is by no means certain) that certain practical acceptability generalizations have the same truth-conditions as certain corresponding alethic generalizations, it is not to be supposed that the former generalizations are simply reducible to the latter (in some disrespectful sense of 'reducible'). For though both kinds of generalization are defeasible, they are not defeasible in the same way; more exactly, what is a defeating condition for a given practical generalization is not a defeating condition for its alethic counterpart. A generalization of the form 'should (! E, ⊢F; ! G)' may have, as a defeating condition, 'E*'; that is to say, consistently with the truth of this generalization, it may be true that 'should (! E & ! E*, ⊢F; ! G*)' where 'G*' is inconsistent with 'G'. But since, in the alethic counterpart generalization 'should (⊢ F, ⊢G; ⊢E)', 'E' does not occur in the antecedent, 'E*' cannot be a defeating end p.92 condition for this generalization. And, since liability to defeat by a certain range of defeating conditions is essential to the role which acceptability generalizations play in reasoning, this difference between a practical generalization and its alethic counterpart is sufficient to eliminate the reducibility of the former to the latter. To return to the main theme of this section. If, without further ado, we were to accept at this point the suggestion that 'should (! E, ⊢F; ! G)' is true just in case 'should (⊢ F, ⊢G; ⊢E)' is true, we should be accepting it simply on the basis of intuition (including, of course, linguistic or logical intuition under the head of 'intuition'). If the suggestion is correct then we should attain, at the same time, a stronger assurance that it is correct and a better theoretical understanding of the alethic and practical acceptability, if we could show why it is correct by deriving it from some general principle(s). Kant, in fact, for reasons not unlike these, sought to show the validity of a different but fairly closely related Technical Imperative by just such a method. The form which he selects is one which, in my terms, would be represented by "It is fully acceptable, given let it be that B, that let it be that A" or "It is necessary, given let it be that B, that let it be that A". Applying this to the one fully stated technical imperative given in Grundlegung, we get Kant’s hypothetical which is of the type Strawson calls ‘variable,’ formal, ‘generic,’ or ‘generic.’ Kant: “It is necessary, given let it be that one bisect a line on an unerring principle, that let it be that I draw from its extremities two intersecting arcs". Call this statement, (α). Though he does not express himself very clearly, I am certain that his claim is that this imperative is validated in virtue of the fact that it is, analytically, a consequence of an indicative statement which is true and, in the present context, unproblematic, namely, the statement vouched for by geometry, that if one bisects a line on an unerring principle, then one does so only as a result of having drawn from its extremities two intersecting arcs. Call this statement, (β). His argument seems to be expressible as follows. (1) It is analytic that he who wills the end (so far as reason decides his conduct), wills the indispensable means thereto. (2) So it is analytic that (so far as one is rational) if one wills that A, and judges that if A, then A as a result of B, then one wills that B. end p.93 (3) So it is analytic that (so far as one is rational) if one judges that if A, then A as a result of B, then if one wills that A then one wills that B. (4) So it is analytic that, if it is true that if A, then A as a result of B, then if let it be that A, then it must be that let it be that B. From which, by substitution, we derive (5): it is analytic that if β then α. Now it seems to me to be meritorious, on Kant's part, first that he saw a need to justify hypothetical imperatives of this sort, which it is only too easy to take for granted, and second that he invoked the principle that "he who wills the end, wills the means"; intuitively, this invocation seems right. Unfortunately, however, the step from (3) to (4) seems open to dispute on two different counts. (1) It looks as if an unwarranted 'must' has appeared in the consequent of the conditional which is claimed, in (4), as analytic; the most that, to all appearances, could be claimed as being true of the antecedent is that 'if let it be that A then let it be that B'. (2) (Perhaps more serious.) It is by no means clear by what right the psychological verbs 'judge' and 'will', which appear in (3), are omitted in (4); how does an (alleged) analytic connection between (i) judging that if A, A as a result of B and (ii) its being the case that if one wills that A then one wills that B yield an analytic connection between (i) it's being the case that if A, A as a result of B and (ii) the 'proposition' that if let it be that A then let it be that B? Can the presence in (3) of the phrase "in so far as one is rational" legitimize this step? I do not know what remedy to propose for the first of these two difficulties; but I will attempt a reconstruction of Kant's line of argument which might provide relief from the second. It might, indeed, even be an expansion of Kant's actual thinking; but whether or not this is so, I am a very long way from being confident in its adequacy. Back to Strawson. First example:  ‘lf ice is left in the sun, it melts.’Or “If apple goes up, apple goes down.”Newton, “Principia Mathematica.” “If ice is left in the sun, it, viz. ice, melts.” Strawson’s second example of a formal, variable, generic, or general ‘if’ ‘If the side of a triangle is produced, the exterior angle is equal to the sum of the two interior and opposite angles.’ Cf. Kant: “If a line on an unerring principle is bisected, two intersecting arcs are drawn from its extremities.” Synthetical propositions must no doubt be employed in defining the means to a proposed end; but they do not concern the principle, the act of the will, but the object and its realization. E.g., that in order to bisect a line on an unerring principle I must draw from its extremities two intersecting arcs; this no doubt is taught by mathematics only in synthetical propositions; but if I know that it is only by this process that the intended operation can be performed, then to say that, if I fully will the operation, I also will the action required for it, is an analytical proposition; for it is one and the same thing to conceive something as an effect which I can produce in a certain way, and to conceive myself as acting in this way. Strawson’s third example: ‘If a child is very strictly disciplined in the nursery, it, viz. the child, that should be seen but not heard, will develop aggressive tendencies in adult life.’ To a statement made by the use of a sentence such as these there corresponds no single pair of statements which are, respectively, its antecedent and consequent.  On the other hand, for every such statement there is an indefinite number of NON-general, or not generic, hypothetical statements which might be called exemplifications, applications, of the variable hypothetical; e.g., a statement made by the use of the sentence ‘If THIS piece of ice is left in the sun, it, viz. this piece, melts.’Strawson, about to finish his section on “ ‘⊃’ and ‘if’,”the expression, ‘’ ⊃’ and ‘if’” only occurs in the “Table of Contents,” on p. viii, not in the body of the essay, as found redundantit is also the same title Strawson used for his essay which circulated (or ‘made the rounds’) soon after Grice delivered his attack on Strawson, and which Strawson had, first, the cheek to present it to PGRICE, and then, voiding the idea of a festschrift, reprint it in his own compilation of essays. -- from which Grice extracted the quote for “Prolegomena,” notes that there are two ‘relatively uncommon uses of ‘if.’‘If he felt embarrassed, he showed no signs of it.’It is this example that Grice is having in mind in the fourth lecture on ‘indicative conditionals.’ “he didn’t show it.”Grice is giving an instantiation of an IMPLICIT, or as he prefers, ‘contextual,’ cancellation of the implicaturum of ‘if.’  He does this to show that even if the implicaturum of ‘if’ is a ‘generalised,’ not ‘generic,’ or ‘general,’ one, it need not obtain or be present in every PARTICULAR case. “That is why I use the weakened form ‘generalISED, not general. It’s all ceteris paribus always with me).” The example Grice gives corresponds to the one Strawson listed as one of the two ‘relatively uncommon’ uses of ‘if.’ By sticking with the biscuit conditional, Grice is showing Strawson that this use is ‘relatively uncommon’ because it is absolutely otiose!  “If he was surprised, he didn’t show it.”Or cf. AustinIf you are hungry, there are. Variants by Grice on his own example:“If Strawson was surprised, he did not show it.”“If he was surprised, it is not the case that Strawson showed it, viz. that he was surprised.”Grice (on the phone with Strawson’s friend) in front of Strawsonpresent tense version:“If he IS surprised, it is not th case that he, Strawson, is showing it, viz. the clause that he is surprised. Are you implicating he SHOULD?”and a second group:‘If Rembrandt passes the exam at the Koninklijke Academie van Beeldende Kunsten, I am a Dutchman.’‘If the Mad Hatter is not mad, I'll eat my hat.’(as opposed to ‘If the Mad Hatter IS mad, I’ll eat HIS hat.’)Hats were made at Oxford in a previous generation, by mad ‘hatters.’ “To eat one’s hat,” at Oxford, became synonymous with ‘I’ll poison myself and die.’ The reason of the prevalence of Oxonian ‘lunatic’ hatters is chemical. Strawson is referring to what he calls an ‘old wives’ tale’As every grandmother at Oxford knows, the chemicals used in hat-making include mercurious nitrate, which is used in ‘curing’ felt. Now exposure to the mercury vapours cause mercury poisoning. Or, to use an ‘if’: “If Kant is exposed to mercury vapour, Kant gets poisoned. A poisoned victim  develops a severe and uncontrollable muscular tremors and twitching limbs, distorted vision and confused speech, hallucinations and psychosis, if not death. For a time, it was at Oxford believed that a wearer of a hat could similarly die, especially by eating the felt containing the mercurial nitrate. The sufficient and necessary condition of the truth of a statement made by “If he was surprised, it is not the case that Strawson showed it, viz. that he was surprised” is that it is not the case that Strawson showed that he was surprised. The antecedent is otiose. Cf. “If you are hungry, there are biscuits in the cupboard.’ Austin used to expand the otiose antecedent further, ‘If you are hungryAND EVEN IF YOU ARE NOTthere are biscuits in the cupboard,” just in case someone was ignorant of Grice’s principle of conversational helpfulness. Consequently, Strawson claims that such a statement cannot be treated either as a standard hypothetical or as a material implication. This is funny because by the time Grice is criticizing Strawson he does take “If Strawson is surprised, it is not the case that he is showing it, viz. that he is surprised.” But when it comes to “Touch the beast and it will bite you” he is ready to say that here we do not have a case of ‘conjunction.’Why? Stanford.Stanford is the answer.Grice had prepared the text to deliver at Stanford, of all places. Surely, AT STANFORD, you don’t want to treat your addressee idiotically. What Grice means is:“Now let us consider ‘Touch the beast and it will bite you.’ Symbolise it: !p et !q. Turn it into the indicative: You tell your love and love bites you (variant on William Blake).” Grice: “One may object to the  use of ‘p.q’ on Whiteheadian grounds. Blue-collared practitioners of the sciences will usually proclaim that they do not care about the ‘realisability’ of this or that operator. In fact, the very noun, ‘realisability,’ irritated me so that I coined non-detachability as a balance. The blue-collared scientist will say that ‘and’ is really Polish, and should be PRE-FIXED as an “if,” or condition, or proviso. So that the conjunction becomes “Provided you tell your love, love bites you.”Strawson gives his reason about the ‘implicaturum’ of what P. L. Gardiner called the ‘dutchman’ ‘if,’ after G. F. Stout’s “ ‘hat-eating’ if.”  Examples of the second kind are sometimes erroneously treated as evidence that Philo was not crazy, and that ‘if’ does, after all, behave somewhat as ‘⊃’ behaves.  Boethius appropriately comments: “Philo had two drawbacks against his favour. He had no drawing board, and he couldn’t write. Therefore he never symbolized, other than ‘via verba,’  his ‘ei’ utterance, “If it is day, it is night,” which he held to be true “at night only.”” Strawson echoes Grice. The evidence for this conversational explanation of the oddity of the ‘dutcham’ if, as called by Gardiner, and the ‘hat-eating’ if, as called by Stout, is, presumably, the facts, first, that the relation between antecedent and consequent is non-Kantian. Recall that Kant has a ‘Funktion’ which, after Aristotle’s ‘pros ti,’ and Boethius’s ‘relatio,’ he called ‘Relation’ where he considers the HYPOTHETICAL. Kant expands in section 8.5. “In the hypothetical, ‘If God exists, I’ll eat my hat,’ existence is no predicate.”Strawson appeals to a second, “more convincing,” fact, viz. that the consequent is obviously notin the Dutchman ‘if,’ or not to be, in the ‘hat-eating’ if, fulfilled, or true.Grice’s passing for a Dutchman and sitting for an exam at the Koninklijke Academie van Beeldende Kunsten, hardly makes him a Dutchman.Dickens was well aware of the idiocy of people blaming hatters for the increases of deaths at Oxford. He would often expand the consequent in a way that turned it “almost a Wittgensteinian ‘contradiction’” (“The Cricket in the House, vii). “If the Hatter is not mad, I will eat my hat, with my head in it.”Grice comments: “While it is analytic that you see with your eyes, it is not analytic that you eat with your mouth. And one can imagine Dickens’s mouth to be situated in his right hand. Therefore, on realizing that the mad hatter is not mad, Dickens is allowing for it to be the case that he shall eat his hat, with his head in it. Since not everybody may be aware of the position of Dickens’s mouth, I shall not allot this common-ground status.”Strawson gives a third Griciean fact.“The intention of the emissor, by uttering a ‘consequens falsum’ that renders the ‘conditionalis’ ‘verum’ only if the ‘antecedens’ is ‘falsum, is an emphatic, indeed, rude, gesture, with a gratuitious nod to Philo, to the conviction that the antecedens is not fulfilled either. The emissor is further abiding by what Grice calls the ‘principle of truth,’ for the emissor would rather see himself dead than uttering a falsehood, even if he has to fill the conversational space with idiocies like ‘dutchman-being’ and ‘hat-eating.’ The fourth Griceian fact is obviously Modus Tollendo Tollens, viz. that  “(p ⊃ q) . ~q” entails “~p,” or rather, to avoid the metalanguage (Grice’s Bootlace: Don’t use a metalanguage: you can only implicate that your object-language is not objectual.”), “[(p ⊃ q) . ~ q] ⊃ ~ p.”At this point, Strawson reminisces: “I was slightly surprised that on my first tutorial with Grice, he gave me “What the Tortoise Said To Achilles,” with the hint, which I later took as a defeasible implicaturum, “See if you can resolve this!” ACHILLEs had overtaken the Tortoise, and had seated himself comfortably on its back. "So you've got to the end of our race-course?" said the Tortoise. "Even though it does consist of an infinite series of distances ? I thought some wiseacre or other had proved that the thing couldnl't be doiie ? " " It can be done," said Achilles. " It has been done! Solvitur ambulando. You see the distances were constaiitly diminishing; and so-" "But if they had beenl constantly increasing?" the Tortoise interrupted. "How then?" "Then I shouldn't be here," Achilles modestly replied; "and you would have got several times round the world, by this time! " "You flatter me-flatten, I mean," said the Tortoise; "for you are a heavy weight, and no mistake! Well now, would you like to hear of a race-course, that most people fancy they can get to the end of in two or three steps, while it really consists of an infinite number of distances, each one longer than the previous one? " "Very much indeed !" said the Grecian warrior, as he drew from his helmet (few Grecian warriors possessed pockets in those days) an enormous note-book and a pencil. "Proceed! And speak slowly, please! Shorthand 't invented yet !" "That beautiful First Proposition of Euclid! " the Tortoise miurmured dreamily. "You admire Euclid?" "Passionately! So far, at least, as one can admire a treatise that wo'n't be published for some centuries to come ! " "Well, now, let's take a little bit of the argument in that First Proposition-just two steps, and the conclusion drawn from them. Kindly enter them in your note-book. And in order to refer to them conveniently, let's call them A, B, and Z:- (A) Things that are equal to the same are equal to each other. (B) The two sides of this Triangle are things that are equal to the same. (Z) The two sides of this Triangle are equal to each other. Readers of Euclid will grant, I suppose, that Z follows logically from A and B, so that any one who accepts A and B as true, must accept Z as true?" " Undoubtedly! The youngest child in a High School-as. soon as High Schools are invented, which will not be till some two thousand years later-will grant that." " And if some reader had not yet accepted A and B as true, he might still accept the sequence as a valid one, I suppose?" NOTES. 279 "No doubt such a reader might exist. He might say 'I accept as true the Hypothetical Proposition that, if A and B be true, Z must be true; but, I don't accept A and B as true.' Such a reader would do wisely in abandoning Euclid, and taking to football." " And might there not also be some reader who would say ' I accept A anld B as true, but I don't accept the Hypothetical'?" "Certainly there might. He, also, had better take to football." "And neither of these readers," the Tortoise continued, "is as yet under any logical necessity to accept Z as true?" "Quite so," Achilles assented. "Well, now, I want you to consider me as a reader of the second kind, and to force me, logically, to accept Z as true." " A tortoise playing football would be--" Achilles was beginning " -an anomaly, of course," the Tortoise hastily interrupted. "Don't wander from the point. Let's have Z first, and football afterwards !" " I'm to force you to accept Z, am I?" Achilles said musingly. "And your present position is that you accept A and B, but you don't accept the Hypothetical-" " Let's call it C," said the Tortoise. "-but you don't accept (C) If A and B are true, Z must be true." "That is my present position," said the Tortoise. "Then I must ask you to accept C.""I'll do so," said the Tortoise, "as soon as you've entered it in that note-book of yours. What else have you got in it?" " Only a few memoranda," said Achilles, nervously fluttering the leaves: "a few memoranda of-of the battles in which I have distinguished myself!" "Plenty of blank leaves, I see !" the Tortoise cheerily remarked. "We shall need them all !" (Achilles shuddered.) "Now write as I dictate: (A) Things that are equal to the same are equal to each other. (B) The two sides of this Triangle are things that are equal to the same. (C) If A and B are true, Z must be true. (Z) The two sides of this Triangle are equal to each other." " You should call it D, not Z," said Achilles. " It comes next to the other three. If you accept A and B and C, you must accept Z." "And why must I?" "Because it follows logically from them. If A and B and C are true, Z must be true. You don't dispute that, I imagine ?" "If A and B and C are true, Z must be true," the Tortoise thoughtfully repeated. " That's another Hypothetical, 't it? And, if I failed to see its truth, I might accept A and B and C, and still not accept Z, mightn't I?" "You might," the candid hero admitted; "though such obtuseness would certainly be phenomenal. Still, the event is possible. So I must ask you to grant one more Hypothetical." " Very good. I'm quite willing to grant it, as soon as you've written it down. We will call it (D) If A and B and C are true, Z must be true. Have you entered that in your note-book ? " " I have! " Achilles joyfully exclaimed, as he ran the pencil into its sheath. "And at last we've got to the end of this ideal race-course! Now that you accept A and B and C and D, of course you accept Z." " Do I ? " said the Tortoise innocently. " Let's make that quite clear. I accept A and B and C and D. Suppose I still refused to accept Z? " 280 NOTES. " Then Logic would take you by the throat, and force you to do it !" Achilles triumphantly replied. "Logic would tell you 'You ca'n't help yourself. Now that you've accepted A and B and C and D, you mvust accept Z!' So you've no choice, you see." "Whatever Logic is good enough to tell me is worth writing down," said the Tortoise. " So enter it in your book, please. We will call it (E) If A and B and C and Dare true, Zmust be true. Until I've granted that, of course I needn't grant Z. So it's quite a necessary step, you see?" "I see," said Achilles; and there was a touch of sadness in his tone. Here the narrator, having pressing business at the Bank, was obliged to leave the happy pair, and did not again pass the spot until some months afterwards. When he did so, Achilles was still seated on the back of the much-enduring Tortoise, and was writing in his note-book, which appeared to be nearly full. The Tortoise was saying " Have you got that last step written down ? Unless I've lost count, that makes a thousand and one. There are several millions more to come. And would you mind, as a personal favour, considering what a lot of instruction this colloquy of ours will provide for the Logicians of the Nineteenth Century-would you mnind adopting a pun that my cousin the Mock-Turtle will then make, and allowing yourself to be re-named Taught- Us ?" "As you please !" replied the weary warrior, in the hollow tones of despair, as he buried his face in his hands. " Provided that you, for your part, will adopt a pun the Mock-Turtle never made, and allow yourself to be re-named A Kill-Ease !"Strawon protests:“But this is a strange piece of logic.”Grice corrects: “Pieceyou mean ‘piece’ simpliciter.”“But what do you protest that much!?”“Well, it seems that, on any possible interpretation, “if p, q” has, in respect of modus tollendo tollens the same powers as ‘p ⊃ q.’“And it is just these  powers that you, and Cook Wilson before you, are jokingly (or fantastically) exploiting!”“Fantastically?” “You call Cook Wilson ‘fantastical’? You can call me exploitative.’Strawson: “It is the absence of Kantian ‘Relation,’ Boethius’s ‘relatio,’ Aristotle’s ‘pros ti,’ referred to in that makes both Stout’s hat-eating if and Gardiner’s dutchman if quirks (as per Sir Randolph Quirk, another Manx, like Quine), a verbal or conversational flourish, an otiosity, alla Albritton, an odd, call it Philonian, use of ‘if.’ If a hypothetical statement IS, as Grice, after Philo, claims, is what Whitehead and Russell have as a ‘material’ implication, the statements would be not a quirkish oddity, but a linguistic sobriety and a simple truth. Or rather they are each, the dutchman  if and the hat-eating if, each a ‘quirkish oddity’ BECAUSE each is a simple, sober, truth. “Recall my adage,” Grice reminded Strawson, “Obscurely baffling, but Hegelianly true!”Strawson notes, as a final commentary on the relevant section, that ‘if’  can be employed PERFORMATORILY, which will have Grice finding his topic for the Kant lectures at Stanford: “must” is univocal in “Apples must fall,” and “You must not lie.”An ‘if’ is used ‘performatorily’ when it is used not simply in making this or that statement, but in, e.g., making a provisional announcement of an intention. Strawson’s example:“If it rains, I shall stay at home.”Grice corrected:“*I* *will* stay at home. *YOU* *shall.*”“His quadruple implicatura never ceased to amaze me.”Grice will take this up later in ‘Ifs and cans.’“If I can, I intend to climb Mt Everest on hands and knees, if I may disimplicate that to Davidson.”This hich, like an unconditional announcement of intention, Strawson “would rather not” call ‘truly true’ or ‘falsely false.’ “I would rather describe it in some other wayGriceian perhaps.” “A quessertion, not to be iterated.”“If the man who utters the quoted sentence leaves home in spite of the rain, we do not say that what he said was false, though we might say that he lied (never really intended to stay in) ; or that he changed his mindwhich, Strawson adds, “is a form of lying to your former self.” “I agreed with you!” Grice screamed from the other side of the Quadrangle!Strawson notes: “There are further uses of ‘if’ which I shall not discuss.”This is a pantomime for Austin (Strawson’s letter to Grice, “Austin wants me to go through the dictionary with ‘if.’ Can you believe it, Grice, that the OED has NINE big pages on it?! And the sad thing is that Austin has already did ‘if’ in “Ifs and cans.” Why is he always telling OTHERS what to do?”Strawson’s Q. E. D.: “The safest way to read the material implication sign is, perhaps, ‘not both … and not …,” and avoid the ‘doubt’ altogether. (NB: “Mr. H. P. Grice, from whom I never ceased to learn about logic since he was my tutor for my Logic paper in my PPE at St. John’s back in the day, illustrates me that ‘if’ in Frisian means ‘doubt.’ And he adds, “Bread, butter, green cheese; very good English, very good Friese!”. GROUP C“Performatory” theoriesdescriptive, quasi-descriptive, prescriptiveexamples not lettered.EXAMPLE I: Strawson on ‘true’ in Analysis.EXAMPLE II: Austin on ‘know’ EXAMPLE III: Hare on ‘good.’EXPLICITLY CONVEYED: if p, qIMPLICITLY CONVEYED: p is the consequensCANCELLATION: “I know perfectly well where your wife is, but all I’ll say is that if she is not in kitchen she is in the bedroom.”Next would be to consider uses of ‘implication’ in the essay on the ‘indicative conditional.’ We should remember that the titling came out in 1987. The lecture circulated without a title for twenty years. And in fact, it is about ‘indicative conditional’ AND MORE BESIDES, including Cook Wilson, if that’s a plus. Grice states the indirectness condition in two terms:One in the obviously false terms “q is INFERRABLE, that’s the word Grice uses, from p”The other one is in terms of truth-value assignment:The emissor has NON-TRUTH-FUNCTIONAL GROUNDS for the emissum, ‘if p, q’. In Grice’s parlance: “Grounds for ACCEPTING “p ⊃ q.”This way Grice chooses is controversial in that usually he holds ‘accept’ as followed by the ‘that’-clause. So ‘accepting ‘p ⊃ q’” is not clear in that respect. A rephrase would be, accepting that the emissor is in a position to emit, ‘if p, q’ provided that what he EXPLICITLY CONVEYS by that is what is explicitly conveyed by the Philonian ‘if,’ in other words, that the emissor is explicitly conveying that it is the case of p or it is not the case of q, or that it is not the case that a situation obtains such that it is the case that p and it is not the case that q.“p ⊃ q” is F only in the third row. It is no wonder that Grice says that the use-mention was only used correctly ONCE.For Grice freely uses ‘the proposition that p ⊃ q.’ But this may be licensed because it was meant as for ‘oral delivery.’ THE FIRST INSTANTIATION GRICE GIVES (WoW:58) is“If Smith is in London, he, viz. Smith, is attending the meeting.”Grice goes on (WoW:59) to give FIVE alternatives to the ‘if’ utterance, NOT using ‘if.’ For the first four, he notes that he fells the ‘implicaturum’ of ‘indirectness’ seems ‘persistent.’On WoW:59, Grice refers to Strawson as a ‘strong theorist,’ and himself as a ‘weak theorist,’ i. e. an Occamist. Grice gives a truth-table or the ‘appropriate truth table,’ and its formulation, and notes that he can still detect the indirectness condition implication. Grice challenges Strawson. How is one to learn that what one conveys by the scenario formulated in the truth-table for the pair “Smith is in London” and “Smith is attending the meeting”without using ‘if’ because this is Grice’s exercise in detachmentis WEAKER than what one would convey by “If Smith is in London, he, viz. Smith, is attending the meeting”?This sort of rhetorical questions“Of course he can’t” are a bit insidious. Grice failed to give Strawson a copy of the thing. And Strawson is then invited to collaborate with P. G. R. I. C. E., so he submits a rather vague “If and ⊃,” getting the rebuke by Grice’s friend Bennett“Strawson could at least say that Grice’s views were published in three different loci.” BUT: Strawson compiled that essay in 1968. And Strawson was NOT relying on a specific essay by Grice, but on his memory of the general manoeuvre. Grice had been lecturing on ‘if’ before at Oxford, in seminars entitled “Logic and Convesation.” But surely at Oxford you are not supposed to ‘air’ your seminar views. Outside Oxford it might be different. It shoud not!And surely knowing Grice, why would *GRICE* provide the input to Strawson. For Grice, philosophy is very personal, and while Grice might have thought that Sir Peter was slightly interested in what his former tutor would say about ‘if,’ it would be inappropriate of the tutor to overwhelm the tutee, or keep informing the tutee how wrong he is. For a tutor, once a tutee, always a tutee. On WoW:59, Grice provides the FIRST CANCELLATION of an ‘if,’ and changes it slightly from the one on p. 58. The ‘if’ now becomesIf Smith is in the library, he, viz. Smith, is working.’In Wiltshire:“If Smith is in the swimming-pool library, he, viz. Smith, is swimming.”THE CANCELLATION GOES by ‘opting out’:“I know just where Smith is and what he, viz. Smith, is doing, but all I will tell you is that if he is in the library he is working.”Grice had to keep adding his ‘vizes’viz. Smithbecause of the insidious contextualistssome of them philosophical!