Nothing is so uniquely personal to an
Oxonian phiosopher as his memories.
Or so says J. D. Mabbott in his
"Oxford memories."
The inner life of a philosopher revolves
around their contemplation, and in guarding their privacy the philosopher seem
almost to be protecting the very basis of his personhood.
Most of Grice's remembering is done in
private and though Grice does speak of sharing this or that memory with B. S.
Benjamin, there seems to be a fashion in which we could no more share a memory
than we could share a pain.
The best that Grice can do is to try to
describe it.
Yet unlike a pain and an ache, a feeling
of anger or of amusement, there are, alas, no natural and public signs of this
or that memory, unless you count Mabbott's "An Oxford Memoir," or
Malcolm's "Memoir" of Witters.
We do not have to learn how to keep our
recollections private as we have to learn to suppress feelings of amusement,
boredom and discomfort.
To the prefatory expression “I remember”
(or "Ammacord," as Fellini prefers, in his dialect) there seems to
attach the aura of a voluntary disclosure about oneself.
It would seem, then, natural and indeed
essential to construe the concept of 'remembering' upon the model of an avowal
about one’s state of mind, about one’s inner and inaccessible experiences.
My experience is inaccessible to you,
but I have an privileged access to it.
It is indeed traditional to approach the
concept of 'remembering' as though it has this kind of logic, or grammar as
Grice prefers.
B. S. Benjamin argues that such an
approach is radically at fault.
Although it is not Benjamin's purpose
either to examine particular theories of memory as they bear upon the problem,
or to do justice to the literature in the field by subjecting it to detailed
criticism.
Benjamin merely attempts to mention what
seem to him to be typical and mistaken moves made in analysing the
concept
And I E J la ^U 3e Sbi by considering
Hume’s analysis as it is presented in the Treatise, because not only does it
present in its purest form a thesis which I wish to attack, but it has exerted
a powerful influence upon subsequent analyses of remembering, as J. C.
Haugeland showed Grice.
According to Hume, to remember something
is to have a special kmd of mental experience in the form of a mental image
different from any other kmd of image or idea. In part, of course, he was led
to talk of * an idea of the memory ’ hy his .? cu , ^ psychology, hut it is
important to notice that although facult 7 psychology are over we still feel compelled
to me “ or y 111 a not very dissimilar way.
Although anc * neurologists still know
practically nothing ..bout the brain mechanism » which enables us to recall
past experiences and previously acquired skills, it seems natural tothink of
the memory as a unitary function of some sort, and from this it is easy to
conclude that our memories, bemg the products of a single process, must m some
way be stamped with the sign of then manufacture.
This is one feature of the problem which
suggests that the task set to any philosophical theory of memory is to detect
those characteristics of the mental experience of remembering that will serve
to isolate and define it.
There is another puzzle which leads one
in the same direction.
How do we know that certain of our
images and thoughts are images of, and thoughts about, the past?
How do we know, if we are trying to
remember say the look of a town, that none of the images we can summon are
right, that none of them are memory images, and then, suddenly, that this one
is a memory image?
Hume’s general concept of the mind as an
entity which can perceive only its own thoughts, inevitably suggested an answer
to these questions, which also did justice to the solution suggested by a
faculty psychology.
For if one holds that a second order
perception is involved in all thinking, it is natural to apply to this second
order perceiving an analysis that is obvious and seems perfectly adequate to
account for certain features of first order perception.
The commonplace that one defines words
referring to physical objects by attempting to isolate those features of a
physical object that are necessary and unique to it was applied by Hume to the
“ objects ” of second order perception.
The impressions of sense, the ideas of
memory and the ideas of imagination differ from each other, he said, with
respect to their strength and vivacity, hence perception (first order),
remembering and imagining may be defined in terms of relative strength and
vivacity.
Ryle mentions the absurdities involved
in the classical theory of second-order perception, but it is worth pointing
out here that the difficulties involved m talking of perceiving an impression
of sense (or a sense datum) are not by any means so obviously involved m ta
lking about perceiving one’s mental image.
Most philosophers, when they first read
Hume, are struck by the strangeness of his suggesting that the impressions of
sense differ from the images of memory only m degree, in a way that they do not
think it strange to suggest that the images of memory and those of imagination
might so differ
This is not surprising, for although no
one has quite been able to describe how one should set about obeying a request
to attend to one’s impression of sense or sense datum of an object, as distmct
from looking at the object itself, everyone knows how to attend to a mental
image of an object In ordinary discourse we use the verbs of perception in this
second order sense quite naturally, as when we speak of hearing the tune we
heard last night or of seeing the accident as clearly as if it were occurring
in front of one’s eyes, and only a philosopher would feel obliged to supply
inverted commas for the verbs in this use
Furthermore, not only can one describe
the contents of an image but one can also discriminate between and report upon
properties of the image as a whole ; for example, upon its comparative
vividness, intensity, blurriness, definition, and so on.
I conclude, then, that when Hume
suggested that the images of memory and those of imagination difier
intrinsically in respect of their relative strength and vivacity, he was not
making a suggestion that is difficult to understand and implausible in the way
that Ins similar remarks about the impressions of sense are.
It is generally agreed, however, that
the characteristics of strength and vivacity of an image fail to mark off
unambiguously our rememberings from our imaginings.
For quite often the images of our
imaginings and fantasies are very much more vivacious and vivid than are many
of our memory images.
Usually this standard criticism of
Hume’s theory is made with the suggestion, explicit or implied, that if only we
were sufficiently attentive and ingenious we could discern what combination of
characteristics invariably attend our rememberings and are absent when we are
imagining.
A number have been suggested, eg. that
our rememberings are accompanied by a feeling of famibarity, that this feeling
makes us apply the concept of pastness to the image, and so on, though I think
it is rarely suggested that such characteristics provide the criteria of
remembering as Hume maintained his did.