“What do you mean ‘he,’are you sure you are keeping the denotatum constant?”Grice is challenging Strawson’s ‘uncertainty and disbelief.’No one would be surprised if Grice’s basis for his saying “I know just where Smith is and what he, viz. Smith, is doing, but all I will tell you is that if he is in the library, he is working” is that Grice has just looked in the library and found Smith working. So, Grice IS uttering “If Smith is in the library, he is working” WHEN THE INDIRECT (strong) condition ceteris-paribus carried by what Grice ceteris paribus IMPLIES by uttering “If Smith is in the library, Smith is working.”The situation is a bit of the blue, because Grice presents it on purpose as UNVOLUNTEERED. The ‘communication-function’ does the trick. GRICE THEN GIVES (between pages WoW: 59 and 60) TWO IMPLICIT cancellations of an implicaturum, or, to avoid the alliteration, ‘contextual’ cancellation. Note incidentally that Grice is aware of the explicit/implicit when he calls the cancellation, first, EXPLICIT, and then contextual. By ‘explicit,’ he means, ‘conveying explicitly’ in a way that commits you. THE THIRD INSTANTIATION refers to this in what he calls a ‘logical’ puzzle, which may be a bit question-begging, cf. ‘appropriate truth-table.’ For Strawson would say that Grice is using ‘if’ as a conscript, when it’s a civil. “If Smith has black, Mrs. Smith has black.”Grice refers to ‘truth-table definition’ OR STIPULATION. Note that the horseshoe is an inverted “C” for ‘contentum.’F. Cajori, “A history of mathematical notations,” SYMBOLS IN MATHEMATICAL LOGIC, §667-on : [§674] “A theory of the ‘meccanisme du raisonnement’ is offered by J. D. Gergonne in his “Essai de dialectique rationnelle.”In Gergonne’s “Essai,” “H” stands for complete logical disjunction, X” for logical product, “I” for "identity," [cf. Grize on izzing] “C” for "contains," and "Ɔ (inverted C)" for "is contained in."  [§685] Gergonne is using the Latinate, contineoIn rhet., the neuter substantive “contĭnens” is rendered as  “that on which something rests or depends, the chief point, hinge: “causae,” Cic. Part. Or. 29, 103; id. Top. 25, 95: “intuendum videtur, quid sit quaestio, ratio, judicatio, continens, vel ut alii vocant, firmamentum,” Quint. 3, 11, 1; cf. id. ib. § 18 sqq.—Adv.: contĭnen-ter . So it is a natural evolution in matters of implication. while Giusberti (“Materiale per studio,” 31) always reads “pro constanti,” the MSS occasionally has the pretty Griciean “precontenti,” from “prae” and “contenti.” Cf. Quine, “If my father was a bachelor, he was male. And I can say that, because ‘male’ is CONTAINED in ‘bachelor.’”E. Schröder, in his “Vorlesungen über die Algebra der Logik,” [§690]  Leipzig, uses “⊂” for "untergeordnet”, roughly, “is included in,” and the inverted “⊃” for the passive voice, "übergeordnet,” or includes.  Some additional symbols are introduced by Peano into Number 2 of Volume II of his influential “Formulaire.” Thus "ɔ" becomes ⊃. By “p.⊃ x ... z. q” is expressed “from p one DEDUCES, whatever x ... z may be, and q."  In “Il calcolo geometrico,”“according to the Ausdehnungslehre of H. Grassmann, preceded by the operations of deductive logic,” Peano stresses the duality of interpretations of “p.⊃ x ... z. q” in terms of classes and propositions. “We shall indicate [the universal affirmative proposition] by the expression  A < B, or B > A,  which can be read "every A is a B," or "the class B CONTAINS A." [...]  Hence, if a,b,... are CONDITIONAL propositions, we have:  a < b, or b > a, ‘says’ that "the class defined by the condition a is part of that defined by b," or [...] "b is a CONSEQUENCE of a," "if a is true, b is true."  In Peano’s “Arithmetices principia: nova methodo exposita,” we have:  “II. Propositions.” “The sign “C” means is a consequence of [“est consequentia.” Thus b C a is read b is a consequence of the proposition a.” “The sign “Ɔ” means one deduces [DEDUCITUR]; thus “a Ɔ b” ‘means’ the same as b C a. [...]  IV. Classes “The sign Ɔ ‘means’ is contained in. Thus a Ɔ b means class a is contained in class b.  a, b ∈ K Ɔ (a Ɔ b) :=: (x)(x ∈ a Ɔ x ∈ b).  In his “Formulaire,” Peano writes:  “Soient a et b des Cls. a ⊃ b signifie "tout a est b".  Soient p et q des propositions contenant une variable x; p ⊃x q, signifie "de p on déduit, quel que soit x, la q", c'est-à-dire: "les x qui satisfont à la condition p satisferont aussi à la q".  Russell criticizes Peano’s dualism in “The Principles of mathematics,” §13. “The subject of Symbolic Logic consists of three parts, the calculus of propositions, the calculus of classes and the calculus of relations. Between the first two, there is, within limits, a certain parallelism, which arises as follows: In any symbolic expression, the letters may be interpreted as classes or as propositions, and the relation of inclusion in the one case may be replaced by that of formal implication in the other.  A great deal has been made of this duality, and in the later editions of his “Formulaire,” Peano appears to have sacrificed logical precision to its preservation. But, as a matter of fact, there are many ways in which the calculus of propositions differs from that of classes.” Whiehead and Russell borrow the basic logical symbolism from Peano, but they freed it from the "dual" interpretation.  Thus, Whitehead and Russell adopt Schröder's ⊂ for class inclusion:  a ⊂ b :=: (x)(x ∈ a Ɔ x ∈ b) Df.  and restricted the use of the "horseshoe" ⊃ to the connective "if’: “p⊃q.’ Whitehead’s and Russell’s decision isobvious, if we consider the following example from Cesare Burali-Forti, “Logica Matematica,” a Ɔ b . b Ɔ c : Ɔ : a Ɔ c [...]  The first, second and fourth [occurrences] of the sign Ɔ mean is contained, the third one means one deduces.So the horseshoe is actually an inverted “C” meant to read “contentum” or “consequens” (“consequutum”). Active Nominal Forms Infinitive: implicā́re Present participle: implicāns; implicántis Future participle: implicītúrus; implicātúrus Gerund: implicándum Gerundive: implicándus  Passive Nominal Forms Infinitive: implicā́re Perfect participle: implicī́tum; implicā́tumGRICE’s second implicit or contextual cancellation does not involve a ‘logical puzzle’ but bridgeand it’s his fourth instantiation:“If I have a red king, I also have a black king.”to announce to your competititve opponents upon inquiry a bid of five no trumps. Cf. Alice, “The red Queen” which is a chess queen, as opposed to the white queen. After a precis, he gives a FIFTH instantiation to prove that ‘if’ is always EXPLICITLY cancellable.WoW:60“If you put that bit of sugar in water, it will dissolve, though so far as I know there can be no way of knowing in advance that this will happen.”This is complex. The cancellation turns the ‘if p, q’ into a ‘guess,’ in which case it is odd that the emissor would be guessing and yet be being so fortunate as to make such a good guess. At the end of page 60, Grice gives THREE FURTHER instantations which are both of philosophical importance and a pose a problem to such a strong theorist as Strawson.The first of the trio is:“If the Australians win the first Test, they will win the series, you mark my words.”The second of the trio is:“Perhaps if he comes, he will be in a good mood.”The third in the trio is:“See that, if he comes, he gets his money.”Grice’s point is that in the three, the implicaturum is cancelled. So the strong theorist has to modify the thesis ‘a sub-primary case of a sub-primary use of ‘if’ is…” which seems like a heavy penalty for the strong theorist. For Grice, the strong theorist is attaching the implicaturum to the ‘meaning’ of ‘if,’ where, if attached at all, should attach to some mode-marker, such as ‘probably,’ which may be contextual. On p. 61 he is finding play and using ‘logically weaker’ for the first time, i. e. in terms of entailment. If it is logically weaker, it is less informative. “To deny that p, or to assert that q.”Grice notes it’s ceteris paribus.“Provided it would be worth contributing with the ‘more informative’ move (“why deny p? Why assert q?) While the presumption that one is interested in the truth-values of at least p or q, this is ceteris paribus. A philosopher may just be interested in “if p, q” for the sake of exploring the range of the relation between p and q, or the powers of p and q. On p. 62 he uses the phrase “non-truth functional” as applied not to grounds but to ‘evidence’: “non-truth-functional evidence.”Grice wants to say that emissor has implicated, in a cancellable way, that he has non-truth-functional evidence for “if p, q,” i. e. evidence that proceeds by his inability to utter “if p, q” on truth-functional grounds. The emissor is signaling that he is uttering “if p, q” because he cannot deny p, or that he cannot assert q(p ⊃ q) ≡ ((~p) v q)Back to the first instantiation“If Smith is in London, he, viz. Smith is attending the meeting there, viz. in London”I IMPLICATE, in a cancellable way, that I have no evidence for “Smith is not in London”I IMPLICATE, in a cancellable way, that I have no evidence for “Smith is attending the lecture.On p. 61 he gives an example of an contextual cancellation to show that even if the implicaturum is a generalised one, it need not be present in every PARTICULAR case (hence the weakned form ‘generalISED, not general). “If he was surprised, he didn’t show it.”Or cf. AustinIf you are hungry, there are biscuits in the cupboard. Traditionalist Grice on the tranquil Elysium of philosophyĒlysĭum , ii, n., = Ἠλύσιον, the abode of the blest, I.Elysium, Verg. A. 5, 735 Serv.; 6, 542; 744 al.; cf. Heyne Verg. A. 6, 675 sq.; and ejusd. libri Exc. VIII. p. 1019 Wagn.—Hence, II. Ēlysĭus , a, um, adj., Elysian: “campi,” Verg. G. 1, 38; Tib. 1, 3, 58; Ov. Ib. 175; cf. “ager,” Mart. 10, 101: “plagae,” id. 6, 58: “domus,” Ov. M. 14, 111; cf. “sedes,” Luc. 3, 12: “Chaos,” Stat. Th. 4, 520: “rosae,” Prop. 4 (5), 7, 60. “puella,” i. e. Proserpine, Mart. 10, 24.—On p. 63, Grice uses ‘sense’ for the first time to apply to a Philonian ‘if p, q.’He is exploring that what Strawson would have as a ‘natural’ if, not an artificial ‘if’ like Philo’s, may have a sense that descends from the sense of the Philonian ‘if,’ as in Darwin’s descent of man. Grice then explores the ‘then’ in some formulations, ‘if p, then q’, and notes that Philo never used it, “ei” simpliciteror the Romans, “si.”Grice plays with the otiosity of “if p, in that case q.”And then there’s one that Grice dismisses as ultra-otiose:“if p, then, in that case, viz. p., q.”Grice then explores ‘truth-functional’ now applied not to ‘evidence’ but to ‘confirmation.’“p or q” is said to be truth-functionally confirmable.While “p horseshoe q’ is of course truth-functionally confirmable.Grice has doubts that ‘if p, q’ may be regarded by Strawson as NOT being ‘truth-functionally confirmable.’ If would involve what he previously called a ‘metaphysical excrescence.’Grice then reverts to his bridge example“If I have a red king, I have a black king.”And provides three scenarios for a post-mortem truth-functional confirmability.For each of the three rowsNo red, no blackRed, no blackRed, blackWhich goes ditto for  the ‘logical’ puzzleIf Jones has black, Mrs. Jones has black. The next crop of instantiations come from PM, and begins on p. 64.He kept revising these notes. And by the time he was submitting the essay to the publisher, he gives up and kept the last (but not least, never latter) version. Grice uses the second-floor ‘disagree,’ and not an explicit ‘not.’ So is partially agreeing a form of disagreeing? In 1970, Conservative Heath won to Labour Wilson.He uses ‘validate’for ‘confirm’. ‘p v q’ is validated iff proved factually satisfactory.On p. 66 he expands“if p, q”as a triple disjunction of the three rows when ‘if p, q’ is true:“(not-p and not-q) or (not-p and q) or (p and q)”The only left out is “(p and not-q).”Grice gives an instantiation for [p et]q“The innings closed at 3:15, Smith no batting.”as opposed to“The inning close at 3:15, and Smith did not bat.”as displayed byp.qAfter using ‘or’ for elections he gives the first instantation with ‘if’:“If Wilson will not be prime minister, it will be Heath.”“If Wilson loses, he loses to Heath.”‘if’ is noncommutativethe only noncommutative of the three dyadic truth-functors he considers (‘and,’ ‘or’ and ‘if’).This means that there is a ‘semantic’ emphasis here.There is a distinction between ‘p’ and ‘q’. In the case of ‘and’ and ‘or’ there is not, since ‘p and q’ iff ‘q and p’ and ‘p or q’ iff ‘q or p.’The distinction is expressed in terms of truth-sufficiency and false-sufficiency.The antecedent or protasis, ‘p’ is FALSE-SUFFICIENT for the TRUTH of ‘if p, q.’The apodosis is TRUE-sufficient for the truth of ‘if p, q.’On p. 67 he raises three questions.FIRST QUESTIONHe is trying to see ‘if’ as simpler:The three instantiations areIf Smith rings, the butler will let Smith inIt is not the case that Smith rings, or the butler will let Smith in.It is not the case both Smith rings and it is not the the butler will let Smith in. (Grice changes the tense, since the apodosis sometimes requires the future tense) (“Either Smith WILL RING…”)SECOND QUESTIONWhy did the Anglo-Saxons feel the need for ‘if’German ‘ob’? After all, if Whitehead and Russell are right, the Anglo-Saxons could have done with ‘not’ and ‘and,’ or indeed with ‘incompatible.’The reason is that ‘if’ is cognate with ‘doubt,’ but The Anglo-Saxons left the doubt across the North Sea. it originally from an oblique case of the substantive which may be rendered as "doubt,” and cognate with archaic German “iba,” which may be rendered as “condition, stipulation, doubt," Old Norse if "doubt, hesitation," modern Swedish jäf "exception, challenge")It’s all different with ‘ei’ and ‘si.’For sisī (orig. and ante-class. form seī ),I.conj. [from a pronominal stem = Gr. ἑ; Sanscr. sva-, self; cf. Corss. Ausspr. 1, 778; Georg Curtius Gr. Etym. 396], a conditional particle, if.As for “ei”εἰ , Att.-Ion. and Arc. (for εἰκ, v. infr. 11 ad init.), = Dor. and Aeol. αἰ, αἰκ (q. v.), Cypr.A.“ἤ” Inscr.Cypr.135.10 H., both εἰ and αἰ in Ep.:— Particle used interjectionally with imper. and to express a wish, but usu. either in conditions, if, or in indirect questions, whether. In the former use its regular negative is μή; in the latter, οὐ.THIRD QUESTION. Forgetting Grecian neutral apodosis and protasis, why did the Romans think that while ‘antecedens’ is a good Humeian rendition of ‘protasis,’ yet instead they chose for the Grecian Humeian ‘apodosis,’ the not necessarily Humeian ‘con-sequens,’ rather than mere ‘post-sequens’?The Latin terminology is antecedens and consequens, the ancestors and ... tothem the way the Greek grammatical termsή πρότασιs and ήαπόδοσιsBRADWARDINE: Note that a consequence is an argumentation made up of an antecedent and a consequent. He starts with the métiers.For ‘or’ he speaks of ‘semiotic economy’ (p. 69). Grice’s Unitarianismunitary particle.If, like iff, is subordinating, but only if is non-commutative. Gazdar considers how many dyadic particles are possible and why such a small bunch is chosen. Grice did not even care, as Strawson did, to take care of ‘if and only if.’ Grice tells us the history behind the ‘nursery rhyme’ about Cock Robin. He learned it from his mother, Mabel Fenton, at Harborne. Clifton almost made it forget it! But he recovered in the New World, after reading from Colin Sharp that many of those nursery rhymes travelled “with the Mayflower.” "Who Killed Cock Robin" is an English nursery rhyme, which has been much used as a murder archetype[citation needed] in world culture. It has a Roud Folk Song Index number of 494.  Contents 1Lyrics 2Origin and meaning 3Notes 4 External links Lyrics[edit] The earliest record of the rhyme is in Tommy Thumb's Pretty Song Book, published c. 1744, which noted only the first four verses. The extended version given below was not printed until c. 1770.  Who killed Cock Robin? I, said the Sparrow, with my bow and arrow, I killed Cock Robin. Who saw him die? I, said the Fly, with my little eye, I saw him die. Who caught his blood? I, said the Fish, with my little dish, I caught his blood. Who'll make the shroud? I, said the Beetle, with my thread and needle, I'll make the shroud. Who'll dig his grave? I, said the Owl, with my little trowel, I'll dig his grave. Who'll be the parson? I, said the Rook, with my little book, I'll be the parson. Who'll be the clerk? I, said the Lark, if it's not in the dark, I'll be the clerk. Who'll carry the link? I, said the Linnet, I'll fetch it in a minute, I'll carry the link. Who'll be chief mourner? I, said the Dove, I mourn for my love, I'll be chief mourner. Who'll carry the coffin? I, said the Kite, if it's not through the night, I'll carry the coffin. Who'll bear the pall? We, said the Wren, both the cock and the hen, We'll bear the pall. Who'll sing a psalm? I, said the Thrush, as she sat on a bush, I'll sing a psalm. Who'll toll the bell? I, said the Bull, because I can pull, I'll toll the bell. All the birds of the air fell a-sighing and a-sobbing, when they heard the bell toll for poor Cock Robin. The rhyme has often been reprinted with illustrations, as suitable reading material for small children.[citation needed] The rhyme also has an alternative ending, in which the sparrow who killed Cock Robin is hanged for his crime. Several early versions picture a stocky, strong-billed bullfinch tolling the bell, which may have been the original intention of the rhyme.  Origin and meaning[edit] Although the song was not recorded until the mid-eighteenth century, there is some evidence that it is much older. The death of a robin by an arrow is depicted in a 15th-century stained glass window at Buckland Rectory, Gloucestershire, and the rhyme is similar to a story, Phyllyp Sparowe, written by John Skelton about 1508. The use of the rhyme 'owl' with 'shovel', could suggest that it was originally used in older middle English pronunciation. Versions of the story appear to exist in other countries, including Germany.  A number of the stories have been advanced to explain the meaning of the rhyme:  The rhyme records a mythological event, such as the death of the god Balder from Norse mythology, or the ritual sacrifice of a king figure, as proposed by early folklorists as in the 'Cutty Wren' theory of a 'pagan survival'. It is a parody of the death of King William II, who was killed by an arrow while hunting in the New Forest (Hampshire) in 1100, and who was known as William Rufus, meaning "red". The rhyme is connected with the fall of Robert Walpole's government in 1742, since Robin is a diminutive form of Robert and the first printing is close to the time of the events mentioned. All of these theories are based on perceived similarities in the text to legendary or historical events, or on the similarities of names. Peter Opie pointed out that an existing rhyme could have been adapted to fit the circumstances of political events in the eighteenth century.  The theme of Cock Robin's death as well as the poem's distinctive cadence have become archetypes, much used in literary fiction and other works of art, from poems, to murder mysteries, to cartoons.  Notes[edit]  Jump up to:a b c d e f g h I. Opie and P. Opie, The Oxford Dictionary of Nursery Rhymes (Oxford University Press, 1951, 2nd edn., 1997),  130–3.  * Cock Robin at Project Gutenberg  M. C. Maloney, ed., English illustrated books for children: a descriptive companion to a selection from the Osborne Collection (Bodley Head, 1981)31.  Lockwood, W. B. "The Marriage of the Robin and the Wren." Folklore 100.2 (1989): 237–239.  The gentry house that became the old rectory at Buckland has an impressive timbered hall that dates from the fifteenth century with two lights of contemporary stained glass in the west wall with the rebus of William Grafton and arms of Gloucester Abbey in one and the rising sun of Edward IV in the other light; birds in various attitudes hold scrolls "In Nomine Jesu"; none is reported transfixed by an arrow in Anthony Emery, Greater Medieval Houses of England and Wales, 1300–1500: Southern England, s.v. "Buckland Old Rectory, Gloucestershire", (Cambridge University Press, 2006)80.  R. J. Stewart, Where is St. George? Pagan Imagery in English Folksong (1976).  B. Forbes, Make Merry in Step and Song: A Seasonal Treasury of Music, Mummer's Plays & Celebrations in the English Folk Tradition (Llewellyn Worldwide, 2009)5.  J. Harrowven, The origins of rhymes, songs and sayings (Kaye & Ward, 1977)92. External links[edit] Children's literature portal Death and Burial of Poor Cock Robin, by H. L. Stephens, from Project Gutenberg Death and Burial of Poor Cock Robin From the Collections at the Library of Congress Categories: Robert Walpole1744 songsFictional passerine birdsEnglish nursery rhymesSongwriter unknownEnglish folk songsEnglish children's songsTraditional children's songsSongs about birdsSongs about deathMurder balladsThe train from Oakland to Berkeley.Grice's aunt once visited him, and he picked her up at the Oakland Railway Station. On p. 74, Grice in terms of his aunt, mentions for the first time ‘premise’ and ‘conclusion.’On same p. for the record he uses ‘quality’ for affirmative, negative or infinite. On p. 74 he uses for the first time, with a point, the expression ‘conditional’ as attached to ‘if.’Oddly on the first line of p. 75, he uses ‘material conditional,’ which almost nobody doesexcept for a blue-collared practitioner of the sciences. ‘Material’ was first introduced by blue-collared Whitehead and Russell, practictioners of the sciences. They used ‘material’ as applied to ‘implication,’ to distinguish it, oddly, and unclassily, from ‘formal’ implication. It is only then he quotes Wilson verbatim in quotes“The question whether so and so is a case of a question whether such and such” This actually influenced Collingwood, and Grice is trying to tutor Strawson here once more!For the logic of question and answer has roots in the very philosophy that it was ... is John Cook Wilson, whose Statement and Inference can be regarded as the STATEMENT AND ITS RELATION TO THINKING AND APREHENSIOTHE DISTINCTION OF SUBJECT AND PREDICATE IN LOGIC AND GRAMMAR The influence of Strawson on Cook Wilson.“The building is the Bodleian.”As answer to“What is that building?”“Which building is the Bodleian”If the proposition is answer to first question, ‘that building’ is the subject, if the proposition is answer to second question, ‘the bodleian’ is the subject. Cf. “The exhibition was not visited by a bald kingof France, as it doesn’t happen.SUBJECT AS TOPICPREDICATE AS COMMENT.Cf. Grice, “The dog is a shaggy thig”What is shaggy?What is the dog?THIS DOGSubjectTopicTHAT SHAGGY THINGSubjectoccasionally, but usually Predicate, Comment.In fact, Wilson bases on StoutI am hungryWho is hungry?: subject IIs there anything amiss with you? ‘hungry’ is the subjectAre you really hungry? ‘am’ is the subject.Grice used to be a neo-Stoutian before he turned a neo-Prichardian so he knew. But perhaps Grice thought better of Cook Wilson. More of a philosopher. Stout seemed to have been seen as a blue-collared practioner of the SCIENCE of psychology, not philosophical psychology! Cf. Leicester-born B. Mayo, e: Magdalen, Lit. Hum. (Philosophy) under? on ‘if’ and Cook Wilson in Analysis.Other example by Wilson:“Glass is elastic.”Grice is motivated to defend Cook Wilson because Chomsky was criticizing him (via a student who had been at Oxford). [S]uppose instruction was being given in the properties of glass, and the instructor said ‘glass is elastic’, it would be natural to say that what was being talkedabout and thought about was ‘glass’, and that what was said of it was that it was elastic. Thus glass would be the subject and that it is elastic would be the predicate. (Cook Wilson 1926/1969,  1:117f.) What Cook Wilson discusses here is a categorical sentence. The next two quotes are concerned with an identificational sentence. [I]n the statement ‘glass is elastic’, if the matter of inquiry was elasticity and the question was what substances possessed the property of elasticity, glass, in accordance with the principle of the definition, would no longer be subject, and the kind of stress which fell upon ‘elastic’ when glass was the subject, would now be transferred to ‘glass’. [. . .] Thus the same form of words should be analyzed differently according as the words are the answer to one question or another. (Cook Wilson 1926/1969,  1:119f.) When the stress falls upon ‘glass’, in ‘glass is elastic’, there is no word in the sentence which denotes the actual subject elasticity; the word ‘elastic’ refers to what is already known of the subject, and glass, which has the stress, is the only word which refers to the supposed new fact in the nature of elasticity, that it is found in glass. Thus, according to the proposed formula, ‘glass’ would have to be the predicate. [. . .] Introduction and overview  But the ordinary analysis would never admit that ‘glass’ was the predicate in the given sentence and elasticity the subject. (Cook Wilson 1926/1969,  1:121)H. P. Grice knew that P. F. Strawson knew of J. C. Wilson  on “That building is the Bodleian” via Sellars’s criticism.There is  a  strong suggestion  in  Sellars' paper  that I would  have done better if I had stuck to Cook Wilson. This suggestion I want equally strongly to  repudiate.  Certainly  Cook  Wilson  draws  attention to  an interesting difference in ways  in which  items may appear in discourse. It may be roughly  expressed  as follows. When we  say Glass is elastic we may be talking  about glass or we may be talking about elasticity (and we may, in the relevant sense of  'about' be doing neither). We are talking about glass if  we are citing elasticity  as one of  the properties  of  glass, we  are talking  about  elasticity if  we  are  citing glass as one of  the substances which  are elastic.  Similarly when we  say Socrates is wise,  we  may be citing Socrates as an instance of  wisdom or wisdom as one of  the proper- ties  of  Socrates. And of  course  we  may be  doing neither  but, e.g., just imparting  miscellaneous  information.  Now  how,  if  at all,  could  this difference help me with my question? Would  it help at all, for example, if  it were plausible (which it is not) to say that we  were inevitably more interested in determining what properties  a given particular had,than in determining what particular had a given property? Wouldn't  this at least suggest that particulars were the natural subjects, in the sense of  subjects of  &amp;erest?  Let me  answer this question  by the reminder  that what I have  to  do  is to establish  a connexion  between some formal  linguistic difference  and a  category  difference;  and  a  formal  linguistic  difference is one which logic can take cognizance of, in abstraction from pragmatic considerations,  like  the direction of  interest. Such  a  formal  ditference exists in the difference between appearing in discourse directly designated and  appearing  in  discourse under  the cloak of  quantification. ““But the difference in the use  of  unquantified  statements to which Cook Wilson draws attention is not a formal difference at all.”Both glass and elasticity, Socrates  and wisdom appear named  in  such  statements, whichever, in Cook  Wilson's  sense,  we  are talking about. An  appeal  to  pragmatic considerations  is,  certainly, an essential  part  of  my  own  account  at  a certain point: but this is the point  at which such considerations are in- voked to explain why  a certain formal difference should  be particularly closely linked, in common speech, with a certain category difference. The difference  of  which Cook  Wilson speaks is, then, though  interesting in itself, irrelevant to my question. Cook Wilson is, and I am not, concerned with  what  Sellars calls  dialectical  distinctions.” On p.76 Grice mentions for the first time the “ROLE” of if in an indefinite series of ‘interrogative subordination.”For Cook Wilson,as Price knew (he quotes him in Belief), the function of ‘if’ is to LINK TWO QUESTIONS. You’re the cream in my coffee as ‘absurd’ if literally (p. 83). STATEMENT In this entry we will explore how Grice sees the ‘implicaturum’ that he regards as ‘conversational’ as applied to the emissor and in reference to the Graeco-Roman classical tradition. Wht is implicated may not be the result of any maxim, and yet not conventionaldepending on a feature of context. But nothing like a maximStrawson Wiggins p. 523. Only a CONVERSATIONAL IMPLICATURUM is the result of a CONVERSATIONAL MAXIM and the principle of conversational helpfulness. In a ‘one-off’ predicament, there may be an ‘implicaturum’ that springs from the interaction itself. If E draws a skull, he communicates that there is danger. If addressee runs away, this is not part of the implicaturum. This Grice considers in “Meaning.” “What is meant” should cover the immediate effect, and not any effect that transpires out of the addressee’s own will. Cf. Patton on Kripke. One thief to another: “The cops are coming!” The expressiom “IMPLICATION” is figures, qua entry, in a philosophical dictionary that Grice consulted at Oxford. In the vernacular, there are two prominent relata: entailment and implicaturum, the FRENCH have their “implication.” When it comes to the Germans, it’s more of a trick. There’s the “nachsichziehen,” the “zurfolgehaben,” the “Folge(-rung),” the “Schluß,” the “Konsequenz,” and of course the “Implikation” and the “Implikatur,” inter alia.  In Grecian, which Grice learned at Clifton, we have the “sumpeplegmenon,” or “συμπεπλεγμένον,” if you must, i. e. the “sum-peplegmenon,” but there’s also the “sumperasma,” or “συμπέϱασμα,” if you must, “sum-perasma;” and then there’s the “sunêmmenon,” or “συνημμένον,” “sun-emmenon,” not to mention (then why does Grice?) the “akolouthia,” or “ἀϰολουθία,” if you must, “akolouthia,” and the “antakolouthia,” ἀνταϰολουθία,” “ana-kolouthia.” Trust clever Cicero to regard anything ‘Grecian’ as not displaying enough gravitas, and thus rendering everything into Roman. There’s the “illatio,” from ‘in-fero.’ The Romans adopted two different roots for this, and saw them as having the same ‘sense’cf. referro, relatum, proferro, prolatum; and then there’s the “inferentia,”– in-fero; and then there’s the “consequentia,” -- con-sequentia. The seq- root is present in ‘sequitur,’ non sequitur. The ‘con-‘ is transliterating Greek ‘syn-’ in the three expressions with ‘syn’: sympleplegmenon, symperasma, and synemmenon. The Germans, avoiding the Latinate, have a ‘follow’ root: in “Folge,” “Folgerung,” and the verb “zur-folge-haben. And perhaps ‘implicatio,’  which is the root Grice is playing with. In Italian and French it underwent changes, making ‘to imply’ a doublet with Grice’s ‘to implicate’ (the form already present, “She was implicated in the crime.”). The strict opposite is ‘ex-plicatio,’ as in ‘explicate.’ ‘implico’ gives both ‘implicaturum’ and ‘implicitum.’ Consequently, ‘explico’ gives both ‘explicatum’ and ‘explicitum.’ In English Grice often uses ‘impicit,’ and ‘explicit,’ as they relate to communication, as his ‘implicaturum’ does. His ‘implicaturum’ has more to do with the contrast with what is ‘explicit’ than with ‘what follows’ from a premise. Although in his formulation, both readings are valid: “by uttering x, implicitly conveying that q, the emissor CONVERSATIONALY implicates that p’ if he has explicitly conveyed that p, and ‘q’ is what is required to ‘rationalise’ his conversational behavioiur. In terms of the emissor, the distinction is between what the emissor has explicitly conveyed and what he has conversationally implicated. This in turn contrasts what some philosophers refer metabolically as an ‘expression,’ the ‘x’ ‘implying’ that pGrice does not bother with this because, as Strawson and Wiggins point out, while an emissor cannot be true, it’s only what he has either explicitly or implicitly conveyed that can be true. As Austin says, it’s always a FIELD where you do the linguistic botany. So, you’ll have to vide and explore: ANALOGY, PROPOSITION, SENSE, SUPPOSITION, and TRUTH. Implication denotes a relation between propositions and statements such that, from the truth-value of the protasis or antecedent (true or false), one can derive the truth of the apodosis or consequent. More broadly, we can say that one idea ‘implies’ another if the first idea cannot be thought without the second one -- RT: Lalande, Vocabulaire technique et critique de la philosophie. Common usage makes no strict differentiation between “to imply,” “to infer,” and “to lead to.” Against Dorothy Parker. She noted that those of her friends who used ‘imply’ for ‘infer’ were not invited at the Algonquin. The verb “to infer,” (from Latin, ‘infero,’ that gives both ‘inferentia,’ inference, and ‘illatio,’ ‘illatum’) meaning “to draw a consequence, to deduce” (a use dating to 1372), and the noun “inference,” meaning “consequence” (from 1606), do not on the face of it seem to be manifestly different from “to imply” and “implication.” But in Oxonian usage, Dodgson avoided a confusion. “There are two ways of confusing ‘imply’ with ‘infer’: to use ‘imply’ to mean ‘infer,’ and vice versa. Alice usually does the latter; the Dodo the former.” Indeed, nothing originally distinguishes “implication” as Lalande defines it — “a relation by which one thing ‘implies’ another”— from “inference” as it is defined in Diderot and d’Alembert’s Encyclopédie (1765): “An operation by which one ACCEPTS (to use a Griceism) a proposition because of its connection to other propositions held to be true.” The same phenomenon can be seen in the German language, in which the terms corresponding to “implication,” “Nach-sich-ziehen,” “Zur-folge-haben,” “inference,” “Schluß”-“Folgerung,” “Schluß,” “to infer,” “schließen,” “consequence,” “Folge” “-rung,” “Schluß,” “Konsequenz,” “reasoning,” “”Schluß-“ “Folgerung,” and “to reason,” “schließen,” “Schluß-folger-ung-en ziehen,” intersect or overlap to a large extent. In the French language, the expression “impliquer” reveals several characteristics that the expression does not seem to share with “to infer” or “to lead to.” First of all, “impliquer” is originally (1663) connected to the notion of contradiction, as shown in the use of impliquer in “impliquer contradiction,” in the sense of “to be contradictory.” The connection between ‘impliquer’ and ‘contradiction’ does not, however, explain how “impliquer” has passed into its most commonly accepted meaning — “implicitly entail” — viz. to lead to a consequence. Indeed, the two usages (“impliquer” connected with contradiction” and otherwise) constantly interfere with one another, which certainly poses a number of difficult problems. An analogous phenomenon can be found in the case of “import,” commonly given used as “MEAN” or “imply,” but often wavering instead, in certain cases, between “ENTAIL” and “imply.” In French, the noun “import” itself is generally left as it I (“import existentiel,” v. SENSE, Box 4, and cf. that’s unimportant, meaningless).  “Importer,” as used by Rabelais, 1536, “to necessitate, to entail,” forms via  It.“importare,” as used by Dante), from the Fr. “emporter,” “to entail, to have as a consequence,” dropped out of usage, and was brought back through Engl. “import.” The nature of the connection between the two primary usages of L. ‘implicare,’ It. ‘implicare,’ and Fr. ‘impliquer,’ “to entail IMPLICITitly” and “to lead to a consequence,” nonetheless remains obscure, but not to a Griceian, or Grecian. Another difficulty is understanding how the transition occurs from Fr. “impliquer,” “to lead to a consequence,” to “implication,” “a logical relation in which one statement necessarily supposes another one,” and how we can determine what in this precise case distinguishes “implication” from “PRAE-suppositio.” We therefore need to be attentive to what is implicit in Fr. “impliquer” and “implication,” to the dimension of Fr. “pli,” a pleat or fold, of Fr. “re-pli,” folding back, and of the Fr. “pliure,” folding, in order to separate out “imply,” “infer,” “lead to,” or “implication,” “inference,” “consequence”—which requires us to go back to Latin, and especially to medieval Latin. Once we clarify the relationship between the usage of “implication” and the medieval usage of “implicatio,” we will be able to examine certain derivations (as in Sidonius’s ‘implicatura,” and H. P. Grice’s “implicaturum,” after ‘temperature,’ from ‘temperare,’) or substitutes (“entailment”) of terms related to the generic field (for linguistic botanising) of “implicatio,” assuming that it is difficulties with the concept of implication (e. g., the ‘paradoxes,’ true but misleading, of material versus formal implication‘paradox of implication’ first used by Johnson 1921) that have given rise to this or that newly coined expression corresponding to this or that original attempt. This whole set of difficulties certainly becomes clearer as we leave Roman and go further upstream to Grecian, using the same vocabulary of implication, through the conflation of several heterogeneous gestures that come from the systematics in Aristotle and the Stoics. The Roman Vocabulary of Implication and the Implicatio has the necessary ‘gravitas,’ but Grice, being a Grecian at heart, found it had ‘too much gravitas,’ hence his ‘implicaturum,’ “which is like the old Roman ‘implicare,’ but for fun!” A number of different expressions in medieval Latin can express in a more or less equivalent manner the relationship between propositions and statements such that, from the truth-value of the antecedent (true or false), one can derive the truth-value of the consequent. There is “illatio,” and of course “illatum,” which Varro thought fell under ‘inferre.’ Then there’s the feminine noun, ‘inferentia,’ from the ‘participium praesens’ of ‘inferre,’ cf. ‘inferens’ and ‘ilatum.’ There is also ‘consequentia,’ which is a complex transliterating the Greek ‘syn-,’ in this case with ‘’sequentia,’ from the deponent verb. “I follow you.” Peter Abelard (Petrus Abelardus, v. Abelardus) makes no distinction in using the expression “consequentia” for the ‘propositio conditionalis,’ hypothetical. Si est homo, est animal. If Grice is a man, Grice is an animal (Dialectica, 473Abelardus uses ‘Greek man,’ not Grice.’ His implicaturum is ‘if a Greek man is a man, he is therefore also some sort of an animal’). But Abelardus also uses the expression “inferentia” for ‘same old same old’ (cf. “Implicaturum happens.”). Si non est iustus homo, est non iustus homo. Grice to Strawson on the examiner having given him a second. “If it is not the case that your examiner was a fair man, it follows thereby that your examiner was not a fair man, if that helps.” (Dialectica., 414).  For some reason, which Grice found obscure, ‘illatio” appears “almost always” in the context of commenting on Aristotle’s “Topics,”“why people found the topic commenting escapes me” -- aand denotes more specifically a reasoning, or “argumentum,” in Boethius, allowing for a “consequentia” to be drawn from a given place. So Abelardus distinguishes: “illatio a causa.” But there is also “illatio a simili.” And there is “iillatio a pari.” And there is “illatio a partibus.” “Con-sequentia” sometimes has a very generic usage, even if not as generic as ‘sequentia.” “Consequentia est quaedam habitudo inter antecedens et consequens,” “Logica modernorum,” 2.1:38Cfr. Grice on Whitehead as a ‘modernist’! Grice draws his ‘habit’ from the scholastic ‘habitudo.’ Noe that ‘antededens’ and ‘consequens.’ The point is a tautological formula, in terms of formation. Surely ‘consequentia’ relates to a ‘consequens,’ where the ‘consequens’ is the ‘participium praesens’ of the verb from which ‘consequentia’ derives. It’s like deving ‘love’ by ‘to have a beloved.’ “Consequentia” is in any case present, in some way, without the intensifier ‘syn,’ which the Roman gravitas added to transliterate the Greek ‘syn,’ i. e. ‘cum.’ -- in the expression “sequitur” and in the expression “con-sequitur,” literally, ‘to follow,’ ‘to ensue,’ ‘to result in’). Keenan told Grice that this irritated him. “If there is an order between a premise and a conclusion, I will stop using ‘follow,’ because that reverts the order. I’ll use ‘… yields …’ and write that ‘p yields q.’” “Inferentia,” which is cognate (in the Roman way of using this expression broadly) with ‘illatio,’ and ‘illatum,’ -- frequently appears, by contrast, and “for another Grecian reason,” as Grice would put it -- in the context of the Aristotle’s “De Interpretatione,” on which Grice lectures only with J. L. Austin (Grice lectured with Strawson on “Categoriae,” onlybut with Austin, from whom Grice learnedGrice lectured on both “Categoriae’ AND “De Interpretatione.” --  whether it is as part of a commentarium on Apuleius’s Isagoge and the Square of Oppositions (‘figura quadrata spectare”), in order to explain this or that “law” underlying any of the four sides of the square. So, between A and E we have ‘propositio opposita.’ Between A and I, and between E and O, we have propositio sub-alterna. Between A and O, and between E and I, we have propositio contradictoria. And between I and O, we have “propositio sub-alterna.” -- Logica modernorum, 2.1:115. This was irritatingly explored by P. F. Strawson and brought to H. P. Grice’s attention, who refused to accept Strawson’s changes and restrictions of the ‘classical’ validities (or “laws”) because Strawson felt that the ‘implication’ violated some ‘pragmatic rule,’ while still yielding a true statement. Then there’s the odd use of “inferentia” to apply to the different ‘laws’ of ‘conversio’ -- from ‘convertire,’ converting one proposition into another (Logica modernorum 131–39). Nevertheless, “inferentia” is used for the dyadic (or triadic, alla Peirce) relationship of ‘implicatio,’ which for some reason, the grave Romans were using for less entertaining things, and not this or that expressions from the “implication” family, or sub-field.  Surprisingly, a philosopher without a classical Graeco-Roman background could well be mislead into thinking that “implicatio” and “implication” are disparate! A number of treatises, usually written by monksSt. John’s, were Grice teaches, is a Cicercian monastery -- explore the “implicits.” Such a “tractatus” is not called ‘logico-philosophicus,’ but a “tractatus implicitarum,” literally a treatise on this or that  ‘semantic’ property of the proposition said to be an ‘implicaturum’ or an ‘implication,’ or ‘propositio re-lativa.’ This is Grice’s reference to the conversational category of ‘re-lation.’ “Re-latio” and “Il-latio” are surely cognate. The ‘referre’ is a bring back; while the ‘inferre’ is the bring in. The propositio is not just ‘brought’ (latum, or lata) it is brought back. Proposition Q is brought back (relata) to Proposition P. P and Q become ‘co-relative.’ This is the terminology behind the idea of a ‘relative clause,’ or ‘oratio relativa.’ E.g. “Si Plato tutee Socrates est, Socratos tutor Platonis est,” translated by Grice, “If Strawson was my tutee, it didn’t show!”. Now, closer to Grice “implicitus,” with an “i” following the ‘implic-‘ rather than the expected ‘a’ (implica), “implicita,” and “implicitum,” is an alternative “participium passatum” from “im-plic-are,” in Roman is used for “to be joined, mixed, enveloped.” implĭco (inpl- ), āvi, ātum, or (twice in Cic., and freq. since the Aug. per.) ŭi, ĭtum (v. Neue, Formenl. 2, 550 sq.), 1, v. a. in-plico, to fold into; hence, I.to infold, involve, entangle, entwine, inwrap, envelop, encircle, embrace, clasp, grasp (freq. and class.; cf.: irretio, impedio). I. Lit.: “involvulus in pampini folio se,” Plaut. Cist. 4, 2, 64: “ut tenax hedera huc et illuc Arborem implicat errans,” Cat. 61, 35; cf. id. ib. 107 sq.: “et nunc huc inde huc incertos implicat orbes,” Verg. A. 12, 743: “dextrae se parvus Iulus Implicuit,” id. ib. 2, 724; cf.: “implicuit materno bracchia collo,” Ov. M. 1, 762: “implicuitque suos circum mea colla lacertos,” id. Am. 2, 18, 9: “implicuitque comam laevā,” grasped, Verg. A. 2, 552: “sertis comas,” Tib. 3, 6, 64: “crinem auro,” Verg. A. 4, 148: “frondenti tempora ramo,” id. ib. 7, 136; cf. Ov. F. 5, 220: in parte inferiore hic implicabatur caput, Afran. ap. Non. 123, 16 (implicare positum pro ornare, Non.): “aquila implicuit pedes atque unguibus haesit,” Verg. A. 11, 752: “effusumque equitem super ipse (equus) secutus Implicat,” id. ib. 10, 894: “congressi in proelia totas Implicuere inter se acies,” id. ib. 11, 632: “implicare ac perturbare aciem,” Sall. J. 59, 3: “(lues) ossibus implicat ignem,” Verg. A. 7, 355.—In part. perf.: “quini erant ordines conjuncti inter se atque implicati,” Caes. B. G. 7, 73, 4: “Canidia brevibus implicatura viperis Crines,” Hor. Epod. 5, 15: “folium implicaturum,” Plin. 21, 17, 65, § 105: “intestinum implicaturum,” id. 11, 4, 3, § 9: “impliciti laqueis,” Ov. A. A. 2, 580: “Cerberos implicitis angue minante comis,” id. H. 9, 94: “implicitamque sinu absstulit,” id. A. A. 1, 561: “impliciti Peleus rapit oscula nati,” held in his arms, Val. Fl. 1, 264. II. Trop. A. In gen., to entangle, implicate, involve, envelop, engage: “di immortales vim suam ... tum terrae cavernis includunt, tum hominum naturis implicant,” Cic. Div. 1, 36, 79: “contrahendis negotiis implicari,” id. Off. 2, 11, 40: “alienis (rebus) nimis implicari molestum esse,” id. Lael. 13, 45: “implicari aliquo certo genere cursuque vivendi,” id. Off. 1, 32, 117: “implicari negotio,” id. Leg. 1, 3: “ipse te impedies, ipse tua defensione implicabere,” Cic. Verr. 2, 2, 18, § 44; cf.: multis implicari erroribus, id. Tusc. 4, 27, 58: “bello,” Verg. A. 11, 109: “eum primo incertis implicantes responsis,” Liv. 27, 43, 3: “nisi forte implacabiles irae vestrae implicaverint animos vestros,” perplexed, confounded, id. 40, 46, 6: “paucitas in partitione servatur, si genera ipsa rerum ponuntur, neque permixte cum partibus implicantur,” are mingled, mixed up, Cic. Inv. 1, 22, 32: ut omnibus copiis conductis te implicet, ne ad me iter tibi expeditum sit, Pompei. ap. Cic. Att. 8, 12, D, 1: “tanti errores implicant temporum, ut nec qui consules nec quid quoque anno actum sit digerere possis,” Liv. 2, 21, 4.—In part. perf.: “dum rei publicae quaedam procuratio multis officiis implicaturum et constrictum tenebat,” Cic. Ac. 1, 3, 11: “Deus nullis occupationibus est implicatus,” id. N. D. 1, 19, 51; cf.: “implicatus molestis negotiis et operosis,” id. ib. 1, 20, 52: “animos dederit suis angoribus et molestiis implicatos,” id. Tusc. 5, 1, 3: “Agrippina morbo corporis implicatura,” Tac. A. 4, 53: “inconstantia tua cum levitate, tum etiam perjurio implicatura,” Cic. Vatin. 1, 3; cf. id. Phil. 2, 32, 81: “intervalla, quibus implicatura atque permixta oratio est,” id. Or. 56, 187: “(voluptas) penitus in omni sensu implicatura insidet,” id. Leg. 1, 17, 47: “quae quatuor inter se colligata atque implicatura,” id. Off. 1, 5, 15: “natura non tam propensus ad misericordiam quam implicatus ad severitatem videbatur,” id. Rosc. Am. 30, 85; “and in the form implicitus, esp. with morbo (in morbum): quies necessaria morbo implicitum exercitum tenuit,” Liv. 3, 2, 1; 7, 23, 2; 23, 40, 1: “ubi se quisque videbat Implicitum morbo,” Lucr. 6, 1232: “graviore morbo implicitus,” Caes. B. C. 3, 18, 1; cf.: “implicitus in morbum,” Nep. Ages. 8, 6; Liv. 23, 34, 11: “implicitus suspicionibus,” Plin. Ep. 3, 9, 19; cf.: “implicitus terrore,” Luc. 3, 432: “litibus implicitus,” Hor. A. P. 424: “implicitam sinu abstulit,” Ov. A. A. 1, 562: “(vinum) jam sanos implicitos facit,” Cael. Aur. Acut. 3, 8, 87.— B. In partic., to attach closely, connect intimately, to unite, join; in pass., to be intimately connected, associated, or related: “(homo) profectus a caritate domesticorum ac suorum serpat longius et se implicet primum civium, deinde mortalium omnium societate,” Cic. Fin. 2, 14, 45: “omnes qui nostris familiaritatibus implicantur,” id. Balb. 27, 60: “(L. Gellius) ita diu vixit, ut multarum aetatum oratoribus implicaretur,” id. Brut. 47, 174: “quibus applicari expediet, non implicari,” Sen. Ep. 105, 5.— In part. perf.: “aliquos habere implicatos consuetudine et benevolentia,” Cic. Fam. 6, 12, 2: “implicatus amicitiis,” id. Att. 1, 19, 8: “familiaritate,” id. Pis. 29, 70: “implicati ultro et citro vel usu diuturno vel etiam officiis,” id. Lael. 22, 85. —Hence, 1. implĭcātus (inpl- ), a, uma., entangled, perplexed, confused, intricate: “nec in Torquati sermone quicquam implicaturum aut tortuosum fuit,” Cic. Fin. 3, 1, 3: “reliquae (partes orationis) sunt magnae, implicaturae, variae, graves, etc.,” id. de Or. 3, 14, 52: vox rauca et implicatura, Sen. Apocol. med. — Comp.: “implicatior ad loquendum,” Amm. 26, 6, 18. — Sup.: “obscurissima et implicatissima quaestio,” Gell. 6, 2, 15: “ista tortuosissima et implicatissima nodositas,” Aug. Conf. 2, 10 init.— 2. im-plĭcĭtē (inpl- ), adv., intricately (rare): “non implicite et abscondite, sed patentius et expeditius,” Cic. Inv. 2, 23, 69. -- “Implicare” adds to these usages the idea of an unforeseen difficulty, i. e. a hint of “impedire,” and even of deceit, i. e. a hint of “fallere.” Why imply what you can exply? Cf. subreptitious. subreption (n.)"act of obtaining a favor by fraudulent suppression of facts," c. 1600, from Latin subreptionem (nominative subreptio), noun of action from past-participle stem of subripere, surripere (see surreptitious). Related: Subreptitious. surreptitious (adj.)mid-15c., from Latin surrepticius "stolen, furtive, clandestine," from surreptus, past participle of surripere "seize secretly, take away, steal, plagiarize," from assimilated form of sub "from under" (hence, "secretly;" see sub-) + rapere "to snatch" (see rapid). Related: Surreptitiously. The source of the philosophers’s usage of ‘implicare’ is a passage from Aristotle’s “De Int.” on the contrariety of proposition A and E (14.23b25–27), in which “implicita” (that sould be ‘com-plicita,’ and ‘the emissor complicates that p”) renders Gk. “sum-pepleg-menê,” “συμ-πεπλεγμένη,” f. “sum-plek-ein,” “συμ-πλέϰein,” “to bind together,” as in ‘com-plicatio,’ complication, and Sidonius’s ‘complicature,’ and Grice’s ‘complicature,’ as in ‘temperature,’ from ‘temperare.’ “One problem with P. F. Strawson’s exegesis of J. L. Austin is the complicature is brings.” This is from the same family or field as “sum-plokê,” “συμ-πλοϰή,” which Plato (Pol. 278b; Soph. 262c) uses for the ‘second articulation,’ the “com-bination” of sounds (phone) that make up a word (logos), and, more philosophically interesting, for ‘praedicatio,’ viz., the interrelation within a ‘logos’ or ‘oratio’ of a noun, or onoma or nomen, as in “the dog,” and a verb, or rhema, or verbum, -- as in ‘shaggisising’ -- that makes up a propositional complex, as “The dog is shaggy,” or “The dog shaggisises.” (H. P. Grice, “Verbing from adjectiving.”). In De Int. 23b25-27, referring to the contrariety of A and O, Aristotle, “let’s grant it”as Grice puts it“is hardly clear.” Aristotle writes: “hê de tou hoti kakon to agathon SUM-PEPLEG-MENÊ estin.” “Kai gar hoti ouk agathon anagkê isôs hupolambanein ton auton.”“ἡ δὲ τοῦ ὅτι ϰαϰὸν τὸ ἀγαθὸν συμπεπλεγμένη ἐστίν.”“ϰαὶ γὰϱ ὅτι οὐϰ ἀγαθὸν ἀνάγϰη ἴσως ὑπολαμϐάνειν τὸν αὐτόν.” Back in Rome, Boethius thought of bring some gravitas to this. “Illa vero quae est,” Boethius goes,” Quoniam malum est quod est bonum, IMPLICATURA est. Et enim: “Quoniam non bonum est.” necesse est idem ipsum opinari (repr. in Aristoteles latinus, 2.1–2.4–6. In a later vulgar Romance, we have J. Tricot). “Quant au jugement, “Le bon est mal” ce n’est en réalité qu’une COMBINAISON de jugements, cars sans doute est-il nécessaire de sous-entendre en même temps “le bon n’est pas le bon.” Cf. Mill on ‘sous-entendu’ of conversation. This was discussed by H. P. Grice in a tutorial with Reading-born English philosopher J. L. Ackrill at St. John’s.  With the help of H. P. Grice, J. L. Ackrill tries to render Boethius into the vernacular (just to please Austin) as follows. “Hê de tou hoti kakon to agathon SUM-PEPLEG-MENÊ estin, kai gar hoti OUK agathon ANAGKê isôs hupo-lambanein ton auton” “Illa vero quae est, ‘Quoniam malum est quod est bonum,’ IMPLICATURA est, et enim, ‘Quoniam non bonum est,’ necesse est idem ipsum OPINARI. In the vernacular: “The belief expressed by the proposition, ‘The good is bad,’ is COM-PLICATED or com-plex, for the same person MUST, perhaps, suppose also the proposition, ‘The good it is not good.’” Aristotle goes on, “For what kind of utterance is “The good is not good,” or as they say in Sparta, “The good is no good”? Surely otiose. “The good” is a Platonic ideal, a universal, separate from this or that good thing. So surely, ‘the good,’ qua idea ain’t good in the sense that playing cricket is good. But playing cricket is NOT “THE” good: philosophising is.” H. P. Grice found Boethius’s commentary “perfectly elucidatory,” but Ackrill was perplexed, and Grice intended Ackrill’s perplexity to go ‘unnoticed’ (“He is trying to communicate his perplexity, but I keep ignoring it.” For Ackrill was surreptitiously trying to ‘correct’ his tutor. Aristotle, Acrkill thought, is wishing to define the ‘contrariety’ between two statements or opinions, or not to use a metalanguage second order, that what is expressed by ‘The good is bad’ is a contrarium of what is expressed by ‘The good is no good.’” Aristotle starts, surely, from a principle. The principle states that a maximally false proposition, set in opposition to a maximally true proposition (such as “The good is good”), deserves the name “contraria”and ‘contrarium’ to what is expressed by it. In a second phase, Aristotle then tries to demonstrate, in a succession of this or that stage, that ‘The good is good’ understood as a propositio universalis dedicativafor all x, if x is (the) good, x is good (To agathon agathon estin,’ “Bonum est bonum”) is a maximally true proposition.” And the reason for this is that “To agathon agathon estin,” or “Bonum bonum est,” applies to the essence (essentia) of “good,” and ‘predicates’ “the same of the same,” tautologically. Now consider Aristotle’s other proposition “The good is the not-bad,” the correlative E form, For all x, if x is good, x is not bad. This does not do. This is not a maximally true proposition. Unlike “The good is good,” The good is not bad” does not apply to the essence of ‘the good,’ and it does not predicate ‘the same of the same’ tautologically. Rather, ‘The good is not bad,’ unless you bring one of those ‘meaning postulates’ that Grice rightly defends against Quine in “In defense of a dogma,”in this case, (x)(Bx iff ~Gx)we stipulate something ‘bad’ if it ain’t good -- is only true notably NOT by virtue of a necessary logical implication, but, to echo my tutor, by implicaturum, viz. by accident, and not by essence (or essential) involved in the ‘sense’ of either ‘good’ or ‘bad,’ or ‘not’ for that matter. Surely Aristotle equivocates slightly when he convinced Grice that an allegedly maximally false proposition (‘the good is bad’) entails or yields the negation of the same attribute, viz., ‘The good is not good,’ or more correctly, ‘It is not the case that the good is good,’ for this is axiomatically contradictory, or tautologically and necessarily false without appeal to any meaning postulate. For any predicate, Fx and ~Fx. The question then is one of knowing whether ‘The good is bad’ deserves to be called the contrary proposition (propositio contraria) of ‘The good is good.’ Aristotle notes that the proposition, ‘The good is bad,’ “To agathon kakon estin,” “Bonum malum est,” is NOT the maximally false proposition opposed to the maximally true, tautological, and empty, proposition, “The good is good,” ‘To agathon agathon estin,’ “Bonum bonum est.” “Indeed, “the good is bad” is sumpeplegmenê, or COMPLICATA. What the emissor means is a complicatum, or as Grice preferred, a ‘complicature. Grice’s complicature (roughly rendered as ‘complification’) condenses all of the moments of the transition from the simple idea of a container (cum-tainer) to the “modern” ideas of implication, Grice’s implicaturum, and prae-suppositio. The ‘propositio complicate,’ is, as Boethius puts it, duplex, or equivocal. The proposition  has a double meaningone explicit, the other implicit. “A ‘propositio complicata’ contains within itself [“continet in se, intra se”]: bonum non est.” Boethius then goes rightly to conclude (or infer), or stipulate, that only a “simplex” proposition, not a propositio complicata, involving some ‘relative clause,’ can be said to be contrary to another -- Commentarii in librum Aristotelis Peri hermêneais, 219. Boethius’s exegesis thesis is faithful to Aristotle. For Aristotle, nothing like “the good is not bad,” but only the tautologically false “the good is not good,” or it is not the case that the good is good, (to agathon agathon esti, bonum bonum est), a propositio simplex, and not a propositio complicate, is the opposite (oppositum, -- as per the ‘figura quadrata’ of ‘oppoista’ -- of “the good is good,” another propositio simplex. Boethius’s analysis of “the good is bad,” a proposition that Boethius calls ‘propositio complicate or ‘propositio implicita’ are manifestly NOT the same as Aristotle’s. For Aristotle, the “doxa hoti kakon to agathon [δόξα ὅτι ϰαϰὸν τὸ ἀγαθόν],” the opinion according to which the good is bad, is only ‘contrary’ to “the good is good” to the extent that it “con-tains” (in Boethius’s jargon) the tautologically false ‘The good is not good.’ For Boethius, ‘The good is bad’ is contrary to ‘the good is good’ is to the extent that ‘the good is bad’ contains, implicitly, the belief which Boethius expresses as ‘Bonum NON est —“ cf. Grice on ‘love that never told can be”Featuring “it is not the case that,” the proposition ‘bonum non est’ is a remarkably complicated expression in Latin, a proposition complicata indeed. ‘Bonum non est’ can mean, in the vernacular, “the good is not.” “Bonum non est” can only be rendered as “there is nothing good.’ “Bonum non est’ may also be rendered, when expanded with a repeated property, the tautologically false ‘The good is not good” (Bonum non bonum est). Strangely, Abelard goes in the same direction as Aristotle, contra Boethius. “The good is bad” (Bonum malum est)  is “implicit” (propositio implicita or complicate) with respect to the tautologically false ‘Bonum bonum non est’ “the good is not good.”Abelardus, having read Gricevide Strawson, “The influence of Grice on Abelardus” -- explains clearly the meaning of “propositio implicita”: “IMPLYING implicitly ‘bonum non bonum est,’ ‘the good is not good’ within itself, and in a certain wa containing it [“IM-PLICANS eam in se, et quodammodo continens.” Glossa super Periermeneias, 99–100. But Abelard expands on Aristotle. “Whoever thinks ‘bonum malum est,’ ‘the good is bad’ also thinks ‘bonum non bonum est,’ ‘the good is not good,’ whereas the reverse does not hold true, i. e. it is not the case that whoever thinks the tautologically false ‘the good is not good’ (“bonum bonum non est”) also think ‘the good is bad’ (‘bonum malum est’). He may refuse to even ‘pronounce’ ‘malum’ (‘malum malum est’) -- “sed non convertitur.” Abelard’s explanation is decisive for the natural history of Grice’s implication. One can certainly express in terms of “implication” what Abelard expresses when he notes the non-reciprocity or non-convertibility of the two propositions. ‘The good is bad,’ or ‘Bonum malum est’ implies or presupposes the tautologically true “the good is not good;’It is not the case that the tautologically false “the good is not good” (‘Bonum bonum non est’) implies ridiculous “the good is bad.” Followers of Aristotle inherit these difficulties.  