The trouble witb tbis criticism is that
it fails to expose tbe real nature of Hume’s failures and m fact it simply
encourages speculations which must prove equally inadequate Hume’s theory of
remembering is the purest example of what I might call the mental datum theory
: that to remember is to have a certain sort of mental datum or experience, and
to tell others what one remembers is to inform them of the details of tins
datum (usually thought to be an image).
So far Benjamin chiefly concerned to
point out considerations which make this a natural theory to put forward. I
wish now to show rt i 8 an “ n P oss ft , le thesis to maintain in any f or m..
I I ^ person statement that asserts an inner experience UJce the possession of
an image, a certain sort of feeling or sensa- tion^ can be corrected by a third
person. It must be accepted as e or rejected as a he ; it cannot be shown to be
mistaken.
If I say that I have a vivid image of a
red pillar box before me, my bearers can, in principle, disbelieve me on the
grounds that I am lying, though it is very difficult to imagine what such
grounds might be.
But it would make no sense to accuse me of
being mistaken about the matter.
The concept of 'mistake' only applies to
cases where it is both theoretically possible to obtain independent evidence on
the matter and to explain how the mistake arose.
There is no way at present known of
obtaining evidence independent of a philosopher's word as to whether or not he
has a mental image of the sort he claims to have.
It is sometimes suggested, indeed, that
an avowal of one’s state of mind or body are m principle incorrigible and hence
self-certifymg.
But I suggest this is an incorrect way
of stating the point.
We are under no logical obhgation to
accept the truth of an avowal and avowals of certain types of inner experience
are regarded as corrigible by indirect evidence.
To mention only one example, claims to
be in pain are sometimes rejected on the evidence of medical authorities when
there is a recognised correlation between the described pam and a
physiologically morbid condition.
But malingerers are lying, not mistaken.
The important logical difference between
statements about one’s inner and private experiences and statements about the
external and public world does not run along the cleavage line of corrigible
and incorrigible assertions.
It runs along the gap separating claims
that may be true, mistaken or deceitful, and those that can only be true or
deceitful.
Sometimes, like mad George IV, a
philosopher may have an entirely delusive memory experience.
More frequently, a philosopher may claim
to remember something when there is independent evidence to show that he must
be mistaken in so thinking.
It is this fact that theories of memory
like Hume’s cannot account for.
It is plain that on Hume’s theory one
must have either veridical memories or be lying, for no one can be mistaken as
to whether or not he has an image of a certain strength and vivacity.
This is the point at which the analogy
between first and second order perception ceases to hold.
We can explain how we made the mistake
of taking an overcoat on the floor to be the body of a man : the light was had,
we had lost our spectacles, we were too far away to see properly.
But one needs no light by which to see a
mental image, no oculist can attend to the defects of the inner eye, and try as
we may we can neither approach nor retreat from our images.
We use no organs to detect our images,
states of mind and sensations ; they are separated from us by no medium ; there
is no mechanism to go wrong ; there is no inference made into which error could
creep.
The absurd necessity that Hume's theory
would impose upon us of declaring to be a liar anyone who thought himself to be
remembering when he was not, clearly follows equally from any revised version
of the theory.
There are no special images, accompanying
feelings of familiarity, or intense convictions that one is truly remembering
and so on, from the experiencing of which it follows conclusively that one is
indeed remembering.
This follows from the fact that any
claim to remember, no matter how confidently it may be based upon the
possession of dear and distinct images, feelings of fa mili arity and so on,
may in principle he falsified by evidence of a non-subjective kind.
For instance, I may he absolutely
certain that I can remember meeting a friend in the street yesterday.
Yet, if it were proved that the friend
whom I thought I remembered meeting had been at that time a hundred miles away,
I would have to accept the fact that I could not possibly remember meeting bfm
and that I must have imagined the occurrence.
It follows from this corrigibility of
claims to remember, that no mental datum or combination of mental data can
possibly function as sufficient criteria of remembering as the Humean type of
theory suggests they do.
Or, to put the point in the way I have
been doing, one can only maintain the enterprise of taking mental data to he
sufficient criteria at the expense of rendering it impossible to talk of people
making honestly mistaken memory claims.
It is well worth noticing thatmental
data of the type I have been considering do not function as necessary criteria
of remembering either.
Hume’s doctrine that one remembers if
one has an image of a certain kind has only recently been abandoned in the face
of a mass of psychological evidence to the contrary.
Indeed, some would seem to have
abandoned the memory-image theory with the poignant reluctance of the theorist
confronted with impossibly indigestible facts.
The facts are certainly indigestible,
hut the weak points in a conceptual analysis (which eveiy philosophical theory
of memory should be) may be detected independently of experimental evidence,
and in this case one can certainly show without recourse to experimental
evidence that the possession of mental imager}' is not a necessary condition
(or criterion) of remembering.
For example, if a barrister conducting a
cross- examination attempted to tlirow doubt on the reliabibty of a witness s
memory by demonstrating, per impossible, that the witness s account was
unaccompanied by mental imagerv, no one m the court, would understand lus point
at all.
Ye” have e s o eci e or to help us
decide whether or not people remember an . ome o t icse are tests for the
presence or absence of necessary remembering 31 conditions, but tbe possession
or lack of possession of images is not one of these tests
By substituting for ‘ mental image 5 any
other mental datum in the example above, one can see similarly that no specific
mental datum need be present before one can be said to remember.
To avoid misunderstanding, it should be
mentioned that of course these arguments do not apply to any non-introspectible
concomitant of remembering, c.g. such as a certain pattern of neural discharge.