Boethius and Abelard bequeath to posterity an interpretation of the passage in Aristotle’s “De Interpretatione” according to which “bonum malum est” “the good is bad” can only be considered the ‘propositio opposita’ of the tautologically true ‘bonum bonum est’ (“the good is good”) insofar as, a ‘propositio implicita’ or ‘relativa’ or ‘complicata,’ it contains the ‘propositio contradictoria, viz. ‘the good is not good,’ the tautologically false ‘Bonum non bonum est,’ of the tautologically true ‘Bonum bonum est’ “the good is good.” It is this meaning of “to contain a contradiction” that, in a still rather obscure way, takes up this analysis by specifying a usage of “impliquer.” The first attested use in French of the verb “impliquer” is in 1377 in Oresme, in the syntagm “impliquer contradiction” (RT: DHLF, 1793). These same texts give rise to another analysis. A propositio implicita or pregnant, or complicate, is a proposition that “implies,” that is, that in fact contains two propositions, one principalis, and the other relative, each a ‘propositio explicita,’ and that are equivalent or equipollent to the ‘propositio complicata’ when paraphrased. Consider. “Homo qui est albus est animal quod currit,” “A man who is white is an animal who runs.” This ‘propositio complicate contains the the propositio implicita, “homo est albus” (“a man is white”) and the propositio implicita, “animal currit” (“an animal  runs.”). Only by “exposing” or “resolving” (via ex-positio, or via re-solutio) such an ‘propositio complicata’ can one assign it a truth-value. “Omnis proposition implicita habet duas propositiones explicitas.” “A proposition implicita “P-im” has (at least) a proposition implicita P-im-1 and a different proposition implicita P-im-2.” “Verbi gratia.” “Socrates est id quod est homo.” “Haec propositio IMplicita aequivalet huic copulativae constanti ex duis propositionis explicitis. Socrates est aliquid est illud est homo. Haec proposition est vera, quare et propositio implicita vera. Every “implicit proposition” has two explicit propositions.” “Socrates is something (aliquid) which is a man.” This implicit proposition, “Socrates is something shich is a man,” is equivalent or equipoent to the following conjunctive proposition made up of two now EXplicit propositions, to wit, “Socrates is something,” and “That something is a man.” This latter conjunctive proposition of the two explicit propositions is true. Therefore, the “implicit” proposition is also true” (Tractatus implicitarum, in GiusbertiMateriale per studum, 43). The two “contained” propositions are usually relative propositions. Each is called an ‘implicatio.’ ‘Implicatio’ (rather than ‘implicitio’) becomes shorthand for “PROPOSITIO implicita.” An ‘implicatio’ becomes one type of  ‘propositio exponibilis,’ i. e. a proposition that is to be “exposed” or paraphrased for its form or structure to be understood.  In the treatises of Terminist logic, one chapter is by custom devoted to the phenomenon of “restrictio,” viz. a restriction in the denotation or the suppositio of the noun (v. SUPPOSITION). A relative expression (an implication), along with others, has a restrictive function (viz., “officium implicandi”), just like a sub-propositional expression like an adjective or a participle. Consider.  “A man, Grice, who argues, runs to the second base.”  “Man,” because of the relative expression or clause “who runs,” is restricted to denoting the present time (it is not Grice, who argues NOW but ran YESTERDAY). Moreover there is an equivalence or equipolence between the relative expression “qui currit” and the present participle “currens.” Running Grice argues. Grice who runs argues. Summe metenses, Logica modernorum, 2.1:464. In the case in which a relative expression is restrictive, its function is to “leave something that is constant,” “aliquid pro constanti relinquere,” viz., to produce a pre-assertion that conditions the truth of the main super-ordinate assertion without being its primary object or topic or signification or intentio. “Implicare est pro constanti et involute aliquid significare.” “Ut cum dicitur homo qui est albus currit.”  “Pro constanti” dico, quia praeter hoc quod assertitur ibi cursus de homine, aliquid datur intelligi, scilicet hominem album; “involute” dico quia praeter hoc quod ibi proprie et principaliter significatur hominem currere, aliquid intus intelligitur, scilicet hominem esse album. Per hoc patet quod implicare est intus plicare. Id enim quod intus “plicamus” sive “ponimus,” pro constanti relinquimus. Unde implicare nil aliud est quam subiectum sub aliqua dispositione pro constanti relinquere et de illo sic disposito aliquid affirmare. Ackrill translates to Grice: “To imply” is to signify something by stating it as constant, and in a pretty ‘hidden’ manner“involute.” When I state that the man <who is white> runs, I state, stating it as constant, because, beyond (“praeter”) the main supra-ordinate assertion or proposition that predicates the running of the man, my addressee is given to understand something else (“aliquid intus intelligitur”), viz. that the man is white; This is communicated in a hidden manner (“involute”) because, beyond (“praeter”) what is communicated (“significatur”) primarily, principally (“principaliter”) properly (“proprie”), literally, and explicitly, viz. that the man is running, we are given to understand something else (“aliquid intus intelligutur”) within (“intus”), viz.  that the man is white.  It follows from this that implicare is nothing other than what the form of the expression literally conveys, intus plicare (“folded within”).  What we fold or state within, we leave as a constant.  It follows from this that “to imply” is nothing other than leaving something as a constant in the subject (‘subjectum’), such that the subject (subjectum, ‘homo qui est albus”) is under a certain disposition, and that it is only under this disposition that something about the subjectum is affirmed” -- De implicationibus, Nota, 100) For the record: while Giusberti (“Materiale per studio,” 31) always reads “pro constanti,” the MSS occasionally has the pretty Griciean “precontenti.” This is a case of what the “Logique du Port-Royal” describes as an “in-cidental” assertion. The situation is even more complex, however, insofar as this operation only relates to one usage of a relative proposition, viz. when the proposition is restrictive. A restriction can sometimes be blocked, or cancelled, and the reinscriptions are then different for a  nonrestrictive and a restrictive relative proposition. One such case of a blockage is that of “false implication” (Johnson’s ‘paradox of ‘implicatio’) as in “a [or the] man who is a donkey runs,” (but cf. the centaur, the man who is a horse, runs) where there is a conflict (“repugnantia”) between what the determinate term itself denotes (homo, man) and the determination (ansinus, donkey). The truth-values of a proposition containing a relative clause or propositio thus varies according to whether it is restrictive, and of composite meaning, as in “homo, qui est albus, currit” (A man, who is white, runs), or non-restrictive, and of divided meaning, as in “Homo currit qui est albus” (Rendered in the vernacular in the same way, the Germanic languages not having the syntactic freedom the classical languages do: A man, who is white, is running. When the relative is restrictive, as in “Homo, qui est albus, curris”, the propositio implicits only produces one single assertion, since the relative corresponds to a pre-assertion. Thus, it is the equivalent, at the level of the underlying form, to a proposition conditionalis or hypothetical. Only in the second case can there be a “resolution” of the proposition implicita into the pair of this and that ‘propositio explicita, to wit, “homo currit,”  “homo est albus.”—and an equipolence between the complex proposition implicita and the conjunction of the first proposition explicita and the second proposition explicitta. Homo currit et ille est albus. So it is only in this second case of proposition irrestrictiva  that one can say that “Homo currit, qui est albus implies “Homo currit,” and “Homo est albus” and therefore, “Homo qui est albus currit.” The poor grave Romans are having trouble with Grecisms. The Grecist vocabulary of implication is both disparate and systematic, in a Griceian oxymoronic way. The grave Latin “implicare” covers and translates an extremely varied Grecian field of expressions ready to be botanized, that bears the mark of heterogeneous rather than systematic operations, whether one is dealing Aristotle or the Stoics. The passage through grave Roman allows us to understand retrospectively the connection in Aristotle’s jargon between the “implicatio” of the “propositio implicita,” sum-pepleg-menê, as an interweaving or interlacing, and conclusive or con-sequential implicatio, sumperasma, “συμπέϱασμα,” or “sumpeperasmenon,” “συμπεπεϱασμένον,” “sumpeperasmenê,” “συμπεπεϱασμένη,” f. perainein, “πεϱαίνein, “to limit,” which is the jargon Aristotle uses in the Organon to denote the conclusion of a syllogism (Pr. Anal. 1.15.34a21–24). If one designates as A the premise, tas protaseis, “τὰς πϱοτάσεις,” and as B the con-clusion, “to sumperasma,” συμπέϱασμα.” Cf. the Germanic puns with ‘closure,’ etc.  When translating Aristotle’s definition of the syllogism at Prior Analytics 1.1.24b18–21, Tricot chooses to render as the “con-sequence” Aristotle’s verb “sum-bainei,” “συμ-ϐαίνει,” that which “goes with” the premise and results from it. A syllogism is a discourse, “logos,” “λόγος,” in which, certain things being stated, something other than what is stated necessarily results simply from the fact of what is stated. Simply from the fact of what is stated, I mean that it is because of this that the consequence is obtained, “legô de tôi tauta einai to dia tauta sumbainei,” “λέγω δὲ τῷ ταῦτα εἶναι τὸ διὰ ταῦτα συμϐαίνει.” (Pr. Anal. 1.1, 24b18–21). To make the connection with “implication,” though, we also have to take into account, as is most often the case, the Stoics’ own jargon. What the Stoics call “sumpeplegmenon,” “συμπεπλεγμένον,” is a “conjunctive” proposition; e. g. “It is daytime, and it is light” (it is true both that A and that B). The conjunctive is a type of molecular proposition, along with the “conditional” (sunêmmenon [συνημμένον] -- “If it is daytime, it is light”) and the “subconditional” (para-sunêmmenon [παϱασυνημμένον]; “SINCE it is daytime, it is light”), and the “disjunctive” (diezeugmenon [διεζευγμένον] --  “It is daytime, or it is night.” Diog. Laert. 7.71–72; cf. RT: Long and Sedley, A35, 2:209 and 1:208). One can see that there is no ‘implicatio’ in the conjunctive, whereas there is one in the ‘sunêmmenon’ (“if p, q”), which constitutes the Stoic expression par excellence, as distinct from the Aristotelian categoric syllogism.Indeed, it is around the propositio conditionalis that the question and the vocabulary of ‘implicatio’ re-opens. The Aristotelian sumbainein [συμϐαίνειν], which denotes the accidental nature of a result, however clearly it has been demonstrated (and we should not forget that sumbebêkos [συμϐεϐηϰός] denotes accident; see SUBJECT, I), is replaced by “akolouthein” [ἀϰολουθεῖν] (from the copulative a- and keleuthos [ϰέλευθος], “path” [RT: Chantraine, Dictionnaire étymologique de la langue grecque, s.v. ἀϰόλουθος]), which denotes instead being accompanied by a consequent conformity. This connector, i. e. the “if” (ei, si) indicates that the second proposition, the con-sequens (“it is light”) follows (akolouthei [ἀϰολουθεῖ]) from the first (“it is daytime”) (Diog. Laert, 7.71). Attempts, beginning with Philo or Diodorus Cronus up to Grice and Strawson to determine the criteria of a “valid” conditional (to hugies sunêmmenon [τὸ ὑγιὲς συνημμένον] offer, among other possibilities, the notion of emphasis [ἔμφασις], which Long and Sedley translate as “G. E. Moore’s entailment” and Brunschwig and Pellegrin as “implication” (Sextus Empiricus, The Skeptic Way, in RT: Long and Sedley, The Hellenistic Philosophers, 35B, 2:211 and 1:209), a term that is normally used to refer to a reflected image and to the force, including rhetorical force, of an impression. Elsewhere, this “emphasis” is explained in terms of dunamis [δύναμις], of “virtual” content (“When we have the premise which results in a certain conclusion, we also have this conclusion virtually [dunamei (δυνάμει)] in the premise, even if it is not explicitly indicated [kan kat’ ekphoran mê legetai (ϰἂν ϰατ̕ ἐϰφοϱὰν μὴ λέγεται)], Sextus Empiricus, Against the Grammarians 8.229ff., D. L. Blank, 49 = RT: Long and Sedley, G36 (4), 2:219 and 1:209)—where connecting the different usages of “implication” creates new problems. One has to understand that the type of implicatio represented by the proposition conditionalis implies, in the double usage of “contains implicitly” and “has as its consequence,” the entire Stoic system. It is a matter of to akolouthon en zôêi [τὸ ἀϰόλουθον ἐν ζωῇ], “consequentiality in life,” or ‘rational life, as Grice prefers, as Long and Sedley translate it (Stobeus 2.85.13 = RT: Long and Sedley, 59B, 2:356; Cicero prefers “congruere,” (congruential) De finibus 3.17 = RT: Long and Sedley, 59D, 2:356). It is akolouthia [ἀϰολουθία] that refers to the conduct con-sequent upon itself that is the conduct of the wise man, the chain of causes defining will or fate, and finally the relationship that joins the antecedent to the con-sequent in a true proposition. Goldschmidt, having cited Bréhier (Le système stoïcien), puts the emphasis on antakolouthia [ἀνταϰολουθία], a Stoic neologism that may be translated as “reciprocal” implicatio,” and that refers specifically to the solidarity of virtues (antakolouthia tôn aretôn [ἀνταϰολουθία τῶν ἀϱετῶν], Diog. Laert. 7.125; Goldschmidt, as a group that would be encompassed by dialectical virtue, immobilizing akolouthia in the absolute present of the wise man. “Implicatio” is, in the final analysis, from then on, the most literal name of the Stoic system. Refs.: Aristotle.  Anal. Pr.. ed. H. Tredennick,  in Organon, Harvard; Goldschmidt, Le système stoïcien et l’idée de temps. Paris: Vrin, Sextus Empiricus. Against the Grammarians, ed. D. L. Blank. Oxford: Oxford. END OF INTERLUDE. Now for “Implication”/“Implicaturum.” Implicatura was used by Sidonius in a letter (that Grice found funny) and used by Grice in seminars on conversational helpfulness at Oxford. Grice sets out the basis of a systematic approach to communication, viz, concerning the relation between a proposition p and a proposition q in a conversational context. The need is felt by Sidonius and Grice for ‘implicaturum,’ tdistinct from “implication,” insofar as “implication” is used for a relation between a proposition p and a proposition q, whereas an “implicaturum” is a relation between this or that statement, within a given context, that results from an EMISSOR having utterered an utterance (thereby explicitly conveying that p) and thereby implicitly conveying and implicating that q. Grice thought the distinction was ‘frequently ignored by Austin,’ and Grice thought it solved a few problems, initially in G. A. Paul’s neo-Wttigensteinian objections to Price’s causal theory of perception (“The pillar box seems red to me; which does not surprise me, seeing that it is red”).  An “implication” is a relation bearing on the truth or falsity of this or that proposition (e. g. “The pillar box seems red” and, say, “The pillar box MAY NOT be red”) whereas an “implicaturum” brings an extra meaning to this or that statement it governs (By uttering “The pillar box seems red” thereby explicitly conveying that the pillar box seems red, the emissor implicates in a cancellable way that the pillar box MAY NOT be red.”). Whenever “implicaturum” is determined according to its context (as at Collections, “Strawson has beautiful handwriting; a mark of his character. And he learned quite a bit in spite of the not precisely angelic temperament of his tutor Mabbott”) it enters the field of pragmatics, and therefore has to be distinguished from a presupposition. Implicatio simpliciter is a relation between two propositions, one of which is the consequence of the other (Quine’s example: “My father is a bachelor; therefore, he is male”). An equivalent of “implication” is “entailment,” as used by Moore. Now, Moore was being witty. ‘Entail’ is derived from “tail” (Fr. taille; ME entaill or entailen = en + tail), and prior to its logical use, the meaning of “entailment” is “restriction,” “tail” having the sense of “limitation.” As Moore explains in his lecture: “An entailment is a limitation on the transfer or handing down of a property or an inheritance. *My* use of ‘entailment’ has two features in common with the Legalese that Father used to use; to wit: the handing down of a property; and; the limitation on one of the poles of this transfer. As I stipulate we should use “entailment” (at Cambridge, but also at Oxford), a PROPERTY is transferred from the antecedent to the con-sequent. And also, normally in semantics, some LIMITATION (or restriction, or ‘stricting,’ or ‘relevancing’) on the antecedent is stressed.” The mutation from the legalese to Moore’s usage explicitly occurs by analogy on the basis of these two shared common elements. Now, Whitehead had made a distinction between a material (involving a truth-value) implication and formal (empty) implication. A material implication (“if,” symbolized by the horseshoe “⊃,” because “it resembles an arrow,” Whitehead said“Some arrow!” was Russell’s response) is a Philonian implication as defined semantically in terms of a truth-table by Philo of Megara. “If p, q” is false only when the antecedent is true and the con-sequent false. In terms of a formalization of communication, this has the flaw of bringing with it a counter-intuitive feeling of ‘baffleness’ (cf. “The pillar box seems red, because it is”), since a false proposition implies materially any proposition: If the moon is made of green cheese, 2 + 2 = 4. This “ex falso quodlibet sequitur” has a pedigreed history. For the Stoics and the Megarian philosophers, “ex falso quodlibet sequitur” is what distinguishes Philonian implication and Diodorean implication. It traverses the theory of consequence and is ONE of the paradoxes of material implication that is perfectly summed up in these two rules of Buridan: First, if P is false, Q follows from P; Second, if P is true, P follows from Q (Bochenski, History of Formal Logic). A formal (empty) implication (see Russell, Principles of Mathematics, 36–41) is a universal conditional implication: Ɐx (Ax ⊃ Bx), for any x, if Ax, then Bx. Different means of resolving the paradoxes of implication have been proposed. All failed except Grice’s. An American, C. I. Lewis’s “strict” implication (Lewis and Langford, Symbolic Logic) is defined as an implication that is ‘reinforced’ such that it is impossible for the antecedent to be true and the con-sequent false. Unfortunately, as Grice tells Lewis in a correspondence, “your strict implication, I regret to prove, has the same alleged flaw as the ‘material’ implication that your strict implication was meant to improve on. (an impossible—viz., necessarily false—proposition strictly implies any proposition). The relation of entailment introduced by Moore in 1923 is a relation that seems to avoid this or that paradox (but cf. Grice, “Paradoxes of entailment, followed by paradoxes of implicationall conversationally resolved”) by requiring a derivation of the antecedent from the con-sequent. In this case, “If 2 + 2 = 5, 2 + 3 = 5” is false, since the con-sequent is stipulated not be derivable from the antecedent. Occasionally, one has to call upon the pair “entailment”/“implication” in order to distinguish between an implication in qua material implication and an implication in Moore’s usage (metalinguisticthe associated material implication is a theorem), which is also sometimes called “relevant” if not strictc implication (Anderson and Belnap, Entailment), to ensure that the entire network of expressions is covered. Along with this first series of expressions in which “entailment” and “implication” alternate with one another, there is a second series of expressions that contrasts two kinds of “implicaturum,” or ‘implicatura.’ “Implicaturum” (Fr. implicaturum, G. Implikatur) is formed from “implicatio” and the suffix –ture, which expresses, as Grice knew since his Clifton days, a ‘resultant aspect,’ ‘aspectum resultativus’ (as in “signature”; cf. L. temperatura, from temperare).  “Implicatio” may be thought as derived from “to imply” (if not ‘employ’) and “implicaturum” may be thought as deriving from “imply”’s doulet, “to implicate” (from L. “in-“ + “plicare,” from plex; cf. the IE. plek), which has the same meaning. Some mistakenly see Grice’s “implicaturum” as an extension and modification of the concept of presupposition, which differs from ‘material’ implication in that the negation of the antecedent implies the consequent (the question “Have you stopped beating your wife?” presupposes the existence of a wife in both cases). An implicaturum escapes the paradoxes of material implication from the outset. In fact, Grice, the ever Oxonian, distinguishes “at least” two kinds of implicaturum, conventional and non-conventional, the latter sub-divided into non-conventional non-converastional, and non-conventional conversational. A non-conventional non-conversational implicaturum may occur in a one-off predicament. A Conventional implicaturum and a conventional implicaturum is practically equivalent, Strawson wrongly thought, to presupposition prae-suppositum, since it refers to the presuppositions attached by linguistic convention to a lexical item or expression.  E. g. “Mary EVEN loves Peter” has a relation of conventional implicaturum to “Mary loves other entities than Peter.” This is equivalent to: “ ‘Mary EVEN loves Peter’ presupposes ‘Mary loves other entities than Peter.’ With this kind of implicaturum, we remain within the expression, and thus the semantic, field. A conventional implicaturum, however, is surely different from a material implicatio. It does not concern the truth-values. With conversational implicaturum, we are no longer dependent on this or that emissum, but move into pragmatics (the area that covers the relation between statements and contexts. Grice gives the following example: If, in answer to A’s question about how C is getting on in his new job at a bank, B utters, “Well, he likes his colleagues, and he hasn’t been to in prison yet,” what B implicates by the proposition that it is not the case that C has been to prison yet depends on the context. It compatible with two very different contexts: one in which C, naïve as he is, is expected to be entrapped by unscrupulous colleagues in some shady deal, or, more likely, C is well-known by A and B to tend towards dishonesty (hence the initial question). References: Abelard, Peter. Dialectica. Edited by L. M. De Rijk. Assen, Neth.: Van Gorcum, 1956. 2nd rev. ed., 1970. Glossae super Periermeneias. Edited by Lorenzo Minio-Paluello. In TwelfthCentury Logic: Texts and Studies,  2, Abelaerdiana inedita. Rome: Edizioni di Storia e Letteratura, 1958. Anderson, Allan Ross, and Nuel Belnap. Entailment: The Logic of Relevance and Necessity.  1. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1975. Aristotle. De interpretatione. English translation by J. L. Ackrill: Aristotle’s Categories and De interpretatione. Notes by J. L. Ackrill. Oxford: Clarendon, 1963. French translation by J. Tricot: Organon. Paris: Vrin, 1966. Auroux, Sylvain, and Irène Rosier. “Les sources historiques de la conception des deux types de relatives.” Langages 88 (1987): 9–29. Bochenski, Joseph M. A History of Formal Logic. Translated by Ivo Thomas. New York: Chelsea, 1961. Boethius. Aristoteles latinus. Edited by Lorenzo Minio-Paluello. Paris: Descleé de Brouwer, 1965. Translation by Lorenzo Minio-Paluello: The Latin Aristotle. Toronto: Hakkert, 1972. Commentarii in librum Aristotelis Peri hermêneias. Edited by K. Meiser. Leipzig: Teubner, 1877. 2nd ed., 1880. De Rijk, Lambertus Marie. Logica modernorum: A Contribution to the History of Early Terminist Logic. 2 vols. Assen, Neth.: Van Gorcum, 1962–67.  “Some Notes on the Mediaeval Tract De insolubilibus, with the Edition of a Tract Dating from the End of the Twelfth-Century.” Vivarium 4 (1966): 100–103. Giusberti, Franco. Materials for a Study on Twelfth-Century Scholasticism. Naples, It.: Bibliopolis, 1982. Grice, H. P. “Logic and Conversation.” In Syntax and Semantics 3: Speech Acts, edited by P. Cole and J. Morgan, 41–58. New York: Academic Press, 1975. (Also in The Logic of Grammar, edited by D. Davidson and G. Harman, 64–74. Encino, CA: Dickenson, 1975.) Lewis, Clarence Irving, and Cooper Harold Langford. Symbolic Logic. New York: New York Century, 1932. Meggle, Georg. Grundbegriffe der Kommunikation. 2nd ed. Berlin: De Gruyter, 1997. Meggle, Georg, and Christian Plunze, eds. Saying, Meaning, Implicating. Leipzig: Leipziger Universitätsverlag, 2003. Moore, G. E.. Philosophical Studies. London: Kegan Paul, 1923. Rosier, I. “Relatifs et relatives dans les traits terministes des XIIe et XIIIe siècles: (2) Propositions relatives (implicationes), distinction entre restrictives et non restrictives.” Vivarium 24: 1 (1986): 1–21. Russell, Bertrand. The Principles of Mathematics. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1903. implication, a relation that holds between two statements when the truth of the first ensures the truth of the second. A number of statements together imply Q if their joint truth ensures the truth of Q. An argument is deductively valid exactly when its premises imply its conclusion. Expressions of the following forms are often interchanged one for the other: ‘P implies Q’, ‘Q follows from P’, and ‘P entails Q’. (‘Entailment’ also has a more restricted meaning.) In ordinary discourse, ‘implication’ has wider meanings that are important for understanding reasoning and communication of all kinds. The sentence ‘Last Tuesday, the editor remained sober throughout lunch’ does not imply that the editor is not always sober. But one who asserted the sentence typically would imply this. The theory of conversational implicaturum explains how speakers often imply more than their sentences imply. The term ‘implication’ also applies to conditional statements. A material implication of the form ‘if P, then Q’ (often symbolized ‘P P Q’ or ‘P / Q’) is true so long as either the if-clause P is false or the main clause Q is true; it is false only if P is true and Q is false. A strict implication of the form ‘if P, then Q’ (often symbolized ‘P Q’) is true exactly when the corresponding material implication is necessarily true; i.e., when it is impossible for P to be true when Q is false. The following valid forms of argument are called paradoxes of material implication: Q. Therefore, P / Q. Not-P. Therefore, P / Q. The appearance of paradox here is due to using ‘implication’ as a name both for a relation between statements and for statements of conditional form. A conditional statement can be true even though there is no relation between its components. Consider the following valid inference: Butter floats in milk. Therefore, fish sleep at night / butter floats in milk. Since the simple premise is true, the conditional conclusion is also true despite the fact that the nocturnal activities of fish and the comparative densities of milk and butter are completely unreimmediate inference implication 419 4065h-l.qxd 08/02/1999 7:39 AM Page 419 lated. The statement ‘Fish sleep at night’ does not imply that butter floats in milk. It is better to call a conditional statement that is true just so long as it does not have a true if-clause and a false main clause a material conditional rather than a material implication. Strict conditional is similarly preferable to ‘strict implication’. Respecting this distinction, however, does not dissolve all the puzzlement of the so-called paradoxes of strict implication: Necessarily Q. Therefore, P Q. Impossible that P. Therefore, P Q. Here is an example of the first pattern: Necessarily, all rectangles are rectangles. Therefore, fish sleep at night all rectangles are rectangles. ‘All rectangles are rectangles’ is an example of a vacuous truth, so called because it is devoid of content. ‘All squares are rectangles’ and ‘5 is greater than 3’ are not so obviously vacuous truths, although they are necessary truths. Vacuity is not a sharply defined notion. Here is an example of the second pattern: It is impossible that butter always floats in milk yet sometimes does not float in milk. Therefore, butter always floats in milk yet sometimes does not float in milk fish sleep at night. Does the if-clause of the conclusion imply (or entail) the main clause? On one hand, what butter does in milk is, as before, irrelevant to whether fish sleep at night. On this ground, relevance logic denies there is a relation of implication or entailment. On the other hand, it is impossible for the if-clause to be true when the main clause is false, because it is impossible for the if-clause to be true in any circumstances whatever. Speranza, Luigi. Join the Grice Club! StrawsonF.. “On Referring.” Mind 59 (1950): 320–44.

 

IN-POSITVM -- Grice: “Again, the assimilation of the ‘n’ to ‘m’ before ‘p’ is only vulgar!” -- impositum: “An apt term by Boezio,” Grice. There’s preposition, proposition, supposition, and imposition! a property of terms resulting from a convention to designate something. A term is not a mere noise but a significant sound. A term designating extralinguistic entities, such as ‘tree’, ‘stone’, ‘blue’, and the like, are classified by the tradition since Boethius as terms of “prima impositio,” first imposition. A term designating another term or other communicative items, such as ‘noun’, ‘declension’, and the like, is classified as terms of ‘secunda imposition.’ The distinction between a terms of ‘prima impositio’ and ‘secunda impositio’ belongs to the realm of the communicatum, while the parallel distinction between terms of first and second ‘intentio’ belongs to the realm of the animatum A ‘prima intentio’ (intentio re re), frst intention is, broadly, thoughts about trees, stones, colours, etc. A ‘intentio secunda,’ (intention de sensu), second intention, is a thought about a first intention. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “De sensu implicaturum.”

 

IN-DUCTVM -- inductum: in the narrow sense, inference to a generalization from its instances; (2) in the broad sense, any ampliative inferencei.e., any inference where the claim made by the conclusion goes beyond the claim jointly made by the premises. Induction in the broad sense includes, as cases of particular interest: argument by analogy, predictive inference, inference to causes from signs and symptoms, and confirmation of scientific laws and theories. The narrow sense covers one extreme case that is not ampliative. That is the case of mathematical induction, where the premises of the argument necessarily imply the generalization that is its conclusion. Inductive logic can be conceived most generally as the theory of the evaluation of ampliative inference. In this sense, much of probability theory, theoretical statistics, and the theory of computability are parts of inductive logic. In addition, studies of scientific method can be seen as addressing in a less formal way the question of the logic of inductive inference. The name ‘inductive logic’ has also, however, become associated with a specific approach to these issues deriving from the work of Bayes, Laplace, De Morgan, and Carnap. On this approach, one’s prior probabilities in a state of ignorance are determined or constrained by some principle for the quantification of ignorance and one learns by conditioning on the evidence. A recurrent difficulty with this line of attack is that the way in which ignorance is quantified depends on how the problem is described, with different logically equivalent descriptions leading to different prior probabilities. Carnap laid down as a postulate for the application of his inductive logic that one should always condition on one’s total evidence. This rule of total evidence is usually taken for granted, but what justification is there for it? Good pointed out that the standard Bayesian analysis of the expected value of new information provides such a justification. Pure cost-free information always has non-negative expected value, and if there is positive probability that it will affect a decision, its expected value is positive. Ramsey made the same point in an unpublished manuscript. The proof generalizes to various models of learning uncertain evidence. A deductive account is sometimes presented indubitability induction 425 4065h-l.qxd 08/02/1999 7:39 AM Page 425 where induction proceeds by elimination of possibilities that would make the conclusion false. Thus Mill’s methods of experimental inquiry are sometimes analyzed as proceeding by elimination of alternative possibilities. In a more general setting, the hypothetico-deductive account of science holds that theories are confirmed by their observational consequencesi.e., by elimination of the possibilities that this experiment or that observation falsifies the theory. Induction by elimination is sometimes put forth as an alternative to probabilistic accounts of induction, but at least one version of it is consistent withand indeed a consequence ofprobabilistic accounts. It is an elementary fact of probability that if F, the potential falsifier, is inconsistent with T and both have probability strictly between 0 and 1, then the probability of T conditional on not-F is higher than the unconditional probability of T. In a certain sense, inductive support of a universal generalization by its instances may be a special case of the foregoing, but this point must be treated with some care. In the first place, the universal generalization must have positive prior probability. (It is worth noting that Carnap’s systems of inductive logic do not satisfy this condition, although systems of Hintikka and Niiniluoto do.) In the second place, the notion of instance must be construed so the “instances” of a universal generalization are in fact logical consequences of it. Thus ‘If A is a swan then A is white’ is an instance of ‘All swans are white’ in the appropriate sense, but ‘A is a white swan’ is not. The latter statement is logically stronger than ‘If A is a swan then A is white’ and a complete report on species, weight, color, sex, etc., of individual A would be stronger still. Such statements are not logical consequences of the universal generalization, and the theorem does not hold for them. For example, the report of a man 7 feet 11¾ inches tall might actually reduce the probability of the generalization that all men are under 8 feet tall. Residual queasiness about the foregoing may be dispelled by a point made by Carnap apropos of Hempel’s discussion of paradoxes of confirmation. ‘Confirmation’ is ambiguous. ‘E confirms H’ may mean that the probability of H conditional on E is greater than the unconditional probability of H, in which case deductive consequences of H confirm H under the conditions set forth above. Or ‘E confirms H’ may mean that the probability of H conditional on E is high (e.g., greater than .95), in which case if E confirms H, then E confirms every logical consequence of H. Conflation of the two senses can lead one to the paradoxical conclusion that E confirms E & P and thus P for any statement inductum -- inductivism: “A philosophy of science invented by Popper and P. K. Feyerabend as a foil for their own views. Why, I must just have well invented ‘sensism’ as a foil for my theory of implicaturum!” -- According to inductivism, a unique a priori inductive logic enables one to construct an algorithm that will compute from any input of data the best scientific theory accounting for that data.  inductum: Not deductum, -- nor abductum -- epapoge, Grecian term for ‘induction’. Especially in the logic of Aristotle, epagoge is opposed to argument by syllogism. Aristotle describes it as “a move from particulars to the universal.” E.g., premises that the skilled navigator is the best navigator, the skilled charioteer the best charioteer, and the skilled philosopher the best philosopher may support the conclusion by epagoge that those skilled in something are usually the best at it. Aristotle thought it more persuasive and clearer than the syllogistic method, since it relies on the senses and is available to all humans. The term was later applied to dialectical arguments intended to trap opponents. R.C. epicheirema, a polysyllogism in which each premise represents an enthymematic argument; e.g., ‘A lie creates disbelief, because it is an assertion that does not correspond to truth; flattery is a lie, because it is a conscious distortion of truth; therefore, flattery creates disbelief’. Each premise constitutes an enthymematic syllogism. Thus, the first premise could be expanded into the following full-fledged syllogism: ‘Every assertion that does not correspond to truth creates disbelief; a lie is an assertion that does not correspond to truth; therefore a lie creates disbelief’. We could likewise expand the second premise and offer a complete argument for it. Epicheirema can thus be a powerful tool in oral polemics, especially when one argues regressively, first stating the conclusion with a sketch of support in terms of enthymemes, and then  if challenged to do so  expanding any or all of these enthymemes into standard categorical syllogisms.

 

IN-LATUM -- illatum: A form of the conjugation Grice enjoyed was “inferentia,” cf essentia, sententia, prudentia, etc..see illatum -- Cf. illatio. Consequentia. Implicatio. Grice’s implicaturum and what the emissor implicates as a variation on the logical usage.

 

infima species (Latin, ‘lowest species’), a species that is not a genus of any other species. According to the theory of classification, division, and definition that is part of traditional or Aristotelian logic, every individual is a specimen of some infima species. An infima species is a member of a genus that may in turn be a species of a more inclusive genus, and so on, until one reaches a summum genus, a genus that is not a species of a more inclusive genus. Socrates and Plato are specimens of the infima specis human being (mortal rational animal), which is a species of the genus rational animal, which is a species of the genus animal, and so on, up to the summum genus substance. Whereas two specimens of animale.g., an individual human and an individual horsecan differ partly in their essential characteristics, no two specimens of the infima species human being can differ in essence.

infinite-off predicament, or ∞-off predicament.

 

IN-FINITVM -- infinitum: Cantor, G. Grice thought that “I know there are infinitely many stars” is a stupid thing to say -- one of a number of late nineteenthcentury philosophers including Frege, Dedekind, Peano, Russell, and Hilbert who transformed both mathematics and the study of its philosophical foundations. The philosophical import of Cantor’s work is threefold. First, it was primarily Cantor who turned arbitrary collections into objects of mathematical study, sets. Second, he created a coherent mathematical theory of the infinite, in particular a theory of transfinite numbers. Third, linking these, he was the first to indicate that it might be possible to present mathematics as nothing but the theory of sets, thus making set theory foundational for mathematics. This contributed to the Camus, Albert Cantor, Georg 116   116 view that the foundations of mathematics should itself become an object of mathematical study. Cantor also held to a form of principle of plenitude, the belief that all the infinities given in his theory of transfinite numbers are represented not just in mathematical or “immanent” reality, but also in the “transient” reality of God’s created world. Cantor’s main, direct achievement is his theory of transfinite numbers and infinity. He characterized as did Frege sameness of size in terms of one-to-one correspondence, thus accepting the paradoxical results known to Galileo and others, e.g., that the collection of all natural numbers has the same cardinality or size as that of all even numbers. He added to these surprising results by showing 1874 that there is the same number of algebraic and thus rational numbers as there are natural numbers, but that there are more points on a continuous line than there are natural or rational or algebraic numbers, thus revealing that there are at least two different kinds of infinity present in ordinary mathematics, and consequently demonstrating the need for a mathematical treatment of these infinities. This latter result is often expressed by saying that the continuum is uncountable. Cantor’s theorem of 2 is a generalization of part of this, for it says that the set of all subsets the power-set of a given set must be cardinally greater than that set, thus giving rise to the possibility of indefinitely many different infinities. The collection of all real numbers has the same size as the power-set of natural numbers. Cantor’s theory of transfinite numbers 0 97 was his developed mathematical theory of infinity, with the infinite cardinal numbers the F-, or aleph-, numbers based on the infinite ordinal numbers that he introduced in 0 and 3. The F-numbers are in effect the cardinalities of infinite well-ordered sets. The theory thus generates two famous questions, whether all sets in particular the continuum can be well ordered, and if so which of the F-numbers represents the cardinality of the continuum. The former question was answered positively by Zermelo in 4, though at the expense of postulating one of the most controversial principles in the history of mathematics, the axiom of choice. The latter question is the celebrated continuum problem. Cantor’s famous continuum hypothesis CH is his conjecture that the cardinality of the continuum is represented by F1, the second aleph. CH was shown to be independent of the usual assumptions of set theory by Gödel 8 and Cohen 3. Extensions of Cohen’s methods show that it is consistent to assume that the cardinality of the continuum is given by almost any of the vast array of F-numbers. The continuum problem is now widely considered insoluble. Cantor’s conception of set is often taken to admit the whole universe of sets as a set, thus engendering contradiction, in particular in the form of Cantor’s paradox. For Cantor’s theorem would say that the power-set of the universe must be bigger than it, while, since this powerset is a set of sets, it must be contained in the universal set, and thus can be no bigger. However, it follows from Cantor’s early 3 considerations of what he called the “absolute infinite” that none of the collections discovered later to be at the base of the paradoxes can be proper sets. Moreover, correspondence with Hilbert in 7 and Dedekind in 9 see Cantor, Gesammelte Abhandlungen mathematischen und philosophischen Inhalts, 2 shows clearly that Cantor was well aware that contradictions will arise if such collections are treated as ordinary sets.  “What is not finite.” “I know that there are infinitely many stars”an example of a stupid thing to say by the man in the street. apeiron, Grecian term meaning ‘the boundless’ or ‘the unlimited’, which evolved to signify ‘the infinite’. Anaximander introduced the term to philosophy by saying that the source of all things was apeiron. There is some disagreement about whether he meant by this the spatially antinomy apeiron unbounded, the temporally unbounded, or the qualitatively indeterminate. It seems likely that he intended the term to convey the first meaning, but the other two senses also happen to apply to the spatially unbounded. After Anaximander, Anaximenes declared as his first principle that air is boundless, and Xenophanes made his flat earth extend downward without bounds, and probably outward horizontally without limit as well. Rejecting the tradition of boundless principles, Parmenides argued that “what-is” must be held within determinate boundaries. But his follower Melissus again argued that what-is must be boundless  in both time and space  for it can have no beginning or end. Another follower of Parmenides, Zeno of Elea, argued that if there are many substances, antinomies arise, including the consequences that substances are both limited and unlimited apeira in number, and that they are so small as not to have size and so large as to be unlimited in size. Rejecting monism, Anaxagoras argued for an indefinite number of elements that are each unlimited in size, and the Pythagorean Philolaus made limiters perainonta and unlimiteds apeira the principles from which all things are composed. The atomists Leucippus and Democritus conceived of a boundless universe, partly full of an infinite number of atoms and partly void; and in the universe are countless apeiroi worlds. Finally Aristotle arrived at an abstract understanding of the apeiron as “the infinite,” claiming to settle paradoxes about the boundless by allowing for real quantities to be infinitely divisible potentially, but not actually Physics III.48. The development of the notion of the apeiron shows how Grecian philosophers evolved ever more abstract philosophical ideas from relatively concrete conceptions.  Infinity -- Grice thougth that “There are infinitely many stars” was a stupid thing to say -- diagonal procedure, a method, originated by Cantor, for showing that there are infinite sets that cannot be put in one-to-one correspondence with the set of natural numbers i.e., enumerated. For example, the method can be used to show that the set of real numbers x in the interval 0 ‹ x m 1 is not enumerable. Suppose x0, x1, x2, . . . were such an enumeration x0 is the real correlated with 0; x1, the real correlated with 1; and so on. Then consider the list formed by replacing each real in the enumeration with the unique non-terminating decimal fraction representing it: The first decimal fraction represents x0; the second, x1; and so on. By diagonalization we select the decimal fraction shown by the arrows: and change each digit xnn, taking care to avoid a terminating decimal. This fraction is not on our list. For it differs from the first in the tenths place, from the second in the hundredths place, and from the third in the thousandths place, and so on. Thus the real it represents is not in the supposed enumeration. This contradicts the original assumption. The idea can be put more elegantly. Let f be any function such that, for each natural number n, fn is a set of natural numbers. Then there is a set S of natural numbers such that n 1 S S n 2 fn. It is obvious that, for each n, fn & S.  Infinity -- eternal return, the doctrine that the same events, occurring in the same sequence and involving the same things, have occurred infinitely many times in the past and will occur infinitely many times in the future. Attributed most notably to the Stoics and Nietzsche, the doctrine is antithetical to philosophical and religious viewpoints that claim that the world order is unique, contingent in part, and directed toward some goal. The Stoics interpret eternal return as the consequence of perpetual divine activity imposing exceptionless causal principles on the world in a supremely rational, providential way. The world, being the best possible, can only be repeated endlessly. The Stoics do not explain why the best world cannot be everlasting, making repetition unnecessary. It is not clear whether Nietzsche asserted eternal return as a cosmological doctrine or only as a thought experiment designed to confront one with the authenticity of one’s life: would one affirm that life even if one were consigned to live it over again without end? On either interpretation, Nietzsche’s version, like the Stoic version, stresses the inexorability and necessary interconnectedness of all things and events, although unlike the Stoic version, it rejects divine providence.  infinitary logic, the logic of expressions of infinite length. Quine has advanced the claim that firstorder logic (FOL) is the language of science, a position accepted by many of his followers. Howinferential justification infinitary logic 428 4065h-l.qxd 08/02/1999 7:39 AM Page 428 ever, many important notions of mathematics and science are not expressible in FOL. The notion of finiteness, e.g., is central in mathematics but cannot be expressed within FOL. There is no way to express such a simple, precise claim as ‘There are only finitely many stars’ in FOL. This and related expressive limitations in FOL seriously hamper its applicability to the study of mathematics and have led to the study of stronger logics. There have been various approaches to getting around the limitations by the study of so-called strong logics, including second-order logic (where one quantifies over sets or properties, not just individuals), generalized quantifiers (where one adds quantifiers in addition to the usual ‘for all’ and ‘there exists’), and branching quantifiers (where notions of independence of variables is introduced). One of the most fruitful methods has been the introduction of idealized “infinitely long” statements. For example, the above statement about the stars would be formalized as an infinite disjunction: there is at most one star, or there are at most two stars, or there are at most three stars, etc. Each of these disjuncts is expressible in FOL. The expressive limitations in FOL are closely linked with Gödel’s famous completeness and incompleteness theorems. These results show, among other things, that any attempt to systematize the laws of logic is going to be inadequate, one way or another. Either it will be confined to a language with expressive limitations, so that these notions cannot even be expressed, or else, if they can be expressed, then an attempt at giving an effective listing of axioms and rules of inference for the language will fall short. In infinitary logic, the rules of inference can have infinitely many premises, and so are not effectively presentable. Early work in infinitary logic used cardinality as a guide: whether or not a disjunction, conjunction, or quantifier string was permitted had to do only with the cardinality of the set in question. It turned out that the most fruitful of these logics was the language with countable conjunctions and finite strings of first-order quantifiers. This language had further refinements to socalled admissible languages, where more refined set-theoretic considerations play a role in determining what counts as a formula. Infinitary languages are also connected with strong axioms of infinity, statements that do not follow from the usual axioms of set theory but for which one has other evidence that they might well be true, or at least consistent. In particular, compact cardinals are infinite cardinal numbers where the analogue of the compactness theorem of FOL generalizes to the associated infinitary language. These cardinals have proven to be very important in modern set theory. During the 1990s, some infinitary logics played a surprising role in computer science. By allowing arbitrarily long conjunctions and disjunctions, but only finitely many variables (free or bound) in any formula, languages with attractive closure properties were found that allowed the kinds of inductive procedures of computer science, procedures not expressible in FOL. -- infinite regress argument, a distinctively philosophical kind of argument purporting to show that a thesis is defective because it generates an infinite series when either (form A) no such series exists or (form B) were it to exist, the thesis would lack the role (e.g., of justification) that it is supposed to play. The mere generation of an infinite series is not objectionable. It is misleading therefore to use ‘infinite regress’ (or ‘regress’) and ‘infinite series’ equivalently. For instance, both of the following claims generate an infinite series: (1) every natural number has a successor that itself is a natural number, and (2) every event has a causal predecessor that itself is an event. Yet (1) is true (arguably, necessarily true), and (2) may be true for all that logic can say about the matter. Likewise, there is nothing contrary to logic about any of the infinite series generated by the suppositions that (3) every free act is the consequence of a free act of choice; (4) every intelligent operation is the result of an intelligent mental operation; (5) whenever individuals x and y share a property F there exists a third individual z which paradigmatically has F and to which x and y are somehow related (as copies, by participation, or whatnot); or (6) every generalization from experience is inductively inferable from experience by appeal to some other generalization from experience. What Locke (in the Essay concerning Human Understanding) objects to about the theory of free will embodied in (3) and Ryle (in The Concept of Mind) objects to about the “intellectualist leginfinite, actual infinite regress argument 429 4065h-l.qxd 08/02/1999 7:39 AM Page 429 end” embodied in (4) can therefore be only that it is just plain false as a matter of fact that we perform an infinite number of acts of choice or operations of the requisite kinds. In effect their infinite regress arguments are of form A: they argue that the theories concerned must be rejected because they falsely imply that such infinite series exist. Arguably the infinite regress arguments employed by Plato (in the Parmenides) regarding his own theory of Forms and by Popper (in the Logic of Scientific Discovery) regarding the principle of induction proposed by Mill, are best construed as having form B, their objections being less to (5) or (6) than to their epistemic versions: (5*) that we can understand how x and y can share a property F only if we understand that there exists a third individual (the “Form” z) which paradigmatically has F and to which x and y are related; and (6*) that since the principle of induction must itself be a generalization from experience, we are justified in accepting it only if it can be inferred from experience by appeal to a higherorder, and justified, inductive principle. They are arguing that because the series generated by (5) and (6) are infinite, the epistemic enlightenment promised by (5*) and (6*) will forever elude us. When successful, infinite regress arguments can show us that certain sorts of explanation, understanding, or justification are will-o’-thewisps. As Passmore has observed (in Philosophical Reasoning) there is an important sense of ‘explain’ in which it is impossible to explain predication. We cannot explain x’s and y’s possession of the common property F by saying that they are called by the same name (nominalism) or fall under the same concept (conceptualism) any more than we can by saying that they are related to the same form (Platonic realism), since each of these is itself a property that x and y are supposed to have in common. Likewise, it makes no sense to try to explain why anything at all exists by invoking the existence of something else (such as the theist’s God). The general truths that things exist, and that things may have properties in common, are “brute facts” about the way the world is. Some infinite regress objections fail because they are directed at “straw men.” Bradley’s regress argument against the pluralist’s “arrangement of given facts into relations and qualities,” from which he concludes that monism is true, is a case in point. He correctly argues that if one posits the existence of two or more things, then there must be relations of some sort between them, and then (given his covert assumption that these relations are things) concludes that there must be further relations between these relations ad infinitum. Bradley’s regress misfires because a pluralist would reject his assumption. Again, some regress arguments fail because they presume that any infinite series is vicious. Aquinas’s regress objection to an infinite series of movers, from which he concludes that there must be a prime mover, involves this sort of confusion. -- infinity, in set theory, the property of a set whereby it has a proper subset whose members can be placed in one-to-one correspondence with all the members of the set, as the even integers can be so arranged in respect to the natural numbers by the function f(x) = x/2, namely: Devised by Richard Dedekind in defiance of the age-old intuition that no part of a thing can be as large as the thing, this set-theoretical definition of ‘infinity’, having been much acclaimed by philosophers like Russell as a model of conceptual analysis that philosophers were urged to emulate, can elucidate the putative infinity of space, time, and even God, his power, wisdom, etc. If a set’s being denumerablei.e., capable of having its members placed in one-to-one correspondence with the natural numberscan well appear to define much more simply what the infinity of an infinite set is, Cantor exhibited the real numbers (as expressed by unending decimal expansions) as a counterexample, showing them to be indenumerable by means of his famous diagonal argument. Suppose all the real numbers between 0 and 1 are placed in one-to-one correspondence with the natural numbers, thus: Going down the principal diagonal, we can construct a new real number, e.g., .954 . . . , not found in the infinite “square array.” The most important result in set theory, Cantor’s theorem, is denied its full force by the maverick followers infinity infinity 430 4065h-l.qxd 08/02/1999 7:39 AM Page 430 of Skolem, who appeal to the fact that, though the real numbers constructible in any standard axiomatic system will be indenumerable relative to the resources of the system, they can be seen to be denumerable when viewed from outside it. Refusing to accept the absolute indenumerability of any set, the Skolemites, in relativizing the notion to some system, provide one further instance of the allure of relativism. More radical still are the nominalists who, rejecting all abstract entities and sets in particular, might be supposed to have no use for Cantor’s theorem. Not so. Assume with Democritus that there are infinitely many of his atoms, made of adamant. Corresponding to each infinite subset of these atoms will be their mereological sum or “fusion,” namely a certain quantity of adamant. Concrete entities acceptable to the nominalist, these quantities can be readily shown to be indenumerable. Whether Cantor’s still higher infinities beyond F1 admit of any such nominalistic realization remains a largely unexplored area. Aleph-zero or F0 being taken to be the transfinite number of the natural numbers, there are then F1 real numbers (assuming the continuum hypothesis), while the power set of the reals has F2 members, and the power set of that F3 members, etc. In general, K2 will be said to have a greater number (finite or transfinite) of members than K1 provided the members of K1 can be put in one-to-one correspondence with some proper subset of K2 but not vice versa. Skepticism regarding the higher infinities can trickle down even to F0, and if both Aristotle and Kant, the former in his critique of Zeno’s paradoxes, the latter in his treatment of cosmological antinomies, reject any actual, i.e. completed, infinite, in our time Dummett’s return to verificationism, as associated with the mathematical intuitionism of Brouwer, poses the keenest challenge. Recognition-transcendent sentences like ‘The total number of stars is infinite’ are charged with violating the intersubjective conditions required for a speaker of a language to manifest a grasp of their meaning.  Strawson, or Grice’s favourite informalist: THE INFORMALISTSA Group under which Grice situated his post-generational Strawson and his pre-generational Ryle. informal fallacy, an error of reasoning or tactic of argument that can be used to persuade someone with whom you are reasoning that your argument is correct when really it is not. The standard treatment of the informal fallacies in logic textbooks draws heavily on Aristotle’s list, but there are many variants, and new fallacies have often been added, some of which have gained strong footholds in the textbooks. The word ‘informal’ indicates that these fallacies are not simply localized faults or failures in the given propositions (premises and conclusion) of an argument to conform to a standard of semantic correctness (like that of deductive logic), but are misuses of the argument in relation to a context of reasoning or type of dialogue that an arguer is supposed to be engaged in. Informal logic is the subfield of logical inquiry that deals with these fallacies. Typically, informal fallacies have a pragmatic (practical) aspect relating to how an argument is being used, and also a dialectical aspect, pertaining to a context of dialoguenormally an exchange between two participants in a discussion. Both aspects are major concerns of informal logic. Logic textbooks classify informal fallacies in various ways, but no clear and widely accepted system of classification has yet become established. Some textbooks are very inventive and prolific, citing many different fallacies, including novel and exotic ones. Others are more conservative, sticking with the twenty or so mainly featured in or derived from Aristotle’s original treatment, with a few widely accepted additions. The paragraphs below cover most of these “major” or widely featured fallacies, the ones most likely to be encountered by name in the language of everyday educated conversation. The genetic fallacy is the error of drawing an inappropriate conclusion about the goodness or badness of some property of a thing from the goodness or badness of some property of the origin of that thing. For example, ‘This medication was derived from a plant that is poisonous; therefore, even though my physician advises me to take it, I conclude that it would be very bad for me if I took it.’ The error is inappropriately arguing from the origin of the medication to the conclusion that it must be poisonous in any form or situation. The genetic fallacy is often construed very broadly making it coextensive with the personal attack type of argument (see the description of argumentum ad hominem below) that condemns a prior argument by condemning its source or proponent. Argumentum ad populum (argument to the people) is a kind of argument that uses appeal to popular sentiments to support a conclusion. Sometimes called “appeal to the gallery” or “appeal to popular pieties” or even “mob appeal,” this kind of argument has traditionally been portrayed as fallacious. However, there infinity, axiom of informal fallacy 431 4065h-l.qxd 08/02/1999 7:39 AM Page 431 need be nothing wrong with appealing to popular sentiments in argument, so long as their evidential value is not exaggerated. Even so, such a tactic can be fallacious when the attempt to arouse mass enthusiasms is used as a substitute to cover for a failure to bring forward the kind of evidence that is properly required to support one’s conclusion. Argumentum ad misericordiam (argument to pity) is a kind of argument that uses an appeal to pity, sympathy, or compassion to support its conclusion. Such arguments can have a legitimate place in some discussionse.g., in appeals for charitable donations. But they can also put emotional pressure on a respondent in argument to try to cover up a weak case. For example, a student who does not have a legitimate reason for a late assignment might argue that if he doesn’t get a high grade, his disappointed mother might have a heart attack. The fallacy of composition is the error of arguing from a property of parts of a whole to a property of the wholee.g., ‘The important parts of this machine are light; therefore this machine is light.’ But a property of the parts cannot always be transferred to the whole. In some cases, examples of the fallacy of composition are arguments from all the parts to a whole, e.g. ‘Everybody in the country pays her debts. Therefore the country pays its debts.’ The fallacy of division is the converse of that of composition: the error of arguing from a property of the whole to a property of its partse.g., ‘This machine is heavy; therefore all the parts of this machine are heavy.’ The problem is that the property possessed by the whole need not transfer to the parts. The fallacy of false cause, sometimes called post hoc, ergo propter hoc (after this, therefore because of this), is the error of arguing that because two events are correlated with one another, especially when they vary together, the one is the cause of the other. For example, there might be a genuine correlation between the stork population in certain areas of Europe and the human birth rate. But it would be an error to conclude, on that basis alone, that the presence of storks causes babies to be born. In general, however, correlation is good, if sometimes weak, evidence for causation. The problem comes in when the evidential strength of the correlation is exaggerated as causal evidence. The apparent connection could just be coincidence, or due to other factors that have not been taken into account, e.g., some third factor that causes both the events that are correlated with each other. The fallacy of secundum quid (neglecting qualifications) occurs where someone is arguing from a general rule to a particular case, or vice versa. One version of it is arguing from a general rule while overlooking or suppressing legitimate exceptions. This kind of error has also often been called the fallacy of accident. An example would be the argument ‘Everyone has the right to freedom of speech; therefore it is my right to shout “Fire” in this crowded theater if I want to.’ The other version of secundum quid, sometimes also called the fallacy of converse accident, or the fallacy of hasty generalization, is the error of trying to argue from a particular case to a general rule that does not properly fit that case. An example would be the argument ‘Tweetie [an ostrich] is a bird that does not fly; therefore birds do not fly’. The fault is the failure to recognize or acknowledge that Tweetie is not a typical bird with respect to flying. Argumentum consensus gentium (argument from the consensus of the nations) is a kind that appeals to the common consent of mankind to support a conclusion. Numerous philosophers and theologians in the past have appealed to this kind of argument to support conclusions like the existence of God and the binding character of moral principles. For example, ‘Belief in God is practically universal among human beings past and present; therefore there is a practical weight of presumption in favor of the truth of the proposition that God exists’. A version of the consensus gentium argument represented by this example has sometimes been put forward in logic textbooks as an instance of the argumentum ad populum (described above) called the argument from popularity: ‘Everybody believes (accepts) P as true; therefore P is true’. If interpreted as applicable in all cases, the argument from popularity is not generally sound, and may be regarded as a fallacy. However, if regarded as a presumptive inference that only applies in some cases, and as subject to withdrawal where evidence to the contrary exists, it can sometimes be regarded as a weak but plausible argument, useful to serve as a provisional guide to prudent action or reasoned commitment. Argumentum ad hominem (literally, argument against the man) is a kind of argument that uses a personal attack against an arguer to refute her argument. In the abusive or personal variant, the character of the arguer (especially character for veracity) is attacked; e.g., ‘You can’t believe what Smith sayshe is a liar’. In evaluating testimony (e.g., in legal cross-examination), attacking an arguer’s character can be legitimate in some cases. Also in political debate, character can be a legitimate issue. However, ad hominem arguinformal fallacy informal fallacy 432 4065h-l.qxd 08/02/1999 7:39 AM Page 432 ments are commonly used fallaciously in attacking an opponent unfairlye.g., where the attack is not merited, or where it is used to distract an audience from more relevant lines of argument. In the circumstantial variant, an arguer’s personal circumstances are claimed to be in conflict with his argument, implying that the arguer is either confused or insincere; e.g., ‘You don’t practice what you preach’. For example, a politician who has once advocated not raising taxes may be accused of “flip-flopping” if he himself subsequently favors legislation to raise taxes. This type of argument is not inherently fallacious, but it can go badly wrong, or be used in a fallacious way, for example if circumstances changed, or if the alleged conflict was less serious than the attacker claimed. Another variant is the “poisoning the well” type of ad hominem argument, where an arguer is said to have shown no regard for the truth, the implication being that nothing he says henceforth can ever be trusted as reliable. Yet another variant of the ad hominem argument often cited in logic textbooks is the tu quoque (you-too reply), where the arguer attacked by an ad hominem argument turns around and says, “What about you? Haven’t you ever lied before? You’re just as bad.” Still another variant is the bias type of ad hominem argument, where one party in an argument charges the other with not being honest or impartial or with having hidden motivations or personal interests at stake. Argumentum ad baculum (argument to the club) is a kind of argument that appeals to a threat or to fear in order to support a conclusion, or to intimidate a respondent into accepting it. Ad baculum arguments often take an indirect form; e.g., ‘If you don’t do this, harmful consequences to you might follow’. In such cases the utterance can often be taken as a threat. Ad baculum arguments are not inherently fallacious, because appeals to threatening or fearsome sanctionse.g., harsh penalties for drunken drivingare not necessarily failures of critical argumentation. But because ad baculum arguments are powerful in eliciting emotions, they are often used persuasively as sophistical tactics in argumentation to avoid fulfilling the proper requirements of a burden of proof. Argument from authority is a kind of argument that uses expert opinion (de facto authority) or the pronouncement of someone invested with an institutional office or title (de jure authority) to support a conclusion. As a practical but fallible method of steering discussion toward a presumptive conclusion, the argument from authority can be a reasonable way of shifting a burden of proof. However, if pressed too hard in a discussion or portrayed as a better justification for a conclusion than the evidence warrants, it can become a fallacious argumentum ad verecundiam (see below). It should be noted, however, that arguments based on expert opinions are widely accepted both in artificial intelligence and everyday argumentation as legitimate and sound under the right conditions. Although arguments from authority have been strongly condemned during some historical periods as inherently fallacious, the current climate of opinion is to think of them as acceptable in some cases, even if they are fallible arguments that can easily go wrong or be misused by sophistical persuaders. Argumentum ad judicium represents a kind of knowledge-based argumentation that is empirical, as opposed to being based on an arguer’s personal opinion or viewpoint. In modern terminology, it apparently refers to an argument based on objective evidence, as opposed to somebody’s subjective opinion. The term appears to have been invented by Locke to contrast three commonly used kinds of arguments and a fourth special type of argument. The first three types of argument are based on premises that the respondent of the argument is taken to have already accepted. Thus these can all be called “personal” in nature. The fourth kind of argumentargumentum ad judiciumdoes not have to be based on what some person accepts, and so could perhaps be called “impersonal.” Locke writes that the first three kinds of arguments can dispose a person for the reception of truth, but cannot help that person to the truth. Only the argumentum ad judicium can do that. The first three types of arguments come from “my shamefacedness, ignorance or error,” whereas the argumentum ad judicium “comes from proofs and arguments and light arising from the nature of things themselves.” The first three types of arguments have only a preparatory function in finding the truth of a matter, whereas the argumentum ad judicium is more directly instrumental in helping us to find the truth. Argumentum ad verecundiam (argument to reverence or respect) is the fallacious use of expert opinion in argumentation to try to persuade someone to accept a conclusion. In the Essay concerning Human Understanding (1690) Locke describes such arguments as tactics of trying to prevail on the assent of someone by portraying him as irreverent or immodest if he does not readily yield to the authority of some learned informal opinion cited. Locke does not claim, however, that all appeals to expert authority in argument are fallacious. They can be reasonable if used judiciously. Argumentum ad ignorantiam (argument to ignorance) takes the following form: a proposition a is not known or proved to be true (false); therefore A is false (true). It is a negative type of knowledge-based or presumptive reasoning, generally not conclusive, but it is nevertheless often non-fallacious in balance-of-consideration cases where the evidence is inconclusive to resolve a disputed question. In such cases it is a kind of presumption-based argumentation used to advocate adopting a conclusion provisionally, in the absence of hard knowledge that would determine whether the conclusion is true or false. An example would be: Smith has not been heard from for over seven years, and there is no evidence that he is alive; therefore it may be presumed (for the purpose of settling Smith’s estate) that he is dead. Arguments from ignorance ought not to be pressed too hard or used with too strong a degree of confidence. An example comes from the U.S. Senate hearings in 1950, in which Senator Joseph McCarthy used case histories to argue that certain persons in the State Department should be considered Communists. Of one case he said, “I do not have much information on this except the general statement of the agency that there is nothing in the files to disprove his Communist connections.” The strength of any argument from ignorance depends on the thoroughness of the search made. The argument from ignorance can be used to shift a burden of proof merely on the basis of rumor, innuendo, or false accusations, instead of real evidence. Ignoratio elenchi (ignorance of refutation) is the traditional name, following Aristotle, for the fault of failing to keep to the point in an argument. The fallacy is also called irrelevant conclusion or missing the point. Such a failure of relevance is essentially a failure to keep closely enough to the issue under discussion. Suppose that during a criminal trial, the prosecutor displays the victim’s bloody shirt and argues at length that murder is a horrible crime. The digression may be ruled irrelevant to the question at issue of whether the defendant is guilty of murder. Alleged failures of this type in argumentation are sometimes quite difficult to judge fairly, and a ruling should depend on the type of discussion the participants are supposed to be engaged in. In some cases, conventions or institutional rules of proceduree.g. in a criminal trialare aids to determining whether a line of argumentation should be judged relevant or not. Petitio principii (asking to be granted the “principle” or issue of the discussion to be proved), also called begging the question, is the fallacy of improperly arguing in a circle. Circular reasoning should not be presumed to be inherently fallacious, but can be fallacious where the circular argument has been used to disguise or cover up a failure to fulfill a burden of proof. The problem arises where the conclusion that was supposed to be proved is presumed within the premises to be granted by the respondent of the argument. Suppose I ask you to prove that this bicycle (the ownership of which is subject to dispute) belongs to Hector, and you reply, “All the bicycles around here belong to Hector.” The problem is that without independent evidence that shows otherwise, the premise that all the bicycles belong to Hector takes for granted that this bicycle belongs to Hector, instead of proving it by properly fulfilling the burden of proof. The fallacy of many questions (also called the fallacy of complex question) is the tactic of packing unwarranted presuppositions into a question so that any direct answer given by the respondent will trap her into conceding these presuppositions. The classical case is the question, “Have you stopped beating your spouse?” No matter how the respondent answers, yes or no, she concedes the presuppositions that (a) she has a spouse, and (b) she has beaten that spouse at some time. Where one or both of these presumptions are unwarranted in the given case, the use of this question is an instance of the fallacy of many questions. The fallacy of equivocation occurs where an ambiguous word has been used more than once in an argument in such a way that it is plausible to interpret it in one way in one instance of its use and in another way in another instance. Such an argument may seem persuasive if the shift in the context of use of the word makes these differing interpretations plausible. Equivocation, however, is generally seriously deceptive only in longer sequences of argument where the meaning of a word or phrase shifts subtly but significantly. A simplistic example will illustrate the gist of the fallacy: ‘The news media should present all the facts on anything that is in the public interest; the public interest in lives of movie stars is intense; therefore the news media should present all the facts on the private lives of movie stars’. This argument goes from plausible premises to an implausible conclusion by trading on the ambiguity of ‘public interest’. In one sense informal fallacy informal fallacy 434 4065h-l.qxd 08/02/1999 7:40 AM Page 434 it means ‘public benefit’ while in another sense it refers to something more akin to curiosity. Amphiboly (double arrangement) is a type of traditional fallacy (derived from Aristotle’s list of fallacies) that refers to the use of syntactically ambiguous sentences like ‘Save soap and waste paper’. Although the logic textbooks often cite examples of such sentences as fallacies, they have never made clear how they could be used to deceive in a serious discussion. Indeed, the example cited is not even an argument, but simply an ambiguous sentence. In cases of some advertisements like ‘Two pizzas for one special price’, however, one can see how the amphiboly seriously misleads readers into thinking they are being offered two pizzas for the regular price of one. Accent is the use of shifting stress or emphasis in speech as a means of deception. For example, if a speaker puts stress on the word ‘created’ in ‘All men were created equal’ it suggests (by implicaturum) the opposite proposition to ‘All men are equal’, namely ‘Not all men are (now) equal’. The oral stress allows the speaker to covertly suggest an inference the hearer is likely to draw, and to escape commitment to the conclusion suggested by later denying he said it. The slippery slope argument, in one form, counsels against some contemplated action (or inaction) on the ground that, once taken, it will be a first step in a sequence of events that will be difficult to resist and will (or may or must) lead to some dangerous (or undesirable or disastrous) outcome in the end. It is often argued, e.g., that once you allow euthanasia in any form, such as the withdrawal of heroic treatments of dying patients in hospitals, then (through erosion of respect for human life), you will eventually wind up with a totalitarian state where old, feeble, or politically troublesome individuals are routinely eliminated. Some slippery slope arguments can be reasonable, but they should not be put forward in an exaggerated way, supported with insufficient evidence, or used as a scare tactic.