It may veil be discovered that phenomena
of this kind are necessary to remembering, but non-introspectible or
unconscious mental phenomena in the nature of the case do not, and could not,
usefully function as cnteria of remembering, which is the point in question.
Modem versions of the memory image
theory avoid the notorious flaw in Hume’s theory by attempting to account for
the fact of honest but mistaken memory claims.
The core of the modified version is the
suggestion that a memory image is a representative image of a past perceptual
experience, and when one makes an honest mistake of memory one is faithfully
reporting or observing an image that fails to represent the past
experience.
This is unobjectionable so far as it
goes, but if the argument above, showing that images have no necessary role m
remembering, is correct, it follows that this theory fails to expose any part
of the logical structure of the concept at all, and merely describes a
phenomenon that may or may not take place.
It is, furthermore, obvious that anyone
who assigns to the memory-image a central role m the analysis of remembering
must explain the connexion or lack of connexion between our rememberings when
memory-images naturally are likely to occur, as in our memories of places and
faces, and those when they are not, as for instance when we remember how to tie
a running bowline or the first four lines of "Paradise Lost."
"Of man's first
disobedience..."
It is worth considering one such
attempted explanation, made by Broad in "The mind and Its Place in
Nature.""
In a chapter entitled “Memory"
in that work he says that “memory" and "to remember" are
highly ambiguous in that they cover “a number of very different acts."
Thus, Broad claims he uses
"remember" in what he thinks are more than one Fregeian
"sense" when he speaks of remembering
a) a set of nonsense-syllables,
b) a poem,
c) a proposition in Euclid, or a claim
by Descartes.
d) how to swim, and
e) people and places, because in each
case what we remember differs from tbe others.
Given this technique of discriminating
this or that alleged "sense" of 'remember,' Broad is able to declare
that there is one 'sense' of 'remember' which he remembers a past perceptual
experience (when imaging is most likely normally to occur).
And Broad declares that this 'sense' is
different from the other alleged 'senses,' most of which, he suggests, can be
called instances of remembering "only by courtesy," i.e. by
metabolical extension.
Broad’s contention that ‘remembering’
is ambiguous and has many senses would be of the first importance if
true.
There are, however, several reasons for
denying its truth, at least in the form in which Broad presents it.
In the first place it is plainly
incorrect to assert that, for example, in the claims
'I remember her face'
'I remember her name and telephone
number'
'I remember how to rhumba ’,
one could possibly mistake what was
being claimed, through an ambiguity of ‘ remember ’, in the way that one might
mistake or misunderstand the claim that have been to the bank ’.
Neither is it apparent that more subtle
distinctions of sense are involved asm
‘I feel a penny ’,
' I feel sick ’ and
‘ I feel happy ’.
The alleged differences of sense
involved in the latter cases can be indicated by the blatant inappropriateness
of certain questions asked of one or more of the claims, which axe quite
appropriate if asked of others, e g.
What is the location of what you feel
?
I feel a pain in my tail.
I have a pain in my tail.
What did you feel it with? and so
on
But Broad does not elicit distinctions
of this or that alleged 'sense' in 'remember' in the same straightforward
way.
Instead, he first states an implied
analysis of the concept of remembering from which distinctions can be seen to follow,
by declaring that remembering is an act, and then not unreasonably concludes
that the very different activities involved in, e g.
remembering how to swim (bodily
activity),
the lines of a poem (rote
activity),
someone’s face (the mental activity of
having an image),
and so on, must be reflected in alleged
different senses of the word we use to refer to these differing acts.
But such distinctions rest upon the
highly contentious assertion that remembering is the name of an act or set of
diffe rent acts, and is m no way a straight-forward statement about usage as
the previous examples were.
Indeed, the implausible conclusion which
follows from thistheory, and which Broad draws, that there is no connexion
whatever between the senses of remember elicited, might be taken as prima facie
evidence of its falsity.
The only way to. decide whether
'remember' (and its cognates, such as 'remembrance,' or 'forget') are radically
multi-vocal, aequi-vocal, or substantially univocal (as Grice and Benjamin wish
to maintain), is to re-analyse the concept to see whether or not a uniform core
of meaning is preserved m its use in different con- texts.
This I shall attempt to do, and m the
course of my argument it will, I think, become quite clear that it is not
possible o construe remembering as an act, except of course m the entirely
empty sense in which one might say that eveiy active verb mast- denote an act,
which is just as well for Locke, since his problem was with appealing to God's
grace in the veridical character of the memory of his (i.e. Locke's)
actions (section 13).
Before I proceed to this analysis
something further is needed to do justice to at least one of the points which
Broad wished to make.
For anyone, irrespectiveof whether or
not he takes remembering to be simply an activity, might well be greatly struck
by the difference between remembering a past perceptual experience, and
remembering a poem or how to swim.
The difference seems to lie in the fact
that whereas it in no way seems necessary for one’s remembering the lines of a
poem or how to swim to be accompanied by introspectible mental experiences, it
is difficult to understand how one could remember a perceptual experience
without an experience analogous to the original one taking place.
As when Grice claims that if he wants to
'verify', "I am not hearing a noise," he has to elicit the experience
of hearing a noise, and find himself in an experience which is INCOMPATIBLE
(alla Peirce or Sheffer) with it.
For example, what would it be like to
remember the very tones of a voice without m some sense hearing the voice
again, or to recollect in detail the view up the High from Magdalen Bridge
without seeing it in one’s mind’s eye?
Then again, when one goes over the
events of the day one usually does so not by telling oneself the story of what
occurred but by seeing, hearing and feeling again in memory fragments of one’s
perceptual experiences, in short, by a sort of reliving of the day’s
events.
What I shall call, for want of a better
phrase, "re-living," is undeniably typical of our remembering of
perceptual experiences, and the memory-image theory is an attempt to do justice
to this fact, as also is Broad’s assertion that remembering has different
senses.
Whether the phenomenon of
"re-living" is marked by a distinction m sense of ' remember ’ is a
question that may be decided the better when the remaining analysis has been
made.
It is fairly obvious, however, that the
notion of "re-living" is capable far better than that of a memory
image of accommodating the recall of non-visual perceptual experiences and,
hence, that the memory-image theory has the trivial defect of
over-narrowness.
What is less obvious is whether the
argument against the memory- image theory presented earlier has equal weight
against the broader reliving theory.
It is certainly no more a standard test
of remembering to enquire whether a person is in some way reliving what he
CLAIMS to remember, than it is to enquire if he has an image of it.
But one might now feel tempted to argue
that it does not follow from the fact that this is not a standard test, that
reliving is never theless not a necessary ingredient of remembering P as evpen
cnees
We may investigate this possibility by
se • => _ U P e hypothetical case of a man who was perfectly well able
to describe his past perceptual experiences and yet denies that he underwent
the experience of reliving in any way at all.
Some people might wish to argue that he
must be reliving the experiences he describes — otherwise how could he describe
them? and that either he fails to understand what we mean by the phrases ‘
reliving ‘ seeing or hearing vividly in recollection ! and so on, or that he
undergoes his reliving in a very curious way (as, for example, some hold that
people with freakish ability to calculate in their heads must perform sums
terribly fast and unbeknown to themselves ).
It would take us too far off the course
Grice wishes to follow to consider the really interesting points this argument
involves.
Two, however, may be noted.
First, the ability to image sensory
experiences does vary widely from person to person, so the disagreement may
well have a factual basis .
Second, it is a genuine puzzle sometimes
to know what is to count as an image.
For instance, what the writer pi esumes
is his memory image of the High from Magdalen Bridge is so fleeting, blurred
and thin that, if, as it were, it could be captured for the requisite time, it
would undoubtedly prove impossible to draw it ; yet he can describe the view to
himself and others.
Would this count as an image, a
reliving?
One tends to put an end to such a
question, I think, by wearily agreeing that it must be an image.
The really important point at issue,
though, may he decided, whether or not this preliminary question can be.
If reliving is a necessary condition of
remembering a past experience, then, were we to find someone who could describe
to himself and to others his experiences without any reliving of them, it would
have to follow that he was not really remembering.
I do not think that this point could be
sustained.
Our subject would give a perfectly
adequate memory-performance ; he would pass all the standard tests of
remembering ; we could not even say that he is not good at remembering, in the
usual sense of the phrase.
All that we could say of him is that he
does his remembering in a curious fashion, and, at the most, that remembering
is for us a much richer experience than it is for him, that, perhaps, it means
more to us than it does to him.
But the phrase * means more 5 in this
context has somewhat the same force that it has in the observation that doing
addition means more to me than it does to a bank teller ; we both add, but
whereas his answers come 3
A phenomenon interesting in tins
connexion is reported in a recent note on “ Loss of Visualisation ’’ by Sir
Bussell Brain, Proc of the Royal Society of Meihrmc, Apn! 19J4, Vol. 47, No 4 3
An informative mid brief account of such differences is given in “The
Measurement of Mental Images ” by P. L Short, Penguin Science Rcics, No. 24.
almost automatically, I leach mine by means of agonised and laborious little
sums
If only because we are taught to add,
there is little temptation for us to confuse our personal methods of doing it
with the notion of adding itself.
It is perhaps largely because
remembering is a natural phenomenon, something which we do not have to learn,
that we feel ourselves to be authorities on the subject and that our personal
methods and techniques will have some necessary connexion with the logical
structure of the concept.
But a concept used in public discourse
could not be so dependent upon the vagaries of private experiences, the nature
of which, as we have seen, it is not even easy to describe 3?or it to have a
stand- ard meaning its use must be standardised, and reference to the
experiences of reliving undergone by individuals, plainly, could hardly be
suitable for this In fact, because of our preoccupation with our experiences of
remembering, we tend to simply ignore the standard uses to which we put the
concept in our discourse It is to these that we must now turn I referred
earlier to the fact that a claim to remember is m principle falsifiable or
verifiable by observations which are in no way connected with the state of mmd
of the person making the claim
The following example lEustrates still
further points of difference between the logic of statements about one’s sate
of mmd and statements containing the verb ‘ to remember ’ or its cognates.
But this is incidental to the present
purpose of the example, which is to provide further material for the study of
how the concept actually behaves when used m discourse.
Suppose two men, each of whom is
thoroughly acquamted with the painting of a certain artist.
This artist has painted a view fa mili
ar to each, and one man has seen the painting and the other has neither seen it
nor had it described.
Now suppose we ask each man to try and
picture the painting to himself and then to tell us what the painting is like
The man who has seen the painting before will probably claim to remember it,
and we can test his claim by getting him to describe it to us.
Should his statement be such that it
would count as a description of the painting, it must be allowed that he remembers
it Should his statement not be a description of the painting, 1 or shouldhe be
unable even to begin a description, Tre would have to declare tliat lie did not
remember the painting ; in the first case that either he was guessing or
confusing the painting with another one ; in the second, unless he suffered
from ° r "° fc C ° lmt aB a descn P tl0n 111 thls of context a speech
defect or the painting was such that a verbal description presented great
difficulty, simply thathe had failed to remember it.
We could hardly expect the other man to
be able to describe the painting, but it is just possible that, knowing the
scene and being familiar with the artist’s ' vision palette and so on, he could
tell us sufficiently well what the painting was hbe.
But even were his answer to be in
substance exactly the same as that of the man who remembered the painting, and
even if both were to have similar mental pictures, the second man would not be
remembering the painting but guessing what it was like, and even if he were
honestly to believe himself to be remembering it, it could not follow that he
was.