 

informatum“What has ‘forma’ to do with ‘inform’?”Grice. While etymologically it means ‘to mould,’ Lewis and Short render ‘informare’ as “to inform, instruct, educate (syn.: “instruere, instituere): artes quibus aetas puerilis ad humanitatem informari solet,” Cic. Arch. 3, 4: “animus a natura bene informatus,” formed, id. Off. 1, 4, 13. I. e. “the soul is well informed by nature.” Informativusinformational. Grice distinguishes between the indicative and the informational. “Surely it is stupid to inform myself, but not Strawson, that it is raining. Grammarians don’t care, but I do!” information theory, also called communication theory, a primarily mathematical theory of communication. Prime movers in its development include Claude Shannon, H. Nyquist, R. V. L. Hartley, Norbert Wiener, Boltzmann, and Szilard. Original interests in the theory were largely theoretical or applied to telegraphy and telephony, and early development clustered around engineering problems in such domains. Philosophers (Bar-Hillel, Dretske, and Sayre, among others) are mainly interested in information theory as a source for developing a semantic theory of information and meaning. The mathematical theory has been less concerned with the details of how a message acquires meaning and more concerned with what Shannon called the “fundamental problem of communication”reproducing at one point either exactly or approximately a message (that already has a meaning) selected at another point. Therefore, the two interests in informationthe mathematical and the philosophicalhave remained largely orthogonal. Information is an objective (mind-independent) entity. It can be generated or carried by messages (words, sentences) or other products of cognizers (interpreters). Indeed, communication theory focuses primarily on conditions involved in the generation and transmission of coded (linguistic) messages. However, almost any event can (and usually does) generate information capable of being encoded or transmitted. For example, Colleen’s acquiring red spots can contain information about Colleen’s having the measles and graying hair can carry information about her grandfather’s aging. This information can be encoded into messages about measles or aging (respectively) and transmitted, but the information would exist independently of its encoding or transmission. That is, this information would be generated (under the right conditions) by occurrence of the measles-induced spots and the age-induced graying themselvesregardless of anyone’s actually noticing. This objective feature of information explains its potential for epistemic and semantic development by philosophers and cognitive scientists. For example, in its epistemic dimension, a single (event, message, or Colleen’s spots) that contains informal logic information theory 435 4065h-l.qxd 08/02/1999 7:40 AM Page 435 (carries) the information that Colleen has the measles is something from which one (mom, doctor) can come to know that Colleen has the measles. Generally, an event (signal) that contains the information that p is something from which one can come to know that p is the caseprovided that one’s knowledge is indeed based on the information that p. Since information is objective, it can generate what we want from knowledgea fix on the way the world objectively is configured. In its semantic dimension, information can have intentionality or aboutness. What is happening at one place (thermometer reading rising in Colleen’s mouth) can carry information about what is happening at another place (Colleen’s body temperature rising). The fact that messages (or mental states, for that matter) can contain information about what is happening elsewhere, suggests an exciting prospect of tracing the meaning of a message (or of a thought) to its informational origins in the environment. To do this in detail is what a semantic theory of information is about. The mathematical theory of information is purely concerned with information in its quantitative dimension. It deals with how to measure and transmit amounts of information and leaves to others the work of saying what (how) meaning or content comes to be associated with a signal or message. In regard to amounts of information, we need a way to measure how much information is generated by an event (or message) and how to represent that amount. Information theory provides the answer. Since information is an objective entity, the amount of information associated with an event is related to the objective probability (likelihood) of the event. Events that are less likely to occur generate more information than those more likely to occur. Thus, to discover that the toss of a fair coin came up heads contains more information than to discover this about the toss of a coin biased (.8) toward heads. Or, to discover that a lie was knowingly broadcast by a censored, state-run radio station, contains less information than that a lie was knowingly broadcast by a non-censored, free radio station (say, the BBC). A (perhaps surprising) consequence of associating amounts of information with objective likelihoods of events is that some events generate no information at all. That is, that 55 % 3125 or that water freezes at 0oC. (on a specific occasion) generates no information at allsince these things cannot be otherwise (their probability of being otherwise is zero). Thus, their occurrence generates zero information. Shannon was seeking to measure the amount of information generated by a message and the amount transmitted by its reception (or about average amounts transmissible over a channel). Since his work, it has become standard to think of the measure of information in terms of reductions of uncertainty. Information is identified with the reduction of uncertainty or elimination of possibilities represented by the occurrence of an event or state of affairs. The amount of information is identified with how many possibilities are eliminated. Although other measures are possible, the most convenient and intuitive way that this quantity is standardly represented is as a logarithm (to the base 2) and measured in bits (short for how many binary digits) needed to represent binary decisions involved in the reduction or elimination of possibilities. If person A chooses a message to send to person B, from among 16 equally likely alternative messages (say, which number came up in a fair drawing from 16 numbers), the choice of one message would represent 4 bits of information (16 % 24 or log2 16 % 4). Thus, to calculate the amount of information generated by a selection from equally likely messages (signals, events), the amount of information I of the message s is calculated I(s) % logn. If there is a range of messages (s1 . . . sN) not all of which are equally likely (letting (p (si) % the probability of any si’s occurrence), the amount of information generated by the selection of any message si is calculated I(si) % log 1/p(si) % –log p(si) [log 1/x % –log x] While each of these formulas says how much information is generated by the selection of a specific message, communication theory is seldom primarily interested in these measures. Philosophers are interested, however. For if knowledge that p requires receiving the information that p occurred, and if p’s occurrence represents 4 bits of information, then S would know that p occurred only if S received information equal to (at least) 4 bits. This may not be sufficient for S to know pfor S must receive the right amount of information in a non-deviant causal way and S must be able to extract the content of the informationbut this seems clearly necessary. Other measures of information of interest in communication theory include the average information, or entropy, of a source, information theory information theory 436 4065h-l.qxd 08/02/1999 7:40 AM Page 436 I(s) % 9p(si) $ I(si), a measure for noise (the amount of information that person B receives that was not sent by person A), and for equivocation (the amount of information A wanted or tried to send to B that B did not receive). These concepts from information theory and the formulas for measuring these quantities of information (and others) provide a rich source of tools for communication applications as well as philosophical applications. informed consent, voluntary agreement in the light of relevant information, especially by a patient to a medical procedure. An example would be consent to a specific medical procedure by a competent adult patient who has an adequate understanding of all the relevant treatment options and their risks. It is widely held that both morality and law require that no medical procedures be performed on competent adults without their informed consent. This doctrine of informed consent has been featured in case laws since the 1950s, and has been a focus of much discussion in medical ethics. Underwritten by a concern to protect patients’ rights to self-determination and also by a concern with patients’ well-being, the doctrine was introduced in an attempt to delineate physicians’ duties to inform patients of the risks and benefits of medical alternatives and to obtain their consent to a particular course of treatment or diagnosis. Interpretation of the legitimate scope of the doctrine has focused on a variety of issues concerning what range of patients is competent to give consent and hence from which ones informed consent must be required; concerning how much, how detailed, and what sort of information must be given to patients to yield informed consent; and concerning what sorts of conditions are required to ensure both that there is proper understanding of the information and that consent is truly voluntary rather than unduly influenced by the institutional authority of the physician.

 

IN-SCRIPTVM -- inscriptum -- inscriptionalism -- nominalism. While Grice pours scorn on the American School of Latter-Day  Nominalists, nominalism, as used by Grice is possibly a momer. He doesn’t mean Occam, and Occam did not use ‘nominalismus.’ “Terminimus’ at most. So one has to be careful. The implicaturum is that the nominalist calls a ‘name’ what others shouldn’t.  Mind, Grice had two nominalist friends: S. N. Hamphsire (Scepticism and meaning”) and A. M. Quinton, of the play group! In “Properties and classes,” for the Aristotelian Society. And the best Oxford philosophical stylist, Bradley, is also a nominalist. There are other, more specific arguments against universals. One is that postulating such things leads to a vicious infinite regress. For suppose there are universals, both monadic and relational, and that when an entity instantiates a universal, or a group of entities instantiate a relational universal, they are linked by an instantiation relation. Suppose now that a instantiates the universal F. Since there are many things that instantiate many universals, it is plausible to suppose that instantiation is a relational universal. But if instantiation is a relational universal, when a instantiates F, a, F and the instantiation relation are linked by an instantiation relation. Call this instantiation relation i₂ (and suppose it, as is plausible, to be distinct from the instantiation relation (i₁) that links a and F). Then since i₂ is also a universal, it looks as if a, F, i₁ and i₂ will have to be linked by another instantiation relation i₃, and so on ad infinitum. (This argument has its source in Bradley 1893, 27–8.)

 

IN-SINUATUM -- insinuatum: Cf. ‘indirectum’ Oddly, Ryle found an ‘insinuation’ abusive, which Russell found abusive. When McGuinness listed the abusive terms by Gellner, ‘insinuation’ was one of them, so perhaps Grice should take note! insinuation insinuate. The etymology is abscure. Certainly not Ciceronian. A bit of linguistic botany, “E implicates that p”implicate to do duty for, in alphabetic order: mean, suggest, hint, insinuate, indicate, implicitly convey, indirectly convey, imply. Intransitive meaning "hint obliquely" is from 1560s. The problem is that Grice possibly used it transitively, with a ‘that’-clause. “Emissor E communicates that p, via insinuation,” i.e. E insinuates that p.” In fact, there’s nothing odd with the ‘that’-clause following ‘insinuate.’ Obviosuly, Grice will be saying that what is a mere insinuation it is taken by Austin, Strawson, Hart or Hare or Hampshireas he criticizes him in the “Mind” article on intention and certainty -- (to restrict to mistakes by the play group) as part of the ‘analysans.’ `Refs. D. Holdcroft, “Forms of indirect communication,” Journal of Rhetoric, H. P. Grice, “Communicatum: directum-indirectum.”

 

Swinehead: “I like Swineheadit sounds almost like Grice!”Grice. Merton school.

 

solubile -- insolubile: “As opposed to the ‘piece-of-cake’ solubilia”Grice. A solubile is a piece of a cake. An insolubile is a sentences embodying a semantic antinomy such as the liar paradox. The insolubile is used by philosophers to analyze a self-nullifying sentences, the possibility that every sentence implies that they are true, and the relation between a communicatum and an animatum (psi). At first, Grice focuses on nullification to explicate a sentence like ‘I am lying’ (“Mento.” “Mendax”) which, when spoken, entails that the utterer “says nothing.” Grice: “Bradwardine suggests that such a sentence as “Mento” signifies that it is at once true and false, prompting Burleigh to argue that every sentences implies that it is true.” “Swineshead uses the insolubile to distinguish between truth and correspondence to reality.” While ‘This sentence is false’ is itself false, it corresponds to reality, while its contradiction, ‘This sentence is not false,’ does not, although the latter is also false. “Wyclif uses the insolubile to describe the senses (or implicatura) in which a sentence can be true, which led to his belief in the reality of logical beings or entities of reason, a central tenet of his realism.” “d’Ailly uses the insolubile to explain how the animatum (or soul) differs from the communicatum, holding that there is no insoluble in the soul, but that communication lends itself to the phenomenon by admitting a single sentence corresponding to two distinct states of the soul. Grice: “Of course that was Swine’s unEnglish overstatement, ‘unsolvable;’ everything is solvable!” Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Liars at Oxford.”

 

IN-STITUTUM -- institutumGrice speaks of the institution of decision as the goal of conversation -- institution. (1) An organization such as a corporation or college. (2) A social practice such as marriage or making promises. (3) A system of rules defining a possible form of social organization, such as capitalist versus Communist principles of economic exchange. In light of the power of institutions to shape societies and individual lives, writers in professional ethics have explored four main issues. First, what political and legal institutions are feasible, just, and otherwise desirable (Plato, Republic; Rawls, A Theory of Justice)? Second, how are values embedded in institutions through the constitutive rules that define them (for example, “To promise is to undertake an obligation”), as well as through regulatory rules imposed on them from outside, such that to participate in institutions is a value-laden activity (Searle, Speech Acts, 1969)? Third, do institutions have collective responsibilities or are the only responsibilities those of individuals, and in general how are the responsibilities of individuals, institutions, and communities related? Fourth, at a more practical level, how can we prevent institutions from becoming corrupted by undue regard for money and power (MacIntyre, After Virtue, 1981) and by patriarchal prejudices (Susan Moller Okin, Justice, Gender, and the Family, 1989)? -- institutional theory of art, the view that something becomes an artwork by virtue of occupying a certain position within the context of a set of institutions. George Dickie originated this theory of art (Art and the Aesthetic, 1974), which was derived loosely from Arthur Danto’s “The Artworld” (Journal of Philosophy, 1964). In its original form it was the view that a work of art is an artifact that has the status of candidate for appreciation conferred upon it by some person acting on behalf of the art world. That is, there are institutionssuch as museums, galleries, and journals and newspapers that publish reviews and criticismand there are individuals who work within those institutionscurators, directors, dealers, performers, criticswho decide, by accepting objects or events for discussion and display, what is art and what is not. The concept of artifactuality may be extended to include found art, conceptual art, and other works that do not involve altering some preexisting material, by holding that a use, or context for display, is sufficient to make something into an artifact. This definition of art raises certain questions. What determinesindependently of such notions as a concern with artwhether an institution is a member of the art world? That is, is the definition ultimately circular? What is it to accept something as a candidate for appreciation? Might not this concept also threaten circularity, since there could be not only artistic but also other kinds of appreciation?

 

instrumentum: is Grice an instrumentalist? According to C. Lord (“Griceian instrumentalism”) he isbut he is not! Lord takes ‘tool’ literally. In Grice’s analysandum of the act of the communicatum, Lord takes ‘x’ to be a ‘tool’ or instrument for the production of a response in the emisor’s sendee. But is this the original Roman meaning of ‘instrumentum’? Griceian aesthetic instrumetalism according to Catherine Lord. instrumentalism, in its most common meaning, a kind of anti-realistic view of scientific theories wherein theories are construed as calculating devices or instruments for conveniently moving from a given set of observations to a predicted set of observations. As such the theoretical statements are not candidates for truth or reference, and the theories have no ontological import. This view of theories is grounded in a positive distinction between observation statements and theoretical statements, and the according of privileged epistemic status to the former. The view was fashionable during the era of positivism but then faded; it was recently revived, in large measure owing to the genuinely perplexing character of quantum theories in physics. ’Instrumentalism’ has a different and much more general meaning associated with the pragmatic epistemology of Dewey. Deweyan instrumentalism is a general functional account of all concepts (scientific ones included) wherein the epistemic status of concepts and the rationality status of actions are seen as a function of their role in integrating, predicting, and controlling our concrete interactions with our experienced world. There is no positivistic distinction instantiation instrumentalism 438 4065h-l.qxd 08/02/1999 7:40 AM Page 438 between observation and theory, and truth and reference give way to “warranted assertability.”

 

INTER-LEGO: intellectum: The noun is ‘intellectus.’ But what is understood is ‘the intellectum’cf. ‘implicatum’ -- hile the ‘dianoia’ is the intellectus, the ‘intellectum’ is the Griceian diaphanous ‘what is understood.’ (dianoia): Grice was fascinated by Cicero. “The way he managed to translate the Grecian ‘dia’ by the ‘inter is genial!” As Short and Lewis have it, it’s from “inter-legere,” to see into, perceive, understand. “intelligere,” originally meaning to comprehend, appeared frequently in Cicero, then underwent a slippage in its passive form, “intelligetur,” toward to understand, to communicate, to mean, ‘to give it to be understood.’ What is understoodINTELLECTUM -- by an expression can be not only its obvious sense but also something that is connoted, implied, insinuated, IMPLICATED, as Grice would prefer. Verstand, corresponding to Greek dianoia and Latin intellectio] Kant distinguished understanding from sensibility and reason. While sensibility is receptive, understanding is spontaneous. While understanding is concerned with the range of phenomena and is empty without intuition, reason, which moves from judgment to judgment concerning phenomena, is tempted to extend beyond the limits of experience to generate fallacious inferences. Kant claimed that the main act of understanding is judgment and called it a faculty of judgment. He claimed that there is an a priori concept or category corresponding to each kind of judgment as its logical function and that understanding is constituted by twelve categories. Hence understanding is also a faculty of concepts. Understanding gives the synthetic unity of appearance through the categories. It thus brings together intuitions and concepts and makes experience possible. It is a lawgiver of nature. Herder criticized Kant for separating sensibility and understanding. Fichte and Hegel criticized him for separating understanding and reason. Some neo-Kantians criticized him for deriving the structure of understanding from the act of judgment. “Now we can reduce all acts of the understanding to judgements, and the understanding may therefore be represented as a faculty of judgement.” Kant, Critique of Pure Reason Intellectus -- dianoia, Grecian term for the faculty of thought, specifically of drawing conclusions from assumptions and of constructing and following arguments. The term may also designate the thought that results from using this faculty. We would use dianoia to construct a mathematical proof; in contrast, a being  if there is such a being it would be a god  that could simply intuit the truth of the theorem would use the faculty of intellectual intuition, noûs. In contrast with noûs, dianoia is the distinctly human faculty of reason. Plato uses noûs and dianoia to designate, respectively, the highest and second levels of the faculties represented on the divided line Republic 511de.  PLATO. E.C.H. dialectical argument dianoia 233   233 dichotomy paradox. Refs: Grice, “The criteria of intelligence.”