Alternatively, if the first man had
quite forgotten that he had seen the picture and had then told us what it. was
like, thinking he was guessing, we should be forced to declare that in fact he
was remembering the picture although he was unaware that he was domg so.
The obvious point which this example
illustrates is the in- dependence between on the one hand, the state of mind,
mental imagery and so on, of the person who claims to remember or not remember
the painting and, on the other, the factors which, on appeal, decide whether
the claim is to be accepted or rejected and reformulated as a guess or an
imagining.
As was mentioned earlier, that memory
claims are verifiable m principle by recourse to pubbcly ascertainable facts 1
indicates a marked difference between the logic of these assertions and those
reporting a mental experience
An even more staking distinction hes in
the fact that if a claim to remember is rejected in toto, it is im- mediately
reclassified, as for instance * you couldn’t remember such an occurrence
because it never took place ; you must have imagined it or guessed it. or made
it up ’.
Each of us has been subject to such
corrections and unquestionably we were not being convicted of linguistic
incompetence : neither, as we have seen,could it be for mistaking the nature of
our (conscious) mental experience.
What, sort of mistake, then, were we
committing ? An answer suggests itself most strongly when one notices the way m
which rejected memory-claims are corrected : you didn’t remember, you imagined,
dreamt, guessed it, and so on.
We use these forms of emendation when
certain of the conditions hich must he fulfilled before remembering can take
place, have
This is not aht ays possible, of course,
eg. it hen ne remember our dreams feelings and so on
But treat our memories of such tilings
nx though they arc verifiable independently, m as much as everyone it ould
admit that it is possible that his memory of, e g lus dream, is mistaken or
faulty. not been fulfilled, for example, when someone claims to remember seeing
an occurrence which m fact never took place, or, if it did, winch he could not
have been m a position to witness.
In such a case, the statement presented
as a memory-claim or the unexpressed thought which is taken to be a memory,
cannot have come to mind as a result of the memory process, t e as the
retention of past experience, for the experience never took place
To correct the claim with ‘ you must
have imagined, dreamt, guessed it’, and so on, answers the question which the
demal that remembering took place poses, namely, How then did he come to t hink
of it? by ascribing to him a mental process different to the one originally
claimed.
I think that it would be true to say
that the everyday view of remembering is simply that it is the final stage of a
causal process and that the memory is some sort of causal device or
mechanism.
The fact that "remember,"
being 'factive,' as 'know' is, is opposed by 'imagining,' 'guessing,'
'inventing,' 'making-up,' 'dreaming,' and so on, is itself evidence of this
belief.
The view that remembering should he
thought of as part of a causal process is, of course, fundamental to psychology
and to neurologists attempting to find the brain mechanism responsible for the
phenomenon.
The process view also underlies the
extensions made to the concept of memory when, under the influence of the new
evolutionary biology, the notion was applied to races and groups, or m our own
day when we apply it to inanimate objects capable of certain involved causal
processes, as when we speak, by metabolic extension, of a calculating machines
having a memory, or of the word 'remember' to 'mean.' The fact that it makes
some sense (although also different senses) to talk of human memory, race
memory, machine memory and so on, indicates how central to the concept of
memory is the process-analysis.
Add to this the point that if we are to
explain the phenomenon of memory we undoubtedly have to assume that a process
of some sort is responsible, and one is led to enquire whether the analysis of
remembering into a process-concept may not solve the problems which the
analyses so far mentioned have been unable to meet.
For one thing, reference to an
underlying mental processprovides a common factor m our use of the memory words
over a wide range of differing contexts, and would thus appear to explain our
usage.
For another, it would seem to avoid the
difficulty raised by honest but mistaken memory- claims, as there is no reason
why privileged access should extend to unconscious mental processes.
There is, however, something very
curious entailed by this suggestion.
On the one hand, even now very little is
known about the processes involved m human memoiy . 1
On the other, it is frequently possible
to establish with certainty that a person remembers something.
The consequence of the process analysis
would be, then, that we can establish with certainty that on oc- casions the
working of an assumed and unknown process has taken place.
It also involves the novel information
that when we claim to remember, what we are really claiming is that we are
undergoing a certain mental process.
If this were so it is undoubtedly true
that the vast majority of people when they claim to remember something, simply
do not know what it is that they are claiming.
These conclusions are quite
unacceptable.
But the difficulties involved m
construing the concept as a process concept do not necessitate the equally
unpalatable course of maintaining that it is not a process concept.
The assertion that a person remembers
something does mvolve, or is taken to involve, the ascription to that person of
a certain mental process undergone.
But it also involves far more, and that
of a character vastly more important to the purposes of everyday life m which
the concept finds employment.
In its constant everyday use it finds
employment, I suggest, as one of a group of concepts which we use to classify
statements according to their truth-value.
The group described earlier as process
concepts opposed to remembering likewise serve the same purpose.
But the properties which, ru the
previous context, it was natural to assume were properties belonging to the
utterer of a statement — that lie is guessing, imagining, inventing, dreaming,
etc — I wish now to point out are properties which, in the first place, belong
to the statement itself.
A statement is classified as a guess
when it is not backed by evidence which would yield it as a conclusion ; an
inference when it is so backed ; an invention, story, dream or imagining when
it bears no relation, descriptive or evidential, to the facts which it purports
to he about, when the statement is presented as a claim to remember.
To preface a statement with, e g. ' this
story ’, * my dream etc , is to declare that it does not purport to be about
any facts.
These rough summaries, which are not
meant to he characterisations let alone definitions, serve to bring out two
pomts.
First, that to classify a statement
under any one of these or similar heads is to label ltwith regard to Its
truth-value.
There are. of course, highly informed
speculations about its nature.
See, c g The neurophysiological Basis of
Mind, by J. C Eceles, Oxford.
For a discussion of certain special
difficulties that accounts of the nature of tlie memory mechanism must face,
see, “ In Search of the Engram ’ by K. S Lashlov, S.E B Symposia, vol. IV,
Academic Press, HT.X , 1950.
Second, that it is, so to speak, to write
upon tlie label tbe support or lack of it which the statement possesses.
Thus the labelling of an assertion as a
guess informs peoplethat the support or grounds hacking the assertion is of a
certain kind, and that although the information asserted is unlikely to be
true, it just may be so (it may be a shrewd guess).
Though the remaining process verbs
I mentioned, and the far larger set that I have not mentioned, would each need
individual treatment (which I shall shortly give in the case of remembering) m
order to demonstrate that they are used to classify assertions, the sample that
I have given is suffi- cient to indicate the nature of this linguistic
function.
It may be observed that it is clearly
necessary m the interests of efficient communication that we should apprise one
another, where possible, of the logical status of the assertions we make.
The enormous difficulties and
frustrations reported by people who have experienced living m primitive
societies where such distinctions are not made is sufficient witness of
this.
On the other hand, except in certain
rare instances, it is not apparent that the constant exchange of
autobiographical prefaces to our remarks would be particularly useful or
interesting.
The philosopher who purveys information
solely about himself is a bore.
Although the fact that it is
grammatically correct to refer the actions denoted by active verbs to the actor
("I guess," "he guesses," etc ) clearly plays a large part
m leading us to misconstrue sentences containing verbs of the group which
concerns us simply as sentences GIVING INFORMATION about the actor, this
linguistic fact is not the whole of the matter.
Even though the logical propriety of
employing active verbs at all in these contexts might now seem dubious, it
equally seems unavoidable.
On the one hand, that the making of
assertions or the thinking of thoughts of logically different lands necessarily
involves a doing or activity seems guaranteed by the “ causal principle."
On the other, it is a matter of experience
that frequently the production of different sorts of assertions (or thoughts)
is preceded by typically di ff erent mental doings, experiences or
processes
The fact of the matter is that these
verb forms play a multiple role m discourse , they are used simultaneously to
label the logical status of an assertion or thought, and to refer to the
activities or processes whicare causally responsible for the assertion.
Neither role can be reduced to the
other, but it is important to see that one is logically primary.
That the process role is secondary
showed itself m the case of remembering, m that no types of mental experiences
or thought processes were found to be either necessary or sufficient conditions
of remembering.
Equally, the primacy of the logical
status marking role appears when it is realised that the conditions which are
necessary and sufficient are those relating to the truth value and truth
conditions of the statement of what is remembered.
E. g. my CLAIM to 'remember' seeing Jones
hit Smith is 'correct' only if Jones did hit Smith and I witnessed the
occurrence.
Once the relationship existing between
the two roles is dear it is not difficult to see why the experiences which
typically enter into our remembering have no part in the logical structure of
the concept.
They could never provide conclusive
tests of whether remembering has taken place or not because what the tests must
he designed to determine is whether the putative memory is 'veridical' or
factive, e. g. whether Jones did hit Smith, etc.
If
(1) 'I remember that p' is true
it follows that one’s memory processes
worked correctly.
But the truth of (1) is NOT logically
dependent on the workings of the memory process.
This point can be seen more clearly in
the following logically analogous case.
The test of whether an electronic
calculating machine is working correctly (and was designed correctly) lies in
the correctness of its calculations.
The tests of correctness are of course
logically related to the rules of the calculus employed, not to an electronic
process.
The production of a calculation is
causally dependent upon the functioning of some process, mechanical or mental,
which employs certain mathematical procedures, just as the production of a
memory is causally dependent upon some individual’s memory processes.
But logical dependence cannot be
assimilated to cansal dependence (or vice versa ) as the theories of
remembering examined earlier in fact attempt to do.
For instance, even if a totally error-free
calculating machine were developed, so that it became practicable to say that
the correct answer to a complex calculation is the answer given by the machine,
the machine’s answer would still in principle he verifiable and the relations
between logical and causal dependence remain unchanged Human memories are not
perfect, and when- ever anything of importance hangs npon an individual's
meznoiy claim we endeavour to verify it.
But although in practice we never accept
as quite conclusive those experiences whatever they may be, which lead a man to
state with honest conviction I know I remember , we do accord them the staus of
strongly presumptive signs of remembering.
If our memories were uniformly excellent
then undoubtedly we would drop our practice of verifying claims to remember,
except as a check for mendacity, and treat them as if they were
self-certifying.
But. even in thi* remote contingency,
the primacy of the status labelling role would remain unchanged.
What I liave referred to as the ‘ logical
status labelling ! role played by tbe mental process verbs must be elucidated
further m the case of remembering.
For an utterer to preface his
conversational move with
"I remember ..."
(or a cognate) is to indicate his
addressee that you CERTIFY the truth and accuracy of the information the
utterer is about to give, or which he claims to be able to give, or to the
correctness of the performance he will or could undertake.
The nature of the status-label affixed
to "p" in a statement of the form
(1) I remember that p.
might, m part, be paraphrased by
"p is true (or this performance is
an instance of p) and you have my word for it."
SYMMETRY OF "I REMEMBER" WITH
"I KNOW."
In this, the role of "I remember
that p" is notably parallel to that of "I know that p."
This comes out in the fact that very
frequently we can employ either verb ("remember," "know")
with indifference both to the intended and understood sense of the utterance,
eg
Do you know/remember Ins name*
Do you know/remember Ohm’s Law* ’ and so
on
The symmetry between "I remember
that p" and "I know that p" similarly shows itself in the
following fact.
"I remembers that p" entails "I know that p."