 

IN-TENSVMEX-TENSVM -- intensionalism: Grice finds a way to relieve a predicate that is vacuous from the embarrassing consequence of denoting or being satisfied by the empty set. Grice exploits the nonvoidness of a predicate which is part of the definition of the void predicate. Consider the vacuous predicate:‘... is married to a daughter of an English queen and a pope.'The class '... is a daugther of an English queen and a pope.'is co-extensive with the predicate '... stands in relation  to a sequence composed of the class married to, daughters, English queens, and popes.'We correlate the void predicate with the sequence composed of relation R, the set ‘married to,’ the set ‘daughters,’ the set ‘English queens,’ and the set ‘popes.'Grice uses this sequence, rather than the empty set, to determine the explanatory potentiality of a void predicate. The admissibility of a nonvoid predicate in an explanation of a possible phenomenon (why it would happen if it did happen) may depends on the availability of a generalisation whithin which the predicate specifies the antecedent condition. A non-trivial generalisations of this sort is certainly available if derivable from some further generalisation involving a less specific antecedent condition, supported by an antecedent condition that is specified by means a nonvoid predicate. intension, the meaning or connotation of an expression, as opposed to its extension or denotation, which consists of those things signified by the expression. The intension of a declarative sentence is often taken to be a proposition and the intension of a predicate expression (common noun, adjective) is often taken to be a concept. For Frege, a predicate expression refers to a concept and the intension or Sinn (“sense”) of a predicate expression is a mode of presentation distinct from the concept. Objects like propositions or concepts that can be the intension of terms are called intensional objects. (Note that ‘intensional’ is not the same word as ‘intentional’, although the two are related.) The extension of a declarative sentence is often taken to be a state of affairs and that of a predicate expression to be the set of objects that fall under the concept which is the intension of the term. Extension is not the same as reference. For example, the term ‘red’ may be said to refer to the property redness but to have as its extension the set of all red things. Alternatively properties and relations are sometimes taken to be intensional objects, but the property redness is never taken to be part of the extension of the adjective ‘red’. intensionality, failure of extensionality. A linguistic context is extensional if and only if the extension of the expression obtained by placing any subexpression in that context is the same as the extension of the expression obtained by placing in that context any subexpression with the same extension as the first subexpression. Modal, intentional, and direct quotational contexts are main instances of intensional contexts. Take, e.g., sentential contexts. The extension of a sentence is its truth or falsity (truth-value). The extension of a definite description is what it is true of: ‘the husband of Xanthippe’ and ‘the teacher of Plato’ have the same extension, for they are true of the same man, Socrates. Given this, it is easy to see that ‘Necessarily, . . . was married to Xanthippe’ is intensional, for ‘Necessarily, the husband of Xanthippe was married to Xanthippe’ is true, but ‘Necessarily, the teacher of Plato was married to Xanthippe’ is not. Other modal terms that generate intensional contexts include ‘possibly’, ‘impossibly’, ‘essentially’, ‘contingently’, etc. Assume that Smith has heard of Xanthippe but not Plato. ‘Smith believes that . . . was married to Xanthippe’ is intensional, for ‘Smith believes that the husband of Xanthippe was married to Xanthippe’ is true, but ‘Smith believes that the teacher of Plato was married to Xanthippe’ is not. Other intentional verbs that generate intensional contexts include ‘know’, ‘doubt’, ‘wonder’, ‘fear’, ‘intend’, ‘state’, and ‘want’. ‘The fourth word in “. . . “ has nine letters’ is intensional, for ‘The fourth word in “the husband of Xanthippe” has nine letters’ is true but ‘the fourth word in “the teacher of Plato” has nine letters’ is not. intensional logic, that part of deductive logic which treats arguments whose validity or invalidity depends on strict difference, or identity, of meaning. The denotation of a singular term (i.e., a proper name or definite description), the class of things of which a predicate is true, and the truth or falsity (the truth-value) of a sentence may be called the extensions of these respective linguistic expressions. Their intensions are their meanings strictly so called: the (individual) concept conveyed by the singular term, the property expressed by the predicate, and the proposition asserted by the sentence. The most extensively studied part of formal logic deals largely with inferences turning only on extensions. One principle of extensional logic is that if two singular terms have identical denotations, the truth-values of corresponding sentences containing the terms are identical. Thus the inference from ‘Bern is the capital of Switzerland’ to ‘You are in Bern if and only if you are in the capital of Switzerland’ is valid. But this is invalid: ‘Bern is the capital of Switzerland. Therefore, you believe that you are in Bern if and only if you believe that you are in the capital of Switzerland.’ For one may lack the belief instrumental rationality intensional logic 439 4065h-l.qxd 08/02/1999 7:40 AM Page 439 that Bern is the capital of Switzerland. It seems that we should distinguish between the intensional meanings of ‘Bern’ and of ‘the capital of Switzerland’. One supposes that only a strict identity of intension would license interchange in such a context, in which they are in the scope of a propositional attitude. It has been questioned whether the idea of an intension really applies to proper names, but parallel examples are easily constructed that make similar use of the differences in the meanings of predicates or of whole sentences. Quite generally, then, the principle that expressions with the same extension may be interchanged with preservation of extension of the containing expression, seems to fail for such “intensional contexts.” The range of expressions producing such sensitive contexts includes psychological verbs like ‘know’, ‘believe’, ‘suppose’, ‘assert’, ‘desire’, ‘allege’, ‘wonders whether’; expressions conveying modal ideas such as necessity, possibility, and impossibility; some adverbs, e.g. ‘intentionally’; and a large number of other expressions’prove’, ‘imply’, ‘make probable’, etc. Although reasoning involving some of these is well understood, there is not yet general agreement on the best methods for dealing with arguments involving many of these notions.

 

IN-TENSVUM -- intentionalism: Grice analyses ‘intend’ in two prongs; the first is a willing-clause, and the second is a causal clause about the willing causing the action. It’s a simplified account that he calls Prichardian because he relies on ‘willin that.’ The intender intends that some action takes place. It does not have to be an action by the intender. Cf. Suppes’s specific section. when Anscombe comes out with her “Intention,” Grice’s Play Group does not know what to do. Hampshire is almost finished with his “Thought and action” that came out the following year. Grice is lecturing on how a “dispositional” reductive analysis of ‘intention’ falls short of his favoured instrospectionalism. Had he not fallen for an intention-based semantics (or strictly, an analysis of "U means that p" in terms of U intends that p"), Grice would be obsessed with an analysis of ‘intending that …’ James makes an observation about the that-clause. I will that the distant table slides over the floor toward me. It does not. The Anscombe Society. Irish-born Anscombe’s views are often discussed by Oxonian philosophers. She brings Witters to the Dreaming Spires, as it were. Grice is especially connected with Anscombes reflections on intention. While he favoures an approach such as that of Hampshire in Thought and Action, Grice borrows a few points from Anscombe, notably that of direction of fit, originally Austin’s. Grice explicitly refers to Anscombe in “Uncertainty,” and in his reminiscences he hastens to add that Anscombe would never attend any of the Saturday mornings of the play group, as neither does Dummett. The view of Ryle is standardly characterised as a weaker or softer version of behaviourism According to this standard interpretation, the view by Ryle is that a statements containin this or that term relating to the ‘soul’ can be translated, without loss of meaning, into an ‘if’ utterance about what an agent does. So Ryle, on this account, is to be construed as offering a dispositional analysis of a statement about the soul into a statement about behaviour. It is conceded that Ryle does not confine a description of what the agent does to purely physical behaviour—in terms, e. g. of a skeletal or a muscular description. Ryle is happy to speak of a full-bodied action like scoring a goal or paying a debt. But the soft behaviourism attributed to Ryle still attempts an analysis or translation of statement about the soul into this or that dispositional statement which is itself construed as subjunctive if describing what the agent does. Even this soft behaviourism fails. A description of the soul is not analysable or translatable into a statement about behaviour or praxis even if this is allowed to include a non-physical descriptions of action. The list of conditions and possible behaviour is infinite since any one proffered translation may be ‘defeated,’ as Hart and Hall would say, by a slight alteration of the circumstances. The defeating condition in any particular case may involve a reference to a fact about the agent’s soul, thereby rendering the analysis circular. In sum, the standard interpretation of Ryle construes him as offering a somewhat weakened form of reductive behaviourism whose reductivist ambition, however weakened, is nonetheless futile. This characterisation of Ryle’s programme is wrong. Although it is true that he is keen to point out the disposition behind this or that concept about the soul, it would be wrong to construe Ryle as offering a programme of analysis of a ‘soul’ predicate in terms of an ‘if’ utterance. The relationship between a ‘soul’ predicate and the ‘if’ utterance with which he unpack it is other than that required by this kind of analysis. It is helpful to keep in mind that Ryle’s target is the official doctrine with its eschatological commitment. Ryle’s argument serves to remind one that we have in a large number of cases ways of telling or settling disputes, e. g., about someone’s character or intellect. If A disputes a characterisation of Smith as willing that p, or judging that p, B may point to what Smith says and does in defending the attribution, as well as to features of the circumstances. But the practice of giving a reason of this kind to defend or to challenge an ascription of a ‘soul’ predicates would be put under substantial pressure if the official doctrine is correct. For Ryle to remind us that we do, as a matter of fact, have a way of settling disputes about whether Smith wills that he eat an apple is much weaker than saying that the concept of willing is meaningless unless it is observable or verifiable; or even that the successful application of a soul predicate requires that we have a way of settling a dispute in every case. Showing that a concept is one for which, in a large number of cases, we have an agreement-reaching procedure, even if it do not always guarantee success, captures an important point, however: it counts against any theory of, e. g., willing that would render it unknowable in principle or in practice whether or not the concept is correctly applied in every case. And this is precisely the problem with the official doctrine (and is still a problem, with some of its progeny. Ryle points out that there is a form of dilemma that pits the reductionist against the dualist: those whose battle-cry is ‘nothing but…’ and those who insist on ‘something else as well.’ Ryle attempts a dissolution of the dilemma by rejecting the two horns; not by taking sides with either one, though part of what dissolution requires in this case, as in others, is a description of how each side is to be commended for seeing what the other side does not, and criticised for failing to see what the other side does. The attraction of behaviourism, Ryle reminds us, is simply that it does not insist on an occult happening as the basis upon which a ‘soul’ term is given meaning, and points to a perfectly observable criterion that is by and large employed when we are called upon to defend or correct our employment of a ‘soul’ term. The problem with behaviourism is that it has a too-narrow view both of what counts as behaviour and of what counts as observable. Then comes Grice to play with meaning and intending, and allowing for deeming an avowal of this or that souly state as, in some fashion, incorrigible. For Grice, while U does have, ceteris paribus privileged access to each state of his soul, only his or that avowal of this or that souly state is deemed incorrigible. This concerns communication as involving intending. Grice goes back to this at Brighton. He plays with G judges that it is raining, G judges that G judges that it is raining. Again, Grice uses a subscript: “G judges₂ that it is raining.” If now G expresses that it is raining, G judges₂ that it is raining. A second-order avowal is deemed incorrigible. It is not surprising the the contemporary progeny of the official doctrine sees a behaviourist in Grice. Yet a dualist is badly off the mark in his critique of Grice. While Grice does appeal to a practice and a habif, and even the more technical ‘procedure’ in the ordinary way as ‘procedure’ is used in ordinary discussion. Grice does not make a technical concept out of them as one expect of some behavioural psychologist, which he is not. He is at most a philosophical psychologist, and a functionalist one, rather than a reductionist one. There is nothing in any way that is ‘behaviourist’ or reductionist or physicalist about Grice’s talk. It is just ordinary talk about behaviour. There is nothing exceptional in talking about a practice, a customs, or a habit regarding communication. Grice certainly does not intend that this or that notion, as he uses it, gives anything like a detailed account of the creative open-endedness of a communication-system. What this or that anti-Griceian has to say IS essentially a diatribe first against empiricism (alla Quine), secondarily against a Ryle-type of behaviourism, and in the third place, Grice. In more reasoned and dispassionate terms, one would hardly think of Grice as a behaviourist (he in fact rejects such a label in “Method”), but as an intentionalist. When we call Grice an intentionalist, we are being serious. As a modista, Grice’s keyword is intentionalism, as per the good old scholastic ‘intentio.’ We hope so. This is Aunt Matilda’s conversational knack. Grice keeps a useful correspondence with Suppes which was helpful. Suppes takes Chomsky more seriously than an Oxonian philosopher would. An Oxonian philosopher never takes Chomsky too seriously. Granted, Austin loves to quote “Syntactic Structures” sentence by sentence for fun, knowing that it would never count as tutorial material. Surely “Syntactic Structures” would not be a pamphlet a member of the play group would use to educate his tutee. It is amusing that when he gives the Locke lectures, Chomsky cannot not think of anything better to do but to criticise Grice, and citing him from just one reprint in the collection edited by, of all people, Searle. Some gratitude. The references are very specific to Grice. Grice feels he needs to provide, he thinks, an analysis ‘mean’ as metabolically applied to an expression. Why? Because of the implicaturum. By uttering x (thereby explicitly conveying that p), U implicitly conveys that q iff U relies on some procedure in his and A’s repertoire of procedures of U’s and A’s communication-system. It is this talk of U’s being ‘ready,’ and ‘having a procedure in his repertoire’ that sounds to New-World Chomsky too Morrisian, as it does not to an Oxonian. Suppes, a New-Worlder, puts himself in Old-Worlder Grice’s shoes about this. Chomsky should never mind. When an Oxonian philosopher, not a psychologist, uses ‘procedure’ and ‘readiness,’ and having a procedure in a repertoire, he is being Oxonian and not to be taken seriously, appealing to ordinary language, and so on. Chomsky apparently does get it. Incidentally, Suppess has defended Grice against two other targets, less influential. One is Hungarian-born J. I. Biro, who does not distinguish between reductive analysis and reductionist analysis, as Grice does in his response to Somervillian Rountree-Jack. The other target is perhaps even less influential: P. Yu in a rather simplistic survey of the Griceian programme for a journal that Grice finds too specialized to count, “Linguistics and Philosophy.” Grice is always ashamed and avoided of being described as “our man in the philosophy of language.” Something that could only have happened in the Old World in a red-brick university, as Grice calls it.  Suppes contributes to PGRICE with an excellent ‘The primacy of utterers meaning,’ where he addresses what he rightly sees as an unfair characterisations of Grice as a behaviourist. Suppes’s use of “primacy” is genial, since its metabole which is all about. Biro actually responds to Suppes’s commentary on Grice as proposing a reductive but not reductionist analysis of meaning. Suppes rightly characterises Grice as an Oxonian ‘intentionalist’ (alla Ogden), as one would characterize Hampshire, with philosophical empiricist, and slightly idealist, or better ideationalist, tendencies, rather. Suppes rightly observes that Grice’ use of such jargon is meant to impress. Surely there are more casual ways of referring to this or that utterer having a basic procedure in his repertoire. It is informal and colloquial, enough, though, rather than behaviouristically, as Ryle would have it. Grice is very happy that in the New World Suppes teaches him how to use ‘primacy’ with a straight face! Intentionalism is also all the vogue in Collingwood reading Croce, and Gardiner reading Marty via Ogden, and relates to expression. In his analysis of intending Grice is being very Oxonian, and pre-Austinian: relying, just to tease leader Austin, on Stout, Wilson, Bosanquet, MacMurray, and Pritchard. Refs.: There are two sets of essays. An early one on ‘disposition and intention,’ and the essay for The British Academy (henceforth, BA). Also his reply to Anscombe and his reply to Davidson. There is an essay on the subjective condition on intention. Obviously, his account of communication has been labeled the ‘intention-based semantic’ programme, so references under ‘communication’ above are useful. BANC.Grice's reductIOn, or partial reduction anyway, of meamng to intention places a heavy load on the theory of intentions. But in the articles he has written about these matters he has not been very explicit about the structure of intentIOns. As I understand his position on these matters, it is his view that the defence of the primacy of utterer's meaning does not depend on having worked out any detailed theory of intention. It IS enough to show how the reduction should be thought of in a schematic fashion in order to make a convincing argument. I do think there is a fairly straightforward extenSIOn of Grice's ideas that provides the right way of developing a theory of intentIOns appropnate for Ius theory of utterer's meaning. Slightly changing around some of the words m Grice we have the following The Primacy of Utterer's Meaning 125 example. U utters '''Fido is shaggy", if "U wants A to think that U thinks that Jones's dog is hairy-coated.'" Put another way, U's intention is to want A to think U thinks that Jones's dog is hairy-coated. Such intentions clearly have a generative structure similar but different from the generated syntactic structure we think of verbal utterances' having. But we can even say that the deep structures talked about by grammarians of Chomsky's ilk could best be thought of as intentions. This is not a suggestion I intend to pursue seriously. The important point is that it is a mistake to think about classifications of intentions; rather, we should think in terms of mechanisms for generating intentions. Moreover, it seems to me that such mechanisms in the case of animals are evident enough as expressed in purposeful pursuit of prey or other kinds of food, and yet are not expressed in language. In that sense once again there is an argument in defence of Grice's theory. The primacy of utterer's meaning has primacy because of the primacy of intention. We can have intentions without words, but we cannot have words of any interest without intentions. In this general context, I now turn to Biro's (1979) interesting criticisms of intentionalism in the theory of meaning. Biro deals from his own standpoint with some of the issues I have raised already, but his central thesis about intention I have not previously discussed. It goes to the heart of controversies about the use of the concept of intention to explain the meaning of utterances. Biro puts his point in a general way by insisting that utterance meaning must be separate from and independent of speaker's meaning or, in the terminology used here, utterer's meaning. The central part of his argument is his objection to the possibility of explaining meaning in terms of intentions. Biro's argument goes like this: 1. A central purpose of speech is to enable others to learn about the speaker's intentions. 2. It will be impossible to discover or understand the intentions of the speaker unless there are independent means for understanding what he says, since what he says will be primary evidence about his intentions. 3. Thus the meaning of an utterance must be conceptually independent of the intentions of the speaker. This is an appealing positivistic line. The data relevant to a theory or hypothesis must be known independently of the hypothesis. Biro is quick to state that he is not against theoretical entities, but the way in which he separates theoretical entities and observable facts makes clear the limited role he wants them to play, in this case the theoretical entities being intentions. The central idea is to be found in the following passage: The point I am insisting on here is merely that the ascription of an intention to an agent has the character of an hypothesis, something invoked to explain phenomena which may be described independently of that explanation (though not necessarily independently of the fact that they fall into a class for which the hypothesis in question generally or normally provides an explanation). ( 250-1.) [The italics are Biro's.] Biro's aim is clear from this quotation. The central point is that the data about intentions, namely, the utterance, must be describable independently of hypotheses about the intentions. He says a little later to reinforce this: 'The central pointis this: it is the intention-hypothesis that is revisable, not the act-description' (p. 251). Biro's central mistake, and a large one too, is to think that data can be described independently of hypotheses and that somehow there is a clean and simple version of data that makes such description a natural and inevitable thing to have. It would be easy enough to wander off into a description of such problems in physics, where experiments provide a veritable wonderland of seemingly arbitrary choices about what to include and what to exclude from the experimental experience as 'relevant data', and where the arbitrariness can only be even partly understood on the basis of understanding the theories bemg tested. Real data do not come in simple linear strips like letters on the page. Real experiments are blooming confusions that never get sorted out completely but only partially and schematically, as appropriate to the theory or theories being tested, and in accordance with the traditions and conventions of past similar experiments. makes a point about the importance of convention that I agree but it is irrelevant to my central of controversy with  What I say about experiments is even more true of undisciplined and unregulated human interactiono Experiments, especially in physics, are presumably among the best examples of disciplined and structured action. Most conversations, in contrast, are really examples of situations of confusion that are only straightened out under strong hypotheses of intentions on the of speakers and listeners as well. There is more than one level at which the takes The Primacy of Utterer's Meaning 127 place through the beneficent use of hypotheses about intentions. I shall not try to deal with all of them here but only mention some salient aspects. At an earlier point, Biro says:The main reason for introducing intentions into some of these analyses is precisely that the public (broadly speaking) features of utterances -the sounds made, the circumstances in which they are made and the syntactic and semantic properties of these noises considered as linguistic items-are thought to be insufficient for the specification of that aspect of the utterance which we call its meaning. [po 244.] If we were to take this line of thought seriously and literally, we would begin with the sound pressure waves that reach our ears and that are given the subtle and intricate interpretation required to accept them as speech. There is a great variety of evidence that purely acoustical concepts are inadequate for the analysis of speech. To determine the speech content of a sound pressure wave we need extensive hypotheses about the intentions that speakers have in order to convert the public physical features of utterances into intentional linguistic items. Biro might object at where I am drawing the line between public and intentional, namely, at the difference between physical and linguistic, but it would be part of my thesis that it is just because of perceived and hypothesized intentions that we are mentally able to convert sound pressure waves into meaningful speech. In fact, I can envisage a kind of transcendental argument for the existence of intentions based on the impossibility from the standpoint of physics alone of interpreting sound pressure waves as speech. Biro seems to have in mind the nice printed sentences of science and philosophy that can be found on the printed pages of treatises around the world. But this is not the right place to begin to think about meaning, only the end point. Grice, and everybody else who holds an intentional thesis about meaning, recognizes the requirement to reach an account of such timeless sentence meaning or linguistic meaning.In fact, Grice is perhaps more ready than I am to concede that such a theory can be developed in a relatively straightforward manner. One purpose of my detailed discussion of congruence of meaning in the previous section is to point out some of the difficulties of having an adequate detailed theory of these matters, certainly an adequate detailed theory of the linguistic meaning or the sentence meaning. Even if I were willing to grant the feasibility of such a theory, I would not grant the use of it that Biro has made. For the purposes of this discussion printed text may be accepted as well-defined, theoryindependent data. (There are even issues to be raised about the printed page, but ones that I will set aside in the present context. I have in mind the psychological difference between perception of printed letters, words, phrases, or sentences, and that of related but different nonlinguistic marks on paper.) But no such data assumptions can be made about spoken speech. Still another point of attack on Biro's positivistic line about data concerns the data of stress and prosody and their role in fixing the meaning of an utterance. Stress and prosody are critical to the interpretation of the intentions of speakers, but the data on stress and prosody are fleeting and hard to catch on the fly_ Hypotheses about speakers' intentions are needed even in the most humdrum interpret atins of what a given prosodic contour or a given point of stress has contributed to the meaning of the utterance spoken. The prosodic contour and the points of stress of an utterance are linguistic data, but they do not have the independent physical description Biro vainly hopes for. Let me put my point still another way. I do not deny for a second that conventions and traditions of speech play a role in fixing the meaning of a particular utterance on a particular occasion. It is not a matter of interpretmg afresh, as if the universe had just begun, a particular utterance in terms of particular intentions at that time and place without dependence upon past prior mtentions and the traditions of spoken speech that have evolved in the community of which the speaker and listener are a part. It is rather that hypotheses about intentions are operating continually and centrally in the interpretation of what is said. Loose, live speech depends upon such active 'on-line' interpretation of intention to make sense of what has been said. If there were some absolutely agreed-upon concept of firm and definite linguistlc meaning that Biro and others could appeal to, then it might be harder to make the case I am arguing for. But I have already argued in the discussion of congruence of meaning that this is precisely what is not the case. The absence of any definite and satisfactory theory of linguistic meaning argues also for movmg back to the more concrete and psychologically richer concept of utterer's meaning. This is the place to begin the theory of meaning, and this Itself rests to a very large extent on the concept of intention -- intention, (1) a characteristic of action, as when one acts intentionally or with a certain intention; (2) a feature of one’s mind, as when one intends (has an intention) to act in a certain way now or in the future. Betty, e.g., intentionally walks across the room, does so with the intention of getting a drink, and now intends to leave the party later that night. An important question is: how are (1) and (2) related? (See Anscombe, Intention, 1963, for a groundbreaking treatment of these and other basic problems concerning intention.) Some philosophers see acting with an intention as basic and as subject to a three-part analysis. For Betty to walk across the room with the intention of getting a drink is for Betty’s walking across the room to be explainable (in the appropriate way) by her desire or (as is sometimes said) pro-attitude in favor of getting a drink and her belief that walking across the room is a way of getting one. On this desire-belief model (or wantbelief model) the main elements of acting with an intention are (a) the action, (b) appropriate desires (pro-attitudes) and beliefs, and (c) an appropriate explanatory relation between (a) and (b). (See Davidson, “Actions, Reasons, and Causes” in Essays on Actions and Events, 1980.) In explaining (a) in terms of (b) we give an explanation of the action in terms of the agent’s purposes or reasons for so acting. This raises the fundamental question of what kind of explanation this is, and how it is related to explanation of Betty’s movements by appeal to their physical causes. What about intentions to act in the future? Consider Betty’s intention to leave the party later. Though the intended action is later, this intention may nevertheless help explain some of Betty’s planning and acting between now and then. Some philosophers try to fit such futuredirected intentions directly into the desire-belief model. John Austin, e.g., would identify Betty’s intention with her belief that she will leave later because of her desire to leave (Lectures on Jurisprudence,  I, 1873). Others see futuredirected intentions as distinctive attitudes, not to be reduced to desires and/or beliefs. How is belief related to intention? One question here is whether an intention to A requires a belief that one will A. A second question is whether a belief that one will A in executing some intention ensures that one intends to A. Suppose that Betty believes that by walking across the room she will interrupt Bob’s conversation. Though she has no desire to interrupt, she still proceeds across the room. Does she intend to interrupt the conversation? Or is there a coherent distinction between what one intends and what one merely expects to bring about as a result of doing what one intends? One way of talking about such cases, due to Bentham (An Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation, 1789), is to say that Betty’s walking across the room is “directly intentional,” whereas her interrupting the conversation is only “obliquely intentional” (or indirectly intentional). -- intentional fallacy, the (purported) fallacy of holding that the meaning of a work of art is fixed by the artist’s intentions. (Wimsatt and Beardsintensive magnitude intentional fallacy 440 4065h-l.qxd 08/02/1999 7:40 AM Page 440 ley, who introduced the term, also used it to name the [purported] fallacy that the artist’s aims are relevant to determining the success of a work of art; however, this distinct usage has not gained general currency.) Wimsatt and Beardsley were formalists; they held that interpretation should focus purely on the work of art itself and should exclude appeal to biographical information about the artist, other than information concerning the private meanings the artist attached to his words. Whether the intentional fallacy is in fact a fallacy is a much discussed issue within aesthetics. Intentionalists deny that it is: they hold that the meaning of a work of art is fixed by some set of the artist’s intentions. For instance, Richard Wollheim (Painting as an Art) holds that the meaning of a painting is fixed by the artist’s fulfilled intentions in making it. Other intentionalists appeal not to the actual artist’s intentions, but to the intentions of the implied or postulated artist, a construct of criticism, rather than a real person. See also AESTHETIC FORMALISM, AESTHETICS, INTENTION. B.Ga. intentionality, aboutness. Things that are about other things exhibit intentionality. Beliefs and other mental states exhibit intentionality, but so, in a derived way, do sentences and books, maps and pictures, and other representations. The adjective ‘intentional’ in this philosophical sense is a technical term not to be confused with the more familiar sense, characterizing something done on purpose. Hopes and fears, for instance, are not things we do, not intentional acts in the latter, familiar sense, but they are intentional phenomena in the technical sense: hopes and fears are about various things. The term was coined by the Scholastics in the Middle Ages, and derives from the Latin verb intendo, ‘to point (at)’ or ‘aim (at)’ or ‘extend (toward)’. Phenomena with intentionality thus point outside of themselves to something else: whatever they are of or about. The term was revived by the nineteenth-century philosopher and psychologist Franz Brentano, who claimed that intentionality defines the distinction between the mental and the physical; all and only mental phenomena exhibit intentionality. Since intentionality is an irreducible feature of mental phenomena, and since no physical phenomena could exhibit it, mental phenomena could not be a species of physical phenomena. This claim, often called the Brentano thesis or Brentano’s irreducibility thesis, has often been cited to support the view that the mind cannot be the brain, but this is by no means generally accepted today. There was a second revival of the term in the 1960s and 1970s by analytic philosophers, in particular Chisholm, Sellars, and Quine. Chisholm attempted to clarify the concept by shifting to a logical definition of intentional idioms, the terms used to speak of mental states and events, rather than attempting to define the intentionality of the states and events themselves. Intentional idioms include the familiar “mentalistic” terms of folk psychology, but also their technical counterparts in theories and discussions in cognitive science, ‘X believes that p,’ and ‘X desires that q’ are paradigmatic intentional idioms, but according to Chisholm’s logical definition, in terms of referential opacity (the failure of substitutivity of coextensive terms salva veritate), so are such less familiar idioms as ‘X stores the information that p’ and ‘X gives high priority to achieving the state of affairs that q’. Although there continue to be deep divisions among philosophers about the proper definition or treatment of the concept of intentionality, there is fairly widespread agreement that it marks a featureaboutness or contentthat is central to mental phenomena, and hence a central, and difficult, problem that any theory of mind must solve.

 

INTER-SUB-IAECTVM -- intersubjectiveGrice: “Who was the first Grecian philosopher to philosophise on conversational intersubjectivity? Surely Plato! Socrates is just his alter egoand after Aeschylus, there is always a ‘deuterogonist’”! conversational intersubjectivity. Philosophical sociologyWhile Grice saw himself as a philosophical psychologist, he would rather be seen dead than as a philosophical sociologist‘intersubjective at most’! -- Comte: A. philosopher and sociologist, the founder of positivism. He was educated in Paris at l’École Polytechnique, where he briefly taught mathematics. He suffered from a mental illness that occasionally interrupted his work. In conformity with empiricism, Comte held that knowledge of the world arises from observation. He went beyond many empiricists, however, in denying the possibility of knowledge of unobservable physical objects. He conceived of positivism as a method of study based on observation and restricted to the observable. He applied positivism chiefly to science. He claimed that the goal of science is prediction, to be accomplished using laws of succession. Explanation insofar as attainable has the same structure as prediction. It subsumes events under laws of succession; it is not causal. Influenced by Kant, he held that the causes of phenomena and the nature of things-in-themselves are not knowable. He criticized metaphysics for ungrounded speculation about such matters; he accused it of not keeping imagination subordinate to observation. He advanced positivism for all the sciences but held that each science has additional special methods, and has laws not derivable by human intelligence from laws of other sciences. He corresponded extensively with J. S. Mill, who Comte, Auguste Comte, Auguste 168   168 encouraged his work and discussed it in Auguste Comte and Positivism 1865. Twentieth-century logical positivism was inspired by Comte’s ideas. Comte was a founder of sociology, which he also called social physics. He divided the science into two branches  statics and dynamics dealing respectively with social organization and social development. He advocated a historical method of study for both branches. As a law of social development, he proposed that all societies pass through three intellectual stages, first interpreting phenomena theologically, then metaphysically, and finally positivistically. The general idea that societies develop according to laws of nature was adopted by Marx. Comte’s most important work is his six-volume Cours de philosophie positive Course in Positive Philosophy, 183042. It is an encyclopedic treatment of the sciences that expounds positivism and culminates in the introduction of sociology.