Consider the reverse:
"I know that p" entails "I remember that p."
No.
The reverse, of course does not.
hold.
One may use 'remember' only to certify
statements or performances relating to the PAST, whereas we can, by the use of
'know' certify statements about the past, present or even future.
I propose to mark this common linguistic
role by describing each concept as a "certificatory" concept.
We may now understand the concept of
"know" to be our most general certificatory concept, and the concept
of "remembering" to be specialised m the respect just mentioned --
know about the past.
It might at first seem that the
certificatory role is at once too obvious and too unimportant to be worth the
mention.
For, as Grice teaches us with his
principle of conversational helpfulness (and the desideratum of conversational
candour), the norm of communication is essentially the exchange of information
supplied in all sincerity, or trustworthiness.
We expect perfectly ordinary statements
like
The car is outside'
'It was raining yesterday'
'I can see him coming ’ to be true, and
lienee there is a perfectly good sense in which one can say that the mere
utterance of an apparently informative statement commits the utterer to
standing by the truth of lus statements.
But this very fact makes it obviously
desirable to have expressions which underline our committal to the truth of our
assertions, and which can be used to stress the fact that the information is
certified.
I shall turn shortly to consider the
contexts in which we do and do NOT use remember ’ , here, it may be noticed
that a phrase like * body of knowledge ’ can be translated into ‘ body of
certified information and ‘ theory of knowledge ’ into ‘ theory of
certification ’ with some gam m illumination.
A further gain stems from the power to
explain certain features of the logical grammar of the concepts which this way
of loo kin g at them allows.
If one proffers information accompanied
by the formula
"I remember that p"
or
"I know that p’,
should p turn out to be false, to be
misinformation, one is forced not merely to admit the falsity of the
information.
The utterer is also forced to admit that
he did not remember, that one did not know.
Both "p" and "I remember
that p" become false.
Or rather, if "p" is false,
"I remember that p" is falsified.
One is forced by the rules of language
formally to eat one’s own words.
Or as Grice would say, one is FORCED to the cancellation of one's implicature.
One may attempt to explain the existence
of such a rule by pointng out that, at least in the case of the verb to
remember and the verbs of perception, which are also subject to this rule, one
is dealing with what Ryle has called achievement words.
This is both true and useful, for one
can talk here of trying or of failing to achieve the desired result, eg oi
TRYING or failing to remember, to see, to hear and so on ; and success may
sometimes indeed be accompanied by a very real feeling of achievement.
But one cannot make this point of the
verb ‘ to know.'
It is not clear what could be meant
by
I am trying to know.'
Or
'He fails to know.'
-- except in the acquaintance sense of
the word where the rule does NOT apply.
The reason for this difference is
undoubtedly that the verbs of ’ achievement ’ are also process (or procedure)
verb whereas the verb ‘ to know ’ in its relevant sense is not.
Processes may or may not work, they need
suitable conditions:
the light is too bad to see.
The admiral who says:
The flogging happened too long ago
for me to remember the details, or indeed, if the flogging ever occurred.
My ears are full of water ’) ; and
sometimes they can be made to work (‘ turn on the light then you’ll see ’, ‘
If you remember what you did before that
it might come back
You’d better see a doctor
If a process fails to work one must
with- draw a claim which implies that it has worked.
But the fact that this rule of formal
withdrawal applies equally to "know," which is not a process verb,
suggests that there must be more behind the rule than reference to processes
which may or may not have taken place.
The remaining explanation emerges, I
suggest, if one sees the rule also as a device, embodied m the language, to
protect the integrity of certificatory expressions.
Words may be abused, suffer debasement
and lose their force, and if it were not for the presence in the language of a
formal rule of this nature, certificatory expressions would soon lose the
special emphasis which makes them so valuable.
It is important to notice something
else.
Because ceteris paribus we use
'remember’ as a mark that the information the utterer is giving is true and
correct, it does not follow that memory can never play the utterer false, that
an utterer cannot make a mistake in his remembering, that one either remembers
or one doesn’t.
If a man were to make three mistakes in
a recitation of the "Ode to a Nightingale,"
My heart aches and a drowsy numbness
pains my sense,
as tho' of hemlock...
no one could sensibly accuse him
of failing to remember the poem, unless it happened to be an occasion when
perfection is required.
On the other hand, if Grice were to get
Benjamin's telephone number wrong, we would say that Grice simply doesn’t
remember it, rather than say merely that Grice made some mistakes.
We have no hard and fast rules for what
is to count as a correct description, an accurate summary, getting an account
right, knowing a street or an argument or a poem.
Hence, we cannot state hard and fast
rules for what is to count as "remember", for we treat
"remember" as a function of the truth, correctness and accuracy of a
statement (or performance).
We evaluate the truth or accuracy of a
statement by taking into account the demands of the contest and situation in
which it is made, and express this evaluation by choosing terms from, so to
speak, a rough SCALE (alla Urmson, "Parenthetical verbs," with the
scale of 'believe' and 'know') of expressions.
For example:
completely accurate
fairly accurate
inaccurate
quite true
partly true
and so on.
Likewise we evaluate and express the
truth or accuracy of what is remembered.
For example:
He remembers it perfectly.
He half-remembers it.
E.g. Grice half-remembers Benjamin's
telephone number.
He didn’t remember it at all ’ and so
on.
Similarly we may dimini sh the claim to
correctness implied (or IMPLICATED) by the use of 'remember,' 'recollect,' know
’ by prefacing them with, eg.
I seem to . . ’,
I think I . . .
I believe I . . . ’ and so on
The object of such qualifications is of
course to warn his addressee that there is, to a varying degree, some doubt
about the correctness of the information which will follow and that, having
given due warning, the utterer cannot be blamed if his utterer puts too much
weight upon his words.
A noteworthy consequence of the
certaficatory role of "remember" may be seen in the fact that it is
only rarely necessary to bring up the notion of "remember" in our
everyday discourse, unless it's a philosopher exploring Locke's theory of
personal identity vis-a-vis Butler's circularity approach.
Now:
One might 'generate,' as Broad wants, a
new sense of "remember" such that from the demonstration of a
"not" utterance, such as:
"I have NOT forgotten that p."
It is not the case that Descartes has forgotten that he thinks.
i. e. that one has produced or performed
p, it would follow
"I remembers that p."
This 'sense' would fully accord with the
requirements of the process concept of memory.
The process concept of memory embodies
precisely the rule just used to generate the new sense of remember.
Hence, the skills and information that
may be said to be memory-dependent, i e. which we may forget (perhaps as a
result of injury to the brain) may now be said to be remembered when they are
aetualised.
Thus one could speak of two Englishmen
conversing as remembering words in the English language.
One might speak of an accountants doing accounts as remembering how to add.
And one might murmur as one signs one’s name ‘
"I’ve just remembered my name
again."
The absurd "inappropriateness"
(or true baffleness, rather) of these examples if ‘remember ’ is understood in
its 'usual' one and only sense, illustrates the opposition between the two
senses, or rather between its one and only sense and the alleged imaginary
one.
It is not, of course, an opposition that
permits the crude exposure of its existence by DENYING that in these examples
one remembers one’s name or one’s language.
Such a denial would for each sense
entail that one had forgotten them.
Cf. Smith has not ceased from eating iron.
Smith has not forgotten the English
language.
Smith has not forgotten how to add.
Smith has not forgotten his name.
The inappropnateness would he in
bringing up the notion of "remember" in its usual, one and only sense
at all in such connexions.
Two very closely related factors
determine when it is appropriate to bang up the notion of :remember" in
ordinary discourse.
It would clearly be nearly as pointless
to remark the functioning of one’s memory processes each time they work as it
would be to remark the fact that one breathes and is m full possession of one’s
faculties ; that one has possession of one’s faculties is usually sufficiently
evident.
The introduction of one’s remarks with
the phrase
"I remember that ..."
or the ascription to the remarks or
performances of others as remembered has point just because we reserve the use
of these expressions for this or that occasion of DOUBT,
when there is some possibility
that one may NOT remember whatever happens to be m question.
Thus the absurd (yet true) utterances in
the examples given above would be sensible remarks only if made m a context in
which there is reason to believe that the person of whom they are made was
suffering an impairment of his faculties, or was a child who was actually
learning this information or these skills.
A child learning English.
A child learning to add.
The prince of Wales learning his full
name.
As a result of this restriction of
application, the very bringing up of the question of "remember"
actually implies (or IMPLICATES) the possibility of forgetting.
Compare the rudeness of
Do you remember your name?
with
What is your name?
or
Do you remember what you had for
breakfast today?
with
with
Do you remember what you had for
breakfast three weeks ago?
Part of the absurdity (yet truth) of the
statements in the previous examples lies m the ineptness of implying (or
implicating) that, for instance, a sane and sober accountant might have
forgotten how to add.
Similar considerations determine the
occasions on which it would be sensible to use a certificatory expression.
We never bring up the notion of
remembering unless there are grounds for supposing that an assertion may need
checking or that a performance might be faulty, and in such circumstances it is
obviously fitting to employ a certifying expression.
By the same token, it would he TOTALLY
OTIOSE (as Rogers Albritton would say) to employ an expression with this force
when one’s addressee stand m no need of personal assurances about the truth of
what is uttered.
For instance, no one would say
either
I remember that 2 + 2 = 4
or
I know that 2 + 2 = 4
although he certainly does know it and,
in the special one and only first sense, he certainly does remember it.
The contiast which I have drawn between
the an alleged, if imaginary, special sense and the ordinary sense or better
'use' of "remember" lies, of course, more properly, between the
concept of memory and the concept of remembering
The concept of memory is the concept of
a storage system, but the concept of remembering is not its natural corollary,
that of the wholesale removal from store of the goods and chattels of
experience
Rather, as Grice attempts to show, it is
devoted to the removal, not of special articles, but of any articles when
conditions are such that the transaction deserves attention.
It is now' possible to attempt an answer
to the question which we deferred, namely, whether remembering has, contra
Broad, a unitary sense maintained in all contexts, or whether it is importantly
multivocal, polysemous, or aequi-vocal, as Grice prefers (Grice takes this
literally, x and y are aequi-vocal, if they are the same 'vox.')
If the arguments put forward by Grice
are correct, it is plain that in their primary linguistic role as certificatory
concept "remember" and its cognates preserve a unitary sense in every
context.
Things ns various ns assertions,
thoughts, images, feelings, bodily performances and so on, may be similar in
respect of their logical status as lmvmg been remembered.
It is the secondary process attributing
lole that misleads theorists on the topic and invites speculations about
alleged differing senses of "remember."
Whet tier there is a single process
responsible for the phenomenon of remembering is a question on which no lay
opimon would merit consideration, and m the absence of an accepted view about
the nature of the process it seems correct to suggest that generally the verb
has a allegedly utterly vague alleged secondary sense, rather than a cluster of
differing ones.
But it remains quite open to individuals
to nominate specific process references should they wish to, and it is
apparently the case that sometimes this does occur, as when people, impressed
by the characteristic way m which their own memories come to them, take the
verb to have reference to these private happenings.
In such cases there seems no reason why
one should not talk of this or that differing alleged secondary sense of
'remember,' so long as it is clearly understood that such alleged 'sense' is a
private one, and do not provide the material upon which a reductive analysis of
the concept must be founded.
No comments:
Post a Comment