 

INTER-VENTUM -- intervention -- intervening variable, in Grice’s philosophical psychology, a state of an organism, person or, as Grice prefers, a ‘pirot,’ (vide his ‘pirotology’) or ‘creature,’ postulated to explain the pirot’s behaviour and defined in ‘functioanlist,’ Aristotelian terms of its cause (perceptual input) and effect (the behavioural output to be explained by attribution of a state of the ‘soul’) rather than its intrinsic properties. A food drive or need for nuts, in a squarrel (as Grice calls his ‘Toby’) conceived as an intervening variable, is defined in terms of the number of hours without food (the cause) and the strength or robustness of efforts to secure it (effect).. The squarrel’s feeling hungry (‘needing a nut), is no longer an intrinsic propertythe theoretical term ‘need’ is introduced in a ramseyified sentence by describingand it need not be co-related to a state in the brainsince there is room for variable realisability. Grice sees at least three reasons for postulating an intervening variable (like the hours without nut-hobbling). First, time lapse between stimulus (perceptual input) and behavioural output may be large, as when an animaleven a squirrel -- eats food found hours earlier. Why did not the animal hobble the nut when it first found it? Perhaps at the time of discovery, the squarrel had already eaten, so food drive (the squarrel’s need) is reduced. Second, Toby may act differently in the same sort of situation, as when Toby hobbles a nut at noon one day but delay until sunset the next. Again, this may be because of variation in food drive or the squarrel’s need. Third, behaviour may occur in the absence of external stimulation or perceptual input, as when Toby forages for nut for the winter. This, too, may be explained by the strength of the food drive or squarrel’s need. An intervening variables has been viewed, as Grice notes reviewing Oxonian philosophical psychology from Stout to Ryle via Prichard) depending on the background theory, as a convenient ‘fiction’ (as Ramsey, qua theoretical construct) or as a psychologically real state, or as a physically real state with multiple realisability conditions. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Method in philosophical psychology: from the banal to the bizarre,” in “The Conception of value.”

 

IN-TUITUM -- intuitum: Grice: “At Oxford, the tutor teaches to trust your ‘intuition’and will point to the cognateness of ‘tutor’ and ‘in-tuition’!”tŭĕor , tuĭtus, 2 (  I.perf. only post-Aug., Quint. 5, 13, 35; Plin. Ep. 6, 29, 10; collat. form tūtus, in the part., rare, Sall. J. 74, 3; Front. Strat. 2, 12, 13; but constantly in the P. a.; inf. parag. tuerier, Plaut. Rud. 1, 4, 35; collat. form acc. to the 3d conj. tŭor , Cat. 20, 5; Stat. Th. 3, 151: “tuĕris,” Plaut. Trin. 3, 2, 82: “tuimur,” Lucr. 1, 300; 4, 224; 4, 449; “6, 934: tuamur,” id. 4, 361: “tuantur,” id. 4, 1004; imper. tuĕre, id. 5, 318), v. dep. a. [etym. dub.], orig., to see, to look or gaze upon, to watch, view; hence, pregn., to see or look to, to defend, protect, etc.: tueri duo significat; unum ab aspectu, unde est Ennii illud: tueor te senex? pro Juppiter! (Trag. v. 225 Vahl.); “alterum a curando ac tutela, ut cum dicimus bellum tueor et tueri villam,” Varr. L. L. 7, § 12 Müll. sq.—Accordingly, I. To look at, gaze at, behold, watch, view, regard, consider, examine, etc. (only poet.; syn.: specto, adspicio, intueor): quam te post multis tueor tempestatibus, Pac. ap. Non. 407, 32; 414, 3: “e tenebris, quae sunt in luce, tuemur,” Lucr. 4, 312: “ubi nil aliud nisi aquam caelumque tuentur,” id. 4, 434: “caeli templa,” id. 6, 1228 al.: “tuendo Terribiles oculos, vultum, etc.,” Verg. A. 8, 265; cf. id. ib. 1, 713: “talia dicentem jam dudum aversa tuetur,” id. ib. 4, 362: “transversa tuentibus hircis,” id. E. 3, 8: “acerba tuens,” looking fiercely, Lucr. 5, 33; cf. Verg. A. 9, 794: “torva,” id. ib. 6, 467.— (β). With object-clause: “quod multa in terris fieri caeloque tuentur (homines), etc.,” Lucr. 1, 152; 6, 50; 6, 1163.— II. Pregn., to look to, care for, keep up, uphold, maintain, support, guard, preserve, defend, protect, etc. (the predom. class. signif. of the word; cf.: “curo, conservo, tutor, protego, defendo): videte, ne ... vobis turpissimum sit, id, quod accepistis, tueri et conservare non posse,” Cic. Imp. Pomp. 5, 12: “ut quisque eis rebus tuendis conservandisque praefuerat,” Cic. Verr. 2, 4, 63, 140: “omnia,” id. N. D. 2, 23, 60: “mores et instituta vitae resque domesticas ac familiares,” id. Tusc. 1, 1, 2: “societatem conjunctionis humanae munifice et aeque,” id. Fin. 5, 23, 65: “concordiam,” id. Att. 1, 17, 10: rem et gratiam et auctoritatem suam, id. Fam. 13, 49, 1: “dignitatem,” id. Tusc. 2, 21, 48: “L. Paulus personam principis civis facile dicendo tuebatur,” id. Brut. 20, 80: “personam in re publicā,” id. Phil. 8, 10, 29; cf.: tuum munus, Planc. ap. Cic. Fam. 10, 11, 1: “tueri et sustinere simulacrum pristinae dignitatis,” Cic. Rab. Post. 15, 41: “aedem Castoris P. Junius habuit tuendam,” to keep in good order, Cic. Verr. 2, 1, 50, § 130; cf. Plin. Pan. 51, 1: “Bassum ut incustoditum nimis et incautum,” id. Ep. 6, 29, 10: “libertatem,” Tac. A. 3, 27; 14, 60: “se, vitam corpusque tueri,” to keep, preserve, Cic. Off. 1, 4, 11: “antea majores copias alere poterat, nunc exiguas vix tueri potest,” id. Deiot. 8, 22: “se ac suos tueri,” Liv. 5, 4, 5: “sex legiones (re suā),” Cic. Par. 6, 1, 45: “armentum paleis,” Col. 6, 3, 3: “se ceteris armis prudentiae tueri atque defendere,” to guard, protect, Cic. de Or. 1, 38, 172; cf.: “tuemini castra et defendite diligenter,” Caes. B. C. 3, 94: “suos fines,” id. B. G. 4, 8: “portus,” id. ib. 5, 8: “oppidum unius legionis praesidio,” id. B. C. 2, 23: “oram maritimam,” id. ib. 3, 34: “impedimenta,” to cover, protect, Hirt. B. G. 8, 2.—With ab and abl.: “fines suos ab excursionibus et latrociniis,” Cic. Deiot. 8, 22: “domum a furibus,” Phaedr. 3, 7, 10: mare ab hostibus, Auct. B. Afr. 8, 2.—With contra: “quos non parsimoniā tueri potuit contra illius audaciam,” Cic. Prov. Cons. 5, 11: “liberūm nostrorum pueritiam contra inprobitatem magistratuum,” Cic. Verr. 2, 1, 58, § 153; Quint. 5, 13, 35; Plin. 20, 14, 54, § 152; Tac. A. 6, 47 (41).—With adversus: “tueri se adversus Romanos,” Liv. 25, 11, 7: “nostra adversus vim atque injuriam,” id. 7, 31, 3: “adversus Philippum tueri Athenas,” id. 31, 9, 3; 42, 46, 9; 42, 23, 6: “arcem adversus tres cohortes tueri,” Tac. H. 3, 78; Just. 17, 3, 22; 43, 3, 4.—In part. perf.: “Verres fortiter et industrie tuitus contra piratas Siciliam dicitur,” Quint. 5, 13, 35 (al. tutatus): “Numidas in omnibus proeliis magis pedes quam arma tuta sunt,” Sall. J. 74, 3.!*? 1. Act. form tŭĕo , ēre: “censores vectigalia tuento,” Cic. Leg. 3, 3, 7: “ROGO PER SVPEROS, QVI ESTIS, OSSA MEA TVEATIS,” Inscr. Orell. 4788.— 2. tŭĕor , ēri, in pass. signif.: “majores nostri in pace a rusticis Romanis alebantur et in bello ab his tuebantur,” Varr. R. R. 3, 1, 4; Lucr. 4, 361: “consilio et operā curatoris tueri debet non solum patrimonium, sed et corpus et salus furiosi,” Dig. 27, 10, 7: “voluntas testatoris ex bono et aequo tuebitur,” ib. 28, 3, 17.—Hence, tūtus , a, uma. (prop. well seen to or guarded; hence), safe, secure, out of danger (cf. securus, free from fear). A. Lit. (α). Absol.: “nullius res tuta, nullius domus clausa, nullius vita saepta ... contra tuam cupiditatem,” Cic. Verr. 2, 5, 15, § 39: “cum victis nihil tutum arbitrarentur,” Caes. B. G. 2, 28: “nec se satis tutum fore arbitratur,” Hirt. B. G. 8, 27; cf.: “me biremis praesidio scaphae Tutum per Aegaeos tumultus Aura feret,” Hor. C. 3, 29, 63; Ov. M. 8, 368: “tutus bos rura perambulat,” Hor. C. 4, 5, 17: “quis locus tam firmum habuit praesidium, ut tutus esset?” Cic. Imp. Pomp. 11, 31: “mare tutum praestare,” id. Fl. 13, 31: “sic existimabat tutissimam fore Galliam,” Hirt. B. G. 8, 54: “nemus,” Hor. C. 1, 17, 5: “via fugae,” Cic. Caecin. 15, 44; cf.: “commodior ac tutior receptus,” Caes. B. C. 1, 46: “perfugium,” Cic. Rep. 1, 4, 8: “tutum iter et patens,” Hor. C. 3, 16, 7: “tutissima custodia,” Liv. 31, 23, 9: “praesidio nostro pasci genus esseque tutum,” Lucr. 5, 874: “vitam consistere tutam,” id. 6, 11: “tutiorem et opulentiorem vitam hominum reddere,” Cic. Rep. 1, 2, 3: est et fideli tuta silentio Merces, secure, sure (diff. from certa, definite, certain), Hor. C. 3, 2, 25: “tutior at quanto merx est in classe secundā!” id. S. 1, 2, 47: “non est tua tuta voluntas,” not without danger, Ov. M. 2, 53: “in audaces non est audacia tuta,” id. ib. 10, 544: “externā vi non tutus modo rex, sed invictus,” Curt. 6, 7, 1: “vel tutioris audentiae est,” Quint. 12, prooem. § 4: “ cogitatio tutior,” id. 10, 7, 19: “fuit brevitas illa tutissima,” id. 10, 1, 39: “regnum et diadema tutum Deferens uni,” i. e. that cannot be taken away, Hor. C. 2, 2, 21: male tutae mentis Orestes, i. e. unsound, = male sanae, id. S. 2, 3, 137: quicquid habes, age, Depone tutis auribus, qs. carefully guarded, i. e. safe, faithful, id. C. 1, 27, 18 (cf. the o: auris rimosa, id. S. 2, 6, 46).—Poet., with gen.: “(pars ratium) tuta fugae,” Luc. 9, 346.— (β). With ab and abl.: tutus ab insidiis inimici, Asin. ap. Cic. Fam. 10, 31, 2: “ab insidiis,” Hor. S. 2, 6, 117: “a periculo,” Caes. B. G. 7, 14: “ab hoste,” Ov. H. 11, 44: “ab hospite,” id. M. 1, 144: “a conjuge,” id. ib. 8, 316: “a ferro,” id. ib. 13, 498: “a bello, id. H. (15) 16, 344: ab omni injuriā,” Phaedr. 1, 31, 9.— (γ). With ad and acc.: “turrim tuendam ad omnis repentinos casus tradidit,” Caes. B. C. 3, 39: “ad id, quod ne timeatur fortuna facit, minime tuti sunt homines,” Liv. 25, 38, 14: “testudinem tutam ad omnes ictus video esse,” id. 36, 32, 6.— (δ). With adversus: “adversus venenorum pericula tutum corpus suum reddere,” Cels. 5, 23, 3: “quo tutiores essent adversus ictus sagittarum,” Curt. 7, 9, 2: “loci beneficio adversus intemperiem anni tutus est,” Sen. Ira, 2, 12, 1: “per quem tutior adversus casus steti,” Val. Max. 4, 7, ext. 2: “quorum praesidio tutus adversus hostes esse debuerat,” Just. 10, 1, 7.—（ε) With abl.: incendio fere tuta est Alexandria, Auct. B. Alex. 1, 3.— b. Tutum est, with a subj. -clause, it is prudent or safe, it is the part of a prudent man: “si dicere palam parum tutum est,” Quint. 9, 2, 66; 8, 3, 47; 10, 3, 33: “o nullis tutum credere blanditiis,” Prop. 1, 15, 42: “tutius esse arbitrabantur, obsessis viis, commeatu intercluso sine ullo vulnere victoriā potiri,” Caes. B. G. 3, 24; Quint. 7, 1, 36; 11, 2, 48: “nobis tutissimum est, auctores plurimos sequi,” id. 3, 4, 11; 3, 6, 63.— 2. As subst.: tūtum , i, n., a place of safety, a shelter, safety, security: Tr. Circumspice dum, numquis est, Sermonem nostrum qui aucupet. Th. Tutum probe est, Plaut. Most. 2, 2, 42: “tuta et parvula laudo,” Hor. Ep. 1, 15, 42: “trepidum et tuta petentem Trux aper insequitur,” Ov. M. 10, 714: “in tuto ut collocetur,” Ter. Heaut. 4, 3, 11: “esse in tuto,” id. ib. 4, 3, 30: “ut sitis in tuto,” Cic. Fam. 12, 2, 3: “in tutum eduxi manipulares meos,” Plaut. Most. 5, 1, 7: “in tutum receptus est,” Liv. 2, 19, 6.— B. Transf., watchful, careful, cautious, prudent (rare and not ante-Aug.; “syn.: cautus, prudens): serpit humi tutus nimium timidusque procellae,” Hor. A. P. 28: “tutus et intra Spem veniae cautus,” id. ib. 266: “non nisi vicinas tutus ararit aquas,” Ov. Tr. 3, 12, 36: “id suā sponte, apparebat, tuta celeribus consiliis praepositurum,” Liv. 22, 38, 13: “celeriora quam tutiora consilia magis placuere ducibus,” id. 9, 32, 3.—Hence, adv. in two forms, tūtē and tūtō , safely, securely, in safety, without danger. a. Posit. (α). Form tute (very rare): “crede huic tute,” Plaut. Trin. 1, 2, 102: “eum tute vivere, qui honeste vivat,” Auct. Her. 3, 5, 9: “tute cauteque agere,” id. ib. 3, 7, 13.— (β). Form tuto (class. in prose and poetry): “pervenire,” Plaut. Mil. 2, 2, 70; Lucr. 1, 179: “dimicare,” Caes. B. G. 3, 24: “tuto et libere decernere,” id. B. C. 1, 2: “ut tuto sim,” in security, Cic. Fam. 14, 3, 3: “ut tuto ab repentino hostium incursu etiam singuli commeare possent,” Caes. B. G. 7, 36. — b. Comp.: “ut in vadis consisterent tutius,” Caes. B. G. 3, 13: “tutius et facilius receptus daretur,” id. B. C. 2, 30: “tutius ac facilius id tractatur,” Quint. 5, 5, 1: “usitatis tutius utimur,” id. 1, 5, 71: “ut ubivis tutius quam in meo regno essem,” Sall. J. 14, 11.— c. Sup. (α). Form tutissime: nam te hic tutissime puto fore, Pomp. ap. Cic. Att. 8, 11, A.— (β). Form tutissimo: “quaerere, ubi tutissimo essem,” Cic. Att. 8, 1, 2; cf. Charis. p. 173 P.: “tutissimo infunduntur oboli quattuor,” Plin. 20, 3, 8, § 14. Grice was especially interested in the misuses of intuition. He found that J. L. Austin (born in Lancaster) had “Northern intuitions.” “I myself have proper heart-of-England intuitions.” “Strawson has Cockney intuitions.” “I wonder how we conducted those conversations on Saturday mornings!” “Strictly, an intuition is a non-inferential knowledge or grasp, as of a proposition, concept, or entity, that is not based on perception, memory, or introspection; also, the capacity in virtue of which such cognition is possible. A person might know that 1 ! 1 % 2 intuitively, i.e., not on the basis of inferring it from other propositions. And one might know intuitively what yellow is, i.e., might understand the concept, even though ‘yellow’ is not definable. Or one might have intuitive awareness of God or some other entity. Certain mystics hold that there can be intuitive, or immediate, apprehension of God. Ethical intuitionists hold both that we can have intuitive knowledge of certain moral concepts that are indefinable, and that certain propositions, such as that pleasure is intrinsically good, are knowable through intuition. Self-evident propositions are those that can be seen (non-inferentially) to be true once one fully understands them. It is often held that all and only self-evident propositions are knowable through intuition, which is here identified with a certain kind of intellectual or rational insight. Intuitive knowledge of moral or other philosophical propositions or concepts has been compared to the intuitive knowledge of grammaticality possessed by competent users of a language. Such language users can know immediately whether certain sentences are grammatical or not without recourse to any conscious reasoning. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “My intutions.” BANC.

 

ionian-sea-coast philosophy: Grice, “Or mar ionio, as the Italians have it!” -- the characteristically naturalist and rationalist thought of Grecian philosophers of the sixth and fifth centuries B.C. who were active in Ionia, the region of ancient Greek colonies on the coast of Asia Minor and adjacent islands. First of the Ionian philosophers were the three Milesians. Grice: “It always amused me that they called themselves Ionians, but then Williams, who founded Providence in the New World, called himself an Englishman!”. Refs.: H. P. Grice: “The relevance of Ionian philosophy today.”

 

iron-age metaphysics: Euclidean geometry, the version of geometry that includes among its axioms the parallel axiom, which asserts that, given a line L in a plane, there exists just one line in the plane that passes through a point not on L but never meets L. The phrase ‘Euclidean geometry’ refers both to the doctrine of geometry to be found in Euclid’s Elements fourth century B.C. and to the mathematical discipline that was built on this basis afterward. In order to present properties of rectilinear and curvilinear curves in the plane and solids in space, Euclid sought definitions, axioms, ethics, divine command Euclidean geometry 290   290 and postulates to ground the reasoning. Some of his assumptions belonged more to the underlying logic than to the geometry itself. Of the specifically geometrical axioms, the least self-evident stated that only one line passes through a point in a plane parallel to a non-coincident line within it, and many efforts were made to prove it from the other axioms. Notable forays were made by G. Saccheri, J. Playfair, and A. M. Legendre, among others, to put forward results logically contradictory to the parallel axiom e.g., that the sum of the angles between the sides of a triangle is greater than 180° and thus standing as candidates for falsehood; however, none of them led to paradox. Nor did logically equivalent axioms such as that the angle sum equals 180° seem to be more or less evident than the axiom itself. The next stages of this line of reasoning led to non-Euclidean geometry. From the point of view of logic and rigor, Euclid was thought to be an apotheosis of certainty in human knowledge; indeed, ‘Euclidean’ was also used to suggest certainty, without any particular concern with geometry. Ironically, investigations undertaken in the late nineteenth century showed that, quite apart from the question of the parallel axiom, Euclid’s system actually depended on more axioms than he had realized, and that filling all the gaps would be a formidable task. Pioneering work done especially by M. Pasch and G. Peano was brought to a climax in 9 by Hilbert, who produced what was hoped to be a complete axiom system. Even then the axiom of continuity had to wait for the second edition! The endeavor had consequences beyond the Euclidean remit; it was an important example of the growth of axiomatization in mathematics as a whole, and it led Hilbert himself to see that questions like the consistency and completeness of a mathematical theory must be asked at another level, which he called metamathematics. It also gave his work a formalist character; he said that his axiomatic talk of points, lines, and planes could be of other objects. Within the Euclidean realm, attention has fallen in recent decades upon “neo-Euclidean” geometries, in which the parallel axiom is upheld but a different metric is proposed. For example, given a planar triangle ABC, the Euclidean distance between A and B is the hypotenuse AB; but the “rectangular distance” AC ! CB also satisfies the properties of a metric, and a geometry working with it is very useful in, e.g., economic geography, as anyone who drives around a city will readily understand.  Grice: "Much the most significant opposition to my type of philosophising comes from those like Baron Russell who feel that ‘ “ordinary-language” philosophy’ is an affront to science and to intellectual progress, and who regard exponents like me as wantonly dedicating themselves to what the Baron calls 'stone-age metaphysics', "The Baron claims that 'stone-age metaphysics' is the best that can be dredged up from a ‘philosophical’ study of an ‘ordinary’ language, such as Oxonian, as it ain't. "The use made of Russell’s phrase ‘stone-age metaphysics’ has more rhetorical appeal than argumentative force."“Certainly ‘stone-age’ *physics*, if by that we mean a 'primitive' (as the Baron puts it -- in contrast to 'iron-age physics') set of hypotheses about how the world goes which might conceivably be embedded somehow or other in an ‘ordinary’ language such as Oxonian, does not seem to be a proper object for first-order devotion -- I'll grant the Baron that!"“But this fact should *not* prevent something derivable or extractable from ‘stone-age’ (if not 'iron-age') *physics*, perhaps some very general characterization of the nature of reality, from being a proper target for serious research.”"I would not be surprised if an extractable characterization of this may not be the same as that which is extractable from, or that which underlies, the Baron's favoured iron-age physics!" iron-age physics: Grice on Russellian compresence, an unanalyzable relation in terms of which Russell, in his later writings especially in Human Knowledge: Its Scope and Limits, 8, took concrete particular objects to be analyzable. Concrete particular objects are analyzable in terms of complexes of qualities all of whose members are compresent. Although this relation can be defined only ostensively, Russell states that it appears in psychology as “simultaneity in one experience” and in physics as “overlapping in space-time.” Complete complexes of compresence are complexes of qualities having the following two properties: 1 all members of the complex are compresent; 2 given anything not a member of the complex, there is at least one member of the complex with which it is not compresent. He argues that there is strong empirical evidence that no two complete complexes have all their qualities in common. Finally, space-time pointinstants are analyzed as complete complexes of compresence. Concrete particulars, on the other hand, are analyzed as series of incomplete complexes of compresence related by certain causal laws. 

 

SEQUITVR/NON-SEQVITVR -- non sequitur --: irrationality, unreasonableness. Whatever it entails, irrationality can characterize belief, desire, intention, and action. intuitions irrationality 443 4065h-l.qxd 08/02/1999 7:40 AM Page 443 Irrationality is often explained in instrumental, or goal-oriented, terms. You are irrational if you (knowingly) fail to do your best, or at least to do what you appropriately think adequate, to achieve your goals. If ultimate goals are rationally assessable, as Aristotelian and Kantian traditions hold, then rationality and irrationality are not purely instrumental. The latter traditions regard certain specific (kinds of) goals, such as human well-being, as essential to rationality. This substantialist approach lost popularity with the rise of modern decision theory, which implies that, in satisfying certain consistency and completeness requirements, one’s preferences toward the possible outcomes of available actions determine what actions are rational and irrational for one by determining the personal utility of their outcomes. Various theorists have faulted modern decision theory on two grounds: human beings typically lack the consistent preferences and reasoning power required by standard decision theory but are not thereby irrational, and rationality requires goods exceeding maximally efficient goal satisfaction. When relevant goals concern the acquisition of truth and the avoidance of falsehood, epistemic rationality and irrationality are at issue. Otherwise, some species of non-epistemic rationality or irrationality is under consideration. Species of non-epistemic rationality and irrationality correspond to the kind of relevant goal: moral, prudential, political, economic, aesthetic, or some other. A comprehensive account of irrationality will elucidate epistemic and non-epistemic irrationality as well as such sources of irrationality as weakness of will and ungrounded belief.

 

esse:“est” (“Homo animale rationalis est”Aristotle, cited by Grice in “Aristotle on the multiplicity of being”)“is” is the third person singular form of the verb ‘be’, with at least three fundamental usages that philosophers distinguish according to the resources required for a proper semantic representation. First, there is the ‘is’ of existence, which Grice finds otiose“Marmaduke Bloggs is a journalist who climbed Mt Everest on hands and kneesa typical invention by journalists”. (There is a unicorn in the garden: Dx (Ux8Gx)) uses the existential quantifier. Bellerophon’s dad: “There is a flying horse in the stable.” “That’s mine, dad.”Then, second, there is the ‘is’ of identity (Hesperus is Phosphorus: j % k) employs the predicate of identity, or dyadic relation of “=,” as per Leibniz’s problem“The king of France”Kx = Ky. Then third there is the ‘is’ of predication, which can be essential (izzing) or accidentail (hazzing). (Samson is strong: Sj) merely juxtaposes predicate symbol and proper name. Some controversy attends the first usage. Some (notably that eccentric philosopher that went by the name of Meinong) maintain that ‘is’ applies more broadly than ‘exists.’ “Is” produces truths when combined with ‘deer’ and ‘unicorn.’ ‘Exists,’ rather than ‘is’, produces a truth when combined with ‘deer’ -- but not ‘unicorn’. Aquinas takes “esse” to denote some special activity that every existing thing necessarily performs, which would seem to imply that with ‘est’ they attribute more to an object than we do with ‘exists’. Other issues arise in connection with the second usage. Does, e.g. “Hesperus is Phosphorus,” attribute anything more to the heavenly body than its identity with itself? Consideration of such a question leads Frege, wrongly to conclude, in what Ryle calls the “Fido”-Fido theory of meaning that names (and other meaningful expressions) of ordinary language have a “sense” or “mode of presenting” the thing to which they refer that representations within our standard, extensional logical systems fail to expose. The distinction between the ‘is’ of identity and the ‘is’ of predication parallels Frege’s distinction between ‘objekt” and concept: words signifying objects stand to the right of the ‘is’ of identity and those signifying concepts stand to the right of the ‘is’ of predication. Although it seems remarkable that so many deep and difficult philosophical concepts should link to a single short and commonplace word, we should perhaps not read too much into that observation. Grecian and Roman indeed divide the various roles played by English’s compact copula among several constructions, but there are dialects, even within Oxford, that use the expression “is” for other purposes. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Aristotle on the multiplicity of being.”

 

-ism: used by Grice derogatorily. In his ascent to the City of the Eternal Truth, he meets twelve –isms, which he orders alphabetically. These are: Empiricism. Extensionalism. Functionalism. MaterialismMechanism. Naturalism. Nominalism. Phenomenalism. Positivism. Physicalism. Reductionism. Scepticism. Grice’s implicaturum is that each is a form of, er, minimalism, as opposed to maximalism. He also seems to implicate that, while embracing one of those –isms is a reductionist vice, embracing their opposites is a Christian virtueHe explicitly refers to the name of Bunyan’s protagonist, “Christian”“in a much more publicized journey, I grant.” So let’s see how we can correlate each vicious heathen ism with the Griceian Christian virtuous ism. Empiricism. “Surely not all is experience. My bones are not.” Opposite: Rationalism. Extensionalism. Surely the empty set cannot end up being the fullest! Opposite Intensionalism. Functionalism. What is the function of love? We have to extend functionalism to cover one’s concern for the otherAnd also there’s otiosity. Opposite: Mentalism. MaterialismMy bones are ‘hyle,’ but my eternal soul ’t. Opposite Spiritualism.  MechanismSurely there is finality in nature, and God designed it. Opposite Vitalism. NaturalismSurely Aristotle meant something by ‘ta meta ta physica,’ There is a transnatural realm. Opposite: Transnaturalism.  Nominalism. Occam was good, except with his ‘sermo mentalis.’ Opposite: Realism. PhenomenalismAustin and Grice soon realised that Berlin was wrong. Opposite ‘thing’-language-ism. PositivismAnd then there’s not. Opposite: Negativism.  PhysicalismSurely my soul is not a brain state. Opposite: Transnaturalism, since Physicalismm and Naturalism mean the same thing, ony in Greek, the other in Latin.  ReductionismJulie is wrong when she thinks I’m a reductionist. Opposite: Reductivism.  Scepticism: Surely there’s common sense. Opposite: Common-Sensism. Refs: H. P. Grice, “Prejudices and predilections; which become, the life and opinions of H. P. Grice,” The Grice Papers, BANC.

 

Istituto italiano per gli studi filosofici: the title is telling, This is an institute for philosophical studies, aka ‘research.’ Cf. Witters, “Philosophische untersuchungen,” translated as ‘investigations.’ Grice prefers ‘studio,’ as in ‘studi’ (Studies in the way of words).